It had been a while since that one reckless night with Bucky Barnes, the night you swore both of you would never talk about again. But here you were, walking into the common room wearing his sweater, the dark one that still faintly smelled like his cologne.

Bucky froze mid-conversation. His jaw tensed, eyes narrowing as they landed on you. “…Can I have my sweater back?” he asked flatly, voice low with irritation.

You smiled sweetly, tilting your head. “Can I have my V-card back?”

The room went dead silent.

Steve’s eyes went wide as he coughed awkwardly into his hand.

Natasha tried, and failed to hide her grin behind her coffee mug.

Sam muttered, “Oh, this is gonna be good,” under his breath.

And Tony… Tony just pinched the bridge of his nose and glared at Bucky.

“Really, Barnes?” Tony groaned. “My living room?”

Bucky ran a hand down his face, muttering something that sounded a lot like a prayer for patience.

You, meanwhile, just smirked, tugging the sweater’s sleeve a little tighter around your fingers.