Moonlit Road

whenever he tries to talk to you during the defense against the dark arts lessons you loudly shush him and tell him to leave you alone. when he tries to gauge how much you enjoy quidditch you send him a glare. you never seem to smile when he’s around, that frown growing between your brows.

and it’s strange, really. gojo is used to people just being fine with him, better than fine actually. like for example, one night in the common rooms, he went up to you to ask something measly.

“did you understand a word of what snape was saying?” he asked with a teasing smile, something surely you could agree on.

you seems to be alone, working on an essay, being left by your friends as they went to sleep. when you saw him come near you, you had to control yourself from groaning.

“yes.” you mutter, continuing to work.

“merlin,” he said with an awkward chuckle, glad none of his friends were around to see the ever boisterous gojo satoru stammer, “you must have great-”

“i’m trying to get this done by tonight,” you look up momentarily and he would have been able to reciprocate your hatred if only he didn’t find his throat getting dry whenever you looked at him, “please leave.”

so gojo leaves. and this seems to be a routine. but he knows that deep down it’s not just him pestering you that the issue. because sometimes, when he doesn’t mean to, he catches your stare from across the dining hall table. and he sees the way you were tediously picking his features apart, just as he does to you.

and he doesn’t miss the way you quickly avert your stare away. nor does he miss the way you bring your cold fingers to your cheeks to cool them down.

Although she was your closest friend, you felt silly asking her about it. There was so much else going on in the world it almost felt childish to care about something as material as your husband's wedding ring, but you couldn't help yourself and how much you did care. If there was any chance that it survived you'd rather know and be made fun of then let it be locked away somewhere for another hundred years.

Looking down at your own engagement ring that had been sitting on your left hand since 1941, you fiddled with the utensils in in front of you.

“I don’t know,” You shrugged. “Maybe a wedding band?”

When you met Nat’s eyes you could tell that the realization had hit her as she placed her bottle on the table and leaned in closer to you.

“Y/n-”

“Never mind.” You said, sitting back in your own chair. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, Barnes.” Nat argued. “You’re wondering where your husband’s wedding ring went. I get it. I didn’t find anything like that, but I don’t think you need to worry about it too much. I mean c’mon, Barnes, as soon as people see his vibranium arm I think they’ll know who he is and who he’s married to.”

Catching the hint of a smirk on her face in her attempt to lighten the mood, you laughed.

“Fair.”

Biting back the sinking feeling in your chest knowing it was really, truly gone you shook your head.

“I figured it was a long shot.” You said, picking up your glass once more. “I don’t know... I was just hoping it was still around somewhere. You remember this wedding day you had and slipping the band on his finger as you promised to be together ‘til you die and... and it just feels a world away now. I guess I was feeling nostalgic and liked the idea of him having that ring back. It kind of keeps you grounded, you know?”

Taking a sip of water, you watched as she nodded along with what you said and you felt relieved to finally get this feeling that had been weighing you down off of your chest.

After a moment of thought, Nat spoke up again.

“You wanna know what I think?” Nat asked.

“What?”

“I think,” She said tipping her bottle at you. “that you should get him another one. I don’t think it really matters to him whether it’s from your wedding day or not. He just loves you.”

You tried your hardest to bite back a smile.

“You think so?”

Rather than giving into your appeal, Nat only rolled her eyes and shook her head, scoffing at even the idea of James Buchanan Barnes not being completely and utterly in love with his wife: you.

-

You smiled as you turned the key into the lock of yours and your husband’s shared apartment. Even after over eighty years married, you could never get over the fact that you got to come home to him every day. You couldn’t remember after all this time if you had felt this way since the moment the two of you married, or if it was the result of losing everything you had ever known and finding some semblance of reality in your husband’s return, but either way you loved it and him. 

You loved the sound of the television playing as you came home and the smell of his cologne when he hugged you. You adored the feeling of the cold metal of his dog tag meeting your back each morning when he wrapped his arms around you and the feeling of his scruff rubbing against your cheek as he went to sleep. You loved the way he teased you and the way he laughed at your shared inside jokes that no one else understood. You loved how he grounded you and reminded you that you were human and how even after all of this time he was your greatest companion in the whole world. 

You loved him.

Through and through.

He had proven it to you the day he asked you to marry him and here you were about to return the favor eighty years later.

As you entered your apartment, you barely even had the chance to shut the door behind you, before your husband was coming around the corner from the living room, his face lighting up at the sight of you.

“Well hi.” Bucky said, greeting you at the door and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You’re home late.”

“I was picking something up.”

“Is it dinner?” He asked, grabbing for the bag in your hand. “’Cause I’m starving.”

Pulling the bag away from his grasp, you pressed your hand against his chest and shoved him backward.

“Hey, slow down!” You laughed. “Go sit on the couch. I want to show you something.”

“Is it a three course meal?”

You glared at him.

“Alright, alright.” Bucky said, easing his grip on the bag. “I’ll go sit down.”

You followed your husband as he made his way into your living room and sat down on the sofa. Once you sat beside him, you grabbed the television remote and shut it off, leaving the room in a comfortable silence surrounded by the warm glow of lamps as the two of you faced each other.

“What is it-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, you cut him off.

“Close your eyes.”

Your husband raised his eyebrows at you, but when you offered him no sort of explanation, he rolled his eyes and closed them.

Once you were sure they were shut, you leaned over and dug into the bag that was on the floor, finding the ring box inside.

“I know this isn’t really that well thought out,” You said, as you held the box eagerly in your hands in front of your husband who was none the wiser. “But, to be fair, I don’t think yours was that well thought out either and I always loved that about us.”

“Honey, what are you talking about?”

Smiling at the sound of his pet name for you and the way it made your heart skip in your chest, you continued.

“Can you quit talking so much and let a girl finish?” You teased him, recalling his proposal to you. “Open your eyes.”

Slowly opening his eyes, Bucky’s focus traveled from your face down to the box in your hands before meeting your eyes again with his brows furrowed.

“What I was trying to say was...” You said, opening the box and revealing the replica wedding band inside. “Will you marry me? Or... I guess... stay married to me?”

You felt your heart grow three sizes as you watched a smile rise to your husband’s face, his features highlighted by the warm glow of the lamps around the two of you.

“You got me a ring?” He asked, gently taking the box from your hands.

Leaning into your husband’s side and resting your head on his shoulder, you nodded.

“You lost yours and I thought I could give you a new one.” You said. “I know you can’t wear it or anything, but… I don’t know… I just thought it’d be nice.”

Turning his head to the side, he quirked his eyebrows at you.

“Who said I couldn’t wear it?”

Your mind went blank for a moment.

“Well I don’t know I just figured because of the vibranium-”

Now, before you had the chance to finish, your husband snuck his hand under the collar of his shirt. When he pulled his hand out, he had his dog tags grasped between his fingers and he rose his arms above him, pulling the chain up and over his head with it.

“What are you doing?” You asked, sitting up straight.

You watched as your husband unclasped the chain, sliding the dog tags off of it and, instead, slipping the wedding band on. Watching in awe, not entirely sure what to say, Bucky brought the chain back over his neck, adjusting the band so it laid flat in the middle of his chest.

“I like it.” He said. “What do you think?”

Taking the dog tags from where they had been laying in his lap, you held them in your hands and stared up at him.

“Are you sure, James?” You asked. “These meant a lot to you.”

Bucky shook his head.

“This means more to me.”

“Why?” You asked.

“Because,” he said. “Those reminded me that I was a person when I was still figuring out who I was again. It meant a lot when I was on the run after Hydra and I didn’t have you, but this,” he said tugging on the band. “This reminds me that I’m more than a soldier.”

You thought for a moment.

“That you’re my husband?” You asked.

“That... and...” He said, turning to face you. “That I’m the same man that could get a girl like you to fall in love with me.”

A goofy smily rising to your face, you shook your head lovingly at your husband and laughed.

“What happened to that tough guy everyone’s always talking about?” You asked, playfully shoving at his chest.

“Oh I could still kick someone’s ass,” He chuckled, wrapping his arm around you. “But you know I’ve always been soft for you.”

You did. You hadn’t always been able to pick up on it when you were younger and head over heels in love with your brother’s best friend, but from the moment he let you know how he felt, you had never questioned Bucky’s love for you.

“I know, Barnes.” You said. “So you like it?”

As you leaned your back against the sofa and head onto his shoulder once more, you watched as he fiddled with the wedding band on his chest, moving it around beneath his fingertips.

“I love it.” He said, pressing a light kiss against your forehead. "How about we get some dinner to celebrate?”

Meeting your husbands eyes, you glared at him.

“Are you serious, Buck?” You asked. “You’re still thinking about food?”

“What?” He asked, throwing up his hands defensively. “I’m hungry!”

Rolling your eyes at your husband, you pushed yourself off of the couch and reached your hands out for him to take once you did.

“Alright, fine.” You said. “Let’s get something to eat, tough guy.”

A smile coating his face, Bucky accepted your outreached hands and pulled himself up with ease. Once he stood, he didn’t allow his hand to leave yours though, the both of your fingers intertwined as you left your apartment and started the walk to your shared favorite restaurant down the street.