Price of A Wish (Peter Parker/ Tom Holland x Reader)

Not Good, But Not Bad

I slowly open my eyes and yawn. Yeah, I'm still in bed with Peter, but he's on his phone instead of sleeping. 

"You're awake," he says. 

"No dip, Sherlock," I murmur. "What time is it?"

"Five-thirty," he answers. "Look, about last night..."

"I'm really sorry," I interrupt. "I didn't mean to wake you. I should've just stayed in my own bed."

"No, no, no. It's not that," he assures. "In your sleep, when you were with me, you kept mumbling about a bad guy. A purple bad guy. Who was it?"

"Oh, Thanos," I reply. 

"Is he real?" he asks.

"In this world, he is," I answer. "He's like, the main bad guy for a little while. He's really dangerous, Peter. You need to stay away from him."

"No promises," he chuckles. "I'm a superhero, it's what I do."

"I'm being serious," I say, getting off of him. [That sounds a lot more adult than I meant... Sorry]

"Hello Being Serious, I'm Peter," he jokes. I glare at him. 

"Cut it out," I say. "This isn't just a joke."

"I'll be fine, {Y/N}," he beams. 

"But what if you aren't?" I snap. "What if you go be a superhero and die? What do you think that'll do to me? I can't deal with that Peter! I... Ugh, nevermind." I storm out of his room, grabbing my bag on the way out. 

When I walk into the dining room, May and Jami are already sitting there eating pancakes. I mumble a small 'Morning' and sit down.

"What was all that about?" May asks, setting a plate in front of me.

"It was nothing," I lie. "Everything's fine." I begin to eat when Peter walks in with his unruly curls dancing around his face. It's hard to be mad at him when he's so damn adorable. He sits down next to me and helps himself to some pancakes. 

"How'd you two sleep?" May asks, trying to stay cheery.

"{Y/N} had a nightmare in the middle of the night," Peter answers. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. What was it about?" May asks. I glance at Peter, but then down at my food.

"It was one of those dreams where I keep falling," I lie again. "I'm fine though."

"I get those all the time, sweetie. It's okay," she comforts. 

We all finish eating and wait for Peter to find his bag. Once he does, we all head out of the apartment and down the stairs. Jami nudges my arm.

"What was the nightmare really about?" she asks. Godammit. She can always tell when I'm lying.

"Oh, you know. Just some foreshadowing about Thanos," I chuckle. "The norm."

"That's a normal thing for you?" she jokingly asks. I give her a small laugh but look down at my feet. 

Peter leans over, his hot breath tingling against my ear. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'll stay away from him."

"Promise?" I whisper back.

"I promise," he agrees. 

I link my arm with his and keep walking. And I totally "don't" notice when Jami stops as we keep walking and takes a picture of the two of us. The cold morning breeze hits my face as we step outside. Happy pulls up right on cue and we jump in, more than happy to escape the cold. As per usual, Happy doesn't say anything to us and we conversate amongst ourselves.

We stop in front of the tower and get out. Peter waits in the lobby while Jami and I go up to get dressed. I pull on royal blue jeans, a white blazer, and a black leather jacket. I have a white beanie, the ladybug necklace, and a light dusting of makeup. Yes, I slept with the necklace on, but only because I didn't have the case with me. 

I ride the elevator back down to the lobby. Once I step out, Peter and Jami are already waiting for me. 

"Took ya long enough," Jami teases.

"Sorry, but looking this good takes work," I dramatically flip my hair and laugh. "Maybe you should try it." She fakes being offended by placing her hand on her chest and dropping her jaw.

"{Y/N}!" she gasps. "How could you?"

"I am my mother's daughter," I say, using it as an excuse. I actually get my sass from my father though. My mother is much more polite. I guess I never got that part of her.

"Guys? We need to go if we don't want to be late," Peter interrupts.

"God, I hate when you're right," I mutter. He laughs and we all start walking toward the car. Out of every sleepover I've ever had, that wasn't the worst. Not the best, obviously. But not the worst.