You were in the middle of forwarding a stack of mission audio reports to Bucky—routine, boring, mechanical—until your thumb slipped. Instead of sending Recon_Report_1A, your screen blinked with betrayal:

Audio message: 1:10 sent to James Barnes.

Your heart stopped. Because that wasn’t recon. That was the file—the one with your breathy moans, whispered pleas… his name on your tongue.

Your thumbs shook as you shot off a group text. SOS: My room NOW.

Not two minutes later, Yelena kicked open your door like she was breaching a hostage situation, and Ava phased through the wall, arms crossed, looking entirely too calm.

“Lena. I screwed up.” “How bad?” Yelena’s grin was already dangerous. “I just sent Bucky the recording. That recording. The prank. For revenge.” Her eyes lit up. “You WHAT? This is amazing!” “I played him thirty seconds as a joke. Not the full one-ten where I say his name! I need it gone before he opens it.” Ava shrugged from your dresser. “Or… let him hear it. He’ll rewind it a hundred times.” You groaned. “Ava, I will literally throw you out a window.”

That’s how Operation Erase the Evidence was born—scrawled across your mirror with bullet points and doodles. Yelena would distract him with an 80s music debate. Ava would phase in as backup. You? You’d steal his phone and delete the file. Easy.

Except Bucky’s voice caught you red-handed. “Looking for something, doll face?”

Heat burned your cheeks. Ava vanished through the wall like a traitor. Yelena, unhelpful, gave you a thumbs-up from the hall. You stammered something about a charger, bolted before your body combusted, and regrouped with the girls.

By some miracle, you wiped the message. Mission accomplished. Crisis averted. Or so you thought.

Hours later, sneaking into the kitchen for a snack, you froze. Bucky sat on the counter, ice cream spoon in hand, eyes gleaming. “A whole minute and ten seconds, huh?” Your stomach dropped. “How did you—” “My phone syncs to my computer,” he interrupted smoothly. “Everything saves.”

Your face went nuclear. Then he leaned close, voice low enough to curl heat through your spine: “If you sound that good moaning my name alone… imagine how you’d sound with me.”

And just as your brain short-circuited, Ava phased through the wall, smug as ever. “Told you he’d listen on repeat.”