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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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BUTCH/F!LW AND A CAR
(Anonymous) 2012-04-23 07:54 pm (UTC)(link)Bonus cookies if F!LW is a speed demon and Butch drives like a granny.
Re: Vroom, Vroom 1/?
(Anonymous) 2012-06-06 05:49 pm (UTC)(link)____________________________________________________________________________
Blair stands with her hands on her hips, staring down at the weird little contraption in front of her. She knows what it is, but she's never seen one in such good condition. The shiny chrome of the front bumper hasn't chipped at all, and the paint is still a deep blood-red.
"It's a car?" Butch asks incredulously, staring at the car as well. Blair just shrugs and crosses her arms, in deep thought. She was one of the best - if not the best - mechanics in D.C., skilled in engineering and unafraid to get down and dirty with all sorts of robotics and machinery in the Wasteland.
She's fixed up little buggies and makeshift cars for the Brotherhood, in hopes that the water distribution would be more efficient, but she's never gotten her hands on an actual car. Only parts.
Blair turns to Butch, eyes flashing mischievously. "If you help me fix it up, you can drive first," she promises. To her surprise and disapproval, Butch shakes his head like a madman.
"No fuckin' way, B. That looks dangerous as shit. What if it...explodes or somethin'?" he whines. Blair rolls her eyes and steps closer, running her index finger along the zipper of his jumpsuit. Immediately a cocky grin spreads across the greaser's mouth, and Blair smirks back at him. "I said, I'll let you drive, baby."
Blair ends up finishing the car's repairs in a new record. Butch stops watching Pip-Boy's clock when she throws her hands in the air triumphantly, stained with centuries-old oil, grease, and other disgusting by-products of the car's makeover. She wipes her forehead and motions for Butch to throw her some water. She drinks generously and her lips slip into a slight smile when she feels him come up behind her, pressing his chest against her back.
"Not now, Butch." she says, giving his arm a pinch when the palm snakes under the front of her tank top towards her ratty sports bra. Butch groans in her ear, a rough sound that almost reels her in. "Why not? You got the fuckin' thing working." he mutters, placing a few open-mouthed kisses on her neck, and kneading the tight muscle of her trapezius with his lips. It feels damn good, so Blair drops her head back onto his shoulder, tilting her neck and moaning at his ministrations. When things get a little too heated, though, she pulls away.
Blair slides into the passenger's side, twirling her thumbs sweetly and staring innocently up at her boyfriend, who glares back down at her with equal parts arousal and annoyance. Eventually he relents, plopping down on the driver's seat and crossing his arms childishly. "How're you planning on gettin' this thing to go? Don't you need...dunno, a key or something?"
The Lone Wanderer says nothing, but leans across the space between their seats, reaching under the steering wheel to jump-start the car's wires. Butch groans enthusiastically when her chest presses against his thigh, and he threads a shaking hand in her sandy blonde hair and tugging insistently. "Come on, baby. Stop teasin'." he pants when she pulls back with a deliberate laziness. Blair says nothing, but gestures towards the wheel. When he doesn't move, the blonde presses her hand against the bulge of his jumpsuit, kneading firmly and smirking all the while.
Butch gasps and lifts his hips towards her palm in desperation, reaching out to sneak a kiss. Blair stops her hand and sits back in her seat, ignoring his pleas. She simply gestures at the workshop's open garage door, and then looks at him expectantly.
"Drive, Butch."
For a second he looks defiant, but then he thinks better of it, and hits the gas.
Re: Vroom, Vroom 2/3
(Anonymous) 2012-06-06 06:53 pm (UTC)(link)Inspired by Butch's reckless driving and her heart's pounding, Blair grips the top of the windshield, pulling herself into the air and raising her arms. Butch gets a little nervous because he wraps one arm around her waist, flicking from her face to the obstacles in front of him with a grin.
They eventually pull up in front of the RobCo factory, and Butch drifts the car with an amazing dexterity that sends a strange wave of heat to the apex of her legs. He slams his hands down on the wheel, shouting with excited triumph, and turns his head to Blair expectantly. She flashes him a meaningful smirk.
Butch blinks at her, eyes blank and confused for a second, before groaning. "Seriously? You are so goddamn needy, woman."
Blair reaches over to the stick, parking the car before climbing into Butch's lap. His hands immediately float up to her waist and he begins drawing slow circles with his thumbs until Blair has enough. She presses closer, melting into the contours of his body in the seat, and catches him in a rough kiss.
It doesn't take long before they're both out of breath. Blair whimpers when he skates his fingers up the back of her shirt, fingering the catch of her bra excitedly. He tilts his head into the kiss, and she nods her approval, rocking her hips into his as she raises her arms so her tank top can be removed. Butch kisses the vulnerable, thin skin of her upper arms, nipping and sucking while lifting her shirt up.
She's tired of foreplay suddenly, lust fueled by the throbbing heat pressed against her hip and the things he's doing with his tongue, fuck. She arches away from his mouth and pinches at the fabric of his undershirt, having already unzipped the Vault jumpsuit. "Off." she commands, and Butch releases her nipple with a deliciously wet pop, grinning lazily at her when she lets out a garbled mewl. He complies though, tugging his shirt off by the collar. Blair sinks lower into his form, rocking insistently and letting him know that she's not going to play the patience game this time.
Butch shrugs and reaches down to the side of the seat. Blair suddenly flies forward, hair whipping into her face. She lands on top of her boyfriend at an incline. She scoots back on his thighs, using the strong muscles of her upper legs to hold herself upright. She pulls him our of his boxers, stroking lightly and watching his face. Butch bucks against her, sending her into the air, and wraps his arms around her back, pulling her flush against his chest and nipping at her ear.
Re: Vroom, Vroom 3/3
(Anonymous) 2012-06-06 06:53 pm (UTC)(link)Suddenly his biceps squeeze tight against her, trapping her against his chest as he flips them. Blair's sweaty back presses into the seat and she arches when he slips back in. Butch surprises her by threading their fingers together and pulling her arms up, trapping them above her head. Her eyes go wide and her mouth opens when he lifts his gaze up to hers, piercing blue irises darkened with lust. He holds her arms there, wrenching his hips back and then forward, pounding her into the seat.
Blair loses it in no time, crying out and shuddering as her climax rolls through, digging her heels into his back and jerking wildly. Butch reaches down and grabs her hip, gripping her thigh as closer as possible when he finishes. The slack grip on her wrists allows her to slip her hand from his, reaching up to stroke his cheek as he came. Butch slumps against her, curling around her uselessly and tucking his head into her shoulder as he catches his breath. Blair runs her hand through his dark hair, down his back, across his shoulders, content.
"B." he mutters, mouth slack against her collarbone.
"Hmm?"
"I fuckin' love driving." he breathes, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her on top of him. Blair smirks and presses a quick kiss to his cheeks before reaching for her tank top.
Re: Vroom, Vroom 3/3
(Anonymous) 2013-10-23 05:57 am (UTC)(link)