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

Entry tags:

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

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!

Where the Serpent King has it bad for daddy's girl but she could honestly care less.

Would die if it was in Butchie's POV going through their childhood up until she leaves and how much she frustrates him with her apathy towards him.

Even MOAR awesome if she's the nerdy and awkward type. <3

Butch ain’t the jealous type. No reason to be when you’re the best damn looking guy the vault’s ever seen. He’s been all the way with Susie Mack and Christine Kendall. Not at the same time or anything but…he’s working on it. Point is, he’s the leader of the biggest and baddest gang in the vault and he’s got a different girl wrapped around each of his fingers. No reason to be jealous of anything…especially not Freaky Freddie Gomez.

Except Freaky Freddie just walked into the diner with the Doc’s kid all cozied up under his arm and that doesn’t sit well with Butch. It annoys him, actually, ‘cause Freddie Gomez has a stutter and looks like a sick radroach most days, plus the kid managed to fail the G.O.A.T. so he ain’t that bright. Freaky Freddie’s got nothing on the Butch-Man, that’s a fact.

Except, you know, Freaky Freddie’s got the Doc’s kid all curled into him in the back booth. So many Freddie’s got something on Butch after all.

OP here. alsdfkjdla;lkfdkfla;dkf etc, etc.
I'm in love with you minifill!a!a, so be prepared for my utmost devotion.
It's so perfect I just can't even articulate how much I enjoyed this. So much said in just those few lines. <3333

Eeee! This is the sweetest most perfect little fill in the world.

This is so cute, and so Butch!

Perfection!!!

Lux likes to pretend she’s some sort of goddamn mystery or something, like no one really knows her and it’s all her by her choice. She likes to act all…aloof and shit, like nothing anyone says or thinks about her bothers her one way or the other. Butch can’t say for sure if it’s an act or not. Some days, the days when her kisses aren’t so rough and she wraps her arms around him like she wants him to melt into her, he thinks that maybe Susie Mack calling her Lab Rat does bother her. Other days, days where she throws him up against the wall and doesn’t even bother to look him in the eye, he’s not so sure those other days even exist.

Lux likes to pretend that they’re nothing, too. Unless he’s picking on Amata or acting out, she’s ignoring him. But Butch knows that she has a birthmark under her left tit shaped like an arrow. He knows that she prefers being on top and that when she comes she gets real quiet. Butch knows that she only likes her hair pulled when he’s fucking her from behind and he knows the exact spot on her neck to bite if he wants to simultaneously turn her on and piss her off. Lux likes to pretend that he doesn’t know these things and that’s fine, because Butch has a lot of other things he pretends not to know, too—like how her fingers feel wrapped around him, her lips too. Or that first time, her first time, so warm and wet and so unbelievably tight, clinging to him and making his arms quiver.

Sometimes, when she has just snuck out of his apartment or hasn’t bothered to come at all and he’s left alone, Butch pretends he never fucked up and never fucked her over. He imagines how it’d be if he’d never told Wally Mack and the whole goddamn vault about how he fucked the Doc’s kid. Or if he’d just had the balls to tell her how he felt and tell his friends to fuck off.

Butch knows that Lux makes these noises in her sleep, little hums every so often that always manage to wake him up. He pretends he doesn’t know she does this because they aren’t supposed to be like that. They’re not supposed to fuck and fall asleep together, they’re just supposed to fuck and move on. Unfortunately, Butch can’t seem to get around the moving on part of their arrangement.

Lux likes to pretend that he doesn’t know these things and that’s fine, because Butch has a lot of other things he pretends not to know, too

I'll be in my bunk.

This is extraordinary. Sexy, sad and sweet in precisely the right ratios.

Oh Butch. You big, stupid meathead made of marshmallows.

This is amazing, anon! <3 Seconding the "I'll be in my bunk" motion. <3

OP here. You are a god(dess) and I just...can't. Y U SO PERFECT?

Amazing. Words cannot describe how utterly perfect this is.

awww, i feel all warm and fuzzy! i'm glad you like it! (secretly considering turning it into an actual fic if i can ever stop being lazy)

Please, please do. That was amazing.

_{AUTOFILLIN' UP IN THIS BITCH.

I went a little overboard. Shit. I'm still encouraging other anons to fill this because my writing is blergh. But I got inspiration after playing through another file, so uh...}

Tags: character:butch, character:female_lone_wanderer, relationship:het, kink:unrequited, kink:angst

Summary: Butch reflects on his one-sided experiences with the FLW.

--

“We did it! My mom’s gonna be okay! You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, man! Hey, I know it isn’t much, but I want you to have my Tunnel Snakes jacket. Go ahead, take it.”

She stared at him with her thick eyebrows perking up before she reached out, wrapping her gloved fingers around the leather. “Um. Thanks.” She glanced around for something to put it in but seemed to remember that all she had on her was her BB gun and the baseball bat that was clenched in her hand, still sticky with the guts of the radroaches she totaled not moments before. She rested it against the wall before plunging her arms through the sleeves, straightening his clothing around her shoulders and chest.

He almost reached out to pop the collar for her but restrained himself, too off balance from the picture. He never thought he’d see her wrapped up in something of his, definitely not his jacket, the one thing he held onto for all these years without any regrets. It was a symbol of his brotherhood and his gang, not something he would’ve just handed off to anyone. And the way she fit into it, a little snugly, made his throat tighten.

“I’ve got to go, Butch.”

She turned heel and he watched her, too damn cowardly to say anything else but mutter a thanks for helping his mom. The first time she was in his apartment and it wasn’t even to see him – it was because he begged her to help him and she agreed. Even after all the shit he put her through. And it didn’t matter anyway, because she was leaving and he heard from the officers that she wasn’t gonna come back. She’d get to venture out of this shitty hole and make something out of herself, all the while leaving him behind.

Just like she’d done a million times before.

He locked the door after her and sat down on the couch with his mom then, who was still out of it and slurring something at him. He didn’t want to know what the hell was going on out there and it was better if he kept an eye on his drunken parent.

But something to loosen him up wouldn’t be too bad, right? He snatched the half-empty whiskey bottle from the table and brought it to his lips, knocking it back with a grin that soon morphed into a miserable look that he buried in his hands.

Jo was always so damn...unreachable.

Didn’t matter that there were only a handful of kids in the vault. The two of them never even met until school started. He saw her around sometimes like when his mom took him to the diner, back when she was sober. She’d always get him this tiny burger with curly French fries. Always managed to scrounge up enough ration coupons to get him a chocolate shake, too. So while they were in the booth he glanced across the room and spotted the girl he’d never played with before.

“Hey ma, who’s that?” He took a big, satisfying bite out of his meal, chewing thoughtfully. “She and Amata are eatin’ together.”

His mom wiped off the ketchup smeared on his chin and glanced across the room. “That’s the doc’s kid, Butchie.”

“Yeah? How come I never see her?”

“She’s not safe,” she explained. “You’ll understand when you’re older. I don’t want you to play with her. It’s bad enough you gotta go to her dad when you get sick.”

Butch thought about it. He remembered the doctor – had this big scruffy beard. His hands were always cold, that was why he made a fuss when his mom made appointments to head to the clinic. But despite his initial resistance the guy never seemed to break like his mom did and give him what he wanted.

One time he saw this cool snowglobe and wanted to take it, but the doc wouldn’t let him. So of course he screamed about it and threw a tantrum. To his surprise, he didn’t cave. He just laughed and kept working. Of course when he left he pocketed it because his ma never said no, so who was the doc to tell him he couldn’t have it?

He wasn’t sure why his mom didn’t like her. She looked normal to him. Kind of funny, actually. She had these big, bulky glasses on top of her nose and freckles. She was a lot taller than him though. The weirdest thing about her was her hair. It was so straight, black, and...long. He’d never seen anything like it. Everyone in the vault had short hair. His mom said it was just because it was easier to handle. But she didn’t seem to care and it was so weird. It went down to her waist and was pulled into a tight braid that trailed down her back. He’d never seen that before.

“What’s her name?”

He turned to his mom to ask, but found she was already getting ready to leave. She really didn’t want to stick around and he didn’t know why. He wanted to go over and talk to her. She was friends with Amata, something he never got the chance to do himself. The Overseer was her dad and he never let anyone play with Amata. No one was good enough, except for, well, the new girl. Maybe it was because he was older than the two of them. Or because he was a boy.

Well, that was just fine. He had Paulie and Wally to hang out with. He didn’t need no stinkin’ girls either, especially not one like that.

A year later he started school. He had to wait because most of the other kids his age were younger and they wanted everyone to be on the same page. So he was seven when Mr. Brotch ushered them all into the classroom, a chart in his hand. Butch already met up with Paul and Wally, the three of them planning to sit near each other for the duration of the school year. But that wasn’t what the teacher had in mind, and he had other plans.

“Butch, take a seat right here. Number eight.”

He stared at the desk in annoyance. Paul was in number two and Wally was four, clear across the other side of the room. It was a bad start. To make things worse, his entire row was full of girls. The clincher was that the doc’s kid plopped down right in front of him, crawling into the chair without saying anything. It annoyed him. She was weird. Why didn’t she say anything? He’d never heard her talk in the moments he caught sight of her. Now he was away from his friends and that stupid braid dangled right in front of his nose, sleek and shiny and just begging to be pulled.

“Jo, do you want to have lunch today? My dad said it’s okay so long as we stay in my room.”

Butch listened hard. So that was her name. Jo. Sounded like a guy. He watched the head in front of him bob with a response and disappointment rushed through him. She wouldn’t say anything! It made him so angry and he couldn’t understand why.

The class went on and everyone practiced writing their letters on lined paper. Afterwards Brotch collected them and went to put them up on the bulletin board outside the classroom. He lingered in front of Jo’s desk and smiled down at her when he looked at hers.

“My, my, Miss Jo. Looks like you’ve already got a good grasp on writing. Has your dad been teaching you?” She nodded. “I can see that. Looks like I may have to put you on a little accelerated program to keep you busy. I think I may have some worksheets around that you can take home with you. You don’t have to do them but it would be interesting to see how far you can get without me around to teach you.”

No. Fair. He worked hard on his paper, gripping the pencil between his fingers and trying his best to copy the letters. But they didn’t look right at all, at least not from the way she did hers. Who was this girl? When Brotch came over to his desk he took his paper and didn’t say anything. No congratulations, no sense of pride, nothing. So he seethed and sank down in his seat, glaring at the perfect little student in front of him.

Lunch couldn’t get there fast enough. He hopped out of his chair and after stomaching a lecture from Brotch about laughing inappropriately during the lessons (he had to find some way to entertain himself, it was so boring!) he headed right for the door so he could make his way to the diner.

Except, he ran head first into the girl that was crouched near it. A hard smack sounded off when his body met the other and he dropped right to the ground, flat on his rear end. The world spun for a few minutes and a giant textbook skidded toward his boots, a few papers flying out and a pencil whizzing right by his eye. He held his head in annoyance and was about to yell out a few choice words his mom used at him a couple of times when he saw who it was.

“You’re that girl, Jo!” He pointed at her almost accusingly. “Watch it!”

She blinked at him and fidgeted with her hands, trying to keep her glasses from sliding down the bridge of her nose. “Sorry,” she murmured. She picked herself up off the ground and towered over him with her freakish height.

Instead of helping him up like he thought she would, she bent down and scrambled to gather her things. It was the quickest he’d ever seen her go and once she had all the papers she dropped, she tucked all of it under her arms and booked it. Nothing but the swinging of her ponytail and the clack of her footsteps while she tried to get as far away from him as possible.

He wasn’t sure why, but she was interesting. Maybe it was because she was too quiet. Too much of a teacher’s pet. He often made jokes about it when she wasn’t around. All she ever did was bury her nose in her books and daydream but somehow she managed to get the top scores in class, always two steps ahead of everyone else, and well...maybe three steps ahead of Butch. She and Amata never left each other’s sides and he wanted to know why. Christine and Susie said she was a freak, backed up by the threat that Wally gave them as a relative that they shouldn’t hang around with her.

Yet even after being kicked out of the social group in class she never seemed to mind. At least, not on the outside. She’d just watch everyone with those deep brown eyes and chew on her lower lip. She was kind of slow outside of class, too. Never seemed to notice whenever people were talking behind her back. If a paper ball was thrown anywhere near her she would flinch. She opted out of joining the little league and instead cooped up in the classroom, scribbling away at those crazy worksheets that Brotch gave her as packet every week.

Christine was kind of mean, the type to laugh if you tripped and fell on your face and got a nosebleed. Susie was worse. She’d be the one that stuck her foot out in the aisle to make sure you made a spectacle of yourself. Amata always scrunched up her nose like she smelled something awful around everyone but Jo. Seemed like she couldn’t stand anyone but her best friend and often whispered insults when she thought no one was listening.

But Jo was different. She never said anything. She never did anything. She kept to herself. When Freddie stuttered while giving his report in front of the class he made the entire class roar with laughter ‘til his ears were red. She didn’t. She just stared at the boy in front of the room and frowned, as if she was bothered by it all. The time when Wally’s dad came to class and yelled at him for not cleaning up his room she was the only one who didn’t say anything about it afterwards. She kept to herself, always focused on her studies instead of engaging with the rest of them.

He leaned back in his chair and watched her run a hand through her hair. It used to be straight and one day it suddenly puffed out into their untamable mess. Still long. Her fingers got caught in a tangle and she tried to pry it out, unaware that he’d been staring at the process the entire time. He hadn’t even noticed Brotch lingering by his desk, slamming his last test on the desk and scaring the living hell out of him.

“Butch, see me after class.”

He grumbled to himself. He hadn’t been doing very well as of late. He’d never really paid attention and the earlier exams had been easy enough, but no one told him that the information from before would build on itself. Now he was clueless and everyone else seemed to grasp the concepts, even Freddie the Freak, who took absences from class more often than he did playing hooky.

“What did you get? Let me guess – a hundred, right?”

Jo flipped over the paper and laid her palms flat against it, not saying anything. Butch glared down at the score on his own paper in red marking with various comments from his teacher. Now she managed to get the best score, again, and rise to the top, leaving him looking like a moron. Icing on the cake. She was turning ten soon and he’d heard of whispers that she was going to have some sort of surprise birthday party. What did he get for his tenth birthday? Nada. Even the Overseer wanted to hold off on giving him his Pip-Boy.

“Hey Jo, lemme see your paper.” He stood up from his desk and leaned over, shoulders brushing up against her. She tensed. She stared at him with a blank expression that turned into fear. He liked getting a rise out of her. She wouldn’t react to most people but in these brief moments where she gave him any kind of emotion he relished it, and the knitting of her eyebrows and tugging at the corner of her mouth only spurred him further. “Give it here.”

“Gosh, Butch. Why are you such a jerk?” Amata snapped. “Leave her alone, will you? All you’re going to do is copy her answers anyway.”

“You shut up, Almodovar! I wasn’t talking to you!”

He tried to pull it back but Jo was quick in stopping him. She angled her body toward him and there was a certain spark behind those usually dark eyes of hers. She shot out and grabbed his arm with a tiny hand, stopping him in place. Butch stared at her and in that moment the eye contact made him feel so...strange. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not but something hot made its way from the pit of his stomach to his face. She pried the test from his grip and turned her back to him, shoulders hunched.

“Don’t use my paper to cheat. Mr. Brotch wants you to retake the test.”

He slunk back in his seat and glanced over at Wally, who was shooting him a look that screamed that he should’ve decked her. He only rolled his eyes but retreated, the feeling subsiding and his hand burning from the foreign touch.

“Freddie, you’ve been improving. Have your sessions helped?”

Butch sat in his seat, blowing obnoxiously large bubbles with the gum he grabbed from Susie’s bag. He let it deflate before chomping it back into his mouth, the treat crackling when he did so. He waited for Brotch to finish up with Freddie so that he could hear the same old spiel the teacher always gave him about reaching his potential and participating more in class.

“Y-yeah. Jo’s been...really patient.”

“That’s good to hear. You should show this to your father, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see how you’ve been doing.”

The sickly pale kid scurried past him and Butch watched him go, curiosity setting its course. So what, Freddie was getting tutoring sessions from Jo? He almost laughed at the thought but stopped for a minute. That meant the weirdo was spending a lot of time with her. She must have been talking to him. Putting all her attention on him, too, to help him succeed. He looked at the desk where Jo stood, another thick textbook clamped to her chest. She didn’t even turn to look at him but she seemed to smile and wave at Freddie before he left.

Were they friends or something? He hadn’t really thought about it. He did remember how she showed up at practice one day to walk him back to his apartment. It must’ve been one of the days she helped him study.

A part of him wondered if she was any good at it, and what she was like out of school. She never gave him the time of day when he poked fun at her after class, never bothered to counter him or argue. Sometimes she’d even go weeks without batting an eye at him even when he purposefully pulled her hair because it was dangling right in his face, or pointing out the rip in the pants she got one day she bent down to snatch up her fallen pen.

“Butch, I’m ready to see you now. Why don’t you come up here?”

He made an extra effort to let out sounds of disapproval, moseying over to the desk and purposefully blowing a bubble. “What now?”

“I’ve noticed that your scores have been dropping recently, more than usual. Is there anything you want to talk about?”

He stole a glance over at Jo, who straightened up at his harsh look. “Why? What’s she doing here?”

“I’ve spoken with your mother and she’s agreed to let Jo be your tutor. She can help you with your math.”

In that moment he felt more embarrassed than ever. Instead of declining in a rational way, he lashed out and knocked the book right out of her hands. “I don’t need her! A nerd like that trying to help me? I’d rather flunk out and get held back a whole ‘nother year than have to listen to her ugly voice!”

“Butch, there’s no reason to be mean. She’s only concerned and wants to help.”

“Yeah, right! This whole thing is stupid and I’m not doing it! I don’t care what my mom said!”

He pushed past her for the door, cheeks warm to the touch. He couldn’t understand why it bothered him so much. So what if he wasn’t good at school? He was good at other things, like making that stuff he planned to use for his new gel. Or picking the lock in his mom’s bathroom to steal a couple of the food rations for that chocolate milkshake she never bothered to buy him any more. He’d show Brotch. He’d show her too, with her dumb hair and huge glasses...

Jo was way ahead of everyone else in terms of physical development. She had to switch to the vault women suits and Old Lady Palmer hemmed it in certain places so she could fit into the uniform. She’d always been taller than the rest of them but now she was filling out other places too, especially her chest.

And it was torture seeing them. He’d never been so fascinated in his life. Big, round squishy globes on her chest that bounced when she walked. When she ran – which was rare – he swore his eyes almost popped right outta his head. Eventually her stomach and thighs started filling out too and the interest was gone because all his friends gave her disgusted looks and called her fat, a word he hadn’t really known until it happened.

She really irritated him. He had to take it out on her somehow. The rest of the kids in his class already made her an outcast of sorts so he was only engaging in normal behavior. Right? Sure, the rest of them pretty much ignored her but she pissed him off too much for that. He needed to take matters into his own hands, which usually meant cornering her after class and harassing her, or making loud comments during lecture so she would screw up on her notes.

He and the Tunnel Snakes were hanging out near the reactor room, on the stairs, when Wally shook his head and crossed his arms, glancing at the doorway. “So, Paul. Heard you got a thing for Jo.”

“What?” The dark skinned boy swallowed. Loud. “I do not!”

Butch watched his expression twist up in fear and Wally continued to drill him. “You’re all sweet on her. Ever since her birthday four years ago. Don’t deny it. Why else would you not want to date my sister?”

“You turned down Susie?” Butch sneered. “Easiest handjob I ever got.”

Wally didn’t seem to care that he talked about his family like that; he was only ever really close to his older brother and it was obvious that his sister was going to get around some time or another. “So, Paul. Got a good reason for us?”

“Uh...no, I just...why do you think I like that nerd? She’s too fat, boring, and a huge egghead. She’d probably be the most boring lay ever.”

Something swelled in Butch’s chest and it wasn’t laughter like he predicted. Even though he did crack a grin, mainly because it was funny to see Paul squirm under the pressure, it pissed him off. Who was he to say those things about Jo? He should’ve been the only one to speak badly about her. No one else said anything, especially not Paul. Besides, he heard that bigger chicks were more adventurous. Maybe she was just a private person because behind closed doors she’d make it worth your while. Not like he’d know or anything.

“Be right back. I’ll go ask her.”

Paul protested but Wally held him back, smirking while the Serpent King made his way up the stairs. He knew just where she would be, too. She liked to linger by the clinic studying in that big book of science she loved so much, concentrating hard on the huge blocks of text and the confusing diagrams. He just hoped that the doc wasn’t around to keep an eye on them or that he was with a patient.

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?

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?

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.

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.

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.

--

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.

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

FLW/Butch - Unrequited

Mini Fill!

Re: Mini Fill!

Re: Mini Fill!

Re: Mini Fill!

Re: Mini Fill!

Pretend (minifill!)

Re: Pretend (minifill!)

Re: Pretend (minifill!)

Re: Pretend (minifill!)

Re: Pretend (minifill!)

Re: Pretend (minifill!)

authoranon here

Re: authoranon here

Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [1/?]

Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [2/?]

Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [3/?]

Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [4/?]

Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [5/?]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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