a/n: completed for the falloutkinkmeme. Smut, and that's it. Actually my first, and I'm still trying to get over the devastating humiliation, so please leave a review. /hide in corner/
prompt: Butch ends up hurt and in need of a doctor, but James isn't in, and his goody-goody daughter is the only one around to patch Butch up. Somehow, sexy times ensue.
There is a loud, pained groan from the doorway, and Eva practically jumps out of her skin. The nineteen year old slams the power button of her father's terminal and shakily plucks the glasses hanging from her neck. She blinks a few times as her eyes adjust. As soon as they focus on the individual in her father's medical office, however, the bridge of her nose crinkles, and she crosses her arms angrily.
"Butch, what is going on? It is the middle of the night..." she accuses, yet marches into the small waiting room anyway, watching as he plops down on one of the uncomfortable sofas. Butch grins at her, baring bloody teeth, and in the dim light, she can see that his nose is bleeding. She also notices a gash starting from his temple and ending at his chin, which she realizes has began to grow a light layer of stubble. It's quite sexy, to be honest.
Her eyes drift down to the front of his jumpsuit, and the leather jacket that clings to his biceps. A pool of blood has begun blossoming above his collar bone, and she panics. "What happened?" she stammers, but Butch waves a hand at her.
"Nothin'. Where's your Daddy, huh?"
She purses her lips, turning the usually pale pink skin white. The pout is enough to send Butch into a fit of obnoxious laughter, but his breath soon hitches and he coughs in pain.
"Think I broke one of my fuckin' ribs," he admits, and she blanches. "Daddy's not...Father isn't...he is currently sleeping. He does not know I'm in here, and I would like for it to remain that way." she says moodily, sticking her nose up and looking down at him airily. Butch grumbles, and removes one hand from his chest to place it on the sofa's armrest, meaning to get up.
Eva panics, and grabs his wrist to prevent him from staining her father's furniture. "Please, uh, please don't do that. It's highly unsanitary," she says breathlessly, and pulls him into the infirmary portion of the clinic, directing him to sit on a table opposite her father's desk.
"I will treat you to the best of my abilities, if you do not inform anyone I was here this late," she half-pleads, half-threatens, and Butch rolls his eyes.
"You're hella weird, Eva," he drawls and swings his long, jean-clad legs. They bump loudly against the metal stand of the table. The doctor's daughter grabs his knee to stop him, but blushes when a grin spreads across his tanned face. "Gettin' a bit touchy-feely there, ain't ya Doc?" he asks innocently, but Eva ignores the question. She glides over to the medicinal cabinet, retrieving bandages, disinfectant, and a few stimpaks - along with some cotton tips. She pushes her glasses up, wary of them falling from her face, and clicks the desk's light on.
Butch's face is suddenly awash in yellow glow, and she can't help but stare into the strange cerulean-green of his eyes for a moment or two. When a coy smirk spreads across his lips and he reaches a hand out to her waist, Eva smacks it away. "Please remove your jacket and unzip your jumpsuit," she directs, and turns around naively to allow him privacy. There is a curt, howling laugh from behind her, and she whirls around, telling him to be quiet.
Butch just grins and unzips his Vault suit, revealing a taut, white undershirt beneath it. He slips the sides of the jumpsuit down and lifts the shirt up above his head. In the process, he manages to rip some of the blood that is drying on his chest, wincing as attempts to peel away the cotton from the gash. Eva turns around at the agonized yelp that follows, and grabs his wrist to keep him from pulling even more. Butch sits there, arms above his head and looking quite ridiculous while Eva retrieves a wet washcloth.
She soaks the fabric around the wound until she can easily peel it off, and apologizes adamantly when Butch winces. Trying with increasing difficulty not to let her small hands linger on his skin, she applies a bit too much disinfectant. Eva presses a dry towel to his abdomen when it begins to drip towards his navel, blushing all the way.
"What happened, anyway?" she asks, trying to make small talk. She doesn't notice Butch staring at her lips as she speaks.
"Nothin'...got in a fight with Gomez." Eva looks up at him, eyebrows knitted angrily.
"He pulled a knife on you? That certainly doesn't seem fair," she remarks, and injects the area around the clean wound with a few stimpaks. Butch sighs euphorically as the pain killers begin working.
Eva continues the procedure freely, humming quietly as she works. When she pushes the sleeves of his jumpsuit further from his waist to get a look at his lower back, Butch suddenly groans, low and deep in his chest. Eva's hands freeze, and she looks down nervously. In her haste to treat the Tunnel Snake, she hadn't noticed her hands brush against the bulge in his jeans.
"You don't play fair, do ya, Nosebleed?"
Eva freezes as he leaps up from the table, swiftly cornering her against the wall. One of Butch's hands goes straight to her dark hair, and he tangles his fingers so tightly it tugs at her scalp. Eva moans, tipping her head back to lessen the pull. Butch grins and plasters his sly mouth against her neck, letting his free hand drift to her stomach and push away the doctor coat she's got slung over her jumpsuit.
Eva trips forward as she awkwardly tries to grind her hips into Butch's, enjoying the way he latches onto her so tightly. Butch bites at her neck, leaving a bright red mark and almost drawing blood. The delighted groan that falls from her lips surprises her, and she tilts away from him for a break. She's breathing in short, excited gasps, but he looks just as bothered with their situation. Butch relaxs his grip on her, letting his hand skirt down to her hips and squeeze possessively.
"Come on, Ev," he begs, thrusting his hips shamelessly in between her parted legs as she squirms. "Come on, come on, ple-fuck, ohhh-please." he repeats, but with much more urgency. Eva just nods, and in moments she is grinding her hips forward into his, roles reversed with her sitting on the medical table, watching his dark blue eyes roll back into his head with pleasure.
She slides her hands up Butch's chest, admiring the tight muscles of his abdomen and biceps before pushing the confining sleeves of his jumpsuit down until the fabric pools at his waist.
In response, Butch leans up and pulls her tight against him, creating a delicious friction that almost undoes her. His teeth work at her her lips, biting and sucking in all the right ways until she's squirming, completely at a loss to where her sudden sexual bravado and confidence came from. There was too much going on in so little time; the fingers of his right hand pulling the labcoat off her shoulders, letting it float to the floor while his other hand finds the dark curls of her hair again, twisting her head back so he can plunge his tongue into her hot mouth.
"Too good, too fuckin' good."
All the while, his hips are snapping back and forth, and eventually the force of their grinding gets so intense that he had to keep both hands persistent against her ass to keep her from sliding away.
"Butc- ohhh, Butch, wait, wait. Oh, yes!" Eva moans weakly, legs jelly as her first orgasm rolls through. She tilts her neck back, prompting him to attack it with sloppy, excited open-mouthed kisses as she shudders and shallowly thrusts her hips.
"Looking pretty fuckin' good there, Ev," he groans pleasantly, scooting forward to kiss her on the mouth, hot and ferocious against her lips.
Butch somehow removes all of her clothing, and she's sitting on the table now in only her plain creme colored underwear and the think tanktop she wears under her jumpsuit. Impatiently, Eva twists her fingers into his utility belt, shoving down the rest of his jumpsuit. They're both almost starkers now with Butch in his boxers. Eva presses her palms against the cold metal gurney as she stares at the obvious tent below his waist, curious and eager at the same time.
"Like that, Ev?" he questions, and steps forward again, pressing his erection into the apex of her thighs teasingly. She nods, biting her lip and reaching a hand up until it glides into his hair. Although it's thick with pomade and hairspray, she doesn't really think about anything when the scruff of his cheeks begin scratching against her stomach. Butch DeLoria is on his knees in front of her, and she twists her hand into her tanktop to keep from coming again and so soon.
Butch presses his palm against her tailbone, prompting her to move forward and lift her hips so he can remove her underwear. She's never gone this far with anyone - not even insistent but sweet Freddie. All coherent thought flies from her head when Butch reaches a hand up to her tanktop, kneading a breast and brushing his thumb against her clothed nipple. At the same time, he begins kissing the underside of her knees, and she almost kicks him in the face it's so ticklish.
"Fuck, what are you doing? Don't tease me Butch, please," she says harshly, and his black head pops up to stare her down. His eyes are wide, full as saucers, and she can barely see the lovely blue irises around his huge pupils. He's giving her a look so powerful that she feels weak again, and just the sight of him between her legs almost gets her going again.
"That was hot. Sofuckinghot, Eva, you don't even know. I…fuck, you never curse." he groans, and reaches his hand under her shirt to tweak and tease her. Eva squeaks and thrusts her chest into his palm, and slides one of her hands towards her center, desperate to make the ache disappear.
Before she can reach her destination, however, Butch grabs her wrist and pops two of her fingers into her mouth, licking and swirling his tongue around her knuckles. The intensity of his gaze has her heavy-lidded and her brain addled with a hazy lust.
After a moment of the agonizingly pleasant scene, Butch directs her hand up to her chest. He must realize her look is one of confusion, so he lifts her shirt over her head and firmly places her fingers onto her own nipple.
"Do it, Ev," he demands, watching her intently, nodding at her as she slowly circles the hardening nub. She groans, a little louder just for him, and he grins slowly. "Yeah, fuckin' touch yourself. iAh/i, fuck, baby. Hot." Eva decides she'll let him go on the unintelligent rambling, just this once.
He drops to his knees again, and her ministrations stop when he gets closer to her center, nose brushing against the soft, vulnerable flesh of her thighs.
"Wha-what are y- oh, shit Butch! Shit!"
Butch presses his tongue against her core, flattening his tongue onto the bud of nerves she touches only rarely, and prodding in all the best places. Her fingers drift down to clench tightly in his hair, pulling and kneading as he continues his ministrations, groaning in appreciation at her taste.
Without much of a warning, Butch slides a hand up her calf, her thigh, and presses it into her opening, knuckles-deep. She jerks, throwing her head back and unabashedly grinding against the digit, moaning his name and a few profanities. The tip of his finger continues brushing against isomething, something/i, oh fuck it she didn't care what it was.
Her fingers tighten further as he pushes another finger in, sliding them apart and back together. The stretching is slightly uncomfortable but relatively painless, and the sensation Butch's tongue is adding helps her discomfort very effectively.
"Close, Ev, close?" he pants, licking along her thigh and resting his head on her knee for a moment, gazing up at her with three fingers still pumping. Eva's fingers slip from Butch's hair, and she rolls her shoulders back, popping her hips off the table as he hits that spot over and over. She can only nod, bite her lip, and continue thrusting.
Then he takes his fingers out.
Her eyes snap open, desperate for that filling sensation, depressingly empty at the loss of his fingers. He gives her a sly, knowing smirk, and licks the moisture from his hand seductively. Eva almost loses it. She slips a hand between her legs before he can react, bringing herself to the edge and over it as quickly as she can. Butch looks betrayed, but incredibly turned on as she cries out, sweating and launching her hips into the hair as the shockwaves tug at her insides.
She's absolutely drained and dripping with sweat. Butch's lazy, content smirk fades as soon as she pulls him closer, and lays her head back on the gurney. The Tunnel Snake slips his hands under her back and knees, and before she realizes what's happening, he's on top of her, grinding away as she lays back on the couch.
Eva realizes he's trying to get himself off, and presses a hand to his chest. Butch stops, resting his head against her chest and panting like a maniac. "Here, let me," she murmurs, reaching a hand between them, slipping past the elastic of his boxers. Butch opens his mouth to stop her, but she shakes her head and gives him as best a seductive grin as she can.
"It's fully covered by your Vault insurance."
Her hand brushes against his cock, awkwardly brushing her thumb over the head and down the side, squeezing him as he thrusts. Her free hand goes up to twist in his hair, kneading his scalp in time with her wrist as it flicks over his length.
He buries his face into her neck, brushing an licking her collarbone and pulse point weakly. When he suddenly groans, Eva thinks she's messed up - until something sticky lands on her stomach, and Butch lets out a strangled, pleased growl. She stares down at the ribbons of come he's just spilled onto her skin. Butch kisses her when she looks back up, panting, sweaty, and slightly weak until she breaks away.
Curiously lifting her hand between them, she flicks her tongue over a finger to taste him. Butch groans and pushes her small hands away from her mouth, instead languidly kissing her, still rolling his hips against hers with passionate, long jerks.
"Fuckin'...that just fulfilled every fuckin' wet dream I've had since...ever...come true," he groans, wrapping his arms around Eva and letting his fingers dance up her spine.
"I certainly hope not. At least, I'm confident you can think of a great deal more," she replies, coming out of her shell and grinning wickedly. Butch shakes his head in disbelief. "Ain't ya have innocence or morals left, woman?" Eva lifts her chin to kiss him again, slowly turning it passionate. When the two nineteen year olds break away, they're both panting hard. Judging from the weight against her thigh, he Butch can definitely manage another fantasy.
"Probably not. Are you saying you mind?"
"Fuck no!"