dysmorphics | open post

At the feeling of Steph's hips shifting--almost grinding--against him, Bucky groaned again, his hands tightening slightly on her thighs. If she had been taller, she would probably have been able to feel the way he was hardening in his pants. How could he not be, with the woman he'd loved since he was a kid in his arms, moaning and rubbing against him?

He bit gently at the curve of Steph's neck before sucking a mark onto it, the caveman part of his brain wanting to lay claim to her in a way he'd pictured many times as a teenager. So often he had thought about how easy it would have been to cover her pale neck with hickeys, but at least he only left the one instead of a half dozen.

Kissing back up to her ear, he whispered a soft, "I love you," into it before nipping at the lobe. He just wanted his mouth on her, dammit.

Bucky's hands tightening on her thighs only made Steph rub against him again. She had it so bad for him — and had been holding it in for so long — that he wouldn't have to do much to make her wet. He certainly had, unknowingly, on many occasions. If he realized he had that much power over her was anyone's guess, but she honestly wouldn't be upset if he decided to use it.

"I love you too," she returned with a ragged breath. God, she loved having his mouth on her. "Tellement, espèce d'idiot," she added in French, remembering what he said about knowing more languages now and thinking it would be kind of cute.

[ *So much, you dumbass. ]

Chuckling softly at that, Bucky pulled back just far enough to look at her. His face was a bit red, his eyes were blown with lust, and he looked happy for once. Because why wouldn't he be? Steph was in his arms, enjoying his hands and mouth on her. It was something he'd only ever imagined. A lot.

"I'm still shit at French, sweetheart," he began, leaning in to brush the tip of his nose against hers. "But I'm pretty sure you just called me an idiot." That was one of those words that was similar in a surprising number of languages, not even just romance languages.

"But as long as you know I'm your idiot, it's fine." He kissed across her jaw again, then whispered in her ear, "Te las să mă numești cum vrei."

[Romanian *I'll let you call me anything you want.]

"What? No way," Steph said with an incredulous laugh. Guess some things never change. Like being in love with your best friend, and Bucky being shit at French.

He looked happy now though. And he hadn't been earlier, not with Cap's shocking departure. Steph was glad to see it. She would do anything to make him happy — now including, apparently, protecting him from herself.

"I don't know what that means, but holy shit, say it again." And here she thought he couldn't get any sexier. He could definitely make her wet just by whispering into her ear like that.

"No French, no Italian, no Spanish," Bucky shrugged. Two of those languages would have been useful in 2023 New York, but, oh well. He could communicate with more people than most.

Using a combination of the wall and his metal hand to hold her up, he looked at her again. His natural hand came up to run through her hair as his eyes locked on hers. "Cu sau fără ser, ești cea mai frumoasă femeie pe care am văzut-o vreodată." She might not be able to understand him, but there was a very good chance she would be able to tell that he meant whatever it was he said.

[*With or without the serum, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.]

Steph considered that Bucky might be shitting her, just saying anything since she didn't understand a single word anyway, but it didn't matter. He could recite the colors of the rainbow in German or whatever and she would still melt into a helpless puddle. Who wouldn't, with the way he was looking at her? There was an extra intensity in his gaze now too, something she wasn't sure the Bucky back in '43 had... yet.

"And here you said you didn't have it in you anymore, old man," she teased. He was being very charming right now. If she didn't already have her legs around him, or if she wasn't already pinned to the wall, she'd have gone right to it. So she just touched her fingers to his lips and said, "I think you've outdone yourself."

Chuckling softly, Bucky pressed a soft kiss to the pads of Steph's fingers. "You must bring it out of me," he told her simply. "It's either that, or the fact that I'm actually allowed to tell you how I feel about you now." No one had more practice with bottling things up than he did. Not even Steph, considering she'd only been alive for a whole 25 years.

"I gotta make sure your eyes stay on me, though. The other Steph's got some interesting friends that are gonna want to meet you," he said, perking a brow at her. "The one I know best is a king. Hell, another one of her friends is an actual Norse God." If anyone could turn Steph's head, it would probably be Thor. Bucky didn't actually know him, had never spoken to him, but he'd seen him on the news enough to know he could probably turn anyone's head.

He was looking... a bit rough at Stark's funeral, though.

Okay, that Cap was friends with kings and gods was impressive. Who would've thought the likes of plain little Stephanie Rogers would become a living legend and all that? But that was irrelevant to Steph's relationship with Bucky.

"Don't be stupid," she said almost immediately. "I don't care about any of that. I only care about you." She knew that with utmost certainty. Cap would not have done what she did if her interests had been swayed. And Steph was here, pinned to a wall with no plans of leaving.

She let her hand slide back into his hair and leaned in to kiss him again. "I'll only ever be yours, darling," she promised, not even breaking the kiss to make it. When she did, it was to ask, "You know I'm still a virgin right?" The flush of color on her face darkened at that. "You left for the war without telling me anything and I still haven't looked at anyone else. They could be a god or a king, but they're not you."

Bucky smiled into the kiss as Steph made her promise, then at her statement, his own face went a bit darker as well. "That makes two of us then, sweetheart, cause I've never been with anyone either." Not by choice. But that part could be left out, potentially forever. They didn't count.

"You're the only girl I've ever wanted to be with." Sure, he had dates when he was younger, but none of those were serious. He'd kissed some of them only because they initiated it, but not once had he ever done anything more than that. He'd never wanted to, and a couple of girls had tried to get him to. Every one of them got shot down.

Bucky Barnes had been waiting his whole, very long life to be with Stephanie Rogers, and no one else would do.

"Really? I thought you and, what's her name..." Steph found herself still feigning ignorance about the women Bucky had dated, when in fact she knew about each one, and she'd gone to bed angry and crying every single time. Force of habit; it had been easier to contain her heartache and resentment that way. And for her, it had only been a few years.

Traces of those past hurts resurfaced in her eyes then, a consequence of the reminder. Stephanie Rogers might have blazing confidence and righteous fury when it came to defending others, but she'd always been plagued by her insecurities. She thought now of Cap, who had been made perfect in every way, and doubted if she could ever compare.

(Well, almost perfect; Cap's plan was still a shitty one, and she was a dumbass for never having said a word to Bucky about her feelings.)

Bucky perked a brow at her as he shook his head. "I don't even know which girl you're talking about, but I can promise I never did anything with her. Couple of 'em kissed me, but nothing more than that. I wouldn't even fool around with any girls when I was on leave in the army, no matter how my buddies teased me for waiting for you."

Grinning, he leaned in to kiss her again for a moment. "But you, dove, I've been holding you up against a wall, your legs around my waist, a love bite on your neck, and, you're a little too high up to be able to tell yourself, but you've got me hard as a rock. I've officially done more with you than anyone else." Bucky Barnes, over a century old, had been waiting for the right woman all along.

"Kissed you," Steph couldn't help teasing, grinning as well when Bucky leaned in to kiss her. Of course women kissed him. About half of the girls in their class, through the years, had been interested in him, and even some of the boys.

(The gays, at least, didn't go out of their way to be mean to Steph, and she'd gladly chewed out those who gave them trouble for being queer. The women were particularly nasty though. Not that Steph understood why they hated her so much... until now.)

Bucky verbally recounting what they were in the middle of made Steph blush all the way to her neck, unused to such things being said out loud. She appreciated the reminder though. He'd always known how to pull her head out of her ass, including the times she was disappointed in herself.

"Sorry. I just... I was always so jealous," she admitted quietly. She would either be in a foul mood the day after his dates, or secretly delighted when he dropped by her apartment after calling it a night with what's her name. "And I felt so stupid for hoping that one day things would change, that one day you'd... see me."

"Hey, they initiated it, and I never felt anything special when they did it. Not like when you kiss me. Or I kiss you." When Bucky kissed Steph, it felt right. Important. Almost magic. When those girls kissed him, it felt awkward and wrong, and he couldn't wait to pull away.

"You had nothing to be jealous of, sweetheart," Bucky said, his voice soft as he watched her. "I only ever wanted you, but I thought you only saw me as a friend. Or worse, a brother type. I was biding my time until you, I don't know. Started looking at me different or something." But she never looked at him any differently. Turned out, that was probably because she had always been looking at him like she wanted to be with him, just like he did with her. "Some of my dates even snapped at me that I shoulda been on a date with you instead of them. I think everyone but us knew."

"God, we really were idiots," Steph remarked with a laugh. Because she had thought the same, that Bucky only saw her as a friend, or worse, a sister, when they had been pining for each other like dumbasses all along. "I hope she took all the stupid with her. If she didn't, we gotta let it go, Buck. Find it a new home."

That they were talking about their feelings was a step in the right direction, at least. "No more secrets now," she said, more solemnly. "You don't gotta tell me everything you went through during the war," she clarified, "but no more secrets like, I love you and I wanna fuck you, Stephanie. Okay?"

She had some idea of the horrors of war from the stories of those who'd lived through the first one. He was entitled to keep those ghosts to himself, but she would share in his burden if he would let her. It would be his call to make though. She was just going to be there, taking care of him, loving him.

Dropping his natural hand back to Steph's thigh so he could hold her up securely, Bucky finally moved her away from the wall and easily carried her back into the living room. "Steph, I think at this point it better be obvious that I love you and I wanna fuck you," he said with a soft chuckle as he sat down on the couch with her in his lap. "More than anything, I just want to be with you."

Bucky would never try to minimize what other people had been through, but he had been through a lot. "I'm sure I'll tell you some things here and there," he began, keeping his eyes on her. "But the war... It was easy compared to the shit that came after. It's that time the trial's gonna be about. I'll fill you in on some of that later, alright? So it won't be a shock when you hear about it while I'm on the stand, or however it's gonna work. But I don't want to think about that stuff right now. I want to think about you, and how pretty you are when you blush."

"No more secrets, though."

Steph's thoughts drifted to the red notebook that spooked Bucky so badly. Cap had called it evidence, so it had to have something to do with whatever went down after the war. "Okay," she said simply, kissing him on the cheek. "But only when you wanna talk about it, and only what you feel I should know."

Speaking of which, she frowned. "They won't make me testify, will they?" She didn't know how those things worked. More importantly, what would she even say, when she hadn't lived those years? Would they accept that she wasn't the Rogers they knew, or would that put him in a precarious position? What if Cap had knowledge of something that could clear his name? She had to have considered that, right?

But he said he didn't want to think about that, so Steph mumbled a sheepish, "Sorry," and, in apology, shifted to straddle his lap. Now she could feel that he was hard as a rock, which did wonders to her own libido. "This better?"

"Steph, there's nothing you need to be sorry about." Bucky was actually about to expand on that, but he felt her weight settle on his erection and he ended up letting out a soft groan instead.

"Yeah, that's definitely better," he said, nodding as he moved his hands to initially rest on her hips, then slid down to the bare skin of her thighs again. She'd been in his lap a thousand times in the past, but it was always when she was sick, or if the subway was crowded, those sorts of things. There had even been a couple of times when he'd had to make an excuse to get up because he felt himself just beginning to get excited and didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

But for once he was allowed to let her feel what she did to him. "Just promise me you won't do anything you're not ready for yet?"

Bucky's large, strong hands on her bare thighs was one of Steph's favorite things now, so much that she ground against his erection not just for the sweet friction it sparked, but also to prompt his fingers to tighten around her flesh and move higher up her legs.

"Promise," she answered, already a little breathless in anticipation. She'd have said something about being old and having waited enough to be long ready, but she was too distracted to be a little punk about it. Instead she continued to thrust her hips, slowly, sensually, savoring the way it made them both feel.

She'd imagined this so many times. Her favorite was being on his lap while he read to her, and as he recited the words into her ear he would slip a hand under her skirt and up her thigh. She never accounted for how hard he might be until now though, or the look he would be giving her; her sketches were going to need updating.

The way Steph was grinding against him did it's job. He slid his hands further up her thighs, just slightly under the hem of her shirt-dress, and squeezed. Considering he was wearing thin pajama pants and his underwear, Bucky could feel every move she made. His eyes slid closed for a moment as he bit down on his lip, arching up under her slightly to press against her in return.

"Jesus, baby doll," he said, voice low as he opened his eyes to look at her again. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" The way he watched her, eyes blown and breathing just slightly rough, probably gave it away. "What you've always done to me?"

Part of him wanted to just pick her up and toss her onto a bed, but at the same time, part of him wanted to savor his first chance to be with her in whatever way she wanted. He didn't want to push her too far and she'd been through so much that day. But fuck, he wanted her.

Steph's expression was a mirror of his; somewhat dazed, eyes a little wild, breathing rather ragged. Bucky's hips lifting under her didn't help matters. She was pretty sure he could feel in turn how wet she already was, but for the first time, she couldn't find it in her to be embarrassed.

Her face lit up at 'baby doll'. She hated it when anyone called her little or anything infantalizing — and she'd gotten that so much growing up — but he made it sound so sweet. He could call her anything, really, and she would bask in it.

"I think I do." She rocked her hips teasingly, but it backfired on her as a moan escaped her instead. She stilled for a moment then, cupping his cheek with fingers that surprisingly trembled and resting her forehead against his. "So, um. Are we gonna fuck or do you need more time...?"

A lot had happened today for both of them. But she wasn't the one who got abandoned by the love of his life, and even if Steph was the same person, technically, she would understand if he needed time to process that before getting on with her. They had time. Besides, she was already used to waiting.

Bucky shouldn't have been surprised by just how blunt Steph was when asking if they were going to fuck, but he was. He liked it though.

With a soft groan, he pressed up against her one more time before picking her up by her waist and setting her on her feet, then quickly got to his own feet, suddenly thankful for the plaid print on his pants because if they had been a solid color the wet spot from where his cock had been leaking would be visible.

But Steph might have also left a visible wet spot on him and, honestly? He thought that would have been hot.

Not wanting to lose contact with her entirely, Bucky took her hand and laced their fingers together as he led her back to her bedroom, then had her sit on the bed, as he moved to the bedside tables. Praying to find condoms or something in there (she'd planned everything else out so damn well, after all), he began to dig through the drawer on one side of the bed before getting annoyed and walking around to the other table.

Steph should probably have been less blunt about what she wanted, or at least pretend to be embarrassed, but if there was one thing she'd learned from constantly being sick, it was to seize the good things when they came, which wasn't all that often. And she had hoped for so long to have a shot at winning Bucky's affections that she wasn't about to turn down the opportunity now that it was here. She might be a dumbass, but she wasn't stupid enough to throw away a second chance.

She watched him rummage through the drawers, not really sure what to do now that they were. Should she take off her clothes? Freshen up in the bathroom first? Or just lie down and wait? Her friends never talked about this part, only how big their husbands' or boyfriends' cocks were, how many orgasms they had (if at all), or any disastrous incidents. (As fun as it would be to brag that her man could effortlessly pin her to wall, Steph wasn't the sort to kiss and tell.)

"It's okay if there ain't any," she called out after a while. Yeah, she was willing to risk it too. Seize the day and all that.

Grumbling a bit, Bucky closed the drawer. Apparently, she kept everything but condoms in there. Pencils, a small sketchbook, a book of crosswords. He'd even spotted at least one... toy, but he wasn't ready to pull that out of the drawer. Maybe some other day.

But he needed to move on and come up with another plan. "You have no idea how much I want to be bare in you, Steph," he said as he moved back to the bed and sat, angled to face her. "But you always said it was too dangerous for you to get pregnant one day." Not that that had stopped him from picturing a life with her, complete with a house, rings, and a kid or three.

An idea hit him then. "I could call the bodega, offer to pay them extra to bring us a box," he started, then leaned in to kiss and nuzzle at her neck for a moment. "Maybe go down on you until they get here."

Steph shouldn't have been surprised that even decades later, Bucky had not forgotten about her. There seemed to be some kind of defining line between Steph and Cap, on the basis of their health and appearance, and he could have simply left the past behind. But he still remembered her ailments and health concerns, even something she'd said only in passing. She hadn't liked talking about starting a family. It was something she'd always wanted, especially being an only child, but 1) she'd thought the boy he loved wasn't interested in her at all, and 2) having a child could potentially kill her, nevermind what conditions she might pass on to the baby. So she'd spoken of it only once, and that was that. Yet Bucky remembered.

She threw her arms around him then, squeezing tight. For a while she didn't say anything, only a quiet, "Thank you." She was probably ruining the atmosphere, but it had to be said.

Then he was nuzzling her neck and offering alternatives. God, she loved him so much. "Or you could pull out and finish in my mouth?" There was still a chance she might get pregnant, but it wasn't like she would keel over then and there if she did. She'd talked to some doctors at the hospital about that.

Bucky wrapped his arms around her just as tightly, groaning softly in her ear at her suggestion. "What are you thanking me for, Steph? I didn't do anything special." He didn't think he did. All he did was give other options.

"Jesus that sounds hot, but let me at least try calling them first?" he murmured against her ear. "Much as I thought about making a family with you in the past, I sure as hell don't wanna risk you. We still need to talk to doctors to see what kind of help they have for you now that they didn't then." Bucky shifted to press another kiss to her lips before pulling away and standing. He'd left his phone in the living room, and it didn't take long for him to look up the phone number for the place on the corner and give them a call.

A couple minutes and a $200 promise later (expensive, especially to Bucky's old man standards, but at least he'd been in modern time for a little while), he came back into the bedroom with a smirk on his face. "Someone should be by in a few minutes," he said as he got back into his place beside the tiny blonde. "When we visit a doctor we can ask what other kinds of birth control there are now. I know there's something else."

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