Y/n L/n and Tom Hiddleston have had an ongoing rivalry for three years now, the initial dislike for each other merging into hatred.
As they rejoin with Marvel for another movie and get cast together in more projects, they realise they don't hate eac...
"You lot! Get your asses in here for costume try ons!"
"I'm so excited to be strutting around in leather for the next few months" you groaned, tying your hair up as you walked in with Chris. "I love Freyja but why does she always wear leather?" (The character you play is Freyja, the Goddess of Battle.)
"Do you ever stop complaining?" Tom asked, rolling his eyes.
"You are lucky these daggers are props" you muttered, throwing one at him.
Annoyingly he caught it without even looking, glancing over at you with a smirk. "What was that supposed to do darling?"
"I swear to fuck if you call me darling again-"
"I thought you two promised to keep it civil!" Anthony shouted from across the room.
"I didn't make any promises, he did!" You shouted back, flipping Tom off. "Asshole."
"I won't swear at a lady even if I hate her."
"Stop being such a British jerk."
"Darling, you're British."
"Alright that's it-"
"Just go put on your costume" Chris laughed, covering your mouth with his hand.
"Hemsworth, I need to shove this prop sword down your best friends' throat and hope that I hit something vital."
"So vicious" Tom smirked.
"Don't test me jackass."
"Alright, go to your stylists everyone!" Joe called out, the actors all moving off to their little stations.
To your annoyance, Tom's station was right beside yours, both of your stylists chatting away to each other.
"Anthony you better be fucking kidding, I am not putting up with him everyday more than I have to" you called out to him as he and his brother left, the director just waving sweetly before stepping out of the room.
"Always complaining" Tom commented as he walked up beside you, the tall actor looking down at you. "Do you ever stop?"
"I would like to give you a kind reminder that I can easily punch you in your crown of jewels if I so wanted."
"I'd rather you didn't do that."
"Then shut up and go turn back into a greasy rat."
"Says you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You have to wear a wig as well" he answered. "It's not like you have red hair" (If you do you can change Freya's hair colour.)
"Maybe I do, what if I just dye my hair a different colour?" you shot back. "It's not like you have shoulder length black greasy ass hair now do you?"
"As you said, maybe I just dye my hair brown."
"Don't even try brown you ranga."
"Ranga? Since when were you Australian?"
"Maybe I am."
"You were born in London."
"Stalker."
Tom rolled his eyes. "You're a famous actress, of course I know where you were born. Everyone knows."
"Where was I born?" Anthony shouted over from where his and Seb's stations were.
"America!" Tom called back.
"Where in America?"
Tom was quiet, the others smirking at each other.
"So you know where Y/n is from but not us?" Rdj quizzed with a smirk. "Suspicious Thomas."
"Robert, kindly, shut up."
"He has a point" you said, punching him lightly in the ribs. "So stop irritating me and go get your makeup done."
"Rude."
"Are you two actually getting along?" Paul questioned, looking surprised.
"No" the two of you scoffed, glaring at each other. "Of course not."
"Paul you ruined it" Lizzie sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. "They were so close being nice to each other."
"I'd rather rip my own throat out thank you very much" you grumbled, flipping her off as you sat down in your makeup chair, Tom sitting in his beside you.
"Why are you so harsh?"
"I'm just expressing my true feelings Hiddleston."
"This is why we don't like each other."
"Correction, this is why we hate each other."
"I thought the Russo's asked you two to keep it civil?" Your hair stylist asked with a grin as she settled the wig cap into place, smoothing the glue down securely onto your skin. "This doesn't seem like it."
"I never promised" you countered.
"Honestly, what were they expecting?" Tom questioned in amusement. "We hate each other."
"Everyone knows that" you agreed. "I think this is the only time we've ever agreed on anything."
"I think it is."
"Let's keep it that way."
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When Freyja's not in her armour, she normally wears traditionally Asgardian dresses, the style based off elves.
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This is what I'm imagining, possibly with a simple leather corset over the top but you can imagine whatever you want :)
Your wig was unbraided, the long, wavy red hair tumbling just past your knees and flowing as you tested the movements of the dress while the costume designers watched for any changes they may need to make.
Tom was beside you in a simple green linen long-sleeved shirt and long black pants, his iconic wig pooling on his shoulders.
"I feel like a million bucks" you grinned, doing a little twirl in the dress at the request of your stylist.
"You only look like ten" Tom smirked.
"Says you. Greasy snake."
"You look like you haven't brushed your hair a month."
"It's a wig douchebag. Yours looked like you just dunked your head in a bucket of car oil."
"Oi! We're right here!" Tom's stylist laughed, shaking her head playfully at the two of you. "Stop being mean to each other."
