December 25th, 2027

Well then, tell me what's so important about today's date!

Bucky didn't know what to make of any of the information he had just consumed. He had read multiple sites, multiple accounts, read and reread files. He had even found some of the video broadcasts that had been documented of Wanda's perfect life in Westview. She was married, to Vision of course, but a Vision that worked at a desk and had a mop of blonde hair, and had two twin boys, Billy and Tommy. They looked semi like her; button nose, dark hair. One moment they had been infants, the next moment, young teens.

But it hadn't been so perfect.

She'd accidently controlled the town, a population of people enslaved to her will, and she didn't even know it.

Originally.

But then when she did find out what she was doing, and was approached by SWORD, she'd threatened them. Told them to leave her and her family alone or there would be consequences.

It's such an opposite of the woman he knows, the Wanda in the files seemed like a stranger to him.

And then there was the matter of Vision. After dismembering him, they put him back together but it wasn't him. It was a new, sleeker and colder version of the synthazoid they all had known. And apparently he was still out there, doing god knows what.

Bucky thinks about the files all day.

She hadn't known she was hurting the people, right? And ultimately, she let them go, been apologetic as hell. Had ostracized herself, and accepted that she could not have her family.

Bucky is due to leave the day after Christmas, but be back in time for new years. Something about old hydra tech that had been dug up in Arizona. He debates asking to be postponed, for them to send someone else. He broaches the topic with her as she cooks Christmas eve dinner.

"I might apply for an extension."

She doesn't stop her movement, stirring the contents with several bowls as she flicks her wrist. Moving her fingers, the stove turns on by itself.

"For what?" She questions, opening the fridge. He shrugs, leaning against the counter, arms crossed.

"Dunno," he drawls. "Thought it might be nice to spend new years with ya." Her gaze shifts from the fridge to him, giving him a side glance.

"New Years?" Reaching inside, she grabs the milk carton, closing the fridge with a flick of her wrist. "That's hardly an important holiday."

He rolls his eyes. "It doesn't have to be an important holiday for me to want to spend time with you."

She's blushing, unscrewing the lid on the carton as he gives her one of his charmer smiles.

"You're too smooth, soldier," she laughs, pouring in the milk. He strides up behind her, arms looping around her waist and rests his cheek atop her hair. "It's ok, go work. I'll be waiting when you get home."

He could forgive Westview. What he couldn't do was give her up. He had questions, concerns that maybe he wasn't enough for her, but as he inhaled her shampoo, he swallowed his despues.

"How long does that have to be in the oven for?" He asks, dropping his arms so she can move. Picking up two trays, she juts her chin, and the oven door flops open with a clange.

"Mmmm this one for about an hour, and this one for about an hour and forty." She says, peering at the recipe she'd scribbled on the notepad that laid open. "and then the potatoes can stay in as long as they want."

Bucky wasn't sure that was how cooking worked, but he chuckled, watching her slide the trays into the oven, closing the lid with a kick of her heel.

She dusts her hands off on her jeans, giving him a broad smile. "Best Christmas dinner coming right up."

Walking slowly, bucky takes her chin in-between his fingers. "Happiness looks beautiful on you, sweetheart." She beams, brows raised. "I know I can't give you much but I hope you know how much I value everything you give me."

And then he kisses her. Kisses her the way her husband would have if he were alive, making her remember how precious she is.

"I'm sorry Vision isn't here," Bucky whispers, leaning his forehead against hers. Her breath catches, the arms that are wrapped around his neck stiffening. "but he would be so proud of you."

She doesn't respond, only connects their mouths, hoping it can convey everything she doesn't know how to verbalize. She doesn't stop, pushing him against the counter and raising on the balls of her feet, kissing him senseless.

Hands under her ass, he picks her up, and her legs wrap around his waist instantly as he walks them to her room, their lips never parting.

Laying her on the bed, he begins to gently strip her of her clothing.

Unzipping her hoodie, he pushes it off her shoulders, creamy skin decorated with light freckles showing, and then her shirt. He adores the fact that she hates bras. Pulling at her pants he lifts her feet, dropping down to pull the pants away and fuck does she looks gorgeous.

As he slides off her panties, his eyes lock on hers, watching her become increasingly frustrated, grinning. It's one of his favorite things to conjure in his mind when he sleeps away from her; the face she makes as she waits for him to take her.

He bends, pressing slow kisses to her outer thigh. One by her knee, then moving up and pressing another, her tongue flicking slowly. She's whining, her fists clenching at the sheets, and his pride prickles as she groans from just his kisses.

He moves up to her hip bone, pressing a light kiss and her hand flies to his hair, pulling in urgency.

"Bucky," she gasps, eyes hooded. "Please, please."

"Please what?" He says softly, and kisses her hip again. He moves his head down, and in one movement places a sloppy kiss against her cunt. She arches immediately, whining louder when he pulls away.

Creating marks on her was easily one of his favorite things; it showed his claim to her, that she belonged with him in all aspects. He kisses the skin beneath her breasts, biting, and her cheeks flush.

Moving his mouth to the side, he twists his tongue around her nipple, and she's breathing hard, hands cupping the back of his head, holding him to her. Scooting to the other breast, he continues his assault, moving up to her face, leaving marks in varying sizes in his wake.

"Don't tease me," she sighs as he bends to kiss her. He tweaks one nipple between his fingers. "Please, not tonight. I just need you."

And because its their first Christmas together, he gives in. He halts his teasing, placing a kiss to her cheek before standing, slipping his shoes off as he watches her watch him. She slows her exhales as his shirt comes off, his hands moving to his belt and undoing the buckle. It clangs to the floor, pulling his trousers down with ease.

When he's finally naked, he pushes her knees apart, crawling between and slotting himself there. Her legs wrap around him, arms reaching and hands searching.

Moving them up the bed, he kisses her nose, her cheek, the edge of her jaw. She kisses him, her lips moving softly against his, and when he enters her he moves slowly, wanting to savor the feeling of her around him.

She gasps and as he bottoms out she releases the smallest sigh. Forehead against hers, he grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers with one hand and holding her hip with the other. He places their hands by her face, leaning up slowly so he can watch her.

Bucky begins moving, a slow pump as she adjusts to him. Her brows are raised, breathing rigid, and while he isn't moving at an insane pace, its intense. This isn't a quick fuck, or a race to cumming; its sensual, different then anytime before.

Her heels dig into his backside, encouraging him on and he quickens his movements, still watching her face. Its quicker now, and she gasps as her headboard slams into the wall. His lungs burn but he just has to kiss her, so he strains his neck, catching her lips. Her tongue swipes into his mouth, her loose hand wracking through his hair.

With his freehand he pushes her leg up higher, getting a newer, deeper access, and she moans against his mouth, the sound sending shivers to his spine. His cock is slamming into her spot, making her nails dig into his skin, creating marks of her own.

"You're doing so well sweetheart," he mumbles, releasing her mouth. Her lips are puckered from the pressure. "So so well."

She's clamping around him, her eyes rolling and he has to concentrate on not coming. Ladies first after all.

Panting, his head drops to her shoulder, and he bites lightly on her neck. She flutters again, this time her heels digging in harder, and as she cums he smiles into her skin.

He feels the words bubbling, fighting internally if he wants to open his mouth; but when he pulls his face back, eyes connecting with hers as he finishes, he's never been more certain.

"I love you. Fuck, I love you Wanda, so much."

The words slip from his mouth, coating them in a sense of finality, and her eyes grow wide, lips parting. She slams her lips on his, hands locked behind his head making his neck crane but it doesn't matter, because he needs to kiss her.

He slumps slightly, leaning his weight onto her as he gasps for air.

He's never been in love before, but he's absolutely certain this is how it's supposed to feel. He's loved her for months, it had taken him a while to realize it but here they were. He's told her, and she's still in his arms.

They're breathing hard, attempting to catch their breath, relishing in the post-sex euphoria thats settling in their bones. He slides out of her, laying to her left and she turns, facing him, and scoots closer.

The change in the air is palpable. A new door to their relationship has been opened, and it's full of endless possibilities, some good and some bad. He's terrified, but mostly relieved; he loves her and she knows.

Breathing out of his nose, he drops his arm over her side, fingers rubbing up and down her back lightly. She smiles at him, staring, and the urge to sleep suddenly consumes him. He inhales, then gives her a look.

"Did the alarm for the food go off, sweetheart?"

Wanda's face drops and she shoots out of bed, her naked form darting out her bedroom door as Bucky laughs.

He finds her in the kitchen, still naked, as she hurriedly opens the oven with her magic, removing the dishes inside.

"Shit!" She screams. Bucky attempts to hold back another laugh, and hands her one of his shirts that she'd stolen. The trays are mostly crisped, and he dips a fork into the tray of sweet potatoes. The top layer is darkened, but the inside is a lovely orange as he blows on it.

"I fucking ruined it." She wails, slipping the top over her head. He rolls his eyes, and takes a bite. It was hot, but tasted sweet, the Burnt marshmallow on top adding a campfire-esc flavor.

"It tastes amazing," he offers, placing the fork down. "Just a little hot."

They set the table, Bucky plugging in the christmas tree lights and Wanda lighting the candles. She exits the room to dress, and Bucky begins panicking as he pours them each a glass of wine. He still didn't have a present for her. He couldn't just leave to the store now, she'd be just a few minutes. He gives a frustrated groan.

By the time she sits at the table, hes in full panic mode. She serves him quickly, her excitement oozing, and he stares at her hands as she moves, his brows puckered.

He is such a fucking idiot. First he tells her he loves her then he can't even get her a decent gift?

"Whats the matter?" She asks as she reaches for the salt.

"Hmm?" He questions, snapping back to reality. He picks up his fork, dipping it to his plate. "Oh, nothing. This looks amazing."

He can feel her starring, her spoon halfway to her mouth. "What is it."

She poses it as a comment that needs to be matched, not a question that supposes answering, and he lowers his fork. "I...couldn't find you a gift." He murmurs, eyes downcast.

She takes a bite of her food, chewing as she waits for him to continue. His face is burning, and he looks at her helplessly.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I just. You want this perfect christmas and I couldn't even find a fucking present."

Wanda giggles. His head snaps up, narrowing his eyes. She's laughing, her head shaking slightly as she picks up her bread roll. "I burn nearly all our food and you're worried about a gift?" She laughs, eyes crinkled at the corners. "Just eat up, soldier. I have your gift and I want to give it to you after we eat."

His stomach pools with dread as she clears the dishes, placing the uneaten items in plastic containers and blowing out the candles. After clearing the table, she cleans the kitchen, her wrists flicking, and Bucky places the cleaned plates into her cupboard.

Its a domestic act, a civilized notion that they do the dishes and clean up together, but he cherishes it.

After they've finished, Wanda tugs him into the living room. Its well after seven now, the sun already dipping past the horizon line, and they settle in front of the christmas tree in the low-lit room.

"Alright, close your eyes." She says, and his nerves spike but he does as she says. He hears her move, and her knee bumps his as they're both cross legged. "Open." Taking a breath, he opens his eyes.

She's sitting before him, hands clenched in her lap and she's smiling. He looks from her hands to her face, smiling nervously.

She returns a similar smile, ducking her face. "Its me, silly." Her voice drops to a whisper, and she begins wringing her hands. "I'm...the gift. It sounds stupid out loud but...I-I am in..."

Her voice catches, and she takes a breath. "I'm in love with you."

The words come out in a rush, and she can't meet his eyes. "I love you, James."

He kisses her, and she laughs against his lips. Hand on her jaw, she sighs, scooting closer until she's straddling him, arms around his neck.

She loves him back. Jot this down as his best Christmas to ever fucking exist.

Cupping her cheeks he breaks the kiss, bumping her nose with his own. "I'm still sorry I couldn't find you a gift."

She smiles, biting her lip, one hand on his cheek. "You're the best gift I could ever ask for." Her eyes dim, casting downward. "I don't deserve you, Bucky." She wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders, crushing him to her.

"You deserve so much better," he whispers into her hair. "and I'll try my damnedest to be just that."