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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 (1b/1)
(Anonymous) 2014-03-21 02:02 pm (UTC)(link)“Brotherhood technology,” he replies stiffly. “None of your concern, Wastelander.” He still remembers her metal-clad knuckles against his jaw, and wishes he had bothered putting on his helmet this morning.
Her eyes narrow at that, but she forces a smile to her face. It is far too bright and polished, too warm and patently genuine to be anything close to honest. “Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot before, but let’s try to get past that, okay? Let’s pretend you never tried shoving me off the gates or insulting Fawkes here, and I’ll pretend I never fed you a knuckle sandwich. Good deal?”
Bael neither confirms nor denies her odd request, instead locking his gaze back on that fascinating rust patch.
Puffing her cheeks out, she slowly exhales as if cleansing herself of all doubt. “Fine. Here goes nothing then.” She twirls in place, hair whipping against her cheek as she claps her hands to her face in mock shock. “My goodness! A stranger! Hello there, my name is Jinx! What’s yours?” Shoving her hand out, she pats at the side of his arm until, reluctantly, he takes the offered handshake.
“I am Bael. Hail and well met, Wastelander,” he grates in awkward mimicry of the more outgoing Brotherhood members. Surely she knows he cannot be anything but polite to her now, after all—not after she became an honorary member of the Pride, or became known as the girl to bring clean water to the Wasteland. This forced geniality only rubs salt on the wound.
She laughs like a child, oblivious to his seething. “Nice to meet you too! Say, have you ever—“
“Paladin Bael.” Bael recognizes the voice as Gallows, even before the stealth specialist walks into view. Outsiders might have difficulties telling Brotherhood members apart under their armor, but even if Bael did not see the distinctive marks (a few scuffs here, a carefully scratched set of notches under the chest…) only Gallows can sneak so quietly while in full armor. “Allow me to have a word with you.”
Shit. Somehow, he’s in trouble again. And somehow, he just knows it’s her fault.
. . .
Watching Irving Gallows all but drag Bael away by his ear, Jinx turns to cock her eyebrow at Fawkes.
“So…” she drawls, letting the syllable hang in the air. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“But Jinx, where will we ever find enough whipped cream?” the meta human asks amiably, the bass rumble of his speech sending a pleasant shiver through her body. His expression is perfectly deadpan.
Sticking her tongue out, she swats his arm playfully. “No, you goof. I just want to see what’s behind the mystery door…” She is already pulling a bobby pin from under her shirt, one of the half dozen she keeps clipped to the front of her tank top.
“Thieving from the heart of the Citadel is not a good way to repay friends,” Fawkes says disapprovingly, crossing his arms.
“Not friends,” she wheedles. “Just Bael. And I don’t want to steal anything. Just see what’s so interesting back there…”
His mild frown is the sternest rebuke he can muster. “You are aware that curiosity killed the cat?”
“More likely that was the bombs. After all, irradiated cats only have nine half-lives...” Her voice trails off as she gives him a pleading look, crossing her legs and sticking out her lower lip. “C’mon. Please?”