Me Against Her (Cate Blanchett x OC)

Storyline

*Smut warning! You've earned it, good job.*

I was pinned to my spot and watched on in sheer agony as Cate and Chris flirted, hugged, and engaged in all sorts of intimate poses. All of a sudden I wished I'd stayed in Cate's house this weekend, so that I wouldn't be subject to this kind of torture. 

The shoot lasted for about 45 more minutes before they started wrapping up the equipment. Cate didn't even see me before being escorted somewhere else that needed her, so I waited alone in her trailer until night fell. 

Finally, her keys turned in the lock, and she came and pulled me into her arms as if I waited for her to come home everyday for years. 

"Sweetheart," she gave me a snug but chaste hug, "so much has happened...so much."

"I know," I said, "my life has been turned upside down." 

"Are you mad at me?"

How can I be, I thought, when you're holding me like this. 

"I was, but not for long." I said. 

"I'm sorry I left on such short notice," she said, wringing her hands in front of her stomach, "it wasn't fair to you."

She brushed some of my hair behind my ears, and I felt our romantic chemistry slowly seeping back. Within seconds, she felt it too, like some kind of magic telepathy that grew between us like a third creature. She leaned in and kissed me. 

"So, you and Chris, huh?" I didn't know why this was the first thing I said after we broke our kiss. 

She gazed at me quizzically, with those laughing eyes that mocked me whenever I said something stupid. "You saw the shoot...are you jealous?"

"No," I lied loudly, "should I be?"

"Jesus christ, you're totally jealous," she chuckled, "you know it was a photo shoot right? Not real life." 

"Yea," I said grumpily, "I would've enjoyed watching it more if it were just you." 

"Look," she sat down on the bed with me, "it's part of the studio's plan, all right? They felt that Thor: Ragnarok didn't have enough of a romantic storyline, so they're trying to sell the movie on my chemistry with Chris in the promotions." 

"So you don't actually have any feelings for him?" I had to triple check.

She gave me a little nudge so that I fell backwards on the bed, "I think you need a little pick-me-up." 

She started unzipping my jeans and spreading my knees, and soon our bodies met at the tip of her tongue.

"If you told me two weeks ago that this is how you'd make it up to me," my breathing quickened, "then maybe I wouldn't be half so mad."

"Did you grow tighter while I was away?" her words were muffled by the wild motions of her tongue, "You taste more delicious than I remembered." 

Then we both paused, realizing this was the first time she ever went down on me, and remembering that this was our first time being intimate not as superior and subordinate. And that she never would've done this if she were still my boss. 

"Do you enjoy being eaten out?" she asked.

"It's the most heavenly sensation," I gasped, "I miss...this, so much, Cate..."

"You miss this, or miss me?"

 "Right now, I miss your tongue more than you."

"Don't get too loud," she smiled, "these trailer walls are paper thin. Jeff Goldblum is probably sleeping two feet to your right." 

We lost ourselves in a fit of giggles, but it wasn't until the next day that I found out that the joke was on me. 

I went to lunch by myself because Cate had a cast lunch, and when I came back to her trailer, I heard a noise. 

At first, I thought it was someone doing construction work far away, but once I listened more closely I realized that it was coming from the trailer. It was a mix of furniture squeaking and a rhythmic noise. 

I had my hand on the doorknob when I heard Cate's moans in the mix, and I realized the noise was that of bodies colliding into each other. 

"...harder, harder," she said. 

At that point, all the blood in my veins froze, as one thought crossed my mind: nothing beautiful in the world was reserved only for me. 

Soon, I heard the low grunts of a man, and my mental picture was complete. An amorphous male figure, who had both the face of Andrew Upton and Chris Hemsworth, ramming his hungry dick into Cate. My Cate. 

His ugly, dark, rudimentary male figure feasting on her fair, porcelain, exquisite one and feeling entitled to all of it because social norms were on his side. 

Her writhing under him, taking pleasure in being a receptacle for his lust because it came naturally to her anatomy. 

Those condoms being the only container of his desire. If they didn't exist, he could end up inside her, forever. 

I took a few steps back and almost doubled over, close to vomiting. Then my morbid curiosity got the better of me, and I drew nearer to the sound again, pressing my ear against the cold metal of the trailer wall. 

"...you're making me so fucking hard..." a deep-throated Australian male voice said. 

"Fuck me," Cate's voice. 

For someone who was such an artistic maverick and probed everything with her brilliant critical mind, how could Cate be such a disgusting hetero cliché?

Soon the noises died down, and I picked up my cue to hide behind a neighboring trailer. 

The door opened, and I was overwhelmed with an excruciating sense of déja vu when the scenes from the Vogue shoot unravelled itself again before my eyes. This time, I knew who the Men's shirt that Cate was wearing belonged to. 

Chris snuck out of Cate's trailer with the air of a thief and the glory of a king, quickly disappearing behind the rows of trailers. 

Cate lingered in the doorway for a minute, her cheeks rosy. She was still smiling when she closed the door. 

Before I decided to go find the last corner of the universe to bawl my guts out, I looked around. No photographers. No security guards.

This was not a photo shoot. This was reality.