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

There are plenty of fics out there with the Courier having the hots for Boone, and it possibly being unrequited, but I want to see it the other way around- I want to see Boone having unrequited feelings for the Courier.

Maybe he's frustrated with himself because he feel like he can't love again after killing his wife, or maybe he feels like he's betraying Carla's memory by falling for someone else? Maybe the Courier's in love with someone else? Maybe she's a lesbian? All up to anon.

I'd prefer it to be F!Courier, but I won't complain if anon decides to use M!Courier instead .

ON IT LIKE SOMETHING THAT IS ON THINGS.

(Will probably take a few days. Uni is about to start back up. D:)

Omg OP, I've been on a Boone kick and this is what I need in my life right now, you mind reader you.

Oohhh this is totaly cute :3

Little quickie fill with my Courier Charlie. Hope you like it, OP!

He's in love with her.

He's in love with her and with that discovery comes a hate so deep it's a wonder he doesn't retch with the sickness of it.

She's the exact opposite of Carla, although maybe that's the problem right there. Carla was soft and clean, with a worldly attitude and a love of bright lights, colours, pretty things and no sweet clue about just how much of a monster she had ended up marrying. She had made him feel like he used to be.

Charlie sleeps in the dirt, possibly believes that electricity is some kind of evil spirit and resembles a board so much he thinks a man would probably need a hammer to nail her. There might be hips and breasts in there under that coat, he'll suppose probably nice ones if he wants to be chivalrous about it, but it's impossible to tell under the leather and the armour and the blades.

Carla had liked sundresses. Strapless.

It had started a few miles out of Novac. One Legion scouting party, one woman heading ahead to act as bait, and one sniper who had repressed his anger so well he hadn't noticed just how much he had to let out when said bait went from luring to ambushing without warning. Charlie was cleaning the blood from her hatchets when he had caught up. She had moved so fast he hadn't even managed to get a shot off.

It had been months since he had killed one of the red-swathed bastards, and here was one right at his feet, dead from a combat knife instead of a .308 round, and something in him had exploded like sapwood in a fire. He had descended in a blind fury, ripping the knife free and stabbing at the padded chest until the fabric was indistinguishable from the torn meat. Coming out of that murderous little fugue, feeling the blood on his face and his hands clinging to his skin like filth in the humid morning air, he had braced himself for Charlie's reaction.

She was sitting four feet away, cross-legged in the dirt and finishing off a cactus fruit. Looking over to him, she had licked her fingers off and tilted her head. "All set?" It had come out like she was asking if he was finished with putting his boots on, not half-butchering someone.

When the Khans had called him a murderer, he knows she had thought they were talking about her. She didn't care when he told her he was one. It made him feel like the man he was.

He also knows that if he made an advance, she'd reciprocate. The only thing Charlie ever needs by way of invitation or encouragement from any man or woman is the right kind of smile and the time; generally all he needs is enough of the latter with a bottle beforehand. It's the only sort of relationship he should be capable of now, and the last thing he wants. It might mean more with someone like her, someone he sees every day, someone who might start looking like a good idea sober. Someone who could end up loving him as he is.

It would ruin everything.

There's a total lack of feeling, an emptiness, a nothing-space between them filling up with dust and dead Legionaries. They could fall into the boiling heart of the Earth through that hole, blazing a trail of death and blood until they both died in that same dust, nameless and rotting under the sky, together with no cares left to have.

She's a woman he wouldn't care about sleeping with, one he doesn't care about hurting or watching others hurt, the perfect replacement for one dead wife who caused him more pain than he thought he could ever bear.

Sometimes he's even happy.

It's this sick, sorry attitude that finally drives it home, makes what he's feeling completely undeniable. He hates himself because of it, he hates himself so, so badly, and if he pretends hard enough, he can make that feeling slop over onto her. It's the only thing he can do.

God help him, but he loves her so much.

Not Op, but GOOD GOD YES! This is fantastic.

I love the way you write Boone, and that bit about the courier possibly believing electricity is an evil spirit made me laugh. I wish there was more. <3

Oh nonny, this is everything I wish my writing could be. LOVED IT!

THIS. IS. AMAAAAAAAAAAAZING. <3

Oh, wow. Seriously, wow.

Boone, you sorry bastard.

This was very compelling- I appreciate how well you complete the contrasts between Charlie and Carla but don't dehumanize either of them in the process.

All things are fair in love and !kinkmeme. ;)

And to elaborate, because that was rather flippant of A!A; I'm not dehumanizing. Boone is dehumanizing, because he is one sad, emotionally damaged person.

OH NO NO NO I mean you DON'T dehumanize them, I wasn't saying "but don't do that", I meant "it's nice that you don't do that."

Crap I'm so sorry. O_O

Re: Keep Your Sickness

(Anonymous) - 2012-01-17 03:29 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Keep Your Sickness

(Anonymous) - 2012-01-17 07:35 (UTC) - Expand

OP here- This came out very well :) I really like it!

Wicked! A!A is glad to hear it, OP.

It somehow happened, that I've just read two your fics A!A one after another. And, what can I say? I'm in love. With you, with Charlie, with your Boone and all that calm sadness I have around my throat right now. Uhh, that didn't make much sense, I know. Anyway, could you please post links to all your other fills? I would be more than grateful.

Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. :) And sure! These are the other three I've posted to the meme, not sure which two you've read:

Outside Looking In - http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/4875.html?thread=8042507#t8042507

Rosolare la Donna - http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/4875.html?thread=8024843#t8024843

Down In Mexico - http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/4875.html?thread=7155467#t7155467

YES GOOD. Amazing fill. I love your courier.

She’s in a rush out of town. Her gear’s on the bed: unmentionables, Lucky, and a little red dress. Boone’s eyes focus on the string of pearls.
The water goes off and the door opens. She walks out with a towel around her waist.

Where you going? Boone says from her couch. She startles. She’d last seen him going into his room.
He’s drinking from a tumbler. He’s drunk too much of the bottle. He isn't much dressed. But he looks at her in a way that she expects him to have a cross trained on her.

She goes back to fixing her hair. You know where.
Afraid I don’t.
Since when was it your business?
He looks down at his glass. She knows the answer is Bitter Springs, but he thinks it might have been since Carla.

She’s taken the dress in the bathroom with her. He knows it’s wrong, but he resents her need for privacy. Boone knows what she looks like without the towel. He’s seen her undress enough times. He doesn't stop keeping watch because she has her back turned. If anything, he watches more diligently. He doesn't care to be gentlemanly, not when it’s important.
He’s afraid, and he’s impotent. It doesn't stop the loneliness. He likes being with her.
If he sees her naked, he sees all the men in the fort taking turns with her.

I don’t want you involved in this anymore. He says.
I can’t leave it alone.
They don’t need you to fix this. It’ll make sense by itself, one way or another.
I've done everything that makes sense.
I don’t want you going.
I've got to end it.
Something else will start from it.

She looks at him sharply. He sees another woman.
I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end.

I like this, very poetic.

Characters: Boone, F!Courier
Kink: unrequited, blue balls
Summary: Boone misreads the situation.
A/N: Ive been working on a longer fill for this, but I ended up cutting this scene so I reworked it to be a one-shot so I had something finished to show my appreciation for this excellent prompt

Six studied him, her expression unreadable in the dark. For the first time since he'd met her, she had nothing to say, and silence stretched out between them. Boone bit his lip, bracing himself.

"You like me," she said, her tone even and measured. Six spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable, pronouncing every consonant. There was no trace of her accent left in her voice, and despite the darkness, he could see her mouth clearly, the way her lips shaped the words, the deft movement of her tongue. He shut his eyes and he could see those lips wrapped around his cock, practically feel her tongue moving over his slit, lapping up his precum while she hollowed her cheeks and sucked him deep.

His dick throbbed.

"Christ, Six, of course I do," he said hoarsely. His voice was strange and distant to his own ears, echoing queerly in the small, dark space. "You know what you do to me. You been teasing me, fucking every man between here and Boulder. Christ." He propped himself up on his elbows and fixed her with a baleful stare.

Twin fires burned high in his cheeks, and the hand he extended to her didn't feel like one of his own. He stroked her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw with his knuckles. She remained perfectly still, even when he kissed her.

She tasted like wine and tobacco, sweet and heady, and she didn't resist when he pushed his tongue into her mouth. Every part of him, body and soul, ached for her. He wanted her hot, sweet mouth and her dripping cunt and her long, probing fingers. He wanted her on her knees in the dirt and he wanted her on top, riding him with her head thrown back and his name on those fat, sensual lips.

Fumbling, his hands caught in her hair and pinched her brown nipples. He was clumsy in his eagerness to feel her body against his, drunk off his arousal. He felt physically ill with lust; his cock was an iron bar and his balls were two shriveled stones. He needed her like air, like medicine

Boone kissed her breathless. He broke the kiss and leaned away, his heart pounding in his throat. He reached out for her again, meaning to take her wrist and guide her hand to his chest, but his fingers closed around empty air. Confused, he sat up. Six had scrambled backwards, away from him. She'd swung her pack around and put it between them, a makeshift wall.

"Six?" he said, confused, moving to follow her.

In a flash, she'd pulled her knife clear of its sheath. "Back off," she hissed.

He froze, and his hard-on turned into a fist. He said her name again, low and plaintive, a question.

"I fuck a couple caravaners so you think I'll roll over for you like a bitch in heat?" she snarled, teeth bared. "Fuck off, I ain't your whore."

"That's not what I meant at all," he said, dumbfounded, his arousal cooling. "I thought you were--"

"Easy?"

"No! Shit Six, I thought you wanted me."

"So you just grab my tits, hope I'm amenable."

"I'm sorry," he said, deeply miserable. "I should've said something--"

"Should've asked, more like," she said tartly, sliding the knife back into the sheath. "You can't just assume shit. I ain't flattered and you ain't my type. S'what I was going to say before you stuck your tongue down my throat."

His ears burned, a heat entirely unrelated to his earlier lust. "Sorry," he repeated.

"I'm going to sleep over here," she said. "You stay on your side. And you keep your pinche hands to yourself or I'll cut them off myself, I swear to God."

"Yes'm," he muttered.

Satisfied, Six bedded down on the far side of the room, turning her pack over to use as a pillow. Her breathing turned slow and easy; she was asleep in minutes. Boone lay awake much longer, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling and ignoring his swollen, aching dick.

Serves you right, he thought irritably, rolling over and punching his pillow.

Oh wow, this is bad for everyone. I love this Courier, she's so tough and strong.

This is excellent! :D

Love everything about this.

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

F!Courier/Boone - Unrequited Love

Re: F!Courier/Boone - Unrequited Love

Re: F!Courier/Boone - Unrequited Love

Re: F!Courier/Boone - Unrequited Love

Keep Your Sickness

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Heartbreak Hotel

Re: Heartbreak Hotel

F!Courier/Boone, "Fever," 1/2

F!Courier/Boone, "Fever," 2/2

Re: F!Courier/Boone, "Fever," 2/2

Re: F!Courier/Boone, "Fever," 2/2

Re: F!Courier/Boone, "Fever," 2/2