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mutants-and-soldiers · 4 years ago

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Lovely Dissonance {Part 8}

summary || After a long hiatus, you’ve decided to throw yourself back into your one passion: Singing. It’s been a rocky road since the accident but you’re ready to get back onto your feet and brush off those singing chops that have been put to the side. You just don’t expect to find something more than just a fulfilling career.

pairing || singer!Bucky x singer!Reader x pianist!Steve

word count || 4200

warnings || Musician AU, future polyamory, Nightmares, Trauma, Healing, Body insecurities, depression, PTSD, scars, harassments, body shaming, hurt/comfort, descriptions of violence

Chapter Warnings || Kissing, heavy talks about past trauma, comfort/hurt, cuddling, morning wood, Bucky being a perv (Yes this is a warning)

notes || This is my entry for @gotnofucks Body Positivity Challenge

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9 Part 10

“Well come here then,” Bucky smiled, face full of light and happiness in that moment. Steve looked just as excited as he held out his hand to you.

You took the few steps needed to be wrapped up in the two men. They smelt...like home, you realized. Safe and warm in their grasp, you looked up to find both of them looking at you expectantly.

“I...don’t know who to kiss first,” you admit sheepishly.

It cut through the strange tension that had built and the three of you fell apart into laughter. Every bit of fear and anxiety washed out of your body as the laughter subsided. “Kiss Steve first,” Bucky said once it was quiet. “I want to see how good you two look.”

Your face warmed far too much but you looked at Steve who had a foggy look in his eyes. He flicked his gaze from your lips to your eyes before leaning forward. Much like your fantasy, his large, warm hand slipped around the side of your neck. It felt so much better than you had expected as he drew you forward until your lips were just a breath away.

“May I?” he asked, hesitating just briefly for consent.

“Yes,” you breathed, closing the distance.

Sparks flew across your skin, raising goosebumps all across your body. It felt so fucking good to kiss him. Like you were reborn from the ashes of your grief and depression by just the smallest bit of intimacy. His lips were so hot and trembled just a bit until he pressed harder, tilting his head to tease your lips with his tongue.

You completely surrendered to the feel, melting into him like you had in your dream. All other thoughts were gone but the sensation of his beard scratching your chin, his meticulous tongue exploring your mouth and the way his hand twitched where it held you. You got completely lost in the kiss until you both broke away for much needed air.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky whispered, breaking the moment. “That was so beautiful. My turn.”

Still a little dazed from the kiss with Steve, you were very abruptly pulled into the brunette’s body and ravished. Where Steve was slow and meticulous in his ministrations, Bucky was the complete opposite. He took your breath away by delving into your mouth with reckless abandon.

As quickly as it had started, Bucky was pulling away with a shit eating grin on his face. “Damn, that was well worth the wait,” he smirked, admiring the dazed look on your face. “Speechless?”

“Don’t encourage him,” Steve sighed dramatically. “He’s already so full of himself as it is.”

You weren’t sure what to say, still situated so that the three of you made a pretty triangle. “How long?” you found the coherency to ask.

“How long...what?” Bucky laughed, smiling gently as he looked at you.

“How long have you guys...wanted to do that?”

Steve and Bucky looked at each other, having some kind of silent conversation before focusing back on you. “A while,” Steve admits softly. “We didn’t want to rush your healing or make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Joining a couple can be...intimidating so we didn’t want to push you away or put you out,” Bucky adds. “This is your home. We wanted you to feel safe in this space. You’re not...uncomfortable, are you?”

Uncomfortable wasn’t quite what you would call what you were feeling. “No, I...I mean, I’ve thought about it...I just didn’t…”

Steve leaned forward to kiss your forehead. “It’s a lot, we get it. You don’t have to dive right in. We can take you on a date first if you want.”

“I mean...we’ve kind of already been on dates...right?” you ask, feeling a little sheepish but giddy at the same time.

They both laughed. “Yeah, I guess we have, huh?” Bucky chuckled.

“Well, we don’t have time for that right now,” Steve spoke up, looking at the clock on the wall. “We need to get to rehearsal.”

“I guess we'll talk later?” you offered, not wanting to pull away from their warmth. They both smiled sweetly, easing any anxiety you had. “I...there are some things I want to tell you before...this gets started.”

Bucky leaned forward to press his forehead to yours. “Of course,” he breathed, running a warm hand down your arm. “We won’t rush you. Take all the time you need.”

Steve’s fingers tangled with yours, allowing his heat to comfort you. “There’s no pressure. If you decide this isn’t what you want...you’re allowed to be completely honest with us...okay?” the blond reassures, kissing the knuckles of your hand lightly.

You swallow thickly. “Is...is it okay to be afraid?” you whisper, squeezing Steve’s hand and wrapping your arm around Bucky’s waist.

“Of course,” they said in unison, breaking the tension to allow room for laughter.

“I’ll go grab our music,” Bucky said, pulling away to head towards their room.

You weren’t sure how you ended up between Steve’s knees but...you didn’t want to pull away at all. He was more on eye level with you now that he was sitting. “We...didn’t push you...did we?” he asked, brushing some of your hair behind your ear gently.

The laugh slipped from you without warning. “No, Steve, I...I like kissing you guys. I just...am…”

He gently kisses your forehead, the innocent gesture becoming a fast favorite. “You don’t have to explain yourself, sweetheart,” he soothes, running the back of his knuckles against your cheek. “Words will come to you only when you’re ready to say them. We’re perfectly comfortable with simple things right now. Having you with us is a gift...but kissing you? That’s a privilege. It’s trust. It’s-”

His words cut off when you throw your hands around his neck, kissing him suddenly in a burst of raw, untapped emotion. He wraps his arms around you, pressing his big palms against your back to keep you close. You feel the heat and arousal flood every nerve but ignore it to focus on the way his mouth moved against yours.

“Oh fuck.”

Bucky’s hissed words made the two of you pull away just enough to stop kissing. Steve’s arms still held you close and your hands rested against the back of his neck. The brunette’s eyes were full of so many emotions, they were hard to pick apart. His gaze was molten heat and desire.

“Skipping rehearsal...is that an option?” he finally said, voice thick with dark desire.

There is a moment of thought between the three of you. You contemplated the possibilities but the moment your clothing was stripped and you were bare…

You take a healthy step away from Steve, looking away in embarrassment. “I-”

“No, stop,” Bucky commands, making your teeth snap shut. “You don’t have to explain anything. Look at me.”

Hesitantly, you look up to meet those intense, steely eyes. There is only compassion and admiration in those depths and it makes your shoulders relax. He doesn’t touch you and Steve stays perfectly still on the stool but has the same open expression on his face.

“No is a complete sentence. Tell me no.”

You feel your insides tremble for a few seconds before it stops. “No.”

So much power in such a simple, two letter word. It made every part of your body relax when you saw the acceptance and pride in the two mens’ faces. “Good, that’s what I want to hear when you’re unsure. No explanation, no excuses...just...no. You’re not going to hurt either of your feelings, doll. Understand?”

Nodding, you reach out to take the offered music folder. “Good,” Steve said, standing from his stool. “Let’s get to practice.”

Rehearsal was a little more challenging today but not because you were worried about singing properly. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of the blond when his large hands glided across the piano keys; you were transfixed by the look of calm on his face when he played. It didn’t help that he would look up from his playing during easy sections and catch you staring. The smile he gave was one of the sweetest things you’d ever seen. His lips distracted you to the point of missing some of your entrances.

Then there was Bucky, you couldn’t see him because it was behind you but...his voice stuck out more than usual during rehearsal. It was almost like he was singing right next to you. You could hear the way your unique timbres swirled together even through all of the other voices. It was a connection that warmed your heart; it was more than enough to make you like the men even more than you already did.

Melissa, to her credit, left you alone and focused on her own parts. You could see out of the corner of your eye the new focus she had and it made you happy. Being in an ensemble was about being supportive and wanting what was best for the group. If Melissa grew and became a better vocalist...it would make the ensemble better.

She was young, you understood that, and she needed to know the difference between healthy competition and jealousy. You had been exactly like her at that age. You were lucky enough to have a mentor who gave you hard wisdom and pushed you.

Rehearsal ended so quickly that you blinked when people started to leave the stage. Steve was there to offer you a helping hand. You gladly took it even though you were more than capable of doing it yourself. Bucky was right there by your side and the three of you gathered your things and headed home.

Anticipation and excitement was humming in every cell of your body on the walk. You knew there were some things you needed to tell them but...surprisingly, you weren’t afraid. Instead, you knew that whatever you told the men...they would accept you with the grace and compassion they’d already shown you thus far.

Lunch was easy to make and before you knew it...you were sitting at the kitchen island with the two men. “I’m ready,” you say about halfway through your ‘fancy’ sandwich, as Bucky deemed it. Both sets of eyes looked to you but it wasn’t heavy, just...attentive. “To tell you how I got to this point...if you’ll listen.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a glance full of silent conversation before looking at you and smiling sweetly. They didn’t need to say anything. You could see that their attention was completely on you.

“I was married to a beautiful man, John. He was my better half, truthfully,” you whisper, looking down at your hands. You had long since stopped wearing your wedding band because all it did was hurt. Even after all of this time, though, you felt the snug fit of it and needed to turn it idly. “He was my biggest fan even before I made my debut. He was always supportive and really pushed me to make the right decisions for my career and myself.”

His goofy smile flashed across your memory, making you smile. “We had a son,” you say, throat closing with the sudden emotion. Letting John go hadn’t been easy but letting go of… “His name was Henry and he was-”

Your voice broke as the tears welled up so quickly that you couldn’t stop them. Steve was quick to stand up and grab a box of tissues while Bucky shoved his plate away to grab your hand gently. “You don’t have to tell us if you’re not ready,” he soothed.

“No,” you whisper, taking the offered tissue to wipe at your eyes. “I want-no-I need to tell you about them. I can’t keep hiding them away in my closet. They made me who I am today. I have...I have to do right by their memory.”

Steve sat back down, touching your arm softly. “Go at your own pace,” he encourages, squeezing your arm.

It takes a moment for your throat to open back up but they didn’t seem to care when your voice trembled. “He was perfect. Silly, sweet, loving and so smart...he was the pride of my life. Giving birth to him was so traumatic and I have-” your voice squeaked but neither man said anything. “I have a terrible scar from the C-section but...he was healthy and happy so it was all worth it.”

Your tears were hot and heavy on your cheeks as they slipped off your chin too quickly for you to catch. “Henry was just getting out of his toddler phase when the accident happened. It was raining and the truck hydroplaned right into the passenger side,” you choke on the words, closing your eyes to battle through the flashing lights, sound of rending metal and that terrible, terrible silence. “The doctors told me they died instantly.”

“Oh god,” Steve whispered, standing up to wrap his arms around your trembling form. He cooed your name gently while running his hand down your head. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Bucky was quiet, merely squeezing your hand to remind you that he was there. “Is that where you got your scars?” he asked, voice barely audible. You nod, unable to stop the tears now that they have started. It was like the flood gates had been opened and you were powerless to stop the water from bursting through. “How long did it take you to recover?”

“I just got through all of my physical therapy before I got the job,” you admit, resting against the solidity of Steve’s chest. His heartbeat was steady and solid. You intertwined your fingers with Bucky’s, smiling sadly. “I stopped performing during that time. I couldn’t dance on stage with the metal bars in my leg. Theatre made me sad so I completely quit, moved into that shitty apartment and did my best to just survive long enough to be given a clean bill of health. I got a pretty hefty settlement but it didn’t last long...not in New York. It wasn’t worth their lives.”

Bucky stood up and came to your other side, wrapping you completely in the smell and heat of the two men. You sobbed, allowing the tears to cleanse the sadness and guilt from your soul. He merely held you, placing small kisses and sweet touches to help ease the hurt.

“Sorry for being so weak,” you chuckled after the tears had stopped.

Steve crouched down next to you, a serious look on his handsome face. “Stop that,” he said, wiping at the moisture on your cheeks. “You are not weak. The fact that you told us means you are strong. You’ve been through hell, sweetheart. You have never been weak, ever.”

His words warmed your soul. “Thank you, both of you,” you say, slightly interrupted when Bucky kissed you. You knew you were touch and intimacy starved but as the man stole your breath away...you realized just how much you needed this. He spoke volumes just with the heated, firm gesture and you knew this was his way of reassuring you.

Steve used pretty words and innocent gestures. Bucky, apparently, used touch and intimacy and actions to show his intention and compassion. You definitely weren’t complaining as you closed your eyes and let Bucky kiss the sense right out of you.

“I’m proud of you,” Bucky whispered once he pulled away. “So proud of you.”

The words melted you even as Steve’s fingers grasped your chin to pull your attention to him. “We both are,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss you as well. They were so different and yet so similar. You loved both of their kissing styles individually and knew this would become a favored pastime very quickly.

The three of you settled in for the night to watch mindless TV and eat junk food. It was so nice that you couldn’t help but bask in the warmth as the three of you sat all leaned against one another on the love seat under a blanket. It was warm, very warm, but you couldn’t help but burrow down between the men.

“Uh oh,” Bucky said a little past ten. You looked up to find Steve passed out with his head leaned back on the couch, mouth open and breathing even. You tried not to laugh. “I swear, he can fall asleep in any fucking position. Come on, Stevie, let’s go to bed.”

You stood to clean up the mess while Bucky coaxed the sleepy pianist off the couch. Steve grumbled a little but stopped when he walked past you. “Come with us,” he basically whined.

“Steve,” Bucky warned but looked at you. “We don’t have to do anything. We can just sleep. But...we’d love it if you joined us...only if you’re comfortable, obviously.”

Thinking about it, you realized that you did, in fact, want to join them. “I don’t want to impose,” you say out of habit, earning a skeptical look from Bucky. “O-Okay.”

“There you go,” Bucky smiled, helping Steve to the room. You followed behind them sheepishly. You stood in the doorway while Bucky put Steve under the blankets. The man instantly fell back asleep. “Want the middle? Fair warning, Steve’s a cuddler.”

You laugh lightly, stepping into the room to the edge of the bed. “You okay with that?” you question softly.

“I’d rather you be on this side,” he explained, pointing at his flesh and blood arm. “Not that I’m uncomfortable with you being there...I just…”

You pressed a finger to the man’s lips to silence him. “No explanation, remember? I understand,” you smile, walking over to the bed so you could get under the downy comforter next to Steve. Bucky quickly took his shirt off out of habit and your mouth dried at the look of his body. He was gorgeous and you couldn’t find the words.

He pushed a few spots on his prosthetic so it would detach and he set it gently on the bedside table. His body was warm as it slipped in beside you. You tucked yourself into the curve of his body, head rested on the spot where his arm met his shoulder. He got situated and smiled when Steve turned over to wrap himself around the curve of your back.

“Told you,” he whispered, body settling into the bed. “Comfortable?”

You hummed, already partially lulled to sleep by the sound of his steady heartbeat and the heat of Steve pressed against your back. “Yeah, this is nice,” you mumble before drifting off to sleep.

Steve never slept late. It was just how his internal circadian rhythm worked. He always stirred about ten minutes before his alarm went off for his morning run. Today was no different as he slowly opened his eyes, blinking the sleep away.

He inhaled the sweet smell of feminine shampoo. It took a second for him to realize he was staring at your sleeping face. His heart skipped a beat at your peaceful look, hair messy from sleep and hand resting against his chest. Steve felt warm and kind of fuzzy as he smiled.

Bucky was curled up on the opposite side of the bed. He always ended up there in the morning. Steve focused back on your face, reaching out to brush some hair away. You grumbled softly, cuddling closer until your head was resting on Steve’s bicep. He wrapped his arm around your back, holding you close to his side.

His mind wandered when the blanket slipped down, revealing where your shirt had pulled up to expose some of the skin of your belly. He could see stretch marks peeking out from under the fabric. There was an itch to run his fingers up under the shirt to feel all of those dips and curves but he knew it wasn’t the right time. You were still very self conscious and he wouldn’t do that unless he had express permission beforehand.

Still, his mind thought about what it would be like to kiss all of your scars and marks. How would you squirm when he worshiped the flaws that made you so special? All of it leading to him waking you up with his mouth and tongue and fingers buried in your pussy.

He clamped down on the thought when blood started to rush south. Shit. That wasn’t good. He couldn’t let you wake up to find him awake and hard. It’s one thing to blame morning wood but this definitely was his fault for fantasizing.

Steve jumped a little when you cuddled closer, wrapping an arm over his chest and nuzzling your face into his neck. It sent a shiver of delight down his spine. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders to hold you close. Keeping himself from getting an erection was looking like a lost cause.

“Steve?” you whispered, causing goosebumps to pop up across his right side from your breath. “You okay?”

The blond looked down to find your beautiful face looking at him. You had a groggy expression on your face and your eyes were still a little foggy from sleep. It was incredibly endearing.

No words were said as he leaned down to kiss you. You gave a small gasp and he took the opportunity to delve deeper. Hands grabbed at his shirt but you didn’t push him away. “Steve,” you breathed softly, words swallowed into the kiss.

Steve grabbed the back of your head to keep you close. He only pulled back when he needed air, staring down at your half-lidded eyes and kiss-swollen lips. “God you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, leaning down with the intention of kissing you again.

Your hands covered his mouth immediately. “Steve,” you laugh, sounding a little breathless. “I haven’t brushed my teeth.”

“I don’t care,” he said, voice muffled by your hands. “I want to kiss you.”

He reached up with one large hand and pulled both of your hands away with ease. You made like you might protest again but eventually gave into the temptation, melting against Steve. He got a little carried away and somehow ended up framing your body with his but your hands wrapped around his torso, clinging to the back of his shirt, to hold him in place.

“Mm, I see the two of you got started without me.”

Steve pulled away when you jumped from hearing Bucky’s voice all of a sudden, chuckling lightly. The man had already grabbed his prosthetic and was in the process of attaching it, eyes staring hungrily at the two of you. Steve felt his stomach twist when the brunette turned onto his side.

“Don’t let me stop you,” he teased, licking his lips. “I like to watch.”

“Buck,” Steve sighed dramatically. “That’s creepy.”

Bucky scoffed, lightly. “It’s not creepy! It’s flattering!”

The laugh that comes from you makes Steve smile brightly among other things. Your laugh stops when the blond’s erection presses into her pelvis. “Sorry,” he mumbles, moving to get off of you.

You don’t release your hold on his shirt at all. There is a sheepish look on your face and that lower lip, swollen from kissing, was suddenly trapped between your teeth. Steve knew it was a lost cause to stop his erection from twitching again. “You...don’t have to be sorry,” you whisper, not at all unsure.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or make you feel like you have to do something...you don’t want to,” Steve explained, feeling like he might shake out of his skin with anxiety. He wanted you, that much was obvious, but only if you wanted him.

You smile sweetly, “Thank you, Steve, but neither of you make me feel uncomfortable. I just...I’m not ready to take...um…”

Bucky scoots a little closer. “You don’t have to take your clothes off, doll. We just like being with you. Besides, we can pleasure you with your clothes on.”

“Bucky!” Steve gasped, ending up laughing at the man’s candor. It was one of those qualities that made the blond fall in love with him. He held nothing back and was blunt to a fault. Steve, on the other hand, was so dense that he had needed Bucky to grab him and kiss him to understand the man felt the same. “You’re such a perv.”

Those steely eyes stole Steve’s breath away when they pinned him to the spot. “He says that I’m the perv,” Bucky starts, leaning over to brush his lips across your ear. “But he’s the insatiable one. He’d probably like being blindfolded just to eat you out.”

He wanted to deny the fact but his dick wasn’t on the same page as it twitched against your pelvis again. “Damn it, Buck,” Steve groaned, hiding his face in the crook of your neck when his cheeks got warm.

“See? What’d I tell you?” Bucky laughs, ruffling Steve’s hair playfully.

Your body moved with your laughter, a hand running up the back of Steve’s neck to settle in his hair. The blond hummed happily when you started to scratch his scalp. “I mean, I’d hate to recieve if I can’t give back,” you whisper, kissing Steve’s temple gently.

Steve sat up, staring down at you intensely. “Does that mean...you’re interested?”

Taglist: @ladydmalfoy @spookyparadisesheep @chcblndnrd75 @buckypcrker @whatthefrickenfrack

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x y/n #slow burn #bucky barnes x female reader #steve rogersxreaderxbucky barnes #tw: body insecurity #dibspositivitychallenge #pianist!steve rogers #Vocalist!Bucky Barnes #eventual smut #stucky x reader

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shieldedreams · 4 years ago

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kiss it better, baby (f.a.)

summary ⇾ in frank’s eyes, you’re the most beautiful person he’s known. he learns that you don’t see the same and he strives to prove it to you. details ⇾ 4,157 words / frank adler x reader / 🌸☔️🔥comforting fluff, heavy feelings, suggestive themes, implied smut notes ⇾ this is for @gotnofucks body positivity challenge! i went with the insecurities of body size, thick thighs (and added) thick arms. side ⇾ ngl this made me cry because it’s so personal to me and to write it out was somewhat painful and comforting? i truly adore this challenge and wouldn’t have thought to write this out like this. 💞and to everyone out there, you’re beautiful babes. 🌼

[minors dni! mentions of certain explicit details of sex + suggestive themes / implied smut / foul language / a lot of mentions of insecurities with thighs and arms, overall body image]

tonight was supposed to go well. supposed to; double-take on that because it started out well... but of course, it’s not going to end as smoothly as you had hoped. the entire week hadn’t been the kindest and it’s taken a toll on your mental health with self-doubt and self-deprecation dragging you beneath the surface. work had been so stressful, a couple of hiccups that messed up the intended deadline, and let’s not even begin with the string of bad luck flung your way for nearly five days in a row.

honestly, to say the week had been rough would be an understatement. how about a hurricane of insecurities, one overthinking bulldozer ramming at full force, and a generous serving of anxiety. yet, you powered through the night like a champ, at least you'd like to think you are.

there was a small event going on at ferg’s, something along the lines of a celebration of something you weren’t quite sure of. the promise of a good night out and free drinks? considered your saturday night plans with frank sold. with a few drinks in your system and the brewing of your emotions from within is tipping you closer to the verge of breaking down but you hold on. licking your lips, you clutch onto the pint of beer as your eyes search for frank in the sea of people in hopes to go home.

your eyes soften at the sight of frank a distance away, a smile crawling onto your face as you appreciated his appearance. frank was no stranger to being attractive; occasionally stealing the eyes (and possible hearts) of many wherever the pair of you went. sure, you were confident in yourself and where you stand with frank but on a day where you felt like utter shit about yourself more so your appearance... it felt bitter.

from his strong build clad in a tacky hawaiian shirt that he swears he’ll never get rid of, to faded cargo pants down to his ankles and a pair of worn-out sneakers. it should be illegal looking that good even when he’s not trying. you gape when your eyes trail to who he’s talking to: bonnie. though they had a fling in the past, they remained civil since they called it off–being friends even–considering mary goes to her chaperoned girl guide’s sessions every week.

normally you’d pay no mind to it but now, your mind clicked together how good she looks in a sleeveless floral dress; accentuating her figure pleasantly. thin arms, slim waist, long legs; looking so much smaller next to frank. it makes your throat swell as you gaze back to yourself, taking in your plaid blouse overlaid with frank’s jacket because he noticed you were chilly. it irrationally made you hate him for being so kind and attentive to your needs because now he’s showing off those work of biceps that–”what’s a pretty face looking all upset for?” a deep voice snaps you out of your musing, blinking up to the man you find yourself growing weak for.

he smirks when you pout at him with a small tug to join back down at your occupied table. he slides onto the chair next to you, his hands already reaching to touch you; pulling you by the waist with one arm. he leans in to kiss you, slowly coaxing the thoughts clouding your mind away but it’s not for long when bonnie reappears.

she chuckles when you give frank a hit to his shoulder, trying to nudge him away. he only groans and draws back to look up to see who’s ruining the moment with a playful glare.

“really? it’s only been a minute,” frank squints his eyes at bonnie.

“i just wanted to come over and say hi. haven’t seen y/n in a while,” bonnie grins, reaching out to you and you force yourself out of frank’s protest to offer her a friendly hug. as your arms easily wrapped around her figure, you can’t help but feel another pang to your gut. you bite down on your frown, trying your best to smile at her because she’s the absolute sweetest. that means you can’t hate her even if you wanted to. maybe irrationally. put her in the same boat as frank with his stupid, kind, and thoughtful self. even then... it would still be unfair. all of these ill emotions came from your roots of insecurity. no one could’ve known.

“you did it, you broke my girl,” frank snorts when you don’t respond to any of their words that you’re certain you spaced out. you step back into frank’s chest as he circles you from behind, stabling you in his arms as you blink at the both of them. your disheveled state only elicits more waves of laughters as you awkwardly try to join in. your hands rub over frank’s arms around your waist for comfort.

“s-sorry, was a little caught up for a second there. what were you saying?”

bonnie shakes her head with a small smile, “no worries. i was just asking if you two wanted to join me and a few friends for another round at the bar down a couple of streets. rumor has it they offer jug cocktails for half the price after midnight,”

your mouth opens in surprise, from a wide smile that forms into one of uncertainty when you look to frank. he reads your expression and partially drinks in the tiredness that laces your under eyes, along with your body slightly tensing up at the invite. it’s moments like these that you truly appreciated frank’s observation skills and having no issues with his bluntness.

“nah, we’ll pass. not a fan of cocktails and i think it’s good to call it a night,” frank takes the blame, giving your hip a squeeze, “c’mon, let’s go,” he kisses the side of your head as he draws himself back and luring you with him. you barely register what’s going on until frank releases his hold around your waist only to grip onto your hand, half-tugging you to follow him. bonnie giggles, as your free hand reaches out to squeeze her hand briefly before you slip past.

“thanks, bonnie! see you around!” you manage to call out, to which she bids her goodbye with a wave, chuckling at the way frank’s relentless with dragging you away. once out in the murmured quietness, you feel like you can breathe again. he guides you to his truck and doesn’t say much, only smiling at you quietly as the pair of you walk.

to frank, he’s appreciating how you look under the glow of the moonlight. like a spotlight cast on you. he feels his heart soaring as he takes a mental image of you in his jacket. the plaid blouse and jeans combination never fails to make you look gorgeous and frank adores every part of you. in the midst of his silent appreciation, you were thinking of a hundred and one ways to not break down before you got home.

the drive home felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life. though frank didn’t mind the silence, he’d be a liar to say things didn’t feel like they were on track. he was adding up the conclusion to being a terrible week at work; neither of you had much time to spend with one another when he’s been preoccupied with a few jobs including an urgent boat repair of a busted engine. that cues easily days of not being intimate because both of you had been tired so frank intends to make up for lost time.

however, the second he puts the truck to park on the driveway, it was his turn to be stunned at the way you lunge out of the vehicle and beeline straight to the front door. that gets his adrenaline running, giddily chasing after you. he tries to calm his breathing as he closes and locks the front door behind him. light footsteps padding down the halls and he smirks at his shed jacket by the bathroom door, a hint of where you might’ve gone into.

he cheekily decides to open the door... revealing you on the floor as you hugged yourself next to the sink, crying your heart out. his heart drops to his gut, feeling it stay there as he’s unable to process what’s happening. it makes his head spin, but the louder your cries echo into his ears, it triggers his body to do something, frank adler.

he rushes in and pauses just as he gets to his knees, an arm’s length away from you. both of his hands reach out carefully, half-trembling as he touches your kneecaps that flinch at his touch. he doesn’t say anything, spreading his arms wide as he sits on the floor and opens his body for you to crawl into. past your blurry vision and ragged breathing, you find the strength to enter his arms. sitting between his legs as you face him, your legs lapped over his to lock behind his back like a koala, arms haphazardly finding their way around his shoulders, muffling your cries into his chest as you fall apart.

frank catches you; eyes clenching shut as his jaw tightens at each sob that rakes past your throat. he keeps an arm around your waist to have you close, his other hand constantly stroking the back of your head as he peppers kisses to the side of your head to remind you: i’m here. i’m not going anywhere. i got you. the nights of not noticing come to bite him and even though he knows you understand–you always do–it made his heart ache. how easily you let it slip by as being tired when there’s a storm brewing from within.

he gently starts to rock you back and forth, the simple gesture acting like a double-edged sword as it draws out more cries. to the point where it got hard to breathe; your eyes swelling up so much it hurts to open them. the feeling of your body contracting around him, squeezing him tight. then one edge of the sword dissolves. frank noticing the change of breathing pattern as your crying quiets down to shaky inhales and exhales.

when you give frank’s back a small pat, he leans back just a little (not wanting to go too far) just to look down on you. the solemn look on his face pinches your heart, already feeling guilty.

“i’m–i’m sorry, this is all just–”frank lets out a tut that halts your incoming apology, lightly flinching at his tone. “don’t apologize. never do that,” he shakes his head, his hand coming to cradle your cheek. he doesn’t need to ask verbally, staring into your eyes that silently pleads to know what’s wrong. he lets you take all the time you need, patiently stroking the under of your eye to pad the stray tears that trickle down your tear-stained cheeks.

“it’s... been a long week,” you mumble past a sniff, using the back of your hand to wipe your nose, “and i just–it’s a lot,” you heave a deep sigh. “it’s one of those weeks where i didn’t think could get worse and it just fucking does. first, the project got delayed and then it’s all the little things that don’t add up to a good day and it spans out to the entire week,” the air fills in your lungs, wishing you’d feel lighter but if anything, you only feel heavier at what’s next to explain.

“and then our date night–which i was anticipating for the whole week–and instead of enjoying it i was... this is gonna sound really stupid–”frank clears his throat in effort to stop you from going down that route again that you manage a small smile. out of embarrassment and gratitude as your fingers fiddle behind his neck. “i... my mind spiraled down to noticing how small bonnie looked next to you tonight,”

the deep sigh that frank lets out sends a message to your mind that he already knows what you mean.

"some days i know i look good and i feel good. now... i just hate everything about me. i feel... big. too big. my arms, my thighs, all of me,” you sadly hang your head low as you retract your hands from him to loosely hug yourself. the only reason why frank doesn’t interrupt is so you to lose your train of thought; knowing this is just as important for you to let everything out than to be distracted.

“and it’s an on-going thing... every day,” like a puzzle picture that somehow aligns in frank’s mind, he’s able to click together how all of your wardrobe has never consisted of a sleeveless one. or how shorts never went above the knees too much unless you were in the comfort of home. he feels his chest tightening at your words but at the same time elevating, that you trusted him to confide in him. "some days better than others. some days i just want to be over with so i can forget the feeling. it constantly haunts me in the back of my mind, being self-conscious with the way i look and always trying to cover up the parts i feel shy with,”

frank feels his heart tightening at how much you believed in your words.

“and god, it doesn’t help with the media shoving what the perfect image of a woman should look like and i... sometimes i get lost in it,”

the silence that envelopes you in is nerve-wracking, half-afraid of what frank’s response would be. throughout the months of being together, he hasn’t heard about this once. the light that shone down on you was this flare of confidence frank fell in love with but it reveals to him that he’s in love with this side of you just as much.

he tries to get a glimpse of your eyes, dipping his head down and it makes you tip your chin up to look at him properly. he raises a brow, almost asking if you’re done. you don’t answer with words and instead, press your lips together to show you don’t have anything left to say.

the first thing frank does is kiss you.

it catches you by surprise, eliciting a soft gasp that he gladly swallows. it was impossible to keep a straight mind when frank’s kissing you like this–as if you’ll disappear; as if he wanted to imprint through your lips of how he felt, how you make him feel without words and through actions. you feel all of frank with just one kiss. it makes you reach out to hold onto him, clutching around his shoulders like a lifeline you can’t let go of and he tugs you up until you’re straddling him with his strong arms keeping you against him.

then he draws back to press his forehead to yours, a hand reaching up to cup your cheek fondly as he waits for you to open your eyes. when you do, his eyes are already on you, a piercing gaze that sends goosebumps to form on your skin yet the butterflies intertwined in your stomach.

“i want you to tell me whenever you feel this way, okay?” frank’s words start out soft, slowly echoing into your ears as your eardrums perked at the sound of his voice. “i know it’s a lot to ask but... i want to know so i can remind you through and through how beautiful you are to me. to know that you were feeling all of this, going through a hell of a week and i didn’t even know?” he scoffs, more at himself than at you, “if that doesn’t scream me being a horrible boyfriend, i don’t know–”you’re quick to put a hand over his mouth, making him flinch as you do so–“exactly,” you frown at him when he remains silent, waiting for you to finish your sentence.

“you couldn’t have known, frank...”

he gently peels your hand from his mouth, pressing a small kiss to your palm. “that’s the thing,” he lets out a shaky breath, “i couldn’t have known, but i should’ve.”

“i should’ve noticed how you kept repeating that you were tired when i had a feeling it was something more. and it’s not an excuse to say work’s in the way but i should’ve been more attentive and i’m sorry,” the genuine tone in his voice starts to make your heart shake in your ribcage, a couple of tears gathering in your eyes as they stray down your cheek. “f-frank...” you try shifting away from his gaze but he makes it a point for you to look at him.

“you’re so, so beautiful to me. every part of you, every single part of you is gorgeous to me,” he whispers, past your ragged breathing that you try to silence, past the blurry vision you try to keep on him as he stares at you. he’s making you cry again but not for the reasons you had earlier. these tears were out of relief; that someone as understanding and loving as frank could easily melt your concerns with his sincerity. frank wasn’t a man of many words, but when needed, all of his words struck a chord.

“i still don’t know how i managed to be with someone as beautiful and kind-hearted as you but every morning when i wake up next to you, i’m reminded of it time and time again,” he thumps his forehead onto yours, lightly nuzzling his nose with yours. the gesture makes your heart swell at the proximity. “and if i believed in god, i’d know that god spent a shit ton of time in creating you because just look at you. what is an angel like you doing with a simple boat repairman like me?”

that phrase alone plants a tinge of anger in your chest. there are days where frank feels at his lowest; bringing up that he’s not good enough for you. that there are other people out there who could provide to you more than he ever could. you know–frank knows–what he’s doing by saying that. it makes your eyes widen at him, not out of surprise but with the fiery spark he sees building in your irises.

“frank adler, don’t you dare–”he cuts you off with a thumb on your lips, “you feel that?” he’s referring to the anger brewing in your heart, the number of rebuttals you have lined up to combat his initial statement. the bucket of reassurances and threats you were ready to fire at him.

“that’s how i felt when you kept talking about how you didn’t feel beautiful,”

you know frank’s got you there before you can try to retort. he’s smart, and he uses his wit to make you understand how he feels even when he struggles sometimes but he always tries to get his point across. at the realization, hot tears start to sting your eyes–so much that you can’t keep them open. you bury your face in his neck and let the tears fall. frank catches each one, allowing you to curl up against him. he soothes gentle rubs to your lower back, the other stroking your head as you ride out your emotions.

when you’ve calmed down after what felt like a millennium, frank sees the weight being lifted from your shoulders as you look up to him. it’s not gone entirely, but he can see the difference. it made him feel good. but, he decides it’s time to shift that focus onto you.

“now,” frank smiles–the kind of smile that makes your stomach flip–guiding your head up to his eyes, “i’m gonna show you how beautiful you are to me,”

his eyes flicker down to the way your lips gape, so inviting and tempting. he swallows thickly and gazes back up to your eyes, the answer evident there. “if you’ll let me?”

you nod twice.

frank carries you to the bedroom and he makes it a point to lock the door. as he settles you down on the bed, he silences you with a kiss that makes you feel your heart is leaping out of your chest, right into his hands. then it leaves you hot and heavy; the arousal already pooling between your legs as his eyes are blown with desire and lust with the hint of determination to make you feel what he feels for you.

tonight, was going to be all about making you feel good and frank has no intentions of letting you out of this bed until you do.

((the night ends on a different note than anticipated after frank shows you how beautiful he thinks you are.

he first shows appreciation to your thighs, making you sit on his face with your thighs casing his cheeks. all while he’s showering you with words of praise while eating you out so fervently you can barely breathe right. whenever you felt like you were suffocating him, you’d try to squirm away but he’d only pull you down firmly. he makes you come by encouraging you to ride his face; after much persuasion and confidence, you do and the orgasmic bliss that hits makes you curl forward, catching yourself with a hand on the bed headboard while frank laps up your release; claiming it to be as sweet as honey.

then your arms, where he makes you wrap them around his shoulders as he fills you up hard and slow. wanting to cherish each thrust and watching as your arms try to keep a hold on him as he pounds into you. whenever your arms quivered and tried to pull back to avoid seeing them jiggle, he’d stop and dip lower for you to wrap around him tight before he continues to slide back into you. the tighter you held onto him, the faster he’d go. the longer you held on, the more he was building up to your orgasm. it didn’t take long until your grip is iron-like around him as he plunges deep into you; both of you reaching your highs and riding it out with breathy moans.

then your body, where he positions you in front of the mirror as he slips himself in from behind. he notices this one is the hardest for you and how you almost caved in to cry into the mattress than give in to his request. with gentle words of affirmation and a handful of kisses later, the two of you were able to try again as he pushes into you. the stretch and angle is making your head spin but even more as frank pulls you up to his chest. your back glued onto him and forcing your eyes to stare at your reflection as he stills inside of you.

he kisses your neck to distract you but it’s hard when you’re staring at your naked form; bare as frank remains connected to you. he gives you all the time you need to adjust; not just physically but emotionally. it was a difficult pill to swallow and it’s not going to change overnight, but frank witnesses something so beautiful when you try to accept the image you saw. it almost made him come inside of you then and there but he’s all about giving you the rewards and praises you deserve.

he starts to thrust into you as your hips rolled back to meet his pace. he keeps an arm across your chest to have you close, the other dipping down to find your swollen clit. your hands clasp onto the arm he has on you; relishing every single thing he says to you. of how beautiful you are, how good you felt, how good you make him feel and how everything about you added up to the definition of beauty.

you come for the third time that night and frank catches you again. just like he does every single time.

when he pulls out and tries to get you two cleaned up, a hand to his wrist lets him know you needed him. he wraps you in his embrace and lays with you on the bed as you catch your breath. burying your face in his chest with arms loosely wrapping around him, frank feels you relaxing in his arms.

as he leans back a little to peek down at you, he spots a small smile on your face. a genuine one. out of love, out of relief.

“thank you, frank,”

frank doesn’t need to reply, only accepting your gratitude with a soft kiss to your lips. his response transcends words as his lips move in sync with yours, tongue gently caressing yours. when you pull back to gaze into his eyes, his answer is there, staring back at you with a warm smile.

you’re always welcome, y/n.))

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punemy-spotted · 4 years ago

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The Cut

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Muslim-Coded Reader

Warnings: Explicit Content; Smut; Oral Sex (F-receiving); Discussion of FGM/Clitorectomy; Allusions to Child Abuse; Allusions to Scars; Angst; Mention Cutting;

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: You cannot carry all your pain on your own.

Author’s Notes: When I was five years old, I was subjected to a clitorectomy, a procedure that was a violation of my human rights and bodily autonomy. It has fundamentally changed the way I view my sexuality and challenged my ability to see myself as a person worthy of sexual pleasure and love. This procedure was done very deliberately to make me a person who did not have sexual autonomy and did not derive pleasure from sex. And for a long time, it worked.

When Dibs at @gotnofucks #dibspositivitychallenge came out, it really only felt right to do a piece that represented this story, because if I don’t give voice to this pain, then there’s a good chance no one else will either. Which is why I’m submitting it as part of the challenge — and it was a challenge! I’ve alluded to FGM in other, now mostly-abandoned pieces, but never anything where it is acknowledged and soothed, and for the most part, endured it alone.

And before this note becomes almost as long as the piece, thank you, @gotnofucks, for the opportunity to be okay with the things we are not.

The first time he touches you, it is a shock.

No, not like that.

Helmut Zemo invades your life like a virus, consumes your loneliness in greedy kisses, winds his arms around you like he might just swallow your pleasure whole, might make you a part of him to carry away forever. Bare yourself to him and he might sink his fangs into you, drain you of all your fears and leave only obsession in its wake, might turn you into the same cold lover as him, might just make you fall in love.

The first time he touches you, it is a shock.

You are soft and delicate and precious under his lingering gaze, under appraising fingers, under appreciative hums. He bids you Lay still, sweetling, bids you Let me look at you, bids you You are a masterpiece made flesh, and you believe him, and you forget.

You forget, as he claims your soft mouth with his own, willing and wanting. You forget, as his tongue explores the pleasurable symphony of your surrender. You forget, you forget everything. There is only the hunger of his lust, the wanting he leaves on your skin, marking you with nips of teeth and suckling kisses, makes a game of your yelps and whimpers, chuckles against your tender form, So needy for me, sweetling.

And you are.

Helmut, you plead, running fingers through his hair as he simpers with lips wrapped around the pebbled skin of your breast, watching him wide-eyed and enamored, a halo of dark locks around your face and you are made of adoration and to be adored.

Darling, he purrs, fingers sliding along your sides, Do you trust me?

And oh.

Oh, you do.

Let him kiss along the planes of your body, let him love the soft lines of you in the early morning light and bid you spread your legs for him Yes just like that, darling, good girl…

Helmut Zemo hums against your skin, takes in the sight of you full of want and wanting, your hands tangled in silk sheets and lips curved around the praise of your love and he is lost to you just the same.

The first time he touches you, it is a shock.

The softness of your sex is an intoxicant and the kisses he places to the plush apex of you is a whisper of a promise, seeking the sweetness of you on his senses and if he notices the scars where the missing parts of you are then he does not speak and if he notices the way your breath hitches and you tense then he does not speak. He only presses the flat of his tongue against that which you have, taking a decadent lap of your sweetness while you whine and if there are tears in your eyes, sweetling, let him pause to wipe them away, let him watch you in adoring silence to see if you will utter to him the words which will put a stop to this worship and bring about another kind. You are exalted and let him raise you to the heavens just like this, Just like this, sweetling.

He does not devour you, he is no beast, but he does drink of your pleasure, letting his tongue delve into your softness. Gentle hands holding you in place, encouraging you to surrender, writhe and move and let him nuzzle deeper, let him moan, soft and hungry against the feast he adores so much and when you surrender, sweetness, he is overcome.

The first time he touches you, he asks nothing.

The first time he touches you, he sees everything.

Does it hurt?

The next time he touches you, he is curled around you in bed, fingers languid and lazy against the plushness of your sex, finding the space where nerves are made scars and watching you turn, watching your eyes grow desperate and realize he saw and he touched and he loved you anyway and you say nothing at first, not until he asks again, Does it hurt you, sweetling?

Sometimes.

But today?

No.

Will you tell me?

Someday.

And he asks nothing further, only whether you are warm and comfortable here in this home he had made out of your bed and when you nod he is calmed and when you nod he is taking another hungry kiss from your plush mouth and when you nod he is patient.

He is always patient, and careful, and skilled, and waiting.

One day it does hurt, and for once, you do not hurt alone.

One day it does hurt and you tell him.

He holds you while you cry, just as he is, kissing your fingers and promising divinity in your adoration and you tell him of the girl you once were and you speak of the knives and the crimes and he listens.

He listens and in his heart, he simmers with the pain and rage you have absorbed for all your years, the iceberg shelves of his heart cracking under the weight of your hurt and your confession and he asks no questions but sweetling, you tell him every word, pressed against his chest and tears in your eyes, Let yourself cry, darling, and Helmut Zemo might be a murderer and an extremist and a villain but in this moment he is yours and there are no greater villains than the ones who drove you to this, who charged a child with crimes she did not know the names of, demanding reparation from her in her blood and flesh.

So you tell him. You tell him of the dusty hospital and the sneering faces. You tell him how your mother could not bring herself to come with you and so you stood, too young to remember your native tongue with no interpreter to make your grandmothers understand that you were afraid.

You tell him of a bird with her wings clipped before she even knew she could have flown, you tell him how you thought you would never, you tell him how it used to hurt and sweetness… you tell him how you thought he would leave you if he saw.

It’s not their fault, you tell him too, and he does not believe you but it is not his place to tell you what to feel and so instead he runs fingers through your hair and holds you to his chest and kisses your temple.

It’s not their fault, you insist, They trusted the wrong people, they were misled, they—

They are not yours to defend, sweetling, he tells you in his softest voice, breaking you from your guilt, They are not yours to justify.

And so you do not give it.

You give nothing, only your tears to a man who demands nothing, only bids you seek refuge in what safety he can give but sweetness he knows the meaning of revenge and the power of loathing and you have carried your burden for so long and justice has failed you so often — Let me carry this pain with you, my darling — and oh sweetness, you will.

You will, and he will carry you through the days you try to give a name to your anguish.

You will, and he will find the means to demand the justice you were denied because you deserve your justice, because you cannot be allowed to hurt while they go home and pretend they are correct to do this to you and your sisters in faith.

You will.

The first time he touches you, it is a shock.

No, not like that.

Not when he shows you how wrong they were.

#helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x you #dibspositivitychallenge #tw abuse #tw female genital mutilation #tw personal piece

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queenmalhinewahine · 4 years ago

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This is for @gotnofucks Body Positivity Challenge. This little fic I wrote hits close to home because after having a baby nothing feels the same.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Rating: umm, pg? Maybe? Idk 🤷🏼‍♀️

Summary: You and Steve have put off sex after having a baby. But you put it off even longer because your body is different, everything has shifted. Steve gladly puts those fears to rest.

It had been months since you had sex, and Steve didn’t want to press the issue because motherhood was hard. Sleepless nights, 3am feedings, not to mention all the changes your body went through. It wasn’t that you didn’t want Steve, but after pushing a baby out and your body being bigger than you’d like, you wouldn’t let him touch you. He remained the same gorgeous man, all rippling pectorals and bronze skin.

He understood though, he never pushed you. When he went from being a scrawny kid, getting his ass beat in back alleys of Brooklyn, to the living embodiment of Captain America. He understood all to well how quickly a body change can effect a person, and he never pushed you.

You had just put evie down for the night, your hair and clothes a complete disaster. But he looked over at you from his side of the bed, like you were the most attractive thing he had ever seen. You crawled to his side, kissing him softly. His large warm hands rubbing your back softly, squeezing your butt a couple times. He nudged your chin with his other hand, you looked up at him, but he had other plans. His lips melted to your lips, hot and needy. You swallowed the moan, but he caught it smirking against your lips.

His hands began to wander, and your body stilled. You pushed back softly, smiling apologetically and moved further away. But he wouldn’t let you, his arms tightened to hold you close.

“Doll, talk to me. Please.” His blue eyes searching your face, begging for any kind of reply. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes because you couldn’t bare to look at his understanding face any longer. Not if you were about to tell him what was really bothering you.

“Just, my body is not the same. I have stretch marks, and my tummy is bigger. Not to mention how my vagina looks after pushing a kid out. Nothing is the same, while you look the same handsome man as ever. I look different and I’m afraid if you see me like I am now, you won’t want me.” Your voice quivering. The tears threatening to spill, but you just buried your face in his side.

Steve’s arms tighten, feeling you sob softly. He knew words weren’t always the answer and right now, he needed to show you, nothing had changed. Not for him. He pushed away slowly, your brows furrowed watching him.

He straddled your hips, looking down at you with a dark hunger that could not be mistaken.

His hands going to your sides, pushing your shirt up softly. You covered your face, hiding from not only his gaze but from your own embarrassment.

Steve touched your soft skin, rubbing the stretch marks, leaning down he placed a warm kiss on them. He pushed your shirt up higher, exposing your bare breasts to his hunger gaze. He rubbed them softly, knowing they were full of milk for Evie. He kissed across the swell and the valley between them, savoring how your body tuned into his loving embrace. He pulled your hands away from your face, kissing you breathless.

“Love, you have nothing to be afraid of because I will always love this body. You had a baby, my daughter, and your body is softer. But that’s because you are the caregiver to our little one, and I couldn’t be more in love with this body.” His words gentle but full of so much love. He leaned forward, kissing you slowly, with all the built up passion from the last few months. He pulled back, resting his forehead against yours.

“I understand how you feel doll, but I love this body. Curves, stretch marks and all. And if you’ll allow me, I’ll worship it just like the goddess you are.” His tone husky and rough. You couldn’t help but smile at him, this man.

“I love you Steve.” The words quiet but he grinned at you.

“I love you too doll. Always.” His words a promise, one that he would never break.

#dibspositivitychallenge #steve rogers #post baby body #fem reader #the avengers

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tuiccim · 4 years ago

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I, the, just, YES!!!! This was marvelous. So sweet, so precious, so vindictive! I love it!

Sweeter than Sugar

Summary: She broke his heart but you're not going to let her win. Bucky deserves the best and you're going to give it to him.

Pairing: Chubby Baker!Bucky x Reader, mentions of former relationship with OFC.

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Smut, Oral (fem receiving), body shaming by OFC, language, mentions of insecurities. painful break up (not reader) bit angst, fluff. As always 18+ only.

A/N: Do not copy, rewrite, repost or translate my works. Comments and reblogs are welcomed. Beta'd by the lovely @deann and @makbarnes but all mistakes are my own.

A/N II: @star-spangled-bingo 2021 Squared filled: Curtain fic and @gotnofucks Body positivity challenge

"Wait till you try this. I think this is my best batch yet." Bucky promises as he pulls the tray out of the oven with his vibranium hand.

You cringe for a second before remembering that he can handle the heat.

You stretch, looking around the large bright kitchen. A fresh breeze floats through the open window carrying in notes of rain and freshly cut grass and the faint sounds of the neighbor's kids playing with their dogs.

Leaning back in your seat, you turn your gaze back to him, a faint smile on your lips as he blows on the pastries, cute little puffs he named after you.

His blue eyes shine under the soft yellow lights, an apron under the swell of his pudgy belly. He looks incredible, wearing only a pair of black boxers that stretch across the curves of his ass. His hair is pulled back into a small bun at the nape of his neck, and there's always something smeared across his cheek.

Yesterday, it had been red velvet frosting, and today, cherry.

Bucky scoops a puff on to a small white plate, grabbing a fork from the drawer. He beams, his entire face radiant as he walks towards you.

That's the look that makes your stomach twist and leaves you feeling dizzy.

Dating Bucky has been a dream. He's loving, kind and he looks at you with such love that you lose your breath just thinking about him.

According to him, you've improved his life in several ways; he swears his food tastes better now, that you somehow make his cakes perfect, his frostings sweeter, and well, he can’t look at a peach without grinning like a drunk-in-love idiot.

You’ve spent many late mornings and lazy afternoons watching him patter around the kitchen, listening to him explain his baking processes while you lounge in a chair.

You don’t understand half of what he’s saying, but he speaks with such passion, his hands animatedly flying in the air as he talks about chocolates, melting points, and the differences in pans.

Bucky has discovered early on that he loves to watch you eat. To be more specific, if it's his food. Only his food, if he’s being honest. He gets so nervous every time that his stomach plummets because he wants to make things for you.

Give you so many things.

Starting with your own custom-made pastry.

“Here, Peach, it just melts on your tongue,” his deep voice lowering to a near moan.

He slips the pastry into your open mouth, his thumb grazing over your bottom lip as you swallow. Oh, your eyes almost roll back in your head when the flavors explode on your taste buds. You’ve never tasted anything that wonderful.

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you gasp, leaning forward for more. “I-that’s so good! Can I have another?”

He grins, lopsided and wide, his heart thundering so hard it feels like it might fly out of his chest. Bucky will give you pastries as much as you want if you keep looking at him like that. He puts his all into his baking and the fact that you enjoy it makes him feel as if he can walk on air.

Bucky kisses your forehead as you chew, pushing away from the table, he slides on his sock-covered feet to the fridge. “What do you want to drink?”

“What do we have?” You giggle as he dances in front of the fridge, calling out options for you.

It’s hard to believe that the carefree man in front of you is the same one that was ashamed to remove his shirt a few weeks ago.

Bucky holds your hands at your sides, fingers laced between yours as he feasts between your thighs. He promised to make you come for him at least three times and you swear it’s been double that by now. His warm, wet tongue flicking over your swollen, sensitive clit over and over, sucking and pulling it into his mouth like he can’t get enough of you.

You moan incoherently, voice hoarse from begging and mewling, your legs limp around his broad shoulders. “Buc-Bucky, oh right there, Bucky,” you plead, feeling pressure build in your belly as his tongue traces patterns over you.

Bucky grinned, his face covered in your slick. He can’t remember the last time he had a better meal in his life. “That’s my girl, so sweet, need one more taste, just a little more,” he whispers before his lips wrap around your clit again. Your mouth falls open in a wordless scream, back arching off the bed when he gently shakes his head, sucking so hard that you see stars.

Bucky groans actually groans deep and vulgar when you cum,and you feel it as your body explodes, waves of pleasure surging through you until you’re gushing on his beard. He eases up, nuzzling into your puffy folds as you come down from your high. Bucky looks up, his dark slate-blue eyes taking in your heaving chest, a bead of sweat rolling down your belly.

“One more?” he says hopefully, wanting to dive back into your pussy.

Your eyes widen as you frantically shake your head. “No. Oh no. Bucky, I can’t, I really can’t, I’m not sure I can handle any more.” You laugh breathlessly, tugging one of your hands free from his tight grip. You rake your fingers through his hair, smiling down at him. "Besides, I’ve been dreaming about you fucking me until I can’t walk.”

A faint blush sweeps across his cheeks as he averts his eyes. “Peach,” he mumbles shyly like he just didn’t spend the past hour worshiping your pussy with his mouth.

Bucky stands up, wiping a hand down his face. He stares at his glistening palm for a second, and then his pink tongue darts out, swiping across the wet surface. You wonder if he’s aware that he's moaning, your pussy throbbing at the guttural sounds.

“You’re filthy,” you jest when he does it again. His face gets even redder as he sucks on his finger.

“You taste better than my pies,” he retorts. “I could eat you all day, every day.”

“Tomorrow, for sure, but right now I want you inside me.”

His smile drops a little when you tell him to get undressed. He’s been dreading this moment, doing everything he can to avoid it. You scoot back on the bed, reaching out for him. Bucky looks down at his body, at his belly, his eyes narrowing, he scratches the back of his neck, telling himself he can do this.

He lifts the edge of his navy blue Henley, freezing when he hears her voice in his head. “Who would want a fatty? No one is going to love you looking like that.” Even now it stings thinking about her. Bucky glances over at you, his heartbreaking at the thought of you rejecting him.

Bucky drops his shirt and reaches for the lamp. “One second.” He says. An unmistakable hint of sadness in his voice has you sitting up. He’s never sounded like that before.

You tilt your head to the side, searching his face. “Bucky, what’s wrong?”

“Just gonna turn the lights off first.” The corner of his lips lifts in a weak, watery smile.

You move to your knees and grab his large hand before he can switch them off. “Why?”

Bucky swallows, “no reason, just like the lights off, 'is all.”

Bucky’s admittedly good at a lot of things, but lying isn’t one of them. He briefly meets your gentle gaze, worry and fear swimming in his beautiful clear blue eyes.

Placing your hands on his chest, you grab his chin. “Bucky, look at me.” He immediately follows your soft command. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

Bucky blinks, shaking his head, almost confused at the thought that you could do anything wrong. “No, no, you’re perfect! It’s me. I don’t wanna disappoint you.” His voice tapers off in a whisper, hearing her sharp laughter the last night they were together. “I know I’m fat, so it would be better if we turned off the lights, that way you don’t have to look at me. “

You stare at your generous, doting boyfriend. “Why wouldn’t I want to look at you?,” you question, befuddled because who on earth would jump at the chance to see a naked Bucky Barnes.

He shrugs a shoulder, his somber eyes drifting down. He grabs his belly and jiggles it. Another shrug followed by a quiet, “I look different with my clothes off.”

You crane your head back, “I love your belly, it’s perfect. Who made you feel like you have to hide it?”

Bucky sighs, rubbing his cheek into your palm. “My ex, Moxie- “

Bucky dated her two years ago. She latched on to him when he and Steve bought the bakery, wanting to be the girlfriend of the rising baking star.

Bucky slowly gained weight as he sampled his baking and designed dessert menus for local restaurants, his joy for baking expanding each day, finally getting to see his dreams become reality.

He hadn’t noticed the changes in his body until one night Moxie cruelly pointed them out.

He was getting ready for bed, eager to be with his girl after a full day of running around. He had been telling her about how another restaurant wanted his input, so excited to share his news that he didn’t notice the way she glared at him.

Tossing his shirt in the hamper, he turned to her and smiled, his hands on his belt. “I’ve been thinking about you all day baby, I can’t- “

Moxie sneered at him, pretending to gag. “Are you serious?”

Bucky’s brows furrowed. “Um, what?”

“Um, what,” she mocked, pulling the blanket up to her chest. There's a pause, tension seeping into the room. “You know what, I have to say it, I can't take this anymore James. Look at you and look at me, why the fuck would I let you touch me anymore?”

Moxie sighed, “can you put on your shirt back on or something because that- “she gestured at him “-is disgusting” She let out an irritated groan when he flinched at her words.

A punch to the gut would have hurt less. Bucky felt his heart split. “Moxie,” he whispered, unable to find words to express the pain currently ripping through him.

“Look, I didn’t sign up for this, you were in shape when we got together, what the hell happened to you? Why do you think I stopped letting you touch me.” She ranted, ignoring his soft pleas for her to stop.

“Either lose the weight or I’ll fuck Steve, at least he still looks good.” She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, yawning, “can you go somewhere else, I don’t want you accidentally rolling over me and squishing me in your sleep.”

His mouth floundered open, but he couldn’t speak. It all hurt too much, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe, the air was too thick and his chest grew tighter with each breath; he needed to get away, terrified of what might happen if he cried in front of her.

Bucky shuffled out the room, his heart shattering with every step. He thought she was happy, that he made her happy. Her laughter following him out to the hallway made his head droop even more.

What did he do wrong?

He spent the night on the couch, staring at his old pictures through tear-filled eyes, Bucky always had a little fullness to him, but he was always happy with his body. And he had been having so much fun with the grand opening and all the new opportunities that he never noticed that he stopped needing belts and his shirts were a little snug over his belly.

Bucky called Steve, his best friend fuming when he told him what happened. By the time he was done speaking with him, Bucky felt a little better, his heart may have been in pieces but he knew what he needed to do.

He kicked her out the next morning.

Much to Moxie’s surprise and Bucky's. He may be chubby but he's not going to be her pushover either.

Bucky ignored her apologies and said she had to go. It shocked her when Steve had shown up with a roll of garbage bags, tossing them at her feet with a sharp quip that he doesn’t fuck losers. Both men stood side by side, watching silently as she packed her belongings.

The only things she left behind were his broken heart and a few nagging insecurities that plagued him.

He finishes, his broad shoulders slumped under the weight of his confession, you want nothing more than to stamp out the sadness marring his beautiful eyes.

“I thought she loved me but--“ he sighs, “--I don’t want you to look at me the way she did, I love you too much, Peach, and I know I should probably lose a few -”

You’ve never been angrier in your life. You want to punch little Ms. Moxie in her throat, she better hope she never runs into you because they will have to pry you off of her.

Clearing your head, you clasp his face in your hands and pull him down for a kiss. “Bucky Barnes, you are the sweetest man I know, you’re beautiful and I love everything about you.”

You silence his objections with another kiss. “I mean it Bucky, I love all of you. You don’t need to change anything.”

Bucky swallows the small protest, letting himself relax. You’re not her, you won’t hurt him. Placing a kiss on his soft, round belly, you murmur, “you have no idea how sexy you are, honey.”

You stand on the bed, holding on to his bicep for balance, and tug his shirt off. Looking down at him, you bite your lip. He’s ridiculously handsome and you’re going to prove it to him.

You pepper kisses along the curve of his neck as you sink back down, praising him and telling him how much you love him, describing in vivid detail how each part of his body is perfect.

His confidence and love for you growing with each word. By the time you reach the band of his boxers, he panting, his eyes darkening with an almost feral need to possess you.

Bucky tears off the last barrier keeping you from him and he pounces. You giggle as he pushes you into the soft blankets, the solid, comforting weight of his body encompassing you as he kisses you with such passion you forget to breathe. His warm lips melding into yours, his wet tongue dipping into your mouth, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue as it dips into your mouth.

Bucky reaches down with one hand, grabbing his cock, his other hand cupping the back of your head as he deepens the kiss. He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours so he can gaze into your eyes. Bucky watches your mouth fall open, a gasp pouring out when he guides his thick cock into you.

He rolls his hips, moving deeper into your wet, hot heat. “That’s it Peach, you’re so good,” He brushes his lips across yours, swallowing your oh Bucky as he stretches your tight pussy around him. The slight burn gives aways to pure bliss, you circle your hips after a minute. A quiet I’m ready breathed into his mouth.

Bucky thrusts languidly into your pussy, each deliberate slow drag of his throbbing cock against your soft walls sends bursts of pleasure up your belly and down your spine. His lovemaking tender, yet so possessive that your head is reeling.

He makes sure that you feel all of him, each inch as you clench down, greedy for more of him, even as he goes deeper and deeper, his soft lips caressing your neck. His body keeping you pinned, so you have to take everything he’s giving you.

That pressure builds again, heavy and hot in your belly, digging your heels into the top of his thighs, you meet his strokes, pleading with him to please move a little faster, you need it so bad.

You don’t have to beg; he wants you to cum for him; he wants to feel your sweet pussy flutter around him as you cry out his name.

Bucky sucks a bruise on your throat, his hips pounding into yours. The headboard smacking against the wall with each powerful thrust. The dull thuds drowned out by your loud moans, the pressure getting more intense.

“Bucky,—” you cry out, scratching his lower back when he grinds his hips down, “—oh fuck, do that, do that again,” you frantically chant, slapping your hands on his ass, keening when he does, god yes, he does it just right, hitting a tender spot inside your cunt so hard that you bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming.

“That it Peach, is that what you need.” He slips a hand between your bodies, his wide fingers circling your clit, “Go on, cum for me, give it to me Peach, be my good girl, and cum for me.”

You do, your walls clenching down as the pressure snaps, sensations firing off as your orgasms winds through you. Bucky’s pace falters, becomes erratic when he feels you milking his cock, unable to hold himself back any longer he lets himself go, relishing in your warmth until he spills inside you.

He tries to roll off of you, but you wrap your arms around him, murmuring for him to stay for a minute. You smooth your hands over his slick back, Bucky relaxes on top of you, grinning at your contented sigh. “I love you Peach.”

“Love you too,” you respond, plotting all the ways you’re going to let him know how much he means to you.

After that night, you began to praise Bucky, complimenting his body every chance you got, smacking his ass whenever he walked past you, hugging and kissing him.

The first couple of weeks, he would hide his face behind one of his large hands and his cheeks would resemble one of his bright red apples. “Peach, you don’t have to, I mean I’m-” he would stammer each time, always tucking his hair behind his ears.

It took you three days to figure out that he has a praise kink and you amped it. He barely opened his eyes before you were saying something that made him hide his face behind his pillow, laughing when you wiggled under it to tell him how good he looks when he smiles.

While you loved making him blush, you cherished how confident he became. And you reaped the benefits, one second he was a bashful baker with buttercream frosting on his forehead, the next he was bending you over his counter, railing you so good you couldn’t even scream his name.

After a while, he stopped avoiding the bathroom mirror in the mornings. And you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face, the first time you saw him cooking, shirtless, in the kitchen. He turned when he heard your footsteps, his face turning that familiar shade of red as you openly gawked.

“C’mon Peach, don’t you start-” he playfully grumbles, his lip twitching as he held in his smile, he moved back to the frying back, turning off the stove as he braces himself.

You squeal, flinging yourself at him, peppering his back with kisses. You couldn’t contain the litany of praises on your tongue, so proud of him. Bucky twisted in your grasp, cupping your face in his hands. “God I love you Peach.”

Bucky and Steve are celebrating the grand opening of another bakery. The largest one to date. The new building is full of investors, press, other bakers and chefs, a live band playing in the corner, drinks, and food everywhere, and of course the tower of desserts in the middle of the room. The atmosphere light and airy, glasses clinking, people dancing and every kind of cake, pies, and pastry imaginable on silver platters through the room.

You’ve never had so much fun, although a slightly buzzed Bucky is having an even better time because you’re wearing one of his favorite dresses. You remember when he first saw you in it, you twirled out of the dressing room and he nearly lost it in the middle of the store.

The more he celebrates, the more he’s giving you that look. Steve has to keep interfering, he’s close to going feral in front of all his guests.

Steve sent him to the kitchen after he caught him trying to put his hand between your thighs. You’re laughing as a contrite Bucky gets up from the table to refill the rapidly diminishing display.

“You know I’ve known Buck my whole life and I’ve never seen him this happy.” Steve remarks as he takes a seat across from you. His warm blue eyes glistening. “Thank you for that. He’s been through a lot and you’re the best thing that happened to him.”

Your cheeks get heated at his words. Steve leans forward, holding your hand between his. “I mean it, even though he’s getting on my last nerve talking about you.“

Steve squeezes your hand as he looks up at the ceiling for a second. “God, the man never shuts up, and I’m this close to strangling him if he compares you to another peach, but I love-“

He cuts off, his head jerks back so fast, you think something struck him. “What the fuck is she doing here?”

You turn around in your chair, searching the crowded room. “Who are you talking about?”

“Moxie,” Steve spits out, his hand curling into a fist. “White dress by the bar.”

You find her flirting with one of the investors. Moxie puts her hand on his chest, her shrill laugh cutting through the surrounding conversations. Whatever she tried fails spectacularly. The tall, sturdy blonde grimaces and walks away. You would almost feel bad if you didn’t want to slam her face into the wall.

She spots Steve and waves, making her way through the crowd. “Hey, long time no see.”

Steve raises a brow, his eyes hardening. “Why are you here?”

She laughs, patting his shoulder. “I’m here to apologize to Bucky, I know he misses me, he must be lonely.”

“Really?” you question, keeping your voice light and even.

Moxie dismissively glances at you before returning her attention to Steve. You chuckle under your breath, tapping your heel on the floor.

Don’t ruin your man’s event. Don’t ruin your mans’ event. You repeat the thought as you inhale through your nose.

“So I heard you two are doing really well.” She says, her manicured nails roaming over Steve’s suit. “Really well.”

Steve flicks her fingers off him, “We are. No Bucky’s not lonely. He doesn’t miss you. He’s very happy. With her.”

Moxie’s polite veneer cracks when Steve points at you. Waving your fingers at her, you grin at her. “You go near my Bucky and I’ll rip that cheap necklace off and shove it down your throat.”

She turns to Steve, gesturing to you as if she's the innocent one here; he raises his glass, blowing a harsh breath through his lips. “Don’t look at me, I still don’t fuck losers, but I’ll call if you if that changes.”

You laugh in your empty glass when she sputters. She turns to you, hand on her hip. You slowly raise your eyes, returning her stare. Part of you wanting her to do something, so you can wipe the smirk off her overly painted face.

“Whatever, I don’t need this. Keep the fattie. I can find another rich loser like that.” She snaps her fingers, storming over to the bar. You blink a few times in disbelief. The audacity of this bitch, thinking that she can stay and mingle at his event.

You're debating if you should have her thrown out by one of the staff or if you should drag her out by her hair.

You look her up and down as you ponder your choices, pausing when you see the edge of a tag sticking out the back of her dress. Hmm, interesting. She must plan on returning it after tonight.

A devious smirk slowly takes over your face, you know exactly what you’re going to do to little Ms. Moxie.

You glance at Steve, picking up his wineglass. Steve shakes his head while grabbing your hand. “Hey hey, I know what you’re thinking, and no.”

Before you can say anything, he’s pouring more burgundy wine into the glass until it’s nearly sloshing over the sides. “If you’re going do it, you gotta do it right.”

You exchange knowing glances. No one hurts Bucky. You saunter over to her, keeping your hand steady, not wanting to lose a single drop on the floor.

“Hey Moxie,” you call out. She turns around and you ‘trip’ over your heels, the deep red liquid flying forward in a perfect arch, splashing across her ivory dress, her face and you even got some in her hair.

“Oops, gosh, I am so clumsy,” you state, hiding your grin as she shrieks.

Steve jumps up, offering to help before she can swing at you. “I got you, darling.”

He places a hand on her back, quickly ushering her away “a little club soda will get that right out,” he reassures a pouting, whining Moxie.

He's lying through his teeth, that stain will never come out. Steve gets a peek at the price tag, almost laughing at the $899 imprinted on the card. He maintains his façade, leading her through the room, he stops, giving her a wide smile.

“And you can find some at the drugstore down the street.” He states, opening the front door and pushing her out. Her indignant shouts cut off when he slams the door in her face.

You throw your head back and cackle, startling some guests around the bar, you apologize for your outburst between fits of laughter, wiping the tears pricking at your eyes. You wave down the amused bartender, placing an order for you and Steve.

Steve joins you, raising his fresh glass of wine in a toast. “No one fucks with Bucky.”

"No one."

Neither you nor Steve realizes Bucky saw the whole thing. He ducks back into the kitchen, clutching the tray of Cannelés to his chest. For weeks after the breakup, he had rehearsed what he was going to say that next time he came face to face with Moxie.

But what you and Steve did was even better, the love of his life and his best friend always looking out for him.

Loving him unconditionally.

And just like that, the last traces of his insecurities vanished.

Later that night, you fall asleep with your head on his shoulder. He smiles at your hand on his belly. He places his large hand over yours, wondering how he got so lucky to have you.

And if Steve would kill him if he named another dessert after you.

He’ll risk it.

10K notes · View notes

gotnofucks · 4 years ago

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Body Positivity Challenge Masterlist

To everyone who has come forward with their beautiful stories that sooth, empower and make us love ourselves, thank you. I’ll be compiling a list of all the delightful works submitted for this challenge. Be sure to check them out and show some love to the amazing authors who have gifted them to us.

(To join, click here)

Please read all the warnings on these works before reading them. Some of them may contain dark themes, sensitive and triggering issues and imagery, and language. Your media consumption is your responsibility and I would not stand for any hatred against any of the authors.

The Cut by @punemy-spotted : You cannot carry all your pain on your own

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Muslim-Coded Reader

I cannot put into words how utterly beautiful this fic is. I never expected to get an entry for something as delicate a subject as FGM, and when Tessa submitted this, I was moved to tears. If there ever was a tale of love and acceptance, of forgiving yourself for crimes that were never your own and of a love great enough to overflow the ocean, this is it.

Delight in your Sweetness by @nbraraeaves : Zemo needs you, his pet researcher, to be a distraction for him in the field. To your immense surprise, this includes dressing up for a particularly fancy gala and pretending to be his wife. You enjoy this far more than you’d care to admit - especially in light of what comes after.

Pairing: Baron Zemo x curvy!fem!Reader

Mystery, humor, comfort, love and a plot that will steal your breath, those are just a few things that are amazing about this fic. Zemo and the reader will take you on a ride that will leave you hot and bothered, but also feeling so wholesome about yourself. Loving yourself can be difficult, but together, the burden is easier to share. An absolute masterpiece of a story.

Useless by @ironlady1993 : Forced to a life you never wanted to; you carried the baby for two Super soldiers. And to make things worse, you can’t even look at your once perfectly and beautiful body anymore.

Pairing: Dark!Steve rogers x Reader x Dark!Bucky Barnes / Steve x Bucky

To every person who considers women a piece of meat, to every person who thinks motherhood makes one weak, this fic is a slap on your patriarchal face. This is a story of attaining self worth and love, of growing to love every mark on your body and to embrace the strength that lays in being a woman and mother. You read this fic and you come out empowered.

The Bad Days by @avengerslittleprincess

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

There are those days where we look at ourselves and see someone we don't like. There are days when loving ourselves is a task, when accepting someone else's love is a task too. But then again, there is someone in our life ready to tell us our worth, to reflect back our beauty onto us until we become whole again. A perfect, whole fic for when you think "am I really enough?". Because you are.

Rocky Waters by @animnerd : Rose is out with her boyfriend having a great time untill some negative thoughts keep coming up. How will Bucky help out his girl?

Pairing: Bucky x OFC (Rose)

We have those days that take us over, thoughts that start infringing on our lives. When that happens, we need someone to hold us and anchor us, to assure us that the dark and difficult path we'll walk, it won't be alone. This is a story where a small kiss can act as a soothing balm, and one where Rose is never alone.

All you need by @syntheticavenger : Steve whisks you away for your first weekend together to take your mind off of work but sharing a bed together brings back insecurities you’d tried to hide.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

If some day you look into a mirror and cringe, if some day you have trouble uttering the word 'beautiful' to yourself, come here and read this fic. The marks on our body are a part of us and our beauty. They signify growth and strength, they signify beauty. When you forget that, Steve is there to remind you, and so is Synth who came us with this beautiful and wholesome story.

Do you know how beautiful you are? by @animnerd : Rose and Hook were friends for a long time. Rose had feelings for hook. One day while out on Hook’s ship enjoying the day. Rose went below deck to change clothes only to find that she has a new pimple. She flips out and tries to hid it from Hook. While hook find out?

Pairing: Hook x OFC (Rose)

I don't think any of us went through puberty without obsessing over acne and the scars left behind. Some of us struggle right into our adulthood. But reading this fic made me so happy about the bumps and are scars on my face. Beauty is a social construct, and you don't need to be "flawless" to be beautiful ❤️

Perfect Imperfections by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork : After a lifetime of issues with your skin that result in some scaring, you have a condition called hidradenitis suppurativa. (a chronic skin condition that has painful flare ups and leaves scars.) Letting Sam see these imperfections scare you, but he is a patient man.

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader

The next time you look into a mirror and don't like what you see, it's not you, it's the mirror. The mirror is biased, based on the society's judgement and flawed standards and it flows in us too and makes us doubt our beauty. Reading this beautiful fic helps with that. When your body is marked and you have difficulty accepting that, turn away from the silver mirror and instead look at Sam Wilson who sees only the best and beautiful in you. This will make your heart soar.

What she Deserves by @ladyfallonavenger

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (super size not plus size)

When you have one of those moments where you wanna lean against the wall and cry because loving yourself is difficult, read this fic. It's a story of not just having someone who would hold you as you crumble and show you your worth, but also of self acceptance and growth. And if like me you wanna cheer as you read this, don't hesitate. Because you are a badass and a beautiful woman!

💃💃 Body Positivity 💃💃

Are you Ok? by @animnerd : Rose and Steve worked out in the tower. Rose is in pain. Is there something she is not telling Steve?

Pairing: Steve, Wanda, Reader (platonic)

Physical disorders and conditions chip away at our self confidence. On days that we push through the pain to prove we aren't weak, we need friends to hear our unsaid cries. That's what this is about. Friendship that in enduring and without judgement. About strength that is inside and shines brightest when we're broken.

💃💃 Body Positivity 💃💃

The Mark of an Angel by @bluemusickid

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Everyday is a battle in this world of plasticity. How does one love themselves when the mirror reflects back what people say is ugly or undesirable? On the days that your body doesn't feel like a beautiful home, read this. It takes time to get over those dark thoughts, but with someone to support you beside you, I am sure you'll power through. I promise you, you'll be smiling towards the end of this.

💃💃 Body Positivity 💃💃

To Be So Loved Through It All by @geniedetails : You matched with Andy on a dating app and now it’s time to finally meet him. From 1st to 2nd to 3rd base through texting, things are heating up between you two, but will things be as easy as they were behind the screen?

Pairing: Plus Size! Black! Female! Reader x Silverfox! Daddy! Andy Barber

Have you ever bitten your lip in worry when meeting somebody because you don't think you're enough? Because you've been told your beauty is not actually beauty? If so, read this enchanting tale of two people coming together in the best of ways where body and soul are worshipped and appreciated just like they deserve to be.

💃💃 Body Positivity 💃💃

My Angels by @glazedhoneywriting : Being an Omega is tough and Y/N thought she’d never get picked and escape the auction palace but little did she know an Alpha or a pack of them would. Certainly the angels that would take her away from a place of horrors.

Pairing: Alpha!Danneel Harris x Alpha!Etla Harris x Alpha!Rachel Harris x Omega!Reader

For the women who keep their heads down, who try hard to fit into beauty standards, this is for you. Everytime you've felt unworthy and mistreated, read this fic. Not only does it break through gender roles and stereotypes, but also gives you and your body the appreciation it deserves.

💃💃 Body Positivity 💃💃

My Love Never Changes by @queenmalhinewahine : You and Steve have put off sex after having a baby. But you put it off even longer because your body is different, everything has shifted. Steve gladly puts those fears to rest.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Changes in our bodies are often difficult to deal with. We start perceiving ourselves as unworthy because of how we look. We think of underserving of love and attention. But then again, there are those in our life whose love for us never changes, no matter how much we do.

💃💃Body Positivity💃💃

Once in a while by @captainapple : You have to deal with your insecurities and Ransom’s family

Pairing : Ransom Drysdale X Chubby! Reader

It's difficult to please everyone. In fact, it's impossible. When the world wants to point out every little flaw in you, even loving yourself can be a task. So this story is a good way of reminding yourself that sometimes, it's okay to be the asshole. It's okay to be selfish and love yourself with abandon. Hold the hand of one who sees beauty in you and be happy.

💃💃Body Positivity💃💃

Lovely Dissonance by @mutants-and-soldiers : After a long hiatus, you’ve decided to throw yourself back into your one passion: Singing. It’s been a rocky road since the accident but you’re ready to get back onto your feet and brush off those singing chops that have been put to the side. You just don’t expect to find something more than just a fulfilling career.

Pairing: singer!Bucky x singer!Reader x pianist!Steve

Being judged by your appearance rather than your talent is something that sadly a lot of us have experienced. I am absolutely in awe of series that so wonderfully captures the double standards of the society so well and how at times we just need someone to see the real us and tell us our worth that goes beyond how we look.

💃💃Body Positivity💃💃

Kiss it better, baby by @shieldedreams : in frank’s eyes, you’re the most beautiful person he’s known. he learns that you don’t see the same and he strives to prove it to you.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Reader

Sometimes it is difficult to be vulnerable in front of those we love. The fear of our demons is sometimes explicit and sometimes so internalised that we try to forget it. But this fic is proof that if you have someone in your life who truly loves you, who cares for you in a way that is pure and reaches beyond the surface, being vulnerable becomes a blessing. To have someone cherish and love us at our weakest is a beautiful feeling.

💃💃 Body Positivity💃💃

Recalcitrance by @sobluesobeautiful : Jerks, assholes, shamers.This queen doesn’t need a Prince on a white horse to come save the day, but you’ve got no objection if he fucks all the negativity away.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x fem!busty!Short!Reader

We don't realise how much we limit ourselves subconsciously due to the "male gaze". We've been told to look and act a certain way to avoid that kinda attention, but it's so important to realise that we shouldn't have to change because some men are creeps. This is a story of a girl struggling with a body she loves, a tale of a girl trying to be more than a piece of meat. It's her story of meeting a man who loves all of her, and of her loving herself in return.

💃💃 Body Positivity 💃💃

My Angel by @saiyanprincessswanie : Steve is proud to call you his wife even when life throws a curve ball and you fall sick. No matter what anyone says you are his saving grace, his beautiful Angel. He will always be happy to remind you how much you mean to him.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Disabled!Reader

Strength comes from within. It comes with facing the world with a smile despite how much the world expects you to break down. It comes from having that special someone in your life who will cheer and support you through thick and thin. This was a tale of a woman braving every battle of her life with a heart that never gives up. It's a tale of two people who never stop loving, despite what the world tells them.

💃💃 Body Positivity 💃💃

Flowers for the Mirror by @the-soulofdevil

Pairing: None. But ima say Stucky X reader

I have very few words to say about this entry. It's something so raw and potent, something so universal in its hurt and love that I don't think I can express what it is in words. To road to healing is a bumpy one, a almost never ending one, but it's so rewarding. If you're someone who has ever found it difficult to look into a mirror, who has ever felt they weren't beautiful enough, please read this. Your soul will find in these words a kindred spirit

💃💃 Body Positivity 💃💃

Turn the Lights On by @sweetlyscared : You can hide when the lights are off, but Steve will always seek you.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

The journey to love and acceptance is laced with pain and scars. But it's so important to realise that their presence doesn't mar your beauty. It doesn't make you weak or imperfect. It makes you a warrior. A fighter. This fic is for everyone whose scars tell a story that is difficult to put it words. It's a fic to celebrate yourself and your bravery.

💃💃Body Positivity💃💃

Just The Way You Are by @jamesbarnesappreciationclub : Cassia’s inner phoenix awakens thanks to Bucky.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC! Cassia Maddox

Healing from the past takes time, but it's easier to do so with a person by your side who sees the best in you. For those who find themselves alone, know that there is always that one person who would go out of their way to make you smile.

#dibspositivitychallenge #fic rec #writer rec #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #steve x reader #bucky x reader #stucky x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #hook x ofc #sam wilson x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #andy barber x reader #silverfox andy barber x reader

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mutants-and-soldiers · 4 years ago

Text

Lovely Dissonance {Part 1}

summary || After a long hiatus, you've decided to throw yourself back into your one passion: Singing. It's been a rocky road since the accident but you're ready to get back onto your feet and brush off those singing chops that have been put to the side. You just don't expect to find something more than just a fulfilling career.

pairing || singer!Bucky x singer!Reader x pianist!Steve

word count || 3683

warnings || Musician AU, Trauma, Healing, Body insecurities, future polyamory, depression, PTSD — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes || This is my entry for @gotnofucks Body Positivity Challenge

It was supposed to be a one-shot but I have found I'm terrible at one-shots! Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Also on Ao3

Divider by Gordon Jordon on Pix

It was that time of year again: Audition Season.

While exciting to add new members to the chorus, it was also very brutal on the oldest members of the group because they were expected to be at every single audition. It showed that the conductor, Director Fury, put a lot of weight in their opinion, which was nice, but it also meant they were in the concert hall until about 10 every night. It got old really fast when most of the auditions were lack-luster or just downright awful.

Bucky looked down at the stage and smiled at his boyfriend. The blond was sitting behind the piano, strong hands and long fingers flying across the keys like it wasn’t even that hard. Steve was the chorus accompanist so, truthfully, did the most work during auditions. If nothing else, Bucky was here just to support the beautiful blond man.

Tonight was to replace one of their oldest members who had decided she wanted to travel the world in her retirement. It was a hard blow because May was quite the mezzo-soprano, one of a kind, really. The seven auditions they had already listened to were nowhere near her caliber and it seemed like they may not get a good replacement.

Fury checked his watch after the last person walked off stage. “Five minutes until we’re done. How many are we missing?” he asked with his monotone voice.

“Only one didn’t show,” Natasha answered, handing him the resume.

“Well, if she’s not here in five minutes she’s-”

The doors behind them opened. Bucky placed his arm across the back of the chair so he could turn and look at the woman. She was breathing heavily and there was a bit of sweat on her brow. In the bright lights of the hall, Bucky squinted a little. He could have sworn he had seen her somewhere before but couldn’t place it.

Director Fury says her name with an unimpressed tone. “Cutting it kind of close aren’t you?”

There is a slight look of embarrassment on her face as she walks down the aisle, bag slung over her shoulder. It was white with black music notes and symbols all over it. “I’m sorry, Mr. Fury, I just got out of work. I rushed over as quickly as I could,” she explained, eyes looking at all of the people sitting there. Her eyes lingered a little longer on Bucky.

Fury sizes her up before waving his hand. “Go on, give your music to Steve on the stage.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, the expression lighting up her face. She walks on delicate, lacy flats to the stage stairs. Her dress was elegant and reminded Bucky of a dress that one would wear when performing. It went all the way down to the ground, delicate lace over black silk judging by the way it moved as she walked confidently across the stage. The top went all the way up to a high collar that was ruffled with lace that matched her flowing sleeves.

Bucky couldn’t help but notice how her ample bosom subtly bounced and how her wide hips and full bottom swayed when she walked. She was a full bodied woman whose face carried features not normally associated with what was ‘pretty’ and ‘feminine’. It didn’t take Bucky long to find her adequately attractive.

She walked up to Steve with her sheet music pressed against her chest before offering it to him. Her form leaned close as they shared a few whispered words, her finger pointing out things on the music. Steve smiled at her, nodding his head as she explained something.

Satisfied, she walked to center stage.

“What are you singing for us today?” Fury asked, sounding bored and ready to leave.

“I’ll be singing, Please Don’t Make Me Love You from the musical Dracula,” she said easily.

Bucky’s eyes widened a bit at the bold choice. They had heard no less than three renditions of Ave Maria today so the change was nice but...the song was notoriously hard to sing. Fury’s mouth thinned out, anticipating another disaster.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

She took a deep breath, eyes closed and head bowed. Her moment came to an end when her head raised and her eyes opened. There was something different about them as they locked on the audience. They were full of the confidence and cool that professional musicians and vocalists brought to the stage.

She gave a slight nod to Steve who started the first few lamenting bars that set the feeling for the piece. Her eyes took on a half-lidded look to them, fully playing into the sad, longing that the song spoke of. Bucky watched as her body expanded with her first breath, eyes lifting as soon as she sang her first words.

“There’s only so much that a heart can take.”

He could feel it as soon as she started, the tension in the group around him skyrocketing. They were all shocked when her voice came out even, clear and sonorous. She had a good vibrato that wasn’t too fast or slow but perfect for the song and her control was obviously from years of training. This wasn’t a beginner who just up and decided one day to join a chorus.

Her musicality as she pulled and pushed the tempo helped to drive home the desperation of the character. The look in her eyes reflected that longing so much that Bucky almost thought he saw tears glistening in them. Bucky could see her subtle cues to Steve when she wanted to slow down or speed up that made it seem like they had practiced this together instead of just meeting.

“All my dreams were taken, until I met you!” she sang, eyes meeting Bucky’s in an almost palpable way. He felt his stomach flip at the dejected, pleading look on her face, beautiful cupid bow of her lip quivering.

“You’re the one I think of soon as I awaken...funny how the heart tells the mind what to do!” she continued, last word being sung long. Once the next line started, she whipped away, one hand on the edge of the piano and the other at her heart. “I’m not sure I can go through all the joy and the pain. Much better not to let these dreams take flight!”

Bucky felt chills pop up along the skin of his neck and arm as she turned back to the audience with her hands out. Her face glistened with sweat, her eyes wet with unshed tears and her voice clear and clean as she belted out the last word. It completely took over the room, blending with the piano beautifully into the key change.

Her eyes were back to looking at Bucky, voice doing stupid things to his chest as she continued belting out the notes like they were nothing. She was suddenly a lot more attractive to the tenor. Her voice and talent were...overwhelming.

The music subsided into a solemn diminuendo and she lowered her voice to a devastated dynamic. “Please don’t make me love you,” she took a very deliberate pause with a ragged intake of air to add more drama, “Unless you love me.”

The last note lingered in the air, vibrato making it last longer until it finally died out with the last note of the piano. There was dead silence for a few seconds afterward which was only broken by Bucky sighing, “Wow.”

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud but he just felt a performance like that justified some kind of reaction. She smiled sheepishly, bowing deeply before walking over to grab her music from Steve. Bucky couldn’t hear what he said but he could read the words on the blond’s lips, “That was fantastic!”

She gave another shy smile. “Thank you.”

“You’ll know the results in a week,” Fury called out to her as she walked down the aisle.

“Great, thank you so much for the opportunity!” she smiles, face a little damp from the stage lights. Her eyes flit across Bucky’s face for just a little too long before she averts them and walks to the door.

There is silence until the door closes behind her. Everyone in the group turned to Fury and started talking all at the same time. Natasha, their lead alto, was talking about how steady her voice was; Thor, a baritone, was talking about her stage presence; Sam, a bass, went on and on about her vibrato; and all Bucky said was that she was the one.

Fury held up his hand to get them to stop talking all at once. “I hear you,” he grumbled, looking at her resume. He had a salty look on his face. “She’s not really...appealing.”

Bucky felt his brow squeeze together. “Since when did that matter? If I’m not mistaken, Pavaratti was basically a whale when he died so why should her appearance matter?” he questioned aggressively.

Looking at the people in the group, Bucky suddenly realized that they were all very attractive. He couldn’t tell if it was a conscious choice on Fury’s part but it definitely seemed to be a subconscious bias. Fury had heard a mezzo that could probably give May a run for her money and they were second guessing because...what? She had a bit extra to her stomach and hips?

His eye twitched, anger starting to turn his vision red. It wasn’t until a strong hand landed on his shoulder that he came back to himself. Steve’s calming presence was enough to bring him back from the edge. He took a deep breath, glad for his boyfriend more than ever.

“Fury, I have to agree with everyone here. She had all of her changes marked in the music and gave me great signs so that I could follow her. She doesn’t just have talent...she’s a professional!” he pointed out, fingers squeezing Bucky’s shoulder gently.

“She didn’t even do a classical piece. She chose something from musical theatre repertoire,” Fury points out, completely abandoning the former reason.

Natasha, surprisingly, was the one to butt in this time. “Listen to me, if I had to hear another fucking version of Ave Maria I was going to pull my hair out, Fury. It was a nice change of pace and it’s not like she can’t change styles!”

“We need someone who can fill May’s shoes,” Thor adds.

“And none of the other applicants came anywhere close,” Sam said before Fury could interrupt.

The director looked between all of the people standing there and sighed in defeat. “Fine. She gets the spot.”

You are excited to get started with the group when the email pops into your inbox letting you know you got the spot. It very nearly had all the air whooshing out of your lungs as you stood in the kitchen of the diner you worked in staring at the words on your phone. The giddy feeling replaced the air as you walked into your boss's office.

“I quit!” you happily shouted, throwing down your apron and the stupid bonnet they made you wear. The look on the asshole’s face was more than worth it as you walked right out the back, grabbing your backpack on the way and got into your car.

It took a few days to get all the paperwork set up but by the time the first day of rehearsal came around, you were ready. You made sure to get there early your first day to make a good impression. You had only been that late to the audition because your boss kept trying to get you to go out with him.

Standing in front of the huge concert hall, your heart hammered. It was a sickening mixture of anxiety and excitement. You hadn’t been on a stage in...years. The fact that some of your favorite vocalists were in this ensemble made it worse. You would be standing where May Parker stood for nearly two decades with Natasha Romanoff, the greatest alto of your generation, standing right behind you and just a hop and a skip away was the tenor James Barnes, said to be the next Andrea Bocelli.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door into the lobby. There were two sets of doors on the wall and two staircases that led up to the balconies. You stepped in through the right doors.

The auditorium was well lit today with plush red seats that led to a hardwood stage. There were already two people sitting on the risers. You recognized them immediately: James Barnes and Steven Rogers.

If your heart hadn’t been pounding before, it definitely was now. They were both looking your way so there was no way to sneak back out either. It struck home when the blond called your name, waving with a pleasant smile.

You gripped your bag a little tighter as you walked down the aisle to them, putting on a smile. “Hi,” you say when you get a little closer. “I guess I’m a little earlier than I thought.”

The two men stood up off the risers. They seemed to loom over your short form as they came down the stairs to stand in front of you. James had a little half grin, a bit of a dusting of hair on his upper lip and chin, with his hands shoved in the pockets of his faded jeans, dark henley shirt sleeves tight over his biceps. You try to keep your eyes from lingering on the black and gold metal of his prosthetic arm.

Steven on the other hand had an open, bright smile that lit up his baby blue eyes. He had a well groomed beard and mustache that circled his very distracting lips. He was wearing a dark blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His jeans were dark and looked brand new.

“We’re glad to see you back,” Steven said sweetly, standing with his hands on his narrow hips.

“Your audition was fantastic, by the way,” James interrupted quickly. “I didn’t get to tell you that afterward. I was kind of struck speechless.”

The heat on your cheeks was distracting. You remember the way he whispered, wow, at the end of your performance, which had been more of a reward than any applause. The shock in his eyes as you sang to him because, who else would you sing to in that group? He was beautiful and probably broke hearts all the time with that little crooked grin of his.

“Thank you,” you whisper, embarrassed and happy. “That means a lot coming from you, Mr. Barnes.”

Steven laughs brightly, elbowing the brunette playfully. “Mr. Barnes,” he teased, eyes glistening with a mischievousness that you hadn’t expected from him.

Steely blue eyes cut to the side at the giggling blond as if in warning. When they settled on you, they were gentle and amused. “You can call me Bucky. No need for formalities,” he said with that half grin. “And before you call him Mr. Rogers, he’s Steve.”

You feel like you might burst with happiness. Being on a first name basis with one of the great tenors of your time and a man who used to travel the world playing piano recitals? It was too much.

“Here, let me get your music,” Steve smiled, turning around to walk over to the large stand. There was a box under it with black folders. He handed it over so that you could open it up. “We’re doing a lot of really great music this season.”

The three of you go over the music. You’re a little shocked at the mixture of new-age and classical repertoire in the season’s list. One in particular catches your attention: E Più Ti Penso.

“That seems a little...new,” you point out, looking over the sheet music. It was a duet between a mezzo-soprano and tenor. Your mind automatically went to Bucky and yourself singing it but you cut yourself short. There were plenty of other sopranos in the ensemble who would probably get that part. You were brand new, better to not step on any toes.

“Yeah, not usually a choice that Fury would make but we’re collaborating with the local symphony orchestra and they’re focusing on movie music this season,” Steve explained, standing next to you so he could point out the title of the movie. “It was for the movie Once Upon a Time in America. They insisted even when Fury tried to shut it down.”

You must have looked a little...forlorn because Bucky spoke up. “You should audition for the part,” he said with a gentle smile.

Your mouth opened to decline but the doors opened at that moment so more people could come into the hall. It was time to get into your places.

The rehearsal began with some warm-ups and you got swept away in the familiar routine. Sight-reading pieces after being out of the business for so long was a little difficult but you find that it was like riding a bike. Once you got past your nerves and let yourself relax into the familiarity of the work everything was fine. It made you happy to be singing again after such a long hiatus and it sure as fuck beat working at that greasy diner for dollar tips.

It, truthfully, ended far too soon for your liking. You quickly put the folder into your bookbag, slinging it over your shoulder just as Bucky walked up to offer you a hand down off the risers. Seeing as you were in a long skirt, you took the offer. His fingers were warm and calloused where they wrapped around yours, firm enough to let you know he’d catch you if you tripped.

“A few of us were going to go out for a drink, would you like to join us?” the man asked once you were safely on the ground. Again, you felt like the tenor towered over you.

Your knee jerk reaction was to decline but...you couldn’t. The look in those steely blue eyes was enough to make you relent. “Sure, that sounds nice,” you smile sheepishly.

“There’s a bar we like to go to that isn’t too far,” Steve interjected as he walked over, wrapping an arm around the brunette’s waist. It should be illegal for two such beautiful men to look so great together.

“Come on you three!” Thor boomed excitedly from across the auditorium. Natasha, Clint and Peter were all standing with him. You were a little scared to be around such an impressive group of musicians. It wasn’t until a cold metal hand pressed into the small of your back that you realized you weren’t moving.

Bucky and Steve both looked down at you with gentle, encouraging smiles, seeming to understand your hesitation. It might just be your mind coming up with stupid things but it did make you feel better. You didn’t mind the heavy hand that helped usher you up the aisle to the group.

You actually enjoyed yourself sitting outside with a table full of musicians. They were all very different but somehow made an excellent group. The main mechanic and technology director of the concert hall, Tony, joined you later as well. It was fun to listen to all of the ribbing and banter from the group.

Peter, the countertenor who turned out to be May Parker’s nephew, leaned towards you. “Aren’t you hot in all of those layers?” he asked curiously, big brown eyes full of youth and innocence. “It’s a nice night. You can take off your cardigan.”

He wasn’t trying to be rude just concerned because you had some sweat dripping down the side of your face and neck. It was rather warm even with the sun going down. You had a white cardigan over a dark blue blouse and a skirt that went all the way down to the ground.

“Thank you, but I’m fine,” you smile sweetly, tugging at the bottom of your cardigan sleeve.

The young man didn’t seem convinced but left it alone, turning back to the group. You enjoyed yourself with two drinks before standing to excuse yourself. “I had better head home before it gets too dark,” you smile apologetically, waving down the server to get your tab.

“Your drinks are on us,” Clint said with a crooked grin. He was a baritone in the ensemble and had the funniest sense of humor. “Welcome to the ensemble.”

Your cheeks heat again. You did, in fact, feel very welcomed to the group. “Thank you,” you say weakly, grabbing your backpack. “I’ll see you guys at rehearsal next week.”

Bucky and Steve stood up. “Let us walk you home,” they said in unison.

The group burst out into laughter when your eyes widened almost comically at their synchronicity. “You get used to that eventually,” Natasha grumbled into her drink affectionately.

“You really don’t have to do that,” you whisper, looking around at the darkening sky. It would be very dark by the time you got to your apartment.

“We insist,” Steve smiled sweetly, handing some cash to the server.

So that’s the story of how you ended up with the two big men on either side of you walking towards your apartment. It was, truthfully, very sweet of them to offer. You currently lived in a not so great part of town because it was all you could afford while working at the diner. Now that you were making nearly three times that you could start looking for other living arrangements.

When you turned into your neighborhood, you stopped dead in your tracks recognizing the person standing in front of your apartment building. Steve and Bucky also stopped, casting confused looks in your direction. Your previous boss was standing in front of your apartment, leaning against the brick railing of the stairs.

Involuntarily, your hands wrapped around Steve’s bicep. “It’s my former boss,” you whisper, dragging the large man into the alleyway. A very confused Bucky followed suit without needing to be told. “What is he doing at my apartment?”

Taglist: @ladydmalfoy

Please reblog, comment and like if you enjoyed it! If you’d like to be added to my taglist then please just send me a message!

#dibspositivitychallenge #series #stucky x reader #slow burn #tw: body insecurity #steve rogersxreaderxbucky barnes #steve rogers x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #Vocalist AU #Pianist!Steve Rogers #Tenor!Bucky Barnes

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angrythingstarlight · 4 years ago

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i think this was a while ago, but just wondering if you’re planning on doing something for dibspositivitychallenge ? :) no pressure at all if not just curious!

I did. A while ago. It's a great challenge!

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gotnofucks · 4 years ago

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Your body positivity challenge is awesome !! I know which prompts I'll use but this would be for rpf from a different fandom and i's a triplets a/b/o version of them. Is that okay?

Thank you so much! I'm very excited for the challenge too. And yes! Anything goes. I'm open to you exploring your own writing with this too and giving me some new content. So of course, that's okay. Happy writing! ❤️

#dibs answers #dibspositivitychallenge

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saiyanprincessswanie · 4 years ago

Text

My Angel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Disabled!Female Reader

Word Count: 1395

Warnings: Fluff, Talk of Disability, Emotional Issues,

Summary: Steve is proud to call you his wife even when life throws a curve ball and you fall sick. No matter what anyone says you are his saving grace, his beautiful Angel. He will always be happy to remind you how much you mean to him.

A/N: This is for @gotnofucks body positivity challenge. The challenge says “Pick something that may make someone self-conscious or insecure and make them feel better about themselves.” I chose my disability that I deal with every single day. Some know about it. I don’t normally discuss it much but this challenge really spoke to me. So you will see a glimpse into our lives. I read this to my husband and he legit cried. He said, “It’s like you wrote exactly what I feel about you.” He did laugh when I told him I put Steve Rogers in the husband role. LOL!

A/N 2: Italics are a flashback. Also, thank you to @pigwidgeonxo & @music-culture-mythology for beta reading this.

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OLD.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps or third party sites. If you see my work anywhere else besides my personal accounts on Tumblr & AO3 then it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

The warmth from the sun casts its rays across their shared bed as his wife sleeps peacefully curled up next to him. He smiles knowing that she is his little angel and he feels blessed to have her by his side.

Life hasn’t been easy for them since the diagnosis that she received. Steve had promised her the day they got the news he would be by her side every step of the way. Their journey so far has seen many hospital visits, doctor appointments, and a variety of different tests. All of them saying there is nothing they can do for her except treat the symptoms.

So every morning Steve lets her sleep knowing that her body kept her up late from the pain she was in. Exhaustion had taken over only an hour ago as she softly cried against his chest, his hand rubbing gentle circles on her back.

Steve gets up quietly like most mornings and gets himself showered and dressed. By the time his sweet angel wakes up, he's by her side. His strong hands are soft and careful as he helps her stand up. The risk of fainting is high as she goes from being in bed so long to now suddenly standing, but as she wavers Steve holds her hips tight until the feeling passes.

Steve places her walker in front of her body, her hands holding tight as she takes her first steps of the day. He follows closely behind her as she makes her way to the bathroom.

Her legs feel like jello as she walks 'pigeon-toed' as the doctor calls it to the bathroom. She can barely get her legs to move but she presses on to get her morning routine over with. Her motto is always a simple one, “get two feet on the ground and it will be a good day.” That’s what she has lived by since her body started to break down.

Once she has relieved herself, washed her hands, and brushed her teeth she heads back to the bedroom.

Steve follows again behind her until she reaches the bed. He knows her heart is beating as if she just ran a race, so he guides her to sit down so he can grab her clothes for the day. Many people have told him he should have married someone healthy, who can work and bring something to the marriage. As he slowly dresses her for the day he recalls a conversation that took place last night.

“I don’t know why you are with her. She can’t give you the life you deserve. She is a fragile doll that could break at any minute. How are you supposed to have children when you are taking care of her?” Sharon tried to plead her case but Steve cut her off.

Steve narrowed his eyes at her, his stance widening as his anger simmered to a boil. “What I deserve is to be happy and she makes me feel that every single day. She is so strong getting up every morning with a smile on her face. She doesn’t complain about what she can’t do or how much she suffers. Instead, she conquers the day like a goddess and I’m literally in awe of her. If you could live one day in her shoes I know for a fact you wouldn’t have an ounce of grace like she does.” Steve had stormed off away from Sharon and as soon as his eyes locked with his wife’s he could see the tears in her eyes. He knew that his friend hurt his wife but the tears were not from what Sharon said. Instead, his wife later confessed she couldn’t believe how he once again stood up for her against someone who was supposed to be his friend.

The fact is Steve wouldn’t change a thing about his marriage or the woman he fell in love with. Watching her every day persevering in the face of uncertainty makes him feel proud to call her his wife. Unlike other women in the past, his angel has been by his side in good and bad times. She has never judged his past, has always given him the emotional support he has always craved. Most importantly, she has loved him as no other has ever had in his past. He would go to hell and back for her if he needed to. His angel was his everything.

Gently Steve carried her from the bedroom to the couch in the living room. He places a blanket over her lap and hands his angel a book she’s been reading over the last several days. Placing a soft kiss on her forehead he makes his way into the kitchen and prepares breakfast. Once her meal is made he carries it out to the couch and puts it on the tv tray next to her.

As she eats her meal in peace Steve brings out the first of many medicines that she has to take that day, placing them on her table. Sipping his coffee he can’t help but smile as her eyes close and she hums in content from eating everything he cooked. She took her pills with the rest of her juice and looked into his blue eyes.

“What are you smiling about?” she asks.

Placing his coffee on the table next to the couch he watches her as she fidgets. “I’m smiling because of you angel. I think you are the only one who likes what I cook.”

“Well I mean it’s either eat this or starve.” She jokes as she side-eyes him.

“Why you little punk.” Steve moves quickly, gently pinning her to the couch, and starts to tickle her sides. She squeals as his fingers lightly move into her more ticklish spots. “Are you saying my cooking is bad?” He playfully mocks as she laughs harder. Steve’s legs are straddling her body, caging her in as he teases her.

“I was joking! I love your cooking. Steve-please!” She chuckles as his fingers finally stop. He knows not to push her too hard as she catches her breath.

Steve pulls her to sit up as they both smirk at one another. “Are you okay, angel?” His hands rub up and down her arms.

“Of course I am. I’m not a fragile doll despite what others think.” She looks away from him thinking of the night before.

Steve's heart feels like it could break. “Hey doll, look at me.” She hesitates a moment before looking back at him, his hand grasps hers as he kisses the back of each one. “I don’t want you to even let what that woman said last night get to you.”

“But Steve…” she tries to plead her case but he interrupts her.

“Listen, you are my wife. I fell in love with you for who you are. You, my angel, are the strongest woman that I know. You get up every day and fight battles that I could never imagine. On top of that, you never ask for sympathy and legit get mad at people when they try to pity you. You’re brave, positive, resilient, compassionate, and most of all a badass.”

Steve wipes her tears away as she chuckles. “I don’t know about badass babe.”

“Are you saying I don’t know a badass when I see one? I mean hell, Nat couldn’t even hold a candle to you and I’ve literally watched her kick ass. You’re my beautiful wife Mrs. Rogers. I don’t want anyone else in this world or, hell, the entire universe.” Steve gently cups her cheek and she nuzzles into it. “Do you remember our vows? We both said, in sickness and in health. I’m always going to be here no matter what. You’re stuck with me angel until the end of the line.”

Leaning towards him she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into a passionate kiss. At that moment after hearing him talk all she feels is love and admiration. Every doubt she has melts away as he expunges every negative thought she has about herself. It doesn’t matter what others think or how they saw her. To Steve, she hung the moon high in the night sky and shines bright for all to see. This is true love and true love conquers all.

#saiyanprincessswanie #my angel #steve rogers #steve rogers x disabled reader #positivity challenge #dibspositivitychallenge #body postivity #postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome #ehlers danlos syndrome #gastroparesis #fibromyalgia #potsawareness #disabled reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #missy writes

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gotnofucks · 4 years ago

Note

How do I go about signing up for your body positivity challenge? Do I need to give you the one or ones I want to write about? Or do I just do the thing and then tag you?

You just need to write it and tag me in it. And I'll be honoured to have you take part in it. Happy writing 💕

#dibs answers #dibspositivitychallenge

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gotnofucks · 4 years ago

Text

Oh Lexi my darling, my sweet sweet baby, how do I begin to talk about how special reading this was for me? I'm a little overwhelmed with emotions after reading this but I'll try to express myself.

Dealing with body image issues is never easy. In a world where movies, magazines, TV series and other media houses have taken to showing perfect, spotless models as the most desirable women, dealing with our real bodies is not easy. We feel slighted, we feel unwanted and insignificant. Sometimes, we also feel unworthy.

From our Neighborhood wali aunty to our cousin, everyone chooses to comment on our flaws. "Oh beta did you gain weight? My son lost 10 kgs after...." And "ladka kaise milega?". When every person seeks to bring us down by pressing on an already throbbing wound, getting back up from our bad days is difficult.

But as difficult as this struggle is, more difficult is putting it into words as you have done. It was a personal Odysseus, a task to delve inside and talk about something so intimate and personal. You chose to bare yourself and your fears to us Lexi, and for that I thank you.

Watching the reader struggle with mean comments and her own demons was heartbreaking. People in the world are horrible to judge a person by what they look. And of course, being with someone as physically beautiful as Steve would certainly flare the nerves because you only wanna be perfect and worthy of him, to be a good match.

This was particularly hard to read since I've altered diets in the past after someone made a pass at my weight. To watch this incredible, stunning woman suffer like this broke my heart. I understand the need to get rid of these marks, the frustration that comes when nothing seems to work.

Looking into the mirror she sees a wrecked girl who has little worth because of her body, but she seldom looks inside that beating heart of hers that is forever pure and pretty.

"I see a beautiful, and gorgeous young woman. A fierce, independent and strong woman, who is not afraid to back down from any challenge or adversity. She faces it head-on, like a lioness. But most importantly, I see a woman I love, who I cherish, and the only person I can see spending my life with."

Oh Steve, thank you so much for saying this. He knows he finds beauty in her body. He knows he finds beauty in her smile. He knows he finds beauty in her strength and resilience. Beauty is varied, and if one looks deep enough, it's everywhere ❤️

Of course Steve understands what she's going through. He was once that person, in fact, he still is. He's always wondering if people love him or the serum that runs inside him. The skinny pre-serum Steve heart of his would always beat and wonder if he was enough now.

"But that doesn't change things, Steve. I've tried so hard to get rid of these..these imperfections. I don't understand how to tackle this. I'm so...conflicted..and confused."

I am really glad you decided to talk about this. Issues that have run deep for years won't be gone away in a few minutes, but that doesn't mean it didn't fade a little. It helps knowing there is person out there who loves you despite every flaw you may think you have. There is a person who loves you more than you love yourself. Knowing that makes it easier to walk this difficult path.

Sweetheart, I understand. I do. But trust me when I say this, that no one is perfect. And no one will ever be as perfect as you are to me. These marks, if anything, make you more appealing and sexy to me. It shows me that you're human, in a world of plastic smiles and bodies. A beautiful human with a kind, nurturing heart and soul. You're perfect to me and I have no doubts that you will be an amazing wife and mother, as you have been a girlfriend to me. I love every inch of you, and will always do so. Never doubt that. To hell with what people think. They can go and set up camp in a place where the sun don't shine." He finished, grinning.

Oh my heart melted. This is true love and companionship right here. I love their relationship. It's so beautiful and open, so real and lovely. I love how they both understood and appreciate the true value of each other. And that ending sass from Steve? Glorious.

I love the ending so so much. The fact that she's finding her catharsis in being vulnerable and naked before Steve is so empowering. The very thing that gave her anxiety is now what made her feel loved and cherished. Being perfect is a state of mind, and the both of them burn just right for each other.

Lexi, thank you so much for this entry. It was deeply personal, I know. But it was also deeply motivating and empowering for the lot of us. I love you sweetheart ❤️ keep shining 💞

♡The Mark of an Angel♡

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem! Reader

Warnings: 18+, mention of cellulite, stretch marks, eating issues, body dysmorphia, slight body shaming, body negativity, talk about different body types, general body anxiety, angst, fluff, implied sexual content, please DO NOT read if any of this stuff bothers you, MINORS DNI.

A/N: This is my entry for Dibs' Body Positivity Challenge (@gotnofucks ). Dibs, you are a gem, and I cannot thank you enough for shedding light on this. I struggle a lot with self love and body image, so this is very close to my heart. To all you lovely people out there, know that you are not alone. Society and media has warped our idea of normalcy, but let me tell you what you see in movies and on TV are not real bodies. Every person is different, every body is different. I have now learnt to love myself, because my body has kept me alive and working in a situation like this pandemic, irrespective of my size and shape. I hope and pray that everyone stays healthy and safe in these times.

Minors DNI, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Not beta'ed, any mistakes, grammatical or otherwise are all mine. I post my stuff only on Tumblr and AO3, nowhere else. I do not give anyone permission to reproduce, copy or translate my work. Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics

Join my taglist and check out my masterlist for more!

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, grimacing a tad. Your skin was marred by those marks, on your stomach, your breasts, your thighs. They were everywhere. It was really disheartening. You had grown up to be a chubby girl, hoping, wishing, praying as each day passed, that you, too, would blossom and grow and be tall and thin like the girls in your class.

You were 25 now, still waiting for that miracle.

You hadn't blossomed the way you wanted to. You didn't have a taut belly, firm thighs or a peach shaped ass. The stretch marks were one thing, nut so was the cellulite. Try as much as you did, you couldn't ignore all these small factors. And how could you? You were engaged to one of the World's most handsome men, a Greek God, a perfect specimen among mere mortals. Steve Rogers looked like he had been sculpted by God himself. That man hadn't a freckle out of place, let alone stretch marks and cellulite. How he had fallen in love with you was a mystery to you, in addition to thousands of news outlets and other media outlets. A simple outing like going to the beach was a Herculean task for you: even then, you would only wear shorts and a teeshirt, ashamed to expose any part of your skin. You wore knee length skirts and pants to ensure that he wouldn't see the cellulite on your thighs.

And so it began: starting fad diets, appetite suppressant pills, detox teas, "miracle-working" anti-cellulite, stretch mark removal creams and massage oils. You stopped eating full meals, instead just eating half of what you would normally eat. You made excuses for going to dinners and other public outings with Steve, feigning work or even fatigue. Sometimes it wasn't even a lie; you felt exhausted due to lack of proper food. Steve saw that you'd been missing meals, which he did not approve of. Many a times you found a plate of cut fruit on your table, which he placed everytime he saw you working. You ate a bite or two of it, but you persisted in your endeavours. You had to do something about it. You had to make yourself worthy enough to be Steve's wife. You dry brushed yourself till your skin was red and raw, trying to erase the marks of cellulite that the world would no doubt ridicule; an imperfection in the otherwise perfect life of Steve Rogers.

So you stood in front of that mirror, everyday. Trying to check if you were there yet; if you were beautiful, thin, "skinny" enough to be his wife. The marks stared back at you, the roadblocks in your soon-to-be married life. Steve had never mentioned them, nor had you even talked about them to him. But you did try to hide your body from him every chance you got, turning down the lights everytime you had sex. The marks and cellulite stayed hidden, as did your fear of them, atleast for the moment.

That's where you were right now. Cursing yourself. Cursing your genes, cursing your parents for not allowing you to look the way the world would like you to look. The comments on the press release about your wedding didn't help either, the internet's venomous and scathing remarks about how Steve had "settled" for you adding onto your insecurities, threatening to drown you. A few tears made their way down your face. Were you really that hideous?

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't hear Steve walk in, who was stopping by to ask you for lunch. He'd noticed that you were a bit withdrawn these past few days, but chalked it up to work stress and pressure. He entered the room, seeing you cry, cradling your face with your hands. Alarmed, he rushed to you, gathering you in his arms.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?! Is everything ok? Are you hurt?" He asked, his firm arms cocooning you.

"I...I don't think...we..should get married..Steve.."

"What? Why? Talk to me, sweetheart, tell me what happened!" Steve said, panic settling in his voice.

Turning him to face the mirror, you met his eyes, bewilderment meeting resignation and shame.

"Look at you. Tall, muscular, well-built. You're practically Adonis, like you've just walked off the pages of a magazine. Millions of girls and guys would be willing to throw themselves at you and worship at your feet, most of them much prettier, skinnier and better looking than me."

"And now look at me. I am not you, Steve, and I probably never will be. I try to block out every article, every comment written out there, but I'm not blind. I can see what they're talking about; and it's true. We are so different, in many ways. How can I ever match up to literal perfection?"

You looked down, unable to meet his eyes. He would surely understand your decision, and why you were not willing to go through with this union. It was better if you dealt with it quickly, so that you could get over him quickly.

"My love, look at me. Please." His soft voice broke you out of your reverie. Standing behind you, he kept his hands on your shoulders, placing soft kisses in your hair, till you met his gaze in the mirror.

"Do you know what I see, when I look at you?"

Grazing his fingertips over your marks, he gently placed a kiss along the column of your neck, the heady combination of sensations wreaking havoc. You felt your tears begin again, his words weighing down your already heavy heart. You wanted to believe him, to trust him, but how could you? It had taken years for these insecurities to keep building up, it would take longer for them to be broken down.

"Growing up, I wasn't who I am now." He continued. "I was a skinny guy, weighing a 100 pounds soaking wet. Being Bucky's friend used to be tough, seeing all the beautiful dames fawn over him and barely throwing so much as a glance my way. Somedays I still see myself as that skinny man, who wasn't even eligible to be a soldier, let alone a Captain. The serum changed only my physical features, but on the inside, I am still insecure. Still that Steve who wasn't good enough for the army, let alone a woman."

He sat you on the bed, taking your hand in his, placing soft kisses on your knuckles. "That changed when I met you, sweetheart. You saw me for who I am. You didn't want to be with Captain America, with the leader of The Avengers. You wanted to be with plain old Steve, who likes watching war documentaries, eats only vanilla icecream, still doesn't quite understand how technology works. You make me a better man, and everyday with you is like an adventure."

Lowering you onto the bed, he left featherlight kisses on the marks on your breasts, raising himself to leave the most tender kiss on your lips. You spoke after a beat,

"But that doesn't change things, Steve. I've tried so hard to get rid of these..these imperfections. I don't understand how to tackle this. I'm so...conflicted..and confused." You sobbed, tears streaming down your face. He leaned down, kissing your tears away, rubbing his nose to yours.

"Sweetheart, I understand. I do. But trust me when I say this, that no one is perfect. And no one will ever be as perfect as you are to me. These marks, if anything, make you more appealing and sexy to me. It shows me that you're human, in a world of plastic smiles and bodies. A beautiful human with a kind, nurturing heart and soul. You're perfect to me and I have no doubts that you will be an amazing wife and mother, as you have been a girlfriend to me. I love every inch of you, and will always do so. Never doubt that. To hell with what people think. They can go and set up camp in a place where the sun don't shine." He finished, grinning.

You chuckled, running your palm over his slight stubble. You were still apprehensive, but your lover's words calmed you down. He loved you, plain and simple. You felt his love through his actions, his kisses, trailing down your body, lips adorning every mark, every part of your body you had been too ashamed to bare to him. But that stopped today, or atleast you hoped it would. Maybe with time, it would get better. But you knew for sure, that you wouldn't begin your married life with doubts and apprehensions.

You bared yourself to him completely, resisting the urge to dash under the covers. He kissed your dimpled areas, your stretch marks, as if worshipping you and your body with reverance. As he seated himself deep within you, you gasped, staring deep into his eyes, tears forming yet again.

Neither of you were perfect. But that was ok. Because to you, he was perfect, and so were you, to him. And that's all you needed.

P.S. I'll do the taglists tomorrow, post my exam.

#fic rec #dibspositivitychallenge

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syntheticavenger · 4 years ago

Text

All You Need

This is my submission for @gotnofucks Body Positivity challenge. I won’t be doing a lot of posting at the moment but I did want to try to submit something. Dibs, this is such a wonderful idea and I love it! A huge thank you to @punemy-spotted for helping me settle on a plot!

Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Language (Negative self-talk about the body), angst and a positive ending.

Summary | Steve whisks you away for your first weekend together to take your mind off of work but sharing a bed together brings back insecurities you’d tried to hide.

It isn’t until you see the hotel coming into view, majestic against the backdrop of the mountains as the afternoon sun shines down, that you realize you left your bug repellent at home.

Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue, except you aren’t staying in one of the big suites where you can enjoy the landscape in peace from the balcony. Steve decided that he wanted to try one of the cabins that the hotel is known for, right out along the lake. You were excited to get away from work, your first official weekend together since you’d been a couple.

Bug repellent.

You need it.

When the car is parked, Steve kisses your cheek, telling you to stay inside as he goes to check in. You relax in your seat, looking around at the different landscape. You can appreciate the leisurely way the hotel employees walk, smiling at each other with a wave. Work in the city is obviously much more hustle and bustle and you find yourself wondering if you could ever give it up and move somewhere quiet.

You chew on your lower lip while you think about this weekend. Steve has been looking forward to this for weeks. He’s going to teach you how to fish, have a campfire by the lake and more importantly – at least to you – this will be the first time you will be sharing a bed together. The thought makes you nervous, knowing that you packed accordingly, especially knowing he will be so close. Yoga pants and an oversized shirt to sleep in, to make sure he doesn’t see what you always try to hide.

The door opens and he’s carrying two big brown bags, placing them into the backseat.

“I got you two different kinds of bug repellent,” Steve tells you, holding them up for you to see. “I saw the look in your eye and I figured you left something at home.”

“Extra strength?” you tease. “You’re too good to me.”

When he gets in the car, he squeezes your hand, gently enough for you to know he wants you to be happy.

“I know you this isn’t the beach you are used to and I promise, we’ll do that. I just figured a little time away would help. You’ve been working so hard, sweetheart. I’m glad you’re able to take a little break. We’ll have fun,” he promises you, bringing your hand up to his mouth to kiss it softly. “Trust me.”

The cabin overlooks the lake, Steve refusing your help to unpack the groceries as he herds you over to the couch.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing. I got it. I’ll bring you a drink in a little bit,” he tells you, disappearing around the corner as you hear the fridge open and close. You lean back onto the couch, closing your eyes for a moment. It is peaceful, you’ll give him that. No sounds of traffic or people talking loudly. You can feel yourself relaxing as your shoulders lower.

You feel Steve in front you when you open your eyes, offering you a drink with a coaster underneath it.

“I’d sip it slowly,” Steve warns you, eyeing you as you bring the glass to your lips. “There’s a little -”

You sputter and cough, covering your mouth as it burns going down your throat.

“… Asgardian liquor in it,” he finishes with a smile. “Just a small bit but it packs a punch.”

You nod at his warning, clearing your throat as you set it down on the table to let the ice cubes melt a little, even if you aren’t sure that it will help.

You take your drink with you into the bedroom, stopping at the massive bed in front of you. The ice clinks in the glass as you take a longer sip, the liquor burning down your throat. Steve’s spent the night before, you tell yourself, unsure of why you’re suddenly nervous.

After another sip, you place the coaster and the glass on the dresser, unpacking your toiletries as you hear Steve rummaging around for something in the closet. The liquor makes you warm already, unbuttoning the second button on your shirt while you step out of the bathroom.

“Wanna go for a swim?” Steve asks, heading into the room while you freeze for a moment.

“I didn’t pack a swimsuit,” you admit. “I don’t even own one.”

“Really? We could have gotten you one before we got here. It’s alright, just figured since it was warm that maybe you wanted to go swimming.”

“I don’t swim,” you say with a shake of your head, thinking back of all of the times you tried on different swimsuits, the way you hated how you looked and what it showed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. It’s a little warm for a hike, is all so I’m trying to think of an alternative. You feeling okay?”

“The liquor,” you answer with a sheepish smile. “It’s strong.”

Steve laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Are you hungry? It’s getting dark so I’d say fishing is out of the question but I can make us an early dinner.”

“I was going to take a shower. Dinner sounds great.”

“I’ll get dinner started and I’ll have a glass of wine waiting for you when you get out.”

Stepping out of the shower and wrapping the towel around you, you let out a slow breath, your toes sinking into the soft bathroom mat as you stare at yourself in the mirror. When you’re alone, you know they are there, the marks etched into your hips and down your thighs and right below your lower back.

When the bad thoughts wash over you, you want to speak them into existence, your lips trembling with the thought. You’ve been so good with treating yourself kindly and you don’t want to go back to how you used to be, when you would say the words to yourself that you wouldn’t even say to your best friend.

Your fingers trail down your hip, tightening the skin to see the marks slightly disappear. You’ve tried everything. Body oils, skin creams and even exfoliation and nothing works, at least not for you. You can’t imagine Steve running his hands over your body.

Not when it looks like this.

“Ugly,” you seethe, tears welling in your eyes.

You’ve broken your promise to yourself to treat yourself with kindness and you wipe away the tears, drying off quickly as you apply your lotion and pull on your clothes. It feels better to conceal it, under the leggings and oversized shirt, as opposed to the shorts and shirt set you’d bought at on whim when your confidence was higher.

When you open the door, Steve is waiting, a glass of wine in his hand as he examines your face.

“What’s the matter?”

You know you should keep it together. You’re stronger than this, you tell yourself. But the way he asks the question, blue eyes filled with concern as he places the glass down and places his hands on your arms, rubbing them gently to soothe you.

“N-Nothing,” you answer, blinking back tears. “Bad thoughts again.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” you whisper, looking down. “Maybe later.”

Steve nods understandingly, like he always does because he’s perfect in that sort of way before he looks over his shoulder at the table.

“What about dinner? Are you still hungry?”

When you nod, he breathes a sigh of slight relief, pulling out your chair as you sit.

Grilled chicken and sundried tomato pasta waits for you, your mouth watering at the scent. It’s one of Steve’s favorite hobbies when he’s not away – he and Bucky randomly started watching the Food Network and started to have their own challenges – and you were able to eat the fruits of his labor.

At the first bite, you savor it, aware of how Steve is careful to avoid the topic of your tears. The conversation flows to what he’s planned out, waiting for you to decide if it’s a good idea or a bad one. He’s so thoughtful with what he’s decided that you find yourself excited for a hike and a visit to a brewery that is at the end of a trail. You’re excited to explore with Steve by your side most of all.

After dinner, you both wash the dishes together, Steve washing while you dry, ever so often sneaking a kiss that makes you laugh.

Dessert is making s’mores near the dock, Steve watching your features as the fire in the fit grows.

“Relaxed?” he asks you, handing you a plate with the gooey marshmallow and chocolate concoction.

“Very,” you answer, taking a small bite as you hum in pleasure at the taste. “This is heaven.”

You hear him laugh as you eat, mind off of your thoughts from earlier. For now, it’s just the sound of the cicadas and the breeze. A far cry from your apartment and you’re grateful for these moments. Even more so, grateful for Steve.

By the time you get inside, your shirt smells smoky and you wrinkle your nose at the scent, pawing through your bag while Steve changes his shirt. It’s effortless for him, your eyes scanning down his perfect body as you feel a wave of sadness. You wish you could do the same but you head into the bathroom to change, yanking up your leggings to cover your marks before you let the shirt fall back down.

When you crawl into bed, you fit perfectly into Steve’s arms, snuggling against his chest.

“Thank you,” you begin, letting out a soft sigh. “I needed this.”

“I’m glad,” Steve murmurs against your lips before he kisses you softly. “You were long overdue for a break. I wish we could stay longer.”

“Me too.”

When you kiss him back, the little boost of courage in the back of your head tells you to keep going as Steve’s grip on you tightens slightly as he lowers you gently onto the bed. His hand grazes down your ribs and at the hem of your shirt when you break the kiss.

“Wait,” you squeak, putting your hand over his as he stops, jerking your body toward him. “Can you turn the light off?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” Steve answers, letting you go as he gets up to turn it off. “Everything okay?”

You realize how jumpy you were and you try to answer.

“I don’t like the lights on,” you admit, feeling the dip in the bed as he returns. “I’m sorry.”

He smiles at you and you want to tell him the truth. That you can’t fathom how he would handle seeing your body.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he reminds you gently. “Whatever helps make you comfortable, I’ll do it.”

But you know your response to him and what that means as he keeps his distance, wanting to respect you and your boundaries.

You turn on your side, hot tears spilling down your cheeks, your fingers pulling down the hem of your shirt to make sure it doesn’t ride up. At your soft sniffle, you hear him call your name and you lift your head.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” you begin, your voice wavering. “I didn’t want you to see.”

“See what?”

“My-my marks,” you admit, curling into a ball as you hear him sit up.

“What marks? Sweetheart, talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I have,” you gulp, closing your eyes as shame washes over you. “Stretch marks. They’re ugly, Steve. I don’t wear a lot of things because of them. They are all over and I hate them and there’s nothing I can do but stare at them and wish they would go away.”

It’s out in the open now, your sighs shuddering with every breath. Now he knows the truth and you wait for his response.

“Stretch marks,” Steve repeats quietly. “I think you’re perfect.”

“You haven’t seen them,” you hiccup. “Trust me, they’re not cute.”

“I know two things,” Steve says, settling down against you, his warmth soothing you. “One, it’s a natural reaction. The body’s way of taking care of you. It means your body is doing its job. No one has a perfect body.”

“You do,” you sniffle.

“I don’t and I wasn’t always in this bigger body. I still have some scars, they’re just faded because of the serum but they’re there. It means we are living, sweetheart. Those marks don’t make you. They are there because you are a beautiful, living breathing human being with a heart of gold, a beautiful smile and you have a body that I love because it belongs to you,” Steve praises against your ear, holding you close. “Second, I know that there is nothing more important to me than you feeling comfortable in your skin. If I have to remind you every single day for the rest of my life that you’re perfect to me then I’ll do that because you mean the world to me. But you have to see it. I’ll just be your cheerleader over here, hoping you see yourself the way I do.”

His hand is on your hip and you grab it, pulling it up under your shirt as you place it near your side.

“Do you feel them?”

The pads of his fingers ghost over your skin.

“I just feel an amazing woman that I can’t get enough of.”

The acceptance of what you know he can feel and what you know to be true from his words makes you smile slowly. You and your body have been on a journey and you know that it’s time to be kind to yourself. These marks are a part of you, telling a story without words and you know that none of them are the same.

Uniquely shaped and nothing to be ashamed of.

“Promise?” you ask, cuddling against his solid chest.

“I promise.”

#tw: negative self talk #tw: body negativity #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #dibspositivitychallenge

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captainapple · 4 years ago

Text

Once in a While

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale X Chubby! Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: implied smut, cursing, TW! body insecurities (chubby), explicit language

Summary: You have to deal with your insecurities and Ransom's family.

A/N: Some of the details were based on my own experience during battling with my insecurities and this is a part of my healing as well. Thank you for the challenge!

An input for @gotnofucks body positivity challenge.

18+ Minors DNI. Please read warning before you continue.

“What’s that disgusting thing?” He just came home and went straight to the kitchen, finding you and your salad. “As far as I remember, we still have frozen pizza on the fridge.”

“It’s called salad, Ransom.” You rolled your eyes looking at his smug grin after munching buttery cookies. “Want some?”

“Nah. Let’s eat outside. There’s new Mexican restaurant only blocks away.”

You would smack his head hard if you were not too tired today. How he could be so inconsiderate? At this point he should have known that you were trying to eat healthier. You were close to your wedding day after all.

“No one eat salad without purpose”, you slammed your fork hard, “incase your short circuit brain couldn’t process what you saw.”

The rustling of the cookie bag stopped. His hand still stuck inside as he stopped grabbing for another cookie. He stayed still for a while. You were worried, have you gone too far by slamming the fork. You did not mean to get so mad, but the hunger messed your emotions. It felt like everything annoyed you since you started this diet, even the sound of Ransom’s breath last night.

He breathed deep and exhaled loudly. His jaw tensed for a second. He put down the bag of cookies and walked away from the kitchen without a word. You knew he needed to calm himself down before he called you. The salad was awful, and it got more awful as your guilt washed over you. The fork incident was not necessary. It all led you to this tense situation. Tossing the rest of the salad to the garbage, you decided to apologize to him.

“Baby, I’m sorry”, you opened the bedroom door slowly. “I didn’t mean to be that harsh on you.”

Ransom was quiet. He looked at the window, his hands were crossed at his back. It was dark outside; you knew he was looking at you through the reflection. Tears started gathering in your eyes as your vision got blurred. You tried to hold it as much as you could, but the tears kept reappearing.

“Baby –“

“Do you know why I’m mad?”

His deep voice echoed in the room. He turned quickly and stormed toward you. He pushed you to the nearest wall and caged you with his arm. You looked at the floor, not dare to look at his piercing blue eyes.

“Why would you eat that shit?” His voice was between irritate and sad.

“I’m just trying to lose few pounds. Linda said it would be great if I did it before our wedding.”

He muttered curse under his breath. “Look at me.” Your gaze immediately focused on his eyes. “Since when you care about what that old lady said?”

“But she’s right, you know. This roll isn’t a good look. It will ruin the dress.”

“Fuck that! You are perfect, baby!”

He kissed you before you could object. When you both gasped for air, you mouthed ‘but’. He kissed you again, never letting a single objection came out from your mouth. His tongue started looking for yours and yours gladly found his. The kiss was sloppy and harsh, both of you did not mind. Once he bit your lower lips, a moan escaped your mouth.

“Now”, he whispered between kisses along your neck, “let me show you how perfect you are.”

His hand travelled to the hem of your t-shirt while your hands pulled his sweaters out from him. The clothes quickly scattered around the floor as you both moved toward the bed. His eyes filled with hunger and lust as he scanned your naked body before he went on top of you. That night, he worshipped every inch of your body. He did not miss every curves as he trailed kisses all over your body.

The wedding day was supposed to be a good day for you. But again, his family had to ruin the mood by throwing comments here and there about your look. It was whisper or small talk among them, but you knew for sure what they were talking about. Their judging gaze never left since you walked down the aisle until your first dance with Ransom. You managed to ignore them because Ransom was there with you. His tears on the altar, his praises during the ceremony, and his touch on your curves became your strength throughout the day. But now, he was away for a while, talking to his great grandmother. You, left with no choice, mingled with the rest of his family. You chose to sit next to Meg, the only member of the family that did not give a damn about anything.

“I know right, bright color makes her look bigger.”

“Maybe you can introduce her to your friend. He owns a gym, right?”

“Well, I am as surprise as yours. She looks nothing like his exes.”

Those whispers got louder in your ears. They talked as if you were not there. You wished you had alcohol to clear your mind, but you did not want to get drunk on your special day. Rolling your eyes up, you tried not to ruin your mascara and pretend that you did not hear them.

“I’m sorry about them.” Meg broke the silence between the two of you.

“It’s okay.” You forced a smile. “I get used to it.”

Meg stood from the chair and excused herself as her phone rang. You nodded. Now, you were alone in this torturous night. It was supposed to be your happy day. You were very confident this morning. Their comments were just shattering your confidence little by little. Now you just want to go home and torn this dress away.

“C’mere, Mrs. Drysdale”, Ransom offered his hand. “I need to do something.”

The name was bringing a slight smile on your face. You gladly took his hand since you were finally with him again. He hugged you tight and let go because he needed to kiss you.

“Let’s go”, he put his hand around your waist and dragged you closer to him.

“Wait”, you giggled as you wiped your lipstick stained around his mouth. “Where to?”

He did not reply and dragged you to go with him. You followed him. Slowly both of you approached his family at the table. Your heart was racing. What was he going to do? You did not really enjoy hanging around his family that much.

“She is my wife and it’s my job to make her happy. She is perfect and nothing should be changed about her. Now, one more shitty comment came out from either one of you, I won’t hesitate to smack that ugly mouth out of your fucking face.”

“Hey! Watch your language!”, Joni shouted. “We just concerned about her… umm weight.”

“Well, I don’t need concern from a skinny ass like yours”, you snapped.

“That’s my wife!”, Ransom smiled proudly at you.

Everyone was loudly shouting at you and Ransom. He invited your hand and your arm gladly accepted his. He threw his usual remark ‘eat shit’ before leaving them. Both of you went to his car and drove away from the venue.

“That was quite a wedding”, you exhaled.

“How do you feel?”, he raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry I left you alone. Meg told me that you were upset – “

“Ransom,” you cut him, “I’m fine. In fact, it actually felt great. Is this how you feel every time you become an a-hole?”

He chuckled. “Yes, baby. It feels nice, doesn’t it?”

“Well, it is nice to be an a-hole once in a while.”

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