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falloutkinkmeme_backup ([personal profile] falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm

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

Welcome to the Fallout Kink Meme, Part IV! Please assume the position.

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Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [6/?]

(Anonymous) 2012-05-26 09:18 am (UTC)(link)
Just as he predicted, she was sitting near the entrance. Jonas was off to the side talking to her dad and bringing Freddie into the exam room. Some kind of checkup, he figured. He approached her and plopped his rear end on the edge of the desk, making it shift from the change in weight. He flexed his growing arms for good measure, curving his back and sitting up with a leg slung over the other, leaning in so she could look into his baby blues.

“Reading up on how to fit in, Jo?”

She shut the book and made a move to leave. He grabbed her by the sleeve. “Where do you think you’re going, huh? All I did was ask you a question.”

She put on a grim expression. “I have other things to do.”

“Yeah? Well, what about a little bit of gossip?”

Ignoring him, she put her attention onto the terminal, which she tried to log off without him glancing over.

“Oh, I just heard that you’ve got a thing for Paul.”

She stopped then, fingers going lax on the keyboard for the briefest of moments. Then she continued to type and shut it down, avoiding looking at him altogether. “I don’t.”

“No? Why the silence? Hey, you like him, your secret’s safe with me.”

The pit in his chest burned again and he swallowed it back down. There was no way that’d bother him if the two really did have a thing for each other. Right? Wrong. Paul was a Tunnel Snake, and no Tunnel Snake would be caught dead making goo-goo eyes after any girl, especially not the doc’s kid!

“Leave me alone, Butch. I don’t care.”

And the tone in her voice confirmed it. She really didn’t. Not about him, not about him at all. Whatever he said...she just brushed it off. Didn’t matter what it was. If he ever dished out a compliment she would just stare at him and turn her back on him. At least when he snapped at her or made rude, snarky remarks there was some kind of interaction...as short-lived as it was. There was nothing he loved more than her relaying her anger onto him with little actions because hell, it was better than the cold sting of rejection he faced from her every other day.

Thinking back to that day with the damn sweetroll...he wanted it badly because yeah, he was starving and waited too long in the dark for her to come waltzing through with the surprise. But mainly because he saw something shift in her expression when it was given to her, a sign of life he never got unless he was challenging her. Plus he was still annoyed that she put him through the whole ordeal of propositioning him to be his tutor with Brotch right there...his mom heard about it and chewed him out for not accepting but in truth, he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on his work. He would’ve spent the entire time trying to draw any kind of reaction from her than actually learn the stuff on paper.

So he made his way back to Paul while he and Wally both declared that Jo was off limits because she was not Tunnel Snake material.

There was a dance coming up. Something to celebrate the official end of school, like a graduation of sorts. Christine kept insisting that in the books she read that it was called a prom but no one really believed her since she was destined for the maintenance department anyway.

They were eighteen and Butch was miserable. He fucking hated the job he was assigned. Hairdresser? Really? It didn’t help that Jo actually cracked a smile when he was moping in the hallways because as always she got just what she wanted – to work side-by-side with dear old precious daddy.

Bitterness about his career aside, he was at a loss. There were only four girls their age and two of them were considered no-man’s land. Paul finally grew some balls and asked out Christine while Freddie and Susie had some weird thing going on. Wally said he didn’t give a shit because it was stupid anyway but...Butch didn’t feel like he should go alone. He was a gift to all the women there, so why should he have to drag his ass alone to a party?

Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [7/?]

(Anonymous) 2012-05-26 09:19 am (UTC)(link)
Asking Amata was laughable. She already turned the gang down multiple times when they propositioned her and Jo was always there to rescue her. Like that time right before the G.O.A.T. All she did was march up right to Wally and somehow convinced him to back off. She never even talked to him. She was the Overseer’s daughter and he knew that was a dry well; the crazy old bastard probably locked her up tight with a chastity belt that needed a DNA sample to get through it.

Jo, on the other hand...well, she uh. He wasn’t sure what to think. She’d been looking decent these days, sure. Still chubby, still goofy with her glasses. But now he was taller than her. Hell, almost everyone was – not that she was that small. Her freckles were almost all gone and now when she let out one of those rare smiles toward Amata he saw a dimple on the left side of her face. Her hair tied back into a single ponytail and still the biggest rack in the entire vault. But the best part of her metamorphosis...well, that was that she wasn’t dead silent any more. She talked and showed more feelings, and wasn’t too shy to lay it on him when he really ticked her off. It made him laugh when she got all riled up.

He watched her routine when Amata wasn’t around. She’d read a little bit, then head on to her terminal where she typed away while staring at the green screen for hours. He’d hacked into there a few times – wasn’t too hard when he practiced with the whole password thing. He found out that she liked to write. Silly things, too. Romance stories. They were so unrealistic and hilarious but whenever she fleshed out the main character...it was always her in some kind of guise. He got pissed off because Jo imagined herself with so many imaginary males when he was right there and perfect for her because he was Butch Goddamned DeLoria.

Anyway, back on point. He decided to approach her. Get under her skin – it was what he was good at, after all. She was transferring some files from the classroom to the clinic and he stopped her midway, walking just fast enough so that he could interrupt her long, calculated strides. He grinned at her when he saw the annoyance twist behind her usually apathetic expression.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nothin’. Just wondering how my favorite Nosebleed is.”

“You’re irritating me. Why don’t you go bother someone else?”

“Why? You don’t want the Butchman’s presence? Bask in it while it lasts.”

“Sure. There’s something else on your mind, and before you ask, I’m not interested.” He stared at her. When he couldn’t figure out a reply, she turned to him and sighed in exasperation. “Either you came here to ask me out for Paul or for yourself. I know the dance is coming up. But I know that Paul already asked Christine; I’m not stupid. So why else would you be bothering me right before? You don’t have a date. And sorry, but I do.”

All of that was...whoa. He lifted a hand to comb back his hair to keep him grounded and remind him that yeah, this was reality. He’d never heard her say such a mouthful and explain things from her point of view to him, but...

“Yeah? Who you goin’ with? Wally?”

“No. Amata agreed to go with me.”

He laughed. “That ain’t a date.”

She seemed to deflate but kept her pace. “So then I was right. You were here to ask me.”

“Me? Ask you? I gotta get a hold of what chems you’re doing because that’s hilarious. Why would I ask you? Bet if I asked Christine or Susie they’d drop their loser dates and hang with me because I’m the king, baby. I don’t need a second rate gal like you to take with me.”

“Then do it. And leave me alone.”

He lingered in the hallway when she turned into her apartment, the door slamming shut in his face. Spotting a rare abandoned Nuka-Cola near the trash can, he reared back and gave it a hard kick, the bottle flying across the hallway and shattering on the opposite wall. She always knew how to make an ass out of him. And what the hell was with her? She sure was defensive and quick to say no to him. What did he have that she hated so much?

Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [8/?]

(Anonymous) 2012-05-26 09:20 am (UTC)(link)
He was so busy brooding later on that he didn’t notice someone lingering right outside the small space the Overseer appointed to him. He glanced up and spotted Jo, arms wrapped around herself and looking quite uncomfortable with his presence. He couldn’t contain himself. With his signature swagger and swinging his body over the couch to head over to her, he twirled his switchblade in his hand.

“So what? You want a real date then?”

“I’d like a haircut.”

Now that threw him for a loop. She was full of surprises. Jo hadn’t cut her hair in...well, never. She’d gotten trims but had her dad do them, using scissors to snip off her split ends. Even now her hair was tamed in a loose ponytail that went all the way down her back. It was a part of her, almost. He surveyed her for a second.

“Why don’tcha just get your dad to do it?”

“You’re a hairdr...barber. It’s your job. And besides, my dad can’t do it the way I want you to.”

He swallowed. “Come on in then. Take a seat.”

She made her way to the one chair he had. He turned her toward the mirror and glanced at the same hair he’d tugged and pulled as a kid just to get her attention. Now it sat there, limp, and she was more than willing for him to touch it. Why’d it feel so wrong, then?

“What do you want?”

“A Tunnel Snake.”

He almost choked. Almost. But kept his cool, because he was the Serpent King. “You gotta be kiddin’ me. Only guys can have a Tunnel Snake. And you’re not in the gang either. No dice. It’s my signature hair cut, so tough shit.”

“Fine. Then cut it all off.”

His stomach flipped. He couldn’t have heard her right. But the seriousness in her eyes was there. “You’re not goin’ all lesbian on me, are ya?”

“If I was going lesbian, I wouldn’t be on you, DeLoria.”

She reached over and grabbed the magazine he’d been issued to use as a reference for all his clients. She put her finger on number nine, one of the styles he’d never had a chance to do on any of the females. It was just so damn...masculine. Shaved sides with nothing but a ridge that ran along her skull. It wasn’t something that someone like Jo would ask for. Short wasn’t her style at all but to get rid of everything like that...what was going on in her head?

“Whatever, don’t cry to me when you don’t like it.”

He took the scissors and went for the ponytail first. All it took was a quick snip and a heap of it fell into his hands, heavy from the added weight of its thickness. He glanced at her to make sure that she wasn’t freaking out, but...something else happened. She was smiling at herself in the mirror but was crying. He didn’t feel like it was right to say anything so he pretended he didn’t see it. She didn’t sniffle or bawl like others did but the tears just rolled down and her shoulders shook. He turned on the shaver, ridding her of the rest of it and letting the thick locks topple to the floor, strangely disappointed that she chose to get rid of over a decade of work to keep it so long.

When she was done he stepped back and he could tell that whatever he did took something from her. In a good way. She stood up straighter. Her face was more...defined. The thick eyebrows, strong jaw. Even her thick glasses didn’t seem so childish anymore and the big black frames only made all her features that much bolder. She turned to him and laughed, the sound of it sending something searing in him. She reached over and took him in her hands, tilting her head and placing a soft kiss on his open mouth.

And then the rest of the day was a blur.

He wasn’t sure how he made it to the dance but he did. And he searched through the crowd with his own thoughts and pre-party alcohol seeping into his brain, making the world hazy and colors thrive under his watch. Freddie and Susie together on the dance floor having fun. Christine whispering something into Paul’s ear – no doubt hinting he’d get laid tonight, which was just fine with him. Wally was off by himself hanging by the punch bowl to find the right time to pour his flask into it.

Then Amata and Jo came. Together. Amata was all prettied up with make-up, something he hadn’t seen before. And Jo...Jo was...

Flat-chested.

Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [9/?]

(Anonymous) 2012-05-26 09:21 am (UTC)(link)
He squinted at the vault uniform and couldn’t make out the ridiculously huge shapes that defined her walk. He must’ve been drunk, which hadn’t happened in a while, and followed her steps while the two girls made it to the other side of the room. Amata looked nervous and Jo just smiled at her, taking her hand and squeezing it, trying to tug her to the center. But the girl wouldn’t budge. So Jo just hung by herself while Amata, with a flushed face, rushed off to the bathroom with one excuse or another.

He drank right out of the fifth he put away in his jacket and waltzed right up to her, knowing that no one was watching. Before he could stop himself he had his hands on her chest, fingers curling around the empty space he just knew where her amazing rack used to be. He groped and felt her up but he didn’t catch wind of anything and for the briefest of moments he wondered if he’d just imagined it all.

“They’re taped down.” She took her hands off him and put them to his sides.

“Why’d you wanna do that? They’re awesome.” Oh yeah, he was out of it alright. Awesome? The hell was he thinking?

“They get in the way.” She glanced over his shoulder.

The action frustrated him to no end and he gave in to the very thoughts he wanted to keep to himself. “Look at me, will ya? The hell is wrong with me? You never give me a second glance. What the fuck do I gotta do to get you to give me the look you shoot at everyone else? Start stealing sweetrolls again? Harassing the Overseer’s daughter? Tell me and I’ll do it. Because there’s nothin’ I can’t stand more than having you see right through me and fucking pretend I’m a piece of shit.”

That caught her attention. The others couldn’t hear him because of the music but she sure did, probably because he was about two inches away from her. He wanted nothing more than to cut her off in what she said next by mashing his mouth on hers and sticking his tongue down her throat just to see how it’d taste. But she muttered something or another and led him away from the small crowd and the few chaperones that lingered outside the doors, out the other door where no one could see them.

“Are you drunk?” She asked him. For the first time in years he saw the concern he’d been striving for and something in him snapped.

He reached for her and kissed her so hard he wanted her daddy to feel it all the way in his office. Their teeth clicked from the sloppiness on his end but he didn’t give two shits. Not when he smelled her all around him like he did back when he sat behind her all those years ago and when he finally got to bury his nose in her neck and put his mouth on her, lapping at the sweat that already beaded up near the junction of her jaw and ear. He nudged his knee between her legs and grinded hard against the sweet mound that rested there, pinning her against the wall with both hands splayed above her head so that she was caged and all his, finally, lips entangled with his and so close she could taste the liquor he downed on an empty stomach just to get the courage to come to this shitty party knowing she’d be here.

But it didn’t go the way he wanted. There were no soft moans against the shell of his ear or hot breath tickling his chin. No strong grips on the collar of his jacket while she pulled him closer and bucked her hips against him in the way he thought about every damned night when he touched himself just to get to sleep. No whispers of his name. No tanned skin busting out of her jumpsuit that he could finally have a taste of, and no encouragement at all from her end.

She went limp. Like a noodle. Didn’t even struggle and hey, he wasn’t into it. No matter how much he kissed and egged her on she didn’t respond. Just turned her head to the side and let him, squeezing her eyes shut and waiting for him to finish. He couldn’t. Not like that, not when it looked like it made her sick and that this was just another way for her to ignore him when he gave her all the signs she needed to move forward.

Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [10/10]

(Anonymous) 2012-05-26 09:22 am (UTC)(link)
He peeled himself off her and swung his fist back to punch the wall, not caring if he broke a few bones in the process. The pain was sharp enough to use an excuse for him to explain the beads that welled up in the corners of his eyes, his heavy breathing and the deep, burning ache that was left in his chest.

She just stood there, unmoving and with that blank look he thought she’d outgrown. The same pity she held in her eyes when he flunked the test back in Brotch’s class and when Officer Gomez told him off in the diner for trying to scare her into giving up her birthday present. It was the same look she’d saved for him and only him and one that she’d continue to use for the rest of their damned lives because she was too fucking cruel and he was so imperfect that she wanted nothing to do with him. He thought he would change her mind but it was already made up from the first day he saw her sipping at his shake with his mom and she didn’t even return his gaze from across the room.

“I’ve got to go, Butch.”

She left him standing there with a broken hand bleeding and him tasting salt. She went back into the room and headed straight for little Miss Amata, extending a hand and taking her into an embrace in the corner. The door closed right as he watched the genuine smile she had on her face and it was so goddamned sad he had to laugh it all away until he crumpled to the floor and was found by Stanley making his rounds.

She kept her distance after that. He thought he would too, but it wasn’t that easy. He’d see her around. Make a smartass comment to get her to respond. Sometimes she would, other times she caught on and left him hanging. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of any sort of reaction because she knew that only spurred him on. He could say all that he wanted about her but never ventured out to make any remarks about Amata because he knew she would’ve slugged him. And while the contact would’ve been nice, he had enough bruises from her to deal with.

The day her father left he rushed out of the room because of the radroaches, not expecting to find her. She didn’t even think twice before rushing to get rid of them.

In that moment he realized what his mom said when she mentioned that the girl wasn’t safe. Not with the way she could still look at him and do what he asked after all the hell he’d put her through. Yet he wouldn’t pull himself away from her because she was that one thing he couldn’t have and it made him feel good when he took that one step closer though it was usually followed with four giant leaps backward.

She left and the vault went to shit. Paul died. Wally ditched the gang. The Overseer went crazy. And she was out there somewhere looking for her dad. Amata mentioned she heard stories of her on the radio when she picked up signals after screwing with the transmissions to call out to her. He listened to them sometimes on his Pip-Boy when he was alone and closed his eyes, imagining the rawness she exuded when she went on her moral crusades in an attempt to tame the outside world.

As much as he fucking hated her sometimes he picked up something else too. Didn’t want to call it love because he didn’t need the added stress of that label on his mind. But if love was throwing his jacket at her and feeling something when she wrapped herself up in that faded leather he carried on his back all those years...

...sneaking onto her old terminal and reading her sappy writing and drinking his heartaches away...

...waiting expectantly for the day she’d come waltzing back in and marking off the days on the calendar......

...and watching after Amata so she’d still have a head when the message got through...

...then sure.

Why the hell not.

Not like he would ever get to her anyway.

--

Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [10/10]

(Anonymous) 2012-05-29 08:55 pm (UTC)(link)
This is really awesome, A!A. Your Butch is so great. There's so much depth and emotional weight to him, without changing the character or forcing anything. This is so well-done. I don't really have words for it, except WOW THAT WAS AWESOME YOU'RE AWESOME.

Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [10/10]

(Anonymous) 2012-05-29 10:28 pm (UTC)(link)
A!A here - thanks a lot! Butch has always been kind of difficult to pin down because there aren't that many interactions with him in the game and trying to go off them is...oh man. I was iffy about posting this but you definitely boosted my confidence and I am ecstatic you enjoyed it~

Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [10/10]

(Anonymous) 2012-05-30 12:44 am (UTC)(link)
See, this is why self-doubt is bad. This is absolutely great, and I really enjoyed it and Conflicted.

Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [10/10]

(Anonymous) 2012-05-30 03:11 am (UTC)(link)
A!A here: D'aw, thanks! I guess my harshest critic is myself, but I appreciate the time you took to boost my confidence. C:

Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [10/10]

(Anonymous) 2012-08-02 09:06 pm (UTC)(link)
This is the greatest thing I've ever read. I love love love LOVE the way you portrayed Butch and the Lone Wanderer.