falloutkinkmeme_backup | Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.

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Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.

Welcome to the Fallout Kink Meme, Part IV! Please assume the position.

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This is perfect. It's amazing how much you pack into only a few paragraphs.

...oh wow. Fantastic start, can't wait for more!

Oh my gosh.
This beautiful. So sweet, and yet so sad. I love it. I absolutely love it. Your writing style is flawless, anon. Thank you for posting; I thoroughly enjoyed reading this! :)

Aw, thank you! Glad you liked it. :)

Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it. :3

Thank you! :D

A B C D E F G H I actually like the Glenn Miller version better, but there's nothing to dislike about the Andrew Sisters version :3

The little details are what hooked me on this. Courier's backstory, Arcade reading westerns ... those gave the story some weight, if that makes sense? I was going to skip this story because of the pairing but I'm glad I gave it a chance! Great work.

I was going to skip this story because of the pairing but I'm glad I gave it a chance!

Thank you for overlooking the coupling! I was worried no one would want to read this because I paired a female courier with Arcade (I'm not big on preference play, myself). Thanks for taking a chance and thanks for the compliment!

OP here! I'm very glad you saw the prompt and couldn't resist, because this is awesome :D

I really enjoyed all the fruit eating detail, and Arcade being a total tease for a frustrated m!Courier. Excellent stuff - thank you so much anon writer!

Love. Love. Love. Love drunk Boone. Love the end. Boone danced on.

thank you!

I heart this so hard! Double entendre intended. Holy crap, so so hot, and so so angsty. I might melt.

thank you!

So beautiful.

Excuse me while I dry my eyes.

ASHFSHDHJJSDHF-

"I have the finely sculpted legs of a man forced to walk across the desert carrying a bag full of guns every time the Courier thinks she sees something shiny..."

Oh my god what even I do not how

A!A I'm in love with you.

A!A is beaming her face off. Thank you OP! <333

I think YOU are amazing. <3

Love,
A!A

P.S. Thank you!!

She is a pretty naughty girl. Imagine what her decisions would be like in the wasteland? Yikes.

Love,
A!A

Anon, I must confess that I have watched you from afar and my love for you has grown into this bursting, weeping rose of a thing. You must marry me this bloody instant!

Love,
A!A

P.S. Thank you so much <33

QUICK, SOMEONE GIVE THAT ANON SOME SEXY CPR!

Thank you, by the way. <3

Love,
A!A

She’s always on the edge of his thoughts.

His questions—all of them—are unending in their desperation and number; at his desk, on patrol, at dinner (when she isn’t sitting across the table from him, her socked toes brushing up and down his shin). He feels stupid and sluggish for not knowing what this girl is doing, for not understanding why he isn’t standing up for himself and his marriage.

Nothing has happened, of course. No. She merely makes eyes at him when no one is looking, touches him chastely beneath tables and in passing glances. She is toying with him and that’s what he hates the most. Because it’s working.

He hates her deeply, for she knows that he is married, knows that he loves Pepper and his son with all his heart. She knows that Freddie is mad for her; Kate can see it as well as anyone on the outside can, no matter how much she deflects his weak advances.

Yet she persists with Herman; Kate is always there when his thoughts drift to her—in the diner, around the corner, passing by the Security office with Amata, that darkly lupine look in her eyes.

Herman wonders why, why this good girl suddenly found an interest in him; a married and very much older man. He’s her father’s age, God damn it, and that only serves to spur her on more.

He wants to burn the images of Kate from his head, the ones he has conjured for himself in darker moments. He wants to only see Pepper in his mind—like he used to not so many years ago.

Now Pepper fades to grey even when beneath him at night, her breath in his ear and her body seething and pliant around him.

Herman began to think about Kate in those times, about how much stamina resides in those young muscles, of how she seems poured into her vault suit instead of stuffed in, of how her smile is real and huge and happy…

He has followed her tonight, waiting until she left Freddie and Amata at the diner before falling in behind her through the winding vault halls—he began taking the night patrols in a desperate attempt to avoid her ever-watching eyes during the day. It doesn’t work for long; Pepper blabs about his change in shift over Kate’s 18th birthday dinner at the Doc’s apartment.

Herman remembers Kate’s expression so clearly: the look in her eyes was so amused and heated and… predatory. They are the eyes he sees at night, when his wife is shivering beneath him.

He momentarily loses sight of Kate when she takes an unexpected turn towards the stairs leading down to the… is she going towards the Storage Room?

There is a brief moment, as he is ducking under the door and punching in the lock-code, that he wonders what he is planning to do with her.

To finally take her like she has been leading him to do? He wants to, desperately, to get the dirt and grime of her from his mind.

To confront her? He should, he wants that too, because he is tired. So tired of being confused and disgusted by the girl, by himself; of wondering what she wants from him and what will happen if he gives it to her.

To… Hurt her? He hates it, but yes, he wants that as well. She has hurt him, too deeply to say, and she will hurt Freddie. His son.

Herman’s hands shake as he squints in the darkness, his skin seeming to ripple over his strained muscles from anxiety and fear and anger—he is too on edge, has been ever since the dinner she…—

…can’t hear her footsteps any longer.

“Officer Gomez?”

Herman nearly yelps from fright, spinning on his heel with his hand instinctually going to his nightstick. He cannot see, not at first, for the voice came from the back of the storage room.

It’s her, he knew, of course. Her voice is distinct in its natural projection, in the rasp that makes his toes curl, in the constant underlying taunt in her tone.

He could just strangle her, throttle her, make her scream… He wants her, all of her at once because it’s dark and hot in this damn storage room and he can see the challenge in her eyes from here, even as he stumbles on his way over to her.

“What brings you down here?” She asks casually, lowering what looks like… A gun? “Another change in shift?”

“I…” He’s a few paces in front of Kate, her face becoming clearer now that he’s closer to her pip-boy light. It’s hot, too hot for his uniform, and he can see that her cheeks are delightfully pink and her sweaty hair is pulled back into a ponytail. “You’re…”

“Oh, don’t mind me.” She sighs, turning from him dismissively with an air of what feels like haughty disappointment. She sets the gun—most likely a toy, from the sound of its light weight—on an empty crate, keeping her back to him as she strokes her fingers along the barrel. “I go down here all the time. I even kill a few radroaches every once and a while; keeps the vault safer in my opinion.”

He frowns at her back before looking about the room, his mind too muddled to immediately find the targets directly across from his stance. They are weathered, very obviously abused by bullets frequently. He can tell even from his distance that she’s a crack-shot.

“That’s illegal, Kate.” He mumbles stupidly, turning to her as she inclines her head very slightly over her shoulder.

“Mm.” She hums, a bit of rattling catching Herman off guard as she fiddles with her gun.

“Is that a… BB-Gun?” He squints at the gun on the crate, studying the grinning cowboy branded into the stock. “Where’d you get that—?”

“There are other questions you’d rather ask.” She interrupts impatiently, whirling quickly on her heel until she’s facing him with accusing eyes, her back resting against the crates. “That’s why you followed me here, right?”

There is a flash of anger in him, cutting so deep that he nearly crosses the room and backhands her like the child she is. He pauses a few steps away from her, though, glaring into her insolent stare with restraint laced cautiously in his joints.

“A few.” He replies quietly, enjoying the small shiver he sees run through her spine.

They stare at one another for a moment, Kate chafing the rubber of her sneakers against one another in loud squeaks, Herman clenching and un-clenching his fists as he fights to pick the most appropriate question first.

Instead he begins to feel stupid in his helmet.

He yanks it off angrily, grunting in frustration when he forgets the buckles tucked under his chin, but it’s only a short pause in the removal before he lets it fall loudly to the ground.

His hair is sweaty and out of style, so he messes it up further with furious hands, working his jaw as he watches her eyes follow his hands with interest. He feels his resolve break when he meets her eyes.

…Herman decides he doesn’t want to know much. At least, not right now.

“I just…” He mutters brokenly, for she can already see the decision in his eyes. “Why me?”

Kate looks up at him as he drags himself pathetically to her, the triumph burning so vividly in her eyes that he is nearly sick.

ASDFGHJKL:

WHY HIM KATE?

Jesus, this is so good. You are a wordsmith. <3 <3 <3

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*cough*

you, anon, are a delight on this planet.

NO AND I LOVE YOU <3

I'm kind of peeved that this doesn't have more comments, because it was really good.

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Page 190 of 257

Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.

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