Steve Rogers Imagines

A Very Merry Christmas #3

Lesson of the day: Never use a sharpie as an eye liner, never! Am saying this from experience...

P.S: This is the last part and if you guys had not realised it yet, the 3 parts resemble Christmas during 3 different stages of the relationship.
xx

December 24th, 2027

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight."

They all laid cuddled in the confines of your bed, Thatcher laying in the middle of the kids. Their breaths came out in slow puffs of air as they dreamed of sugarplums. Your youngest was cradled to your chest, sleeping soundly as she sucked on her inner cheeks just as her sister. Her pink eyelids moved rapidly as she dreamed in her rest. You stood near the doorway, watching as Steve put down The Night Before Christmas and leaning forward to kiss each of the kids, whispering sweet nothings in their ears. Even Riggins was sleeping soundly at the foot of your bed, near the kids' feet.

"What a lovely Christmas tradition we have," you whispered as Steve walked over to you, kissing Madie on her little nose before pressing a brief kiss to your lips.

"Christmas Eve, kids sleep in our bed while we do all the dirty work, that's how it works."

"Sure is."

And so, the dirty work of making sure everything was absolutely perfect for the kids in the morning began. Loads of wrapping paper was used, tape after tape was stuck onto each gift, ensuring that it'd stay wrapped until the kids came barreling down the stairs. There were a few tired bickers between you and Steve, but mostly the night was full of quiet laughter, crackling fire and twinkling lights, preparing presents, and brief baby feedings.

Before you both knew it, there was a telltale sound of soft feet pattering down the stairs, a baby cooing for her mumma, and the sun barely making an appearance.

"Santa came, Santa came!", the child exclaimed as she barreled down the stairs just as she does every year. Toby followed shortly behind his sister, and Thatcher followed suit, being carried on Steve's hip as he needed a bit of assistance going down the stairs so early in the morning. As soon as he was placed on the floor, he ran after his brother and sister, over to the fireplace where their filled stockings hung from the mantle and their toys from Santa stood underneath each stocking.

"He did come, he did!" Toby ran over to where his stocking hung, a Lego toy set stood about as tall as him.

Ella was already digging through her stocking, her legs straddling her brand new bicycle. Thatcher was playing through his play wooden kitchen, taking orders for his family. Madie was even participating in the holiday spirit, her hand squeezing a small toy left in her stocking as she ate from you happily as you sat on the couch. Steve was off to the side, snapping loads of pictures of the kids as you fed your infant. Giggles and laughter were a constant as each kid found something new in their stocking.

Before long, the chaos of early Christmas had settled down, the kids losing the esteemed excitement they had, replacing it with mere contentment. Madie laid in her vibrating seat, fast asleep with a belly full of milk. You still sat on the couch, watching over the kids. Steve had disappeared moments ago, and you began to question where he was until he came strutting into the room, a wrapped gift in his hand. And instantly, you began to panic, assuming you had forgotten a present.

"Kids!" He called, drawing each of their attention. "Come give Mumma her present," Steve spoke. All the kids that could walk ran over to their daddy, reaching up to help carry the present to you.

"You didn't have to buy me a present, Steve," you looked at him once the kids handed you the wrapped present before kneeling on the floor in front of you.

Steve shrugged, sitting down on the arm of the couch by your side. "Good thing I didn't buy it then."

Your eyebrows furrowed with those words, looking at the kids to see toothy grins spread across their faces.

"Open it, Mumma," Darcy encouraged.

"Yeah, Mumma, open it," Toby repeated after his sister.

And so you did, and you felt your heart melt once you saw what was hidden beneath the wrapping paper.

"Oh my," you started, trailing off with a loss of words.

"I made it. It's a scrapbook of our Christmases together as a family," Steve spoke softly, eyes staying trained on you. "Open it."

And so you did, and on the the very first page sat two pictures of the presents you and Steve got one another on your very first Christmas together. There was a simple caption etched at the bottom in Steve's handwriting, 'I love you.'

"Merry Christmas, baby," Steve whispered, kissing you on the temple. By now the kids were all looking at you and Steve with very wide eyes.

"Merry Christmas, Steve," you whispered back leaning into his touch before looking over at the kids. "And a very merry Christmas to you, my babies," you poke each kid in their belly, eliciting a giggle from each of their lips.

"Merry Christmas, Mumma!" They cheered, and yeah, it was a very merry Christmas