Renee Rapp x Fem Reader One shots

Over pressure

not proof read, shit long chapter

Reneé sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers running absently through her golden hair. The light from the window was muted by the heavy curtains, casting a soft, melancholic glow over the room. Her reflection in the mirror across from her was nothing like the image the world knew her for—glamorous, poised, always smiling on stage. In this quiet space, she was just a girl with her head in her hands, struggling to keep it all together.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, a message from Y/N.

"How are you doing, babe?"

Reneé stared at the message, the weight of it pressing down on her chest. She wanted to respond, wanted to say something, anything really, but words felt like they would shatter the fragile state of being she had managed to hold onto all day. She inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself, but the air felt thin, like it was slipping through her fingers.

"I'm fine."

It was the usual lie, and she knew it. Y/N would see right through it. But for some reason, the thought of opening up, even to her, seemed impossible. Because if she told Y/N the truth, it would mean admitting that everything she had built her career, her identity was slipping through her fingers.

The world didn't know how hard it was to be Reneé Rapp the golden girl with the perfect smile, the voice that could send chills down your spine, the face that graced magazine covers. The world didn't know how much it hurt to wear that mask, day after day, while everything inside her was falling apart.

She typed out a response anyway.

"Just tired. I'll be okay. Don't worry about me."

She hit send, but even as she did, she knew it wasn't true. She wasn't okay. And she didn't know if she would ever be okay again.

---

Y/N paced the living room of their shared apartment, her phone in hand. It had been a week since Reneé had last really opened up to her. The singer had been distant lately, withdrawing more and more. Y/N had tried to give her space, knowing how overwhelming things could get for Reneé with her career always in the spotlight. But Y/N wasn't stupid—she could see through the facade.

Reneé hadn't been herself. She hadn't been performing as well as usual either, her once-impassioned singing now lacking the usual fire. There were nights Y/N had to convince her to eat, mornings when Reneé's hands shook so badly she couldn't even make her coffee without help.

The buzz of her phone brought her back to the present. It was a message from Reneé.

"Just tired. I'll be okay. Don't worry about me."

Y/N's stomach tightened. That was the same line she had been hearing from Reneé for days now. Y/N had learned to recognize the signs, but today... today was different. Reneé's words were even more distant, more hollow than usual.

Y/N took a deep breath. She loved Reneé more than anything in this world, but she also knew how stubborn the other girl could be, especially when it came to admitting when she was struggling. Reneé had always been the strong one—the one who didn't need anyone, who could handle everything on her own. But Y/N wasn't going to sit by and watch the woman she loved fade away.

She grabbed her jacket and keys. It was time to see her.

---

The drive to Reneé's place wasn't long, but the silence in the car felt oppressive. Y/N gripped the steering wheel, her mind racing with what she would say, how she would approach Reneé without pushing her away. She loved her, and part of loving someone meant knowing when to push, when to pull back, and when to just listen.