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Prompt Meme: NSFW Prompts
General Rules:
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2. No kink shaming. People like what they like.
Requesting Rules:
1. Submit a prompt here for nsfw fics. You can do this on or off anon.
2. Please include the characters or pairings you want to see in the subject header, as well as a kink or situation.
Example: Pythia/Exael; college roommate AU
3. In the body of the post, you can go more into what you want from the fill, but try to give the writer some wiggle room.
Example: I’d love it if this fic could be fluffy and cute. Bonus points if Exael asks Pythia on a date to the ice-skating rink during the winter holidays!
4. One request per submission, please! If you have more than one request, post them separately.
5. Try to warn for any potentially triggering content.
6. Don’t forget to fill out requests, too!
Filling Rules:
1. Please reply directly to the request with your fill. Fics and art are both okay!
2. Please include the word Fill and the title of your fill in the subject header of the reply. If the fill is multiple parts, indicated the part number.
Example: Fill: And They Were Roommates (1/3)
3. Please warn for any potential triggering content.
4. Try to make sure you’re giving the requester what they wanted. If someone asks for arranged marriage, don’t spring vore on them without warning, and vice versa.
5. If you have a great idea that you really want to run with, but it includes other kinks or situations that were unasked for, you can reply to the person who requested and ask if that’s okay before you start writing.
6. When you’re finished filling, please consider submitting your fic as fanmail to the involved characters!
1. Don’t be a dick.
2. No kink shaming. People like what they like.
Requesting Rules:
1. Submit a prompt here for nsfw fics. You can do this on or off anon.
2. Please include the characters or pairings you want to see in the subject header, as well as a kink or situation.
Example: Pythia/Exael; college roommate AU
3. In the body of the post, you can go more into what you want from the fill, but try to give the writer some wiggle room.
Example: I’d love it if this fic could be fluffy and cute. Bonus points if Exael asks Pythia on a date to the ice-skating rink during the winter holidays!
4. One request per submission, please! If you have more than one request, post them separately.
5. Try to warn for any potentially triggering content.
6. Don’t forget to fill out requests, too!
Filling Rules:
1. Please reply directly to the request with your fill. Fics and art are both okay!
2. Please include the word Fill and the title of your fill in the subject header of the reply. If the fill is multiple parts, indicated the part number.
Example: Fill: And They Were Roommates (1/3)
3. Please warn for any potential triggering content.
4. Try to make sure you’re giving the requester what they wanted. If someone asks for arranged marriage, don’t spring vore on them without warning, and vice versa.
5. If you have a great idea that you really want to run with, but it includes other kinks or situations that were unasked for, you can reply to the person who requested and ask if that’s okay before you start writing.
6. When you’re finished filling, please consider submitting your fic as fanmail to the involved characters!
Nemesis/Hurricane, petplay
(Anonymous) 2019-08-14 04:25 am (UTC)(link)++ collars and leashes
+++ petting and tummy rubs
+++++ kemonomimi potions
+++++++ hand feeding
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Hurricane is a very good boy
Re: Fill: A Very Good Boy (1/1)
(Anonymous) 2019-08-21 05:22 pm (UTC)(link)Fill: A Very Good Boy (1/1)
(Anonymous) 2019-08-29 05:22 pm (UTC)(link)It's the only time he sits still; outside of this room, he's in constant motion, days an endless flurry of activity. He just doesn't slow down. Nemesis doesn't think he knows how.
But here, on the floor at her feet, he does it just because she says so.
Nemesis glances up from her phone, over to where Hurricane's waiting in the corner. He's still in the pose she left him in, even though it's been nearly ten minutes.
He's naked except for the collar around his neck, purple leather in her position color, neat and trim. The little silver tag reads "Hurricane."
His calves are bound to his thighs with straps of thick, black leather, forcing him to balance on his knees. His hands are curled into fists, wrapped generously in fabric and then forced into padded leather mitts. He can't stand like this; he can't use his hands. He can't speak, with the ball gag caught between his teeth.
On top of his head, the soft, floppy ears granted by AlcheME's potion perk toward her when he notices her looking. The feathery golden retriever tail starts to wag a little, cautious.
He's still hard. His cock is straining up against his stomach, and as she makes a show of appraising him, it gives a twitch, and a drop of precome oozes down to join the small puddle on the floor.
"How're you doing over there?" says Nemesis, casual. "You being a good boy?"
The tail wags harder. Hurricane makes a noise in his throat that comes out as a whine, given the gag.
"C'mere," says Nemesis. "Come."
She puts a hand down and beckons, like she would to a dog – enjoys the way Hurricane's face flushes a deeper red.
But he comes, tail wagging cautiously – picks his way across the floor on mitts and knees, to wait by her side.
She reaches down and scratches gently at one of the golden retriever ears, and when Hurricane presses into the hand, she relents and pets with the other hand, as well. He shivers; his eyes fall closed.
"You listened pretty good today," says Nemesis, and at the praise, his flush deepens. "You think you deserve a treat?"
Hurricane hesitates; he makes that sound again, somewhere low in his throat, like a whine.
"Yeah, well," says Nemesis. "I think you do. So hold still a sec."
She reaches down around him, to undo the strap for the gag – eases it out of his mouth. He works his jaw when it comes free, stretching the muscles, and Nemesis reaches out to rub along the curve of it with her fingertips, firm pressure.
"That feel good?"
Hurricane bobs his head, knowing better not to speak – dogs don't talk, after all – so she keeps going for another long couple of seconds. When she takes her hands back, she says, "You ready for your treat?"
She got them earlier today, just for this. They're tiny cakes, pre-packaged, perfectly bite-sized. They look like the kind of stuff you get at the discount store for cheap, but she's pretty sure Hurricane won't care. As long as it's sweet, it'll be fine by him.
She tears open the pack and holds one out to him – watches him start to lift a hand to take it, realize the mitts are in the way, and put it back down again. He goes slowly red, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.
"Go on," says Nemesis, and offers again. "Take it."
He shuffles another awkward inch or two nearer – reaches out, cautious, to take the treat between his teeth. It's careful, and delicate, and Nemesis ruins that straight out the gate by applying gentle pressure until it presses past his lips. His mouth is warm, and wet, and he has to lap a little with his tongue, to get the crumbs.
When he pulls back, he can't quite meet her eyes. "Dude," he says, voice a little shaky. "C'mon. I'm dying here."
She grins at him in answer, teasing, and fluffs his ears. "Pretty sure dogs don't talk," she tells him, just to see the way he blushes.
She runs a hand over his back, smooth and warm, fingers tracing the line of his spine. He shivers at the contact, hissing a sharp breath in through his nose. He's squirming a bit, now, trying to stay still, and she runs a hand over his flank and down to his thigh, to make it harder for him.
"I guess you been good enough for another treat," she says. "Lucky boy, you get to sleep on the bed tonight, instead of in the kennel."
She settles herself on the bed – pats the blankets beside her. "Come."
It takes him a minute. He can't hold onto anything, and the bindings on his legs make it a challenge. But he manages, with some effort, and Nemesis scratches at his ears again when he's joined her.
"There you go," she says. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
She strokes a hand along his back again, just to watch him squirm. Then she says, "Roll over."
Hurricane ducks his head. He's blushing harder than before, if that's even possible, but he lies down among the covers and rolls onto his back.
His hands are useless at his sides. His knees are bent, tied into position. His cock is harder than she thinks she's ever seen it, flat against his stomach, the tip glistening with precome.
"There's a good boy," says Nemesis, and sets both hands on his torso, palms flat. She begins to rub, over his ribs and the flat of his stomach – over his chest, catching the nipples deliberately with the pads of her fingers as she passes.
Hurricane makes a soft sound and bites at his lip, glancing away. In retaliation Nemesis lets her flesh hand drift lower, to the space between his stomach and cock. She rubs the skin there, gentle; the back of her hand nudges against his erection, as though the contact is incidental.
He whimpers and shifts – shifts again, hips lifting unconsciously in an attempt to get more friction.
She pretends not to notice, rubbing gently with both hands until she can feel him trembling beneath her palms, hips rocking helplessly into the motion.
It takes him five whole minutes to break. Nemesis is impressed; he really is a good boy.
"Nem," he gasps, breathless. "Please."
"What'd I say about dogs talking?" she asks him, idly.
He opens his mouth again – maybe to apologize – but she doesn't let him get that far. She repositions her hand so that it lies flat on top of his cock, pressing down enough that he can feel it. Then she starts to rub again, palming along the length of him but not curling her fingers to take him in hand.
Hurricane groans like he's dying. His hands reach, abortively, for the blankets, but bound as they are, there's no way for him to hold onto anything. He tips his head back and pants; sweat slicks the hair to his forehead, and the purple collar stands out against the pale skin of his throat, stark contrast.
Nemesis is pretty sure that if she grabbed hold and jerked him off in earnest, he'd be done in about three seconds flat, but she doesn't. Instead, she keeps teasing until he's bucking restlessly into her palm in a shaky rhythm.
She lifts her prosthetic hand to smooth his hair away from his face, gentle. The other hones in on the tip of his cock and makes small circles there with her palm.
Hurricane shudders and shifts; he turns in toward the hand in his hair, and she lets it drift down, tracing the line of his cheekbone and then his jaw.
Nemesis leans in to speak into his ear, low and soft. Her hand smooths across the line of his cock, root to tip, before lifting up and beginning again, like she's petting a dog. "Go on," she says, so near that her lips brush the shell of his ear. "You been good."
His face goes hot again, red and mortified. He ducks his head to bury it against her shoulder, hiding his expression.
But he comes, with a drawn-out whimper, cock pulsing under her hand and come spattering across his chest and abdomen.
She pets him through it, until he shifts a little, oversensitive, and she takes her hand away again.
Nemesis flops down on the bed next to him. He's warm and solid at her side, chest still heaving as he tries to catch his breath.
"How you doing?" she says. "You good?"
Hurricane nods, kind of shaky. "Yeah. Uh." He licks at his lips. "Yeah."
She watches him, in profile: the parted lips, and the flushed cheeks dotted with freckles, and the disheveled hair. The surge of affection that washes over her is as strong as the wave of want when she realizes, belatedly, that she's still dressed after all that.
"Like, keep going good?" says Nemesis. She nudges at him, quirking a smile. "Cause I was kinda thinking we could do the peanut butter thing."
Hurricane huffs a startled laugh. He turns toward her, a grin starting to spread across his face. It's crooked and warm and honestly kind of goofy. "Totally keep going good," he says. "Bring it, dude."
Nemesis leans in to kiss him, then, long and slow and full of heat. When she pulls back, he looks kind of dazed.
"Stay put," she tells him, and presses another quick kiss to his cheek.
Then she hops down off the bed and goes to get the peanut butter.