America x Reader. Just Like the Movies- part 1.

In the movie industry where terribly unrealistic fantasies are spun, it's common knowledge that the good guys always win. The good guy always gets the beautiful damsel.

   Emphasis on always.

   Every once and a while, some brave and idealistic soul steps up to the metaphorical 'plate' and directs a motion picture that haunts the industry for many years, eventually ending up in the 'Classics' category. These usually had plot twists and went against long-standing traditions.

   These movies were your favorite.

   You loved movies. Simple as pie. Well, actually, pie isn't that simple, it turns out. There's the baking of the crust, and then getting all the ingredients together, but anyway, it was simple.

    You loved the fact that around one-hundred complete strangers could all gather into one large room and share laughs and tears at the same big screen all together. Happy memories were made there, first dates started there in the dark. First kisses passed among strangers.

     There was always an unescapable sense of togetherness in a dark theater. And that unescapable sense of togetherness traveled even outside of the theater, where groups of friends would gather and ask if they liked the movie, reliving parts that they enjoyed. Even complete strangers would wonder if other's liked it, making new friends.

    You were alone that one day and had just seen an interesting picture about talking inanimate objects. While some other people found the concept charming, you found it amazingly creepy.

     It scared you to think that your belongings would suddenly wake up and go about their business while you had your back turned. Did they see you undress? Did your bar of soap hear you sing like a dying cat at the top of your lungs in the shower last night?

     As you pondered what your pillow's personality would be- it would be a pervert, you just knew it- a man asked you a question you had always dreaded. "Did you like the movie?"

    Now, you hated this question because of you inability to lie correctly, and you had no desire to impart that you'd developed a new phobia because of a children's movie, but he was just being polite, so you answered with this, "It was entertaining, but made me really question if my lamp had a soul or not." You retained a wonderful sense of 'blah', not caring if he thought you were weird or paranoid at the moment.

    "So you mean I'm not the only one who now thinks my Captain America action figure is watching me sleep?" He asked with surprise, falling in-step with you down the movie theater hallway.

    You smiled and let a small giggle escape your throat, glancing up at the man. He had messy blonde hair that you wanted to run your fingers through randomly. He wore glasses, his blue eyes sparkling with a childish charm.

     "You're not alone," you replied, "I just wonder how paranoid the person who made the idea for the movie was."

     He laughed lightly, sending a smile down at you, "So you're pretty, and funny." He remarked.

     You smirked, swishing around the Dr. Pepper filled styrofoam cup in your left hand, "Lucky you."

     Somehow later that night, you ended up pushed against his bedroom door, moaning softly as the man littered your neck with kisses and licks.

    You let out another soft moan as one of his hands rubbed the inside of your exposed thigh. "What was your name again?" You asked, panting slightly while arching your neck a bit against his mouth.

    "Alfred F. Jones," he replied, his hand tugging at the end of your shirt.

     "Oh, I'm (First and last name), nice to meet you." You introduced cheerily and pulled the shirt over your head, dropping it on the ground and letting Alfred pick you up.

     You wrapped your long legs around his waist and placed a few random kisses on his neck, blowing sensually into his ear. Running your fingers through his hair, you confirmed your earlier suspicion that it would be soft. The golden locks seeming to melt between your elegant and nimble fingers.

     By tomorrow, after you leave his house and hopefully never meet him again, he'd be completely erased from your memory like all the other men you enjoyed.

     Or so you hoped you'd never meet him again.