𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩 𝘙𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 (
dysmorphics) wrote2026-01-03 02:28 pm
Entry tags:
it's you and me up against the world, it's you and me
I don't need a parachute, baby if I've got you
Baby if I've got you, I don't need a parachute
You're gonna catch me,
You're gonna catch if I fall
( 🎶 )

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Plus, it wasn't like she was alone there. Bucky couldn't imagine anything in his life being bad enough that he stopped loving Stephanie Rogers, so he felt confident that the other version of himself still had feelings for her. Why wouldn't he?
"Of course I'm sure, Steph. I've known you were it for me since we were teenagers."
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Though if she and this Bucky ended up talking about marriage, of all things, then it was just as likely that their counterparts were already having this conversation too. Some things seemed to be constant in both their lives: the stupid, shitty luck, and each other.
"But I'll be with you, as long as you still want me." She hugged him a little tighter, almost as if silently begging, please, please don't let me go. "I've wanted to be with you since we were teenagers too."
Then, with a soft laugh, she gently pulled away to reach around him and tug at something she'd stuck on the fridge with a magnet. She handed him the paper, which was a bill in her alias, Gracie Barnes. "Kinda even borrowed your name already," she said sheepishly.
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He looked away only long enough to make sure the counter wasn't wet where he set down the paper, then turned to face his girl again, snagging one of her hands in the process. "So what do you say, Rogers?" Bucky began, twisting their fingers together as he tilted his head just slightly. "You wanna become Stephanie Grace Barnes tomorrow? Will you marry me?"
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"Yes." She flung her arms around him. "Yes, yes." Then she was sobbing again, though this time it was from joy. "Thank you."
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"Hey, you don't need to thank me," he said, pressing his face into her hair as he held her close. "It's not like you're doing me some kinda favor, sweetheart. I've always known I'd only ever get married if it was you." And she couldn't even pull the but that's the other me card, because he came to that decision years before Bucky went to Europe, therefor it was years before their timelines split.
Reaching up, Bucky tucked Steph's hair behind her ear before pressing some soft kisses to her jaw. "Guess this means it's my last night as an unmarried man, huh?"
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She laughed softly when he kissed her jaw, both because it kind of tickled, and because of his comment. "You can go round up your pals and celebrate, if you wanna."
She didn't want him to leave, but they were getting married tomorrow, and if he wanted to have one last outing or whatever then she wasn't going to stop him. She wasn't sure what men did now (it was still weird to think of 1947 as now) but she remembered Tony and the others talking about stag parties and some of the crazy shit that were involved in them. Mostly alcohol and women, neither of which Bucky seemed to particularly care about, but maybe he'd like the camaraderie or the opportunity for some normalcy. Most of the Howlies worked for the SSR now too, and there was Howard, who Tony had clearly taken after in the having fun front.
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He pressed a couple more kisses to her jaw before pulling back enough to look at her. "I don't wanna go anywhere, Steph. I was just... making an observation." Leaning in, Bucky pressed another short, soft kiss to her lips, then bit gently at her lower lip. "I just didn't expect to leave work my usual surly self today, then be married to my dreamgirl by the next time I go to work."
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But if he didn't want to go anywhere she was more than happy with that. "I'm gonna have to make sure you enjoy your last night as a bachelor then," she teased further, grinning against his lips. "Can't get us better booze, but I can improvise on the entertainment."
Kissing him back, she slowly herded him back toward where they'd been dining and into one of the chairs. She straddled his lap, though she was careful not to do so with her full weight as the chair might not be able to hold them both. She'd never actually done this before, not even during her many years in the future, but she knew what to do on principle at least.
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Steph, on the other hand, was his best friend. They might have had to force him to go to the bar or wherever, but it didn't take more than a gentle nudge from Steph for Bucky to follow her to the chair.
He sat and placed his hands on her hips, grinning up at her. "You got something in mind, beautiful?"
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"You never did get a proper homecoming, did you, Sarge?" For sure he had even more women lining up to date him than when they were younger, and without being joined at the hip with a certain tiny blonde they probably thought they finally stood a chance. The joke was on them.
She didn't get any sort of homecoming from the war either, just Fury's dumb idea of easing her into the future via a little roleplaying (she'd apologized to the poor agent for the scare), after which she went to visit Bucky's grave. She then spent days crying and destroying punching bags at the gym, and only when she didn't feel like jumping off a bridge and drowning herself anymore did she visit Becca and Peggy.
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None of those times had been with her straddling his lap and looking at him like that.
"I got offers," Bucky began, letting his hands slide down Steph's thighs in those--God he had a hard time thinking of them as pants. They really were more like thick pantyhose or smooth long johns--pants, then back up to her hips again. "But I didn't want any of them. Just you."
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"Can't blame them for trying," she said, now with a touch more color on her cheeks. She was no prude, but she'd never done this before, and she didn't want to mess things up because she wanted this to be special for him. "Dumb of me not to. I've thought about it so many times, but I didn't want to risk losing you."
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When you thought about it (and Bucky had, many times over the years), the way Bucky and Steph spent their days and evenings together most of the time could have easily been seen as dates. But, Bucky didn't think Steph was interested in him, so he never let himself too hard about that. Really, though, the only thing they were missing to become official dates would have been kissing.
They were both idiots. Hell, here they were, a couple hours into being a couple and they already had plans to get married the next day. Guess they were just... extremely all or nothing.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, keeping his eyes locked on hers. Sure, there were plenty of basic ideas he had, things about he he'd always wanted to see, or things he wanted to do with her, but he was sure she had some ideas, too. Plus, hey, maybe she learned some other things in the future.
Either way, he was incredibly easy when it came to Steph Rogers.
"I've never done any of this before, so just... tell me if you want something."
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Besides, what mattered was that they were getting married tomorrow, and they were together now.
So she just unclipped his suspenders and smiled at him. "Whatever you've wanted to do with me." Then, suddenly shy, she ducked her head and worked on unbuttoning his shirt, starting with the one on the collar. "I've never done this before either. The one I wanted never offered. I love him though."
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And her eyes and smile were still the same for him now, she was just in a taller, curvier body. He didn't want her any more or less because of her new body. He just wanted her.
"I'm offering now," he told her, his own face turning a bit red as he grinned. He was fairly certain that he had more layers of clothes on than Steph did, so he didn't go trying to strip her just yet--even though he really wanted to see and feel her naked against him. Instead, he just let the fingers on her hip drift slightly under the hem of that sleeveless shirt she wore, and over her bare, soft skin. "And I would have offered then if I thought you'd take me up on it."
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She visibly paused when she felt his fingers on the bare skin under her shirt. She didn't moan, not yet, but her breath hitched and her eyes fell shut for a moment. Did he never notice the effect he had on her? Or did he just not allow himself to hope in fear that he was reading her wrong? She'd always been affectionate with him. She'd held his hand, brushed his hair, helped him get dressed, snuggled next to him in bed, and looked into his eyes a little too long and a little too longingly. The line that they had to cross from friendship to something else was nearly non-existent; what held them back, ironically, was just themselves.
But they were past that, so nothing stopped her from opening his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders and arms and leaving it to fall on the floor. Then she took his hands and guided them to the hem of her tank top, just in case he felt he still needed permission to take it off her.
"Sorry there ain't anywhere more comfortable here," she apologized with a soft laugh. "Don't really have a bed. Or a couch. Didn't think I'd need much or have anyone over."
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Bucky had no issue letting his button down hit the floor, but he still had his damn undershirt on, because in the 40s people wore too many layers. (Also, it was January in New York. So.) He considered going ahead and pulling the under shirt off himself, but Steph was guiding his hands to her shirt, encouraging him to undress her, and who was he to complain about that?
"Sweetheart, I was in the Army. I don't need a bed," he said, smirking up at her. For the moment he wasn't tugging at her shirt. Yet. "But if you come live with me after the wedding, you'll have a bed. And a couch. Even a coffee table." He was teasing her a little, sure, but he did have those things. There was no way his ma and Becca were going to let him move into an apartment without furniture, even if he was furious at them when they insisted on either supplying him with the pieces or dragging him out to force him to pick something himself.
Then he slid Steph's shirt up and over her head, letting his fingers drift lightly up her sides in the process. Once it was off her, (and half noticing that shit, that fabric was stretchy, but that'd be something to look at later), he let her shirt join his on the floor. Once that was done, he let his eyes roam over her as his hands went back slide up her sides again, then let out a soft groan as he let himself cup her breasts over her full bra.
"You're still beautiful, Steph," he told her as he locked his eyes back on hers.
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She was laughing when they broke off. Fuck, he was so hot when he smirked and looked at her like that. "If I move in? I mean, I have a really nice apartment in 2023 but I left it with him and she's probably staying there too." She kissed him again. "I hope your furniture's sturdy." She sounded like she was kidding, but jokes were half-meant and she certainly meant part of that.
He took the words out of her — and also her breath — when he started touching her though. Because fuck, she'd long wondered what it would be like if he did, and it was everything and nothing like she imagined. You're still beautiful, she heard him say, and she looked a little dazed when she met his gaze. That was probably the most fascinating part, his reaction. She had never really felt comfortable in the body the serum gave her, despite the knowledge that it was objectively beautiful, but for the first time, it felt right. She felt at home.
No, she felt at home with him.
"I know. I've been voted Sexiest Woman Alive five times." It was true, but joking around was her way of dealing with compliments. She didn't doubt that he meant it, it was just still a little hard to believe any of this was happening at all.
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"If it's not sturdy enough, I'll get more," he told her with a grin when the kiss broke. It wasn't a surprise that Steph was willing to move to his place, of course. But with how much she was clearly looking after the other girls here, there was that little bit of him that worried she wouldn't. And if she didn't want to, he would have respected that.
But god, he wanted her in his home every day and in his bed every night.
"Only five times?" he teased. "If it was up to me you'd get it every year."
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(It was definitely, uh, pressing. Which just led to more squirming.)
Between his teasing about getting new furniture in case they break any, his compliments, their kissing that was growing more and more heated, and his groping her breasts, she was pretty sure she was already flushed from head to toe. That didn't stop her from working off the fastenings of his pants so she could tug his undershirt up and over his head.
Was she nervous? Of course she was. But she wanted him more, and all those years of pining and yearning only made her reckless with her desires. Surely she couldn't fuck things up more than she already had, not when he was a willing participant in this.
"You're so hot," she whispered, almost reverently, as she ran her fingertips along his shoulders, then down his chest, her blue eyes hungrily following their trail. Her love for him went beyond appearances, of course, but holy shit, he always looked so fine and now she didn't have to pretend she never noticed.
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Bucky was also nervous, of course, but he was willing to try his best to ignore that feeling for the time being. Instead, he turned his head and began to kiss down Steph's neck towards her bare shoulder while his hands slid around to her back. He fumbled a bit at Steph's bra clasp (what were these things closed with, combination locks?), but eventually got it unhooked.
"You're the hot one," he said, grinning up at her as he helped the straps slide down her upper arms, then stretched up to press their lips together again.
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She kept a hand in his hair, while the other was splayed on his back, fingertips digging into his flesh whenever he happened to come across a particularly sensitive spot. It seemed she had several: the side of her neck, her nipples, the insides of her thighs. They moved together, exploring and tasting each other, and by the time he was sucking on her nipple she was moaning loudly and grinding against him.
"Buck," she whimpered. "We should probably—" She was worried they were going to fall over, and that would kill the mood very quickly. So she shifted to stand back up, pulling him along with her and leaving hungry, open-mouthed kisses on any patch of skin she could get to. That they made it on top of the sleeping bag she used as a bed was quite a feat considering how neither of them wanted to stop kissing and groping to do so.
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But when she whimpered his name like that, his arms tightened around her waist for a moment as his eyes cut up to look at her face, teeth tugging gently at the nub. When she encouraged him to get up he finally released her, nodding and stood with her. "Yeah. Your bedroom sounds better," he said, smirking as he followed her easily, but didn't let her go. Instead he kept an arm around her waist as he pressed his lips to her neck again, trusting that Steph knew her own apartment well enough to not run them into too many walls.
It wasn't until Bucky had Steph on her back that he pulled back from her. He smirked down at her as he sat up on his knees, letting his hands slide down her sides to her waist before coming to a stop. "Can I-?" he asked, his fingertips under the waistband of her pants giving away what he wanted to do. When she gave him a nod, Bucky hooked the elastic waistband--along with the band of her panties at the same time--and slid those stretchy, formfitting pants down her long, strong legs.
"Christ, sweetheart," he half whispered as he dropped her clothes aside, his eyes roaming over her naked body as he reached down to rub himself through his pants without thinking.
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being naked for a moment, but for a different reason entirely. Bucky liked what he was seeing. She'd expected to at least be good enough now that she had a better body thanks to the serum, but he looked at her like he wanted to fuck her all night, and hell, she wanted him to.
"All yours, baby," she promised, gazing back at him just as hungrily. She reached forward to place a hand over the one he was rubbing himself with, joining along for a bit until she wiggled her fingers underneath so she could do it herself.
"Fuck," she gasped as she groped his cock (even just through his pants) for the very first time after years of only imagining it. Her drawings hadn't been far off, actually. He was a nice good size, not that it would've mattered to her anyway, as long as it was him.
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His cock sprang to attention once his clothes were out of the way, and he shifted to be able to rid himself of his pants and boxers entirely--as well as his socks and shoes--leaving him just as bare as she was. Grinning, he stretched out, holding himself up over her. "I love you so much, Steph," he said simply before leaning down to kiss her hard once again. He let one arm hold his weight up while he moved his other hand to grope at her breast again, flicking a thumb over her nipple just because he could.
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