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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Principles war with affection until finally, with a groan, he turns around. “Fine. You may wish to engage a Stealth Boy, and I will retreat to the dining room.”

“I love you so much…” she murmurs, a grin stretching across her features as she pulls out a Stealth Boy. Strapping the device to her wrist, she presses the button to activate its field, bending light waves about her form. Now little more than a ripple in the air, she pulls a screwdriver from the front pocket of her trousers. Carefully angling the bobby pin into the lock, she jimmies the screwdriver into position, slowly twisting until she feels the click of tumblers sliding into place. The entire process is quickly done; little more time spent than if she had the key in hand. With one last peek down both sides of the hallway, she cracks the door open and eases her way in. Checking to make sure there is both a handle and a lock on the inside (and keenly aware that even her reputation with the Brotherhood won’t relieve her from any pointed questions if she locks herself inside), she shuts it behind her.

She taps the light on for her Pip-Boy, letting the pale white glow illuminate the darkened closet. It is little more than a cubby, narrow walls lined with metal shelves filled with boxes. Out of curiosity, she pulls one of the boxes out. There is no lid, so what greets her eyes are—

Penises. Of every shape, size, and color, including several not found in nature. In shock and wonder, she reaches in, pulling out a neon blue phallus with a ridged base. Then, battling between an entirely inappropriate giggle and a desire for more research—purely for science, of course—she sets it back, pulling out another one. This one is of some soft, pink rubber-like material, wobbling in her grip and swaying like some sort of obscene dancer. A little closer examination shows that there is a dial near the bottom, and she twists it to the side, curious to see what happens.

Bzz!

Nearly dropping it in shock, it takes only a few moments for Jinx to realize the potential of her new discovery. And from the dust gathered about, none of these have seen any use in quite a while, so she feels no guilt in rummaging about for the best finds. She figures she can always ask Sarah why on earth the Brotherhood feels the need to keep a closet full of sex toys (because if they have been throwing orgies, she certainly hasn’t gotten any invitations), but it is far more fun to simply explore. Judging by the lack of any inventory sheet, she bets she can pretty much waltz out with whatever catches her fancy. Fortunately, there are designs beyond the basic phallus to catch her attention.

Of course, not all the prewar technology is quite up to snuff; she immediately discards any objects that feel tacky or sticky to the touch, like ancient chemicals are slowly leaching through cheap synthetic material. She also quickly rules out anything that she cannot easily stuff in her pack—a restriction, alas, that forces her to leave behind an interesting looking chair in one corner of the room, all smooth lines and oiled rocking mechanism.

Still… she finds more than enough intriguing items to make it worthwhile. Treasure trove hidden away in her pack, she sneaks out again, careful to relock the door behind her.

. . .

There is mischief in her eyes and a spring in her step when she rejoins Fawkes in the Brotherhood canteen. A passing initiate nearly chokes on his coffee as Jinx flings herself at the super mutant, kissing behind his ear and running her tongue over its outer shell, lightly biting the tender lobe between her teeth.

“You’re in a good mood,” he says softly, stroking his hand down her back. His thumb grazes over the wing-like bones of her scapula before tracing the gentle curve of her spine.

She makes a soft ‘mhm,’ but refuses to say anything else about her discovery until they are safely out of the confines of the Citadel. Fawkes has learned to read her moods by now, like words on the wind—ever changing, but still visible to a careful observer. Her eyes gleam wickedly, a playful smirk dancing about the corners of her mouth as she says goodbye to her friends in the Brotherhood. Gallows goes out of his way to apologize for Bael’s behavior, giving Fawkes a firm clasp on the forearm in a gesture more brotherly than a simple handshake.

When they leave, Jinx’s gait is loose-limbed and easy, hips swaying as if about to burst into dance at any moment. It’s the kind of thing that used to frustrate him, back when they first met—never quite able to understand the blurred boundaries she holds between friendship and intimacy—but now it frustrates him in an entirely different way. Laughing and innocent, but still moving like she is trying to incite every carnal fantasy he’s ever held…

The difference is now, he thinks she does it on purpose.

“So what did you find?” he asks impatiently. While he generally believes a calm heart must prevail, it is difficult to be calm when his diminutive companion giggles as if she stuffed an entire wrapper of Fancy Lad snack cakes in her mouth.

She licks her lips, the moisture making them shine under the unrelenting sun. “Something… fun.” Waggling her eyebrows, she gives a cheerful half-skip that sends pebbles flying in the dust.

“It would be well if you elaborated.”

“I think it’ll be more fun if I show you.” Despite that claim, the way she hugs herself, practically squirming with delight, makes him suspect she just enjoys having a secret.

“So when will I get to see it?”

“Tonight. I promise.” Her eyes are pale and glowing, shining like stars in the shade of her hand as she scans the horizon. “As soon as we’re home in Megaton and I get a chance to clean up a bit.”

The rest of the journey is spent in maddening silence—at least, silent on the mystery of what she has in store. She is more than happy to babble about anything and everything else under the sun, from wondering what deathclaws must have evolved from before the war (her hypothesis being that they had been bioengineered and designed as weapons, let loose after the bombs fell) to whether or not the agriculture program at Rivet City will ever succeed in making strawberries widely available. (Which she hopes; she confesses that strawberries were her favorite food from Vault 101’s hydroponics division.)

But on the subject of just what, exactly, she ‘liberated’ from the Brotherhood storeroom, she refuses to speak. Instead, she laughs and skates about the edges of the topic. If he didn’t care for her so, it would make him want to…

“Want to pin me down and fuck me yet?” she asks, skipping over a small stone. He can’t see her face, as she has hopped just out of the edge of his reach (a distance he is sure she calculated beforehand), but there is laughter bubbling under the genial words, and an extra roll of her hip before she peeks coyly over one shoulder.

“Absolutely not,” he denies. “Why would I reward you for your bad behavior?”

“Because you love me,” is her easy response, twirling to face him with her arms out, spinning like a bird on the breeze. “And why punish yourself for my misbehaving?” She runs her tongue over her lip, the soft pink startlingly pale against the darkness of her skin.

“You are insufferable.”

“And you are too much fun to tease. You’re just so… so in control of yourself all the time. So sweet. So tender. So when I get a little under your skin…” She runs her nails along the back of her own hand, just deep enough to leave faint white scratches gleaming under the afternoon sun. “It’s sort of exciting. Because then I feel like I get to see what really makes you tick. Plus,” she adds with an unashamed grin, raising an eyebrow at him. “I like when you take charge. Give me a good old-fashioned spanking. Bend me over a table and fuck me hard. Just use me like crazy.”

He groans, feeling his body respond to her words in spite of himself. The physiological responses of desire, yes; his heartbeat accelerating, a thrum pulsing through his veins as he feels the blood rush downward, his pants becoming uncomfortably tight. But he tries to keep himself calm, keeping himself grounded in the mental discipline that allowed him to endure his years of confinement.

“You are far too cavalier,” he says at last, lowering his gaze to meet hers. Her eyes are bright and deceptively innocent, pupils dilated. “You do realize I could… hurt you. Any time I lose control. Like that first time…” His voice trails off awkwardly, and he feels the distance of years and untold experience yawning between them.

“I told you, I liked it,” Jinx says gently, closing the space between them with a squeeze of his arm. “We both had a good time. And from what I’ve heard, well.” She shrugs, biting her lip as she beams a smile upward. “The first time is awkward for lots of people. And sometimes hurts just a little.”

“It would not have hurt at all if I hadn’t—“

She slaps his hand lightly, scolding, “Hey, hey! Enough of that. It was still fun. And we’ve had lots of fun things since then. Don’t act like you always have to apologize for being, well, bigger.”

“I am starting to suspect you have a size kink,” he says, the intended joke falling flat due to his morose tone.

Squeezing his hand firmly, she challenges, “So what if I do? I first liked you because you made me feel safe. And maybe part of that’s because you can carry me like a baby. But I wanted to kiss you and climb all over you even before I learned what you’re packing below the waist.” Her free hand ruffles through her hair, making the red plume stand up like the crest of some barbaric war-helmet. “I like what I like, Fawkes. And I’m not exactly going to apologize for that.”

“I never meant—“ The words die in his throat, and he gives a defeated sigh. She sighs too, shoulders slumping before she suddenly halts, pulling his arm. Small as she is, she can’t possibly stop him unless he lets her; but he always lets her, used to letting her have her own way. She pulls him down to her level, forcing him into a kneeling position, the grey grit of the Wasteland digging into his knees as she pushes her mouth to his. He parts his lips, and she sets upon him like she intends to devour him with lips and tongue. She is hot and wet, tasting faintly of salt but under it is sweetness, like Nuka Cola or ant nectar. Her arms twist around his neck now, pulling him closer and moaning as he wraps his hands around her legs, lifting her up and parting her thighs around the barrel of his chest as he straightens up.

Time pauses under the warm sunlight; it is just her body wrapped around his, him standing tall and kissing her deeply, madly, feverishly, thinking that at any moment this could all just vanish, a cruel fantasy spun by years of darkness and isolation back in his little underground cell… but her weight, while scant, is reassuringly real. The way she breathes against his cheek, breath rasping across the skin and the residual ache in his knees from pressing into the dirt, all of these are things he lacks the imagination to conjure. This moment is real. Everything is real.

When finally they break apart like waves dying against the shore, he dizzyingly notes that less than a minute has passed according to her Pip-Boy.

“I love you, you big idiot,” she mutters, pressing her cheek against his neck as if embarrassed by that confession. “I’m not always easy to love. I touch people too much. I’m nosy. I talk too much. But I love you, even if I’m a pain in the ass. At least I’m your pain in the ass.”

He laughs weakly, chuckling as he squeezes her close, just gently rocking her back and forth in his arms. “I appreciate that.”

When he finally sets her down, the rest of the walk goes much more easily. That strange, almost-fight has drained much of Jinx’s mischief and allows for a more companionable silence. They reach Megaton not long after nightfall, the pale moon’s glow beckoning them on. When they reach the entrance of their Megaton house, Jinx immediately shoos Fawkes upstairs.

“Go read or something. I have to clean off the surprise, then I’ll get you.” She dances around the edge of their giant heart-shaped bed to grab two books off the shelf, not even bothering to read their titles before pressing them into Fawkes’ hands. Bemused at how easily she commands him, he obediently walks up the stairs, the metal panels echoing under his feet. Idly, he reflects that masochism and submission are two very different things; masochistic streak aside, she is always so demanding…

He thinks back to that moment in the sunlight, and her hungry mouth against his. The way she felt, the way she always feels so warm and eager under his hands, never shying away from embracing him with the entirety of her form. The way her kisses feel like rain against his chest. The way her body curves along his, and how much he loves her.

Examining the two books she brought him, he decides against reading Frankenstein. Neruda suits his mood much better, the poetry feeding his heart. The copy they have provides the Spanish side by side with its English translation, and he likes tracing the parallels between the languages. Like puzzle pieces slowly fitting together, he maps the poems, each word forming a new piece in his linguistic construction. This is a book he does not want to share with the Brotherhood; fortunately, he doubts they would be interested.

Downstairs, he hears a high-pitched cry of “No, Dogmeat! Leave it alone!” followed by a canine whine. “Okay, good boy! Chew that instead!” Then her footsteps up the stairs, and her bursting through the door. “Fawkes, I’m ready! Come downstairs with me, please?” She bites her lip endearingly, hooking her fingers together and squeezing her breasts between her arms like a prewar pin-up. It’s a familiar pose, but no less charming for the fact he has seen it over a hundred times. He shuts the book, setting it aside and pulling her into his lap. Jinx moves into him, thighs spread as she nuzzles close, lips tracing the lines of his chest.

“Kiss me first,” he requests.

She happily obliges, head tilting upward and mouth already parted. This time, he takes the lead, squeezing one hand under her legs, cupping where the curve of her buttocks meets the flesh of her thigh. He can feel the heat of her groin against his fingers, and instinctively curls upward, grinding at her through the increasingly damp fabric. She moans against his mouth, thrumming like electricity as he nuzzles her lips. Then he bears down, slipping his other hand up the edge of her shirt, feeling bare skin and the gentle curve of her belly before she breaks away, breathing heavily and pushing to her feet.

“Not yet. Downstairs. Now. Please,” she adds, already undoing the buttons on her leather vest. He groans low in his throat, shrugging his shoulders out of the remnants of his vault suit and following her. She leaves a trail of discarded clothing, flinging the vest over the side of the stairs and pulling her shirt overhead, dropping it on the floor. Her boots are kicked off at the bottom, then followed by her pants as Fawkes blinks, looking at the items arrayed on the red blankets. A number of them are easily recognized as phallic shapes, even with odd attachments, but there is also a metal ball attached to a thin, curving loop, a plastic bead connected by cord to a thin grip, and a mysterious item that curves around two slender bulbs…

“What are these?”

“Sex toys!” she exclaims, bright and cheerful. Plopping herself beside them, she spreads her legs wide, letting him glimpse the pink flash of her slit as she eagerly wiggles. “Look, I cleaned them and think it would just be completely fantastic to—“

“Am I not pleasing you?” he asks, wounded and hurt. Picking up one of the silicone toys, he hesitantly holds it by his erection, noting that it is both shorter and thinner than his own equipment.

Immediately, she rolls to her knees, kissing his thigh and running one hand over the tender flesh of his balls. “Love, no. That’s not what I meant. I just… I was thinking it would be fun. Variety. Something to do with you.” She rises to her feet, kissing his erection and working her way up his belly before squeezing close. “I know you like that one position, the one where I’m on top and leaning back so you can watch your cock go in and out…”

He nods, warm memories rushing through his mind. The way her thighs fit over his hips, and her tilting back, shifting her weight onto her hands so he can see her breasts bounce, then looking down to see his thick flesh pushing in and out, slick and vanishing into the tightness of her body like a dirty magic trick. His soft groan gives her further encouragement.

“So these are just… spice. Addition. Some things we normally can’t or don’t do.”

He picks up the metal bulb, hefting its weight and thinking about just where it should go. Shaped too awkwardly for good penetration, but a flared base; he finds himself eyeing the curve of her ass as he says, “I am listening.”

“So I want to use these with you,” she admits, her blush turning her cheeks from burnt sugar to dark rose. “I don’t want to put anything in or on me unless you approve it. And whenever you want to stop or slam your cock in me, we can do that.”

“I don’t want to slam my cock in you,” he sighs, dick throbbing under the half-lie as she laughs. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“So you won’t hurt me. You’ll be making me feel good, I promise. I’ll tell you if it’s not. But hurt…” She bites her lip, voice trailing off. “I kind of want you to be dominant, for tonight. You don’t have to be sadistic, but I want you in charge. I want you to take charge of my pleasure. Like that day when all you’d give me was oral—“

“I was not attempting to…!” Fawkes protests, ears burning. He can’t even bring himself to finish that sentence, choking on shame mixed with furtive desire.

“It’s not all spanking and leather and whips and chains. I just… I like when you tell me what to do. So I’m asking for that. Please?”

It’s the please that undoes him, her desire melting away his reservations. Because yes, he wants to pleasure her, but he always feels so dirty, shameful for taking her innocent pleasures and bending them to his will, a way of having her allow him inside her body. He wants to fit pieces of himself and these toys into her, filling her to the brim.

But looking at her face, her lips half-parted with lust and her eyes glazed, he knows her pleasures are far from innocent.

So he leans in, kissing her lips and pushing her back onto the bed. “Fine. But I want you to promise that if you want to stop, or anything is too much, you’ll tell me.”

“Fawkes, I love you. Normally you have a harder time shutting me up than getting me to talk,” she chuckles, returning the kiss and crossing her wrists over her head with a sigh.

The first item that gets his attention is that odd little bead. Pink and egg-shaped, it looks positively tiny in his massive hand, but when he flicks the switch attached to its long cord, the egg starts vibrating. With a pleased grunt, he drops the switch, just holding the egg in his left hand. Her thighs are already coated with clear honey, slick lubrication leaking down as she tilts her hips upward. Slipping a finger into her cunt elicits a soft moan, then a louder one as he curls it upward. He gives a long, slow lick to her clit, flicking upward and over her wealth of dark curls before setting the buzzing egg directly against her clitoris.

The results are immediate, her body clenching about him even as she tries squirming upward, as wriggly and evasive as when he tries to give her oral. So he pulls his fingers out of her, spreading his hands over her belly and pinning her in place. She struggles against his palm, hips bucking wildly as he presses the buzzer deeper against her folds, tilting it so the wider portion of the egg disperses its vibrations.

“Oh fuck—!” she screams, and he resists the urge to laugh at the power of this new toy, his initial hesitancy vanishing in the strength of her orgasm as she writhes beneath him. He presses it firmly back to her clit, rolling the egg so that forms wide, teasing strokes as she cries again, screaming and digging her hands into the coverlet, hands balling into tiny fists as she squeezes down. But when he tries to return the little egg directly to her clit, she groans, “No. It’s too sore right now. It’s gonna chafe.”

So he sets the toy aside, flicking its buzzer off and planting a light kiss on the soft pad of her vulva. Still panting, she raises her hips.

“Didn’t say I was done,” she says muzzily, smiling like a fallen angel.

“And I thought you were trusting me to please you,” he mock-growls, pressing his mouth to her belly because he knows she likes his breath across her skin. She shivers delightedly as he reaches for the mysterious metal object, just starting to realize its potential. He presses the cool bulb into her wet folds, slipping it upward and into her pussy.

Groaning, she tilts her hips upward, making access easier. “Feels heavy.” The soft gasp does not sound like a complaint though, as she is still gyrating slowly, biting her lip with frustration as it fails to completely hit the desired level of stimulation. “Fawkes, this one’s not so much fun. Maybe try—“

Her protest earns a long, sloppy lick to her clit, making her scream echo through the house. “Trust me.” His mouth and tongue relentlessly bear down on the sensitive nub, even as she cries that it’s too much, too intense, but her lips are lying even as she arches against him, her orgasm crashing all about her and ringing in her ears. She is so distracted by the feel of his mouth on her that she almost does not notice when he pulls out the metal bulb. But she does notice when that same bulb gently presses against her the puckered ring of her ass. All it does is press; like a finger to a button, the cool metal now warm and slick with her fluids.

“H-hey.” Her voice is uncharacteristically weak as she shivers, drawing her thighs together instinctively. But with his head still between her legs and one hand pressing on her belly, she has little room to maneuver. “Fawkes, I never… not even with myself.”

“Do you want me to stop?” He looks up at her, gazing at her eyes half-lidded and her cheeks flushed, her hair plastered to her scalp and lips parted with desire. Equal parts trepidation and lust; he’s never found her so desirable.

Her eyes close as she groans, long and throaty. “No. Please don’t stop. Just—be gentle.”

“I’ll never be anything but.” He kisses her belly with that promise, pushing the strange plug against her tight hole. Gently nudging it back and forth, barely more than a soft throb against the sphincter, he feels her start to relax with the unfamiliar sensation. Eventually, he feels her asshole dilate, relaxing to accommodate the metal bulb. Thrusting just a bit more, he is rewarded by seeing her ass envelope it, practically sucking it in as if hungry to be filled.

“Ah…” She sighs low and sweet, head rolling to the side. “That feels good.” Her eyes are pale slits of blue, just barely peeping out under her eyelids as she watches him watching her. “It feels dirty when you look at me down there.”

Deliberately, he turns his gaze down, one finger closing through the outer loop of the base and using it to push inward. “I like watching.” Jinx shivers as it thrusts in, the weight of the ball filling her rectum and softly, as if through padded gloves, stimulating the emptiness of her cunt. He watches her wet folds moisten even more, slick lubrication smeared all over her thighs and pussy lips. “I like watching you take things up your ass,” he murmurs, the dirty talk strange and heavy on his lips. But she seems to like it, giving another pleased shiver and starting to fondle her breasts, rolling the puckered nipples between her fingers. “I like watching you play with yourself.” Watching her is always a treat, her face both innocent and wanton as her practiced fingers immediately go towards whatever will bring her the most pleasure. She thrives on stimulation, excessive stimulation—and he loves to give it to her.

He’s very tempted to thrust inside her now, to fill her with his cock and ram hard and deep, pushing her limits until she gives that little half-gasp of pleasure mixed with pain and comes all around him, drumming her heels on his back and scratching his chest…

But watching her mouth hang open, breathing heavily and with her tongue just visible past her lips, gives him other ideas. So he lets go of the plug, and takes one of the other toys. It is a vaguely phallic rod with an upward-curving tilt, though it is a thing of sinuous lines rather than an outright penis shape. It is not a small toy, but it is significantly smaller—both thinner and shorter—than his own cock. So when he gently thrusts it into her, using it as a dildo, he is gratified to hear her moan with delight.

“I apologize for accusing you of having a size kink,” he says softly, still kissing her belly and running his tongue across her navel.

She giggles now, hands still cupping her breasts and squeezing them together as she wriggles. “I love you, you know. You are so much more than just a big green dick.” Her head tilts back as she sighs lustily, working her way through a teasing litany. “You’re also a nice big tongue—“ He flicks his tongue directly into her bellybutton, deliberately tickling her. Laughing, she continues. “You’re a pair of strong hands. You’re warm arms and soft lips and everything else I love.”

His thumb slips across a set of buttons at the base of the toy, and he presses one curiously. Rather than the vibrations he expected, it starts thrusting in his hand, pulsing in and out to mime fucking motions.

“Hey, I like this one too!” Jinx exclaims, though it changes to a surprised yelp as he hits another button, changing the rhythm to a faster, almost rumbling motion. Intrigued, he continues pressing the button, cycling through various movement patterns before settling on a rapid, vibrating thrust that makes Jinx’s eyes roll back and her tongue hang out. Releasing the toy, he is pleased to note that it is capable of hands-free stimulation.

Both nervous and excited, Fawkes coughs to clear his throat. “I want you to roll over now.” His normal bass rumble succeeds in masking some of his trepidation, but she cocks her head to one side, eyeing him mischievously.

“Is that an order?”

“Yes.”

Her grin widens. “Then command me.”

Swallowing, he tries again. “Roll over for me. I want to—no, I am going to fuck your mouth.” He loves the feel of her mouth on his cock, but has never gotten to actually come from oral alone. Instead, they use it as an appetizer, foreplay before rubbing his cock between her thighs or slipping into her pussy.

Her response is gratifying, lithe body twisting under him as he releases her. He has to touch his hand to the pulsar toy to keep it in place, and she moans as she feels the heavy metal plug in her ass shift its weight, bearing down on her cunt and amplifying each thrust of the silicone object. But she manages to make herself to an awkward position on her hands and knees, facing him as the toy continues fucking her. It is an undignified position, but he decides that’s part of the charm; his little dancer made ungainly and clumsy by her own desire.

Fawkes sits back on the bed now, spreading his legs and letting her crawl between them. With her ass still angled upward, he can even watch the base of the toy move in and out as she starts licking his shaft. Cupping his erection with one hand, she lathers her tongue up and down, using broad strokes to coat every inch of him from base to tip in a slick layer of saliva. Then she actually starts sucking, stretching her lips over him and using her hand to twist up and down, covering the length that she can’t possibly take in her small mouth. She has to use her elbow to brace herself, propping it against the meaty pad of his upper thigh and shifting her weight over him. He likes it, her weight almost negligible through his thick skin but reassuringly there. He twists his hand through her hair, the unladylike mane making an excellent grip, but keeps his fingers loose; gently tugging, rather than controlling. A not so subtle reminder that he could just grab her and ram his cock down her throat.

But he won’t. He knows that, and she knows that—but there is still excitement in flirting with that danger zone.

She moans around his cock, her tongue tickling the sensitive glans and her breath hot around him. She’s getting sloppier, her strokes erratic as her head bobs up and down, lips plump and cheeks puffy as she continues sucking. He can tell she’s coming, body trembling, and decides to urge it along by shoving that toy just a little bit deeper. He gives it a gentle tap, and that extra centimeter of penetration does the trick, her hands shaking as she still tries to desperately stroke him to completion…

“Jinx,” he groans, one hand still twined against her scalp. “I want to—“ The idea feels wicked and degrading, but that’s part of why he wants it. He licks his lips, trying to gather the words for his desire.

She stops sucking for just a moment, barely more than a heartbeat as she draws back, kissing the thick vein pulsing under his cock. “You get to do whatever you want, Fawkes. You own me tonight.” It should sound lewd, lascivious—but her voice is so soft, and her breath puffs against his balls. It sounds almost like a prayer, and he re-examines that last statement.

Ownership. That’s what he wants.

“I’m going to come on your face. Get ready,” he grunts, tugging her hair back. She makes a token mewl of protest, eyes already closing and mouth parted in preparation. His other hand goes down, forming a tight fist over his shaft and pumping rapidly up and down, the movement made easier by her generous coating of spit and love. With a shuddering roar, he releases a sticky stream of spunk all over her features, white globs dripping down over her cheek and oozing past her chin. Panting, he releases another spurt, though the volume is nowhere near as impressive as the first wave.

She sits there, still and obedient as he finishes emptying his balls. When at last he finishes, she opens her eyes and tentatively licks her lips, tasting the salt and musk of his semen. “It feels like so much more when it’s on here instead of down there,” she whispers, tracing a finger across a patch of come still sticky on her cheek and pressing it to her lips. She licks it clean and swallows, watching him through lowered lashes all the while.

He reaches past her, pulling out the toy that’s still thrusting, and flicks it off. Setting it aside, he decides they can clean up later. When he reaches for the metal loop of the plug, she shivers, shaking her head.

“No.” At his questioning look, she blushes. “I like it. I want to keep it in me tonight.”

“This wasn’t too…?” he asks, feeling hesitant even as he admires his own seed still coating her face like a form of abstract art.

“The only thing it was ‘too’ was too good not to try again,” she sighs, crawling on top of him and beginning to curl her head against his shoulder. She pauses, then asks, “When am I allowed to wipe it off? I want to cuddle, but don’t want to get you all sticky too.”

‘Allowed’ seems like such a strange word from her; she who is always in charge, the one that Brotherhood paladins and Megaton residents alike recognize as the true leader in their adventures. But he likes it, feeling a strange swelling of pride.

“Just a little longer. I want to watch it fall on your breasts.” Truthfully, he wouldn’t mind if she wipes it all off right now, but he wants to see how much further he can go with this newfound power in the bedroom. Obediently, she stays sitting up, and only wipes her face clean on the blanket after the first drop of jizz hits the slope of her chest.

“You know, we still have all those other toys to try…” he says thoughtfully.

Her laugh is like cola and whiskey, sweet and burning. “I look forward to it.”

Epilogue:

When Bael finally returned to his post outside the sex toy closet, it was angry and upset. Gallows had given him a lecture (again) on proper conduct around Brotherhood allies, and then assigned him to cleaning duties. Cleaning duties. Cleaning the mess hall or mopping the floors would be bad enough, but Gallows ordered him to clean the sex toy closet.

Goddammit, he didn’t become a paladin just to clean off a bunch of prewar perverts’ plastic penises.

But that’s what Gallows commanded.

So when Bael enters the closet, rags and bucket of water in hand, he pays close attention to the floor, the wall, anything but the damn things he’s supposed to clean.

And he notices footprints in the dust, traces of a visitor to a secret place that no one is supposed to enter or even know about.

Staring at the footprints—boot prints, more like; not the distinctive grooved lines from metal armor—he also notices how small they are. And now that he is suspicious about someone else visiting the closet, he looks at the disturbed dust on the shelves, some of the boxes that haven’t been put back quite in line with the ancient layers of dirt that built up around them…

Fuck it, he decides with a groan. He’s not going to ask the Lone Wanderer to give them back.

Author’s Notes: The toys described came to my attention through these (NSFW) reviews.

Stronic Eins (”http://www.ohjoysextoy.com/stronic/”) (The thrusting toy)
Njoy Pure Plug (”http://www.ohjoysextoy.com/njoy/”) (metal butt plug)
a bullet vibe (”http://www.ohjoysextoy.com/bulletvibe/”)

Miscellaneous others were mentioned, but not actually used.

Working links, 'cuz I screwed up.

Stronic Eins (http://www.ohjoysextoy.com/stronic/) (Thrusting toy)

Njoy Pure Plug (http://www.ohjoysextoy.com/njoy/) (metal butt plug)

a bullet vibe (http://www.ohjoysextoy.com/bulletvibe/)

Lordy, lordy lordy! In the last 6 months or so there have been some incredibly hot and steamy object penetration fills coming out, and this one is a cracker!
I'll be in my bunk.

Characters: M!Courier, Arcade, Veronica
Relationship: M!Courier/Arcade (and M!Courier/prostitutes)
Kinks: substance, sex pollen, fuck or die, slash, het, masturbation, anal, oral, fingering, rimming, multiple orgasm, dry orgasm, the kitchen sink
Summary: The Courier takes some chems with unexpectedly distracting side effects. Arcade gets roped into finding a remedy.

---

Rosy evening light flooded into the tent. Arcade looked up from his microscope to see Julie standing in the opening.

“Someone here insisting on seeing you,” she said. “Says it’s an emergency.”

She stepped aside and a young man entered, barely more than a boy.

“Doctor Gannon?” he said, breathless from running. Arcade nodded, frowning. “The lady sent me. Um, I don’t know her name, the one with the big old Powerfist. Said you need to come quick. Said it’s Jake, he’s real sick.”

Arcade was on his feet before the kid even finished his sentence. “Where?”

“The Wrangler,” the kid said. “She said you’d need a… a… um…”

“A what?” Arcade snapped. He was already reaching for his doctor’s bag.

“A… sellative?”

“Sedative?”

“Uh. Yeah, something like that.”

Arcade made a quick scan of the contents of his bag, making sure he had Med-X, stims, plenty of antivenom (Jake was forever getting poisoned), dressings, and, yes, tranquilizers in both oral and injectable form. He snatched up the bag and followed the kid from the tent. Julie eyed him with confusion and mild annoyance as he passed. Arcade was getting used to that look; saw it every time he left the Fort at short notice to go running after the Courier. They could argue about it later.

--

It was still early evening, but already slot machines were jangling in the bar and half the tables were occupied. The sound of a girl moaning enthusiastically became clearer as Arcade climbed the stairs two at a time. Veronica was waiting right outside Jake’s room, as though on guard. She was all but twitching with anxiety.

“I’m sorry,” she said as he reached the top of the stairs. “I would have come for you myself, but I couldn’t leave him alone in case… I don’t know, in case he hurt her.”

Arcade frowned. “Hurt who?”

Veronica pulled a face that was a kind of apologetic wince. “The hooker,” she said. Before Arcade could ask her what the hell she meant, she’d pushed open the door to Jake’s room.

Arcade looked over her shoulder, then stopped and just stared.

There were people on the bed. Naked people. Naked people having very noisy, furious sex. One of them was Jake. Actually, he wasn’t completely naked; his pants were down around his knees and it looked as though one of his boots was still on, but everything from there on up was bared and bathed in sweat. His skin was blazing red from his efforts. From the doorway Arcade could see his profile, eyes almost closed, his lips parted and teeth bared in a snarl. On her knees underneath him was a dark-haired woman whom Arcade vaguely recognised from the few times he’d visited the bar. She was the one making those moans; Arcade just hadn’t processed the fact that they were coming from this room. The sound seemed almost deafening now the door was open; she panted and moaned and yelled as though it was almost too much. The way Jake was ramming into her like an animal, Arcade was hardly surprised.

He tore his eyes away from the spectacle and Veronica pulled the door closed again. Jake and the girl hadn’t even seemed to notice them.

“What the hell is this?” Arcade demanded. He tried not to focus on why he felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “I thought he was injured?”

Veronica had gone very very pink. Arcade could feel his own face burning too.

“He’s been at it like this for well over an hour,” she replied, voice hushed. “He’s already worn out one girl and this is the second. It’s like he’s possessed. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“It looks as though he’s getting all the medical assistance he needs,” Arcade muttered.

“You don’t understand. He took something,” Veronica said. “Some kind of chem. I don’t know what it was, or where he got it, but we ran into a group of Fiends out near Westside and he popped out this inhaler saying it’d make his reactions faster.”

“And you let him?”

“Oh, sure, we asked the Fiends to wait while we had a debate about the pros and cons of sampling strange drugs, which he won due to his powers of logical reasoning,” Veronica replied, glaring back at him. “You know what he’s like, Arcade, he already had a lungful of that crap before I could so much as ask what the hell he was doing.”

Arcade did indeed know what the Courier was like. Brave. Quick-thinking. Often reckless. Occasionally idiotic. Arcade had lectured him more than once about the dangers of chems, especially for someone with recent fucking brain damage. “Then what?”

“Well, we fought them off, obviously, but after that he started acting… weird. Itching like he had ants in his armour. And then he started giving me this look, like… well, you know the kind of look.” She frowned and gave herself a little shake. “And then he tried to grab me, so. Yeah. I stopped that shit right there.” She raised her fist, the one still clad in her armoured gauntlet.

Arcade stared at her in horror. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine. Whatever he has in his system, I know he’s not himself. But he needed some kind of help.” She gestured at the bedroom door. “This was the best I could come up with at short notice with a horny semi-conscious guy in armour draped over my shoulder.”

“You said there was another girl?”

“Yeah. Poppy. She’s okay, she’s just very, um, sore. And now he’s with Camille, but it’s been a while and he just won’t stop. Did you bring something to knock him out?”

Arcade nodded. The girl in the room let out a high-pitched cry, and he and Veronica exchanged a look.

“I think we might need it,” Veronica remarked.

She opened the door and they edged inside. The room stank of sex. The hooker—Camille—seemed to be in pleasure rather than pain. She threw her head back, clawed her fingers in the bed sheets and her whole body tensed as she orgasmed. Jake didn’t slow for a moment. He grabbed her shoulders and thrust harder and faster than ever. The sound of their slick bodies slapping together filled the room.

“Oh god oh god oh god—” The woman convulsed and started coming all over again. Veronica shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. Arcade put his bag down on the bookcase near the door and opened the buckle.

“Hey,” said a female voice. The girl on the bed looked over at them from between the strands of sweaty hair hanging in her face. She looked like she was having trouble holding herself up, especially with Jake still driving into her with great force. “A little help here?” she said weakly.

Arcade took out a clean syringe and a glass vial and quickly prepared the injection. He reminded himself that he was a doctor and this was a medical matter first and foremost. The fact that he’d just walked in on a very heterosexual porno starring his close friend and object of his poorly repressed desires had to be pushed to one side. He didn’t have time to feel awkward. That could, and no doubt would, come later. He caught Veronica’s eye and the two of them moved toward the bed, picking their way past the armour and clothing strewn on the rug. Veronica went behind Jake while Arcade stood by his side.

“Jake,” Arcade said.

Jake looked up at him, registering his presence for the first time, and Arcade realised just how sick he was. His pupils were huge, eyes bloodshot and lids heavy. Sweat poured off him. He looked out of his mind. Arcade felt a prickle of fear. He looked like a Fiend.

“You want some too?” His voice came out in a rough growl. Arcade couldn’t tell if it was from aggression or just exertion.

“I’ll… politely decline,” Arcade said. “Do you think you can stop what you’re doing for a moment?”

Jake either didn’t hear or didn’t understand. “C’m’ere,” he grunted.

He kept pounding on Camille, one hand on her back, and with the other he reached out and grabbed a fistful of Arcade’s shirt. He pulled him closer.

“Lemme fuck you,” he said. His hand reached lower and he rubbed his open palm against the front of Arcade’s pants.

Arcade snatched his wrist away. “Stop,” he said. He choked down the surge of conflicting feelings that had suddenly risen up. He tried this with Veronica, too, he reminded himself. He probably doesn’t even know who we are. He nodded to Veronica, who grabbed Jake firmly around the shoulders and pulled him back. The prostitute crawled away and collapsed at the edge of the bed. Jake immediately started thrashing to free himself, but Veronica clamped him tightly while Arcade took firm hold of his nearest arm. At least dealing with so many junkies in his time meant he was well practiced. He held the syringe between his teeth for a moment while he swabbed the soft skin of Jake’s elbow with a scrap of cotton, then swiftly jabbed the needle into Jake’s arm and depressed the plunger. Jake let out a howl of pain and fury. Veronica kept her arms around him until he stopped struggling and started to slacken.

“Sshhhhh,” she whispered close to his ear. “It’s okay. We’ve got you.” She lay him down carefully on his side, and pulled one of the crumpled sheets over him in a vain attempt to salvage some of his modesty.

Arcade went to toss the empty syringe into the trash can in the corner. He breathed out heavily. Jake’s sweat was on his hands, the smell of him in his nostrils.

“Are you okay?” he heard Veronica say in motherly tones. She had scooped up Camille’s robe from the floor and wrapped it around her.

“I’m good,” the girl said dreamily as Veronica helped her to her feet. “Just needed a break before I lost the feeling in my legs. He is something else.” She sounded worn out but genuinely impressed. She leaned on Veronica, who helped her out of the room.

Arcade went back to the bed and sat down. Jake wasn’t unconscious, just subdued. Arcade laid a palm across his forehead. He was on fire. Jake’s eyes opened a little wider and he tried to reach for Arcade, though whether it was intended as an attack or an advance was unclear. His body was too weighted and sluggish from the sedative. He mumbled something that made no sense.

“What am I supposed to do with you?” Arcade sighed. Jake responded with a feral growl.

Veronica returned soon after. “Well, this has been a new experience,” she said. “First time I ever paid for sex, and it was for someone else. I hope Mr. Happy Hard-On here appreciates it.” She looked down at Jake with a scowl, though no lack of concern. “Now what? Do you think he’ll just sleep it off?”

Arcade shook his head. “He’s burning up. I need to get him rehydrated and bring down this fever.”

“Okay. What do you need?”

“Plenty of cold water,” he said. “Some to drink, some to wash him.” He flinched as Jake’s hand reached for his thigh, and he prised it away. Some for me to take a cold shower in.

Veronica nodded and left the room. Arcade arranged some pillows and helped Jake to move so he was propped up. He moved to the foot of the bed and tugged off Jake’s remaining boot and his pants, careful to ensure that the sheet stayed covering his body. His clothing and large patches of the sheets were soaked through with sweat. Vigorous sex would make a man perspire, sure, but this was something else. Despite the heat radiating off him, Arcade noticed Jake shiver.

Veronica came back a few minutes later carrying a tin pail of water. She had a couple of towels draped over one arm, and four bottles of purified water tucked under the other. She put everything down on the nightstand.

“Thanks,” Arcade said. “That’s perfect.”

“Need any help?” she asked hesitantly.

Arcade glanced at Jake, who was still wild-eyed but currently too pliant to put up an effective fight. He was also still plainly aroused under the thin sheet. Arcade decided Veronica had probably seen enough of his junk to last her a lifetime.

“I can manage,” he said. “And I think you’ve earned a drink.”

Veronica looked relieved. She patted Arcade on the shoulder. “Good luck. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Once she left, Arcade opened a bottle of water and held it to Jake’s lips.

“Come on,” he said. “I need you to drink.”

Jake gratefully downed the full bottle with Arcade’s help. Arcade opened another, and Jake drank half of it in one long gulp. Arcade soaked one of the towels in the bucket and wrung it out. He mopped Jake’s face first, gently dabbing around his eyes and forehead before moving down to his neck and collarbone. It was hard to tell if he was bringing his patient any noticeable relief. Jake shifted and furrowed his brow, but didn’t try to push him away. Arcade had never seen him so out of it before, even when wounded or falling-down drunk. He’d never seen him as raw and testosterone-fuelled as he’d been up until a few minutes earlier, either. The stark extremes made something twist painfully in Arcade’s ribcage. He did his best to ignore it and keep going, wiping away sticky sweat and dipping the towel to cool Jake’s skin. Jake shivered again when Arcade reached his chest. Arcade noticed the goosebumps that formed across Jake’s shoulders, the damp curls of hair, the way his nipples tightened into hard points and his breathing deepened. Noticed it all, despite trying his hardest not to look.

As Arcade ministered to him, Jake revived enough to get handsy again. He was still too weak to do more than paw vaguely at Arcade’s chest and jaw and arms, though, and after a while it became more effort than it was worth to keep tugging his hands away so Arcade just let them wander, provided they didn’t head anywhere too personal. As he was wiping down Jake’s stomach, Jake moved his hips in response. His erection hadn’t abated at all. That was cause for concern. It was also cause for a considerably less professional reaction below Arcade’s belt. He tore his eyes away from the bulge that was barely covered by the sheet. He was disgusted at himself. Just because Jake’s dick was hard and his hands straying, it didn’t make it acceptable for Arcade to ogle someone who was burning alive with fever. The hyperarousal was a symptom, not an invitation.

He moved down the bed and started to wash Jake’s legs instead. That made things easier until he got to the top of his thighs and was confronted with the problem of his groin all over again. He couldn’t touch him there, not with Jake in this state. Not with Arcade himself in this state. And yet it didn’t seem right to leave him sticky with sweat and the juices of the women he’d fucked. Plus the cold water may help take the edge off his arousal.

I’m a doctor. I’m a doctor. I’m a doctor.

He dipped the cloth again and pulled the sheet away. He could feel Jake’s eyes burning into him, but he refused to look at his face. He stroked the cloth gently along Jake’s still-hard cock, careful not to allow their skin to touch. Jake moaned and bucked his hips into the contact. He reached for Arcade’s hand, but Arcade eased away from him. Jake made a sound of protest, and the moment Arcade was done he started to jerk himself instead, fingers wrapped around his shaft. His grip was too tight and his movements too clumsy on skin already raw from sex. Whatever drug had fried his brain had stripped him of any restraint. At this rate he’d keep going till he bled.

“Stop it,” Arcade urged gently. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“It already hurts,” Jake groaned. His voice was slurred. “God, it hurts so bad, I need to come.”

“Turn over,” Arcade told him. “Let me do your back.”

Jake ignored him, resisted Arcade’s efforts to move him. His breathing hitched faster.

“For the love of—” Arcade wrapped his hand around Jake’s to still it. He doused the cloth again and dabbed at Jake’s face. The last thing he needed was him working himself up into hyperventilation. “Slow down,” he insisted.

With his hand trapped by Arcade’s, Jake started to rock his hips into their combined fists instead. Arcade wasn’t touching his cock directly, but this still felt far too close for comfort. He tried again to tug Jake’s hand away. Jake whined.

“Please, help me come,” he begged. “This is killing me.”

“I can’t,” Arcade said. “Do you even know who I am, Jake?”

Jake looked at him through eyelashes spiked with moisture. “Arcade,” he said. He reached up with his free hand and clutched the lapels of Arcade’s coat, tried to pull him down. “Help me. Make me come, Arcade.”

Arcade freed himself from Jake’s grip and stood up, turning away so Jake wouldn’t see the effect he was having on his anatomy. He glanced at his doctor’s bag and wondered if he could risk tranquilising him again. He didn’t want to, not when Jake’s system was already flooded with unknown chems. Leaving him in his current state was no better. The flush of hormones brought on by orgasm might genuinely help him, but if prolonged intercourse with two different women had brought him no relief, masturbating wasn’t going to get him any closer.

Unless—Well, maybe there was another solution after all. A different kind of stimulation could give him release. The only problem was providing that stimulation. None of the options made him feel remotely comfortable.

Jake groaned and turned on his side, still groping himself. “Do something,” he pleaded.

“It’s okay,” Arcade said. He leaned down and smoothed the hair back from Jake’s forehead. “I’ll go get someone to help you.”

--

“What do you mean, he quit?”

Arcade stood facing Francine Garrett across the bar. She stared back unapologetically. “I mean, he quit. Few days ago. Ran off with some NCR boy. Hadn’t even finished paying back his debts yet.”

“And Santiago was your only male... companion?”

“Yep.”

Arcade gritted his teeth. “What about the robot.”

Francine shook her head. “Now there’s another wasted investment. Damn thing’s on the fritz again. James has been working on it upstairs for the last week.”

“Right.” Arcade closed his eyes. This couldn’t be happening. The next best option would be to get Jake to the Strip, but Arcade had serious doubts about the likelihood of getting him dressed and on his feet, never mind all the way to a major casino and past security in his intoxicated and feverish state.

“Our Ellie looks enough like a boy from behind,” Francine began, but Arcade raised a hand to stop that thought.

“No. Thanks. It’s not for me,” he told her. He leaned on the bar, drumming his fingers on the surface. “It’s—Look, as ridiculous as this sounds, it’s a medical emergency.”

“Uh huh.” Francine looked unmoved. “Ain’t it always.”

--

Arcade eyed his reflection in the bathroom mirror, blurry without his glasses, and gave himself a silent pep talk. He could feel proud, he told himself, of the heroic job he’d done of so far resisting Jake’s advances. Especially since that man was basically all of Arcade’s wet dream fantasies rolled into one, and that was before he was writhing naked under him and begging to be touched. If Arcade could withstand pressure like that, he could surely find a way to get through this with a minimum of damage to both of them.

Even so, he felt guilty. Guilty for looking, guilty for getting hard, and guilty that he was about to go into a stall and jerk off so he didn’t come in his pants the next time Jake rubbed against him.

“Really goddamn heroic,” he said, and doused his face in cold water.

--

Having dealt with his erection in record time—even if he hadn’t been in a rush, he wouldn’t have lasted three minutes with those images of Jake fresh in his mind—Arcade went back to the room. Veronica had spotted him on his way to the stairs, but he’d given her a kind of vague ‘Everything’s fine’ gesture, and she’d stayed at her table. Better to lie than have to explain what he was about to do.

He unlocked the door and went inside. He’d felt rather ashamed of locking Jake in, but it seemed safer for everyone in the building. He took off his white coat and draped it over a chair. It was far too warm in here.

Jake was on his back, totally exposed, still desperately trying to beat himself off. Arcade blushed to think he’d been doing the same a minute earlier, though thankfully to greater effect.

As Arcade approached the bed, Jake growled in frustration. “Why can’t I come?”

Arcade sat down. “Because you’re an idiot who chose to rely on chems instead of skill,” he said.

“Chems?” Jake mumbled.

Arcade felt his forehead. It was still too hot. He opened a fresh bottle of water and held it to Jake’s lips. “Drink,” he said.

Jake took only a few sips before moving his head away. Water sloshed onto his neck. “Arcade, please, I feel like I’m gonna die.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“Need it,” Jake protested. He clung to Arcade’s shoulders, either trying to pull himself up or Arcade down.

“Shhh,” Arcade whispered, easing Jake back down onto the mattress. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I’ll take care of you.”

He put the water aside. There was a tube of lubricant on the bed that one of the hookers had left. Cherry flavoured. Classy. Arcade picked it up. Tried and failed to convince himself that this was no different to any other medical procedure.

“Listen to me,” he said. Jake’s eyes met his. The pupils were still blown. “I’m going to help you get some relief, but… it may feel a little weird if you haven’t done it before. Do you want me to try?”

“Yes,” Jake snarled.

“If you want me to stop at any time, you need to tell me.”

“Fucking do it.”

It wasn’t a perfect example of informed consent, but it was the best Arcade was going to get. He uncapped the tube and squeezed some onto his fingers. He nudged one of Jake’s knees, and his thighs parted without resistance. Jake watched him, waiting. Arcade couldn’t cope with having that gaze on him.

“Close your eyes,” he said. Thankfully, Jake complied. He let his head fall to one side on the pillow.

Arcade reached between Jake’s legs and brushed his fingertips against his ass. Jake’s shudder shook the bed and went straight through Arcade, too.

Arcade didn’t know where to look. In the end he just closed his eyes too. He felt around the puckered entrance of Jake’s ass, letting him get used to the contact before pressing a little harder. Jake’s gasps and the motions of his hips offered nothing but encouragement. He eased one fingertip into the hot ring of muscle. Jake was tight, and he tensed reflexively at first, but didn’t fight the intrusion. His muscles were relaxed thanks to the lingering effects of the sedative.

Arcade moved his finger in tiny circles and pushed a little deeper. Once Jake started to rock back into the pressure, he inched the second finger inside. Jake moaned. Arcade opened his eyes despite himself, and saw that Jake had reached for his abused cock yet again.

“If you’re going to insist on doing that, will you at least use this?” Arcade dropped the tube of lubricant onto Jake’s belly. He ignored it, so Arcade used his free hand to inexpertly squeeze some lube out onto Jake’s dick, smearing his fist with it as he did so.

Once Arcade’s fingers were sheathed inside Jake to the second knuckle, he curled them a little, exploring. He found Jake’s prostate and gently pressed against it. Jake went wild, spine arching and hips spasming. His eyes squeezed tighter shut and he tilted his head back into the pillows. Arcade wanted to lean down and lick at his exposed throat. Instead he looked at the wall and started to massage Jake’s prostate with his fingertips. At the same time he pressed the pad of his thumb against his perineum to increase the stimulation.

Jake’s eyes snapped open. “Oh, fuck, what is that,” he gasped, snatching at breath.

Arcade kept going, building the pressure slowly and steadily with sure fingers. He listened to Jake’s voice growing rougher by the minute, felt the tremble in his thighs. He was getting close, at long last. Arcade wanted to open him up more, push another finger inside, stretch him, play with him, but he fought the urge. This wasn’t about what he wanted to do. If it was, he’d have more than his fingers inside him.

A minute longer and Jake’s voice rose to a wordless shout while his body snapped into a long, taut line. His hips thrust off the mattress as he started to come. Arcade tried to tear his eyes away but he couldn’t do it, the sight was too hypnotic as Jake came and came, ropes of thick semen spurting from his fist and decorating his chest and belly. He went on and on. Arcade stroked him through it from inside. He had to clench his free hand into a fist on the sheets to keep from reaching out to help drag out every last drop from Jake’s beautiful cock. The blood in his own dick was a heavy drumbeat behind his fly. Eventually Jake’s hips stilled and he settled back into a seemingly contented heap on the bed. His head lolled to one side. Arcade withdrew his hand gently and leaned forward, reaching for the towel.

“What did you do,” Jake muttered, voice muffled by the pillow. His broad chest rose and fell, slick with sweat again.

Arcade allowed himself a tiny smile. “Does it matter?”

“No,” Jake replied. “God no.”

He shivered as the wet cloth came into contact with his stomach. He opened his eyes, and Arcade felt him watching as he cleaned the sticky mess from his torso. He mumbled something incoherent.

“What?”

“Some water,” Jake said.

Arcade reached for another bottle and opened it. Jake managed to push himself up until he was sitting. He drank deeply, watching Arcade the whole time. He emptied the bottle and lowered it, but kept on staring. The heat of his gaze made Arcade itch.

“What is it?” he said. “How do you feel?”

Jake didn’t answer, just moved forward onto his knees and swung an arm around Arcade’s neck. Before Arcade knew what was happening, Jake’s mouth was pressed to his, more biting him than kissing. The tip of his tongue was cool from the water, but his lips were as hot as the rest of him. Arcade’s heart stopped. Jake made a noise of pure need against him, fingers tugging painfully at his hair. His other hand fumbled for Arcade’s dick.

“Do it again,” his voice rumbled against Arcade’s jaw.

He was straddling Arcade’s lap now, hands everywhere. Arcade felt something hard press against his stomach. He looked down in disbelief. Despite the mess Jake had just made of himself, he was still hard as a rock.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Arcade muttered.

“More,” Jake panted. “I need more.”

It was too much. Arcade couldn’t fight it, not all of this at once. Not the mouth on his, the fingers clawing at his shirt buttons, the hard fucking dick rubbing on his shirt and the gruff, wanton noises Jake was making. His patient’s strength was returning while his own resolve was being sapped more by the second. With a growl he wrapped his arms around Jake and tipped him back onto the bed. He followed him down and ground his erection against the jucture of Jake’s thighs, eliciting another long moan.

“You want more? I’ll give you more.”

He tore himself away long enough to rip off his shirt. His glasses came off too and landed with a clatter onto the nightstand.

“Do you realise what I’m about to do to you?”

“Yes,” Jake hissed.

Arcade unbuckled his belt with trembling hands. Jake had his fly open before Arcade could even get to it, and shoved his pants down roughly. Arcade’s breath caught as hot fingers wrapped around his cock. He felt around in the tangled sheets for the lube, and pulled Jake’s hand away to slather it liberally onto his erection. They watched each other for a moment. Jake’s eyes roved, taking in Arcade’s nakedness for the first time. His breath was shallow, lips parted.

It's a medical emergency!!! Oh anon this is pure gold.

Guh, internet fail delayed the posting of the last parts! ;-_-

“There’s no going back,” Arcade warned. “Not once we do this.” He didn’t know if he was saying it for Jake’s sake or his own.

“Just fuck me.”

Arcade nodded once. “Spread your legs.”

Jake complied, thighs falling open, even tilted his hips up in his eagerness. Arcade slid his wet fingers back into Jake’s hole, three of them this time, thrust them all the way inside and just barely teased against his prostate as he withdrew. He rubbed the head of his cock against Jake’s ass and started to push in. Jake tensed, stopped breathing.

“Is it too much?”

“Yes,” Jake gasped. “No.”

“I can stop—”

“No.”

He ground down onto Arcade, forcing him another inch deeper. They groaned in unison. Arcade rocked his hips slowly, just small movements, sinking a little further into Jake with each forward motion.

“More. I want all of it.”

Arcade gave it to him. Buried himself to the hilt. The feel of Jake’s heat stretched so tight around him made him dizzy, lit him on fire. He started thrusting into him, careful at first, but the more Jake moaned and spread his legs wider and dragged his hands over Arcade’s body, the more his control frayed and he drove harder and deeper.

He half-fell on top of Jake, kissed his mouth, lapped at his throat. Weight propped on one arm, he reached between them and took hold of Jake’s cock. It was a burning weight against his palm. He ran his thumb around the head where it was still slick with come, teasing over the slit and around the glans. He rolled his hips at the same time, playing with the angle he was fucking Jake at. Jake’s voice in his ear grew increasingly franctic, cursing and begging and sobbing that it was so good, so fucking good, and the stream of words coupled with the tight squeeze around Arcade’s dick was too much. His balls tightened and he felt that familiar hot shiver starting to build in his spine. He slowed almost to a stop and kissed Jake long and hard, silencing him. He gripped the base of his cock tightly and pulled out.

“No,” Jake whined. “Don’t stop.”

“If I don’t, I won’t last long enough to get you off,” Arcade said.
Jake just swore at him.

Arcade sat back on his heels, still clutching his dick. “Trust me, I’m not done yet.”

He reached for the last bottle of water. He took a long cold swig, swilling it around to cool his tongue before swallowing. Then he bowed his head and took Jake’s cock deep into his mouth. He tasted like come and artificial cherry. Salty and sweet at the same time. He sucked him down deeper, relishing the mindless noises Jake was making up above. Fingers snagged in his hair. He had to press down hard on Jake’s thighs to keep him from fucking his face. The restraint had Jake all but sobbing as Arcade bathed his cock with his tongue.

He pulled off with a long suck and sat back to take another drink, ignoring Jake’s complaints. Once his tongue was nice and cool again, he pressed Jake’s thighs up, parting them and exposing him in the hottest possible way. Jake stared back, demanding and unashamed. Arcade dropped down and laved his tongue all the way from Jake’s asshole to his balls.

“Holy fuck,” Jake whimpered, and Arcade repeated the motion, slower this time.

He kept going until Jake’s thighs were quivering under his hands and the noises he was making were no longer recognisable as words, then he moved over him again and slid his cock back inside.

Arcade pushed Jake’s thighs up and back, tilting his pelvis up, and tried out a few angled strokes before a rough cry from Jake told him he’d found what he was aiming for. He held him in place and fucked him at a good steady pace, watching as Jake lost himself even more to the pleasure of Arcade’s cock rubbing at his sweet spot. He started to jerk himself again and Arcade drove into him mercilessly, knowing he was close. He kept going even as Jake’s orgasm rocked through the both of them, only a thin trickle of come seeping from his dick this time after his explosive reaction earlier. Jake’s body tightening and writhing around him had Arcade right on the brink now too, and he pounded on towards his own release. He felt that delicious lick of flame spread down his spine, up the backs of his thighs and through his balls, tipping him over the edge, sending him slamming and spilling into Jake’s body…

Jake’s legs wrapped around him and pulled him in as tight as he could go, and Arcade watched in delirious wonder as a third wave of orgasm seemed to crash through Jake. His voice was a ruin now, too hoarse to even cry out, and his exhausted limbs trembled as they coiled around Arcade. The last tremors went through Arcade and he sagged bonelessly against Jake until he had enough power to move again.

Both their bodies were shining wet with sweat when they parted. Jake’s last release had been completely dry, though clearly no less intense. When he turned towards Arcade, tears were leaking from his eyes. He read the alarm on Arcade’s face, and pulled him down to kiss him hard in reassurance.

“That was—Fuck, I don’t even know what that was,” he panted.

Arcade stroked his face. “Are you okay?”

Jake nodded. Despite how wrecked he was and the flush on his skin from all that sex, he looked more himself than earlier. Arcade dropped his head in relief.

“Please tell me you’re done now,” he mumbled into Jake’s chest.

A breathy laugh came in reply. “I think so.”

--

There were clean bed linens in the dresser. Arcade stripped the filthy sheets from the bed and threw clean ones over it, not bothering to tuck anything in. Jake fell gladly onto the cool cotton and slept. For twelve hours, he slept.

Arcade slept for a few hours too. After that he washed and dressed and kept a close eye on Jake. By the time the courier woke up, his temperature was mercifully back to normal. Arcade made him drink about a gallon of water anyway, to make sure he was fully hydrated and free of any lingering toxins.

He didn’t mention anything that had happened between them. Jake was groggy from sleep and the hangover from whatever shit he’d taken, and Arcade didn’t know how much of it he remembered. He had no idea how to raise the subject. So he didn’t.

“So, is there anyone I need to apologise to?” Jake asked him over the bowl of noodles Arcade had rustled up as breakfast. “Some of it’s still hazy.”

“Talk to Veronica,” Arcade replied. “I believe you got a little inappropriate.”

Jake nodded and looked suitably ashamed of himself. He twisted his fork in the noodles and ate in silence for a minute.

“I would apologise for getting a little inappropriate with you,” he said. He looked up at Arcade and smiled. At least now he had the decency to blush. “But truth is, I’m not sorry about that at all.”

Wow! This was perfect! Hot, intense and needy. Thank you for posting some male Courier slash, it's been so long since I've seen some here.

Legendary. I loved this!

I'm not that much of a slash reader but this was the kind of writing where, once you start, you gotta read every word or you won't be able to stop thinking about it! Fantastic.

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Page 221 of 257

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

(F!LW/Fawkes) Good Vibrations (1c/1)

(F!LW/Fawkes) Good Vibrations (1d/1)

(F!LW/Fawkes) Good Vibrations (1e/1)

(F!LW/Fawkes) Good Vibrations (1f/1)

(F!LW/Fawkes) Good Vibrations (1g/1)

(F!LW/Fawkes) Good Vibrations (1h/1)

(F!LW/Fawkes) Good Vibrations (1i/1)

(F!LW/Fawkes) Good Vibrations (1j/1)

(F!LW/Fawkes) Good Vibrations (1k/1)

(F!LW/Fawkes) Good Vibrations (1i/1i) (COMPLETE)

Re: (F!LW/Fawkes) Good Vibrations (1i/1i) (COMPLETE)

Re: (F!LW/Fawkes) Good Vibrations (1i/1i) (COMPLETE)

Fever (All Through the Night), 1a/1i

Fever (All Through the Night), 1b/1i

Fever (All Through the Night), 1c/1i

Fever (All Through the Night), 1d/1i

Fever (All Through the Night), 1e/1i

Fever (All Through the Night), 1f/1i

Fever (All Through the Night), 1g/1i

Re: Fever (All Through the Night), 1g/1i

Fever (All Through the Night), 1h/1i

Fever (All Through the Night), 1i/1i -- COMPLETE

Re: Fever (All Through the Night), 1i/1i -- COMPLETE

Re: Fever (All Through the Night), 1i/1i -- COMPLETE

Re: Fever (All Through the Night), 1i/1i -- COMPLETE