"Children are assholes." You announce as you walk into the compound common room, cradling your little boy in your arms. When you're greeted by looks of pure confusion, you elaborate. "Who the hell tells a six-year-old that Santa isn't real? Just who is that evil?" You hiss as you feel Piet slump against your shoulder, a tale-tell sign that all his wailing has worn him out. When his breathing evened out, you hand Wada her sleeping nephew. You set up a makeshift bed for him on the couch before setting him against the pillows and blankets. "Carl. Carl Evans is that evil." You grunt.
"Y/N? You've lost me. Who is Carl Evans?" Steve asks after pausing the movie everyone had been watching before you had been paged by the daycare downstairs.
"Some ten-year-old twerp who thought it would be a good idea to tell my angel that Santa isn't real. He's been crying for the better part of an hour." You sighed, brushing some hair out of your boy's face. "Christmas is always hard enough as it is, he's the only kid in the daycare who doesn't have two parents. I've been doing this alone since his father died, but now it's been completely ruined."
"How do you figure?" Bucky spoke up from his spot on the couch opposite you. You scoff, the sound coming out more irritated than you'd meant.
"No dad, no Santa. What kid should have to go through that?" After making sure that Piet was adequately secured on the couch next to Wanda, you rose to find a blanket of your own. What you didn't expect was to have a blanket offered to you by the shy sergeant you pined for.
Smiling softly, you thanked him for the blanket before returning to you son's side. "Anyway," you began, "I'm not looking forward to that talk when he wakes up. He's barely gotten a childhood as it is, what with how often I have to leave him with his grandparents for missions. I didn't want him to lose that magic so quickly."
You didn't think anyone could make your heart race anymore after Pietro died. The speedster had charmed your socks off the second he, and his sister ran into you in South Africa, and then continued to once they joined the team for the face off with Ultron. You knew you hadn't had the time to love him, but a night of passion before a suicide mission wasn't out of the question. You and Wanda had comforted each other after his death, and when you learned of your pregnancy, the two of you grew closer as ever. You'd both have a piece of Pietro left after all. You were sure you would never want anyone as much ever again.
But then you had met Bucky.
You missed his initial introduction to the team as you were off on maternity leave, missing the battle of the Accords once you'd found out you were pregnant. It was another three years before things calmed down enough for him and Steve to return, having struck a truce with Tony. When they first stepped into the compound, and you met Bucky's eyes, you swore you could feel time stop. And then he picked up your infant son and Piet took to him right away.
You'd been smitten with him ever since.
You're so absorbed in cuddling your baby boy that you don't see the way Bucky's brow furrows.
"He doesn't have to." He speaks up. "Tell him Santa is real. He doesn't have to grow up so quick." At that, all the adults nod, knowing exactly what it was like to be forced to grow up all too quickly. You smile, a broken gesture that doesn't quite reach your eyes.
"He'll only want to wait in front of the fireplace." You chuckle, then resign. "I suppose I could bring the presents out when he falls asleep. I just hope me moving doesn't wake him up." You sigh, glancing at the tree and how far it was from the chimney. There was no way he was going to believe you.
"Leave that to me, doll." Bucky offers. "He'll never know I was there."
"C'mon, baby!" You cry, chasing your half-dressed son around the living room. He was so fast for such a little thing. Gee, Thanks, Pietro. "If you don't go to sleep soon, Santa will skip us!" You warn and just like that, Piet comes skidding right to a halt. Big blue eyes gaze up at you in shock.
"R-really?" You nod at the panicking child, holding up his pajama pants that he needs to put on. Without another word, he snatches them out of your hands before sliding them on and into the make-shift bed he demanded you make in front of the fireplace. "Come wait with me, Mommy!" He exclaims, patting the spot next to him.
"Alright, alright Piet. I'm comin'." You sigh heavily, finding your way to the couch. You've barely sat down when tiny fingers find yours and a small frame hugs your own.
"Goodnight mommy!" He announces loudly, head falling into the pillow he's placed on your lap. And there he is, the child who had just been terrorizing your teammates all night, completely dead asleep. A laugh bubbles up at the sight, and before you know it, you've dozed off against the couch as well.
You're not quite sure what wakes you up, but the second you do, your body is on full alert. You peek an eye open, assessing the situation when you feel cool metal fingers brush your shoulder.
"Shh, doll. You'll wake him. Just go back to sleep." You relax considerably at the sound of Bucky's voice behind you, though you can't see him. Nodding silently, you close your eyes once more but don't quite find sleep right away.
Somewhere in front of you, Bucky sets down the bag of presents none too quietly. You flinch at the sound, knowing exactly what's coming.
At your side, the feisty child stirs at the sound, and you brace yourself and begin thinking of how you're going to explain why Bucky is the one putting presents under the team's tree and not Santa.
Only, when you open your eyes, it isn't Bucky that you see.
Instead, you find yourself staring at a man in a tight red and white suit, bent at the waist as he takes presents out of his large velvet sack. Your eyes widen as you take the sight in, jaw dropping as you find the wig and beard Bucky's sporting. White gloves cover his hands, masking the metal fingers below the material. The coat is just the right tightness across his broad chest, as are the pants across his muscular thighs and your mouth waters.
You can't help but muse that he would make one hell of a silver fox.
"Santa?" The small voice beside you questions. You find yourself holding your breath as Bucky glances back at your son and you can just see him smiling behind his fake white mustache.
"Little Piet!" He exclaims, holding arms out. Without hesitation, Piet rockets off the couch and into 'Santa's' arms. "You've gotten so big! Were you a good boy this year?"
"But Carl said you weren't real!" Piet cries as he glances around the living room. Beside the fireplace, cookies are crumbled or eaten, the milk is half empty, and some ash has even been kicked out of the fireplace.
Oh, he's good.
"You want to know a secret?" Bucky whispers. Piet nods violently. "Carl's on the naughty list." A loud gasp escapes your son as he covers his mouth.
"I knew it!"
"Now whaddya say you help me put your presents under the tree?" Bucky offers, opening Santa's sack once more. Piet doesn't even answer before he's digging into the bag, putting it underneath the tree. You're rooted where you are, no voice to be found, as you watch your favorite guys make Christmas.
The curious little tyke pulls present after present out of the bag, asking questions such as how Santa gets his reindeer, and how he travels around the world in just one night. He even asks why Santa isn't big and round like he's always seen, to which Bucky simply replies that carrying toys for the whole world around will give you muscles like you can't believe!
"Santa?" The small voice asks.
"Yes, Piet?"
"This one says to Y/N! Did you get a present for mommy?"
Your eyes snap to the small box in your son's hands then cast a questioning glance at the super soldier.
"I sure did, squirt."
"That's awesome! Mommy never gets presents from you! Why is that?" Finally, you remind Piet that you're still right there.
"Mommy doesn't need any presents, Pietty. She's got you!" You explain, not having the heart to tell him that Santa never gives you presents because you've been forced to play Santa alone all these years. You always seemed to forget about yourself, just aiming to give your son the best Christmas you can.
"Aww, mom that's no fun! Presents are awesome!" You chuckled as he brought the present over to you. "Can she open it now, Santa?"
"She sure can." Your eyes find Bucky's in thanks, and before you realize what you're doing, you're tearing into the wrapping paper. When you pop the lid off, a gasp escapes your lips, then a giggle.
"Thanks, Santa." You say with a wink, rising to your feet. "I know just where to put this."
Jogging off to the junk drawer in the kitchen, you find some tape to secure your gift. You hang it in the doorway carefully, nodding in satisfaction as you step back to look at your handy work.
"Perfect." You muse as you hear footsteps approaching. "Pietty, come here and give mommy a kiss!" You cry with wide open arms. Across the room, your son gags, shakes his head, and returns to unloading the insane amount of presents for all the Avengers. "What about you, Santa? Want to help me break in my gift?" You ask with a wink.
His low chuckle sends shivers down your spine.
"I thought you'd never ask, Doll."
You find yourself shifting nervously on your feets as the massive man rises to his. It only takes a few seconds for him to reach you, but as your heart hammers in your ears, it feels like a lifetime. One cold hand wraps around your waist as a warm hand cups your cheek and your fingers thread through the snow white wig.
The beard tickles as his lips meet yours, his chuckle reverberating through your entire body. Your skin sings and your heart gallops and Christ, this is the first time you've been kissed in seven years! Your lips part as his tongue swipes over them and the two of you melt into a perfect rhythm that has both of you sighing into each other's mouths. He feels as perfect against you as you had imagined and you wish you could stay there forever. But as your son pipes up, you know you can't.
"Santa!" He chastises as the two of you pull away. "What would Mrs. Clause say?" Both you and Bucky bark out laughter as you take in his scandalized face.
"Well, who would I be to deny a Christmas tradition, Piet?" Seemingly satisfied with this logic, your son nods and turns back to the presents.
"I'm all done!" He announces proudly as you scoop him up in your arms.
"And what a good job you've done!" He giggles at your praises, twisting in protest as you tickle his tummy. "The team is going to love this, baby." He beams at the praise.
Behind you, Bucky begins to gather up his bag.
"Thank you for all your help, Piet! But I've got to run-"
"Oh!" He blurts suddenly, stopping Bucky in his tracks. "Santa, wait!" You let the wiggling child down, and the second his feet touch the floor, he's bolting at Santa who hikes him up in his arms as if it were nothing. "I forgot to ask for something." He explains before leaning in to whisper in his ear.
You swear you can see Bucky blushing beneath all that white hair.
"I-I think I can manage that." Bucky manages with a stutter before sending Piet back your way. "Now you be good for your mother!" He instructs, making his way over to the fireplace. Taking this as your cue to leave, you start to drag your son back to your rooms before he stops dead.
"Mom!" He says, "I want to see Santa go up the chimney!" Oh shit. You look up to Bucky, hoping beyond hope that he's got a way out of this, but he simply smiles back at you.
"It's alright, Y/N. He's been the perfect little elf. Why not let him see some magic?" And with a wink, he's squeezing his giant frame into the chimney and vanishes before your very eyes.
You're left standing as slack-jawed as your son as you both stare at where Santa had been just seconds ago.
"Just wait until Carl hears about this!"
Christmas morning in the Avengers compound is no joke.
Sam makes french toast, Natasha makes hot chocolate, Tony records everything, and Scott brings Cassie over. The second she arrives, Piet drags her over to the blankets that have been set out in front of the tree to tell her all about his night.
Taking probably the only window you'll get while he's distracted, you saddle up beside Bucky.
"Morning, Mr. Clause." You're gifted with a blinding smile of perfect white teeth.
"Mornin', Doll. How'd you sleep?"
"Not a wink." You admitted with a smirk. "See, this amazing man came down my chimney last night - and no, that is not a euphemism - and I spent all night wondering just how he did it!"
"You mean my exit?" He asks, leaning his weight on the counter beside you. "I may or may not have had Tony set up a little something." He explains with a smirk. "Piet's a curious kid. There was no way he way he was going to see Santa and then leave before seeing him go up the chimney."
The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them.
"You are a wonderful, wonderful man, James Barnes." You both blush at that, clearing your throats as you part.
"Well, uh...we should get to the living room. Piet's going to want to start soon." He mumbles before turning on his heel.
"Oh, wait, Buck!" You call after him. "What did Piet ask for before you left?" And with that, you're left breathless at the sight of another perfect smile.
"You'll see, Doll."
Before you can press any further, the team files into the living room and calls out for you to join.
Presents are passed around, Cassie and Piet taking it upon themselves to run the gifts back and forth, claiming they're Santa's little helpers. Bucky chuckles at this but doesn't dare elaborate why. Finally, when all the presents are gone, Bucky stands and makes his way to the kitchen. Beside you, Piet looks sorely disappointed.
"What's wrong, baby?"
"Santa didn't forget, did he?"
"Forget what?"
"Hey Doll, could you come here for a second?" Bucky beckons. Telling your son you'll be right back, you make your way over to where he calls you.
However, you don't quite make it. Instead, he drapes his massive body against the doorway, effectively rooting you right where you stand. Right underneath the mistletoe.
His hands are on you in a flash, cradling you the way they had last night as his lips glide over yours. The world melts away as you melt into the kiss that has your heart fluttering and your toes curling. "Will you be my girl?" Behind you, several of your teammates cheer and your son squeals as you nod like a crazy person.
"He did it! Santa really did it!"
"Did what, sweetheart?" You ask, breathless.
"I told Santa I see the way you smile at Bucky and asked him for you to be together!" He cheers, jumping up and down.
After that, Christmas is no longer a chore to tackle on your own, and with your man by your side it becomes incredibly special to you.
The next 365 days are spent in Bucky's arms, company, and bed. Piet latches onto him like never before, and the three of you become inseparable. He treats you like a queen and treats your son as if he were his very own, and every day you fall a little more in love with the man.
Exactly a year from the day he asks you to be his, Bucky takes a knee, and asks you to be his wife. He even has a proposal for your son, telling you both that he loves you more than anything else in the world.
As the three of you agree to officially become a family, Piet screeches in joy.
"I got a daddy for Christmas!"
The next Christmas, Piet gets a baby sister.
And as the three of you gazed at little Peggy Barnes, you weren't sure who was the most excited. That is until Bucky held her in his arms for the first time. Beside him, Piet's eyes lit up like Christmas lights as her tiny little fingers grasped at his and she cooed happily.
"Merry Christmas, James."
You nestle into his side, pressing a kiss to each of your children's heads, then Bucky's cheek.
"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Barnes."