#some context we had to go on a really long trip see a neurologist for my autism related stuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wazzupmrstark · 5 years

Text

We’re Only Kidding Ourselves- Part Five || Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: I know it hasn’t quite been a whole week since I posted Part 4, but there are a few new faces around here and I wanted to get another part up asap!!

Prompt: Enemies to lovers au (from @marvelellie‘s 1k writing challenge!!)

Summary: You work as a production assistant for the Spider-Man: Far From Home crew, or rather as Tom Holland’s handler. The two of you don’t get along very well to say the least, but you won’t quit and he can’t fire you so you’re stuck with each other.

Warnings: swearing, injury, angst y’all already know what the fuck is going on

What I listened to while writing: this italian music playlist on Spotify bc...Italy

Word Count: 3.9k

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

After what felt like an eternity Tom’s voice broke the silence. “Are we really doing this?”

“Do we have another choice?” you asked.

“Not that I can think of,” he sighed. You felt him roll towards you on the bed. You stiffened even further. “We’re adults, this shouldn’t be a big deal, right?”

“Are you talking to me or yourself?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just try and get some sleep, Tom. You’re filming for thirteen and a half hours tomorrow.”

“God, do you ever turn it off?”

You had the urge to turn towards him so that you could see his face, but you resisted. It felt too intimate, like if you did you’d be crossing some invisible line that you couldn’t come back from. So you stayed on your back, hoping he couldn’t read your expression in the dark. “What do you mean?”

“The handler, do you ever turn it off? Like when you close your eyes do you just see excel spreadsheets and schedules? Are you ever a normal person, or are you always this anal about everything?”

That stung. Just when you thought you had established some sort of understanding Tom had to be an asshole again. You heard Tom inhale sharply, probably regretting how harsh he sounded, but no apology came. You didn’t respond and bit your lip, trying to fight off angry tears that were threatening to fall.

You rolled out of bed, pillow in hand.

“Where are you going?” Tom asked when he felt the weight on the bed shift.

“I’m sleeping on the floor,” you replied bitterly.

“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous,” he said and you scoffed audibly. “No, that’s not how I meant it. I, I’m sorry! Just, you-”

“Don’t worry about it, Tom,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. “You’re my boss, we shouldn’t share a bed anyway, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You felt Tom’s eyes on you as you moved around the hotel room. You didn’t know what was going through his mind, but he didn’t say anything. You found extra blankets and even more pillows in the closet that you laid on the floor next to the bed. The floor was hard, like you’d anticipated, but what you hadn’t been expecting was how cold it would be. The carpet must only be a thin layer over a hard slab of concrete. With a huge exasperated sigh you sat up and crawled over to your open suitcase to put on a sweatshirt.

“Y/N, come back to bed.” Tom’s voice was gruff with fatigue.

You fought a shiver. Those words, in that tone, without context, sounded very sensual. But there was context. Months of it. So you only let it throw you off for a quarter of a second before responding.

“I’m fine, Tom. Go to sleep.”

If Tom had mentioned last night to either his brother or Harrison, they didn’t say anything about it to you. You were all huddled in one of the crew tents with the space heaters, standing behind the monitors watching Tom and Zendaya film a scene in the middle of the street.

Waking up this morning had been hell. You’d been in and out of sleep all night so you were exhausted. You and Tom had both lain awake for hours without speaking to each other. Your back hurt, your everything hurt. You’d been taking Advil all day for the pain in your muscles that was the result of sleeping on the ground.

“Tom’s really off today,” Haz muttered to Harry. “He keeps messing up his lines, and his accent keeps slipping.”

“Yeah I know,” Harry agreed. “I dunno what’s the matter with him.”

“Maybe he’s tired,” you suggested even though they hadn’t been talking to you.

“Said he slept fine,” Harry shrugged.

“Like a baby,” Harrison added and you had your answer about what the boys knew about last night. Not only had he not told them, he’d lied to them. But why? Your face must have given something away because suddenly both of them were zeroed in on you.

“What?” Harry asked. “Did he say something different to you?”

“Uh no, sorry” you lied. You were shit at lying and you might have been able to get away with it with Harry, but Haz had known you longer and furrowed his brows at you with suspicion. “My back just hurts,” not a lie, “I slept on it funny last night.”

Harrison’s expression changed from one of skepticism to one of concern. “Do you want to sit down?”

“No I’m fine, thanks.”

Everyone turned back to the monitors and you breathed a sigh of relief. Tom was still struggling out there and as he fucked up more and more Zendaya would shoot the camera glances like she was on Parks and Rec. A crowd of other crew had gathered around the monitor to watch and all murmured to each other about what was taking so long to move on to the next scene. To your surprise your immediate instinct was to defend Tom to them rather than join in, but you kept your mouth shut. Come on, you thought to yourself, get it together. No one was going to be happy with him if he extended their thirteen and a half hour work day.

After several more takes the scene finally seemed to be going pretty well until Tom tripped on a step and smacked his face onto the side railing. There was an audible ooh from everyone who was watching around you, but you didn’t stick around to hear anything else they had to say because you were already running. Haz and Harry were right on your heels, and they each passed you, but you kept your pace. Every muscle in your body was screaming at you to stop, but you couldn’t, you could worry about your own pain later.

By the time you got over to your boss he was already surrounded by medics and his friends. You stood on the edges of the crowd, trying to see what was going on. He’d hit his head from what you could tell. He looked like he wanted to cry.

You pushed through the crowd and made your way over to him. “Can everyone but the medics move back a little?” you shouted, taking control. You were only half expecting anyone to listen to you, but everyone did and took a few steps back to give Tom more room.

One of the medics ushered you closer and had you crouch down next to Tom. “He blacked out for a second. We’re going to need to check him for a concussion,” he said to you, a little out of earshot of Tom.

You looked at your watch. Filming was already a little behind. “Can you you do that to him here?”

The guy shook his head. “He needs to see a neurologist at the hospital a few miles away. He’s also going to need to rest for a few hours.”

“What’s going on?” Watts asked as he made his way through the crowd. The medic explained the same thing to him. “Fuck me.”

“He’ll be back in a few hours good as new,” the man promised Watts, but he shook his head and turned to you.

“Keep him resting until tomorrow, I’ll push up the scenes with Mysterio to this afternoon instead.”

You bit back a curse. That was going to inconvenience a lot of important people. You hoped they’d be understanding. “Have someone send me the new schedule,” you told Watts then addressed the medic. “I’ll grab his brother and best friend and we can go.”

“Wait what’s going on?” Tom asked the medics frantically as they spoke into their radios and to each other in Italian.

“They’re taking you to the hospital to see if you have a concussion,” you explained when no one else would answer.

“What?” He looked up at you with wild eyes. “No, no I’m fine,” he insisted and started to get up. As soon as he did the medics yelled at him to lay back down until they could get a boat. “I’m fine! I can keep going!” he shouted at them, giving you a desperate look. “Y/N-”

He’d never wanted your help before and it was the one time he did you couldn’t do anything. You felt guilty, but he needed to get to the doctor.

“Tom I want you to get some rest,” Jon said to Tom, crouching down to him.

“No, I can still-”

Watts put a hand out. “Don’t try and be a hero, you’re already playing the greatest one out there. We’re just going to move some scenes around and you’ll be back tomorrow good as new, okay? It’s not worth risking your health over. Take it easy today,” he looked up at you. “Miss Y/L/N, update me throughout the day. Make sure he gets some rest.”

You were a little surprised Jon Watts knew your name but you assured him that you would watch out for Tom. You liked the fact that he cared about his cast and crew. Even though he was upset about the accident and stressed out over rescheduling he hadn’t shown it to Tom because he already knew Tom was beating himself up about it and didn’t want to twist the knife. If you ever got to live out your dream of being a director you hoped you could be like him.

Harry and Haz were allowed to approach Tom after that and you watched them each talk to him. You stood off to the side and saw Tom wipe away tears of frustration and immediately looked away. You couldn’t start feeling sympathy for him now. It was going to effect how you did your job.

The first available boats on the canal were gondolas so Harry and Tom got in the first one with two of the medics while you and Haz got in the second with the other medic. Gondolas were supposed to be romantic. Racing to the emergency room with your boss was the least romantic reason to be in a gondola that you could think of.

You sat in the boat with your head in your hands.

“He’s going to be fine,” Haz assured you. “This isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to him on set before. He broke his nose on Chaos Walking.”

“I know, but this happened on my watch,” you groaned. “Tom is my responsibility.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have anything to do with this. He was just off today and that’s not your fault.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and shut your eyes tight because it very well could’ve been your fault. The fight and the lack of sleep had to at least be contributing factors. Tom had never had an off day like this before. What else could it be?

Tom was checked into the emergency room without much issue and the medics took him back immediately to see about his head. Harry joined you and Haz in the waiting room.

“Typical,” he said and gave half a chuckle as he made his way over to the both of you.

“Figures he’d fuck himself up walking and not doing stunts in the spider-man suit or something,” Haz chimed in.

“Div,” Harry laughed and shook his head.

You couldn’t believe neither of the boys were worried about Tom. From what you seen he’d hit his head pretty hard.

“You alright, Y/N?” Harry asked, noticing how quiet you were.

“Yeah, just a little stressed out.”

“About Tom? He’ll be fine,” Harry said, brushing it off.

“He was crying,” you said softly. “I’ve never seen him cry before.”

Harry cleared his throat but didn’t say anything.

“Want anything from the vending machine, Y/N?” Haz asked, clearly trying to change the subject. “I’m going to get some chocolate probably.”

“I’m good.”

“You should eat something,” he insisted. “Keep your energy up.”

“Fine, I’ll have a KitKat if they have them.”

“And if they don’t?”

“A snickers bar.”

He winked a confirmation and headed off around the corner, leaving you and Harry sitting in silence. You weren’t sure how to describe the mood in the room, but it was uncomfortable and dull, like the life had been sucked out of everything. Maybe that’s how all emergency rooms were, but it felt wrong.

Harrison returned with your KitKat a moment later, but the mood didn’t lift. Soon he was sucked into it too. The three of you, sitting in silence, waiting. You realized Haz and Harry had been joking around about Tom because it was their way of coping. They didn’t want to have to think about what might happen if Tom was seriously injured and you didn’t blame them.

You passed the time by talking to your parents and calling the hotel to see if any rooms had opened up. There was still nothing available, but you asked them to let you know when something did. When you hung up Tom was over at the front desk with the boys being discharged.

You walked over and looked at him expectantly. “I’m fine, stop looking at me like that.”

“Fuck off,” you shot back instinctively, completely forgetting that you were still in the emergency room for his head wound. Tom was in the middle of signing papers, but stopped to raise his eyebrows at you. “Sorry. So you’re completely fine?”

“They said if it is a concussion it’s super minor and that I should be fine by tomorrow. I’m just supposed to rest and keep an eye on how I’m feeling I guess.”

“Turns out your thick skull is good for something,” Harry joked and clapped Tom on the back.

“That was a cheap one, mate,” Tom laughed and shook his head at his brother.

Getting back to the hotel was an ordeal because some fans had seen Tom go into the hospital and were an absolute mess waiting outside the emergency room. Upon checking Twitter you saw that someone had tweeted that he’d died and had to stifle a laugh.

Harry and Haz offered to hang out with Tom in his room, but he told them he just wanted to be alone. Fuck, you’d expected to be at work all day and now you had to spend hours alone with Tom. It was early evening and you weren’t supposed to be back until after midnight. The sun had only just started setting. You might have taken a book down to the lobby or to a cafe around the corner except for the Jon had specifically asked you to keep an eye on Tom and make sure he was resting. You’d much rather give yourself a concussion, but followed him down the hallway and to your room anyway.

“There hasn’t been an update with the rooms,” you informed Tom after the door had shut behind the both of you “so we both have to stay in this one again.” He just nodded.

The room had been straightened while you were out. The bed was made and the blanket you’d slept on was folded neatly beside the pillows. You wondered what housekeeping had thought of the odd setup.

Tom immediately flopped on the bed with a groan. “I can’t believe how much of an idiot I am.” You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or just ranting out loud so you let him keep going. “The entire schedule had to be move around because of me, Marvel is having to pay the hospital bills, I cried in front of the whole cast and crew-”

“Everyone has an off day,” you offered, taking the armchair.

Tom sat up to look at you. “I had an off morning,” he corrected, “the day was a shit show.”

“You’ll look back on it and laugh.”

“Maybe,” he said reluctantly then suddenly threw himself back on the bed dramatically “fuck, going to work tomorrow is going to be so embarrassing.” He covered his face with his hands.

“The only option is to fake your own death.”

He lifted his hands from his eyes. “It’d never work, people know my face.”

“Plastic surgery.”

“My voice.”

“Half the world doesn’t even realize you’re British you’ll be fine.” Then you remembered the tweet you had seen. “Speaking of faking your own death, thirty thousand people on Twitter already think you’re dead so you should either run with it or fix that.”

“What?!” Tom already had his phone out. “You’re just telling me this now?”

“Oh my god, of course everything is always my fault.”

“Social media is literally in your job description.”

“Sorry I must have been distracted by the possibility of you actually dying!”

“You’re being dramatic, I wasn’t fucking dying!”

“You know what I mean! I was worried about you!”

“...You were worried about me?” Tom asked and as quickly as the bickering had started it came to a screeching halt.

“Uh yeah,” you felt sweaty all of the sudden. You had been worried about him...but only because it was the human thing to do. “Without you I don’t have a job, you know.”

“Wow, for a second I actually thought you cared about me,” Tom said with a smile, though it sounded like he was only half kidding.

“Me? Never.”

“Here how’s this?” Tom finished typing and handed his phone to you.

“‘Hey guys, not dead’? That’s it? You don’t want to make it funnier?”

He shrugged. “It’ll still get at least 50k likes anyway.”

“Asshole.” He laughed. “What about something like ‘sorry guys still alive’?” He made an eh hand motion. “Or...’sorry Anthony and Seb I’m still alive’?”

“That’s brilliant.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Go ahead and tweet it,” he said.

“Me?” you asked.

“Yeah, you already have my phone.”

You quickly typed it out and checked for typos before hitting send. It felt oddly powerful tweeting out to 2.5 million people. You wondered if that’s how Tom felt every time he tweeted something

You tossed the phone back to him on the bed. “I’m going to shower,” you told him. “Unless you want to go first?”

He shook his head. “All yours.”

You took the time to shave and wash your hair more thoroughly. This hotel had surprisingly nice shampoo. By the time you were done the bathroom was completely steamed up. Only once your hair was up in a towel did you realize you’d forgotten to bring a new change of clothes into the bathroom with you.

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered to yourself.

You could make one of two choices: put the dirty clothes back on or wrap yourself in a towel to go get your pajamas. Well, there was an unspoken third choice which was to go out into the room completely naked, but there was no way in hell that was happening. You decided to be an adult and wrap yourself in your towel to go get the clothes you’d forgotten. You’d just have to play it cool. Maybe Tom would be asleep.

Obviously with your luck he wasn’t. He was watching Baby Driver on cable when you came out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Shut up!” you said defensively and clung to the towel tighter.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“I forgot my pajamas, okay?” you huffed with embarrassment.

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal.”

Your cheeks were absolutely on fire as you rifled around in your suitcase for pjs. When you looked back up Tom was averting his eyes and looking at his phone, but he couldn’t hide the shit-eating grin on his face. So much for playing it cool. You were never going to live this down.

Once you were dressed and had somewhat regained you composure you joined Tom back in the room.

“How are you feeling?” you asked.

“Fine.”

“Are you hungry? We could order room service.”

“Sounds good,” Tom rolled over and snatched the menu off of the nightstand. “What do you want?”

“Do they have spaghetti?” you asked him.

“We’re in Italy.” Tom rolled his eyes. “Yes, they have spaghetti.”

“I can’t read the fucking menu from over here, I didn’t know!”

“Well they have spaghetti, Y/N.”

You ended up both ordering the spaghetti.

By the time the food came the credits to Baby Driver were rolling and Titanic was starting. It was in Italian, but there were English subtitles. You and Tom were sitting on the floor eating your pasta in front of the screen.

“I’ve never seen Titanic,” you admitted.

“Shut the fuck up,” he deadpanned. “It’s a classic!”

“It freaks me out.”

“It’s a romance.”

“All of those people dying is not romantic.”

“Don’t you want to be some sort of film director? You have to watch Titanic if you’re going to do that.” You were surprised Tom had remembered that about you. “You’re watching it. We’re not going to sleep until it’s over.”

You were okay with that. Watching a movie meant Tom was resting which is what you needed to make sure he was doing. Once you were both done with your spaghetti you placed the bowls and tray outside of the room and Tom took his turn in the shower, but not before making you promise you wouldn’t change the channel while he was gone. You moved to the bed to get more comfortable and found yourself getting invested in the story. You were starting to see why it was one of the most famous movies of all time.

When Tom came out of the shower you wanted to throw something at him. He was soaking wet and wearing nothing but a towel wrapped low around his waist.

“You’re unbelievable,” you scoffed and shook your head at him.

“What? I just forgot my pajamas!” he smirked as he grabbed clothes from his suitcase and retreated back into the bathroom. Dick.

When Tom was fully clothed and a little less drippy he joined you on the bed. As if on cue the scene in the car started as soon as he settled next to you. It wasn’t anything outrageously raunchy, but you still found yourself holding your breath until it was over. You were overly aware of Tom next to you, hair still wet, breathing evenly, eyes trained on the screen. You relaxed visibly once the scene cut and Tom laughed.

“You’re a dork.” It was the nicest insult he’d ever given you.

The painting scene made you want to die. Your palms were sweating and your cheeks were burning furiously. Tom remained entirely composed unless he was looking at you in which case he’d laugh and give you a hard time. You wished you weren’t so flustered.

“Hey, we’ve only got twenty minutes left, don’t fall asleep yet.” Tom shook your shoulder gently.

You had curled up on your side and your eyes had started to droop. It wasn’t your fault this movie was three years long. You groaned, but sat up anyway.

“This movie is too long,” you complained.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity the credits rolled. You had actually gotten a little emotional at the end, but you weren’t going to admit that to Tom.

The two of you were quiet as you got ready for bed. The silence was comfortable, for once. You both brushed your teeth and took your meds and Tom put on his retainers. It was all very domestic. Tom climbed into bed while you took a moment to plug up your phone and computer by the desk.

“Y/N?” Tom asked, breaking the silence.

“Hm?”

“Don’t sleep on the floor tonight.”

Sorry this is up kind of late tonight (but it’s not 2am like last time) !! I really need to get a schedule going lol. Thanks to @splashofbi and @patdandtop for the movie suggestions I was rlly struggling with those!! Anyway lmk what you think about the part!!

WOKO Tags: @parkerstylesperalta @everythingbooknerd @marvelellie @splashofbi @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @timelock97 @ohheyitsem @starsholland

Forever Tags: @mischiefmanaged49 @bookingbee @cloverrover @captainbuckyy

Send me an ask to be added/dropped from a taglist

#marvelellies1kcellie #were only kidding ourselves #woko #tom holland #TOM #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #spiderman #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #far from home #harrison osterfield #haz #enemies to lovers #peter parker #tom holland series

754 notes · View notes