Bucky Barnes Christmas Novels & Stories

"I'm back with Taren." Taren extended his hand. "It's nice to see you again." "The pleasure is mine," Mr. Cummings replied, shaking his hand. "What can I do for you today?" Taren glanced over at Kiki and then turned back to the man who looked so much like Santa Claus. "Christmas presents." "Christmas is over," he replied. Taren nodded, his lips curling into a smile. "Yes, but we didn't get to celebrate properly, so we're going to make up for it tonight."

"What's so wrong with Christmas, Mr. Scrooge?" I take a swig of my beer, finishing the rest of the bottle, and shrug my shoulders. "There's nothing wrong with Christmas. I just looked at it differently I guess. When I was little, I was a weird kid. All my friends would be so excited for Christmas and they all told me how they stayed up late so that they could meet Santa, but not me. Nope, I stayed awake to try and capture the creep sneaking into my house once a year." As soon as I finish that sentence, a roar of laughter emits from all three of them.

Years and years of memories came flooding back, along with the tears she couldn't control. The heavy banging on the back door jarred her out of her misery. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater and went to open the door. A huge evergreen filled the doorway, blocking everything else out. What on earth? "Is there someone behind there?" she asked. A hand separated branches and Zach's face peeked out at her. "I got this yesterday at Merriman's Tree Farm," he told her. "I've had it in a bucket out in the barn until you got here. I know how important Christmas is to you and I figured without your folks this year, well..."

Sable Christmas Eve settled over the clubhouse louder than any holiday had a right to. Someone had dragged in a cedar that looked like it had been bullied out of the desert and forced into seasonal participation, and now it stood in the corner of the common room sagging beneath mismatched ornaments, colored lights, and enough tinsel to qualify as a fire hazard. Bryce had declared the crooked angel on top “punk rock,” which earned him a threat from Hannah involving a serving spoon and his kneecaps. Charlie laughed so hard she nearly dropped a tray of cookies, and half the men in the room pretended they weren’t enjoying the whole thing as much as they were.

I asked as I curled up in James’s lap “Not putting up Christmas decorations till after the 1st of December” “Ok guys we have prom before Christmas”

Ray sings. “There is just one thing I need.” I join. “I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree,” Jordan sings while we stay quiet. “I just want you for my own,” I say. “More than you could ever know.” Ray sings, gazing at me. “Make my wish come true,” Jordan says, looking at me. Eyes on the road, please. “All I want for Christmas is you.” We all chorus, pointing to one another. In no time, we see the Bakers’ gigantic estate gate bars, all covered with literally uncountable strands of twinkle lights. As we drive in, we feed our eyes with the Christmas decorations from different angles of the estate.

Gwen's POV It was two days to Christmas and I was back at Andrew's farmhouse. Andrew, however, had not been discharged from the hospital yet until later that evening. Jake was apprehended by the FBI and placed in their custody. He was yet to make any confession on who his accomplice was even though I knew without any doubt that it was Rickard. In the Christmas spirit, I became preoccupied with decorating the Christmas tree and wrapping presents for my boys. They enjoyed Christmas because everything was colorful and they received new gifts.

“Remember in seventh grade when I asked you out, and you told me ‘not even if you were the last boy in Mississippi’?” She groaned, hiding her face. “Let it go.” “Never. That was my villain origin story.” “You’re insufferable.” “You love it.” She smiled up at him. “Yeah. I really do.” Christmas Eve was loud and messy and perfect. Harper’s house was packed with extended family—her cousins screaming over board games, someone burning the dinner rolls, off-key caroling and someone’s aunt insisting everyone wear reindeer ears for a group photo. Jaxon fit in like he always had. He helped Harper’s dad in the

I stand alone on the icy field, turning back every few minutes to look at the road behind me. When my hands grow numb from the cold, I scroll my social media feed and see a recent post from my younger sister, Giada Soave. Holding gifts in her arms, she sits beneath a luxurious crystal Christmas tree with my parents embracing her from both sides. Ivano stands behind her with his hand resting lightly at her waist and his eyes full of tenderness. The caption reads, "Merry Christmas, I'm grateful to spend the holiday with those who love me most!" The comments section buzzes with blessings, praise, and envious messages.

A pink one with Daddy’s girl on it? “We can go tomorrow, get some gifts for your family and friends. We could decorate the big tree outside with lights and put gifts under it on Christmas Eve! That'll be so cool.” I love my idea, and it seems Jaxon does too because he smiles—or rather smirks at the idea. He drops the baby blue cashmere sweater, pair of denim jeans, and white beanie he picked out for me on the bed before coming to sit beside me again. He holds one side of my jaw, eyes burning into mine as he lets out a heavy breath.