south_park_kink_meme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
south_park_kink_meme) wrote2022-07-20 03:24 pm
south_park_kink_meme) wrote2022-07-20 03:24 pm
South Park Kink Meme
This is a kink meme for South Park. It's fun and easy!
People comment anonymously with their prompts. Then, others write fic or make art based on the prompts and post their creations in response to the original prompt comment below!
Guidelines:
1. Please do not fight about ships or content in your prompts.
2. Hit "Post a new comment" if you'd like to leave a prompt, and hit "Reply to this" beneath the prompt you'd like to fill if you're filling a prompt
It's traditional to write the fic in the replies, but you can leave external site links too (such AO3 for fic, or privatter for art).
3. Please see this example prompt if you need guidance! Prompts don't have to be elaborate; please just try to give writers/artists enough to work with ^~^
- Here is a list of kinks you may find helpful, and you can search on your own as well
- Got an idea that's SFW or not necessarily centered around kink? Check out the General Prompt Meme!
- Prompts can be filled any number of times; one fill does not close out the prompt!
- There's a kink meme Twitter account that tweets when prompts are filled and shares updates/news, and a tumblr where you can submit prompts as well
- Also a collection on AO3 if you should choose to post there as well and would like to add it. There is an input box for collections when you upload a new work on AO3, and you just type in: SouthParkKinkMeme_DW, and it'll pop up
- Here are some examples of past South Park Kink Memes on Livejournal if you're curious
Temp Note 7/30/22: I've had to turn on comment screening because of spamming, but prompts have been great otherwise, so keep 'em coming if you got 'em. Comment screening just means I have to hit a button for them to appear. Please see the FAQ post if you have any questions!
Please click here for a shortcut to the latest fills and prompts on this post!
There's also an index post with links to all the fills and prompts for easy access!
People comment anonymously with their prompts. Then, others write fic or make art based on the prompts and post their creations in response to the original prompt comment below!
Guidelines:
1. Please do not fight about ships or content in your prompts.
2. Hit "Post a new comment" if you'd like to leave a prompt, and hit "Reply to this" beneath the prompt you'd like to fill if you're filling a prompt
It's traditional to write the fic in the replies, but you can leave external site links too (such AO3 for fic, or privatter for art).
3. Please see this example prompt if you need guidance! Prompts don't have to be elaborate; please just try to give writers/artists enough to work with ^~^
- Here is a list of kinks you may find helpful, and you can search on your own as well
- Got an idea that's SFW or not necessarily centered around kink? Check out the General Prompt Meme!
- Prompts can be filled any number of times; one fill does not close out the prompt!
- There's a kink meme Twitter account that tweets when prompts are filled and shares updates/news, and a tumblr where you can submit prompts as well
- Also a collection on AO3 if you should choose to post there as well and would like to add it. There is an input box for collections when you upload a new work on AO3, and you just type in: SouthParkKinkMeme_DW, and it'll pop up
- Here are some examples of past South Park Kink Memes on Livejournal if you're curious
Temp Note 7/30/22: I've had to turn on comment screening because of spamming, but prompts have been great otherwise, so keep 'em coming if you got 'em. Comment screening just means I have to hit a button for them to appear. Please see the FAQ post if you have any questions!
Please click here for a shortcut to the latest fills and prompts on this post!
There's also an index post with links to all the fills and prompts for easy access!
Re: Craig/Tweek incest, hate fucking
(Anonymous) 2022-12-03 12:16 am (UTC)(link)Tweek’s sitting in the passenger’s seat of his car. They’re both adults, and he’s not Craig’s brother. Craig doesn’t have a brother. He has a sister and she lives back in South Park with their dad. Tweek is Richard’s son, and Craig hates him. He hates both of them. And he’s starting to hate his mom for her obviously shit taste.
It’s not like his dad’s a real winner but Richard’s no upgrade. Maybe he takes a little better care of himself. He’s not fat and he doesn’t drink every day. But his personality is fucking awful and Craig doesn’t understand why she doesn’t just stick to what she knows.
His brat son is just further evidence of his awfulness. Tweek has commandeered the aux, won’t allow him to play his own music ever, actually, because it’s “frat boy garbage,” according to Tweek. Tweek’s esoteric ass music may as well be whale sounds for all Craig knows. Aside from insulting his music and commenting on the length of time Craig takes shitting in the morning, Tweek barely talks to him, but his mom makes him drive Tweek to school, and the mall, and his weekly shrink appointment. He’s probably crazy from having a dad like that. He can’t even drive.
They stop to pick up Clyde first. Tweek introduces himself and asks his name.
“Clyde,” Clyde replies nasally. The conversation ends there.
If it were just those two, Craig would be fine, but then they stop to pick up Jimmy who kisses Tweek’s hand in greeting, and Tweek giggles. Their tone is flirty which makes Craig want to puke. Against his will, Craig learns Tweek’s getting smoothies with friends and then going clothes shopping.
Tweek asks to be dropped at the main mall entrance, in that weirdly calm, dull tone of his that gives Craig the creeps. It reminds him of his creepy father. Craig can’t get to his stop soon enough.
“Mmnh, thanks, big brother,” Tweek says with a simper when they arrive, and he leans in like he’s going to kiss Craig. He’s so fucking embarrassed, even more so because his heart is slamming hard against his sternum, but he doesn’t push Tweek away or punch him like he wants to. He just freezes. “For the ride,” Tweek murmurs, his breath hot against Craig’s cheek. Something deep in his gut twists at the tease of it all, expecting a kiss and being denied it.
On the inside, he’s fuming, but he doesn’t say anything. He can see Tweek out of the corner of his eye, studying him for a moment like he’s some sort of specimen under a microscope. Then Tweek pulls back with a contented hum, and hops out of the car.
The second the door slams shut, Jimmy’s howling with laughter. Craig’s cheek tingles with the ghost of Tweek’s hot breath and now he has to contend with his jackass friends having seen all of that.
“That was hilarious. He’s even funnier than me. He totally got your ass, dude. Are you two f-f-fuh—screwing yet?” Jimmy asks. Clyde snorts his energy drink out of his nose onto the upholstery.
“That’s fucking gross,” he shouts at both of them at once, tossing Clyde a wad of napkins from his glove compartment. “That’s my goddamn—brother,” he grumbles. He’s not, he doesn’t really mean it, but it is gross.
“I mean, not really. You didn’t come out of the same uterus, you’re not really brothers. You’ve known him for, what, a month? You’re both adults…” Thanks, Jimmy.
“So what, it’s still fucking gross. And I’m not gay!”
There’s a long pregnant pause Craig is not pleased about.
“Well…” Jimmy starts, “he obviously wants your d-d-dick.”
“Yeah, I mean, if you hate him anyway, why not get a blowjob out of it,” Clyde suggests. Craig hopes the energy drink residue continues to burn his nasal passages all day.
“Can we just go to the movies? I don’t want to talk about my stupid fucking family anymore,” he says through gritted teeth. He should make new friends who aren’t so comfortable commenting on his fucked-up family dynamics. That sounds hard, though. Maybe they’ll shut up during the movie.
It’s some Marvel bullshit he’d sort of been excited to see, but once they get in their seats, all he can do is mindlessly eat his popcorn and stare at the screen with unfocused eyes, thinking about stupid Tweek at the stupid mall with his friends, probably trying on gay little outfits.
His mom’s first description of Richard had been that he was a “very progressive man” with a “very special boy” which Craig took to mean a pill popper with a gay son. It seems like he was right on both counts. Richard talks like he’s on Xanax and his son’s shorts are too short, his tastes too obscure, and oh yeah, his taunting flirtation with Craig too bold for him to be straight.
The movie ends and Craig’s out the door before the credits even start rolling, too restless to even pretend he’s enjoyed himself during his one excursion this weekend. He’s well-aware he’s awful company, merely grunting when Jimmy asks, “What’d you think of the movie, ch-champ?” but he’s trying to keep his cool looking for Tweek at the food court. He’d texted, “on our way to food court” five minutes and still no response, though it had clearly been read.
But after a minute of scanning the crowd, Craig spots him laughing and being hugged around the middle by a guy in a big orange parka. Craig had imagined his friends would be as sexually ambiguous in their fashion choices as Tweek, but this guy looks regular, if a little schlubby. He kind of hates him instinctively because he seems to like Tweek, squeezing him tight with Tweek practically in his lap, making his face light up when he plants a sloppy kiss on Tweek’s cheek. Tweek lights up further when he spots Craig and he grabs his bags, says goodbye to his friends, and bounds over with an easy smile on his face.
“Let’s go,” Craig says in a bored tone, and he doesn’t know if he’s pleased or feels shitty when Tweek’s smile falters. It’s a little of both.
He drops Clyde off first, then Jimmy. Their chatter is only a dull hum because Tweek’s shorts seem shorter than ever and he’s got his feet up on the dash. On his way out, Jimmy hollers to Craig, “Thanks for the ride, p-p-pal. Remember what we talked about!”
“Your friends are nice,” Tweek says, voice oddly contented. He’s acting like they’re a couple driving home from dinner with friends. It’s sick. What gives Tweek the right to act like no boundaries exist between them? Some should.
“No, they’re not,” Craig replies dully.
Tweek huffs out a bit of breathy laughter at that. It wasn’t directed at Craig, but Craig wasn’t trying to be funny, so it feels like it was. Fuck this little shit.
That night, just as Craig is drifting off, he’s awoken by the sound of Richard pounding his mom into their headboard. He wonders, as he grabs his jacket, vape, and headphones, if his father got all the shame in the divorce. Then again, if his father had had any shame, he wouldn’t have cheated on her so damn much and they might still be together. Craig hurries down the stairs in the hopes he might escape this hell, at least for a little while.
Halfway down, he feels a tugging on his jacket sleeve and jerks his hand back instinctively. His knuckles collide with hard bone and soft flesh, and a sharp cry pierces through the sound-blocking his headphones provide. He yanks them off and turns around to find Tweek whining softly and rubbing his eye.
“Dude, can you smoke me out? I’ll get you back. Eugh, just don’t wanna…” He flails his arm ambiguously.
“No,” Craig says, automatic but he’s resolute. He doesn’t want to share this time with Tweek. This isn’t a fucking bonding moment. This is probably his fault. His parents probably got divorced because of what a problem child he was.
This contradicts his thoughts from earlier in a way he’s peripherally aware of—the idea that the issue was his father. That’s fine, though. He doesn’t need to think about these freaks. He needs to forget this is his fucking life for half an hour vaping in his car while this freak’s freak dad bangs out his mom. Tweek can fend for himself.
He jogs down the remaining stairs, leaving Tweek in his wake. It's cold out and Craig cranks the heat but still shivers as he tries to forget those little sounds of pain, the way Tweek already had his jacket on over his plaid pajama bottoms. He wonders what Tweek is like high. Maybe he was high on their way to the mall—how else would he muster the brazenness to tease Craig like that? Where does that urge come from? Why is Craig thinking about him?
There’s not a lot going on in Craig’s social life. He just needs for the parties to start up, and to get invited to them, and he'll be alright.
When he comes back inside and up the stairs, their parents mercifully seem to be done fucking, and Tweek is coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He’s too pale, an unhealthy gleam to his skin, but it’s the glinting on his chest that draws Craig’s attention.
“Where’d you get those?” he demands, staring at the silver rings encircling each peachy pink nipple on Tweek’s pasty chest.
“Huh?” Tweek squawks, an undignified sound. When he looks down and realizes what Craig is looking at, he covers his chest with an arm, and then has to hoist up his towel where it sits knotted around his waist because it almost slipped. If Tweek were one of his friends, Craig would’ve laughed off the predicament, but he’s stoned and he’s never seen Tweek like this before. His eyes drink in the sight against his will.
Of course, Tweek is right in front of him and can see him watching, and glowers at him. “My friend Kenny did them, and it’s none of your business! Stop looking at them!”
Craig lets out an irritated scoff and keeps it moving to his room. He only looks at Tweek as he heads back to his room too because of how noisily Tweek huffs and grunts. The dimples at his lower back are elegant and almost feminine and he hates that Tweek has them. He locks his door and ends up wasting the afternoon accidentally edging himself watching anal porn because he just happens to like blondes with no tits. Tweek’s even ruined porn for him.
He can’t get off in the end, so he watches old Star Trek reruns and vapes ‘til he’s sleepy, vowing to start running again next week so he can work off this pent-up energy. His fucking balls hurt.
The next morning Craig has to drive Tweek to school. They go to the same school so it wouldn’t actually be a huge imposition, except Tweek is taking beginning Russian which starts at 8 am every day. Craig doesn’t have a language requirement because he’s studying computer science so he’s just up awake for no reason. Tweek makes him go through the Starbucks drive-thru but he can’t really complain about it because Tweek pays for his drink too. He doesn’t even make fun of Craig for getting hot chocolate.
His afternoon class is canceled so he gets to come home early. Craig's glad to have some fucking peace and quiet, until “—augh, Kenny, fuck—” his stepbrother groans from the other room. He sighs deeply at having found himself in a similar predicament twice in one week.
“Is that good?” he hears another voice murmur.
“Yeah, nmph—fuck, fuck, right there,” Tweek whines.
“Mmm, you’re so sensitive. I love that,” the other man—Kenny—murmurs, and then he hears the disgusting squelching sound of them kissing. God, at least Craig hopes it’s from kissing.
The gross sound is interrupted by Tweek breaking out into a cry that Craig is horrified to feel shoot straight to his cock. It only gets worse when Tweek moans rhythmically like Kenny’s begun rolling in and out of him at a decent tempo. Not hard or fast which Craig would’ve preferred. That’s how he should be given it, his stupid bratty not-brother—a rough, hard pounding to shut him up. It sounds like Kenny’s “making love” to him instead. The whole thing’s pissing Craig off.
It must be pissing him off, because his face and body feel hot. When he reaches his hand down his pants, it’s with the intention of soothing the throbbing ache in his groin, just holding his straining cock til the feeling subsides. Instead, it has the effect of externally validating that he’s hard from listening to his stepbrother get fucked in the other room. Once that boundary has been trespassed, Craig’s not able to stop. He grips tighter and stuffs the collar of his jacket in his mouth so he doesn’t make a sound as he begins jerking off.
His eyes squeeze shut and the sounds Tweek’s making go to his head. Breathy moans, little pleas, oh Gods, oh fucks. Craig can’t fucking take it. He imagines that he’s the one coaxing those sweet noises out of Tweek, and he’s sickened by himself, the way they’re fucking so slow and sweet. That’s him in there calling him a good boy, only he would never. Tweek’s never been good to him; he’s a teasing, bratty little shit.
He's not gay but when Tweek begs him, “Harder?” in a meek little voice Craig’s never heard before, he can’t help but oblige him. He’s grateful his bed doesn’t creak as he fucks up into his hand imagining Tweek on top of him. Is that how they’re doing it?
Craig pumps lotion into his hand from his bedside table and pivots to envisioning Tweek before him on his hands and knees, taking him from the back; he yanks Tweek’s head back by his unruly hair and smacks him hard on the ass. Then he imagines missionary, and there’s something appealingly perverse about doing a guy in the butt in the most conservative, heterosexual position. His dad would be so ashamed of him and he hates Tweek, resents him so bad, because he doesn’t even care anymore. He wants to make the same mistake his mom did and hitch his wagon to that crazy in the other room, and all Tweek does is mock him.
He’s not even nice to him, but unlike his dad, he is cute, if Craig’s being honest with himself anyway. Getting frustrated with himself, he tries to stop thinking all these weird thoughts, tired of dragging it out. He listens to the dull thump of skin against skin from the other room and jerks himself tighter, faster pretending he’s shoved up inside his stepbrother’s ass as he whimpers and cries.
He manages to come around the same time Tweek does. It can’t be because his moans are more authentic and rawer than anything Craig’s heard in porn or real life. It’s something else. Shame, maybe. His partner comes with a shaky groan a few moments later and Craig’s back to full-on disgust mode. Tweek has tricked him somehow—that’s how he got him to jack off to the sound of him getting fucked, coming on this stranger’s dick. Kenny was the one he said did his nipple piercings, wasn’t he? Disgusting slut probably fucked him in exchange for the piercings.
In the next room, Kenny murmurs things in a low voice and Tweek titters, all fucked out and stoned sounding. Craig lies there, cum congealing on his hand, tying to pick out specific words, but he can’t. After a few minutes, there’s movement in the other room, then the sound of a door opening, and heavy footfall on the stairs.
After another minute of no sound coming from Tweek’s room, Craig tells himself he must’ve gone with Kenny or fallen asleep and he bolts to the bathroom to wash his hands. In the mirror he catches a glimpse of himself, pink-cheeked and hair ruffled. It’s disgusting, embarrassing. When he exits the bathroom, wiping his wet hands on his sweatpants, he’s met with the sight of a half-naked Tweek, glowering at him with his arms crossed over his skinny chest.
Re: Craig/Tweek incest, hate fucking
(Anonymous) 2022-12-03 04:56 am (UTC)(link)_______________________________
“Were you listening to me?” he hisses. This is Craig’s worst nightmare.
“No,” he replies, indignant, even though he very much had been listening.
“What—augh, Craig!” Tweek screeches. “What fucking right do you have to listen to me have sex? Why wouldn’t you just leave, or—or put on headphones or something?”
Why hadn’t he put on headphones or something? “I was sitting in my fucking room, where I live. Not my fault I’m the only normal one around here. Not like I’m making all of you have loud disgusting sex every day!” he shouts back.
“Oh, disgusting—you found it disgusting?” Tweek scoffs derisively. “I see the way you look at me—you think, grargh, you think I don’t see the way you look at me?!” He’s getting louder as he delivers his judgments. There’s nobody around to hear them—nobody except for Craig—but still he wants Tweek to shut up, needs him to. Of course he would’ve noticed the way Craig was looking at him the other day. Stupid fucking weed making him act gay. But who wouldn’t have the decency to at least pretend they hadn’t noticed? “You’re not fooling anybody, Craig, least of all me. I know what you are.”
As Tweek sneers at him, Craig is frozen where he stands, heart racing and blood pounding in his head. Even though Tweek is the one who’s shirtless with sex hair, Craig feels so naked. I know what you are—what the hell does that mean? Beyond the insinuations about his sexuality, what does Tweek see? He can’t stand being made to feel this way.
After a few moments, Tweek snorts at his lack of a comeback, turns on his heel, and opens his bedroom door. Something in Craig snaps and he lunges after him, grabbing him by the shoulder and knocking them both to the ground. He grabs him by his stupid sex hair and growls in his ear, “Shut the fuck up—you don’t know anything about me!”
Tweek laughs and elbows him hard in the throat. “What’s to fucking know? Hngh, get off of me!”
Craig coughs from the impact on his windpipe, but still manages to pin him down with his legs. Tweek seems to be panicking a little, body quaking and breaths coming shallow, like maybe he’s claustrophobic. Good.
But then he starts pushing his ass back against Craig’s groin and laughing manically. “Is this what you want, Craig? Mmm—like this, stepbrother?”
“Don’t fucking—stop fucking talking to me like that! What’s wrong with you?” Craig grips his hair tighter and smashes his face into the floor. There’s an audible crack but he can’t stop. Tweek doesn’t stop grinding back against him even as he yelps in pain, the sounds muffled by the carpet.
Craig pulls his legs up off of him, unpins him for a second because he’s going to get fully hard in a second if Tweek keeps this up. Tweek scrambles out from under him panting and flips over onto his back, in a sort of crab-like defensive stance. Blood is dripping down his face and there’s a big splotch on the carpet. Craig feels like a monster but, like with the jacking off, once he’s started, it’s hard to stop. He pounces on Tweek and pins him down on his back now.
Their thighs are pressed together and Tweek shrieks and struggles like he really doesn’t want to be pinned in this position. He pushes up on Craig’s shoulders and, when that doesn’t work, his hips and it’s then that Craig notices.
“You’re hard?” It comes out much harsher than Craig intended. He just hadn’t expected Tweek would be attracted to him. His teasing seemed more like mockery. But when Tweek flushes bright red at that, he feels a jolt in his gut.
“N-no!” Tweek whines, but Craig is already touching his hard cock through his thin pajama bottoms. He can’t believe it’s real, that any of this is.
“You’re fucking hard,” he says, playing up the mocking tone that made Tweek blush like that.
“Craig, wait!”
“But you want this. You want me to fuck you, you sick fuck.” He’s never had this much control over Tweek. He feels drunk on it, almost. Is this how Tweek feels, toying with him? He grows bolder. “Did he come in you? Huh? You fucking—”
“No!” Tweek shrieks, offended. He belongs this way, it suits him, pinned underneath Craig, blood under his nose starting to dry dark crimson.
“Nnh?” he gasps when Craig pulls his pants down to his knees and pushes his knees up to his chest. His entrance is pink and still glistening with lube, and Tweek struggles to keep it clamped shut in this position. He wants to tell him his hole is ruined, but can’t bring himself to say it. It’s not even true but it could be. It could be if Craig has his way.
“You’re gaping open, you fucking slut,” he says instead, affecting a faux-disgusted tone even as his cock aches to plunge into that flinching pink hole. Tweek clenches up and squirms like he’s going to be able to hide how exposed he is right now, but Craig only spreads his cheeks further apart with his palms.
“I just—ergh, Craig! Please!”
“Please what?” Craig hisses, grabbing Tweek roughly by the jaw. Then, a little more gently: “Please what, Tweek?”
“Hng, just—not so rough. I’m, 'm sore,” Tweek mumbles.
“Only ‘cause you asked nice,” Craig murmurs in Tweek’s ear as he leans over to grab the bottle of lube that’s been knocked to the floor by his bedside table. When he pulls down his pants and starts slicking up his dick, he notices Tweek staring at him with his pupils blown wide as dinner plates. He gulps audibly and scrambles to pull his pants off the rest of the way as he stares at Craig.
It gives him the sense he’s supposed to be here doing this—Tweek wants it so bad, and so does he. They’re both hard as hell, Tweek’s relatively daintier cock firmly up against his tummy. Craig pulls his sweatpants off the rest of the way and gets on top of him again.
He doesn’t hesitate to press himself inside. As he pushes past his loosened entrance, Tweek shudders and whimpers beneath him. Even though he’s just been fucked, Tweek still needs to relax for him, and it seems hard for him with the tension of the situation. Craig nudges his thighs open wider as he pumps his cock deeper, Tweek’s spasming muscles parting to accommodate him. He winces and huffs out forced breaths like the stretch is a lot to take.
“I’m bigger than him, huh.” Tweek says nothing, only gasps as Craig fucks his way in deeper in jerky thrusts, then screams when he plunges in balls deep.
“What’s wrong, honey?” He has to hold both wrists in on hand and pin them above Tweek’s head. “Pounded-out slut can’t even take a cock?”
“Hrgnh—” Tweek makes an odd gurgling sound in the back of his throat in response as Craig holds still pressed to the hilt. It feels so good he’s not ready to move. It’s hot and snug all around him and he doesn’t want to start fucking him in earnest yet. He grits his teeth and clenches his stomach to hold back any sound, any sign of weakness. He doesn’t want Tweek to know how much this is affecting him. Tweek must like the cruel things he’s saying because he clenches around him when he calls him a slut.
“Mmm, this is all you’re good for, isn’t it?” he murmurs, saccharine and cloying, as he mockingly places soft slow kisses down Tweek’s neck. “Just a little cocksleeve?”
“Mmmnh,” Tweek whines as he hugs Craig from the inside.
“Is that a yes? Just good for getting fucked,” Craig pauses to suck on Tweek's neck harshly, “and spending daddy’s money?”
“Fuck you!” Tweek screams, clenching down on Craig’s cock, so hard it actually fucking hurts. He’s really fighting him again, flailing his limbs in an attempt to wrest his way free, but it only makes him whine harder because of how deeply lodged Craig is within him. This is a weird development, though. Craig will cede some ground to the brat.
“Didn’t like that, huh.”
Tweek is practically growling and his kicking might actually free him, except Craig has the upper hand, shoved all the way to the hilt inside him.
“Alright. Alright, babe. No daddy talk? That’s fine. You’re just a whore.” He starts circling his pelvis, staying inside so deep, pulling needy sounds from his stepbrother with every swivel of his hips.
“Is that it? You’re just my little whore?” Tweek wails an incomprehensible sound and his gaze is unfocused, and Craig needs to know he’s all there, so he slaps his right cheek hard. “You want me to keep fucking you?”
“Yes!” Tweek shrieks desperately, clutching at the red handprint already forming on his anguished face. “I’m—I’m just your whore! Craig, please!” He tries tilting his hips to get Craig’s dick to move in and out of him but Craig’s holding them too tightly. His whole lower half trembles and he bites his lip and cries because he can’t fuck himself on Craig’s cock.
“You like being spread open this wide,” he asks, feeling Tweek shudder and the accompanying spasming around his cock when he noses at Tweek’s hairline, “on your brother’s cock?”
“Yes, augh, yes—”
He takes a ragged breath when Craig promptly pulls out of him a few inches, then screams when he slams back in hard. As Craig begins to set a brutal pace, Tweek gasps and shrieks in time with it, squirming and writhing beneath him. He’s so much louder than he was with Kenny, and Craig loves that, doesn’t want to question why he needs to be better at fucking his stepbrother than some guy he’s never met, but he does, and he is. He needs Tweek to say it too, so he slows again—
“You like it deep? Huh? You ever had it this deep before?”
“No! Never! Ah, I love it! Don’t stop! Rrh, I love your cock, Craig!”
He can feel how on the brink Tweek is; all around him he feels the uncontrollable clench of someone desperately chasing release, and when he looks down, he sees his legs quivering all over and pre-cum streaming steadily from the head of his cock. Seeing him in this state, Craig suddenly wants to kiss him and lick him all over, be tender and sweet with him, but that’s not how they began this and he doesn’t want to impose his gross feelings on him like that. This is punishment sex or something. He’ll just finish him off and then go deal with his shit on his own.
He thrusts hard and fast again, and feels the sting of Tweek’s fingernails scraping at his ass but it only spurs him on more. Tweek pleads without words, only sounds and his beseeching gaze. Craig wants to know the taste of his mouth, wants to feel his pert, ringed nipples between his lips, even wants to lick his dripping cock clean. This is all happening so fast—he’s never kissed another man and now he’s balls deep in his new stepbrother he thought he couldn’t stand, staring at his face as it crumples in agony. There’s something so frustrating about him, but God, he’s so good and obedient when Craig has him like this.
On autopilot, Craig leans forward until he’s hovering over Tweek’s mouth. Tweek’s lips part and he looks up into Craig’s eyes, tears adorning his long pale lashes like morning dew. He’s so oddly beautiful, and now that Craig’s inside him he can acknowledge he’s probably felt that way since they met. It must be why he finds Tweek so difficult. He’s wanted to conquer and silence him, only now that he has, it’s not like he thought it would be. There’s no relief at getting the brat off his back; only the pursuit to possess him even more, to penetrate even deeper.
He bends down til he can feel Tweek’s hot breath puffing on his lips, and presses his lips to Tweek’s before he can stop himself. It’s just a second, just a little tease, and when he pulls up, Tweek sobs out, “Cr-raig.” There’s something so desperate and sad in the look on Tweek’s face when Craig looks down. It makes him want to give Tweek everything but he doesn’t know how.
Instead he pumps his hips faster, harder. This isn’t punishment sex. He doesn’t know what this is. He’s brutal so he doesn’t have to be tender but he can’t imagine Tweek would want his tenderness. Craig encircles his shoulders with his arms, hanging on tight. Tweek’s cock is pressed between their stomachs and he opts to grind against him, inside him, reaching under him to prop his ass up so he can hit as deeply as possible. At this angle, with Tweek’s legs spread wide open and his arms wrapped around Craig back, he seems to be hitting it just right because his cries stretch into one continuous keening sound. He’s never felt so in control or so out of his mind in his life.
Having heard him come from the other room is nothing like experiencing it firsthand. The second Tweek starts clamping around the length of Craig inside, hips involuntarily jerking away and tears streaming down his face as he groans and cries, Craig starts coming too. Tweek’s milking him dry and it’s all he can do to continue fucking him through it. By the end he’s lost control of all his senses and when he finally stops coming inside his stepbrother, he’s snapped out of it by the feeling of Tweek clawing at his hips, the sounds of his sharp cries.
No longer gripped by the desire to make Tweek small and subordinate beneath him, Craig promptly withdraws, and finds it’s too late. Tweek is absolutely wrecked, sobbing and shaking, his ass gaped wide open, the muscles fucked totally slack, and Craig’s cum oozing out of him and puddling on the rug beneath him. He’s relieved there’s no blood, but there’s plenty dried on his face from what Craig did to his nose, and suddenly he can’t look at him anymore, look at what he’s done to him.
He probably looks very stupid grabbing his clothes and booking it out of there bare-assed, but he can’t be in there another moment longer. Pressing his back against his bedroom door once he’s inside, Craig drops his clothes. He can hear Tweek crying in his room and he puts his hand on his dick and feels it stirring again. What the hell is wrong with him?
He opts to shower rather than contend with any of these fucked-up feelings. When he gets out, Tweek is still crying and Craig listens to it guiltily ‘til it dies down, maybe an hour later. Then he stares at the ceiling and tries his very best to think about nothing at all.
Re: Craig/Tweek incest, hate fucking
(Anonymous) 2023-01-14 01:13 am (UTC)(link)