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eccentricwritingbaby · 7 months ago

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please please please

lando norris x famous!reader

summary - with lando’s past track record of women, you get nervous entering this new relationship. it leads you to do the only thing you know how - write a song. based on please please please by sabrina carpenter.

masterlist

I know I have good judgment, I know I have good taste

It's funny and it's ironic that only I feel that way

I promise 'em that you're different and everyone makes mistakes

But just don't

“hey baby,” lando greets you as he enters the hotel room, striding in with a kiss to your forehead while giving you a slight hug as he moves towards the bathroom.

“hi, love,” you response from your place on the bed, “how was media day?”

“eh, boring,” lando shrugs as he begins to gather his things for the shower, “but some of the guys and i are going to go out later, you’re coming right?”

“yeah, i’ll come,” you nod with your response, “are you going to be so drunk i have to carry you home again?” laughing through your question, lando just shakes his head at you as he readies the shower.

“no no,” he keeps chuckling, “paparazzi will probably be there and my pr team will freak if they get that story again,”

“yeah, well now you have my pr team to worry about too,” you giggle towards him, “and if you’re surrounded by girls and getting hammered-”

“i know, love,” lando heads over to your place on the bed in order to give you a reassuring kiss, “i won’t embarrass you, i love you too much,”

you chase his lips again to receive another kiss before patting his cheek lightly, “please don’t, i know your history,” you warn him with a little laugh.

“yeah, yeah,” he hops off the bed with an eye roll and a playful shove to you, “you know i wouldn’t do that to you,”

“i know, lan, i know,”

All I'm asking, baby

Please, please, please

Don't prove I'm right

“i just get nervous i guess,” you speak into the phone to your friend, emma, “i mean last night we went out and he was hammered and a bunch of girls were on him after he promised-”

“y/n, y/n, slow down,” she attempts to calm you, “he’s a twenty-four year old millionaire, he’s gonna party you have to get that,” you sigh in realization that she’s right as she continues, “he didn’t and wouldn’t cheat on you, he loves you,”

“i know,” you sigh again.

“where is he now? you should probably talk about this with him,”

“he’s at the track, it’s race day,”

“well then do what you do best,”

“leave him?” you ask with a laugh, thinking about your own track record of ditching relationships when you get scared.

“no,” emma giggles through the phone, “write a song, y/n,”

“oh right,” the giggles escalate between you and your friend right as lando walks through the hotel door, “i gotta go, em, lando just got here,”

“alright, don’t leave him, y/n. he’s good for you, you’ve just got trust issues, and remember that you’re also a twenty-four year old millionaire, you can have fun too,”

“shut up,” you laugh again, hanging up the phone and heading towards your boyfriend, “what are you doing here?”

“are you not happy to see me, baby?” lando asks as he waltzes towards you, hands landing on your waist to pull you into a kiss.

“mm,” you hum in approval, “always happy to see you, lan,”

“good,” he giggles, separating from you and jogging a bit towards his suitcase, “i forgot this team gear thing i have to wear today, so i had to run back really quick,”

“ah okay,” you nod in understanding.

“are you coming soon?” he asks as he grabs the shirt he was looking for, moving to the door to leave.

“yes, baby, i’m going to head down in about an hour,”

“okay, i’ll see you there,” he reaches out for a kiss before he leaves as you blush behind him once the door shuts. you can’t help but notice the way he makes you feel, understanding that your nervousness had no real reason to be there. you both were young and successful, and reaping the benefits of that shouldn’t be so bad in the public eye.

so you take emma’s advice and get out your notepad in order to hopefully release your stress.

Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another

I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker, oh

Please, please, please

it was three weeks later when you arrived home to your apartment after another studio session. your song had taken about two weeks to write, quickly written due to the words being on a constant replay in your head. all you could think was ‘please please please’ therefore the song almost wrote itself. now with a week of recording under your belt, the song was taking off with your production team. they loved it. and so did you. it was determined to be the main single on your album release which was approaching fast.

“hey, lan, i didn’t think you’d get here until later,” you say to your boyfriend as you lock up the door behind you.

“i flew with some of the guys on a private flight, so we landed early,” he explains while getting up and walking to meet you at the door for a kiss, “how was the studio?”

“it was good,” you breathe out, beginning to take off your shoes and toss your bag onto the couch, then going to the kitchen to try and find some food, “i have a few more sessions before the single is ready, and then the album should be finished,”

“that’s nice,” lando replies, stealing a few grapes from the bowl of fruit you grabbed, “can i come with tomorrow?”

“what?” you choke out, not prepared for his question. lando had accompanied you a few times to recording sessions, he seemed to really enjoy them. however, he had never watched you record a song about him, especially one that may be taken the wrong way.

“can i come with you tomorrow?” he asks you a bit slower, attempting to read your facial expression, “to your recording session?”

“oh, um,” you stumble out, “i thought you had to be in the sim?”

“no, that’s in two days, tomorrow i’m free,” he looks you up and down with confusion before continuing, “what’s going on?”

“i’m sorry, lan,” you sigh, pushing the fruit in your bowl around a bit as a distraction, “the song i’ve been recording, well, it’s…” you slow your speech in an attempt to find the right words.

“what?” he pushes, confused on what could be so bad.

“it’s about you, okay?” you finally get out, “and it’s not really a love song,”

“then what is it?” lando asks and you finally take a look at him, but you aren’t able to read his face.

“you’ll hear it tomorrow,”

“no, y/n, what is it?” he demands, pushing forward on the counter in order to get closer to you.

“it’s just-”

“a breakup song?”

“no! no,” you exclaim, still trying to read his face, “it’s kind of a ‘please don’t make me break up with you’ song,” you let out the last part quietly, now looking back down at your fruit again.

“is this about the other night? at the club? or the weekend before?”

“i mean kind of all of it,” you shrug off honestly, “you’ll hear it tomorrow,”

“fine,” he answers, quiet and solemn, “i’m sorry, y/n,”

“why are you sorry?” you ask, finally looking up at him again.

“you clearly don’t trust me, and i know i have a history, i get it, i really do, but-”

“but what?” you cut him off, relieved that he finally may be understanding your point of view, “lando i know we’re young and rich and we can go out and have fun-”

“y/n-” lando attempts to butt in, however you keep going.

“no, lando, let me finish. i know that we are young and stupid but that is us as individuals. i don’t want to have to keep going on fucking podcasts or talk shows where i have to explain why my boyfriend is acting single! it’s one thing to have fun, it’s another to embarrass the shit out of me,” you huff out your feelings, and finally the weight on your chest seemingly disappears.

“i’m sorry, y/n," he sighs out, running a hand down his face, "i guess i’m just used to not dating other famous people and forgot that it can impact your career too, i’m used to it only affecting mine,” lando begins to move towards you, his hands finding their home on your waist.

“it’s fine, like i said, i understand,” you breathe into his chest as you hug him, “i just needed to relieve that stress, and writing does that for me,”

“i get it,” he replies, his left hand coming to rub your back, soothing you further into his arms, “i love you, y/n,”

“i love you too, lando,”

If you wanna go and be stupid

Don't do it in front of me

If you don't wanna cry to my music

Don't make me hate you prolifically

it was finally your album release party a few months later. lando, along with his family and friends were there as well as your whole team and your friends and family. your fresh single had broken records and skyrocketed with presales for your album which would be fully released at midnight. to say you were on a high was an understatement. as you sat next to lando in your finest dress, he squeezed your hand a few times, bringing you back down to earth.

“are you alright?” he nudges you quietly, distracting you from your upcoming speech.

“i sing in front of stadiums, lan,” you chuckle, “i think a speech won’t kill me,” you whisper back to him.

“i know,” he laughs, “just making sure,”

“thank you, love,” you kiss his cheek just as your manager pulls you away from him and near the stage. your producer was giving a speech before you, and he was just about to introduce you for yours.

“and now, the lady you’ve been waiting for all evening, y/n y/l/n!” he cries out, the venue erupting in cheers of encouragement as you waltz across the stage to the mic. giving your producer a light hug and a kiss on each cheek, you stop in front of the microphone and clear your throat to begin.

“i just want to say, first off, thank you to everyone who came tonight. i’m absolutely sure it wasn’t because of the free alcohol and food provided,” you chuckle with the rest of the crowd at your brief joke before continuing.

“as always, being able to even make an album and live out my dream is a blessing, so thank you to everyone who always makes that possible. that would easily be my manager, my production team, and my fans, you guys are the best and i wouldn’t be here without you,”

you pause again briefly for the crowd to cheer in acknowledgment and proceed, “my family and friends, you all never stopped believing in me and there is no way i would be on this stage right now if it weren’t for your support,” one more pause and a deep breath before you begin again.

“and finally, lando,” your teary eyes meet his as you spot max fewtrell giving him a few playful jabs to the shoulder.

“you are and will forever be my muse, my light, my inspiration, and my heart. thank you, for your patience, for your love, and for trusting me with your heart,” you begin to choke up, leading you to swallow your tears as the crowd begins to ‘awe’, “i love you, lan. this album wouldn’t be possible without you, and i wouldn’t be the woman i am today without you by my side. thank you,” you finish off, blowing a kiss in his direction as he quickly wipes a tear from his eye. he wouldn’t embarrass you, he wouldn’t even think about risking the joy you bring him everyday.

Please, please, please (Please)

Please (Please), please (Please), please

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mellowmusings · 9 days ago

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Blessed mistakes | part 1 Azriel x reader

prologue part2

A/N—I wasn't even going to continue this series, but thank you all for the love I get on my fics. I literally love you all so much. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Summary- After over 5 centuries of waiting Azriel hasn't found his mate, given up all hope of any chance of finding her he decides to start pursuing Elain, not seeing what was in front of him all along.

Part One: Silent Distance

The days had become quieter, colder. Azriel had hardly noticed the shift at first. There had been no sharp, clear break, no moment of realization that something between him and Y/N had changed. It was more like the subtle dimming of light, a slow fading that he couldn't quite place, and by the time he realized the distance, it felt too late to fix.

He was busy. Always busy. Missions, meetings, responsibilities—his life had become a blur of endless duties, all of which he threw himself into with a fervor that bordered on obsession. Every waking moment was occupied with something—someone. His brothers, his work, and, in the rare quiet moments, the heavy weight of his own thoughts.

But through all of that, there had been Y/N. Always there. Always steady. Always understanding. She had been his anchor, his confidante. She always knew when to stay silent, when to speak, when to pull him out of his head and into the present. He had always relied on her in ways he hadn’t even fully understood.

It wasn’t that Azriel didn’t care. He did. More than he could admit, especially to himself. But there were things he couldn’t change—things like his duties and his... impossible feelings. Feelings for someone who would never see him the way he saw her. And that someone was always there, too, always lingering just outside of his reach. It was easier, in some ways, to focus on the work, to throw himself into the mission, to avoid the vulnerability of his own emotions.

And so, he did.

Y/N had stopped coming around as often. She was still there, in the background, but it was clear she wasn’t the same. She didn’t linger after meetings anymore. She didn’t tease him, didn’t joke like she used to. Her presence, once a constant comfort, had become a quiet thing—distant, even when she was standing right next to him. She seemed to slip away, a little more each day, but Azriel didn’t notice, not at first.

It wasn’t until he found himself in the war room late one evening, alone with his thoughts, that he felt it. The absence. The silence in the air that was too thick, too suffocating. He looked up from the maps strewn across the table, expecting to see Y/N by the door or leaning against the wall, ready to offer some lighthearted comment about how the plan was absurd. But she wasn’t there.

He frowned, a small pang of unease flaring in his chest. He hadn’t seen her much lately, had barely spoken to her in the last few days. Busy, he reminded himself. He was busy, after all. But it didn’t sit right.

Azriel left the war room in search of her, making his way down the familiar corridors of the House of Wind. He passed Mor’s room first, saw the flicker of light under the door, and for a moment, the idea of knocking—of spending time with her—felt... comforting. But he didn’t. He couldn’t focus on that right now.

Finally, he found her. Y/N was sitting alone in the garden, her back to him, staring out at the moonlit horizon. She looked so small, like a silhouette against the night. It struck him, in that moment, how much he missed her presence. How long had it been since they’d shared a quiet evening like this, just the two of them? How long had it been since she’d smiled like she meant it?

"Y/N?" His voice was tentative, unsure, as though he wasn’t sure if he should disturb the quiet of the night.

She turned slightly, just enough for him to see her face. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but she blinked quickly, brushing it off. "I didn’t hear you come in," she said, her voice flat.

He frowned, taking a few steps toward her. "Are you alright?"

"I’m fine," she said quickly, her smile tight and forced. It didn’t reach her eyes. "Just needed some space."

Azriel hesitated, his instincts telling him that something was wrong. He knelt down beside her, his eyes searching her face. "Y/N..." He trailed off, unsure of how to push through the wall she’d built between them. "What’s going on?"

She met his gaze, her lips pressed together in a thin line. The silence stretched between them, heavy and thick, before she finally spoke, her voice low. "I’m not sure I belong here anymore, Az."

His chest tightened at her words, but he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t find the words. She wasn’t the one to pull away, not like this. Not so... cold.

"You’re still my friend, Y/N," he finally said, his voice low, almost too soft.

She nodded, her expression unreadable. "I know. But that’s the thing, Az. I’m just... a friend." The words hung in the air between them like a curse.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. The weight of the unspoken truth crashed over him. Y/N had always been more than a friend to him, but he had never been able to show her that. She had never been anything more than a shadow behind the love he couldn’t admit, a shadow he had taken for granted.

"I’ve been thinking," she continued, her voice trembling just slightly, but her gaze remained steady. "I need to leave for a while. I volunteered for diplomatic work—there’s a mission to the Autumn Court. I’ll be gone for some time."

Azriel blinked, surprised, and instinctively reached out for her arm. "What? No, Y/N. You don’t have to go. You don’t need to leave."

But her eyes were already averted, a distance between them that he couldn’t cross. "I think I do, Az. I think I need to get away from here. From you."

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. She didn’t wait for him to respond, didn’t wait for him to make things right, because she knew that things couldn’t be fixed. Not anymore.

"I’ll be gone in a few days," she said quietly, standing up, brushing the dirt off her clothes. "I hope you’ll be... alright."

Azriel watched her walk away, his heart sinking lower with each step she took. She didn’t look back, didn’t wait for him to say anything else. And as she disappeared into the darkness of the hall, Azriel finally felt it. The sting of something lost. The realization that he had been too blind to see it, too focused on his own distractions to notice what had been right in front of him all along. taglist- @anarchiii @er1023 @clementine111002 @sunnyspycat

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paceprompting · 24 days ago

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a ballad in translation

@steddieholidaydrabbles

Eddie didn’t get home until late.

It was his own fault. They actually finished recording early, and rest of the band headed out with their unusual gift of free time. But Eddie, since they’d paid for the time anyway, stayed behind to work out some of the kinks in a song he’d been working on in secret.

Melodies and lyrics were easy enough to do in his head and on paper, but when he pulled out his sweetheart, someone always wanted to listen. Steve, especially, liked to sit close to one of the speakers, and feel the vibrations along with the little bit of sound he could still hear. Liked to watch Eddie’s fingers dance across the strings and the frets.

The studio had been the best place to finally lay down what had only been in his head. Hear it out loud and figure out the parts that needed a better transition, or where he might fit in an echo of the main melody somewhere in the bridge.

By the time he finally finished, an hour past their original reservation, the song wasn’t done yet—but it was getting there.

Eddie flicked the lights twice as he walked into the kitchen, offering an apologetic smile when Steve turned from the sink.

Steve set his hands on his hips, frowning.

Eddie raised his hands to his chest, signing meekly, ‘Hey, Stevie.’

In response, Steve tapped his fingers on his sides.

‘I ordered Chinese. Extra spring rolls. Should be here in,’ Eddie checked his watch. ‘Ten minutes?’

Steve stepped forward, eyes narrowed as he considered Eddie’s bribery.

‘Recording go long?’

Eddie bit at his lower lip. Steve raised his brow.

‘Sort of?’ he answered. Steve cleared his throat, clearly wanting more details. Eddie flexed his fingers, and said, ‘I was working on something. Just me losing track of time.’

Something other than the kitchen lights sparkled in Steve’s eyes. For all that Steve had bemoaned Eddie’s taste in music—both listening and creating—he jumped at every opportunity to be the first to know about anything and everything Corroded Coffin put to track.

‘New song?’ he asked, a true smile forming on his lips.

Eddie rolled his eyes, knowing he was caught. ‘Yes, you dork.’

He’d somehow managed to keep it a secret from the man he lived with for about three months. Cat had to come out of the bag sometime.

‘Can I listen?’ Steve had crossed the room into Eddie’s space, his hands signing frantically.

Eddie danced away, playfully narrowing his eyes as he signed back, ‘Not finished yet.’

Steve reached out for him, curving an arm around Eddie’s waist and pulling him back against his chest. He swept Eddie’s hair out of the way and tucked his nose against Eddie’s throat, dragging up until his lips grazed the shell of his ear.

“Please, Eds?” Steve whispered.

Over the years, they fallen more and more into signing. At first, just so they could both learn ASL as quickly as possible by making it their primary form of conversation. The only times Steve did speak out loud was when Eddie walked off while in the middle of signing, forgetting that Steve had to see to understand him, and then Steve had to call out for Eddie to come back and repeat himself.

And, of course, when he really wanted to get his way.

Steve learned quickly, way back when, that Eddie’s weakness was the low timbre of Steve’s voice and his wide palms over the span of Eddie’s ribs. Even if Eddie wasn’t already up for most anything Steve could come up with, it wasn’t hard to convince him when Steve was involved.

Steve had…not taken it well when the doctors told him he was starting to lose his hearing. Between all the concussions and the still-unknown extent of the symptoms from dealing so closely with the Upside Down, the doctors had acted like Steve was getting off easy compared to the recovery from the demobat scars.

But when they’d finally started to think maybe the bullshit was over and done with—all those years from ‘83 into ‘87 had come back once again with a vengeance.

Most days were better now.

Steve still hated wearing the hearing aids. He also hated not wearing them, especially when everybody was over and he struggled to be part of the conversation, as much as Eddie could keep up with his signing. But not everyone had the everyday practice, as much as they all tried with ASL.

Although, they both enjoyed this particular activity that had come from Steve losing his hearing.

It wasn’t all gone. If Steve sat close enough to speakers with his hands and head pressed against them, he could heart the drums and the bass, and sometimes the vibrations of the vocals.

Steve could hear Eddie sing, if he laid his head against Eddie’s chest.

Eddie turned his head toward Steve, nodding.

They moved together into the living room, Steve only releasing his hold so that Eddie could sit first on the couch. He joined beside him, ducking under Eddie’s arm as he laid it across the back of the cushions and settled with one hand on Eddie’s thigh and his head laid near his collarbone.

He traced an ‘ok’ into Eddie’s leg when he was ready.

Eddie took a slow breath and began to sing.

It was more of a ballad than anything else he’d ever written. Not too slow, but focused on the guitar going along with the vocal melody, rather than a chaos of drums and quick series of chords.

He didn’t have all the words yet. Some completed lines about getting through by following these deep brown eyes through hell and back. What he didn’t have figured out, he hummed the melody for.

The entire song was in his deepest register and a low key.

So, even without his hearing aids, Steve would be able to hear or feel every word, every note.

After all, it was for him.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie microfic #steddie fanfic #steddie drabble #steddie fanfiction #established relationship #singer eddie munson #deaf steve harrington #hoh steve harrington

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rafestyles · 27 days ago

Text

celeb crush | drew starkey smau

part twelve (づ￣ ³￣)づ

masterlist

11 | 12 | 13

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　　:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

a/n: hiiiiii :) it's been a minute!! the holidays kinda got the best of me BUT we are back!! i hope you guys enjoy this part!! we've got some drama coming up ;) please as always don't forget to like and reblog!!! it means the world to me :)

taglist: @aariahnaa / @rafegf-real / @frankoceanluvr11 / @percysley / @rafesdrew / @simpfomarvel / @sovuckie / @wh0re4drewstarkey / @ethanthequeefqueen / @rafeycameronsgf / @simpfomarvel / @ilovefiction4lmen / @girl-detective16 / @scream4mami / @missamericanablog / @littlefreak-liz / @obx-archives / @purplerose291/@realizemandi97 / @tqd4455 / @xoxo-ada / @angelicameron / @ursogorgeous13 / @katiebby04 / @rafecamerons-national-anthem / @lilyhyperfixates / @louxmcl / @luvhsien / @wdwbts101 / @amel1ee / @wcnorris / @1998xoxoamber /@pogueprincesa / @sweetlike-sugarplum / @evelynffics / @sheslikeacurse / @salvatorerafe @marleymarleymarleymarley / @grapejuice32 / @vivian-555 / @lovingsturniolo

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jyoongim · 11 months ago

Note

Hey I love your work so much! Could you please write about alastor with a wife who’s just like Jessica rabbit and ended up in heaven because she didn’t know about him killing but came down to visit him after meeting Charlie when she went up there. I just think I’d be wild for someone like Al to have a wife like that

AAAAOOOOGGGGAAAAA!!!! I could have written this in soooo many ways but i think its a bit like one i already wrote but I hope you enjoy nevertheless!!! @alientee

I highly recommend you listen to The Night We Met, Copacabana, and Why don’t You Do Right!!!! That’s what I envisioned for this one request!!!!

The meeting between the Princess of Hell and the Angelic council was a mess.

The Princess had a look of defeat, so you took it upon yourself to let her show you her hotel.

You prompted that you will be the one to go down and see if it were possible that demons could be redeemed.

I mean everyone deserves a second chance right?

You were talk even the worst sinner still possessed some sort of decency.

So you followed the Princess to her hotel to show you around.

Charlie was elated that you didn’t think her dream was just some fluck.

She asked you all sorts of questions. How you ended up in heaven and how was your life before you died.

”Believe it or not I was a singer at a gentlemen’s lounge. Oh darlin you should have seen me in my prime! Jazz, booze, and oh I had the sweetest husband.”

Charlie was shocked. I mean, yes you were breathtaking, but you really didn’t seem like the type to be tied down to some guy.

You giggled at her expression. It was often the look men gave you when you refused their advances, happily boasting you were a taken woman and not some hussy that could warm their beds.

”Oh you’ll really find that the hotel has character. Our hotel manager might be a little…hmmm creepy but don’t pay him any mind” she said opening the door to the hotel to lead you through the lobby.

And character it did.

The interior was old-fashion but it had charm. A bit masculine for a young woman to run it, but if the manager was a man, you could see why it looked the way it did.

You took a seat on a couch and waited as Charlie went to gather the residents so you would meet them.

You were slightly nervous. You were in Hell and hadn’t the slightest clue what demons even looked like.

You fiddled with your ring, how you wished to see your husband.

”Everyone we have a special guest so pleeeeaasssee be on your best behavior” you heard Charlie say.

You caught sight of a gnarly bar and the bartender, you smiled

”shot of whiskey on the rock love” Husker turned around and his eyes widened, yours did too “Why i never thought…Husker?!” You squealed happily, lunging across the bar to hug the demon. He smiled and patted your back, pulling away “Husker what ya doing down here?” He gave you a deadpan look, making you laugh. You then thought about it..

If Husker was down here then that…

”Charlie you should have said such beauty in our circle i would have cleaned up a lot better” a voice purred, making your head turn.

A tall spider smiled at you, giving you a flirtatious wink, which you sent back with a wave.

A little cyclone, a snake, and a seemingly human woman entered the room.

Charlie smiled “This lovely angel has decided to have a look around to prove Heaven wrong”

You introduced yourself.

”Now i know you’re not here long so Ill give you a quick-”

Charlie was interrupted by a radio-like voice.

”Don’t tell me you’re going to give a tour without me Charlie? You know we work as a team-” his words trailed off as he caught sight of you.

You stood, a happy smile on your face “Alastor baby!” You practically ran into his arms.

”Ain’t no way…”

”Noooo”

”oh welll that do make ssssennssseee”

”Pretty lady!”

everyone watched in shock as Alastor twirled you around, peppering your face in kisses.

”oooohhh my dear what a surprise this is!” He said hugging you. You heard a throat clear and broke your hold on him, turning to see everyone confused.

You gave a sheepish smile. Alastor beamed and hooked a arm around your waist

”Everyone this doll here is my wife! The prettiest thing that ever graced the earth!” You playfully slapped his chest.

Everyone's mouths dropped.

”WHAT!?”

You sat in Alastor’s lap as you told how you knew the red demon. Rambling on about how you two met and how your lives were like.

They just couldn’t process it.

YOU were married to Alastor.

Married to the most feared Overlord in Hell.

Wife to the Radio Demon.

How the fuck?

You were an angel? Literally and figuratively!

”How the hell did Mr. Creepy face fancy talk here get a broad like you?” Angel asked.

Alastor’s chest puffed with pride. His smile almost broke his face “with charm and wit my deluded friend” He said as he leaned his chin on your shoulder.

You giggled, it was always entertaining to see people's reactions to who your husband was.

You turned to Alastor, lips pouty with a feigned upset look

”Now i been dead forever and not once have I seen you. Why? Why weren’t you in Heaven?”

Alastor stiffened, how was he to tell you that during your time alive he had killed many people just for the fun of it?

“Weeelll my dear I might have killed a few people”

You blinked and then thought about it.

It kind of made sense, he used to be out ‘hunting’ at weird times of day, be gone at night saying he was working.

You had a hard time getting stains out of his clothing.

That do explains some things.

”So do you regret anything?” He let out a laugh

nope. Not a single thing.

You shook your head “well since I’m heeeerrrrreee…why don’t we swing by juke joint, if you’re here, I’m sure Mimzy is here. I could use a good time. Its stuffy up there in Heaven. No fun at all”

Charlie perked “Ahh yes you must see how the sinners here are really like and what better than enagaging with them?”

Angel smirked “I know a place waaaayy better than some old booze lounge”

A club. You were at a club.

Your eyes honed in on a mic on the stage and it just happened to be open night.

You batted your eyes and just like that you were on stage.

The lights dimmed and you flipped through some songs to pick.

You might have been a bit old-fashioned but you were caught up on some of the modern singers that came through heaven.

The band nodded at your choice and you took hold of the mic.

With a twirl of your hand, you dawned on a 1920s theme look.

The gang mouths were jaw dropped as you started to sing, the audience was captivated. Catcalls and whistles filled the air.

Alastor felt static run through him as he sighed lovingly as you came down the stage and sat on his lap, mock fixing his bow tie as you sang. You teasingly nipped at his lips, causing his ears to twitch as you smiled going back to waltzing around the stage.

You smiled as bowed as the crowd exploded with cheers and applause as the lights came back on.

Ain’t no way Alastor had a bad broad like you, but the way you happily giggled as he whispered in your ear, pulling you into his chest…

There wasn’t denying it.

You held the Radio Demon’s dark heart.

His sweet, alluring wife

who would have thought?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x y/n #alastor x angel reader #alastor x singer reader

2K notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 6 months ago

Text

── ୨୧ !　𝗦𝗢𝗙𝗧 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗛 | 𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗠

　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x singer!reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N and Matt have been in a stable relationship hidden from the media for months, until they were forced by it to do a soft launch.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, from anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Y/N²: I hope yall like it! it was my first time doing something like that, and I actually loved it!! I was dying to do some famous!reader, so I took the liberty to do it with this one, I hope it's okay.

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liked by arianagrande, taylorswift and 3,028,299 others

ynsinstagram THE SECRET OF US TOUR STARTS IN 15 DAYS 😭😩 who's excited?

view all 67,044 comments

ynfan1 ME?????? DUH

ynfan2 THIS IS GOING TO BE HISTORICAL, WRITE MY WORDS ‼️

ynfan3 well, considering the pre sale broke her website, all stadium dates sold out in seconds, all social media talking about it...

conangrey I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU AGAIN 🙌🏻

ynfan4 I'M GOING INSANE, IDK WHAT TO WEAR 😭

sabrinacarpenter YES YES YES 🔥

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liked by sturniolofan1, sturniolofan2 and 5,028 others

sturnioloteam Matt spotted out and alone in London today!

view all 3,065 comments

sturniolofan1 wtf is he doing in London?

sturniolofan2 didn't Chris just post a picture in LA? 😭

sturnioloandynfan1 wait, isn't today the London concert of Y/N’s tour??? 🤡

sturniolofan3 wtf does this have to do with Matt?

sturniolofan4 since when Matt goes to other country ALONE????

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liked by oliviarodrigo, harrystyles and 4,268,459 others

ynsinstagram HIIIII LONDON 🎀🇬🇧

view all 478,384 comments

ynfan1 SHE'S SUCH AN ANGEL 🥺

ynfan2 wait, why does she have 2 coffees?

ynfan3 maybe she's with someone from her band?

sturnioloandynfan2 WAIT A MINUTE ‼️ what's Matt's car key doing on her purse????????

ynfan4 what do you mean?

sturnioloandynfan3 OMG TRUE! that's his keychain 🫠

sturniolofan5 DID I HEARD MATT????

oliviarodrigo LONDON GIRL RIGHT THERE BABY ‼️🇬🇧

ynfan5 I LOVE YOUR FRIENDSHIP 😭

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liked by christophersturniolo, nathandoe8 and 1,029,268 others

matthew.sturniolo I'm everywhere but currently in london 🇬🇧

view all 158,472 comments

sturniolofan8 so we're just gonna ignore the elephant in the room or what?

sturnioloandynfan4 I've never thought about this possibility but...

ynfan9 I'm so sure they're the cutest together 🥺

sturniolofan6 yall are so damn dramatic, no one confirmed anything, stop being so delusional

sturniolofan3 stop being so unhappy dude, ew

christophersturniolo bring me some fish and chips when you get back

ynfan4 IS THAT Y/N'S NECKLACE?????

nicolassturniolo london boy

ynandsturniolofan2 is that supposed to be an analogy to taylor's song? 😭

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liked by ynfan2, sturniolofan6 and 268,459 others

people Singer Y/N Y/L/N and youtuber Matthew Sturniolo were spotted together today in London.

view all 85,730 comments

ynfan8 wtf is wrong with yall?? leave Y/N alone, she deserves privacy!

ynfan5 omg it HAD to be people

sturniolofan7 omg no way matt is on people 😭

nicolassturniolo this is honestly so messed up and such a huge invasion of privacy. please, delete this!

sabrinacarpenter I hate you guys. this is so mean. delete it right now!

ynfan9 how the fuck yall always find a way to disturb Y/N's peace?

sturniolofan3 OMG OMG OMG OMG

ynfan6 everything makes sense now

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liked by ynfan2, sturniolofan3 and 1,938 others

ynandsturniolofan6 OMG??? NO WAY I JUST FIND MATT IN Y/N'S CONCERT 😭😭 that's my favorite day ever ✋🏻

view all 827 comments

sturniolofan1 wait, what??? he was at the line to enter the stadium?

ynandsturniolofan6 no! he was about to enter Y/N's backstage area

sturniolofan7 omg he's looking so fucking good 😩

ynfan8 yeah Y/N, I get it now

sturnioloandynfan5 it's SO CUTE the fact he came from LA to see her in London 😭

sturniolofan4 but why London, thought? doesn't she have three concerts in LA next month?

ynfan5 IS THAT Y/N'S NECKLACE AGAIN???? I'M GOING CRAZY

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liked by sturniolotriplets, madisonbeer and 2,628,038 others

matthew.sturniolo we met here, on a random avenue in London, on the first day of your vacation and the second of mine, and neither of us knew where to go, and we ended up visiting tourist spots together. now we´re here for your sold-out show, something you used to dream about just some months ago, and i’m so grateful to be part of this. I love you, petal. you deserve this more than anyone else.

view all 1,728,426 comments

nicolassturniolo PARENTS!!!

christopher.sturniolo that's beautiful man

ynfan5 stop this is so cute 😭

sturniolofan1 "petal" LSKSISMAKAMDO 😭😭😭😭

sturniolofan2 I've never thought I would see Matt posting smt with so many words

ynandsturniolofan3 I'M CRYING WHAT

ynfan7 so... it's been happening for MONTHS???

madisonbeer you'll make me cry, I love you two so much 🥺

nathandoe8 Matt is such a soft for Y/N

yourinstagram are you jealous? chris is right there 😌

christopher.sturniolo what's that supposed to mean?

ynsinstagram I owe all of this to you. if it wasn't for all your incentives and belief in me, I wouldn't be here today. I love you so fucking much 🥹🩷

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

tag: matthew.sturniolo

liked by billieeilish, matthew.sturniolo and 5,268,459 others

ynsinstagram The Secret Of Us Tour. London I. June 2024.

view all 872,372 comments

sturniolofan6 was it Matt who took the pic? 🥺

ynsinstagram yes!! 😁

ynfan5 I'm no longer alive, this concert was AMAZING

sturnioloandynfan3 the way Y/N was looking at the back of the stadium ALL THE TIME, smiling like crazy, was the cutest thing ever

ynfan9 the way she look at him??? Matt you're a lucky man

matthew.sturniolo loved every bit of it! ❤️

ynsinstagram love you 🥺🩷

ynfan4 Y/N is the prettiest girl in the world!

matthew.sturniolo agreed

ynandsturniolofan2 they're THE MOMENT!!!

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taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @earth2starkey @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @junnniiieee07 @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @hpyjw @colorthecosmos444 @thewhispersofthewaves @mattslolita @imwetforyourmom @mrl217 @delilahsversion @sturnsmia @mattsfavbitchhh @sturnioloshacker @soursturniolo @blahbel668 @sarosfilms @moncherriis @tobesolonelyjess @zayyluvz

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

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littlechivalry · 24 days ago

Text

Wedding Bell Blues

(no Upside Down AU, meet-ugly, Baker!Steve/wedding singer!Eddie)

Eddie is a wedding musician and it's pretty great actually. It's not the rock star life he dreamed of but it's a damned sight better than most people including him expected of Al Munson's little boy.

Eddie gets to play music. For a living. And he does pretty well. He gets to dress up a little snazzy. He gets free fancy food and a couple of drinks. And he gets to shoot his shot with anybody that looks like fun.

He's good at it too. That's the best part. His younger years spent being a low level drug dealer and a high level weirdo mean he can read a room in an instant. He gets the playlist from the bride usually, presses for some other song ideas, and he can tell who to take requests from at six paces. And who to ignore from across the room.

It's a good time.

Unfortunately not all ceremonies can be winners and based on the tension Eddie has felt from almost everyone involved in today's wedding it was going to be a tough gig.

Everything starts in an hour but Eddie isn't on until the reception so he has plenty of time to grab a smoke before soundcheck. He knows the venue pretty well and there's an alcove next to the vendor loading area. Nice flowers, a decent bench, and it's nowhere near the dumpsters.

This venue butts up against a small patch of woodland and Eddie wonders if he might have time to check it out, see if there's anything inspiring. He doesn't hike but he does enjoy a walk in nature.

Before he gets the chance a baby blue van with 'Steve's Sweets' painted across the side pulls up, blocking his sight line.

He mourns the loss of his view right up until the driver pops the door open and climbs out.

Oh, the beauties nature provides.

Acid wash jeans which under any other circumstances Eddie would laugh at are lovingly hugging possibly the finest ass he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.

The rest of the picture - when he can drag his attention away - is pretty choice too. A soft looking pink sweater, sleeves pushed up to expose sun bronzed skin making Eddie idly wonder if the man is that tan all over.

The crowning glory is a gorgeous head of hair framing a face that Eddie can only describe as pretty.

Eddie tries to turn his attention back to his cigarette. Admiring someone is one thing, leering like a creep is entirely different.

He takes a last drag and drops the filter on the gravel, grinding it out under his feet. Mentally he says farewell to the handsome stranger and turns to go back inside.

Eddie takes two steps before a suit clad man comes out of the building and pushes past him in a rush.

"Steven."

The man's not yelling, but his voice is the kind of loud that demands to be heard.

Eddie turns to watch as the man approaches the van and the other guy, Steve apparently, standing in front of it.

"What the hell are you doing here dressed like that."

Eddie should go inside. This isn't his business. But one of the perks of working weddings was the drama and this was very promising.

He stays where he is, standing just in front of the door. In case either man looks in his direction Eddie actually mimes patting at his jacket like he is looking for his smokes.

"I'm delivering a cake, Dick. And if it wasn't for Diana I wouldn't even be doing that much. She deserves to get something good out of this day."

Eddie bites back a smile, lowering his head a little so he can still watch what was happening ideally without being noticed.

"You will refer to me as father. I believe I have earned at least that much respect."

Eddie feels his eyebrows rise. This kind of drama was another part of why he likes weddings. Better than the soap operas he watches with Uncle Wayne.

"Sure," Steve snorts. "Tell you what, I'll compromise," and he continues, "Riiichaaaard."

"Grow up, Steven. You were invited here as a guest. You had better have a tuxedo in that stupid truck of yours, the ceremony starts in an hour."

"I was hired to bake a cake. Part of my fee includes delivery. That is literally the only reason I'm here. You and the future ex-Mrs Harrington will have to celebrate without me. Try not to cry yourself to sleep about it."

"You little asshole," Richard snarls. "You think you're better than me. You think I wanted you here? You owe me your presence. I have important people coming to this wedding and I need them to see my dutiful son at my side."

The baker laughs, a low nasty chuckle that sends a perverse shiver down Eddie's back.

"Tell you what, Dick, I'm booked up today but I'll come to your next wedding." Eddie looks up to see Steve is grinning, bright and as sharp as a knife. "I'll even get you a toaster."

Eddie lurches in place as he sees Richard lunge towards Steve. He is too far away to stop the man but he has to do something.

Before he takes a step the door swings open again and a petite woman comes rushing out.

"Richard?"

Eddie watches as she runs forward tugging at the satin bathrobe she is wrapped in. She freezes a few feet away from what had been brewing into a nasty fight.

"Steve? You're here-- oh, but your suit! Richard? What's going on?"

The older man doesn't turn around, doesn't seem to notice her at all but Eddie watches Steve gingerly move until he is standing between his father and the woman.

"Hey Diana," he says softly. "Sorry you had to see this, dad and me just have a difference of opinion. Everything's fine."

Eddie feels something in him clench. He is very familiar with the tone in Steve's voice. He had heard it from his uncle Wayne to his dad when he was a little kid. It is soft but firm, implacable. Eddie isn't sure exactly what is coming but he can tell Steve knew and that it would be bad.

The venue usually had at least two security patrolling the grounds, more if the reception was expected to be contentious. Eddie doesn't know where they are right now but hopefully not far.

"See what you've done Steven? God, you're useless."

"Richard, don't say that," Diana says, her voice rising.

The older man is turning from pink to red and Eddie can see Steve moving slowly, shifting his father's attention to him.

"That's me, Richard. Useless Steve. Flunked out of college and he bakes cookies like some kind of fairy. You sure you want to parade your failure of a son in front of the hoi polloi?"

Eddie hears Diana's gasp from where he's standing. "Steve, what are you talking about? Richard what's going on?"

Richard turns his glare on her and Eddie feels himself moving forward almost against his own will. He's not sure what he'll do when he gets there but he's never been the bystander type.

Steve just laughs. Bright and angry. "I'm not sure what my father told you about our relationship but we don't have one."

"No," she says. "Your father-- he told me-- "

When Eddie met her a few weeks ago he had seen a confident, charming woman that knew exactly what she wanted and was excited to be married. Now she looks confused, maybe even scared.

Eddie has gotten closer to this whole altercation than he wanted to be but since he is there and it looks like Steve and Richard are busy trying to glare holes in each other Eddie steps up to Diana and lightly grasps her elbow.

She startles and turns to face him. Her eyes are wide, wet and staring.

"Mr. Munson," she asks, softly.

Eddie tries to smile. "Mr. Munson is my uncle, ma'am. It's Eddie. Let's get you out of here, okay? Back inside."

Eddie is able to gently guide her a few steps away. He hates turning his back on the other two men but he needs to get Diana out of reach for whatever is about to happen.

"I dont understand," the bride mutters. "Steve used to be such a sweet boy. Mr. Harrin-- Richard. Oh, I'm so silly. Richard. He said-- this is so embarassing."

Her voice is pitched and tight and if she isn't crying yet she would be soon. Eddie resolves to get her inside and into the arms of literally any friendly face.

"Hey," Eddie says. "Let's just--" he scrambles for a name. Anna? Annie? "Amy, right? Your maid of honor? Let's get you to her, okay. You can sit down."

Diana nods.

Behind him he can hear Richard and Steve hissing noxious words back and forth. There is no shouting but the air is heavy and hot with anger. Even though he was outside Eddie feels like he can't breathe.

Eddie gets Diana to the door, hadn't realized how close they really were, maybe 30 feet if that. It's open, anxious faces framed in weathered oak. He hands Diana off to her Maid of Honor who quickly sweeps the woman deeper into the hall and then he nods to Patricia Abernathy, the event space manager.

"Think we're gonna have a cancellation," he says, nodding towards the departing woman.

She rolls her eyes. "Can't say I'm surprised. I had a bad feeling about this one."

Eddie scoffs. "You have a bad feeling about all of them."

He turns to face where the two men are still in a stand off in front of the van. "You're not wrong though, I think. At least I hope they cancel."

Patricia snorts. "We got the deposits locked down and the contract is airtight so if they cancel we still get fifty percent of the remaining fee. I'll take that for the rest of the day off."

"You got a date, Patty? And it's not me? You're breaking my heart."

"Ha," she says flatly. "That pretty boy is more your type and from the way he's talking you're in with a chance. Now you keep an eye on those two. Security is on their way, we'll see if they can get here before these guys start really butting heads."

Eddie nods. It isn't the first time he had been called on to help manage fractious families.

He turns back in time to see Richard take a swing at Steve. The younger guy steps back out of the way and Eddie can hear his mocking laugh as far away as the door.

He moves closer to the two of them. Eddie isn't going to get in the middle of the fight but maybe if he reminds them there are other people around that might be enough to calm them down.

He watches Richard lunge forward and swing again. This time Steve can't move away fast enough and the blow glances off of his cheek.

"Hey," Eddie calls, now jogging towards them. "Hey, knock it off! You wanna fight take it somewhere else!"

Steve turns to face Eddie, opening his mouth as if he was going to say something but all that comes out is a low grunt as Richard hits him in the shoulder and shoves him to the ground.

Eddie throws himself forward, pushing Richard away. "What do you think you're doing," he shouts in the man's face but Richard doesn't seem to hear, pressing back against Eddie.

"You little bastard," Richard shouts at his son. "You're worthless! I don't know why I bothered."

"Go to hell," Steve replies.

That seems to make Richard even angrier which Eddie hadn't thought was possible. He isn't sure he will be able to hold him off much longer.

"Hey, what's going on here," a low even voice calls. It is the venue security guard, his partner just behind him with a hand on his radio.

Eddie feels himself relax and then stumbles back as Richard pushes him aside to fall on his son again.

Eddie turns to see both guards trying to pull the older man away as he continues to hit his son, screaming obscenities.

Not sure how to help, Eddie stands by. When he sees an opening he lunges forward and takes hold of Steve's shoulders, pulling him back and away.

The younger man fights against him at first, eyes closed and arms up in front of his face. Eddie figures he probably didn't know whose hands are on him.

"Hey. Hey. It's me, Eddie. Shit. I work here. You're safe, security has your dad. You're safe."

Eddie steps back, loosening his grip on Steve but still keeping one hand on his shoulder, trying to sooth him.

A few feet away Richard is still twisting, trying to get free and attack his son again, but Eddie can see the guards have a good hold on him and it doesn't look like they will be letting go any time soon.

As Steve calms down Eddie lets go of his shoulder, instead crouching next to him. "You doing okay? I saw you had you hands up but he got a few hits in."

Steve lowers his arms and sits upright. He twists his neck back and forth and shifts his shoulders before opening his eyes and looking up at Eddie. "I'm okay. I'm fine. God, it's a soap opera isn't it? Fuck."

Eddie lets himself drop into a seat next to the other man. They both watch in silence as the guards march Steve's father around the corner to the front of the event hall.

"You know the bride? Diana," the guy asks. "She was my babysitter. When I was eleven."

"Oof," Eddie says. "So she was--"

"Seventeen then, and now it's been twenty years for her and about three wives for him."

"Scandalous," Eddie murmurs. He sees Steve smile and feels relieved. "What will people say. The 'hoi polloi' I believe you called them?"

Steve snorts. "A crowd of empty suits that exist solely to tell my dad how respected he is. Will he get arrested?"

"Maybe," Eddie says. "I think that might be up to you. It's assault at least."

"Ugh," Steve says, rubbing his face. "That's all I need. I'm trying to get him out of my life."

"Well," Eddie says. "I can attest that jail is very good at keeping deadbeat dads out of your life."

Steve starts laughing and then winces, wrapping an arm around his stomach.

"Shit, you are hurt," Eddie says, scrambling to his feet. "Do you need an ambulance? Patty probably called 911 by now."

Steve waves him off. "I'm fine. This is not my first fight and my old man hits-- well, I was gonna say 'like a girl' but then my best friend would kick my ass and I'm way more scared of her," Steve says, laughing softly.

He looks up at Eddie and holds out his free hand. "You gonna help me up? Or is chivalry dead?"

"Chivalry," Eddie repeats. "You a damsel in distress?"

"I might as well be," Steve says. "Now come on."

Eddie laughs and reaches down, gently guiding Steve back to his feet. He feels the man's weight leaning on him for a few seconds and despite the circumstances Eddie has to admit Steve feels good in his arms.

Once he is steady Steve steps back and Eddie lets him go.

Steve moves to the van and leans up against the metal surface. Eddie walks over to join him.

"So," Steve says. "What next?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I honestly don't know. The wedding is canceled, for sure. For today at least."

"Just for today? You think she'll marry him still?"

Eddie shrugs. "I have no idea. I wouldn't but then I wouldn't have said yes in the first place."

Steve leans back, tapping his head against the van a few times before he turns back to Eddie. "You know the worst part? This was my last delivery. Now, I have to deal with this stupid cake. Three tiers of lemon and raspberry." He laughs. "Do you think a homeless shelter will take a wedding cake?"

Eddie grins. "I don't see why not. At least something good will come out of today."

Steve looks up towards the hall. "I feel like I should say something-- to Diana, I mean. She was always really nice to me, she deserved better than this."

"I have found that good or bad people rarely get what they deserve. You don't really owe her anything but I can't fault the impulse." Turning towards the hall, Eddie gestures for Steve to follow him. "Just-- just don't apologize for him? Okay?"

Steve walks in silence for a few steps before he coughs roughly. His voice is thick and choked and he coughs again. "I, uh, I stopped apologizing for him a long time ago. His faults are his own. I just wish I didn't get dragged into it."

Eddie laughs. "I know that song."

"Yeah," Steve asks.

Eddie nods. They are at the door and he pulls it open for the other man, gesturing him in with a bow.

Steve stops in the doorway as Eddie stands up again. He is framed by the light inside and the scent of hothouse roses comes drifting out into the open air. Eddie can picture him suddenly in that moment standing at a balcony limned by moonlight.

"Hey Sunshine," Eddie says softly. "Buy me a drink and we can trade stories?"

Steve smiles. "Yeah," he says, with a small laugh. "Sure, why not." He holds up his hands, still dirty and scraped from the asphalt. "Help me get cleaned up and let me say something to Diana. Then we can talk."

Eddie nods, reaches out, and places his hands gently over Steve's. "Sounds good to me."

#fanfiction #fanfic #littlechivalry #my writing #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #meet ugly #baker steve #wedding singer eddie

391 notes · View notes

totalswag · 2 months ago

Note

Hii I have reques if you feel comfortable with it!

I read your drew fic with the arrest and I loved it!! I was wondering if reader was preforming bed chem outro instead of the back up singer it’s Drew and they get a little to carried away in front of the crowd. If That makes sense💕

bed chem ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note thank you for sending this request and it makes glad you liked my arrested for being too hot fic. my requests are still open and i'm gonna be working on the requests that are in my inbox right now from recent requests. also, you can picture singer!reader picture any way you want <3 i’m using sabrina carpenter as inspo for singer!reader.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary drew coming on stage at the very end of your song and you both get lost in the moment for a second in front of fans.

warning(s) mentions of intimate positions, kissing, touching.

Earlier in the show, you arrested Drew, your boyfriend, for being too hot— everyone in the arena went crazy seeing him. What they aren't expecting to Drew making a second appearance.

At the very end of bed chem one of your backup dancers will come into frame holding a camera on his shoulder, and when the curtain closes you pretend to do intimate things then the stage lights go off.

Prior to the show you asked Drew if he would be okay to go this— he agreed. Making sure he's comfortable was your first priority. He talked about different ways coming on stage that were so funny.

You start singing the final chorus of bed chem on your knees, legs wide out and free hand in front of you as you lean forward. The curtain signal is about to close. From the corner of your vision, you can see Drew approaching with the camera on his shoulder, dressed in dark pants and a white tank top—fans immediately began to cheer as he entered the frame.

He looked so good you couldn't control the redness of your cheeks spreading like a teenager seeing their crush.

To make the moment better, you sway your body around on the bed, allowing yourself to relax. Drew is looking at you with a smile on his face as he gets closer to the edge of the bed.

Motioning him to get closer— he lifts one leg on the bed as the curtain makes its way around the bed. Slowly setting down the camera on the edge of the bed.

You moved closer to Drew, pressing your bodies together in a false display of intimacy. Drew played along well, massaging your sides as he drew you closer. The crowd's cheers intensified, and the excitement in the arena reached a fever pitch.

You leaned in and kissed Drew deeply, as the curtain began to close behind you. The kiss was supposed to be a tease, a staged performance for the spectators, but you found yourself becoming lost in it.

Drew's hands crept up to cradle your face, his touch soft yet forceful. You forgot about the crowd, the cameras, and everything. It was just you and Drew, completely lost in each other.

Your hands drag down his bare chest, and he leaps forward into you at the gentleness of your touch, sending lightning down your body.

Once the lights turn off you both pull away from each other. Everything in your body right now is all over the place you think you are gonna explode. You are breathing heavily.

"You always know how to put on a show," he said quietly, his voice hoarse.

You giggled softly, your fingertips tracing the contour of his jawline. "And you always know how to make it unforgettable."

⎯⎯ my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.

@chenslucy @rosezza @rafeyslamb @runningfrom2am @starkeyvhs @mymultiveres @percysley @diqldrunks @drewsephrry @francislovergirl @kiiyomei @sukuna-wafiu @skyslowalking @kneelarmhstrung @inthelibrarybtw @superlegend216 @liliummz @bxmaaa @ifwfratboychris @the1nonlyariana

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fictionalmenxyn · 4 months ago

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•✧𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰✧•

Pairing: Drew x singer/actress!reader

(The parts that are Itallic are what you would see in the video rather than in person)

Warnings: language, slightly emotional reader (for good reason)

Face claim: Billie Eilish (what a cutie 😊)

•✧•✧•

Once again, your time has come. Your yearly interview.

This time, Drew was sat behind the camera. You sat in the directors chair. You smiled at the camera and spoke “Hi, I’m Y/n Y/l/n.. it’s currently October eighteenth, twenty-twenty-four” you smile.

Other versions of you repeat those words, only difference is the year… oh! And also your appearance, obviously.

Drew was sat on a chair opposite you and behind the camera. A big smile on his face. He loved these interviews of you.

First question ‘biggest thing that happened in your career?’ You smiled and scrunched your nose. You then lean forward in your chair and whispered the camera “I got two oscars.” You balled your fists in excitement and scrunched your face. “Two! Not one, but two… still feels like a dream”

You watch your year-younger self, “I got six Grammys! Ah!” You chuckle at your past self. You looked to the camera “two oscars and six Grammys… damn..” you and Drew laugh.

‘What’s the most important things to you right now?’ You smiled at the question. You tilt your head to look around the camera and to Drew. You answered “my love, my everything… Drew mother fucking Starkey…” he chuckled. You wave him over “c’mere, babe…” he got the green light from the director and walked over to you.

You opened your arms, he leaned down and hugged you as you sat in the chair. As he pulls away slightly, he kissed your forehead. You smiled “this is whats important to me… my Drew…” you both knew the fans were gonna make edits and comments about this. You were honestly excited to see the edits. You loved how cute your fans were when it came to you and Drew.

You and Drew watched your younger self “uh probably my boyfriend… he’s the best-” younger you looked to the camera “I love ya, Drew!” You both laughed.

Drew kissed your forehead once more, then went back behind the camera; sitting in his chair once again.

‘Craziest fan moment?’ You answered “it was at New York, my latest tour. I noticed a girl in the crowd. She looked like she had something in her hand. So when we did our usual ten minute break. I walked over to her, cause she didn’t leave her spot. She held a box, saying it was a gift for me and she couldn’t get vip tickets to meet backstage. So I opened it, and i literally broke down crying, happy tears of course. What was in the box, was a handmade painting of Drew and I. In a frame, it was our photo I said was my favourite of us. On the set of outer banks, still dressed in our characters clothes. On our characters dirt bikes, our heads against each others. She said it took her eighteen hours. It’s not a crazy moment, but definitely sentimental…”

You watched younger you, ‘dude, everyone kept throwing T-shirts with Drew’s face on stage!” You laughed. Still having them shirts. You never got rid of them. Never crossed you mind to get rid of them.

‘Do you have a boyfriend?’ You smiled and shook your head “no I don’t…” your grin grew bigger as you lifted your left hand up “I got a fiancé!!” Drew’s smile only grew bigger. God you were so cute in his mind. Always have, always will.

You look at last year’s clip “yes I do, Drew, my childhood bestie, and lover, love his soul… miss my baby, haven’t saw him in a few hours… gonna see him later though excited.” You laughed at your younger you.

‘Describe your style in three words’ you smiled and tilted your head “open to opportunity.”

Your 2023 self said “live laugh Drew” you bursted out laughing and replied “I said that?!” You laughed.

‘Favourite movie?’ You smiled “ooo probably Beetlejuice… the original, although the new one is really good.. you know I love a good Tim Burton movie…”

You answered “Batman The Dark Knight, Cillian and Heath are soooo good in that movie, so was Christian Bale… but Cillian and Heath…” you playfully roll your eyes at younger you. You remarked “god I was practically drooling over that movie” you laugh.

‘What are you working on currently?’ You smiled “well, as you recently found out, I’m working on an album… which is half done… and I’m starring in the newest Outer Banks season, once again…”

2023 you spoke “a movie and Outer Banks… oh! And a single…”

‘One thing you’d like to do with your career this year?’ You smiled “as usual, to star in a Tim Burton movie…” you wink at the camera.

Younger you answered “obviously star in a Tim Burton movie, pretty sure I said that since like the third year, right??” You chuckle.

You look to the camera, “thanks for checking in on me, Vanity Fair… once again a great yearly catch up! I love you guys!” You waved Drew to come back over. Which he did. He leaned down to get into frame. You both smile, you spoke “we love you all! See you soon!”

•✧•✧•

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nottswitch · 15 days ago

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— sinners never pray ; a band au

some say love is not for sinners…

sinners never pray – a band that thrives on shock value, some roughness around the edges and a bit of craziness; some say it’s a lot, but what do they know? no boundaries limit the band’s progress, both in their art and more… personal relationships. how you ended up in the middle of such a peculiar circle of individuals who never seem to get off their high, always get themselves into some kind of controversy and live vicariously through their songs, you could never tell. but it only means one thing – you’re at least just as crazy as them, and for that, they endlessly adore you.

…i believe that isn’t true

⟡ lead singer!theo

⟡ drummer!mattheo

⟡ guitarist!lorenzo

⟡ bassist!reader

⟡ navigation ; masterlists ; au collection

#— witch’s aus ☾#sinners never pray #drummer!mattheo #lead singer!theo #guitarist!lorenzo #bassist!reader #mattheo riddle #theo nott #lorenzo berkshire #mattheo riddle x reader #theo nott x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys fanfiction #slytherin boys moodboard #heart and stars divider by cafekitsune

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crushpunky · 5 months ago

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DREW STARKEY

drew starkey x actress!reader masterlist [tag] actress!reader's obx character, caroline, masterlist [tag]

drew starkey x costar!reader [tag]

blurbs how drew and costar!reader met

full fics drew and costar!reader take the glamour friendship test drew and costar!reader’s inside joke

drew starkey x singer!reader [tag]

blurbs drew starkey x singer!reader thoughts !!! escape - an album by singer!reader

full fics singer!reader performs a song for drew

all drew moodboards + social media aus !!!

RAFE CAMERON

rafe cameron x kook!reader masterlist [tag]

rafe cameron x toxic!reader [tag]

blurbs rafe cameron x toxic!reader thoughts !!!

full fics rafe and toxic!reader run into each other at a party rafe tells toxic!reader his dark secret toxic!reader gets in a fight

rafe cameron x girlfriend!reader [tag]

blurbs rafe cameron x girlfriend!reader thoughts !!!

full fics rafe surprises girlfriend!reader girlfriend!reader has something to tell rafe

rafe cameron x chronically online!reader [tag]

all rafe moodboards + social media aus !!!

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lovecla · 5 months ago

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IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW ; jack hughes.

𖧷 ｡ﾟ･ pair: jack hughes x fmc (sophia, sabrina carpenter face claim)

𖧷 ｡ﾟ･ word count: 38.6k

𖧷 ｡ﾟ･ synopsis: singer sophia montenegro and nhl star jack hughes are fuck buddies, and they’re great at it too. but what happens when they start catching feelings for each other, even after saying they never would?

𖧷 ｡ﾟ･ what to expect: nsfw, strangers-to-friends-with-benefits-to-enemies-to-lovers, fuckboy jack, singer fmc, you fell first but jack fell harder, sophia writes songs about jack!!, shitty ex, angst, happy ending.

— author’s note: this is for everyone who ever thought they’d never be chosen. you will. but you have to be the first person to choose yourself.

nhl masterlist.

— theme song: love is (not) easy by chase atlantic

main female character:

Sophia Montenegro

— “those real moments where i’m just a 25-year-old girl who’s super horny are as real as when i’m going through a heartbreak and i’m miserable”.

— trust issues? yeah. my middle name!

— secretly a crybaby (maybe not so secretly).

— sometimes a slut, sometimes an angel. but always a lover girl!

— shout out to short dresses and mini-skirts. gotta be one of my favourite genders.

before you read:

00. meet the pop star, sophia montenegro;

00.1. how did you end up in the nhl;

00.2. how did you and jack meet;

00.3. your first one night stand with jack (nsfw);

chapters:

1 | chapter one

2 | chapter two

3 | chapter three

4 | chapter four

5 | chapter five

6 | chapter six

7 | chapter seven

8 | chapter eight

9 | chapter nine

10 | chapter ten

epilogue

after you read:

smau | soph and jack supporting each other

extra | have you ever tried this one?

extra | she’s really empathetic, she’d make a great wife.

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megamindsecretlair · 2 months ago

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Sweet Escape, Part 2

Pairing: Bodyguard!Terry Richmond x Singer!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, trying out some angst, teasing, mentions of loneliness, mental health, power imbalance. Mentions of violence, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: You are on top of the world as one of the world’s most popular R&B singers. But behind the glitz and glam, you were unmoored, lonely, and aching for something you couldn’t put a name to. Terry makes you breakfast, bringing a sense of normalcy to an otherwise chaotic life. Still shaken from the shenanigans of your stalker, you enjoy the break Terry offers you. But all too soon, you’re forced to adapt to an ever-changing schedule. Your label makes you go to a club to promote your new single.

Word Count: 7,152k

AO3 Link | Part 1 | Part 3

A/N: Idk why I keep doing this to myself, LMFAO. But ya'll see that man show out with his gold chain? Lordt help me, I love that man. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You stood beside the door to your balcony staring at the brightening day. The cry last night was everything you needed to reset. Perhaps it had just been too long since the last time you did. That was okay. It was okay to cry.

You clenched your fists and felt your nails dig into your palms. It was a terrible grounding technique. But pain was good. Pain meant you were alive. And as long as you were alive, your stalker wouldn’t win. He wasn’t winning when you worked hard for this shit.

All the blood, sweat, tears, predatory producers, dickhead managers, trashy bitches with their “gossip” websites, all of it. You didn’t survive this shit to let an anonymous motherfucker get you down.

You took a deep breath. One day, you’d be able to open the balcony and actually feel the sun on your bones. You had to agree with Terry that it was too easy for someone to take a pot shot at you. Though the stalker seemed to only want to scare you so far. Killing you would kill his fantasy, wouldn’t it?

It was too morbid to think about on such a pretty Las Vegas day. It was nearing the end of your run here before you would travel to LA. You turned and pulled your robe tighter while walking to your bedroom door and flinging it open.

It smelled like home. Like warm biscuits, sizzling bacon, and fresh eggs. You followed the smell to the common kitchen and peeked around the corner. Terry stood in the kitchenette in a gray tank top and matching lounge pants.

Your eyes tracked the subtle vein in his arm and followed it to where it ended in his hand gripping the pan. Terry looked up at you and smirked. “I figured after what happened we could all use a little normal,” he said.

“This…is your normal?” You asked. You hopped onto the nearest barstool and leaned over the bartop to look at the spread. He actually did make biscuits. Fluffy ones with butter melting in the middle. You were tempted to grab one but something told you Terry didn’t play about his kitchen.

You grinned and glanced at Terry who lifted his eyes to yours. You peeked down at yourself and noticed that your girls were threatening to slip out. “I am so sorry,” you said. Though you flirted and harassed the man, you weren’t predatory about it. You truly didn’t mean to let them hang out. You fixed your robe and sat back in your seat like a proper lady.

“It’s all good. Biscuits look good, don’t they?” He asked, his lips dipping in the corners. He almost smiled. Hot damn. Terry brought his thumb to his mouth to lick it and he hummed. The sound vibrated in his chest and you couldn’t help thinking what the hell he was doing as a bodyguard. Bottle that sound and package it into a vibrator and there wouldn’t be a dry cooch in the house.

“Mhm,” you said absently. Maybe the cry hadn’t done its job. Now you were just stuffy and foggy and clearly off your damn marbles. You watched Terry as he finished with the bacon. He moved on to a bowl of eggs he had already cracked and watched his arms work as he whipped up the eggs.

“I really only know how to make scrambled eggs. An omelet if I’m feeling fancy. If you want something else –”

“No, no, this is…sweet of you. I can’t remember the last time someone actually cooked for me. It’s been mostly dining out,” you said.

“You don’t cook when you’re home?” Terry asked.

You had to turn away from Terry. He looked downright delicious and he was being sweet. The last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable by eye fucking him.

“No, not really. There’s not usually enough time. When I have downtime, I’m usually writing a song or working out or preparing for the next tour. Gotta do something with this brain of mine,” you said.

Terry nodded. “Shame. Nothing better than some good food cooked with love,” he said. His voice grew hoarse around the word love. Did he have an ex-wife? Did someone break his heart? There was so much you suddenly wanted to know about your bodyguard. You wanted pieces of him that no one else got. You were hungry and greedy for it. Though you had no right to be.

“So you can’t make anything other than scrambled eggs, huh?” You asked.

Terry scooped out butter and placed it on the hot pan. It immediately sizzled and Terry’s bulging muscles worked back and forth to spread it around. He added the eggs and then turned to you. “I did say an omelet, too. Give me some credit,” he said.

“But only when you’re feeling fancy,” you said.

Terry chuckled. “You get me,” he said.

“So what makes you feel fancy?” You asked. Your eyes drifted to Terry’s every so often and it was bordering on creepy. So you hopped down from the stool and rummaged around in the cabinets.

“What are you doing?” Terry asked.

“Setting the table,” you said. You grabbed two plates and placed it on the counter.

“This was my gesture for you. You’re not supposed to set the table,” he said.

“My grandma would roll in her grave if she knew I didn’t help some kind of way. You wouldn’t want to hurt poor Grammy Bean, would you?” You turned doe eyes to him and added in a cute pout, sticking out your bottom lip.

Terry chuckled, turning back to the eggs. “I suppose I can’t hurt poor Grammy Bean,” he relented. You grinned and continued setting the bar top with plates, two cups, and forks. By the time you were done, Terry had finished up the breakfast.

You stood behind him and handed him the plates one by one while he loaded up the eggs, bacon, and biscuits. He handed you the full plate and you set it down. “That was for you,” he said.

“Oh,” you said and giggled. “Thank you.” You rounded the edge of the bar top, suddenly feeling shy and girly. There was no reason for it. You just…fuck, how long had it been since someone did something for you just because? Not because you were paying them to do it? No hidden agenda?

Technically you were paying Terry too, but to guard you, not cook for you. It was unprompted and there was nothing you could do in return for him. There was nothing you could do to feel like you earned it.

Terry grabbed his own plate and joined you at the bartop. He sat down and spread his legs to accommodate the long length of them. Feet planted firmly on the ground. “Don’t be too harsh on me. I know it’s not the fancy restaurant stuff you eat,” he said.

You laughed. “Don’t believe the hype, Mr. Terry. I am a southern girl at heart. This is way more up my alley than that french reduction, tuna tartar, or whatever else they think people want to eat.”

Terry chuckled and waited until you took a bite of your food. You sighed in appreciation and smiled closed-lipped at him. “This is delicious, Terry,” you said.

Terry grinned, showing off his beautiful smile. It was gone just as quick and he nodded. “Good to hear,” he said.

What you wouldn’t pay or do to see him smile like that again. You ate beside Terry, soaking in the domesticity of it all. You were burning with questions. But you bit your tongue and just enjoyed the stillness. The peace. The quiet.

Terry finished in record time, wolfing down his meal like he had just come back from jail or something. He stood up and grabbed two more biscuits. You didn’t know where the fuck he put it all.

“Did Grammy Bean get you into singing?” Terry asked.

You smiled and nodded, thinking of your grandmother. “Yup. She had a piano that she let me toddle on until she buckled down and got me piano lessons. She was a mainstay in the jazz scene. She knew them all. I was always following after her, so she ended up getting me started with singing. Encouraged me to do it for me if I was going to do this professionally. She bought me my first audition dress,” you said.

Bless Grammy Bean, but whew, that dress was hideous. You were twelve at the time and she somehow transformed you into a little version of her. A blue and purple paisley dress with swirls and waves and too many clashing colors. Old lady shoes. If it weren’t for the studio rep who actually listened instead of laughing at you, you would’ve been sent home with tears to keep you company.

“She sounds like an amazing woman,” Terry said.

“She really was,” you said softly, remembering the pain of losing the most important person in your corner all over again. “How about you? Any grandma stories?”

Terry wiped his hands on the paper towel beside his empty plate and then wiped his mouth. He missed a crumb in his mustache but you decided not to tell him. If anything, it made him more endearing. He followed the towel with his hand, swiping away the crumb anyway. Bastard.

“Yeah, my grandma was no joke. Me and my cousin Mike were terrors. Always running in and out of the house, always getting into trouble. One time, we had been play-fighting in the rain. We were covered in mud. When grandma saw us, she hosed us down, gave us a proper whuppin’ for tracking mud on her porch, and then made us clean off her porch before we could come inside,” Terry said, smiling at the memory.

You smiled with him and shook your head, trying to imagine Terry at such a young age. Was he an awkward teen? Probably not. He was probably born with “responsible" stamped on his forehead.

“Oh, she was really no joke,” you said.

Terry smiled and shook his head. “Not a one. She’s the one that got me into the Marines. She would tell me all her stories of the Air Force and how she was in charge of making sure the women who served were in bed by curfew. A lot of them tried sneaking out to meet up with boys. My grandma was there with a clipboard and her service weapon telling them to try her,” he said, chuckling to himself.

“Not the clipboard too,” you said, chuckling with him.

“They could either get checked off or checked out,” he said, pitching his voice to sound like an older lady. With his deep voice, the sound didn’t quite manage what he went for. You continued to laugh at his impression, waving your hands.

“I’m not trying–” you kept laughing, unable to apologize.

“It’s all good. She was a funny woman. She’d want us to laugh,” he said. He sobered and looked at you while you tried to catch your breath. Giggles escaped you as you calmed down yourself, finding yourself getting lost in his stormy eyes.

You cleared your throat and sucked on your bottom lip. You both opened your mouth at the same time and then giggled. “You go,” he said.

“No, please,” you said.

“Ladies first,” he said. You sighed and rolled your eyes just as the doorbell rang. You cursed under your breath. You almost forgot for a few moments that you weren’t a normal person.

Terry stood up from the bar stool and went to the door for you, checking to see who was there. But you already knew. In five, four, three…

“There you are! Didn’t you get my text?” Mirage asked, walking into the room.

Joya followed close behind with a shy, pained smile on her face. She clutched her calendar to her chest and you smiled. You nearly had a heart attack looking at Terry. There was no way in hell your sweet assistant could handle Terry’s muscles on full display.

“I did not. I was eating breakfast, forgive me. Remind me what we’re doing today?” You asked. Because at this point, Terry effectively made you forget for a morning that you were a singer.

Terry re-entered the room silently, moving around Mirage and headed towards the kitchen. He began to pack up the plates. “Let me help,” you said, hopping off the stool.

“I got it. Go be awesome,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and giggled. You followed Mirage and Joya into the living room and sat down on the huge, white pleather couch. Joya sat down in the armchair, faced away from Terry, and opened her calendar.

“I managed to push your LA costume fittings to eleven to let you sleep in. You have an interview with Essence at three. Here is the list of questions,” she said, sliding over a piece of paper to you. You looked them over. Nothing too bad, not much you hadn’t answered before.

“Okay, pretty light day,” you said.

“Jake called. He needs you at the club tonight, rather than tomorrow,” Mirage said.

“What? Why?” You asked.

“Lord AK flew in early and will be there and Jake needs you to hype up the single,” Mirage said. She cringed at your expression as you sighed and fell back against the couch.

“I was looking forward to staying in,” you said.

“I know, babe. I’m sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t push it. I tried telling Jake about what happened yesterday-”

You waved off her incoming apology. “It’s not you. I know Jake is only thinking dollar signs right now,” you said, thinking of your good for nothing agent.

“How long do I have to show my face at the club?” You asked.

“You can’t go to a club. There’s no way to secure your safety,” Terry chimed in from the kitchen.

“I have to. If I don’t, the single won’t get promoted. If the single doesn’t get promoted, it doesn’t sell. If it doesn’t sell, my ass is out of a job,” you said.

Terry’s jaw flexed as he took in the information you gave him. “There’s no way around it?” He asked.

“Ah, sorry. No,” Mirage chimed in for you.

“There’s going to be a lot of influencers there. Lots of cameras. I don’t know if you could have a bodyguard close by,” Mirage said.

“I can blend in,” Terry said.

You looked at Mirage and Joya before glancing guiltily at Terry. He caught on, a smirk stretching his lips. “Don’t think I can hang?”

“I mean…I wouldn’t call you a square…” you said.

Terry chuckled and nodded his head. “I can blend in, princess,” he said.

You stuck your tongue out at him and he chuckled, returning to cleaning up the kitchen. You shook your head and turned back to your team. You went over a few more details for the day, the logistics of everything.

“Ugh, I didn’t pack club clothes,” you said.

“Already have you covered. After the interview, you’ll have a few choices the label is sending over,” Joya said. She consulted her calendar and thousands of tabs and sticky notes. You marveled at the way her mind worked.

You smacked your teeth thinking of the type of clothes your label wanted you in. “Oh ye of little faith, girl! I already told them nothing silver, nothing sparkly, and nothing that’ll have your ass hanging out,” Joya said.

“I love you,” you said and giggled.

“I love you too, miss lady. We have fifteen minutes to get on the road before we’re late for your fittings,” Joya said.

“Ugggghhhhh,” you groaned, sliding off the couch like a toddler.

Mirage laughed and shook her head. “It’ll be painless. Well…as long as it isn’t Francois,” Mirage said.

You shivered from the floor. “I’m convinced he pokes me so many times to see if my ass is real,” you said. You all laughed and for a brief moment, you pretended that you were sixteen again with a circle of good friends, having a movie night. But those days were long past and gone.

“Alright, alright, alright. I’m getting up. Fuck,” you said. You stood up from the floor and collected yourself. You squared your shoulders, threw your head back, and took a deep breath.

Movement to your right made you turn to Terry who had stopped cleaning to watch you. He nodded his head at you and you nodded back. Yeah, you had business to attend to.

The fitting was a breeze. Luckily Francois was nowhere to be found so you didn’t have to grab bandaids as you were done with the fitting. That was the secret part you loved about being a musician. Playing dress up. Seeing the mix of fabrics and clothes and getting to see the hidden seams to allow for quick costume changes on stage.

The interview went just as well, talking with Brandi Harper, a journalist for Essence. She was cool, down to earth, making the interview feel like a conversation rather than a Q&A. You had bonded over your love for anime, discussing the different shows you watched.

She did end up asking about the A’Kierra interview that you did and you had to fight everything in you not to drag A’Kierra’s nasty ass. You only ended up shrugging and dismissing it. Why give that clown more ammunition?

Now, you were back at the hotel, getting dolled up for the club. Terry sat on the couch watching everyone like a hawk. He only allowed one make up artist and one hair stylist and only after he did his little background investigation on the both of them. Your team was loyal. You told him as much. Yet he still looked at everyone like any one of them could snap.

Angie worked on your makeup while Nicky worked on your hair. “You gon’ sweat this out?” He asked.

“Probably, yeah,” you said with a grin. Nicky rolled his eyes but laughed with you as he switched tactics. He quickly abandoned what he was doing and then undid your hair from the ponytail.

“You gon’ stress me out, chile,” he said.

“I love you, Nicky,” you said.

Nicky harrumphed and you blew him a kiss while he started to braid your hair. “You lucky I stay ready, miss thing,” he said. He grumbled about you while he got to work, braiding quickly and efficiently. That was why you paid to bring Nicky wherever you went. No one had hands like him.

Joya entered the circus that was your hotel living room carrying a garment bag over her shoulder. Mirage was in the corner, on the phone with Jake setting up details about the club.

You snuck a glance at Terry who caught you looking. You rolled your bottom lip into your mouth and Angie groaned. You apologized to Angie who had to switch tactics as well. “Every time, girl?” She asked.

You giggled. “You’re right. I’m a bad client,” you said.

She sighed and shook her head. “You’re lucky I like you,” she said.

“Oh, it’s my lucky night then. I need to do some gambling before we leave Vegas,” you said. You let Angie remove the gloss from your lips and went with a lip stain instead. It was a darker red than what you were used to but some sneaks in the mirror had you feeling yourself.

You may be a homebody but deep, deep down in your crevices, you liked to party too. Liked to dance and move and sing your heart out. Get some drinks going and you were the life of the party.

Joya managed to get closer and tapped the bag. “Got what you needed,” she said.

“Thank you,” you told her. “Terry? Can I see you please?” You asked.

Terry was by your side in a second, crowding your space. It wasn’t entirely unwelcome. You pointed to Joya. “I had her get some outfits for you as well. If you’re going to blend, I need you to really blend. And I doubt you have a club outfit in that duffel you carry,” you said.

“I’m good, thanks though,” he said.

“And just what do you plan on wearing to blend in then?” You asked.

He spread his hands and you looked at the black T-shirt and jeans he usually wore. You giggled and shook your head, much to Angie’s and Nicky’s frustration. “You cannot go to a club like this wearing your uniform, soldier,” you said.

“It’s a club,” he said. “No one’s worried about me.”

“Sheeit,” Nicky whispered. Angie elbowed him and he cleared his throat, returning to braiding your hair. He was already halfway through your head.

You were tempted to lick your lips to keep from laughing at the adorable, confused expression on Terry’s face. “You’ll stick out like a sore thumb if you don’t make some kind of effort. Please, indulge me. Otherwise I’d have to go in by myself and without you there to guard me, who knows what could happen?”

Terry’s jaw flexed. “I know what you’re doing,” he said. He grabbed the clothes bag from Joya who looked like a deer caught in headlights. She lowered her eyes and tried to back away as nonchalant as possible. Poor tink. You understood though. Terry was intimidatingly sexy as hell.

“I wouldn’t dream of pulling anything,” you said.

He gave you a blank stare before disappearing to his side of the suite. You turned to Joya with a grateful smile.

In no time at all, Nicky had your head braided and put on a wig. He flat ironed it and then pulled it into a half up, half down style. “Oh, I like this,” you said, looking at yourself in the mirror he brought.

“I know, I know. I’m the greatest,” he said.

“We’re running behind, let’s wrap it up soon,” Mirage called out, returning to her call.

What was taking Terry so long? You wondered which outfit he chose or if he’d stick to his uniform. You had to get dressed yourself so you went into your bedroom with Angie and Nicky to help put on your club outfit and make sure you didn’t mess up your hair and makeup.

The jumpsuit was sheer and looked painted on when you got it on. The back was out but it made your ass look extra fat. Oh, you were so keeping this. It had a tropical flower design on it that looked fun and perfect for the club. Partnered with your hair and makeup, hell, you’d fuck you tonight.

You left your room and Terry stood up. You paused, your heels near skidding on the floor. Got. Damn. He chose to wear a navy dress shirt with gold flowers on it. He left it buttoned all the way to the top and his black jeans made him look extra delicious.

He smoothed the shirt and looked at himself like he couldn’t believe how he got here. You giggled to get over your initial shock. “Not bad, Mr. Terry. Not bad,” you said.

“Don’t look so bad yourself,” he said.

You smiled and followed your army of people out of the hotel, to the waiting car. Terry opened the door for you and helped you inside. He went around to the other side, climbing into the back with you.

“Oh, not driving tonight?” You asked.

“I gotta blend, right?” He asked.

If he did any more blending, people would think he was a famous movie star. He pulled on some shaded glasses, completing the look while a member of your security team got in the front seat. Mirage and Joya would be in the follow car.

Sometimes they were your best friends. And sometimes they were your best employees. The ride beyond to the club was short, really only going from one hotel to the next. But because you’d be spotted instantly, it was somehow easier to take the car than walk.

Paparazzi lined the entrance to the club and those flashing bulbs immediately turned to your car when it was your turn. You took a deep breath, looking out at the sea of vultures. There were some fans mixed in.

“Guess word got out that I’d be here,” you said with a rueful smile. “Wondered who leaked that.”

Jake was such a leech. But you kept him around because if nothing else, he could hustle a dollar from a beggar. And for an artist determined to do this shit right, you needed all the money you could scrounge up. After living paycheck to paycheck growing up, robbing Paul to pay Peter, you had plans. You didn’t ever want to go back to the poor little girl you were before.

“We can turn around,” Terry offered.

You sighed. “No. We really can’t,” you said. You took a deep breath and pulled on your metaphorical armor. You pictured it encasing you in the hardest known element. Not a chink or weak spot to exploit.

You pulled on your own shades because the flashing lights left you dizzy. Terry’s counterpart got out of the car and then swooped around to open the door for you. Terry got out by himself and quickly walked around the car, offering you his arm.

The paparazzi resembled a feeding frenzy at the zoo. They called your name endlessly, squawking with demands to turn here, look here, give us a smile, give us a pout, who’s your man, and on and on it went.

You posed and waved to them all, playing into your persona. You singled out a few fans and took pictures with them, signing some autographs. You blew kisses as you walked up the club’s doors and the bouncer let you in without any fuss.

The sudden darkness of the club’s interior foyer after all the flashing lights gave you whiplash. You swayed on your feet and Terry steadied you with a hand on your hip. “You okay?” He asked.

You shook your head to clear it. “I hate that shit,” you said. But you were fine. You’d live.

“We made it,” Mirage said, coming up from the side entrance. She wore a simple black party dress that fit her full figure well. She pulled her braids back into a ponytail and added on makeup. You hugged her and then Joya who peeked out from behind Mirage. She had changed as well, into a pair of dark jeans and a flirty shirt.

“You both look amazing!” You said.

“Not as good as you!” Joya said. You waved them off. They were too adorable. Linked arm in arm, you passed through the curtains and entered the club proper. Nothing was small in Vegas on the strip. The place was huge, a mass of people gyrating on the dance floor, hanging out by the bar, or trying to make moves on each other.

You made your way to the VIP section. The section was already bumping with multiple artists bopping their heads to the music. Groupies hung around the various rappers and singers, each all similarly dressed in baggy pants and jerseys or oversized coats.

“You’re here!” Another singer, Alexandra Crane, beamed and then wrapped her arms around you. You screamed with her. The cute little singer from Atlanta had become a friend during a concert you performed together. You were glad to see that she ditched the other two in her group.

“It is so good to see you!” You said. You introduced Mirage and Joya and true to form, Joya fangirled.

“Oh, and who’s this?” Alex asked.

“This is my-”

“I’m her toy for the evening,” Terry said, extending his hand to Alex. She shook it but gave you an exaggerated wink. You waved her off and let your eyes adjust to the dizzying array of spinning neon lights in the club.

The dance floor was full of uncoordinated people jumping up and down to the same four club remixes on repeat. Ugh. “Have you seen Lord AK?” You asked.

Alex shook her head. “Are you meeting up with him?” She asked.

You nodded and bent closer to be heard over the music. “We’re promoting ‘Down Bad’,” you told her.

She smiled and nodded her head. “Oh my god, I love that song!” She said.

You flopped onto the couch with Alex and caught up, leaving Terry to sit beside you and scan the club for potential threats. You relaxed as the night went on, going shot for shot with Alex and your girls.

As the night progressed, some fans dared to approach and ask for pictures. Terry tried to deter them but you went against his orders, taking pictures anyway. It was incredibly brave to even ask. You wouldn’t deny them a quick picture and wave.

The club finally changed the music to something you could actually shake your ass too. The alcohol warmed your belly and had you feeling yourself. You grabbed Alex’s hand and made your way to the dance floor.

Terry grabbed your hand as you reached the bottom step of the VIP section. “I can’t protect you around all of them,” he said.

“I wanna dance. You can join meee, boy toy,” you sang, crooking your finger. Terry tilted his head and if you could see his eyes, you were sure he would be judging you. Ah well. You hadn’t had fun in a long time. Your stalker preferred to catch you unawares. The mask had been the creepiest contact so far.

The fanboy letters and poems were what really creeped you out. You shivered just thinking about it. But that was the point. You didn’t want to think about your stalker. You wanted to have fun.

Terry let your hand go and then you squealed, getting onto the dance floor and immediately started shaking your ass to the Ying Yang Twins song. You let go. You just followed the rhythm of the music and danced with Alex, pretending you were just a girl in a club, quietly hoping some man would come holler at you for a second.

You danced in a circle so that it would make you face the VIP section. Terry’s profile was turned towards you, eyeing you as you danced. You put extra flair into your sexy dancing. Swaying your hips, shaking your ass, flirting with him with your body from across the room.

He watched it all. He didn’t even pay attention to those around him. Didn’t give the waitress a glance as she lingered, hovered, trying to grab his attention. He lifted his fingers to wave her off and she left with a huff. That only made you smile and roll your body to the music.

The DJ scratched the record, getting everyone’s attention. Everyone turned to the DJ in the middle of the club, up on stage surrounded by a paneled wall full of screens with colors dancing in the display.

“Ya’ll ready for some hot, new shit? Fresh off the tracks?” The DJ asked. The club screamed.

“Ya’ll ready or not, damn!” The DJ asked.

Behind him, Lord AK stepped out with a microphone. “Call me a simp, ‘cause that ass got me mesmerized…” he started rapping the opening lyrics to your song. You screamed, just as shocked as everyone else.

Why didn’t Mirage tell you this was part of the plan? You looked towards the VIP section but Mirage wasn’t there. Were you supposed to sing as well? Were you just there to witness? This mickey mouse shit was unprofessional as fuck.

Lord AK seemed to know what the hell was going on because he made a beeline through the crowd to you, serenading you with his rap, grinning widely. Gahh, he was so damn cute. If he didn’t have some deep seated fucking issues, that would be your man for real. But after the scare last year at a party, he had disappeared for counseling.

Fuck it. You grabbed the mic from him when it came time to your part, singing to him, flirting with him and the crowd. You involved them, making them think that they were the ones you were down bad for.

Mirage’s head bobbed in the crowd. She gave you a harried look, waving a microphone covertly. You pushed on Lord AK’s chest and sang while backing him away. You grabbed the microphone from Mirage just as Lord AK leaned in for a fake kiss. You tapped the microphone on his lips and he grinned, grabbing the microphone and began the breakdown of the song.

There was a call and response in the middle of the song, getting quicker as the lyrics turned nastier. You and Lord AK circled each other, getting closer and closer, until you reached the climax of the song where you belted out the final lyrics. The club exploded with cheers and whistles.

The DJ played another one of Lord AK’s songs. The idea was to get people focused on the music, not his hiatus. You felt bad for him, really. He was a talented rapper. People should already focus on the music and not that he was going through shit. Everybody was going through shit.

Mirage fought her way to you, grabbing your microphone and Lord AK’s. “Fuckin’ Jake sprung this shit on me. By the time I knew, he was already in place and I couldn’t find you and…”

“Babe, breathe,” you said. Mirage stopped mid sentence and took a deep breath.

“I’m going to fuckin’ kill him,” she said, shaking her head and walking away.

“I’m sorry, I thought you knew. Somethin’ told me this shit wasn’t right, ‘cause I almost didn’t find you out here,” Lord AK said.

You waved him off and hugged him, covertly taking a deep whiff of his cologne. He smelled heavenly, like a mix of spiced flowers and sandalwood. You should’ve been having his babies. You inwardly groaned at the loss of your fictional family as you pulled away.

“It is so good to see you. Need some familiar faces, for real,” you said.

His grin was wide and genuine, his eyes no longer cloudy now that he got rid of most of his entourage. That whole group had been toxic and you were glad to see him on the other side of it. Healthy looked good on him.

However, back in his presence, his luminance seemed to dim. He no longer really turned your head. You only had eyes for – him. Terry remained in the VIP section but there was some unknowable expression on his face. You didn’t know him well enough to decipher this particular look.

He was always so damn grumpy. “How long you here for?” You asked.

Lord AK shrugged his shoulders. “Enough to be seen. Then I’ma dip. This club is ass,” he said.

“True that. Don’t leave without me seeing you again,” you said.

“You’re gonna see me in LA, girl,” he said.

“And what that mean!” You tapped his shoulder and made your way back to the VIP section. Most of it had cleared out but there were still a few movers and shakers talking, their phones out recording everything.

The lights began to go crazy, turning the VIP section darker as the lights danced in time with the club remixes again. “Having fun?” Terry asked when you got up the stairs.

“Are you? Have you gotten up once?” You asked.

“Mhm. Just sitting here. Enjoying the free concert,” he said.

You giggled, looking away. You wanted so desperately to ask what he thought of the performance. The words to excuse the behavior were at the tip of your tongue. You wanted to make it clear that it was all an act for you and Lord AK. That you weren’t really into him, ya’ll just had good chemistry.

But there was nothing to really explain, was there? You didn’t owe Terry an explanation. You grabbed two shots and handed him one. “If this was what you call blending in, it’s so bad. You scream cop,” you said.

“I look good, what you mean?” He asked. He smoothed down the front of his shirt and you shook your head with a giggle.

“You gotta drink. You gotta dance. Those are the rules,” you said.

“I don’t drink,” he said.

“Like a you can’t handle your liquor thing or is this a health nut thing?” You asked.

Terry chuckled. “Health nut?” He asked.

“You know you can be addicted to working out, right?” You asked.

Terry shook his head. “I don’t drink on the job,” he said.

“This isn’t a job. You’re blending. Blending means going method,” you said. Terry sighed and grabbed the shot out of your hand. He knocked it back without a grimace and you matched him, tipping the shot glass back and grinning at him.

The DJ gave the club remix a break and turned on Post Malone’s “Rockstar”. You squealed and threw up your hands. “I love this song! Dance with me,” you said. You grabbed his hand and tried to pull him to standing. He remained firmly planted in his seat.

“I definitely don’t dance on duty,” he said.

The alcohol made you petulant. At least that was your excuse and you were sticking to it. You gave up trying to get him to stand so you took another shot for courage and then began dancing in the VIP section.

The neon blue and purple lights danced across the shades he still wore. You couldn’t see his pretty eyes and you pretended that he was a famous person. Someone who understood what it was like to feel lonely in the middle of a crowd. That image quickly disappeared though. You didn’t want a fantasy.

You wanted to remain yourself. You wanted Terry to remain Terry. The inflexible, professional, gorgeous man who took your safety seriously. The same man who let you peek behind the curtain of his control earlier today. The same man who made you feel in ways you hadn’t in a very long time.

You turned around and began dancing for him. Just for him. Rolling your ass in a slow circle to the song, bending down as you did so, making your knees do most of the work to entice Terry.

He adjusted himself in the seat, tilting his head at you. “What are you doing?” He asked, his voice rough.

“Dancing with you since you won’t dance with me,” you said. You continued to dance, looking back at him every so often to make sure he was still looking. You grew more bold as you danced, now doing it just because. Just because he made you feel normal when so much of your life wasn’t.

You backed into his lap and mimicked bouncing on it. You grabbed his knees and ground your ass in lap, used him for support while you danced slower and slower. The thrumming beat matched the beat of your heart, turning you bolder.

You looked over your shoulder and bit your lip, still grinding in his lap. Terry took a deep breath but you weren’t making it easy for him. “You know you want to dance with me,” you said over your shoulder.

Terry leaned forward and grabbed your hips, slamming you down onto his lap. You yelped, feeling a third leg pushing at the fabric of his jeans. He placed his lips next to your ear and whispered, “Behave.”

You grinned and kept grinding and dancing on him, giving him a lap dance whether he wanted it or not. He didn’t stop you, only gripped your hips harder with his thick fingers. He slowly began to move with you, rubbing his bulge into your ass.

He moved one of his hands from your hips to trail a finger along your exposed, sweaty back. You gasped, feeling electricity pass from his fingers to your skin. You took back control by abruptly standing up, turning around, and climbing into his lap.

You continued your dance, wriggling in his lap. You bent backwards, stretched, and then rolled forward. Terry dragged a finger down your chest and you wished it was open in the front too. You liked his hands on you. You really, really liked his hands on you.

Your skin grew overheated, waves of heat rolling through your body. Terry gripped your ass and squeezed. You gasped and fell forward, knocked off your rhythm with just a firm grip. You ought to be ashamed you were that easy, but hell, who could blame you?

When he looked that good? Smelled that good? Felt so damn good?

Terry leaned forward and you steadied yourself on his shoulders. You braced for those full, lush lips to touch yours. Watched as if in slow motion as he leaned in. Your breathing was so rapid, your chest rose and fell.

Terry moved one of his hands to your face, bringing you closer by cupping your cheek. Your eyes drooped, too eager to get this over with yet wanting to savor every little second. His hand was hot against your cheek. His breath fanned across your face.

He bypassed your lips to bring his closer to your ear. “I don’t take advantage of drunk women,” he whispered. He licked your neck and you moaned, shivering as if someone dumped a bucket of ice water down your veins. “I like my women sober when they’re riding me.”

You gasped while he stood up and gently placed you on the couch. “Stay here. I’ll grab you some coffee.”

You stayed put while he disappeared to do just that. You stared after his retreating form, at a complete loss for words. You were hot and bothered. Your flabbers were ghasted. And you were so damn horny you thought you’d pass out.

Such a bastard. You fanned yourself as Terry returned with coffee and water, making you somehow drink both. He escorted you out of the club with a few stops to take pictures with fans. Despite whatever the hell he thought, you were not drunk.

He had you tucked into the car before you could say, “Cinderella”. There was nothing to talk about in the car. The interior was too tense. Too thick. Too cloying with the mix of cologne, perfume, sweat, and hairspray. You rode in silence back to your hotel, escorted to the room, and stood silently while Terry checked every nook and cranny of the room.

“Goodnight, Mr. Terry,” you sang lazily, heading to your bedroom doors. Terry crossed the living room to his side.

“Goodnight,” he said.

You stared at each other as you closed the doors at the same time. Finally alone, you turned and leaned your back against the door feeling like the biggest fucking loser on the planet.

Whew. Help yourself to some more treats! The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1 | Part 3

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