Big Shot (Keanu Reeves x Reader)

Media Storm

(Your POV)
A few more months had passed. We had wrapped on the filming of the movie, so the movie was really out of our hands now. Our job until the movie came out was to do a promotion tour, interviews, red carpet walks, anything to get the name of the movie out there to make it a big hit. My first promotion tour sounded exciting and probably exhausting, but for the first time, I really felt like a star making my big debut. Right next to my secret boyfriend.
I knew that Keanu's "secret lover" would be a big topic of conversation during interviews. Keanu and I sat down and talked about what to expect from the interviews, which was nice. My manager did the same, but we weren't making an agreement not to let loose a secret of ours, like Keanu and I did. I felt ready for the interviews and the press.
That was, until our first big interview conducted by "the Weekly Mail" in LA. Keanu and I sat side by side, each getting powdered up and doing whatever else to get ready for the cameras. A beautiful woman sat in front of us and did the same, as a camera was pointed to her and then another was pointed on us. The lights went on and the cameras began rolling, and the woman introduced herself, Keanu and I, and our movie. It was all pretty standard, just like Keanu and my manager had claimed. Then, the fun questions came in. Not just questions about the movie, fun, definitely non-invasive questions about our personal lives.
The first question totally sent Keanu and I for a loop. Instead of the question I thought was going to be asked, a different, more shocking question was asked. The woman looked me directly in the eye and asked me only a few words.
"Are you Keanu's secret lover, Ms. (l/n)?"
I was left speechless. My mouth probably hung open while I was trying to put words together in my head. After a moment of silence, and Keanu looking at me intensely, I answered the question with a firm "no." Trying to make it a little less awkward, I threw in an uncomfortable laugh at the end of my short answer.
"Then let me ask you this, (y/n), who is your secret lover? You know the press has pictures of you leaving your house at odd hours or a car showing up with a mysterious someone inside, sneaking in. So... Who is it? We're all dying to know." I laughed uncomfortably again. My eyes glanced at Keanu's face, which was clenched and clearly a little bit frustrated.
"You'll just have to put all the puzzle pieces together, won't you?" I smiled at the woman and folded my hands anxiously, anticipating the next question eagerly. The woman was clearly not getting the answers she wanted, it was written all across her face. She was stumped. The target on my back shifted onto Keanu's quickly, and she began asking him questions.
"Keanu, are you thinking about settling down with your mystery woman soon? You are getting a bit... older, you know? Are you possibly thinking about having children too?" Keanu exhaled a long breath and smiled cheekily. He leaned forward a little and promptly answered the question.
"Yes, actually. She's a wonderful girl. She will also be a great mother when we're ready for children. We're just trying to take things slow for the time being. Can we start answering some different questions now? Maybe some that don't have to deal with our love life?" The face on that woman looked half satisfied, but not completely. I felt my face get sort of hot, but I pushed the feeling away to not let the cat out of the bag.
The interview ended an hour or so afterwards. It would be published the next morning, which was a little nerve wracking. Keanu and I were in the car, being driven to his house. That night we ended up postmating some food and enjoying each other's company, then falling asleep on the couch entangled in each other's arms.

(Keanu's POV)
       The bright sunlight shone through the window. I blinked a few times to let my eyes adjust, my hands running up and down (y/n)'s back. My face was buried deep in the top of her head, her hair smelled like some kind of tropical hair conditioner. I reached over to the coffee table to grab my phone, carefully though not to wake her. Upon opening up Facebook, I instantly saw a trending tab. One that made my heart sink. The tab read:
       "#1 Trending
        Keanu Reeves, (y/n) (l/n)"
I felt my face lose color instantly. I clicked on the tab slowly, which brought up a page full of speculating fans. All of the posts had screenshots of the interview, pictures of (y/n)'s face slightly red, staring at me, which I was smiling. Most of them had captions like "omg!!! they're so cute together 🥺❤️" or "they're so dating. I don't care WHAT (y/n) says."
       With a deep breath, I closed my phone and set it back down on the coffee table. I looked back at (y/n), laying my face back in her tropical smelling hair. I just hoped I could keep our secret, and my even secreter secret, under wraps until the perfect time came. I wanted everything to be exactly perfect for (y/n), and all of my planning would not go to waste because of public speculation on our relationship.
       Ever so gently, I laid (y/n) down on the couch and slid out from her grasp. I stretched a little bit before going to put on some presentable clothes, something a little more simple so the paparazzi wouldn't recognize me too quickly. I needed to keep my trip out of the house a secret. I wrote (y/n) a little note, saying I was going to the store for a few things, grabbed my keys, and left.
       My great adventure lead me to a jeweler. A very good one, actually. I parked my car around the corner and walked inside, to which the jeweler, Kerry, smiled happily. I had set up an appointment with her to look for a particular piece of jewelry. A ring in particular. Kerry pulled out a small, dark, velvet box and placed it on the counter, opening it slowly for me to see. Inside, the dainty ring sparkled. The band was a simple good band with a few diamonds next to the big sparkler, one large, oval diamond placed in the center of the beautifully crafted ring. For (y/n), it was absolutely perfect. I'd just have to contain myself long enough to give it to her at my perfect, planned time.