The third and final installment in the “Puppy Love” series
Written in Bucky’s POV
A big pile of fluffy fluff, then more fluff.
■■WARNINGS: TEENIE BIT OF FAT SHAMING, BUT IT’S ALL GOOD. BUCKY TO THE RESCUE■■
Word count : 1262
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A SPECIAL THANK YOU TO @stevieang for getting me out of my writer’s block. You’re awesome lovey!!! 😄😄😄😄
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“Steve, just watch the dog, that’s all I ask.” I grabbed the car keys and headed for the door when Chase ran up, tail wagging a mile a minute, ears perked. I bent down and chuckled. “Sorry buddy. You and Jake aren’t seeing each other today. This is *my* play date.”
Steve poked his head around the corner and looked at me with furrowed brows. “Tell me that you just didn’t…”
@loriwrites LOOK. AT. YOU!!!! YOu were stuck, then a silly little comment from me and you did ALL THIS?!?! It is SO sweet, so touching….and I LOVE that you do it from Bucky’s POV – that’s just the best thing. I also love that you are definitive – that’s it, 3rd and final installment. It kinda makes it that much sweeter. 🙂 Great great job, sweetie! – Steph
I absolutely agree with everything @stevieang said. It’s all so wonderful!
A/N: Sorry to combine so many challenges, but they worked so well for what I’m aiming for. I hope that comes through. All errors are my own, gifs/photos found on Google unless noted above, and as always thank you so much for reading!
Summary: When enemy combatants attack the Tower you are caught in their crosshairs much to the pain of the man who loves you, Steve Rogers.
“How’d they even get in, Tony?” Steve questions as Natasha’s hands fly over the keyboard bringing up all the cameras in the Tower.
“FRIDAY?” Tony calls to the AI.
“It appears they used Y/N Y/L/N’s security pass and the weaponry was broken down in the sound equipment for the party. Once inside they reassembled,” FRIDAY answered.
“Why would they have Y/N’s card?” Tony ponders to the team as another set of alarm bells go off.
“That’s the alarm for the lab, Mr. Stark. Someone punched in the wrong code twice,” Friday reports once more.
“Nat, can you bring up the security video?” Steve asks but Nat is already pulling up the video.
Steve, Tony, Natasha, and the rest of the team who had arrived watch in horror as four men crowd you pressing a gun to your head. Bucky put his hand on Steve’s shoulder knowing exactly how his friend felt about you. While the rest of the team had come to see you as somewhat of a little sister, Steve’s feelings had distinctly fallen into the love column. But now all he could think about was the fight you both had gotten into days ago. He hadn’t spoken to you since and now here you were being held against your will.
Summary: Y/N never felt comfortable in her skin. Years of bullying tore a crater into her self-esteem. After landing her dream job at Stark Industries, a certain super soldier is enamored. Will she allow herself to be happy?
Characters: Bucky Barnes x Plus size! Reader
Word Count:
Warnings: Body shaming, self-esteem issues (prompt in part two; happy ending)
Mirroring the movie, “Mean Girls” do exist. Only difference is, those girls are now adults; merciless in their hatred towards women who don’t quite “measure” up to the expectations of what a perfect figure is supposed to be.
Men and children aren’t exempt from nastiness either. There are cases of kids driven to suicide due to incessant bullying. Their stories are extremely heartbreaking.
Throughout high school, the moniker “MIss Piggy” attached itself to Y/N; high school, “Fat Alberta;” college and beyond, every demeaning name under the sun. Of course, the stigma scarred her fragile psyche. Growing up with self esteem issues, Y/N never felt worthy or pretty enough for a relationship.
Negative entities occupying space inside Y/N’s head didn’t deter her from achieving her goal; graduating Magna Cum Laude from University of Washington, specializing in Analytical Science. Following Stark Industries “Analytical Science” symposium, Tony took special interest in Y/N’s zeal.
A week later, Y/N received a certified letter. “Stark Industries? Oh my!
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: 1,798 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.
My work is not to be posted on any other sites (AO3, Wattpad, etc.) without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.
Fresh out of the shower and wearing some clothes that had belonged to Marge’s daughter, you were seated at the small kitchen table, a hot cup of tea in your hands, and your knee bouncing.
“He’ll know I’m here,” you mumbled under your breath, fear making your scalp itch. “This was a bad idea.”
Marge shook her head for the hundredth time. “He won’t,” she insisted sternly. “Only a handful of people know about this place.”
‘This place’ was a one bedroom, one bath, nine hundred square foot, one level cabin. It wasn’t far from town, but it was hidden, out of the way, trees and bushes obscuring the view from the road. The doors had several locks on them, strong and sturdy ones, ones that made you wonder if Marge had walked a mile in your shoes.
“He always finds out,” you continued to argue, though weakly. You let out a sigh that turned into a yawn. God, you were tired. Your eyelids were heavy, your muscles were weary, the bruise on your face was pounding. It felt like you needed no less than four days of sleep.
Frank sat down, his hands clasped together, inches from your own. “He’s at home, Y/N. There’s no need to worry about him right now.”
“How do you know?” you choked, tears spilling down your face once again. You desperately wanted to believe Frank, but past experiences trumped everything else.
His fingers flexed, the urge to console you becoming almost too much for him. “A buddy of mine just drove by. He said the lights are on, the truck is parked out front, and he could see James through the windows.”
“Probably drinking.” You ran a hand over your face and groaned. “Fuck, I should go back.”
“Not a chance in hell,” Frank growled, a scowl on his brow.
“Over my dead body,” Marge said at the same time, her hand on your shoulder. “You’ve already taken the first step by asking for help.”
Your chin was quivering as you melted into the woman standing next to you, your cheek on her stomach. “I didn’t know it was going to be so hard.”
Frank grabbed the box of kleenex from the counter and handed it to you. “We’ll be here with you, Y/N, every step of the way.”
For the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why anyone, let alone someone amazing like Frank, would want to help you. You were an overweight waitress at a diner, you weren’t anything special. Hell, you weren’t even anything mediocre. You were nothing, less than nothing –
“No one deserves to be treated that way,” Frank answered your unspoken question, anger flashing in his eyes. “No one.”
Sitting up, you wiped your nose with a kleenex. Frank was right; nobody deserved to be treated the way James had been treating you. Deep down, you knew that you deserved better. But, years of abuse and negativity sure had a way of deforming your thought process.
“If I had just lost the weight,” you murmured.
Frank’s hand was on yours, squeezing, his thumb sweeping over your pulse point, and God, did it feel good. “You are not to blame for any of this. James is the one that has a problem, not you. You… Y/N, you’re beautiful and smart and sweet, and… and if James can’t see that, can’t treat you like a queen, then that’s his problem.”
“What?” you croaked, disbelief weighing on your voice. Had he just called you beautiful? No, you had to be hearing things.
Marge rested her hand atop yours and Franks’. “Frank ain’t wrong, sweetie. The way James has abused you, has twisted your thoughts into something negative… it ain’t right.”
You were still staring at Frank, heart hammering in your chest, your mouth going dry. He thought you were beautiful. What was wrong with him?
“We’ll be with you the entire time, doing everything in our power to get you away from that animal,” Marge continued. “It ain’t gonna be easy, trust me.” Her weary chuckle snagged your attention from the man in front of you.
“Who was it?” you rasped.
She smiled sadly before answering. “My ex-husband, Danny. God, he was a mean drunk, controlling, possessive; just like James. Took me fifteen years to get away from that man, and not a day goes by that I ain’t thankful to the ones that helped me. If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here today.”
You let out a soft sob at that. There was no doubt in your mind that James would be the one responsible for your death if you didn’t get out.
“What’s the next step?”
Frank sighed in relief, his hand flexing on yours. “First, you need to go to the police.”
You swallowed around the knot in your throat. “But, you’ll be there with me, right?”
“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away,” he assured you with a warm smile.
Who knew filing a police report would be so damn exhausting?
The questions were seemingly endless, their almost accusatory tones grated on you, fueled your anxiety, turning on the fountain of self-doubt, making you shrink back. If Frank and Marge hadn’t been there, sitting in the waiting area the entire time, you would have bolted hours ago.
You were currently showing them the scars and bruises James had adorned your soft body with. You winced as fingers prodded gently at the marks, as the camera flashed brightly, as several sets of eyes scanned over you, judging you, ridiculing you. When you were told you could cover up, you about cried out in joy.
Four hours later, you were signing your name at the bottom of the report.
“Is there someplace we can reach you at?” the officer asked.
Fear surged through you. “Why? I uh, I mean, he won’t… James won’t get that information, will he?”
“No, of course not,” she assured you. “But, we need to know how to get a hold of you for follow up questions.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” you murmured, your hand shaking as you wrote down the phone number and address for where you were staying. “What about a restraining order?”
The officer was nodding. “We need to talk with the other party first.”
You were shaking your head. “You don’t understand. If he finds me, he’s going to kill me. I need that restraining order.”
“Okay, it’s okay,” she said, her hand on yours. “Give me a few minutes, let me see what I can do.” She grabbed the file and stood tall, giving you a warm smile before heading across the precinct to make a call.
You liked her, she was the first officer you had talked to during your time there that didn’t make you feel like she didn’t believe you. She had been kind and understanding, using a soft tone to keep your already-frayed nerves somewhat calm.
Glancing around the room, your eyes fell on Frank. Well, the silhouette of him. He and Marge were still in the waiting room, probably flipping through magazines or looking at their phones, their patience wearing thin, wishing they were doing something productive, dealing with someone that wasn’t you.
Tears clouded your vision once more and it made you groan in frustration. You hated crying, especially where people could see you, more so when those people were strangers. You knew they thought you were weak, that you deserved the bruises you were sporting, that you pushed James to hit you.
“Sorry about that,” the officer said upon her return, making you jump.
“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath, hand over your heart.
You could tell she felt bad for chuckling. “I didn’t mean to scare you. So, I was able to get you a temporary restraining order until we can talk with James.”
“Oh, thank God,” you sighed wearily.
She handed over the order. “He can’t call you or be within five hundred feet. If he breaks this, you call it in straight away.”
Nodding, your eyes roamed over the piece of paper. “I can do that.”
“Good. Now, do you have anyone staying with you?” She asked, her eyes flicking up to the doors that led to the waiting room. “Someone safe.”
Only a handful of people know.
“Yes, I do.”
She gave you a warm smile. “That’s good. Is there anything else you need at the moment?”
A stiff drink.
“Not that I can think of,” you answered, returning her smile, standing a moment later, restraining order clutched in one hand.
“I’ll be in touch.”
You gave her a small wave before turning away and heading out the doors.
Frank wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit there. He wanted to swoop in and make sure the cops were doing everything within their power to keep Y/N safe. It was irrational, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop his heart from hammering, he couldn’t keep his mind from racing, he couldn’t stop remembering the way it had felt to hold her close.
Damn it, he was too emotionally invested.
Marge’s hand was on his knee. “It’ll all work out, Frank.”
“I just want her to be safe,” he huffed, dragging a hand over his face.
She gave a soft chuckle. “That ain’t all.”
“No,” he agreed, shaking his head. “It ain’t. But, I ain’t gonna do anything about it. I can’t.”
“That’s true, for now.”
“Marge,” Frank sighed, turning to look at the older woman.
“Oh, come on. You like her,” Marge pushed. “Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”
She was right, there was absolutely nothing wrong with the way he felt about Y/N.The only thing that would be considered wrong was if he acted upon those feelings. She was going through a hard enough time without Frank admitting that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making her happy.
The doors opened then, and Y/N emerged, clutching a sheet of paper and looking like she wanted to do nothing more than cry, or go to sleep. Possibly both. Frank was up and giving her a hug, hating the way her shoulders were shaking as she cried.
“What’d they say?” he asked, his voice low and soft.
It took her several long moments before she could answer. “They have to talk with him, get his side of the story.”
“His side of the story,” Frank growled. “Fuckin’ ridiculous.”
Standing back, she held up the paper for him and Marge to see. “They also granted me a temporary restraining order until everything is sorted through.”
“That’s more like it,” Marge said. “Now, let’s get you home, get some food in you.”
Y/N gave a wear chuckly as they made their way out of the police station. “I could eat.”
This was written for #Star’s full figured fantasy challenge, thanks to @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan for letting me get involved.
Pairing: Thor x plus size reader Prompt: “Forget the rules. If you like it, wear it.” Summary: Tony and Thor make a bet, but who will win? Reader and Thor are in a relationship. Reader worked with Erik in New Mexico instead of Jane Foster and met him when he first came to Earth (apologies to Fosterson fans, I love Jane, she just didn’t fit with this prompt!). Takes place prior to Age of Ultron. Words: 3.5k Warnings: Mild swearing, mentions sex but no smut mostly fluff
A/N: My prompt was “Forget the rules. If you like it, wear it.” Its my first try at Marvel fanfic, and the first thing I’ve written in years, so all feedback and comments gratefully received. Also going to be posted on AO3 under ‘Leo_nine’.
Willpower
Nobody had ever suggested that hitting a guy with your car was a great way to get a boyfriend but somehow it had worked out fine for you. From that first meeting in New Mexico, Thor had captivated you. He was brave and sweet and, oh yeah, the most gorgeous hunk of a man you’d ever seen. You’d never imagined that the attraction would be mutual but to your amazement he was smitten with you too.
Even though you were comfortable with your size, you were insecure about it at times and it had been a surprise that your plump pear-shaped figure was his type. Curvaceous was the nicest description of you that people gave although you’d certainly been called much less flattering things over the years.
Summary: A/U. After heartbreak, loss, and healing, special education teachers and long-time best friends James Barnes and Lia Accorsi found their way to each other. Where will life take them now that they have already weathered terrible storms?
Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, OFC Lia Accorsi
Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluffity fluff, sweetness and SMUT. This is definitely NSFW 18+ I’m serious!
Word Count: 3200
A/N: Thank you to everyone who read, commented, reblogged, and generally showed mad love for “Love Among the Little Chairs.” I felt wonderful writing it, and knew it had to continue, so for now, here’s the next part of Lia and James’s story. I hope you laugh, smile, blush, and love it like I do. Thank you! – Steph
Summary: AU – Lizzie is a confident fat chick who doesn’t flaunt or apologize for it. One night after she sang a particularly challenging number during her birthday party, she was approached by the most gorgeous man she’d ever met, whose attention she took for kindness, not interest. Thanks to the people who love her, he finds her on Tinder and though she is skeptical of his motives, she decides to swipe right.
Warnings: Fluff fluff fluffiness, some swearing, frank talk of body image, but nothing too bad! If you don’t like karaoke, this isn’t for you! LOL
I couldn’t resist bringing AU Steve into Lizzie’s world. He’s just so adorable. MANY MANY thanks to @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan for encouraging and beta-ing for me. She’s such a gift in my life.
This if for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan‘s Body Positive challenge. I used the quote “Don’t let your mind bully your body.” with Loki.
You were lost in the bass. Your headphones pumping adrenaline through your veins, keeping the time of your jabs. The punching bag swayed back and forth with each hit, your muscles singing. Training was your time. Your chance to relax. To be yourself. To forget everything going on around you.
Star Barnes' Writing Blog 