Imagine If You Assembled the Avengers: Volume 1

Ice Capades (Pietro Maximoff x reader)

"Hey, frosty. Whatcha doin?"

"Hey, tin man. Just grabbing a snack for movie night. You're staying, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Tony nodded and grabbed a handful of chips from the bowl you had balanced in your arms, "and it's a gold titanium alloy, thank you very much."

"Still a clunky metal suit," you mumbled, making your way to the living room to join the group. "Alright, what's on the lineup for tonight?" Setting your snack offering on the table at the center of the room, you looked around and noticed that Pietro was nowhere to be found. "Where's speedy?"

"Not gonna make it tonight," Clint said, throwing a handful of popcorn in his mouth, "he faid he waf forry."

"Ugh, I asked for the news, not the weather, Barton," you grumbled, wiping the popcorn pieces from your shirt. "How many times..."

"Forry."

With a loud sigh, you grabbed your own snack and sat back on the couch, curled up in a blanket and ready to relax. Tony turned down the lights and turned on the movie, sitting next to you so you could lean against him when you started to fall asleep like you usually did about an hour in. You were just about to reach into your bowl when the silver flash passed by and it was gone.

"Someone's in a playful mood," Tony snickered, handing you his bowl to replace yours.

"Someone has a death wish," you mumbled back.

~~~

With the breath knocked out of your chest it was really hard to argue with Steve. He rushed over to you when you didn't stand up from the practice mat and looked down at you with a frantic and worried expression until you finally sucked in a harsh breath and grimaced at the pain of your lungs expanding.

"Rude...Rogers," you gasped, reaching up to take his hand and standing slowly. "That was...underhanded...even for you."

"You okay?"

You leaned down to rest your hands on your thighs and tried to pull in another deep breath, doing your best to relax the muscles that were still tightly squeezing you. "Give me a minute," you groaned, raising your hand to decline his offer to walk you to the bench. You stood fully and stretched back, cautiously feeling like you could breathe easier with the pain beginning to subside.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N). I thought you could take that hit. Maybe we should call it a day." Steve walked over to his bag and began to unwrap his hands. He would look at you every few seconds just to be sure that you were still upright and breathing, worried that he may have actually injured you. "So, I've been meaning to ask you, what's up with you and Maximoff?"

"Besides the fact that he's annoying to no end? Nothing at all."

"Hmm, okay."

"What? What does that mean?" You stepped next to him and grabbed the wrap hanging down from is hand, pulling it sharply towards you to get his full attention. "Do you know something that I don't?"

Steve looked at his hand, then to you with a smirk, "No, nothing. Just thought that maybe I saw something there. I could be wrong."

"You're wrong." You wrapped the cloth around your hand and pulled him off balance, spinning to land a kick to the center of his chest. You released his hand as he flew back and hit the floor with a loud thud. He looked up at you with surprise and a small cough as he caught his breath, but you could only shake your head in return. "I'm sorry, Cap. I thought you could take that hit."

~~~

When Pietro took your food on movie night, you let it go. When he woke you up three hours early with all of your lights 'mysteriously' coming on at the same time, you began to get annoyed. But when he took your phone and changed every ringtone to songs about running, and all of your shortcuts to his name, you decided it was enough. He was picking on you like a little kid with a crush on the playground, and he needed to be put in a time out.

He seemed to find his best time to trick you while you were in the kitchen, so that's where you decided to set up your trap. You needed something that was sure to draw his attention, so you began to pull out everything you would need to make his favorite cookies. It was like catching a hyperactive child.

"Hey, frosty. Whatcha doin?"

"Not now, Tony. I'm hatching a plan."

Tony peeked around you to see what you were doing, and you swore you heard him stomp his foot. "You're making cookies! I want in on that!"

"Oh my god, you really are all overgrown kids, aren't you?" you said with a laugh. Turning to grab his shoulders, you directed him from the room and gave him a small pat on the back. "Tell you what, you stay out of here for the next hour, and keep everyone else away, and I'll make whatever kind your tiny, immature little heart desires, okay?"

"Yes!" he whispered, practically running out to the living room to wait. You could hear him yell each time another member of the team approached, and all you could do was giggle at his determination to win.

Once you had the first batch of cookies ready to remove from the oven, you turned and created a thin layer of ice over the floor, just enough to slip up even the light-footed Maximoff and catch him in the act once and for all. With a satisfied nod, you pulled the pan out and waited. It wasn't even thirty seconds.

"Woah, woah, woah!" he yelled as he slipped and slid across the floor, just as you had planned. He came to a stop at your feet and looked up with surprise and guilt all over his face. He tried to push himself back up, but he fell again, realizing he was stuck there and remembering that you were the only one capable of walking across the ice that you create. You knelt down next to him and lifted his chin, smiling victoriously.

"I'm sorry. Did I step on your moment?"