Measure of Beauty
Request: I saw you had requests open! Could you write either a Thor (if you don’t do him that’s ok) or a Bucky/seb x chubby or plus size reader?A/N: I’ll write any character, I just primarily get Buck/Seb or Tom Holland requests, SOOOOO let’s go with Thor.
The silence and solitude engulfing (Y/N) as she sat curled up on her couch covered in a blanket was pure agony. She hated the fact that the man who made her feel the most significant lived so far away; long distance was always something she thought she could handle until she was faced with the issue of her the man she loved ruling a completely different realm. Sure she was able to stomach the looks of lunacy she received when asked why she doesn’t date and even the occasional disbelief–she knew the truth and she knew the reality of her relationship with Thor–but what really set her off were the inconsiderate, unnecessary, degrading rumors.
(Y/N) had always been on the chubbier side as a child and rather than having support from friends or family regarding her weight, any comment she received was given with some underlying shade. There were the subtle hints: “that top looks great, but isn’t it a little tight?” The suggestions: “I’m going to the gym if you want to come!” The blatantly rude comments: “are you really going to eat all of that?” “You’ll be as big as a house!” And then, the helpful, ‘healthy’ hints: “don’t you want to look healthy?”
It had taken years for (Y/N) to even begin to feel confident in her skin and each comment just continues to bring up doubts about herself. She’d struggled in the past with binging or excessive dieting and exercise to appeal to societal standards of beauty but had eventually given up. The pain wasn’t worth conforming to society’s expectations. She knew she was healthy whether or not she was in shape. She knew she took care of herself as best as she could, if not better than the people who continued to try to live off less than a thousand calories a day, and she had gained a sense of confidence about herself and her body that she didn’t expect possible.
When Thor came along, he was exposed to this radiant, self-assured, incredible human being and had fallen for her perfection. He didn’t know the self-conscious teenager who refused to look in a mirror or the college student who put on the freshman fifteen and then tried to starve herself for months; he saw (Y/N): beautiful, happy, healthy, kind, sassy, and all together wonderful person. She had never intended to show him the other side of her: the ugly, self-pitying, wallowing mess of a person she used to be, but she had no choice.
(Y/N) tried to ignore the thoughts rushing through her head, but they demanded attention. She tried to rationalize, to tell herself all of the same calming and realistic explanation she goes through when faced with his level of self-consciousness and humiliation, but it failed. Her mind was continually brought back to the rude, uncaring, horrid people who targeted her that afternoon, teasing her about how no one could ever love her, that even ‘chubby chasers’ aren’t interested in the real thing rather just losing themselves in another layer of skin during sex. She wanted nothing more than to correct them, to tell them that she was deeply committed to a man who loved her for every part of her and who was a thousand times the man any of them could ever hope to be, but trying to explain her relationship was difficult enough when discussing it with the understanding people in her life without sounding like an idiot or a nut job.
Her desperation to save a little face lead to a continual, overly analytical evaluation of her life and her thoughts and conceptions about herself began to spiral. Was she worth it? Was there anything she could offer Thor? Why was he with her in the first place? Was their relationship based on pity? Did he ever truly care about her? As her mind flooded with more and more incriminating questions, there was a knock on her door. Hesitantly, she rose and opened the door to reveal Thor, dressed as though he were a lumberjack, glancing down at her in concern.
“Heimdal said you weren’t well, are you ill?” he quickly interrogated her as he pushed his way into her home.
“I’m fine,” she stated and closed the door behind him.
“You’ve been crying,” he observed.
“But I’m not now,” she stated, trying to sound strong and in control of her emotions.
“(Y/N),” he said softly while taking her face in his hands and pressing his lips against the top of her head. “You are a terrible liar.” She let out a sighed and swallowed hard, trying not to choke up as she attempted to speak.
“Do…do you love me?” she questioned and ducked her head to avoid eye contact.
“Yes, of course!” Thor smiled, his voice booming with pride. “Is this about me being away?” he quickly asked.
“No, it’s not that; I understand you have to be in Asgard right now, but–”
“Then what’s gotten you so upset, dove?” he asked as he ran his fingers through her hair.
“How can you love me?” she asked in an exasperated tone. “Who’s to say that I’m not replaceable with some skinnier, prettier girl?”
“(Y/N),” Thor sighed as he pulled her closer to his chest. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“Of course not,” she sighed, “because you’re too good to me and too good for me. You didn’t grow up hearing the stupid chants kids made to tease me about my weight, you don’t know about the torment other kids put on me because I was bigger because I never told you about my lifelong insecurities because you were too perfect to see them, but now I am. Why do you love me? No one else does nor can they fathom how any human could. My whole life I’ve been told I’m not worth the shit under my shoes so what makes me expect that I’m worth something to you?” Her voice was cracking through her anger at herself as Thor stood in front of her, his arms still tightly woven around (Y/N)’s body. making her feel small and helpless against his muscles.
“I’ve been examining the Earth and it’s inhabitants for ages, (Y/N) and I can tell you this about humanity: the concept of beauty changes and it’s not universal. Your dress size and measurements don’t matter to me. The contents of your heart, the values of your soul, and your genuinely good-willed nature are what really matters–not whether or not your thighs tough, if your hipbones or collarbones are visible, and certainly not if you have the flattest stomach. For me, (Y/N), you are perfect. You are the most amazing and most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on both physically and because of your character. Don’t fret any longer about any reservations regarding us. No one, large or small, could ever compare to the way you make me feel, and that is the true measure of your beauty.”