The first time you had heard the phrase "I don't wike it" was when Steve had bit his tongue on take off.

And then when he went over the mission report. And when he stubbed his toe. And when he had to do the laundry. And so on.

It's started to stick, and you find yourself muttering "I don't wike it" at least ten times each day.

"I don't wike it," Natasha grumbles, and your head shoots up. "This is a crap tablet."

"Hold on," You stop Natasha from leaving by blocking the exit. "What did you just say?"

Her eyes narrow. "This is a crap tablet?"

"No, before that."

"I don't wike it..?"

You snap and point at her. "Yes! Haven't you noticed everyone saying it?"

She shrugs. "I mean, I do hear Clint saying that a few times. Each hour. And Sam, too. Wanda as well. And you. Why?"

"Oh, no reason," You wave a hand and hurry off to find Steve.

When you do, he's leaning over his iPhone and tapping it helplessly. "I don't-"

"Do not," You say loudly, and he jumps out of his chair. "Say 'I don't wike it'."

He frowns. "But I don't-"

"No."

"I-"

"Don't you dare."

"I don't-"

"Steve Grant Rogers if you-"

"I don't wike it," He grins when you stomp your foot. And then the smile falls off his face as you charge forward. "Uh oh. I don't wike this."