Lord Have Merthy - Tumblr Posts

can i ask laughing stock to the prom (/j but not really /j they deserve it)

IT'D BE A TEST TO SEE WHICH ONE DIES INTERNALLY FIRST

Pathetic (M)

(I did not edit this picture. Weverse literally just dropped it and I’m so lazy)

Title: Pathetic

Summary:

When your best friend Jeongyeon drags you to a frat party, you aren’t expecting much. Certainly not to be fucked dumb by notorious man whore Yoon Jeonghan, but hey, what happens at a frat party, stays at a frat party.

Simplified tags: 6k words, Porn with Plot, frat boy!Jeonghan, college student!y/n, best friend!Jeongyeon, soft!dom to hard!dom Jeonghan, mean!Jeonghan (and y/n loves it), submissive!y/n, female!y/n (sorry gender-neutral friends), heavy degradation, light masochist!y/n, sadist!Jeonghan, mild pain kink, vaginal fingering, creampie, spitting, slapping, big dick!Jeonghan, blowjob, mentions of aftercare but I don’t write it happening he just says what he’ll do

Warnings: This fic is filthy, dub con (I personally think that the consent is explicit enough but I’m tagging it this way just to be careful since it is intense), Jeonghan is a fiend. There is spitting, a creampie, degredation, like Jeonghan calls you pathetic. You thank him for him treating you like trash. There is after care but there is also light slapping, I’m serious this is literally the filthiest thing I have ever written. I’m embarrassed to have written it, and I hope that the five people who like things like this enjoy it. Jeonghan starts off as a soft!dom, but quickly turns to a hard!dom

I have this… secret blog that I wrote one story on cause I was embarrassed by it and didn’t want it to be on this blog and on that blog I asked if anyone wanted this kind of fic and I had like twelve people like the post so here we go.

-

“Really Jeonghan? Another fling that you just dropped for no reason?” Seungcheol asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Jeonghan hummed as he placed another lego block together, glancing over at the instructions for the house that he was building.

“Just not a good fit.”

Keep reading

For you consideration:

Both are pretty beefy and tall.

Both could rip people basically in half.

Both are helmeted badass.

But... Consider this:

A tall skinny assassin.

May not be able to rip someone barehanded in half, but could kill them most likely. With any. Weapon/object given.

Has a fucking sword/katana that can cut through metal walls, and shields.

Their helmet fucking projects emotes. Need I say more?

Their a badass flexible assassin. Plus their super damn tall.

Just though people should know... well mainly know that Zer0 is taller than even Doomguy, and Master Chief. Alright have a nice day!

not to be dramatic, but I would DIE for chubby!bucky

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 pan 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.

I am a women with simple wants

BARRY KEOGHAN as DRUIG Eternals (2021) dir. Chloé Zhao