Avengers Imagines (Part One)

Peter Parker X Reader - Anything You Can Do

A/N - This chapter is based on the song 'Anything You Can Do' from the musical 'Annie Get Your Gun.' I hope you all enjoy it.

Being an Avenger really brought out the competitive side in you. It was probably a bad thing, to be honest, competing to be the most capable superhero. But you couldn't help but get a little over-excited about becoming the best, especially where Spider-boy came in to it.

Peter was incredible. You had known it from the moment you had met him, and in said moment, you had decided that you would have to make sure that you were better than he was. After all, you were the same age, and you both had to suffer through the kiddie gloves that the others would use with you. Your aim, in winning the secret competition, would be to make yourself so good at saving the world that you would stop being the kid, leaving Peter stuck with the nickname on his own.

It had started with little stuff. Turning in paperwork first, and keeping your suit in pristine condition. And then you'd started to get carried away, vying for a better seat on the way to a mission and sucking up to Steve in a way that could only be described as over-zealous. Peter had caught on to you pretty quickly, and without telling you, had begun to put up a fight. 

One morning, you had strolled onto the jet, ready to take your usual spot beside Steve, only to find him already sitting there, laughing along with some stupid joke.

"What are you doing?" you'd uttered, smile falling from your lips as you stared at him in disbelief.

"Oh, Captain Rogers and I were just talking about growing up in New York. I never knew how much it had changed." 

You wanted to bite his head off and force him from your spot, but the smile on Steve's lips told you that it wouldn't be the right move. You forced a smile and nodded. "Bet it was way cooler than growing up in Y/H/T (Your Home Town)," you started, wedging yourself into the seat next to Peter and grinning across him at Steve. 

It went on like that for weeks; one upping each other until you were both going half mad. Not that the rest of the team minded. Quite often your competitive nature would benefit them in some way, and they found the looks you threw at one another to be quite entertaining. 

At some point, however, the novelty had worn of for you. You had begun to tear yourself apart in an attempt to be the best you could possibly be, and every time Peter would win it would drive you insane. 

In training, one afternoon, he had pinned you to the mat so effortlessly that it had startled you both. You had just stayed laying there like that, staring up at him in disbelief as he smirked down at you. 

"Come on, at least try," he chuckled, shifting backwards to get to his feet as your cheeks tinted red. 

"If I actually tried you'd probably end up in the emergency room," you spat back, watching as he raised his eyebrows at you.

He chuckled as you got back to your feet, glaring in his direction. "That's strong fighting talk for a girl who can't stay on her feet for more than a minute."

You wanted to snarl. You wanted to scream, and yell, and cause a fuss, but instead, you dropped back into a fighting stance and gestured for him to come after you. 

Pete had you on the floor again a couple of seconds later, swiping your legs out from under you and leaving you sprawled on your back. The laughter escaping him caused your chest to tighten, and you could feel the heat spreading up your neck, leaving your skin red and blotchy. "You aren't having a good day, are you?" he chortled, shaking his head as he reached out to help you onto your feet.

You slapped his hand away, glaring up at him as you stood on your own. "Fuck you, Parker," you spat out, rolling your shoulders as you stalked over to the bench that held your water bottle.

"Everyone has bad days," he called out, drawing your glare back to him, which made him fall silent without a moments hesitation.

"Leave me alone."

Peter's brow pulled together, confusion and concern clear on his features as he watched you. "What'd I do?" You remained silent, taking a deep gulp from your drink. "What? You can tear me to shreds when I'm not good at something, but you can't handle it when I do the same?"

"Don't push me," you snarled, leaving him absolutely stunned as he stared in your direction.

"Come on, Y/N. It's a stupid competition. It's not like it means anything."

You scoffed at him, shaking your head. "You don't get it, do you?" You paused for a moment, attempting to calm yourself as you stared in his direction. "I can't stand the way they act like I'm some dumb kid who doesn't know her ass from her elbow."

"And you think I like it?" Suddenly the anger was gone from you entirely. "You think I like Mr Stark trying to get me taken off of every single mission we go on, because it might be a little too dangerous?" 

"Well no-"

"I hate having to compete with you, because we should be friends. You're the only one here that gets what I mean when I say that I don't like being the 'kid'."

You paused, letting your eyes fixate on the floor beneath you. "I'm sorry Pete. I didn't think it'd get this serious," you murmured.

"Can we call it quits?" he asked, shifting forward so that his feet were just in your line of vision. "Start being friends?"

"Take down the old timers?" you added, listening to the laugh that burst from him as you lifted your head to look at him.

Pete nodded. "They wouldn't stand a chance if we worked as a team."

You held out your hand, gripping his tightly and giving it a quick shake. "They won't know what's hit 'em."

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