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

[falloutkinkmeme_backup]

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

GO TO THE LATEST PAGE TO POST NEW PROMPTS

---

PINBOARD ARCHIVE: Filled Prompts | Unfilled Prompts

• Fallout Kink Meme posting guidelines


• Read something? Love something? No matter how old the story is, please let our amazing authors and artists know that you enjoyed their work with a nice comment, and share the love by recommending your favorite fills!

Comments

Take Your Time (Butch/M!LW, implied Charon/M!LW) 3/4

[(Anonymous)]

No, no.

Tate was up in an instant, grabbing at both of Charon’s arms trying to pull him back and away from Butch. The booth was so small though. Tate held on and widened his stance to give him as much leverage as he could get. Charon still outweighed him though, all that extra height and equivalent muscle. Being lower to the ground would only do so much for Tate.

He had told Butch about this, fucking told him never to hit Charon. That no matter how much the two bickered and fought at cursed at each other, he was never, ever to strike him.

“Go, Butch, run!” Tate’s grip held firm, maybe he was stronger than he thought, or Charon’s self-preservation drive was not quite as strong as he anticipated.

“No! Fuck this. You own him, Tate. Not the other way around. Fuck you both!”

So much for not attracting attention. There was bound to be a pack of incoming ferals.

“Butch, stop. Just apologize okay before we become zombie food.”

“No. No Tate. What, do you want him more than you want me? Is that it?” Butch looked defeated, but only for a moment. “Nah, fuck that.” He smashed his fist into Charon’s face again and the bodyguard broke loose.

Butch tried to grapple with Charon, but there was no room to maneuver and they smashed into the metal wall. A dull clang filled the space and the whole vestibule shook. Tate could hear them now, the heavy footfall of the approaching ferals. Some quicker than others. Groans that he had never quite been able to place punctuated by hissing. Many of them. How many, he wasn’t sure. They’d ignore Charon and tear him and Butch to shreds. That was if Charon didn’t beat Butch to a pulp first. Charon had Butch on his back and if Tate didn’t do something soon…

The ferals.

The contract was overridden when Charon was physically threatened. He’d always defend himself. But if Tate was in more immediate danger than Charon, he wasn’t sure which order would take priority.

No time to think it through. Tate scrambled out of the vestibule and headed towards the noise.

“Tate!” Charon’s voice followed him out.

Just run. The faster he ran, the faster Charon would forget about Butch’s dumb ass and follow him towards the ghouls. This would work, they wouldn’t hurt Charon but his anger would be redirected. They would make it out of this and all laugh about it afterwards. Hah hah so funny that time the two of you tried to murder each other. Good times.

Charon was long-legged. He was bound to catch up to Tate before too long. But Tate knew he was quick, slid down the escalator rail and darted into the tunnel. Had to gain as much distance as he could. There they were, the feral pack, coming out from between two cars. They must have been sleeping or just hiding behind them. Their leathery arms surged forward, grasping and clawing at Tate though they were still a step or two out of range. Tate closed his eyes and waited for Charon to reach him. He’d make it in time. Always did.

Right on cue huge hands grabbed Tate’s shoulders and threw him back, away from the wall of ferals. Tate had expected to land on the ground but ended up against Butch. His face was all swollen on one side and his armor was torn loose at the shoulder. Charon hadn’t gotten him so bad.

“Fuckface, you were supposed to run away from him, not chase him.”

“Nosebleed, I was chasing you.”