![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
BIOSHOCK KINK MEME
Let not light see my black and deep desires
- bioshock trash crew proverb
PROMPTS AND FILLS WITH INFORMATION ON BURAL AT SEA 2 ARE SPOILERS.
THIS POST IS A SPOILER FREE ZONE UNTIL APRIL 27th.
PLEASE ADD ALL SPOILERY PROMPTS AND FILLS TO THIS POST UNTIL THAT TIME.
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.
NOW GO FORTH AND MULTIPLY, MY CHILDREN
JATLAS ORGASM DENIAL YOU SAY? (1/2)
(Anonymous) 2018-05-06 10:34 pm (UTC)(link)He's been out of sight for less than five minutes when his radio crackles on.
"You alright out there, boyo? I seem to have lost track o' you." Jack smiles to himself. It's so like Atlas to check on him after such a short absence. Always looking out for him, even when no one else was. Jack unclips the radio from his belt and brings it to his mouth.
"'M fine. Just laying low for a minute so I can take inventory," he replies. Atlas sighs audibly in relief.
"You found somewhere safe then? Where the splicers can't get to you?" Jack nods before remembering to answer verbally. "Good...good work."
Atlas leaves it there and the radio goes silent. Jack has finished organizing his ammunition and has moved on to rations by the time another call from Atlas comes in.
"Say, Jackie, could I ask you for a favor?"
Jack raises an eyebrow. The nickname is new, and Atlas sounded...different, just then. Like he was leaning into the receiver, letting Jack in on a secret. He still answers instantly, of course.
"What do you need me to do?"
"First thing's first - put down everything you're holding." Jack sets the radio to his right and a half-eaten Pep Bar to his left. "Now, put your hands up under your jumper. You can take it off if you want, just run your hands over yourself for me, alright lad?" Jack has no idea how touching his own bare chest could be a favor to Atlas but he does as he's told - rucking up the sweater so he can smooth his hands over the skin of his torso. His hands are shockingly cold, not to mention covered in blood, gunpowder, and god knows what else but the motion is comforting, somehow. At one point, he runs the flat of his palm over a nipple and gasps at the sensation.
"Feels nice, don't it?" Atlas comes back over the radio in response to noise. Jack isn't sure if he's expecting a response, but gives an 'mmhm' anyway. It comes out higher pitched than he'd intended. "Whenever you're ready, boyo, would you kindly move one o' them hands o' yours between your legs? I'd like you to start touching yourself there."
Again, Jack wonders dimly what this favor is all about, why Atlas is asking this of him, even as his right hand follows instructions. That wonder is almost immediately replaced by want as he begins to work himself through his pants, grinding up against the heel of one hand and circling one of his nipples with the other. He moans before he can stop himself, loud enough for Atlas to hear clearly.
"Mm, good boy," Atlas purrs. Jack's cock twitches at the praise. "I didn't even ask you to make noise for me yet and here you are doing it. Keep it up, boyo. Get yourself nice and hard for Atlas."
He doesn't have to tell Jack twice. With a shuddering gasp, Jack tips his head forward to watch his hips grind up. He lets arousal build in his stomach, lets his cock swell under the warm pressure of his hand.
Now fully erect, Jack all but shoves his hand under his clothes to touch himself directly. Atlas likes it when he makes noise, apparently, so he angles his head towards the radio on the ground and continues to sigh and moan and pant as loud as he dares while he strokes himself. It would be a real mood killer if he managed to attract company, so he still has to be careful, but the knowledge that Atlas is listening to him pleasure himself is making it very difficult to stay quiet.
"How are you doing, Jack? Feelin' good?" Atlas's voice is as calm and even as ever. Jack groans out a 'yes'. "Are you gettin' close for me? Workin' yourself up for Atlas?" He is close, Jack realizes. Already his cock is leaking fat drops of precum onto his stomach, twitching hard as he strokes at an increasingly rapid pace. Jack throws his head back and cries out 'yes' again.
"Good, good. Now listen to me closely, boyo, this is important." Jack slows his ministrations a fraction. "Would you kindly not cum 'til I tell you to? Can you do that for me?" The instruction settles heavy in Jack's head. He manages to reply between ragged breaths.
"Of...of course, A-Atlas. Anything you want."
That manages to draw a groan out of Atlas.
"That's what I like to hear. Go ahead and carry on, then. And say my name again, while you're at it. It sounds god damn perfect like that."
Jack works himself faster, grips himself harder, and moans Atlas's name on every other thrust. His cock is drooling precum near constantly now, leaving a noticeable wet patch on the front of his trousers. The muscles in his stomach won't stop clenching and it's become basically impossible to keep his voice down.
"Ooh - fuck, Atlas, please-"
"Please? Please what, lad?" Atlas sounds positively smug. Jack is already flushed, but he feels as if his face gets even hotter.
"Please - ah! - p-please let me -" He cuts himself off with a whimper when his hips involuntarily buck particularly hard.
"Well, Jackie, if you can't even ask for what you want, how am I supposed to give it to you?" Atlas's voice is sickly sweet - his grin is nearly audible in his tone. Jack takes a deep, shuttering breath in.
"Please let me - ngh - let me cum. Please - ah - Atlas!" Jack's voice pitches into a high moan when he says Atlas's name.
"There's a good boy."
Jack thought he was about as close to the edge as he could get - those words push him closer. He groans low in the back of his throat.
"But..."
Jack holds his breath without stopping the movement of his hands.
"I don't think so, boyo."
What?
"Take your hands off yourself, would you kindly?"
What?
Jack obeys before he even registers he's doing it. His cock is left pulsing hard under his clothes, in time with his racing heartbeat. He scrambles for the radio.
"But -"
"You heard me, Jackie. Now straighten yourself up and get on your way to Langford. You've still got a job to do."
And that's that. Atlas leaves it there and Jack doesn't see any point in questioning him. Jack dejectedly pulls down his sweater, trying to ignore the way the fabric makes his over sensitive skin tingle. He finishes counting his supplies and packing them back into his bag, a task which seems terribly difficult to focus on now. Eventually, through a combination of patience, willpower, and staring at the corpse in the corner, his body calms down and Jack trudges out of his hiding place to continue his mission.
--
Jack doesn't really expect a second time. He refocuses on more pressing issues - fixing the trees, fighting off splicers, getting drilled in half three or four times while he tries to rescue a Sister. He's pushed the incident out of his mind completely and, in fact, all but forgotten about it as he wakes up in a Vita-chamber for the fourth time in the past half hour. He's about to shoulder open the doors and throw himself at that fucking Daddy again when he hears the distinctive static at his hip.
"Woah there! Slow down for a second, Jackie," Atlas calls out to him. Jack freezes. There's that nickname again...Atlas hadn't used it since - uh, well. Then. Jack swallows hard at the memory that comes flooding back to him. "Why don't you take a moment to yourself before you go gettin' killed again?"
A moment to himself? Could that mean...? Despite himself, Jack is almost giddy at the thought. It makes him sound less than composed when he replies, "What do you mean?"
Atlas chuckles. "Don't worry, boyo, I'll tell you what to do. How's about you lean up against the wall o' that there chamber, to start?"
Jack settles back against the cool glass. He finds himself eager for the next instruction - hoping it's what he thinks it will be.
"Right, now, would you kindly put two fingers in your mouth?" Atlas says sensually. It isn't quite what Jack was hoping for but he sticks his left middle and ring fingers in his mouth anyway. It's lucky Vita-chambers seem to wash him up - his hands aren't currently as filthy as usual. When he experimentally runs his tongue between his fingers, all Jack tastes is skin.
"Here's what I'll be wanting you to do for me, Jackie. Keep that radio close and suck on your fingers," Atlas says smoothly. Jack holds the radio a few inches from his mouth and does as Atlas says. It makes an obscene noise, and Atlas sighs into the receiver. "Good boy. Keep goin' just like that for me." Jack shivers. He can feel his neck starting to flush as he continues to suck on his own digits, running his tongue over, under, between. He's never noticed how sensitive the connection between his fingers is.
It's...oddly arousing. With his hand pressed up against his face like this, Jack can feel his skin heating up, just from this. His hips even stir a little on their own. But then, that could just be the noises it's making and the knowledge that Atlas is listening.
Atlas is making noises of his own - soft, pleased sounds keep slipping from the radio. As if Atlas, too, is deriving pleasure from this. That's a nice thought. In fact, if Jack closes his eyes and lets his back slide down the wall a bit he could almost imagine -
"Mm, that's it, boyo. You're wishin' it was me in your mouth, aren't you?"
Jack's cock jumps. He moans around his fingers and nods feverishly. Atlas gives a wistful sigh.
"Aye, me too. Bet you'd feel so good around me...better than me own damn hand, that's for sure," Atlas breathes. He punctuates the statement with a low groan. God, Atlas really is getting off to this, then. He's sitting in an office somewhere, watching Jack through a security camera and rubbing one out to the thought of Jack sucking him off.
Jack, as a response, hums around his fingers and cants his hips up uselessly. His cock is aching for attention, but the hand that isn't in his mouth is full of radio. Jack presses his thighs together in a futile search for stimulation. Atlas doesn't seem to notice - he's too caught up in his own pleasure. When he speaks again his voice is breathless and lustful.
"You'd be so good, wouldn't you, lad? So open and eager and - hah - willing to let me- ngh. Let me fuck your throat." Jack takes this as a cue to shove his fingers - Atlas's cock - further into his mouth, nearly gagging on them. Atlas huffs a laugh.
"Oh, good- mm...good boy."
Jack's stomach does a little flip. He is really starting to like that particular praise.
Sitting on the glass floor of the Vita-chamber, focusing on Atlas's voice, he lets himself get immersed in the fantasy. Atlas is seated above him, with his thighs on either side of Jack's head. He has a hand in Jack's hair, guiding but not aggressive - it's affectionate, steadying. His other hand is up in front of his own mouth, trying to muffle the noises Jack pulls from him. When Atlas groans into the radio, that's when he's pushing his hips up, getting lost in sensation.
Two fingers are a poor substitute for what Jack is imagining. In his mind, Atlas fills Jack's mouth perfectly. Heavy, hot, pulsing - not so thick that blowing him is overly uncomfortable but thick enough that Jack's jaw will be sore afterward. Deliriously, Jack considers asking Atlas to describe himself so he can see if he's right. Fuck, he hopes he's right.
"You're doin' so good, Jackie, so good. You're- Christ, you...you're gonna make me-" Atlas cuts himself off with a long, shuddering moan. Pushing his tongue harder against his fingers, Jack tries desperately to picture the throb of Atlas's cock when he cums. When Jack makes him cum. That thought draws a whine from his throat, makes his own untouched cock throb hard in his pants. Atlas sighs, collecting himself.
"Nice work. You can go ahead and get a move on now."
Jack whines louder. No no, that wasn't enough, he's still so worked up, he needs something more. Atlas laughs, almost cruelly.
"I said get goin', would you kindly."
JATLAS ORGASM DENIAL YOU SAY? (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2018-05-06 10:43 pm (UTC)(link)The worst (best?) part is that Jack finds himself - despite himself - loving every second of it. He looks forward to every radio call and is literally giddy when they happen (even the ones that are just regular messages - Atlas's voice makes him blush no matter what it's saying).
Knowing he probably won't get to cum doesn't matter, knowing this will just make him more physically frustrated doesn't matter. Hell, even the fact that this whole thing is significantly slowing down his mission doesn't matter as long as Atlas is pleased. Jack wants his orgasm, obviously, but he wants to keep playing this game with Atlas just as much.
By the time he completes the Lazarus Vector, Jack is fucking desperate. He's just fought off, what - twenty? thirty splicers? Hard to keep track. All the while thrumming with leftover arousal, senses just slightly dulled because part of his attention is unwillingly devoted to thinking about it. Probably because Jack was distracted, his gun had been knocked away in the middle of the fight and he'd had to resort to wrench-ing his way through enemies. It was literally too close for comfort and Jack's ended up bloodier and more worn out than usual as a result.
But the Vector is just about deployed now, and Jack's able to take a second to try and calm his racing heartbeat. He leans on both hands over the console, sweat dripping off him as he pants.
The machine dings, and when Jack looks up, the trees outside are already recovering. The radio crackles on as well.
"Well done, lad. Take a deep breath and enjoy it."
Jack does. He's pretty sure the Vector doesn't actually work that fast but it helps calm his breathing.
"Saw you tearin' through those splicers back there. You're a goddamn machine, you know that?" Atlas says fondly. 'Good at Murder' is maybe not a skill Jack should be proud of but it's a compliment from Atlas. He ducks his head and smiles. "Performance like that, I figure, is worthy o' some sort o' reward. Don't you think, Jackie?"
Jack yanks the radio up to his mouth.
"Y-yeah! Yes, Atlas." He's almost past the point of being embarrassed about how his voice cracks in excitement. Almost. Atlas laughs, not unkindly.
"Eager, are we? Can't say I blame you. Go ahead and touch yourself up for me."
It doesn't take much - he rubs himself through his trousers for maybe a minute before he's fully hard again, straining against the fabric.
"Good. Set the radio down in front o' you, then put your hands back on the table and keep 'em there, would you kindly?"
Swallowing hard, Jack does as he's told. No...hands?
"Now, if I'm seein' you right, the edge of that console is at just the right height for you, isn't it, boyo?"
Jack looks down. In this position, the table he's leaning on comes just up to his hips. All at once, he understands, and heat rushes to his face.
"You want me to..." Jack mumbles in the general direction of the radio. Atlas laughs again.
"Hump the table? Yeah, I do. Would you kindly spread your legs a little wider for me?" Jack realizes he doesn't remember where the security camera is in this room, or if there's more than one. It makes it feel like Atlas is watching him from all angles. "There you go, lad. Good boy," Atlas says softly, "Go on, then."
Jack hesitantly rolls his hips forward, sliding his clothed cock over the unyielding metal. A moan tumbles out of him, surprising him. He does it again, harder, and this time his cock twitches and Jack feels warm precum beading up, soaking into the fabric of his pants.
No doubt under normal circumstances this wouldn't get him off. The console is cold and hard and not remotely the right shape to be at all satisfying. But Jack's so pent up - just pressing himself against something, anything, is enough. He feels completely dirty, realizing how he must look, desperately grinding against whatever's nearby.
Jack's pace quickly gets out of control. He's overwhelmed embarrassingly fast - hips bucking wildly, panting hard, hands clutching at the console. It isn't until Jack breathes Atlas's name that the man's voice comes through the radio again.
"Beg for it."
The words flow out of him - just the same ones, over and over, mostly. Please and I can't and I need it and, most of all, Atlas. Soon enough it turns into just please, again and again in time with his wild, shaky thrusts. Jack's head is pounding, he's dizzy and hot and desperate. He's so close but it's like his body won't let him finish. He need's permission, he needs - fuck - he needs Atlas.
"What do you want, Jack?" Atlas says smoothly. Jack moans brokenly and gives the only response he can think of -
"You."
Atlas is quiet for a beat, then barks a laugh.
"Oh, that's real good, that's incredible, boyo," Atlas sounds like he's laughing still but Jack doesn't care - he's good, he did good, incredible, even. Atlas sighs and continues.
"Can't quite give you that one, Jackie, but I think I've got the next best thing. Turn around for me, would you kindly? Use your hands. I want to get a good view of this."
Jack obeys, bracing one hand on the console behind him. He yanks his painfully hard cock out of his pants and throws his head back with a shout as he begins to fuck his own fist.
"Wow, look at you," Atlas breathes, "You're a real mess, aren't you?"
Jack nods dumbly. For you, he thinks, a mess for you. Every one of his muscles is tense, his breathing is arhythmic and rapid, and he can't, he can't-
"Cum for me, Jackie."
Jack sees stars as his long-awaited orgasm hits him, sudden and hard. He means to cry out but he's too breathless and too overwhelmed so he just throws his mouth open with a choked sound. Atlas's voice echoes in his head and all he feels is bliss, bliss, bliss. He rides out his release, pumping his hips indulgently, for as long as he can, which feels like ages.
Slowly, Jack's breathing evens out and he releases the console he'd been white-knuckling with his left hand. His right is, of course, a complete mess. He hastily wipes it off on his sweater, suddenly embarrassed, before tucking himself back into his pants. From the radio behind him, he hears Atlas sigh contentedly.
"Good boy."
--
(hope that wasn't too many of my own kink embellishments op <3 ^^;)