#Bucky Barnes x SE Asian reader

[tocastielandback]

Head first, no regrets

Lifeguard!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!SE Asian!F

[tocastielandback]

Welcome Home, Soldier [Part 1]

Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size SE Asian F!OC

Word Count: 1768

Description: Everyone knows that charming sergeant from Brooklyn could have any woman on his arm, yet he chose the nurse who was a black sheep in every way. Will one mission end their unlikely romance?

Author’s Note: It's finally here! Pretty sure this is the longest fic I've ever written to date. Currently, the first two parts are done. I think I'll post the second and third together once it's completely finished.

***Update (2/4/22): I've been noticing that the beginning keeps getting cut off and a line keeps repeating even though I've fixed it once before. I've edited it again, but if it still happens, give me a heads up and I'll figure something out.

Warnings: angst, fluff, implied racially motivated attack, insecurity, self-hate, cursing, eventual smut

Tags: @mysoftboybensolo, @maria-chwan, @lokiskitten, @caffeinated-fan

*** If anyone wants to be tagged, just leave a comment or dm me!

I do not consent to my work being copied, translated or reposted on another website.

Amelie waited with the crowd at New York Harbor. Sunlight reflected off the compact mirrors held by sweethearts doing last-minute makeup checks. Children bounced gleefully on their feet, asking their parents when the ship was coming.

“Soon, Johnny,” she overheard a mother tell her little boy.

“Look! Right on the horizon!” a man from another family pointed out a speck in the distance.

Amelie’s eyes followed everyone else’s, her heart thumped, threatening to punch a hole right through her chest.

She basked in the onlookers’ anticipation… but she shouldn’t.

This is ridiculous, Amelie told herself. There’s no way he’s on that vessel.

Not after what happened in Austria.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes was initially presumed dead after he had fallen into a ravine from a train during a mission with the Howling Commandos.

She was surrounded by the wounded and the dead alike. The bleakness of war never let up when men—who were in perfect health and determined to fight to the end—returned from behind enemy lines with lost limbs, major blood loss and battle fatigue.

But this was her Bucky.

She couldn’t recall much about the day she found out. One thing she did know was the weight of the news dropped onto her worn form as she entered her sleeping quarters.

He was gone. He was really gone.

She sat on the floor, taking with her the bundle of letters he had written her over the course of their training at Camp McCoy.

Amelie hugged the envelopes to her heart, her anguish finally washed over her like a tsunami as she wept.

She did this for two or three nights until Captain Rogers paid her a visit.

“He survived,” Steve simply said.

Amelie’s brows furrowed, lips parted, then came together slightly. But the words weren’t coming together.

The Captain nodded, giving a smile that was barely there. “I know. I was shocked, too.”

“H-How?” she asked.

It was impossible. She had to be dreaming.

He couldn’t divulge much; just that Bucky surpassed the amount of time doctors  expected him to live.

One hundred and fifty foot drop. Survived.

For the remainder of the war, she held onto his words. She had to.

Not only because she held out hope, but because Steve was his brother-in-arms,  his best friend even before the war. He was there when it happened.

That was 8 months ago.

Her heart wanted to believe she would get to see the man she loved again. That she could hear his honey-dripped Brooklyn drawl and lose herself in those pale blue eyes.

Her mind knew it was wishful thinking. He may have lived, but not for long. No one would from a fall that high.

Steve’s lack of updates didn’t help either. Amelie suspected he found himself in hot water for revealing details of the mission to someone not cleared by the SSR. Or he was just busy with whatever else they had him do.

Now, as the ship neared the dock, all faith she had was being chipped away like a sculptor’s medium under a chisel and hammer.

There’s no way, there’s no way.

Amelie sat on one of the newly-cleared benches by the railings. She was the only one there now, a cruel foretelling of her solo trip to a seedy New York motel.

She pulled the flap of her WAC-issued purse up and dug through her stuff until she felt the stack of envelopes tied together at the bottom.

Twiddling the twine between her thumb and index finger, she meditated on their relationship.

Bucky was the only man who saw her as a person. Hell, he was the only man who saw her, period.

The fool she was, Amelie quickly fell for his charm. She was an ugly duckling in a sea of swans. But he was always kind to her, even when other people were around.

This intrigued her.

They met on a cool, December night in England when they were alone.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” Bucky’s brows knit under the visor of his cap.

Amelie nodded, but her body said otherwise.

She took in some air and slowly released it through her nose.

How would she be able to help the men if it took this much effort to come down from anxiety-inducing interactions?

Despite his presence acting as a safety net he so generously spread out for her, she thought it wise to not take the plunge.

“I’m not even Japanese…” Amelie mumbled to herself, repeating what she’d told the drunkard harassing her.

“Hey…” Bucky took her hand and helped her back on her feet. “Don’t listen to him.”

When they stood face-to-face, he continued, “Japanese or not, you don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

God, how she wanted to unload her woes to this man. How much she hated sticking out in the worst ways possible. The mounting pressures of having to prove herself that she was as capable as the white nurses. The feelings of being small, despite having a larger body.

But as she was so used to doing, she bit her tongue. No need to scare away the only man who has shown her the least bit of decency.

“Let me walk you back,” Bucky said, referring to the nurses’ compound.

She took him up on the offer.

He got her there with no further run-ins. She thanked him, bade him a good night and headed for her bunk.

“If you ever run into trouble, come find me, okay?” he looked after her with hopeful eyes.

He could have easily disregarded her the following day. He could’ve been drunk himself, because who the hell would care about her wellbeing?

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Amelie said to the person she almost bumped her tray into.

Normally, she made brief eye contact and diverted her gaze in a matter of seconds, but she gawked when she was met with a pair of steel blue eyes.

“Whoa, no need to rush. The eggs aren’t gonna jump off your plate,” Bucky teased, bringing a bashful grin to her face.

“No, I suppose they won’t,” she laughed a little.

He licked his lips and his playful demeanor was swapped with one of a softer nature.

“You feel any better this morning?” he wondered, lowering his own tray to his stomach.

Her jaw dropped. “Uh… I am, yeah.”

She probably looked like a lost child. She definitely felt like one.

“Good. I’m glad,” Bucky was the one pausing now, his stare remaining on the short woman in front of him.

He snapped out of it, rubbing the back of his neck slightly as if to diffuse an itch.

“I’ll see you around, then,” he gave her a small smile and followed the rest of the men who were ridding themselves of their dirty dishes before exiting the mess hall.

Amelie felt the butterflies in her stomach left in his wake, immobilizing her.

He treated every woman the same, but he wasn’t flirty with her.

Amelie took this as a reminder of her reality: good enough to be friends with, not enough to be loved.

Not attractive enough, not fun, not interesting. Certainly not someone who hung the moon.

Then he asked her out on a date. She knew this could only mean one thing: a joke. Either he would humiliate her himself or he’d let some of the men from his regiment in on the fun. That was, if he showed at all.

With this in mind, Amelie stayed vigilant. Much to her burdened relief, he did end up meeting with her at the time they agreed upon.

All around her were men in shades of green, khaki, black and blue.

Locals were few and far between.

Now the chances of catching his friends off-guard were slim.

It was probably why he picked this restaurant in the first place, she thought while rubbing her knuckles. Bucky Barnes had the looks and the brains.

“Amelie?”

Though not sharp in tone, his voice was like a needle, bursting the metaphorical balloon filling rapidly with her paranoid thinking.

“Hm?” Amelie turned her attention back to her date and stopped moving her hand, crossing it over the other laid out on the table.

“You… expecting someone?” Bucky’s brow quirked, a smirk playing on his lips.

God, those lips.

“N-No, of course not,” she shifted in her spot on the booth. “Why, are you?”

Stupid, stupid, stupid, she chided herself mentally.

Now that smirk was a full-blown smile. The corners of his eyes crinkled and, between two rows of perfect white teeth a laugh emerged.

“‘Course not. Just you and I tonight,” Bucky said.

Amelie blushed.

He had the cutest laugh. Not only that, but she caused it. Her.

“It’s… my first date,” she admitted.

Technically, it was true. It was certainly better than ‘I’m looking to stop your friends from pouring water on my head or whatever you have planned to make sure I never go on a date ever again.’

“I know,” she hastily added. “I’m 25 and never went on a date. Lame, right?”

To take the edge off her confession, she forced a tight-lipped smile and dropped her eyes on the reflection of the overhead light on the table.

“Nothing wrong with that,” he reassured. “Just the boys who couldn’t see what a pretty dame you are.”

“Bucky—“

The server approached their table and set down a small portion of bread with some oleo on the side.

Bucky gave a quick, but polite thank-you before turning back to a blushing Amelie.

No man has ever thought such things about her. No man who was courteous, anyway, nor genuine.

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” she shook her head and opted to take a sip of water, not wanting to be the first to eat.

She eyed his beer bottle. It was almost finished.

“Who do I look like, right now, Hedy Lemarr?” Amelie half-joked and drank again.

Catching on to her self-inflicted insult, his smile faltered. His hands had broken a piece of bread in two.

“I see Amelie Mendez. So beautiful, but also the sweetest and best Army nurse I’ve ever met.”

She pulled her glass away and coughed on her balled-up fist. “Bucky, that’s—“

He looked at her expectantly but not in a way that was demanding a response immediately.

“That’s… really nice of you,” she blinked.

Was she really about to cry on her first date?

He picked up his knife and spread the butter substitute on one of the slices.

“I’m not just saying that, either. I really mean it, doll.”

[tocastielandback]

The Prince and the Horse (Bucky Barnes x F!reader)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x SE Asian F!reader

Word Count: 1965

Description: When you accidentally break one of your prized possessions, Bucky is here to save the day.

Author’s Note: Okay, so this wasn't gonna be my first Bucky story that I'd post, but I wrote this up after the precursor to a pretty shit weekend last week.

Also, there isn't anything in the story that's particularly SE Asian-specific, just the descriptions of reader. However, I have been working on a 40s Bucky fic with a SE Asian F!OC, where I'll get more into it. Fingers crossed I actually finish and post that!

Warnings: some angst, fluff, brief mentions of therapy (for both reader and Bucky) and mental illness (for reader), self-hating thoughts, not beta'd, converted from an OC's pov

Tags: I don't have any MCU fandom friends other than @lokiskitten so I would like to thank them and @mysoftboybensolo for the support and for letting me cry about Bucky to them :')

You had a virtual meeting with a new psychiatrist the next day, which you planned to have in the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend, Bucky.

You won’t lie: you didn’t declutter your space as often as you should.

Whether or not the pile of books and stuffed animals on your desk chair got taken care of depended on if you needed the workspace.

To ease your anxiety, you started sorting things out.

It’ll take my mind off tomorrow and I won’t have to move things around as much, you thought.

First, you did the desktop, putting away the makeup tools and palettes you left lying around into the drawers underneath so only your laptop, jewelry box and pencil cup remained.

The middle shelf—consisting of a small mirror, your contacts case and your skincare products among other things—was your makeshift vanity. Nothing was too out of place, so you skipped that.

At the top, you had crammed as many books as you possibly could, seeing as there wasn’t much space for a separate bookshelf, well… anywhere.

You eyed the ones on your chair, then the ones propped up in a row over your head.

I think I can fit it all on the shelf. The other stuff I’ll toss in the storage bin in the closet.

Settling on the plan, you began removing the knick-knacks lined up along the paper spines.

Your favorite was the music box placed before your special edition of The Little Mermaid. The body reminded you of a cheese wheel—cylindrical with dull edges. At the center on top was a little castle with a tower, where a princess figure sat.

When one wound up the crank, the mechanism allowed, not only the music to play, but the princess to “emerge” from the castle. A prince, which was on a removable horse, circled the castle.

Because you only kept it as decor, you couldn’t remember what song it played, just that it was German in origin.

With one hand, you held up the remaining books so they didn’t fall flat, while the other went to set the music box on your laptop.

“No!” you shouted when the little horse slid off the box and crashed onto the hardwood floor, sending tiny pieces everywhere.

After putting the base down, you got onto your knees and took the horse in your hands.

“No…” your voice got thick with sadness. “No, no, no, no, no!”

You ran your thumb along the nub where the prince’s head had been. The white horse was missing both its ears. Tears fell onto your cheeks.

A whispered “no!” came from your lips when you found the head.

When you picked it up and brought it to your watery eyes, you cried even more. All, except for two spokes of the golden crown had broken off upon impact.

You sat, your back against the bed and your lip quivered.

You felt dumb. You shouldn’t have been crying about such a thing and yet—

“Doll?” Bucky called from the front door.

You gasped and held back your sobs, hoping he would just think you was still asleep and leave.

He’d seen your cry before. Hell, he was bound to since you were mentally ill. But you didn’t want him to stop his day over something so trivial.

You gulped when you heard footsteps come up the hall, nearing the bedroom.

“Doll?” he said again, but in a lowered voice.

His blue eyes fell to where you were on the floor and he dropped on his knees across from you, his hand cupping your cheek.

“Hey, what happened?” he lowered his head a bit to meet your eyes.

You sniffed, brushing off some black strands that got stuck to your other cheek with the sleeve of your—well, his—sweater.

“God, it’s so stupid…” you hissed, more to yourself, then met his gaze. “W-What did you need me for?”

Bucky smiled softly, his hand dropped from your face to cradle your smaller hand.

“I was on my way to the storage unit, but I forgot the keys, so I was going to ask if you’ve seen them,” he explained.

You grinned, brown eyes focused on how warm his hands felt, encasing yours like a hug.

His therapist talked to him about taking up a hobby he could focus on while recovering. He settled on woodworking, renting out a small garage where he set up shop, making everything from your nightstands to a birdhouse for Sam’s sister and nephews.

“Why were you crying, doll?”

You blinked back from your thoughts and looked up at him shyly. His brows perked slightly when you started telling him.

“So you know how I have to see that new doctor tomorrow? I was, like, trying to clean up a little and get ready, to ease my anxiety and all that. B-But when I was moving that” —you pointed to the music box and held out the prince on the earless steed— “I dropped this and it broke…”

Feeling more tears emerge, you ducked your head, nesting it into the crook of Bucky’s neck when he pulled you into his arms. “I know. It’s a stupid thing to cry over—“

“Hey, don’t say that,” he squinted slightly, as if the words actually stung, and looked down at your tear-stained cheeks.

One of his favorite things about you was your apple cheeks. He loved watching them turn pink whenever he complimented you or when you laughed so hard that your sides hurt. He’d rather they get flushed that way, not from upset.

He continued, “If it makes you cry, it’s important to you.”

You nodded and mustered a tiny smile. It quickly disappeared when you felt an onslaught of tears come again.

“I love you, Bucky. You’re always putting up with my outbursts,” you sniffed.

Keeping you in his embrace, he cupped your cheek with his metal hand, swiping at the wet trail.

“I don’t ‘put up’ with you, doll,” he pecked your hairline before leaning his forehead on yours. “I love you. I want to be here. With you. Through everything. Just like you are with me.”

You parted your lips just a little and pressed them onto his.

He returned the kiss, then left one on the tip of your flat nose, one of many features you hated, but was cute in his eyes. “C’mon. We have to find the parts.”

“Oh…” you watched as he gently set you back down on the floor and got up. “Bucky, I could just look for them myself.”

He pretended to think about it and shook his head. “Uh… no. I want to help.”

“But your project—“

“Can wait,” he squatted in front of you again and held his hand out. “Let me see.”

You smiled and this time, it stayed. A sparkle in your eyes shone with awe at him and you showed him the figurine. “They’re really tiny though.”

He carefully examined it, taking note of what was missing. After putting the horse on your desk, Bucky got low on the floor, almost like a push-up position.

You took to searching the other side of the room. You gasped and picked up one of the spokes of the crown.

“So tell me about this,” he asked while he kept scanning the area. “Where’d you get it? Seems like it means a lot to you.”

“I went on a trip to Hawaii some years ago and at this mall, there was a little stationery shop with cards and stuff like snow globes,” you said. “I saw this and I knew I had to have it. Y’know, since I’m a sucker for fairytales and wanting to be a princess and all that.”

Bucky’s smile got softer. “I do know.”

You felt it childish, but in the years you’ve known each other, he never judged you for it so you felt more comfortable showing him your own stories you wrote or talked about your favorite castles.

“Admittedly, I didn’t play it much, but when I dropped it… it made me wish I had,” you used a jewelry dish to gather the broken pieces you found.

Following half an hour of peeking under all the furniture and feeling around the wood surface beneath you, you managed to find all but one piece.

“We make a pretty good team,” you gave him a shy smile.

“We do,” Bucky agreed, then left the room.

He came back with a resealable bag and emptied the tray’s contents into it.

“I’ll take these with me to the shop,” he slid his pinched fingers across the blue horizontal lines and helped you up.

“What? Bucky, I have a hot glue gun,” you reached for the knob of the middle desk drawer, but he held your other hand to stop you.

“So do I. Besides, it won’t take long.”

You eyed the fallen prince, along with the remnants of him and his noble steed.

While you loved Bucky with all your heart and was endlessly appreciative of his help, you thought about how frustrating it would be to glue pieces of minuscule plastic and wood in equally small spaces. There wasn’t exactly much room for error and the amount of hot glue he’d use would dry up in seconds.

He kissed your head. “I’ve got all day, doll.”

You parted your lips and watched him go, this time, the keys to the storage unit in his jeans back pocket.

Was mind-reading a Super Soldier thing?

—

Everything was cleaned up by the time Bucky returned, pizza box in hand.

“(Y/N)?” he called for his girlfriend.

You in turn awoke on your bed, a throw blanket engulfing your body. “Bucky?”

He set the box down on the dining table and went back to your room. He blushed at the sight of you all curled up. You used the base of your thumb to rub your eye and sat up.

“I got pizza. Your favorite,” he leaned on the doorframe, hands in his pants pockets. “And something else.”

You smoothed your hair on the back of your head down and glanced at the clock.

5:03 p.m.

You turned back to him. “What’s the other thing?”

Your mind was still hazy from your nap. You didn’t even remember what you were doing prior.

“Come see for yourself,” he smirked and got back on both feet, heading to the kitchen.

You blinked away the sleep in your eyes and followed him.

On the table was the pizza box and a small paper bag on top.

“Open it,” Bucky, leaning against the counter, bit back a smile.

You dug your hand into the blue tissue paper, pulling out a white gift box wrapped with twine.

You pulled at one end until the bow came completely undone and you placed the string down.

Upon opening the box, your eyes fully opened and a gasp left your throat.

Inside, cushioned by sheets and rolls of black velvet, was the miniature prince and horse—perfectly intact. So perfect, in fact, it didn’t look broken in the first place.

You went to speak when you observed the horse had both ears now, instead of one.

“I used a chunk from what I was making and just painted it,” he shrugged, a lazy grin plastered on his stubbled face.

“Bucky, it’s beautiful…” you lifted your gaze from the horse to your lover.

You went up to him and leaned over to place the figure on the countertop by the backsplash.

When you went to stand up straight again, he held your hands and kissed you softly.

You parted, leading you to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He held you around the waist and hummed.

“Anything for my babydoll.”

[tocastielandback]

Welcome Home, Soldier [Part 3]

Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size SE Asian F!OC

Word Count: 3489

Description: Amelie and Bucky go home.

Warnings: angst, fluff, description of wounds, mention of blood, body insecurities, self-hate, cursing, Bucky being flirty, pet names (doll, baby doll)

Tags: @mysoftboybensolo, @maria-chwan, @lokiskitten, @caffeinated-fan

*** If anyone wants to be tagged, just leave a comment or dm me!

I do not consent to my work being copied, translated or reposted on another website.

The expression he gave was one she knew. It was how he looked during one of their dates.

Amelie watched the men enjoying their drinks at the tavern across the street. “I’m scared.”

She gulped as she watched a young man with his friends. He was chatting excitedly, the light in his eyes still bright with life.

Replacements.

It broke her heart knowing it was only a matter of time until she would see one of them covered in blood and dirt, groaning in pain from an injury, calling for his mother.

“Me, too,” Bucky replied.

She glanced at her hand, the back of which was warm from his.

“I’m scared that I won’t make it through this… that—“ his voice got low. “That I’ll never see my family again. That I’ll never see you again.”

“Bucky…” Amelie switched the position of their hands so hers was on top, her fingers curled between his hand and the table they sat at.

He sniffed and mustered a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it grin. “And no one’s gonna stop Steve from getting his ass kicked.”

She breathed a laugh and returned to feeling sad, now more for him than herself.

“I trust that you will,” she closed her eyes for a moment to hold her own feelings back. “I’ll be here with you through everything. I can’t change the course of wherever this is going, but whatever I can do, I’ll do it. For you.”

Silence befell them.

“Including protecting Steve myself,” Amelie smiled meekly. “He sounds like a great guy. And he’s definitely lucky to have a friend like you.”

He returned the gesture, his eyes going from her hand to her face.

“I don’t think he’d know what to do with himself if he ever found out a dame said that about him,” Bucky laughed, shaking his head.

It was short-lived when he realized he had neglected her initial comment.

“But what are you scared of?”

Amelie shrugged one shoulder. “Pretty much the same thing. I don’t have family or friends. But I’m scared I’ll lose you.”

“You won’t, doll,” he lifted her hand and kissed a knuckle. “We’ll get through this together.”

“I thought about it and… you don’t have to tell me anything. It must’ve been so hard for you—“

“Where to?” the cab driver asked the couple reflected on his rearview mirror.

Bucky stated his address and settled in as the car started.

Amelie stayed silent, allowing him the chance to talk if he wanted. While she did question how any of this was possible, she didn’t want to cut open what was just starting to heal.

Did she really need to know? Probably not. It should be enough that he’s here with her.

She nuzzled her cheek on his shoulder and closed her eyes, noting the subtle scent of seawater emanating from his coat.

“Tired?” Bucky asked, amused.

Amelie nodded.

Just as she was going to fall asleep, he gave her shoulder a light squeeze, prompting her to squint out the window, the rest of her body unmoving.

“Are we there?” she asked, groggily.

“Almost,” he watched the city life play out in front of him.

The sidewalk was like one long wall of civilians, dotted with the men he had traveled with.

A look of content graced his face when he felt Amelie’s hand on his, where it remained on her shoulder. Her fingertips lightly caressed the veins on the back of his hand. His muscles relaxed slightly and he turned to her.

“I wanna tell you. An abridged version, at least.”

The driver pulled up in front of a housing unit, parked, and went around back to pop the trunk.

Bucky swung the backseat door closest to the curb open and stepped out before offering his hand to his partner, who graciously took it and followed him out.

She pulled the strap of her purse over her head, securing it over her body while he paid the driver and picked up his own things.

Once the cab drove off, they surveyed the front of the elongated, red brick structure with sixteen windows in a 4x4 grid.

“Nothing’s changed much so far,” Bucky mused, taking in some more detail, then offering his unoccupied arm to Amelie.

They walked into the main entrance where they were met with a staircase.

From the above floors, she sensed activity from the tenants, mostly through footsteps and loud chatter. There was a putrid stench lingering about in the hall, the cause she couldn’t even begin to pinpoint.

She stopped at the landing, loosening her hold on his arm to accommodate the height difference between them from his stance three steps up.

“I just want you to know something,” Amelie got in front of him, on the same step and took his hand. “You can tell me however much you want to today. Whether or not you choose to reveal the whole thing three days later or three decades later… I’ll always be around to hear it.”

Bucky stood still, then took small strides to close the gap between them.

Amelie inhaled, tasting his lips on hers again. She snaked her hands up his arms and past his shoulders, onto the back of his neck. Her fingers brushed whatever hair wasn’t covered by his cap.

She squeaked when he backed her onto the wall behind her, his hands on her hips, followed by arms circling her waist.

There was a tingle between her legs, the implications of which she tried not to think too much about. She was at least thankful for the wall holding her up when her knees got weak.

After what seemed like hours to her, he broke the kiss and his hands drew back from her waist.

“C’mon, doll,” he smiled that dreamy smile, eyes beautifully shining even under the dim—and occasionally flickering—hall light. “We’ll get more comfortable inside.”

—

On the second floor, Bucky knocked on one of two dark wood doors on the right side of the corridor.

When no answer was given, he knocked again.

“Mom? Dad? Becca?” he called.

They waited a few minutes. Receiving no response, he reached up to the top of the door frame and felt around for something.

He snatched up a key and used it to unlock the door. It made a sound not unlike a mouse’s cry when he swung it inwards.

“Maurice still didn’t oil that?” he grumbled, then shrugged it off.

Amelie went in, shutting the door behind her and turning the lock. She pulled her cap off, smoothed her hair down and turned back around.

Bucky slowly gravitated towards the kitchen, which prompted her to follow and stop at his side, angling her head back to follow his gaze.

A white banner hung from the ceiling, spanning above the icebox and stove. The writing was, no doubt, that of a child. Written in block letters in black crayon, the banner read:

Welcome Home, Soldier!

“Aww!” Amelie gushed and got on her toes, bringing her puckered lips to his cheek.

On the kitchen table, there was a note.

When he picked it up and brought it closer to read, she saw it was a letter for him.

Not wanting to intrude, she opted to browse the family portraits on the living room wall.

The largest one was in a square frame, displaying a formal photo of the Barnes’s—mother, father, Bucky and his four younger sisters. It looked as if it was taken shortly before the war, possibly in hopes of capturing their last moment together as a family, should the only son not return home.

To the right were two smaller pictures. On the top, the family patriarch stood with Bucky as a little boy around 5 years old. The one underneath showed a teenaged version of him sitting on a bed of grass. He was flanked by two sisters, one of who appeared to be putting a flower in their brother’s hair.

Amelie laughed at the unamused look on the boy’s face. She jumped when a pair of arms wrapped around her waist from behind.

“Did ya hear what I said, doll?” he asked and looked down at her. “Sorry.”

She hummed and rested her hands on his, which were crossed over her tummy.

“No, I didn’t,” she twisted her upper body and craned her neck so she was eye-to-eye with him. “What did you say?”

“I said everyone’s in Indiana, visiting some friends of the family. So we have the place to ourselves for a little more than a week,” he said.

“That’s great,” Amelie turned so her whole body faced him. “I don’t mean it like that. Not at all. I’m excited to meet them. I just need time prepare myself. And—“

Her rambling stopped when she saw his boyish grin.

“I-I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” she asked, then planted her forehead onto his necktie. “You can always stop me, you know!”

Bucky laughed and left one hand on her lower back, the other cradled the back of her head, pulling her into his arms.

“I love seeing you talk,” he leaned his head down so his lips brushed her ear.

“I can make some other pretty sounds come outta you,” he whispered, smirk in his words evident to her.

She hopped back and playfully slapped his arm. “Bucky!”

Her thighs squeezed together under her khaki skirt.

“Unless you don’t want to…”

“I do. But weren’t you going to tell me about how you’re still here in one piece?”

With that, he solemnly nodded and motioned for her to take a seat on the sofa.

—

“You said you didn’t feel anything when Steve brought you back to camp.”

“I didn’t want you to worry. Plus, there were other guys who needed the care more than I did.”

“Bucky, you got injected with something you didn’t even know. There could’ve been some nasty side effects to whatever was in there!”

“Then I’d be pulled off the line when Steve needed me.”

She knew how inseparable they were. The only thing that came between them was a goddamn world war.

Even if Steve hadn’t arrived and assembled the Howling Commandos, she knew in her heart Bucky would never abandon the others.

“I would’ve been studied like a lab rat while everyone else was doing the fighting,” he adds with a frown. “But it happened anyway after… you know.”

She nodded and hugged him, holding him there for as long as he would allow. “That’s when you knew?”

He sniffed, letting tears trail down his cheeks. “The doctors said it probably wasn’t the same serum given to Steve. That that Hydra doctor made his own version and tested it on me.”

After some silence, he sat her on his lap and buried his face in her shoulder. In turn, her arms looped around his neck, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“It wasn’t your fault, Bucky,” her voice was just above a whisper. “I know you’re scared.”

His eyes clenched shut, grip on her waist similar to how she had him at the docks.

She stayed silent but kept him in her arms.

“They were saying how amazed they were that I only had a broken arm and a head injury that was more superficial than expected from something like that. I thought I was gonna die… but then I started to heal,” he recounted. “Physically, anyway.”

Amelie squished her cheek onto his hair. “I’ll help you heal everywhere else. I’ll always be here.”

He pulled back enough to make eye contact with her.

“God, I love you,” he said before kissing her passionately.

“I love you, too,” she breathed between kisses.

She held him back with her hands on his chest, eyes opened. “You want to get settled in, just relax? I need to take a bath first. The sun was merciless!”

He smiled and moved his hands to the couch cushions. “I’ll go after you. It’s out in the hall, first door to the left.”

Amelie gave a distracted ‘okay’ as she rummaged through her bag for some toiletries she’d swiped from the last hospital she worked at.

“I can lend you some of my clothes,” he rose from his seat and retrieved two full-length towels from a supply closet, bringing them to her.

With a bar of soap, comb and a handkerchief, she took the towels and placed her things on top.

“If they fit, anyway,” Amelie said, more to herself than him.

She always knew she would never fill a partner’s clothes the way all the pretty and slim women could.

Instead of accentuating small, dainty features, she would stretch his shirts and trousers like a big ball of molding clay tightly wrapped in cellophane.

“They will and you’ll look cute as always,” Bucky reassured brightly. “I’ll leave the front door unlocked and the clothes out here. Just come find me when you’re done.”

She nodded gratefully and stepped out of the parlor, into the hall.

With the towels rolled up in one hand, she stopped at a door labelled “W.C.” in yellow lettering across frosted glass.

Once she knocked and confirmed its vacancy, she pushed the handle and slipped in.

While she ran the bath, she wet the handkerchief, using it to remove her makeup.

Seeing the tub filled a little more than halfway, Amelie began to undress. She put her clothes down on a table, next to where she set the towels.

Left in her undergarments, she caught a glimpse of her back in the mirror.

Framed perfectly by the straps of her bra was a scar near her shoulder blades left by a stitch. Surrounding it were dots of smaller scars, which have healed significantly better.

She winced, the memory of the day so vivid, she could feel the hot metal shards piercing her flesh.

Great. Add that to the list of things on my body that would repulse Bucky, she shook her head and got in the bath after checking the temperature.

He’s been with a lot of girls, he’d know what a ‘real body’ looked like, Amelie thought to herself while soaping up her drenched hair. But those girls are actually beautiful. Unlike you.

“Shut up, shut up!” she hissed at herself, closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose.

“Just finish up and go,” she told herself. “People are probably waiting.”

—

Amelie entered the parlor again and put her clothes down by her purse.

Having dried her hair off enough that it was damp, the only towel she used was covering her body.

On the arm of the sofa was a white button shirt and a pair of blue shorts.

She inspected the two articles of clothing before pulling a vest and brief panties rolled up in her bag. The former was going to save her in the event the shirt was too tight. The shorts weren’t as much a concern, as she predicted, they’ll stop past her knees, maybe even mid-calf, due to her small stature.

She was alone in the room and the only window was a sliver of glass where two kitchen walls met, but it faced a brick wall.

With this in mind, she pulled her clothes on first and then his.

She breathed out, relieved, upon securing the last button and finding that she did, in fact, have room to move around comfortably in it.

After drying her hair more and running her comb through it, she wandered into the kitchen and through the only other entryway there.

There were two small beds next to each other and a cardboard box of toys in the corner—undoubtedly the girls’ room.

From where she stood, Amelie spotted a worn, but obviously loved, doll sitting up in the box.

She smiled at it and returned to her original search. “Bucky?”

There was another room connected to the one she was in.

“Bucky? I’m d—“ she walked in, hand on the door frame and feet stilled just as quick as her words.

He was on the opposite side of the room, his back to her.

On a nearby chair, he had arranged the components of his uniform with care: cap, tie and coat on the back; shirt and undershirt piled on the seat.

Amelie could swear the pink on her cheeks deepened at the sound of his trousers slipping down his legs.

“You were saying, doll?”

She didn’t know how long she was staring at the defined muscles of his backside, but she snapped out of any impure thoughts arising and moved her eyes to his face.

He was looking at her over his shoulder, one eyebrow up in question.

“Uh… I-I’m done,” she stammered.

There was something different in those familiar blue eyes now as he turned on his heel, showing the front of his body to her. Besides the patch of hair on his chest, there wasn’t a mark on him. It was as if he hadn’t fallen at all.

He folded his pants and tossed them onto the chair with his shirts, turning his head only slightly to ensure it made it where he intended.

“I’ll be right back, then,” he flashed a devious smirk her way and went to leave.

She backed up against the wall to get out of his path, but she didn’t pass her like she’d expected. He seemed to, then backtracked.

Staring her down to her lips, he licked his own.

Amelie looked down and brought her knees together, tending to the arousal blossoming in her core.

“No need to be shy, baby doll,” he curled his index finger under her chin and gently tipped it upwards. “Or did you forget that special night we shared?”

While she processed the low, raspy tone of his inquiry, he took in the woman before him.

She gasped. “Bucky! What are you—“

He cradled her face in his hands and silenced her with a kiss.

Feeling the tension melt away in his touch, he rested his thumb on her bottom lip.

“I know I said I wanted to wait, but thinking about it now…” Bucky whispered. “Neither of us knows what’ll happen to me. What if we never get the chance?”

“Bu—“

“Listen. I know it’s sudden, but I… I’ve got nothing special to give you. No fancy jewelry or anything. I wanna give this to you”

He watched the gears turning in her eyes. She moved out of his grasp, chest visibly rising and falling.

“Here?” her eyes darted to the sleeping nurses hidden in the shadows casted by the moon.

Bucky nodded hesitantly, now unsure of the idea himself.

“Doll, I know it’s crazy a-and I know I’m asking so much in a small window of time…”

Amelie gave him a look as if to say, You don’t say?’

“Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. No questions asked,” he held her hands. “You want me to stay, I’ll stay. You ask me to leave, I’m outta here. Hell, I’ll stay and we can just sit together for a while. I don’t care, doll. Whatever makes you happy.”

After much consideration, she held his cheeks like he did hers earlier.

“First of all, you don’t need to buy me anything. Just love me, Bucky.”

“I do, Amelie. So, so much. Whether or not we do anything now. I love you all the same.”

She smiled, tight-lipped to hold back the wave of emotions building up.

“Second, how did you even make it here? What did you tell the men?”

“That I was gonna take a piss,” a small laugh bubbled up his chest.

Amelie removed his helmet and kissed his cheek.

“Then we better get to it,” she said in a more hushed manner, for his ear alone.

When she got back on her haunches, Bucky gaped at her with eyes wide enough to show more whites. His peachy cheeks flushed.

His lips parted when she left soft, lingering kisses along his neck.

“Oh, I’m taking my time with you,” he hummed. “You can bet on that.”

The sensation of her warm hand on his groin made him perk up and take her wrist.

“Is this what you really want? You can back out. You can always back out. You have my word,” he looked at her intensely.

She nodded. “I want this. I want you.”

“Oh, I didn’t forget,” Amelie batted her eyelashes. “But it has been, what? Two, three years?”

He put his hand down and had one foot out in the direction he was going previously.

“I’ll be more than happy to bring you up to speed,” he winked and walked away.

She saw a hint of a satisfied smile on his face.

The bastard.

He was about to exit his sisters’ room when he called back to her.

“Go on, doll. Make yourself comfortable. It’s where you’ll be sleeping.”

[tocastielandback]

Welcome Home, Soldier [Part 2]

Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size SE Asian F!OC

Word Count: 2015

Description: Amelie's trip down memory lane leads her to the right place.

Author’s Note: First time I've ever written Bucky smut. I know this one sucks, but the next will be better (at least I hope). Unbeta'd, lightly edited. All mistakes are mine.

Warnings: angst, fluff, pet names (doll, baby doll, good girl); SMUT (18+ only) - protected sex, sneaky sex, p in v, loss of virginity; cursing, brief mention of blood, self-hate, body insecurities, racism, colorism, shitty family

Tags: @mysoftboybensolo, @maria-chwan, @lokiskitten, @caffeinated-fan

*** If anyone wants to be tagged, just leave a comment or dm me!

I do not consent to my work being copied, translated or reposted on another website.

“We’re like a couple of school kids,” Amelie teased, regarding their ongoing written correspondence.

Bucky stood closer to her.

Feeling heat radiating from his body and up her cheeks, the nurse dropped her gaze shyly.

To quell her racing heart, she focused on the name tag on his uniform. A short, white thread hung from the stitching.

His index finger curled under her chin and tipped her head back.

“Well, we’re definitely a couple,” he smirked.

“A-Are we?” her eyes widened a little, mesmerized by the way he looked at her.

They hadn’t exactly made it ‘official’, whatever that entailed.

“God, you’re so cute,” he chuckled at her naivety and leaned his forehead on hers. “Can I kiss you?”

Her mind was still reeling from the ‘couple’ part. She almost hadn’t realized she was leaving him hanging. When she met his eyes, she saw he had backed away. Their heads weren’t touching anymore and his hand dropped back to his side.

His body remained close, though.

She didn’t know how to kiss, but boy did she want him to teach her.

“Yes, Bucky.”

That dashing side-smirk returned and, this time, he placed the same hand gently upon her cheek and captured her lips with his.

Warmth and fuzziness permeated Amelie’s chest and tummy at the memory.

Now able to read the S.S. Samaria on the side of the boat, she recounted one of her last memories of Bucky.

“Oh, fuck…” she hissed as she dug a tan leg around his waist.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered into her hairline, punctuating his declaration with a soft kiss.

In contrast, the thrusting of his hips sped up, making her gasp audibly.

He put his pointer finger to his nose and mouth, signaling her to be quiet. With the same hand, he cupped her cheek and pressed his lips against hers.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to stifle her moans as he continued his barrage of kisses all over her face and neck.

Her pussy got wetter, tighter around him. “B-Bucky…”

“Cum for me, baby doll,” he pulled her to his chest while she rubbed her clit. “Fuck, I needta feel it.”

Her breath from chanting his name fanned against his bare chest, right below where the chain of his dog tags draped over his collarbone.

The blanket covering where they connected partly fell onto the floor with the force of his thrusts.

He moaned and froze between her legs when her upper body jerked back, mouth agape in a silent scream. Red fingernails clawed into his biceps, marking his flesh. Her heel drove into the bottom of his spine as she rode out her high.

Amelie curled back into his embrace, her whole body convulsing with ecstasy.

Bucky wet his lips with his tongue and began moving again, this time not as fast.

“That’s a good girl,” he brushed a few strands of stray locks from her face and kissed her sweetly.

Her hand flew to the back of his neck, fingers in his hair as he sped up again.

“Oh, Bucky…” she purred and moved her hips in time with his.

He anchored her thigh onto his with his strong hand.

“Amelie, I’m gonna—“ he groaned and gave one final push, drawing a soft ‘mh!” from his partner.

His body went stiff as he spilled his load into the condom inside her.

While they caught their breaths, their grips on each other relaxed.

Upon meeting his eyes, Amelie could make out a look of pure adoration on Bucky’s face, despite the moonlight from outside highlighting only his back and shoulders.

“So is it all that it’s cracked up to be?” he smirked.

She smiled into his neck, remembering the day she told him that she was a virgin. People act like it’s the best thing ever while some have told her it ‘wasn’t all that it’s cracked up to be’, she said. Whichever one it was, Amelie wished to find out for herself, but only with the right person. She asked him to be the one, but being the gentleman he was, he wanted to wait until she was truly ready.

She didn’t expect it to be this night. In an abandoned building-turned-aid station where other nurses slept some few feet away on the other side of a curtain partition.

After much thought, she tipped her head back to see his eyes and smiled. “With you, it was.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled.

Her heart fell when, after pulling out of her and removing the condom, he propped himself up with his arm against the cold floor, his dog tags dropping back over his ribcage. She knew their moment together couldn’t last, but it pained her nonetheless.

“I gotta go, doll,” he buttoned up his uniform and kissed her head and lips.

“That’s one hell of a piss, Sarge,” she joked as he picked his rifle up.

He seemed confused for a split second, but the excuse he gave the men in his foxhole came back to him.

“I’ll just say it turned into a shit,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

Amelie had to turn her face into her upper arm to stifle her laugh.

“You go do that,” she brought her curled fingers down, the knuckles brushing her lips.

“Doll, stop bein’ cute or I’m never gonna leave,” he swung the gun over his shoulder blade and went to climb out the window, but a tug of his hand stopped him.

She knew he had to rejoin his squad so she made it quick:

“I love you, Bucky.”

He spun around, taking a step closer to her just enough to be able to level her hand to his lips.

“I love you too, Amelie. So much.”

A bell rang at the pier, causing her to jolt back to the present.

With the ship docked, the crowd gathered around and cheered when the servicemen started filing out.

People waved and called out the names of their husbands, sons, sweethearts.

A bittersweet smile formed on Amelie’s face as she witnessed several unions unfold before her.

It’s what the men deserved after all the fighting they’d done on the other side of the world.

She thought back to when her hands were caked with blood, some from men who wouldn’t see this day.

But everyone who’s here today at least knew their loved one escaped death and didn’t dread leaving the Harbor with nothing but sorrowful hearts, she reassured herself.

That much she was happy for.

She hoped to at least see Steve. Even if Bucky had died, she would want to hear it from him.

That was, unless he was also killed in action.

The number of passengers going down the ramp was dwindling.

Amelie blinked rapidly to stave off saltwater lining her tear ducts and stood up. She tucked the letters back into her bag and counted what little cash she had before standing up.

I’ll stay somewhere for the night and go see Tita Sue in the morning. Tell her it was too late to travel by the time I got back to the States, she pondered, still looking at the open door of the cabin.

She’ll probably call me a failure for that, too. “You couldn’t even make it here on time? Your cousins already got home. Edgar got the Distinguished Service Star. Maribel met a sailor and they just announced their engagement. What did you do there? Did you meet someone? Of course not. Men at home don’t even like you. Maybe if you used that skin cream I bought, you would have half a chance.”

It took everything within her to not cry. Her aunt was the only family she had in America. And she didn’t even act like it.

Two men came from the once-empty hall and stepped out onto the deck, sacks slung over their backs.

She didn’t recognize one. But the other?

His dark brown hair peaked out over the back of his neck from under an olive drab cap.

Was it…? It couldn’t.

Her feet guided her through the crowd.

Staring straight ahead, her vision focused on the man’s face. Light blue eyes, now with a hint of dark circles underneath, and the smile that never failed to make her weak as he laughed at something his friend said.

A laugh that reignited pure bliss inside her.

“Bucky?” she finally called out in question.

The man she had her eyes on turned his head mid-conversation, his lips parted and he stood still.

Her heart beat wildly, a lump in her throat formed, and her eyesight was getting foggy.

It was, without a doubt, him.

“Amelie!”

It was his voice.

She didn’t get a chance to move, or even think about moving. A pair of arms pulled her onto the lapels of a warm wool coat.

Tears fell down her cheeks as she hugged him around the waist. He was tall enough to rest his chin atop her head, which was exactly what he did after kissing her temple.

“How?” she whispered, the side of her head pressed against his chest.

She held on tighter as if she’d lose him again. And in a way, she was afraid she would.

“Steve told me—“ she gasped and shot her head back to look at him. “Where is Steve? He told me you were alive and—“

Bucky simply smiled and cut her rambling short. “He’s fine. He’s tying up some loose ends with Agent Carter.”

She nodded, then Bucky cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her with passion.

Her hands rested on his upper arms as she sunk into the taste of cigarettes and milk chocolate.

She hummed, now content that this wasn’t a dream.

In need of oxygen, he drew his lips back.

“I’ll explain everything else,” he reassured, followed by a clench of his jaw.

Through a partial grin, he put his hand on the small of her back. “How ‘bout I take you home?“

Her face lit up, wanting to just cuddle with him, but then she remembered they wouldn’t be alone. He was already leading her towards the curb, where a line of cabs idled for the families on the docks. But she didn’t move.

“What if your family doesn’t like me?”

He stopped beside her, smile fallen.

It hurt knowing it was from her words, but she also didn’t want to face humiliation. Or worse, him feeling ashamed of being with her.

“What? Why wouldn’t they, doll? You’re beautiful and kind and sweet…”

“Bucky, you know what I mean,” she laughed a little and fanned her hands out, gesturing to her appearance.

Despite being in her own uniform, her presence attracted dirty looks and hateful whispers. Nothing she did mattered when the first thing people saw was her skin and body.

He gave her a sympathetic look and brushed a loose curl off her cheek.

“They don’t care about any of that. Well, my dad does… a little,” he looked away for a minute, mouth in a straight line. “But my mom can convince him of anything. And judging by what she wrote me, she wants to meet you.”

Amelie put her hands over the lower half of her face, the edges of her lips pulling back to her pink cheeks. “You talked about me?”

He chuckled. “Can you blame me? I was so crazy for you. Still am.”

“So they know I’m not skinny or white?” she gulped. “‘Cus I don’t want them to be surprised and hate me.”

He kissed her again, his hand moving slightly so her ear was between his index finger and thumb.

Once he pulled away, he gave her the most love-struck look she’s ever seen on a man. Only this time, it wasn’t aimed at a friend.

“Like I said, I told them everything. They won’t care about any of that once they see how amazing you are.”

“Oh, Bucky…” she giggled, feeling tears creep up her waterline again.

He pecked her lips and held her hand. “Let’s go home.”

[tocastielandback]

Electric Love

40s!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!SE Asian!F