It happened when you least expected it.
Bucky had been trying to cook up something new one Sunday afternoon, singing off key along with something playing on his laptop. You had slept in because of a late hospital shift, and it was already noon by the time you woke up. You halted in the kitchen doorway, feeling much more awake as you looked around at the mess.
“Uh…. Buck?” You watched his head turn around at the sound of your sleep addled voice, a few loose strands from his bun framing his face. His hands were held out away from his body, coated with flour from some kind of dough he seemed to be kneading. He looked like an overgrown child that had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. You pursed your lips to try and not laugh.
“What are you up to?” Your voice was an octave higher with the effort to suppress your laughter as you leaned against the door frame, arms crossed.
Bucky smiled sheepishly. “I’m trying to make something new, but I don’t think it’s working out.”
You finally stepped into the kitchen, looking at the counters covered in dirty pots and pans, some flour on the floor, and even a small batch of failed dough sitting in one corner. You raised your eyebrows at the sad pile.
“Looks like you’ve been at it for a while.” You commented, moving closer to him. “And why exactly did you decide to make dough at-” you looked at the clock, “-half past noon on a Sunday?”
Bucky sighed, eyeing the dough he was working on before deciding it was a failure as well and moving to the sink to wash his hands. As the water washed the remnants of his efforts away, he seemed to be thinking before deciding to speak. “I wanted to make you this thing.”
“What thing?”
Bucky gestured to the open laptop, making you move to where it sat a safe distance away from the war zone. Your eyebrows furrowed as you read over some French name your couldn’t even pronounce. You skipped over it entirely, scanning the rest of the article.
“Why were you trying to make this?” You mumbled as you kept reading. “This sounds like ten new levels of torture.”
Bucky didn’t reply, but you stopped short when you saw a picture of the intricately cooked flavored bread at the end of the article, somehow designed to hold a beautiful diamond ring right in the middle.
You turned around sharply to look at Bucky, nearly jumping when you saw him kneeling on the floor on one knee, holding a ring with a single shining diamond in the middle. He had an almost apologetic look on his face, gesturing towards the mess around him.
“As you can see, I tried to replicate what I saw. But it didn’t exactly go as planned.”
You let out a breathless laugh.
“I- we’re already married, you idiot.”
Bucky nodded. “You’re right. But I want to marry you right. I want to stand on that stage and watch you walk towards me knowing you love me as much as I love you. And I want to hold your hand and thank people for real when they congratulate us.”
Bucky slowly rose to his feet, walking closer to you. His hands took your own, tracing over your palms. “I want to see your hands filled with mehndi once again, fingers intertwined with my own. I want to swipe my thumb on your forehead again, with love and a promise to be together forever. I want to bring you home with me, and make sweet love to you all night.” You laughed at his words. “I want to make you mine, truly and wholly. No pretending. No lies. Just love and happiness.”
You sniffed, smile so wide you felt like it would split your face. “You want to have another wedding?”
Bucky nodded. “Even if it means we’ll just trash talk everyone that shows up.”
You laughed, nodding vigorously. “Then I will marry you, Bucky Barnes. Again.”
The ring slid smoothly over your finger to nestle at the base, a home that it would have for the rest of your life. Bucky’s lips fit into yours the very next second, arms winding around each other to hold your bodies together. Your tears wouldn’t stop flowing, but it didn’t matter. You were there, having finally gotten everything you ever wanted. After so long, it felt like the vacancy in your heart had finally been filled.
You felt whole again. And you know without a shred of doubt, that your husband felt exactly the same way.
YOU ARE READING
Hate to love you
FanficWhile on her death bed, Y/N's mother has just one wish; her daughter to be married and settled in her life. It's something her mother has never stopped pestering her about. But up until now, Y/N had managed to not give into her family's traditions o...
