hiddevans

[hiddevans]

Chapter 4

Summary:Axelle James' perfect life shatters when a career opportunity turns into a fight for survival.

Pairing:Chris evans x agent !married woman !Axelle James x actor ! married man ! Aaron James

Warnings: x

Word Count: x

story masterlist

Chris Evans masterlist

previous chapter

A/N: English is not my first language, so sorry if there are any grammatical errors. I don't know if I've said this before, but I wrote this story in French on my Wattpad. I'm writing it in English to perfect it, so if you find any mistakes, let me know!

I let out a deep sigh, completely worn out by this never-ending cycle that seemed to repeat itself every single morning. My tired, unfocused gaze settled on the cup of coffee in front of me, still sending up thin wisps of steam. I frowned, trying to make sense of why Aaron kept acting like this—so repetitive, so confusing. Sitting there at the kitchen table, I already felt drained, with absolutely no motivation to take on another day, especially not with this same frustrating situation running circles in my mind.

I felt myself zoning out, lost in thought.

A wave of frustration bubbled up inside me as I reached for the kitchen counter, gripping it tightly.

Aaron, leaning against the door, was gearing up for another round of target practice. But man, he was already sick of this never-ending morning routine—it was like being stuck in a loop. His expression said it all, a mix of boredom and frustration, as if he was mentally groaning:

— Come on, do we seriously have to go through this every single morning? It’s getting ridiculous.

As I watched him, a drop of coffee sloshed over the edge of his cup and landed smack in the middle of his crisp white T-shirt. The dark stain spread instantly, standing out like a giant bullseye.

I let out a deep sigh, rolling my eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. My irritation must’ve been written all over my face. Without a second thought, I swiped away the incoming call on my phone, in no mood to deal with anyone’s nonsense today.

In the awkward silence that followed, I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to lighten the mood and get rid of that invisible weight hanging over us. I sure as hell didn’t want to kick off my day with this cold air between us. So, gently, I spoke up:

— Honestly, I really don’t like starting the day like this, giving each other the cold shoulder.

My breath, barely audible, gave away a vulnerability I usually worked hard to hide, but right then, it was all too obvious and unavoidable.

Aaron, on the other hand, looked lost, totally caught off guard by the honesty in what I’d just said. Seeing his confusion, I decided to keep going, determined to say exactly what was on my mind.

— I don't really see why we need to schedule this appointment so damn early tomorrow morning.

I made an effort to keep my cool, fully aware my words might come across as blunt. But honestly, what I saw in him was just the surface of the bigger mess weighing on us. Aaron rolled his eyes so dramatically it was almost annoying, before heading off to the bathroom. I could hear the water running, which meant he was brushing his teeth. And let me tell you, I was already dreading the moment he’d turn off the tap and come back in here.

When he finally came back, wearing a new T-shirt that somehow made him look even hotter (which definitely didn’t help calm my frustration), I noticed something about him: his eyebrows, a little uneven, clearly showing he was pissed, and his mouth barely open, like "I disapprove, but I’m not gonna say much." In his eyes, there was a silent question, but it was loud and clear anyway:

— Seriously?

His response, without saying a word, was a mix of rhetorical disbelief and barely-veiled disdain. It was like he thought it was totally ridiculous that I was this pissed over something he saw as a minor thing. But even with that hint of arrogance, I didn’t flinch. I crossed my arms tight, letting him know I was sticking to my guns and ready to speak my mind, no sugarcoating.

— Yeah, seriously.

I said it with a firm tone, my arms crossed tightly, making it pretty clear I wasn’t backing down.

Every time we had a disagreement, Aaron always seemed to try to make me question my own feelings, like what mattered to me wasn’t worth a damn to him. To him, this was just some minor thing. I knew he wasn’t trying to be all condescending or bossy, but the way he contradicted me made my blood boil. All I really wanted was for him to actually take what I was feeling seriously.

— Seriously, Axelle? It’s just a meeting.

His shrug made it pretty obvious he didn’t think it was a big deal, like he was trying to brush it off and keep things calm.

But no way I was letting him get away with that.

— It’s not just a meeting, Aaron.

I said it with a firm tone, because for me, there was way more to this whole thing than he was willing to see.

I whispered that, lowering my arms in a move that almost felt like giving up before the fight even started. I felt defeated, like I’d already lost, even though the real battle hadn’t even kicked off yet. All I wanted was for him to understand what I was feeling, and why, without these little arguments turning into bigger, messier fights.

— It’s just that...

I hesitated, my voice getting a little higher, the words struggling to come out.

Aaron raised an eyebrow, his face showing that fake smirk like he was just waiting to hear what excuse I was gonna pull out. Standing by the bathroom door, he looked like a guy who’d rather stay put than come into the kitchen and deal with me.

My heart was pounding as I tried to gather the courage to keep going. I cleared my throat, fully aware of the lump of emotion tightening in my chest.

— Honestly, I hardly ever see you these days, and let’s be real—that’s not just a coincidence. With all your nonstop shoots and the way you're constantly jetting off somewhere, it’s like you’re barely around. And even when you are physically here, it feels like your mind is a million miles away, caught up in something else entirely.

My voice cracks a little.

I forced myself not to lose it, or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself in my head.

Aaron’s smile spread across his lips, but it hit me like a punch in the gut, sharp and bitter.

— Oh, excusez-moi de vouloir vraiment bien faire mon travail et d’en tirer quelque chose. Désolé si c’est une chose si terrible.

His tone was so sarcastic, it felt like he was just digging the knife in deeper, in the cruelest way.

I took a deep breath, holding back the desperate urge to just snap. If I wanted him to be more present, I had to meet him halfway, no question about it. But for him, it sometimes felt like that was easier said than done.

— You know that’s not what I mean!

Aaron, clearly fed up, was now letting his frustration show, but that didn’t stop him. He kept going, playing the part of the curious guy with a question that felt totally off:

— So, what’s really bothering you?

Hands on his hips, he looked like he actually cared, but let’s be real—he was just trying to back me into a corner, to push me to my breaking point.

I bit my tongue at his little provocation. Not because I had nothing to say—I had plenty—but because I knew if I opened my mouth, this would spiral even more out of control. And right now, staying calm seemed like the smartest move.

I was wrestling with myself, trying to swallow the lump in my throat, but Aaron? He just kept piling it on, using every little opening to test my patience.

— You can’t just pin this on me because of my schedule. You knew exactly what you were signing up for from the start. I’ve always had a lot on my plate, and you agreed to it without hesitation.

He repeated it like some kind of final argument, like those words alone should magically fix everything. Like the fact that he’d always been a busy guy, something I’d accepted from day one, meant I had no right to feel the way I did.

It was like he expected me to just smile, shrug it off, and say:

"Oh, of course, my bad, it’s totally on me."

But instead, I just stared at him, my eyes stinging, my breath tight, fighting like hell not to let the tears spill over. He had no idea how much those words cut, how deep they dug into me. And God, I just wanted him to see it—to stop looking at this from his side only and finally, finally understand what this was doing to me.

My bottom lip trembled slightly as I fought to keep my composure. The thought of crying out of anger was especially infuriating to me. In the past, Aaron had often come to me for comfort, and each time, I ended up feeling this unjust guilt, like I was somehow at fault. It always left our problems hanging there, unresolved, like dark clouds casting a shadow over our relationship. I wasn’t about to let that happen again.

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it was more than just a lump now—it felt like a damn stone.

— That’s not what this is about at all, Aaron, I said in a low voice, trying to sound stern, but it came out more like a plea.

Aaron ran a hand through his hair, like he was trying to calm down, then turned to face the wall, unable to hold my gaze. But eventually, he spun around to face me again.

— I don’t get what’s bothering you!

His eyes widened, and his voice got louder, sharper.

— Is it because I have to move for work that you don’t feel good enough? Or is it because I have other priorities besides catering to every little thing you need?

His words, full of bitterness and exhaustion, hit the air like a slap of cold reality.

— I hate saying this, Axelle, but you’re not the damn center of my world. DAMN IT!

He spoke with this weird mix of confidence and desperation, throwing words at me that hit right where it hurt the most. Words that could leave scars, the kind that stick with you forever, no matter how hard you try to shake them off.

I could feel the fury in Aaron's eyes, the way he was judging me, and the pain that was slowly tightening around my chest. Those would be images I wouldn’t ever forget, burned into my memory.

— I just want to work, he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

But he didn’t budge an inch, not even a step closer to the door.

I knew if I let him leave now, we'd end up right back here again, fighting about the same thing as soon as I had the guts to bring it up again.

— I want us to fix this, I said, gesturing to the space between us, that invisible gap that felt like a damn chasm.

Instead of answering, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking completely drained.

— I'm exhausted, he muttered.

It was clear he’d made his choice.

I hated having to wonder whether he was talking about being physically tired or just plain fed up with me.

I jumped to my feet, grabbed my bag, feeling this sudden rush of urgency. I made up my mind to leave the house before Aaron figured out that I’d rather walk away than stay with him. The bitterness of the whole situation hung in the air, and I just needed to get out, to breathe, to put some space between me and all the chaos swirling around inside me.

— Fine, whatever!

I slammed the door behind me, not looking back.

Joe Russo let out a heavy sigh, his voice carrying a mix of impatience and a ton of built-up frustration.

— Seriously, we need to put a hell of a lot more energy into this project, guys. You all know exactly what I expect from you, so let's go all in, alright?

The room, usually buzzing with creative chatter as we read through the script, now felt like it was suffocating in thick silence.

— Remember, we're here for a script read, not just to hang out. The whole point is to really dive into your characters. If you want to throw in some improv with the dialogue, go for it, but make sure it still fits the vibe and tone we’re going for.

The youngest of the Russo brothers, dead set on pushing the actors to fully embody their roles, dove into an even more detailed explanation. He painted the scene in a lavishly decorated living room, and although his words were aimed at the one actress in the room, the look on her face made it clear she was struggling to meet the high expectations.

On my end, I tried my best to stay focused. Being there as a neutral observer meant I had to stay sharp, even though Aaron, true to form, had ignored me since we’d arrived on set. He seemed totally wrapped up in his role, throwing in the occasional fake smile.

— Axelle, can you join us, please?

I snapped out of my daydreams, reacting quickly to the sound of my name being called. A few heads turned my way, just a brief moment of silent curiosity. Pushing myself off the railing I’d been leaning on, I walked with a light but determined step toward Joe and the others, who were already on stage.

— Since you’ve been backstage, we’d love to hear your thoughts.

He turned to face me, his piercing gaze trying to lock onto mine.

— I think the guys are sticking a little too much to the script, which is totally killing the authenticity. I can’t really explain it, but it’s like they’re struggling to make the text their own, and it’s been an issue for a while now.

I let my gaze slide over the two men in front of me. To my left, almost directly across from me, was Chris, with a slightly shy but open attitude, completely lost in his character. Thinking about it, I figured that lovely scent might actually be coming from him. And right in front of me, there was Aaron, who for some reason was doing his best to avoid locking eyes with me.

— If you’ll allow me to share my thoughts.

I started, taking a deep breath.

— I don’t think the problem is their knowledge of the script. I’m sure they’ve got it down, at least mostly. But they seem pretty uncomfortable, that’s what I’ve noticed.

At that exact bloody moment, Antony strolled over, Emily right behind him, both looking dead curious about whatever the hell I was on about. Every pair of eyes locked onto me, like I’d just dropped the juiciest bit of gossip. Even Aaron, who’d been avoiding my gaze like the plague, finally flicked a glance my way, like he actually gave a damn.

I took a deep breath, pulling my thoughts together before I carried on.

— What I’m trying to say is just...

I knew I had to tread carefully. Last thing I wanted was to piss someone off or have them take it the wrong way.

— I mean...

I paused for a sec, then carried on.

— Ethan’s got that natural soft touch, yeah? Proper gentleman type, you get me? James, though, he’s the total opposite. Sharp edges, complicated as hell, and that’s what makes him dead interesting. But see, both of them have their own stories, their own layers, which is what makes them so damn good.

I scanned the faces around me, watching for any flicker of interest, or, you know, someone ready to tell me I was talking bollocks.

— Look, I really reckon Aaron and Chris got cast in the wrong bloody roles. Chris should be playing James, no question. And Aaron? He’s made for Ethan. Swapping them would add something proper fresh to the whole thing, make the characters feel real, like they actually fit in their own skins.

Right, so at that exact bloody moment, Antony wandered over, Emily tagging along, both of them looking proper nosy about whatever the hell I was rambling on about. Suddenly, every single person in the room had their eyes on me, like I’d just announced I was moving to Mars or something. Even Aaron—who’d been doing a solid job of pretending I didn’t exist—finally glanced over, like he might, just might, actually care.

I took a deep breath, trying to piece my thoughts together before I made an even bigger mess of it.

—Look, what I’m getting at is just...

Had to pick my words right. Last thing I needed was to piss someone off or start some pointless argument.

—I mean...

Quick pause.

Then I went for it.

—Ethan’s got this proper soft side, yeah? Just a naturally good bloke, the kind that’d hold the door open for you even if you were miles away. Proper gentleman, if you know what I mean. But James? He’s the total opposite—sharp edges, bit of a mystery, the type you can’t quite figure out but you want to. That’s what makes him interesting. Thing is, both of them have their own thing going on, their own layers, and that’s what actually makes them work.

I looked around, trying to suss out if anyone was actually with me on this or if they thought I’d lost the plot.

—All I’m saying is, Aaron and Chris got their roles switched. Chris should be playing James, no question. And Aaron? He’s Ethan, through and through. If they swapped, it’d bring something fresh, something real. The whole thing would feel more natural, more alive.

I was silently begging for someone—anyone—to break this thick, awkward tension. And just when I thought we’d all suffocate in it, Chris finally spoke up, his excitement cutting through the silence like a knife.

—I think that’s a brilliant idea! I mean, what’s the harm in giving it a shot? Worst case, it doesn’t work. Best case? It changes everything, right?

He shot me a quick grin, almost like encouragement, before turning to the Russo brothers. They were both deep in thought, clearly weighing up what this little shake-up could mean.

After what felt like forever, Joe finally spoke, snapping us out of limbo.

—Yeah, you know what? Why the hell not? Nothing to lose. What do you think, Tony?

Anthony let out this small sigh—somewhere between approval and resignation—before nodding. That was all it took.

In a flash, the scripts got swapped between Chris and Aaron. And yeah, I didn’t miss the flicker of irritation in Aaron’s eyes, but I made the executive decision to pretend I hadn’t seen it. No idea what his deal was, but one thing was clear—we were both in this now. A role switch, a little game of our own, whether we liked it or not.

previous chapter

[hiddevans]

Chapter 4

Summary:Axelle James' perfect life shatters when a career opportunity turns into a fight for survival.

Pairing:Chris evans x agent !married woman !Axelle James x actor ! married man ! Aaron James

Warnings: x

Word Count: x

story masterlist

Chris Evans masterlist

previous chapter

A/N: English is not my first language, so sorry if there are any grammatical errors. I don't know if I've said this before, but I wrote this story in French on my Wattpad. I'm writing it in English to perfect it, so if you find any mistakes, let me know!

I let out a deep sigh, completely worn out by this never-ending cycle that seemed to repeat itself every single morning. My tired, unfocused gaze settled on the cup of coffee in front of me, still sending up thin wisps of steam. I frowned, trying to make sense of why Aaron kept acting like this—so repetitive, so confusing. Sitting there at the kitchen table, I already felt drained, with absolutely no motivation to take on another day, especially not with this same frustrating situation running circles in my mind.

I felt myself zoning out, lost in thought.

A wave of frustration bubbled up inside me as I reached for the kitchen counter, gripping it tightly.

Aaron, leaning against the door, was gearing up for another round of target practice. But man, he was already sick of this never-ending morning routine—it was like being stuck in a loop. His expression said it all, a mix of boredom and frustration, as if he was mentally groaning:

— Come on, do we seriously have to go through this every single morning? It’s getting ridiculous.

As I watched him, a drop of coffee sloshed over the edge of his cup and landed smack in the middle of his crisp white T-shirt. The dark stain spread instantly, standing out like a giant bullseye.

I let out a deep sigh, rolling my eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. My irritation must’ve been written all over my face. Without a second thought, I swiped away the incoming call on my phone, in no mood to deal with anyone’s nonsense today.

In the awkward silence that followed, I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to lighten the mood and get rid of that invisible weight hanging over us. I sure as hell didn’t want to kick off my day with this cold air between us. So, gently, I spoke up:

— Honestly, I really don’t like starting the day like this, giving each other the cold shoulder.

My breath, barely audible, gave away a vulnerability I usually worked hard to hide, but right then, it was all too obvious and unavoidable.

Aaron, on the other hand, looked lost, totally caught off guard by the honesty in what I’d just said. Seeing his confusion, I decided to keep going, determined to say exactly what was on my mind.

— I don't really see why we need to schedule this appointment so damn early tomorrow morning.

I made an effort to keep my cool, fully aware my words might come across as blunt. But honestly, what I saw in him was just the surface of the bigger mess weighing on us. Aaron rolled his eyes so dramatically it was almost annoying, before heading off to the bathroom. I could hear the water running, which meant he was brushing his teeth. And let me tell you, I was already dreading the moment he’d turn off the tap and come back in here.

When he finally came back, wearing a new T-shirt that somehow made him look even hotter (which definitely didn’t help calm my frustration), I noticed something about him: his eyebrows, a little uneven, clearly showing he was pissed, and his mouth barely open, like "I disapprove, but I’m not gonna say much." In his eyes, there was a silent question, but it was loud and clear anyway:

— Seriously?

His response, without saying a word, was a mix of rhetorical disbelief and barely-veiled disdain. It was like he thought it was totally ridiculous that I was this pissed over something he saw as a minor thing. But even with that hint of arrogance, I didn’t flinch. I crossed my arms tight, letting him know I was sticking to my guns and ready to speak my mind, no sugarcoating.

— Yeah, seriously.

I said it with a firm tone, my arms crossed tightly, making it pretty clear I wasn’t backing down.

Every time we had a disagreement, Aaron always seemed to try to make me question my own feelings, like what mattered to me wasn’t worth a damn to him. To him, this was just some minor thing. I knew he wasn’t trying to be all condescending or bossy, but the way he contradicted me made my blood boil. All I really wanted was for him to actually take what I was feeling seriously.

— Seriously, Axelle? It’s just a meeting.

His shrug made it pretty obvious he didn’t think it was a big deal, like he was trying to brush it off and keep things calm.

But no way I was letting him get away with that.

— It’s not just a meeting, Aaron.

I said it with a firm tone, because for me, there was way more to this whole thing than he was willing to see.

I whispered that, lowering my arms in a move that almost felt like giving up before the fight even started. I felt defeated, like I’d already lost, even though the real battle hadn’t even kicked off yet. All I wanted was for him to understand what I was feeling, and why, without these little arguments turning into bigger, messier fights.

— It’s just that...

I hesitated, my voice getting a little higher, the words struggling to come out.

Aaron raised an eyebrow, his face showing that fake smirk like he was just waiting to hear what excuse I was gonna pull out. Standing by the bathroom door, he looked like a guy who’d rather stay put than come into the kitchen and deal with me.

My heart was pounding as I tried to gather the courage to keep going. I cleared my throat, fully aware of the lump of emotion tightening in my chest.

— Honestly, I hardly ever see you these days, and let’s be real—that’s not just a coincidence. With all your nonstop shoots and the way you're constantly jetting off somewhere, it’s like you’re barely around. And even when you are physically here, it feels like your mind is a million miles away, caught up in something else entirely.

My voice cracks a little.

I forced myself not to lose it, or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself in my head.

Aaron’s smile spread across his lips, but it hit me like a punch in the gut, sharp and bitter.

— Oh, excusez-moi de vouloir vraiment bien faire mon travail et d’en tirer quelque chose. Désolé si c’est une chose si terrible.

His tone was so sarcastic, it felt like he was just digging the knife in deeper, in the cruelest way.

I took a deep breath, holding back the desperate urge to just snap. If I wanted him to be more present, I had to meet him halfway, no question about it. But for him, it sometimes felt like that was easier said than done.

— You know that’s not what I mean!

Aaron, clearly fed up, was now letting his frustration show, but that didn’t stop him. He kept going, playing the part of the curious guy with a question that felt totally off:

— So, what’s really bothering you?

Hands on his hips, he looked like he actually cared, but let’s be real—he was just trying to back me into a corner, to push me to my breaking point.

I bit my tongue at his little provocation. Not because I had nothing to say—I had plenty—but because I knew if I opened my mouth, this would spiral even more out of control. And right now, staying calm seemed like the smartest move.

I was wrestling with myself, trying to swallow the lump in my throat, but Aaron? He just kept piling it on, using every little opening to test my patience.

— You can’t just pin this on me because of my schedule. You knew exactly what you were signing up for from the start. I’ve always had a lot on my plate, and you agreed to it without hesitation.

He repeated it like some kind of final argument, like those words alone should magically fix everything. Like the fact that he’d always been a busy guy, something I’d accepted from day one, meant I had no right to feel the way I did.

It was like he expected me to just smile, shrug it off, and say:

"Oh, of course, my bad, it’s totally on me."

But instead, I just stared at him, my eyes stinging, my breath tight, fighting like hell not to let the tears spill over. He had no idea how much those words cut, how deep they dug into me. And God, I just wanted him to see it—to stop looking at this from his side only and finally, finally understand what this was doing to me.

My bottom lip trembled slightly as I fought to keep my composure. The thought of crying out of anger was especially infuriating to me. In the past, Aaron had often come to me for comfort, and each time, I ended up feeling this unjust guilt, like I was somehow at fault. It always left our problems hanging there, unresolved, like dark clouds casting a shadow over our relationship. I wasn’t about to let that happen again.

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it was more than just a lump now—it felt like a damn stone.

— That’s not what this is about at all, Aaron, I said in a low voice, trying to sound stern, but it came out more like a plea.

Aaron ran a hand through his hair, like he was trying to calm down, then turned to face the wall, unable to hold my gaze. But eventually, he spun around to face me again.

— I don’t get what’s bothering you!

His eyes widened, and his voice got louder, sharper.

— Is it because I have to move for work that you don’t feel good enough? Or is it because I have other priorities besides catering to every little thing you need?

His words, full of bitterness and exhaustion, hit the air like a slap of cold reality.

— I hate saying this, Axelle, but you’re not the damn center of my world. DAMN IT!

He spoke with this weird mix of confidence and desperation, throwing words at me that hit right where it hurt the most. Words that could leave scars, the kind that stick with you forever, no matter how hard you try to shake them off.

I could feel the fury in Aaron's eyes, the way he was judging me, and the pain that was slowly tightening around my chest. Those would be images I wouldn’t ever forget, burned into my memory.

— I just want to work, he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

But he didn’t budge an inch, not even a step closer to the door.

I knew if I let him leave now, we'd end up right back here again, fighting about the same thing as soon as I had the guts to bring it up again.

— I want us to fix this, I said, gesturing to the space between us, that invisible gap that felt like a damn chasm.

Instead of answering, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking completely drained.

— I'm exhausted, he muttered.

It was clear he’d made his choice.

I hated having to wonder whether he was talking about being physically tired or just plain fed up with me.

I jumped to my feet, grabbed my bag, feeling this sudden rush of urgency. I made up my mind to leave the house before Aaron figured out that I’d rather walk away than stay with him. The bitterness of the whole situation hung in the air, and I just needed to get out, to breathe, to put some space between me and all the chaos swirling around inside me.

— Fine, whatever!

I slammed the door behind me, not looking back.

Joe Russo let out a heavy sigh, his voice carrying a mix of impatience and a ton of built-up frustration.

— Seriously, we need to put a hell of a lot more energy into this project, guys. You all know exactly what I expect from you, so let's go all in, alright?

The room, usually buzzing with creative chatter as we read through the script, now felt like it was suffocating in thick silence.

— Remember, we're here for a script read, not just to hang out. The whole point is to really dive into your characters. If you want to throw in some improv with the dialogue, go for it, but make sure it still fits the vibe and tone we’re going for.

The youngest of the Russo brothers, dead set on pushing the actors to fully embody their roles, dove into an even more detailed explanation. He painted the scene in a lavishly decorated living room, and although his words were aimed at the one actress in the room, the look on her face made it clear she was struggling to meet the high expectations.

On my end, I tried my best to stay focused. Being there as a neutral observer meant I had to stay sharp, even though Aaron, true to form, had ignored me since we’d arrived on set. He seemed totally wrapped up in his role, throwing in the occasional fake smile.

— Axelle, can you join us, please?

I snapped out of my daydreams, reacting quickly to the sound of my name being called. A few heads turned my way, just a brief moment of silent curiosity. Pushing myself off the railing I’d been leaning on, I walked with a light but determined step toward Joe and the others, who were already on stage.

— Since you’ve been backstage, we’d love to hear your thoughts.

He turned to face me, his piercing gaze trying to lock onto mine.

— I think the guys are sticking a little too much to the script, which is totally killing the authenticity. I can’t really explain it, but it’s like they’re struggling to make the text their own, and it’s been an issue for a while now.

I let my gaze slide over the two men in front of me. To my left, almost directly across from me, was Chris, with a slightly shy but open attitude, completely lost in his character. Thinking about it, I figured that lovely scent might actually be coming from him. And right in front of me, there was Aaron, who for some reason was doing his best to avoid locking eyes with me.

— If you’ll allow me to share my thoughts.

I started, taking a deep breath.

— I don’t think the problem is their knowledge of the script. I’m sure they’ve got it down, at least mostly. But they seem pretty uncomfortable, that’s what I’ve noticed.

At that exact bloody moment, Antony strolled over, Emily right behind him, both looking dead curious about whatever the hell I was on about. Every pair of eyes locked onto me, like I’d just dropped the juiciest bit of gossip. Even Aaron, who’d been avoiding my gaze like the plague, finally flicked a glance my way, like he actually gave a damn.

I took a deep breath, pulling my thoughts together before I carried on.

— What I’m trying to say is just...

I knew I had to tread carefully. Last thing I wanted was to piss someone off or have them take it the wrong way.

— I mean...

I paused for a sec, then carried on.

— Ethan’s got that natural soft touch, yeah? Proper gentleman type, you get me? James, though, he’s the total opposite. Sharp edges, complicated as hell, and that’s what makes him dead interesting. But see, both of them have their own stories, their own layers, which is what makes them so damn good.

I scanned the faces around me, watching for any flicker of interest, or, you know, someone ready to tell me I was talking bollocks.

— Look, I really reckon Aaron and Chris got cast in the wrong bloody roles. Chris should be playing James, no question. And Aaron? He’s made for Ethan. Swapping them would add something proper fresh to the whole thing, make the characters feel real, like they actually fit in their own skins.

Right, so at that exact bloody moment, Antony wandered over, Emily tagging along, both of them looking proper nosy about whatever the hell I was rambling on about. Suddenly, every single person in the room had their eyes on me, like I’d just announced I was moving to Mars or something. Even Aaron—who’d been doing a solid job of pretending I didn’t exist—finally glanced over, like he might, just might, actually care.

I took a deep breath, trying to piece my thoughts together before I made an even bigger mess of it.

—Look, what I’m getting at is just...

Had to pick my words right. Last thing I needed was to piss someone off or start some pointless argument.

—I mean...

Quick pause.

Then I went for it.

—Ethan’s got this proper soft side, yeah? Just a naturally good bloke, the kind that’d hold the door open for you even if you were miles away. Proper gentleman, if you know what I mean. But James? He’s the total opposite—sharp edges, bit of a mystery, the type you can’t quite figure out but you want to. That’s what makes him interesting. Thing is, both of them have their own thing going on, their own layers, and that’s what actually makes them work.

I looked around, trying to suss out if anyone was actually with me on this or if they thought I’d lost the plot.

—All I’m saying is, Aaron and Chris got their roles switched. Chris should be playing James, no question. And Aaron? He’s Ethan, through and through. If they swapped, it’d bring something fresh, something real. The whole thing would feel more natural, more alive.

I was silently begging for someone—anyone—to break this thick, awkward tension. And just when I thought we’d all suffocate in it, Chris finally spoke up, his excitement cutting through the silence like a knife.

—I think that’s a brilliant idea! I mean, what’s the harm in giving it a shot? Worst case, it doesn’t work. Best case? It changes everything, right?

He shot me a quick grin, almost like encouragement, before turning to the Russo brothers. They were both deep in thought, clearly weighing up what this little shake-up could mean.

After what felt like forever, Joe finally spoke, snapping us out of limbo.

—Yeah, you know what? Why the hell not? Nothing to lose. What do you think, Tony?

Anthony let out this small sigh—somewhere between approval and resignation—before nodding. That was all it took.

In a flash, the scripts got swapped between Chris and Aaron. And yeah, I didn’t miss the flicker of irritation in Aaron’s eyes, but I made the executive decision to pretend I hadn’t seen it. No idea what his deal was, but one thing was clear—we were both in this now. A role switch, a little game of our own, whether we liked it or not.

previous chapter

[hiddevans]

Chapter 4

Summary:Axelle James' perfect life shatters when a career opportunity turns into a fight for survival.

Pairing:Chris evans x agent !married woman !Axelle James x actor ! married man ! Aaron James

Warnings: x

Word Count: x

story masterlist

Chris Evans masterlist

previous chapter

A/N: English is not my first language, so sorry if there are any grammatical errors. I don't know if I've said this before, but I wrote this story in French on my Wattpad. I'm writing it in English to perfect it, so if you find any mistakes, let me know!

I let out a deep sigh, completely worn out by this never-ending cycle that seemed to repeat itself every single morning. My tired, unfocused gaze settled on the cup of coffee in front of me, still sending up thin wisps of steam. I frowned, trying to make sense of why Aaron kept acting like this—so repetitive, so confusing. Sitting there at the kitchen table, I already felt drained, with absolutely no motivation to take on another day, especially not with this same frustrating situation running circles in my mind.

I felt myself zoning out, lost in thought.

A wave of frustration bubbled up inside me as I reached for the kitchen counter, gripping it tightly.

Aaron, leaning against the door, was gearing up for another round of target practice. But man, he was already sick of this never-ending morning routine—it was like being stuck in a loop. His expression said it all, a mix of boredom and frustration, as if he was mentally groaning:

— Come on, do we seriously have to go through this every single morning? It’s getting ridiculous.

As I watched him, a drop of coffee sloshed over the edge of his cup and landed smack in the middle of his crisp white T-shirt. The dark stain spread instantly, standing out like a giant bullseye.

I let out a deep sigh, rolling my eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. My irritation must’ve been written all over my face. Without a second thought, I swiped away the incoming call on my phone, in no mood to deal with anyone’s nonsense today.

In the awkward silence that followed, I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to lighten the mood and get rid of that invisible weight hanging over us. I sure as hell didn’t want to kick off my day with this cold air between us. So, gently, I spoke up:

— Honestly, I really don’t like starting the day like this, giving each other the cold shoulder.

My breath, barely audible, gave away a vulnerability I usually worked hard to hide, but right then, it was all too obvious and unavoidable.

Aaron, on the other hand, looked lost, totally caught off guard by the honesty in what I’d just said. Seeing his confusion, I decided to keep going, determined to say exactly what was on my mind.

— I don't really see why we need to schedule this appointment so damn early tomorrow morning.

I made an effort to keep my cool, fully aware my words might come across as blunt. But honestly, what I saw in him was just the surface of the bigger mess weighing on us. Aaron rolled his eyes so dramatically it was almost annoying, before heading off to the bathroom. I could hear the water running, which meant he was brushing his teeth. And let me tell you, I was already dreading the moment he’d turn off the tap and come back in here.

When he finally came back, wearing a new T-shirt that somehow made him look even hotter (which definitely didn’t help calm my frustration), I noticed something about him: his eyebrows, a little uneven, clearly showing he was pissed, and his mouth barely open, like "I disapprove, but I’m not gonna say much." In his eyes, there was a silent question, but it was loud and clear anyway:

— Seriously?

His response, without saying a word, was a mix of rhetorical disbelief and barely-veiled disdain. It was like he thought it was totally ridiculous that I was this pissed over something he saw as a minor thing. But even with that hint of arrogance, I didn’t flinch. I crossed my arms tight, letting him know I was sticking to my guns and ready to speak my mind, no sugarcoating.

— Yeah, seriously.

I said it with a firm tone, my arms crossed tightly, making it pretty clear I wasn’t backing down.

Every time we had a disagreement, Aaron always seemed to try to make me question my own feelings, like what mattered to me wasn’t worth a damn to him. To him, this was just some minor thing. I knew he wasn’t trying to be all condescending or bossy, but the way he contradicted me made my blood boil. All I really wanted was for him to actually take what I was feeling seriously.

— Seriously, Axelle? It’s just a meeting.

His shrug made it pretty obvious he didn’t think it was a big deal, like he was trying to brush it off and keep things calm.

But no way I was letting him get away with that.

— It’s not just a meeting, Aaron.

I said it with a firm tone, because for me, there was way more to this whole thing than he was willing to see.

I whispered that, lowering my arms in a move that almost felt like giving up before the fight even started. I felt defeated, like I’d already lost, even though the real battle hadn’t even kicked off yet. All I wanted was for him to understand what I was feeling, and why, without these little arguments turning into bigger, messier fights.

— It’s just that...

I hesitated, my voice getting a little higher, the words struggling to come out.

Aaron raised an eyebrow, his face showing that fake smirk like he was just waiting to hear what excuse I was gonna pull out. Standing by the bathroom door, he looked like a guy who’d rather stay put than come into the kitchen and deal with me.

My heart was pounding as I tried to gather the courage to keep going. I cleared my throat, fully aware of the lump of emotion tightening in my chest.

— Honestly, I hardly ever see you these days, and let’s be real—that’s not just a coincidence. With all your nonstop shoots and the way you're constantly jetting off somewhere, it’s like you’re barely around. And even when you are physically here, it feels like your mind is a million miles away, caught up in something else entirely.

My voice cracks a little.

I forced myself not to lose it, or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself in my head.

Aaron’s smile spread across his lips, but it hit me like a punch in the gut, sharp and bitter.

— Oh, excusez-moi de vouloir vraiment bien faire mon travail et d’en tirer quelque chose. Désolé si c’est une chose si terrible.

His tone was so sarcastic, it felt like he was just digging the knife in deeper, in the cruelest way.

I took a deep breath, holding back the desperate urge to just snap. If I wanted him to be more present, I had to meet him halfway, no question about it. But for him, it sometimes felt like that was easier said than done.

— You know that’s not what I mean!

Aaron, clearly fed up, was now letting his frustration show, but that didn’t stop him. He kept going, playing the part of the curious guy with a question that felt totally off:

— So, what’s really bothering you?

Hands on his hips, he looked like he actually cared, but let’s be real—he was just trying to back me into a corner, to push me to my breaking point.

I bit my tongue at his little provocation. Not because I had nothing to say—I had plenty—but because I knew if I opened my mouth, this would spiral even more out of control. And right now, staying calm seemed like the smartest move.

I was wrestling with myself, trying to swallow the lump in my throat, but Aaron? He just kept piling it on, using every little opening to test my patience.

— You can’t just pin this on me because of my schedule. You knew exactly what you were signing up for from the start. I’ve always had a lot on my plate, and you agreed to it without hesitation.

He repeated it like some kind of final argument, like those words alone should magically fix everything. Like the fact that he’d always been a busy guy, something I’d accepted from day one, meant I had no right to feel the way I did.

It was like he expected me to just smile, shrug it off, and say:

"Oh, of course, my bad, it’s totally on me."

But instead, I just stared at him, my eyes stinging, my breath tight, fighting like hell not to let the tears spill over. He had no idea how much those words cut, how deep they dug into me. And God, I just wanted him to see it—to stop looking at this from his side only and finally, finally understand what this was doing to me.

My bottom lip trembled slightly as I fought to keep my composure. The thought of crying out of anger was especially infuriating to me. In the past, Aaron had often come to me for comfort, and each time, I ended up feeling this unjust guilt, like I was somehow at fault. It always left our problems hanging there, unresolved, like dark clouds casting a shadow over our relationship. I wasn’t about to let that happen again.

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it was more than just a lump now—it felt like a damn stone.

— That’s not what this is about at all, Aaron, I said in a low voice, trying to sound stern, but it came out more like a plea.

Aaron ran a hand through his hair, like he was trying to calm down, then turned to face the wall, unable to hold my gaze. But eventually, he spun around to face me again.

— I don’t get what’s bothering you!

His eyes widened, and his voice got louder, sharper.

— Is it because I have to move for work that you don’t feel good enough? Or is it because I have other priorities besides catering to every little thing you need?

His words, full of bitterness and exhaustion, hit the air like a slap of cold reality.

— I hate saying this, Axelle, but you’re not the damn center of my world. DAMN IT!

He spoke with this weird mix of confidence and desperation, throwing words at me that hit right where it hurt the most. Words that could leave scars, the kind that stick with you forever, no matter how hard you try to shake them off.

I could feel the fury in Aaron's eyes, the way he was judging me, and the pain that was slowly tightening around my chest. Those would be images I wouldn’t ever forget, burned into my memory.

— I just want to work, he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

But he didn’t budge an inch, not even a step closer to the door.

I knew if I let him leave now, we'd end up right back here again, fighting about the same thing as soon as I had the guts to bring it up again.

— I want us to fix this, I said, gesturing to the space between us, that invisible gap that felt like a damn chasm.

Instead of answering, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking completely drained.

— I'm exhausted, he muttered.

It was clear he’d made his choice.

I hated having to wonder whether he was talking about being physically tired or just plain fed up with me.

I jumped to my feet, grabbed my bag, feeling this sudden rush of urgency. I made up my mind to leave the house before Aaron figured out that I’d rather walk away than stay with him. The bitterness of the whole situation hung in the air, and I just needed to get out, to breathe, to put some space between me and all the chaos swirling around inside me.

— Fine, whatever!

I slammed the door behind me, not looking back.

Joe Russo let out a heavy sigh, his voice carrying a mix of impatience and a ton of built-up frustration.

— Seriously, we need to put a hell of a lot more energy into this project, guys. You all know exactly what I expect from you, so let's go all in, alright?

The room, usually buzzing with creative chatter as we read through the script, now felt like it was suffocating in thick silence.

— Remember, we're here for a script read, not just to hang out. The whole point is to really dive into your characters. If you want to throw in some improv with the dialogue, go for it, but make sure it still fits the vibe and tone we’re going for.

The youngest of the Russo brothers, dead set on pushing the actors to fully embody their roles, dove into an even more detailed explanation. He painted the scene in a lavishly decorated living room, and although his words were aimed at the one actress in the room, the look on her face made it clear she was struggling to meet the high expectations.

On my end, I tried my best to stay focused. Being there as a neutral observer meant I had to stay sharp, even though Aaron, true to form, had ignored me since we’d arrived on set. He seemed totally wrapped up in his role, throwing in the occasional fake smile.

— Axelle, can you join us, please?

I snapped out of my daydreams, reacting quickly to the sound of my name being called. A few heads turned my way, just a brief moment of silent curiosity. Pushing myself off the railing I’d been leaning on, I walked with a light but determined step toward Joe and the others, who were already on stage.

— Since you’ve been backstage, we’d love to hear your thoughts.

He turned to face me, his piercing gaze trying to lock onto mine.

— I think the guys are sticking a little too much to the script, which is totally killing the authenticity. I can’t really explain it, but it’s like they’re struggling to make the text their own, and it’s been an issue for a while now.

I let my gaze slide over the two men in front of me. To my left, almost directly across from me, was Chris, with a slightly shy but open attitude, completely lost in his character. Thinking about it, I figured that lovely scent might actually be coming from him. And right in front of me, there was Aaron, who for some reason was doing his best to avoid locking eyes with me.

— If you’ll allow me to share my thoughts.

I started, taking a deep breath.

— I don’t think the problem is their knowledge of the script. I’m sure they’ve got it down, at least mostly. But they seem pretty uncomfortable, that’s what I’ve noticed.

At that exact bloody moment, Antony strolled over, Emily right behind him, both looking dead curious about whatever the hell I was on about. Every pair of eyes locked onto me, like I’d just dropped the juiciest bit of gossip. Even Aaron, who’d been avoiding my gaze like the plague, finally flicked a glance my way, like he actually gave a damn.

I took a deep breath, pulling my thoughts together before I carried on.

— What I’m trying to say is just...

I knew I had to tread carefully. Last thing I wanted was to piss someone off or have them take it the wrong way.

— I mean...

I paused for a sec, then carried on.

— Ethan’s got that natural soft touch, yeah? Proper gentleman type, you get me? James, though, he’s the total opposite. Sharp edges, complicated as hell, and that’s what makes him dead interesting. But see, both of them have their own stories, their own layers, which is what makes them so damn good.

I scanned the faces around me, watching for any flicker of interest, or, you know, someone ready to tell me I was talking bollocks.

— Look, I really reckon Aaron and Chris got cast in the wrong bloody roles. Chris should be playing James, no question. And Aaron? He’s made for Ethan. Swapping them would add something proper fresh to the whole thing, make the characters feel real, like they actually fit in their own skins.

Right, so at that exact bloody moment, Antony wandered over, Emily tagging along, both of them looking proper nosy about whatever the hell I was rambling on about. Suddenly, every single person in the room had their eyes on me, like I’d just announced I was moving to Mars or something. Even Aaron—who’d been doing a solid job of pretending I didn’t exist—finally glanced over, like he might, just might, actually care.

I took a deep breath, trying to piece my thoughts together before I made an even bigger mess of it.

—Look, what I’m getting at is just...

Had to pick my words right. Last thing I needed was to piss someone off or start some pointless argument.

—I mean...

Quick pause.

Then I went for it.

—Ethan’s got this proper soft side, yeah? Just a naturally good bloke, the kind that’d hold the door open for you even if you were miles away. Proper gentleman, if you know what I mean. But James? He’s the total opposite—sharp edges, bit of a mystery, the type you can’t quite figure out but you want to. That’s what makes him interesting. Thing is, both of them have their own thing going on, their own layers, and that’s what actually makes them work.

I looked around, trying to suss out if anyone was actually with me on this or if they thought I’d lost the plot.

—All I’m saying is, Aaron and Chris got their roles switched. Chris should be playing James, no question. And Aaron? He’s Ethan, through and through. If they swapped, it’d bring something fresh, something real. The whole thing would feel more natural, more alive.

I was silently begging for someone—anyone—to break this thick, awkward tension. And just when I thought we’d all suffocate in it, Chris finally spoke up, his excitement cutting through the silence like a knife.

—I think that’s a brilliant idea! I mean, what’s the harm in giving it a shot? Worst case, it doesn’t work. Best case? It changes everything, right?

He shot me a quick grin, almost like encouragement, before turning to the Russo brothers. They were both deep in thought, clearly weighing up what this little shake-up could mean.

After what felt like forever, Joe finally spoke, snapping us out of limbo.

—Yeah, you know what? Why the hell not? Nothing to lose. What do you think, Tony?

Anthony let out this small sigh—somewhere between approval and resignation—before nodding. That was all it took.

In a flash, the scripts got swapped between Chris and Aaron. And yeah, I didn’t miss the flicker of irritation in Aaron’s eyes, but I made the executive decision to pretend I hadn’t seen it. No idea what his deal was, but one thing was clear—we were both in this now. A role switch, a little game of our own, whether we liked it or not.

previous chapter

[hiddevans]

prologue

Summary:Axelle James' perfect life shatters when a career opportunity turns into a fight for survival.

Pairing:Chris evans x agent !married woman !Axelle James x actor ! married man ! Aaron James

Warnings: 18+, age difference (ten years between them and chris is the oldest), teasing, vulgar language, smut, , angst mention of rape, sexual assault, mention of alcohol, drunkenness and I think it's all in warning

Word Count: 2 863

story masterlist

Chris Evans masterlist

next chapter

A/N: English is not my first language, so sorry if there are any grammatical errors. I don't know if I've said this before, but I wrote this story in French on my Wattpad. I'm writing it in English to perfect it, so if you find any mistakes, let me know!

I don’t allow translations, stolen content, plagiarism, or reposts anywhere other than MY own platforms, which are listed in the "about me" section on the pinned post of my blog :)

POV Axelle

After what felt like an eternity, I found myself stuck in a rather awkward situation, locked inside the guest room. It was as if time had frozen on purpose, trapping me there, pacing in circles. My emotions, like a raging sea, surged with intensity, threatening to sweep away everything in their path—even the slightly artificial calm of this room. I fought inwardly to keep myself from bursting into tears, refusing to show my vulnerability or attract even more stares and judgments.

With my legs folded against my body and my hands resting gently on either side of my knees, I leaned against the smooth wooden door. The pounding of my heart echoed in the heavy silence, matching the unsteady rhythm of my trembling body. A single tear slid slowly down my cheek, which I wiped away with a light motion of the back of my right hand before resting it gently on my knee again.

My breathing, initially steady, quickens. I try to regain some sense of calm.

Aaron breathes softly, almost like a whisper, through the slightly open door. He is sleeping deeply, seemingly lost in a peaceful slumber that wipes away the worries of before. We've been married for over five years.

We had decided to separate for more than a month, something that was really going to be hard to handle. The evening right before we parted left a bitter taste, as if I could already feel the big hole his absence would leave. Even though I had done everything I could to pull out all the stops, hoping he would notice me, the man I love barely looked at me. A quick glance, no more than three seconds, and that was it.

A few hours before returning to our quiet house, we were in the middle of the buzz of a party, surrounded by laughter, lively discussions, and the familiar faces of friends and colleagues. The evening had started on a high note, with an atmosphere full of cheer and camaraderie. But little by little, I began to feel exhausted, and the joyful mood from the beginning started to fade. Meanwhile, Aaron seemed to want to forget everything, sinking one drink after another without restraint.

As the night went on, it became more and more apparent that I was the one who would have to drive us home without any problems. When we arrived, Aaron could barely stand, and I found myself supporting him by the shoulder to keep him from stumbling and to help him make his way to our bedroom.

There, I helped him take off his party clothes, swapping them for much more comfortable ones while gently guiding him toward the bed so he could lie down and get some sleep. As he drifted into a heavy, slightly restless slumber, I went to the bathroom to change as well, trying to give myself a quiet moment after this chaotic night.

But as soon as I left the room, a wave of regret hit me hard. All the effort I had put into taking care of him was now throwing a harsh truth right in my face, one that wasn’t easy to swallow.

I finally got rid of that evening dress, the very one I had spent ages hesitating over, thinking it might catch his eye. I let it fall to the floor without much thought. Behind me, I hear the bed creak slightly under his weight, but honestly, I don’t care. I’m too caught up in the need to just turn the page on this exhausting day.

As I remove my bra, almost absentmindedly, I suddenly feel a presence behind me. A cold hand gently brushes against my skin, making me shiver. It’s Aaron, his voice slightly hoarse and heavy with alcohol, whispering softly.

Aaron stepped closer, his gaze hazy yet determined.

— I don’t think I told you how beautiful you look tonight, my love, he murmured.

His hand slid into my hair, pushing it aside to expose my neck. His warm breath brushed against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine that I couldn’t suppress. I tensed slightly, feeling uneasy.

— Aaron… I said softly.

My voice barely echoed in the darkness of the room, swallowed by the silence of the night.

— It’s already three in the morning, do you realize that? You’ve had a long day, I added in a calm but firm tone.

He lifted his head, visibly puzzled by my response. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, showing genuine confusion.

— What? What’s wrong, baby? I can’t even tell you how insanely sexy you look and how much I want to fuck you in that dress? he replied, a mix of surprise and insistence in his voice.

I took a deep breath, trying to push away the exhaustion weighing heavily on my shoulders and quiet the chaos in my mind.

— Aaron, I’ve already told you I don’t like it when you talk like that, and even less when you call me “baby.” Come on, let’s just go to bed. You’ll really regret it in the morning when you’re exhausted, I said, my voice firm but composed.

With a small gesture, I motion toward the bed, where the blanket lies in a crumpled heap. But before I can move any further, Aaron grabs my hand and pulls me abruptly toward him. His hands settle on my hips, his warmth easily seeping through the thin fabric of my nightshirt.

He tilts his head, clearly about to kiss me. Instinctively, I raise my hand between us, just in front of my mouth, stopping him. His gaze, filled with desire at first, shifts slightly, a shadow of concern flickering in his eyes.

Aaron stares at me, his expression a strange mix of confusion and reproach.

— What’s wrong, Axelle? You don’t want to kiss me anymore? You don’t feel anything for me or what?

I gently place my hands on his chest to push him away, without any roughness. I take a few seconds to gather my thoughts before responding, trying to stay calm.

— First of all, Aaron, the smell of alcohol on you isn’t exactly pleasant. And given how late it is, the best thing we can do is get some sleep. We’ll talk about all this tomorrow when we’re a bit more rested, I say, trying to keep my tone firm but not harsh.

My words seem to slide right off him, as if I hadn’t said anything at all. The confident smile that had been playing on his lips vanishes in an instant, replaced by an expression of frustration and suspicion.

The silence grows heavy, broken only by his voice, laced with reproach and a hint of sadness.

— It’s because of him, isn’t it? he says sharply.

I frown, completely lost.

— Who are you talking about, Aaron?

He clenches his fists, his gaze growing darker.

— Stop taking me for an idiot, Axelle. It’s because of Chris, isn’t it? Just tell me the truth!

I freeze, thrown off by the sudden turn this conversation is taking.

Chris?

What does Chris have to do with this situation now? My mind spins as I try to make sense of this accusation.

— Chris? What does he have to do with any of this? Aaron, you know this has nothing to do with him. I’m just tired and frustrated tonight. It’s been a long, exhausting evening, and your behavior has only added to my exhaustion. I don’t want to talk about this right now. You know what? If you’re not tired, that’s your problem. But I am, and I’m going to bed. Tough luck for you, but I need to rest.

I turn away from him, irritated by his immature behavior that’s been dragging on for far too long. I’m tired of his excessive jealousy that poisons our relationship.

But he stops me in my tracks, blocking my way with determination.

Then, he explodes, his voice vibrating with uncontrolled anger:

— What does he have that I don’t, Axelle?

His eyes burning with rage.

— Without me, you would have never gotten that role, you would have never met him, and this is how you thank me? What does he have that I don’t? Axelle, seriously, he’s ten years older than you! Your silence speaks. You’re nothing but a little bitch!

This is the final straw. My blood boils and, without thinking, my hand slaps his cheek, leaving a reddish mark. I instantly regret it, then quickly correct myself.

—You're crossing the line, Aaron. You have no right to speak to me like that! Do you really think you can insult me like that? I'm tired of your incessant jealous outbursts! What's wrong with you, anyway? I married you! Damn it! You know what? I'm going to sleep in the guest room, you're tiring me out.

I try to free myself from his grasp, but his grip around my waist tightens, almost painfully.

—Aaron, let me go, you're hurting me right now.

—Oh no, you don't move from here. I'll show you what it feels like to cheat on me with someone else, you bitch.

—Aaron, I'm not cheating on you with anyone. Let me go. Now.

Aaron violently pushes me against the wall despite myself and kisses me fiercely without my consent.

I tried in vain to push him away, but to no avail. He was holding me quite firmly against the awkward wall.

His hands began to wander over my body, and without understanding how it had happened, I found myself lying on my back on the bed with a look of terror. His mouth, against mine, then descended sharply to my neck...

—Aaron, stop, please, I don't want to do this.

He looks up at me for half a second with an unrecognizable smile.

—That'll teach you to be promiscuous with that idiot actor. It's all YOUR fault. Quiet, let me finish, you'll end up enjoying it.

I didn't mean to do it.

I told him no.

He didn't listen to me.

He slurred my words.

I said NO.

He didn't care.

Exhausted and covered in sweat, he collapsed onto the sheets, panting, trying to catch his breath, while I remained there, frozen on the bed, my eyes fixed on the ceiling, my senses numbed and my mind on pause.

A feeling of emptiness washed over me as I stared at the ceiling. Despite all the things I wanted to tell myself, I felt completely helpless in the face of what was happening right before my eyes.

The loud breathing of the man I had once loved finally pulled me out of my stupor. Summoning my last bit of strength, I left the room, taking my phone with me, seeking some peace in the guest room. A part of me felt empty, devastated, as if I had been swept away by a wave of sadness. I never would have thought the man I had married, the one who had seemed so perfect, would make me go through this.

A flash of clarity crossed my mind as I tried to regain control. I have to leave here. Facing his reaction when he wakes up is out of the question; I can’t do it. My hands were shaking as I quickly searched through my contacts. Even though it seemed completely out of place to call him at this hour, he’s the only one who can help me now. I put the phone to my ear, anxiety tightening in my throat, and waited, nervous, to hear his voice on the other end of the line.

— Please, answer, I whispered.

I murmured, as the phone continued to vibrate in the stillness of the night, its persistent ring echoing through the quiet.

— Axelle? Why are you calling me at this hour? Is everything okay?

Chris replied, his voice still thick with sleep.

Even though I desperately wanted to spill everything to him, my words got stuck in my throat, like birds frozen in place before a predator. I fought to hold back my tears, pushing them to the corner of my mind, where they threatened to spill over and reveal the storm raging inside me.

— Axelle? Talk to me... Wait, are you crying? Chris asked, concerned.

A painful knot forms in my throat, almost choking me, as my emotions spill out like a raging torrent. My tears, like wild streams, roll down my cheeks, leaving salty traces on my skin, silent witnesses to my suffering.

— Please... Tell me what’s happening. Where’s Aaron?

Chris repeated, panicked.

As soon as those words left my lips, my sobs intensified, drowning my words in an ocean of distress.

I gasp between my sobs, barely able to breathe.

— Please, Chris, you have to help me, I beg you! Get me out of this nightmare...

This plea, filled with deep fear, comes from my terror of the consequences if I stay here, vulnerable to new dangers. A heavy silence settles, followed by the distinct sound of keys and the creaking of a door, reaching me through the phone like a breath of fresh air in my suffocating despair.

— Okay, I’m coming to get you. Can you get out safely?

His voice is gentle, full of understanding.

I manage to answer with a trembling voice, a simple "yes."

— I know it’s not easy, but stay calm. Here’s what we’ll do: you’re going to leave the house, and I’ll come pick you up. I’ll be there in the next ten minutes, at most. Keep your phone with you, okay?

He speaks in a calm, reassuring voice.

I respond with a steadier tone, but the weight of the situation still hangs heavily on my shoulders.

The conversation ends quickly. I need to leave here, now.

next chapter

[hiddevans]

prologue

Summary:Axelle James' perfect life shatters when a career opportunity turns into a fight for survival.

Pairing:Chris evans x agent !married woman !Axelle James x actor ! married man ! Aaron James

Warnings: 18+, age difference (ten years between them and chris is the oldest), teasing, vulgar language, smut, , angst mention of rape, sexual assault, mention of alcohol, drunkenness and I think it's all in warning

Word Count: 2 863

story masterlist

Chris Evans masterlist

next chapter

A/N: English is not my first language, so sorry if there are any grammatical errors. I don't know if I've said this before, but I wrote this story in French on my Wattpad. I'm writing it in English to perfect it, so if you find any mistakes, let me know!

I don’t allow translations, stolen content, plagiarism, or reposts anywhere other than MY own platforms, which are listed in the "about me" section on the pinned post of my blog :)

POV Axelle

After what felt like an eternity, I found myself stuck in a rather awkward situation, locked inside the guest room. It was as if time had frozen on purpose, trapping me there, pacing in circles. My emotions, like a raging sea, surged with intensity, threatening to sweep away everything in their path—even the slightly artificial calm of this room. I fought inwardly to keep myself from bursting into tears, refusing to show my vulnerability or attract even more stares and judgments.

With my legs folded against my body and my hands resting gently on either side of my knees, I leaned against the smooth wooden door. The pounding of my heart echoed in the heavy silence, matching the unsteady rhythm of my trembling body. A single tear slid slowly down my cheek, which I wiped away with a light motion of the back of my right hand before resting it gently on my knee again.

My breathing, initially steady, quickens. I try to regain some sense of calm.

Aaron breathes softly, almost like a whisper, through the slightly open door. He is sleeping deeply, seemingly lost in a peaceful slumber that wipes away the worries of before. We've been married for over five years.

We had decided to separate for more than a month, something that was really going to be hard to handle. The evening right before we parted left a bitter taste, as if I could already feel the big hole his absence would leave. Even though I had done everything I could to pull out all the stops, hoping he would notice me, the man I love barely looked at me. A quick glance, no more than three seconds, and that was it.

A few hours before returning to our quiet house, we were in the middle of the buzz of a party, surrounded by laughter, lively discussions, and the familiar faces of friends and colleagues. The evening had started on a high note, with an atmosphere full of cheer and camaraderie. But little by little, I began to feel exhausted, and the joyful mood from the beginning started to fade. Meanwhile, Aaron seemed to want to forget everything, sinking one drink after another without restraint.

As the night went on, it became more and more apparent that I was the one who would have to drive us home without any problems. When we arrived, Aaron could barely stand, and I found myself supporting him by the shoulder to keep him from stumbling and to help him make his way to our bedroom.

There, I helped him take off his party clothes, swapping them for much more comfortable ones while gently guiding him toward the bed so he could lie down and get some sleep. As he drifted into a heavy, slightly restless slumber, I went to the bathroom to change as well, trying to give myself a quiet moment after this chaotic night.

But as soon as I left the room, a wave of regret hit me hard. All the effort I had put into taking care of him was now throwing a harsh truth right in my face, one that wasn’t easy to swallow.

I finally got rid of that evening dress, the very one I had spent ages hesitating over, thinking it might catch his eye. I let it fall to the floor without much thought. Behind me, I hear the bed creak slightly under his weight, but honestly, I don’t care. I’m too caught up in the need to just turn the page on this exhausting day.

As I remove my bra, almost absentmindedly, I suddenly feel a presence behind me. A cold hand gently brushes against my skin, making me shiver. It’s Aaron, his voice slightly hoarse and heavy with alcohol, whispering softly.

Aaron stepped closer, his gaze hazy yet determined.

— I don’t think I told you how beautiful you look tonight, my love, he murmured.

His hand slid into my hair, pushing it aside to expose my neck. His warm breath brushed against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine that I couldn’t suppress. I tensed slightly, feeling uneasy.

— Aaron… I said softly.

My voice barely echoed in the darkness of the room, swallowed by the silence of the night.

— It’s already three in the morning, do you realize that? You’ve had a long day, I added in a calm but firm tone.

He lifted his head, visibly puzzled by my response. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, showing genuine confusion.

— What? What’s wrong, baby? I can’t even tell you how insanely sexy you look and how much I want to fuck you in that dress? he replied, a mix of surprise and insistence in his voice.

I took a deep breath, trying to push away the exhaustion weighing heavily on my shoulders and quiet the chaos in my mind.

— Aaron, I’ve already told you I don’t like it when you talk like that, and even less when you call me “baby.” Come on, let’s just go to bed. You’ll really regret it in the morning when you’re exhausted, I said, my voice firm but composed.

With a small gesture, I motion toward the bed, where the blanket lies in a crumpled heap. But before I can move any further, Aaron grabs my hand and pulls me abruptly toward him. His hands settle on my hips, his warmth easily seeping through the thin fabric of my nightshirt.

He tilts his head, clearly about to kiss me. Instinctively, I raise my hand between us, just in front of my mouth, stopping him. His gaze, filled with desire at first, shifts slightly, a shadow of concern flickering in his eyes.

Aaron stares at me, his expression a strange mix of confusion and reproach.

— What’s wrong, Axelle? You don’t want to kiss me anymore? You don’t feel anything for me or what?

I gently place my hands on his chest to push him away, without any roughness. I take a few seconds to gather my thoughts before responding, trying to stay calm.

— First of all, Aaron, the smell of alcohol on you isn’t exactly pleasant. And given how late it is, the best thing we can do is get some sleep. We’ll talk about all this tomorrow when we’re a bit more rested, I say, trying to keep my tone firm but not harsh.

My words seem to slide right off him, as if I hadn’t said anything at all. The confident smile that had been playing on his lips vanishes in an instant, replaced by an expression of frustration and suspicion.

The silence grows heavy, broken only by his voice, laced with reproach and a hint of sadness.

— It’s because of him, isn’t it? he says sharply.

I frown, completely lost.

— Who are you talking about, Aaron?

He clenches his fists, his gaze growing darker.

— Stop taking me for an idiot, Axelle. It’s because of Chris, isn’t it? Just tell me the truth!

I freeze, thrown off by the sudden turn this conversation is taking.

Chris?

What does Chris have to do with this situation now? My mind spins as I try to make sense of this accusation.

— Chris? What does he have to do with any of this? Aaron, you know this has nothing to do with him. I’m just tired and frustrated tonight. It’s been a long, exhausting evening, and your behavior has only added to my exhaustion. I don’t want to talk about this right now. You know what? If you’re not tired, that’s your problem. But I am, and I’m going to bed. Tough luck for you, but I need to rest.

I turn away from him, irritated by his immature behavior that’s been dragging on for far too long. I’m tired of his excessive jealousy that poisons our relationship.

But he stops me in my tracks, blocking my way with determination.

Then, he explodes, his voice vibrating with uncontrolled anger:

— What does he have that I don’t, Axelle?

His eyes burning with rage.

— Without me, you would have never gotten that role, you would have never met him, and this is how you thank me? What does he have that I don’t? Axelle, seriously, he’s ten years older than you! Your silence speaks. You’re nothing but a little bitch!

This is the final straw. My blood boils and, without thinking, my hand slaps his cheek, leaving a reddish mark. I instantly regret it, then quickly correct myself.

—You're crossing the line, Aaron. You have no right to speak to me like that! Do you really think you can insult me like that? I'm tired of your incessant jealous outbursts! What's wrong with you, anyway? I married you! Damn it! You know what? I'm going to sleep in the guest room, you're tiring me out.

I try to free myself from his grasp, but his grip around my waist tightens, almost painfully.

—Aaron, let me go, you're hurting me right now.

—Oh no, you don't move from here. I'll show you what it feels like to cheat on me with someone else, you bitch.

—Aaron, I'm not cheating on you with anyone. Let me go. Now.

Aaron violently pushes me against the wall despite myself and kisses me fiercely without my consent.

I tried in vain to push him away, but to no avail. He was holding me quite firmly against the awkward wall.

His hands began to wander over my body, and without understanding how it had happened, I found myself lying on my back on the bed with a look of terror. His mouth, against mine, then descended sharply to my neck...

—Aaron, stop, please, I don't want to do this.

He looks up at me for half a second with an unrecognizable smile.

—That'll teach you to be promiscuous with that idiot actor. It's all YOUR fault. Quiet, let me finish, you'll end up enjoying it.

I didn't mean to do it.

I told him no.

He didn't listen to me.

He slurred my words.

I said NO.

He didn't care.

Exhausted and covered in sweat, he collapsed onto the sheets, panting, trying to catch his breath, while I remained there, frozen on the bed, my eyes fixed on the ceiling, my senses numbed and my mind on pause.

A feeling of emptiness washed over me as I stared at the ceiling. Despite all the things I wanted to tell myself, I felt completely helpless in the face of what was happening right before my eyes.

The loud breathing of the man I had once loved finally pulled me out of my stupor. Summoning my last bit of strength, I left the room, taking my phone with me, seeking some peace in the guest room. A part of me felt empty, devastated, as if I had been swept away by a wave of sadness. I never would have thought the man I had married, the one who had seemed so perfect, would make me go through this.

A flash of clarity crossed my mind as I tried to regain control. I have to leave here. Facing his reaction when he wakes up is out of the question; I can’t do it. My hands were shaking as I quickly searched through my contacts. Even though it seemed completely out of place to call him at this hour, he’s the only one who can help me now. I put the phone to my ear, anxiety tightening in my throat, and waited, nervous, to hear his voice on the other end of the line.

— Please, answer, I whispered.

I murmured, as the phone continued to vibrate in the stillness of the night, its persistent ring echoing through the quiet.

— Axelle? Why are you calling me at this hour? Is everything okay?

Chris replied, his voice still thick with sleep.

Even though I desperately wanted to spill everything to him, my words got stuck in my throat, like birds frozen in place before a predator. I fought to hold back my tears, pushing them to the corner of my mind, where they threatened to spill over and reveal the storm raging inside me.

— Axelle? Talk to me... Wait, are you crying? Chris asked, concerned.

A painful knot forms in my throat, almost choking me, as my emotions spill out like a raging torrent. My tears, like wild streams, roll down my cheeks, leaving salty traces on my skin, silent witnesses to my suffering.

— Please... Tell me what’s happening. Where’s Aaron?

Chris repeated, panicked.

As soon as those words left my lips, my sobs intensified, drowning my words in an ocean of distress.

I gasp between my sobs, barely able to breathe.

— Please, Chris, you have to help me, I beg you! Get me out of this nightmare...

This plea, filled with deep fear, comes from my terror of the consequences if I stay here, vulnerable to new dangers. A heavy silence settles, followed by the distinct sound of keys and the creaking of a door, reaching me through the phone like a breath of fresh air in my suffocating despair.

— Okay, I’m coming to get you. Can you get out safely?

His voice is gentle, full of understanding.

I manage to answer with a trembling voice, a simple "yes."

— I know it’s not easy, but stay calm. Here’s what we’ll do: you’re going to leave the house, and I’ll come pick you up. I’ll be there in the next ten minutes, at most. Keep your phone with you, okay?

He speaks in a calm, reassuring voice.

I respond with a steadier tone, but the weight of the situation still hangs heavily on my shoulders.

The conversation ends quickly. I need to leave here, now.

next chapter

[hiddevans]

Love Yourself [ Chris Evans ]

pairing : Chris evans x agent !married woman !Axelle James x actor ! married man ! Aaron James

warnings: 18+, age difference (ten years between them and chris is the oldest), teasing, vulgar language, smut, fluff, angst mention of rape, sexual assault, lawsuit and I think it's all in warning

summary: Axelle James, a French woman married to Hollywood star Aaron James, appears to have it all. As her husband’s agent, she moves through the dazzling world of cinema, where success and glamour are part of everyday life.

But when an unexpected career opportunity arises, everything takes a dark turn. What seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime chance quickly unravels into something far more dangerous, pulling her into a web of deception she never anticipated.

Soon, Axelle realizes that the real danger isn’t always where you expect it to be. As trust shatters around her, she finds herself caught in a game where every move could mean survival—or disaster.

Can she escape before it’s too late?

the chapters :

Chapters with an ‘*’ in the title mean that there's some smut.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

More to come soon

[hiddevans]

Chapter 4

Summary:Axelle James' perfect life shatters when a career opportunity turns into a fight for survival.

Pairing:Chris evans x agent !married woman !Axelle James x actor ! married man ! Aaron James

Warnings: x

Word Count: x

story masterlist

Chris Evans masterlist

previous chapter

A/N: English is not my first language, so sorry if there are any grammatical errors. I don't know if I've said this before, but I wrote this story in French on my Wattpad. I'm writing it in English to perfect it, so if you find any mistakes, let me know!

I let out a deep sigh, completely worn out by this never-ending cycle that seemed to repeat itself every single morning. My tired, unfocused gaze settled on the cup of coffee in front of me, still sending up thin wisps of steam. I frowned, trying to make sense of why Aaron kept acting like this—so repetitive, so confusing. Sitting there at the kitchen table, I already felt drained, with absolutely no motivation to take on another day, especially not with this same frustrating situation running circles in my mind.

I felt myself zoning out, lost in thought.

A wave of frustration bubbled up inside me as I reached for the kitchen counter, gripping it tightly.

Aaron, leaning against the door, was gearing up for another round of target practice. But man, he was already sick of this never-ending morning routine—it was like being stuck in a loop. His expression said it all, a mix of boredom and frustration, as if he was mentally groaning:

— Come on, do we seriously have to go through this every single morning? It’s getting ridiculous.

As I watched him, a drop of coffee sloshed over the edge of his cup and landed smack in the middle of his crisp white T-shirt. The dark stain spread instantly, standing out like a giant bullseye.

I let out a deep sigh, rolling my eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. My irritation must’ve been written all over my face. Without a second thought, I swiped away the incoming call on my phone, in no mood to deal with anyone’s nonsense today.

In the awkward silence that followed, I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to lighten the mood and get rid of that invisible weight hanging over us. I sure as hell didn’t want to kick off my day with this cold air between us. So, gently, I spoke up:

— Honestly, I really don’t like starting the day like this, giving each other the cold shoulder.

My breath, barely audible, gave away a vulnerability I usually worked hard to hide, but right then, it was all too obvious and unavoidable.

Aaron, on the other hand, looked lost, totally caught off guard by the honesty in what I’d just said. Seeing his confusion, I decided to keep going, determined to say exactly what was on my mind.

— I don't really see why we need to schedule this appointment so damn early tomorrow morning.

I made an effort to keep my cool, fully aware my words might come across as blunt. But honestly, what I saw in him was just the surface of the bigger mess weighing on us. Aaron rolled his eyes so dramatically it was almost annoying, before heading off to the bathroom. I could hear the water running, which meant he was brushing his teeth. And let me tell you, I was already dreading the moment he’d turn off the tap and come back in here.

When he finally came back, wearing a new T-shirt that somehow made him look even hotter (which definitely didn’t help calm my frustration), I noticed something about him: his eyebrows, a little uneven, clearly showing he was pissed, and his mouth barely open, like "I disapprove, but I’m not gonna say much." In his eyes, there was a silent question, but it was loud and clear anyway:

— Seriously?

His response, without saying a word, was a mix of rhetorical disbelief and barely-veiled disdain. It was like he thought it was totally ridiculous that I was this pissed over something he saw as a minor thing. But even with that hint of arrogance, I didn’t flinch. I crossed my arms tight, letting him know I was sticking to my guns and ready to speak my mind, no sugarcoating.

— Yeah, seriously.

I said it with a firm tone, my arms crossed tightly, making it pretty clear I wasn’t backing down.

Every time we had a disagreement, Aaron always seemed to try to make me question my own feelings, like what mattered to me wasn’t worth a damn to him. To him, this was just some minor thing. I knew he wasn’t trying to be all condescending or bossy, but the way he contradicted me made my blood boil. All I really wanted was for him to actually take what I was feeling seriously.

— Seriously, Axelle? It’s just a meeting.

His shrug made it pretty obvious he didn’t think it was a big deal, like he was trying to brush it off and keep things calm.

But no way I was letting him get away with that.

— It’s not just a meeting, Aaron.

I said it with a firm tone, because for me, there was way more to this whole thing than he was willing to see.

I whispered that, lowering my arms in a move that almost felt like giving up before the fight even started. I felt defeated, like I’d already lost, even though the real battle hadn’t even kicked off yet. All I wanted was for him to understand what I was feeling, and why, without these little arguments turning into bigger, messier fights.

— It’s just that...

I hesitated, my voice getting a little higher, the words struggling to come out.

Aaron raised an eyebrow, his face showing that fake smirk like he was just waiting to hear what excuse I was gonna pull out. Standing by the bathroom door, he looked like a guy who’d rather stay put than come into the kitchen and deal with me.

My heart was pounding as I tried to gather the courage to keep going. I cleared my throat, fully aware of the lump of emotion tightening in my chest.

— Honestly, I hardly ever see you these days, and let’s be real—that’s not just a coincidence. With all your nonstop shoots and the way you're constantly jetting off somewhere, it’s like you’re barely around. And even when you are physically here, it feels like your mind is a million miles away, caught up in something else entirely.

My voice cracks a little.

I forced myself not to lose it, or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself in my head.

Aaron’s smile spread across his lips, but it hit me like a punch in the gut, sharp and bitter.

— Oh, excusez-moi de vouloir vraiment bien faire mon travail et d’en tirer quelque chose. Désolé si c’est une chose si terrible.

His tone was so sarcastic, it felt like he was just digging the knife in deeper, in the cruelest way.

I took a deep breath, holding back the desperate urge to just snap. If I wanted him to be more present, I had to meet him halfway, no question about it. But for him, it sometimes felt like that was easier said than done.

— You know that’s not what I mean!

Aaron, clearly fed up, was now letting his frustration show, but that didn’t stop him. He kept going, playing the part of the curious guy with a question that felt totally off:

— So, what’s really bothering you?

Hands on his hips, he looked like he actually cared, but let’s be real—he was just trying to back me into a corner, to push me to my breaking point.

I bit my tongue at his little provocation. Not because I had nothing to say—I had plenty—but because I knew if I opened my mouth, this would spiral even more out of control. And right now, staying calm seemed like the smartest move.

I was wrestling with myself, trying to swallow the lump in my throat, but Aaron? He just kept piling it on, using every little opening to test my patience.

— You can’t just pin this on me because of my schedule. You knew exactly what you were signing up for from the start. I’ve always had a lot on my plate, and you agreed to it without hesitation.

He repeated it like some kind of final argument, like those words alone should magically fix everything. Like the fact that he’d always been a busy guy, something I’d accepted from day one, meant I had no right to feel the way I did.

It was like he expected me to just smile, shrug it off, and say:

"Oh, of course, my bad, it’s totally on me."

But instead, I just stared at him, my eyes stinging, my breath tight, fighting like hell not to let the tears spill over. He had no idea how much those words cut, how deep they dug into me. And God, I just wanted him to see it—to stop looking at this from his side only and finally, finally understand what this was doing to me.

My bottom lip trembled slightly as I fought to keep my composure. The thought of crying out of anger was especially infuriating to me. In the past, Aaron had often come to me for comfort, and each time, I ended up feeling this unjust guilt, like I was somehow at fault. It always left our problems hanging there, unresolved, like dark clouds casting a shadow over our relationship. I wasn’t about to let that happen again.

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it was more than just a lump now—it felt like a damn stone.

— That’s not what this is about at all, Aaron, I said in a low voice, trying to sound stern, but it came out more like a plea.

Aaron ran a hand through his hair, like he was trying to calm down, then turned to face the wall, unable to hold my gaze. But eventually, he spun around to face me again.

— I don’t get what’s bothering you!

His eyes widened, and his voice got louder, sharper.

— Is it because I have to move for work that you don’t feel good enough? Or is it because I have other priorities besides catering to every little thing you need?

His words, full of bitterness and exhaustion, hit the air like a slap of cold reality.

— I hate saying this, Axelle, but you’re not the damn center of my world. DAMN IT!

He spoke with this weird mix of confidence and desperation, throwing words at me that hit right where it hurt the most. Words that could leave scars, the kind that stick with you forever, no matter how hard you try to shake them off.

I could feel the fury in Aaron's eyes, the way he was judging me, and the pain that was slowly tightening around my chest. Those would be images I wouldn’t ever forget, burned into my memory.

— I just want to work, he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

But he didn’t budge an inch, not even a step closer to the door.

I knew if I let him leave now, we'd end up right back here again, fighting about the same thing as soon as I had the guts to bring it up again.

— I want us to fix this, I said, gesturing to the space between us, that invisible gap that felt like a damn chasm.

Instead of answering, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking completely drained.

— I'm exhausted, he muttered.

It was clear he’d made his choice.

I hated having to wonder whether he was talking about being physically tired or just plain fed up with me.

I jumped to my feet, grabbed my bag, feeling this sudden rush of urgency. I made up my mind to leave the house before Aaron figured out that I’d rather walk away than stay with him. The bitterness of the whole situation hung in the air, and I just needed to get out, to breathe, to put some space between me and all the chaos swirling around inside me.

— Fine, whatever!

I slammed the door behind me, not looking back.

Joe Russo let out a heavy sigh, his voice carrying a mix of impatience and a ton of built-up frustration.

— Seriously, we need to put a hell of a lot more energy into this project, guys. You all know exactly what I expect from you, so let's go all in, alright?

The room, usually buzzing with creative chatter as we read through the script, now felt like it was suffocating in thick silence.

— Remember, we're here for a script read, not just to hang out. The whole point is to really dive into your characters. If you want to throw in some improv with the dialogue, go for it, but make sure it still fits the vibe and tone we’re going for.

The youngest of the Russo brothers, dead set on pushing the actors to fully embody their roles, dove into an even more detailed explanation. He painted the scene in a lavishly decorated living room, and although his words were aimed at the one actress in the room, the look on her face made it clear she was struggling to meet the high expectations.

On my end, I tried my best to stay focused. Being there as a neutral observer meant I had to stay sharp, even though Aaron, true to form, had ignored me since we’d arrived on set. He seemed totally wrapped up in his role, throwing in the occasional fake smile.

— Axelle, can you join us, please?

I snapped out of my daydreams, reacting quickly to the sound of my name being called. A few heads turned my way, just a brief moment of silent curiosity. Pushing myself off the railing I’d been leaning on, I walked with a light but determined step toward Joe and the others, who were already on stage.

— Since you’ve been backstage, we’d love to hear your thoughts.

He turned to face me, his piercing gaze trying to lock onto mine.

— I think the guys are sticking a little too much to the script, which is totally killing the authenticity. I can’t really explain it, but it’s like they’re struggling to make the text their own, and it’s been an issue for a while now.

I let my gaze slide over the two men in front of me. To my left, almost directly across from me, was Chris, with a slightly shy but open attitude, completely lost in his character. Thinking about it, I figured that lovely scent might actually be coming from him. And right in front of me, there was Aaron, who for some reason was doing his best to avoid locking eyes with me.

— If you’ll allow me to share my thoughts.

I started, taking a deep breath.

— I don’t think the problem is their knowledge of the script. I’m sure they’ve got it down, at least mostly. But they seem pretty uncomfortable, that’s what I’ve noticed.

At that exact bloody moment, Antony strolled over, Emily right behind him, both looking dead curious about whatever the hell I was on about. Every pair of eyes locked onto me, like I’d just dropped the juiciest bit of gossip. Even Aaron, who’d been avoiding my gaze like the plague, finally flicked a glance my way, like he actually gave a damn.

I took a deep breath, pulling my thoughts together before I carried on.

— What I’m trying to say is just...

I knew I had to tread carefully. Last thing I wanted was to piss someone off or have them take it the wrong way.

— I mean...

I paused for a sec, then carried on.

— Ethan’s got that natural soft touch, yeah? Proper gentleman type, you get me? James, though, he’s the total opposite. Sharp edges, complicated as hell, and that’s what makes him dead interesting. But see, both of them have their own stories, their own layers, which is what makes them so damn good.

I scanned the faces around me, watching for any flicker of interest, or, you know, someone ready to tell me I was talking bollocks.

— Look, I really reckon Aaron and Chris got cast in the wrong bloody roles. Chris should be playing James, no question. And Aaron? He’s made for Ethan. Swapping them would add something proper fresh to the whole thing, make the characters feel real, like they actually fit in their own skins.

Right, so at that exact bloody moment, Antony wandered over, Emily tagging along, both of them looking proper nosy about whatever the hell I was rambling on about. Suddenly, every single person in the room had their eyes on me, like I’d just announced I was moving to Mars or something. Even Aaron—who’d been doing a solid job of pretending I didn’t exist—finally glanced over, like he might, just might, actually care.

I took a deep breath, trying to piece my thoughts together before I made an even bigger mess of it.

—Look, what I’m getting at is just...

Had to pick my words right. Last thing I needed was to piss someone off or start some pointless argument.

—I mean...

Quick pause.

Then I went for it.

—Ethan’s got this proper soft side, yeah? Just a naturally good bloke, the kind that’d hold the door open for you even if you were miles away. Proper gentleman, if you know what I mean. But James? He’s the total opposite—sharp edges, bit of a mystery, the type you can’t quite figure out but you want to. That’s what makes him interesting. Thing is, both of them have their own thing going on, their own layers, and that’s what actually makes them work.

I looked around, trying to suss out if anyone was actually with me on this or if they thought I’d lost the plot.

—All I’m saying is, Aaron and Chris got their roles switched. Chris should be playing James, no question. And Aaron? He’s Ethan, through and through. If they swapped, it’d bring something fresh, something real. The whole thing would feel more natural, more alive.

I was silently begging for someone—anyone—to break this thick, awkward tension. And just when I thought we’d all suffocate in it, Chris finally spoke up, his excitement cutting through the silence like a knife.

—I think that’s a brilliant idea! I mean, what’s the harm in giving it a shot? Worst case, it doesn’t work. Best case? It changes everything, right?

He shot me a quick grin, almost like encouragement, before turning to the Russo brothers. They were both deep in thought, clearly weighing up what this little shake-up could mean.

After what felt like forever, Joe finally spoke, snapping us out of limbo.

—Yeah, you know what? Why the hell not? Nothing to lose. What do you think, Tony?

Anthony let out this small sigh—somewhere between approval and resignation—before nodding. That was all it took.

In a flash, the scripts got swapped between Chris and Aaron. And yeah, I didn’t miss the flicker of irritation in Aaron’s eyes, but I made the executive decision to pretend I hadn’t seen it. No idea what his deal was, but one thing was clear—we were both in this now. A role switch, a little game of our own, whether we liked it or not.

previous chapter

[hiddevans]

Chapter 3

Summary:Axelle James' perfect life shatters when a career opportunity turns into a fight for survival.

Pairing:Chris evans x agent !married woman !Axelle James x actor ! married man ! Aaron James

Warnings: x

Word Count: x

story masterlist

Chris Evans masterlist

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A/N: English is not my first language, so sorry if there are any grammatical errors. I don't know if I've said this before, but I wrote this story in French on my Wattpad. I'm writing it in English to perfect it, so if you find any mistakes, let me know!

The chapters will be a mix of fake Instagram posts and actual story chapters. There will be more real chapters than Instagram posts, but those posts are still super important to fully get the story and its little details.

April 5th 2022 instanpotins instagram

liked by   netflix,disneyplus and 4896  others

instanpotins Hey there! You know we’re always on the lookout for the juiciest gossip, and today… oh boy, we’ve got something that’s gonna have people losing their minds! 😱

So this morning, our photographers managed to snap an exclusive shot of two rising stars on set in Atlanta. And not just anyone—Chris Evans and Aaron James! 😍 Word on the street is they’re filming a scene together in a set that looks like it’s straight out of some futuristic world 🚀. Honestly, who even cares about the details right now? Fans are already losing their minds just thinking about these two legends sharing the screen in an upcoming movie. The hype is REAL!

But hold up… nothing’s confirmed yet. 😕

Fingers crossed this means a mind-blowing collab is on the way! You can bet we’re keeping our ears to the ground for any updates, and of course, we’ll spill the tea as soon as we know more. Stay tuned! 😉 #ChrisEvans #AaronJames #SetSecrets #MovieMagic #SpillTheTea 🎥

view all  2 003 comments

mollylovers Smells like an award, no doubt about it! These two actors are absolutely killing it, this is gonna be nothing short of legendary! 🏆

aaronjamesafnclub Damn, Aaron, you’re just insane at everything you do. No doubt you’re gonna crush this project with Chris! 🔥

nohere Wait, who even is that again? Some new hotshots? Meh, not really my vibe... 🙄

actionmoviesonlyOh hell yeah! Finally, a team-up between two actors who’ve really got some guts! I’m crossing my fingers for a hardcore action flick or a full-blown war movie, something that lets 'em go all out and show us what they’re made of! Bring on the explosions and badassery! 🤘🔥

love65 Honestly, I just can’t picture them in some futuristic setup. Feels kinda off, ya know? Would’ve made way more sense in a rom-com or something. Don’t you think? Way better vibes!

marvelanaticNot tryna get ahead of myself, but man, if these two end up in a superhero flick, that would be straight-up legendary! Absolute madness! Fingers crossed! 🤞🔥

cinephilia86 Oh man, I can’t sit still right now! Chris and Aaron are hands down my favorite actors. If these two are teaming up, you just know it’s gonna be absolutely insane! Pure fire! 🤩🔥

annabellys Well, well, two rising stars, huh? Ain’t they taking themselves a bit too damn seriously? Feels like they’re tryna act all high and mighty or somethin’!

riaddict27 Well, two rising stars, huh? I dunno, they’re kinda coming off as a bit full of themselves, don’t you think? Like, chill a bit, guys.

previous chapter Next chapter

[hiddevans]

Chapter 4

Summary:Axelle James' perfect life shatters when a career opportunity turns into a fight for survival.

Pairing:Chris evans x agent !married woman !Axelle James x actor ! married man ! Aaron James

Warnings: x

Word Count: x

story masterlist

Chris Evans masterlist

previous chapter

A/N: English is not my first language, so sorry if there are any grammatical errors. I don't know if I've said this before, but I wrote this story in French on my Wattpad. I'm writing it in English to perfect it, so if you find any mistakes, let me know!

I let out a deep sigh, completely worn out by this never-ending cycle that seemed to repeat itself every single morning. My tired, unfocused gaze settled on the cup of coffee in front of me, still sending up thin wisps of steam. I frowned, trying to make sense of why Aaron kept acting like this—so repetitive, so confusing. Sitting there at the kitchen table, I already felt drained, with absolutely no motivation to take on another day, especially not with this same frustrating situation running circles in my mind.

I felt myself zoning out, lost in thought.

A wave of frustration bubbled up inside me as I reached for the kitchen counter, gripping it tightly.

Aaron, leaning against the door, was gearing up for another round of target practice. But man, he was already sick of this never-ending morning routine—it was like being stuck in a loop. His expression said it all, a mix of boredom and frustration, as if he was mentally groaning:

— Come on, do we seriously have to go through this every single morning? It’s getting ridiculous.

As I watched him, a drop of coffee sloshed over the edge of his cup and landed smack in the middle of his crisp white T-shirt. The dark stain spread instantly, standing out like a giant bullseye.

I let out a deep sigh, rolling my eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. My irritation must’ve been written all over my face. Without a second thought, I swiped away the incoming call on my phone, in no mood to deal with anyone’s nonsense today.

In the awkward silence that followed, I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to lighten the mood and get rid of that invisible weight hanging over us. I sure as hell didn’t want to kick off my day with this cold air between us. So, gently, I spoke up:

— Honestly, I really don’t like starting the day like this, giving each other the cold shoulder.

My breath, barely audible, gave away a vulnerability I usually worked hard to hide, but right then, it was all too obvious and unavoidable.

Aaron, on the other hand, looked lost, totally caught off guard by the honesty in what I’d just said. Seeing his confusion, I decided to keep going, determined to say exactly what was on my mind.

— I don't really see why we need to schedule this appointment so damn early tomorrow morning.

I made an effort to keep my cool, fully aware my words might come across as blunt. But honestly, what I saw in him was just the surface of the bigger mess weighing on us. Aaron rolled his eyes so dramatically it was almost annoying, before heading off to the bathroom. I could hear the water running, which meant he was brushing his teeth. And let me tell you, I was already dreading the moment he’d turn off the tap and come back in here.

When he finally came back, wearing a new T-shirt that somehow made him look even hotter (which definitely didn’t help calm my frustration), I noticed something about him: his eyebrows, a little uneven, clearly showing he was pissed, and his mouth barely open, like "I disapprove, but I’m not gonna say much." In his eyes, there was a silent question, but it was loud and clear anyway:

— Seriously?

His response, without saying a word, was a mix of rhetorical disbelief and barely-veiled disdain. It was like he thought it was totally ridiculous that I was this pissed over something he saw as a minor thing. But even with that hint of arrogance, I didn’t flinch. I crossed my arms tight, letting him know I was sticking to my guns and ready to speak my mind, no sugarcoating.

— Yeah, seriously.

I said it with a firm tone, my arms crossed tightly, making it pretty clear I wasn’t backing down.

Every time we had a disagreement, Aaron always seemed to try to make me question my own feelings, like what mattered to me wasn’t worth a damn to him. To him, this was just some minor thing. I knew he wasn’t trying to be all condescending or bossy, but the way he contradicted me made my blood boil. All I really wanted was for him to actually take what I was feeling seriously.

— Seriously, Axelle? It’s just a meeting.

His shrug made it pretty obvious he didn’t think it was a big deal, like he was trying to brush it off and keep things calm.

But no way I was letting him get away with that.

— It’s not just a meeting, Aaron.

I said it with a firm tone, because for me, there was way more to this whole thing than he was willing to see.

I whispered that, lowering my arms in a move that almost felt like giving up before the fight even started. I felt defeated, like I’d already lost, even though the real battle hadn’t even kicked off yet. All I wanted was for him to understand what I was feeling, and why, without these little arguments turning into bigger, messier fights.

— It’s just that...

I hesitated, my voice getting a little higher, the words struggling to come out.

Aaron raised an eyebrow, his face showing that fake smirk like he was just waiting to hear what excuse I was gonna pull out. Standing by the bathroom door, he looked like a guy who’d rather stay put than come into the kitchen and deal with me.

My heart was pounding as I tried to gather the courage to keep going. I cleared my throat, fully aware of the lump of emotion tightening in my chest.

— Honestly, I hardly ever see you these days, and let’s be real—that’s not just a coincidence. With all your nonstop shoots and the way you're constantly jetting off somewhere, it’s like you’re barely around. And even when you are physically here, it feels like your mind is a million miles away, caught up in something else entirely.

My voice cracks a little.

I forced myself not to lose it, or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself in my head.

Aaron’s smile spread across his lips, but it hit me like a punch in the gut, sharp and bitter.

— Oh, excusez-moi de vouloir vraiment bien faire mon travail et d’en tirer quelque chose. Désolé si c’est une chose si terrible.

His tone was so sarcastic, it felt like he was just digging the knife in deeper, in the cruelest way.

I took a deep breath, holding back the desperate urge to just snap. If I wanted him to be more present, I had to meet him halfway, no question about it. But for him, it sometimes felt like that was easier said than done.

— You know that’s not what I mean!

Aaron, clearly fed up, was now letting his frustration show, but that didn’t stop him. He kept going, playing the part of the curious guy with a question that felt totally off:

— So, what’s really bothering you?

Hands on his hips, he looked like he actually cared, but let’s be real—he was just trying to back me into a corner, to push me to my breaking point.

I bit my tongue at his little provocation. Not because I had nothing to say—I had plenty—but because I knew if I opened my mouth, this would spiral even more out of control. And right now, staying calm seemed like the smartest move.

I was wrestling with myself, trying to swallow the lump in my throat, but Aaron? He just kept piling it on, using every little opening to test my patience.

— You can’t just pin this on me because of my schedule. You knew exactly what you were signing up for from the start. I’ve always had a lot on my plate, and you agreed to it without hesitation.

He repeated it like some kind of final argument, like those words alone should magically fix everything. Like the fact that he’d always been a busy guy, something I’d accepted from day one, meant I had no right to feel the way I did.

It was like he expected me to just smile, shrug it off, and say:

"Oh, of course, my bad, it’s totally on me."

But instead, I just stared at him, my eyes stinging, my breath tight, fighting like hell not to let the tears spill over. He had no idea how much those words cut, how deep they dug into me. And God, I just wanted him to see it—to stop looking at this from his side only and finally, finally understand what this was doing to me.

My bottom lip trembled slightly as I fought to keep my composure. The thought of crying out of anger was especially infuriating to me. In the past, Aaron had often come to me for comfort, and each time, I ended up feeling this unjust guilt, like I was somehow at fault. It always left our problems hanging there, unresolved, like dark clouds casting a shadow over our relationship. I wasn’t about to let that happen again.

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it was more than just a lump now—it felt like a damn stone.

— That’s not what this is about at all, Aaron, I said in a low voice, trying to sound stern, but it came out more like a plea.

Aaron ran a hand through his hair, like he was trying to calm down, then turned to face the wall, unable to hold my gaze. But eventually, he spun around to face me again.

— I don’t get what’s bothering you!

His eyes widened, and his voice got louder, sharper.

— Is it because I have to move for work that you don’t feel good enough? Or is it because I have other priorities besides catering to every little thing you need?

His words, full of bitterness and exhaustion, hit the air like a slap of cold reality.

— I hate saying this, Axelle, but you’re not the damn center of my world. DAMN IT!

He spoke with this weird mix of confidence and desperation, throwing words at me that hit right where it hurt the most. Words that could leave scars, the kind that stick with you forever, no matter how hard you try to shake them off.

I could feel the fury in Aaron's eyes, the way he was judging me, and the pain that was slowly tightening around my chest. Those would be images I wouldn’t ever forget, burned into my memory.

— I just want to work, he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

But he didn’t budge an inch, not even a step closer to the door.

I knew if I let him leave now, we'd end up right back here again, fighting about the same thing as soon as I had the guts to bring it up again.

— I want us to fix this, I said, gesturing to the space between us, that invisible gap that felt like a damn chasm.

Instead of answering, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking completely drained.

— I'm exhausted, he muttered.

It was clear he’d made his choice.

I hated having to wonder whether he was talking about being physically tired or just plain fed up with me.

I jumped to my feet, grabbed my bag, feeling this sudden rush of urgency. I made up my mind to leave the house before Aaron figured out that I’d rather walk away than stay with him. The bitterness of the whole situation hung in the air, and I just needed to get out, to breathe, to put some space between me and all the chaos swirling around inside me.

— Fine, whatever!

I slammed the door behind me, not looking back.

Joe Russo let out a heavy sigh, his voice carrying a mix of impatience and a ton of built-up frustration.

— Seriously, we need to put a hell of a lot more energy into this project, guys. You all know exactly what I expect from you, so let's go all in, alright?

The room, usually buzzing with creative chatter as we read through the script, now felt like it was suffocating in thick silence.

— Remember, we're here for a script read, not just to hang out. The whole point is to really dive into your characters. If you want to throw in some improv with the dialogue, go for it, but make sure it still fits the vibe and tone we’re going for.

The youngest of the Russo brothers, dead set on pushing the actors to fully embody their roles, dove into an even more detailed explanation. He painted the scene in a lavishly decorated living room, and although his words were aimed at the one actress in the room, the look on her face made it clear she was struggling to meet the high expectations.

On my end, I tried my best to stay focused. Being there as a neutral observer meant I had to stay sharp, even though Aaron, true to form, had ignored me since we’d arrived on set. He seemed totally wrapped up in his role, throwing in the occasional fake smile.

— Axelle, can you join us, please?

I snapped out of my daydreams, reacting quickly to the sound of my name being called. A few heads turned my way, just a brief moment of silent curiosity. Pushing myself off the railing I’d been leaning on, I walked with a light but determined step toward Joe and the others, who were already on stage.

— Since you’ve been backstage, we’d love to hear your thoughts.

He turned to face me, his piercing gaze trying to lock onto mine.

— I think the guys are sticking a little too much to the script, which is totally killing the authenticity. I can’t really explain it, but it’s like they’re struggling to make the text their own, and it’s been an issue for a while now.

I let my gaze slide over the two men in front of me. To my left, almost directly across from me, was Chris, with a slightly shy but open attitude, completely lost in his character. Thinking about it, I figured that lovely scent might actually be coming from him. And right in front of me, there was Aaron, who for some reason was doing his best to avoid locking eyes with me.

— If you’ll allow me to share my thoughts.

I started, taking a deep breath.

— I don’t think the problem is their knowledge of the script. I’m sure they’ve got it down, at least mostly. But they seem pretty uncomfortable, that’s what I’ve noticed.

At that exact bloody moment, Antony strolled over, Emily right behind him, both looking dead curious about whatever the hell I was on about. Every pair of eyes locked onto me, like I’d just dropped the juiciest bit of gossip. Even Aaron, who’d been avoiding my gaze like the plague, finally flicked a glance my way, like he actually gave a damn.

I took a deep breath, pulling my thoughts together before I carried on.

— What I’m trying to say is just...

I knew I had to tread carefully. Last thing I wanted was to piss someone off or have them take it the wrong way.

— I mean...

I paused for a sec, then carried on.

— Ethan’s got that natural soft touch, yeah? Proper gentleman type, you get me? James, though, he’s the total opposite. Sharp edges, complicated as hell, and that’s what makes him dead interesting. But see, both of them have their own stories, their own layers, which is what makes them so damn good.

I scanned the faces around me, watching for any flicker of interest, or, you know, someone ready to tell me I was talking bollocks.

— Look, I really reckon Aaron and Chris got cast in the wrong bloody roles. Chris should be playing James, no question. And Aaron? He’s made for Ethan. Swapping them would add something proper fresh to the whole thing, make the characters feel real, like they actually fit in their own skins.

Right, so at that exact bloody moment, Antony wandered over, Emily tagging along, both of them looking proper nosy about whatever the hell I was rambling on about. Suddenly, every single person in the room had their eyes on me, like I’d just announced I was moving to Mars or something. Even Aaron—who’d been doing a solid job of pretending I didn’t exist—finally glanced over, like he might, just might, actually care.

I took a deep breath, trying to piece my thoughts together before I made an even bigger mess of it.

—Look, what I’m getting at is just...

Had to pick my words right. Last thing I needed was to piss someone off or start some pointless argument.

—I mean...

Quick pause.

Then I went for it.

—Ethan’s got this proper soft side, yeah? Just a naturally good bloke, the kind that’d hold the door open for you even if you were miles away. Proper gentleman, if you know what I mean. But James? He’s the total opposite—sharp edges, bit of a mystery, the type you can’t quite figure out but you want to. That’s what makes him interesting. Thing is, both of them have their own thing going on, their own layers, and that’s what actually makes them work.

I looked around, trying to suss out if anyone was actually with me on this or if they thought I’d lost the plot.

—All I’m saying is, Aaron and Chris got their roles switched. Chris should be playing James, no question. And Aaron? He’s Ethan, through and through. If they swapped, it’d bring something fresh, something real. The whole thing would feel more natural, more alive.

I was silently begging for someone—anyone—to break this thick, awkward tension. And just when I thought we’d all suffocate in it, Chris finally spoke up, his excitement cutting through the silence like a knife.

—I think that’s a brilliant idea! I mean, what’s the harm in giving it a shot? Worst case, it doesn’t work. Best case? It changes everything, right?

He shot me a quick grin, almost like encouragement, before turning to the Russo brothers. They were both deep in thought, clearly weighing up what this little shake-up could mean.

After what felt like forever, Joe finally spoke, snapping us out of limbo.

—Yeah, you know what? Why the hell not? Nothing to lose. What do you think, Tony?

Anthony let out this small sigh—somewhere between approval and resignation—before nodding. That was all it took.

In a flash, the scripts got swapped between Chris and Aaron. And yeah, I didn’t miss the flicker of irritation in Aaron’s eyes, but I made the executive decision to pretend I hadn’t seen it. No idea what his deal was, but one thing was clear—we were both in this now. A role switch, a little game of our own, whether we liked it or not.

previous chapter

[hiddevans]

Bucky Barnes in Thunderbolts* New Avengers’ end credit scene (2025)

[hiddevans]

Love Yourself [ Chris Evans ]

pairing : Chris evans x agent !married woman !Axelle James x actor ! married man ! Aaron James

warnings: 18+, age difference (ten years between them and chris is the oldest), teasing, vulgar language, smut, fluff, angst mention of rape, sexual assault, lawsuit and I think it's all in warning

summary: Axelle James, a French woman married to Hollywood star Aaron James, appears to have it all. As her husband’s agent, she moves through the dazzling world of cinema, where success and glamour are part of everyday life.

But when an unexpected career opportunity arises, everything takes a dark turn. What seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime chance quickly unravels into something far more dangerous, pulling her into a web of deception she never anticipated.

Soon, Axelle realizes that the real danger isn’t always where you expect it to be. As trust shatters around her, she finds herself caught in a game where every move could mean survival—or disaster.

Can she escape before it’s too late?

the chapters :

Chapters with an ‘*’ in the title mean that there's some smut.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

More to come soon

[hiddevans]

[hiddevans]

i’m tired of the smut bring back thor’s poptart addiction and clint being in the vents all the time

[hiddevans]

Sebastian has some of the creepiest “fans”. No wonder he stopped posting on social.

[hiddevans]

SEBASTIAN STAN for 2025’s May issue of Vanity Fair.

[hiddevans]

Love Yourself [ Chris Evans ]

pairing : Chris evans x agent !married woman !Axelle James x actor ! married man ! Aaron James

warnings: 18+, age difference (ten years between them and chris is the oldest), teasing, vulgar language, smut, fluff, angst mention of rape, sexual assault, lawsuit and I think it's all in warning

summary: Axelle James, a French woman married to Hollywood star Aaron James, appears to have it all. As her husband’s agent, she moves through the dazzling world of cinema, where success and glamour are part of everyday life.

But when an unexpected career opportunity arises, everything takes a dark turn. What seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime chance quickly unravels into something far more dangerous, pulling her into a web of deception she never anticipated.

Soon, Axelle realizes that the real danger isn’t always where you expect it to be. As trust shatters around her, she finds herself caught in a game where every move could mean survival—or disaster.

Can she escape before it’s too late?

the chapters :

Chapters with an ‘*’ in the title mean that there's some smut.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

More to come soon

[hiddevans]

Missing him o’clock