Summary: F!LW raids the Brotherhood sex toy closet! Characters: F!LW, Fawkes, Bael Relationship: het, F!LW/Fawkes Kinks: object insertion, anal play, oral, facials, size, super mutant Fic Series: Jinx
(A/N: Yeah, kicking off the fillathon with the first new piece of super mutant smut!)
Paladin Bael stands straight at attention, reminding himself to keep his knees unlocked even as his back remains ramrod-stiff inside the unyielding power armor enclosing his form. His gaze remains fixated on a particularly fascinating blotch of rust on the wall across from him, and he imagines if he spends enough time staring at it, it might start growing.
Fucking guard duty.
At least standing guard outside the Citadel gave him a chance to feel the breeze, look across the water and occasionally chat with the other Brotherhood soldiers. But this is just embarrassing, guarding a seemingly innocuous stretch of hallway. A plain old ‘make-work’ light duty to those who don’t know any better, a pitiful demotion from his previous position. But to those who do know better…
It’s even more embarrassing.
He is guarding the sex toy closet.
Not that Elder Lyons will ever call it that; it is the ‘Miscellaneous Prewar Technological Devices’ storage room, for ‘miscellaneous’ devices that, despite their innovation and scientific merit, simply have no function beyond the lewd and obscene. The sorts of things that enterprising young scouts might find in their travels, bring back, and either get confiscated or studied to plumb the depths of their lack of utility in the modern Wasteland.
Of course, once obtained… it is not so simple to dispose of them. Simply destroying the items represents the destruction of prewar knowledge; something the Brotherhood, even in their altered vision, simply cannot abide. Selling them to wandering traders (such as that unsettling Crazy Wolfgang, with all his innuendo regarding his ‘junk,’) would do little for the Brotherhood’s reputation. And simply leaving the storage closet unlocked and unguarded acts as temptation for the more lascivious-minded of the initiates to go exploring…
Hence, the lock. Hence, the guard. Hence, his current embarrassing position.
He never should have mouthed off to the mutie, he thinks forlornly. That was when all the trouble started. It had been bad enough to be clocked by a girl who barely stands five feet in height, but when the girl in question was the Lone Wanderer, and she was friends with Sarah Lyons, and even Gallows—fucking Gallows, the person who will go out to hunt and kill super mutants in his fucking spare time—even Gallows somehow likes her…
He doesn’t even know if the Lone Wanderer ever asked them to cash in a favor for her. Or maybe just getting on the little girl’s shit list was enough to get him on Sarah’s shit list and get him a lecture on antagonizing allies of the Brotherhood—
Shit. Either way, here he is guarding the sex toy closet. What a fucking joke.
Like an evil demon summoned by dark thoughts, he even sees her traipsing up the hall. She’s dressed in some fucking merc adventurer outfit, thumbs hooked through her belt loops and laughing as she talks to the monster man that everyone calls her ‘companion.’ Bael bets she’s fucking him, too. At least she’s not wearing the armor Lyons gave her; dressing a Wasteland scavenger up in Brotherhood armor does not make them Brotherhood to Bael’s eyes. Especially since she has her hair dyed like a raider, blood-red and half shaved in the most unladylike hairstyle he’s ever seen. Her eyes meet his, and she stops mid-sentence to cock her head at him.
“Hey. Thought you were off today,” she says in mild surprise. The super mutant just stays silent, a half-step behind the little Wanderer. The dog has no such boundaries, instead trotting up to sniff at Bael’s greaves. He hopes it doesn’t try pissing on him again.
“My duties have taken me elsewhere,” he grits, trying to decide if she is aware of just what he is guarding.
(F!LW/Fawkes) Good Vibrations (1a/1)
Characters: F!LW, Fawkes, Bael
Relationship: het, F!LW/Fawkes
Kinks: object insertion, anal play, oral, facials, size, super mutant
Fic Series: Jinx
(A/N: Yeah, kicking off the fillathon with the first new piece of super mutant smut!)
Paladin Bael stands straight at attention, reminding himself to keep his knees unlocked even as his back remains ramrod-stiff inside the unyielding power armor enclosing his form. His gaze remains fixated on a particularly fascinating blotch of rust on the wall across from him, and he imagines if he spends enough time staring at it, it might start growing.
Fucking guard duty.
At least standing guard outside the Citadel gave him a chance to feel the breeze, look across the water and occasionally chat with the other Brotherhood soldiers. But this is just embarrassing, guarding a seemingly innocuous stretch of hallway. A plain old ‘make-work’ light duty to those who don’t know any better, a pitiful demotion from his previous position. But to those who do know better…
It’s even more embarrassing.
He is guarding the sex toy closet.
Not that Elder Lyons will ever call it that; it is the ‘Miscellaneous Prewar Technological Devices’ storage room, for ‘miscellaneous’ devices that, despite their innovation and scientific merit, simply have no function beyond the lewd and obscene. The sorts of things that enterprising young scouts might find in their travels, bring back, and either get confiscated or studied to plumb the depths of their lack of utility in the modern Wasteland.
Of course, once obtained… it is not so simple to dispose of them. Simply destroying the items represents the destruction of prewar knowledge; something the Brotherhood, even in their altered vision, simply cannot abide. Selling them to wandering traders (such as that unsettling Crazy Wolfgang, with all his innuendo regarding his ‘junk,’) would do little for the Brotherhood’s reputation. And simply leaving the storage closet unlocked and unguarded acts as temptation for the more lascivious-minded of the initiates to go exploring…
Hence, the lock. Hence, the guard. Hence, his current embarrassing position.
He never should have mouthed off to the mutie, he thinks forlornly. That was when all the trouble started. It had been bad enough to be clocked by a girl who barely stands five feet in height, but when the girl in question was the Lone Wanderer, and she was friends with Sarah Lyons, and even Gallows—fucking Gallows, the person who will go out to hunt and kill super mutants in his fucking spare time—even Gallows somehow likes her…
He doesn’t even know if the Lone Wanderer ever asked them to cash in a favor for her. Or maybe just getting on the little girl’s shit list was enough to get him on Sarah’s shit list and get him a lecture on antagonizing allies of the Brotherhood—
Shit. Either way, here he is guarding the sex toy closet. What a fucking joke.
Like an evil demon summoned by dark thoughts, he even sees her traipsing up the hall. She’s dressed in some fucking merc adventurer outfit, thumbs hooked through her belt loops and laughing as she talks to the monster man that everyone calls her ‘companion.’ Bael bets she’s fucking him, too. At least she’s not wearing the armor Lyons gave her; dressing a Wasteland scavenger up in Brotherhood armor does not make them Brotherhood to Bael’s eyes. Especially since she has her hair dyed like a raider, blood-red and half shaved in the most unladylike hairstyle he’s ever seen. Her eyes meet his, and she stops mid-sentence to cock her head at him.
“Hey. Thought you were off today,” she says in mild surprise. The super mutant just stays silent, a half-step behind the little Wanderer. The dog has no such boundaries, instead trotting up to sniff at Bael’s greaves. He hopes it doesn’t try pissing on him again.
“My duties have taken me elsewhere,” he grits, trying to decide if she is aware of just what he is guarding.