𐙚I am Angioletta.ᐟ𖹭

I recently read your fanfiction "Interview with Oprah" and I really enjoyed your writing!

I'd like to ask if you could elaborate a bit more on the topic of having a relationship with Prince or being married to him? Like, what would life be like with him, you know?

(English is not my native language, so please excuse any mistakes 🫠)

Married Life

Prince Nelson x Fem!Reader - Part 1

Masterlist

Summary: After a tiring day working at the studio on your new album, all you want to do is be in the calming presence of your husband as he only wants the same.

W/C: 2.9K

A/N: Thank you so much for the request!! I love this relationship dynamic so much that I will definitely be making it a series. If you would like to send a request for any future chapters on what you would like to see, feel free to do so <333

You take a much needed sip of water after a whole singing session into the microphone. Currently working on your new album, you've spent majority of the day in the studio.

After repeating takes, changing lyrics, listening to what has already been made, everyone in your team is ready to turn in for the day. Including you, before one of the audio engineers points out, "we have another song scheduled to work on."

A series of loud sighs can be heard as you pace absentmindedly around the room. Your hands rub exhaustedly over your face before reaching a conclusion. "We've spent way too long in here" referring to the song, "let's just leave it for tomorrow."

Everyone seems to be content with your answer as they murmur in agreement. Particularly your manager who leaves the room immediately without a single goodbye. Following suit, the rest of the team begin to pack away their belongings and recite a brief farewell to one another.

You do the same, pulling your fur coat securely over your shoulders in preparation to enter the cold air outside. And despite it being very late, you ensure the pair of sunglasses you routinely wear is ready to face the paparazzi who are currently waiting for you.

A group of security guards follow you quietly out of the studio as the door opens and you're unwillingly greeted with cameras flashing and recording. Despite the intrusion and incessant light, you smile and wave at the people calling your name whilst being safely guided to your chauffeured car.

A specific question catches you off guard. "Y/N, what do you think of Oprah's comment about working with you?" Your eyes search for the person who's asking, but you're unable to find them in the drowning crowd.

Instead, you stop in place. Speaking in the direction of where you heard the question, "what did she say?" You're completely unaware due to being held up with work all day in the studio.

A different woman answers. She's located at the front of the crowd as she lowers her camera, "she's stated that you're the most difficult person she's ever worked with."

You look to the side, scoffing in disbelief of her words thought you're still slightly amused. "Can you believe this?" You direct your question at the security guard who smiles back at you. Turning to the crowd in front of you again, you respond to Oprah's comment, "well, the feeling's mutual."

Everyone's eyes widen, including the security guards around you as one freezes midway through opening your car door, taken aback by your unexpected answer. You pass casually and enter the backseat, thanking him whilst settled as he nods and closes it.

"Straight home?" Your driver, Daniel, looks at you through the rearview mirror. He's reached his mid-thirties. Working for you since the beginning of your career over ten years ago, the two of you often engage in conversation during journeys.

"Yes please, Dan." You ignore the increasing noise and commotion erupting outside which you essentially caused.

You finally get the chance to relax as you sink into the luxury seat of your car. Enjoying the rare few moments of peace and quiet, you decide to finally speak up, "how's the family?"

"Same old," he lightly shrugs, "can't really complain." He lives with his wife, Sian, his son from a previous marriage, as well as the daughter they have together.

You nod, turning to look out the window as the streets of Minneapolis pass. Since moving from LA, the calmness you find in this area is unmatched. The once glitz and glamour you thought you could never live without soon became boring once you met Prince and occasionally visited his estate here.

As your relationship was intentionally made secret, the commute was heavily hidden from the media which meant you had to ensure no one would see you. During that time, you grew to love Minneapolis, realising that you could picture yourself living in this environment.

You discussed living conditions with Prince before the wedding and eventually concluded that you'd make the move here.

"My missus is thinking about having another kid," Dan sounds stressed, as if he doesn't agree with the idea.

"Aw, that's lovely," you always make the effort to sound positive when parents talk about their children. "How do you feel about it?"

"I can't stand the two I have right now," he laughs under his breath, his tone reveals there's truth behind his statement.

"You shouldn't say that," your brows furrow at his harsh words, "having kids is a blessing, and it's not very nice to say that when you have two that are already born." You try to make his understand, "they wouldn't appreciate hearing what you said."

He sighs dramatically at your perspective to his situation. Changing the subject, he lifts a packet of cigarettes, "mind if I smoke?" Your head shakes, allowing him to do so. Despite you always saying that he can, he always asks. Opening the window, he releases a puff of smoke into the air. Daniel's mentioned before that he turns to his habit of smoking in response to stress.

"Speak to your wife," you begin to relay advice, meeting his stare in the rearview mirror once again, "kids are a big responsibility. If you don't want to have another, she'll understand, don't force yourself to have just to make her happy."

He places the cigarette between his teeth once again as he bites nervously at it, "y'know a lot about kids." He makes an assumption.

"I was the eldest of five kids," you laugh at the reminder, "I was basically a second mom."

"Is that so?" He turns into another road, "what was that like?" The two of you occasionally exchange stories. And despite you having already told him before, he's asking again.

"My mom liked going out," you have a clear image of her in your head with the extravagant party outfits she wore on Friday and Saturday nights. "She'd leave me alone with my siblings since I was like...six." Your brows knit together as you try to recall how old you were

"Six?" He looks back at you in disbelief, "to change diapers and deal with babies?"

"That's right," you nod with a smile. It's always so amusing to retell your childhood and gather people's reactions.

"I can't even take care of one right now and I'm a grown man," he reevaluates himself, "how did you do it?"

"I ask myself the same thing," you break into laughter, "how did I do it when I was so young?" Pausing for a brief second, you begin to reflect and figure out an answer, "I guess I just never really blamed my siblings for it."

"That's a pretty strong thing to do," he praises, "do you blame your mom?"

"That's a difficult one," you suddenly find that you're questioning yourself again, "to an extent, I guess. It was a weird time in my life."

Being your husband, you've vented to Prince about this topic many times. And despite being calm in front of Daniel, you've broken down multiple times with Prince as you can't even believe that a mother could just leave her young child to look after their baby siblings as she goes out with other men.

You'll cry as he takes you into his arms. Brushing his fingers over your back as he whispers reassuring words. Sometimes he'll share his own stories from his childhood. Despite his harsh upbringing and violent treatment from his father, he still maintains the strength to forgive him.

Once learning this, you were deeply affected. You believe it's why the two of you are so compatible. Throughout all the hardships in your life, you’re able to talk and move past it. Never forgetting, just learning to live with it.

Daniel hums at your answer as the gates of Paisley Park come into view. The car stops in front of the entrance, ensuring you won’t need to walk too far, you collect your handbag before shuffling into the next seat and opening the door.

“Thanks, Dan,” you always make it a habit to thank your drivers.

He turns directly to look at you, rather than in the rearview mirror, “thank you for the good advice.”

You release a small laugh at his kind words, “see you tomorrow.” Closing the door as he moves off, your hand lifts to wave a goodbye before turning completely and entering your home.

The estate is heavily secure. Prince ensures that strict protocols are enforced to protect the two of you. You politely greet a security guard as he opens the front door for you to go through as he wishes a good evening.

Your first instinct is to find your husband. The last time you saw him was in bed this morning. His chest always rests against your back as he restricts you from leaving even on days when you’re significantly late.

The last time you spoke was during the early afternoon. On a break, you decided to spend the next few minutes calling his number to have a brief catch up. Today, he was also at the studio to work on his newest project.

You walk into the living room to expectedly find your husband resting against the couch with his eyes closed. You assume he’s sleeping after the tiring day until you walk closer and his eyes open.

From behind, your arms wrap gently around his neck as you press a kiss against his cheek. “What are you up to, mush?”

“Thinking,” he pats your arm which holds him. Looking straight ahead before turning to you and pressing a small kiss on your lips.

“What about?” You encourage for him to continue, rubbing your nose against his cheek. A gesture the two of you give to one another on a regular basis to show affection.

“Work,” he replies bluntly as his leg moves to lie on the other. His hand pats the space next to him on the couch, “sit next to me.”

“I will,” you smile at his request for you to be closer to him, “I’m just going to grab some food.” There’s a team of staff who prepare your daily meals. Your brows knit together slightly as you check in with Prince, “have you eaten?”

“I’m not hungry,” his head shakes as his arm extends to reach for the TV remote, “I’ll eat later.” He rarely gets the time to watch anything with how busy he gets. It’s the same for you too.

“Alright,” you nod, leaving the room to head towards the kitchen.

Upon entering, only one of the chefs stand there. She lifts the pan lid to inspect whether it’s finished as she looks up at the sound of your footsteps.

“Hi, Duha,” you smile at the familiar face as she reciprocates the greeting. “How are you?”

“Doing well,” she cleans her apron through lightly brushing whatever is left on it, “food is ready.”

“Amazing,” your face lights up as you’ll finally be able to eat something and relieve your hunger, “smells good.”

“Thanks,” she laughs shyly under her breath at your compliment, something she’s used to hearing but still gets flattered by.

She collects a dish to pour the contents into as you wait patiently by the door. “Have anything planned for the rest of the night?” You make small conversation as Duha thinks for a second.

“Not tonight,” she answers honestly as her face brightens at the next thought, “but I’m going out to watch a movie with my friends tomorrow.”

“Oh, what film?” You can’t help but smile at how excited she seems to be.

“Titanic,” her grin widens at the mention, “it’s the first showing at our local cinema.”

“Tell me how it is,” you ensure she does, wanting her input on the film as you weren’t able to attend the premiere despite being invited a month prior. You weren’t able to go due to intense wedding planning as it would take place a few days later.

“I will,” she sings happily as she hands a small tray with your plated meal into your grasp. “I hope you enjoy.”

“Thank you so much,” you always remain grateful to all of the staff for their services. As Duha will be leaving for the night, you say your farewell, “take care, I hope you enjoy the movie if I don’t see you during the day tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” her hands lock behind her back as she retires to a staff room where all of their belongings reside.

As she does that, you leave the room to walk back into the living room where your husband is. Finally being able to take a seat next to him, he drops the remote to the side.

His elbow rests on the back of the couch as it supports his head. Admiring you despite having your mouth full of food, Prince chimes, “you smell good.”

“I do?” You hardly believe it. After sweating all day in the studio, you’re far from smelling like roses. But your husband doesn’t think so as he nods and continues to stare at you with a genuine smile.

“Hm,” you stifle a laugh as you can’t help but feel trapped under his gaze. “Stop looking at me,” you drop your spoon of rice back into the bowl, “I feel like I can’t eat properly.”

“What?” Prince becomes confused at your sentence before breaking into a laugh, “just eat.”

“I’m trying,” your hand slowly moves to readjust his head so that he’s looking at the TV instead of you. Backfiring, he turns back to you again as you sigh in annoyance.

“How was your day?” He makes conversation which you prefer a lot more.

“Busy,” you recall everything which happened in the studio, “and yours?”

“Same,” he nods, brushing his finger absentmindedly against the fabric over your thigh. “We’ve had this intern who’s been helping out with setting up the instruments,” he describes as you nod and take another bite of your food. “Walked in on her and a songwriter making out.”

He explains it so casually because it’s such a common encounter. It’s something you’ve seen happen on countless occasions. “How old are they?”

“She looks really young, probably in her early twenties” his eyes squint, estimating the man’s age, “he’s somewhere in his forties.”

“Married?” You ask about his background.

“Wife and two kids,” Prince confirms as your head shakes in disappointment.

“Poor family,” you look down at your food, suddenly depressed as he agrees with you.

There’s a moment of comfortable silence before you speak up again, “have you heard what Oprah said about me?”

“No,” Prince turns to look at you from the TV. You’re currently watching some rerun of ‘Friends’ since there’s nothing else on.

“Well, me neither until someone said it as soon as I was on my way home.” Prince’s face already has a small smile before you’ve even completely explained. He finds whatever you say amusing. Like him, you know how to control a situation. Even with the media calling you stubborn, he views it as you standing your ground so no one can walk over you.

“She said I was the most difficult person to work with.” The two of you have hardly discussed the interview since it took place. Paparazzi have asked you follow up questions whenever they catch you in public. You have the capacity to answer without being shown as rude or a pushover.

After listening to what you described Oprah to have said, Prince’s brows raise. “You’re the difficult one?” He finds it rich to hear something so hypocritical come from her mouth.

“Someone’s calling me,” your phone rings which interrupts the conversation. Left on the table, you pick it up and immediately answer. “Hello?”

Your manager’s voice can be heard on the other end, “you’re fucking insane?”

“Okay, what did I do now?” Your eyes roll as he always seems to have something to complain about. The side of your husband’s lips curl as he leans closer to eavesdrop into the conversation.

“Why don’t we look at what you said about Oprah fucking Winfrey,” he keeps cursing which lets you know how angry he actually is. “I know you hate the woman, but that doesn’t mean you can say whatever you want about her.”

“First off, Ford” you scoff in disbelief at what he’s saying, “the woman hates me. And second, she said something first.”

“Oprah can say fuck all for all we care,” his tone heightens as he scolds you like a child, “but you have a reputation to maintain and I can’t keep looking after you with all the shit that comes out your mouth.”

“Take a day off,” you scream into the microphone before ending it and shaking your head at Prince, “I hate that guy so much.”

“What did you say?” He still doesn’t understand the context of the phone call as he smiles confusedly at you with knitted brows.

Your lips press together before answering, “I don’t think it’s even bad.” He nods, encouraging for you to continue. “I just said that I could say the same to her.”

“That’s what your manager is crying about?” He looks equally as confused as you laugh at what he’s saying. With everything that’s going on, you can always rely on your husband to be the voice of reason whilst everyone else’s reasoning stands incorrect.

Tag list

@akiraaa1239 @yourlocalbarbecuechicken

Prince Rogers Nelson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your secret relationship with Prince is finally announced once becoming newlyweds. An interview with Oprah is conducted but the questions seem very invasive…

W/C: 3.3K

A/N: There are not enough fics of this man I’m going crazy

"Global superstars Prince and Y/N L/N have recently announced their marriage." Cameras and lighting surround Oprah as she casually opens the interview, like she's done a thousand times. "This is very surprising news since the relationship has been kept so private that no one even knew the two were even together."

"Tonight," she explains the agenda, "I have been given the chance to have a conversation with the newlyweds to ask every question people have been wanting to know so badly."

"I'm currently in one of the many living rooms of Paisley Park." She gestures to her surroundings as the camera slightly pans for the viewers to also be included. "This may seem like a familiar setting, and you'd be correct to assume so, as I was just here last year to have a conversation with Prince."

She refers to the iconic interview which stirred some controversy between her and Prince due to the intrusive questions she asked and the smart answers he came up with.

"If you are somehow watching this and unaware to whom our guests actually are, I'll give you a slight recap before their entrance." The screen changes to a series of clips and childhood pictures which showcase you individually.

Oprah's voiceover sounds, "Y/N L/N, born in 1966, has established her career in singing very early on after being founded by a record label after working an odd waitressing shift in a restaurant."

She continues, "in 1984, after being told by her manager that entertainment booked for that night had been delayed, she took it upon herself to go onstage and sing into the microphone." A low quality video plays of a teenage you doing exactly as she describes.

"And little did she know," a picture of your former record label manager appears, "someone with the opportunity to change her entire life was watching whilst eating their dinner. A contract which enforced the creation of a debut album was signed," an image shows of the two of you together, "and she became immediate success."

"I could already tell that she'll become famous," a man who seems to be out of breath comes onto screen from the time your first album released as the numbers 1985 appear in the corner.

A woman holding your vinyl in her hands also speaks up, "she's just so beautiful and has an amazing voice."

The previous man comes back onto screen, "she's brought a new sound with her that's never been heard before and the people love it."

The woman returns again, "I can't wait to hear what else she has."

"Over the years," Oprah's voiceover comes back, "Y/N has amassed a cult following and has gone on to release several albums which spread different messages ranging from her childhood, love, and concerns for the environment and human suffering."

More recent clips play as a friend group of three British men speak over each other. "She's fit," one says bluntly as the other smiles, "I fancied her in secondary." The last one speaks in a thick Scouse accent, "she's that one singer that'll make history, y'know?"

"With fame comes controversy," Oprah describes, "Y/N has found herself in several rivalries with different singers including Diana Ross and Madonna. Their encounters have been made very public particularly found in snarky tabloid comments."

"I think she's an entitled bitch." The screen changes to a woman who looks as if she was just stopped in the middle of the street. Her friends beside her burst into laughter at the woman's bluntness.

"She doesn't seem genuine," a different man speaks up about your character in the same street location, "the stuff she says is kinda bitchy."

A man who gradually comes to a stop from jogging also takes his headphones off briefly to answer their question about his thoughts on you, "I don't know who that is."

"It's difficult to ignore these contrasting views on the thirty-one-year-old singer," Oprah's voice echoes as the screen changes back to her in the living room of Paisley Park. "Is she as problematic as she appears in tabloids? I'm here to ask the questions people are wondering."

Once finished with your piece, she begins to dissect Prince, "this man needs no introduction...unless you're seriously living under a rock. But if you somehow are," she smiles intentionally, "allow me to catch you up."

The screen changes to flashes of stage lights and screaming crowds as different clips begin to play one after another. Guitars. Performances. Interviews. Magazine covers.

"Born in Minneapolis, Prince has spent years redefining music in ways few artists ever have." Images flicker by almost too quickly to process. "Singer, songwriter, producer, musician, and honestly, I think we'd be here all night if I listed every title."

A younger clip appears of him smiling briefly before looking away from the camera. "Throughout his career, he has become known not only for his music but for his individuality, his artistry, and perhaps most famously..." she pauses as another clip comes onto screen of him giving a clever answer during an interview, "...his ability to say a lot without saying very much at all."

Behind the camera, the crew laugh knowingly as they were also once there in the interview. "And as I learned myself during our conversation last year..." the screen briefly shows a few moments from the previous encounter before cutting away again, "...he has a habit of keeping people on their toes."

More recent clips play of your husband's performances. "For years, viewers have tried to understand the man behind the music. But one thing has always remained consistent...privacy." The montage slows. "And perhaps that explains why this recent news has surprised so many people."

The screen flickers to an image of your wedding day. One hand holds a bouquet as the other is in Prince's. You're walking back down the aisle as the ceremony concludes and petals are thrown directly at the two of you by family members. It was the happiest day of your life. A small event which only included your close family and friends.

You wore an ivory gown with long lace sleeves and a veil trailing behind you as flower petals get caught in its fabric. Beside you, Prince wore an ivory suit tailored perfectly to him. Silver details catching beneath the chapel light as a small lavender flower rests against his lapel.

The camera cuts back to Oprah in the living room as she smiles and gestures towards the entrance. "And now, we welcome Prince and Y/N."

The two of you enter hand in hand. Oprah meets you in the middle as you exchange a small hug and polite kiss on each other's cheek. "Lovely to meet you," you smile.

"Thank you for having me," Oprah chimes as you all find your way to a seat. She settles on the armchair which was intentionally moved to face the couch you and Prince are sitting on. His arm wraps casually around your shoulder as you tuck comfortably into his side.

Despite participating in thousands of interviews over the years, Oprah seems intimidating. The warm image she conveys on television appears strikingly different when you're the main topic of conversation.

With cameras recording and the knowledge that the whole country is watching. Prince's initial warning to prepare for intrusive and somewhat uncomfortable questions being asked and his lesson on how to rightfully respond. His secret weapon being to deflect.

"I'd like to take a moment to congratulate the two of you on your marriage," she smiles, leaning her elbow over the armrest as she maintains an open posture.

"Thank you," your head tilts at her thoughtful message as Prince gives one nod and a smile.

"And Y/N," her eyes move to glare at you, "you've never been on the show, have you?"

Your head shakes as you provide a quiet, "no."

"And the first time you are, you're with your husband," she points out as you turn to glance at Prince with a small smile as he winks over at you. His hand moves to his chin as he observes Oprah and the way she calculates her next words, "how do you feel?"

"About the interview or marriage?" Your eyes squint in slight confusion.

"About everything," she clarifies.

"Well, as of right now, I think I'm the happiest I've ever been," Prince's hand interlocks with yours as it rests over his knee at your words.

"Is that so?" She urges you to elaborate.

"Yes," you nod, building on what you said, "every morning I wake up and I'm just thankful for how different my life looks compared to where I was a few years ago."

"Fascinating," Oprah reacts to each sentence you say, "and how is it different? Where were you a few years ago?"

You blink at the question, looking down at the floor for a second as you process it. "It was confusing to say the least," you laugh at the memory as a way of coping. "I was..." you hesitate to answer before sighing and giving in to a whole explanation, "I was pressured to act a certain way which wasn't me at all."

"Who was pressuring you?" Oprah does the whole procedure which builds on from every answer.

You look over at your husband, wondering if you're saying too much. He nods, signalling for you to continue. "...my label."

Oprah takes in everything you say. "Sorry," she directs her apology to Prince, "I'm just going to focus on Y/N for a second."

"That's fine," he reassures, laid back against the couch as you smile at him.

"I've gathered a few comments you've said in the past regarding a few artists." Someone behind the camera passes a deck of cards to Oprah containing the contents as your eyes widen.

"Oh no," you're immediately embarrassed as she digs up your history.

Your finger rubs stressfully against your temple as she begins to read them out. "In your words," she clarifies, "people compare me to Diana Ross, but the last time I checked, I'm not a forty-year-old seeking little boys' attention." Your lips press together as Prince laughs beside you.

"Why would you say something like that?" Oprah's face remains serious as she searches for an answer, "are you threatened by Diana?"

"No," your brows knit together at her assumption, "that's not why-"

"Well," she interrupts, moving onto a different card as she recites the text, "here you've also stated that you have a better voice than Diana Ross."

"Oprah," your head tilts, "do you know what year I said that?"

She looks down at the source which also shows where it was obtained, "it's from a 1987 interview."

"Exactly," your hand lifts to reinforce your point, "I was twenty-one. I'm sure we've all said things like that when we were young." You look between Oprah and Prince knowingly.

"Do you remember hearing this ten years ago?" She directs her question at your husband, "what did you think about it?"

"Well," he starts, looking at the floor for a brief second before back at Oprah, "I think we should be more concerned that she's being associated with little boys rather than focusing on Y/N apologising."

"Thank you," you nod at him before returning to Oprah, "people are way too quick to dismiss that."

"Can you understand why people may think you're stubborn and entitled?" She changes the subject after observing your behaviour.

"Is this you telling me I am?" Your brows raise quite offendedly.

"No," she reassures, "I had my team conduct street interviews to ask the public what they think of you."

"Great," you respond sarcastically, already assuming what they've said.

"A few mentioned that they find your personality to be quite unlikable from the way you speak about other artists," she reports the findings.

"I don't owe anyone an apology," your head shakes with an exhausted smile.

"These people are doing the same thing they're apparently hating Y/N for," Prince comes to your defence.

You agree, "the only difference is that people expect me to be silent. I've got my own thoughts and I'm going to share them the same way they are."

"I love to see husband and wife come to each other's defence," she changes the subject again, "I'm curious about your relationship." Your posture straightens to regain your composure. Despite staying calm the best you can, people will always view you to be hostile in these circumstances when it's truly just a matter of explaining yourself.

Since the beginning of the interview, Prince has been relaxed. Sinking into the couch with a supportive arm around you, he's helped answer enough that you're not restricted, but still maintain control over Oprah. He will continue to do so especially in this next section.

"What people find to be the most shocking is how private you kept it." Someone takes the deck of cards from her hands as she repositions them to rest over the chair's armrest. "How and when did the two actually meet? And what pushed you to make the choice to stay so quiet about it?"

"We actually met before my debut album even came out," you laugh, still in disbelief after all these years, "but we weren't involved with each other just yet."

"Is that so?" Oprah smiles at how happy you seem talking about the two of you together. "How did that happen?"

"I was helping out this one band," Prince reminisces, "they broke up before even releasing a single, but anyway, that day there was a woman in the back. She was just standing there and I was confused because she wasn't part of the crew," he describes.

"You're making me sound like a ghost, mush," your hand rests over his knee in amusement as he laughs under his breath. Oprah watches the two of you interact so absentmindedly affectionate with one another.

"My first thought was how beautiful she looked," Prince continues with the story as you bite your lip. "I asked the band's manager, Sulaiman, if he knew who that mysterious woman was. He explained that her name's Y/N L/N and she's also working with him at the moment on a debut album."

"What happened next?" Oprah supports her head using her arm as she demonstrates her intrigue with the story.

"He walked up to me," you take over, smiling at the memory despite your romance not starting from there. "We just spoke about business really."

She asks a follow up question, "he didn't ask you out?"

"Not yet," you clarify, "throughout the years, we've just seen each other at award shows and briefly said hi."

"So when did all this happen?" She uses her finger to point between the two of you.

"It's quite boring to be honest, but two years ago," you set the scene, "my manager's phone rang, but she wasn't in the room so I answered." Prince watches you in awe as you recall every detail of the story. "And I could already recognise whose voice it was."

"I didn't even get to say what I originally called for because I was so distracted by our conversation," he adds which makes Oprah's eyes widen. "I knew in that moment I needed to meet up with her."

"So the two of you began dating after a phone call that wasn't even meant for you?" Her voice sounds astonished as you confirm. "That's amazing." She pauses before asking her next question, "you said two years? Don't you think that's a short time to get to know someone before marrying?"

"I don't think so," Prince denies, "when you've met the right person, why delay it so much?"

"I see," she nods as someone behind the camera, who you assume is the director, instructs Oprah to read out a set of questions the public has given. "This next segment is frequently asked questions since the announcement of your relationship," she warns as you nod. She's then given a list as she clears her throat, "have the two of you ever thought about having kids?"

You internally roll your eyes. Of course these types of personal questions will come up. "We'll have a few kids of our own," you look over at Prince who smiles at the idea, "and I've always wanted to adopt."

"What makes you consider adopting?" Oprah leans forward, her body language insinuating her interest in your answer.

"The idea," you gesture with your hands, "of changing a child's life for the better is my dream."

"And you'll be able to provide that?" She challenges.

"I hope so," you laugh.

"I'm certain she will," Prince cuts in, "she's amazing with kids."

"You've seen her?" Oprah's brows raise.

"She has nieces and nephews," Prince vaguely explains to maintain privacy, "she's their favourite aunty."

"Right," she nods with a smile before glancing down at her list of questions. "Do the two of you ever argue?"

Your mouth parts slightly at how intrusive the question is. In the past, you've heard Oprah ask other celebrities these questions on the show. With the cameras on you, it's a lot more daunting as she expects an answer. You turn slightly, just enough to examine Prince's expression. He's staring straight at Oprah. As if he already knew she'd ask something like that.

Your throat feels dry as you try to decipher how to handle the question. "Well," you begin, "every couple argues and that's completely normal."

"Of course," she tries levelling with you, "but who's more likely to initiate them?"

"People really want to know this stuff?" Your husband speaks up with a sarcastic tone, "fascinating."

"You'd be surprised," Oprah laughs as if she isn't the one asking. "Are there ever times your arguments make you feel like it can break your relationship?"

Your eyes squint, trying to conceal your disbelief as she continues to ask the same topic you've clearly shown disinterest in. "I think there's a serious problem in your relationship if you think some pointless argument will be the end it."

"I don't think so," she inputs her own opinion, "I think it's normal human emotion to consider breaking up with your partner if there's some kind of disagreement. I see it as healthy if someone's putting themselves over their relationship."

"Well," you sigh, "let's look at it like this...you have your own way of thinking, and I have mine." At this point, you're so over the interview you don't even care if people view you as some bitch. They already do. "It's quite selfish to only think of yourself in a relationship." You turn to Prince, "the same way I expect him to always look out for me."

Oprah's head tilts at the way you're debating with her as she then moves on to your husband, "what do you think?"

"My first instinct during an argument would never be to divorce my wife," he laughs as if it's the most obvious answer ever.

"Okay…” she turns her attention to the questions in her hand as she realises the two of you disagree with her. “Now, this next question,” she warns, “is completely normal for couples to talk about and you shouldn’t feel ashamed to.” You’re immediately tense as Prince notices and gently squeezes your shoulder as a gesture of reassurance. “Do the two of you engage in a lot of intimate activities?”

Your eyes move around the room as you loudly say, “what are these questions?” Beside you, Prince laughs as Oprah remains serious.

“This is completely normal for couples.”

“Yeah, but it’s not anyone else’s business,” you scoff, wondering why she’s even asking. “I know I haven’t been answering these last questions so give me something that I can or this interview can just end right now.”

Prince smiles at how you’re able to defend yourself. Oprah notices as she addresses him, “is this turning you on? The way she’s acting.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the way she’s acting,” his head shakes, “she’s being very kind right now.”

Tag list:

@akiraaa1239 @sabbiabbydabbywabbie @thsureya120 @michaelswife-jackson @secretlydeepruins @y-x1 @mysterioussag @thebabykashmere @sugarrushbell @naty-sunshine @tenshadows56 @unknwnbrii @delictezz @awayaesworld @bia-n-t-d

Pairings: Prince Nelson x Singer! Reader

Contents: y/n kinda delulu, cringe, rushed, impatient writing

Summary: You’re an artist at the 1984 Academy Awards nominated for music, and while you didn’t leave with an Oscar you did leave with an unforgettable encounter

A/N : THIS IS MY FIRST FIC, this is my first time writing any sort of fiction/ story, so pls bare with me and my writing moving forward, also apologies for this bc it deleted 3 times and i got upset..

You’re shifting uncomfortably on the plush maroon colored mentally complain on how you’ve been sitting to long, bored your attention from the speakers on the stage, to the bodies that filled the seat of the stadium of the event in front of you.

with the much impatient bounce of your leg as you are very much ready to just be home and out of the tight dress restricting your body.

Hearing the last words of the night coming from the stage, the place booms with applause and cheers echoing throughout the building as people stand from their seats.

You watch as people scatter, walking to wherever they go, whether its greeting those around them, congratulating, picture taking, or short conversations, you avert to pay no mind.

You bring yourself to stand clapping softly and looking around, gathering yourself and your manager who came to be a close friend

traveled you both away from where you were previously seated.

“Y/N cmon, let’s congratulate everybody” Lala (the nickname you have to her given randomly ) said to you without looking back, acting as a guide for you both.

she always encourages you to do thing’s to bring yourself out of your comfort zone, and to do things you get lazy to do, one of which is interacting with other’s, being because you just don’t always want to be around people

or don’t have the energy to talk, you try to be more out there, though you sometimes are, you just have you’re moments,

lala always give that push of encouragement you need for your introverted self.

With a quiet sigh you nodded even though she couldn’t see you, and for the next half an hour there’s a blur of greetings, painful polite smiles, goodbyes, and congratulations.

you had just finished a light and quick conversation with stevie wonder, the nominee you were up against and had lost too, with a grateful sigh for the nice conversation you wandered around in search for lala.

“Oh yeah she’s over here, please come she’s very nice and just love’s you! No need to be shy.”

A very familiar voice to you made you perk up from being heard just ahead of you,

“lala!” you voiced, making your way to where you’ve heard her,

“Y/N! Look who’s here to meet you.” and you looked, you looked and the smile you were wearing tightened, your brows raised in surprise, and your heart

dropped, cause standing before you was a shy man dressed in a dazzling purple sequin hooded sleeved cape that sparkled brightly when the light caught it just right,

the man you’ve been listening to on repeat and on your way here, was Prince.

“Hi Y/n, it’s nice to meet you.”

Prince greeted quite shyly and almost quietly but yet was heard, his voice that deep octave it is, hand out raised to be shaken.

You took his hand while staring at his green captivating eyes, your mind racing with how perfect he looks in the flesh, how YOU are shaking his soft hand, how smooth his skin looks, wondering what he uses.

“Y/n this is Prince” lala’s voice

snapping you out of your thought’s in that blinding second,

“Yes i know, it very nice to meet you prince, and congratulations on tonight”

you spoke while quickly looking away from his intimidating searing eyes, letting go of his hand after speaking, but you felt him hold your hand in resistance for just a split second before

letting go, he didn’t look away from you like how you did him “ I hear you take a liking to my album? A big fan for when doves cry?” he asked while tilting his head, staring at you.

“Oh really? Well yes I like your album, when doves cry just really does it for me” you shrugged

after your statement, flashing lala an embarrassed glance for giving such information to prince.

“ Well I gotta say your song in that movie does it for me also” Prince admitted, repeating your words back to you with a nod, raised brows and a slight make shift smirk,

“yeah?” “yeah” you nodded at that with a bashful smile

“thank you prince that means alot” you looked back at him gratefully.

prince then stepped closer to you, leaning in as if he was telling a secret, placing a gentle hand on your arm

“ personally you shouldve gotten that oscar, I believe it should’ve been yours” prince quietly said to you, holding intense eye contact with you as he did.

You raised your brows more and nodded shyly “ oh please stevie was gonna get that Oscar regardless….but thank you, ‘tha means alot”

Prince nodded at your words, smirk widening,

“well i’ll leave you be now” he said backing up and giving you space

“ but you have a goodnight,i’ll call you later y/n” he finished, blowing a ‘kiss’ and backing away with a smile before turning hid body, walking towards his team and those he came with, leaving you in your spot brows furrowed in confusion.

“ oh i gave him your number” lala said casually, snapping your questioning mind out with an answer as if she has read them.

“ you did what!” you quietly exclaimed turning your attention towards her.

“You’ll thank me later, now you can finally go home let’s t go girl!” she smiled proudly, grabbing your arm and leading you towards the doors of where the car pick up is .

You didn’t reply to her, unbelievable, you don’t believe you’ll be getting any sort of contact from him, but deep down there’s a shred of hope that he’d call, don’t want to get up any hopes, so you push it down and take a deep breath.

You may have not ended the night with an oscar, but you did leave with a memory you won’t forget, and most definitely will be making many different scenarios of tonight.

GULP…how was that…k bye