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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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Charon/F!LW "One-one hundred, Two-one hundred..." 2/?
(Anonymous) 2012-01-17 10:54 am (UTC)(link)“Bas-” she rolled over on her hands and knees, “-tard.Bastard!” A wry of his dry lips showed a short smirk at her peril. “Grrrah!”
She ignored the fact that he was actually looking at her with a titled head while continuing his exercise, albeit with less resistance than before. He looked rather chuffed with himself...asshole, tough, strong...sexy...asshole...ghoul...ghoul...remember, ghoul.
Fuck...
Instead of pouting, she retorted on her knees, patting off the dust incredulously, as if the whole things bothered her not, “What? Was it too hard for you to work it with me on top of you?” Bad choice of words...terrible and unforgivable.
Charon rose a brow and snorted through his nose, ignoring the pun to her words even if she couldn't. Something told her he was actually enjoying having her an an audience, or at least the extra weight to really give him a challenge...like two hundred of these things wasn't enough of a trial.
“No.” He replied indifferently, and to anyone else it wouldn't have held any other meaning, but to her it was an invitation. She smirked and crawled back above him, hands on his shoulder and knees on his back like he were a pack Brahmin more than a man. Nothing was more fun than this! - well...at least not yet there wasn't.
“We'll start at one hundred and fifty,” she seethed; heated down his neck, not too close...but well, close enough. He grunted, and whether it was from her near breath on his bare strip of muscle or the added weight as he lifted her up, she wasn't sure...probably the weight, but she could dream.
“One hundred and fifty-one.” Another sharp grunt and a lift, followed by another and another until she was taking in her own quick breathes to keep up with the counts.
“One hundred and seventy-eight! My goodness Charon...you been lifting skyline carts while I've been reading haven't you?” - it was just small talk, mainly to boost his ego with mock surprise. It didn't work normally but she felt him tense under her and deliver the next few reps with tight control and speed. So he did like the audience, she grinned. Oohoho...she'd have to venture out with him every time he exercised now. Yes indeed...if just to feel the power of him like this.
“One hundred and eighty-two...one hundred and eighty-three...one hun-” The Megaton gates started to sift out of their blockage in the sand, groaning loud over Charon's strained sounded and... distracting her a moment as she murmured his count each time she was thrust up into the air – staring at the doors while Deputy whats-his-name went cahoots at the exiting inhabitant.
Oh...she could see him now. Gob.
“Hey Gob!” She lifted a hand from Charon's shoulder, forcing him to grunt and teeter to the side at the unbalanced weight as she waved to the briefly confused ghoul. Another hard grunt under her and she uttered an apology before replaced her hand, keeping count while watching Gob walk up to them with the broken remains of a table in his arms and dragging on the ground – it looked...oddly familiar.
“Fancy seeing you out here. Charon and I are just enjoying a little exercise – in the sun...outside...ya'know.”
“I see.” God looked them over, obviously noting that she wasn't exactly exercising, and that Charon wasn't exactly enjoying it – but not one word of correction left his mouth. Instead of saying anything he drug his tattered remains of metal and wood to the ditch just a few yards off the town walls – the normal dump sight for scrap and crap that the traders to pick at if they were any good at fabrications. To everyone else it was the dump.
She watched him, keeping count as the slightest shake in Charon's movements drew her down to him.
“One hundred and ninety eight. Getting' tired yet?”, she smirked and dug her thumbs down into his shoulder blades, feeling the rock hard span of muscle under the leather jacket.
She smirked when all she got out of him was a hard breath and ragged grumble.
Charon/F!LW "One-one hundred, Two-one hundred..." 3/4
(Anonymous) 2012-01-17 10:56 am (UTC)(link)“One hundred and ninety-nine...annnnddd...” his arms shook, but that was it before they locked for the two hundredth time – Gob pausing to watch just as she called it out loud and mighty before Charon dropped in the dirt, another puff of dust surrounding them as he gasped and groaned. She plopped with him, butt on his back and knees around his side. Gingerly she patted his shoulder and smiled.
“Proud of you.”
Charon made a sound similar to an insult, but it was buried in the shortness of his breath and Gob's nervous air. “See Gob? You never ever had to worry about me that whole time, like I said, Charon's stronger than a Behemoth if you goad him properly...isn't that right Charon?”
He didn't say anything, just pushed an arm up under his chin and grumbled, still catching his breath while one glassy eye managed to glare at her. No doubt if he had the breath he'd say something along the lines of..”I got something for you to goad over”...at least that's what she'd wish he'd say, then she could retort with something wicked and...and...
She pursed her lips and realized Gob was still looking them over, even after she'd let her hips roll a tad north and then south. How horridly embarrassing.
Gob looked weary, palming the bar rag at his hip that was either hanging out of his pocket or cleaning the tables, right now it was of course in the pocket, making a great distraction for the ghoul as he observed them both with unease.
“So,” she started with a smile, still sitting on her ghoulish bodyguard despite how he shifted underneath her, obviously keenly aware of what she'd just done yet remaining naturally quiet and calm about the whole thing, “what was all that garbage from?”
“What,” Gob started, turning an eye back to the dump ditch and sighing, “you mean the table you bet Charon to punch a hole in? That garbage?” He looked tired, but light – like a father chastising his kids after they'd ran around him in circles the whole day. Gob could never really be bad at her, maybe Charon, but not her...and yeah, she remembered that now...
The whole punchy bet was probably a bit much...and come to think of it she hadn't really apologized for it. No time like the present. “About that Gob...I guess I didn't say sorry for the mess we caused. But...if you'd been there! Oh crackers – it was brilliant! Charon went all quiet stealth like, and-and everyone was watching-and I said that'd he wouldn't do it-and then....well...”, she paused, beaming for dramatic effect as Gob continue to look unamused, “...he did it. If only you were-”
“I was there, smoothskin. I served you both the drinks.”, he replied none pulsed. Charon, all the while, remained completely quiet underneath her with that arm under his chin and breath now steady as ever. She had a feeling he was enjoying this immensely. Well, he did say she blabber mouthed too much, maybe that and forgetful nights of drinking were things she needed to work on.
“Uh...”, she started, rubbing at some tickling sweat on her brow, “...I'll make it up to Gob.”
Gob waved his bar rag, smiling very, very small, “Don't worry about it. You'll pay for it in beer anyways, smoothskin. Always have.” He waved her off, eye darting down to Charon for a second before looking weary again. He left when another awkward wave through the still open gates.
A full minute went by while she stared at the gate closing noisily, feeling Charon shift small under her with a side-mouthed grimace.
“You know,” she sighed, “I don't remember that night...like eighty percent of it is burned by Nova's secret-super burbon...”
As well as he could, Charon shrugged and rolled over, tossing her on the ground again as casually as he ever did. She landed with another heavy cloud of dust and soft pat – gasping and growling as he got to his feet. Like always he hefted her up like she was a teddy bear fallen on it's side, looking down at her from a good foot above her; smirking. Smug...strong...and fit with a horrible sense of humor.
Charon/F!LW "One-one hundred, Two-one hundred..." 4/4
(Anonymous) 2012-01-17 10:56 am (UTC)(link)“Guess it's better you don't really know what happened then.”, and that was all he said. No nail dragging yanks or full leg latches would get anything more out of him. No one could push Charon over, or kick his ass hard enough to stagger him...she could even leap on his back and wrangle him to the ground...
“Stupid...lug! Tell Me'h!!!”
Re: Charon/F!LW "One-one hundred, Two-one hundred..." 4/4
(Anonymous) 2012-01-17 11:36 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Charon/F!LW "One-one hundred, Two-one hundred..." 4/4
(Anonymous) 2012-01-19 11:55 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Charon/F!LW "One-one hundred, Two-one hundred..." 4/4
(Anonymous) 2012-01-20 03:03 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Charon/F!LW "One-one hundred, Two-one hundred..." 4/4
(Anonymous) 2012-03-10 06:18 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Charon/F!LW "One-one hundred, Two-one hundred..." 4/4
(Anonymous) 2014-03-17 02:59 am (UTC)(link)AND IN OTHER NEWS this was hilarious. Poor, long-suffering Gob!