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Muffled shouts were coming through the office door.
Clint and Tony had their ears pressed against it.
Bucky, who had at least some decorum of shame, leaned against the opposite wall, perfectly content to let poor, non-hearing-enhanced suckers try to peace what was being said on the other side of the door.
You had gone into Steve's office to 'talk' about the supposed stealth mission you were sent on a week ago. It had ended horribly. Your cover was blown and you barely got out of there with all your limbs.
To make matters worse, for the better part of the week Pepper's PR team has been trying their best to keep the press from publishing a photo of you and one of the druglord's henchmen mid-fight at Central Park in broad daylight, with him bent over your knee and you spanking him with a belt - a snapshot of it mere inches from his ass.
Steve had held it together for a week after Bucky had threatened to humble his ass the same way you had humbled the henchmen if he so much as thought about yelling at you while you were in and out of consciousness at the med-wing.
However, now that you had healed up, all bets were off.
"God damn it, I expressly told you not to get caught," Steve's shouted. "Do you know how much shit we're in?"
"We wouldn't be in so much shit if you didn't send me in there illegally," you shouted back, matching his volume and aggression.
"Technically, it wasn't illegal, because no one was supposed to see you. Stealth means you don't draw attention to yourself."
"I was stealthy!"
"You. Sent. Closeups. Of. Clint's. Ass. To. Your. Mark."
"Hey," Clint was scandalized, the left side of his face smushed against the door.
But you were having none of Steve's shit.
"Yeah, I did," you said. "As an intimidation tactic. How could've I known that he was hooking up with the druglords son and thought it was from him? Who even tries to blackmail their boss with butt-picks?"
Bucky didn't need to see you to know you were fuming, face pulled in a snarl and both hands on your hips.
And he knew Steve well enough to know what he would say next.
"I'm benching you. Two weeks. You're benched." Steve said barely holding it together.
Ahh, the Captain card.
There was some shuffling in the office. Clint and Tony just barely moved away in time when you swung the door open.
"Benched, my ass. You're going to regr- Oh hey, guys!" your voice changed from threatening to friendly as you saw the group that had gathered outside. "What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you, actually. We had a deal and I lost fair and square. Congratulations, sweetcheeks," Tony said and handed you twenty bucks.
"Nice." You pocketed the winnings from the bet.
"Seriously? My ass is in some dude's spank bank for twenty dollars?" Clint said, dejected.
"Aww, don't worry Clint. Your's wasn't the only butt I sent."
Bucky stilled.
You wouldn't dare.
You had Bucky saved on your phone as Tactical Buttcheeks, but you wouldn't dare.
Would you?
Seeing Bucky's face, you slowly stepped backward and kept inching back until it was safe to turn around so you could, essentially, run for your life.
You managed to run halfway across the compound, scaring the bejesus out of some new S.H.I.E.L.D. training recruits, before someone grabbed you from behind and pushed you face-first against a wall.
"Listen here now," Bucky snarled.
You wiggled in his grasp and Bucky forgot what he was about to say.
God damn, your ass was right against his crotch.
"Hey, what did a hotdog say to a corndog?" You asked, unaware that Bucky was struggling for his life behind you.
"What."
"... Looks like someone's got a stick up their butt."
With that, you got shoved into the wall a second time.
You fell on your butt giggling the entire way down, as Bucky stomped down the hallway to find Steve and demand you be put on a mission this very instant.
"Nice ass," you called after him.
Without looking back, Bucky gave you the middle finger.