A/N: This is a part two to chapter 57, The Butcher, but could totally be read on it's own too. This was requested by BuckysGirl42 !

ALSO how cute is the gif?! Happy Bucky is my aesthetic.

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They call them Bonnie and Clyde; the Avengers' two dirtiest, most dangerous duo. Their questionable pasts and infamous kill-skills amount to the most feared reputations out of the whole world-saving team. There's not a place in the world that one will go without the other. They speak without words—only needing momentarily glances and head nods to relay a thousand words. When they fight it's side by side. When they walk into battle it's shoulder to shoulder.

They call them The Butcher and The Winter Soldier.

"Cover my six."

Bucky scoffs. He doesn't dare to glance back at the woman he shields—keeping his firearm pointed up at the empty doorway.

"What're you letting hot air out for?" The Butcher, Y/N, snaps. She's dropped down on her knees to pick the lock of the billionaire's office safe.

"Because we both know that I'd get into that safe twice as fast as you could," Bucky replies. He jerks his head to push some long hair out of his eyes.

"Yeah, but I need the practice. I had to wear Spanx and heels for this op so I earn the right to choose if you cover my six or if I get yours." Y/N bites down on the inside of her cheek as she presses the side of her head against the locked box—listening closely for that signature click.

Bucky's lips quirk up in the slightest of smirks. "Touché."

"Shut up, Rapunzel. I'm trying to hear this."

"You're talking too," Bucky snorts. He hates the long-haired theme nicknames Y/N's always coming up with.

Okay: they may be inseparable, but they bicker endlessly. They'd never admit to needing or liking the other as much as they really do. That's part of their dynamic, their friend's would say. Ever since Y/N joined the team three months ago and started training with Bucky they've been unstoppable (and arguing in one form or another).

The radio pieces in their ears pick up on Black Widow's voice. "You guys got company."

Steve joins in. "Target's coming up to his office with a woman. Not his wife, in case anyone was wondering."

Bucky curses. He turns towards Y/N while still holding up the gun with one hand. "Told ya you wouldn't get it fast enough." He tosses her the weapon and then takes the spot on the carpet on one knee. Y/N guards the door with her focus reigned.

"Got it."

"You cracked it...?" The Butcher interrupts herself with a sigh when she turns back to see her partner. Bucky's slid the entire safe out of the wall with his metal arm and now has it resting on that silver shoulder. "Dumbass."

"Me?" Bucky laughs. He goes to the window and then makes room for Y/N beside him. "You're the one who couldn't get it open."

"If you're such a genius, tell me how you plan to get it down there? You can't ride the rope with a fucking safe on your arm." Y/N stuffs Bucky's weapon back in the holster on his pants before checking their escape route. Nat had come in before, dressed as a maid, and set up a grappling hook and a zip line that reaches down to the ground before.

"Easy." Bucky smirks and throws the heavy metal box out the window. The echoing crash of it into a dumpster brings a bigger smile to his face.

"Like I said," Y/N groans as she positions herself to slide down. "You're a dumbass."

Bucky closely watches Y/N's descent. She lands perfectly poised on her feet on the cement. The wind curls up bits of her hair as she readjusts the low cut top of her dress. "At least you think I'm pretty," he counters into the earpiece.

"Without a shirt only," Y/N's voice echoes through one side of his head—making him chuckle as he skillfully darts down the side of the tall building.

The Butcher points at the dumpster. "I'm not getting in there to get that thing." She gestures down at her velvet green gown. "This is a rental."

"Alright, alright." Bucky waves her off and jogs away. He climbs into the big blue crate until finding the safe surrounded by ripe smelling trash. He lugs it against his chest just in time to see Nat pull up the getaway car onto the curb. Her window rolls down and she hollers at them to hurry up.

Y/N slides into the backseat. Bucky follows after her—chucking the small safe between them. It bounces off the seat and almost smashes Y/N's feet but Bucky manages to catch it. She rolls her eyes.

"That was too easy."

"Woulda been easier if you knew how to pick a lock," Bucky mumbles. He's trying not to smirk. He lives for this back and forth banter—he just doesn't want her to know it.

"Listen here, buddy, I can still kick your ass in hand-to-hand. You hardly have anything to brag about." Her hair is let down in cascading curls when she pulls out the long pins that kept it up before. Nat is driving them back to the compound at sixty miles an hour. Steve's in the passenger seat on the phone talking quietly.

Bucky's tongue darts out of his mouth to moisten his lips. Y/N catches him staring at her exposed, pushed up breasts and flicks him between the eyes with a finger.

"I thought I told you not to stare at my boobs, Barnes."

"I'd say sorry, but I'm not."

Up in the front seat Nat rolls her eyes.

The next day, after the mission is done and the team is back at the compound, Bucky's working out in the Big Gym while Rihanna music plays on the speakers overhead. He's sat out on a bench crouched over enough to do reps with one hand. A bit of sweat rolls down his neck towards his naked abs. Absentmindedly he keeps going on. He couldn't even tell you how long he's been going at this for. No, he's too busy watching The Butcher kicking ass out on that training floor. There are six of SHIELD's best training professionals out there now wearing mouth-guards and attempting to pose a challenge for her. There's no foe that The Butcher can't beat though. They're nothing more than slow moving prey—meat ready to eat—that she has no problem taking down. One by one they fall to the floor with a thud while she hardly loses breath. It's absolutely intoxicating for Bucky to witness. There's absolutely no one in the world that fights as well as Y/N, which makes her unbeatable... and incredibly sexy to Bucky.

"Mind putting on a shirt over there? You're distracting me."

Bucky chuckles lightly at the sound of her dangerously gravelly voice from the middle of the gym. "You don't look too distracted to me."

Y/N shrugs between strikes. She ducks down and rolls between a pair of legs before kicking the guy from behind—splaying him onto the floor.

"Just think of it as payback for that dress you wore last night." Bucky keeps pulling the weight up towards his chest.

"I didn't wear it for you, if that's what you think." Y/N avoids a hit to the stomach before flipping over a woman onto her back. She rolls off of the trainer in just enough time to knock out the legs of the one who tries to strike her next.

"You know green's my favorite color, doll." Bucky raises a brow, almost surprised, when he sees Y/N start to stride away from the scene of the faux fight scene. All the trainers are prying themselves off of the floor.

"Is it? What a coincidence," Y/N purrs as she stalks closer. Like a cat cloaked in all black she joins Bucky on the bench. He's straddling the seat with his legs pulled apart and she does the same—facing him. She lets her eyes wander over his naked chest before resting on his familiar face with the light stubble and stealthy smirk. "You've been lifting that dumbbell for a long time now. Getting tired?"

Bucky's lips purse as he shakes his head. "Nope."

Y/N watches him lift the bar for a few moments longer. Very much she enjoys the sight of his flexing abs and tensed arm muscles. She licks her lips before smiling up at him cheekily. "Wanna see who can do more pushups?"

"Please," Bucky scoffs, "We already know it's me." The dumbbell clatters to the ground and he stands to his feet.

"Twenty bucks says it's me." Y/N goes to wipe her sweaty hands on her pants before remembering that he spandex are too short. Instead she reaches over to Bucky to swipe the moisture away there: choosing his toned, tight thighs to drag her hands. Bucky's composition is tested as her nails trace a path up towards the bulge in his boxers. Y/N nearly laughs with glee to see the wide-eyed reaction her touch draws. "Well?"

"Twenty bucks," Bucky agrees, "And loser owes winner a massage."

"A massage? Desperate to get your hands on me, are we?" Y/N muses with a snort.

Bucky feels his cheeks warming as they walk onto the mat. "Oh shut up." He doesn't have a clever comeback because she's hit the nail on the head.

"Alright. I'm game." Y/N drops onto her hands and knees. She peers up at him from the floor. "Ready, Soldier?"

Bucky grins. He copies her stance on all fours. "Readier than you'll ever be, Butcher."

"You wish."

They start off strong and determined. While neither one of them would really mind the punishment of losing, they're too damn stubborn to cease. At one point Bucky ruffles Y/N's feathers by switching to only one arm: the metal one.

"Fucking cheater!" Y/N pants. It's been a long ass time and she's growing slightly out of breath—mainly from laughing.

"You didn't give any rules." Bucky moves back down to both arms.

A few minutes more and Y/N's growing bored. She can't stop stealing glances over at the super soldier next to her. And while she's nowhere near exhausted, she's growing tired of being unable to touch him. So for the first time in her life, The Butcher purposely forfeits a challenge. She loses the fight when she rolls over onto her side and prances up onto her feet.

"Oh, done are we?" Bucky asks with a proud snicker. Before he can properly get out of push-up stance though, he feels Y/N climbing up onto his back. His whole body stiffens under her weight.

"I'm done—you're not," Y/N leans her mouth down next to Bucky's ear. She curls a finger around some of the hair to tuck it out of her way. She loves the way he shivers when her lip brushes against his lobe between words. "Keep going, Soldier. I wanna take a ride."

Bucky's eyes momentarily squeeze closed. Then, taking her command like he only knows how to do, he keeps the steady up and down movement of his arms. He lifts her sitting body on his back with each pushup. Her added weight adds no strain to his arms, really, but her fingernails on his bare skin add plenty of strain to the tightness of his pants.

"You do realize this still qualifies as a loss," Bucky pants. He's out of breath—mainly because he can feel Y/N reposition herself until she's lying flat down his spine. Her breasts push into his shoulder blades and her head turns to rest next to his neck.

"I'm ready for my punishment," Y/N retorts in a whisper. The smirk on her face colors her voice as she says, "I've wanted to get my hands on your naked body for a long time now anyway." She draws shapes on his bare waist with her sharp nail—indulging on the pattern of slightly raised flesh that follows her path.

Bucky's resolve snaps. He can't do this anymore—he can't ignore his unyielding desire for her. The metal arm supports all his weight while the flesh one reaches back to snatch the woman from her resting place. For once in her life Y/N's unable to predict her opponent's actions as she's rolled onto her back onto the floor under Bucky's propped up arms. Then, before either of them has time to think, Bucky's lips are on hers. There's no hesitance in his kiss: pure desire and need. Hers is a reciprocation of everything Bucky's felt all these months but never actually said. Sure, they've teased and taunted—flirted and prodded—but never has their banter led to a moment like this.

Y/N lifts a hand to card her fingers through Bucky's long, unkempt hair. She uses this leverage to move and tilt his mouth however she pleases. Her teeth grazing his plump bottom lip makes him groan quietly.

While the gesture's deepened Y/N's legs have wrapped around Bucky's waist. Then, in one sharp movement, she flips the Super Soldier onto his back. The loud whack of his heavy form onto the mat shakes him out of his stupor. His eyes fly open as he sees that The Butcher has got him trapped beneath her with his hands above his head and his hips weighted down with her knees.

"What are you doing?" Bucky pants. His cheeks are flushed with warm color as he watches her smirk deviously.

"Reminding you that I'm still better than you, Barnes." She grins and brings her lips back in closer to his again. "I can't have you getting cocky on me now." Bucky tries to reach her lips but she pulls farther away. "Just because I let you kiss me doesn't mean I'm not going to kick your ass."

Bucky chuckles lowly. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good." She brushes her lips along his—drawing out a staggered breath from him before letting him kiss her fully once more.

Bucky pulls away just slightly. Against her mouth he mutters, "I think I'm in love with you."

The Butcher smiles—it's not a smirk, nor a leer, or a grin. Her smile is sweet and radiant as she sits up straighter on his chest. Bucky props up onto his elbows and waits for her reaction.

"You think?" She raises a brow.

Bucky shakes his head. "No," he clears his throat, "I know that I am."

The Butcher takes The Winter Soldier by both of his cheeks—drawing him closer once more. She needs to kiss him again, then she'll tell him that she feels the very same. But for right now all she can say is, "That's better, Soldier."