Dog Tags and a Diamond Ring

It was Christmas Eve in 1945, and snow was gently falling outside the window of the small apartment Bucky Barnes shared with his girlfriend, {{user}}. The streets of Brooklyn were alive with the soft hum of holiday cheer—carolers singing, street vendors calling out, the warm glow of lights twinkling from every corner. But in the dim glow of their modest living room, Bucky was far from calm.

He’d spent the last week planning this moment—Christmas Eve, the perfect night to ask the woman he loved to be his wife. His grandmother’s ring had been in his pocket for days, the heirloom tucked inside the soft velvet pouch with careful reverence. It had been passed down through generations, and though Bucky hadn’t quite figured out how he was supposed to fit into the grand tradition, he knew one thing: he wanted to make it perfect for {{user}}.

{{user}}, who’d been his rock during the war, the person who always made him laugh when the world seemed bleak. She was smart, funny, and incredibly kind, and he had known, deep down, that he was going to marry her from the very first time she’d teased him about his inability to hold a tune during the USO dance in which they met.

Tonight was going to be perfect.

“Well, Bucky, this place looks so... cozy.” {{user}} smiled as she stepped into the apartment and removed her scarf. She was wearing a red dress with a small sprig of mistletoe tucked into her hair, the faintest hint of excitement in her eyes.

She had no idea what was coming.

Bucky’s hands were clammy. He was standing by the small Christmas tree he’d painstakingly decorated, looking like he was waiting for the world to swallow him whole.

"Yeah, cozy," he managed with a chuckle. "You know, I thought it’d be a nice, quiet Christmas. Just us."

“You’re nervous,” she said, glancing at him suspiciously. “What are you up to? You never get nervous.”

“I’m fine,” he said, too quickly, and then added, “Yeah, I’m totally fine. Everything’s... it’s just... it’s a surprise.”

She raised an eyebrow, her mouth curling into a playful grin. “A surprise? Bucky Barnes, you’re definitely up to something.”

“Well, I—” He cut off when she turned toward the tree and gasped.

“Bucky! You actually put up a tree?” she asked, hands over her mouth in mock astonishment. “Did you finally realize there’s more to Christmas than just the presents?”

“I thought it was important to have... I don’t know, a bit of Christmas spirit. You know, for the holidays,” he said, trying to sound confident, but his nerves were starting to show.

{{user}} laughed, walking over to the tree to inspect his work. She smiled, touching a few of the crooked ornaments with affection. “It’s perfect. Not much for flair, but I see you’ve got a lot of heart.”

“That’s the idea,” Bucky said, shifting on his feet. His heart was doing somersaults in his chest.

"Okay, well, I’m sure the surprise is under the tree, right?” She started looking around.

“Uh, no,” Bucky said, blushing. “Actually, the surprise is... well, it’s something I was going to—"

Before he could finish, {{user}} turned back, smiling mischievously. “Something you were going to what, Bucky?”

And that was when it happened.

With a panicked cough, he dropped to one knee. It wasn’t graceful or planned—it was sudden and awkward, and definitely not the way he’d rehearsed in his head. In his hand was the velvet pouch. The moment was far from perfect.

“{{user}}...” he said, the words coming out in a rush. “I, uh, I love you, and I’ve loved you since the moment you told me I couldn’t carry a tune—”

“Well, uh, I want to marry you. I’ve got this, uh, this ring.” He opened the pouch with far more force than was necessary, and—clang—out fell the old wedding band onto the floor with a metallic clink and started rolling, disappearing under the couch.

“Oh no, no, no,” he muttered, scrambling around to try and retrieve it, his hands knocking over an old stack of books. “This was... supposed to be the part where I—”

“What?” {{user}} asked, giggling now. “Where you knock over all your stuff and almost lose a ring? Was that part of the plan?”

“No, it’s not! The ring just... went under the couch. Hold on, I—”

Bucky was crawling around on the floor, on all fours, his face redder than the holiday stockings hanging by the window. {{user}}, meanwhile, couldn’t help but laugh. The tension had broken, replaced by the sight of him trying to salvage the situation.

Finally, he sat back on his heels, defeated. “I’m... I’m sorry. This was supposed to be romantic. I was supposed to say something nice, and—”

“You’ve been saying nice things all along,” {{user}} said, kneeling beside him. “And I did tell you I’d say yes if you ever asked.”

“Really?”

She smiled softly. “Really.”

And with that, she kissed him on the cheek, giving him the motivation to reach for the ring again. His hand brushed against the ring under the couch, finally wrapping his fingers around it, and pulling it out like the prize it was.

Bucky’s face immediately lit up. “I... okay. I got it.” He placed the ring in her hand, his voice a little more confident. “{{user}}, will you marry me? I love you more than I can say, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, even if I can’t get a ring to behave right.”