Chapter Text
“Oh, shit!”
The curse ripped through the quiet night as a man with chestnut-brown curls sprinted down the empty alleyway, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Behind him, footsteps echoed against the wet pavement.
He didn’t dare look back again.
His lungs burned as he turned sharply around a corner, nearly slipping before crashing against a brick wall. Breathing hard, he ducked behind it and lowered himself to the ground, trying to stay quiet.
For a moment, the alley fell silent.
Then, he slowly peeked around the corner.
Nothing.
The man exhaled shakily, pressing a hand against his chest. “Jesus…” he muttered under his breath.
Then-
A hand shot out from the darkness and grabbed him by the collar.
“AH-!”
He was slammed hard against the wall as another figure emerged behind him, face hidden beneath a dark hood. Moonlight glinted against the sharp blade in the stranger’s hand.
The man thrashed violently, panic flooding his face as the knife lifted toward his throat.
“Wait, wait-!”
The blade came down, and then-
“CUT!”
The alley instantly exploded with noise.
“THAT WAS PERFECT!”
Bright floodlights snapped on from every direction. Crew members poured into the alley while cameras lowered and someone nearby burst into applause.
The hooded figure stepped back laughing, pulling off the mask. “Dude, you should’ve seen your face.”
The curly-haired man bent over, breathing hard before glaring at him. “That was good.” The panting man grinned wider as makeup artists rushed onto the set.
The set slowly began to settle as crew members packed equipment away and actors disappeared into trailers. The loud energy from earlier faded into tired chatter and the clatter of metal stands being folded up.
Tom Holland wiped the fake sweat from his forehead while a makeup artist dabbed at the smudged blood near his neck.
“You seriously looked terrified back there,” the hooded actor laughed again.
Tom rolled his eyes. “Because you almost killed me.”
“Worth it.”
A few nearby crew members snorted in amusement.
After changing out of his costume jacket, Tom stepped away from the crowded set, stuffing his hands into his pockets. The cold night air hit him instantly.
The city was quieter now.
He figured a short walk would help clear his head before heading back to the hotel. Filming had dragged on for hours, and the constant lights and noise were starting to give him a headache.
So he walked past dim streetlights, empty sidewalks and alleys drowned in shadows.
His footsteps echoed softly against the pavement as he exhaled into the cold air.
Then-
Another footstep echoed behind him.
Tom slowed.
The sound stopped too.
He frowned slightly before glancing over his shoulder. Nobody. Only darkness stretched behind him. “Okay…” he muttered under his breath, forcing out a small laugh.
Probably a crew member. Probably.
He kept walking, but the uneasy feeling didn’t leave. It crawled slowly up his spine instead like someone was watching him.
Tom shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and turned down another alley, narrower this time. The walls were damp with rainwater, and the flickering light above buzzed faintly overhead.
Then he heard footsteps again. But they were closer.
His heart skipped. He turned sharply and saw nothing.
Tom barely had time to react before something slammed into him from the side hard enough to knock the air straight out of his lungs.
His back hit the wet pavement with a painful crack that sent panic exploding through his chest in an instant. A gloved hand clamped violently over his mouth while the hooded figure forced him down, the alley spinning around him beneath the flickering streetlight as adrenaline crashed through every nerve in his body.
“Don’t-!” Tom’s voice came out broken and muffled against the stranger’s hand as he struggled desperately, fingers clawing against the soaked fabric of the man’s hoodie while his heartbeat pounded so loud.
The stranger didn’t budge.
Tom tried to twist away, tried to kick, tried to shove him off, but exhaustion from filming mixed horribly with raw fear, and every movement only seemed to make the grip on him tighter.
“Please,” Tom choked out the second the pressure against his mouth loosened even slightly. “Please, stop- Please just- just take whatever you want-”
The silence of the man on top of him terrified him more than shouting would have.
Rainwater soaked through the back of Tom’s shirt while his breathing became uneven and sharp, panic clouding his thoughts so badly he could barely process what was happening anymore except the feeling of being trapped beneath someone in an alley too empty and too dark for anybody to hear him.
Then the hooded man leaned closer, and Tom froze. All the sounds around him seemed to disappear completely.
The city. The traffic. Even his own breathing. Everything faded beneath the crushing realization that this wasn’t a robbery.
“Please…” Tom whispered again, weaker this time, his voice trembling so badly he barely recognized it himself.
The stranger pinned him to the ground harder and started to lean in.
Tom did his best to shove him off, but he felt weak.
The man started kissing him and licking his neck and leaving bites onto it.
Tom had never felt so hopeless.
The man started rubbing Tom’s groin which made Tom let out a shiver by the contact.
He then tried to get his hand off of the man but the man didn’t budge. He felt so strong against Tom’s exhausted body.
Somewhere above them, the flickering light finally went out.
~
Tom didn’t remember how long he stayed there—probably 10, 20 minutes, he really doesn’t know. He just lay there like a dead person, eyes focused at the dark sky.
He didn’t know what to do.
His throat was parched. His voice barely came out.
It hurt.
Everything in his body hurt.
The moonlight crept across the horizon, turning the streets pale gray by the time Tom stumbled back toward the hotel.
His hands shook violently inside his pockets, his chest still tight with panic every time footsteps echoed somewhere nearby.
He was glad nobody recognized him with his hood on. Although people passed him on the sidewalk without a second glance, he still felt like everybody could see something was wrong just by looking at him.
When he finally reached the hotel elevator, he caught his reflection in the mirrored wall and almost didn’t recognize himself.
His curls were damp from rain, his lip had split slightly near the corner, and his expression looked hollow in a way makeup could never fake for a movie scene.
Then a second later, Tom realized he had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to tell his girlfriend, Zendaya.
Would she hate him? Would she dump him? Would she be mad at him? Are they over?
Tom had a million negative questions running inside his mind, and he didn’t have a single answer for it.
Who the fuck was that guy?