#fallout x reader

[dus-dus]

Guys im kinda tired of the older man x younger girlfriend trope 😭 not every fanfic with a gruff older guy has to have a young or naive coquette girlfriend 💔💔💔💔💔

I say this because I want some variety with my favorite characters 😔✌️

[deadmansdarling]

Not alone anymore

Cooper Howard/The ghoul x reader

Fluff

Summary: You’re afraid of the dark and Cooper’s there to comfort you.

Note: Sorry for not posting in a while!!! Been working on this idea for a while now. Hope you’ll enjoy some fluffy comfort!

The fire had burned down to embers hours ago.

Out here, the night didn’t just fall, it swallowed. No city glow, no distant headlights, nothing but a heavy, suffocating dark that pressed in from every direction. The kind that made every sound sharper, every shadow feel alive.

You were lying stiff on your bedroll, eyes wide open, staring into nothing. Trying not to breathe too loud. Trying not to think.

It was stupid. You knew it was stupid. You’d survived worse than the dark, raiders, hunger, the endless stretch of wasteland, but none of that crawled under your skin quite like this. The silence. The way your mind filled it for you.

A twig snapped somewhere in the distance. Your heart lurched.

“Christ,” a voice muttered from across the camp. “You plannin on breathin like that all night, or you gonna knock it off?”

You froze. Of course he noticed. Cooper shifted where he sat, the faint glow of his cigarette briefly illuminating the sharp angles of his face before fading again. Even in near total darkness, he looked like he belonged to it, calm, unbothered, like the wasteland had carved him into something that didn’t fear anything anymore.

Unlike you.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t apologize. Just sleep.”

Easy for him to say. You turned onto your side, pulling the thin blanket tighter around yourself. Closing your eyes only made it worse. Shapes formed behind your eyelids, imagined movement just out of reach. Every rustle of wind through dead brush sounded like footsteps creeping closer.

Another crack. Your fingers curled into the fabric beneath you.

“Y’hear that?” you whispered before you could stop yourself. A beat of silence. Then a low, unimpressed sigh. “Yeah. It’s called the wind.”

“It didn’t sound like—”

“It’s the wind.”

His tone wasn’t cruel, exactly. Just… hard. Like he didn’t have the patience for things that couldn’t kill you.

You swallowed, heat creeping up your neck despite the cold.

“Right.”

Silence settled again. You tried. You really did. Counted breaths. Shifted positions. Told yourself over and over that nothing was there.

But the dark didn’t go away. And neither did the feeling.

Minutes dragged into what felt like hours. Your body stayed tense, refusing to relax, like if you let your guard down even a little something would. You sat up suddenly, breath catching.

“Okay, no, I can’t—”

“Jesus,” Cooper muttered, sharper this time. “What now?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.”

Your hands clenched in your lap. “It’s too dark.”

That earned a pause. You couldn’t see his face, but you felt the shift. The way his attention sharpened.

“…Too dark,” he repeated.

“I know how it sounds,” you said quickly, voice tight. “It’s dumb, I just—” You exhaled shakily. “I don’t like it. Never have.”

For a second, you expected him to laugh. Or snap. Or tell you to get over it. Instead, there was just quiet.

A softer sound followed, the faint crunch of boots against dirt.

You looked up as he moved closer, the ember of his cigarette briefly lighting his features again. His expression wasn’t mocking. Just thoughtful in a way you weren’t used to seeing on him.

He crouched down near your bedroll.

“Why didn’t you say that earlier?” he asked.

You blinked. “You didn’t exactly seem like you wanted to hear it.”

A huff of something that might’ve been a laugh escaped him. “Yeah. Fair.”

He flicked the cigarette aside, grinding it into the dirt before reaching for his bag. You watched, confused, as he rummaged around for a moment before pulling something out.

A small lantern

Your breath caught slightly as he lit it, a soft golden glow blooming between you. It wasn’t bright, barely more than a halo of light, but it pushed the darkness back just enough.

Your shoulders dropped before you could stop them. Cooper noticed.

“Better?” he asked.

You nodded, a little embarrassed. “Yeah.”

He didn’t comment on it. Just sat back on his heels, studying you for a second longer than necessary.

“You ain’t gotta tough everything out,” he said finally. “Not all the time.”

That surprised you more than anything else.

“You do,” you pointed out.

He smirked faintly. “Yeah. And look how that turned out.”

There was something in his voice, something tired, something honest, that made your chest ache a little.

You shifted on your bedroll, the tension slowly draining from your body now that the crushing dark had softened into something manageable.

“Are you… gonna stay there?” you asked quietly.

He glanced at you. “You need me to?”

You hesitated.

“…Maybe.”

Another pause. Then, with a quiet sigh, he settled down beside the lantern, back resting against a nearby rock. Not close enough to crowd you, but close enough that you could hear him breathe, steady and grounded.

“Get some sleep,” he murmured.

This time, when you laid back down, it came easier.

The light flickered gently, shadows dancing instead of looming. The sounds of the wasteland didn’t feel quite as sharp, not with him there, solid, real, keeping watch even if he pretended he wasn’t.

Your eyes drifted closed. Just before sleep finally took you, you heard him shift slightly. And then, softer than you’d ever heard him, ”I got you. Ain’t nothing out there that’s gonna get past me.”

The lantern burned low, its soft glow flickering against the ground, just enough to keep the darkness from closing in completely.

You hadn’t realized when you’d drifted off.

Only that when you woke again, it was to the same quiet night, but something felt different.

Your fingers twitched against the blanket, reaching instinctively before your eyes even opened. The space beside you fel empty. The faint sense of safety you’d fallen asleep with had shifted just enough to pull you halfway back into that creeping unease.

You inhaled sharply, blinking into the dim light. Cooper was still there, but not as close.

He’d shifted sometime during the night, sitting a little further off, head tipped back against the rock, eyes closed. Not fully asleep, you doubted he ever let himself do that, but far enough that the space between you felt bigger.

The shadows stretched further now. Your chest tightened.

“…Cooper?” Your voice came out quieter than you meant.

One eye cracked open almost instantly.

“Yeah?” Rough. Sleep heavy, but alert in a second.

You hesitated, suddenly feeling stupid again. “Can you… not sit so far?”

You hated being vulnerable. For a moment, he just looked at you.

You braced yourself for the usual, some sharp comment, a dry remark about how you needed to get used to things.

Instead, he exhaled slowly, pushing himself up without a word.

Boots scraped softly against the dirt as he moved closer again, stopping just at the edge of your bedroll.

“Closer than that?” he asked, quieter this time.

You swallowed.

“…Yeah.”

Then he crouched, one knee pressing into the ground as he leaned down slightly, studying your face like he was trying to figure something out.

“You’re really that scared of it, huh?” he murmured.

You nodded, eyes flicking toward the dark beyond the lantern’s reach. “I know nothing’s there. It just… feels like something is.”

He followed your gaze for a second, then looked back at you.

“…Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I get that.”

That caught you off guard.

Before you could ask, he shifted again, this time not stopping at the edge of your space. He lowered himself down beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him through the thin layers between you.

Your breath hitched slightly.

Cooper didn’t make a big deal out of it. Didn’t comment. Just adjusted until he was lying on his side, one arm braced beneath his head, facing you.

“There,” he muttered. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

The words settled something in your chest almost instantly.

But still… you hesitated.

“Can I…?” you started, then trailed off, unsure how to even ask.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Use your words.”

You huffed a little breath, nerves twisting. “Can I be… closer?”

For a split second, he just stared at you.

Then something in his expression softened, just a fraction.

“C’mere,” he said, voice low.

That was all the permission you needed.

You shifted closer, tentative at first, like you were half-expecting him to pull away. But he didn’t. When your shoulder brushed his chest, when your hand lightly caught onto the fabric of his shirt, he stayed.

After a moment, his arm moved.

It came around you, settling across your back, pulling you just a little closer, firm enough to be grounding, but not tight. Not trapping. Like he was making sure you knew you could still move if you needed to.

Your breath stuttered.

“…This okay?” he asked, quieter than before.

You nodded against him. “Yeah.”

And it was. More than okay.

The warmth, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the solid weight of his arm, it all pushed the dark further away than the lantern ever could.

You relaxed into him without thinking, your grip on his shirt loosening as your body finally let go of that constant tension.

For a while, neither of you said anything.

Just the quiet night. The faint crackle of the lantern. The distant whisper of wind.

Then, after a few minutes, his hand shifted slightly against your back, almost absentminded, like he wasn’t even fully aware of it. A slow, subtle movement. Not quite a rub, not quite still.

“You always like this?” he asked softly.

“In the dark?” you murmured.

“Yeah.”

“…Yeah.”

A pause.

“Didn’t have anyone to… fix it before.”

His arm tightened just a fraction at that.

“Yeah,” he said again, but it sounded different this time. Like something caught in his throat.

You didn’t push. Didn’t ask.

Just settled closer, your head tucking more comfortably against him.

After a while, your breathing evened out again, sleep slowly creeping back in, this time without the sharp edges, without the constant pull of fear.

Just warmth. Just him.

Right before you drifted off completely, you felt his chin rest lightly against the top of your head.

And heard, barely above a whisper,

“Ain’t gotta deal with it alone anymore.”

This time, sleep took you easily.

Taglist

@morphoportis @carnationcreation @mswarriorbabe80 @finalgrlfantasy @ahhhhh23455564hhh566233 @calpalsbestie

[cobbleobelisk]

arcade gannon x m!courier

synopsis: arcade gets jealous after finding out that his boyfriend had gotten treated by another doctor. doctor alex richards, to be exact.

warnings: none! courier is just very VERY dense

a/n: i've had this idea in my head for a while now, i just havent had the motivation to write it but i had to write the people's favorite gayboy for pride...

Arcade doesn't consider himself to be a jealous lover--in fact, he prides himself on being the opposite, providing his lover with the freedom that they so desire--but today, that all changes. Why? Because of you.

Unfortunately, it seems that you have a type. That type? The gay wasteland doctor. You, in all your travels, have dated both of the doctors in the wasteland that just so happen to be gay.

Now, normally, Arcade wouldn't care if you got checked out by some other doctor. Hey, that's less work for him, and more pretending to work with plants, but something about getting told that you'd been treated by the very man who not-so-secretly still has a thing for you got under his skin. Who can blame him, right?

What's even worse is that you don't seem to see the problem.

He'd been a bit short with you for a few days, but you keep whining and whining, practically begging for any attention he could spare, asking why he's been so upset lately, not realizing that you're the problem! Arcade's at his wit's end with you, but he doesn't want to be vocal about why he's upset. So instead, he sasses you. Without even looking up from his work desk, he huffs, "why don't you go ask Alex for attention? Since you two seem so close now," he grumbles stiffly. If you don't understand that he's jealous after that, you're a lost cause.

You huff, still pestering Arcade, before it finally dawns on you that he's jealous. Idiot. Of course, at this discovery of yours, you're working extra hard to get back on Arcade's good side.

Whenever you both have free time, you know better than to disturb him when he's actually doing something you're clinging to him. Despite how he grumbles about how you're being too clingy, he enjoys it, given that he's not pushing you away.

His complaints always go something like:

"Ugh, Six, you reek, I'm begging you to shower," Arcade groans, playfully swatting you away when you wrap your arms around him after returning from some odd job you'd picked up to help out around the Fort.

"I would shower, but you're still mad at me, so I need to be sorry before I need to be clean," you retort with a huff, burying your face in the crook of his neck, your usual spot.

At some point, you can tell that he's gotten over his jealousy, but is just milking it so he can get more affection from you. That doesn't deter you from giving him affection. In fact, you give him more now. Every time you have the chance, you're touching him.

He's lazing on your couch? You're draped on top of him, even though it's hot. You're walking by him? You're smacking his ass, despite his protests that he needs to be "professional," whatever that means.

Soon enough, Arcade gets bored of pretending to still be mad at you, and stops huffing at you completely. He doesn't say anything about it, and if you decide to mention it, he's going to make some comment along the lines of:

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want me to still be upset? Because that can be arranged."

After you'd made the mistake of commenting a few times, you'd learned your lesson.

[blog182844848473]

If you are reading this please write and post Vulpes fanfiction

[deadmansdarling]

One spot

Cooper Howard/The ghoul x reader

One-shot

Summary: Stuck in close quarters with Cooper, tension runs high, especially when you can’t stop thinking about how easily he gets what he wants.

Hi guysss!! Sorry for not being active for a while!!! Hope you’ll like this oneshot! I’m planing on posting more this summer!!!!

The place barely qualifies as shelter.

Half a roof. One intact wall. Just enough to keep the worst of the wind out, and not much else.

“Not a lot of space,” you mutter, stepping inside and glancing around.

Behind you, Cooper huffs quietly. “Ain’t a lot of options either.”

You turn, folding your arms. “Then you can take outside.”

He tips his head slightly, unimpressed. “Yeah, that’s not happenin’.”

“Thought you liked roughing it.”

“I like surviving,” he corrects. “Difference.”

Your jaw tightens.

You both look at the same spot at the same time.

A narrow stretch of relatively clean ground, tucked near the wall. Just enough space for one person to lie down comfortably.

Two, if they don’t mind, you look away immediately.

“No,” you say.

He lets out a low breath, something close to a laugh. “You saying that like you got a better idea.”

“I do,” you reply. “You stay over there. I stay here.”

“That ‘over there’ is a pile of rusted scrap.”

“Sounds like your kind of bed.”

He smirks faintly at that, eyes flicking over you in a way that makes something tighten in your chest. “You always this welcoming?”

“Only when I’m forced to travel with someone I don’t like.”

“Yeah?” he says, stepping closer. “Coulda fooled me.”

Your eyes narrow. “Don’t start.”

“I ain’t started anything.”

“You’re always starting something.”

“Only when it gets me what I want.”

And just like that, your mind drags you back.

5 hours earlier

“Not a chance,” you say, tightening your grip on the bag.

Cooper leans casually against the counter, like he’s got all the time in the world, even though the place is barely standing and the trader looks like he’d shoot first if things go wrong.

“You’re asking too much,” you add.

“I ain’t asking,” he replies smoothly. “I’m negotiatin’.”

You scoff. “That’s not negotiating.”

“It is if you’re listening.”

You glance at the trader, still watching, still waiting, then back at Cooper.

“You don’t even need it,” you mutter.

He shrugs. “Maybe not.”

“Then why—”

“Because you do.”

You freeze slightly, just for a second.

His smirk shifts, less cocky now, more… intentional.

“You really gonna walk away from this?” he murmurs, just low enough that only you hear it. “After all that?”

You hate that he’s right. Hate that he knows it.

“…You’re insufferable,” you mutter.

“Yeah,” he says. “But I get results.”

You ended up with the Rad-X. Not because of anything you said. Not because of any deal you made. But because of him.

You leaned back slightly, arms crossed, watching from the side as Cooper rested an elbow against the counter like he had nowhere else to be, his posture loose, almost lazy.

“Now, I’m just sayin’,” he drawled, voice smooth in a way that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing, “you got yourself a real nice setup here.”

The trader, a woman with sharp eyes and a sharper grin, tilted her head, clearly not immune to it. “Flattery ain’t gonna lower my prices.”

“Wasn’t trying to,” he said easily, flashing just enough of a smile to make it look effortless. “Just calling it like I see it.”

You rolled your eyes slightly, shifting your weight. Of course. Of course he’d do this.

They went back and forth for a bit, but it wasn’t really negotiating. It was something else. Something slower. More deliberate.

He leaned in just a little closer at one point, voice dropping, saying something you didn’t quite catch, but the way she laughed after told you everything you needed to know.

Your stomach twisted. You looked away. Well, tried to. But your gaze kept flicking back.

The way he talked. The way he held eye contact just a second longer than needed. The way he made it all look so easy, like he wasn’t trying at all, like it was just who he was.

It was irritating. It was ridiculous. It was… you exhaled quietly, jaw tightening.

“…Alright,” the trader finally said, sliding the Rad-X across the counter. “But just this once.”

“Appreciate it, sweetheart.” Cooper replied, picking it up like it was nothing.

Like he hadn’t just shifted the entire situation in his favor.

He glanced at you after, brief and knowing. Like he was waiting for something. A reaction.

You scoffed, turning away before he could get one.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath.

“Got what we needed, didn’t we?” he said, stepping up beside you.

“Yeah,” you replied flatly. “By flirting your way through it.”

He huffed something close to a laugh. “If it works, it works.”

You shook your head, pushing past him. “It’s cheap.”

“Didn’t hear you complainin’ when you needed it.”

“I’m not complain—” you cut yourself off, jaw tightening again. “…I just wouldn’t do it like that.”

“Yeah,” he said, tone just a little too knowing. “I know.”

You didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust him. Didn’t trust how easily he could slide into something like that, how natural it looked.

And you definitely didn’t trust the way part of you, just for a second, found it a little too easy to watch.

——

“Problem?”

His voice pulls you back.

You blink, refocusing on the present, on him standing too close again, watching you like he’s waiting for something.

“Just thinking,” you say.

“Dangerous habit.”

“Yeah,” you reply dryly. “You should try it sometime.”

He chuckles under his breath. You hate that sound.

The wind picks up outside, pushing dust through the broken doorway, a reminder that staying out there isn’t an option.

You look at the space again. Then at him. Then back.

“…Fine,” you mutter.

His brow lifts slightly. “That easy?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You lie down first. Back to the wall. Facing away. Creating as much space as possible. Which… isn’t much.

You hear him move behind you, the shift of fabric, the quiet thud as he settles in.

You can feel the heat of him through the space between you, barely there, but enough to be impossible to ignore.

You stare straight ahead. Don’t move. Don’t react.

“Relax,” he murmurs after a moment.

“I am relaxed.”

“You look like you’re about to bolt.”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Not much room for that.”

You grit your teeth. “If you move any closer—”

“I ain’t movin’.”

That’s the problem.

Silence settles. But it’s not quiet. It’s full of awareness. Of tension. Of everything you’re trying not to acknowledge. You shift slightly. Just to get comfortable. Your leg brushes his.

You freeze. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t comment. But you can feel it, the way he goes just slightly still.

“Accident,” you mutter.

“Didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“You were thinking it.”

“I think a lotta things.”

“Keep them to yourself.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

You exhale slowly, trying to ignore the way your body refuses to settle, hyper aware of every inch of space between you. Or lack of it.

“You always this tense?” he asks quietly.

You don’t answer. Because if you do, it’ll come out wrong. Or too honest. Or both.

“…You’re not,” he adds after a moment.

That makes you frown slightly. “Not what.”

“Not someone who lets people get that close.”

Your chest tightens. You turn your head just enough to look at him over your shoulder. He’s already looking at you.

“You don’t know me that well,” you say.

“Don’t I?”

Your breath catches slightly. And you hate that it does. For a second, neither of you moves. Doesn’t speak.

Then you turn away again, pulling the thin blanket tighter around yourself like it’ll fix the space between you. Like it’ll fix anything.

“…Get some sleep,” he mutters after a moment.

You huff quietly. “You first.”

“I don’t sleep much.”

“Yeah. I noticed.”

Another pause.

“You trust me enough to do this, though.”

Your grip tightens slightly.

“Don’t push it.”

He doesn’t respond. But you can feel it, the faint shift, the smallest movement as he settles in just a little more.

You don’t move away. And sometime between trying not to think about it, and failing, sleep finally pulls you under. With him still there.

Too close. And not nearly far enough.

Taglist

@morphoportis @carnationcreation @mswarriorbabe80 @finalgrlfantasy @ahhhhh23455564hhh566233 @calpalsbestie

[nagimilk]

butch deloria x fem!reader like 1.8k words or smth they be dry humping idk lissen a diff take on butch where he likes the wanderer, like he’s down bad, and is also a virgin. idk what else to tell ya, if it’s not your cup of tea when it comes to butch, then that’s okay! also sry for shitty ending, i, uhh, didn’t know what to do w it! also can you tell i haven’t played the game in 84 yrs. and this might not get notes and i am a-okay w that! i just wanted to write for butchie boy

rough hands drag down your sides, lips mapping out a path downward, his breath washing shakily over your skin. it’s not his intention for his touch to be so rough, but the world you live in now is not kind, butch had to learn quickly when he left the vault, and it left him with more than enough scars.

a soft, almost imperceptible sound leaves your lips, and butch’s eyes snap open. (when had he closed them?) his gaze drifts upwards, locking onto your face. those soft, soft, soft lips of yours are parted, head rolled to the side, eyes glassy as you stare down at him.

his hands settle on your hips, long fingers sinking into your flesh, adjusting you slightly on the old, worn out bed.

you’re warm. impossibly so. it has butch’s eyes slipping closed once more, lips pressing against your lower stomach to hear that sweet sound again. goosebumps rise along your flesh, a noise catches in butch’s throat when he feels sudden movement, then your fingers threading through his hair.

he’s not sure if you’ve done this, but the farthest he’s gotten since being out in the wasteland is having his dick sucked by a traveler passing through. butch didn’t get a chance to do much with her, truly he tried, but he was clumsy. and she was looking for a good, experienced time before taking her leave. at least he wasn’t left high and dry.

he never thought he’d see you again if he’s being honest. let alone join you on your mission and as someone you trusted.

despite how he treated you growing up in the vault, you still helped him when his mother was in danger and continued to speak to him when you returned. and now—now here you are, laid out on your bed in your house in megaton, partially undressed beneath him, making the softest, most addicting noises he’s ever heard, and he’s hardly done anything.

his fingers slip under the edges of your panties, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin, tracing the crease of your thighs while he places kisses to your covered mound. he notes the way your hips twitch, the way you try to arch into his touches, certain ones making your thighs tense.

pulling back slightly, he meets your gaze again, his breath hitching when you press your hand flat to your stomach, fingers spreading wide. when your hand starts to shift downwards, he notices the wet patch on your panties. it makes him freeze for a moment, mouth dropping slightly, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips.

out of instinct to see more, his fingers bunch the fabric of your panties up and pull upwards, a groan tearing from his lips right as a choked moan slips from your mouth. the material clings to your lower lips, outlining your pussy. butch’s eyes zero in on the sight. he wants to see more, wants to see you soaked completely until he can see you through your panties.

butch talked big game before the two of you ended up in your bed, stating if you wanted to get closer, all you had to do was ask, but here, now—he wishes he did more with that traveler, wishes she would’ve been kind enough to show him the ropes. because all he wants to do is make you feel good, and he’s not sure he can do that when you have him a complete and utter mess on the inside seeing you laid out beneath him.

“i—” he swallows thickly, ready to speak, to say maybe the two of you had one too many to drink and shouldn’t do this.

“butch.”

his eyes dart from your slowly moving hand to your face, eyes searching yours. the expression you’re wearing is unreadable, eyes hooded as you watch him, and his fingers twist harder into the grip he still has on your panties, causing you to arch your hips up, seeking out friction.

“butch.” a gasp this time, your free hand darting out, reaching for him. reluctantly, he releases you, forearms bracketing your head, letting you tangle your fingers in his once styled hair, tugging on the strands to pull him into a series of deep kisses. he groans into the kiss, hands cupping your face, tilting your head back, his hips move on auto, jerking forward against your cunt, the rough material of his pants harsh on your pussy causing you to whimper.

there’s something about still being partially clothed while you’re in nothing but your panties that sets him off. his hips rock against yours, a moan forced from between your lips with every thrust. the hand between your bodies grips his hip to snake its way into the back of his pants, squeezing his ass while he ruts into you.

his cock is throbbing, leaking heavily, making a mess of his underwear. you’re being a tease beneath him, rolling your hips up as best you can to feel the drag of him against your cunt. if he listens closely, he swears he can hear the wet, slick sounds of your bodies meeting.

suddenly, you’re gripping his other hip, legs splaying open to allow him more space to grind against you. butch feels like he’ll explode if he doesn’t get to feel you soon. but at the same time, having you like this feels so raw and primal. the two of you, too impatient to properly undress, your hand sneaking toward the front of his pants, urging the fly open to feel his length through the thin material of his underwear.

the wet patch staining his underwear is growing larger the longer this goes on. his tip is drooling pre down his shaft, the milky substance bleeding through the fabric to smear along your own undergarments, mixing with your arousal, turning them completely see-through. with every roll of his hips, his cock drags along your clit, and butch can feel your knees draw up around him, trembling as he brings you close to the edge.

there’s no time for him to register that he’s pulled away from your mouth before his lips are dragging across your cheek, and smearing across your throat, kisses pressed hot into the flesh while he lets go of your face with one hand, reaching between where you’re connected to pull his underwear down far enough just to free his aching length.

the next thrust forward has him swearing out, wet, sticky hand returning to your face to bring your lips back together. the glide of his heavy, sensitive, bare cock against your barely clothed cunt has him nearly bursting right then and there. then your next words make him throb even harder, lips parting into a deep groan, cockhead catching and pushing against your entrance.

“n-need you to cum, butch,” you pant into his mouth, hands gripping his ass, and smoothing up and down his back before finally coming to settle over his shoulders, desperate to meet his thrusts, but the sheer force of him drives you into the bed with each punishing roll.

“yeah, doll?” his voice is hoarse, a sound he doesn’t recognize when your lips are centimeters apart, and this time through your heavy breathing, he can hear the slick, sloppy squelching of your bodies meeting, sliding over one another, as you seek out release in each other.

“y-yes, please.” you writhe beneath him, the broken whine that slips out from between your lips finally does him in, that last thread of his sanity snapping. he’s tried to keep things grounded and stay in control, but the way you feel beneath him, so perfect, arching up into him, desperately trying to help him reach his peak—-

it’s all too much, the slick, wet slide of your bodies together, the obscene sounds, the way your skin feels against his. it makes him feel like he’s being swallowed whole by you. your legs lock around his waist tighter, and in turn, he presses more of his weight into you.

any sense of being gentle gets thrown out the window the moment he feels that heaviness in his guts, his pace turns brutal, the friction hitting a point that tips him over. a groan, heavy and ragged tears through his chest, his cock throbs and pulses against your pussy, shot after shot of cum decorating your panties and between your clothed folds.

a full on shudder rolls through him, his eyes rolling so hard they begin to ache, vision doubling as you come back into view beneath him. harsh breaths wash over your cheek, lips sliding across the skin. burying his face into the dip of your neck, his arms wrap tight around your midsection, hips taking on a brutal pace as he draws out his release, tip catching on your clit, listening to the mewls and gasps escaping your lips.

butch is experiencing a state of bliss no drug or alcohol can ever compare to. he’s touched himself countless times, and as mentioned before, had that experience with the traveler, but nothing compares to what he’s feeling now. it feels like he’s weightless, floating in the air as euphoria floods his veins. next thing he knows, his lips are parting, tongue dragging across your pulse, teeth sinking into the skin, only to feel you lock up beneath him, your own release causing your legs to shake.

“b-butch,” you whimper, panting heavily enough that it causes him slight concern. his hips slow to a gentle roll, dragging along your cunt one final time before coming to a complete stop, a reluctant noise leaving butch as he leans up to get a look at your face.

“you okay?”

he was never one that could comfort others, but he doesn’t want to see you upset. especially because of him. but what he sees when he looks at you isn’t fear, or hurt. it’s lust, and something else. something else he can’t quite put a name to, and something he’s not sure he’s ready to explore yet. because if you’re looking at him like this, then how is he looking at you?

he doesn’t get to dwell on his thoughts long when you pull him in for a kiss, hands brushing through his hair softly. then you pull back, lips parting a fraction before he’s diving back in once more, returning your mouth’s gentle embrace. butch lets a hand travel down your side, squeezing at your flesh softly, swallowing down the sweet sounds you make.

there’s no telling what this’ll do to your relationship, he can only hope for the best possible outcome. he doesn’t think he wants to head back to his spot in rivet city any time soon.

[didireadthisright]

Could you ever do something about Fallout? Hardly anyone writes stories about it. —~—

I absolutely LOVE Fallout, so absolutely!

I've played a few of the games, watched the show, and watched so many lore videos about that world

Honeslty, if you have anything in mind, please just drop me a cheeky DM, or I'll eventually write a few things when I get to it, or if anyone sends in a request that I vibe with I'll probs make time for it :3

[deadmansdarling]

Planning on writing another Cooper Howard/the ghoul fic soon!!!

I can’t decided if I want to write something more sweet ot something more angstyyyyy😩

What do you guys think?

What ghoul x reader fic do you want???

Sweeeeeeeeet

Angstyyyyyyy

Voting ended onApr 28