Everything the Light Touches

Chapter Seventeen

a/n: ehe. it's here. let's get married folks.

Agog. Aghast. Flabbergasted. A little turned on if we're being honest...

Bucky's brain had not been able to get your little stunt from the gun range out of his head as her watched you disappear into the elevator, leaving him with barely a shred of dignity and his tongue practically lolling onto the floor. Being close to you while trying to teach you to shoot and fight, things that apparently you didn't need teaching- we'll have to talk to Stark about that later- had put him in a slightly uncomfortable position that may have required him to readjust ever so slightly. But watching you absolutely destroy the target? That had Bucky counting to ten and holding his breath, thinking of baseball and dead puppies to calm down.

He swore he'd seen you flash him a little wink as the elevator doors closed but he shook that off as a little bit of wishful thinking as he finished cleaning up the empty shells and the rest of the training room.

On his way upstairs, Bucky received a phone call.

"What's up, Steve?"

"How did the training go?" He asked, his voice teasing as if he knew something Bucky didn't, causing the latter to stiffen at his best friend's voice.

"What do you know, Rogers?"

"Oh nothing, only that Stark has been bragging about how much he and Happy have trained Y/N for the last couple years...and that she's probably more deadly than Stark Industries will ever be. Is he right?"

Bucky ground his teeth and scrubbed his hand over his eyes as he let out a sound close to a growl causing Steve to burst into laughter.

"It's not funny, Rogers."

"Actually, I think it is pretty fucking hilarious. What happened? She show you up? Kick your ass?"

"She obliterated the damn target and fucking  tried to SING me," Bucky responded, a smirk growing on his lips as he thought back to his arms around you and the small confident look on your face as you took him on. Was he questioning if he was turned on earlier? Cause there was no question about it.

Steve laughed again, a deep belly laugh that Bucky swore he hadn't heard in years before he responded, "This is fucking amazing. Here you are thinking you need to be Captain America or some shit and meanwhile she's fucking Black Widow. Taking care of herself. Gotta give her credit, Buck. She's always been a goddamn badass."

The smirk on Bucky's lips grew into a grin.

"Yeah, yeah she has."

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A few days passed since the meeting in the training room with Bucky but that interaction was playing on repeat throughout the week as the wedding day loomed closer. You replayed the look on his face as the doors to the elevator had closed and remembered giving in to your 'inner demons' and throwing a flirtatious wink his way before quietly cursing and wondering if that was the right thing to do.

Tony Stark had spent the last couple years making sure that you could at least somewhat protect yourself, whether with your hands or with a weapon and you'd never truly appreciated that effort until now. You made a mental note to send Happy a thank you card...maybe including some thank you chocolates as you winced thinking back on how you'd kicked his ass so many times before.

You were dragged out of your memory by a shock of blonde hair leaning in with a drink for you, making you glance into twin blue eyes and a grinning Steve Rogers before he parked himself next to you in the booth.

You and Bucky were a mere two days away from your wedding and while you'd never stated if you wanted a bachelorette party or not, Natasha and Steve had gone out of their way to plan a joint party for you and Bucky. When you'd originally complained about it they said "you're having a party whether you like it or not," and "it has to be joint because the wedding got moved up...and because it's safer this way but that's a minor piece the equation," and after much begging you relented. Natasha ordered a cap on the number of people entering The Underground and made sure that Thor thoroughly vetted people at the door and before you knew it you'd been whisked away to drink away your cares.