Hi friends! Welcome to my first ever writing challenge!! Yay! I’m so excited! I was originally going to wait to get more people’s opinion about this. But I realized that I love this idea, so screw it. I’m going to get this thing started! This challenge is going to be filled with dialogue prompts from the movie Leap Year. If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend you do. Just because it’s a really good movie! In fact, I’ll probably watch it again cause it’s been a while since I’ve seen it. Anyway! Enough with this boring talk, let move onto the rules. Which is actually just more boring talk, haha
Rules
You don’t have to be following me to participate, but it would be nice if you did. I really enjoy making new friends:)
It would be real nice if ya gave this a signal boost. Just to let more friends know about this!
This is open for all Marvel characters! Marvel is the main one I read and write for. BUT, if you would like to write for another fandom feel free to do so. Just let me know!
Send me your prompt and pairing in an ask! It’ll be much easier for me to keep track of things that way. In case anything happens! You know how Tumblr can be…
Please use the “keep reading” insert on anything over 500 words.
No word minimum or maximum. Write to your hearts content! There’s no one stopping you:)
It would be fantastic if you use proper tags and warnings! Thank you!
No rape/incest. Please and thank you
In fact, let’s keep this family friendly all together, no dark fics or smut -I’m still a baby so I wouldn’t even be able to read smut if you wrote it. And it would make me sad to miss out on your amazing writing-
Don’t be a creep and leave pairings with minors, ones like tony/peter, in your drafts and far away from here.
You can do reader inserts, but if you would rather do an oc or keep it at just marvel characters. Than that’s awesome too!
AU’s are allowed, I’m a sucker for any and every type of AU. So go off!
Fic due date: February 29th, 2020. But if you need more time DM me or send me an ask! Just so I’m aware:)
Tag me in the fic when you post so I don’t miss it. Oh. And make sure to use the hashtag #raesleapyearchallenge in the first 5 tags.
Once a prompt is gone, it’s gone! If I run out I’ll add more!
For now lets leave it at one prompt per person. Just so everyone has a chance to grab one!
I think that’s it for now, if you have any questions or feel that I left anything out, feel free to send them via DM or my askbox
Prompts are below the cut!
“Just t'row it in the wash, it’ll be grand.”
“May you never steal, lie, or cheat, but if you must steal, then steal away my sorrows, and if you must lie, lie with me all the nights of my life, and if you must cheat, then please cheat death because I couldn’t live a day without you.” @tenderlybarnes w/Sam Wilson
“Heads I win, tails you lose.” @itsbuckysworld w/Bucky Barnes
“What are you, the Lucky Charms leprecaun?” @theforceisgay w/Loki x Reader
“When my 60 seconds came around I realized I had everything I ever wanted, but nothing I really needed. And I think what I need is here. And I came all this way to see if you maybe think so too” @xbuchananbarnes
“What are you doing here?” // “Could you be nice for just a second? I just flew 3,000 miles just to get here!” @littledarlinwrites
“Why don’t you stop trying to control everything in the known universe. Have a little faith it will all work out.” @bucksbullets
“I’m wondering, where is it you think chickens come from?” // “The freezer section.” @stareyedplanet w/Loki
“I propose we not make plans, I propose we give this thing a chance and let it work out how it works out. So what do you say, do you wanna make plans with me?”
“Dublin is a city of chances and cheats and back stabbing snakes. It is a city where the worst of humanity collects the poison of their country.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” // “Listen, Bob. You’re not in America now, you’re in Ireland. So have a drink and shut up.”
“Can we get a cab?” // “You have legs, haven’t you?” // “My best feature, so I’m told.” // “Who told you that?” @marvelfulxbabes w/Bucky Barnes
“What about my suitcase?” // “Don’t worry about Louie, I’ll get it!”
“Which one of you Bollocks thinks my chicken is dry? You? You?” @crushedbyhyperbole w/ Bucky Barnes
“Where are you going?” // “You said no.” // “I didn’t say no, I didn’t say anything.” // “You walked away.” // “I was getting something.” // “Really? That was a good time to go get something?” “Yeah, it actually was.” @thatfanficstuff w/Thor
Summary: Cooped up in the compound while the team conference with Secretary ‘Toss-pot’ Ross, you decide to cook and decorate. What better way to fill the team’s hearts and bellies than a Marrakech-themed evening with Bucky’s favourite food - Moroccan tagine. He’s got other ideas for the perfect dessert though.
Words: 1.7k
A/N: Written for @buckybarnesbeans leap year challenge filling the dialog prompt: “Which one of you Bollocks thinks my chicken is dry? You? You?” (In bold). This is a Bucky/Reader fic using my Suncatcher reader character... yes the one whose power is rainbows XD Thank you @sassy-pelican for giving this a read to check for fuck-ups <3
Warnings: Bad language. Tiny bit of light smut / non-graphic smut. Light on reader insecurities towards the end.
The living areas of the compound were quiet and hollow; the whole team was gone and you were left alone. It felt eerie. Like the rest of the world had vanished and you were the sole inhabitant of a world once teeming with life. You shivered at the thought of such endless solitude.
There were remnants of their existence, of course. The alluring yet comforting smell of Bucky’s soap in your bathroom this morning, a half-drank mug of coffee on the common room table, a messily folded newspaper with a half-completed crossword puzzle, and an open packet of Tony’s favourite trail mix hidden in the magazine rack. It wasn’t like they had been snapped out of existence or anything, they were all at a conference with Secretary Ross.
Dickhead, you thought.
Ever since that mission in London where you picked up some amusing English insults that you later took pleasure in using on Secretary Ross, your absence at debriefings and conferences involving him had been, let’s say, strongly advised. Needless to say, Secretary Ross didn’t appreciate you calling him a wanker and telling him that he talked a load of bollocks.
It had been a fun mission though. The team had been brought in to help MI5 foil a plot to steal the crown jewels and reunite the nine pieces of the famous Cullinan diamond, which occult conspiracy theorists say was a stone of great power. Cullinan I, in particular, was an exquisite stone. Housed in the majestic sceptre with the cross, it had piqued your interest purely for its unusual refractive index; there was something about that stone, you could feel it with your powers as you pushed your influence through the security case to interact with the stone.
Goosebumps broke out across your skin and you shook yourself free of the memory. The eeriness of the compound seemed to have increased since invoking the feeling of the power of the stone but you cast it aside as best you could, latching on to the annoyance you felt that Secretary Ross was robbing you of a lazy morning in bed with Bucky. Tosser!
Boredom made your bones itch. You needed to do something other than going back to your room to masturbate until everyone came back, so you decided to cook dinner. Moroccan chicken tagine. It was one of Bucky’s favourite meals, and since everyone was suffering the presence of Secretary Toss-pot, you figured they deserved a reward.
Delicious smells of savoury meat, fragrant spices and sweet apricots filled the kitchen as the team emerged from the elevator. You were finishing up by adding a handful of chopped coriander leaves to the tagine, humming a tune while you worked, when strong arms snaked around your waist and a beardy kiss pressed against your temple. You’d know the feel and smell of Bucky anywhere.
“Hey, baby!” You smiled and pressed back against him. “How is Secretary Tosser?”
“You didn’t miss anything good.” He chuckled in your ear, smooching down your neck only to pinch your skin between his teeth playfully. You adored that you were both still very much in love after years of being together. “He finally fired that P.A. who wrote that you called him a wanker into the meeting transcript that time.”
“No!” You gasped. That woman was a legend in her own right. “That’s fucking terrible -oooo! I hate that man!”
“Relax, Rainbow Brite,” Tony appeared beside you, “I hired her this afternoon so she’ll take notes for all of our meetings with Ross when he’s here.” He beamed, lifting the lid of your tagine and groaning with pleasure as the steam rose. “That smells amazing.”
“Thanks boss.” You grinned, feeling the fuzzy warmth of his praise and the dark satisfaction that Ross wouldn’t be able to bully that poor P.A. anymore.
“You made this? Should I be worried?” Tony feigned horror. “Barnes is still alive so your cooking can’t be all that bad-oof!” He grunted as you flapped the back of your hand into his gut, hard.
“Stark!” You growled in warning.
“Okayyy, good talk.” He bolted with a cheeky grimace.
Bucky held you tight to his chest so you couldn’t give chase and assault Tony with your wooden spoon. “Easy, tiger.” He turned you in his embrace and pressed a needy kiss to your lips, knowing just how to calm your fiery temper.
The team came together for dinner and you all sat on floor cushions around a low table to eat. You had enlisted the help of Vision to create your Marrakech themed night and you had both outdone yourselves. Cannibalising one of the conference rooms had been a stroke of genius and, in your opinion, it was a far better use for the room than boring meetings. The dim glow of the ornate iron lanterns and the holographic fire courtesy of FRIDAY, the makeshift marquee made from brightly coloured fabrics, the smell from the food you’d made, and the soft but authentic music made you feel like you’d stepped through a portal into a souk lounge in the heart of Morocco.
“Next time, let’s not invite the others.” Bucky murmured in your ear as he leaned in to give you a kiss after you had all settled and began to eat. “I want you,” his voice husky with need, “right here on these cushions.”
You swallowed hard, looking around to see if anyone had caught his words, excited by his brazen proposition. Chatter and laughter continued around you, oblivious to your rising blush.
“Naked and wrapped in colourful silks.” His lips brushed the tender skin below your ear and you shivered, setting a short-lived prismatic display of your power against the fabrics hanging around the group. You felt his smirk, he was doing this on purpose. “Satin skin under my hands, hot and needy as I love you so painfully slow.”
“Bucky…” You sighed wantonly as the imagery overtook you.
You could almost feel him stroking his hands up your legs as they parted for him, silk kissing your skin as he bared your body to the air. Goosebumps despite the warmth of a real fire, and the golden glow mirroring the fire in his eyes. Each gasp. Each sigh. They were percussion to the music he played with your body. Sweat-slicked skin adhering you two together as hips rolled and pleasure filled you to bursting. His hands, both firm and gentle, exploring and worshiping you like you were Aphrodite herself. Never truly allowing you to come down from the heights he drove you to, never relenting his most devoted worship, not even when the names of other gods spilled from your lips and you cried out in ecstasy so loud you could split the sky.
“Miss Sun?” The words feel foreign; soft but still plenty sharp to snap you back to reality.
You’d eaten with the team, smiled at them when they’d thanked you for making a wonderful dinner, and had been clearing away dishes in a complete daze. Across the kitchen, Bucky smirked at you from where he was piling plates into the dishwasher. That little shit knew exactly what he’d done.
“Miss Sun?” Vision looked concerned as he laid a hand gently on your shoulder. “Is everything alright?”
“I’m good.” You mentally shook yourself, making a mental note to torment Bucky later. “I’m aaaalll good.”
Vision nodded curtly, pausing a moment before he addressed the reason he’d approached you in the first place.
“I’ve taken the liberty of suggesting an amendment for your tagine recipe, to increase the sauce to meat ratio while leaving the delicate balance of flavours intact.”
“Why? What’s wrong with my recipe?”
“Nothing is wrong.” He smiled warmly. “A comment was made that more sauce would have been welcome.”
“More sauce, huh?” You slid your tray of crockery onto the nearest counter and picked up a tray of baked spiced orange pastries and mint sugared pineapple pieces. “I’ll take it under advisement.”
When you delivered dessert and settled on your cushion next to Bucky, he squeezed your thigh reassuringly as the chatter quietened while the team tucked into the delicious moist pastries. He was about to tell you he was proud of you for not allowing your irritation to flare but he didn’t get the chance. He knew you were insecure, underneath the foul mouth and the bravado was a girl who needed reassurance that she was more than just good enough.
“So…” You cocked your head as the eyes of the whole team fell on you. “Which one of you bollocks thinks my chicken is dry?” You pointed your spoon around the table starting at Sam. “You?” He was always the first to talk shit, even if it was just a joke. “You?” Natasha fell under your gaze.
“No one said it was dry, sweetie.” She smiled kindly, seeing your outburst for what it was – you really needed to know you’d done a good job. You’d felt useless being stuck at the compound while the rest of the team had meet and greets with officials. No matter how boring they really were, you felt left out. You’d had Vision for company but he didn’t share your feelings. “I just said I’d kill for more of that awesome sauce and Vision, being the pragmatic type, figured he’d save lives and help you update the recipe.”
You huffed a little but relaxed as Bucky laid his arm across your shoulder. “You know she likes things a bit saucy, babe.” He chuckled.
“She’s not the only one.” You whispered and elbowed him in the ribs playfully, earning a wink from him. “Earlier you said something about silk and sex, and I expect you to deliver.”
Bucky was up on his feet immediately, pulling you up and slinging you over his shoulder while you squealed in protest. “If you’ll excuse us,” he addressed the room, “we have a recipe to discuss.”
“Sounds like a recipe for buns in the oven.” Sam scoffed around a mouthful of pineapple.
Bucky snagged one of the silks that made up the make-shift marquee and waved the red and orange material like a flag as he carried you giggling from conference room Marrakech. He was a man of his word and you could expect nothing but exquisite adoration. Your skin tingled with anticipation. The silk. His hands. His lips and tongue. You moaned lustfully.
As the door of your room closed firmly and you were laid gently on your bed, the love in his eyes engulfed you whole.
Note: Written for Rae’s Leap Year Writing Challenge! It’s my first time publishing on Tumblr so here we go! Also, I saw the Super Bowl commercial and Loki’s like three second clip so I just had to include it!
Warnings: None that I can think of.
02
The hallways of the building were barren, not eliciting any confidence in Emma whatsoever. The plain decorations of the Time Variance Authority headquarters had never put her mind at ease, especially today of all days.
A promise had been made, and Emma would be damned if she wouldn’t believe him to carry it out.
She knew. She knew that today was the day that everything she ever cared about would be destroyed. Yet, she was hardly scared.
It had all started three months ago, when Agent Emma Titan had been assigned a case.
It had been shockingly easy to capture Loki. So easy, the entire agency was always on edge. It had only been her third day sitting in the room with him when he made his threat.
Loki was adorned in the beige uniform, the orange TVA bright against the dull color. His hair was short, above his shoulders, unlike the long hair they were used to. Emma’s co-workers had cross-referenced him against all the Loki’s throughout time, and eventually placed him as the 2012 version of himself.
It was confusing, and they need answers.
“We just want to know how you were time jumping.” Emma said, her voice smooth and calm, the complete opposite of what she was feeling on the inside.
Every question she had asked the previous days had been answered with silence. Today was proving to be no different.
“Look, Loki, you will never get out of these cuffs if you don’t give us answers. You were charged with the interference of historical events, and the alteration of the time stream, creating alternate time lines, theoretically creating a tear in the fabric of time itself. You’re already on thin ice.” Emma said, her patience thinning. “Not cooperating is only going to make it worse.”
Still, Loki said nothing, but Emma could see the slight upturn of his lips.
“Fine. Rot here for the rest of eternity. See if I care,” Emma told him, standing from her seat set ten feet from him, standard procedure.
Loki chuckled, the sound shocking to Emma. She hadn’t once heard him make a sound.
“I will escape,” he chose to say.
“You will never escape.” Emma told him, her voice steely.
“I’m gonna burn this place to the ground,” Loki hissed, a dark humor coating his words. “I’m gonna burn this place to the ground and everyone in it, just to get out.”
It was only a few months ago, but it seemed so long. Over that time, with the agreement that all cameras would be turned off, Loki began opening up to Emma. He told her of the Tesseract, and his plans to improve the mistakes of the past.
Over and over she had explained that they couldn’t allow him to do that, yet Loki always just laughed, smiled, and said he didn’t need their permission. So, she would change the subject, knowing that was the end of the useful conversation for the day.
They began to talk of all sorts of things. Emma had grown to know the real Loki, and had begun to love him because of it.
But today was the day, she was sure of it. Loki had told her that today would be the last day he found himself in this place. While she couldn’t entirely agree with his methods nor his plans, she knew there was no stopping him.
She stepped into the cell, where Loki was sitting in the same uniform, with the same hair cut, and the same cocky smirk.
“I’m wondering, where is it you think chickens come from?” Loki asked her, his arms crossed over his chest.
“The freezer section,” Emma replied with just as much snark as she usually did.
It had been his idea, to come up with a code to ensure that not only was Emma who she said she was, but also as a reassurance that all cameras were switched off.
Loki breathed out a sigh. He wouldn’t openly admit it, but he had grown to take a liking to Emma. It was the only reason he had warned her of what was to come, but it seemed she wasn’t smart enough to avoid the TVA for the day.
“What are you doing here?” He asked her.
“Trying to talk you out of your plans.” Emma replied smoothly, taking a seat in the much to close chair.
Loki chuckled, a deep sound that Emma found intoxicating.
“Darling, we both know there is no doing that. I tried to warn you of what was to come. You should have stayed home.” Loki replied, rolling his eyes.
“How could I when I knew you wished to burn my home to the ground?” She asked. “You of all people should have learned that a home is not a place, but the people you share your life with.”
“Are you trying to tell me I’m your home, Little Dove?” Loki asked her, a teasing note to his tone.
Emma scoffed. “As if, Loki.”
“It’s a shame, I would have let you stay by my side.”
“How much longer?” Emma asked, desperate to change the subject.
“Not long, Little Dove,” Loki promised.
He had planned accordingly. There was a shift change in exactly three minutes. That, combined with it being the midnight shift change, meant that it was the perfect opportunity. The fire alarms would release his cuffed hands, the automatic procedure for all prisoners of the TVA.
“Please stop this madness, Loki.” Emma begged, her eyes pleading.
“Oh, Little Dove, it is much to late. Besides, I thrive in madness,” he told her.
Emma’s hands began to shake as time ran out. She needed to leave. She should have stayed home. Why didn’t she warn everyone? Why did she let him do this?
Her mind was racing a mile a minute.
She hadn’t asked how he had managed to set this all up, but she should have.
Regret overwhelmed her as tears began to fall from her eyes, her fingers gripping at her blonde strands.
“Three, two, one...” Loki counted down.
On cue, the blaring alarms sounded, the clink of metal sounded, and Loki stood with an evil smirk on his face. He stalked towards Emma as the smell of smoke and the panicked shouts of workers filled her senses.
For the first time since she first met Loki, Emma was terrified of the man before her. Her tears fell down her face swiftly, her breath coming out in choked sobs.
“You will be by my side for all eternity.” Loki vowed.
His hand waved over her head and Emma’s world went black.
Summary: Cooped up in the compound while the team conference with Secretary ‘Toss-pot’ Ross, you decide to cook and decorate. What better way to fill the team’s hearts and bellies than a Marrakech-themed evening with Bucky’s favourite food - Moroccan tagine.
Words: 1.6k
A/N: Written for @buckybarnesbeans leap year challenge filling the dialog prompt: “Which one of you Bollocks thinks my chicken is dry? You? You?” (In bold). It’s a Bucky x Reader originally written as an adult reader, but this is the teen-friendly version. Thank you @sassy-pelican for giving the original a read to check for mess-ups
Warnings: Bad language and British slang. Fluff. Light on reader insecurities towards the end.
The living areas of the compound were quiet and hollow; the whole team was gone and you were left alone. It felt eerie. Like the rest of the world had vanished and you were the sole inhabitant of a world once teeming with life. You shivered at the thought of such endless solitude.
There were remnants of their existence, of course. The alluring yet comforting smell of Bucky’s soap in your bathroom this morning, a half-drank mug of coffee on the common room table, a messily folded newspaper with a half-completed crossword puzzle, and an open packet of Tony’s favourite trail mix hidden in the magazine rack. It wasn’t like they had been snapped out of existence or anything, they were all at a conference with Secretary Ross.
Dickhead, you thought.
Ever since that mission in London where you picked up some amusing English insults that you later took pleasure in using on Secretary Ross, your absence at debriefings and conferences involving him had been, let’s say, strongly advised. Needless to say, Secretary Ross didn’t appreciate you calling him a wanker and telling him that he talked a load of bollocks.
It had been a fun mission though. The team had been brought in to help MI5 foil a plot to steal the crown jewels and reunite the nine pieces of the famous Cullinan diamond, which occult conspiracy theorists say was a stone of great power. Cullinan I, in particular, was an exquisite stone. Housed in the majestic sceptre with the cross, it had piqued your interest purely for its unusual refractive index; there was something about that stone, you could feel it with your powers as you pushed your influence through the security case to interact with the stone.
Goosebumps broke out across your skin and you shook yourself free of the memory. The eeriness of the compound seemed to have increased since invoking the feeling of the power of the stone but you cast it aside as best you could, latching on to the annoyance you felt that Secretary Ross was robbing you of a lazy morning with Bucky. Tosser!
Boredom made your bones itch. You needed to do something other than going back to your room to vegetate until everyone came back, so you decided to cook dinner. Moroccan chicken tagine. It was one of Bucky’s favourite meals, and since everyone was suffering the presence of Secretary Tosser, you figured they deserved a reward.
Delicious smells of savoury meat, fragrant spices and sweet apricots filled the kitchen as the team emerged from the elevator. You were finishing up by adding a handful of chopped coriander leaves to the tagine, humming a tune while you worked, when strong arms snaked around your waist and a beardy kiss pressed against your temple. You’d know the feel and smell of Bucky anywhere.
“Hey, baby!” You smiled. “How is Secretary Tosser?”
“You didn’t miss anything good.” He chuckled in your ear, kissing your neck softly. You adored that you were both still very much in love after years of being together. “He finally fired that P.A. who wrote that you called him a wanker into the meeting transcript that time.”
“No!” You gasped. That woman was a legend in her own right. “That’s fucking terrible -oooo! I hate that man!”
“Relax, Rainbow Brite,” Tony appeared beside you, “I hired her this afternoon so she’ll take notes for all of our meetings with Ross when he’s here.” He beamed, lifting the lid of your tagine and groaning with pleasure as the steam rose. “That smells amazing.”
“Thanks boss.” You grinned, feeling the fuzzy warmth of his praise and the dark satisfaction that Ross wouldn’t be able to bully that poor P.A. anymore.
“You made this? Should I be worried?” Tony feigned horror. “Barnes is still alive so your cooking can’t be all that bad-oof!” He grunted as you flapped the back of your hand into his gut, hard.
“Stark!” You growled in warning.
“Okayyy, good talk.” He bolted with a cheeky grimace.
Bucky held you tight to his chest so you couldn’t give chase and assault Tony with your wooden spoon. “Easy, tiger.” He soothed, knowing just how to calm your fiery temper.
The team came together for dinner and you all sat on floor cushions around a low table to eat. You had enlisted the help of Vision to create your Marrakech themed night and you had both outdone yourselves. Cannibalising one of the conference rooms had been a stroke of genius and, in your opinion, it was a far better use for the room than boring meetings. The dim glow of the ornate iron lanterns and the holographic fire courtesy of FRIDAY, the makeshift marquee made from brightly coloured fabrics, the smell from the food you’d made, and the soft but authentic music made you feel like you’d stepped through a portal into a souk lounge in the heart of Morocco.
“Next time, let’s not invite the others.” Bucky murmured in your ear after you had all settled and began to eat. “It’ll be just you and me,” he whispered, “with a movie, great food, comfy cushions, and cuddles.”
“Sounds like the recipe for a perfect night.” You sighed, body relaxing at the thought of unwinding with him and a movie, but what movie? You loved a high-octane action adventure film, or an epic Sci-Fi, but you also loved a good rom-com too. As your brain filtered through all the films you had on your Netflix list, you zoned out, running on auto-pilot.
“Pardon me, Y/n?” The words feel foreign; soft but still plenty sharp to snap you back to reality.
You’d eaten with the team, smiled at them when they’d thanked you for making a wonderful dinner, and had been clearing away dishes in a complete daze. Across the kitchen, Bucky smirked at you from where he was piling plates into the dishwasher. That little shit knew exactly what he’d done.
“Miss y/n?” Vision looked concerned as he laid a hand gently on your shoulder. “Is everything alright?”
“I’m good.” You mentally shook yourself, making a mental note to torment Bucky later, maybe make him watch that terrible mermaid show you found. “I’m aaaalll good.”
Vision nodded curtly, pausing a moment before he addressed the reason he’d approached you in the first place.
“I’ve taken the liberty of suggesting an amendment for your tagine recipe, to increase the sauce to meat ratio while leaving the delicate balance of flavours intact.”
“Why? What’s wrong with my recipe?”
“Nothing is wrong.” He smiled warmly. “A comment was made that more sauce would have been welcome.”
“More sauce, huh?” You slid your tray of crockery onto the nearest counter and picked up a tray of baked spiced orange pastries and mint sugared pineapple pieces. “I’ll take it under advisement.”
When you delivered dessert and settled on your cushion next to Bucky, he squeezed your thigh reassuringly as the chatter quietened while the team tucked into the delicious moist pastries. He was about to tell you he was proud of you for not allowing your irritation to flare but he didn’t get the chance. He knew you were insecure, underneath the foul mouth and the bravado was a girl who needed reassurance that she was more than just good enough.
“So…” You cocked your head as the eyes of the whole team fell on you. “Which one of you bollocks thinks my chicken is dry?” You pointed your spoon around the table starting at Sam. “You?” He was always the first to talk shit, even if it was just a joke. “You?” Natasha fell under your gaze.
“No one said it was dry, sweetie.” She smiled kindly, seeing your outburst for what it was – you really needed to know you’d done a good job. You’d felt useless being stuck at the compound while the rest of the team had meet and greets with officials. No matter how boring they really were, you felt left out. You’d had Vision for company but he didn’t share your feelings. “I just said I’d kill for more of that awesome sauce and Vision, being the pragmatic type, figured he’d save lives and help you update the recipe.”
You huffed a little but relaxed as Bucky laid his arm across your shoulder. “You know she likes things a bit saucy, babe.” He winked at you.
“Don’t give me that… you big winker!” You chuckled and elbowed him in the ribs playfully. “Earlier you said something about movies and cuddles, and I expect you to deliver.”
Bucky was up on his feet immediately, pulling you up and slinging you over his shoulder while you squealed in protest. “If you’ll excuse us,” he addressed the room, “we have a recipe to discuss.”
“Sounds like a recipe for disaster.” Sam scoffed around a mouthful of pineapple.
“Don’t tempt fate.” Nat scolded.
Bucky snagged a couple of colourful cushions and whacked you with them as he carried you giggling from conference room Marrakech. He was a man of his word and you could expect nothing but relaxation and adoration. And, as the door of your room closed firmly, you found that you didn’t much mind spending the day apart because he was there now, and always would be.
