mdni. this blog is an inclusive and sex-positive space. kink & bdsm are discussed without shame. all of my work will be tagged accordingly. please proceed with caution if any topics are triggering to your reading sensitivities. my kinks & interests do not reflect my actual worldviews. follow along & play pretend with me, or block me. you are responsible for what you read!!!
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my heart rate kicked up reading this ohlord. you’ve been rooting around in my head, haven’t you? thank you so much for your ask!! wrote this one handed…
your back is to karen’s chest, her hands palming at your breasts as she places soft kisses to your neck. frank is situated between your legs, large hands keeping you held open for him as he licks against you.
you moan and squirm, face turning to hide in karen’s neck. she coos softly, fingers petting through your hair. “doing so well for us, baby. you like how he touches you?” she murmurs.
you whine in response, hips bucking as frank sucks against your clit. “think she does.” he mumbles, hardly disconnecting from your weeping pussy to speak. the vibration of his voice has you sighing into karen’s neck, hands sliding through frank’s hair.
you manage to pull yourself out of karen’s neck to look down at frank, who seems absolutely lost in between your legs. he glances up and catches your gaze, lips curling into a smile as he presses his tongue flat against you. “tell him how you feel, honey. he wants to hear you.” karen murmurs against your ear. “we both do”
“feels so so good, frank.” you moan, not missing the way his hips jerk against the mattress. his eyes slip closed and he groans, fingers tightening their hold around you. karen smiles and brings a hand up to cradle your face, turning you enough so she can connect her lips to yours. the kiss starts slow, soft as she slides her tongue over your bottom lip. you grant her access immediately and she makes a pleased sound as her thumb smooths across your cheek.
you feel the vibration of frank’s groan and you know he’s watching the two of you. karen doesn’t give you much time to think about him before she’s pinching your nipple with her free hand, smiling against your lips as your gasp. the heat pooling in your stomach has you twitching in their grasp, both sets of hands touching and making you dizzy.
it’s nearly enough to break you when frank slips two fingers inside, facing no resistance as your cunt drools for him. you choke on a moan that karen quickly swallows, moving her hand to rest softly against your neck. the feeling of her fingers against your pulse and frank’s plunging inside of you has you whining, chasing the feeling as your orgasm builds.
your voice is a broken warble of their names, unable to think straight as pleasure surges through you. “gonna cum!” is all you manage to say before you’re gushing around frank’s fingers, legs shaking and hand moving to grasp his shoulders, nails digging into the skin. frank openly moans against you, working you through your orgasm as karen kisses along your jaw.
“did so well for us, sweetheart. such a good girl.” she murmurs, fingers brushing across your face as you gaze at her dazed. frank slowly kisses his way up your thighs, lifting himself enough to press his lips to yours. you moan weakly, tasting yourself on his tongue as he slips it into your mouth.
he’s smiling against you before sliding a hand back between your legs, eyes glinting at the way your hips buck into him despite the sensitivity that’s overtaken you.
divinity kink in less of a "fuck me in a nun habit" way and more of a "put me on my knees and rewrite my understanding of faith and show me what a loving god's hand feels like and give me mercy and wrath and splendor and leave your communion dripping from my lips and teach me how every part of my body was meant to worship you"
if i was president of the internet i would require all binary people to write a 3 page gender studies essay before i can issue their license to call that nonbinary character a lesbian or refer to their ships as yuri. you gotta prove youre not just shoving them into the girl-lite box, chief. you gotta earn it. thems the rules.
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stepbro wade gives me the vibes he’d break your bed while doing the nasty, and you’d both have to go to dex (possibly while wade is still bricked up) and be like this 🧍♀️🧍
he so would..
"w— wade! i seriously don’t think- that sound is normal," you giggle in between moans, tugging on wade’s hair as he keeps you pressed into the bed and it doesn’t seem like hes slowing down anytime soon..
"it’s fineee—" he drawls with a small hum,
and as if on cue you both heard a small crack from the bedframe, wade pausing his movements as both of your faces flush red. "not fine. it’s uh, not fine." his face a bit stunned before theres a smug and proud grin,
"but now, that is an achievement— OW." his words cut short as he pulls out of you when you swat him on the chest, pulling your clothes on. "well that wasn’t very kind-"
"put your clothes on, idiot. i’m gonna uh, try explain this to dex.."
the two of you ending up standing infront of a very irritated dex. his arms crossed as wade hovers behind you.. tryna block his obvious hard-on, this situation was awkward enough!
"you two.. broke.. the bedframe?"
"…yeah." wade chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
"doing what."
the two of you silent for a moment as you stiffen up — unsure what to say until wade answers:
victoria has always called cassie mommy, a shy little whisper that always got cassie heated up—muffling her croons on victoria’s neck as she pumps her fingers inside her in a bruising pace. it was so debauched and tantalizing, and cassie always comes out of it licking the back of her teeth, tongue rolling between their ridges as to not waste any of victoria’s sweetness. so it was a delight, altogether, when victoria slips up; says something new, calls cassie something entirely uncharted.
“daddy!” she squeals, hands blindly clutching at the bed sheets, her hips jolting at the intensity of her pleasure.
it makes cassie pause, and she feels delirious at the rising thrill that is engulfing her. she pulls up from between victoria’s legs, maw damp and flushed, before climbing up to mount her sweet girl with a grin that is too wide and too mean.
“baby, what did you call me?” her voice is deep, grave, a tinge of danger rousing from her throat. victoria feels unsteady, her head still filled with static, and her chest heaving as she catches her breath.
cassie curls her palm on victoria’s jaw, thumb swiping just underneath her weeping eye. “c’mon, baby, m’asking you something.”
“cass- mommy, i—”
“no, baby,” cassie tuts. “that’s not what you called me.”
victoria hiccups, tears beading in the corners of her eyes, and feeling her pussy fluttering at the intensity of it all—cassie’s words, her prodding, and, most of all, victoria’s own twisted hunger.
“daddy,” she murmurs, shame rousing from her fingertips up to her temple. she ducks her gaze down, avoiding cassie’s eyes, avoiding what she knows would be cassie’s disgust, but cassie—
something rumbles from her chest. something so thick with pride and want, and victoria wrenches her gaze back up, watching with wide eyes as a flush fills cassie’s face. victoria tries for any words, to ask if this is—if they are—okay, but they all erode at the frantic way that cassie presses her knee on victoria’s wet cunt, rutting it against the sensitive thing.
victoria keens, hands coming up to grip at cassie, but cassie pushes on, still dazed, and made even more needy.
“again,” cassie begs, a broken thing, before ducking down to map feverish kisses along victoria’s neck. “say it again for me, baby.”
the request makes victoria breathe in sharply, and her chest rattles at the rawness of their mutual hunger. she shapes the word in her mouth, and it forms so easily, with such familiarity, like victoria was always meant to say it. a destiny of sorts; a fulfillment of a promise that is beyond her.
“daddy.”
cassie’s chest rumbles once more, so needy like it was the first time that her thirst had been quenched.
“again.”
victoria’s cheeks tingle, but the shame now peters away to make room for her own burning desire.
“daddy. my daddy.”
cassie nips at victoria’s jugular, playful, and ruts closer to her. amidst victoria’s startled gasp, she whispers, “s’right, sweet girl. m’your daddy.”
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free use is kind of a funny kink bc it relies on the idea that everybody wants to touch you and have sex with you but what if they don't. what if you tell everybody at the party you're free use but they all ignore you and mind their own business
A free-range group therapy called "get herded, idiot", where you and everyone in your group is set loose to run around on an open field while a highly trained shepherd dog tries to keep you all in one group. I am not sure what benefit this would have for anyone involved.
Physical and emotional release, communal bonding, Cute Doggos, mentally and physically challenging tasks, I don’t really see anything that glaringly WOULDN’T work.
twenty-three years on, and we still don't know what the concept artists for the Daredevil movie were trying to say with that design or at least what kinda drug cocktail they were on to come up with it. anyway-
twenty-three years on, and we still don't know what the concept artists for the Daredevil movie were trying to say with that design or at least what kinda drug cocktail they were on to come up with it. anyway-
Could you write something smutty about the reader being such a brat and not listening to Bucky so he says something along the lines of ”Get your tits out, I want to jerk off”
The apartment door slammed shut behind Bucky with enough force to rattle the framed photos on the wall. He’d been gone for three days on a recon mission that turned into a shitshow, and all he wanted was a hot shower and his girl. Instead, he found you sprawled on the couch in one of his old henleys and nothing else, legs kicked up, scrolling your phone like you hadn’t been ignoring his texts all afternoon.
“Missed you too, doll,” he said, voice low and edged with exhaustion.
You glanced up, lips curving into that mischievous smirk he both loved and wanted to wipe off your face. “Took you long enough. I was starting to think you liked playing soldier more than playing with me.”
Bucky dropped his duffel, shrugging off his jacket. “I told you I’d be home by eight. It’s nine-thirty. You could’ve at least answered one message.”
You shrugged, stretching so the hem of his shirt rode up your thighs. “Maybe I was busy. Or maybe I just like making you work for it.”
There it was. That bratty tone. The one that always tested how long his patience would last. He crossed the room in three strides, looming over the couch. His metal fingers flexed at his sides. “You’ve been pushing it all week, sweetheart. Ignoring me. Teasing me with pictures you know I can’t open in the field. Now you’re gonna act like I’m the one who’s late?”
You sat up slowly, eyes sparkling with challenge. “What are you gonna do about it, Buck? Spank me? Tie me up? You always say that and then fold when I bat my lashes.”
He stared down at you, jaw tight. The serum made him strong, but nothing tested his control like you in full brat mode. “Keep running that mouth and you’ll find out.”
Instead of backing down, you leaned forward, letting the neckline of the henley dip low enough to show the soft swell of your breasts. “Promises, promises.”
Bucky’s hand shot out, catching your chin. Not hard, but firm enough to tilt your face up. “Bedroom. Now.”
You giggled and slipped past him, hips swaying with deliberate insolence. He followed, already half-hard from the sight of you. By the time he closed the bedroom door, you were perched on the edge of the bed, knees together, looking far too innocent for someone who’d spent the last hour driving him insane.
“Strip,” he ordered.
You tilted your head. “Make me.”
He stepped closer, towering over you. “Don’t test me tonight, doll. I’m not in the mood for games.”
But you were. You tugged the hem of the shirt up just enough to flash your panties, then let it fall again. “Too bad. I am.”
Bucky exhaled sharply through his nose. He reached down and yanked the henley over your head in one swift motion, leaving you bare from the waist up. Your nipples tightened instantly in the cool air. You made a show of crossing your arms over your chest anyway, pouting up at him.
“Brat,” he muttered. His flesh hand cupped your jaw again while the metal one trailed down your sternum, stopping just above where you were covering yourself. “You love pushing me until I snap, don’t you?”
“Maybe I just like what happens when you do.”
He studied you for a long moment, something dark and hungry flickering in his blue eyes. Then he straightened up, unbuckling his belt with deliberate slowness. “Get your tits out. I want to jerk off.”
The words hung in the air, blunt and filthy. Your eyes widened, a flush creeping up your neck, but you didn’t move right away. The brat in you wanted to push one more time.
Bucky arched a brow. “Now, sweetheart. Or I’ll do it myself and you can watch without touching.”
That got you. You uncrossed your arms slowly, letting your breasts spill free. They were perfect—soft, full, nipples already pebbled and begging for attention. You cupped them lightly, pushing them together just to taunt him.
“Better?” you asked sweetly.
“On your knees.”
You slid off the bed, sinking down in front of him. Bucky freed his cock, already thick and heavy, the tip glistening. He wrapped his metal hand around the base and gave himself one slow stroke while his flesh hand tangled in your hair.
“Look at you,” he growled. “Acting like you run the show until I tell you exactly what I want. Keep those pretty tits right there.”
He pumped his fist over his length, eyes locked on your chest. The wet sound of skin on skin filled the room. You shifted on your knees, thighs pressing together, heat pooling between them. Watching him like this, using you as his personal visual, made you ache.
“Touch them,” he commanded. “Play with your tits while I get off.”
You obeyed this time, rolling the sensitive buds between your fingers, pinching just hard enough to make yourself gasp. Bucky’s grip in your hair tightened.
“Fuck, that’s it. Look so good like this. My bratty little girl on her knees, tits out, letting me jerk off all over them if I want.”
His strokes grew faster, rougher. Pre-cum beaded at the tip and he smeared it down his shaft. You leaned forward instinctively, tongue darting out, but he tugged you back by the hair.
“Not yet. You don’t get to taste until you’ve learned to listen.”
You whined, but kept playing with your breasts, squeezing them together, arching your back to present them better. The power shift was intoxicating. One minute you were defying him, the next you were dripping and desperate just from his words and the sight of his hand working that gorgeous cock.
Bucky’s breathing grew ragged. “You gonna behave now? Or do I need to edge myself while you sit there aching?”
“I’ll behave,” you breathed, voice husky. “Please, Buck…”
He smirked, the first real one since he walked in. “Good girl. Finally.”
He let go of your hair and stepped closer, rubbing the slick head of his cock against one nipple, then the other. The sensation made you moan. Then he was stroking again, faster, using your tits as his target.
“Come on them,” you whispered, looking up at him with wide, needy eyes. “I want it.”
That did it. Bucky groaned deep in his chest, muscles tensing as he came hard. Thick ropes of cum painted your breasts, dripping down the curves, catching on your nipples. He milked every drop, breathing hard.
For a moment, the only sound was your mingled breathing. Then he hauled you up, kissing you fiercely, not caring about the mess between you. His hands roamed down your body, shoving your panties aside to find you soaked.
“Bed,” he rasped against your mouth. “We’re not done. You’ve got a lot of making up to do.”
You laughed breathlessly as he tossed you onto the mattress. “Yes, Sergeant.”
He climbed over you, metal arm bracing beside your head while his flesh hand spread your thighs. “Keep calling me that and I might let you come more than once tonight.”
What followed was a blur of heat and surrender. Bucky ate you out like a man starved, tongue and fingers working you until you were shaking, then flipped you over and fucked you deep and slow from behind. Every thrust pushed your cum-smeared tits into the sheets. He pulled your hair, smacked your ass when you tried to rush him, and whispered filthy praise in your ear.
“You love being my brat, don’t you? Love making me take control.”
“Yes—fuck—yes, Bucky!”
He came again inside you this time, holding you tight as you clenched around him. Afterward, he cleaned you up gently with a warm cloth, pulling you against his chest.
“Next time you wanna brat out,” he murmured, kissing your temple, “just say so. I’ll remind you who’s in charge quicker.”
You smiled sleepily, tracing the scars where metal met skin. “Where’s the fun in that?”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. “God help me, I love you, doll.”
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i love the linguistic trend of expressing something difficult to describe by just not including an adjective where there usually would be one. “i had a day today,” or “he’s definitely one of the characters of all time.”
it’s like i can’t describe this so i just won’t. you get it tho.
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