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

Thank ya! ^-^

And yes indeed-y! I just hope that they cleaned up afterwards with A LOT of bleach and Abraxo lol.

May I direct the OP's attention to this lovely fill (if you haven't read it already): http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/4237.html?thread=4570765#t4570765

That being said, I think I'll take a whack at this, I just escorted that idiot to Big Town yesterday and it was all I could do not to empty a clip into his face lol...

There's one on the meme but it's unfinished :/

Prompt anon here! Holy God, this is amazing. I've been busy with school, and work, and life, and I come back to see this and it has made my whole week, and maybe, dare I say, semester?

This is amazing. You are amazing, anon. I'm frantically guessing who it is in my mind, and I think I'm in love with Simon even though I'm a girl. I love this.

I love you,anon. I will wait for updates with bated breath, and read them with all of my heart. <3

Ohh god, you are amazing A!A. I can't even, it was so hot and perfect, truly better than I could have hoped for. I was having a really shitty day too, this made everything better.

Thank you so much, you wonderful human being!

Sergio stretched his lithe body as his mind slowly clawed its way to full consciousness, delicious little tingles sparking across his skin as relief came to some of his more sore joints and muscles. A fully lucid Pacer taking him to bed had a manner of leaving him like this.

He rolled onto his back and the lack of warmth beside him shot an instant ache straight to his gut. Not even fully awake and he was already disappointed. Wasn't this going to be a fun day. He dragged a hand through his unruly bedhead and took a deep breath, not yet ready to scold himself for letting some of his old idealism take the wheel. But as awareness began piercing his slowly dispersing haze of grogginess, he noticed a solid weight at the foot of the bed. "Noticed" meaning "accidentally kicked at".

He looked up, saw Pacer sitting on the edge of the bed, looking back at him and then away, exhaling sharply. "This is some powerful shit, man," he said under his breath.

Sergio sat up, and wow it was way too early to feel fresh outrage curling inside of him. "Seriously? You couldn't even wait until I was out of your bed to get high? Where did you even get more Jet?"

"Not Jet," Pacer said, and he suddenly lurched like he'd been hit with a wave of powerful nausea. "You sure that was Fixer? Sure Dr. Farkas didn't just give you poison?"

Sergio moved to the foot of the bed, sheets pooling around his waist, and leaned against Pacer's back. "It's a side effect of your system being flushed. Means it's working."

"Shit, it's the worst."

Sergio rubbed at his arm soothingly. "I know, sugar, but when it's done it's done."

The two sat together quietly as Pacer rode out the nasty process, Sergio resting his head against his shoulder and lightly stroking his arm. After a while, Pacer sucked in a deep breath. "Think that was the last one," he sighed.

Sergio tucked his head down, forehead pressed against Pacer's back. "Thank you for taking it," he said softly.

He felt Pacer shifting, and looked up to meet his face as he turned on the bed. He had almost forgotten what those eyes could do to him when they were sober, the way they could steal his breath when they were looking at him for real. What got him in this beautiful mess in the first place. Pacer reached out to thread a hand in his hair, leaned in to kiss him slow and soft, with a tenderness Sergio wouldn't have even imagined he possessed. "It's bullshit, you havin' to thank me for manning up," Pacer muttered when he broke the kiss.

Something about being kissed like that while his body still wore the marks of the previous night's escapades had made Sergio's heart beat a little faster, but he was always good at thinking on his feet, even if his mind was being derailed. "Call it whatever you want, I'm just grateful that you took it. Crossing my fingers that it lasts."

Pacer looked down, shook his head. "You shouldn't have to be grateful when the jackass you're with does the right thing for a change."

This was definitely unfamiliar territory, some wild emotional frontier and Sergio's natural instinct was to defuse it. "Well, technically," he said, "I'm not with you, remember?"

He had forced a lightness to his tone but Pacer was still heavy, in the way he looked at him, in the way he spoke. "I know," he said. "I want that to change. I want a lot of things to change."

He gave a sort of helpless gesture, then sighed heavily, leaning in and resting his head on Sergio's collarbone. Sergio's fingers instinctively went to thread through his hair. "I'm so goddamn tired," Pacer said quietly against his skin. "I'm so tired of being angry all the time. Everything about my turf is changing and no matter what I do, it just keeps changing."

Sergio made a soft noise of understanding. "You can only wave your arms at a bear to make it leave so many times before it just gets wise and eats you. I hate how Freeside has changed too, you know."

"How in the hell do you handle it? How are you so happy all the time?"

Sergio gave a mirthless laugh. "What gave you the impression I was happy? I'm just as miserable as anyone else here."

Pacer lifted his head and looked at him, reaching up a hand to cup his face. "Let me change that. I want to be the one to change that for you."

Something twisted in Sergio's gut and he lightly swatted Pacer's hand away. "Okay, honestly, what brought this on? When did you decide this?"

"Around the time I realized that I wasn't sleeping because I was just listening to you breathe."

Sergio sighed. "You think that sounds romantic, but that's just creepy."

"Liar." Pacer shifted closer to him, looking at him intently. "When you found that NCR woman in here, did you think about what would've happened if you did actually kill her before you started slashing?"

If he had killed the woman who was a hero to the NCR, who had done so much to help Freeside since her very first visit, who the King adored so much he'd even entrusted her with Rex... If Sergio had killed her like he'd wanted when he realized what she was trying to do, the consequences wouldn't have just been severe, they would have been fatal. He'd have been skinned alive.

"All I thought about," Sergio admitted to the loose thread he was picking at on the bedsheets in his lap, "was what it'd be like having to bury you."

Two warm hands lifted his face and Pacer kissed him fiercely, crawling into his lap until he fell back into the mattress and pressing his weight on top of him.

"This pattern has to stop, okay?" Sergio said, damning his voice for already shaking with his rising heartrate. And he knew he was saying too much but everything was coming out now and he didn't want to stop it. "I can't do it anymore. You can't kiss me like that and just break my heart again. Why in the hell do you always break my heart?"

Pacer looked at him solidly, smoothing a hand through his hair. "Because I've been living under the idea that killin' a man made me more of a man, and lovin' one made me less of a man."

"Jesus, that is so stupid. I'm serious, that is-- that is unforgivably stupid, honey."

"I know. And it's done. I'm done with that, for good. No more running away from this, I promise you."

"I have no reason to believe you," Sergio said softly, even as wild hope was skittering through his limbs. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. He very nearly felt sick from it.

"So let me prove it to you," Pacer said, dropping his head and brushing his nose against Sergio's. "I wanna be the kind of man you deserve."

"That man doesn't get wasted on chems," Sergio said, trying to hang on to his resolution even as warmth flooded his body. "That man doesn't pick pointless fights." He let his head fall back, Pacer kissing at his throat. "He doesn't get violent with me unless we've established a safeword. And he doesn't fuck other people."

Pacer's hands raked down his body and he nosed at his jaw. "Let me be that man," he said, the words spreading hot against his ear.

Sergio groaned as Pacer writhed against him, pressing him down into the mattress. "This is the last time I make this mistake," he swore breathlessly.

"I believe you," Pacer said, hands settling possessively on his hips. "And I'm gonna make it count."

glad i could brighten your day! :D

Fucking Angela. Someone send that bitch a gift basket. Filled with gift baskets.

Not the a!a, just another reader.

This could be fun. Here's what we know-

Its not Boone or Arcade.
Its someone who could reasonably be mistaken for Boone or Arcade, so we can rule out any ghouls or supermutants.
They have enough hair to run your fingers through.
They can move freely about the Wasteland. So its probabbly not Michael Angelo, although I wouldn't rule out the possibility that this courier is hot enough to cure agoraphobia.

Have I missed any?

Loved this.

Ooh. Intriguing. I'm really glad you decided to write a sequel. The first story was one of my favourite things on the meme, and I'm looking forward to seeing where this goes.

Oh god that last line is perfect.

That was incredible.

I'm trying to convey how much I enjoyed this fill, but I don't know how to put a series of gasps and squeaks into words.

"Anyone else kind of positive they're going to fail the history exam on Friday?" Everyone eating lunch at table 38 raised their hand at Roger's question. "That's what I thought. I'm noticing that we're all really bad at the 'school' part of school."

"Hey," Cass said, "it's not our fault Mr. Tejada spends half his class on his own stories instead of, y'know, teaching."

Arcade snorted. "Because you're just paying so much attention in every class."

"Ease up on Cass," Veronica said. "Good grades are for people who plan to go to college and live past graduation."

"Hey!" Cass said with an offended look.

"Guys, stop, we can make Cass feel bad later," Roger said. "My point was should we meet up and study. And by study I mean pretend to study, but in one concentrated location."

"My place is out," Boone said. "My mother was so happy when I said I was running for prom king that she converted our living room into the campaign headquarters. Incidentally, Roger, can I crash at your place?"

"If you promise to stop running for prom king," Roger shrugged.

Boone paused then looked at Arcade.

Arcade sighed. "I'll fix up the treehouse."

Veronica gave him a sardonic look. "You're not gonna freak out about your dad being suspicious over you having a boy alone in No Girls Allowed Land?"

Arcade waved a dismissive hand. "For whatever reason, old little league friends are okay. He'll probably shed manly American tears over me still having a jock friend." He looked at Boone and said, "Although you may want to leave the team beret at home, since it's red and therefore communist propaganda."

"More importantly," Cass said, "are you seven? You guys still use that tree fort?"

Boone chewed slowly, stony gaze fixed on her. "You got a problem with that?"

Cass whistled low. "Wow. Okay. Changing the subject. We can study at Ronnie's place. Right, Ronnie?"

Veronica scrunched up her face. "Stop calling me that, god."

"Hate to say it, but she's got a point. Not on the Ronnie thing," Arcade quickly held up a hand as Veronica glared daggers at him, "but it would be best if we studied at your place."

"Because of your hot dad," Cass said with a grin.

"Stop that," Veronica groaned.

"That's not... that's not the only reason we should study there," Arcade said. "It's just a plus."

"We're saying your dad is hot, Ronnie." Cass narrowly ducked the empty milk carton tossed her way.

Veronica was saved by an angel, and that angel was Julie Farkas. She tried not to light up too much at the sight of her new lab partner approaching, instead just waving to her and saying to the rest of the table, "Hey, so, I'm going to go spend my time with someone who's not going to give me trouble."

Everyone looked over their respective shoulders in the most obvious way, because of course they did. Arcade was the one to see her, and say, "Julie? Oh, god, she had said her new lab partner was a real character."

"You know her?" Veronica asked. And more importantly: she mentioned me?

"Yeah, she and I are on the Mathletes together." The rest of the table openly groaned and Arcade said defensively, "It's going to look great on my college application, okay!"

"Arcaaade," Cass said, covering her screwed up face with a hand as though to hide from the embarrassment of being friends with a Mathlete, "I will pay you actual, real money to leave Social Suicide Incorporated."

Veronica was already walking away, but not before she caught a significant look from Arcade. She knew this would come up on their next incredibly fake date, and at the moment she didn't care. Julie was smiling at her, and it was all she could do to not swing her skirts.

"Hey," Julie said as Veronica fell in place with her, walking out of the cafeteria, "I was hoping to catch you."

"Thank god you did," Veronica said, "before I murdered all of my so-called friends. I love them but I swear they live to give me trouble."

"What were they giving you trouble about?" Julie asked sympathetically.

Veronica sighed. "I'm a foster kid. It's okay, I actually live in a great home with a great foster family, and I've been there so long that my foster dad feels like my real dad most days."

Julie's brow knit together. "Do they seriously give you trouble about that?"

Veronica groaned. "No, I wish it was that. Mocking me for being an orphan would be so simple. They give me trouble because they think my foster dad is... well... handsome."

Julie blinked, then laughed softly. "Wow, I can see how that would be awkward."

"They're usually cool about it when he's actually around but once he leaves the room Cass is dramatically draping herself over the couch and swooning, "Oh, Mr. McNamara, ohhh,' and I just kind of want to die."

Julie laughed again, and held the door open for Veronica when they reached the C building.

Oh man, why did this fantastic prompt have to come into my life when I have like five WIPs open?

Seriously hoping this gets filled. Hell, I love it so much I'll probably wind up taking a go at it.

if nobody fill this, I'll do it myself.

I don't know why this has been in my head, but it has.

Exactly what it says. She demands a group of men to fuck her so thoroughly she's dripping cum out of every orifice.

SOMEONE NEEDS TO WRITE THIS REAL GOOD
I beg you. I'll have all of your baby deathclaws.

I don't know WHAT this is, but I want it. A lot.

OP sez: Do eet!

...seriously, though. If/when you feel you have the time and inspiration, a!a. The kmeme isn't going anywhere. :)

More tears but this time with sweetness.

Thank you so much for writing this. I've grown very attached to this beautiful, bittersweet pairing through reading it - both the happy ending and the sad. They're both moving in their own ways.

Arcade looked uncomfortably down at the prostitute, and the prostitute looked up at him with professional interest. He felt eyed up like a slab of meat.
“Look”, Arcade said. “I’m not here because I want to but to do a friend a favour who thought I’d need this. Let’s just not get ahead of ourselves, I’ll be out of here in a couple of minutes and you’ll have your pay and can... whatever. Sit down and have a smoke. Although honestly, those are bad for you.”
“You’re not doing me a favour with fucking off after a couple of minutes, handsome”, the prostitute said slowly. “That’d surely ruin my reputation.”
Arcade rolled his eyes in helpless desperation.
“Come on, sit down”, the prostitute said and gestured to the bed as that was the only seating there was. “And don’t worry, I won’t descend down on your precious jewels like a deathclaw on a fresh kill if you don’t want me to.”
Arcade managed to force a twisted smile onto his face, but sat down. The prostitute in turn kicked off his boots and climbed onto the bed to sit behind him. “You seem awfully tense”, he said. “My name’s Jimmy, by the way. Don’t have to tell me yours, tough. Let me do something for you. Please?”
“As long as I don’t have to make improper noises to preserve your... reputation”, Arcade replied, already capitulating to the situation.
Jimmy chuckled softly. “Only if you feel like it.” With that he pushed the lab coat down from Arcade’s shoulders and, after settling in a comfortable position, closed his slender fingers around Arcade’s shoulders and began to gently knead the tense muscles there.

After a few moments, Arcade began to relax and sighed. “This feels good, to be honest. I didn’t know that this would be part of the repertoire of a... uhm... professional...”
“Whore”, Jimmy finished for him. “You can say it, you know. It doesn’t come as a surprise.”
“It does come as a surprise to me, sitting here, I mean. With you.”
Jimmy chuckled again. “You don’t usually utilize professionals?”
“No.” Arcade realised that the answer had been spoken rather sharply and took a breath. “No offence meant, of course. It’s just... paying for something like sex... it rubs me wrong.”
Jimmy rubbed his thumbs up and down Arcade’s neck, eliciting a deep sigh of pleasure from the doctor. “You’re the first man I’ve met that has these strange kinds of scruples.”
“Men with these scruples wouldn’t come here in the first place.”
At that, Jimmy had to laugh and Arcade discovered that he had a very pleasant laugh, not the high-pitched cackle as he seemed to have expected, somehow. “True. Oh how very true. And I gather you won’t let your curiosity get the better of you, either.”
“Curiosity?” Arcade twisted his head to look at Jimmy, a task made easier as Jimmy looked around his head to look down at Arcade. “I’ve been sleeping with men for slightly more than fifteen years now. I doubt there’s anything I could be curious about anymore.”
“Huh... I tend to forget that things like these are legal among you pr... Freeside People.”
Arcade noticed him stiffen at that, ever so slightly and only for a second, but his medical observance skills kicked in and several alarms went off in his head. He twisted his head a little more. “What was that? What did you mean to say instead of Freeside people?” It occurred to him first after he had spoken that he might have chosen a more tactful, diplomatic approach to that as Jimmy went grey in the face despite his dark skin and shook his head.
“Nothing, sir, really. It was just... just jumbled letters, really.” Yet at the same time he didn’t look at Arcade anymore and the way he shrank back against the wall made a dark, unpleasant suspicion rise in Arcade.

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

A!A here...

Re: Sticky/M/F!Courier Fic

Re: M!Courier/Arcade - Recovery

Re: M!Courier/? - Remain Nameless [1c/?]-OP

OP

Pacer/Sergio - Wild For You [5.2/5 - The Ending Sergio Deserves]

Re: Pacer/Sergio - Wild For You [5.2b/5 - The Ending Sergio Deserves] - Complete

Re: OP

Re: You smell delicious.

Re: M!Courier/? - Remain Nameless [1c/?]

Re: Cave quid dicis, quando, et cui 2/2

Re: Torch Songs 4/?

Re: Ensemble - New Vegas High [6/?]

Re: Caress (6)

Ensemble - New Vegas High [7a/?]

Ensemble - New Vegas High [7b/?]

Re: M!Courier/Arcade - Recovery

Re: Evil!M!Courier/Col. Moore, non-con

Follows-Chalk/10 of Spades

F!Courier wants to be a cum dumpster

Re: Legion + NCR + other factions: 'Miss Teen Wasteland'

Re: Follows-Chalk/10 of Spades

Re: M!Courier/Arcade - Recovery

Re: Pacer/Sergio - Wild For You [5.2b/5 - The Ending Sergio Deserves] - Complete

You're the best that ever happened to me 2a/?