So, 2017 is going to be a big year for you and Tom: New house, Homecoming premiere, wedding planning, oh and there's that whole illegitimate daughter coming to visit. Not a damn thing could possibly go wrong! The sarcastic, sweet, and sexy saga con...
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"Can I see?" you asked for the tenth time.
"No," Tom replied, flipping the page of his script. He was stretched out on the couch, learning his lines for the next Avengers movie. Shooting started next week and you still couldn't wrap your head around the fact that he was filming another movie as Spider-Man when his own movie won't be released for months.
You on the other hand, were drowning in more research and writing. School didn't let up just because you had shit going on. At this rate, you couldn't imagine a wedding happening at all. Your stress level currently was like a 42. And you still needed to find a job. And that shit with Liv's mom...You were wound up pretty tight lately. Good thing you had your boy toy to work out the kinks when you needed. He could almost sniff out your stress at times. One day, you were freaking out about your workload and Tom just crawled under the table and started eating you out in mid meltdown. Needless to say, you felt a bit better about tackling your assignments after that.
Now, perched in your familiar spot at the dining room table, you tapped away at your laptop, trying to concentrate. It was difficult with your phone blowing up every five minutes.
"Your mother again?" Tom asked when your phone dinged for the fifth time. You picked it up to see and bit your lip.
"No, it's Liv," you said, placing your phone back down. You slid your glasses off and rubbed your eyes.
Tom peered at you over his script
"You're not going to reply?" he asked with a crinkle of his brow. Guess you were ready to talk now. You sighed and closed your laptop.
"Liv's mom gave her a card to give to me before she left," you said.
Tom sat up, more attentive. He folded his arms over the back of the couch and rested his chin in them.
"And...?" he prompted.
"And...it wasn't very nice. It was basically a fuck off, insinuating that I would ruin her life if I meddled."
Tom crawled over the back of the couch and sat at the table with you. He seemed more upset over the matter than you, quite honestly.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, grabbing your hand.
"I'm telling you now," you said defensively. You recoiled and put your glasses back on. You opened your laptop and started tapping again. Tom grabbed your fingers to stop you.
"Y/N, you're not going to ruin her life by responding," he said, stroking the hand he held.
"Maybe the whole thing was a bad idea. I don't know...," you put your head in your hand and sighed.
"It was her choice to reach out to you. Her mother is just being overprotective," he said.
Yeah, but it hurt your feelings like a mofo. You tried to move past it but you just kept feeling like shit about the whole thing. The tone in her mother's message struck a nerve. Maybe you were reading too much into it, but there was this underlying insecurity you've always harbored when it came to class. You knew her parents were well off professionals from affluent Westchester County. They saw you as some teenage mom from a trashy corner of Forest Hills. Even though you crawled out of that quagmire and made something of yourself, you somehow ended up here jobless and living off someone else's income. There was an implication that you were still that same old trash and it didn't sit right with you.
I really need to get a job, you thought.
"Can I see your script," you asked again. Change the subject- yes, that's it, Y/N!
"No," Tom said emphatically.
"But you let me read the Homecoming script," you whined.
"No," he laughed, "You snuck it out while I was sleeping then threatened to punch me in the bollocks when I tried to take it back from you."
"Same difference," you shrugged.
"Darling, this is like major Marvel secrets here," he said waving the script, "They won't even tell me what's going!"
You cocked your head and laughed.
"They won't? Really?"
He flipped the script around and all your eyes could make out were black lines of redacted dialogue.
"There's barely any lines there," you said.
"I know!" he laughed nervously, "I have no idea what the fuck is going on!"
"I'm sure you'll be amazing no matter what, Tiger," you smiled, ruffling his hair.
"You're amazing," he murmured, leaning in for a kiss. You gave him a quick one then moved away before he could seduce you any further.
"I have to finish this," you insisted. He gave a little pout then a smile spread across his face.
"I can tell you're very stressed out," he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. You pursed your lips then held up your thumb and index finger to indicate a little.
"Only a little?" he smirked. Alright, you'll play along.
"I feel like pulling my hair out," you declared melodramatically, your hand fluttered over your heart.
Tom flashed you his grrr face and you practically jumped in your seat. He slipped underneath the table.
"I've got some hair you can pull," he growled.
You quietly grabbed his script and opened it with a smirk.
