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.

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Vault-Tec Industries
Pip-Boy Model 3000
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∙ Why why why do I always get dragged to the Gomorrah?

[C:GP_10_02.exe
Play attached video file? y/n\

"There were five of them, but they must have pumped half the Mojave's supply of psycho into their veins before we found them," Betsy said before finishing her drink. "They nearly castrated Bitter-Root for good measure."

"Shut up; I don't want to remember that part," said the man in question, making a disgusted face. He looked around the room, which was packed with people. Most notable were the barely-clad strippers meandering around.

"Why are you recording this, exactly?" Betsy asked as she looked into the camera.

"Treasured memories," Veronica replied. "And blackmail."

"In that case," Gorobets started as he picked up the camera and pointed it at his own face. "I did not want to come here, Milly. But I have to make sure the kids don't get into trouble."

"No one wanted to go here," Layla said, sounding annoyed. "Except for Veronica and Betsy."

"Please," Veronica said. "Everyone but you wants to be here. Gorobets is just saving face with his wife and Boone's just trying to impress you by not looking at other girls’ asses."

"Boone!?" Betsy laughed. "Boone is almost as much of a girl scout as Layla is. He gets flustered if a girl smiles at him, never mind if they shake their tits in his face.

“Did I ever tell you about the time in New Reno when we had to do surveillance on the drug ring that operated out of that adult film studio?"

"Wait, you've been to the Golden Globes?" Layla cried, looking in Boone's direction.

"Where did that camera come from?" the sniper asked suddenly.

"It's Michael Angelo's," Veronica answered. "Now what’s this about a porn studio? Let me guess, your screen name is Craig Boner."

"More research?" Boone asked, ignoring the scribe.

"Actually, yes, and you would NOT believe what happened," Layla answered.

"I don't know if it'd be more entertaining than when Boone and I had to help chase down the Golden Globes headliner when the rangers moved in to arrest him... in the middle of a shoot," Sterling said, getting a glare from the younger man.

"It actually is," Veronica said, getting the group's attention. "Terry asked us to go loo-"

There was a burst of static, then the picture cut out. After a few seconds of black screen, the image returned.

"Are you going to look at the rest of the t-t-t-tapes?" Jack of Spades asked. The rest of 1st Recon appeared riveted by the story.

"Well... we have them," Veronica said. "I guess we might as well check them out before we give them back."

"Sounds like you ought to leave well enough alone," Sterling said. "You'll get nightmares."

"Too late," Layla said. "Might as well finish them." She looked troubled for a moment, then yawned. “Are you guys all leaving tonight?"

"Sterling and I are getting a couple hours of sleep at the embassy,” Gorobets said. “Then we’ve got a caravan to catch. In fact, we’d better get moving.”

“What about the rest of you?” the courier asked.

“We’re not heading out until tomorrow morning,” Betsy said.

“You can stay at the 38, if you want,” Layla offered.

“Great! We can wat-t-t-t-tch some of those tapes!” Jack of Spades replied.

“Oh, great,” Betsy grumbled.

The tape ended.

Vault-Tec Industries
Pip-Boy Model 3000
User Log Entry

∙ So, we’ve decided to watch a few more tapes; Spades and Bitter-Root are all excited.

[C:GP_10_03.exe
Play attached video file? y/n\

“See? Just remember, green means it’s on, red means it’s recording.”

“Okay,” Terry said, looking intently at something off screen. “So it’s on?” He smiled at the camera, revealing a straight, if not slightly yellowed row of teeth.

“Hello, Mojave.”

“Ham,” said Michael Angelo from off-camera, and Terry started laughing.

“Pot calling the kettle black! Now give me that thing.”

The picture shifted and spun around. The artist’s face came into view, giving the camera a somewhat surly expression.

“Be careful with that,” he said. “It’s tough, but not indestructible.”

“I’ll be very careful,” Terry said soothingly as he started walking through the building. He pointed the camera at the neon signs strewn about in various levels of completion. “So what am I getting again?”

“I’ve got this idea to make a farm sign. Like, a neon, rural, juxtaposition kind of thing. So I need shots of some of the old homesteads around outer Vegas.”

“I see…” Terry said, focusing the camera on Michael Angelo’s assistant as she bent over to retrieve a pencil she’d dropped. “Why don’t you look over some old books?” he asked the other man. “You’re going to get a lot better pictures there; the farms around here are all blown out or decrepit.”

“I want to see it from both angles, it’s part of the motif: Greener Pastures.”

“Artsy-fartsy,” Terry laughed.

“Well I am an artist,” the other man sniffed. “So, when are you going to leave?”

“Soon; I’ll probably get something to eat an-”

The tape ended.

Vault-Tec Industries
Pip-Boy Model 3000
User Log Entry

∙ Apparently this wasn’t interesting enough for the others; they fell asleep pretty quick. Veronica, Boone and I are probably going to finish the tapes tomorrow once they’re gone.

Vault-Tec Industries
Pip-Boy Model 3000
User Log Entry

∙ We found something kind of disturbing on one of the tapes. None of them are marked (as usual), but this was the next one we grabbed.

[C:GP_11.exe
Play attached video file? y/n\

“I don’t mind telling you that I’m a little freaked out,” Terry said as the video started. He appeared to be walking down a set of stairs. Not much was visible beyond the glow of a flashlight.

“The door to this basement was covered by a rug and a coffee table,” he continued in a whisper. “I don’t know how long it’s been since anyone’s been in this old farmhouse, never mind down here… At least I HOPE no one’s been down here recently. This is the kind of place cannibals do their home canning in.”

He reached up to a light fixture on the ceiling and pulled the cord hanging from it.

“… Oh.”

The light that flooded the room blurred the video. Once it corrected itself, Terry panned the camera around the room. It was, for the most part, empty. There was little more than a filth-covered table and chair in the far corner. More notably were the walls, which were covered in copies of the same symbol, a circle with an ‘x’ through it.

“Oooookay, getting out of here now,” Terry said, turning and starting back up the stairs.

The video cut out for a few moments, then returned. The camera was set on the floor; Terry could be seen dragging a coffee table over a rug with considerable effort.

“I think I’ve had juuuust about enough exploring around here,” Terry said as he finished moving the table. “Some things are better left unknown. You know?”

He stood, brushing his hands on his pants. A slamming noise could be heard off-camera, and Terry looked up.

“Oh, hey I was… SHIT!” he cried, backing up. Someone in dark clothing suddenly rushed into the shot, leaping at Terry as the picture distorted and froze.

A moment later the video cut out, and the sounds of struggling could be heard. The bang of a gunshot was followed by a wail. The sound of the cry distorted, then grew very loud before the sound cut out.

The video came back, still distorted. Terry seemed to still be fighting off the dark figure.

There was a loud, shrill burst of static, and the video ended.

Vault-Tec Industries
Pip-Boy Model 3000
User Log Entry

∙ Veronica and I never found that basement. I’m pretty sure I recognize the upper floor; it’s the second farmhouse, the one near the overturned silo.

∙ I don’t know who attacked Terry, but Veronica saw something I missed.

[C:GP_011.exe
#play=05m01s
Play attached video file? y/n

“Oh, hey I was… SHIT!” he cried, backing up. Someone in dark clothing suddenly rushed into the shot, leaping at Terry as the picture distorted and froze.

A moment later the video cut out, and the sounds of struggling could be heard. The bang of a gunshot was followed by a wail. The sound of the cry distorted, then grew very loud before the sound cut out.

The video came back, still distorted. Terry seemed to still be fighting off the dark figure.

[playback=paused; back=0m05sec; %150mag; pause]

Terry clutched the dark figure’s shirt and its hands were grasping toward him. Its face was covered by a hockey mask.

Vault-Tec Industries
Pip-Boy Model 3000
User Log Entry

∙ I can’t be completely certain, but I’m pretty sure that’s the same mask Terry was wearing when he attacked us.

I’m, um, with Pepper now.

What?

I’m sorry I—… I just…

…You’re such a fucker Herman, I can’t believe it sometimes.

I know.

You know?

Yeah.

What about me? Hm? You think about me at all?

…

Fine. Just—fine. Why don’t you give Pepper a big kiss for me, eh Manny?

“Well?”

Herman blinks, looks up from his blank report and into burning blue. The black that is smeared elegantly around Kate’s eyes makes her look vaguely cat-like.

Her smile, however, is eerily lupine.

“Uh—hm?” He splutters out lamely, eyes darting between her gaze and her opened vault suit collar. He can see a swell of breast from beneath the white of her tank top, modest but firm. “What?”

“Hah. You remind me of someone, Manny.” She gives a short bark of laughter at her own horrible joke, pinching her cigarette between her fingers as she squints on a drag. “I’m wondering, Officer, if I’m in trouble.”

“Oh.” He swallows, his blood thrumming and his heart jittering about in anxiety from this girl before him.

Herman had been in the diner refilling his coffee earlier this evening when he got the staticky report that some kids were seen acting suspiciously around the storage room door.

Usually an officer would just send Andy over to ruin the mood and force the kids to leave from fear of a malfunctioning Mr. Handy. Though it was always different after curfew, and especially since the kids seen entering the storage room had parents or relatives in the Security department.

Herman had accompanied Officers O’Brian and Park to Storage, the collar on his armor tight and hot from memories of his last visit here.

He hadn’t seen Kate much after… that encounter—she stopped coming over for dinners and study sessions after graduation. Pepper’s devastated, of course; she keeps trying to call Doc’s apartment for visits and smiles, for loud laughter and sparkling eyes. Herman stops her, of course. He doesn’t think he can handle being in the same room with Kate and Pepper.

Herman knew before he’d even entered the key-code to the Storage room that the kids must be having their own private celebration for Amata’s birthday. He could hear the old—supposedly broken—jukebox playing softly amongst laughter and scattered chatter.

Upon entering the room Herman instinctually scanned the gathering of suddenly panicked faces for Freddie’s. He wasn’t hard to find—he was making a big show of spitting out a beer in shock of seeing his father standing in the door way, the amber liquid spewing all over Peggy Wolfe’s leg beside him.

It hadn’t taken long to clear the room with Park and O’Brian to help—they barked and shooed at the fleeing kids until one girl started crying for fear of arrest.

Herman didn’t exactly approve of frightening the kids in order to lay down the law, especially not with the two Officer’s present doing the job.

In fact, Herman seemed to recall a time when Officer Park had huffed nearly half a can of the vault’s hallucinogenic of choice, air freshener, at Pepper’s sixteenth birthday party. Long time ago, but the irony is still fresh in Herman’s mind.

It was when the room was empty, save for Herman, that he heard it: a muffled giggle cut off by a choking gurgle, followed by the very distinct sound of a body hitting against the solid vault wall.

He had realized then, with sudden clarity, that he hadn’t seen Kate or Butch amongst the group of the graduated class—even when Paul Hannon and Wally Mack had been seen bolting out before the rest of the crowd.

It took but a moment to find them huddled behind a stack of crates, a dim glow of light from a dying fluorescent highlighting Butch’s bared teeth and Kate’s quickly reddening face.

Butch had her pinned against the wall with his hand wrapped so tightly around her throat that Herman could see the whites of his knuckles.

Herman has Butch slamming into a crate before he can think to speak, to call out to stop—maybe DeLoria would’ve if… no, he wouldn’t have—he’s just like his mother.

“What the fuck?” Butch cries, instinctually bucking and thrashing against the larger body that pushes and holds him down on the floor. “Get off me man!”

Herman can’t keep himself from forcing his knee into Butch’s spine, wrenching a huffed groan from the young man beneath him as Kate’s cough’s and gasps sound behind him.

His anger seizes, however, when Butch jerks his head back and fixes Herman with a look so coldly familiar that Herman’s heart skips a beat.

Come on, Manny sweetheart, you ain’t messin’ with just any DeLoria…

It hadn’t taken long to get Kate back to the Security office, merely telling Park that he should escort Butch DeLoria to his apartment while Herman volunteered to walk the Doc’s kid home. No suspicion, just a simple nod—Herman nearly had a panic attack, anyway.

Sorry for this short little post, character limit kills me.

“Yes, Kate, I think you are.” Herman replies, as firmly as he can manage, and begins to sharpen his pencil. He looks up briefly with a squint, trying to work out if her wild, dilated eyes are because of the late hour, alcohol, or drugs. “As far as I can tell, you’re under the influence, out after hours, and were in possession of alcohol when I found you.”

“Come on, vodka doesn’t count Manny.” She swings her legs up onto the table between them, crossing her booted feet with a plucky bounce. “Neither does Fresh Pep, it’s technically a household appliance—,”

“Officer Gomez.” He corrects lamely, falling quiet when she looks up at him in surprise.

“Oh cut the shit, Manny.” She sneers acidly, making him wince as he breaks the tip of his pencil on the first letter of her name on his report.

In a quick move Kate leans across the table, snatching the pencil from his hands and slamming it into the table loudly. Herman jumps when it snaps in half.

“Off the record, hm?” She smiles sweetly at him, the smoke curling from her mouth smelling like candy. “I’ll tell you all my dirty secrets.”

The prospect gives him pause, his racing thoughts preventing him from flinching against the broken pencil splinters that Kate childishly throws at him. “Will you?”

She too seems to consider that offer for a moment, probably thinking of the ways she can weave him further into her grasp; she will never truly let him into her head, of course, even Herman’s slow mind can gather that. He can’t possibly imagine what she will say, however—if she will even answer his questions. Is this a game? Or is she trying to help him figure something out?

Watching her now, twirling a strand of hair around her finger with her eyes all but branding him, he can’t help but feel like he is missing something dire.

“Tell me, Kate—anything.” He leans forward with the hushed plea, his eyes openly searching hers as cherry smoke burns his eyes.

She laughs lightly, an unsettling trill that sends a spike of warmth to his heart, and rolls her ankle in a stretch.

Kate’s eyes lift to his. “I’ve been a bad, bad girl…”

Herman swallows as he holds her intense gaze, a shiver running through him as a drop of sweat tickles down his neck.

She gives his entire being a once-over, nose scrunching in disgust as she flicks her ashes onto the floor. “I’ve been careless with a delicate man.”

“Kate.” Herman warns, his visible anger drawing merriment to the darkness of her eyes. “You forget who you’re talking to, young lady.”

“Oh?” She challenges strongly, letting her feet fall loudly to the ground as she leans across the table as well. “What, you aren’t going to tell my daddy, are you?”

“Maybe I will.” He says, clenching his fists to keep from snatching her up by the hair and dragging her across the table. “That’s what you deserve.”

“Hm.” She smirks thoughtfully, large eyes flying about in their observation of his face. Herman wonders just how high she is. He can smell the chemicals on her breath.

“Well Manny, if you tell...” She pauses, fixing him with that familiar frightening stare as grey smoke swirls from her nostrils like an imp. “I’ll tell.”

Herman swallows pathetically, his heart jumping irregularly in fear at the very idea. Pepper’s face, young and happy and in love, is suddenly in his mind.

“You’re disgusting.” He whispers, eyes staring into the nothingness beyond her as she slinks gracefully out of her seat to walk about the room thoughtfully. “Don’t you… care?”

“Care?” She snorts. “About what? Care about you, Manny old boy?”

“About your reputation.” He mumbles, fighting back the painfully sore lump in his throat and the overwhelming terror of what this young woman has done to his life, about what he has done… “You’re stuck here, you know. You think you can live with the whole vault, your father and friends, judging you and hating you?”

Kate is silent, so sure in her step that Herman briefly thinks that she has left him. He goes to turn his head, though the heated breath puffing along his jaw from within the darkness behind him freezes his bones in their sockets.

Instinctual fear prickles up his spine as he feels a sharp canine prick at his skin when she presses her lips to the shelf of his jaw.

“Ellen DeLoria manages…” She hisses, her tongue wet and seething against him. “Doesn’t she, Manny?”

Shock jolts Herman heavily, his mouth bobbing open in confusion for a moment before he gasps out a breath of horror. His throat is tight, too tight, and he can see a different shade of blue eyes in his mind now—not Pepper’s lovely gray, not Kate’s brilliant sapphire...

Sky blue. Outraged, shamed, hateful sky blue.

“Mmm…” Kate purrs, running her hands down his chest from behind his back. “You seem tense, Officer Gomez.”

Herman chokes on words that threaten to spill—I didn’t mean to, I didn’t know what to do, I still care. His heart palpitates in such thunderous, precise throbs that he feels light-headed and nauseous. He feels as weak and gray as Pepper, and suddenly he understands what it feels like to be crushed under a presence so malicious and gargantuan.

Kate kisses the corner of his open lips, her fingers walking themselves cheekily down the length of his vault-suit-zipper until she grasps a possessive handful of his groin. Herman gasps at the ready reaction from his body, almost instantaneous, and Kate groans in his ear at the feel of him.

“Say, Mr. Gomez…” She muses in a hush, removing his security armor with one hand and boldly groping his awakening cock with the other. “I’ve been wondering about something…”

Herman sighs miserably as his hands begin to aid her in the removal of his uniform—he shuts his eyes as she slips her hand into his undershorts and begins to stroke his penis with a tightly wound fist.

“Do you ever think of me when you’re fucking her?” She taunts in a breath laced with smoke.

Images of strangling this girl until she’s blue and stiff flashes behind Herman’s closed eyes before he moves into action. Though he is not as fast as her, he is strong enough to have her body thrown onto the table with a slam so loud it nearly makes him wince.

Her head must’ve hit the table in the process, for he can see the way her eyes roll about in a dazed state as she slumps, momentarily helpless, against the table before him.

Herman’s heart aches in concern, though part of him hopes she’s hurt—that she’ll show up on her father’s doorstep with a bruised face.

He wastes no time in reaching beneath her to unzip her jumpsuit, ripping her tank-top when he catches the zipper clumsily on the white fabric.

When she is stripped of her cotton white underwear he presses his erection flush against her backside, roughly grinding himself there as he leans over her body.

She is coming to, her pupils exploding from drugs and arousal as she looks up back at him. “Right here, then?”

Herman presses a kiss to her bare shoulder as he slowly presses himself against her wet heat, grunting out a strained breath as the head of his cock finally pushes through the tightness of her entrance.

His sigh shudders from the feeling of her strength and youth, a tightness to her that he hasn’t felt since his younger days with Pepper. She is muscle and sin and heat around him, and he can’t help the way his forehead falls to rest between her shoulder blades.

“Oh.” Is what she breathes when he slowly pushes himself further inside her. He leans back to watch the inches disappear, the very image making his cock throb with each thundering beat of his heart.

“Hold still.” He rasps, his hands flying desperately to steady her jumping hips. Herman holds her down into the table, pushing his hips forward until the tip of him is pressed against her back wall.

“Oh God…” She whines into her folded arms, her powerful thighs managing to fold around his hips to press her heels into his backside until she is hissing in pain from the pressure of his cock. “You’re in my fucking stomach, Manny.”

He growls lowly in concentration, holding her hips in place as he pulls himself slowly out of the tight heat of her before thrusting lazily back in.

You have no idea how hard you're ticking every single one of my boxes, a!a. Seriously good sexy/wrong stuff.

Craig Boner. Absolutely perfect, A!A.

Scary!! And I love the disjointed way you are telling the story! Awesome.
Now I have to reread several times looking for clues. :)

Nothing in the world gets me going more than desk sex. You are just magnificent A!a.

This is awesomely sexy :D Please continue

*cries* *grabby hands* *flails*
i just.... i just love this so much.
*uncontrollable weeping*

OMG, I love Cass and Ghost here! I love Ghost so am very glad to see her getting some lovin'! Thank you!

tags: character:scribe_yearling, character:scribe_jameson, relationship:femslash

Sometimes you get really lucky in such a small community

---
Yearling and Jameson had found themselves tangled and twisted in each other. They kept hidden at first, disguised their closeness as professional and all-business. Yearling was quiet, even to Bigsley. Her own best friend couldn't confirm or deny a relationship between the two women. When he was approached by Elder Lyons, he was perfectly honest. She's never said anything to me. Though Lyons suspected otherwise, he left it at that. Scribe Jameson was Yearling's direct superior and a good fifteen years her senior. Lyons had seen the way they looked at each other, their wide smiles and brilliant eyes. He didn't have time to police love affairs, though he told Rothchild to keep an eye on the two.

Yearling was bright and passionate. Jameson had admired her vigor, admired her dedication to even the most mundane chore of organizing microfilms. The older scribe gave her specialized tasks and took personal interest in Yearling's duties. She was surprised when the young woman, freckled and sunburned, seduced her in the Great Hall over bottles of water. Yearling started with coy flirtations, complimenting the older woman's silver locks. A shy hand twirled a small piece before leaning closer to the flustered scribe. Jameson hadn't considered her until that moment when their voices shifted to quiet whispers. When their lips connected—soft, wet, and sweet—they wrapped around each other like vines.

The first few nights together, they spoke more than they touched. Story-telling took over, but there were still light brushes of their hands, a meeting of their knees as they sat side-by-side. They didn't make love until a month later. A late night in the archives turned into a later night in Jameson's room. Yearling kissed and licked up and down Jameson's stocky figure. A bite into her thick thighs. A harsh suck into her fleshy waist. She was inexperienced but eager to meet the older woman's smooth skin. Jameson, purely smitten, latched her mouth between Yearling's legs and brought her to a hard orgasm. She clenched around Jameson's face, crying out her name--Elizabeth! They spent hours with hands and mouths roaming, exploring, always discovering something new.

As the years went on, things became more complicated. Some of it politics and some of it—well, no it was all politics. It was always the mission of the Brotherhood, their advancement and growth. Rothchild and Yearling began to clash, their personalities had never meshed well. Yearling had become more defiant to the man, ignoring his orders to do things to her own liking. Jameson tried to soothe the Head Scribe's growing frustration, but in the end it did nothing. Yearling was sent to the Arlington Library, out of sight and out of mind. The younger woman's relocation was merely a hiccup in her relationship with Jameson.

They sent letters back in forth, hidden in paperwork and holotapes. There were personal messages sealed with kisses. There were also interesting articles they found or an old world wedding announcement they would laugh over. On the nights they could meet, it was a chorus of gasps and moans. Hungry mouths on sweaty skin. Jameson would push Yearling against the wall, one hand on her breast and one sliding up and down between her lips, stroking her wet clit. Yearling would fight the buckling of her knees with her fingernails scratching across Jameson's scalp. They barely made time to rest or breathe, too busy fucking each other speechless and falling in love over and over again.

Their hearts never unfurled from one another's grasp, even when their work was overwhelming and never-ending. Long silences never chilled their passion—it was understood. And when they would begin to speak again, it was as if they never stopped at all.

----

kind of cheesy, but I hope you enjoy!

you make me feel soo good

I was hoping for robosmut but thanks for posting anyway!

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Page 196 of 257

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

Greener Pastures (10c/?)

Greener Pastures (10d/?)

Greener Pastures (10e/?)

Greener Pastures (10f/?)

Greener Pastures (10g/?)

Greener Pastures (11a/?)

Greener Pastures (11b/?)

Greener Pastures (11c/?)

Greener Pastures (11d/?)

Greener Pastures (11e/?)

Criminal 5a/?

Criminal 5a(2)/?

Criminal 5b/?

Criminal 5c/?

Criminal 5d/?

Re: Criminal 5d/?

Re: Greener Pastures (11e/?)

Re: Greener Pastures (11e/?)

Re: Criminal 5d/?

Re: "Restraint" 2/? Ranger Ghost/Cass femslash

Re: Criminal 5d/?

Re: "Restraint" 2/? Ranger Ghost/Cass femslash

"Scribes" 1/1 femslash

Re: Criminal 5d/?

OP here