wotanon | Prompt Meme: NSFW Prompts

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!anon kink meme

Prompt Meme: NSFW Prompts

General Rules:

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!

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Any characters, AU if you want, also ok if the fill turns out to be SFW. We keep joking about this in the avante channel might as well at least make it happen here,

take any canon ship and give me some

ROUGH

AND

DIRTY ok maybe not actually dirty. sexy dirty.

That's it. Intensity being awesome at "dating" *waggles eyebrows*

BONUS: Blue eyes white dragon is somehow involved.

A threesome with B in the middle

Pythia and her underling take the former lord of lust for a spin. Power dynamics are a must; bdsm, breathplay, collars or other marks of ownership, orgasm denial, boot licking, ball-stepping, some voyeuristic or public aspect of all this...these are all bonuses or you can add your own, go wild. Most importantly, everyone involved should know Pythia is powerful enough to make Azzy believe he likes it, whether or not she does.

Seconded!!!

gold walks in on silver fucking a basketball
horrified, he offers him a better option

Shrike drinks a sex change potion and lets down her (his?) hair.

Someone (maybe someone who didn't pay her any mind before) accidentally/unexpectedly gets seduced, either by Shrike's hidden confidence OR her gentle irresistible awkwardness (or some combination of the two.)

as if written as self-insert wish fulfillment by an imeeji fan who wants to be swept off her feet. second-person like all those fics they banned from fanfiction.net back in the day.

In private, Nemesis keeps Hurricane as a pet. When he's naughty he has to sleep in the kennel, but when he's good, he gets to sleep on the bed.

++ collars and leashes
+++ petting and tummy rubs
+++++ kemonomimi potions
+++++++ hand feeding
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Hurricane is a very good boy

sekhmet decides it's time to make her girlfriends get along. she offers firm encouragement until they do what she asks, which is bang while she watches and sometimes gives instructions. shrike and kohime discover it's not that bad to make nice after all, especially after seeing how hot and bothered it makes sekhmet...

they do it in a boat

misfire or not I want it now

Gold ties B up and patiently, lovingly shows him that he doesn't mind when he's a horny boy.

Requiem and Nemesis, both in schoolgirl uniforms, get up to creatively teasing each other under the desk, during class, while the teacher's not looking.

It's inappropriate class behavior chicken: first one to tap out loses.

That's it, that's the prompt. They make actual use of the eggplant during sex.

Camellia and Q accidentally get dosed with something that makes them desperately aroused. They both attempt to seduce Pink, who is sober. When he realizes that their advances are serious, he becomes surprisingly shy and Camellia and Q guide him through it by telling him what to do.

The three of them wind up having a LOT of sex (as a threesome but sometimes with two of them while the third gets themself off while watching) and it's all very sweet and enthusiastic.

Bonus points if prim doms.
Bonus points for aftercare
More bonus points if exhibitionism plays a role somehow

Persephone shows a nervous and blushing Levi some tricks of the courtesan trade for how he might please his mistress.

He hates her.

Only, he doesn't.

Staring up at her, a vision in white, he can't remember why the thought even sprang into his mind. She's stunning. More than stunning – she's celestial. The lingerie, white leather, hugs her curves, and the garter encircles her thigh in exactly the right way to draw attention to all that bare, creamy skin. The stained glass high up on the church walls, window after arched window depicting God's glory, lets in just the right hues to flatter her.

Her legs are scarred, above her white ankle boots, but Asmodeus doesn't mind. The flaws only add to the perfection, like a chipped dish repaired with molten gold.

"Do you miss this?" says Pythia, her voice soft and sweet. "It must be nostalgic, for you."

It is, in a way. He's not a lord of lust, anymore. Long gone are the days when his his time comprised an endless parade of supple, willing bodies. In their place are sterile meetings and ugly wounds, schemes and machinations and a thousand ambitions that need tending.

Now that she brings it up, it seems to him there's something warm and inviting about being here on his knees. The leather sleeve that binds his arms behind his back embraces him like a lover, and the collar around his throat reminds him of better times. The throbbing of his cock, bound up in a thick leather ring that encircles his shaft and pulls his balls away from his body – that feels good, too.

The ache is like coming home.

"You may speak," says Pythia, generous.

"Yes," croaks Asmodeus. "I miss this."

"Oh?" says Pythia. "Why is that?"

The words elude him. He feels tongue-tied, before her. His brain has slowed to a crawl; his entire existence centers around the throbbing of his cock.

"It's because he's not getting laid as much anymore," says Exael, helpful, from where she perches on the edge of a pew. Her grin is sharp and a little crooked. Her eyes dance.

If they were anywhere but here, she wouldn't dare be so flippant. If he had her alone, she would pay for the teasing slant to the words. But they are not, and Pythia is looking over him with kind, curious eyes, and so he says nothing.

"Is that so?" says Pythia.

"I have it on good authority," says Exael. She leans forward, and sets her elbows on her knees. "Poor thing hasn't had time to take a lover in months, now."

Pythia's expression softens, and she reaches out to set a hand on the crown of Asmodeus' head. "No wonder you so enjoy these sessions of ours. Do you miss me, when I'm not here?"

"Yes," says Asmodeus. His voice is quiet; he can't quite look at her.

The worst part is, it's true. When they're apart – when he can think beyond how lovely she is, and how benevolent, and how lucky he is to be in her presence – even then, he finds himself remembering the soft curve of her breasts and the gentle tilt of her lips when she smiles.

Pythia tips her head a little, like a graceful bird. "Exael," she says. "He's been honest with us. I believe he deserves a reward."

"Leave it to me," says Exael, bright and chipper.

Then she reaches out, without leaving her spot on the pew, to take his cock in hand.

Asmodeus hisses in a sharp breath between his teeth; he bucks into it, without quite meaning to. They've been at this for hours, already, and every tiny touch feels like too much. He's sure he'd have come long ago, if Pythia had deigned to allow it.

Exael's hand is still slick with lube from the last round, and very, very warm. Her fingers are narrow, and her palm is smooth. She works him in quick, insistent strokes, palming the tip on every upstroke. In ten seconds flat, he's panting. In thirty, he lowers his head and squeezes his eyes shut, overwhelmed.

"That's hardly a way to repay me," says Pythia. "I grant you a boon, and you look away from my glory?"

"I'm sorry," says Asmodeus, breathless.

"Open your eyes," says Pythia.

Asmodeus opens his eyes. He lifts his head again, and finds that she's smiling. His cock twitches in Exael's hand, a fraction of an inch from completion.

"Enough," says Pythia, and Exael lets him go.

Asmodeus groans, low and wanting. When Pythia reaches out to cup the side of his cheek with gentle fingers, he nearly melts.

"I'm afraid you'll have to apologize to me more thoroughly," says Pythia, "if you hope to be forgiven."

She puts a leg out for him, and he follows it down, miles and miles of inviting skin, to the place where the white leather boots cradle her ankle.

"Well?" says Pythia.

"I'm sorry," says Asmodeus again. "Please. I meant no disrespect."

He kisses the leather – once, and then again, and then again – as though by pressing his lips to the surface he can somehow erase his sin.

"Hmm," says Pythia. She draws it out, slow and considering. Her fingers thread into his hair; the nails scratch a little, there against his scalp. "I don't believe you."

The words sound like a death sentence. They sound like the end of the world.

"Unfortunately, you know what that means."

He knows.

It means that he'll be left here, aching and alone, until the magic that holds his bindings dissolves hours from now. It means being found by the demons that come to this church to worship – the Prince of Vengeance, bound and hard and on his knees, waiting for a blessing that will never come.

"Please," says Amodeus again. "God is merciful. God is kind."

"God," says Pythia, quietly, "let the whole world drown." She leans forward to press a kiss against his cheek, and the warmth stings him like a brand.

Then she steps back, and in a blinding flash of light, she and Exael are gone.

King, under demonic influences like during the trial, uses his newfound powers to have the best threesome ever. Yugi and Intensity are definitely not into this to start, but eventually King fucks more than just fucks their minds and they become drooling sex addicts by the end.

Fox calls a Live to create his latest masterpiece, using his nude body as the primary brush. He inevitably gets turned on while people watch him, whether he just uses paint or adds come to the mix is up to the author.

thank you kind anon you are doing god's work

"Volleyball," says Silver, conversationally, "is the greatest game in the world."

He's breathing hard, like he's just played a set. His hair is plastered to his forehead, and his eyes are bright with laughter.

"Exactly," says Gold. "There's nothing like the spring breeze on the court, blowing through the net and tousling your hair." His tone is as dry as a desert. His hair is tousled, as though the spring breeze has indeed been blowing through the court.

Between them, B makes a soft, disgruntled noise. Silver reaches out a hand to pet along his back.

It's a bare back, stretched nearly horizontal between them. The curve of the spine is graceful, and B shivers when warm fingertips trace along it.

Gold reaches out to soothe him, too – only, Gold's hand finds a naked thigh, fingertips trailing up to curl into a loose fist around B's erection. B makes a quiet whine as Gold begins to tug, casual.

"Should we have a match sometime?" says Silver. "I bet we could find enough people to play."

Silver pauses – bites down on his bottom lip as Gold jerks forward, and B moves with him, and the pink lips around Silver's cock come all the way to the base.

"We'd probably get enough takers," says Gold. His hips are moving faster now; the sound of flesh slapping against flesh is loud in the room. "We may as well ask."

Between them, B makes another noise. It's mostly muffled by Silver's cock, but it sounds just shy of desperate.

In reply, Gold redoubles his efforts; the wet squelches of his hand moving are unmistakable.

"Sounds like a plan," Silver manages, but only barely, because B's tongue picks exactly then to do something clever and quite talented. He leans forward, mouth falling open and eyes slipping closed, the muscles in his stomach and thighs going tense as he comes.

"Mm," says Gold. "Yeah. I'll text a couple people tonight."

He slips his other hand around B – uses it to guide B's hips up, adjusting the angle.

All at once, B gives what would probably have been a yelp of pleasure, if his mouth weren't full. He presses back, desperate, into the steady, rocking thrusts, and Gold obliges, stroking him hard and fast.

Silver runs a lazy hand through B's hair before he pulls out; a small trickle of come slips down from the corner of B's mouth, and his eyes are dazed with pleasure.

"Thanks," says Silver, languid and sated. "It's hard, wanting to play when you can't."

He gets down on his knees, then – edges forward, until Gold gets the hint and eases B upward by the shoulders. Gold's hand pulls back, and the brief whimper of disappointment from B is quickly chased away by a gratified moan, as Silver's mouth takes its place.

Gold leans forward, forehead resting in the crook between B's neck and shoulder.

He breathes in, shaky and breathless, and tries to think of something voleyball-related to say. Nothing comes to mind, though – and then B is crying out, whole body going tight with his release, and the clenching warmth around his cock drags Gold over the edge, too.

There's quiet for a long couple of seconds, the room filled with nothing but panted breaths and a soft, wet sound as Gold pulls out.

"You guys have the weirdest kinks," says B, fondly, when he's able to breathe again – and Silver and Gold each reach out a hand to help him to his feet.

For a few moments, the only sounds that can be heard are her short, soft gasps and the scritch scritch scritch of pencil on paper.

The image on Fox's page is coming along, forming into something easily recognizable: two bodies wrapped up in one another, the boy with the messy hair sprawled on his back while the girl straddles him and holds him down with one hand clasped loosely around his neck. The girl braces herself, fingers curled in the bed sheets underneath them. Her shoulders are hunched, a few strands of curly hair framing her face, but her open mouth is plain to see, and it is Fox's own lack of ability that he doesn't manage to capture how her breath comes out in uneven, needy gasps. That is something he will need to practice, he makes a mental note for himself.

The sound of Joker's low groan makes his hand pause, and his eyes flicker from the image on his page to the sight in front of him, his two lovers on his bed, an image that won't leave his mind anytime soon, not if he can help it. Joker's knees are bent and his hips jerk upwards, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from Prim, her thighs tightening around him. At the angle he's sitting at, Fox can't quite see how Joker's cock slips easily inside her, but he can hear it--wet, hot noises matched with the way their bodies move almost frantically, the impact of Prim's ass hitting the top of his thighs, and at that moment it feels as though the two of them are determined to pull Fox out of his artist's head space and into the physical space between them... but he's determined to focus on art for as long as he can, until the heat and lust coiling in his belly consumes him.

How long he will last, he doesn't know--but he suspects it won't be much longer. He's caught by the sight of Joker's head arching back, showing off the taut muscle in his neck, the beads of sweat forming on his temple, the little knot of tension in his brow that Fox wants so desperately to kiss. He glances back at his sketch and frowns. He hasn't adequately captured the tension in Joker's upper body at all; he almost wants to erase the entire thing and start over again, but he has a limited amount of time to capture this so he has to make do with what he has. His eyes travel from Joker's brow to his wrists, bound above his head with a pair of handcuffs. Yes, the tension in his hands and arms is what drew Fox to start with, and he's pleased with how his sketch looks in that regard. Perhaps if he starts over from there he can--

"Yusuke."

All thoughts suddenly spill out of Fox's mind, and he's forcibly dragged out of his head and into his body, a feeling not unlike being pushed into a pool of ice cold water, only instead his surroundings feel too-warm and languid and sweet, like honey slowly pouring out of a jar. He's not sure who said his name, Prim or Joker, but it doesn't matter because they're both looking at him. Faintly he notes the tremble in Prim's thighs, the way her breasts move as she tries to catch her breath, the shudder in Joker's belly as he nears closer and closer to the edge of bliss. Fox almost whimpers with envy, acutely aware now of how painfully aroused he is, how uncomfortably tight his pants are, and he isn't sure which one of them he'd like to trade places with the most.

He licks his lips, swallowing before speaking. "Yes? What do you need?"

It's Prim who speaks, her voice huskier than normal, but with a wild edge to it. "Are you feeling neglected, Yusuke? I want to see... show me." It's taking a lot of strength to hold herself back from riding Joker into oblivion right now, he can tell. But Fox hesitates, knowing that if he stops his sketch, he won't be able to come back to it. As his eyes roam over Joker and Prim, as he sees the heat in their gaze, he knows he doesn't have a choice--and if he's being honest with himself, it's a relief to put that decision in another person's hands, into the hands of two people he loves and trusts.

"As you wish," he murmurs, his own voice almost hoarse now, and he sets his sketchbook and pencil aside with shaking hands. They don't stop shaking when he unties his hakama and pushes the fabric down to his ankles, followed by his boxer-briefs. Peeling them off is both a torture and a relief, and when he notices how both Prim's and Joker's eyes seem to devour him, he can't help but shudder with a spike of arousal.

Joker lifts his chin in Fox's direction and licks his lips. "Look at you, all wound up and needy. Don't you want to touch yourself? Do it, Yusuke." His voice sounds rough, commanding, almost domineering if not for the breathless edge to it, betraying his own pent-up ache for release.

Prim's fingers around Joker's neck tighten, forcing a low moan out of him. "Who's giving the orders around here, Joker?" He's about to answer but cuts himself off with a soft cry as she starts moving again, more wet noises filling the air. All that comes out of his mouth now are gasps and the occasional low-voiced "fuck" that sends a spark of heat through Fox's veins.

He's completely helpless when it comes to the two of them, Fox thinks faintly as he curls his fingers around himself, stroking his cock slow so as not to give in too soon, but enough to take the edge off. When Prim sees him, she lets out a hungry moan and her hips start moving quicker and quicker, as though she, too, is helpless to the lust-filled miasma that seems to have completely filled the room. "D-don't come until I say so, okay?" she manages to force out of herself before getting too incoherent, before the only thing she can focus on anymore is her own need for release.

Fox can only nod, concentrating on their movements and memorizing the sight of them. Soon, the slick sounds of his hand working himself over match theirs, and when Prim finally comes, her head tossed back with a wail, her hips moving frantically and unsteadily as Joker fucks her through it, Fox has to reign himself in to keep from finishing with her. It's almost painful, but he can only imagine how painful it must be for Joker, who hasn't received the signal yet that he's allowed to come. Every muscle in his body is straining, pulled taut, and Fox wants to kiss every inch of him to soothe that ache. After catching her breath, Prim slowly lifts herself off of Joker, almost collapsing from the strain in her legs, and lays down on her side next to him to catch her breath. Joker's cock is still hard, red and shining and nearly standing upright, and Fox's mouth waters at the thought of finishing him off like that.

He's lost in that thought when suddenly he feels Prim's hand touching his cheek. He glances up and sees her standing in front of him, giving him a sweet, gentle smile that's both mildly exhausted and a little bit mischievous. She strokes her knuckles along his jawline and tilts her head back at the bed, where Joker is squirming. "Why don't you take care of him? But keep your hands off yourself for now." He swallows hard and nods, rising with mildly shaking legs to close the distance between himself and Joker while Prim sits comfortably at Joker's side. Fox situates himself between Joker's legs and takes a moment to just admire the sight before him: the way Joker can't keep himself still, as though if he squirmed enough he could come; the way his erection shines wet with evidence of Prim's orgasm dripping slowly down the side; the bead of come forming at the tip that makes Fox's mouth water even more.

Prim curls up along Joker's side and places a hand in Fox's hair, gently stroking it as she urges him on. "Don't keep him waiting too long, Yusuke. Be a good boy." Her voice is somehow both sweet and commanding at the same time, and Fox lowers his eyes with a subvocal "yes" before letting Joker's waiting cock fill his mouth. The sound of Joker's moaning spurs him on, and he echoes it with a muffled sound of his own as he curls his tongue along the shaft, determined to savor this as much as he can. He wonders for a moment if Joker is using his unit ability on him, and judging from the sharp, hungry grin he can see as he glances up at Joker's face and how that sends another hot swoop of lust in the pit of his stomach, he realizes it's possible--and that only makes him want more.

Fox lets as much of Joker's cock slide into his mouth as he can, until the tip is edging into his throat, and moans around him. He wants to touch himself so badly now, and the feeling of Prim's hand in his hair and the tension in Joker's thighs only makes it worse. But he follows her orders, and hollows his cheeks around Joker, sucking hard before withdrawing for a quick gasp of air. He doesn't have much time to do so, however, because Prim is pushing him back down, forcing him to take Joker's cock as deep as he can and then some, almost to the point of choking. He's breathing out hard through his nose now to compensate for it, his senses completely filled with Joker. He thinks he could do this for hours, reveling in the taste and smell and sound of him panting closer and closer towards his release. Prim's grip in Fox's hair is tight as she lifts him up, and then back down, and then up, and then back down, and Fox eagerly surrenders to it. He loses count of how many times Prim forces him down like that, and only comes back to himself once she hears her murmur, "Okay, you can come now," into Joker's ear, followed by the sound of Joker choking and gasping with relief.

Joker's come floods Fox's mouth at the same time as Prim's grip on his hair tightens almost painfully, and she shoves him down to make sure he swallows all of it. It's a struggle, one that has his every sense heightened. Fox can't help but moan, eager and wanting and desperate for his own release, but it's so satisfying being able to draw pleasure from Joker like this until he's wrung out and exhausted, until all the tension and stress in his body has left him completely, leaving only a pleasantly worn out and boneless Joker behind. Once Prim's hands leave his hair, he withdraws and gasps for air, coughing but determined to swallow every last remnant of Joker's release.

For a few moments, the only sounds that can be heard are Joker's breath coming down from his heightened orgasm, and Fox's ragged gasps as oxygen fills his lungs. Then, the sound of handcuffs being unlocked and set aside next to Fox's sketchbook on the nightstand. As Fox lifts his gaze, he sees Joker giving Prim a fond, loving smile as he rubs his wrists which have some faint red marks on them. She presses closer and kisses him, soft and luxuriating, and he indulgently kisses back, one hand holding the back of her neck. Watching them, Fox is torn between the urge to once again pick up his sketchbook and draw, and the urge to use his hand for other things. Unwillingly a soft whimper escapes his wrecked throat, and Prim and Joker are brought out of their post-coital reverie to glance at him.

Joker chuckles and cups Fox's cheek, thumb pressing at the corner of his lips where a small stray trickle of come remains, and Fox eagerly leans into his touch. "You must be so wound up by now," he says, and suddenly Fox feels heat and need bloom inside him even stronger, and knows for certain Joker is using his ability on him. His entire body shudders and whatever words he was going to say turn into a choked-off plaintive moan. "And you've been so good. Hasn't he been good, Haru?" Fox is nuzzling into Joker's hand when Prim's hand curls along his other cheek, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb.

"Hmm, I think he's been very good," she replies, and Fox wants nothing more than to worship them both if it means being treated like this, being touched so gently and thoroughly and being praised. He feels beyond wrecked, beyond desire now, his entire body filled only with the need to be close and be touched by these two wonderful, beautiful people. It's enough to make him cry, enough to make him beg, and he opens his mouth to plead but before he can, he's being pulled up into Joker's lap, his legs on either side of his hips. Joker's hands run up and down his sides, down to his thighs and Fox lets out a gasp when Joker's nails rake along his skin, leaving red marks in their wake. It makes something in him hum with desire, like his body is an instrument whose strings are being plucked, sound and vibration moving through him, and if he could speak in complete sentences he'd ask Joker to do it again.

"How do you want to come, darling?" Prim asks, almost conversationally, as she pets and strokes Fox's hair and the back of his neck. It's not fair to ask him, Fox thinks, not fair to make him speak when his entire being is filled only with need right now. "Please," he manages to gasp out, "please just--touch me." As soon as he says it he can feel Joker's hands curl around his aching erection, and he almost sobs with how good it feels. Prim hums and sits up so she can kiss his cheek. "Of course we will, Yusuke," she murmurs. "You did so well, just relax and enjoy this." He turns his head to kiss her, uncoordinated and clumsy, yet she meets him with enthusiasm and swallows every plaintive whine that escapes him as Joker leisurely strokes him off.

Joker's gaze seems to capture him like this, and Fox faintly imagines this is how Joker looks when he's about to grab a treasure from the Metaverse, about to claim something as his own. It makes Fox feel dizzy, feel overheated, and he can only continue to rut into Joker's hand while he lets those thoughts overwhelm him. "Next time you should fuck me," Joker purrs. "If you can hold out long enough. Maybe you can fuck both of us, hmm?" He glances at Prim, a sly grin on his lips. "Or maybe we'll take turns using your mouth."

The thought of bringing them pleasure, bringing them both to ecstasy, using his mouth and tongue makes him see white for a moment. He can feel his orgasm building quickly, feel it running through his veins and he tosses his head back with an incoherent cry. That seems to be Joker and Prim's cue, as they double the intensity of their ministrations on him; Joker's wrist twisting with each stroke, his thumb pressing along the underside of the head of Fox's cock, and Prim's mouth on the side of his neck, biting and sucking at his skin in order to leave an angry, visible mark. Fox lets out a sharp cry and a string of pleading, "yes, yes, yes, please, yes--!" for a few excruciating moments before he finally comes, shoots of white hot pleasure coursing through him, inside and out. His vision is unfocused, but dimly he can see streaks of come scattered across Joker's front, and the too-pleased grin on his face. Prim's soft breath echoes in his ear, and he can hear her chuckle.

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