dysmorphics | open post

"Doesn't count," she murmured against his lips, in the same tone she would use to tease him about being an idiot. It was a marvel, really, that they managed to keep their relationship platonic despite the many times they'd ended up together in her bed. Or her in his tent during the war, which also happened a lot; it broke several Army regulations, but since the Howlies knew of his plan to propose, they took no issue with it.

When they'd kissed hours ago, at the ruins of the Avengers Compound that had become a battlefield, it had been charged with emotions. It still was now, but she was hyperaware of the more primal instincts stirring within her and was, in fact, giving into them as much as her injured body allowed. Fisting the front of his shirt and pulling him closer. Burying her fingers into his hair. Parting her lips with a moan for his tongue.

They ought to move because the bed should be more comfortable... but moving could wait. Moving meant parting — in their current states they couldn't just get up and kiss their way to the bedroom — and she didn't really want to do that right now.

Injured or not, Bucky thought kissing Steph was just as perfect as he always suspected it would be, especially when he felt her lips part for him and heard that moan. Sure, he'd kissed other girls and women when he was younger, and those were... fine. Not awful or anything, but none of them felt like kissing Steph did. Kissing her felt right.

Tightening the natural arm he had wrapped around her shoulders, Bucky shifted closer and placed his metal hand gently on her hip. If they were less hurt, Bucky would probably scoop her up and carry her off to her bed, but with his ankle, that wasn't exactly the smartest option, so the couch was just fine with him for the time being.

Bucky let out his own soft groan when he let his tongue brush against hers, getting his first real taste of her. He continued to kiss her deeply and passionately for a moment before breaking it, but only pulling back far enough to let his forehead rest against hers. Heart pounding and breathing hard, there was a soft smile on his face. "God, I love you, Steph."

Steph felt the years wash away the more they kissed, and while she and Bucky were no longer the same people they'd been back then, she at least was as in love with him as she'd always been. Perhaps even more so, after everything. "I love you too, Buck." She was smiling, but she couldn't help the glimmer of tears in her eyes. "I'm really glad you're home."

Not just back, but home. In each other's arms, alive and safe. She wasn't going to let anything separate them again.

She cupped his cheek and ran her thumb along his lower lip. "So when are we getting married?" She would say her vows right then and there and make things official, if that were possible; alas, there was paperwork to do and formalities to be observed, on top of whatever bureaucratic bullshit was coming in the aftermath of Thanos' defeat and the return of the Vanished.

Hearing Steph say those words and knowing for a fact that she didn't mean it in a platonic way anymore was like music to Bucky's ears. And her saying "home", whether she just meant back or if she meant her apartment, it didn't matter. His home was wherever she was, and he was going to do his best to keep it that way. "I'm not going to let anything separate us again." For one thing, there had been more than enough separation. For another, Bucky was the happiest and most content that he'd been since before he shipped out to Europe.

The question about the wedding, however, made him laugh. He moved to press a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling back to look at her. "Sweetheart, I'd drag you to a courthouse right now if I thought they'd actually marry us tonight," he told her simply. "The only thing that kept me from trying that on our way back here was knowing that it wouldn't be legal yet if we did that."

She laughed then too. "Yeah, you're probably still dead on record." Her expression sobered at the reminder that he had been well and truly gone, and it had hurt just as much as it did the first time. "But for what it's worth, my answer is yes. I do. Or whatever wording is required. The paperwork can follow."

Yeah, she really was doing the whole 'fuck it, we've waited long enough for this' thing. Which included another round of kissing, despite already starting to feel light-headed again.

When they next broke off, she said with a cheeky grin, "Let's move to the bed. I'd really like to get you down to your boxers before I pass out." There would be proper sex once they felt better, sure, but who knew how many days that was going to take?

"It's not the first time they've had to take me off the KIA list," Bucky said, shrugging one shoulder. Sure, he was teasing slightly, but he also meant it. They'd thought he was killed in action for decades after he fell off that train. "But I do, too. We can deal with the legalities later."

It felt like he'd already told her fifty times that day, but in Bucky's heart, he'd always been hers anyway. Paperwork didn't matter as long as he stayed by her side.

"C'mon," he started, finally pulling away before gingerly getting to his feet, clearly favoring one leg over the other. Holding one hand out, he helped her up as well before heading towards her bedroom. "You know, I'd carry you to bed if it wasn't for this bum leg."

"I'd carry you if it wasn't for this broken arm," she returned as they hobbled together toward her bedroom. No, their bedroom. They were married now, no matter what anyone or the legalities said. She was more than happy with that.

In their injured states, there was unfortunately nothing exciting about taking off their clothes. She sat on the edge of the bed and wiggled her way out of her shorts, pulling them off one-handed, then started to fumble for the clasps of her bra beneath her tank top. She managed to free one arm only to realize there was no way she was getting it off the other, but she also wasn't about to go to sleep wearing it. It was uncomfortable as hell. Most days she even missed those years before the serum, where she didn't have to bother with one at all.

"Darling?" The endearment slipped out of her tongue easily, without her having to even think about it. "You don't happen to have a knife on you now, do you? I gotta cut off this damn strap."

When Bucky heard Steph call him darling he couldn't help the smile that stretched across his face. He was sitting on the foot of the bed, his pants half down as he bent over to pull at the Velcro holding his splint closed, needing to take it off to be able to get his pants the rest of the way off. The request for a knife had him reach for the belt that was still half around his knees before remembering that he'd dumped all his weapons in the living room. "Uh, I can go get one if you want?" he said as he turned to look at her.

But when he realized what it was she wanted to cut he perked a brow at her. "Or I could help you with that once I finish my own struggle." Getting the split off was simple and all, just pulling a couple Velcro straps and pulling it off with a hiss, then setting it aside so he could get the pants the rest of the way off. He set it on the bed before dropping his ruined pants on the floor, then scooted over to Steph.

"Here," he began, face reddening slightly as he bit his lip and gently removed her sling, then worked the strap around her splint. Once that was done, he pressed a soft kiss to the curve of Steph's shoulder before helping her back into the sling.

Bucky still needed to get his splint back on, but when did he not put Steph's wellbeing before himself?

"Let me sleep on the left? That way you don't risk smacking your head on a big lump of metal." Also, if she were on his right, he would actually be able to feel her warmth properly.

"Hey, actually..." Steph interrupted as he started to help her back into her sling. "We should probably just get this off too." She tugged at the bottom hem of her tank top to indicate it, ducking her head a little as she felt her cheeks flush. She had imagined him undressing her in all manner of ways over the many years she'd pined for him, and now that it was finally happening — even if it was almost entirely unromantic — she couldn't stop the heat from flooding her face.

She knew she was objectively pretty. The serum saw to that, and she'd been privy to the many comments about her ass and her appearance in general. Heck, she had been named Sexiest Woman Alive by various magazines several times. But none of that mattered. What Bucky thought of her was the only opinion that counted, and a part of her was worried about disappointing him.

She resisted the urge to grab the blanket and wrap it around her. Barring some medical procedures, this was the most naked she'd ever been around a guy. "Yeah, sure. I don't really have a preference since I'm, um, used to sleeping alone." She self-consciously tugged a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Do you..." Like it? she wanted to ask, but it seemed dumb. She wasn't a teenager who needed validation anymore, though she'd never really gotten rid of those damn insecurities.

Bucky's eyes went a bit wide when he realized what Steph was asking him to help her with. Looking into her eyes, he asked a simple, "You sure?" and waited for confirmation before helping her out of her tank top.

He couldn't help the way his breath caught at the sight of her. Not because of the way she was built, but because it was her. After looking her over his eyes locked on hers again. It was one of her features that didn't really change after the serum - so far they had only changed slightly over time with age. "You're beautiful, sweetheart," he said, voice soft as he reached out to place his good hand on her cheek, then leaned in to give her a short, gentle kiss. "You've always been beautiful though."

The next time he shifted he winced though, moving his ankle in a way he shouldn't have without the splint on it. "Hang on, let me just," he turned his back to her as he got rid of those socks that he'd apparently been in for five years. His ankle was definitely swollen as hell and purple, so he quickly grabbed the splint and strapped it back on.

Then he hesitated for a moment, debating with himself. Sure, it wasn't unusual for men to take their shirts off. Hell, it was downright normal. But it was something Bucky had gotten very self-conscious about since he'd had his arm replaced.

At least when he was aware enough to be self-conscious.

But after a moment, and with his back still to her, he went ahead and pulled his own tank top off, revealing all those nasty scars where metal met flesh, scars from both having the arm attached in the first place as well as all the times he tried to claw it off decades ago.

Steph stared. She'd never really seen the extent of Bucky's scars before, and the sight of them made her stomach churn. Not because she was disgusted by how they look or anything like that, but because she was the reason he had them. He'd stayed to fight with her, and for what? To get blown out of a train car and defiled in every way possible because she, with all her strength and new abilities, hadn't been able to save him.

"I'm sorry," she couldn't help saying with a soft, strangled sob. She would probably keep saying it for a while longer, until she learned to forgive herself in the same way he had already absolved her. She opened her arms for him, because while she wanted to hug him and kiss those scars, he might not want her touching him yet, and she'd long promised herself that she would never impose her presence on him or do anything to him without his consent. "Come here?"

At the sound of Steph apologizing and that sob that came out of her, Bucky turned to face her again. "What are you sorry for?" he asked, confusion written all over his face as he moved in to wrap his arms around her. Sure, he was very much aware of his scars and how awful they looked, but he would never turn Steph away when she wanted him to hold her.

Hell, aside from those first couple years after his escape, Bucky couldn't think of many times in his life he'd ever turned her away. Since they'd met, Bucky's life had pretty much revolved around Steph Rogers, whether she realized it or not. At least it had whenever he had control of himself.

"There's nothing for you to apologize for, dove," he told her before pressing a kiss to her hair. He meant it, too. Nothing that happened to him was her fault. That blame laid at HYDRA's feet only, not hers.

She nodded, though it was more to convince herself than him. Then she pulled back enough to brush her fingertips to his shoulder, the touch feather-light, over a spot where metal met flesh. "I know I didn't do this to you. But I'm sorry anyway."

She would just have to atone for her failures for the rest of her life. Tonight, she began by lightly touching her lips to his skin, over where her fingers had been, lingering long enough that he might think that was all. But then she moved again, trailing kisses along his shoulder, up the side of his neck, then finally to his ear. "I love you so much," she whispered, and it wasn't only her breath that was warm, but also the top half of her body that was pressed skin-to-skin against his.

When he next found her mouth, she allowed herself to do something she had only ever imagined: she let her hand wander, palm sliding over the skin and muscles of his chest as though she was memorizing his shapes to put to paper later. Perhaps she might. For now, she had her curiosity to satisfy.

Bucky's breath caught when Steph began to kiss across his shoulder and up his neck. Eyes sliding closed, he realized that either his neck was sensitive, or he was just sensitive to being touched by the woman he'd always wanted to be touched by.

Most likely it was both.

"I love you, too, sweetheart. Always have," he said in a voice just as soft as Steph's had been, his voice laced with what could almost be called reverence. Because it amazed him that even after all he'd done, everything he'd been through and forced to do, Steph could still love him. It was something that Bucky was sure he would never take for granted.

When they kissed again and Steph began to touch and explore his chest, Bucky couldn't help the quiet moan that escaped him. He let his own natural hand rest on Steph's side before sliding gently up, his fingertips brushing over her skin teasingly before coming to a stop on the side of her ribs. His thumb hesitantly ran over the side of her breast before he pulled back from the kiss to look at Steph again.

"Can I?" he asked, hoping she understood the question. He wanted to touch her much the same way she was touching him, but it was different for a woman, and he didn't want to just make assumptions.

At any other time she'd have laughed and teased him for suddenly being shy, but they were both feeling far too vulnerable for her to want to joke around about it. "All yours, baby," she just said instead, with a soft smile that went all the way to her eyes. "Anytime and any way you want."

Though she did laugh shortly after they resumed kissing. Well, it was more like a laugh followed by a sharp inhale. "Sorry, just... a little sore here." She put a hand on the spot below her right breast, where the skin was mottled by bruises. He hadn't actually touched it, but she'd closed in a little too eagerly and pulled at it or something. "Just stick to the, um, lady parts."

What the fuck, Stephanie? She might be inexperienced, but she knew plenty about sex and the human body. Yet she was nervous anyway, and blushing like a virgin bride. In a way, she kind of was.

Bucky let out his own weak laugh at that, nodding, then pulled back to gesture at his own ribs, but along his left side. "I've got some of those, too," he said simply. "Happens more when you just have an arm instead of a shield." Bucky had to block things with his left arm, after all, and it could only block so much. Plus, he had basically gone from one battle directly into another, while Steph had five (admittedly miserable) years between them to heal.

"I love you, Steph," he said as he cupped that breast in his natural hand, biting gently at his own lip as he watched his thumb drift over her nipple. "I've, uh," he started before looking back up at her. "I've never been with anyone before." Not by choice. Not anyone who counted. "So just don't expect me to know what I'm doing when it happens, sweetheart." When. Not if.

Sure, he'd seen porn in recent years. Of course he had. There may or may not have even been a particular genre of Captain America cosplay porn that he may or may not have seen. But even he was aware that the way people did things in porn wasn't likely realistic.

She watched his hand, marveling at how even the smallest of touchest sent a wave through her that was more potent than adrenaline. Maybe she'd last for a while yet after all. She certainly didn't want them to stop so soon, even if they'd only get as far as petting.

"Me either." There was a breathless hitch to her voice that hadn't been there before. "I almost dated Sam, but someone blew a hole through the wall of my apartment in D.C. and then nothing else mattered." She glanced up at him, just as he brushed his thumb over her nipple again and left her gasping softly. "No one else... has ever mattered..."

If not for the wound on his thigh, she would've climbed onto his lap right then and there. She'd thought of pulling him down on the bed with her too, but her splint meant she couldn't actually rest on her side. Damn it. They would just have to do this sitting.

Bucky perked a brow then. "Sam? Really? I knew I couldn't trust him." It was bluster. Mostly. But there had been several times over the years that Bucky had wondered--and worried--about how close they were, and if anything was going to happen between them. He knew it had been jealousy, and if it had turned out that Sam was the one Steph wanted, he wouldn't have stood in the way. Much.

Honestly though, Bucky was genuinely thankful that Steph hadn't been alone. She had ended up with friends around her.

"Good thing I don't have to worry about that any more, huh?" He leaned in and pressed his lips to Steph's again then. No, he didn't need to worry about Sam. Or anyone else for that matter. Bucky finally got the girl of his dreams and he didn't plan on doing anything to lose her.

"Hey, he helped me look for you." She would always be grateful for that. Hell, Sam even continued the search during the times Steph got too busy with Avengers missions and international-level threats. "He was a good sport about it, even after the steering wheel incident." She didn't want to tease Bucky about his time as the Soldier, but while on the run with Sam and Nat a whole slew of jokes about that expressway chase came about, which Steph now found funny.

"I ain't here to talk about other people though," she reminded him, grinning against his lips before kissing him again. Yeah, talking could wait. She was finally getting to make out with the love of her life and she wasn't about to waste that time talking.

Stubbornly refusing to relinquish his mouth, she pulled her legs up the bed as they continued kissing, then guided his other hand to rest on her bare thigh. She didn't care how, she just wanted him to touch her, wanted him to get to know this body, then maybe, just maybe, she would finally feel at home in it.

For once, Bucky was almost thankful for that serum that had been forced into him. It meant that it wouldn't take too many days before he was at least healed up enough to be able to do more than just sitting up and gently touch her while they kissed.

Not that the kissing and touching were a bad thing. Not in the slightest. But he was definitely looking forward to being able to do more with her.

Groaning softly into the kiss, Bucky continued to toy with her breast with his natural hand while he squeezed gently at her thigh with his metal hand. The touch sensations in his new arm were more sensitive than they were with his old arm, and for that he was incredibly thankful, even if it was going to take a little while to get used to. But the new sensitivity let him feel her almost as well as he would have with a flesh and blood left hand.

He was definitely going to have to send Shuri a thank you note or a fruit basket or something.

Steph had always been quite reckless and impulsive, so it really shouldn't have been a surprise that she decided, despite the difficulty of moving around, to climb onto his lap and straddle him. She didn't actually sit on his lap as she didn't want her weight to strain his injuries, just basically knelt on either side of his legs, but their new position at least allowed him to explore her a bit more.

"Sorry," she said with a soft laugh, though she wasn't truly sorry. She had always wanted to do this; she'd even drawn this particular pose on several occasions, albeit in a more erotic fashion. She didn't need porn, just her sketchpad and pencils and her imagination.

She brushed his hair back with her fingers. If her other arm hadn't been in a sling, she'd have already tied his hair back so she could keep seeing his face. "The long hair is really growing on me," she teased.

Bucky definitely hadn't been expecting Steph to suddenly move to straddle his lap, but he was absolutely not going to complain. The sight and feel of his dream woman's bare breasts had already been getting to him, but having her shift so those breasts were right there in front of his face certainly didn't help. "Oh, fuck," the two words came out almost sounding like a soft moan. as his eyes widened.

"I, uh, yeah. It's growing on me, too," he said, brain shorting enough that the only way he could think to respond to that comment was with a stupid joke.

Moving his hands to rest on Steph's hips, he looked back up at her face again. "You're so fucking beautiful, Steph," he told her, his voice turning almost reverent as he let his hands slide around to run over America's Ass. "You've always been beautiful, but I've never had you right here like this." Sure, she'd been in his lap a million times in their lives, but those were very, very different situations. Not ones where he could keep his eyes on his wife (as he already thought of her) while he squeezed her ass and leaned in to start pressing light kisses to her breast before he closed his lips around her nipple, teasing it with his tongue.

It had also never been a time where he was hard as nails for her and he wasn't worried she'd notice.

Steph had hated the attention she continued to receive after her body was changed by the serum and the government paraded her as a showgirl. In time she'd learned to just tune out the leering looks and sexually-charged comments, and traded her skirts and dresses for more practical — and more masculine — pieces. She hadn't wanted her body to become her defining trait, and yet for many people, it was.

Bucky calling her beautiful though? Staring at her, touching her? God, she loved it. It was a different kind of high, and it helped that he kept repeating that he'd always thought her beautiful, always loved her before the serum. Perhaps that was why she straddled his lap in the first place. She quietly promised herself she'd go down on him later.

For now, she let herself enjoy being loved, being touched, being desired, and she was surprisingly vocal about it. She moaned and gasped, closing her eyes and tipping her head back a little when it got too good, while her fingers remained curled in his hair.

"Fuck." Her hips began to shift restlessly, chasing some manner of friction. "Don't stop, baby."

The sounds coming out of Steph were like music to Bucky's ears, and the fact that he was the one who was bringing them out of her was amazing. While he left his metal hand on her ass, he moved his other back to her hip, where he let his fingertips drift over the waistband of her shorts. He even bit gently at her nipple before removing his mouth from her chest.

"Tell me what you want?" It came out as more of a request than a demand as he looked up at her. His expression was pure love and adoration, and there was nothing he wouldn't do for her if she asked. And that went for both in and out of the bedroom.

But at the same time, he didn't want to do anything that she wasn't ready for, or touch her in places she wasn't comfortable with yet.

"I—" Steph felt her face burn at the question. She stopped moving for a moment and just looked back at Bucky, struck by the tenderness she found on his face. Not because it was new, but because it wasn't. He'd looked at her in the same way before, she just... didn't let herself believe that it meant what it did.

Still, articulating what she wanted, especially in this, was not something she was good at. She wasn't used to it. She wasn't used to wanting. Sometimes when she let her guard down she would get carried away, like what had happened just a while back, when she'd taken it upon herself to be the one on top. But being asked to say it felt like imposing, and she didn't want to be a burden.

"Well..." She licked her lips. The words would not come, and her blush only worsened the more she tried to make herself say it. His hand was already on her hip though, so instead of using words, she just gently guided it under the waistband of her shorts. As he cupped her over her panties she saw realization bloom on his face that she was wet, and, once more, her cheeks felt like they'd been set aflame.

"If I had known you'd be back, I would've worn lace," she joked, if only to hide her embarassment. Then she added, shyly, "Probably easier if I just take them all off, huh."

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i hate using the same icon twice in a row but this is the face he's making dammit

also his face in those pictures 😌