“Someday”
pairing(s): Noah (TD)/GN Reader
— summary: reader who is Chris’ child has a secret relationship with Noah
— no y/n use, no pronouns use - gn reader, reader is Chris' child (adopted or otherwise), reader drinks coffee (caffeinated or otherwise), secret relationship,
"Oh, no, thank you for having me!" A well-practised smile rose to your lips, as you rose your feet. "This was so much fun!"
The Celebrity Manhunt reporter in front of you followed suit, offering you a manicured hand. You took it in not just one, but both of your hands, eagerly shaking it. As you let go, she flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder, giving you one final goodbye before turning back to the camera. You waved off to the camera, leaving the set and allowing the woman to turn over to the next segment.
A much more genuine grin pulled at your lips as you noticed your dad's assistant, Noah, stood off to the side. He stood stiffly, your heavy bag slung over his shoulder— the weight was clearly just a bit much for him. Opposite to it, he held a cup of coffee— ritual for the end of most interviews you gave. You reached for it, though he only gestured for you to follow him, before turning on his heels. You huffed, stumbling over yourself to keep up with his quick pace. "At least hand me the bag!" He ignored you, only heaving the heavy bag further up his shoulder in quiet defiance.
"You have another interview within the hour— there's already a car waiting." He remarked as you exited the camera's earshot. He was cold, detached— if you didn't know better, you'd say he had something against you. "This isn't one of the ones about your dad. It's the one you had me book about…" Noah paused in his steps, eyes shifting around for a moment before settling on you, soft and fond. "Your new project." He whispered vaguely, as if he was scared of spilling some grand secret.
Unconcerned by secrecy, you bounced on the balls of your feet. "Oh, I forgot about that!" You exclaimed cheerfully, hooking your arm around his. "You should've reminded me earlier- I would've been out of here so much faster!" Quick on your feet, you pulled him toward the carpark, hardly waiting for him to point out the correct car.
He pulled open the side door as you reached it and you slid to one side, allowing Noah space to sit next to you. He leaned toward the front, rattling off an address for the driver before turning back to you.
Finally, he dropped your bag to the floor of the car, creating a barrier that stopped you from sitting side by side. In the gap, he held out your coffee. It still radiated of thinly-concealed heat, your hand only protected by the cardboard sleeve that decorated the cup. The first sip of warmth filled you with relief. You hummed, shoulders slumping easily. "Shit, that's good."
"Yeah, well, you would never let me live it down if I got your order wrong." He rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth perking up despite himself. Through a near-gravitational pull, you leaned into each other, shoulders touching.
You scoffed softly, "I'm not so bad." Pursing your lips, you continued. "Not as bad as my dad, at least."
Snickering, he raised an eyebrow at you, "And that's a high bar?"
"Point." You conceded, pausing thoughtfully for a beat, "Is he still being… difficult to work with?" Concern pooled in the bottom of your voice, underlying and evident only to Noah.
He watched you fumble with the seam of your shirt for a moment before clicking his tongue. "Its… he's just frustrating." He sighed, not quite sugarcoating his words but certainly holding back. "I wish I didn't have to work with him for so long."
"It's a foot in the door though, right?" You reminded him, delicately easing one of your hands into his. "It isn't forever— just a way into the industry." As good as he was to you, it was impossible to be unaware of your dad's cruelty.
He nodded, humming in agreement and giving your hand a soft, reassuring squeeze. "I'm grateful you got me the job in the first place." He leaned back, tilting his chin to the roof of the car. "When I get the opportunity, I'm out, but for now, working for Chris isn't the end of the world."
"Just think," Without thought, you let your head fall to his shoulder. "One day, you'll be bossing around twerpy little nerds on the set of a movie you direct."
In mock offense, Noah gasped, a hand coming up to his chest. "Are you saying I'm a twerpy little nerd?"
You shrugged, looking away from him. "Well, if the shoe fits…" You trailed off, only interrupting yourself with a laugh as he shoved you.
He grinned at you, familiar amusement lingering in his eyes. "You know what else?" Your eyebrows rose, beckoning an answer. "One day, I'll be able to say I'm dating you." He murmured softly, affection soaked into every syllable.
Exhaling, you chuckled at that, "And maybe, by then, you'll be relevant enough that dad can't kill you." Light and teasing as your tone was, Noah tensed at your side. You brows knit together as you glanced at his face.
"One can hope." Voice dry, he leaned closer.
You had thumbed out an invisible star on the back of his hand, humming. "He'll have to get used to it. It's my life."
The car fell quiet, only filled with the noise of tires rolling over concrete road and the occasional sip of coffee. Even so, the space felt muted— a bubble where only the two of you existed.
Melting further into him, you admired the link of your fingers, missing the content, half-lidded look on Noah's face. Eventually, the car began to slow and he nudged you, pressing his shoulder deeper into your own. "We gotta get back to work."
Pouting, you peeled yourself away from him, "Bummer." You whined, shuffling away to separate further.
"You get to talk about your own work though." He offered, his eyes meeting yours. "This is the start of your career— can't walk in there looking disappointed."
Your teeth poked through your lips, excitement reuniting with your features at the reminder. "You're right, of course, you're right." You admitted, rolling your eyes and looking to the window just as the car rolled to a stop.
Noah turned away, reaching for the door, though a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked back at you, head tilting in confusion. By second nature, you leaned in to press a firm kiss to his cheek, before reaching past him to open his door. Without another word, you reached for your bag and gestured him to move.
When the two of you stepped out, you were acquaintances— maybe, casual friends, at best. But in the quiet moments, ones only for the two of you, there was more.
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Star's Final Notes:
— Everytime I write one of these, I just hope the Canadian in me comes through in the characters. Anyway- I think this little Total Drama kick is mostly out of my system? I'll still definitely take requests for it but I think the obsession has finally cooled down a bit. Might still wanna do Duncan, Harold, Gwen, or Heather idk.
— I've actually no clue what to write next so I'm praying for a request- anyway, that's all for today. Like, comment, reblog, whatever- just go take care of yourself and enjoy the rest of your day!
final word count: 1.1k
