weewookinkmeme | Kink Meme

Kink Meme

So how does this work?

1. Anonymously post a short prompt. It could be shippy, porny, weird, fluffy, angsty, gen, or whatever else your heart desires.

Remember that a short, open-ended prompt is easier to fill than something highly specific. E.g. "What if Buck and Eddie had exhibitionist sex at the gym?" is more likely to get a fill than "What if Buck and Eddie had sex at the gym, Buck came first, then someone walked in and they never spoke of it again. After a slow burn, they get together while Maddie is giving birth to her and Chimney's third child."

2. If you see a prompt that strikes your fancy, anonymously fill it. Your fill could be 200 words written straight into the comment box, or it could be a multi-part epic. Multiple fills for one prompt are not only acceptable, but awesome.

Note: Deanoning your fic, or posting it to your namespace AO3, Tumblr, Twitter, or any other account, is completely fine, but please wait a week or so to do so, so it can belong totally to the kink meme for a bit. Kink memes are not only for fic, they are also communities; we want to celebrate your fic that you made for this community for a bit before it's released into the wider world.

Second note: Deanoning is NOT required. Your fic can live as an anonymous fill for as long as you please. :)

3. If you post a prompt, try to fill one if you can!

4. Comment on things you're excited about and start discussions. The conversations can be the best part of being on a kink meme! And part of the benefit of being on Dreamwidth is that we are all completely anonymous, so you can deep discuss anything you please without shame.

5. Don't troll, wank, or start discourse. If you don't like a prompt/fill, scroll on past and post something you do like. Treat people well. Harassment will be deleted with prejudice. If you see someone treating people poorly, you can report it here.

Edit: Feel free to post prompts for RPF ships. Let's make sure to only prompt about actively famous people, not relatives or friends of famous people (unless they're famous in their own right), and avoid RPF prompts about real life minors.

Second Edit: Just a reminder to be careful to write out "omegaverse" or "alpha/beta/omega" instead of using the letter abbreviations, as it's a very nasty slur in some parts of the world.

It's that simple! Here is a list of kinks for inspiration, get prompting and have fun!

If anyone is totally new to HTML, I've written up a quick tutorial here; click to expand.

Basic HTML is pretty easy! This is how you make words bold, italicized, underlined, bigger, smaller, etc. You use what are called "tags", and surround the words you want to be affected.

<i>Like this</i>

<b>Or this</b>

<h1>Or this</h1>

That's the raw HTML. When you post a comment, it will change the text. So when you post, the three HTML tags I'm using there would look:

Like this
Or this
Or this

<i></i> = italics
<b></b> = bold
<u></u> = underlined

That's the very basics, and probably all you need for commentfic. Here is a more in-depth guide, and here is the HTML that is usable on Dreamwidth.

You can see new fic in the fills thread, or on Pinboard for clickable links (If you're using a phone, Pinboard will probably be easiest.).

AO3 Collection

~~I'm testing out another journal style, since a couple anons pointed out that the current one is hard to navigate on mobile, don't be alarmed! Edit: ugh, I hate what I've created. Bear with me.~~ Okay, I'm just gonna go with the site default, I think, since it's nice and functional. Apologies to anyone who witnessed the various in-between stages of the journal, lol.

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please please please i really want a western au where buck is a cowboy. eddie could also be a cowboy or idk the preacher's son. i don't know whatever you want i just neeeeeeed it

yes pls

Bobby decides to give early season one Buck some extra discipline by spanking him, and they're both extremely turned on by this

(Oops sorry fixing the formatting!)

“It’s okay,” Bobby says, quiet, when Buck climbs onto the bed where he lays, still too weak to stand. “It’s alright,” he whispers as Buck wraps shaking arms around him while kneeling so carefully he barely rests any weight on Bobby’s tired body. I can take it Bobby thinks as he pulls him down closer, holds back as hard as he can. “Oh, kid.” There’s the wet of tears against his neck. Let me take the weight. There is, so softly he doesn’t quite know it for what it is for a moment, the wet of lips against his neck. One of Bobby’s hand slides from Buck’s sweat damp shirt up into his curls and Buck goes entiely still.

“Sorry,” Buck says, voice cracked open. “S-sorry, I-“

“It’s okay,” Bobby says, guiding his face up to get a good look at him. Eyes rimmed ugly red, blue almost gray in the dim light of the bedroom. He looks exhausted, he looks lost. Terror, in the set of his mouth. Desperation, in the tilt of his brows.

“I-I just-“

Bobby says — a third time, like that will somehow make it true, a magic number — “It’s okay.” He wipes Buck’s cheek with a thumb. I should be the one apologizing. “Buck-“ I left you too long. “Buck.” Says the name so quietly he’s not sure Buck would hear it if he was any farther away than he is right now. I’d never have left you at all, if I had any say in it. You know that, right? I did everything I could to stay? To come back? He leans up, rests their foreheads together. “Whatever- whatever you need. You take it, whatever you need.”

Buck makes a sound like- relief, pain, surprise. Permission granted, he moves quickly. Like we’re at work, Bobby thinks as Buck pulls down his pajama pants, the soft ones, the only article of clothing that survived the house fire because Bobby had been wearing them the last time he’d died. You already have a plan in your head, you just need my say so and you’re off. Buck licks his palm. They’re good plans, too. You’ve come so far- Bobby’s breath hitches and hitches as Buck strokes him, and Buck groans as he shifts to straddle Bobby’s bare thigh, making tiny thrusts like he’s still trying- trying not to hurt him. Buck is hard, Bobby can feel the thickness of him through the sweatpants Buck hasn’t bothered with removing. Bobby is soft in his hand, but that’s okay. I’m so proud of you. “Yes- B- thats it- that’s good, take it-“ Do you know that, too? I’ll say it, I swear to God, I’ll make sure you know- everything- I’ll make sure you know-

Bobby’s lips bump into Buck’s chin and the kid lets out a noise that sounds like a sob — may very well be be a sob — and it’s over, Bobby feels the wet of him cumming against his leg, and the way he shakes so badly he finally can’t keep himself up anymore. The full weight of him does ache a little, makes it hard to breathe with his still healing lungs, but Bobby’s eyes flutter shut at the safe warmth of it. He shifts just a bit, trying to pull his pants back up, and Buck notices enough to help, and then Bobby nudges and pulls until Buck is stretched out, laying against him. He kisses the side of his head, Buck shudders again.

“I’m tired,” Buck says, muffled into Bobby’s shoulder. “I’m so tired, Bobby.”

“Go to sleep, then.” There’s a blanket just off to his side, he drags it over them both. Fatigue is settling back in his bones, he wont last much longer awake either. If someone finds them like this- well, at least they’re clothed again. “I’ll still be here in the morning.”

Shake, shake. “Promise?”

Bobby relaxes into Buck, into unconsciousness. “I promise.”

For the prompt: fix-it where bobby lives and buck needs to be close to him but also can't stop crying while they have sex
https://weewookinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=20700#cmt20700

Hello, sorry, I messed up the formatting on this one, reposted a fixed version so the old one can be deleted if you want to declutter! https://weewookinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=20444#cmt20444

For some reason, every time the Probie makes some stupid decision, Buck is sitting there. Sometimes it’s in the cab of the firetruck after he tangled all the hoses. Sometimes it’s in the loft of the firehouse, after he dumped an entire pot of fresh pasta down the sink. Or sometimes it’s here, at a house party Ravi’s throwing with his three roommates, drunk with his back up against the couch as Ravi spins a bottle in the middle of his living room floor and it lands on Buck.

“Uhhhh,” he says, sitting criss-cross applesauce and looking at Buck with a face that vaguely resembles Winnie the Pooh. He’s three Buzzballz in and so drunk that he’s leaning over, like the Tower of Pisa. His black curls are frizzy and wet from the fact that his air conditioner is done and busted, and he’s too broke to actually get it fixed. Buck had already called in an old favor from one of his construction buddies who moved to Los Angeles, but he won’t tell Ravi that. He’ll just come over to his house after three half-assed house invitations sandwiched between GamePigeon pool games, and ask Ravi if he prefers his house to be the temperature of a desert.

“Let’s go probie,” Buck says, now, using his leverage on the couch to stand on unsteady feet. Even though he won’t say it, Buck is just as drunk. Four jello shots and three beers have nicely gotten his way to toasted, and now, when Buck offers a hand to Ravi, he has to blink a couple of times to make sure it’s only one hand he’s offering.

The rest of the living room inhabitants hoot as Ravi slings himself up, tumbling into Buck as he puts his hands on Ravi’s hips to hurdle him into the pantry closet off the kitchen. Ravi’s shirt leans up, and Buck puts his thumbs on the skin there. There were already three other couples that had passed their allotted seven minutes in heaven time, so Buck feels a little less brazen about the fact that he’s going in there with Ravi.

Ravi’s babbling about something. Buck’s half listening, up until he gets his hand around the thin pantry door knob and yanking it open, pushing Ravi in. The pantry is dark, except for the slits of light that filter into the space. There’s a bag of basmati rice tucked up against the corner, making the room smell like starch, and three bags of flour.

“Why do you have so much flour?” Buck asks, cutting Ravi off from whatever the hell he’s saying. Ravi turns and puts his hands on Buck’s shoulders to steady himself, his hands big and hot against the thin of Buck’s t-shirt. He rubs at his shoulders half-haphazardly, and Buck’s split-brained mind can’t help but focus on it. He smells like coconut oil. It’s coming from his hair, which Buck can smell because Ravi is pushing and pawing at him like he wants to be fucked. Buck fights the urge to bury his face in his hair.

“What?” Ravi asks. He mumbles under his breath. “It’s for food.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, his voice laced with duh. Outside, someone yells SEVEN MINUTES START NOW. “What food?”
“Chapati, white boy,” he says, leaning into Buck’s space. “I’ll teach you how to make it when we get out of here.”

Buck nods. “Got it,” he says, and then he takes Ravi’s face into his hands and kisses him.

Ravi tastes like the Forbidden Apple Buzzballs he downed, almost as if he had run it all over his lips before pouring it down his throat. Buck kisses him, hard, so hard that he has to push Ravi back against the wall to get him there, properly. He uses his body to cover Ravi completely, so that if anyone opened the door, they would see the outline of Buck’s body and a few springs of black curls. Ravi uses his hands to run them all over Buck, over the curve of his stomach, down the dip of his back, between the seams of his arms. For his first time kissing Buck, he takes to it like a fish in water.

He makes a low noise in the back of his throat as Buck puts his hands in his curls and fists them. Like a whimper. It makes Buck abnormally hungry, so he digs his teeth into the bottom of Ravi’s plush lower lip and kisses him harder.

“Buck,” he says, and then he gasps, open-mouthed and hot as Buck slides a hand up his shirt and over his lower stomach. It’s tense and hard and warm.“Fuck,” he follows that with, and then giggles and pulls back.
“That rhymes,” he slurs, as Buck kisses down his neck. He uses his hands in his curls to pull Ravi’s head to the side and kiss down the soft skin of his throat. “Did you know that?” He asks, panting. His hands are holding tight to Buck’s shirt, and they feel so good, the liquor running through Buck’s blood so everything is heightened and slow, syrupy and hot.

“Did you know it rhymes?” Ravi asks again. He moves his hand down to cup at Buck’s half-hard cock, moving the heel of his hand against the material.

“Jesus probie,” Buck says, gritting his teeth. His head spins as Ravi strokes him through his pants. “Shut it.”

“Mmm,” Ravi says, after Buck is done sucking on his tongue like he can roll the words straight off it, “you don’t like it when I do that.”

Buck puts his hand back on Ravi’s hip and brings them together, grinding together sloppily while Ravi mouths at Buck’s jaw, putting his hands on Buck’s sweaty neck so that he can get a better angle. It’s only good until Buck lifts Ravi a bit, letting him wrap his legs around his thighs so that they can rock together.

“God,” Ravi breathes, his head back up against the wall. “Your arms.”

Buck should say something snippy, surely. But it feels too good with their hips rocking together like this, so he saves it for later and bites the hollow of Ravi’s throat, listening to him moan and squirm and whimper that he likes it, like he likes Buck, that he wants it, wants him.

Ravi comes first. That’s what happens when you’re 25 and still full of life, Buck thinks bitterly, still grinding against Ravi’s loose linen pants.

“You should come in my mouth,” he says, after a second, twitching. Buck blinks.

“Sure,” Buck says, because he’s a kind partner. “You think if you get on your knees you’ll ever get up?”
He doesn’t know how many minutes have been up, but it’s surely more than seven. He can’t imagine the kind of noises that have deterred anyone from opening the pantry doors.

“Sure, I will,” Ravi says brightly. “You can pick me up.”

Then he slides to his knees. Buck gets his hands back in those curls and unzips his jeans, pulling his dick out and fisting it a couple times, not too many, and moving his hand down to open Ravi’s jaw for him.
He slides his dick in, lets Ravi hold it in his mouth for a second considering he’s too drunk for anything else, feels as Ravi licks at his cock, skim his teeth over the sensitive skin for a second, and then he comes. It feels so fucking good, drunk and the shade of the pantry cooling his skin. His teeth chatter for a second as he releases, before he puts his head against the wall and heaves.

Ravi leans back against the wall once he’s done too, his hollow head clunking against it. Buck zips himself up and raises an eyebrow down at Ravi, as he holds his arms up for Buck to pick him up. His hair is even more of a mess.

He sighs and reaches down, putting his hands under his armpits to haul himself up. He curls into Buck’s arms, sighing and smacking his mouth appreciatively, and Buck sighs even louder, thinking about what stupid, half-assed situation he’ll follow the Probie into next time, as he smooths down his hair with his hands.

https://weewookinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=21468#cmt21468

Bobby finds out that Buck has been calling other men daddy and gets possessive because he's the one who has been in that role for Buck for years so if anyone should get the rewards of Buck being a good boy now it's him.

+ bonus if Buck holds back on saying it with Bobby at first bc with Bobby it's too intense compared to the play acting he's done with other partners.

omg omg this is so wonderful!!!! thank u anon for writing it i love it so much 😍

i like my smut funny ☺️

im SOBBING this is incredible LMAOOOOO. is this like. fulltime rat bobby or can he also be a were-rat?

It's been a couple of days. Sometimes he does that, waits, waits until every fibre in his body tells him you need to, when someone's (Buck's) hand on his shoulder at work has his dick throbbing, when his pants alone offer enough friction, when he can't wait to get home after his shift, to an empty house - to turn on the shower or get naked and lay on bed.

He enjoys the feeling of the sheets against his back, his eyes closed, one hand on his shoulder, squeezing, pretending it's –

He lets himself think of the size of the hands. Of the lips, and the scruff, and the size of the chest, the legs. Deconstructed, because the full picture –

He shouldn't.

Promises himself he won't. Not this time.

He's hard already, pulls his foreskin back, starts jerking off slow. Practised. He wants it to last, wants to enjoy it.

Maybe he waited too long; even the first touches send pleasure crashing over him, sweet relief nearly as good as an orgasm.

He pictures a hand on his dick, pictures Buck-no-pictures someone between his legs and spreads them, sets a pace slower than he'd like.

His fantasy adds a low voice, gruff, Not yet, Eddie. You can take this. You're doing good.

Don't touch yourself.

He'd listen. He knows he would.

Already, the picture assembles itself in his mind. The outline of a body; wide shoulders attached to strong arms, a strong chest. Tattoos of which he knows every detail. Buck would be breathing fast, if he wanted this and was here.

Eddie feels bad for pulling him into this. Feels bad for making the Buck that lives in his head, that's always with him, do this.

Just like that, fantasy-Buck says. Yeah, you look so good.

They're all snippets of conversations they've had. Buck in the gym, Buck during training, Buck with his stupid fucking clipboard demanding stupid fucking things.

Today, today he was riding Eddie's ass particularly hard. Laughing and touching and then turning back to the fire station's to-do list, preparing for inspection.

Sometimes, he thinks this is an indulgence he shouldn't permit himself. Sometimes he looks at Buck and thinks, fuck me. Bend me in half, take me apart, make me come.

He knows it's a choice.

To put his hand back on his cock, to slowly stroke himself, to tease himself the way he thinks Buck would tease someone.

Sometimes, Buck talks about sex with people that aren't Eddie. Eddie will ask questions, pretend to be a considerate person, a good listener, a friend. He stores the information in his mind; lets it all pour out when he's alone like this.

With his hand back on his dick, he thinks about the time Buck said he thinks hand jobs are underrated, and sometimes more personal than fucking someone.

He's still picturing Buck's hand. Squeezing, pulling, speeding up and slowing down. He's picturing Buck's gaze, focused entirely on Eddie, full of wonder the way it is when he's learning something new, something he finds interesting.

These days, Eddie gives in.

He used to fight it, put in so much effort. Wouldn't let himself, if he thought of Buck even once.

He went a month without, until he was on edge and crawling out of his skin.

It's useless, all of it. His mind does what it wants, and Eddie has learned to accept it. He'll be frustrated with himself later today, and he's learning to let go of that too.

He'll feel bad when he sees Buck tomorrow, and then Buck will laugh at him, and everything will be forgotten, pushed out of Eddie's mind until the next time he does this.

This: jerking off, picturing Buck kissing him, his jaw, his nipples. Squeezes with his free hand and pretends it's Buck's mouth and lets himself veer over the edge and careen into climax.

Afterwards, he washes up at the sink. He doesn't like to look in the mirror like this; a man who betrays his best friend's trust.

He deals with it. Fights it, and lets it win, and then the struggle starts all over again.

And he promises himself that as long as Buck doesn't know, it's fine. As long as this is private, within the realms of his minds, as long as it doesn't interfere with their friendship - Eddie can deal. He's willing to carry this burden, and tomorrow he will be fine again.

Prompt: Eddie getting off fantasizing about Buck - if he feels a little weird/guilty about it, all the better! (link: https://weewookinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=5852#cmt5852)
Fill link: https://weewookinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=23004#cmt23004

HELLO i second this wow yes

YESSSSSSS

shannoneddie with shannon domming eddie. also maybe pegging if it brings you joy?

you know what either honestly. ideally if he's a wererat he would have some rat behaviors even in human form i think. also up in the air: is he a rat sized rat or a bobby sized rat?

anonnnnn this is hot. and i love ravi being like buck. buck. hey buck did you know it rhymes. and buck coming in his mouth because he's a kind partner. tysm for this <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Thanks, anon, I deleted the janky one.

+1!

ryliver. ryan’s celibate and oliver’s trying to break his spirit by blatant flirting and bossing around.

Prompt anon here - ohhh what a lovely thing to wake up to! I love your Eddie, the way he's always fighting himself, trying so hard not to give in and then giving in anyway, the thread of affection under the attraction and guilt. I love the way he constructs the fantasy, bit by guilty bit, out of a version of Buck he does know. This is hot and a little achy and entirely delightful, thank you so much.

A bit I particularly loved:

Buck would be breathing fast, if he wanted this and was here.

Eddie feels bad for pulling him into this. Feels bad for making the Buck that lives in his head, that's always with him, do this.

AHHH. EDDIE.

sweaty men pummelling each other get them going. tommy assures him it’s just a little brojob like back in the army.

Awww, poor Buck.

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Bobby/Buck, sexy spanking

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Bobby/Buck - daddy kink & possessiveness

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