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falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
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Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.
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M!Courier Solo-ish? (actually he's just too wierd to get any)
(Anonymous) 2011-12-10 01:20 am (UTC)(link)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.
Autofill - Untitled - currently no pairing
(Anonymous) 2011-12-19 10:15 am (UTC)(link)Anyway, I like 50's slang, but I tried not to use any that is uncommon enough that no one will understand it, so I hope anyone who reads this at least gets the gist of it.
Also, I've never actually written any smut, so I am going to take my time on that, though I would appreciate any pointers anyone my have to offer. And there is no official pairing as of yet, and I'm up for either het or slash, so if anyone has a pairing request with the Courier can suggest it, though I'm going to ask for none of the companions or other popular pairings, because everyone in the Mojave deserves at least, a little lovin'. I only ask that the suggestions be someone you can realistically see finding the Courier adorable.
Enjoy! And I do appreciate constructive criticism, so if you have the time, I'd like the advice.
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Nights at the Helios One plant were cold and lonely. The Courier deemed it the perfect place to run his experiments, with plenty of space and a constant power source. He felt bad about not allocating power to the rest of the Mojave, but figured that his work would be better for everyone in the long run.
He'd holed himself up there after clearing it of several NCR soldiers with the help of a Enclave eyebot, cyberdog and a supermutant who insisted on calling him "Jimmy". He rather liked his rag-tag band of misfits. Around most people he was a nervous wreck, but ED-E, Rex and Lily were strange enough that he felt an odd sense of comfort around them. He partially considered the persona of "Jimmy" to be one of the reasons for his ease, not having to be himself for once, that stuttering, clumsy square of a guy.
He absently reached up and ran a hand through cropped black hair, stopping at a jagged, yet surprisingly smooth scar that began less than an inch away from his temple. His fingers lingered over bumps where the scar hadn't healed evenly. He could tell just from the feel of it that hair would never grow back in its place. The stray thought of growing his hair out to try and cover it up entered his head. Like that would help anything, he thought with a wry smile. It probably has more use as a conversation starter than I would trying to impress someone. Oh, if he ever found the sick bastard in the checkered jacket responsible for this, he would pound his sorry ass.
A shiver runs through him, and he tries to think that it's just because a cold breeze found its way into his room, but in the pit of his stomach he knows that's not true in the slightest. He brings his legs up to his chest and places his hands on his knees, fingers between them to stay warm, and alternates curling the toes of one foot around those of the other and wishes he has someone to hold at night. Someone to keep him safe and warm, like he wishes for every night, but knows that it just sounds stupid, even in his own head, because he's a wet rag, even if one with brains, and who wants a poindexter who'd barely be able to get a word out to them?
He suddenly feels sick and hugs his knees a little tighter and screws his eyes shut to try and beckon sleep to him. He's utterly beat and nothing except sleep is going to change that. You can worry while you work, he thinks, and it puts his mind slightly at ease. He plasters a smile on his face and lets his thoughts dwell on someone to hold on quiet nights, to murmur sweet nothings to when the plant is lonely and there's no one to keep him company, someone to love, he realizes. Then he's smiling ear to ear, grinning so hard that it hurts, because that thought makes him both incredibly happy and sad at once and the mix of the two is so odd inside him that he ends up feeling ridiculous. But nonetheless, he is still smiling and he hopes that he finds that someone one day, because he needs them more than ever now, and right now, he's fine with that.
In a final attempt to get some rest, he cuts the gas to the thoughts in his head and cuts out and he sleeps alright for a change.
Re: Autofill - Untitled - currently no pairing
(Anonymous) 2012-03-18 11:20 pm (UTC)(link)