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

Someone is deliberately trying to make the Courier come in his pants.

(I had the delightful mental image of Arcade cornering the Courier in an abandoned building, pushing him against the wall and rubbing his cock through his trousers while whispering filth in his ear. However, any pairing is fine with me.)

That mental image is way more arousing than it has any right to be. SECONDED.

This story. The interaction between the entire crew is just flawless, but I absolutely adore the stuff between Cass and Rex. Love it so, so much.

Always excited to see this story updated, a!a. You are wonderful.

HOLY SECONDED WITH ALL THE FORCE OF A GREAT TYPHOON.

do you mean come in his pants as in, and-then-I-JIZZED-IN-MY-PANTS come in his pants or just dry sex?

If someone writes this keeping the song and using Raul I may just lose my shit okay

Thankyou! I guess I was surprised too. Writing this was weird.

Hee, either, really, but I did originally mean dry sex. :)

Thankyou! I'm grossed out too, so I understand. Seriously, I don't know what pushed me into writing this, but I'm glad someone else read it, and enjoyed it.

And thanks for commenting too, by the way. I don't write that often, it's nice knowing what people think of what I write.

That's assuming he survives the dual Ballistic Fist/shotgun castration Veronica and Cass would inflict.

I can easily see Cass doing this, drunk or not.

Just a discreet slip into one of Gomorrah's hotel rooms and the Courier would be assured of privacy. It was a place where undercover Legionaries were given a wide berth if recognized, and overlooked if unfamiliar. If she was recognized, she had enough on Cachino that he wouldn't try to escalate their war of blackmail if it wasn't absolutely necessary. He was an odd one to manage- she would give him her customary smile and glimpse of cleavage during negotiations, but never let it go farther than that. There are some men you don't try to play, at least not without a poisoned cocktail nearbye.

The Courier's sweet-voiced spy was waiting for her in his room, his sunglasses off for once and his tie looser than before.

"I came as soon as I could. Oh Vulpes, thank you so much for meeting me in the city!"

"An easy matter to arrange, given your preference. Mister Fox has enough business among the profligates that a residence is not out of the question."

The Courier slipped off her stole, revealing her sleeveless (and backless) dress and the curves it hugged.

"I guess I do like it better here. That camp puts me on edge. Shall I fix us drinks?"

"You know I do not-"

"Just for me, then." The Courier went over to the mini-bar the room had come with and made a show of pouring herself a great deal of vodka. Vodka, of course, was colorless, making it all the more easy for her to pour ice water when Vulpes's back was turned.

Returning, she took a large sip and appeared to shudder. Always make your opponent think they have a greater advantage than they do...

"Now then. I know you want me to work for you, but you have to understand my difficulties. The way the soldiers look at me- I even heard some of them talk about trying me out!" Actually, Siri had, but it didn't do to give away allies.

"The talk of soldiers, nothing more. If it upsets you, though, I promise I will cut out the tongue of the next man to speak such things." Vulpes motioned for her to sit beside him, and when she did, he placed his hand gently on her bare thigh. His hands were more calloused than she had expected, but she gave no sign of discomfort. Boone's hands were rough as well- it seemed to be a gunman's trademark.

"Courier. You have heard Caesar tell you what he desires. If you will listen, though, there is more I would have of you."

"Would you?"

"I began to tell you at camp, but we were not truly alone, or not enough for me to speak freely." Vulpes paused, one of the few times she'd ever seen him at a loss for words. Though he recovered his speech shortly, she filed away the mental image for reference. "You know I would give my life for Caesar. Any soldier in the Legion would do the same."

The Courier nodded, and he continued.

"Unless another successor is found, rule of the Legion will pass to Legate Lanius when Caesar dies. Have you heard of him?"

The Courier shuddered.

"Is something the matter?"

"His name was mentioned at the camp. I was told to beware of him." That much was true, making improvisation easier. "They said he'd been following me at a distance since I arrived."

"I did not see him." Vulpes's voice stayed the same, but his grip on her thigh had tightened.

"Perhaps they imagined it, then. I gather you don't like him?"

"A fine warrior. Finer even than myself." Another pause, and Vulpes did not speak until the Courier put her arm about his shoulder. "Unsuited for command of a nation."

"Caesar wouldn't appoint someone like that, would he?"

"He has had little choice. Until now." He looked her in the eye, unblinking. "If a woman may be a doctor or a priestess, perhaps one may become an Empress."

The Courier gasped.

"You don't mean-"

"I do not know. I have done my best to convince Caesar to turn his gaze toward a certain woman, beloved by all the tribes he wishes to join him. A woman already believed by some to have strange powers, rising from the dead when assassins laid her low. The Legion would continue to be a great power, but now with a face to inspire love."

So that's what his game was. A power grab, with her as figurehead. At least he'd put all his cards on the table now, and she wouldn't have to keep guessing.

"I- I would need to think about that. I've sort of blundered my way through this far, I don't know if I could manage-"

Vulpes shut her up with a kiss. This one took her by surprise, and left her gasping.

"I know you could, Courier. And that is enough."

I read this awesome fill featuring the Misfits and I discovered how much I actually like them.

Callsign is Grizzly
http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/4237.html?thread=6556813#t6556813

So now I want the Misfits get some loving. If you pair them up with each other in any constellation or with the Courier and companions (I kinda envision Cass/OHanrahan, Arcade/Pointdexter, Mags/Boone and Razz/F!Courier because she can be a mean little smartass bitch) is not really relevant as long as the Misfits get some consensual happy lovings.

Over and out.

The lone wanderer gets captured by a gang of ALL female raiders where they threaten to kill him unless he pleasures all of them

Bonus points for:
- If he enjoys it and asks if he can stay
- He get's one (Or all of them if you want) pregnant

I tried, OP. I hope this is what you wanted.

~~~

It was incredible to Arcade that he had once felt something like affection for the girl they all called Six. She had managed to survive a point-blank shot to the head, claw her way out of her own grave, and proceed to claw her way to the top of the metaphorical New Vegas totem pole. He used to fondly look back on the day she found him at the Old Mormon Fort, smoothly asking him if he wanted to help her change the Mojave. She used to inspire such admiration and awe.

Now, she inspired nothing but terror and revulsion.

The first time it had happened, Boone tried to attribute it to a sick form of PTSD, doggedly ignoring Arcade’s assertion that eating people was not, in fact, a symptom of being shot in the head. At least that one was already dead when she sank her teeth into his forearm.

The next time it happened, the Legionarie hadn’t even stopped coughing up blood when the Courier knelt down and ripped his throat out with her teeth. But that wasn’t even the worst part; the worst part was when she began to moan between wet bites of flesh and her hand disappeared beneath her skirt. Boone remained stony-faced as they walked away, unable to pull her away from her kill. In response to Arcade’s alarmed cry of [i]what the fuck, you can’t tell me that’s because she was shot in the head![/i], Boone just responded that he didn’t give a shit how she killed Legionaries as long as she was killing them.

The third time it happened, it was too late for Boone to admit he had seriously mistaken the Courier’s reasons for cannibalism. She had slit the throat of a young NCR soldier on patrol, but just as she was bending her head to bite off the soldier’s ear, Boone struck her across the temple with the butt of his rifle.

“I can’t stand by and let you do this shit,” Boone growled, stepping toward her as she scrambled backwards, one hand to her bleeding temple. “The NCR may not be perfect, but I served with these men.”

Instead of responding to Boone, Six turned her wide eyes on Arcade and said, “Arcade, help me.”

For a moment, Arcade felt a wave of sympathy for her, just a poor bleeding girl with a bullet in her head and a psychologically fucked-up sniper’s rifle in her face.

Then she surged forward like an animal, tugging the business end of the rifle past her with one hand and swinging her bloody knife for Boone’s throat with the other.

All of Arcade’s sympathy vanished as Boone fell to his knees, crimson spewing from his jugular. He stared at Arcade from over his skewed sunglasses, his eyes both shocked and accusing.

The Courier knelt beside Boone, gripping the collar of his bloody shirt, closed her mouth over the slit in Boone’s throat and sucked hard, moaning deep in her throat as she did so. Boone’s eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped against Six’s shoulder, dead. Arcade watched, frozen in horror, as she let him drop with a sickening thud and straddled him, rocking against his pelvis as she sank her teeth into his neck.

Arcade turned abruptly and started staggering away, but before he could get far, he had to stop and vomit on his boots. He didn’t have time to register the filth and the horror and [i]oh my God, she slaughtered him like a Brahmin[/i] before he felt the cool metal kiss and click of a pistol against the back of his head.

“Not so fast, Arcade,” she said in the same smooth voice she used the day she picked him up at the Old Mormon Fort. “Stay for dessert.”

This is Author!Anon. Sorry about the formatting. x_x

Someone, somewhere, at sometime mentioned this pairing on the world wide interwebs.

And now I can't see them without each other.

I'm open for anything on this. As long as its consensual.

Thank you! XD

A+ POST, WOULD READ AGAIN

F!Courier, Vulpes Inculta, The Divide, Het, Het Pairing, Kink, BDSM, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Male Dom, Caesar's Legoin, Legion, New Vegas

Sets me on fire (Summer girl)
She set's me on fire
Sets me on fire
Fire
-Type O Negative

The pass came out to a ravine on the edge of one of those small dirt towns made out of old billboards and scrap metal. A rinky-dink windmill churned it’s blades in the summer sun, bringing water up from a deep well, and so that was where Vulpes Inculta started out towards. He carried a bundle of letters from a settlement on the other side of the mountains, they were of no real importance to anyone but the city official he would soon meet up with in this dirty little town, but the job gave him cover to see if there were any new troop movements in NCR territory.

The Frumentarii playing courier walked slowly towards the old well, watching a female figure begin to prime the pump to fill a humble wooden bucket. The woman’s long dark hair fell in clumpy spirals, teasing the dirt as she leaned over to lift the bucket. Her soft dark eyes met his and she smiled at the man who had come to join her at the well.

“Are you here for a cool drink of water?” The woman asked with a deep sultry voice.

“If you knew who I was, you probably wouldn’t ask me that,” Vulpes said for a reason he couldn’t understand.

The woman chuckled quietly to herself, and dipped a ladle she had at her side in the water and then offered him a drink. His hand reaching out, Vulpes took the ladle and swallowed the clean liquid. As he returned the ladle to the tall dark haired woman he watched her curiously, she was probably ten years older than he was, and there was something almost mystical about the way she stood in front of him.

“So what brings you this way wanderer?” The woman asked.

“I’m a courier hired to deliver a package,” Vulpes said, seeming like an aloof man here to complete business. “I meet my client tomorrow. Tell me good woman, would you be so kind as to direct me to the inn.”

Managed to write this before move. Will have more next month.
“This town is too small for such things. There is a man in town who rents out his lean-to, but you don’t strike me as the type who would want to sleep next to a cow. Your other option is to try to rent a room from someone in town.”

“Do you have a room?” Vulpes Inquired with a gentle quality, so she would not think him to forward, “That is would your husband mind if I rented from you.”

Looking at him like he had told the punch line to a joke she had heard long ago, then shifted the bucket onto her other arm.

“I suppose you haven’t come to this town before, and you don’t know of the washer woman on the edge of town whose husband passed away ages ago; leaving her alone with a child. I have no one to ask Courier, so for five caps I will let you stay in the spare room of this house.”

There was something odd about this woman; probably she had just known such much sorrow in her life it left her with this burden of sorrow that made her a terrible and beautiful thing. He followed her to the house, her bucket weighing her so that she moved slowly. Inside the door she dropped the water into a larger tub, and he placed five caps on the table.

Gesturing towards a spare room, Vulpes walked inside and found a small clean made bed with a worn bureau next to it. He set his pack on the floor next to the bureau and turned as he heard the woman step back outside to fetch more water. The place smelled of soap and moisture, but retained a solemn quality that seemed fitting to a widow who had chosen to live alone in honor of a long dead husband.

Something stirred in the room on the other side of his, and Vulpes stepped out into the main room. He looked towards the cracked door, prepared to pull a weapon and fight if need be. Instead what he saw through the crack was a young woman of about nineteen or twenty tying her hair back. She shuffled through a pack, and began to sort some papers inside and began to read over them, they looked like figure sheets, and she seemed excited by whatever numbers they held.

The girl turned then, to peer out a window, perhaps to see what her mother was doing. She struck Vulpes the second her saw her face, the woman in front of him was a small sun kissed version of her mother, only with hair bobbed short, and a spark of life inside of her that burned from her eyes like a candle.

He wished to extinguish her in this moment. To reach out and snuff that brightness from his eyes, that he might hold it in his hands, and teach her a fierce majesty, born of suffering, which would put her noble mother to shame. Unfortunately before he could act, the washer woman began to open the door, the bucket slowing her, allowing Vulpes time to position himself so that he did not look like he was watching her daughter.

This time the old washer woman moved to the stove, and poured the water into a pan. She added meat, a few diced potatoes, and some leaves people use for seasonings from time to time. A few hours passed and the soup was served, poured into carved wooden bowls and set on the table. No words were passed between the two women and Vulpes, and he tried to focus on the strange smell of laundry and stew instead of the young woman across from him.

“Mom tells me that you‘re a courier,” The girl said, too young to sit patiently in silence forever. “I think that’s cool, I’m a courier too. I’ve been trading with this community inside of the divide between the mountains. It’s at the edge of a small military base.”

Vulpes watched the her for a significant period of time before responding. He wanted to make sure he had control of his lust before he reacted, luckily his silence made him seem like he was a thoughtful man, and not dangerous. He had heard of this place between the mountains and had sent one of his best men into The Divide to find out if anything inside of it was worth taking.

“You must be new at the job,” Vulpes said, forcing a weary smile across his cold face, trying to not look eager for this conversation to continue. Not wanting this creeping need to posses her this betray itself, as it made little sense even to him that he would be so struck by this girl.

“Yeah, I’ve been at it about a year,” the girl responded with a jovial tone.

“My name is Alan Fox,” Vulpes said. “I do work for the Mojave Express from time to time, perhaps I could tell my boss your name, and he could give you a job if you’re ever in Primm. You know the town with the roller coaster near New Vegas. If you’re out there and can get a delivery coming back is the ideal situation.”

“I’m Julia Hernandez,” she responded with a laugh. “I’ve saw New Vegas from the Mojave Outpost one time. I got a gig to pick up a package from there. It was really neat to see the lights on the horizon at night. Someday I hope to have enough caps to make it to the strip.”

A grin beamed from the older man’s face to young Julia, making her feel a bit uncomfortable, and causing her mother to stir and involve herself in the conversation.

“My little Julia is such a help,” Mrs. Hernandez said, causing Vulpes to refocus on his soup. “She always makes sure her mother has what she needs to get by. She’s a good generous girl, and I appreciate your offer to help her find work.”

The older woman picked up the pot that held the soup then and put more soup into each person’s bowls. Refusing to look Vulpes in the eye, he noticed her hand shook as she offered him more. Her fear was palpable to Vulpes, but would perhaps be well hidden to other people. She was a broken sober soul and it made upsetting her only mildly rewarding.

A look passed between the washer woman and Vulpes, a quiet understanding occurring between them that let Vulpes know her daughter was a nice girl, and Mrs. Hernandez intended to keep it that way. The Frumentarii felt something burn inside of him, a fire he had forgotten could ravage his soul, tear his heart, and make him desire a woman so wantonly. It nagged at him while he ate his soup and he blamed her.

Julia. The name of the devil, a small cherub faced girl with skin like the scorched desert floor. He’d love to run his tongue down that skin. To feel her hair tickles him as she planted kisses on his stomach. He was a man of Legion, he reminded himself, he was her superior, and women were weak. The idea of twisting one the way he had been twisted, of possessing her as she lost these fleeting moments of childhood innocence was like sugar on his tongue. He could have her if he desired her, and he did. He deserved at least this much.

Standing up from his dinner, the bowl empty even though he couldn’t remember draining it, Vulpes thanked his hostess and walked to his room to rest. He could wait for this, try to sate his need, and move when things were ready. It would blow his cover to make off the girl tonight and the web of lies he wove as a spy were more important than any two bit piece of ass that belonged on her back in a raid-tent.

What troubled him the most was why this sudden obsession. Vulpes prided himself on being invulnerable to such dissolute desire. He paced his room for about an hour before bed, assuring himself that he should forget this want, move on from this town and forget the girl had ever existed. Then he hear her speaking to her mother on the other side of the door.

Julia's voice was sweet in a way few women’s voices could be. It was higher than her mothers and always sounded optimistic. She wouldn’t be the first woman to be stolen by a Legionary so that she could serve him in bondage, but something about the way she moved around free made him think a collar would be as sad thing sitting on her neck. . He pressed his hands, he pushed himself outside of himself, and looked down at the pathetic mess pacing the floor. They had barely spoken, this didn’t make sense. He needed to try to forget she was here and move on.

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

M!Courier/Anyone

Re: M!Courier/Anyone

Re: Keep Your Composure 11/?

Re: The Ultimate Challenge (M!Courier/Veronica)

question!

Re: F!Courier/Any male... Lapdance.

OP - Re: OP Autofill: The Glowing One, 7/7

Re: question!

OP - Re: OP Autofill: The Glowing One, 7/7

Re: About last night.... a month ago

Re: M!Courier/Anyone

Torch Songs 7/?

Torch Songs 8/?

Love for the Misfits

MLW/female raiders (Non-Con)

Dessert

Re: Dessert

Charon/Willow flirty/smutty/ghoulie het

Re: Little Green Men? 7/7

Re: Mick/Ralph -- Feel Strange And Unprotected [1d/1]

Set Me On Fire

Set Me On Fire (1b)

Set Me On Fire (1c)

Set Me On Fire (1d)

Set Me On Fire (1e)