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trash mod ([personal profile] trash_mod) wrote in [community profile] biotrash2014-03-19 04:11 pm


Stars, hide your fires;
Let not light see my black and deep desires

- bioshock trash crew proverb




Spoilery comments to this post will be deleted, and their authors vanished in the night to volunteer in our city's fine Protector Program.

Thank you for your attention. Have a nice day!

Welcome to the Bioshock kink meme.

You can find a semi-frequently-updated list of prompts, with links and an indication of whether they've been filled, here at the index.

it is a kink meme. people anonymously (or not) request fic and pictures; other people anonymously (or not) write that fic and draw those pictures. everyone masturbates, peace is achieved.

there are two ways to take part!

1) start a new comment thread with a pairing/ship, and a kink. there's a kink masterlist here if you find yourself strapped for ideas.

2) swoop into an existing comment thread, and fill the person's request with art or writing. if someone's already filled the request, go for it anyway -- the more the merrier! if you need somewhere to upload/host images, try imgur.

there are some beautiful gems on the old kink memes. if you want an example of how this whole thing works, or you're digging for gold, look no further: on Livejournal, on Dreamwidth.


Fontaine/Ryan- Hatesex

(Anonymous) 2014-03-21 12:38 pm (UTC)(link)
You don't fuck Fontaine, Fontaine fucks you

Re: Fontaine/Ryan- Hatesex

(Anonymous) 2014-03-21 02:37 pm (UTC)(link)
please sweet baby jesus

Re: Fontaine/Ryan- Hatesex

(Anonymous) 2014-04-21 04:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Ryan opened his eyes with a groan, the ringing in his ears turning to a dull throb as the soft lamplight of his office shot straight through his brain. What had happened? The blinding pain of his heart beating in his head almost gave him an answer, but his mind slipped around it before he could find the words. He heard a throat clear and forced his eyes across the room to where a dark figure was standing, holding his golf club. The person lined up to take a shot and, in doing so stepped into the light. Frank Fontaine.

Of course, he was Atlas now. His dark hair a poor imitation of Ryan’s own, his wide girth flattened into a stocky build by the best surgeon money could buy. It took everything Ryan had not to laugh at his childish worship, making himself in the form of his idol. Fontaine drew back the golf club for a swing and, sitting leaned against his own desk, Ryan realised all too late that he was in the direct path of the ball. Before he could think, there came the wicked smack of the ball bouncing off of the desk, right next to his face. Ryan tried to dodge, much too late, but he found he was immobilized, his hands held together by… something.

Fontaine dropped another one of the monogrammed balls onto the wooden floor, stopping its bounce with his dirty boot, winding up for another swing. This shot clipped Ryan in the ear, startling him more than hurting, and Ryan was embarrassed to hear himself yelp. The sound was so undignified, so animal. He felt a blush start in his neck and focused on the floor, trying to slow his heartbeat.

Another ball thudded against the desk, making him jump. “For the love of god, Frank!” He shouted across the room, finally breaking the grim silence his captor held him in. Fontaine ignored him, lining up another shot which struck him neatly in the shoulder. It felt like the ball punched all the way through him, but the fact that he could do nothing about it hurt Ryan more than anything. Fontaine dropped the last ball, taking his time with this one, dragging the moment out. His aim was true, the ball hit Ryan right on the temple, sending white sparks cascading across his vision.

Fontaine walked quickly across the room to the desk, presumably to collect the balls for another round. Ryan didn’t dare to think what else Frank might have in store for him, now that he was helpless in his enemies hands. He bent to pick up a golf ball and, seeming to change his mind, struck Ryan full across the face with the back of his hand. Ryan tasted blood from his place on the floor, unable to struggle back up into a seated position, unable to see Fontaine from his awkward tangle of tied limbs. Fontaine roughly pulled Ryan towards him, holding him by the collar.

He swung a fist at Ryan, time slowing long enough for Ryan to fully feel the fact that he was unable to stop the crushing pain and iron flow that would soon envelope his face. And then everything was pain and Ryan could feel blood slipping down his face in dark streams, emptying his nose over his lips in a rush of white pain. Fontaine hauled him to his feet, keeping him pressed against the desk, the warmth of his body oddly comforting in this hour of hopelessness. The younger man stared him in the face with a look of twisted glee, his grip on Ryan’s collar tightening. Ryan licked his lips out of instinct, spitting when the warm blood ran over his tongue.

Fontaine laughed, leaning forward to taste the blood on Ryan’s lips. He licked a few drops from his chin, forcing the majority of Ryan’s blood into his own mouth in a deep, hot kiss. Though he struggled to keep the man’s bloody lips out, Ryan was helpless to push him away and Fontaine’s thick tongue pressed his lips apart, spreading Ryan’s own taste throughout his mouth until he had no choice but to swallow.

Fontaine’s other hand was doing something strange. Ryan couldn’t tell what it was, but he could feel the younger man’s calloused fingers tugging on the fabric of his suit, until he realised that they were working against his trousers. With a jump, Ryan suddenly started fighting again, refusing to suffer further humiliation at the hands of this dog. He was well secured, however, and Fontaine was easily able to overpower the sad thrash of Ryan’s bound torso, never breaking the kiss as he pushed him so tightly against the desk that Ryan could feel it cutting into the backs of his thighs. He bit down on Ryan’s lip, holding him in place with his mouth as he deftly unfastened his trousers, tugging away fabric until Ryan’s cock was freed from the cloth, hanging in the cold air.

The rough hand seized him and Ryan almost groaned, catching himself just in time. Fontaine laughed. “Already firming up? I knew you’d want it, I just didn’t know how badly.” Ryan shook his head slightly, lips clamped together, determined not to let his shame show on his face. “You don’t?” Fontaine said with an air of surprise. “That’s strange, they way I remember, you were always gagging for it.” He paused, releasing his hold on Ryan and smiling that sardonic grin again. “Maybe I can remind you.”

He pushed Ryan down on his knees, undoing his own zipper now and pulling out his cock, which was already standing at attention. Steinman had done good work, Ryan thought quickly before he could catch himself. Fontaine stroked himself a few times, allowing Ryan to appreciate the full girth of his new body, and then forced the man’s mouth open with his thumb, pressing his jaw to keep him from biting down and easing himself onto Ryan’s tongue.

To his shame, Ryan was fully erect now, the salty taste of Fontaine skirting over his tongue as the man savored the warm feel of his mouth. Fontaine took his time, drawing circles over Ryan’s tongue with silky smooth skin before he started to press into his throat. Ryan choked as the member forced its way past any semblance of comfort and he heard Fontaine hiss as his throat tightened around him, forcing himself in up to the hilt, pressing his hairy body against Ryan’s mouth, enveloping him in the smell of sweat and piss.

One thumb between Ryan’s teeth, the other twisted in his hair, Fontaine started to pull out slowly, letting a choking breath come tearing into Ryan’s mouth as bile and saliva mixed to drip around his mouth. And then he was thrusting in again, smothering Ryan, splitting him in half. Ryan shut his eyes in dread, trying not to let the tears leak out as he gagged and retched against Fontaine. He could feel a vein pulsing in the man’s heavy cock and he pulled out suddenly, laughing.

“You always were a good whore,” Fontaine said, smearing the drizzle of drool and blood around Ryan’s nose and mouth, rubbing it into his face. “Look how wet you’ve got for me. But I have much better plans for you.” He dragged Ryan to his feet again, eyeing his darkening erection with sick mirth. As he spun Ryan around, the Great Man suddenly realised what his hands were tied with as the phone was dragged off his desk with the sudden movement. No dial tone meant no witnesses, right? It would be just like Frank to broadcast this to the whole of Rapture, his final victory in a series of idiotic battles.

Relief thawed his stomach as Ryan saw that his phone had come unplugged from the wall, they were alone. Strange that this would be a comfort, but pain was nothing to the humiliation of having to be rescued. Unfortunately, these tangents were small distractions from Fontaine forcing him down over his desk, pinching him terribly against the edge of the expensive wood. Even if he had been brave enough to admit he needed rescuing, no one would hear Ryan with his face pressed against the wood, his head forced down by one of Fontaine’s large hands as the other reappeared on his ass, dragging slick fingers along it until Ryan felt one working its way inside of him, piercing him with an odd thrill. A second finger crept in, stretching him, pulling him apart, although it didn’t take much. Ryan shut his eyes, trying to place this pleasure somewhere else, trying to take credit away from Fontaine. He wouldn’t let him win. A third and Ryan’s eyes shot open, every nerve focused on the slippery fingers tugging and twisting at some spring inside of him that was almost ready to release.

And then the fingers were gone and Ryan closed his eyes again. He knew what was coming next. He braced himself against the desk, trying to think only of the pain in his own cock where it was pressed against the edge of the desk, bending painfully around the sharp corner as the weight of two bodies were leaned against it. Fontaine was inside of him, grunting slightly as he pushed his way all the way in, filling Ryan completely. Bile rose in Ryan’s throat, making his mouth water as Fontaine started to slowly withdraw, trying to stay silent against the grain of the desk. As Fontaine thrust his way back in, Ryan couldn’t keep from gasping a bit, trying so hard to remain expressionless in his enemy’s grip.

Fontaine began to thrust in earnest now, pumping in and out of Ryan in long strokes, little moans coming through his gritted teeth as he grinned at his victim. Ryan focused on the pain of the desk, trying to move his body slightly so that he might be more comfortable, trying to think about that sharp corner instead of the stocky man drilling into him from behind. As he moved, Fontaine hit a place somewhere deep inside of him and, before he could stop himself, Ryan let out a long groan. Fontaine sped his pace, slamming Ryan against the desk, pushing them both across the floor a little with each thrust. “Are you trying to fuck back, slut? You don’t fuck Fontaine. Fontaine fucks you!”

Placing one hand on either side of Ryan, he beat against him until Ryan could no longer feel the pain of the action or the nausea bubbling in his throat. All he could feel was the vibration of the desk and the hard hands forcing his face into the wood and the piercing, shooting, pain that was stabbing through him from beneath, threatening to burst out of his chest and break him into a million pieces. An orgasm tickled in Ryan’s body, ready to bubble forth at any second. Fontaine’s hands slipped along Ryan’s back until they caught on his tie, pulling his head up to get a look at his face. Grinning maniacally at his still bleeding nose, Fontaine rode Ryan to completion, his leaking cock spilling out over the floor of his office though he frantically tried to distract himself, desperate to deny the man any satisfaction possible. With a high groan, almost a sob, Fontaine finished inside of him, shooting hot come into Ryan for what seemed like a full minute.

He twitched and pulsed to a stop, panting as he braced himself on Ryan’s collapsed figure, withdrawing his softening member slowly and shaking it off onto the floor, before doing his own trousers up. Unable to move, Ryan lay panting on the desk, waiting for whatever new horror Fontaine had in mind for him. He listened desperately for any clue to what was next, waiting and waiting. Finally he heard the door close and lock from the outside, footsteps sounding away down the hall. He was alone.

“Hello?” he called, disappointed in the way his voice was cracking from the experience. Wondering who, if anyone would find him here.

Re: Fontaine/Ryan- Hatesex

(Anonymous) 2014-04-21 04:45 pm (UTC)(link)

Re: Fontaine/Ryan- Hatesex

(Anonymous) 2014-06-12 10:38 am (UTC)(link)
Bless your soul