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

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

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They talk for a while, end up walking around Rivet City. It's all going well, or as well as it can, but when they pass a doorway to the science lab, Amelia loses it again, screaming and crying and punching the wall. Butch has to tug her arms behind her back to get her to stop, and even then, she keeps shouting and crying for a good ten minutes. The crying continues much longer, but she's calm enough that she tells him where room is and he can get her there so people don't think he's taking advantage of the fuckin' messiah of the wastes. The crying comes back full swing once he asks if she wants to talk about it or something (maybe it was the or something that got her, 'cause he didn't have a fuckin' clue otherwise).

He's finally gotten her to calm down when he kisses her. This is all he really knows how to do – besides barbering, but he's pretty sure she ain't up for a haircut – so if it'll get her to shut up, he's gonna give it a goddamn shot. She pushes him away after barely a second, staring up at him with wide, surprised eyes and a furrowed brow.

“What the fuck, DeLoria?” He winces; she never calls him by his last name. Back in the vault, he may have been a royal asshole to her, but they've always been on a first name basis, always Butch and Amy, Amy and Butch. “I tell you all that and you kiss me?”

“I was just tryin' to make you feel better, so sue me!”

There's a tone to his voice that leads Amy to believe him, however much she doesn't want to. With a skeptical look, she settles against him, arms wrapped tight around his middle. “Just hug me then, jackass.”

They stay like that until, hours later, Butch's stomach growls loudly.

woops, forgot to tag this with characters and such.
Sorry mods!

This is really sweet, A!A, and more than that, it's well written. I love me a good romance, and if there's more of this, I for one would love to see it.

not to worry, anon! there are a couple of prequel + sequel sort of things in the works for this one.

Amelia isn't a a child aching for confrontation; in fact, she's quite the opposite. She prefers sticking to shadows, hashing it out with words rather than fists. By the time she's ten, she can talk herself out of damn near anything – anything but the tenth birthday party she was desperately trying to avoid. There's not a single birthday party in the vault, aside from Amata's, that she's actually been invited to, but there are so few children that she just knows her father will invite them all, and that include that rotten Wally Mack and his friend Butch DeLoria. Butch, she supposes, isn't too bad – he's a rotten jerk and she wants to hate him, but not only is it hard to hate someone when you know they don't know one of their parents, but he also doesn't make things personal like Wally Mack does. There are no insults from him about how her father is useless or she's a huge loser because her dad is or anything of sort, not from Butch. With Butch, it's all “you're dumb,” “you're fat,” “you're ugly.” That, she can handle; she knows she's actually pretty smart, and she knows that it will be another couple of years before she loses her baby fat, and well, she's always sort of thought that ugly was a matter of opinion. It doesn't bother her if Butch and his band of misfit toys (she's heard her father call them that about six times before this day) think she's ugly. She has no interest in them – well, not all of them, anyways. By now, she's had a crush on Freddie Gomez for going on two years, and it's not even something she understands; sure, she isn't exactly under the impression that boys have cooties, but weren't girls not supposed to notice boys until later on?

“But, Dad!” The party is supposed to be a surprise, she knows that, but Amata has never been very good at keeping secrets. “I don't wanna go! I don't like surprises, and I don't like parties! Can't I just... Stay home and read?” she asks hopefully, doing her best to look innocent and kind and so unbelievably hopeful, because she knows that works.

It doesn't this time.

“Sweetheart, you aren't supposed to know about the party,” her father reminds her gently. “It would be a tad bit suspicious if you just decided that you wanted to stay home the day of.”

“But I didn't just decide!” Amy protests earnestly, looking slightly put off by the fact her father would even suggest such a thing. “I hate surprises and I hate Wally Mack and you know he'll be there and he'll go just to be a jerk, and because he's being a jerk, Butch and Paul will think they can be jerks too!” Paul's always been her favourite of those three – even when he's a jerk, he seemed too apologetic for her to take anything to heart, exactly the opposite of Wally.

Her father gives her a stern look. “If I don't see you in that room when the time comes, I'll be very disappointed in you, Amelia Marie.”

It's roughly four hours later that she finds herself stood in front of the door, glaring hard at it like time will fast-forward if she keeps it up. She clenched her little fists at her sides, takes a deep breath, then opens the door and steps in. It's insanely bright in the room in comparison to the dark corridor, and she jumps and screams when people yell surprise.

She's honest when she tells Amata she knew, but her friend doesn't believe her. She guesses her present incorrectly (or rather, hopefully), and Amata threatens to give away the issue of Grognak the Barbarian if she really wants a date with Freddie 'the Freak' Gomez instead (and, well, Freddie wouldn't belittle her like this, she thinks, so she' comes dangerously close to saying 'okay, give it away'). Later, she starts a fight with Butch, after he tries to steal the sweetroll that Mrs. Palmer gave her, by asking if he was hungry because his mom drank up all the ration coupons again (and, okay, she knows that was out of line, but Butch was being a jerk and it was her birthday and who did he think he was, anyways?).

When Jonas calls for her father on the intercom, she's confused, and even more so when her father tells her to meet him downstairs. When he presents her with a BB gun and let's her go hog wild (whatever that means – what is a hog, anyways?) on the radroaches, she nearly cries with joy and poses for a picture with her dad. Just after the flash is one of the last times she remembers being truly happy in the vault.

Amelia has been sixteen for five months when she takes the G.O.A.T.

Despite having done well enough in all her schooling up until this point, this test decides how she'll spend the rest of her life in the vault – it could make or break her life. She panics for almost a week straight leading up to the test; her father has to give her pills to help her get to sleep. The morning of the test, she tries one last time to get out of it, but it doesn't work, her father just shoos her out of his office and wishes her good luck.

She runs into Butch and the rest of the Tunnel Snakes (that just sounded like a bad pun, to her, but hey, if that was what they wanted to call their gang...) giving Amata hell and sighs heavily. This is a day to day thing, but she won't be any help today – she's too focused on this test. When Butch makes a snide remark as she passes by, she glares at him.

“You may as well not take the damn test, DeLoria,” she tells him, “you'll probably end up a garbage burner. See how hardcore your gang seems then.” When Butch pays her no heed, just continues heckling the overseer's daughter, she turns her attention to Wally Mack, who didn't seem to have been paying attention (and just her luck, too). With a sly smile, she sidles on up to him, doing her best to disguise the shaking in her hands (the shaking that is caused by either her mild fear of him or her nerves about the test, she really isn't sure). “So, Wally, what's it like, takin' orders from Butch, hm? I mean, I've heard you'll do anything he says. Takes dedication.” Wally ends up snapping about how he's in charge and marching off, but Butch stays, eying her.

She grows so nervous under his gaze that when he asks for ammo against Amata, she stutters out something about the girl being worried about her weight and hurrying into the classroom, red from collarbone to ear.

For the next twenty minutes, she answers questions randomly, taking a few minutes to ponder a question here and there just because she doesn't want to be the first person finished. Poor Freddie is talking to himself, freaking out worse about the test now than she has been the whole week – but that's probably the stress combining with his VDS (which she isn't supposed to know about, but her father did leave the clinic terminal unlocked once). After a few people file up and turn in the test, she stands and hands it in. When Mr. Brotch tells her that he can give her her results now, as a favour, more or less, to her father, she nearly faints, nodding so frantically that she can almost feel her brain rattling around.

After calculating her score, the man looks at her, eyebrows raised. “Vault tattoo artist, eh? I wonder who will be brave enough to be your first customer as the vault's new tattoo artist? I promise it won't be me.”

She decides that it isn't the worst job she could get saddled with, especially when her first customer is Butch, a week and a half later (he'd wanted the Tunnel Snakes 'logo' on his arm, and she'd laughed and called him a bitch every time he mentioned how much it hurt for the entire hour it took to get the damn thing lined and coloured).

hee hee, nice :)

Amelia hates traveling with Butch.

Sure, it's nice to have something of home with her, something other than old Tunnel Snakes jacket Butch had given her for saving his mom, the one thing from home that she hadn't sold in the beginning, but good goddamn, did he ever bitch a lot. She loves the guy to death (and, okay, maybe she's developed feelings for him since that whole kiss debacle, but she isn't about to admit that out loud), she really does, but she's pretty sure that she would prefer him if he were, say, not coming with her. He's sweet, but he's a loudmouth, and he's got a mouth like a sailor (on top of that, he's not all that great with a weapon, and that toothpick of his is just short of pathetic).

When they're in Rivet City or Megaton, though, it's nice, him being around. Sure, he's abrasive and loud and a drunken asshole a good portion of the time, but he's not malicious, and overall, he's nice to her. He's protective, which she isn't sure she understands, but every time they're in a settlement or a city and a guy so much as glances at her, Butch is there, either threatening the guy or tugging her subtly closer to him (assuming the guy was bigger than him, and that seemed to happen a lot) and shooting people nasty glares until they 'get the picture'.

“And what exactly is 'the picture', Butch?” she asks him lazily one afternoon in Megaton after one too many arguments with Jericho who just doesn't seem to understand that Gob wants him out of the saloon that's now his. She doesn't expect an actual answer, just some bullshit 'you know, the picture' sort of answer, because this is Butch and he's always been a smart ass. Hell, she figures that Gob is more likely to give an actual answer to this question than Butch is – she's known Butch a long time and she knows he probably has no clue what he's talking about.

The former vault dweller flushes, a pretty red painting tanned skin, though, to his credit, he doesn't falter with his answer. “Y'know, the picture. That you got the Butch-man; you don't need any of those dumbasses with you.”

The dark-haired female snorts, tosses back a shot of whiskey that burns the whole way down and makes her wince, before fixing him with an amused stare, raised eyebrow and all. “I've got a dumbass with me right now,” she quips, winking at him. She's pretty sure that's the whiskey – this is something like her fifth shot since they entered the saloon half an hour ago – because this is Butch here that she's winking at. Butch, who she's known as long as she can remember. Butch, who was an asshole to her in the vault (and still is, on occasion). Butch, who has next to no discernible knowledge of anything – Butch who can't fight to save his life, despite all that bravado.

Yeah, it's gotta be the whiskey.

She watches a frown pull at Butch's lips and she finds herself watching his mouth for a moment longer than is strictly appropriate, suddenly aware of just how nice his mouth is and then she has to stop herself, shaking her head. “No, all teasing aside Butch, I really do appreciate you, er, scaring some of these people off, though it is entirely unnecessary with Jericho – guy's all bark, no bite.”

Take her back over a year now and she'd probably have flat out laughed in someone's face if they'd suggested that she would say anything like that to Butch, of all people. Hell, take her back over a year and she'd have been laughing in your face for even suggesting that she'd be traveling with Butch.

Guess watching a parent die really puts things in perspective.

They banter like this for another half hour or so, Butch repeatedly dragging out his words in ways that make her giggle as the alcohol works into her system. Gob watches them, amused, because he doesn't remember ever seeing Amy look this happy, not even when she came back to Megaton with her father before they went off to work on Project Purity.

“Alright, alright, girly,” Butch says flatly, lips quirking up at one corner as Amy lets out a snort of laughter and nearly falls backwards off her bar stool, “I think it's time the Butch-man took you home. C'mon, get up.” He hauls the woman bodily out of her seat, wraps an arm around her waist to support her. “Let's get you home, boozy.”

Butch is amused – he always figured that Amelia, little Amelia Sharpe, doctor's daughter and goody-goody extraordinaire, would be completely against drinking anything aside from Nuka-Cola, and seeing her rapidly approaching plastered (hell, he'd give her ten minutes before she was drunk enough that she wasn't actually making sense any more) was giving him a bit more satisfaction than it should have. Halfway back to Amy's house, Butch gave up and hauled the dark-haired female over his shoulder, ignoring her slurred protests until he set her down just in front of the door.

“After you,” he drawled sarcastically, snickering when the girl glared down at the handle as though it should have just flown open because she was there.

She doesn't make it far – ends up flopping down on the large, heart-shaped bed that's dead center in the lower floor of the house. He watches her as she giggles, rolling onto her back and spreading her arms wide over the bed for a few moments; he can't lie, this may be Amy he's talking about, but the wasteland's done her good. She may not be quite as curvy as she was in the vault, but she's all sinewy muscle under that adventurer armor she's wearing, and he's pretty sure her tits are more than a good handful. As he tugs the door shut, it goes silent, and he spins around to find Amy perched on the edge of the bed, watching him. There's something in her eyes, and he's never seen it with her before – she looks predatory, and it's getting him all sorts of hot under the collar.

“Butch,” Amy practically purrs his name, beckons him closer, delights in the fact that Butch – full of bravado Butch – looks simultaneously nervous and like he's just won the best prize in world. “Come here.” When he finally came to sit beside her, she gave him a sly grin and pushed him back slightly, giving her room to move and straddle his lap. She ducks her head, presses a kiss against the strong line of his jaw, breathes his name into his ear. Another shift fits her hips more tightly against his and she gives them an experimental roll, chuckling when when Butch lets out a moan that he's probably only half-aware of and grips her hips tightly.

With a chuckle, she drops her head lower, kisses down his neck and bites down gently where his neck and shoulder join. She can feel him grow harder under her as she soothes the bite with her tongue.

“Goddamn, Amy,” Butch groans out, slipping his hands from her hips to grip her ass and force her hips more tightly against his own. She fits against him and she's so warm, and well, Butch would be lying if he said that he wasn't going to take full advantage of this situation (and if that made him an asshole, then so be it). He wraps an arm around her then, moves to pin her beneath him. He can't fight the shudder that rolls through him, seeing her spread out beneath him – and that's with her still clothed. As he works the fastenings on her vest so that he can get at her shirt, he nips at her neck, brushing his lips over each bite gently. She wriggles beneath him, hooks one leg up around his hip, makes it hard to concentrate on getting that vest undone, and he keeps slipping his hand down to run it over her stomach.

Amy lets out a frustrated noise, works a hand between them to undo her vest. “Move,” she mumbles, pushing lightly at his shoulders, “and help me get this shirt off.” Butch is only too happy to oblige, sliding his hands over her sides, pushes the shirt up over her head and kisses each bit of skin as it's revealed, revels in the fact that she wore no bra beneath the top that day as he sucks a nipple into his mouth. “Fuck.” She arches up against him, threads a hand through his hair (and, fuck, is she ever thankful that he's got no more of that nasty pomade shit he used in the vault). “Just want--” Her words are cut short when Butch bites down on her nipple, words turning into something between a protest and a low moan. “Oh, fuck.”

She practically kicks him off of her in her attempt to get her pants off, and once those pants are gone, he can't help staring. So much skin, all golden and don't think he doesn't spend a good few seconds imagining her sunbathing some place, skin glistening in the sun. A tug at the front of his jeans brings him back, and man, is he ever glad about that – Amy's undoing the button on his jeans, pushing them over his hips, her lips tracing a blazing trail over his skin as she does so.

When they're both finally naked, he sees that predatory look in her eye again, but he still doesn't expect it when she stands and pulls him down to kiss him hard on the mouth, and he expects it even less when she sneaks a hand between them to give him a few long, firm strokes. When he moans into her mouth, it's like it was the cue she was waiting for; she turns them, carefully, and nudges him back until his legs hit the bed and he's forced to sit. She nudges his legs apart, stands between them, drops a kiss at the corner of his mouth. Her runs his hands up her legs, over the curve of her ass, stops to grip her hips for just a moment before he lets one hand continue its path between her legs. Above him, as he slips a single finger into her and marvels at the wetness he finds there, Amy lets out a moan.

He can practically feel her gaze zero in hot on his mouth when he pulls his finger out of her and licks it clean.

That's when Amy decides she's had enough of waiting. She braces her hands on Butch's shoulders, moves to let her legs bracket his hips and sinks down on him in one fluid motion, head dropping back, jaw slack. She gives a few experimental shifts of her hips, rolls them and arches her back and cries out. The sensation of being filled is nearly overwhelming, and there's a moment before she manages to set a rhythm where she's not sure if she'll actually last, she's so full. The pace she sets is fast and hard, and, oh god, she doesn't think she's ever felt anything this good. When at last her movements begin to grow erratic, Butch keeps moving, gripping her hips to guide her, and she sneaks a hand between them to rub at her clit. She comes with a long moan, and Butch topples over the edge not long after watching her come undone.

You have a really nice fluid style of writing. I never find Butch sexy but that's Butch's fault, not yours! It's a great sex scene.

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

Re: Nightmares -- Butch/FLW 2/2

Re: Nightmares -- Butch/FLW 2/2

Re: Nightmares -- Butch/FLW 2/2

Re: Nightmares -- Butch/FLW 2/2

Dreams -- FLW, prequel to "Nightmares", 1a/1

Dreams -- FLW, prequel to "Nightmares", 1b/1

Hallucinations -- FLW, prequel 1a/1

Hallucinations -- FLW, prequel 1b/1

Re: Hallucinations -- FLW, prequel 1b/1

Waking -- Butch/FLW 1/?

Waking -- Butch/FLW 2/?

Waking -- Butch/FLW 3/?

Waking -- Butch/FLW 4/4

Re: Waking -- Butch/FLW 4/4