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

Moore's Ranger training, disused but not forgotten, kicked in. She leaned to the left and the cuffs clanged against the door, bringing her arms up to deflect the follow up punch into the door.

Six's fist crashed into unforgiving steel, eliciting a short yelp of pain and a brief second to check the damage. No bones broken, fortunately and he still had his other hand. He threw a left hook at Moore's face, but she ducked seizing his forearm, opening him up for a shot in the kidneys. The paralyzing shock of the blow caused Six to seize up, an opportunity Moore wouldn't pass up. Moore, in one swift movement, swept Six's legs out from under him, pinned him the the ground and straddled his waist.

Moore had him. She had the most dangerous man in the Mojave, the Demon Spawn, the Soultaker, the Motherfucker of the Mojave, pinned underneath her. No only that, she bested him in a fight, something not even the Brotherhood of Steel could manage. She took a second to reflect on the irony of it all: the Brotherhood made her unable to fight, yet they couldn't kill this one man.

The colonel was snapped out of her thoughts by the squirming man under her. What to do about Six? He was obviously a threat, an enemy of the state, and he did just attack her. Better just kill him.

Hands wrapped themselves around Six's throat, nails dug into skin, windpipe constricted. Six panicked, grabbing Moore's wrists in an effort to stave off strangulation. Six's vision blurred, his throat burned, then suddenly Moore stopped.

The colonel shifted her seat on Six's pelvis. She felt something hard poking her in the backside. She scooted forward and reached behind her, between Six's legs.

“Well,” Moore grinned, a wicked, wicked grin at her captive, “it seems you enjoyed that more than you let on.”

Arcade was not expecting the fist that connected with his face, any more than he suspected the man who was attached to it.

Francine Garrett shouted commands at the guards, who were spurred into halting motion. They peeled five feet and seven inches of snarling insults off Arcade and flung the man into the street with casual indifference, then hauled Arcade to his feet. James Garret slid a whiskey down the bar at him, winked, and said "This one's on the house," as his twin grumbled that she would never have consented to purchase the damn thing if she'd known it would lead to so many fistfights.

Arcade accepted the dirty, warmish liquor and downed it in one graceless swallow. Confidence bolstered, he staggered up the stairs towards the Courier's suite, ignoring the chuckles and cat calls from the bar below.

Bastards were jealous, that was all.

“Get. Off. Me,” Six growled at her. Bad enough he gets captured by his nemesis, now she's feeling up his hypoxia boner.

“I don't think so,” Moore gave his package a squeeze to make her point, “I'm going to blow off some steam. Try to resist,” She gripped a little harder, making Six arch his back slightly, “and I'll break you.”

Moore spun around, pinning Six's arms to the ground with her legs. Bum leg, my ASS! Six thought bitterly. She licked her lips as she got to unbuckling his pants. Six did not make it easy for her.
Six couldn't see anything with Moore's plump rear in his face. If he could just head butt her where it hurts... Six's train of thought was derailed when a warm pair of lips enclosed around the tip of his dick.

“Oh god...” Six breathed out. Moore's mouth was hot, wet, and her tongue was doing things that just shouldn't happen. He felt the tip of his manhood reach the back of her throat, then Moore pulled back till the tip was still in her mouth only to go back down again. Six was helpless, pinned under Colonel Moore and getting blown against his will. He bucked his hips, thrashed ineffectually but his defiance faltered when a strong hand firmly closed around his sack, and died completely when her teeth lightly dug into his shaft.

Resuming her blowjob, Colonel Moore bobbed her head, sucking hard and swirling her tongue around the head. She firmly kneaded his testicles, his chocking back sounds of pleasure making her wetter than she's been in years. In some part of her mind, she knew this was wrong, but that part was swiftly drowned out by the parts egging her on.

A steady series of grunts indicated Six was about to lose it. Moore pulled her mouth off his dick with a obscene slurp. Six panted, resuming his efforts get free, his own body telling him to lay back down and take it. He managed to worm one arm free; he didn't have enough leverage for a truly devastating blow, but he eyed the growing wet spot hovering in front of his face. He brought his fist back...

… only to feel Moore's mouth on his cock again. The sensation of soft sucking lips reduced his bones to jelly. Six couldn't hold back a groan, which raised to a high-pitched gasp as his cock entered her throat. Stop enjoying this, dammit! He thought, trying to get some sense through the euphoric haze, Be a man a knock her block off, you are being VIOLATED! Moore gagged, her throat squeezing his shaft, pushing her victim closer and closer to orgasm.

But just as he was about to cum, she pulled off. Again.

“Just stop, please,” Six didn't have the energy to fight. Begging wasn't beneath him though.

“I'm just getting warmed up,” Moore responded cooly. She spun around to face Six. She rearranged his arms so that his arms were pinned by her legs.

Moore made a show of removing her armor and her shirt letting Six betray himself by stealing quick glances at her lean torso and perky breasts. Her pants came next, quickly kicking them off so as not to let her victim escape. Now completely naked, it was time to get what she came for.

Raising her hips up and over his twitching rod, Moore rested her lady lips just on the tip. She wanted to savor the look on Six's face, a combination of shame and...anticipation?

“Moore, don't,” Six begged. Moore smirked and then plunged Six's member into her hot tunnel. Both their eyes rolled into the backs of their skulls.

The feeling was amazing. Moore hadn't been laid in years, her job always came first and it would be untoward for an officer such as herself to be seen canoodling with wasteland locals. But here, she had power, she had control, she had release, but most importantly, she had secrecy. After all, who were they going to believe if this got out? Him? Or a senior ranking officer of the NCR?

Colonel Moore bounced her hips on Six's, his shaft sliding noisily in and out. She leaned forward, getting right in Six's face. She breathed huskily in his ear, moaning and groaning as she rode him harder, trying to get a reaction. Six wasn't having it.

Her pounding got more urgent, and her moans were increasing in pitch. Six felt her walls clench around him, hard. Moore screamed in his ear as she rode out her climax. She slipped off Six's rod before he could, relishing the annoyed sound that came from his throat and how his cheeks turned bright red in shame.

Six made no attempt to move, simply lying on the hard ground. Moore lent down and gripped his shaft in her hand. It was hard, throbbing, and slick with her own juices. She pumped him fast and hard, her hand flying over his hardness.

He grunted as he came, his seed spilling out over her hand. He didn't look, his face betraying his mind's location: far away.

“Well that was fun,” Moore said. Her voice betrayed no emotion, but there was some triumph in it, “I'll have some troopers escort you to a proper holding cell. You'll face a firing squad tomorrow.”

Six said nothing. He pulled his pants back up. Curled into a ball and laid there, his eyes were blank and didn't move. Moore dressed herself and walked out just as noisily as she came. Six's rational brain was off, only the parts that involved his survival remained. He had to escape.

A metallic glint on the floor caught his attention. He slid himself closer to see what it was: a bobby pin. One of Moore's bobby pins. Must have fallen out while she...did what she did. This was his ticket out of here.

The lock was only a five pin tumbler, child's play. The troopers sent to detain him were fragile, their necks broken like dried cactus. Uniforms and weapons stolen, escape through one of the outtake tunnels, into the bright light of the Mojave.

Only then when he was far away, on the outskirts of Vegas, did he scream.

That was the worst thing I've ever written.

I'm most definitely going to hell for this.

Anyway, post your comments and heap the mounds of scorn this deserves on me.

Just... WOW. Anon, I hope you will update this soon...

James Garret, surprisingly enough, wasn't one of those jealous bastards. He had commissioned the Courier to retrieve the sexbot and though it had only been for himself, he enjoyed the idea of other customers using FISTO's services.

He'd watch the customers hide their faces as they walked up the stairs to that dark little room. A red-haired cowgirl drunk on whiskey. A blonde hard ass sneaking out for a night from the dam. He imagined the way FISTO worked his icy talons between their thighs, working them with mechanical precision designed for the utmost pleasure. Sometimes he would make a point to walk by the room while FISTO was performing his programmed functions, and he would get a brief sound of turning chassis or creaking arm. It sent shivers up his spine to know his robot, his FISTO was being used and exploited.

The redhead would usually sleep after FISTO had already left, as shown by the imprint of crumpled sheets on her face when she would finally make her way downstairs.

But the blonde would leave immediately, outfit still looking freshly-pressed, with her glaring face only slightly softened. James Garret had watched her enough to know that that softened face was one of pure bliss.

Yup, that's right. Because I live under a rock (a very old-fashioned rock), I have no clue what the bleeping bleep all those crossover prompts are about (Apart from the on about the wizard of Oz, because not even I live under so deeply under rocks), so I make my own. Anyone care to join me? Cause, like, I'm gonna autofill the shit out of this one.

Any characters or pairings; smutt, fluff, crack, angst, Fallout 1, 2, 3 or New Vegas... ANYTHING GOES, Anons!

Thank you, Anon, it was great! XD

I just finished Lonesome Road AND SO MANY EMOTIONS, but most of all: my little ED-E! ;_; My heart is bleeding for this little eyebot with his excited/sneaky beeping and human mating calls! And Whitley who made him into such a cute little nerd homgosh.

Can I have a fill in which Whitley does make it out to the Mojave, finds ED-E and the Courier, and they bond over their adoration for the eyebot. Fluff, sex, relationship, cuddling ED-E, just... I desperately need this. I refuse to accept any other truth than that he survived and there was a happy reunion. D:

So Graham had to have a slave right? Or maybe she was called a wife, but we know what it means to be part of the Legion, don't we?

Anyways how about a story about the one who was left behind? Was she killed shortly after Graham was pitched into the Grand Canyon? Was she sold off to someone else? Does she do common labor now and misses him? Is she trying to find him again? Does he miss her? did she have his kid?

Lets answer some or all of these questions in a kink meme prompt. I don't care about smut, but it works well. I don't care if they are reunited in this world or the next, I just want a good story! Fill as you feel Anon's.

As Julia walked from the hill the sun was streaming down through her hair from above, highlighting the black with an otherwise invisible auburn. She smiled at him, shielding her eyes from the hard rays of the sun, and waving her hand over her head in a care free manner. He waved back, the power to crush her simple friendly happiness with a few choice words burning a hole in his stomach. She picked up a heavy bundle she had put down when she saw him, and Julia ran over to Vulpes.

“Going east?” She asked with a sparkle in her dark eyes.

“My body is moving eastward, but for the love of my king I always look westward,” He said.

“Me,” Julia said with a bragging tone, ignoring the ominous way he spoke, “I have no king or country. I’m a rolling stone and I ain’t gonna gather no moss. I heard something like that in a song once. I think that’s how the words went, anyways, I’m not gonna stop walking until I have enough money to buy me and mom a nice place to live.”

“You love your mother it seems.”

“Of course,” Julia responded, “Plus I feel like I owe her for being there after our dad died. She’s worked very hard.”

“She’ll earn her eternal reward some day,” Vulpes said, unable to hide a slight smirk. “So are you going to follow me where I’m going carrying such a big package?”

“I have to take this to The Divide,” Julia responded, “I was hoping if you didn’t pick up anything to carry back east you’d follow me. We could probably both get stuff to take to New Vegas in The Divide. They usually need someone to trade with, in the pass. Plus it’s a lot faster than going around the mountains.”

“The Divide,” Vulpes repeated almost too quite to hear. He remembered one of his best men was supposed to be on recon inside, and it had been awhile sense he had heard out of Ulysses. “I suppose I could be persuaded to follow you. I have to drop these papers off at a town a little south of Nipton, but if you could bare my company I’d have yours.”

“I’m hoping you’ll see I do a good job and introduce me to some of your contracts in Primm,” Julia said, still smiling.

“I’ll introduce you to things you’ve never imagined. Sights, sounds, ideas, a world of things you never dreamed of,” Vulpes said, his voice conveying a delicate wonder that had an effect on the girl. “Stick with me, and your life will be something you never knew it could be.”

Laughing Julia skipped ahead of him a little, her lanky body betraying the visual qualities of unspoiled youth. She had an easy gate missing from most adults, and where the brilliance of a deep melancholy made her mother shimmer with a tragic beauty, Julia was simply a free sunny soul, radiant as it burned with life’s pleasures. It wasn’t that she was remarkably pretty, but she had come of age in a world more sheltered from brutality than most. Plus she was right about one thing, she was free of God or country. Julia could conquer the world and only answer to herself at the end of the day.

testing

As Julia walked from the hill the sun was streaming down through her hair from above, highlighting the black with an otherwise invisible auburn. She smiled at him, shielding her eyes from the hard rays of the sun, and waving her hand over her head in a care free manner. He waved back, the power to crush her simple friendly happiness with a few choice words burning a hole in his stomach. She picked up a heavy bundle she had put down when she saw him, and Julia ran over to Vulpes.

“Going east?” She asked with a sparkle in her dark eyes.

“My body is moving eastward, but for the love of my king I always look westward,” He said.

“Me,” Julia said with a bragging tone, ignoring the ominous way he spoke, “I have no king or country. I’m a rolling stone and I ain’t gonna gather no moss. I heard something like that in a song once. I think that’s how the words went, anyways, I’m not gonna stop walking until I have enough money to buy me and mom a nice place to live.”

“You love your mother it seems.”

“Of course,” Julia responded, “Plus I feel like I owe her for being there after our dad died. She’s worked very hard.”

“She’ll earn her eternal reward some day,” Vulpes said, unable to hide a slight smirk. “So are you going to follow me where I’m going carrying such a big package?”

“I have to take this to The Divide,” Julia responded, “I was hoping if you didn’t pick up anything to carry back east you’d follow me. We could probably both get stuff to take to New Vegas in The Divide. They usually need someone to trade with, in the pass. Plus it’s a lot faster than going around the mountains.”

“The Divide,” Vulpes repeated almost too quite to hear. He remembered one of his best men was supposed to be on recon inside, and it had been awhile sense he had heard out of Ulysses. “I suppose I could be persuaded to follow you. I have to drop these papers off at a town a little south of Nipton, but if you could bare my company I’d have yours.”

“I’m hoping you’ll see I do a good job and introduce me to some of your contracts in Primm,” Julia said, still smiling.

“I’ll introduce you to things you’ve never imagined. Sights, sounds, ideas, a world of things you never dreamed of,” Vulpes said, his voice conveying a delicate wonder that had an effect on the girl. “Stick with me, and your life will be something you never knew it could be.”

Laughing Julia skipped ahead of him a little, her lanky body betraying the visual qualities of unspoiled youth. She had an easy gate missing from most adults, and where the brilliance of a deep melancholy made her mother shimmer with a tragic beauty, Julia was simply a free sunny soul, radiant as it burned with life’s pleasures. It wasn’t that she was remarkably pretty, but she had come of age in a world more sheltered from brutality than most. Plus she was right about one thing, she was free of God or country. Julia could conquer the world and only answer to herself at the end of the day.

For two days the duo hiked through desert and mountain, finally arriving at the mouth of The Divide. They had made simple camp on the eve of each night, trading off watch in order to make sure the other could slumber safely. It was during these watches that Vulpes would glance over to Julia’s backpack and watch as she laid resting. She slept like she was, peaceful and uninhibited. Sometimes he’d venture to brush a thick curl out of her face, or lean in to smell the sweaty fragrance of a woman.

She was intoxicating, and it took every fiber of his being not to grasp her by the arms, rip her clothes off, and teach her the dangers of men. He’d roll over in his mind how this would come to pass eventualy, once she trusted him enough, once she needed him enough. He’d take her in a way that suited him and leave her to follow him not knowing what else to do. It was easy enough, get her liquored up, or take her when she was half asleep and then convince her it was part of a great blossoming love. Then once she was at Cottonwood Cove she’d learn the real price that had to be paid for his affections. Part of him couldn’t wait to see here like that, on bended knee, wearing the thin dress that passes as clothes for a pleasure slave, begging him to give to her what she thought he had given freely before.

He would own her. Vulpes repeated these words to himself as he walked into a small town clustered between great rocky ravines. The old world buildings were in better repair than most, and a few small shacks were built up between the buildings out of random metal and wood. There were an abundance of small gardens, and a few larger sections marked as community farms. It seemed this was a primarily agricultural community that pooled its resources for the greater good. It even seemed they had started rudimentary Big Horner and Brahmin ranching on the edge of the settlement where some of the desert brush grew in thick veins.

The air in the community was light, and it seemed to infect Julia. He grimaced as he realized she was headed for an NCR building. It seemed the NCR had already moved into this place, ignoring the town as they dug into an old vault looking for new technology. This was what Julia had come to deliver; a box containing some robot they thought might be related to missile silo’s resting under the earth. It made Vulpes smile to think of the happy community above, with its destruction festering in warheads and silo’s scattered under and about the old world compound.

“I’ll show you were the inn is Mr. Fox,” Julia said with a cheery voice as they approached a long building probably used as an office before the war.

“Call me Alan for now, my dear,” Vulpes responded and attempted a kind smile from his normally stoic face.

“Alan,” Julia repeated, “It sounds to casual for you. I’d give you a far more exotic name.”

This forced a brief, harsh laugh from the lips of the Legionary as he followed behind his guide. Once inside Julia insisted on paying for his room, a bounty of caps now swinging in her pocket making her feel generous. Vulpes thanked her and made his way to a sparse but clean room, with a long bed made up with a hand sown quilt. He took stock of the room, enjoying the sunlight that streamed in through the small window, and looked outside.

What he saw in the yard made him grow stiff with anger. His hand grasped the windowsill, his knuckles white with rage. Outside Julia was wrapping her arms around the neck of a well tanned young man, and giving him a small kiss as he spun her through the air. She then settled down against the boy’s chest and he petted her hair gently, trying not to disturb her curls too much.

It was unmistakable that the two were intimate. Probably this was her first clumsy lover, all paws and need, no real passion. He instantly hated the young man for it. HIs blood rose up into his throat as he thought of this fellow running his hands down her pristine smooth body, his lips kissing her in all the places Vulpes had already imagined claiming a million times. He had to calm himself, force himself down from a black rage as he imagined the boy making love to Julia one night on a blanket atop one of these old houses, the stars and moon their only lights. The Legionary picked up an old mason jar, placed next to a jug and bowl on an old world desk to provide drinks and face washing, and threw the jar at the wall, smashing it.

He stormed out of the small inn, away from where the couple had started to move off to. As he stomped away he thought of how their hands were entwined with a casual touch the likes of which men of the Legion avoided least they seem weak. He marched more than he walked up a path on the side of one of the cliffs, and glared down at the settlement, imagining the place burning beneath him. The screams of the people as they were crucified or sold off into slavery served too sooth him. Pain was something familiar to Vulpes, the joy of bringing it to the wicked, and this town had become wicked to him in ways few others had. His last soothing image was of the boy that kissed Julia, bespattered with his own blood, hanging from a cross, his organs dangling down from his slit stomach, curling at the base of the cross.

The Legion would come to The Divide now. They would march upon it, subdue the NCR, and take the town for their own. None who lives so happily here would survive. He would see to it as soon as he was at Cottonwood Cove. This place was a wealth of resources, even if his great living desire right now wasn’t to see this place pulled apart, Caesar would thank him for securing the pass and bringing these farms to his collective.

But only Carla knows. Knew.

It's up to you who else discovers Boone's best kept secret. Personal preference would be either Arcade or F!Courier, but don't let that stop you if you ship something else!

Vulpes is such a devil here... And he's really obsessed with usual girl. It's a bit strange.
Wait for more :)

Carlise is the only thing I liked from Twilight. :3 This is amazing, and I wouldn't be adverse if you decided to continue.

In my mind, the Courier is an overly-brainy type, science, engineering, medicine, hell, he's probably built his own robot army to do the fighting for him.

However, as a result of holing himself up in buildings and working on various projects has made his charisma and people skills 'meh'. That, paired with a bullet to the melon, has turned a somewhat socially-awkward male into a nerdy, stuttering, easily flustered, accident-prone, fella who often comes off as creepy and can barely form words when he finds himself attracted to someone.

So! I basically want some weird, needy, frustrated-from-never-getting-laid masturbation. And the weirder, the better.

Bonus: If the Courier needs a little help getting off, whether it's Fisto, or some creature of the Mojave(like that wonderful feral glowing one fic back a few pages, a super mutant, even a trained radscorpion or ant, go wild with it!), but not a human, it does have to be essentially solo!work.
Bonus2: At some point the guy meets someone who finds his gawky, blundering ass adorable and they live happily ever after.

"Loading SELF-LOATHING dialogue sub-routine." Fisto carried on in the same decontextualized monotone. "You like taking my rod, don't you, you filthy bitch."

Right here is where I lost it.

Amazing story. :)

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

Assault part 5

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

Re: A Spark of Luv, microfill

Assault part 7 (last one was part 6)

Assault part 8

Assault part 9

Assault part 10

OP here

Re: Set Me On Fire (2c)

Re: A Spark of Luv, microfill

Crossover: Fallout/MOVIE OF YOUR CHOICE

Re: She's got you by the balls 2/2

f!Courier + Whitley + ED-E

The One You Left Behind: Joshua Graham / female slave

Set Me On Fire (3a)

....

Set Me On Fire (3a)

Set Me On Fire (3b)

Set Me On Fire (3c)

Set Me On Fire (3d)

Boone is ticklish!

Re: Set Me On Fire (3d)

Re: Late Afternoon (Microfill)

M!Courier Solo-ish? (actually he's just too wierd to get any)

Re: Boone/FISTO - Cap-Operated Boy [2c/2]