Captain America and Bucky Barnes Imagines

*107. BUCKY: I'm No Angel

A/N: Hey guys! This was a request, and I have LOTS more to do in the next few weeks. I've literally got a "schedule" for which ones I have to write when, and deadlines I want to post them all by, so if you've requested something recently don't think I've forgotten about you! It's all coming very soon :) Thanks again for being great readers! Love you all.

-Winnie

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUTTTTT guys it's gettin' real hot in here. 

Words: 6K

In the darkness of the midnight hour you crawl along the floor—scraping your knees against the hardwood and staying impossibly silent as to not be heard creeping by your mission target. Breath held in your chest you pause outside of a tightly closed door. From the bag on your back you slowly draw out your laptop and tablet combo team. Cross-legged you set the devices around you before reaching up to the door's electronic facial scanner. It's almost too dark to see. By the light of the laptop screen you manage to function. Plugging in a few wires that run from the panel to your computer you settle in for a long night. It's going to take a lot of time, finesse, and skill to break into this high-tech security system and crack the home owner's facial/voice recognition entrance codes.

Hacking is hard work, but it's the "superpower" that got you onto the Avenger's team. It's been four years that you've been part of the dysfunctional family now and there's nothing else in the world quite like it. None of the reports or documentaries you watched as a kid could have prepared you for this.

"You did it?"

"Shh!" You smack Tony Stark along the side of his head as he peeps around the hallway corner over your shoulder. "Yes," you hiss at a much quieter tone. "Of course I did it—I'm the best." It's early morning now, and just a few hours ago before dawn you'd been out in this same hall setting up the trap.

Tony, who is nothing short of an obnoxious older brother-figure in your eyes, smiles deviously. "I'm so proud."

"You shouldn't be. I got this good on my own—no thanks to you, loser." You grin smugly and look back towards the door of the apartment that sits unoccupied a few yards away.

Tony nudges your side with his hard elbow. He's watching the security tapes from down the way on the tablet screen he holds. "He's coming—he's coming," he whispers.

Stiffening, you slink farther back around the corner's edge to not be seen by the target. Just in time, too, because rounding the side of the hall with the elevators is Steve Rogers. He's sweaty and slightly pinker than normal. He's been on a run. A towel is strung up over his shoulders to collect the perspiration that runs from his face. He dabs his skin sporadically before saddling up in front of his apartment door.

Tony is shaking you madly—dying with anticipation of what's to come. You refused to let him in on the specifics of the "prank". Juvenile as it sounds, it's the best way to put your hacker skills to use. It helps to keep the whole team's morale boosted, too. Besides: Tony Stark's been known to announce to the whole world (on many different platforms) that you're his favorite person in the universe, let alone on the team, besides Pepper Potts. This is how the two of you entertain yourselves between world-saving missions and alien invasions.

Steve habitually touches the screen of the mechanism connected to the wall just outside of his door. Instead of scanning his fingerprint, though, the machine makes a strange sound: almost like a ring. Steve's brow gnarls at the change. He tries again only to be met by the same chiming noise as before. Eyes narrowed, he leans over to inspect the screen.