Avengers X Reader

Peter Parker {1} {Proposal Series}

Sixteen Years Old

"Peter! Stop cheating!"

"I'm not cheating, you're just really bad at checkers."

"I am the queen of checkers, I'll have you know."

Peter rolled his eyes, but when Y/N turned to grab her drink he smiled softly.

"Alright, kids, play nicely or I'll sit you in separate corners." May wagged a finger, laughing. "I've got to go to the store, will you be alright here?"

"We're sixteen, Aunt May, I think we can handle ourselves for a little while."

"I meant, can you not kill each other while I'm out? I don't want to have to clean my nephew's blood off the walls."

"I wouldn't leave a mess for you to clean, May." You looked over at Peter and winked. "It'd be something like poison. Made to look like an extreme allergic reaction or something. No muss, no fuss."

"Why am I the one getting killed in this scenario? Should I be worried?"

"Bye, kids." May waved over her shoulder, grabbing her jacket and purse from the hook behind the door before walking out the door. She stopped once the door was closed, putting her jacket on, listening to the teenagers' muffled arguments.

"Okay, there's no way that move was legit!" Peter's voice squeaked a little on the last word.

"It totally was! Don't be mad just because I have the upper hand now!"

"I'm not! You just don't know how to play."

"You know, air injected into the blood stream via syringe is a nearly undetectable way to kill someone?"

"Why do you know that!?"

She shook her head, smile on her face, as she walked towards the elevator. "Those two are going to take forever to realize it."

Nineteen Years Old

You and Peter were relaxing in your dorm room. You were lucky enough to not have a roommate, so the spare bed always had linens on it for when Peter needed to crash - his roommate had a lot of dates go well. It was nearing three in the morning and neither of you were even close to be sleepy. You had been on your respective beds, but he had decided he wanted to cuddle, and managed to squeeze himself onto your twin mattress with you, arms locked around your waist, head resting on your stomach.

"What do you think we'll be like when we're old?" You played with his hair.

"Define old."

"Eighty."

"Wrinkly."

"Peter! I'm serious." You laughed, smacking his head gently. "Do you think we'll still be in the city? Still be friends? What if we're in the same nursing home?"

"If we're in the same nursing home, then I feel bad for those nurses. Putting up with one of us is bad enough. They don't deserve us both."

"True." You let the silence surround you for a moment before you spoke up again. "Do you ever wonder if you'll be alone? In the end? When you're old and just want someone to remember you?"

"Sometimes, but I figure if nothing else, I can always bother you."

"I'll always be here for you to annoy."