south_park_kink_meme ([personal profile] 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!

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- 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!

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Re: tweek/kyle exhibitionism - Fill 2/2

(Anonymous) 2023-05-08 02:23 am (UTC)(link)
Finally the coach disperses, taking his red hot energy with him, and the team goes back to changing and packing their things. Kyle refuses to let go of his mouth, but does at least show him some action again. Shoving him up against a new locker in the dark and dusty corner, Kyle fucks into him; hard, fast, banging his body against the metal with enough force that Tweek wonders why he bothers to cover his mouth at all.

At least it feels good now. Kyle’s spit has dried up and his palm catches against his skin but actually, it’s not so bad. Almost pleasurable. Tweek moans into his hand—a genuine moan, not another nervous whimper. Kyle doesn’t moan, he notices. Just huffs of air against his neck like a bull, an occasional grunt when he shoves his dick in too hard.

“Seriously, Broflovski? Coach is out here ripping us a new one and you’re back here getting hole?”

Tweek does let out a cry then, straining to get a look at the strange voice. One of his teammates is leaning against the changing stall door, arms folded across his broad muscular chest. Now *he* looks like a hockey player should.

“You’re welcome to join,” Kyle says and drops his hand from Tweek’s mouth. “Isn’t that right, Tweek?”

He finds he likes that idea, actually—a big fat cock in his mouth while Kyle fucks him raw. He’s shoved onto a nearby bench then, bony knees painfully hitting the wood. Kyle’s teammate approaches them and Tweek looks up to lazily nod his head. A thin line of drool runs down his chin, which the guy thumbs away for him. Surprisingly tender.

“Eager,” is all he says as he unzips his fly and tugs his jeans down enough to pull his cock out, then kneels on the bench before Tweek. Kyle pauses behind him so Tweek can easily wrap his lips around the other man. He tongues the tip, pressing into the slit to taste him.

Thick fingers scratch against his scalp and Tweek takes him further, inching down slowly, slowly until Kyle thrusts into him and forces his teammate’s dick to hit the back of his throat. Tweek gags and gasps for air, but the guy has a grip on his hair now and Kyle is fucking relentlessly behind him.

The pair find a rhythm that works, rocking into Tweek’s mouth and ass in unison, like good teammates should. He moans and whines around the cock invading his throat, no longer anxious of his volume. If there are any other players left in the locker room, they either can’t hear or don’t care about what’s going on in their secluded corner.

Kyle’s fingers dig into his hips, nails cutting crescents into his skin. They’ll leave bruises, but when was the last time Tweek’s been fucked so good he leaves with mementos? The thought forces him to swallow, a lewd slurp echoing off the frigid walls of the room.

The other guy’s hold tightens, his breathing heavy, and he yanks Tweek forward on his cock, spilling hot come down his throat and making sure he swallows every last drop. Tweek chokes, but it comes out as a pathetic gurgling whimper and when he finally pulls out of his mouth, it all starts running down his chin, splattering on the bench beneath him.

He notices that he doesn’t help wipe it away this time.

Quietly, Kyle’s teammate tucks himself back into his jeans, zips up, and nods his head. “Thanks, Broflovski.”

Kyle, apparently, has stamina for days. He’s still not done and Tweek can no longer keep himself upright, his head pressed against the bench while his quaking thighs barely manage to heft his ass in the air.

“Can you touch me?” he asks—pleads, really, his head turned to the side just enough that he hopes Kyle can hear him. He just catches Kyle’s judgmental stare, but it’s not long before he hears him spit into his palm and there’s slick friction on his dick again.

It takes almost nothing for Tweek to come thick stripes down his own chest, crying out, trying to pull away because now it’s all too much. Too much pleasure, too much pressure—he’s spent and he’s tired but Kyle doesn’t stop.

He wraps his arms around Tweek’s middle, pulling him in close, keeping him there until finally, fucking finally, Kyle hits his peak, the only sound out of his mouth a near silent “mmph.” Tweek drops down on the bench when Kyle pulls out, huffing and panting with his arms uselessly dangling over the edge. “Put your fucking pants on before somebody sees you,” Kyle tells him.

“Are you kid— what?!” They nearly got caught by Kyle’s entire fucking team and his coach, and *now* he’s worried about somebody seeing him? When he looks behind his shoulder he catches Kyle chuckling behind his hand, the way he has ever since they were kids. “You’re such a dick, ugh!”

“And you’re a stalker, so I guess we’re even.” Kyle hops a few times to make sure his sweatpants are secure around his waist, then rounds the corner to pack the rest of his bag.

Tweek finally finds the strength to move and to, yes, pull his jeans back up, and joins Kyle at his locker.

“Same time next week?” Kyle asks, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“During your game? Again?! Are you planning to get benched?”

“I never plan to get benched, but it usually happens.” They make their way to the double doors, Kyle using his palm to hold one open for Tweek.

He must take too long to decipher Kyle’s intentions, because he sighs and goes through himself, letting it shut in Tweek’s face. Fucking asshole. He can’t believe he’s actually considering Kyle’s proposal. To come back here and be treated like entertainment, a fucktoy, an object. Shushed and hidden like a dirty secret.

As he leaves the locker room and crosses through the darkened stadium, he wonders if he can talk Kyle into bringing more guys into it next week.