tom holland oneshots

extra support T.H.

tom holland x psychiatrist!reader

wc: 1k

 "Alright everyone, really quickly," Anthony, one of the Russo brothers, quieted the set of people, crew members and actors focusing their attention on both the directors and the woman behind them. "I'm sure you've all read the email I mass-sent to you all, but I'd like to introduce our Psychiatrist, Dr. Y/N L/N." He gestured to you, and you waved to the people looking at you, slightly intimidated. "She'll be helping through the entirety of production, so let's give her a warm welcome!"

You heard them say, "Hi, Y/N," and you assumed the Russos did such a thing with every guest.

You stepped forward, straightening out your shirt. "Hi, I'm Dr. L/N. Feel free to just refer to me as my first name. I'll be here if anyone is having a hard time or... needs a bit of therapy or needs to relieve some stress."

You saw a few people nod, and you turned back to Joe with a tight smile, excusing yourself as you went off of the set. You wanted to set up in the trailer they'd given you.

You'd read the script. It was harsh, it was heavy, but it was real. That's what made it human. You knew the actors probably wouldn't warm up to your offers at first, but eventually they'd be coming in. It was typical in most of your patients, you had noticed. Denial played a big role in receiving help. You hoped, though, that they wouldn't come in too late.

**

It had been about two weeks since your first introduction. You were on set, taking notes of how people acted, picking apart their every move and their habits. What you didn't expect, however, was someone to come to you so soon.

It was mid afternoon, and you were sitting in your trailer, getting some work done online, when someone had rung your work phone. Picking it up, you heard the frantic voice of one of the Russo brothers, informing you they had halted filming for the next hour or so. They'd sent someone to your room, and you could only wonder who it was.

When you heard a very timid knock, you opened the door to see the star of the film himself, Tom. You smiled, inviting him.

"Hey, Tom," you sat down, and he sat on the couch beside your small table. "Everything alright."

He nodded, seemingly in thought, and you gave him the space to flutter as he pleased, allowing him to open up at his own pace. He was grateful for that — that you were more considerate than you would be if you were strictly following rules.

"I've just been..." his voice was rough and delicate, scratching and quite damp. "Having a really hard time." He cleared his throat. "We've been talking to so many veterans and people with addictions and I've just-" he sighed, hands rubbing his face and going over his head. "I've been so exhausted."

You saw a tear slip and set your clipboard down. Moving to sit beside him, you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, pulling him close in comfort.

"I just feel like I'm turning into him." He breathed out, gasping between breaths as he tried to slow his tears.

"You will never be him," you looked him straight into the eyes. "You're so strong, Tom. I've seen you these past few weeks and- I'm honestly surprised you didn't come sooner. I can see how much of a fighter you are, how in control of your mind and your headspace you are. And that's good," he let out a few more tears, looking down to his lap, and you pulled him closer. "You're doing so good."

He nodded, hand running over his buzzed head. "No yeah, I know," his voice was so broken, rasping beyond belief. "I'm terrified of becoming him- of... of losing who I am."

You nodded. "It's hard," you agreed. "Just because you can handle it doesn't mean you're not going to have rough patches. It's okay to have breakdowns like today. We know what you have to do and what you have to go through for this role," you lifted his chin, swallowing. "Days like this are going to happen, and you don't need to be sorry."

The two of you sat in each other's embrace for a few minutes after that, silence settling in the trailer.

"You're so good to me," he sighed out, and you shook your head.

"You deserve the best, Tom."

With all the time the two of you ended up spending together during production, a relationship had sprouted. He'd confided in you for basically everything, not just Cherry-related problems. He trusted you, and he was certain he loved you. It had only been a few months, and he didn't want to scare you off, but he still knew.

Press had started, from home of course. Over the course of quarantine, the two of you had gone public with your relationship, occasionally sharing a few pictures. He was in an interview now, smiling in his seat, a yellow-golden shirt fitted on his chest. You were sitting in the corner, out of the view of the camera.

"How hard was it to differentiate your headspace? Between Cherry, with such a dark persona, and you yourself. Was it difficult to keep it out of your personal mindset?"

"Uhm," he crossed his arms, biceps buff. "Well, it was definitely difficult. There were days on set where I'd just- I'd snap and I'd go up to the Russos and be like 'Hey, sorry about that.' And they'd say 'Dude, you're playing a drug addict. It's gonna happen,'" he laughed wholeheartedly. "But, I'd say we had really great support. My girlfriend was such a huge factor in keeping me in the right headspace through all of this."

"Your girlfriend is a.... Psychiatrist, right?"

Tom nodded with a smile, "Yeah, she is." He glanced at you when he replied, a small grin on his face as he watched you from afar. He was grinning like a madman when you stared back, and you giggled, waving at him in a silly manner. He waved back, momentarily forgetting he was on camera, and you tried not to laugh too loudly.

"Is she in the room with you?"

Tom's head snapped back to the monitor and he laughed, a blush coating his cheeks. "Yeah, she is," he scratched his neck. You stuck your tongue out at him, and he did the same. You were sure twitter was going to have a fit tonight.