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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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(F!LW/Fawkes) Good Vibrations (1f/1)
(Anonymous) 2014-03-21 02:11 pm (UTC)(link)“I love you, you big idiot,” she mutters, pressing her cheek against his neck as if embarrassed by that confession. “I’m not always easy to love. I touch people too much. I’m nosy. I talk too much. But I love you, even if I’m a pain in the ass. At least I’m your pain in the ass.”
He laughs weakly, chuckling as he squeezes her close, just gently rocking her back and forth in his arms. “I appreciate that.”
When he finally sets her down, the rest of the walk goes much more easily. That strange, almost-fight has drained much of Jinx’s mischief and allows for a more companionable silence. They reach Megaton not long after nightfall, the pale moon’s glow beckoning them on. When they reach the entrance of their Megaton house, Jinx immediately shoos Fawkes upstairs.
“Go read or something. I have to clean off the surprise, then I’ll get you.” She dances around the edge of their giant heart-shaped bed to grab two books off the shelf, not even bothering to read their titles before pressing them into Fawkes’ hands. Bemused at how easily she commands him, he obediently walks up the stairs, the metal panels echoing under his feet. Idly, he reflects that masochism and submission are two very different things; masochistic streak aside, she is always so demanding…
He thinks back to that moment in the sunlight, and her hungry mouth against his. The way she felt, the way she always feels so warm and eager under his hands, never shying away from embracing him with the entirety of her form. The way her kisses feel like rain against his chest. The way her body curves along his, and how much he loves her.
Examining the two books she brought him, he decides against reading Frankenstein. Neruda suits his mood much better, the poetry feeding his heart. The copy they have provides the Spanish side by side with its English translation, and he likes tracing the parallels between the languages. Like puzzle pieces slowly fitting together, he maps the poems, each word forming a new piece in his linguistic construction. This is a book he does not want to share with the Brotherhood; fortunately, he doubts they would be interested.
Downstairs, he hears a high-pitched cry of “No, Dogmeat! Leave it alone!” followed by a canine whine. “Okay, good boy! Chew that instead!” Then her footsteps up the stairs, and her bursting through the door. “Fawkes, I’m ready! Come downstairs with me, please?” She bites her lip endearingly, hooking her fingers together and squeezing her breasts between her arms like a prewar pin-up. It’s a familiar pose, but no less charming for the fact he has seen it over a hundred times. He shuts the book, setting it aside and pulling her into his lap. Jinx moves into him, thighs spread as she nuzzles close, lips tracing the lines of his chest.
“Kiss me first,” he requests.
She happily obliges, head tilting upward and mouth already parted. This time, he takes the lead, squeezing one hand under her legs, cupping where the curve of her buttocks meets the flesh of her thigh. He can feel the heat of her groin against his fingers, and instinctively curls upward, grinding at her through the increasingly damp fabric. She moans against his mouth, thrumming like electricity as he nuzzles her lips. Then he bears down, slipping his other hand up the edge of her shirt, feeling bare skin and the gentle curve of her belly before she breaks away, breathing heavily and pushing to her feet.