Imagine If You Assembled The Avengers: Volume 2

Tweet, Tweet (Rogers/Wilson x reader)

Dinner time at the Avengers compound was never quiet; with the common sounds of arguing over who would get the last of any particular item and the occasional food fight when the argument was lost, the idea that this group would ever share a peaceful meal was all but dead; or so you thought. Stopping at the dining room door to gather your determination to face another very late evening of shielding yourself from flying mashed potatoes, you took a long breath and pushed the door open, only to stop in complete shock at the lack of any kind of flying food item at all.

"Okay, something's weird," you muttered, looking around the table. Your eyes shifted from one Avenger to another, until the moment of clarity came and you realized that every argument, every food fight, and every raised voice in the name of hunger had all been started by the same two troublemakers; you were ashamed that you hadn't noticed the pattern sooner. "Nat," you called out to her quietly, "what are they doing?"

"Sam taught Steve how to use Twitter and they've been on it all day. It's the first time I haven't had a headache in weeks, (Y/N)."

"Yeah," Tony chimed in, "but I can't get these two to do any work around here, either."

"Really? What have they been tweeting?" you asked, your curiosity now piqued. You took the few steps across the room to stand behind the pair, leaning over Steve's shoulder to watch for yourself. "Woah, hold on," you warned, "who are you sending that too?" You reached over him quickly and snapped the phone from his hands before he could stop you, taking off with it and running into the living room with him giving fast chase. You tried squealing and begging for mercy as he caught up, but you knew better, feeling the air knocked from you when he tackled you and slammed you onto one of the large couches at the room's center.

"Hand it over, doll," he warned, digging his fingers into your rib cage as he held you in place with his weight, "or this only gets worse."

"No! No, Steve...stop!" you gasped between laughs, but you wouldn't give up your catch no matter how hard it was to keep your grip, slapping at him with your one free hand to no use.

"Sam, grab her hands!"

"No! Sam, don't you...dare..."

Wilson readily ran across the room to join his partner in crime, grabbing your hand easily, but finding it more difficult to secure the one that held the phone, stopping abruptly when you shoved it under your butt so he couldn't reach. "Okay, Cap, that's all you. I sure as hell don't need both of you punching me today."

"Come on, (Y/N), give me the phone...." Steve goaded, stopping the barrage of tickles and looking at you with a mischievous grin, "or I promised you it would get worse."

You pulled the phone up quickly and tried to look at who he was so enthralled in tweeting all day, and just before his hand wrapped around the device to take it away, you saw the familiar profile picture that you should've known would be his target.

"Evans?"

"Duh, he's the only friend Steve has on the outside," Tony scoffed, dropping himself lazily onto the couch next to yours, a plateful of food in hand. "They're doing that mean tweet thing in a few days and these two yahoos are trying to get theirs chosen to read on TV."

"These two?" you asked cautiously. "Sam, you're helping him?"

"No way! I've got my own mission," he sneered in reply, digging into his pocket to grab his own phone and turning it towards you to see another familiar profile, "I'm taking down Mackie."

"Of course you are." Once Steve allowed you freedom, you pushed yourself up with a groan and a stretch to ease the sore muscles from laughing so hard, turning to Tony expectantly, "and I suppose you're challenging Downey?"

"Nope. We're far too mature to engage in some little Twitter war for attention."

The three of you stopped, completely silent, looking at Tony with mouths wide in surprise until you finally broke the moment with a laugh that built to fill the room with the Sam and Steve joining in. "Give me a break!" you choked out between gaps. "You two attention whores are the worst of all of 'em! You both have the same description in your bio!"

"Well, you do know who we are. No lie there."

~~~

The following week, each day now just as silent in the building as the next, it came time for the Jimmy Kimmel episode that Steve and Sam had been waiting so impatiently for. They were so certain that one of their tweets would be chosen for Chris and Anthony that they invited the whole team to watch, filling the living room table with beer and pizza to celebrate a win they didn't even know if they'd achieved yet.

"Okay, shhh," Steve scolded, draping an arm over your shoulder and pulling you in closer, "here it comes." When Chris' face lit up the large TV screen at the front of the room, Steve's grip only got stronger and you could hear the quiet but evil chuckle escape his throat as he watched his friend read from his phone in a laugh that made it clear that he knew who had sent it.

"Chris Evans is a stupid bearded sweater wearing dumb dork."

"Really?" you asked with a raised brow, though smiling at his continued enthusiasm. "That was it?"

"What? I couldn't be that mean," Steve whined, waving his hand in frustration at the screen, "I like the kid, alright? But hey, they still picked one of mine!"

"Ooh, score!" Clint snickered. "I bet he's at home crying into a designer tissue right now."

"Hey, shut up," Sam interrupted, pointing at the screen, "here he is!"

"Anthony Mackie is probably just angry that he looks like a f**cking aardvark."

Everyone sat in stunned silence, turning to look at a very pleased and almost giddy Sam, clapping his hands together in the excitement of his televised victory and the look of disgust on Mackie's face; it was as if Anthony was looking directly at him through the screen.

"What? He does!"

"Uh, Sam," you coughed quietly, "you guys look almost identical."

"Do not."

"Yeah, you really do," the group chimed in, nodding to each other in agreement.

"Like looking at twins."

"Same goddamn attitude, too."

"Couple of aardvarks."

Sam shook his head in disgust, waving at the group in dismissal before turning to leave, "couple of sexy as hell aardvarks..." he muttered under his breath, stopping when his gaze met yours to realize that you had heard him. Before you could interject with a witty retort, he held up a finger, pointed sharply your way, "not a word, (Y/N). If Sexy Seabass can work it, we're gonna crush it, just you watch. We're gonna make aardvarks...sexy...again..." he trailed off, looking just as confused as everyone around him as he simply turned away and left without another word.

"I'm definitely tweeting this," Steve said brightly, practically shoving you off the couch in the hurry to reach his phone with a glance to Tony, "and Stark, you're on uniform modifications. You with me?"

Tony tossed his plate aside eagerly with a loud bang that resonated through the room, all but bouncing his way to the lab. You weren't sure if he was more excited to be a part of Steve's mischief for a change, or if he had the perfect blueprints in mind for Sam, but either way, it was a welcome sight to see the two working together so happily.

"I'm with ya, Cap! One sexy aardvark, coming up!"