#gob x lone

[danses-with-dogmeat]

G is for -- Gob

My sweet, sweet Gob 🥺

There's a reason his is so long 😅 I could write for this lovely guy forever <3

I hope y'all enjoy this one!

And here is the 2k event masterlist, for your browsing pleasure!

Also, just a little TW for brief mentions of abuse.

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Pair: Gob x g/n! Lone

Dialogue: "I don't care if someone sees."

Word: Gush

Rating: SFW - but suggestive in some areas 😅

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

“Get over yourself,” Lone scoffed good-naturedly at the bartender across the counter. “Gob here can make a proper drink out of anything, you really– you wouldn’t believe it, I’m telling you.”

“Let’s not insult the man passing out the drinks, eh?” Gob said gently, leaning towards them so as not to allow his words to reach the man across the way.

“I’m not insulting him.” 

Gob seemed to pale at that.�� That, and the loudness of their voice.

“No, but he was bragging a bit, and I’m sure his drink that he made from– what was it? Mirelurk egg yolk? Yeah. I’m sure it’s wonderful, but honestly, Gob, I’ve never had anything compare to that radscorpion venom and mutfruit thing you used to make for me back at Moriarty’s.” 

The poor ghoul smiled so nervously, like it pained him to do so, and Lone felt a pang of regret hit them. 

He hates when I do this…

“No, I’m sure yours is fantastic," they turned back to the bartender, "It’s gotta be, with how used to mirelurk you all must be here on the boat, I’m sure you know what best goes into it and everything, but um… Thank you. For the drinks, they'll be absolutely wonderful, I'm positive. Anyway, have a good night.” 

The blue-eyed brunette across the counter just quirked one brow at the unseemly pair, flashing a small grin as they slid off the stools, drinks in hand as they headed towards one of the small, round tables towards the edge of the restaurant in the middle of the Rivet City marketplace. 

“I’m sorry, Gob. I don’t mean to embarrass you, but…” 

“No, Lone, it’s really alright. Just… not used to all this, is all.” 

“I know.” Their voice was small, their drink neglected, as they only continued swishing it distractedly in their hand. “I wish you were though. I like bragging about you.”

Gob snorted, the sound all the more obvious with his meager nose. 

What’s there to brag about?

He didn’t need to say a word of the negative thoughts spiraling through his head. Lone could see them as plainly on his face as if he’d written them there in red ink. 

A firm clink sounded as they dropped their glass to the table forcefully, and Gob flinched. His grey eyes were cast downwards to the wooden floorboards, his fingers moving restlessly against each other where his hands were clasped together on the table. 

“Sorry.” Lone offered quickly, at his reaction. “But dammit Gob, do you think I would lie to you?”

“W-what?” 

“Do you not trust me?” 

“No, Lone, I trust you with my life, you know that, that’s not the ah… well…” 

“No, but it is, baby.” Gob’s eyes snapped to the contact as Lone’s fingers wound themselves to clasp with his on the tabletop. “You have to believe that I’m telling the truth, that I’m being genuine when I compliment you or brag about you, that I’m not just saying it to make you feel better, or anything. I mean, if you do, that’s a nice benefit, but when I gush about you, I do it because that’s really how I feel.” 

He didn’t even open his mouth to try and respond, just kept his gaze low beneath his furrowed brow. Lone almost spoke up again, until they felt his fingers move over their hand, the textured digits stroking lightly over their knuckles as the thoughts churned in his head. 

They stayed silent, then, and let him think, let him soak in the words they’d spoken, and if they were lucky, let him start to believe them. 

The restaurant slowly grew more busy, as the pair sat there in silence, Lone sipping their drink with one hand, as the other stayed clasped with Gob’s. Low voices began to toil and resonate within the metal walls of the ship as it came to life in the post-work evening. 

“I wish that I did…” Gob finally said, so low, Lone almost thought they’d imagined it. “Believe you, I mean… I wish it were easier, but, the way everyone else has treated me, the way Moriarty…” 

“I know.” They agreed sadly, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze. 

“E-even Nova, I know we seemed close, but… Still, in her face, I could see it. The… disgust.” 

Now Lone flinched, the admittance like the sharp sting of a bloatfly. 

“Some people just don’t know what to say, when they see others who are different, but that doesn’t mean you’re worth any less. That you’re any less of a person. I hope you know that.” 

Gob hummed uncertainly. 

“You seem to be the only one who thinks that way. There’s a reason people call us ghouls, you know?” 

“Well then,” Lone stood up, unclasping their hand from his so they could grab the chair they’d been sitting in across from him, and move it to sit directly beside Gob’s. “I guess I don’t really care what anyone else thinks. Because you’re a person, and even more incredible? You’re a good one. Even after all the shit ‘proper people’ have put you through, you’re still a sweetheart.” 

That forced a smile to his ruined lips, and Gob found himself leaning his head into his partner as they wrapped their arms around him in an all-encompassing sideways hug. 

“Lone…” He said their name with a chuckle, inspiring a delightful smile to pull at their mouth as well, just as they released him from their grasp, ever so slightly, to look into his glinting stormy, ocean eyes. “You sure you’re not an angel or somethin’? Cuz I can hardly believe you’re even real.” 

They blushed so sweetly at that, it made Gob’s stomach flutter. 

“Oh, I’m real, alright. You want me to prove it to ya?” 

Their eyes glittered with a genial sort of mischief, and the pittering in his stomach swelled to a startling jolt, as he felt his own face heat at the way his partner began to lean towards him, the way they looked at him, like he was something to be savored. 

How strange it felt, to be looked at that way… But how wondrous was the feeling that came with it. To be, not only tolerated visually, but wanted, desired, worth savoring. 

Gob felt as though he must be unconscious, to have someone look at him in such a way. It wasn’t– couldn’t be real life. It had to be a vision, a dream. Maybe Moriarty had hit him hard enough this time, maybe he was out for good. 

No matter what it was, he could only hope he lived in this dream forever. 

Without thinking, Gob found himself nodding to Lone’s question with wide eyes.

They grinned, satisfied, and leaned into him. 

The pair had kissed before, sure, and they’d done more than kissing, much to his surprise, and his delight– as nervous as he’d been for it all, but still… Nothing could quite quiet his mind and fill him to the brim with affection and elation like Lone’s sweet kisses. 

He could taste the slight bite of their alcoholic drink on their lips, could revel in the softness of their skin. So close to them, he could smell their familiar scent, the cornflower soap they used and the earthy clay from their boots. He could feel their warmth through their vault suit, where he hadn’t even realized he’d allowed his hands to roam. 

Gob was usually so reserved with his affections, so unsure, even after all this time, that Lone would want him touching their body, but after all they’d said and made clear to him this evening… They were right, he had to believe them. That they wanted this as much as he did, that they found him desirable, that they felt he was worth complimenting, worth bragging about– the way he felt about them. 

There wasn’t a day that’d gone by since he met the vault-dweller that he didn’t talk about them to someone. That he didn’t gush and amateurly wax poetic about their goodness, their kindness, their face, their eyes, their everything that he adored about them, even when they were still but a pleasant stranger. 

And he adored everything. 

Soon enough, the ghoul was completely absorbed in their contact. His hands respectfully wandered, tracing his partner’s soft skin, the seams of their suit; he tilted his head, deepening their kiss with a groan he simply couldn’t hold back, his face heating at the way Lone took that as an invitation to slip their tongue in to brush with his. 

They scooted forward, nearly until they were off their chair, using their hold around his shoulders to brace themselves as they melded their lips with his over and again, pausing only to pull in shallow breaths between the undulating contact. 

Gob wished he could tune everything out forevermore. That it could only be them two, where they both could feel more than adequate in this harsh world. Where he could feel deserving of the love his partner poured into him, where Gob could be beside them without garnering whispered insults and judgemental looks. 

Where they could simply be. 

But that wasn’t possible, he realized again, for the thousandth time, as he heard a dull comment about public indecency from not too far beside him. Then another, from a table behind the pair, about how much, they wondered, was the ghoul paying his partner to be with him, to do this with him. And in public, too. What will the kids think, if they see this sort of contact between the likes of him and that nice, young man/woman? 

Lone pulled away, as they felt Gob failing to reciprocate. 

“Did I get too carried away?” They asked with a breathless chuckle. 

The way Gob’s chest ached at their obliviousness, at their honest question, must have been plain on his face, because the smile Lone wore was soon dashed from their lips. 

“What’s wrong?” 

He shook his head, but his eyes must’ve betrayed him, as the noisy couple behind them continued to make their rude comments. 

“Oh, fucking hell.” 

Lone almost stood up, but Gob’s hand on their arm stopped them. 

“‘S not worth it, Lone.” 

They still simmered in his hold, their eyes alight and their nostrils flared. 

“You know what?” They said, their voice needlessly loud– he can only assume so that it reached the mannerless folks in question.

Gob barely had time to prepare himself, as Lone’s hands tangled in his shirt collar, and they hauled him into another kiss. This one was firm, powerful, as they pressed into him and resumed the ebb and flow of tender touching they’d both been absorbed in only a few moments ago. 

“Lone–” He tried to say through the kiss, his hands gently urging them back so he could speak properly. 

“No.” They said, as they relented, keeping their hands on his shoulders as their expression pleaded with him. 

“Gob, I don’t care if someone sees. If someone sees and doesn’t like. That’s not our problem, it’s theirs.” 

Their searing look was turned pointedly at the couple near to them, before it darted back to him, instantly softening as it set upon his face. 

Despite himself, Gob felt those tingles rise up in his gut again. 

“I love you, Gob, and if I wanna kiss you in public, everyone else can just deal with it, okay?” 

A grin broke out over his face, and Gob felt his hands tighten unwittingly where they rested on his partner’s waist. 

“Okay…” He nodded to them, before leaning in once again, and pressing his lips to theirs. 

This time was a bit more chaste, but only because he felt the overwhelming need to pull away, just for a moment, just to whisper, “And… I love you too, Lone.” 

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

i wana fuck gob

So, the best AND simultaneously worst thing about coming up with headcanons and fics for characters from Fallout 3 is that there's often so little to the characters, canonically. Most of them have pretty scant backstories and characterization. That can be both an opportunity to mold a character to what you'd like them to be and a way to end up with a very contested character no one agrees on anything about.

Don't get me wrong; I like Fallout 3 quite a bit, but in the same way I like Fallout 4, which is "wow this game has some really loveable/memorable/fuckable characters and you can make your own fun, which I don't mind". However, Fallout 4's characters overall have stronger characterization, in my opinion, so it seems like the fan base has a fairly generalized sense of what each character is like. That doesn't seem to be the case with 3, at least sometimes.

***All that to say: if I make any claims about characters you like from Fallout 3 that you disagree with, 1. sorry, and 2. I would love to discuss.

Gob (Fallout 3) NSFW Headcanons

Boundary communication would be HUGE with Gob, but especially for Gob. For decades, he hasn't been allowed to stand up for himself, to even have boundaries, so a long, long chat about consent would be due before the two of you ever did anything. You'll have to make it clear to him that if he doesn't like something, you don't want to do it, so he needs to say something, and that you won't be mad at him for not enjoying something.

This man is SO quiet during sex that it's initially quite unsettling to you. Even when he cums, he's completely silent. He's so used to having to be ridiculously quiet all the time (or else), but especially at a time like this. You may feel the need to take a step or two back in terms of your intimacy until he feels more able to relax, because it would be difficult for you to gauge whether he was enjoying something or not with full confidence. At least, not without constantly having to ask him, which can be a bit of a mood killer if you're not sure the person you're doing things with is enjoying themselves or just going along with it for your sake. No one wants to feel like they're imposing themselves on their partner, and Gob is, as a result of what he's been though, absolutely the type to just lie there and let you have what you want so he doesn't upset you. He insists that he's enjoying himself, that he likes the way you touch him, but you'll have to explain that you need some sort of feedback when you're touching him to ensure you're not hurting him or crossing some boundary. Once he relaxes, he can be quite vocal, but still quiet; mostly hums and sighs.

I think he also struggles to maintain eye contact with literally anyone, and this doesn't improve when he's nervous or being sexually stimulated. He already feels so exposed with you touching him, even if he's still mostly or fully clothed, that eye contact feels like too much a lot of the time. Once you two have been together a while and you've been physical a few times, he may be able to relax enough to look at you when you ask him to (he gets the cutest look on his face when he cums), but his gaze will continue to wander otherwise.

I think you'd be wise to keep things fairly formulaic early on with Gob. Whatever the two of you enjoy, find your rhythm and stay with it for a while; no need to start experimenting or introducing the poor thing to a bunch of new kinks and positions and things he's never experienced while he's over here still trying to relax enough to let you jerk him off without him crying afterwards.

Would agree to try mommy kink stuff with you and then be beyond embarrassed by how much he likes it. Absolutely loves to be babied and treated softly while you take care of him.

Once he's really comfortable with you, and once he's begun to really feel like he has autonomy and safety in his life, he shyly starts to make requests, wants to try things that he's thought about doing with you since the moment he laid eyes on you. Of course, he's nervous, but he's gotten good at communicating his wants and needs at this point. He wants to fuck you on the bar when the place is closed. He wants to cum on your face. He wants you to peg him. He REALLY wants you to peg him.

Lots of early morning sex. He likes to lay in bed and cuddle for a little while before he gets up to open the bar, and, more often than not, that leads to him feeling all warm and appreciative of you, which usually leads to him pulling you on top of him so you can guide his cock inside you, grinding and rolling your hips lazily until you both cum.

Tit man. Not good at hiding the fact that he's oogling your chest from the minute you meet, sort of like a teenage boy, but once he's comfortable with you and it's been established that he's attracted to you, he doesn't really try to hide it.

[ghoul-foolery]

Kinktober, Day 8

Handjob/Fingering / Sickness

Prompt List - Kink/Flufftober Master List

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> Handjob > Lone Wanderer x Gob >Tags: MDNI > Words: 107

Note: A barely-there drabble that's a whole nonsensical paragraph long.

//

It’s one of the very few things that Gob can have that Moriarty won’t be able to break or take away. It’s a moment in time. A little bit of kindness. A little bit of care. It’s the metallic jingling of a belt buckle in the dead of night. It’s the pop of a button, and a pull of a zipper. It’s the saliva-slick palm as it delves between material and destroyed flesh. It’s the moment where he leans in close, his hand propped up against the wall, as his entire body shudders and his head drops forward into the crisp blue material of the vault suit. 

[pyrettawychwiggin]

'Gobsmacked/Moriarty Must Die'

Because ghouls need love too, dammit.

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- Pairing: Maria Röntgen (Lone Wanderer) & Gob

- Rating: Teen/Young Adult/SFW

'Maria's about to something she can't take back. Before she disappears from Megaton forever, she has time for only a single farewell.'

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Note from the author: this is just a quick snippet of a casual fanfiction project I've been chipping away at since I've started playing through Fallout 3 again! The full version may or may not eventually see the light of day, but I figured I'd put it here in case anyone wants to read it! ~ Py

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A few quick notes:

• the name of the Lone Wanderer in this fanfiction is Maria Röntgen.

• Maria arrived in Megaton the same day she left Vault 101; she's been there for about three weeks, and has since gained a fair amount of goodwill from the people there - even having managed to disarm the bomb.

• Maria had become quite close with a few of the settlers there, but especially with Gob and Nova. She and Nova have had a flirtatious fling ever since she'd arrived, and Maria has been very close to Gob as well, though nothing has happened between them as of yet.

• Maria has never killed someone in cold blood before - but after seeing the amount of damage Moriarty has done, she's made a decision; taking him out will be the last thing she does before she disappears.

• This whole story won't be entirely about Gob and Maria - in fact, there are a few characters she ends up involved with, but Gob very well may be the first.

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Our story begins...

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The inky skies were dark over Megaton, and only the sounds of deep metal groans and aching creaks could be heard in the air. Even the radroaches seemed still and unmoving as an unspoken tension rose into the air.

Gob sighed and hummed an old tune under his breath as he wiped down the counter of the bar for the twenty-third time. Moriarty's Saloon was empty and silent as the grave - the few patrons they had were already tucked away in their beds. He enjoyed the peace on nights like this - no one to torment him, no Moriarty to berate him merely for existing in his presence. He couldn't help but think how life would be much nicer if it could just be like this all the time...

To his surprise, the front door swung open and in walked Maria. She seemed to be moving with a purpose, her head on a swivel as she took a seat right up at the bar.

"Oh, it's you, Maria," Gob let out a breath of relief. "Thought you were someone else for a second. You here for a nightcap?"

"Afraid not, Gob." Her eyes moved behind his shoulder to make sure no one was lingering behind him. "I have to tell you something, but we can't be overheard. Is it safe?"

"Uh, yeah. Everyone's out for night. Even Moriarty's out cold." Gob flung his cloth over his shoulder and leaned forward. "What's going on? Never seen you so strung out."

"I'll have to keep this short and sweet, Gob." Maria pressed her palm over the back of the ghoul's hand, gaining his complete, undivided attention. "I'm leaving Megaton. Tonight. After I take care of some... unfinished business."

"You're leaving?" Gob frowned. "Why? Where're you going?"

"I have to find my father, Gob. And besides," she paused, taking a breath before she continued. "Folks probably won't want me around after tonight."

Gob didn't know what to say - with so many questions in his head, he couldn't decide on which ones to start with. Before he could ask anything, Maria continued.

"Listen, Gob. I can't tell you exactly what I'm about to do, but once it's done, you'll know it. Seeing as how you're likely the one to be the first to find out..." Maria pulled a chip from her inner pocket and placed it in the ghoul's hand. "I want you to take this."

"What is it?"

"It's a confession - for a crime. My confession," Maria frowned, looking up into his eyes. "I know how people get, and I don't want anyone blaming you for what's about to happen, but I need you to promise me something."

"Anything, just name it," Gob whispered, leaning across the bar to listen closer.

"You must not listen to it until sunrise. I can't have you knowing any more than you already do - I didn't even want to involve you this much, but I don't have a choice." Maria squeezes his hand earnestly. "Can you promise me that?"

"But I have so many questions," Gob stuttered, unsure what to think.

"Promise me, Gob." Maria pleaded. "Please."

"Yeah," Gob sighs. "I promise."

Maria's shoulders relaxed as she bowed her head in relief. "Thank you."

"I..." Gob started. "... I don't want you to leave."

"Gob..."

"You're one of the only people around here that's nice to me." Gob shakes his head. "I like having you around."

"I like being around too, Gob. Believe me, leaving you here is one of the hardest parts of this whole situation." Maria places her hand gently on Gob's cheek, making his heart skip a beat. "But what I'm about to do is going to benefit not just you, but all of Megaton."

Gob places a hand on hers, pressing his cheek further against her touch. "I'm gonna miss ya, Smoothskin."

"I'll miss you too, barkeep." Maria leans forward and presses her forehead against his, closing her eyes. "Who knows. Maybe someday when this all blows over, I can come by again. But maybe not."

Gob and Maria stayed like this in silence for a minute before Maria sighed. "It's time, Gob. This is where I leave you." To his surprise, Maria places a soft, lingering kiss on his forehead before pulling away for the last time. "Remember. Not until sunrise."

Gob nods sadly, tucking the chip away in his pocket. He kept his head down, gaze to his feet as he listened to Maria's footsteps start to retreat. He quickly looked up as he heard her rushing towards him. Flinging her arms around his neck, she crashed her lips to his.

He couldn't recall the last time he'd been kissed - and it certainly hadn't been like this. When he managed to shake himself out of his shocked stupor, he snaked his arms around Maria's waist, returning her kiss. His heart thundered against his chest, feeling her pressed up against him, knowing this would probably be the first and last time he'd feel her lips on his.

All too quickly, she draws back, hands lingering on his face for just a moment longer; then just as quickly as she'd come, she rushes out the door and into the night, leaving Gob behind the bar, hardly believing what had just happened.

~ To be continued (maybe)

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If y'all enjoyed this, let me know if it's something you'd like to read more of in the future.

~ Pyretta Wychwiggin

[transparentkinks]

How the contract became void

another Lone x Charon fic I know they're not popular but i'm obsessed with this man. I want him to hug me so bad. I think aside from Lily Charon probably gives the best hugs in all of fallout.

Falling for her was wrong, he knew it. No matter how she treated him she was his mistress. He just couldn’t help how he felt though. It was like a weight he carried with him wherever she led them. 

He’d stop if he could, but he was bound by contract to follow her. What she did scared the fuck out of him most times, much to his concern. He was never scared. He could list all the occasions he was actually scared for a master on one hand, and all of them were her. He’s never worried for the safety of a master as much as her, nor longed to actually make them happy. She honestly didn’t have to say a word, he jumped at any chance he saw to make things better for her. He felt foolish for it, he probably disgusted her, but the things she does, the way she does them, the way she treats him. He didn’t realize it till she almost died, but her getting hurt, putting herself in danger, it terrified him. 

Because loath as he was to admit it, he would miss her. A lot. He wasn’t sure he could really go on without her. He couldn’t go back to how he lived before her. He felt like he could die when he wasn’t sure she’d wake up. The only order she ever gave him was to run for his life, but if she asked he’d set the world on fire for her. 

It didn’t help that she was fucking beautiful. He felt disgusting for it, but he couldn’t help fantasizing about her. She haunted his dreams, that pretty face and tight blue suit. In his dreams she’d come to him late at night and use him like previous masters would try to, and for once he loved it. He’d wake up in the morning hard as a rock wishing just for a moment that she was a wretched enough person to use him, and all day he’d think of the dream’s memory of her skin on his. But she was so damn kind, to him and everyone they met, but especially to him. He thinks she sees him as a friend, and he appreciates it more than she could know. 

Lately they’ve been staying in Megaton, and while people weren't exactly courteous to him, she insisted that people treat him with, as she put it, “basic respect,” something he watched her demand for Gob as well the few times they’d visited the saloon.

He hoped she cared for him genuinely, even just as a friend. Ever since she’s made her recovery he couldn’t stop thinking about the times she offered to give him his contract, or threatened to tear it up. He wondered if she’d let him stay, if she’d let him not be her slave or her employee or whatever she called it but her partner, working together on whatever she thought was important. He worried that if he told her she didn't own him anymore, then she’d leave him. She’d said it before, that she hoped he’d be able to go off on his own one day, but he dreaded that thought. He wants to do things for once, and all of them are with her. 

Ever since she gave him the only order she’d ever given him, he’s known he can’t, won’t, follow an order like that again. He will not leave her in danger ever again. If he has things his way, he won’t leave her period. Ever since the day he turned up in the underworld, having finally carried out the first order she’d ever given him and wondering why the hell he listened to her he’s felt a remarkable sense of self-determination. He didn’t feel like he was a passive observer in his life anymore. He felt a need, a desire to act like he couldn’t remember.

For once he wanted, and when he took action to get what he wanted he was able to take it. It was incredible. He was doing the most mundane things, but it was blissful. Lone always asked him what he was thinking, asked for input in the decisions she made. She asked him if he’d mind doing things for her, never a request. He’s been testing the waters, asking her for things, and she seemed almost delighted to do whatever he asked. She’d talk to him endlessly about everything and nothing, and yet the second he tried to say something she’d get as quiet as a mouse, listening intently to anything he had to say. 

She made him feel normal. Made him feel respectable, like a person and not an object or tool. Sometimes, she was even affectionate with him and it made him feel alive. She’d touch his face after fights sometimes, so softly, so light, making sure he was okay to move on. The first time she did it he nearly cried, he was expecting a slap when she raised her hand since she managed to take down most of their opponents and he managed to get shot, but instead she touched him so gently. Looked him in the eye and asked him if he was okay. Recently she’s been hugging him, asking him occasionally for a hug, and it was nearly a religious experience. He found himself hoping every night would be a night where she felt the desire for a hug.

Still, he couldn’t dream of telling her how he felt, or asking for the affection she gave freely. She was kind, profoundly and loudly accepting of ghouls, but he didn’t know if she would keep that attitude if he laid his ugly heart at her feet. Plus, she was still in the aftershocks of everything that happened. Since the purifier he could tell, she was just going through the motions. It was driving him nuts, but he had no clue what to say. She just seemed ready to fade away. Her actions in the wastes were even more suicidal than normal and when she woke up he was more concerned that she nearly died than she was. She’s been listening to his complaints though. She listened when he yelled at her to rest when she woke up from her coma, she listened when he said she needed to spend some time at her home in Megaton, and she listened when he told her a beer doesn't count as dinner. He figured since they live together he’d just keep an eye on her, but he just got more worried the more he watched.

At least she listened.

He just prayed she wouldn’t do anything risky.

---------------------------

She was gonna kill him, the smarmy asshole. She was still reeling at how different the surface was, but owning people? Abusing them even though they were doing what you told them to? She expected things to be different on the surface. Honestly she was surprised that everyone up here doesn't all look like Gob or Fawkes with how intense the radiation was. Some days walking through the wasteland made her wonder how long she had left with her smooth skin. She knew things would be different, but she didn’t expect this cruelty. She’d read about this in books, but it was supposed to be ancient. It was supposed to be dead long before the old world even considered the war. Still, somehow, practically the whole town acted like it was normal. What was wrong with these people? 

There’s no reason someone should be so confused by being treated with basic respect. Her first visit left her shaken, and she hasn’t spent a cap at the place since. She wasn’t always fond of stealing, but in regards to the information she needed she didn’t mind going behind his back. Unfortunately it seemed essential to visit on occasion to conduct business. Every visit made her skin crawl. Nova acted weird, angry and also resigned and good at acting friendly even when she had this dead look in her eyes. Gob was basically a shell of a living being, pouring drinks and waiting to get yelled at or hit. She avoided the place like the plague. Honestly at first she tried to avoid the city too.

Over the next few months, she slowly made progress at hunting down her dad and learning how to survive the wastes. Enough to lose her dad in the process and nearly kill herself for some fresh water. She liked to believe she helped, she disarmed the bomb in megaton, found three dog and helped keep him on the air, took out the Enclave base and helped the brotherhood of steel, helped that kid in grayditch and helped the water flow, but she still wasn’t sure how she could help Gob and Nova. It drove her crazy every time she went back to Megaton. Even getting the house for free didn’t make the city more appealing to her. It did give her a slight respect for the children of atom though, apparently the only people in town aside from his peer in bondage to treat Gob like a person. She was setting up a decent base at grayditch, but she, and since she’d bought his contract, Charon, can't deny the appeal of running water. 

“Can I head down to the bar?” Charon asked her, stepping out of the house. She was sitting outside of her house, mulling over her goals and general problems in life over a rum and nuka she poured herself. 

“You’re on break Charon, you can go wherever, no need to ask.” She replied. She mentally patted herself on the back for the conversation. He was feeling more comfortable actually doing stuff on the breaks she insisted he get instead of sitting in a corner doing gun maintenance. Plus, he felt comfortable asking her for stuff. She was beginning to worry that he’d never warm up to her, but this last two months he’s been getting much more expressive. It was a rather drastic change, but she wasn’t complaining. In fact it made her unreasonably happy. She felt like she was getting a chance to get to know Charon all over again and she was loving every moment of it. It didn’t help her with keeping her composure around him though. 

“I’ll need you to buy for me” He said. 

“Why? I pay you.” She answered with a furrowed brow. 

“You can use the money you paid me, but they won’t sell to a ghoul” He clarified, taking a chair next to her’s. She groaned. 

“That’s some bullshit, the person selling is a ghoul” She whined, looking up at the sky as if that would make this weird world make sense. 

“That’s how it works” He grunted out. 

“If you just wanna drink I can mix you something.” She moved to get up, but Charon stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder. 

“No, don’t bother” He spoke, looking down over the town silently by her side. 

“So, why do you wanna go?” She hazarded a question. He took a few moments to speak up. 

“Been a while since I've been a customer.” He spoke quick and gruff. Lone gazed across the city to the lights of Moriarty’s bar. Fucking bastard just had to run a bar. She could tolerate a night there for Charon though.

“Lemme get my stuff” She got up, and this time Charon didn’t stop her. She wasn’t sure what this meant to Charon, if it was important to him or not, but if he was asking her for something, especially something so reasonable, she wasn’t about to be telling him no. 

The walk to the bar was quiet, broken only by asking him what he wanted before they entered. 

“Two beers, we can drink together.” Was his answer. 

“You want to drink with me?” She teased with a grin. He just grunted and looked away, handing her the caps. It was pretty uneventful buying the beers, receiving her normal hello’s and Gob seemed happy to see her as normal, though he never really said much. It seemed like Moriarty was somewhere in the back and Nova seemed to be laughing genuinely with the girl with family up in Arefu. Charon was silent, but content company. He seemed relaxed, like he would get when back in her house, himself sat in front of a pile of guns to work on with some beers. When he’d let her talk his ear off without so much as an annoyed grunt. 

Tonight, He seemed content to listen to her pull Nova and her friend into conversation and sip at his drink. Even though he was being silent, she couldn’t help glancing at him when she could. 

She knew a lot of people would look at her weird if she talked about it, and she knew that it was super fucked up, but she found herself quiet smitten with him. He was quite handsome in his own way, something that many people would look at her sideways for but he was, and she loved spending time with him. He had a weirdly dry sense of humor that she appreciated, he didn’t seem annoyed by her ramblings, and he was really fascinating whenever he diverged information from his crazy long life.

She didn’t feel so alone or alien to the wasteland when he was with her. He had this way of quietly understanding her. He seemed to pick up when she was upset, he had this way of pulling her back when she was seeing red. When she talked she knew he listened, and he gave short but surprisingly good advice. 

She found she trusted his judgment. She knows he’s gone through and done a lot, but deep down, she thinks he’s a good person. He wanted to do good by others, at least she knew he wanted to do good by her. She hoped so at least, sometimes it seemed like he minded her health more than she did. 

He would get her food and drinks without her asking. He’d set up camp and secure it if he could, only letting her help if she asked and wasn’t injured. She couldn’t step outside without him warning her about anything and everything that could be a threat. His reads on people were surprisingly accurate. If Charon didn’t like someone,eventually she’d usually either find out something horrible about them or they’d try and kill her.

She wasn’t naive enough not to notice people started treating her differently when she started traveling with him. He was a formidable presence, he knew what he was doing. For the longest time she’s been relying on being likeable and strong enough to defend herself, but most people didn’t really believe she could defend herself till they were already dead at her feet. Charon looked like he could kill a person, and it was surprisingly useful at avoiding conflicts. Not that Charon couldn’t handle himself in a fight. His style was brutal, and she loved watching him fight. 

He was so tall, and really, really strong. More than he had any reasonable right to be. He made her feel safe, something she also felt a bit guilty about. She apparently owned him to protect her, so says the contract, so he was certainly good at his job. Of course he was going to be protective of her, yelling at her to get behind him and taking care of her wounds. It didn’t stop the butterflies when he would pull her back into him during combat or check her over after a fight. 

She unfortunately was rather smitten, and she didn’t think those feelings would be changing any time soon. The way she caught herself just staring at him, she was hopeless. She’d heard people say awful things about him, but she liked looking at him. She really liked looking at him. 

She felt awful about it. I mean, she owned the man and she was lusting over him? She didn’t exactly have a lot of experience, the vault being what it was, but that didn’t stop her mind from wandering. 

She’d seen him without his shirt on, she couldn’t help but wonder how nice it would feel if he let her touch him, if he let her sit in his lap, how nice it would feel if he would hold her. She wondered what it would feel like if he let her explore his body. If he’d let her lay on his chest, what it would be like to hear his heartbeat, what his hands on her would feel like. If he’d be patient with her in her inexperience, if he’d be rough with her like Nova would talk about. She wondered what affection from him would look like. She found herself daydreaming of it often.

Especially right now, him slouched in the corner of the bar. He was lazily sipping at his drink, he seemed almost happy. She wondered what him smiling at her would look like, feel like. And those arms, she could see them flexing when he lifted his drink. What it would be like to feel those muscles, she wondered if Charon would ever let her touch him like that. Between her daydreams and idle banter with some of the coolest people in Megaton, she was just beginning to feel like she might have a nice time at Moriarty’s for once, when-

Crash

“Fuck” Gob dropped down behind the counter.

Nova ran to behind the counter. Lone stood to look at what was happening when Charon stood with her and grabbed her shoulder. Nova was dropping glass shards in the wastebasket, Gob scooping up the glass where he could and mopping at the liquor with a rag. 

“What the fuck was that?” Moriarty leaned down over the railing, making his way down the stairs. 

“I just accidentally knocked over a bottle of whisky, I'm getting it cleaned-” Nova tried to explain to him. 

“Bullshit.” Moriarty spat. “I heard Gob first!” He stormed over to Gob and pulled him up by the shirt collar. 

“I’m sorry sir, I’ll-” Gob's hands were up to protect himself, and indeed he needed it. Lone knew Moriarty was fucked, but the way he just started beating Gob was brutal. If Charon hadn’t started leading her out of there, she wasn’t sure what she would have done to the bastard. The second she tried to step forward he was already hauling her back, and she had little ability to stop him considering him hauling her out of there looked something akin to a person dragging a doll behind them. 

The walk home was silent. Her mind was reeling. She was crying, quietly as she could. Charon didn’t say a word, just walked her home and went through his nightly routine like nothing happened. She just sat on her couch, thinking and frowning and wringing her hands, trying to calm down. She couldn’t avoid it anymore. Megaton might actually be a nice city without that asshole. Doing nothing, just living with it, going there, bringing her business, avoiding it, all felt like she was being complicit with what Moriarty was doing. 

But who was she to consider this? She may as well be as bad as Moriarty. She was complicit. There she was lusting over her fucking slave in a fucking black market dealer and slave owner’s saloon. She owned Charon, just like Moriarty owned Nova and Gob. It was sick, made her feel disgusted with herself. It was a heavy feeling. 

But she couldn’t just let Charon go, he’d walk off and find someone else to own him at best and maybe? Kill her at worst. She hoped he wasn’t in a mood to kill her once he’s free. She hoped the day would come when he’d tell her he'd like his contract and he’d let her know him as the person he would make of himself. Maybe it was wishful thinking, and she’d die before he could take it back. Maybe he’d like to never see her again, I mean she owned him. She wouldn’t blame him if he truly saw her as just the same as Moriarty. 

But it didn’t matter what anyone thought of her. These people were okay with this, she had to do something. There had to be a way to get rid of Moriarty. The world would be a better place without bastards like Moriarty in it. He’d lived so long without anyone hitting back at him. He deserved any shit she could throw at him, and she could do something about him. Maybe she can’t hunt down and kill Charon’s problems, but she could definitely kill Gob and Nova’s. Not all of them sure, but definitely one.

The fridge slammed shut, Charon drinking down a cold nuka-cola. She felt guilty oogling him in his state of undress, just a tank and old beat up canvas pants. Any shirt he wore was tight around the chest and shoulders. She knew from experience just how strong that man was, and it made her feel weird, and that made her feel gross, so she pointedly stared at the glass, the perspiration from the cold dripping down the bottle. Nuka-cola in the bloodstream would be lethal, less than a shot. Needle marks are easy to hide, not like people would be checking his filthy ass. 

“You goin to bed soon?” Charon grunted out. 

“Yeah-” She glanced away. She had plenty of empty needles in her medkit. She could pick a lock, not get caught. “I’ll be up in a bit.” 

“Mmhm” He made his way, shuffling up the stairs. The lights up there went out. She knew Charon would be out soon. She made her preparations. The door squeaked on the way out, but no one was about when she stepped out into the dusty night air. 

Her walk there was casual. She had no bag on her, just her jacket and a gun tucked in her waistband. When she got there the bar was closed. The lock was a simple pick, the door rather quiet. It was dark inside, no one lingering down in the parlor. Her steps up the stairs were light, his door a slightly harder pick than the front door, egotistic asshole. 

He was dead asleep when she got in there. She closed the door behind her, slipping quietly up to his bed. He slept without his jacket, and she wasn’t all that surprised to see track marks. Makes her job even easier. She injected him with two syringes of med-x, to make sure he wouldn’t be able to wake up screaming from the various unspecified chemicals sugar and carbonation about to make their way to his heart. Then she injected him with two syringes of the main event, just to make sure. She smiled when she felt his pulse start to skyrocket. She felt his muscles slack, and she slipped out of the room. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she made her way down the stairs and out of the building. She locked the door behind her, and felt a rush of adrenaline wash over her as she walked home. Running would be suspicious, so she walked, shaking, the whole way home. 

The house was dark and quiet when she got back, the low creak of the hinges cutting through the silence. She threw off her jacket with a sigh, about to sit on her couch when she heard the door squeak open again. 

Whipping around, she saw Charon’s hulking figure in the doorway. He was tense, pushing the door closed with a thud of finality. 

“Hi, there- Charon. What-”

“What were you doing out?” He questioned. 

“I was just- going for a walk.” She mumbled. “Clear the head-” 

“So you had to break into Moriarty’s to clear your head?” He interrogated. 

“You saw that?” She giggled nervously. 

“What did you do?” He was frowning. She sighed, gripping her pants. Could she even really admit it? Admit to murder? Charon’s helped her in a fight before, but did his views on that extend to killing a guy in a city? 

“I was-” She paused. “I couldn’t not do anything anymore.” She mumbled. Charon crossed his arms. 

“So?” He grunted. 

“So Moriarty is gonna be dead come tomorrow morning” She spoke quietly. Charon let out a chuff of a laugh. The look he was giving her was strange. 

“If you say so” He turned to the stairs. “Go to bed now” He spoke with a voice of finality. She just sighed and followed him up the stairs. 

She woke the next morning to the sounds of yelling outside. She rushed downstairs to see what was going on, where Charon was already sipping his coffee and looking out the front door’s window. 

“What’s going on?” She questioned. 

“Looks like you were right. Sheriff's calling some sort of meeting.” He nodded to the window. She walked over and looked through herself, and indeed it seemed a lot of people were gathering around the bomb. 

“Guess I should go show my face” She sighed, shuffling on her boots. “You don’t gotta come with if you don’t wanna” She sighed, opening the door with a low creak. 

“Where you go, I follow” He answered simply, following her out the door. Making their way down to the center of town, she could better make out words in the argument going on. 

“Who’s gonna run the place now?” 

“He was the one organizing shipments! How can we?”

“I’m not drinking outside next to the fucking bomb!”

“Now folks hold on!” Sheriff Simms yelled out. “We’re gonna go through his stuff to get our own connections, and Nova has assured me that she and Gob can keep the place running as long as we can get shipments sorted. Nothing is closing!” He assured the crowd. People got quieter, but it seemed everyone was talking to someone about what’s going on. 

“I’m not surprised he kicked the bucket, old fuck could never kick a bad habit” she picked up from somewhere nearby and felt her anxiety lighten. Then Simms locked eyes with her and it all came flooding back. 

“Lone!” He called with a smile. “Good to see you in town, we could use our local hero with all this drama.” He chucked. 

“You need me for something?” She questioned. She heard Charon grunt in annoyance behind her. 

“Yeah, you’re able to get across the wasteland pretty fast. Any connections we learn about I was hoping you could reach out to. Moira is helping where she can but we don’t quite know where he got all the bulk liquor. Could help right this mess real quick” He spoke cheerily, though she could hear the slight pleading tone. 

“I can do that, just let me know, okay?” She grinned back. 

“Thanks Lone, it's appreciated” He patted her on the shoulder before moving on to chat with other Megaton locals. She briefly considered heading up to craterside supply, but she caught Cromwell’s eye and figured heading home was safer than getting pulled into a conversation with him trying to get her to convert again. 

“Wanna head out?” She looked back up at Charon. He just grunted, which she supposed worked as agreement. She sighed as she entered the house, slouching tiredly down into a chair with the finality of the closing door. 

“Thank fuck no one-”

“Why’d you do it?” He cut her off, leaning against the wall between the front door and the stairs. She glanced away, feeling rather awkward. 

“I don’t know” She sighed. “I Just couldn’t watch that shit anymore. This town is better off without him.” 

“Mhmn” Charon stepped in front of her, leaned down to place a hand on the armrest. He seemed to be sizing her up. “You risked your life to help Nova and Gob.” 

“It was mostly because I was sick of seeing his ugly mug,” She spat. Charon just laughed at that. That turned her attention back to his face.

“So seeing what he did, that made you angry?” He probed. 

“Yeah,” Lone replied. 

“Good.” Charon sat down next to her. She looked at him, a cautious grin on her face. 

“Good?” She echoed. 

“Yeah, Good.” He smiled at her, he actually smiled at her and she wasn’t sure her heart could take it. She was gripping her hands in front of her, trying not to jump up and hug him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Like what?” She felt a bit taken aback, moreso after having him smile at her. 

-------------------

The way she was looking at him, it was doing things to him. She had this starry eyed look, her face was blushing all pretty. She was shaking, and she wouldn’t take her eyes off him. “I don’t know,” It felt presumptuous to call it what it seemed like. “Like you’re excited.” 

“Sorry” She quickly glanced away from him. 

“It’s not bad” he clarified. “I just want to know why”. She paused for a few moments.

“He was a disgusting, horrible man. Everything he did- Gob didn’t deserve that. Gob and Nova never deserved any of that” She sighed out. He couldn’t help but think back to last night. He expected what happened to Gob. He’d seen, received, treatment like that and worse. Last night she saw that, and took it upon herself to risk her life and home in Megaton just to sneak into Moriaty’s room and try to kill him in some way that couldn't be tracked to her. There was no way this would benefit her, and the people she helped didn’t even know she did a thing. 

“No one will even know you did anything. Gob and Nova didn’t ask, they’ll never know what you risked for them”. How much planning did that take? Wait, why did she avoid telling him why she was looking at him like that by confessing to murder? She couldn’t even look at him now. Was she-

“That’s okay” She spoke. She spoke like it was nothing. He stood and her eyes immediately flicked to him. Her gaze was doing something to him he wasn’t proud of. He leaned over her, propping himself up on the arm of the couch. Her eyes were wide, and she was definitely looking at him now. She looked anxious, lovely as she looked. 

“I want my contract. Better yet, tear it up.” He stated. Just as he hoped, she grinned a million-watt grin and jumped up to hug him. The feeling was blissful. He felt pathetic, being so moved by such simple affection, but he couldn’t remember the last time anyone else actually hugged him, or touched him kindly. The feeling she gave him was addictive. 

“Omygosh Charon of course!” She cheered. She then seemed to register that she was hugging him and moved to let him go. “Sorry, I didn’t ask-”

He cut her off, choosing to prolong the hug. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up into his arms. She yelped as her feet left the ground, before giggling and wrapping her arms around him. 

“I'm so glad you’re ready for this Charon, Lemme-” She started to shimmy in his grip. 

“Don’t worry about it, it doesn't matter.” He spoke reassuringly, earning him another giggle. And it didn’t. She really has just been waiting for him to take him up on her offers, it wasn’t some sick taunt. She bought him, intending to set him free. Fuck, she was trying to buy his freedom the whole time. She paid thousands of caps for no reason other than to help the random ghoul who barely said two sentences to her and was rude the whole time.

Still, he leaned down and placed her on her feet. Despite his assurance the second she was on her own feet she was rushing us the stairs. It wasn’t long before he saw her nearly tumble down the stairs with contract in hand as she rushed back to him. She was giggling, just plain giddy with excitement. 

“Do you wanna do it or should I? Or do you wanna burn it?” She held up the contract to him, that stunning grin pointed at him. This past few months he’s been realizing just how much he craved seeing her happy now that her light seemed to be dampening, and he couldn’t remember her looking more happy or excited as long as he knew her. It was touching really, she was excited for him. He couldn’t help but smile back as he took the contract in hand.

Looking at it, it was hard to really sort out in his mind how this paper held so much power over him, or how it stopped. Then he looked at her. His master who wanted no part in owning him. His master who intended from before caps exchanged hands to buy his freedom. Who ordered him to prioritize his life over hers, the one thing ingrained in him not to do. 

“Let's burn it” He spoke with a grin. She nodded and grabbed her lighter from the counter. 

“Burn it in the sink?” She suggested. He answered with a nod and a grunt. She offered him the lighter and he took it gladly. He held the contract over the sink. The paper was rough and weathered, the writing barely legible. He lit the lighter with a flick, held it to the edge of the page. Watching it catch, the bright red of the burning ember creep up the paper as the ash fell into the sink, it was beyond cathartic. It was like he was finally finishing what started breaking in him the day she told him to run. He held it till the embers reached his fingers, relished the heat and small biting pain of it’s obliteration. He dropped what remained in the sink watching his contract burn completely to ash. Glancing to his right, he saw Lone leaning against the counter beaming at him. 

“So what do you wanna do now?” She questioned, leaning up onto her palms. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. He knew what she meant, he just dreaded the conversation. His blood was rushing like he was in battle. Was she going to kick him out? He guessed he couldn’t blame her, but he wouldn’t enjoy it. 

“You’re free, so what do you wanna do with your life?” She explained. “You can do anything you want. You don’t gotta listen to me or anyone.” He couldn’t suppress a frown at that. 

“I would-” He looked at her. “I’d like to stay with you, if I can.” He hoped she’d let him stay. “I can still work for you-”

“I honestly don’t want an employee.” She spoke, and his heart sunk. “But I’d love for you to stay Charon. However long you want to.” Looking at her, she seemed nervous. He wondered if she was afraid of him leaving. 

“I’d like to stay, but I should probably tell you something first before you decide to let me stay.” He warned. She looked at him expectantly. 

His heart sunk, suddenly he felt horribly guilty. She was too kind, she wasn’t responsible for him now. Thinking about it now, it was kind of awe-inspiring. This beautiful woman like some fucking guardian angel of the wasteland really took the time and effort and expense to buy his freedom and help him figure out how to be his own person while tackling her own shit. Looking back on it, it finally clicked. She’d been easing him into making decisions, providing input, self-direction. And he’d hated her for half of it. Who does that for someone who didn’t even want to talk to them the first time they met? 

She deserved to know that the man she was feeding and housing was lusting after her, she didn’t deserve to have to have that in her house. She deserved the chance to know and kick him out. He knew he could make it on his own, he had the skills. She’d already helped him so much, he owed her this. “I’ve,-” He could feel his heart in his throat. “I’ve fallen for you. And you don’t deserve to-”

“Oh Charon!” She cheered delightedly, rushing forward to hug him and effectively cut him off. He placed his hands on her shoulders hesitantly. 

“You’re okay with that?” He probed hopefully. 

“I felt so bad about it, I didn’t want to say anything. I mean I owned you but, I-” He could feel her hands balling in fists, gripping the back of his jacket. “I really like you Charon, I like talking with you and looking at you and spending time with you and I would honestly be sad if you left. And I definitely like you” She took a steadying breathe. “Like, ah- Like romantically.” She stuttered out as she pulled back, hands still on his shoulders. She was looking at the floor. 

“You’re-” He was utterly stunned. He’d never in a million years would have thought she would actually like him back. “You’re serious?” He could see her face was blushing furiously. 

“I am, and I’m glad you’ve fallen for me.” She kept a shy grin on her face, though her eyes wouldn’t meet his. He couldn’t believe it, I mean he was a ghoul, not even human and she likes him? She’s always beautiful, but she was practically an angel in that moment. Fuck, if she actually wanted him, he would worship her like one. Did anyone deserve to be this lucky? Did he? 

“Fuck Lone” Charon dropped low to his knees in front of her. At this, her eyes finally flicked to meet his. Her hands moved their way higher up his shoulders to where his shirt gave way to the skin of his neck, thumbs tracing his skin softly, and he reveled in the touch. 

The morning light shone in through the gridded sheet metal of the house and it lit the frizz of her hair like a halo. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, but she was grinning that shy grin at him, lifted a small cautious hand to his cheek. He raised a shaking hand to cover hers, and her fingers were soft and cool to the touch. “I don’t deserve someone like you. A pretty little thing like you doesn't belong with a ghoul like me. It's not safe for you.” Her smile dropped.

“Charon,” Her voice creaked out, soft and thick. “There's a lot of thinking I've been doing lately, about where I belong.” She was speaking slowly, like she wasn’t quite sure how to quite put the words together. “It seems, I do not belong anywhere.” Her eyes kept flicking away and then back to his. “ I believe in my skills, and I believe in yours. Charon, you make me feel safe” She forced her gaze to meet his. “So I want to belong with you.” 

“Goddamn” He sighed, leaned into her shoulder that was now level with his head. She wrapped her arms around him in an embrace and he couldn’t help but shiver at how good it felt. She was so soft, so gentle with a tattered man like him. “I want to belong with you too.” He admitted. 

She smiled, leaned away from him just enough to lower her face to his and ever so slowly, leaned in to kiss him. Never in his life could he remember such loving affection. Her lips were so soft, just like her kiss, he was gasping when she finally leaned away from the kiss. Suddenly he was absolutely ravenous for the feel of her lips again. He could kill for the taste of it again. She moved his hands ever so gently around her waist and he was overcome by the feel of her beneath his hands. 

“You’re too fucking perfect” He sighed into her embrace. She chuckled in his arms and he felt his warped skin pull back to actually grin.

“Oh Yeah?” She seemed amused. 

“Yeah,” He knew he was already addicted to her touch. “I could worship you.” At that she actually laughed. 

“I didn’t take you for the pious type” She jested, trailing her fingers about in a blissful trail. He was soaking in any ounce of touch she offered him.

“I can be” He leaned back, hands refusing to leave her form even as he met her eyes. “For you.” Her eyes fell to the floor. Her cheeks were bright red. “Can I show you?” He risked the question. 

“I-” She stuttered out. He felt a bit smug at leaving her at a loss for words. “Okay” She finally managed. He let his hands grip the soft fat of her hips as he guided her back onto the couch. 

“You tell me the second something hurts or is uncomfortable, okay?” He spoke seriously as she took her seat. She met his eyes and nodded with that sweet smile of hers, and his lips were on her’s again, his kiss more forceful than their first. He let his hands roam her torso and down to her outer thighs. Everywhere he touched earned him little shivers and noises against his lips. She sounded incredible. He could die happy like this, her body happy to be in his arms and the taste of her lips on his.

He pulled away. “I want to make you feel good.” He met her eyes. He enjoyed this point of view, her all flushed under him in his arms. She nodded and he descended to her neck, lips working marks down to the collar of her suit, ghosting touches as his hands roamed to her breasts and inner thighs and the skin between them. He moved a hand up to the zipper of her suit and she arched into him. Pulling the zipper, her skin was flushed beneath with a thin sheen of sweat. She helped in his efforts to shrug off the suit and roll it down her body. He pushed her tanktop above her breasts and leaned back to relish the sight of her exposed to him, the way he could watch her shaky breaths make her chest heave. 

Looking at her face, she met his gaze with a smoldering look. He wanted to lave his tongue against every inch of her skin, he wanted to know the taste of her and imbibe her scent till it was engraved into the deepest parts of his mind. 

He once again dropped to his knees before her, grabbed her right leg by the ankle and pulled it to him. He began placing kisses atop her foot, working his way up her leg, kissing his way around her knee and up to her hipbone. Then he grabbed her left leg and did the same. She giggled under his touch the whole time squirming a bit but overall compliant in his grip, looking down at him so fondly he felt his heart could explode. Her giggles, her skin under his hands, he couldn’t remember ever experiencing such joy.

He smoothed his hands over her stomach, kissing around her belly button. His hands swept up her ribcage, finally fondling her breasts and earning him a lovely groan as he kissed beneath each breast before kissing his way up her sternum, through the valley of her breasts to reach her throat. He leaned back and grabbed her wrists, taking his time kissing up her arms before returning to her torso. 

“Charon-” She sighed his name and it was lovely. She leaned down and he eagerly leaned up to meet her lip. He still had trouble comprehending that he was kissing Lone, he was touching her body and she enjoyed it. She wanted him. Her hands were trying to touch him, his hands and arms and face and chest. She leaned away from the kiss and her smile fell. “Charon? Are you okay?” Her hands on his face swiped under his eyes, and he realized he was crying. When was the last time he did that? 

“I’m okay, I'm great” He gasped out. He could feel his heart in his stomach. He didn’t want this to stop. He didn't want to stop touching her, he didn’t want her to stop touching him. “I just thought this would never happen” Her smile returned and the dread disappeared into the shape of bliss. 

“I thought the same” She giggled. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of the sound. It didn’t make sense, the thought that she couldn’t have him. He’d do near anything for her touch. “I was worried that you’d never never like me, much less want me.” 

He sighed. He knew he was cold to her for a long time, he never quite knew what to make of her kindness to him. He knew he was just trying to protect himself the way he’d been doing for centuries, but he still felt guilty. “I’ve been dreaming of this Lone” he admitted. She was smiling, pushing at his jacket and shirt. “I can’t believe you want to touch me.” She just shook her head with another chuckle, pushing at his clothes. 

“Oh Charon, I’ve always wanted to touch you.” She leaned to kiss him again, and he could hardly believe his ears, or what was left. He lifted his shaking hands to remove his jacket and shirt, breaking the kiss to do so. Lone immediately brought her hands to his chest, and he was mortified at the sound he made. She started kissing at his neck and chest and he had to steady himself by gripping the couch as the feeling of her touch rocked through him. 

“Lone-” He sighed, and he was possessed with a need to have his mouth on her again. He brought his arms around her waist and leaned down to kiss at her chest. Her hands flew to his head, running fingers through the patches of hair there. He brought his mouth to her chest, licking around her nipple and she made a lovely sound. He trailed a hand down to the waistband of her panties and she gasped. “Can I touch you here?” He asked. 

“Yes-” She sighed out. She leaned back into the couch and he propped himself over her. He felt her legs frame his hips, her hands lifting to trace his chest. He cupped her over her panties. 

“Have you ever been touched here before?” He asked. She seemed nervous around affection. He’s had sex before, but never like this. Never with someone he cares if they feel good. He couldn’t mess this up. He knew he’d have to be gentle, but if she had as much experience as he expected she would need eased into the experience. 

“No, we did some heavy petting but we’ve never went- um” She had a hard time keeping eye contact and putting her words together it seemed. “We never went under the clothes.” She was blushing all the way down her chest. 

He couldn’t say he was surprised, but he was definitely more conscious about how this was about to go down. He feared hurting or intimidating her. He didn’t want her to get scared, what if she got intimidated and she’d never touch him again? “Remember, we can stop whenever you want. We don't have to-” 

“I want to” She insisted. “I’ve-” She pointedly looked away to get her words straight. “I’ve thought about it a lot. About being with you. And I trust you. I feel safe with you. As long as you want to I-” 

“Oh I want to.” He reassured. And wasn’t that a nice thought? She’d fantasized about this. She’d never had sex before and she’d fantasized about them having sex. She’d seen all the wasteland has to offer and she still fantasized about him. 

He made her feel safe, and god, the realization that he made her feel that way felt incredible. Beyond the satisfaction he takes from his work, he was downright proud that she trusted him, he made her feel safe. Safe enough to trust him with her body. He began to rub her, carefully but firmly through her underwear and the way she squirmed was all he needed to reassure himself that she wanted this. “-And I'm going to make you feel incredible.”

She wanted this and she trusted him to make her feel good, and he’d be damned if he didn’t make her fantasies worth it. He rubbed her a little firmer, till she was making these soft little noises trying to hold her voice back. Then he tugged down her panties, pulling them off her and enjoying the sight of her cunt. He dropped a hand down to feel her and she was delightfully wet. 

He slunk down her body and put his tongue to her. He worked slowly, savoring her taste and her noises and the way she grabbed his head and whimpered his name. He worked a finger into her, leaning away momentarily to speak over her pulsing cunt. 

“You feeling good baby girl?” He spoke teasingly, thrusting his finger to earn himself a whine. 

“Yes!” She gasped from her position, head curled down to look at him and legs clutched around his face and shoulders. “Feels real-” He dropped his mouth back to her and she whined incoherently, bucking into his face. He could feel her slickness across his face and it felt incredible. If an angel showed up and told him he had died, and he was in heaven now, he would believe them without a second thought. “Good, Charon!” Her voice pitched at the end. 

He used his free hand to work down his pants and trousers, being way, way too tight for his liking at the moment, and with the way she was moaning for him it was only getting worse. He worked a second finger into her slowly before beginning to scissor her. He worked his tongue over her clit lazily, looking up at her face and savoring the flavor. He felt the way her heels ground into his back, relished the pressure as he worked her. He slowly pressed in a third digit and she arched her back beautifully, working herself through the feel of it. 

Soon she felt loose enough for him to feel confident he won’t be hurting her by fucking her and he leaned away, pulling his fingers from her to taste her on his skin. She whined at the loss of stimulation. Then he stood to remove his pants and she widened her eyes in surprise. A part of him felt smug at her shock, the rest needed her to know she’s okay. 

“Remember, we can always stop.” He reassured. She nodded, grinned, raised her hands to pull him into her embrace. He kissed her, and it was something warm and filthy, the taste of her slick shared between them. He reached down to stroke himself before picking her up. Her legs quickly latched around his waist and her arms around his neck. 

“Where are we going?” She asked as he walked up the stairs. 

“Your first time isn’t going to be on the couch.” He chuckled out. She giggled in response. 

“Fair” She replied. Up the stairs and down the hallway Charon placed her gently back on the bed before leaning down to kiss her again. He ground himself against her and she groaned into his mouth. She felt so warm and soft and wet against him. He repeated the action until this dick was thoroughly soaked. He looked into her eyes as he lined himself up. He rocked his hips forward slowly, dropping his thumb down to her clit. She moaned as he leaned away enjoying the view of her body arching under him, savoring the feeling of her ever so slowly adjusted to him as he patiently fucked himself into her, gentle as he could manage with his size. 

“Charon-” She gasped out as he finally bottomed out. It was blissful, the tight grip of her pulsing around him, throbbing with each circle to her clit. Her voice calling his name went straight to his dick. 

“I’m going to start actually moving, okay?” He checked with a grunt. 

“Okay” She gasped. He enjoyed seeing her so affected by his actions. He pulled himself out to the tip, before sliding back in gently. The little gasp she let out was lovely. She was rocking her hips to meet him, and the visual was addicting. His thrusts sped up the longer they went on, losing themselves in the motions and noises of each other’s bodies till the quick slap of skin on skin filled the room around them. 

“Yes-s-s-s” Lone groaned out voice hitching with each thrust as he changed the angle of his thrusts. “Charon!” She arched into his grip, and he could feel her hands clawing up his back. She responded so well to every one of his actions. 

“So fucking perfect Lone” He moaned, losing himself in feel of her. 

“Ah, Ah, Charon!” Lone threw her head back with a yelp and he felt her thrash in his grip as her eyes rolled back. He could feel her pulse hard around him and the feeling of it pulled him over the edge. He pulled out and gripped the sheets hard as he came, and when he was once again able to process the world around him he found himself looking at her staring at him, starry eyed. He leaned down to kiss her, slow and deep. 

“How do you feel?” He leaned away from her lips to check on her. 

“Really, really good-” She sighed. “ I still feel a little floaty.” He leaned to his side and rolled to his side, pulling her close to him. 

“Good” His voice felt gruff after what they’d just done. It still felt so surreal, holding her in his arms. Feeling her bare skin under his hands. She was just so beautiful to him. He couldn’t get his head around why she would want him, but it felt too good to question. He knew already he’d kill a man to keep her in his arms. 

“I-” She seems to glance up at him, trying to make herself meet his eyes before seeming to quickly lose nerve, tucking her face into his neck. “I-” He felt her huff against his skin. “I love you.” She spoke out small and fast. “And I know maybe it's moving fast but I-” He leaned down to kiss her before she could get caught in one of her anxious tangents. 

“I love you too.” He spoke quietly. It felt strange to say, but it felt true.  He couldn’t think of a thing he wouldn’t do for her. He can’t name a single person he trusts more. He can’t imagine wanting to do anything that didn’t involve being around her. She was this blinding light in the wasteland, determined to do what she wants, and it seems history follows her. He didn’t understand how she was patient enough to wander all around the wastes helping people, how she was able to act with so much understanding no matter how many people tried to fuck her over. 

Charon could never remember feeling loved, but he knew in that moment, her eyes peaking up at him with this lovely little smile as her hands refused to leave him, looking at him with so much joy and this soft adoration; he knew in that moment he was loved by her. It felt better than anything he could have ever imagined. 

Then she was visibly trying not to frown, he could tell she was trying to hold the tears back, her chest heaving. She was always a horrible actor and a worse liar.

“You mean it? You don’t resent me?” He could see those cogs turning in her head. He’d seen her meltdown like this before, when something happened and she felt especially overcome with guilt or dread. 

“Why would I?” He tried to challenge her train of thought. 

“I bought you and I owned you and you had to risk your life for me and-” She wasn’t looking at him anymore, could see the little lines of tears down her face and it made his heart drop. He didn’t understand her sudden mood drop but he wanted to do anything he could to make her feel better. 

“I-” He tried to start. 

“And how different am I than fucking Moriarty or Paradise falls or Azu-” She was leaning away, not looking at him.

“No-” He tried to interject. 

 “Oh my god!” She gasped out. “The shit I’ve dragged you through, and I.” 

“Stop” He felt a bit angry, maybe its just how he felt when he saw her sad. 

“I’m just so sorry Charon” She sniffed out. She raised her hands to cover her face and he immediately interceded, grabbing her face instead. 

“Lone, look at me.” She reluctantly met his eyes, her hands over his. “Thank you.” 

“B-”

“No, you listen to me. I-” He closed his eyes with a huff, leaned his forehead against hers. “I can't even piece it all together myself, my conditioning, how I spent the last few centuries. But you’re the first person to care in a long fucking time.” 

“But I bought-” She was quietly sobbing at this point. He kissed her, and it seemed to stun her enough to quiet her a bit. 

“What you did was try to buy my freedom. You didn’t realize what you were signing up for but when you realized it you tried anyway. You tried to give the contract to me, tried to give me the money to buy it from you, tried to destroy it and I threatened you for it. And you still cared about me, trusted my input, asked for my input, you’ve been kind.” 

“Sorry, I’m-” She did have a habit of saying that for no real reason. 

“Do not apologize” He met her eyes and spoke firmly. “You’ve given me more than I ever realized I could have, You waited for me to feel ready. You never ordered me to do anything.” 

He could see her open her mouth to argue. “You know what I actually think did it? The only command you ever gave me was to ignore your peril and run for my life. That’s the opposite of what I know I’ve been trained to do.” He could see her breathing start to even and he felt less angry and- sad? Looking at her crying face. 

“All those people you mentioned were mean fucking bastards. You know what Azurakal ordered me to do? The ways he made me hurt people?” He tried to explain. 

“But you kill for me-” He was getting annoyed at her baseless need to demonize herself. 

“Azurakal had me torture people who couldn’t pay.” He pressed a hand over her mouth, frowning at her. “Told me to hurt people in every way a person can be hurt, nothing was off limits and it was sick. I dreaded his every word. Paradise falls steal a person’s ability to think for themself. Moriarty I'm sure did whatever he wanted with Gob and Nova. Anything he’d let customers see he does ten times worse behind closed doors, I guarantee. For all you or I know you could very well have saved both of their lives. I know you saved mine. “ 

Her hand was on the wrist of the hand covering her mouth, but when he moved it she seemed to just open her mouth a bit in shock. Then she closed her eyes and mouth and huffed. She tried to wipe at her eyes but the tears kept coming. “We were having a nice moment and I-” His hand returned to over her mouth. 

“You’re allowed to be upset.” He moved his hand to pull her tight to his chest. He could feel her hands were shaky. “It’s all fucked up.” He reassured. “But we have each other.”

“Yeah” She seemed to relax in his grip. Her breathing wasn’t as shaky. “I feel lucky to have you Charon.” She finally looked up to him, eyes not as wet having pressed against hist pitted chest. “I love you”

“I love you too,” He answered. She finally seemed a bit calm again in his arms. She did cry a lot though, she’d better drink something, and she’ll need to wash and- “ I'm getting you a water.” He rose to get up from the bed, but Lone was latched around his waist as best she could. 

“Boooooo!” She complained. “You should stay and cuddle me.” 

“We can after you drink something, crybaby.” He grabbed her by her hair to pull her into a kiss. Shocking enough for her grip to loosen. 

“Booo! Tato! Tato! Tato!” She mimicked throwing tatos at him from where she lay, flopped dramatically over the bed and he sighed. Yeah, he loved this woman.

[orangerosethorn]

Radiated Hearts

Gob x My lone, Delmar

[finely-arts]

Fallout Janitor Ai Mega-Post

Hi! I make Janitor Ai and Poe Ai bots for Fallout Characters. Below is my list of characters and the links to each one :) In addition, not only do I take requests but I have a bot that gives updates about what characters I am creating and what bots I am planning. It is here.

𝗙𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝟯 • Gob - x • Charon - x • Desmond Lockheart - x • James - x 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐭: 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐕𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐬 • Legate Lanius - x • Legate Lanius [You are given to him as a gift] - x • Raul Tejeda - x • Craig Boone - x • Dean Domino - x • Dean Domino [Added additional Backstory] - x • Arcade Isreal Gannon - x • Vulpes Inculta - x • Vulpes Inculta [He Tortures You] - x • Ulysses - x • Ulysses [ Shorter Version ] - x 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝟒 • Paladin Danse - x • Paladin Danse [Meets Lone Wanderer] - x

[slashingdisneypasta]

Dorothy Must Die!Tin Woodman x Fem!Lion'sWarrior!Reader || Drabble

Plot: The Lion 'lends' you to the Tin Woodman for a day after his own second-in-command is forced to go to the Scarecrow for repairs. And you're perceptive, and you're blunt. And you try to tell the Woodman a couple things that he... just doesn't want to hear.

You also may be developing a fondness for him.

Warnings: N/A.

Tagging: @marinerainbow. You havent specifically said to tag you in Tin Woodman stuff but... I assumed... 😅😅😅 I hope that was okay!! XD ^^

The Tin Woodman didn't require a lot of help throughout the day, so you aren't completely sure why your King needed you to accompany him when his actual number 2 was hurt earlier in the day. He makes all orders himself; all he needs from you is to hold his oil can in case of accidents with water (Or crying, the Lion told you. He's an awful cryer. But you haven't seen any sign of the Tin Woodman crying. You couldn't even imagine that. He's so... emotionless).

Though, you do wonder if the man is lonely, and thats why he requires a companion all day... you see the way he looks at Queen Dorothy. You both went into the throne room earlier while Dorothy was 'speaking to' (Sentencing) a poor munchkin woman, and you saw it clear as day; the longing in his metal eyes when she talked. And even more then that, you felt the air shift back to monotonous as soon as he left the room with her in it, again. You hadn't even realised it had lightened in the first place when she was near, but you couldn't miss it now. He was brighter with her, happier. But... it was in a sad sort of way. Because, clearly, she did not know.

In the forest everyone's quite honest with each other. Animals don't pretend to feel a way about each other that they don't- and, having been raised in the forest by tigers, you were just the same. You don't understand why the Tin Woodman wouldn't just... tell her he's in love with her. Lay it all out on the table. Its clearly eating at him, and even if she tells him she's not interested then at least he can begin to move on... find a more suitable mate...

For, at least in your opinion, the Tin Woodman was quite an... agreeable gentleman. Tall, strong, sensible. A little bit too uptight for your tastes, but... you're sure plenty a lovely lady would be happy to be his mate; be that a munchkin, human, beast, metal creature or any other walk of life he may be interested in.

Over lunch, you tell him as such.

~

"What???" The Woodman seemed startled, hearing you say such things so boldly; a confused look on your face at his fluster. "You- what??"

He didn't have to eat, but he acknowledged that you did - as an organic creature,- , so he had stood by the table you were eating your porridge at quite patiently, and calmly... though now his shoulders were hiked up and his eyes were open wide. "I think you're a very handsome tin-man, and quite a gentleman. You should just tell Dorothy how you feel."

"... this is inappropriate. You shouldn't be so forward with me, you know." He tries to act un-bothered by your words, but you just wait a few moments- and he cracks, turning to you fully. "-and how do you know of my feelings or her majesty Dorothy?? Did Lion tell you???"

"No, my King told my nothing. I saw it myself." You admit bluntly, scooping a mouthful of porridge into your gob.

"What do you mean you saw it???" His voice goes slightly higher in horror and mortification, and a little grin spreads across your face despite how you probably shouldn't laugh at him right now. Or at all.

So he's not so completely serious, then. Thats... endearing.

"You're not very good at hiding it."

"Whats- what's with the smiling?? Why are you sm- " Suddenly he remembers himself, and straightens his posture once again. "Never mind. You cant understand the depths of my feelings for the Queen, or hers for me. You're just a merry Ozian." At that, you cringe. He believes she has feelings for him?? Oof, thats... rough... So rough, in fact, that you let that belittling statement of his slide. There was absolutely no love in that girl's eyes. "Or, furthermore, how difficult it would be for us to manage a relationship in this political climate. After all, I am her general."

"Right... " You nod, forcing an agreement and turning your focus fully to your bowl of sloppy porridge. He's more deluded than you thought, so maybe you should just let him go. Breaking a crazy person out of their delusions can be dangerous!

But he hears the disbelieving tone in your voice, and swivels his head around to you again. He cant help himself. "What was that?"

"Absolute nothing, sir, I'm just going to finish my lunch and we can go about your business once again."

"Mmm... " He grumbles to himself, but gives a nod. "Maybe you should."

You manage a few large mouthfuls, almost finishing, before the poor Tin Man cant handle it and actually moves to sit down opposite you; setting you with a stern look and folding his formidable hands carefully on the table before him. Considering his height, you still had to crane your neck to look at him, but you appreciate the gesture he's made, all the same. "I order you to speak. Why did you sound so sarcastic?"

"I didn't- "

"I thought your people didn't lie."

... hmph. "Fine. You're right, and I hated it." After giving it a moments thought, you decide to be frank with him. "I just... don't think the Queen, as deeply as she may care for you which I'm sure she does, thinks... That, of you. You are her old friend, and thats all. And I don't think you should be disappointed, either, sir, because as far as love goes- thats plenty."

The Tin Woodman continues to look sternly at you, so deeply and stonily that you might think that he were made of rock and not tin at all, in fact... and he's so quiet as he thinks that you swear you hear his heart tick-tock-ticking inside his chest... until, finally, the man takes in a deep whistling breath through his pins-and-needles mouth, that you aren't quite sure he actually needs (Being made of tin, and all), and lifts his laser focused eyes off of you. Its a small relief, and you take your own breath as you relax.

"... And how do you suppose to prove these assumptions?"

That gives you pause. Makes you hesitate. Prove??? You're not in a court right now, you're just talking. "I- well-... I guess I cant." Giving a shrug, you put down your spoon; Officially finished with your lunch; Put off it by the Tin Man's way of thinking, which is rather too Official, for your tastes. Too human and pompous, especially for a man made entirely out of tin. Then you add, with certainty and conviction: "I saw it in her eyes."

-immediately the Tin Woodman starts to shake, and you're worried about him, until you realise that he's chuckling. This man is c h u c k l i n g- at you. Baffled, you watch him with frustration, barely noticing the munchkin servants around you flash you both boggled and horrified glances; having never seen the Tin Man laugh. "Oh... " He sighs, using the blunt edge of one of his terrible fingers to scrape a loose tear away from the corner of his eye before it can get into any joints. "Good, because I was quite afraid for a moment, there."

Your jaw drops. "Excuse m- "

"Miss." The Woodman cuts you off, and you immediately - obediently, - shut your mouth. All humour had disappeared from the metal man's visage as quickly as it had appeared, and once again he was as serious as could be. "I suggest you finish your meal, and build up your strength. We have a long day to go, yet, and- "

"I know what I'm talking about, Mr. Dorothy does not love you." You insist, eyes wide and earnest to which he just nods, humming. "She doesn't."

"Mhm." His stubbornness is just as tough as his skin!!

"Mr Woodman- "

"I suppose you're finished." He cuts you off again, picking up your bowl and setting it on the platter that a nearby munchkin is waiting with after getting up from the table. "Off we go." As swiftly as the bulky tin can is able, he turns on his heels and marches off down a hallway; and you have no choice but to follow after him despite your irritation. About halfway down the hall though, he suddenly stops and swivels around again (His upper body turning and leaving his legs facing the way he was going, before bending down at the waist in order to meet your eye), making you stop very suddenly as well as to not run right into him and hurt yourself. "Out of curiosity, if Dorothy and I weren't meant to be, which we are, who in your All Knowing opinion, would I possibly give all this love over to? I asked for a heart from the wizard all those seasons ago for a reason-- it wouldn't do, to let it all go to waste, now would it?"

... at this, you're speechless. Well, anyone, right?? Anyone who wanted it in return. Your lips part, but no words come out at first. What an odd question.

"... suddenly speechless? Nothing to say now all of a sudden, little Ozian?" He asks, and if you didn't know any better- teased. With his head lowered and rearing down so close to yours so the smell of oil fills your head and make you a little bit dizzy, and the playful and challenging tone in his voice, he's Almost... almost... "Colour me shocked." He's... almost...

"Well I'm sure I don't know, specifically." You say, straightening up. "Anyone, I suppose."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Anyone?"

"Yes." ... almost... something... to you...

... slowly a nearly-unseemly smirk spreads across the well-shined underbite of sharp and pointy nightmares he calls a mouth and a flutter erupts in the pit of your belly. You're shocked, and can only stand there with your eyes wide on him and your lips parted. "... well I'll keep that in mind." Then in an instant, the smirk is gone and he turns his back on you again; replacing his Almost-ness with that regular sensible general-sona he wears for Dorothy. But the fluttering inside you doesn't go away with it, eyes on him. "Anyway, lets go. Much work to do for Dorothy!"

He marches off, and you follow him, wondering what on earth this feeling is and how to get rid of it and when you can go back to your King.

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 1: Leather with Charon

Pairing: Charon x Reader/Lone Wanderer (Neither (Y/n) nor LW names used) Word Count: 3650 Warnings: Leather kink, Oral (F receiving), vaginal fingering, P in V sex, unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it), aftercare, lil bit of dirty talk, feelings (These bitches in love). Kinktober Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

My arms ached as we trudged through the metal door to our shared home in Megaton, the sound of Charon closing and locking it behind himself followed me up the stairs as my heavy feet carried me to my bedroom to drop my pack before I went to prepare the pair of us some dinner before the inevitable crash that always came after weeks on the dusty roads of the Capitol Wasteland.

“Bring your guns down with you, they need maintenance.” His low gravelly voice broke the non-silence of the house as I was shucking my Tunnel Snakes jacket off, preparing to change into lounge clothes.

The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down my spine that I was too tired to acknowledge right then.

“Yeah.” I called back before unzipping and messily stripping out of my vault suit, leaving it and my boots in a heap on the floor for tomorrow me to deal with, it needed washing anyway so it’s not like a night on the floor will hurt anything.

The worn soft material of my Brahmin skin pants was a welcome change from the skintight blue I’d been wearing for the last two weeks. It was a good thing that at this point Charon and I were used to each other’s smells, because I was sure I reeked, but bathing, just like laundry, would have to be a problem for future me.

With my pistol and assault rifle in hand I made my way back downstairs with heavy steps, softened by the Brahmin leather house shoes I now wore. “What sounds good? I’m thinking a couple cans of cram?” I asked the room at large, though I could see him sitting on the couch with his shotgun already in pieces.

“Got anymore of Jenny’s Mirelurk cakes in the fridge?” He asked, a question of such casual nature would have been unheard of 6 months ago, when it was like pulling teeth to get any kind of verbal acknowledgement from the large ghoul, but we hadn’t been quite so close then.

“I think so, don’t know if they’re still any good.” I made a face, though he wasn’t looking at me, I was trying not to look at him as I set my weapons on the couch next to him that was for certain.

I knew he was still wearing his leather armor, and out on the road there were enough distractions to keep me from thinking about how he looked, the way the thick material wrapped around and stretched over his muscular arms, the slight creak it would give when he flexed just right, and the way it made my lower belly feel like fire in the best way.

But here at home, where we were safe? There was nothing to help keep me from staring, nothing to help keep my brain occupied and not thinking about how much I desperately want to fuck my partner, a title that we’d agreed to use after a test run to make sure the mental conditioning wouldn’t cause him any issues.

It was right around that time that he started opening up more, about himself and just in general, like a switch had been flipped. Now, he still isn’t the chatty type, still content to stand behind me and stare menacingly while I do all the talking, but that was for the better, he’s not much of a people person.

And as he opened up, the schoolgirl style crush I’d gained on the man had evolved and after a near death experience I’d admitted to it, which resulted in…Whatever we were now, more than fuckbuddies, but the L word hasn’t been uttered though there were definitely feelings involved, I guess one could call it ‘going steady’ but we don’t exactly go on dates, seeing as the only options for that would be to go to Gob’s Saloon or the Brass Lantern, and we have booze and food at home, but I digress! The important part is that we haven’t taken any physical steps yet.

I’d asked about it once, why he hadn’t put the moves on me the way boys in the Vault had before they decided that I was untouchable. He’d said that he’d been around for a long time, and he was content to take our time, go at whatever pace I needed, and when I was ready, he was too.

At the time I’d been thankful for that. I’m no virgin, but this was a much deeper relationship than any other I’d ever had, so I didn’t want to fuck it all up by jumping into bed too fast, but it’s been 3 months and I was getting antsy, and that damn leather armor wasn’t helping!

It drove me insane, and it made it harder to keep my mouth shut, especially when he took off the top half and left the pants on, usually when he had to make repairs to a shoulder pad or something, giving me a beautiful view of the plains of his chest and back, rough patches of scarred skin over thick muscle that I knew was for far more than show.

“(Y/n)?” His voice saying my name damn near had a whimper falling from my lips as I snapped out of my thoughts to realize I’d been leaning against the counter staring at him this whole time. Shit, real fucking smooth Rad-for-brains…

“Hmm?” It came out a little dumb in my efforts to sound casual.

“You okay?” He sounded so genuinely concerned and it made my chest ache a little, still unused to being cared for.

“Yeah, why?” I asked, voice a little higher pitched than necessary as I turned to get our dinner ready, sniffing the plate of Mirelurk cakes and nearly gagging at the smell. “The cakes went bad.” I announced, still trying to sound casual, but then I heard him moving behind me.

“I said your name three times before you answered me.” He said from much closer than the couch, and a look over my shoulder revealed that he was standing in all his black leather glory about three feet from me. “And you were making the face you make when you’re thinking about something.”

I make a thinking face? And he noticed it? Could he get any more perfect?

“It’s nothing, just getting lost in thought, you know how I get when I’m tired.” I shrugged, and it was true, I turn into a total space-brain when I get too tired.

The sound of him moving met my ears and I could feel his heat at my back, he was close to me now, probably less than a foot away. “That wasn’t your space-brain face.” He said lowly, inches from my ear. “Talk to me.” I felt his rough hand wrap around my forearm soothingly, the warm weight was grounding and it made something zing down my spine when I saw the black sleeve of his shirt.

Setting down the unopened can of Cram I let out a sigh and closed my eyes. “Leather.” I said, like it would explain everything.

“Leather?” He repeated and I could picture his confused face.

“Your armor, the leather…It…” I let out another sigh, harsher this time as I got annoyed with my inability to just say it. “Your leather armor turns me on. Like really bad, and I can’t stop thinking about it and how much I want you to pin me down and fuck me within an inch of my life every time I see you in it.” The words came out in a rush, but I was sure it was clear and coherent enough for him to understand, he’s always been good at deciphering my ramblings.

I felt him get closer, till his chest pressed into my back, pinning me between him and the counter. “Do you want me to do something about it?” He had, voice somehow lower than ever before and husky and his breath is hot on my neck as his free hand wraps around the curve of my hip and gives a gentle squeeze of the softness there.

My brain ground to a pleasant halt at his words and actions, words seemed miles away now, so I nodded instead, and he let out a quiet “Tsk” before he turned me to face him, wasting no time to crowd back into me once he had me where he wanted me. “Words, Baby…Need to hear you say it.”

His foggy blue eyes were burning into mine with a heat that I’d seen before but hadn’t been able to name, usually after he watched me do something smart like hack a terminal or talk our way to a better bounty for a job, now I knew the name, it was lust.

“Please, do something about it.” The words were so quiet I was worried I’d only mouthed them for a moment, but then a small slow smile curled the corners of his lips before he leaned down and pressed them to mine.

We’d kissed before, plenty of times, usually in the privacy of camp or here at home, but it was normally just little pecks, never proper making out, and certainly nothing like this. His lips were as rough as they always were, but he moved slow, like he was savoring it as much as I was. He had his hand on my chin to tilt my head back for a better angle as he tilted his head to the side, running his tongue over my lower lip, pulling a soft gasp from me that he used as an opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth.

My hands, which had felt almost numb hanging at my sides seemed to find their life again as one came to rest on his chest, curling around one of the pads of his armor and into the fabric, while the other rested on his cheek tenderly, thumb brushing back and forth along his cheekbone.

He had an almost death grip on my hip, keeping me pulled flush to his body, letting me feel every curve and angle he had to offer though the thickness of his clothes, which included the very solid presence in the front of his pants, the realization of which made my pussy ache for him.

Taking some initiative, I pressed my hips to his, grinding as best I could with our height difference, and he let out a shuddering breath, soft and warm against my lips.

I felt his muscles flex under his armor seconds before he was lifting me, a hand under my ass while the other held my thigh, prompting me to wrap my legs around his waist as he pulled back from the counter and started toward the stairs, taking me with him.

As we went, I set to work undoing the buckles and belts of his armor, determined to feel and see more of him.

By the time he was laying me out on my bed, the door kicked closed behind us, all he had to do was shrug out of his shirt, which he did before dropping to his knees between my legs, hanging off the edge of the bed.

His hands deftly worked my pants off, slipping them slowly down my legs to reveal I wasn’t wearing anything under them, giving him a perfect view of my slickened pussy.

I watched him lean in then stop inches from contact to look up at me, gazes locking, pupils dilated and questioning, like he thought that I would stop him now of all times. I nodded my assent, and he wasted not a second more before diving in, pressing kisses first to my thighs, still plush from my time in the Vault but more muscular than they had been from all the walking.

The kisses turned into bites that punched a moan from my lips, my hand flying down to grip his where it wrapped around the outside of my thigh, I felt rather than saw him smirk before he ran his tongue from the bottom of my cunt to the top where it flicked my clit, sending a zing through my body.

“Just started and your thighs are already shaking…” He murmured before repeating his previous action, making my back arch a little. “God you’re perfect.” He sounded like he was saying it more to himself than to me, and I was too lost in him to respond anyway. “All this just from some kissing and seeing me in leather…” He chuckled teasingly. “Poor thing, you’ve been desperate for so long, haven’t you?” He looked back up at me, waiting for my response, but as I managed to put together words, he slipped a thick finger into me and curled it into something that made me cry out. “I could live off the sounds you make.”

He set a slow rhythm, a steady in and out, curling on the way out into that spot over and over while continuing to flick over my clit. I could feel the knot building in my belly, and he must have noticed because he added a second finger and went from flicking to sucking.

“Fuck! Charon…!” I whimpered, grip on his hand tightening as he drove me up the hill faster than I’d ever managed on my own.

“Come on, pretty, give it to me…” He coaxed slowly, the low timbre of his voice nearly ended me right then, but no, it was the way his eyes never strayed from mine, the expanse of blue so open and waiting. I tumbled off the cliff in a show of whimpers and gasps, thighs shaking and eyes rolling closed. “There it is, atta girl.” His fingers slowed but didn’t stop, letting me ride out my orgasm.

Once I’d started teetering on the edge of overstimulation I tugged his hand, a wordless request for him to join me on the bed, one heeded with a sweet curl to his lips. He settled over me, hips resting between my thighs, the tight leather rubbing against the slowly bruising skin, and pressed a kiss to my forehead, then another on my cheek, then my nose, then finally his lips met mine and I sighed into the contact, pressing up into him with my whole body, thighs tightening on his hips in an effort to pull him closer.

He let out a shuddery breath as he rolled his hips down against me, the smooth front of his pants delivering sweet friction to my sensitive clit. “Charon…” I breathed his name to get his attention and his eyes cleared as they locked on me, waiting patiently for whatever I was going to say. “Please…” I pleaded, and both of us knew exactly what I was asking for.

His eyes grew hazy once more as his lips pressed to my neck softly, leaving a tender trail down to the hem of my shirt, where his hands followed to tug it up and off, baring me fully to his hungry eyes.

He wasted no time in continuing the sweet trail of kisses down to my chest, where he latched onto one of my nipples to give it a soft suck, the other not left neglected as his hand came to cup it, a rough thumb brushing over the pebbled tip.

He only lingered there for a few moments before sitting up, giving me a full view of his muscular chest and tummy laden with a layer of fat that made him look soft yet didn’t detract from the powerful strength I knew he possessed, and for a moment I wondered if he’d had a happy trail in the same shade of red as his hair before he went ghoul, but that thought lasted only till my eyes met the edge of those damned leather pants, where his hands were working the front open.

As if sensing that I was neither willing to wait that long nor have him move away long enough to fully remove them, he just shoved them down far enough to free his cock, letting out a sigh as the pressure that the front his pants was putting on him was relieved.

He truly is beautiful, all hard plains of scarred muscle and hands that were only gentle for me, light eyes that see into my soul and lips that make my heart sing. I could die a happy woman if it was in his arms.

He stroked his cock a couple times, spreading the precum that had clearly been leaking for a bit over the whole length, my fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and touch, but I knew neither of us had the patience for that right now, and there would be time later, so instead I let out a hum to get his attention.

The diamonds that made up his eyes flashed up to meet mine at the sound, looking half as if he expected something to be wrong and half like he could fall off the edge of sanity at any moment; I understood the feeling.

When I let out another hum and shifted my hips against him the worry in his gaze turned to understanding and he let out what might have been a chuckle if not for his breathlessness.

Shifting his knees where they pressed into the mattress just under my thighs, he leaned down till his face was inches from mine, so close we could share breaths, and pressed the tip to me, not pushing in, but a firm presence.

I only had eyes for him as he held there, he searched my face for a moment before seeming to find what he was looking for and pressing in slowly.

He was thick, thicker than anyone else I’d ever been with, but then he was also the largest man I’d ever seen, so it made sense.

There was a slight burning stretch that a depraved part of me loved, knowing it would leave an ache for the next day or so after we were done, and it made a pleased whimper shiver its way out of me, hands gripping his shoulders to pull him closer while my legs wrapped around him, unable to meet in the middle to lock ankles, but he seemed to understand what I was trying to do as he bottomed out.

He stayed there for a couple moments; forehead pressed into the crook of my neck as his breaths came in ragged puffs that warmed my already flushed skin. It took a moment for it to dawn on me what he was doing.

He was trying not to cum.

I ran my hands up and down his shoulders, arms, the back of his neck, anywhere I could reach soothingly, content to stay like this as long as he needed.

After a couple moments he pulled his face from its hiding spot, eyes half lidded and dark as he looked down at me. He looked like a starving man that’s been given a feast.

I barely had time to react to the shudder that that look sent through me before he was rolling his hips into me, a slow in and out, the curve of his cock brushing hard against that same spot from before on the out stroke and reaching my deepest point on every in stroke.

There was no control to be had over the sounds coming from between my lips, whimpers and gasps and half-finished cries of his name were carried on every breath, and he was no different as he let out soft grunts and sighs, eyes rolling back for a second before locking back on mine once more, like he couldn’t bear the thought of not watching me fall apart under him.

All too soon I felt the building of that sweet release, and just like before he could tell, as one hand, which had been pressed into the mattress next to my head, moved down to make tight circles over my still oversensitive clit, causing me to arch up into him with a sharp gasp.

The climb up the hill was shorter this time, and the plunge off the edge was grander as my vision went white and my body was wracked in shakes. At some point tears began to fall, leaving lines in the dust that still clung to my face from our time on the road.

I had barely enough wherewithal to feel the flood of heat that filled me as he followed me right off that cliff.

When I came back to earth, it was to the feeling of his weight carefully rested on me, most of it on his knees where they rested on either side of my body, and an arm resting next to my head, the other hand now running through my hair slowly.

Turning my head, I found him looking at me, eyes soft.

“Hi…” I whispered, voice a little hoarse from breathlessness.

A gentle smile curled his lips, eyes shining with mirth. “Hey…” He returned, the depth of his voice sending a rumble through my body.

I curled around him as best I could from my position, not caring that his softening cock was slowly slipping from me to free the mess that I knew he’d made of my insides.

We stayed like that, basking in each other for a while, before he got up to get a rag and a can of purified water. When he returned, he gently cleaned me up, then himself, then made me drink half the can before laying back down with me.

I was on the edge of sleep when his voice broke the silence. “So, leather huh?” He teased, and I could hear his smirk.

Sleep became a thing for later as peals of our laughter filled the darkness, light and happy.

[yabanil]

me scouring the internet for gob x lone wanderer fanfiction and then falling into a moral dillema of 'how old is gob' and 'why the hell would he even be interested in a 19 year old' self insert isteklerim suya düştü. içimde mutsuzluk var başka hiç bişey yok

[distractedrighter]

The Lone Wanderer and The Tunnel Snake, Chapter 2: Daddy Lied

Universe: Fallout 3

Pairing: f!Lone Wanderer x Butch DeLoria

Rating: T

Prompt: Felicity escapes Vault 101 in pursuit of her father, and her childhood bully follows suit. A reimagining of Fallout 3, but if Butch was by your side the entire time. 

Chapter Summary: Felicity and Butch make their way to Megaton in search of James. 

Warnings: None, yet. 

Tags: Enemies to friends to lovers

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32799556/chapters/81392401#workskin

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Day 7 -- Gob

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober, Day 7 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don't interact.

Pegging with Gob x F!Lone

Day 7! One week in, woo hoo! And it's our lovely Gob this time. I adore this ghoul with everything in me, omg.

I hope you enjoy reading as much as I loved writing for this soft baby.

Here is the link to my Kinktober 2022 Event list so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Pegging, strap-ons, dirty talk, praise, anal sex, anal fingering, hand jobs, multiple orgasms, enthusiastic consent, aftercare, pillow talk, fluff.

2.4k words.

--

Gob bit down hard on the bed sheet between his teeth as Lone stretched him open with a third finger. 

“Thaaaat’s it.” His partner said quietly, her free hand stroking over the few rough patches of hair left on his head as she slowly worked the fingers of her other hand deeper into his ass. “How’s that feel, baby?”

Gob groaned. It was all he could do at the sound of her words, as Lone leaned over him and whispered into his ruined ear, asking him questions like that when he was in this position. She sat back on the bed, her three fingers rhythmically working themselves deeper with each methodical thrust. Her other hand dragged down the back of his head, stroking over his back soothingly as she felt his body clench up. 

“Talk to me, honey. How are you feeling?” 

“Good.” He choked out. And dammit, he was. 

When he realized this was something he’d wanted, he’d still been nervous as hell about it, but Lone had been so supportive from the beginning, asking questions and establishing some ground rules, promising to take the time necessary to prepare him for what was to come. The strap-on they’d found wasn’t huge, but it sure as hell was a whole lot bigger than the couple of fingers he’d taken before realizing he’d wanted to try more. 

“I’m feeling good.” He reiterated. 

“Mm, good.” Lone leaned forward, her lips meeting his shoulder blade as she drove her fingers inside the rest of the way, finally reaching her knuckle. 

“There.” She whispered, kissing his shoulder again. 

Gob sucked in a breath at the feeling of being so stretched, of taking something deeper than he ever had before. The feeling of being so full.

His body shuddered as he involuntarily released another moan at the way Lone began to pull her fingers back, before thrusting back in again, as far as she could go. 

“What a good boy.” 

Gob’s muscles tensed at her words, his ass clenching around her fingers as though he never wanted them to leave. 

“Taking me so well.” 

He couldn’t do more than moan at her touch, hands clenching at the mattress for desperate purchase as he bucked his ass back against her fingers. Gob grit his teeth at the feeling of sudden friction against his half-hard cock, pressed firmly between his stomach and the uneven fabric of the bed sheets. 

“Can’t wait to give you my strap.” Lone carried on with her dirty words, even as her fingers pushed and pulled themselves out of his yielding entrance. “Be nice to hear those sweet sounds when I’m inside you. Even better than having you beg for me like you did earlier, even better than this.” 

She plunged her fingers all the way in again, and Gob gasped as he felt the tips of her digits just barely graze a pressure point deep inside him. 

“Lone, please.” He unwittingly obliged her wishes, his voice begging only half as loud as his writhing body, his tensing muscles, his throbbing cock and clenching ass. “I-I need it. Need it now. Please. ‘M ready.” 

He couldn’t see her face, but he could feel the way her grin formed on her lips as her hand stroked over his back, her fingers drawing out of him slowly before circling teasingly at the loosened opening. 

“Good, baby. I need you too. Need to see you fall apart beneath me, need to feel it happen.” 

He whimpered at that, his ass clenching at nothing as she drew her hands from his body completely. 

“Need to see your face as I take you like this for the first time.” Her hands came back to his body, gently guiding Gob onto his back on the bed, spreading his thighs as she scooted forward between them. 

Gob’s chest rose and fell heavily as he looked down his body, the imposing rubber cock Lone wore jutting out towards his stomach and making some warm feeling leap within him. He didn’t know how he was going to fit it all, but dammit, he wanted to. Not only so he wouldn’t disappoint her, but also just because he craved it. He craved the power she’d have over him, the trust that it took to be this vulnerable with anyone, especially someone as perfect as his gorgeous Lone. He craved the closeness they would share, craved her voice in his ear and her smooth skin against his, craved that look in her eyes when they were intimate, craved the way she– against all odds and reason– craved him in return. 

“You remember the safe word, baby?” 

Her voice broke into his thoughts, and Gob nodded quickly, assuring her. 

“Good.” She leaned over his body, the strap laying on his belly and nudging against his hardening cock as she bet to kiss him. “And please don’t be afraid to use it if you need to, okay? You're safe with me.” 

Her voice was normal for a moment, not bedroom Lone, not the dominant seductress he loved to submit to, but just his partner. She knew how he hated to let her down, but the way she spoke to him, Gob knew no matter what happened next, he wouldn’t be disappointing her. 

It was unfamiliar to feel so safe with someone. 

Gob couldn’t get enough of it. Of her. 

He raised his head and kissed her this time, more chaste than her contact, but still reassuring in the same such way she had been with him. 

“Okay.” His voice rasped, and Lone’s lips drew into a grin. 

“Okay, then, why don’t we begin?” 

She leaned back again, pulling her pelvis back and stroking one hand over her strap, while the other rested down on his thigh. He watched with half-hooded eyes as she applied more lube to the rubber cock, his body shuddering as her hand came next to spread more of the slick substance over his entrance. 

“Alright baby, just relax.” She prodded the head of the strap to his puckered asshole, pressing at him teasingly, but never fully allowing the bulbous tip to slot inside. 

He tried to do as she asked, to be good, making himself focus on his breathing, on her voice, the sound of each breath she took, the feel of her hand on his thigh, instead of the mildly uncomfortable stretch that pressured him with each subtle pulse of his partner’s hips. 

“That’s it.” She told him, feeling her strap dip inside as his entrance relented. “You’re ready. I’m gonna put it in, okay?” 

Gob’s teeth gritted together, but he nodded to her nonetheless. 

One more check to see if I really want to do this. 

She must be the most thoughtful person I’ve ever met.

Even amidst their heated moment, Gob found himself in utter bewilderment that he was the lucky ghoul that got to be with her. 

Anyone in the wasteland would be lucky to be with my Lone, and somehow, she chose me…

His body shuddered against the mattress, and on the next thrust forward, Lone applied more pressure, slowly stretching his entrance wide before popping the head of her strap fully inside. Gob’s fists clenched and he bit back a grunt of pain at the sudden motion. 

“So good for me, Gobby.” Her voice came out hoarse, and her pupils were dilated by the pleasure of seeing him beneath her. Just as she said, she loved the sight of him taking her in, even when it was nothing more than her fingers. The way Gob’s mouth would fall open, his brows creasing together, jaw clenching and eyes closing so tightly in bliss, the sounds that spilled from his gravelly throat. Lone couldn’t get enough. But this? With the length and girth of her strap? Everything was so deliciously amplified. 

As she felt Gob’s tense body begin to relax, his fists still clenched, but not quite as tight, teeth gritted, but grimace lessening, she pulled back a smidge, before pushing further forward. Lone rocked against him, slowly working the length of the strap into his ass as Gob moaned beneath her. Her hands were warm against his thighs and hips as she grabbed ahold of his body and helped him press further down onto her length. 

“Doing so well for me, almost there.” 

Gob groaned. 

Almost? I thought we were there two thrusts ago. 

His brows creased together firmly as her rubber length delved deeper than any fingers could reach, and she gave one final, definitive pulse until she was hilted inside him. 

“There you are. That was it, baby.” She leaned forward again, hands smoothing up and over the firmness of his chest as she laid a kiss to his tight lips. Gob’s teeth were still clenched with… well, not pain, but rather… discomfort, and he hardly managed to return the kiss before she pulled back again. 

“I told you you could take it all.” Lone whispered to him just before sitting up again. “You ready for me to move?” 

Gob took a deep breath, feeling some of the tension release in his clenched muscles, and he nodded to her. 

“Good boy.” She pulled her hips back, dragging the length of the strap out so slowly, but the friction against the sensitive walls of his ass was almost too much for him, even at this pace. “And don’t forget, baby. I wanna hear you.”   

He nodded to her, a moan escaping his mouth to prove that he would do as his partner asked.

At that, Lone pressed her hips forward, just as agonizingly slow, allowing him to feel every little ridge in the rubber cock as it delved back into his ass. Her hands stroked over his torso as she bottomed out again, lithe fingers moving up to stimulate the raised points on his chest. Lone pulled back again, thrusting back in a bit quicker, and continued with her rhythmic movements until she’d worked up a consistent pace. Gob grunted with each press into his depths, the rough head of the strap bumping something deep within him that set off sparks in his mind and behind his eyelids with each forceful touch. 

“Tell me how it feels, love.” 

Gob felt a cool hand brush over his burning cheek as her rhythm slowed to a more languid pace, and he heard himself unwittingly sighing in relief. 

“Feels different.” He managed between breaths. “So full, and when you–”

He cried out as she nudged at his prostate, his ass clenching tight at the strap as she ground her hips against him and made his legs shake from burning pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby. Just relax for me, give in to it.” One hand sunk lower, fingers dragging down his sweat-slicked torso until she reached his half-hard cock where it rested against his stomach. With another maddening pulse of her hips into that special spot, she began to teasingly run her fingers up the length of his member. 

Her stroking digits brought him to full hardness in no time at all, his pleasure spurred too with the drag and press of her strap as she lazily thrusted inside him. By the time she wrapped her fist around him and began to quickly pump over his cock with her lubed-up hand, Gob was bucking his hips and moaning unabashedly with each of his partner’s overwhelming touches. 

His lower half felt like burning hot coals, Lone’s movements stroking the flames upwards to lick at his belly and touch his chest while his cheeks heated from the flame’s proximity. Everything about her in this moment was invigorating, enlightening, even. 

She gave another forceful thrust inside him, and Gob choked, his breath seizing in his chest as every muscle suddenly clenched within him. He cried out a broken sound as her hand moved quickly over his hard cock, stroking furiously over him while her strap stayed buried in his ass. 

Just as his first bout of pleasure was subsiding, a new one built up just as rapidly, spilling over the edge as Lone’s hand wrapped firmly around the head of his cock, her thumb dragging over his sensitive slit until he was spurting cum over his stomach and shaking from relief and overstimulation. One orgasm spilled straight into the other, and Gob couldn’t even hear his own voice, as his body writhed on the mattress, hips bucking, hands clenching, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he was utterly overwhelmed by a cacophony of immense pleasure. 

The ghoul’s body trembled as his release finished washing over him, and when his eyes finally were able to open and focus, he was met with Lone’s soft smile and a look of pure adoration that damn near made him choke with emotion. 

She kissed him once, and as unprepared as he was for it, the feeling of her soft, reassuring lips on his was comforting, and he pressed forward before she pulled away. Carefully, Lone pulled her hips back, one hand holding his torso in place as the other gently guided the strap from his ass. 

“You did so well, baby.” She said after she removed the strap from her body, and settled down beside him on the mattress. “Did you like it?” 

He only nodded to her, not yet trusting his voice as he slowly came down from the cloud 9 she’d pushed him onto. 

“It sure looked like it.” She smiled, “I’ve never seen you like that before. You were beautiful, Gob.” 

His brows furrowed, and Gob found the presence of mind to turn his head to face her. 

Me… beautiful?

“Yes, you heard me right.” One of her soft hands reached forward, caressing his jaw and pulling him into another sweet kiss. “Beautiful. Mesmerizing. To see you come undone like that, I nearly came myself, just from the sight of you.” 

Gob snapped out of his fog at that, blinking rapidly to chase away the blur in his eyes. 

“Lone! What about you, how can I–?” 

“Gob, baby, no. You just rest, okay? I got everything I needed just from seeing you like that. Trust me.” 

She kissed him again, throwing one arm over his chest before scooting closer and settling her head in the crook of his shoulder. Gob smiled, his hand moving up to rub over Lone’s gently as he released another deep breath, just reveling in the care and closeness of his partner as she cuddled up beside him.

[embeanwrites]

I Need You! Butch DeLoria x Reader

TW: Butch curses

Masterlist

It had been two miserable weeks since she had shot Butch in the shoulder in order to slow him down from trying to stop her from going into the purifier. He should’ve been mad that she shot him, but it was a clean shot, just grazed his shoulder enough to stun him and buy her some time. She knew what she was doing. It made Butch think she had planned this all along. 

Why take him around the miserable wasteland if she was just going to fucking kill herself in the end? 

Butch wasn’t a patient man, but he stayed in her room at the Citadel. Hoping if he stared at her long enough, she’d wake up and tell him to take a fucking picture. 

He groaned and laid back in his uncomfortable chair. He had already counted the number of tiles on the ceiling at least a hundred times. Scribes came and went, urging him to get some air and warning him that she may not wake up. She never gave up on the wasteland, he sure as hell wasn’t going to give up on her. He only left to grab food and to take quick showers. He probably looked like utter shit. 

“You gotta wake up. I miss you so fucking much.” He whispered. 

It was as if his words held some sort of magic because for the first time she started shifting and groaning. Butch stood up so fast his chair hit the ground with a bang. Her eyes shot open as she blinked a bunch, her eyes straining to see what was happening. 

“Butch?” Her voice sounded as if her throat was made up of sandpaper, but to him it was the sweetest sound. He stood frozen looking at her.

“Fuck you.” He whispered, hoarsely. She smiled and laid her head back. 

“I’m sorry I shot you.” She whispered. 

“I thought you were fucking dead!” He shouted, she flinched at his words, but remained silent. She was stunned by his reaction. “You should’ve let me or someone else fucking go in there! Why are you so fucking adament about killing yourself! You’re not allowed to die on me! People fucking care about and need you! I need you, (Y/n)!” His voice cracked at the end. Two weeks of this bullshit piling up. He looked back at her, her eyes were watering and looking at her hands. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. “I had to do it for my dad. I had to, Butch.” Looking at her, he felt all the air deflate out of him. This is what he wanted, for her to come back to him and he immediately started yelling at her. He picked up his chair and sat as close to her as he could. He couldn’t look at her face, terrified she would be able to read him like an open book. 

“I was scared, nosebleed. I hadn’t been that scared since I first left the vault. I thought I was going to lose you.” She moved her hand to cup his jaw. 

“I’m here.” She whispered. He closed his eyes tightly. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” He nodded and she laughed. 

“What?” He snapped at her. 

“I missed you too.” She gently put her hand under his, brushing her thumb across his knuckles. “I am sorry. I want to promise I won’t do anything stupid again, but- “

“But we both know you’d break it within the next 24 hours.” Butch finally locked eyes with her and they both smiled. 

“I told you at Rivet City, I’m dangerous.” 

“Dangerously stupid.” She scoffed. 

“You told me to stop being a goody two shoes, DeLoria.” 

“Whatever, nosebleed.” Butch felt her squeeze his hand. 

“Thanks for staying with me.” Butch felt his throat tighten as she gently pulled him down to kiss his nose. “When I get out of here, we’re going straight home. I promised Gob I would tell him all about meeting Herbert Daring Dashwood.”

“God, nosebleed. Will you ever stop doing things for other people?” He scoffed. 

“You know the answer to that, DeLoria.” They both smiled, of course he knew the answer. He wanted to tease her some more, but she looked exhausted and he was just happy she was back. He stood up slowly and kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger as he started to whisper. 

“Get some sleep, nosebleed. We’ve got some long days ahead of us.”

[ghoul-foolery]

2024 Kink/Flufftober Master List

Kink prompts are in red // Fluff prompts are in blue

Day 1 - Bath Sex // Hancock x Nora

Day 2 - Just Friends // Hancock x Nora

Day 3 - Face Sitting // Cooper Howard x Lucy MacLean

Day 4 - Knifeplay // Hancock x Nate

Day 5 - 💀

Day 6 - Exhibitionism // Nate x Nora w/ Hancock

Day 7 - Threesome // Nate x Nora x Hancock

Day 8 - Hand job // Gob x Lone Wanderer

Day 9 - 💀

Day 10 - 💀

Day 11 - Drunk Confessions // Hancock x Nora

Day 12 - 💀

Day 13 - Snow Day // Hancock x Nora

Day 14 - "I've Got You" // Cooper Howard w/ Lucy MacLean

Day 15 - Cooking // Nora

Day 16 - Mutual Masturbation / Only One Bed // Hancock x Nora

Day 17 - 💀

Day 18 - Happy Birthday // Cooper Howard w/ Lucy MacLean

Day 19 - Jealousy // Hancock x Nora

Day 20 - 💀

Day 21 - Cuckold // Nate x Nora x Hancock

Day 22 - 💀

Day 23 - Rings // Hancock x Nora

Day 24 - Morning After // Cooper x Lucy & Hancock x Nora

Day 25 - 💀

Day 26 - 💀

Day 27 - Soulmate AU // Nate x Nora x Hancock

Day 28 - 💀

Day 29 - 💀

Day 30 - Roleplay // Hancock x Nora

Day 31 - Coffee Shop AU // Hancock x Nora

[pyrettawychwiggin]

The Iron Angel: The Tale of Maria Røntgen (A Fallout 3 Fanfiction) - Coming Soon!

(The following post is a handful of writing process notes for this project; depending on how the writing goes, some of these details may change going forward to better suit the story I'm telling.)

I've been re-playing Fallout 3 recently - amidst all the Fallout fever since the series came out; and one thing I love doing when playing story-driven games, is imagining a more fleshed-out story for my character based off of what happens throughout my playthrough.

So naturally, that's what I've been up to - and it is hitting me so much harder than I was expecting.

I've cried.

Like, actual tears.

I'm out here hurting my own feelings, and it gives me LIFE.

So, I figure maybe it's time to start sharing it.

I will likely have the first chapter be more of a series of flashes throughout her childhood leading up to the events the beginning of the game, so obviously, SPOILER ALERT.

Before I start posting full chapters, here's some info if you're curious as to what to expect from this fanficton.

About the Main Character

• The main character of this fanfiction is named Maria "The Lone Wanderer" Rőntgen.

• She has pasty, white skin, and a flat nose with deep blue eyes and jet black hair that she typically prefers to keep cut short.

• She's on the shorter side, standing at about 5'5". She's little stocky, and also quite soft with very little muscle, seeing as throughout her life in Vault 101, she's not been particularly active.

• I will likely be doing up some digital art of her in the near future.

• Much like her father, James, she relies greatly on her intelligence, charm and perception to get by, but she is a pretty great shot with rifles and shotguns seeing as how she learned fairly early how to shoot.

About the Story

Below, I will be discussing some more in-depth things, such as what character(s) she may be romantically involved with.

If you'd rather read the story and be surprised rather than knowing this ahead of time, I would advise skipping this blurb and waiting until the story starts getting posted. It's your call!

• This story does have a fair amount of a focus on romance, but keep in mind that not every chapter will focus on this. Some chapters really are just about Maria's personal journey throughout the storyline.

• While this fanfiction has a couple will-they-won't-they storylines, and various minor love interests, the main love interest for this story is Charon (trust me, I was just as surprised as you are at this - but you'll see how things get there throughout the story - this wasn't how I thought things were going to go when I first started playing).

• However, you may still see some moments involving Gob, Nova, Butch, Fawkes, Vance, Holly, etc.

• This fanfiction will have some 18+ scenes - however, these will only be viewable by my supporters on Ko-Fi & Patreon. This will ONLY apply to 18+ content, however; general romance will just be part of the base story.

• There is one point where the story comes to a head and may deviate into two branches; I could have decided to simply choose one, but I'm considering writing both of them.

To put it very simply - a very important character actually wound up dying unexpectedly in my playthrough, and for the sake of sticking to the events of my actual playthrough, I wrote the rest of the original storyline with the assumption that they truly died in that moment.

However, I'm considering, for the sake of my bleeding heart, to write another, you could say, alternative routing where this is not the case. You, the reader, could be free to decide which version you think is best.

Or maybe I'll just write whatever the hell I want; who the hell knows?

That's about it for now, folks - keep an eye out for more - I will be posting the chapters here, as well as on my Wattpad/Fanfiction accounts, but any behind-the-scenes, and writer's notes such as this one, will be posted here on my Tumblr, as well as on PSH's Ko-Fi/Patreon pages. Check out the links below if you're interested in any of that.

Thanks for tuning in, m'strudes! See you next time!

~ Pyretta Wychwiggin

[eeveevie]

loose lips

Rosie just wants to have a quiet night of studying, but that changes when she learns Butch is causing a ruckus at Moriarty's Saloon. After collecting him and taking him home, he says a lot more than he intended while under the influence.

Unprompted, but I’ve been sitting on this idea for a long while. I make reference to this in a few of my other one-shots since I go back and forth between pre-relationship and developing-relationship fics for these two. 

Butch DeLoria x Rosie Sheridan (Lone Wanderer)

3200 words | [read on Ao3]

Sitting upstairs in Craterside Supply, Rosie was immersed in her research, reading over the extensive notes she had taken after investigating the colony of mirelurks in the Anchorage Memorial. The work on the Wasteland Survival Guide was a welcome distraction, allowing her to keep her mind busy until the Brotherhood provided her with a solid lead on where to find a G.E.C.K. Moira had set up the private sanctuary in her shop a few months ago, more than happy to give the vault-dweller a quiet place to study. Even though Rosie had her own residence within Megaton, it was difficult to get any work done when she had Butch DeLoria as a housemate.

Ever since finding him in Rivet City, he’d been her constant companion—annoying and distracting at first, but gradually became someone she could rely on. He made an effort to be less of a jerk, owning up to the mistakes of his youth, and performing thoughtful gestures of kindness for her unprompted. Rosie wouldn’t admit it aloud, but it was nice having him around. The more she got to know him as her friend, the more she realized they had a lot in common. Unexpected from the boy who used to stick gum in her hair. Now, he watched her six with a loaded pistol and cooked her breakfast (sometimes—when he remembered to set an alarm, that is). She liked him—a lot more than she wanted to.

Rosie could hear Moira teasing her about the redness in her cheeks—little red potatoes—all dreamy-voiced as she expressed desires for the two to ‘circle up’ and have babies. Assuming by the order of things, it had to be Wasteland slang for marriage, which was horrifying for so many reasons. Maybe it was a bad idea to confide in her shopkeeper friend about her potential feelings for Butch. Now she’d never hear the end of it when all she wanted was peace and quiet.

Just as Rosie refocused on the lines in her journal, the metal door to the shop creaked open, disrupting her train of thought—descended from local crabs, I’d call them…

Moira’s chipper voice echoed downstairs. “You’re back so soon?”

Rosie glanced to her Pip-Boy to confirm it was past store hours. She grumbled to herself, wondering if Butch had gotten bored and decided to come collect her for a more fun activity—it wouldn’t be the first time. Distracting, she reminded herself, for completely different reasons than before. She didn’t want to parade around town with his arm slung around her shoulder—or did she?

“Ugh,” she groaned, hand sliding across her face and smudging her glasses. Rosie stood and leaned over the railing, prepared to reprimand her companion when she realized Butch wasn’t even the one standing in the doorway.

Mitch, Craterside Supply’s mercenary was disgruntled as ever, leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed. Moira paused from cleaning the countertop to look at him, giving him the full attention she gave anyone she talked to.

“It’s your night off, Mitch! Shouldn’t you be enjoying it instead of standing there like you always do?” she ended her sentence with an easy sounding laugh, something Rosie wished she could emulate.

The merc muttered something incoherently, lips set in a fine line when he regarded his employer. How the two got along was anybody’s guess. Rosie imagined it had something to do with the frequent exchange of caps—though, Moira’s glowing personality seemed to melt even the coldest of hearts.

“There’s a problem at Moriarty’s,” Mitch explained, briefly.

“Oh no!” the redhead exclaimed, more intensely than the mercenary expected. “Is everybody alright?”

Mitch let out a deep sigh and let his eyes roam to where Rosie was perched, silently eavesdropping on their conversation in clear view. She sheepishly backed away before stepping back, realizing it was a little late to pretend she hadn’t been listening. He gestured to her with a jutted-out thumb.

“It’s that other vault-kid you like so much,” he said, with just enough distain in his voice it verged on resentment. Rosie wanted to smile, thinking the mercenary was jealous of Moira’s affections towards the younger visitors. Her mind was preoccupied, however, when she realized he was talking about Butch. “That boy can’t hold his liquor. He’s no Jericho, but he’s still a rowdy drunk.”  

Rosie felt a rush of disappointment at the information. She had hoped that Butch would stop spending so much of his free time at the Megaton saloon, wasting his caps on alcohol. This behavior seemed like a step back in the wrong direction, backsliding into his old, rebellious ways. Maybe she was wrong to think that people could change—that Butch could change. Regardless of how tumultuous she felt at the moment, Rosie knew she couldn’t sit idly by. So much for staying in and studying.

“I’ll go,” she said as she descended the stairs. “Before something worse happens.”

Mitch smirked. “Moriarty already had him drink the moonshine, and we all know what’s in that.”

“Oh, my poor sweet potato,” Moira cooed, tilting her head to the side in a sympathetic gesture. Rosie pressed a hand to her mouth, trying not to retch at the thought—she’d heard the rumors—and sent a silent prayer, hoping they weren’t true on Butch’s behalf. Her shopkeeper friend looked at her. “Do you need any help?”

Rosie shook her head, doubting that either of them would be of any real assistance. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Moira. Thank you again.”

“You’re very welcome,” she replied with a bright grin. “Take care of widdle Butch, now, okay?”

Rosie could only nod and fled from the building before her friend could embarrass her with any suggestive comments or innuendo. The last thing she needed was for the mercenary to know about her unrequited crush.

Moriarty stood outside his establishment as Rosie approached, smoke in hand as he overlooked the night sky. He noticed her just as she made to slip by to the entrance, in no mood to want to speak to the surly man.

“Aye, if it isn’t Miss Sheridan,” he crooned, feigning pleasantries. “Here to collect yer loverboy?”  

She huffed, clenching her fingers into fists before relaxing. Better to kill him with kindness, she reminded herself. “I hope he hasn’t been too disruptive,” she said, forcing a smile.

“The boys’ entertaining, I’ll give ‘em that,” Moriarty replied. “See for yerself. May haf to hire ‘em for the bar—”

Rosie turned on her heel, tuning out his accented words as she pushed through the sturdy metal door to the bar. She rarely visited the saloon, and the stench of booze and nicotine overwhelmed her as soon as she crossed the threshold. Immediately she found who she was looking for, sitting at the bar with his back to her so all she could see was the Tunnel Snakes embroidery. Butch. He was hunched over the counter, empty beer bottles and glasses surrounding his frame. It had only been a few hours since she’d last seen him, but apparently he’d been busy.

“One—one mrr,” he slurred at Gob, who stared at him with a mix of pity and annoyance. “Jus one!”

The ghoul bartender sighed, shaking his head. “Kid, you ever hear of alcohol poisoning?”

“Wha-uh?”

Gob noticed Rosie standing in the entranceway and relaxed, though his expression became much more sympathetic. “Better sober up, unless you want to disappoint your best gal.”

Butch perked up, swiveling around in the barstool so fast that he nearly toppled out of the seat altogether. She rushed to steady him, wincing at how much heavier he seemed—maybe it was all the beer and whiskey. With one arm wrapped around his torso, she held him upright against the bar.

“Stitches!” he greeted, awkwardly slinging an arm around her shoulder and dragging her close for a sideways hug. “Here!”

She nodded, choosing to ignore him for the moment and glanced to Gob who was studying their exchange. “Did he drink all these?” she asked, pointing to the display bottles.

“Sure did,” Gob answered. “Would not stop talking about growing up in the vault, and then leaving the vault. Talked a lot about you, actually.”

Rosie blinked, her heartrate steadily increasing. “What?”

The bartender gave a dismissive shrug. “But then he started singing, which soured the mood.”

Despite herself, Rosie smiled, amused by the thought. Plus, he’d been talking about her—she didn’t know what about, and he’d been drinking—but that certainly made her emotions aflutter.

“You’re cute when you smile, Stitches,” Butch mumbled, head titled to the side as he stared up at her with a sideways, dreamy smile.

Rosie instantly felt her face flood with heat. Gob smirked at the two and all she desperately wanted was to get out of sight from him and Butch. Speechless, she fumbled through her skirt pockets for a handful of caps, placing them on the counter, implying it was for the mess and for any unpaid drinks. She tightened her hold around Butch’s waist, holding onto the arm wrapped around her shoulder as counter-balance as she hoisted him from the barstool.

Gob watched the two. “Got him?”

“Ssshe’s got me!” Butch answered for the both of them with a beaming grin.

Rosie clenched her teeth, sucking in a breath as she adjusted him again, nudging at his feet so he’d support the weight of his own legs. It was a futile effort, but she’d helped carry heavier people with her father down in the vault. She could help an inebriated Butch walk back to her house across town…maybe. Gob still moved from behind the bar to push open the front door to make her exit easier. Caught up in the moment, she offered him a passing remark.

“If you hear a loud crash, we’ve fallen from the rafters. Please send our bodies to Moira,” she instructed sardonically. “For science.” 

x ------- x

Butch was of no help in the journey across town. Rosie would’ve guessed he had fallen asleep if it weren’t for the occasional drag of his feet and giggle, followed by an incoherent stream of words. All the while, she couldn’t help but wonder what had led to his sorry state—why’d he chosen to drink so much in the first place. Rosie knew he had the penchant for it—a bad habit learned from his mother—she was naïve to think the pattern would drop now that he was on the surface. Thinking back to her medical training and knowledge on addictive personalities, it wasn’t always so easy. The best thing she could do was to be there for him—he had done the same for her when she went through the paces of the emotional trauma of her father’s death—maybe the Wasteland was finally getting to him. Regardless, she could be a supportive friend. Friends—that’s what they wanted to be, right?

What if she wanted more?

“Ugh.”

“Huh?”

Rosie ignored Butch’s confusion and pushed open the front door, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process.

“Good evening, Miss Sheridan,” Wadsworth greeted as soon as they entered her Megaton home. “Oh, and Mr. DeLoria, he appears to be incapacitated. Do you require assistance?”

Rosie nodded as she continued dragging his body along side hers towards the stairs. The robot-butler instantly floated over, gently sliding a metal appendage under his other arm to assist in carrying him up to the second floor.

“Do you need the bathroom?” Rosie asked him, repeating the question when Butch shook his head too quickly. “Are you sure?”

“I ain’t gonna hurl,” he assured, a whine in his voice.

She was more worried about him pissing his pants but wasn’t about to embarrass him (or herself) by stating the fact out loud. Wadsworth continued to help carry him to the smaller bedroom, depositing him on the edge of the mattress where he promptly flopped backwards, arms flung to the side.

“I shall fetch you some water!” the Mister Handy exclaimed, whizzing away to perform his task.

Rosie exhaled like she had been holding her breath since leaving Moriarty’s, wondering if her pulse would ever settle. She glanced over her shoulder to find Butch sprawled out on his bed, legs dangling off the edge and boots twitching against the metal flooring. It would’ve been an amusing sight, if he weren’t so intoxicated. With another sigh she approached, quietly sitting down next to him.

“I’m taking your boots off,” she explained, looking up at his face to see his eyes were closed.

He hummed in response. “Oh-kay.”

One, two clunky black combat boots fell to the floor with a clang, and Wadsworth returned with a bottle of purified water. After another whirl of his robotic arms, he left the room, leaving the two alone. Rosie tapped Butch on the knee with the bottle.

“Sit up,” she instructed, shaking him harder when he didn’t move. “You need to drink some water.”

Slowly, he lifted himself onto his elbows, head rolling like it contained bricks instead of a squishy brain—she wondered sometimes if that were actually the case. He pushed himself up and swayed close, lips quirked up in a smirk.

“He-llo.”

Rosie bit her tongue at the foul stench emanating from his mouth, wishing Wadsworth had brought bubblegum as well. Oh well—Butch could worry about his hygiene in the morning—no doubt his hair would be a mess too. She pushed the purified water into his hand and guided it to his mouth, sliding away only when he started to drink on his own. When it was empty and sitting on the nightstand, he began wriggling out of his leather jacket, only to get the sleeve stuck on his Pip-Boy, as expected. Rosie shifted around to help him, half-standing, half-kneeling on the bed as he almost resisted her help, until he noticed their compromising position. As soon as his Tunnel Snakes jacket and Pip-Boy laid discarded on the foot of the bed, he wrapped an arm around her waist, nearly knocking their heads together.

“If ya’ wanna get closer to me, that’s all you gotta say, girl,” he muttered, sending sparks across her skin.  

Impulsively, she pushed away, standing upright, almost falling backwards from how dizzy she felt. Butch looked up at her, steely eyes glazed over in mild confusion. She needed to set the situation straight immediately, before boundaries were crossed and feelings were hurt. Her feelings.

“That’s not what’s happening right now,” she spoke quickly, waving her hands.

He followed the movement of her fingers, and she wasn’t sure if he understood. The silence stretched on for too long, Butch staring at her with doe-eyes, the softest hint of a smile. Why wasn’t he saying anything? And why couldn’t she say anything back? Rosie thought about forfeiting and leaving him as he was when there was the most subtle change to his expression, brows furrowing as his eyes flickered across her face.

“I—I don’t feel so good,” he mumbled before falling backwards.

Rosie jumped into action, shifting his body so he was laying properly along the bed, repeatedly checking his vital signs to ensure he was only passing out from exhaustion and not acute liver poisoning. Eventually, she moved his jacket and Pip-Boy aside, pulling the blanket over his body so she could better tuck him in—if he got chills during the night, he’d appreciate the warmth. Just as she was pushing herself off the bed, Butch’s finger’s tightened around her wrist.

“Hey, don’t,” he murmured into the pillow, one eye peeked open. “Stay?”

Rosie was about to protest when he smiled, and her chest tightened with a kind of yearning she was only recently familiar with. She didn’t want to leave him, not now, not ever. Through the good, the bad and the drunkenly. Even if he didn’t feel the same way about her, romantically—she’d find a way to get over it—just as she’d done before in the vault. Without offering him an answer, she scooted towards the headboard, leaning her back against it and stretching her legs along the sheets next to his body. Butch eyed her, but he surprisingly didn’t make a snarky remark about her choosing not to snuggle up close. Instead, he lifted his head and plopped it right into her lap, hooking his arm loose around her legs.

More silence fell over them, more quiet that Rosie didn’t know what to do with. She didn’t know where to put her hands, wringing them awkwardly by her chest as she studied Butch’s profile. His eyes were closed, usually coifed hair now a wavy mess hanging down his forehead. Hesitantly, she rested her fingers there, pushing back the black strands, studying the faint constellation of freckles she’d never noticed before dotted across his skin. When she noticed his smile increase she repeated her movements, steadily combing her fingers through his hair and across his scalp in a calming motion that reminded her of being cradled as a toddler in her father’s arms. This was far more intimate, however.

“Love you Rosie,” he mumbled into the fabric of her skirt.

She froze immediately, staring at his face wide-eyed and frantic. What? What? Her heart seized to beat for a second before fluttering to life so rapidly, it felt like she was going to have a stroke. He had to be drunk still, or she had to be dreaming. Or both. Maybe she was inebriated. As the thoughts swirled in her head, sending her into a panic, Butch continued, unaware of her stunned reaction.

“You’re my best friend.”

Oh.

Rosie swallowed the lump in her throat, but only found herself conflicted. So it wasn’t romantic love, but…platonic? That was still one hell of a confession, coming from Butch, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t letdown. Even with all the sudden fear that settled over her, it didn’t compare to the disappointment she felt now. Though, it wasn’t the first time she’d had unrequited feelings, and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last. That didn’t mean she was about to throw away a friendship forged from a rocky past.

Butch hugged her knees a little tighter. “You’re all I got left, ya’ know? The only one who’d take care of a sad sack like me.”

Rosie smiled, brushing her thumb across his forehead in an affectionate sweep. Completely unsure of what to say, or how to respond, she hoped it was enough. She was sure that he would’ve never said these things to her sober, anyways. If she said anything now, he wouldn’t remember, so it was better to enjoy the moment while it lasted. As soon as he was asleep, she would sneak away and decompress in her own room, try to sort through the emotional weight of it all. She decided that if he didn’t recall tonight in the morning, she’d not bother with bringing it up to him again—no need to embarrass him—even if she’d remember it forever. Rosie thought about what he said, realizing it was true. Butch was all she had.

Maybe one day, she’d tell him too.