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

This was a great snapshot; felt so Dean!

Sharp, and hard. Throws you into the story- like Dead Money throws you into the Madre.

In which the Courier thinks dynamite is a bra and Chet starts to wonder what is wrong with people.
Tags: Gen, F!Courier, Chet, Crack.

“And put this on so the locals don’t pick on you for lacking modesty.”

“With all due respect, Doctor,” she replies, handing the suit back to him, “I lack any semblance of modesty.”

She takes a pair of jeans off one dead Powder Ganger, and holds them up with another’s belt. Passes up on all the shirts because they have NCRCF printed on the back, flipping corpses and frowning at them and talking to herself.

“Is she okay?” Chet asks now that the fighting’s over and he’s comfortable stepping out of the store.

“She saved my life.” Ringo says with some awe as the Courier strips the clothes off bodies only to drop them in a neatly folded pile beside.

Chet glares. “I didn’t ask for her karma qualifications, I’m askin’ if she’s goofy.”

“Good with explosives.” Easy Pete volunteers.

“Yeah, again, not what I was askin’.”

The Courier jumps up and down as she lights a stick of dynamite and tosses it into the distance. Sounds like a coyote died.

“Hey.”

“Oh, Sunny, you talked to her. You think this chick’s right in the head?”

Sunny stares at him for a moment before walking off. Chet pulls a face, and glances around, eyes finally settling on the girl fixing a bandoleer of dynamite around her chest. “I can’t be the only one who thinks this is weird!”

Suddenly, everyone stops. They draw their guns in unison, and turn to the west. “What? What’s going on?”

No one speaks, but they somehow know that at that exact moment, a bloatfly flew two feet further down the path from the cemetery than usual, including the Courier, jumping the whole way there in a dynamite bandoleer that somehow stays attached to her chest. Chet throws up his arms and heads inside the store. “You’re all goofy!”

This put the biggest grin on my face. I love it!

Anon this is so good I love Bittercup and you wrote her so perfectly! I always hoped more could have happened with her in the story. Really dig what you wrote :-)

*when I said story I meant the game by the way, not what you wrote (idk if what i said came off as offensive or anything so just telling you)

Hng. Still hoping this gets filled one day.

So much said in so few words. This is wonderful.

Hehehe :):):)

Oh, this hurts me (in the best way). This is exactly what Bitter-Root's inner monologue sounds like.

She's beauty, she's grace, she'll punch you in the face.
Tags: Het, F!Courier/Lucius, Grappling I think?

“Harder.”

She slams her palm into the dummy, wincing even before it connects. Wrong, again. The Courier circles back to her starting spot, following the same path of footprints she’s packed into the dust.

“You’re leading with the wrong foot. Harder.”

Again; she knows her arm extends too late, and her palm slips off the dummy’s forehead.

“Harder!”

Six steps with the right foot- the correct one, this time- and swings her leg up. The dummy’s head snaps off, and hangs by the canvas limply.

“Not the move I was teaching, but a fair kill all the same.”

Erin chuckles, and pushes her hair back. “Sorry. Lost my head. As did the dummy.”

Lucius doesn’t smile, though he is amused. “Harder this time.”

“Right.” she says, and stomps, and strikes.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

“Fuck!”

“I may have overestimated your skill.”

“I’m fucking telling you,” she insists, failing again, “I’m about as skilled in unarmed as they come.”

“Then prove it!” Lucius challenges, and she doesn’t register his ballistic fist has come off until the fist minus ballistics is coming towards her. She blocks- her only option when she was in position for another attempted Legion Assault- and sidesteps a left hook. She plays defensive, evading every attack effortlessly and memorizing the Praetorian’s form for adaption into her own. He favours the right- more than most righties, even- and though his speed is good, the power behind the punches is what really drives them home. When he takes the two steps she’s trying to master, she stands her ground, and takes the hit.

“You fight like a woman.” Lucius jabs.

Six stumbles back, dazed from the smack- or so it seems, until she drops into a leg sweep. Lucius falls back on an elbow. Erin gives him time to stand to make up for hitting him off-guard, but only waits until his legs are under him before her fist connects with his chest.

Lucius makes no effort to guard; every hit she makes he takes the full force of. Impressively, it doesn’t stop him from immediately aiming one of his own- which Erin dodges, or deflects. He opens in a wind-up, and Erin gives him a left-handed uppercut and a foot to the abdomen. Lucius reels back, takes a couple more steps of his own will, and adjusts his centre of gravity like he’s going to run her over, throw that superior body weight into it. Erin uses that against him; dashes across the open space, jumps, and rams her palm into his forehead. The Praetorian’s own weight works against him, as he topples backwards, and falls into the dirt. The Courier steps forward as he comes back into reality.

“I take it back,” says Lucius as he sits up on his elbows, “you fight like a cazador.”

She smiles. “So, was that satisfactory?”

“It was. You need a longer range than most of my men, but it will be a devastating opening move. You have the speed to make the first.”

“Thank you.” Six accepts, and holds out a hand. Handshake, help up, truce.
Lucius takes it, and pulls her to the ground, rolling on top of her. Erin squirms, but his knees are on either side of her thighs, and hands on her shoulders, and since he’s not only stronger, but weighs more, she puts all the force she can in a punch that short, approximating where her foot already hit him. He barely flinches. “What’s the matter, Lucius? Sore loser?”

She hits him again. “I need to make it very clear, if this were true combat, I would have bested you. You lack strength, discipline, and ruthlessness.”

“And testicles?” she mocks. Hits him again. He winces a little in the eyes, but his grip doesn’t let up.

“Don’t get cocky. I’m warning you.”

It sounds more like a warning than a threat. She loosens her fist. “Lucius, when’s the last time your place in the Praetorian was challenged?”

He shakes his head, and looks off. “Years.”

In a blink, she pulls his head down and kisses him, devouring and breathtaking. In a heartbeat more, she knees him in the testicles, and slides out from under him. He curls in on himself while Erin circles the dummy. “If I were you, I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Every man in the Legion respects you.” Lucius opens his eyes just in time to see her fitting his ballistic fist. She winks at him before punching the dummy. Stuffing flies out the back, along with shotshell. “Wow, that’s fun. Now I know why you use right straights so much.”

Lucius sits up, and stands up, slowly, looking down. “I lost to a woman. It’s a disgrace.”

She glares, and clenches the ballistic fist. She smiles sadly, gently, and puts the hand on her hip. “You lost because I’m a woman. I fight like a woman.” Six strides towards him, legs crossing with each stride. It’s impractical. It’s beautiful.

She touches his cheek with the gloved hand. “Speed, not strength. Agility, not aggression.” She curls her fingers in, and presses the pressure plate to his cheek. Lucius stays very still, and closes his eyes. His hands stay behind his back. “...Beauty, not brawn.”

Her hand unfurls, and fingertips drag up his cheekbone. She kisses him. Lucius opens his eyes. “...I’ve never met a woman like you before.”

“Almost like all women are different. Weird.”

He exhales for a long moment, blinking slowly, turning his face to press against her hand. Then he thinks better, and swallows. “I would like my glove back.”

Erin frowns, and pulls away to look at it. “I don’t know. I could have a blast with this thing.” Her lips pull up easily, and she pulls one arm from behind his back, and holds the palm up. Her left hand matches it, fingers threading between his and pulling away in one motion. He finds his reaching out after words, and a ballistic fist slides over. “I’ll have to buy one from the Gun Runners.”

“You would be a terror with one.” he says, flexing his hand in the glove. “I would also like to kiss you again.”

The Courier looks off, wetting her lips, then dips her head as she looks back to him. “I think I’d like to do more than kiss.”

Lucius’s eyebrows twitch up slightly, then return. He cocks his head to the west. She follows.

In his tent that night, between his name and her moans, she chants, “Harder, harder, harder...”

I really love this. Short fill, but packs so much punch (npi). Plus, your Lucius... gorgeous.

This hit every note I never knew I wanted. Thank you for fleshing out Carla a little more.

HOLY SHIT YES PLEASE

JFC you pulled no punches here. Boone's an idiot but he tries just so hard.

In case this wasn't clear, I liked the fic! I just need fluff now to cleanse.

Just love how you pack so much emotional content in this tiny fill. My heart.

Oh, wow, that punched me in the heart. Beautiful. Take my left kidney, A!A, you deserve it.

The breakthrough is that nothing blew up.
Tags:Gen, F!Courier & 0, Fluff.

“Everything online?”

“*As I’ll ever be.*”

“Okay,” the Courier affirmed, “here we go.”

She pressed a few buttons, flipped a switch, and stood back. The emitter lit up, and after a few moments of crackling and light building to blinding, activated.

“Well?” 0 asked, corporeally. “Did it work?”

Erin blinked her eyes open. She grinned. “Yeah, Zero. It worked.”

The hologram before her looked down at itself. “It did? O, it, uh... it really did. That... went differently than I was expecting. Namely, that nothing exploded.”

“Pretty breakthrough stuff...” Six noted, leaning against the desk and crossing her arms. “So, that’s what you used to look like? Before the war?”

Hologram 0 turned his hands over, bounced his knees, leaned in a couple different directions. Calibrating. “Assuming nothing was horrendously discombobulated in projection- yes. Major facial structures all placed appropriately?”

“Yep. Well-placed, at that.”

“Thank you, I three-dimensionally modelled it myself. Ugh. I’m still embarrassed I used to walk around in a meat bag. O, that’s what I forgot!” He lifted one leg tentatively and stretched it forward, then the other. “Walking- physically moving alternating individual limbs to achieve locomotion. How gross is that?”

Erin was about to argue, then glanced at the ungodly amount of dirt caked on her boots. “Really gross, actually.”

“Two hundred year old scientist learns to walk again! Story at eleven.”

“I’m impressed you didn’t break anything.”

“Yeah, you and me, both.”

“Hey, this was all you.” she implied as he strode mechanically around Z-83.
“Absolutely. Yeah, just me, and my giant brain in a jar. Uh, that and a lot of tinkering, repair work, and robotic expertise from a lobotomite. Who am I kidding? This was all you.”

“Thanks, Zero. Let’s just not tell the Think Tank about that, huh?”

“O, not a chance.”

He held his arms out for balance as he walked. 0 miscalculated a step, stumbling slightly. Erin smiled at him, and 0 looked down at his feet, grinning, and kept walking. When he stopped, he held his hands out for a moment longer before dropping them to his sides, and looking up. “Movement drivers all seem to be working. What do you think?”

“Try spinning.”

“Right, good idea.” He agreed, scraping one foot across the ground. Nothing happened. so he tried again. “That’s not right. Let me see if I can... O, there’s the issue, physics engine wasn’t on. Here we go.” This time, when he pushed, the rest of him turned, lab coat flying out around him. He laughed, and did it again.
“Channel Zero exclusive: Doctor would forget own pants if they weren’t attached to model.”

“That’s old news, Holt.”

She blinked, and cocked her head. “Zero, did you just call me by my name?”

He stopped spinning, a bit wobbly. “Nausea feedback’s definitely working... Well, that’s your name, right? What’s your doctorate in, again?”

“Medicine.” she lied. It was close enough; a vault internship was the closest thing to a real medical license in the Wasteland.

“Really? There are doctorates for that?” He shrugged, and did a bit more walking. “Well, you’re not really a lobotomite since you got your brain back, and now that we’re colleagues and all, I figured... Lobotomite has a lot of syllables, o-kay? You’re the only one who gets my name right, I can at least try yours.”

Erin smiled at the hologram as he stretched, lab coat sticking in the T-position as his arms clipped through. “Uh, Zero?”

“What?” His eyebrows rose, then furrowed. Even after all these years, he still knew how to work a face. “I know I animated that. Why isn’t it rendering?” He dropped his arms, lab coat sticking back into place and falling away as he pulled them up again. “Probably an issue with the filepath, I’m terrible about that. Let’s just...”

The hologram itself went into T-position, then disappeared. The intercom clicked on seconds later. “*...I broke it.*”

Erin laughed.

Tags: Gen, Mysterious Stranger, F!LW.

2277. Nineteen- that’s fifteen less than him; he did the math one night- but there’s something hard in her eyes. Harder than he thinks he’ll ever be.

Walks right up to him, uptown. Cleaning his gun in the darkest corner he could find, where no one would find him. But she found him.

“Don’t you look like something out of a pre-war noir?”

Her voice glides, like sweat down necks. Spoke so easy, he almost answered. Put his magnum back together.

“Don’t talk much?” She didn’t even seem mad, bless her heart. He hid his face under his brim. “Need anything?”

He took one .44 out of his pocket, and loaded it. Spun the cylinder, shot over her shoulder. He disappeared while she was distracted.

Anacostia Crossing, heading down the escalators when she came up. Felt so normal to him, pass someone on the metro.

“Nice seeing you again.” she’d said. He nodded, like they did in the holotapes. Hid behind a pillar when her back turned.

Old office building. Couple more holes in her armor. And skin. Didn’t see him, that time. Dark in there.

She picked up a comic book with someone that looked like him on the cover, took a few moments to flip. Didn’t know about the raiders around the corner; he’d already been. Didn’t have her gun out. He did. Six shots, one dead, hands always shaky. Alerted her to the raiders- to him, too. But he moves quick. For his age.

Didn’t mean to, at first, just kind of did. Going the same way as his next contract, not right to leave a vaultie with a 10mm to the muties. Didn’t know he was there- creepy, he knows. Habit to stay back. Couldn’t explain. She’d worry less that way.

Emptied the cylinder in a brute, has to hide in the rubble as he tries to reload. Takes him forever. Drops bullets from the shaking.

Mutant goes down, loud thump. Makes him jump, jolting what he wrestled into the cylinder out. They roll across the hardwood, and through a crack in the floor. No getting down there. Careful loading the two left in his hand. Rest of the police station to clear.

Uses what’s left in his gun on a mutant master, darts into another room. “Could really use some help in here...!” she shrieks, gunshots going off, rifles all. He digs through ammo boxes. Rifles, all.

By the time he manages to jam three .44s he found in a desk drawer into his magnum, the mutants are dead. He presses his back to a file cabinet just as she turns.

She’s just on the other side of the cabinet. Sounds like a revolver opening. Cases tinkling into a hand. Hand smacks them to a desk. Footsteps falling away. Cases rolling. He catches them before they hit the floor.

Bullets, not cases. Full cylinder of .44s, out of her own gun, left on a desk in the Germantown police station. Left for him.

He quits his job. He’s got a new one. Bodyguarding.

It’s not hard to live after her. He knows what’s safe to drink by whether or not she drinks it. Geiger counter on her wrist. She leaves Cram behind, makes too much mirelurk, and sets it out before she walks away. Sleeps every couple of days, exploring buildings or tunnels when the sun’s up, travelling in shadowy night. Loses her sometimes, always finds her again. Good at that. Never sleeps much, anyway. Scavenges while she does. Leaves any bullets he can’t use by whatever dingy mattress she’s curled up on. She leaves .44s.

Museum’s well-lit, well-populated. He hides out with the muties out front. She comes out with a ghoul. Doesn’t talk much. Takes better care of her than he does. She talks more with him around. Has a nice voice. Sings along with the radio. Or, tries to.

She steps on a landmine. Too far to see. Scream echoes for miles. Ghoul drags her back to town, long way.

He circles the city. Wonders if the water’s safe to drink. Three days, he waits. Fourth day he breaks. Goes in. She’s only got one leg, now, but she’ll be fine. Waves to him from a far walkway. He very nearly waves back.

He’s with her when she finds the man- with her since the office building in ‘77. She still has the comic. The man, older than himself, with a voice like melting ice cubes. Man with more age than wear, in a vault suit the other way ‘round. She starts giving him the .44s.

He’s not there when he dies. Picking up a contract at the time. Too far to hear her scream. Looking at her after it, though. Could still hear it.

Five days before he breaks, that time. Knows which house is hers, watched her learn to walk with one less leg, further from it each day. Feels wrong to pick the lock. Needs to see she’s there.

Ghoul’s asleep in the armchair, floor creaks like rusted protectrons. Creeps upstairs, light foot. Slow. Armor’s folder on the desk, she’s asleep. Anything but peaceful. Touches the hat resting on a file cabinet. Looks like his.

Floor creaks. Stock-still. Blue eyes creep open, blink blurry in the dark. “...Dad?”

So that’s who he was. Knows where she gets the sweat-slick voice from. Knows to turn and run, before bodyguard wakes up. Real one.

Long time before she leaves. Comes out of the vault a second time. Ready for the world, this go. Picks up the greaser. Two vault kids with 10mms he’s gotta take care of.

With her in the pit. Most scared he’s ever been. When he finds out he doesn’t need to be. She fights like she’ll be the last thing on earth alive. Believes her, too.

Vault 87 she finds him. Magnum’s loud, echoes like ricochets. Spots him as he’s hurdling around a wall. She leans right in. “I know you don’t like talking much, but I just wanted to ask a couple questions.”

Shakes his head.

“Oh, come on. Easy ones, there’s no test at the end.” Way she says it, wishes he could answer. “You doing okay?”

Nods.

“Need anything?”

Shakes.

“Just one more, you’re doing fine. I wanted to thank you. You’ve really done a lot, and I don’t even know why. I’ll respect your privacy, though. Just, one question. What’s your name?”

He tries. Really tries. Weird sounds, none of which are right. Making a fool of himself. Could run for the other door.

She’s smart, though. Bless her heart. “You sure are shaky. Are you okay?”

Shakes his head.

She blinks. Cocks her head. Smart, though. “You can’t talk... can you?”

Shakes his head.

She nods, slow. Smiles. “Nice meeting you, Stranger.”

She leaves him be.

Next sleep, he wakes up to a couple .44s. One-shots a mutie with one.

Kick ass! Mysterious stranger, such a sexy fucker.
And this writing style is strange and evocative and wonderful.

This was gorgeous. Especially adored the sharing a drink, what depending on mood.

A/N: I loved this idea from the moment I read it. So I hope the OP doesn’t mind multifills ;) Also please excuse my Spanish, I’m self taught and have the potential to be woefully awful at it. I’ll provide translations at the end of the fic.

Pairing: f!Courier/Dean

Kink/s: het, ghoul, voice, public-ish

Summary: They had waited a long time to be together, everything wanted to slow them down, including the damned elevator.

When they dropped in front of the gates to the Strip, Mickey recovered quickly, Dean however, wasn’t so lucky. She resisted the urge to chuckle as he bent over his knees, gasping.

“That’s awful! How can you just stand there?” She shrugged,

“Fast travel is a pain in the ass, but it gets you where you need to go.” He managed to stand up still panting slightly.

“It feels like my insides were just rearranged.” She smirked,

“Hey, not every RobCo invention was perfect, be thankful you don’t have to do it 20 times a day.” He smirked at her slyly.

“Well, yeah,” he replied voice dropping to a purr, “I could think of better things I could be doing.” Mickey shivered, grabbing his hand she pulled him towards the gate of her home.

“Well come on then, you can show me.” As they approached a Securitron rolled into their path.

“Please submit to a credit check.”

“A what?” Dean sighed indignantly. Mickey chuckled,

“It’s ok Roger, he’s with me.” The robot was silent for a few seconds; she guessed it was communicating with Yes Man.

“Welcome back Mickey. Please enjoy your stay.” It rolled out of the way.

“Thanks Roger.” The gates to her home opened and Mickey smiled. It was good to be back. “Come on.” She dragged Dean along and up the stairs of the Lucky 38. “Welcome to my castle.” She joked. Dean looked around, clearly impressed.

“The Lucky 38… a beacon of lavish lifestyle, even in my day.” She curled a finger into his bowtie, looking up at him through thick dark lashes.

“Want the grand tour?” He made a pleased sound, leaning down to nip her ear.

“I was hoping to start with your room.” She grinned,

“Sounds good to me.” She pulled away leading him over to the elevator.

“Howdy Partner!” Mickey rolled her eyes, wishing for once she could get from A to B without interruptions. Dean sighed loudly behind her.

“Hi Victor, Presidential Suite please.”

“Certainly, see you later Mickey!”

“Bye Victor.” They boarded the elevator; the doors hadn’t even fully closed before Dean pushed her against the wall. “Dean!” She squawked as he attacked her throat with lips and teeth.

“I’ve waited too long Michelle; a man can only take so much.” His voice dropped an octave making her squirm. She grabbed his face pulling him up for a kiss as her fingers attacked his bowtie. His tongue curled expertly around hers and she gasped. Michelle pushed closer to him ripping at his buttons with her nails. He pushed her hair back from her shoulders attacking her neck with his mouth. Dean chuckled against her throat as she moaned, his fingers played with the buttons of her shirt, undoing them before pushing it back and mouthing at her breasts through her bra.

“Oh God Dean!” In an impressive display of strength he picked her up and pushed her against the doors. She wrapped her legs around his hips, hands fisting in the back of his jacket.

“So responsive my dear, I can’t wait to fuck you on every surface.” She gasped, throwing her head back against the metal surface. He scrutinized her behind those dark glasses of his. “You – you like it when I talk don’t you?” She nodded seeing her own flushed face reflecting back at her. He chuckled, “Well, well, well, luckily for you I’m quite apt at…” he pitched his voice to a low growl sucking her earlobe, “using my mouth. For both words and other things.” He curled his tongue around the shell of her ear. His voice was doing things to her insides she’d never experienced before.

“Fuck!” He smirked devilishly,

“Oh yes, we’re going to fuck and much more. When I’m through with you, you’ll remember little but my name.”

“Oh God!”

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

Re: Dean Domino/self-pity (1/1)

Re: F!Courier + Dean Domino, "The Ghost People" (1/1)

Goofy [1/1 Complete]

Re: Goofy [1/1 Complete]

!!!!!!!

Re: !!!!!!!

Re: Potentially Odd Prompt

Re: Companions, 'Sleep Tight' 1/1

Re: Goofy [1/1 Complete]

Re: Cpl. Betsy+Bitter-Root, "All Better Now," 1/1

Harder [1/2]

Harder [2/2 Complete]

Re: Harder [2/2 Complete]

Re: Carla, 'First Dates' 1/1

Re: Fisto/The King

Re: Cactus Flower (1/1)

Re: Cactus Flower (1/1)

Re: Boone/Carla - Cactus Flower [1/1]

Re: Boone/Carla - Cactus Flower [1/1]

Render Error [1/1 Complete]

Strangers [1/2]

Strangers [2/2 Complete]

Re: Strangers [2/2 Complete]

Re: Weary Hearts [2/2]

Usted Perro Afortunado - Dean Domino/f!Courier - 1a/1