tom holland & peter parker fics

self care saturday [tom]

Saturdays were the best part of the week. You didn't have to wake up early, your schedule was free to do what you wanted, lay around in sweats until the night came and you ended up at a party or one of your favorite bars. It was really fun, well, for a while at least.

Waking up with a mild hangover wasn't friendly the next morning, your temples playing ping-pong with a headache most of the day. Your feet ached from the standing all night as well as your stomach hurting sometimes if you drank one too many. While the boys teased you about it, they didn't understand your Saturday ritual was coming to bite you back.

When the late afternoon came, the sun was just setting as the boys came downstairs dressed in their button ups and dark jeans. They went to the kitchen to take a shot before the Uber arrived, trying to offer you one, but you nodded your head and continued to watch TV.

After they exchanged a few jokes, you noticed Tom hadn't come down yet and he was usually the most eager to leave before the bars got too crowded.

"Where's Tom?" You asked the boys, but you turned your head when you heard Tom come down the stairs and he was still in the same grey sweatpants he wore the night before to bed.

"I'm staying in, I'm not feeling well." Tom said, leaning against the couch and glancing at the boys snickering to one another.

"Whatever you say," Harrison shrugged before he glanced at his phone. "The uber's here so we're gonna go."

You told the boys to be safe and to text them when they were on the way back before they shut the front door. Tom was sitting next to you, his chin rested on his fist and his elbow against the arm of the couch.

You turned your head, "So, what's the real reason you decided to stay in?"

Tom shrugged, "I'm just tired, that's all."

"Really? The guy who insists we bar hop every night?" You raised your eyebrow.

"Yes, really.. Why did you stay in?" He asked right back, smirking.

You sealed your lips, "I wanted a night in too. Didn't feel like waking up hungover and crabby."

"Eh, you don't need to be hungover to be crabby." Tom joked, a small grin on his lips.

You playfully smacked the back of his head before you got up to walk toward the kitchen. You opened the fridge, leaning in until you spotted the bottle of wine on one of the shelves of the door. After you took it out and closed the fridge, you placed it on the counter before you searched for a glass.

"Can you get me a beer, please?" Tom kindly asked, still facing the TV.

"Yes, dear." You said jokingly.

After you poured wine into your curvy glass, you held it with the stem between your fingers and your other hand held Tom's beer by the neck. As you took a small sip from your wine glass, you plopped back on the couch and handed Tom his cold beer.

"Thank you, darling." He huffed, grinning as he took the end of his shirt to twist off the cap.

You leaned your back against the arm of the couch, laying your legs across Tom's lap.

He chuckled, "You know the coffee table is right there."

"Yeah, but I like this better." You joked, taking another sip of wine.

The two of you continued to watch your Netflix show, throwing a blanket over both of laps to keep cozy. You and Tom made your sly comments, enjoying your time together and feeling relaxed instead of the stress of being a crowd and barely feeling your feet. The only thing that hurt was your stomach flexing from laughing, adding the wine gave you a little tipsy.