Armageddon || an avengersxreader fanfiction

chapter fifteen

February, 2018 (Valentine's Day)

"Happy Valentine's Day." Peter enters the kitchen and hands you a small cactus and a heart-shaped box of chocolate.
"Thank you. I have something for you too." After an awkward, one-armed hug, you hand him two tickets for the New Jersey Science Convention. "Want some lunch? I have spaghetti on the stove."
"Sure."
"Okay. It'll be ready in a moment. Until then, I think we should eat this whole box of chocolates." You raise an eyebrow as you hold up the heart-shaped box.

On the counter between you and Peter sets a large plate of spaghetti and a half-eaten box of valentines chocolate. You both begin to fork your lunch into your mouths. As you eat, you remember how Lady and the Tramp ended up kissing. When you realize what Peter probably thought you meant, you quickly slurp the noodle hanging out of your mouth. This causes a splash of sauce to hit the middle of your nose. For some reason, this causes Peter to laugh so hard that he almost spits out his spaghetti.

"I can lick it off for you," He jokingly offers as he regains his composure.
"Haha. That's funny." You remove the sauce with your finger and wipe it on his nose. He retaliates with a streak of sauce across your forehead, which leaves a red stain after you remove the sauce.
"Okay. Let's not make a mess," You speak calmly before flinging a couple of noodles at Peter. He does the same, and you both begin to travel around the kitchen, throwing food at each other.
"You know, this isn't usually how a date goes." You and Peter freeze as Tony enters. "Carry on," Tony speaks once he is out of range of flying noodles. Though you have permission to continue the food fight, you and Peter begin to pick up after yourselves instead.

You and Peter have played a few games of foosball, which you won the majority of, and went to the basement ice skating rink. Afterwards, you head out to take a walk.
"Peter, I don't need a jacket."
"Are you sure? It's kinda chilly out there."
"Yes. For the last time, I am captain America's child. I don't need a jacket."
"Okay," He throws up his hands in surrender as he adds a sweatshirt over his jacket.

You rub your hand gently over your arm as a breeze sends chills up and down your arms. You notice Peter glancing at your purple-tinted arm with a smirk.
"What's that look for?"
"You know I hate to say I told you so, but..." he trails off with annoying sarcasm in his voice.
"Whatever. For your information, I enjoy freezing."
"Mhmm." Peter then surprises you by removing his Midtown High sweatshirt and placing it in your hands.
"Thanks," You speak as you slip into the sweatshirt, which you only accepted because it smells like Peter's familiar scent of laundry detergent and cologne.
"You know, your ego might be the size of Mr. Stark's company."
"Wow, thanks." You roll your eyes a bit too dramatically, so you decide to remedy it with a smile.