Pairing: Plus size
reader x Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes
Setting: Post Infinity War, the world has magically gone
back to normal…
Rating: T
For the gorgeous @winters-beauty because she really likes
this type of challenge.
With a prompt like “your body is not ruined” I know most folks are thinking of
post-pregnancy or something but I’ve gone a different way, based on my own
recent experiences. This is post major
illness where reader has to adjust to change.
Hence some of her reactions here are based on loss of health of course,
and control, and having to adjust to a new reality.
Fortunately her two guys have some experience with
that.
————————–
“Help!!”
The panicked cry that suddenly
tumbles from your mouth brings your boyfriends running from the living room.
“Y/N?! Jarvis!?” Steve is the first
to skid to a halt at the bedroom door, blond brows creasing in anxiety and hands
glued to the frame, ready to propel himself against whatever threat lurks
inside. His frown and tanned bulk take
up all the open space, block the escape route as he quickly scans the room, reconning
automatically for any one of several unpleasant situations.
Intruder?
Explosion?
Lethal virus?
Nope.
Nothing quite so deserving of
an American hero’s skills.
A/N: This fic is for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan ‘s Body Positive Writing Challenge (which I LOVE btw, good on you boo). My prompt was: Weight does not dictate your worth. Which I 100% agree it does NOT. I hope you all like this. Let me know what you think. Every like, ask, reblog, and reply is greatly appreciated! ♥
Word Count: 1,064
Tags: (at the end)
Warnings:
– none, maybe language?
– implied smut after the fic is over 😉
*gif is not mine (found on google, unable to find direct source)
Standing in front of your large, wall length
mirror, you did a little spin in the dress Thor had mailed to you. Bruce had
brought it up earlier and chucked it on the bed with a grin. It was your date
night; a rare night that you and Thor got to yourselves. It was a night free of
Avengers and godlike responsibilities, and you looked forward to it whenever it
came around. Thor made it a tradition to purchase you a new dress to wear each
time. He knew your figure, every inch and curve of your anatomy, so you always
trusted him to pick out the best dress.
Word Count: 1425 ish Warnings: Anxiety. One swear. Fluff. A/N: This is for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan’s Full Figured Fantasy challenge. It’s astoundingly late, but I hope you all like it. Please leave feedback! ☺
“This is a bad idea!” you muttered to yourself as you paced up and down the room, wringing your hands together.
“Calm down. It’s going to be okay.” his soft voice came from across the room.
“No, it’s not! They’re going to ridicule me! I can sense it!” you almost shrieked, your hands flying to your temples and raking through your hair.
“No-one is going to ridicule you.” he stood and made his way over to you, hands covering yours and bringing them back down to your sides.
Summary: A Marvel AU fic. You and Sam Wilson were colleagues first and friends second. You were both top of the resident pool in a prestigious orthopedic surgical residency program, which left no time to start or cultivate real relationships. You had earned the spot through relentless efforts on every front, despite unwanted opinions that your plus-size pear-shaped self couldn’t hack it, and you were not interested in a relationship that could pose even the slightest risk to derailing your dream. A well-timed offer of the often-discussed, but seldom observed “sex with no strings,” started something that made you more than smile.
Word Count: 1600
Pairing: Sam Wilson x Plus-size reader insert
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUTTY SMUT. If sex without strings isn’t your thing, please don’t read. If a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to get it isn’t your thing, you should move on to the next worthy fic. If a black man and a white woman isn’t your thing, this isn’t for you. Other than that ENJOY!
A/N: I wanted to write, but didn’t feel like starting another multi-chapter serious fic with all the necessary elements to make it as good as this fandom deserves. So, I took an idea an kinda ran a little ways with it. What do y’all think? Good? Crap? I have a thought for one more part, so, as always, I treasure your opinions about it is warranted. Thank you so much to @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan for the Sam discussion, it planted the seed! 🙂
First, people were surprised. They tried to hide it under giggles or nervous observations, but they were shocked. Then, they assumed you were unhappy or had a preference for self-flagellation if you were in a casual relationship that was based on sex. Neither of you told more than a few close friends, but those that knew worried about you. They didn’t need to. You and the guy worked in the same building, doing jobs that were so frantic there was little time to consider emotions, feelings, or the tangled vines of a relationship.
Summary: Today was a new day. After a long and emotional night, Sunday dawned and you felt like yourself again. Except now, feeling like yourself had a new meaning – being in love with Steve Rogers. You had a day to yourselves and spent it together. It was a day of firsts, including your first motorcycle ride. It was a day to celebrate each other whatever way you wanted, and it was a day to feel things you had never felt before.
Word Count: 4800
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Plus-size OFC
Warnings: Fluff, family and new relationship drama, and explicit sexual content that is NSFW 18+. SERIOUSLY.
Author note: Welcome to the “things get better” chapter! I loved writing this one, but definitely needed some time to put all the random plot points together in a coherent way. I’d love to know if you think I’m dragging this out too long or if the pace is good and keeps you wanting more. I don’t want to frustrate anyone with waiting! Again, thank you for reading and commenting. It means the world to me.
You both said it. You both said, “I love you,” and the apocalypse didn’t dawn. After your huge emotional release the night before (a polite way of saying a breakdown), a good night’s sleep, and your declarations of love, you felt incredible. You had the whole day ahead of you, with no work, no obligations, and a wonderful boyfriend. You wanted to spend the day outside. As you sat in bed drinking coffee and barely containing giggles, you could not refrain from organizing your day.
“What do you want to do today?” Steve ran his hand down your arm as you leaned back into him. You could get used to this.
It’s gonna go to hell soon, isn’t it? Because it’s too perfect right now. I love it, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to them. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.
Prompt: life is so much more beautiful and complex than a number on a scale
Pairing: Peter Parker x Plus Size Reader
Words: 1863
Warnings: Fluff, Slight Negative Self Image, Mentions of injury
A/N: This is for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan ‘s full figured fanatsy writing challenge. I had so much fun writing it, so enjoy!
As you looked in the mirror, you couldn’t help but feel disappointment. A boy had ditched you on a date because you weren’t willing to lose weight to date him.
“You’re decent looking, but you could lose a few before we take things further.”
The words rang in your ears. Why did beauty have to equal thin these days? In the nineteen fifties women were raved to be big, the thicker the better. You also heard of a few girls being too skinny for some guys, who wanted the boobs a the bum, but not the girls who didn’t have the extra “assets”. You just wished one person interested in you could see past your weight, and get to know the person on the inside, what really mattered and defined you.
You also wished society wasn’t so shitty, like Ned and michelle’s relationship, who both were so totally different, but saw the good in each other. They had started dating a few months back and were what drives you to try to be patient for someone right at the time.
This is for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan‘s Full Figure Fantasy Writing Challenge (side note: I am so so so sorry this is a week late. Family issues took over and I didn’t get a chance to edit and upload until today. Thank you for understanding xoxo)
Prompt: “A figure with curves always offers a lot of interesting angles”
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Plus Sized Reader
Word Count: 1.3k
Sitting in the common room, you look up when you hear someone else enter. Steve is quietly shuffling towards the window with his sketchbook and a few pencils. You always loved to watch Steve draw. He was so relaxed, you could actually watch the tension leave his shoulders when he sat down to draw. In those rare occasions, you saw Steve. Not Captain America, not Steve Rogers: America’s Golden Boy, but just Steve. Who were you kidding. You didn’t just love to watch him draw. You loved everything about that man. From his playful demeanor you only get glimpses of, to his commanding Captain America voice, you had it bad. So naturally, you’ve never done anything about it. You watch him quietly get situated on the window seat before returning to your book and pay him no mind for the rest of the afternoon.
That night, you’re digging through your closet for something to wear. It always made you uncomfortable going out with Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper. Not because you girls didn’t get along, but because you weren’t a stick thin model. You just felt out of place with the others, as if everyone was staring trying to figure out why they would be hanging out with you. You were in no way fat, but having boobs, hips, an ass, and thighs made it quite obvious that you were no size 0. “I really fucking hate going out sometimes,” you let out as a sigh as you roll your eyes and toss another dress on the floor. You decide on a pair of black jeans and a white v-neck t-shirt paired with your black leather jacket and black boots. Simple, but curling your hair and adding a bold red lip added a nice flair to the outfit.
Summary: It feels like every other day you’re in Frank Adler’s garage while he looks under the hood of your beat-up vehicle, trying to diagnose the newest problem. He’s always been sweet about it; you coming in at the last second because you’re running late for work, always slashing the prices so you don’t go broke. One day, on your way into work, your radiator overheats, leaving you stranded on the side of the road. Knowing he won’t let you down, you call Frank. Ever the gentleman, he gives you a ride, but when he drops you off at work, he discovers a secret you had worked so hard to keep. You promised your boyfriend you’d never cheat, but now you’re not sure what you have could even be called love. What happens when Frank finds himself falling for you? Will he be able to keep himself from intervening in the toxic and tumultuous relationship you and your boyfriend have? Word Count: 1,490 Warnings: First and foremost, domestic violence; emotional, verbal, & physical. Language, heavy angst, insecure female reader, PTSD, no cheating, possibly more to come. Author’s Note: A huge thank you to @captain-rogers-beard for allowing me to steal some of her thunder. Your unwavering support has left me speechless. GIF credit [X]
My work is not to be posted on any other sites (AO3, Wattpad, etc.) without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.
Two days after filing the report, James showed up at the diner; drunk, hurling slurred obscenities your way, coming well within the five hundred feet restraining order. You threatened to call the police, but he just laughed in your face.
“They can’t protect you,” he sneered, his whiskey-laden breath making you gag.
You narrowly managed to avoid his vice-like grip on your upper arm. “Go home, James. This is your last warning.” Your voice was shaking, but you were glowering at him as if he were the last man on earth. You knew he could feel the hatred radiating off of you in waves, and you couldn’t help the burn of satisfaction in your chest as he took a step back.
“Mark my words, Y/N,” he started, finger pointed in your general direction. “You’ll remember who you belong to.”
“I belong to no one.” It had taken you years to finally realize that, and once you did, there was no turning back. You weren’t an object, a thing to have; you were a flesh-and-blood person, and you deserved to be treated as such.
There were flashing red and blue lights that made the diner feel like a rave. All that was missing was the obnoxious music and the crowd of people that pulsed with the beat.
“You fuckin’ cow,” James snarled.
Frank was at your side, a large and comforting presence, a phone in his hand, wearing a smirk as the police officers started to arrest James. You watched as the two men dragged James out of the diner, obscenities spat at you even as he was forced into the back of the squad car.
One of the officers came back in, asking, “Are you alright?”
“I am now,” you sighed, tears threatening to spill.
“Thank you for coming out so fast,” Frank said, his hand held out to the young officer.
The officer turned his gaze to you. “He’ll see the judge in the morning. You don’t have to be there, but it might help.”
Frank wrapped an arm around your shoulders as the squad drove away, waiting until it was out of sight before saying anything. “I’ll go with you, if you like.”
Without even thinking about it, you wrapped your arm around his waist and turned into him. “I would like that very much.”
“Forty Eight hours,” you huffed in frustration. “That’s all?”
Marge was seated at the table, a beer in her hand and a scowl on her brow. “Listen, I hate the bastard as much as you do, but -”
“No, don’t say it.” You were shaking your head, a hand raking through your hair as you paced around the kitchen.
“I don’t even wanna think it. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” her voice trailed off as she took a drink.
Your eyes fell to Marge, a woman who had become so much more than your manager in a short time. She had done more than walk a mile in your shoes when she was younger; your relationship with James was a mirror image of how her husband had treated her.
“There’s no history, just rumors. I should have come forward sooner, I know that, but… it’s not fair.” The tears you had miraculously held at bay started falling.
Frank came into the room, a set of keys in his hand. “I think we should get your stuff out of there while he’s locked up.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Marge agreed. “That way you know where he is and he can’t do a damn thing to stop you.”
You were nodding and wiping away your tears. “Will you come with me, Frank? I… I don’t want to go alone.”
He gave a reassuring smile and reached out for your hand, which you took and squeezed. “I wouldn’t dream of letting you go there alone.”
It was late the following afternoon by the time Frank brought you to the house you shared with James, and it was an utter mess; shards of glass littered the floor, beer bottles were overflowing from the sink, the garbage had started to rot, and everything you owned was strewn about the bedroom and living room. The sight of it, the place you had lived, had tried to make a home, made your heart drop.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled under your breath, moving to start cleaning up the mess.
Frank’s hand was on your wrist. “No, that’s not what you’re here to do.”
You went to apologize again, that feeling of never being good enough overwhelming you, as if everything were your fault, that you needed to make everything perfect. Frank was shaking his head, his crystal eyes gently probing into yours.
“Let’s get your things.”
As you were shoving your belongings into a large garbage bag, you kept peering over your shoulder. You were scared that James was going to come home. He would be enraged, having spent time in jail, having been… embarrassed by you, by your refusal to tuck tail and run to him, that you rejected him.
Frank was in the bedroom, grabbing some of your more personal items; the plain gold cross your mother gave to you for your sixteenth birthday, your parent’s wedding rings on a silver chain, and a set of earrings from your grandmother when you realized someone was behind you.
“You stupid cow,” James snarled, wrapping a hand in your hair and yanking you off the floor. Your hands were on his, nails digging in as you tried to break free.
Frank stormed into the room, confusion and anger in his eyes as he took in the sight before him. “Let her go, James,” he requested, his voice oddly calm.
“You,” James accused, his eyes dark and dangerous. “This is my home, my bitch. Get your own.”
“That’s no- not what’s hap- happening,” you stammered, praying you could lie your way out of this.
James whirled you around to face him. “You’d do best not to lie to me.” When he wrenched your head back, you saw Frank react, taking a step closer.
“I’m not, I swear,” you insisted, working hard to keep your voice calm. “Fra- Frank offered to help me clean up the place. That’s all.”
You could see that Frank didn’t like what you were doing but, he knew it was better to try and diffuse the bomb rather than burn the wick faster. Frank’s hand disappeared into his pocket for a quick moment, and that was all the time James needed to make up his mind.
“Nah,” he grunted, a dark gleam in his eyes. “I don’t fuckin’ buy it.”
Frank took a step closer, his hands out, his head shaking, but James wasted no time. It didn’t matter that you were bigger than most other women, James was strong, and he knew it. He shoved you away from him, sending you careening into Frank, and the two of you tumbled to the floor, grunting at the impact of both your body against his, and his against the wall, where you slid to the floor.
“Are you okay?” Frank gasped, his eyes scanning your face.
There was no time for you to answer. James was there, ripping Frank away from you and throwing a punch that connected with Frank’s jaw. You gave a scream, a plea for James to stop, but you should have known better; your protests had only ever fueled his aggression. Frank was seeing stars, shaking his head, his fists coming up to defend himself. If only James wasn’t so goddamn fast.
The back of Frank’s head hit the wall and his body went limp, landing on the floor in a crumpled heap. You scrambled over and put yourself between Frank and James’ foot as he swung it towards Frank, slamming into your shoulder, making you cry out.
“Shut up,” James screamed, unadulterated rage thrumming through him.
His hand was in your hair, yanking you from the floor, but you didn’t go quietly. You kicked and you screamed and you punched him in the chest and sides, screaming like a banshee, hellbent on making sure James knew you weren’t going to take anymore abuse from him. You were driving James back, his hands held up, trying to block your fists. The man might have had more muscles than you, but hell hath no fury…
With a shrill scream, you put your hands on his chest and shoved him with every ounce of strength you had, and it was as if everything went into slow motion. James fell back, his feet catching in the mess he had made while destroying the place. His dark eyes went wide with panic and his mouth was open, probably calling your name, but all you could hear was the rush of blood in your ears.
The second the back of his head hit the edge of the counter, the bubble popped, and James’ lifeless body fell to the floor.
So this here is my entry for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan‘s Full Figured Fantasy challenge. This kind of got away from me in that it turned out to be kind of autobiographical. Some of the things the reader mentions are things that have happened before in my life. This story ended up being kind of cathartic to write. Title taken from the Kacey Musgraves’ song.
You stood outside the brightly colored building,
breathing in deeply and holding it before exhaling, doing your best to pump
yourself up.
You can do this.
You have to
do this.
You pulled the door open and stepped inside, eyes
widening at the rows of machines, lined up like torture devices waiting for
their next victims.
Damn it, you were supposed to have a better attitude
about this.
You blew out a breath and walked past the treadmills
and machines you had no idea what they were or how they worked, and somehow
stumbled upon the front desk. A blonde girl with a high ponytail and a body
that looked like she should have been anywhere but this gym raised an eyebrow
at you before pasting a smile on her face.
Oh, my God. This is so heartfelt and real and raw. I love every word of it. Thank you so much for sharing your amazing talent with us @sunriserose1023.
Star Barnes' Writing Blog 