Tiger and Bunny Anon Meme Part 1
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"No, please," he murmurs, in that shadow of a voice that he barely recognizes as his own. "Leave her alone, she's just a girl."
"Show me."
With his larynx nearly crushed, he does as he's told, taking Pao Lin's body, though he imagines clothes for her and they appear on his skin, making Jake erupt into another bout of laughter.
He's so amused that he lets Ivan's nipple go. His mouth splits in a gruesome smile and he says, "Show me Rock Bison."
And now he's Antonio, and Jake hikes his legs up onto those terrifyingly strong shoulders, gripping his hips tight, grinning with all his teeth out like a nightmare vision of a cobra about to strike. Ivan half expects that Jake will simply bite him, deep in his inner thigh, and inject him with poison and leave him to die in this strange desert that smells of wet bandages and dirty rags.
His stomach turns, power nearly exhausted, and he slips back into his true form. He feels his eyes flutter shut and then, like a sword has stabbed into him, Jake's big, vicious gorilla hands grabbing his ass, spreading him wide, thumbs jabbing his skin. Jake brings him down and fucks him.
The world screams in police siren cacophony. Jake claws and bites and skewers him, hips moving at an inhumanly violent speed. And for all that he wishes he could stop, Ivan is incapable of quelling the screams of pain until he is so exhausted, so weary that he can't cry anymore, that he can't tell whether he's up or down anymore. The sky is orange and purple and coyotes are whispering into his ears, and Jake is still fucking him, rock hard.
He wants to be tough, he wants to say that Jake's not much of a man, getting off on hurting another like this.
He hasn't got the strength, hasn't got the words.
Jake grabs him by the throat, folding Ivan's body almost in half to push down and reach it, and hisses, "You forgot one, spy. What's Wild Tiger look like? I remember lots of pissants whining about getting caught by that guy, years ago."
Ivan sobs, cross-eyed with pain that is starting to numb, and Jake squeezes a little harder, coming deep within him.
"I- can't." The colors are starting to fade and as he starts to come crashing down, Ivan is lost in pain and self-pity and regret, so much regret. Just this once, just this once he wanted to do the right thing. Just this once.
Jake's eyes light again with that wicked fire and he shifts his grip, grabbing Ivan's dick. Again, he's gentle-- so gentle, so careful-- and he whispers softly, soothing nothings, stroking until Ivan starts, despite everything, to get hard.
He purrs how Ivan is such a good boy, and when Ivan whimpers at the pain, trembling with fear, Jake strokes his sides, his belly, to calm him.
And oh, god. He hates himself for responding to that touch. He hates himself for feeling happy, feeling-- good when Jake tells him he is good.
He tries to straighten out his chaotic thoughts. "I- But, I-"
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The litany sinks into his mind, like a soothing balm. Unconsciously, Ivan feels himself repeating back parts of it. "--good boy," he breathes, nodding, feeling his eyelids getting heavy again with exhaustion and lust.
"It feel so good," Jake tells him, almost conversationally, speeding the strokes of his hand. "Just to submit, and obey for me. You want to do that for me, don't you, Ivan? You want to submit."
"Submit," he agrees brokenly.
"You want to feel good."
"Please," he whispers, sobbing softly. "Please--"
"Show. Me. Wild Tiger," Jake hisses, squeezing so hard that it hurts, but Ivan's coming, and it hurts and it feels good but it hurts and it burns and his hips buck and he screams, but his mind is desperate for approval, and his body shimmers and the form that Jake is defiling on the floor is not Ivan Karelin, but Kotetsu Kaburagi.
The concentration necessary to keep this shape is dizzying, astronomical; he gasps for breath, chest heaving as Jake purrs, tracing lines along his ribs, his stomach, his hips.
"Good," Jake says at last, when Ivan is teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, oblivion. "Good boy, IVan. You did a good job."
And he hates himself for the pleasure that comes of those words, the belief that he has done well that undermines his knowledge that he has failed, utterly.
"Sleep now," Jake murmurs, now right with his lips on Ivan's ear, cradling him gently to that bare, tattooed chest. "Sleep, Ivan. Sleep. I'm going to use you a little more before you die."
"Yes," he breathes, knowing in his heart that trying to deny it would prove nothing, anyway.
Jake strokes his bloodstained hair. "Good boy."
A!Anon also thought about doing this fill a different way. Might try that too. Hope this isn't too dark for OP's tastes!
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oh, and: ivaaaaaaan ;__;
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anon is terribly worried that killing is not the worst thing Jake might do to Ivan.
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and this anon is entertaining the same thoughts. ;__;
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Though I wouldn't mind it if you give it another try. But I may have to give you my soul if you do.
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I may do it then! I'll see if I have it in me to do such mean things to Ivan twice. I- I don't know if I can!
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