Work Text:
“I haven’t seen the Falcon movie… Oh wait, there isn’t one!” The fans go insane at Tom’s comment, and you nearly lose it backstage. You had finished your meet and greet early and decided to come crash Seb, Tom, and Mackie’s panel. You decide this is a good time to show yourself to the cameras since the fans are already pumped. Walking out onto the stage, the uproar becomes even greater. You smile and put your finger to your lips, signaling them to be quiet. The noise goes down significantly and you bite your lip, walking behind Tom, Sebastian, and Mackie, waiting for the perfect moment to surprise them. You suddenly put your hands over Tom’s eyes and he tries to turn his head, but you don’t let him.
“Guess who, Holland?” The playfulness is all too evident in your voice, and you say it loud enough for the mics to pick it up so the fans can hear. You can feel his cheeks lift as a result of his smiling.
“I wonder. Is it the famous Anastasia Romanoff?” The fans scream at his use of your character’s name, and you roll your eyes, grinning.
“No you idiot, it’s Y/N,” you quip, hugging him and burying your head in his shoulder. The commotion gets louder. Tom grabs your arms and almost pulls you over the back of the couch, but you pull back and ruffle his curls. “Not today, Holland,” you smirk. He pouts playfully.
You laugh, walking around the couch and plopping down in between Seb and Tom. You snatch Tom’s mic from him, yelling into it, “How’s it going Team Stark?”. Half of the hall erupts in cheers and the other half in boos. Sebastian and Sam look at you, playfully offended. Tom pulls you closer. The fans absolutely lose it, screaming, yelling and laughing. You two were the most popular OTP of both the MCU and the cast; it wasn’t really that hard to figure it out.
You had thought Tom was too cute to be real when you saw him in Civil War. Never did you think you had a shot at him; yes, you were a celebrity but the professions didn’t line up. You were a very popular singer who had made the Billboard too many times to count. When Marvel had contacted you in playing the role of Anastasia Romanoff, Natasha Romanoff’s secret daughter in Far From Home, you were shocked. Obviously, you accepted, auditioned, and got the role. Your fans were overjoyed and the Marvel fandom welcomed you with open arms. It really did feel like a family.
“Frankly Y/N, I feel offended.” Seb puts a hand over his heart. You just shrug, still in Tom’s protective arms. God, you loved it.
“Sebastian, I don’t think we need to be here. Let’s leave the lovebirds alone,” Mackie winks. Once again, the crows goes wild, and you just roll your eyes.
“We’re just friends, Mackie. Deal with it,” you say so convincingly that it nearly makes you believe it. Shit, no wonder Marvel gave you the role.
“I don’t understand.” Ugh, you could just imagine waking up to the sound of that British accent in the morning.
“Understand what, Holland?”
“Surely you’d be dating someone if she didn’t have her heart set on someone else?” Your face goes red and you pull away, laughing nervously.
“Maybe I just don’t want to date anyone?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. He puts his hands up in surrender.
“Y/N, stop lying. You have a crush.” Goddamnit, Sebastian and his big mouth. You put your head in your hands.
“This is why I don’t trust anyone.”
“You can trust me, you know?” Your stomach flips. “Who is it? Are they here tonight?” You smirk, deciding to play a little game with Tom.
“Hm, I’m not really sure. I think he is,” you feign looking around in the crowd, even though the love of your life was sitting right next to you. You hear Sebastian stifle a laugh.
“How about twenty questions?” Someone yells from the crowd and the interviewer grins, finally being given an opportunity to talk.
“That’s a great idea!” He exclaims, looking at your four. “Of course, if Y/N’s up to it?”
“If you say “no”, Y/N, you might as well say that you’ve lost,” Sebastian taunts, and you huff.
“I don’t know what losing is,” you flip the script on him, exaggerating the flip of your hair. The fans laugh at your antics and you smile, looking at the boys. “Hit me with your worst.”
“Maybe we should change it to five questions to spice it up more?” Mackie asks, and Seb nearly throws his microphone at him. The crowd starts screaming chants of “no!”. “Wait, no, I didn’t realize—”
“Good job Mackie! Let’s play five then, shall we?” You grin. This is going to be too easy.
“What’s his name?” Mackie immediately asks, trying to overshadow the huge mistake he just made. You bite your lip, trying to find out a way to beat the question, leaning into Tom’s mic.
“His name…” you think, “is one that everyone here knows.” He groans, having have been thwarted.
“Oh, so we’re playing that game? Two can play that game, darling,” he winks, and you nearly kiss him right there and then.
He would only call you “darling” in very specific situations, and he managed to catch you off guard every single time.
Your bottom lip parts in surprise, but you just smirk and lean into his mic once more, making sure that your faces were barely apart.
“Oh, two definitely can, Tommy.” He inhales sharply at the nickname, swallowing. You smirk and retract to your normal position as if nothing had happened. The crowd has completely lost it at this point.
“All right Y/N, what’s his profession?” Sebastian cocks an eyebrow and you roll your eyes, this one being way too easy.
“He’s influenced pop culture very heavily through his profession. That’s all I’m gonna say about it.” The fans “ooh” and Tom’s brows furrow while you chew your lip, weighing what you had just done. Now everyone knew that there were two major options: Shawn or Tom.
You and Shawn had become really close through singing and had even produced 3 collaborations, one of which had been at #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 for seventeen straight weeks. You loved him, but loved him as a brother. He felt the same way and he was dating Camila, although the public didn’t know about it yet. This was the main question your fandom was divided over. You and Tom, or you and Shawn?
“Have you gotten drunk with him before?” Sebastian asks. You roll your eyes.
“I feel like you’re trying to not let them figure it out. Yes, obviously. You weren’t there, though. He was.” You point to Holland. Once again, this gets them nowhere. You could be referring to one of the numerous times you had gone to the bar with Tom and his friends. Tom and the cast. Tom, Shawn, and Camila. There was no way of them knowing which occasion you were talking about. “Two questions left, boys. Choose carefully.” Tom finally decides to ask a question, opening his mouth then hesitating before asking.
“April 3rd, right? The bar down on King’s Square. He didn’t get drunk, but you did.” Your heart rate quickens. Shit. He had to guess right, didn’t he?
That night was one not you nor Tom would ever forget. Both of you had just finished a very stressful day of filming, and you weren’t having the best day to begin with. Tom had popped in and told you that you two were going to go have some fun, no questions asked. He ended up driving you two to a bar in Atlanta down on King’s Square. You had ordered a scotch and he had a glass of tequila. You can’t remember what happened after that, but you had definitely had more shots, to say the least. Although, there is one moment that you can remember second by second.
“Tommy,” you giggle, swaying right and left as he tries to keep you straight. Apparently you had had one too many drinks.
“Tommy? So that’s the new nickname?” You smile and tap his nose lightly, breaking out in laughter when he raises his eyebrows.
“Woah.” He grabs you just before you fall into the grass, hoisting you back up. “So you do have spidey-senses!” You squeal, and he rolls his eyes with a grin, pressing a button to unlock the car. He helps you get in before closing the door and getting in the driver’s seat.
“You’re going to have such a bad hangover tomorrow,” he remarks, starting the car.
“Hangover shmangover.” You giggle once again. “You know, Tom?”
“Hm, darling?” He asks, putting his phone down and turning to you. Before he can say anything else you kiss him, but pull away before he can decide whether or not to reciprocate. The shock on his features is evident, even in the dim two a.m. lighting. He doesn’t say anything, reversing out of the space. The last thing you remember is drifting asleep as he drives the car back to the set.
“Yeah,” you admit, nodding your head slowly. “That was the night.” He turns to his right, focused on you and you only. Ask it. Ask the question, Tom.
“Is it me?” You take a deep breath, realizing what you were about to do.
“Yes.” You start to talk, but he captures your lips with his own before you can do so. You don’t even register the uproar of the crowd, all of your senses fixated on him. He tasted like mint and innocence and heaven. He pulls back, panting. “It’s always been you.”
