Ha, HAAA, This is a.. Mature? piece of fiction here lovelies. Basically, it contains the elements Fallout 2 was notorious for. DRUGS! BAD LANGUAGE (with no class, were Cassidy to chime in.) BLOOD! Sort of... AND SEX!

I don't own Fallout 2. Well, I own a copy of the game. But I hold no rights to it.

Nor do I own the Boy-Wonder, a Highwayman, the Chosen One (though her 'skank-ass' personality I did come up with,) or Bobby Darin's version of "Mack the Knife."

If this goes well (which I'm not sure it will due to the hate for one of the characters,) I might post my other homeless Fallout 2 stories.

Anyways, this was a lovely little prompt on the KinkMeme. Which was for anything involving the Boy-Wonder. Preferably hot pestering-incited sexeh times in the Highwayman.

This is the first prompt I ever filled as well as the first story to be posted on here. :I MAKE IT OR BREAK IT, BABY.

So, yeah.

Wasn't a surprise that she totally begged (asked once) for ol' Myron to come with her. Hell, every girl did eventually.

He was Myron. THE Myron. The one who invented fucking Jet! BOY GENIUS. WHO COULD FORGET HIM?

Everyone. That's who. Until something needed doing. Then they were begging for him.

Myron, make me some stimpaks. Learn to shoot straight, Myron. Ooooh, Myron, baby! PASS ME THE JET. Myron, make sure no drugs get in Cassidy's pack (He had the biggest urge to put a psycho in there, just for shits and giggles.) Myron, watch the car while the adults go get booze. Myron, I think Sulik is lonely, go keep them and him company (hard talking to a guy with a FUCKING BONE IN HIS NOSE. Hah. Boner.)

At least there were the girls. He loved the girls. And they loved him (not really.) They begged to see him (leave.) He was a ladies' man, and no one could resist the walking sex machine that was Myron (especially if Papa Mordino was shelling out the dough for it.) But following the 'Chosen One' around got him NOTHING. Even Marcus got to make a comment about impregnating some whore. Though, seeing Ms. Tribal wrap her head around that concept was kind of amusing (cute. WAIT, NO. HOT. IT- nevermind.)

But something about the tribal babe he'd been following was different from any girl he'd ever met (whores… Girls.. Semantics.) It's why he went with her, even when the possibility of getting scalped by his favorite crime boss presented a number he seriously didn't want to calculate. She didn't beg for jet, or tell him that he was a complaining little pussy with terrible aim, even when he accidently shot her (twice… every gun fight.) Sure, he might annoy her at times (any time her eyes were open) yet she didn't snap at him for it. So offering to give her the greatest night of her life seemed like an appropriate way to show his appreciation.

Until she said 'No.'

Flat out rejected him. Maybe she didn't hear him? So he asked again. No. Then he started to beg. Still, no. And soon enough the begging would start anytime they were alone. At points he'd beg even with Marcus, Lenny, or Goris around. Not with Cassidy nearby, though.

Could he help it though? The girl was a DOLL. Tribal or not, she was more than just a nice set of gams and tits. She could play with the big boys when it came to chems (damn broad always interrupted his GENIUS stories), and when she got into a fist fight, you could be sure the dumbass who engaged her had no chance in fucking hell to touch her. And if those didn't work, she had this way of turning a guy on during a conversation that proved to be really useful (distracting.) When the person she was trying to charm wasn't a guy, she could just bullshit her way past them. Beautiful and blessed with a silver-tongue (Heheh, that tongue.)

Her skills with explosives and practically everything else was horrible, as a downside.

Especially driving. First time she got in that thing, group decided to ban her from the wheel. She didn't care though. She preferred to sleep, even splay out in the back seat, using the boy genius as a leg rest, which he was perfectly fine with ('Mmmm-mmm, those legs go all the way up?')

Now, the babe was talented, beautiful, and didn't play coy to any of it. Holding herself to a higher standard, maybe that's what made him beseech so fervently. She wasn't open to just anybody. You had to impress her, do something to catch her attention. No free rides with her or even paid rides. She had a V.I.P. list and getting on it wasn't an easy thing (unlike your mom. Oh god, funny because it's true.)

It finally hit a point where she wouldn't even act suggestively around him, conversing with him more now in a friendly sort of manner. Still, every time he'd hear her whisper suggestively towards someone else, or tease Marcus or Cassidy (Mutant and old geezer, oh that's fucking nasty,) he'd find himself squirming. Even if she was just telling him something, or complimenting him on his knowledge of pharmaceuticals or what-have-you (Myron looooves the R-E-S-P-E-C-T thing, tastes fan-FUCKING-tastic), he'd find himself desperate to have her looking at him a little bit longer. He was wrapped around her pinky (whether she liked it or not) and was similar to a thread caught around said digit; no matter how hard she pulled away, he'd only cling tighter and tighter (called a tourniquet, baby.)

So of course it struck him as strange when Marcus and Sulik left the car, leaving the Tribal and him in there unattended.

"Heeeey, beautiful, is it me or are we at last alone?" Myron murmured, fully taking the situation in. His eyes crept from the smooth, tan ankles resting on his lap upwards, and made it mid thigh before realizing the Chosen One was staring at him.

"I told them to go get supplies. I heard word your previous employers had their eyes wide for you. Don't make a mention of it, Boy Wonder," she mumbled, redirecting her eyes to her feet. She flashed a small smile at him, and wiggled her toes. "Saved your ass, you owe me."

"You tryin' to give me a foot fetish, gorgeous? Because I've been wondering what you could do with these babies, if you ah," he remarked. He grasped the closest foot and started to knead it, taking care to not be too firm. "Know… What I mean…"

She groaned-be it from the massage or the sexual comments, he couldn't be sure.

"Mmm. And yes, I get it. Myron, is there any way to stop you from doing that?"

"I just started, sweetmeat. And when the Myron starts, there isn't any stopping him." He grinned at her, receiving a simple sigh of frustration from her.

"How about I give you some money, and you go blow your sexual tension off on some poor girl at the local whorehouse later? I mean after Mordino's embers dull," she asked, and got a less than enthusiastic response back. He stopped and turned to her with a look she'd never seen him use before. "Oh, spirits help me, Myron. You really aren't going to let this go, are you?"

He let go of her foot and nearly shot forward, lying on her like a futon and adhered to her securely. Head lying on her chest, he began to act far more childish than normal. His green eyes widened, his expression was almost a pout.

"Kitty cat, please!" he begged, letting a whimper out. "I've changed! I'm sick of getting the dregs! I'm new and ah, improved, in more than one way. I don't want some dumb bitch, or disease inflicted whore. I'm past that; I've got refined tastes, lovely! All I want is a long raven-haired woman, with a natural tan and baby blue eyes! Also, making me beg is kinky, you wicked girl."

The tribal's bright eyes scanned her younger companion. There was no doubt he'd changed since she picked him up. He'd actually grown inches taller, let his hair get a bit more ragged, and the smell of formaldehyde had waned completely from him. Considering all the supplies he'd lug around, having offered to carry more so long as he wasn't dropped, it wasn't surprising he'd gotten a bit more toned. In conclusion, he had shaped up and he actually matured physically.

Her praise stopped there, realizing he had buried his face in her boobs, the brown cloth of her tank top serving as a poor barrier.

"Myron."

"Hold on, Kitten, I'm doing, uh... research." He said, his words muffled by the surrounding cover. "Women's breasts. No better stimulant on the market, hehe."

She grabbed him and threw him to the opposite side of the car, finally aggravated by his antics.

"First off, call me Kitten or Kitty again and I won't hesitate beating you here and now. Secondly, I'd love it if you would learn some self control, like a real man. Last call, are you actually saying if I sleep with you, ONCE, I'll be free of your begging?" She asked, crossing her arms firmly over her chest.

"Gorgeous, sleep with me once and it won't be me begging anymore." A sly grin spread across his face and he sat back aloof.

"Smooth, Valentino. I suppose there's no use resisting."

She let out a small huff and stretched to the driver's side door, hitting the button and locking the doors. Before she could return, she felt a hard, swift smack across her backside. Wearing a glare, she swung around to the blonde who matched her scowl with a smug smirk. With that, she crawled over to where he sat, a change in behavior taking place. Still leaning back against the back-passenger side, Myron continued to beam, partially giddy in the fact he had finally won. It was annoying how he was acting. Full out obnoxious in fact. Yet, that hopelessly constant flirtation was somewhat endearing; in a dorky sort of way.

Their faces grazed past each other, as the Tribal hesitantly closed the gap between them. Straddling his lap, she took into account the limited space that the back seat of the Highwayman had to offer. Tremulous fingers found their way up from her hips to her back, bringing her back to the situation that was at hand. Myron had pulled her inch by inch closer, bringing a strange shaking to her body. But the shaking wasn't her. Were her eyes bad in the dark or her familiarity with males limited, she might not have recognized the signs: flushed face, slight shivering associated with high rates of palpitation, and dilated pupils. Had the megalomaniac actually experienced a break in his confidence?

Oh this was going to be great.

Using one hand, she twirled and teased one of the blonde's stray clusters of hair, slow and steady, while her lips rested against his ear. Underneath her, he twitched, and the Chosen One could only bask in the gratification she got from it.

"Awww, Myron…" She whispered, her voice mirroring her behavior. "How cute. You're nervous…"

"I'm not an amateur if that's what you're implying, Kat," He muttered, and then took in a deep breath. "I'm fucking calm. It's just some built up tension, beautiful. I'll be fine once we get go-"

The words were cut short and slurred into a groan, as Kat had begun to rock back and forth on his lap. He bit his bottom lip, quieting the groan, and struggled to keep himself from breaking, to keep from losing her interest so early on. She ground down slightly harder, hips dipping down farther, and her speed increased. She was pacing herself to achieve the maximum amount of revenge she could. She didn't hate him. Quite the contrary, she was actually somewhat fond of the annoying man. But Kat always had an aversion to the idea of fucking someone even a year or two younger than her, and his begging hadn't made him any more appealing. His persistence was something to be admired however. Pressing her lips against his neck, she slowly started to trail downwards.

Myron clenched up and pressed back harder against the car side, but instead of giving in and pleading for deliverance; he forcefully thrusted back, causing a small gasp to escape from the Tribal. The gasp went fully noticed by the blonde, and though his whole body was still tense, a small smile of accomplishment crept from his lips. Kat had paused the torturous grinding, giving Myron a chance to gather his bearings. Her lips had stopped their progression as well, although he found that the warm breaths against the crook his neck weren't any better of a substitute.

Withdrawing her body a bit, the surprising surge of courage from him was the straw that broke the Brahmin's back. Provoked, the Chosen One no longer wanted to turn back. Originally a small part of her worried some stranger would see them, or even that Marcus and Sulik would return, but at this point they were no longer a threat. One hand reached from her side and tugged on Myron's shirt. There on the tribal's face was a scowl, demanding and impatient. Once more, she tugged the shirt and motioned for him to strip. He fumbled at the buttons, speeding up when he saw Kat pull a knife out from the floor board.

"WOAH, WOAH! Sweety, kink is cool, but that's a little-"

Handling the knife like a pro, she sliced the shirt open with a smirk. Myron had seen her look like this before. Given long enough, even the famous Chosen One got horny. She'd eye the best looking man in the room, or just the most fit, and soon enough the whole building would be hearing the thuds and moans. If she weren't so picky about who she slept with, she'd easily fit the label of a slut.

He felt the knife cut his skin, causing a small yelp to escape his mouth.

"Ah, shit! What the hell, Kat?" He gasped.

She let her body slink down to where her face was level with his chest, and her body splayed out the length of the seat.

"A little blood never hurt anyone, Myron. Well, never killed them at least." She cooed. Dark red droplets against the pale canvas caught her attention, and she licked her lips.

Eyes half-open and chest heaving, he watched as the tribal placed her tongue to his naval and brought it up slowly. She lapped up the blood and reached the scratch that laid right above his heart. Upon licking it, a queer sort of smile started to emerge across her visage. Her mouth suckled the spot as she began to massage the cut with her tongue. While she did such, Myron hand brushed through the raven hair of the tribal. It was soft, smooth, and the tips of it rested slightly past her ass, traits that none of those Mordino-paid whores ever possessed. Sometimes it was the little things that mattered.

Once she'd removed her lips from his chest, Kat rested her face against him; a sudden and overwhelming heat had come over her, and she was gasping for air. Her body had begun to tremble from need, and she felt as though she'd been slipped something. Dragging her eyes to the point of seeing her companion's face, she groaned and gripped him lackadaisically. He looked at her, suddenly bursting out into laughter.

"Babe, what'd you take? 'Cause you look fucking smashed!" He was still shaking a bit, but the sight of seeing her, a prude when it came to chems, flying high, was quickly bringing him back to speed.

"I-I didn't take anything," she stuttered as she struggled to get a grip. "W-when did you last take drugs l-last?"

Her fingers began moving between them, skating down her own body. She bit her lip to stifle moans induced by the self-exploration, so the boy genius wouldn't be alerted. It was as though some being was fondling her soul, urging that she repeat the actions. Each individual touch brought a surge of pleasure to her and all she could do was concede to the cravings.

"Doesn't really matter. But every.. Oh I don't know… four hours I take a whole she-bang. Mentants, Buffout, Med-X, Psycho… All depends. Keeps my mind nimble," he purred, feeling much more confident with the Chosen One acting doped. He tugged his shirt fully off, dropping it to the side, "as well as other parts."

Enough was enough. Kat pulled away, cried out, gave into self-indulgence, and began to paw at her own garments. She was trapped in a box with an insatiable need to be touched, to feel like someone acknowledged her. That somebody genuinely wanted her and that she wasn't numb to the world. The sensitivity to her surroundings had strengthened, and no sensation went unnoticed. Arroyo's hottest and driest day was comfortable in comparison to how the car's climate was, her body accumulated moisture as the incredibly long seconds slugged passed. She let her body fall back against the seats, and spread her legs giving her hands better means to wander about. How it was possible that Myron had brought this state upon her, even if indirectly, was beyond her. Questioning it was the least of her priorities, though. At this point her hands alone proved lacking, and she needed more.

"Rrrroowr! Well, that was faster than I-" before he could finish, Kat tugged him down on top of her and brought him into a rough kiss. Never before had a woman kissed him as desperately as this one did and that alone excited him. Skilled hands massaged his scalp while simultaneously bringing them closer. The kisses were deep, animalistic, unlike the shallow pecks whores often gave him. The moaning made them even better, sending hot vibrations through his mouth.

Upon reaching a small break in the fervent session, he concluded the clothes had to go. Eagerly he stripped her, throwing the brown shirt to the front of the vehicle. Once this was done they met lips again, and his hands traveled her torso, tentatively charting every feature. Occasionally, a satisfying whimper would escape his partner's lips whenever a soft spot was located, sending her figure arching into him.

The palms gradually moved down to her breasts; bare and perky, definitely a handful and a half each. Without hesitation he had begun to caress them, using a startling tenderness and making sure to take the time to witness his 'boss' squirming at the sensations. She snaked her legs around his waist, almost forcing his crotch against hers. He let out a deep breath, subduing that natural reaction in his pants. He had to make this last as long as he could, first impressions and what not. Finally breaking the kiss he snuck her a deviant smile. He lowered his hand from her breast and dragged it downwards. He toyed with the buckle to her pants, eliciting small impatient whines from the woman. Her hands tore at the fabric of the seats, and she had begun to tear up at the growing tension. She'd taken punches from mutants, and thrown them back twice as hard when sparring, yet the pain of this was unbearable? The fall from grace was hard and long, but at this point she just wanted him to stop fucking with her mind, and start fucking her!

"Don't fret, my sultry little Tribal... Ol' Myron will fulfill your every desire soon… Just, ah.." The sound of the radio static momentarily distracted him. It'd been stubborn lately, likely dying a slow undignified death. It skipped around more often than not. Myron simply ignored it, unwilling to leave the Chosen One to throw a shoe at it. Returning to Kat, he let out a small purr, and drifted down her body. His face stopped at her bust, and smirked as he watched the pair rise and fall, the movement lulling his face closer.

"Oh girlsss, I believe we have some unfinished business…" His arm wrapped around her, lifting her up a bit before he gently flicked the nipple with his tongue. A soft moan was given in response, so he continued onwards, placing his mouth on what he could. He teased the teat, sucking the skin roughly. She trembled, and reached down to grip his hair. She struggled to make any sort of noise without becoming out of breath.

Oh the shark, babe, has sharp teeth, dear

With his free hand the blonde maneuvered downwards and in between the folds of Kat's remaining garments. It'd be a daring move in any other situation, but the Chosen One was practically crying for it. He pressed against the thin material and slid the fingers from the front to the back and repeated this motion, quickly coating his finger in her juices. He removed his fingers and took his mouth off of her breast causing the girl to go into red-cheeked fit. He eyed the gooey substance that ran down his arm with satisfaction. A sudden force pulled his body against hers, and his face right next to Kat's.

"S-stop your bullshitting," Kat panted, clearly struggling to get the words out. "And STICK YOUR DAMN DICK IN."

"Mmmm, love it when you talk dirty, baby. But uh," He snickered, trailing his thumb against an erect nipple, bringing another moan from the tribal's lips. "You're not in the position to tell me how to fuck you. You can top next time, gorgeous."

He forcefully removed her pants, again throwing them into the front. His fingers glided over the panties, feeling the fabric soaked in the gooey substance from earlier. Wrapping around him, it was clear she finally submitted to him running the show. Resisting would only lengthen the already-agonizingly long wait. Heavy breaths escaped from her, colliding against the skin of the boy.

"Now, how about that begging?" He lustfully whispered into her ear. He was dying to comply with her, but he knew better. She had to acknowledge who it was that fucked her, especially with her current state.

Ya know when that shark bites, with his teeth, babe

"Go on, beautiful." He purred, her body arching into his. "Say my name. Tell me who you want."

She let out another moan, her eyes glazed over and hands desperately clawing down his back. "Pl-please, y-you are.."

"Not good enough. You gotta say it, babe." He growled, his fingers dipping past the panties and going straight in.

The sensation was tripled for her, as was every other sense. She let out a cry, her sex tensing around his fingers. Each thrust from him was more agonizing than the last. He was torturing her with a skill she thought she had mastered. Anyone she came across worthy her time was likely to have at least made-out with her, at her own behest of course. They submitted to her sex appeal, to her superiority in the area. She'd even given a Navarro Sergeant a run for his money, eventually charming him into a quickie. Yet here Myron was, making her his bitch. Sure she was in a state of absolute ecstasy, but it was at the expense of her pride. It wouldn't matter later though. It didn't matter then actually. All that mattered was satisfying her libido and making that horrific pleasure end.

Could that someone be Mack the Knife?

"Come on, Kitty. Just say my name. Tell me the name of the man you desire," He hissed; his voice dark and brimming with narcissism, "Tell me the name of your.. God."

He added a third finger, sending her writhing further. Again, he knew she had scratched his back up. He was bleeding. Yeah, it hurt as she clawed into his skin over and over like a crazed cat in heat. But it was him, not some smooth talking shit-for-brains or muscled mutant or kickboxing ghoul, that was making her whimper and plead; that was making her go insane in ecstasy. And he knew no other being had ever or ever could make her feel as dreadfully amazing as he could.

"My..." She whimpered as he slowed his thrusts, "Myron, m-my god, please."

Could it be our boy's done somethin' rash?

And there it was. He removed his fingers from her, taking in the sight of her juices coating his entire hand, and dripping down his forearm. He lazily wiped the fingers off on the upholstery, before letting his lips form a pleased half-smile. The focus had quickly gone from the fingers to the woman lying before him. She panted, gasped, and shook in anticipation. For a moment, he could see the Tribal girl that existed before the wasteland, and before she'd been corrupted. Dependant, frail, needy. It was kind of cute, though. And he wasn't normally into that innocent thing; virgin, yes, but not chaste as one of those fucking vault pricks. There always was something different about this tribal girl though.

After sliding her underwear off, he followed by unbuttoning his own pants, sliding them down and pulling her closer. He positioned her legs parallel with his torso, the ankles extending past the crook of his shoulders and her legs laying against his chest. With a gasp and a few tears shed by her, he buried himself inside her.

Now that Macky's back in town.

Of course, with only a few sharp thrusts, and a chant consisting of the megalomaniac's name alone, she came with a moaning scream, and of course he came soon after. The car stopped shaking from side to side, and its shocks quieted down, no longer enduring the abuse.

Fourty-five minutes later…

Myron's ears perked to the sound of the trunk opening and subsequently slamming shut.

"Fucking took them long enough…" Myron muttered, following that up with a yawn. That was record time he had lasted, and he put far more effort into foreplay then he ever had to, so it was expected he was worn out.

The doors to the highwayman clicked open, and the car shifted violently as Marcus and Sulik got in.

"Grampy Bone told ya dat trader had bad juju." Sulik shoved the key into the ignition, and started a series of attempts to start the jalopy up.

"Well, I'm sure he wouldn't have been so sour if you hadn't busted his… What was it, a… preserved Deathclaw skull?" Marcus grumbled back, shifting slightly in the cramped passenger seat. "Either way, I was reasonable with him, but after what you did…"

"Da spirits loathe men dat lost dere path. Worshippin' a set of eyeballs an' moldy skin ain't right." Sulik chortled. "We an' I just tried tah help guide him."

Marcus glanced at the radio, which was working to his surprise. He glanced back at Myron.

"Sorry we were gone so long, little fella. Complications with the trader made it hard to barter for the stuff boss was wanting. I'm sure me being a mutant wasn't making things easier.. But…" Marcus said before realizing Myron's obvious clothing malfunction. His eyes drifted farther down to see the tribal curled up next to the boy, the only fabric on her body being underwear and that abused brown top.

Marcus cocked his brow at Myron.

"You guys forgot to keep the windows open. It was like a fucking Bunsen burner in here." Myron murmured. Marcus let out a booming laugh.

"Of course. You humans and weakness to heat." He snickered, turning back just as the car's engine sputtered on. "I'm surprised Kat was bothered that much by it though…"

"Ah, da metal beast finally woke up. Gewd gewd." Sulik mumbled, pulling out of park and into drive, and then hitting the pedal.

The mutant reached down to the floorboard and pulled up the Chosen One's shorts. A small syringe tumbled out of it and onto his lap as he reached back to give them to Myron. He made a curious noise and examined the item.

"Myron… You know what this is?" Marcus asked, holding up the object.

"Uh, N-nothing! Just a spare syringe; must've fallen out of the H-highwayman's glove box! Better uh, stash it s-so it doesn't lose sterility."

Marcus merely grunted, placing the syringe into the near empty glove box.

Myron sighed, and went back to brushing his fingers through the Chosen One's hair. God help him if she ever found out about that little stunt he pulled.

"…Just a spare syringe…" He repeated under his breath.