#im kind of on a roll right now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eemcintyre · 2 years

Text

The Door is Open (Tom Cruise)

TW- Mentions of harassment. Other than that, just pure fluffy goodness with a dash of hurt/comfort to send us off.

Summary- you are a production assistant on the set of a 90s Tom Cruise movie, and he steps in when one of his costars threatens you (**I created a fictional movie and a fictional costar bc I'm not about to slander some random real-life actor for no reason lol**). Additional note: in this universe, he's only been married to Mimi Rogers.

A warm thank you to anyone who takes the time to read; this is just me having fun and taking the serotonin where I can get it

“Cut!” the director exclaimed as the cast finished filming the last of the scenes they had hoped to do before lunch. Just as crew members began to mill around set and the hum of conversation started up, as Tom Cruise ran a hand through his grown-out hair and did a couple of arm and back stretches, Y/N entered the soundstage balancing two cardboard trays full of drinks.

Although the caterer provided general meals and beverages, some of the cast and crew preferred to order drinks from an artisan café down the street. And, as one of the production assistant/PAs on the set of “Gold Rush,” it was Y/N’s job to run down the aforementioned street, to the aforementioned café, to fetch the aforementioned drinks, as well as do essentially any odd small job that anyone ranked higher than her asked her to do. And pretty much everyone was ranked higher than the PAs.

Although the work could be exhausting and she didn’t get a lot of please-s or thank you-s for what she did, Y/N was really enjoying the experience for the most part. She found it really interesting to see what went into all of the different units’ work, from set construction to costuming to lighting (when she wasn’t running for bottles of water or copies of the script, which was a lot of the time), but one thing she had not hoped to learn, at least so early on in her film career, was how slimy some of the actors could be.

While Tom Cruise, despite being the most well-known and successful actor in Hollywood, seemed from her observations to be the image of class and generosity, one of his co-stars, Bill Waters, was… less so. To be completely accurate, Bill Waters was a conceited asshole who faked affability around those he felt could benefit him and was used to getting anything he wanted at the snap of his fingers. And one of the things he had recently wanted, and was appalled to have not received, was Y/N. The other day, he had approached her alone outside the soundstage building and forcefully propositioned her, to the point that she had to slap him to escape his hold.

Ever since then, despite her rigorous attempts to avoid him, he had criticized, embarrassed, and overworked her at every chance. A couple of days ago, he yelled at her for taking so long to bring him a dish from a restaurant located across town, and yesterday, he’d purposely spilled the coffee she’d just brought him, just so she would have to get another one.

As she quickly made her way through the room, handing each coffee and tea to its recipient, she tried not to make eye contact with the fast-approaching Bill. When she thrusted the paper cup into his hand, he made a point to stroke her fingers when he took it from her. Y/N glanced up, startled, met with a faint smirk that made her sick to her stomach. She decided not to respond, hoping he would lose interest and go away as she moved on to the next set of people across the room, but he pursued her until he matched her speed-walking pace.

“Hey, this isn’t what I ordered,” he said, putting the cup in her face so that she had to narrowly dodge a passing crew member to not get doused.

“You said that you wanted a caramel brulée latte, and that’s what it is.”

“Oh, I must have forgotten to say that I didn’t want whipped cream. Whoops.” His smirk grew wider and more punchable as she kept failing to out-walk him without attracting attention. “Anyway, I’m not drinking this; you’ll have to run back out so you can get me the right thing.”

“Can’t you just skim it off the top?” Y/N protested, preparing to round a tight corner around a large set piece that several people were transporting, when she felt a searing pain across the front of her torso.

Dazed from the pain and the many eyes that were now on her, it took a moment for Y/N to register that the front of her shirt was splattered with Bill’s rejected coffee. A couple of her acquaintances from the hair and makeup department ran to get her some towels, as everyone else continued to stare.

“What is wrong with you?” Bill gasped, anger coloring his face. After a few moments of stunned silence, another voice chimed in.

“What the hell’s going on?” Tom Cruise appeared, confused, from within the assembled crowd. He sighted Y/N, dripping with coffee, and Bill, red in the face with obvious irritation, and his eyebrows furrowed suspiciously.

“She ran into me and made me spill my drink,” Bill complained, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, I saw you throw it at her,” Tom replied sternly. “You threw a hot coffee at Y/N. Why would you do that?” His voice was level and at a calm, low volume, but in his eyes, one could see that he was pissed. Even in the midst of the immense embarrassment, she was surprised and pleased that Tom Cruise, of all people, knew her name.

Y/N’s friends reappeared with handfuls of towels, and as they made their way to help dry her soaked shirt, Tom took one of the towels to hand to her as well.

“Well? What is wrong with you?” he continued to prod Bill.

“What’s wrong with me?” Bill’s gestures and expressions were becoming more agitated. “She’s the one who can’t figure out how to order the right drinks, or even hold them- I want her fired.”

Y/N paled, feeling even more sick and now slightly dizzy, at the prospect of her film career going down in flames before it could hardly begin.

“Do you think that, just because you’re more famous than she is, that you don’t have to treat her like a person? Is that it?” Tom glared.

“Do you think just because you’re Tom fucking Cruise that you can talk to me that way? Because I won’t stand for it.”

“I won’t stand for that kind of bullshit on my set,” Tom snarled, his temper finally slipping through to the open. “You can be a decent fucking person or you can get out. We’ll find someone else; no one’s irreplaceable.”

“Except you and whoever kisses your ass,” Bill spat, storming out past the crowd.

“You are out of here!” Tom yelled after him, even though he and everyone else knew that he most likely didn’t have the authority to make such a decision, even given his status in the industry.

Taken aback by the scene they had just witnessed, it took a few minutes for the crowd to dissipate. Y/N retreated outside to the parking lot behind the soundstage, dabbing at her stained shirt, her mind reeling with the very real possibility that her time on the “Gold Rush” set was over.

Realizing Tom had followed her out and was gazing at her with concern, she mustered “Mr. Cruise, t-thank you; you didn’t have to do that. I don’t want to cause any problems…”

“Did you throw a hot coffee on him?” Tom asked gently.

“N-no…?”

“Did you just curse everyone out?” The hint of a smile flickered at the corners of his mouth.

“No…”

“Well, unless you start doing that, you have nothing to worry about, as far as I’m concerned.” He paused, studying how she avoided his gaze. “He isn’t any better than you or me.”

They experienced another awkward silence, as no one else was currently in that part of the lot.

“Was that the first time that happened? Because I remember he also spilled his coffee yesterday. Maybe he’s the one who can’t figure out how to hold things.” Tom met Y/N’s surprised look knowingly, and with that, she found herself beginning to lose her composure.

“No, it’s not the first time,” her voice cracked, and she crossed her arms in a self-soothing motion as tears began to fall. “He’s pissed because I wouldn’t sleep with him- oh gosh, Mr. Cruise, I’m so sorry for crying, this is the last thing you need…” She covered her face, utterly mortified to be having a mental breakdown in front of Tom Cruise. She inhaled shakily in an effort to rein it back in. “I’m okay, I’m fine.”

“I want you to take fifteen minutes,” Tom replied softly, reaching for one of her heaving shoulders. “We need to get you a new shirt- I have an extra crew t-shirt from when they were handing them out the other day- and speaking of drinks, have you had anything to drink recently?” Y/N shrugged, not wanting to admit it and seem even more needy. ��That’s what I thought,” he shook his head. “You can sit in my trailer where no one will bother you, and then you’ll be ready to get back out there and finish the day on a high note.”

“Mr. Cruise, that’s very nice of you, but I don’t know…”

He realized she might be wary of the idea of his trailer after Bill had made his move on her. “We can keep the door open the whole time. I’ll sit on the opposite side of the trailer,” he grinned, raising his hands in a yielding gesture for emphasis.

“I- I didn’t mean-” she stammered, not wanting to offend another of the cast members.

“It’s alright.” He waved her forward in the direction of his trailer, and she conceded. “Now, we just have to stop this Mr. Cruise business. Y/N, please feel free to call me Tom.”

Once they reached his trailer, as promised, Tom left the door open behind them. After rooting through a few boxes and drawers, he located the aforementioned t-shirt.

“It is a men’s medium, and it’s not exactly a fashion statement…” he winced.

“It’ll do just fine; it doesn’t have any coffee on it, and that’s what I’m interested in.” Y/N finally found it in her to smile before quickly getting changed in the small trailer bathroom. She noted the towels, cologne, and other personal items on the sink counter, and it hit her more fully that she was literally in Tom Cruise’s trailer, a place she never could have envisioned visiting.

When she reemerged, she saw Tom leaning against the wall near the opposite end of the trailer, and a bottle of water that had been placed at the table down by her.

“I hope you like that kind; I mentioned I liked it and they sent me a whole case,” Tom chuckled. “Anyway, I can’t finish it all by myself.”

“Thanks.” Y/N slid into one of the bench seats at the table and took a sip. “At least my last day as a PA will end on a good note,” she winced.

“No one is going to fire you,” Tom insisted. “You’re a kind, cheerful person when you’re not getting hot coffee thrown at you, and you’ve got a great work ethic. Both rare things in this industry a lot of the time. You aren’t going anywhere, trust me; you still have a future.”

Y/N took another sip of her water.

“What are you hoping to do in movies? Are you another aspiring actress, or do you want something more niche like makeup, production design, directing?”

“Not sure yet. I’m still trying to see what I like the most. Reading about it and doing it are two very different things, you know.”

Tom nodded, understanding. “You have family nearby?”

Y/N shook her head. “Tennessee.”

“A country girl," he grinned. "What do they think of your career choice?”

“They’re warming up to it.”

“I was lucky, my family was always really supportive.”

“Do you get to see them very often? It seems like you always go, go, go,” Y/N laughed quietly.

“Not as much as I’d like, but… enough,” he nodded again, as if confirming he was satisfied with his own answer.

Y/N suddenly recalled Tom’s recent divorce. Even though he and his ex-wife hadn’t had any children, they had still been together several years, and Y/N was sure it must have been difficult for him. As they were on the topic of family, she made a point not to mention even indirectly anything to do with those matters.

“Well, everyone’s got to take a break once in a while. Maybe after this picture wraps you can spend some time with them.”

“Yeah,” Tom replied, his gaze momentarily drifting into the distance. “But until then, it’s nice to have some company now.”

“I’ll have another mental breakdown just for you, so we can do it again sometime,” Y/N joked, trying to make light of her humiliation. To her relief, Tom laughed in response, diffusing some of her tension. “I should probably be going. They’ll be looking for me once they run out of drinks.” Y/N rose to her feet, grabbing her water and her soiled shirt.

“Well, if you would ever like to drop by again, my door is open- literally.” He gestured to the open trailer door. “And you let me know if Bill ever bothers you again- I’ve learned a lot of fighting moves from working on this movie and I can kick his ass.”

“Okay. I would love to see that,” Y/N replied, making her way to the front of the trailer and toward Tom. “No,” her tone of voice became serious again, “You’ve already done more than I could have asked for.” In the confines of the trailer, she and he came closely face-to-face as she neared the doorway.

“Well, sometimes, all you have to do is ask.” He smiled warmly and they shared an intense moment of eye contact before Y/N shyly looked away. Tom exited the trailer ahead of her, reaching out his hand for her to take from where he stood on the ground, to guide her down the couple of stair steps. “Now, go get ‘em.”

“It’s true, you really are a relentless optimist,” Y/N smiled and shook her head. They waved each other goodbye, and then she headed back in the direction of the soundstage, feeling like she could face the rest of the day again, and maybe even the rest of the production. Even though all of her anxieties didn’t magically go away, she figured that, with Tom Cruise in her corner, she had little to worry about.

#fluff #one shot #imagine #tom cruise #tom cruise x reader #tom cruise x female reader #tom cruise imagine #tom cruise fic #tom cruise fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #creative writing #just for fun #just roll with it #self insert #x reader #reader insert #im being so vulnerable right now please be kind

153 notes · View notes