#f!lone

Exhibitionism with Harold/Bob x F!Reader

I...

This... This needed to be like 5k words longer but I didn't have time for that so here's a snippet of a much larger idea than was meant for kinktober

Anyway though, Harold is a lovely, lovely man who made me feel so many sad things when I played FO3 as a kid. Ugh, he's SUCH a great character. Aaaaand... kinda challenging to write for, idea-wise 😅 ngl, but hopefully y'all love this one!

Maybe when I have spare time one day (😂😭) I'll return and add some more to this!

Here is the link to my  Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Exhibitionism (kinda sorta), kissing, confessions, fantasies, forbidden love, trees, wood, um... dry humping, self actualization. TW for suicidal thoughts!

Words: 3.8k

*note: Lone and Branchtender Cypress are the same person*

--

The newest branchtender had never been shy. 

Once you became privy to the freedoms that such a place as this could offer you, when you saw the green, when you met the one… Harold, his brilliance, his sacrifice, when you saw the legacy he would leave in his wake… How could you ever have left? 

You weren't coy about your feelings of appreciation for the Oasis deity, nor your want to help, and you certainly didn't shy away from ruffling some feathers, as it were.

It was among the many numerous things that he truly appreciated about you in return.

Harold’s eyes couldn’t shift too far from their allotted position, nestled frustratingly in Bob’s trunk as they were, but you always managed to make him wish– more zealously than usual– that he could move of his own accord. That he could… maybe, just sort of… touch you? 

Yes, he’d like that very much. 

It’d been years since Harold felt another person, since someone reached out to touch him in earnest. Even Bob hadn’t felt the prod of a hand recently, since the rules had changed, since the people had caught wind of Harold's more recent… thoughts. 

Maybe I wouldn’t want to be gone if there were more who treated me like you do.

Like a person. 

He remembered distinctly the first time the two of you met, when you’d told him why you wanted to become a branchtender, when you had to convince him to let you into Oasis permanently. It hadn’t taken much, no, because when you reached out and shook his branch like it was his hand, when you looked him in the eye and smiled your broad smile, it brought back memories of genuine personhood that he hadn't felt since... what, a hundred years or so ago? Even when your touch lingered for a moment, even when Tree Father Birch had told you not to, when Harold knew how the others feared to touch him, that they might hinder his spread, or expand it– depending on who you asked-- even through all of that uncertainty, you'd only pulled away when Harold had said it was alright.

You held no such notions as the others, no such fear, apparently. Especially not now. 

Harold knew you weren’t popular among the Treeminders, the Branchtenders, even the Bloomseer wished not to permit you in Harold’s grove. But he favored you, that much was clear to everyone in Oasis. 

“I can speak to the others…” You told him, sitting on the root structure that was once his arm, gazing upon his face without flinching. 

You never flinched away from his visage, nor did you altogether refuse to look upon his face, as a few of the Oasis-goers had decided was respectful. 

To him it was… How could it not be dehumanizing?

“Maybe get them to lighten up. To see you like I do, Harold. Then you wouldn’t be alone in here so often, maybe they could even… I don’t know, touch you? L-like I did that first time, you know?” 

Harold hummed, his eyes downcast. 

“I have you.” He said, quietly. Undecided if he wanted to say it aloud at all, but sometimes Bob shoved the thoughts right out so they wouldn't take up space. 

At least, he thought it was Bob doing that. 

“Yes.” You said, and your hand rubbed over a knot in his bark– Bob’s bark. “But am I enough? I can’t… Harold, I can’t be all that’s making you want to, well, you know… Stay here.” 

“But you are. Now.” 

He saw your lip give a small tremble, before you hid it with a grin. Your eyes though… they still held that sadness. 

“That’s sweet, but it's not healthy, Harold. There needs to be more.” 

He made a pouty sound at that. 

Says who?

It was nice to have even one thing to stick around here for. Couldn’t you see that? That you already did the impossible?

“I want to know something.” Your soft voice prompted him, just as one small hand reached to brush over the bark that was once his cheek. You had to strain your arm to do it, had to sit all the way up, but oh, how he wished with everything he had that he could lean into it, feel beyond what Bob allowed him to of your soft hand. 

“Hm?” 

“Tree Father and Tree Mother, they both have these ideas of what we should do with you, how we should... use you and Bob’s resources to either change the wasteland or to keep you and us safe and secret.”

He tried nodding in understanding, but all he could manipulate were his eyes. 

It didn't have the same effect, he feared.

“Well…" You continued, "They keep talking about what to do with you, like you’re… a resource and not a person.” 

“I know.” 

“Well, frankly, that’s shitty.” 

He rumbled out a laugh, feeling Bob’s topmost branches tremble slightly with the action. 

“Harold.” You said his name so sweetly, softly, like friends speak to each other, like… Like he imagined he’d want to speak to the people he loved. If he’d ever had those. 

It was hard to remember. 

“Hon, what do you want?” Your hand was still firmly on his cheek. He could feel heat permeating the layer of bark there. “I know you sort of told me the day we met, but… It seems like that’s– maybe, that’s changed?” 

“Yes.” He said, with a decisiveness he didn’t intend, but was there all the same. “It has changed. Now… The others, they can do what they please with me and Bob.”

“But–” You tried, pulling your hand away like he’d prodded you with a thorn. 

“I want you.” He finished, that decisiveness never wavering, though… despite the certainty, it did surprise him.

Never… confessed anything like this before. Not to anyone. 

That… well, that I can remember.  

Your expression stayed soft, safe, non judgmental, non accusatory, as your eyes darted back and forth, ensuring there was truth in both of his before speaking your response. 

“Harold… You’re not just saying this… Well, because I’m the only one who speaks to you like this, right? I don’t want this– these feelings you’re telling me you have, to just come from my being nice to you. That’s not fair either.” 

You held eye contact with him all the while, genuine sympathy and curiosity shining there. 

How could you think his feelings were just… by default? 

To him, anyway, it was obvious. 

Other Treeminders, branchtenders, had loved him before, been kind to him, revered him, even. But always because of Bob. What Bob allowed him to become, and maybe… maybe that’s what had drawn you to him at first as well, but now… It was Harold you stayed for, wasn’t it?

With the way you spoke his name, looked into his eyes, asked him about his wants, his needs… how could it not be him?

“Weeks.” He said, and you cocked your head slightly. 

He couldn’t help his hard-to-read grin. 

“We’ve been talking all that time. You’re interesting, kind, see me as human, yes. But more.” 

“More?” You urged him, and Harold couldn’t dream of denying you. 

“See me as a human you can connect to. We talk about many things, and all of them are interesting, so many things we have in common. Even with our… differences.” 

A small smile glowed in your eyes , and softened your expression further. Harold’s gaze never wavered, though you knew the words left him with effort, both physical and emotional.

“I want you so I may talk with you, to have your company.” 

“You will.” You answered so hastily, even tilting forward from where you sat in the curve of what used to be his right arm, almost toppling out of it. 

He tried to catch you, but Bob held firm to his limbs. As he always did. 

With you, he could almost forget. 

“You will, Harold.” You saved yourself from falling, bracing your arm against the main section of his trunk. “I’m not going anywhere, I… I love talking to you, too.” 

Maybe to save face from falling off of him, or maybe because you just wanted to, you wrapped your hands around his trunk– Bob’s– and hugged him, just beneath his face. 

Bark creaked and branches rustled as Harold made an effort to reach back, to drop his chin to rest on your shoulder, to bring one arm around your body, to lean into your touch, but Bob halted him. 

Harold felt he could scream at the opposition, but… he couldn’t startle you with his frustrations. Instead, he sat in silence, savoring what he could of your touch, relishing in the mere thought that you were doing this at all. Sharing your warmth with him, making the effort to show how you cared, disobeying everything his other keepers in Oasis would have told you just to show him you wanted to feel him against you. 

“Wish that I could return this favor.” He said, instead of crying out his frustrations with Bob to you. Like you hadn’t heard that complaint a thousand times already. 

“Hmm?” You asked without removing yourself. 

“Wish, Lone, that I could… touch you.” 

“Bob won’t let you, huh?” Now you pulled back, just enough so he could look upon your face. 

“Afraid not. He… I’m constrained by him. No matter how I try.” 

“Well… um, can I…?”

Harold blinked as you trailed off suggestively. If it were possible, his mouth would be running dry right about then. 

“Can I talk to Bob?” You finished, and a somber sort of relief washed over him. 

Harold couldn’t answer you at first. His brows furrowed, and in his mind, he tried to reach out, to find anything but the pulsing wordless communications that Bob always released, directed to him, and to the other trees and saplings that acted as his spawn all throughout Oasis. 

Their conversations were mildly distracting, especially when Harold was alone and silent in the grove, but now, with you here, the bound man had to strain to make out their strange, slow voices. 

“Not in a way that will get through to him.” Harold finally answered you, after Bob ignored his mental prodding for the umpteenth time since they were joined. 

“Alright, well… Can I then…” You ended with a distinct clear of your throat. Your body against Bob’s bark; even down to Harold’s core, he could feel the way your heart picked up, the way you flushed with heat against him. 

“Yes?”

“I could touch you, if you want? You know… enough for both of us.” 

If his eyes were wide before, now they were akin to twin moons as his mouth hung agape and he appeared to short-circuit. 

“H-Harold?” 

“Lone… You… want this, too?” 

When you nodded, he could swear that his heart damn-near stopped. 

How ironic that would have been. 

With a distinct swallow, you nodded to him. Your eyes couldn’t meet his then, either. To see you embarrassed… about anything, it was more than strange. 

Harold thought you were the freest of them all, the most outward with your thoughts, your true self, and now… to know the one viable secret he knew you were keeping was potential feelings for him? 

“I was afraid to tell you.” You said quietly, “Afraid what you might think, or say, and the others, well…” You trailed off with a lovely chuckle, and Harold’s gruff timbre of a laugh followed. 

“The others don’t matter. They only care for Bob, what he can do for them. For all the wasteland. Harold is just… an afterthought.”

“Well, you’re not to me.” 

You released your hold on him as you spoke, turning to grasp his rooted arm with your soft hands, before hauling yourself back up onto that perch. Harold, not for the first, nor the last, time this evening, wished he could break one of his hands away from Bob’s grasp to reach out to you, to help balance you, as you wavered in your place on him. 

You stood on his limb now, level with his strange face, and pondered it. 

He felt you could see right through him. Not just through Bob and into Harold’s human shell, but into him. See his soul, even. 

He didn’t know what exactly you were looking for, but you stood for a long moment, just… running your eyes over him, like he was something you could read. Just… observing. 

Truth seeking. Something in his mind offered, and if he could’ve, Harold would’ve nodded his agreement to himself. 

“I want to kiss you.” You said decidedly, and Harold tried to recoil. Still, even with your words, your hands on him, your embrace… The thought was something so inconceivable for him, so… splendorous, that it felt like a dream. 

Perhaps you did kill me, and this is just the eternal dream. 

If that’s the case, waking would be more torture than getting bound to Bob all over again. 

“Alright.” Was all he could manage, in his shock, and the grin you answered with set his chest ablaze with affection. 

You leaned forward, bracing a hand on either side of his face, your fingers catching at the knobby protrusions– also courtesy of Bob– that made up some semblance of cheekbones. His eyes followed your lips as they pursed in preparation, and he found himself wishing– more so than for anything else he’d ever imagined– that he could move, that Bob would allow him this one small favor for dragging him all across the wasteland, for letting him tie Harold to this place for eternity, just once could he move of his accord again? 

Just for this.

 Your lips pressed to his mouth, to the grotesque, always-open marionette of what used to be his proper face, his proper lips, and yet… 

There was no crude pull-away, no startled mumble against him, not even the slightest flinch as you pressed forward and sighed. 

That sound rattled through him, like the sap seeping through his veins, it poured life into him. 

“Lone…” Harold whispered to you so softly, his voice reminded him of before. 

Before Bob, before he was a ghoul, even. A before that was famously long ago.

You still didn’t relent, moving that delectable mouth over his, tasting him, drawing out this euphoric feeling that had him believing he still was human. He wished he could taste you, know what it was like to be so close, to feel your breaths wash over his tongue, to clack his teeth against yours until you both pulled back in a fit of laughter, where he wished he could then wrap both arms around you. 

Harold wanted to roll to the grassy earth with you in his embrace, out of breath from your shared mirth as you both drew back in for another taste. He would run his mouth over the seam of your own, and you would boldly answer his call. With you still nestled in his grasp, he would move his way down your body, exploring, feeling. No patch of skin, no freckle, no scar would escape his scrutiny. 

He had so much time. This? It could last an eternity and not feel like even a blink to him after all that Bob put him through. He would use every second of it to see you, to smooth his hands over you, feel your heartbeat below your skin, feel the sweat form there, see the passion growing in your eyes. 

He’d take you, there, in the grass. 

Harold didn’t take much of anything, not ever in his life. He’s been somewhat of a pushover for most of it– Bob clearly had exploited that fact. 

But he would take you. 

You lent him your boldness, your unapologetic passion, your zest for all that life had to offer; your acceptance of him… he could borrow that, too, for tonight. 

He would pull you into his lap on that sweet, quiet patch of grass, hear you moan out his name as you felt his hardness beneath you. Those stringy clothes you wore, that already failed to conceal all that much, he’d pull them apart and bare you to him until there was nothing left for him to uncover. 

Your taste there, too, between your legs… He’d spend half an eternity just there, pulling your honey past his wanton lips until his chin dripped and he was drunk on nothing but you. And if he didn’t die there, between your divine thighs, then he would use every last living breath he had to worship the rest of you. 

Then he could be happy in this life of his, no matter how long he was stuck here for. 

It was with that thought that Harold returned to himself. 

Your lips dragged over him, and he could so nearly taste your breath, he could feel the warmth of your hands–close as they were to his eyes. 

“H-Harold.” You pulled back, and his eyes blinked open to admire you. 

You were out of breath, your eyes glossy and… blown wider than he’d ever seen them. 

“You taste… like nothing I’ve ever–”

“What is this heresy?” 

You froze where you leaned against Harold, as Tree Father Birch’s voice rang clear through the grove.

“I knew this was wrong, I knew you were plotting something, Branchtender Cypress, and this…” A disgusted throaty sound finished the sentence for him, and Harold felt something stir in him. Deep in his roots, not even Bob’s, but Harold’s roots… they boiled. 

“Away from Him." The Tree Father ordered, "Now, Cypress. Away from the grove and seek out Bloom–”

“No.” Harold’s voice growled, and he felt the ground shake from the lowness of it. 

Your hands gripped at him tighter. 

“W-what– but, but your highest–”

“He wants you to go. Father.” You spat the words out, relishing in the way it made Birch's face glow red to hear you command him on his god’s behalf. 

“B-but… No. That cannot be. I am the Tree Father, I speak for what is best for–”

“Lone is what’s best for Harold." He grumbled out, like the sound of groaning wood about to be severed. "What’s best for Harold is also best for Bob.” 

Tree Father Birch shook his head, his brows creased, despondent, like he was losing a loved one before his very eyes. 

“No, no, no. This cannot be.” He started forward, moving with intent towards the pair. 

Harold’s eyes darted to your face, the way your expression was curled in a defensive snarl. He wasn’t sure if it was true or not, but Harold felt his own features held that same malice right about now. 

“She has manipulated you, your greatness. Cypress wishes to have control for herself, she came to Oasis just for that! On a whim, she decided to join us, only after seeing you. Is this a coincidence? Does she want you to sustain your people, like I do, or will she take what she can before throwing us all into the fire?” 

A growl was forming low in Harold’s trunk. The topmost branches began to shake, just as the ground groaned in protest to the tree’s movement– small as it might be on the outside, it shook the very foundations of the grove.

“It’s what the Bloomseer saw. When she looked at your fate, the day that Cypress arrived here, she saw flames and anguish and death where Oasis once stood.”

"You’re an imbecile.” You piped up, with the full intent to continue with an explanation, but it was too late. He was close enough to you now that, when your words pushed the Tree Father over the edge, he could reach you. 

Birch lunged forward, his gnarled hand met your ankle, and he pulled hard against it, until you toppled, falling in between Harold’s trunk and his rooted arm. Through his and Bob’s connection, Harold felt the way bits of your skin tore against his bark, he heard your pained sounds, and his eyes glowed red and angry as hot coals. 

“Enough!” He bellowed until the grove’s voices went silent, the grassy ground ceased its whispers, the trees paused their conversations, Bob stood at attention, and Birch…

Harold didn’t know how it happened, couldn’t have said quite when, but his hand… His hand. Harold’s left hand was wrapped around the Tree Father’s throat. 

The man’s eyes were nearly bulging from his head from the force, and Harold released him just as suddenly. 

He paid no more mind to the Tree Father as he slid to the floor. Harold could only do as he had dreamt of, do as he’d wished, do what he thought would be impossible all night and every night before or since you met, since he and Bob became fused to this spot.

He reached out for you. 

“Lone?” the bark above his eyes seemed to crease with worry, as he noted the scrapes on your soft skin. 

“Harold, how did you…?” Your voice was a squeak, partly from pain, and partly from the disbelief that strained your throat. “Hon, you moved. You're moving now, it’s… this is incredible!”

You sprung up as he helped you, crashing your body to his in a hug that he returned. 

If it were possible, Harold knew he would’ve wept at the way he could hold you now. 

“Lone, are you alright?” 

“Better.” You smiled at him, that glowing smile that held the stars, and Harold couldn’t help himself. 

This new discovery of his, who knew how fleeting it would be? While he had it, he was going to take advantage of it. 

He scooped you up into his hold, easing you close to his face again, and pulled you near enough to kiss. 

It would’ve been a fool’s hope, he knew, to wish to move his face, his mouth, more than he already could, but he wished for that too, nonetheless. 

What's the harm in wishing, really?

Your hands went back to his face, and in the peace of the night, in the stillness, he could feel your breath, hear your soft sighs, he could even… could he taste you? Cool spring water and edible flowers, the juice of a mutfruit, and… a tinge of him, of Bob, that brash oakiness and sweet syrup. 

To taste a bit of his likeness on you was a pleasure Harold wouldn’t soon forget. 

A gasp released from the both of you, as your hips began to… move. Harold had seen this likeness before, in dances, in strange rituals, in… perhaps in another life, but to feel you on him, your heat grinding into his large, bark-gloved hand as your lips stayed locked to his, it lit that boiling feeling in his belly until he feared he really would go up in flames. 

Harold blinked open his eyes, slowly, reluctantly, to plead with you to carry on, to ask what you wanted from him, to beg to give it to you, anything and everything he was, he’d give to you, because without you, well… You both already knew where he’d be. 

Then his gaze caught the undesirable stirring of the man on the ground at his feet–roots. 

Birch was groaning, still only half conscious from the force that’d been on his windpipe, but his eyes were slowly blinking open. 

“Harold.” You pulled his attention back easily. “Don’t even look at him, okay? Birch doesn’t matter. All those people out there, who treat you like nothing more than an extension of Bob? They don’t matter either, okay?” 

The grip of his hand tightened over your backside, keeping you pressed firmly to his front. 

Size Kink with Uncle Leo x F!Reader

Uncle Leo is literally such a sweetheart 😩 writing for him felt... very much like writing for Fawkes, but that was the opposite of a problem. I just-- This sweet, sappy stuff is my weakness, I swear 😭

I hope you love it!

Here is the link to my  Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Size Difference, playing with hair, kisses, touching, cunnilingus, oral sex, supermutant sex, large cock, praise, so much sweetness, creampie.

Words: 4.1k

--

“Do you remember when we first met?”

The ticklish sensation of his fingers in your hair ceased, momentarily, before they resumed braiding the three separate strands together. 

“How could I ever forget? You were so kind and accepting. I will remember your grace in our first meeting for the rest of my days.” 

A smile gleamed in your expression as you leaned your head back and into your partner’s broad chest. Leo was always so warm. Perhaps it was merely a characteristic of all supermutants– you’d never been close enough to another one to determine if that was the case– but you found yourself choosing to believe otherwise. It wasn’t a characteristic of supermutants, but of Leo himself. 

Your Leo. 

“Darling, I love the feel of you against me, but…” 

“Oh, sorry!” You sat back up quickly, feeling his hands immediately return to their place in your hair, massaging over your scalp before running delicately down the strands and continuing to wind them together. 

“No need to apologize, I’m nearly done.” 

"But your shoulder--"

"It didn't pain me, sweet one." He assured you quickly, "Only fussed your braid a bit"

You hummed at that, nodding thoughtfully until you realized that that too, might fiddle with his delicate practice. His gentle movements lulled you into a sleepy bliss, and your eyes couldn't help but fall shut in response.

“Why did you inquire?” Leo’s voice piped up, deep and gravely, but soft with its proximity to you. 

“Hmm?” Your eyes blinked open again, pulling you from your pleasant lull. 

“A-about our meeting. You asked if I remembered.” He pulled a stray strand away from your face as he spoke, guiding it back to meet with the others that he was ponderously wrapping together. 

“Oh, yeah. I was just… I was thinking about what you told me then. About the moon, and how you said you would give it to me.” 

“Would that I could.” Leo piped up quickly, almost sadly, as though it were something that had been weighing over his shoulders all this time. “If I held it, it would be yours in an instant. You more than deserve the heavens in their entirety.” 

A blush crept to the apples of your cheeks, that same smile overtaking your lips at his sweetness. 

What about what he deserves? You couldn’t help but think. All that he’s been through. The struggle, the loneliness, exile, violence and hatred without clear cause… Leo deserves more than I do. 

If only I had more to give him.

“You’re too good for me.” You said with a slight shake of your head, turning it now to press a kiss to the first bit of him you saw. You felt his breath hitch beneath the skin of his chest as your lips made contact. 

“Impossible.” Leo refuted, as you knew he would, and you kissed him again. This time, you rose a bit higher, closing your eyes as you savored the heat beneath your lips, as you turned your whole body to face him. 

The mattress groaned beneath you in protest, as Leo allowed himself to fall steadily back against the pillows with you overtop him. A breathy laugh escaped the mutant then, as one hand went to steady you over his significant bulk. 

“L-Lone, what has inspired this?” 

“You, Leo.” You said against him, mouth still roaming the broad expanse of his muscular chest. 

He truly was a wonder to behold. So much strength, the capacity for that same ruthless tenacity the rest of his kind seemed to show, and yet… It held no interest for your Leo. 

In fact, it very nearly disgusted him. 

The thought of using his strength for violence instead of helping others, of allowing his emotions to boil over, of letting anger seep out and control his every move, like it seemed to with his brothers... Knowing him as you do, that thought was absurd to even consider.

If only that could be the case for everyone he meets. 

He’d still returned to you, even after humans had fired upon him, beaten him, nearly killed him in their blind hatred for what they clearly just didn’t understand, and yet… 

“The way you still trust me.” You murmured against him, almost in a frenzy now, as your hands smoothed over his skin to wrap carefully about his shoulders, as your lips met his neck and your legs straddled the wideness of his waist. “After all that people have done to you. The way you’re still so kind.” 

His breath picked up, causing your entire body to rise and fall with the rhythm of it as you lay sprawled overtop him.  

“You deserve to be shown that same love.”

You reached his jaw now, dragging your bottom lip over the hardness of it as your warm breath spilled against his face. 

“That same trust and affection that you give to me.” 

Finally, you ended at his mouth, kissing him there, unrushed and unabashed, as you kneaded over his phantom lips. Leo responded in kind, never one to be impolite, as he tilted his head to increase the pressure, allowing your taste to wash over him in full. 

Strong hands wrapped around your body, gentle but firm in the way he kept you anchored to him. His mouth, as with many things, took some getting used to. The largeness of it in comparison, his distinct lack of lips making it difficult for the action to be anything but… mildly lewd, since his tongue was undoubtedly the softest bit of him for you to make contact with. 

Leo was always respectful of you though, he had been from the start... almost frustratingly so. 

He allowed you to lead this time too, to coax his tongue to move against yours as your lips caressed him, as your hands moved upwards to hold his face tenderly. Heavy breaths mixed between you as your nose strained to pull in enough oxygen to sate you, but in the end, you had to back away from the blissful contact. 

“I…” Leo tried, pulling in huge breaths as his body grew all the warmer beneath you, “I would give you anything. Everything I have and all that I am, Lone.” 

“I know.” Your soft voice spilled from between swollen lips, one hand stroking over his cheekbone with profound softness. “I know you would, sweet one, but you don’t have to.”

His brows twitched upwards in surprise at that, but you continued too quickly for the confusion to linger. 

“All I want is you.” 

A slight gasp piled into his lungs, and then your lips were on him again. Your arms clasped with each other around the back of his neck, your closeness threatening to subdue him, but Leo couldn’t seem to pay that fact any less mind. Both of his arms clasped the same such way about your whole body, pressing your chests together until your heartbeats could hear one another, until they could plan to beat in sync. 

The whole of your bodies seemed to agree with that sentiment, you noted subconsciously, as Leo began to squirm restlessly beneath you, as– at that same time– your hips began a subtle grinding motion against his stomach. Long moments passed, and you felt your arousal begin to leak out of you and soak into your underwear. 

It was all so unrushed, so savory in nature, the way your mouths explored one another. Yours continued to wander from the usual place, pressing sweet kisses to his jaw, his cheeks, his throat, delighting in every venture as he sighed out his obvious pleasure. 

“Lone…” Your name escaped him like that of a prayer, spoken only to the most respected, the most revered. 

You could only hum in response, your lips dreadfully busy elsewhere. 

“This night…” You felt his throat contract beneath your lips as he gulped, and that managed to draw your attention away, if only for a moment.

“Yes?” You encouraged. 

“W-what, may I ask, did you have in mind for us?” 

“A night in, Leo. You’re still recovering, after all.” Somber hands drew gentle lines down one shoulder, the one you’d been cautious not to disturb all through today, and all this past week. 

You’d never imagined having to hide from members of your own kind this way… Never understood why they refused to listen, even when Leo was so obviously an ally. 

And more…

Perhaps that’s why those men had fired upon us that evening. Afraid again of what they don’t understand.

As though it were anyone’s business but ours.

They’d been sitting. Just sitting around their shared fire. Lone had leaned her head against his arm in tiredness… and these strangers had gone and nearly shot the other one off. 

To save her. 

Fucking idiots. 

“With your care, I admit, I’m feeling much better.” 

Leo's hand swiped your hair behind one ear, an overwhelming fondness pouring from his touch and expression both. 

“Oh?” 

Your smaller hand grasped to his, keeping it in place so you could press your lips to that too. He was looking at you so intently, but even if he hadn’t been, the mutant undoubtedly would’ve felt your grin through your lips upon him. 

It was rife with mischief. 

“Feeling good enough for…” You purposefully trailed off, allowing him to finish the inquiry within his own mind. It was evident enough that he did as you suspected, what with the way his breath caught and his hand tensed in your grip. 

It was as though the pair of you had never shared a bed, spent a night writhing over the sheets, utterly taken with one another. 

His modesty though did have its perks, for each time with him felt new, felt that anticipatory excitement of the first time all over again. 

“Yes… Though, only if that is what you wish.”

“It’s what I wish.” You said easily, already nodding before he could even finish his sentence. 

A rare sound left him then, one that had your eyes hazy and your stomach clenching– a growl, from deep within his chest. Then Leo was pulling you to him, your legs straddling his chest now as his giant hands pawed over the fabric of your sleep shirt, as he set his mouth over your neck and chest, just the way you had upon him. 

You answered his fervor with a gasp, your hands already moving to pull your garment off over your head in a couple swift movements. Now, you were sure things would move quickly, that his arousal and yours would send the both of you into a frenzy– especially after the couple weeks of playing it safe out in the wastes and taking it easy on his body with the injuries. You ached for him, for this as though it really were the first time all over again. 

Leo had more patience though. 

Instead of setting his mouth upon your chest just as soon as it was bared to him, Leo pulled back, looking on with wide, blown-out eyes as though he were seeing you anew. Any pain from his injuries was completely forgotten, as Leo brushed both hands over the twin swells of your breasts, the pads of his thumbs trailing gently over your nipples in their exploration of you. 

This was the first bit of evidence proving this wasn’t your first time together. His knowledge of what you craved, the confidence in which he reached out, in which he trailed his hands over you… The first time had taken more coaxing, more reassurance, but this… This was a man who knew how to please you, who craved it, beyond all things. 

A moan left you as the pressure of his hands increased ever so slightly, as the roughened pads of his fingers drew tingling circles over your softness. 

“Divine, Lone.” Your partner breathed out, before his hands trailed down your sides, until his fingers were twiddling over the hem of your pants. 

“If I should ask for more… Would you look down on me?” 

“No, Leo. God, no.” 

His hint became apparent to you immediately, and a bolt of anticipation shot up your spine. 

It took some maneuvering, but soon you were fully bare to him, pants and underwear both added to the growing pile of fabric on the floor. 

His breath was so heavy now, it felt like you were on the teetering bow of a ship at sea, your body roiling with the rhythm of the waves. 

“Rest your sweetness upon me, dear one. If you would.” 

Your skin flushed at his request, but you did as his flowery command bid you. With the help of Leo’s supporting grasp, you hauled your hips to hover over his face, before slowly easing down until your core made contact with the warmth of his mouth. 

A groan left him then, vibrating up through the whole of your body until you felt your head automatically fall back in pleasure. His large hands tightened their grip on either of your thighs, his fingers almost able to wrap entirely around them with the pressure. 

“Easy, Leo.” You half-gasped, half-chuckled out, feeling your hips automatically buck from the sensation of his mouth against you, of his hands’ firm grasp. 

Though he didn’t answer with his words– and there was good reason for that– his hands loosened a bit, and he began a slow rhythm of his tongue over the entirety of your folds. Already, you felt your slickness draining out of you with increased vigor, met by your partner’s eager tongue. Your hands went to his to balance yourself, as your hips automatically began to grind down into him, and another sound akin to a growl escaped from his barrel chest. 

“Feels so good.” You urged him onwards– as if he needed any further indication to continue his blissful actions– and Leo’s fervor only grew hotter. The whole of his mouth set upon you, his tongue rolling against your entrance, gathering your growing slickness, while what little was there of his lips sucked over your folds, his teeth careful, but definitely present as they periodically scraped over your most sensitive places. 

His passions had you nearly toppling with the intensity of them, your hands holding more and more firmly to his with every passing moment as you felt yourself pulse and gush out your pleasure against him.

A moan left you, not only at the sensations he was driving into you, but also at that look upon his face as you chanced a glance downwards… He might as well have been drunk, with the way your pleasure so obviously sated him, with the way it left him sodden and giddy and aching for more. Leo’s brows were furrowed, his mouth wide and undulating, pulling everything he could from you, and then some, and with a shout of his name, you were already coming undone. 

His grip held firm as your legs shook, as you writhed in his grasp and huffed out your release overtop him. Leo did not relent though; not fully, as his phantom lips still made impassioned love to your folds.

Finally, your hands were squeezing his with a plea to cease, your whine acting as further support to your wordless request as the last few tremors of ecstasy surged through your body. 

Leo understood though, and soon enough, you found yourself lying flat on the firm mattress as he hovered over your worn body. 

“Alright, my love?” 

A giddy smile invaded your expression before any words could properly form. A nod sufficed, and Leo’s own grin followed not a moment later. 

“Have I told you that you are divine?” 

Another nod, this time with a weak little chuckle attached. 

“Well, then you know how much I mean it…” 

One chaste kiss pressed to your lips, warm and wet and tasting of your sweetness before Leo laid beside you. His fingers trailed up one arm distractedly as he laid on his good side, still facing you. His eyes were brimming with wonder, with affection you’d only ever let yourself dream of growing up. 

And now it’s reality… 

You turned to face him, despite your fatigue, and pulled his face to yours again. Leo hummed through the contact, and your gut gave an eager little roll beneath your skin. 

Not finished yet, it would seem. 

“Lone?” Leo’s soft voice breathed as you pulled away. 

“Yes.” It wasn’t a question. You could see what he intended to ask in his eyes alone, and you’d already made up your mind. 

“Would you like to… continue?” 

“Yes.” You reiterated, this time with another eager nod of your head. 

“If you are fatigued, I understand–”

“Leo.” 

He ceased, merely blinking. 

“I want you, love.” 

Now, it was him who gave you a nod. His jaw was clenched tightly, showcasing the way he was forcing himself to hold back. 

The closest Leo came to his brothers’ unbridled emotions was when he was alone with you. 

His passion shone in his eyes, his want seemingly bleeding from his very skin as he set his hands upon you, and dragged you down until your hips met the foot of the bed. The mattress surged below his weight as he stepped away, only to return to the open space between your legs, where they dangled over the edge of the bed. His body towered over you, well within your eager line of sight as he pulled at the string on his shorts. It almost took effort, then, to pull the waistband outwards and around his straining erection, but when he was free of them, he stepped forward, filling that last space between your bodies. 

“Lone?” He inquired again, his voice husky, but still restrained. 

“Please, Leo,” You begged for him, knowing the way it made his knees shake, that it shot arousal straight to that substantial member straining between his legs. “I need you now.” 

“S-shall I prepare you?” 

Your head shook firmly, as certain as anything. 

“You did." You found your body unwittingly scooching forward for emphasis. "Just want you in me. Now.” 

His body wavered then, like the weight of your words had shoved against him. 

“B-but, love, what if I injure–” 

“You won’t, Leo. Please. I promise, if it hurts I’ll tell you.” 

He still looked a little uncertain, but the way your hips bucked into the air, the way you squirmed and your hands gripped onto the bedsheets in clear preparation had his morals in a chokehold. 

Does he do as you say, or as he thinks you need? 

You could see the war between his temples, but ultimately, one side won out. 

Leo trusted you. He trusted you to know yourself even better than he did, and so, the resolve of his decision was plain, as he guided your hips forward that last little bit, and pressed the searing tip of his cock to your entrance.

You pulled your legs up further on the mattress at the feeling, giving him ample room to press forward, and steadily, he did.

Leo's eyes locked to your expression, to your teeth setting on your bottom lip, your eyebrows creasing together, your forehead dotting with sweat, and as slowly as the mutant dared, he eased the entirety of his cockhead inside. His breaths were leaving him in grunts, yours in whines, as he began to pulse his hips forward in small movements.

It went this way every time. Slowly, carefully, he would press in, after he prepared you, always. Yet... It never seemed to lessen the shock of his largeness. A burning pressure accompanied his growing presence within you, and your hands gripped all the tighter to the bedsheets below.

"So well..." Leo huffed, his eyes almost fully black with his arousal, "Doing so well for me. Every time... You amaze me."

There was no breath for a response, not with the way his hips were drawing back and gently surging forward in equal measure, not as you began to glimpse the evidence of his member's depth through the expanding skin of your belly.

Even with the time you've spent together, the collective hours of this over the months, still, your body had the gall to act surprised at the way it was meant to open for him. You could hardly breathe for the pressure against your lungs, your organs protesting at the way they had to shove aside to let him in, to welcome him, the way your pussy tended to do so easily by comparison.

"Feel you so deep, love." Was all you could manage, and even that was said at the improper octave.

"Would you like me to continue?"

"Mmhm." You ground your hips against him to punctuate your affirmation, driving him in further still.

"V-very well," Leo's breaths left in heavy pants as his pace picked up.

You felt the delicious drag of his textured skin against your sensitive walls, every vein and scar easily detectible with your closeness, with the way you wrapped about him so tightly.

"I want..." A moan left you instead of the intended words, pleasure bursting behind your eyes as the head of his cock hit that soft, special spot deep within.

"Tell me." Leo commanded, his voice rough enough to send chills up your spine.

"Your hands, love. Want you to touch me, please."

A sigh of bliss met the air at your words, and Leo's hips gave an involuntary jolt that made you gasp beneath him.

"Would that I could never cease to do just that."

Your back arched at your partner's sudden fervor, as he hauled you ever closer, as his hipbones met the pliable skin of your ass and his hands delved down your body. His waist pressed to yours, his fingers trailing reverent shapes over your skin, kneading at your breasts, tickling at your throat, until you felt yourself shudder from his touch.

His cock gave an answering pulse within you, and you heard the strain of it catching in your partner's throat.

Just as you were becoming accustomed to the feel of his weight pressing over you, Leo pulled back, somehow maintaining the careful rhythm of his thrusts all throughout, despite the increasing evidence of his impending release.

"Ple--"

Your begging was easily cut short, as one hand smoothed down your body, finding it's destination peeking out from between your folds, straining to reach his touch. He answered the call, pressing two large fingers over your clit and rubbing until stars were bursting all around you, until your walls-- stretched as they were-- clenched even tighter around him.

"Lone... my love, I..."

Leo was already half gone as he tried to warn you, his pace quickening, his resolve failing him as his hesitancy was forced from his mind with the all-consuming bliss threatening to spill over.

"Yes, Leo, please. You deserve this love, you--"

His stuttering pace silenced you, his hips jerking and hands clenching against the mattress and flexing over your clit as his cock swelled, expanding your walls almost to the damn breaking point, before finally, he exploded deep within.

A series of frantic, throaty grunts escaped him in his euphoric climax, instantly spurring your own at the feel of that overwhelming heat filling you to the brim.

Your body trembled beneath his, as Leo delivered the last few thrusts, wringing everything within him, before slowly pulling out. Your breath caught at the way he scraped against your oversensitive walls on the way out, until you felt a great emptiness where he'd been, filled only with the remnants of his spend as it began to leak out of you.

"The most divine creature to exist here..." Leo gently ran his hand over the skin of your stomach, then down to drag over your thigh, before it fell from you completely. "What is bliss, if not you, my dear? What name could it possibly carry, but yours?"

"Leo..." Your voice choked out, half from fatigue and half from emotion.

The bed creaked and dipped as Leo's weight settled beside you, and you felt the comfort of his arm wrap around your body again, pulling you back into the place you felt safest.

His chest poured heat out over your clammy skin as he held you close, and you felt as though you could melt here, in his arms.

Lingerie with Winthrop x F!Reader

Aaaaand it has been a very ghoulie spooky season so far, and this ain't even the last one! But I'm absolutely thrilled that I got to write for another old fave of mine. Winthrop is just so special to me, and Underworld was my absolute favorite place in Fallout 3, so this was just lovely to write 😊

I hope y'all like it!

Here is the link to my  Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Lingerie, kissing, light body worship, reassurance, adoration, mutual lovey-dovey-ness, crotchless panties, oral sex, cunnilingus.

Words: 2.1k

--

“What are you laughing about?” Your smile matched Winthrop’s as you looked across the dimly lit table at him. The candlelight shone upon his marred face, highlighting the grooves there, the lines made more prominent by his grin. 

You found you couldn’t look away. 

And not for the reason most people couldn’t. To see him… after all these months knowing how tough it’s been for him, for all the ghouls down here… and he was laughing. 

“C’mon Win, spill it. I’m starting to wonder if you’re having a breakdown or something.”

“Nah, nah, Lone, that’s not… Well, maybe a little bit.” 

Your eyebrows raised in question. 

“Just… Never thought I’d be in this position, that’s all. I’m still not convinced someone’s not paying you to keep coming back here and all. To keep seeing me, you know? Sure isn’t my charm bringing you back through the big an’ dangerous CW central, that I know.” 

Unable to help yourself, you found your eyes rolling. 

“How many times do I have to tell you–”

“You don’t.” He interrupted gently, “I know you say it all the time, how you wanna be here, how you choose me or whatever, but I just…”

“Just…?”

“Never met a smoothskin like you before. Anybody like you. How’d a guy like me get so lucky to find you stumblin’ in here one day?”

Unable to help it, you found your head shaking of its own accord.

“And how is it that you can’t let this go?” 

With a good-natured little sigh, you smiled and stood from your chair, rounding the table separating you. 

“We’ve been dating three months now…” You knelt down to be just below his eye level from where Winthrop was still seated, placing both your hands upon one of his where it lay on the armrest. 

“When are you going to realize that I want you?”

“Oh, I get that." He said with a cute little tilt of his head, as though it were a given. "You tell me constantly, sweetheart, but… just, why?”

“Because, Win, you’re you. You’re funny and resourceful and selfless, you were the first to help me when I arrived here, all ragged and disheveled, like a lost mongrel.”

You pulled a giggle from him with that, and noticed the way his eyes grew distant as he remembered. 

“You gave me a job. Helped me when I had no one, no idea what I was doing, you just–”

“‘Took you under my wing?’” He finished for you, pulling the words right out of the front of your mind.

“Yeah, see? I knew this wasn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation.” You stood up, then, and meandered over to the couch against the wall, plopping down with a dramatic huff.

“What more can I do? How do I convince a stubborn, old ghoul like you that you’re wanted, huh?” 

Winthrop sighed himself, and tossed the napkin that’d been in his lap onto his empty plate on the small dining table. 

“Hmm.” He made an obvious show of humming, of appearing to truly be stuck in his thoughts, as he followed your lead and sat down next to you on the sofa. 

“You know, a kiss wouldn’t hurt.” You heard him mumble cheekily, and with another good-humored roll of your eyes, you turned and fulfilled his request. 

It was short and sweet, a teasing lure you cast to him with a grin upon your half-puckered lips, pulling away before he could sink into it, the way you knew he liked to. 

To get lost in you… It was something you both had in common, much to his not-so-unexpected surprise. 

“Mm, yeah. Definitely didn’t hurt…” Winthrop’s hand went to the back of his neck as you pulled away, rubbing there, almost coyly. 

You merely batted your eyelashes at him, as innocent as could be.

Like you hadn’t been planning for things to lead to this point all evening long. 

“You want more, don’t you?” Your lips whispered against his ear as you stayed close to him, and placed a hand over his chest for emphasis. Winthrop gulped heavily, you felt it go all the way down to where your hand lay over him. 

“You could tell that easy, huh?” 

You answered with a playful shrug, pursing your lips in preparation, and even before you could lean forwards, rough hands grasped around your waist, hauling you damn-near into the ghoul’s lap, as his mouth sought out yours. 

“I just know you, Win.” You mumbled through your connection, letting yourself melt into it now, your eyes closed, your hands wandering over his thin dress shirt-- one he’d definitely been leant, seeing as all he ever wore were stained T-shirts or mechanics jumpsuits. It was better that way, you thought, as your hands fiddled with the pesky buttons running down the front. 

“And I know,” Continuing with your speech, you pulled away to better get a look at the buttons that refused to budge, “What it looks like, when you need me to show you…” 

Finally, you made progress, separating either side of the shirt and exposing his chest and torso to your half-lidded gaze. 

“How much I want you.”

Winthrop released a noise at that, something between a sigh and a groan, and you watched the way his stomach muscles twitched and flexed beneath his ruined layer of skin. 

His body was like a topographical map, so unique, the way it was textured; its landmarks, winding scars like rivers separating land, coloration like no skin you’d laid eyes upon before, especially not in your sheltered past. He was utterly unique a landscape to explore, and you meant to explore.

As his bareness was revealed to you, his hands tugging off the sleeves completely from his chest and arms, you settled further in his lap and set your lips over his collarbone, his throat, his chest, until you felt his shaking breaths rattling in his chest. You could feel his growing excitement beginning to bulge within his slacks, could feel the way the belt was beginning to cause him discomfort. 

In good time, Win. 

You almost meant to say it aloud, but your mouth was otherwise occupied as it set upon his skin again. 

Cologne too, he must’ve borrowed from someone, (you suspected Snowflake), for his usual musk of WD-40, of grease and welding tools, of sweat and Nuka Cola Quantum was masked almost completely with a rich, musty smell. Like the wealthy elite assholes you’d found housed within the exclusive walls of Tenpenny Tower. 

It was nice, for the night… But if you were honest, you’d take the greaseball in the jumpsuit over one of them any day. 

Still though, the effort wasn’t to be ignored. 

“Mm, you smell good, hon.” 

Winthrop’s hands roamed over you, his fingers dreaming of peeling the blouse from you to uncover what treasures lay beneath. 

“Thought it’d make for a nice change, heh.” 

“Well,” You started, your voice already pointed like a sniper’s beam of light, “I love you either way. No matter your scent.” 

“Wish that went without saying, really, I do.” 

“Oh, enough, Winthrop. Can you just take the damn compliment?” 

“Fine, yes, I will, darling. You’re the boss.” 

Another roll of your eyes, and your lips were back on his with a new sense of purpose. Your hands fell to where he gripped your body, encouraging him to tighten his hold, to run his fingers down to the hem of your shirt, to aid you in pulling it off. 

He actually pulled back from your kiss to admire what was underneath, and as your eyes blinked open, his expression softened at the look of you, his mouth slightly agape and his own eyes blinking as if in disbelief. 

“You… You outdone yourself tonight, Lone…” He said beneath his breath as his head shook, reiterating his blatant awe at the lovely lacey detail accentuating your breasts. 

How you’d managed to find a garment of this color, of this quality and in your size, you’d never know, but hey, Tenpenny Tower had its perks. 

“And it’s even…”

“Our favorite color, I know… I wish there was more green like this in the world, but I suppose this’ll have to suffice.”

“Suffice? Lone, honey, you blew this out of the damn sky.”

“Oh, just you wait, hold on.” 

You stood up, feeling a great loss of heat from where his bulge had been pressing between your legs, and began to shimmy down your own dress pants until they slumped to the floor below, and revealed the matching pair of lace underwear. 

You had to hold in a laugh, as he leaned so far forward to behold you that he toppled from the couch and onto the floor to join the growing pile of clothes there. 

“Lone… I want you to listen to me,” His voice was low, more raspy even than usual as he scooted on his knees closer to you, until he could wrap his arms around your thighs and look up at you with his chin pressing to your pubic bone. 

“I don’t ever want you to take these off, okay? This is just… Baby, you’re beautiful.” 

You warmed pleasantly at that as your hands went to caress his face, to brush your fingers over his wispy hair, and feel his hot breath spilling out into the cool, evening air. 

“So beautiful, I feel I’ll go blind if I look too long at this smooth skin of yours.” A gasp left you as his mouth dragged over the hem of your decorative panties, his tongue darting out to drag along the textured pinholes in the fabric, fleetingly tasting your skin with every wet kiss, every wanton lick against you. 

Soon, your fingers were grasping almost to the point of pain to his head, holding him in place; until he delved lower despite the pressure, his hands encouraging you to spread your legs wider for him. 

“Oh? What’s– Lone.”

“Hmm?” Your brows were still creased, your eyes still closed, hell, you’d almost forgotten this particular detail about your panties, until you felt something hot and wet press directly against your skin, and drag between your quickly slickening folds. 

“Now my mind’s made up for certain,” He rasped, “Never taking these off again.” 

He wrapped the whole of his rough lips around your clit and lower lips, fully encompassing the crotchless section of your panties and giving a hearty suck that had your hips bucking into his in search of more, more, more.

“Fuck, Win, that’s it…” 

He moaned into you, the grip of his hands tightening as they moved to grip either side of your ass, hauling you closer until he could very nearly get lost within you. God, and he planned to, evidently. 

The noises leaving the space between your legs were utterly sinful, your pre-cum and his spit creating a sloppy cacophony of your slick skin and his dancing with one another. His groans left your legs shaking, both from the sound, and the feel of his vocal vibrations against you, his hot breath spilling there, making you feel as though steam ought to be rising from your pussy.

Your own moans picked up as well, your muscles tensing as you craved something to brace yourself against, to lean on. But there wasn’t time, there was only this-- your partner burying himself in you, the sharp bone protruding from his phantom nose rubbing deliciously, almost painfully against your clit with each enthusiastic swipe of his tongue, and it had you close. 

“Win, please…” You breathed– almost whined, “Don’t stop.” 

He made a sound like a ‘nuh uh,’ shaking his head to further emphasize, and attacked you with a fervor you rarely– if ever– saw in him. 

“F-fuck, that’s– ahhh.” You sighed out your release, your hips bucking against him as Winthrop nursed you through it, his hold on you unyielding as he drank down your release like a man parched. 

He pulled back, like it pained him to do so, and steadily, his hands guided your shaking legs to sit back down on the couch. You fell easily back into the padding of the cushions, feeling your core still tingling from little aftershocks of bliss.

“Shit, Win… That was…” 

“Fucking delectable.” Winthrop panted out, still kneeling between your spread legs, and wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. 

“Yeah…” One of your hands reached to splay out over his warm cheek, caressing it as he leaned into the touch, while the other fell to your lap tiredly, as you both caught your breath. 

“And I ain’t done yet. So long as you aren’t?” Winthrop's eyes resembled that of some pre-war creature too soft to survive in this hellish landscape as he looked up at you. Adoration and pleading ran rampant in his expression, and you shook your head not two moments later. 

Free Use with Dukov x f!Lone

I'm just going to apologize now for the egregious number of exclamation points in this one, but you all know Dukov. Everything Dukov has to say is most important! Must be said with passion, ha ha!

Anyways, this was good fun to write, just as silly and a bit unnerving as meeting him in-game lol. He may be a shitty, drunken womanizer, but he does have charisma!

I hope you like it! 😅

Here is the link to my  Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Free Use, brief fingering, playful spanking, cunnilingus, oral sex, dirty talk, corruption, allusions to abuse, little bit of bimbofication, cock-drunkenness, very slightly dubious consent, Lone realizes she's into it, guilt, squirting, cumplay, possessiveness, Dukov swears quite a bit in both English and in Russian.

Words: 4k

--

The anticipation of it all had Lone on edge to the point of madness. 

Was that him? That sound? The door opening, the footsteps... would he do it now? Or does he just want a drink? Maybe he fancies some time with Fantasia or Cherry, even...

How do they live like this all the time?

Lone flinched as one of the dishes she’d just washed settled on the drying rack, clanking loudly and almost causing her to drop the rag she was using to dry her hands. 

“Just gonna have ta get used to it, sugar. If it’s how Dukie likes it, that’s the way it’s meant to be.” 

Cherry had told her, lounging against the magenta heart-shaped cushions, puffing at the end of her Bakelite cigarette holder. 

“Ah ha! Right you are, my Cherry. Dukov’s way is the best way, for him, and for all!” 

He’d laughed as his fingers twirled Lone’s hair. 

“Mm, and Cherry, I think you’ve just found it! Finally, a name for our mysterious and sweet new bidie-in. Sugar, ah, is perfect! Better than ‘sweet cheeks,’ rolls off tongue much nicer, ha!” 

She could flinch at the name, at the new reality she found herself in, but… Maybe Dukov was right, maybe all of them were. Lone was safe here, she was alive, she was fed, clean– well, clean-ish, she was warm enough, taken-care-of enough, and hell, it beat most everywhere in the CW in terms of amenities. If this was the price, the new– frankly ridiculous– name, and this… licentious way of life, then so be it. 

Dukov was loud, vulgar, and, overall, a bit of an ass, but he was an ex-mercenary who would shoot out any stranger’s kneecaps if they got too close to his girls, so… For the time being, Dukov’s Place was to be her home. Lone– Sugar– had passed his tests, she drank with him, partied with the whole lot, and he’d deemed her fit to receive his Dukov surprise any time of the day. With that, came protection, allyship, food, more drink than she could handle, jet, if she wanted it, and… well, more partying. 

It wasn’t the life she’d dreamed up for herself down in that vault, but none of this had been. At least with this life, she’d be alive and not dead in a ditch somewhere looking like bloody Swiss cheese or an irradiated raisin. 

Staring those kinds of realities in the face made it difficult for her old, more domestic, aspirations to seem achievable. 

Lone’s bare feet made soft padding sounds as she made her way back into the main room. Distant gunfire sounded out from the curtained windows; upstairs, someone swirled a drink with ice cubes in it. 

Lay in bed or drink? Both, maybe?

Those were the decisions she had to make now, ones so trivial they made her stomach turn. 

Guilt, maybe. That I’m here wondering if I should have the gin or the rum before bed, while settlers are out fighting for every scrap to feed the children they never planned on having. 

The bags beneath Cherry’s eyes told her the same thoughts wound themselves around in her head, and the way Fantasia set her jaw at the mention of anywhere, anything but what was happening here, in this over-large house– or pad, as Dukov called it– meant she couldn’t bare those musings either. 

How Dukov could stay so complicit in his own enjoyment, Lone will never know, and she doubted he’d ever say. 

Instead of lounging, Lone began to make the bed. She fluffed the pillows in her hands, watching the dust rise in speckled clouds towards the chandelier above her, she smoothed the velvet comforter over the stained mattress below, letting her mind go blank, letting the familiar creature comfort of gentle cleaning bring her back to her time in the vault. When life was simple and it was guiltless. 

“Mm, why make it nice when we just going to fuck it up all over again? Ha ha.” 

Lone tensed at the booming sound of Dukov’s accent hitting her from behind. 

“You have nice ass when you’re making my bed though. I only wish your dress was shorter!” 

Lone fell forward onto her elbows as Dukov landed a loud spank on the cheek of her ass. It stung briefly underneath the thin, nearly sheer, fabric of her lavender nightdress, but her reaction more so came from the shock of his sudden touch. 

“Mm, but you are so… what is word?” Lone didn’t move from her position. She felt her breath staying in her lungs of its own accord, as one of his calloused hands dipped low, smoothing the shallow skirt of her dress up over her back. 

He rubbed her revealed bareness thoughtfully, as though he were stroking over his own chin. 

“Domestic!” He shouted triumphantly, and Lone heard the drink in his free hand splash out and onto the floor with his celebratory gesture. “Like sweet little housewife.” 

Dukov left her at that, strolling leisurely over to the bedside table, where he deposited his glass onto the wood with a resounding clunk. Lone still didn’t move her body, though her head tilted to follow his movements as he stepped back behind her. 

A question formed in her mind, a loud, colorful shape that she refused to put words to. Still though, he answered it a moment later, as he worked the waistband of his sweatpants down to his thighs, revealing his half-hard cock without ceremony or pause. 

Dukov was always ready to party with his girls. He’d boasted that the entire first day Lone spent here. 

“And if you want good time, sweet cheeks should always be ready for me too, haha!”

Lone still needed to get used to that aspect of this new life of hers. 

“You have such sweet ass, is no wonder ‘Sugar’ fits you so well.”

With both hands effectively free, Dukov smoothed her dress up to her shoulder blades, and let his fingers drag down the skin of her back as they made their way back to her ass. He cupped each cheek in one hand, giving them both a rough squeeze to help awaken his erection the rest of the way. 

“So quiet today, and all days. Making Dukov feel you do not want to be here…” 

His voice was suddenly edged. Like a switchblade, he was dull, seemingly harmless, until he wasn’t. 

Lone gulped, feeling the dryness catch in her throat. 

“You just… you leave me so speechless, Dukie.” She let her voice come out a few octaves higher, a tone that would annoy anyone else, or make them think she was playing a character of some kind. 

But that is what I’m doing, isn’t it?

“Wanna hear your voice.” She carried on, pouting as she looked back at him with an exaggerated lower lip. “So… sexy. You really know how to get a girl wet and wanting, baby.” 

She hoped that last bit was true. Wished, more like. 

“Ha ha, now that is more like it, sweet cheeks!” She squeaked as he gave her another spanking, surely darkening the skin there with the force of it. 

“Now, spread your legs for your Dukie. I want to taste your sweet pussy. No better chaser than that, ha!” 

Lone did as he asked, stepping up until her knees rested on the edge of the bed, and parting her thighs so wide that her lower lips almost brushed the velvet below. 

“Mm, no prettier sight in whole wasteland than that.” His fingers went to her folds, pressing between them boldly and pulling them apart. Toying with her. “And all for me.” 

His voice took on that hint of darkness again. It became more prevalent with Cherry mostly, when she was being a little too unresponsive for his tastes. When he’d drank a bit too much as well, sometimes it came out then. 

The worst of it that she’d seen though, was when a settler had waltzed in. 

Dukov had offered him a drink, passive-aggressively, and made many clear indicators that the man should leave, and finally, he’d snapped. 

Lone thought her new… patron was going to kill him, and he nearly had, but before that, his voice got cold, threatening and dark as smoke billows. His face had changed too, the laugh lines suddenly drawing downwards, the gleam in his light eyes turning to dull ice behind distant pupils. 

She’d known then, that there was to be no leaving him. Not unless she meant to be gone for good. Even then, though… Lone could see him hunting her down. With that expression, that intensity… silly, raucous Dukov was not a man to cross and expect to get out unscathed. 

In his core, he was still that ruthless mercenary. 

That thought kept her effectively in place, and even inspired her hips to wiggle from side to side, jiggling the ass cheeks that he so loved to ogle, and inviting him in. 

“Take what’s yours, Dukie.” She breathed out, like he made her heart pound from want instead of unease. 

“Oh-ho, I will, Sugar! Dukov won’t ever keep his baby waiting.” 

She felt his tongue on her in the next instant, sudden and instantly prodding invasively towards her entrance. 

His fingers, miraculously, had managed to draw a drip or two of slickness from her in that brief time; or perhaps it had just been her body’s natural response to him, to his presence. 

At this point, it wouldn't surprise her if that was simply becoming habit. 

Whose dogs were they that salivated on cue with the ring of the food bell? Hadn’t he been Russian as well?

It was difficult to think at the moment, as Dukov clumsily tongued at her lower lips, lapping frantically like the aforementioned dogs, as his hands spread her ass wide to allow him in deeper. Dukov sounded animalistic behind her, with all his slurping and groaning, like he was in heat. 

That wouldn’t have surprised her all that much though. But animals only went into heat every so often, whereas Dukov was constantly in need of sex, or it seemed that way, at least. 

Did that make him more basal than beasts? 

Probably. 

Lone had to keep from huffing with laughter at that. Dukov wouldn’t like it if she were laughing as he tried to eat her out. No… that might earn her more than a bruised ass…

Instead, she released a moan that verged on a whine, effectively selling her desperation for him, she hoped. 

“Dukie, your tongue feels so good, baby.” Lone panted out, bucking her hips into the contact until she really did feel some semblance of pleasure from it. 

He merely hummed into her, almost a growl as the grip of his hands tightened, steadying her as his mouth worked. She felt the slight prickle of his facial hair against her bareness, the sensation irritating her delicate skin until, slowly, his movements began to spread her lubricating slickness over her mound. 

“Fucking shlyukha. So wet for your Dukov.” He breathed through his teeth, like a hiss, pulling cold air over her dewy skin until she felt herself shiver. 

“Wet for only you, Dukie.” Lone whined, leaning her ass back as if to plead for more. 

“Cunt sweeter than medovukha… Now my cock would like a taste!” 

Dukov’s knees cracked with the swiftness of his motion, as he stood behind her. Lone’s body shifted on the mattress as his gruff hands maneuvered her ass to be level with his hips. She glanced down between her legs with hazy eyes, noting the distinct darkness of his cockhead. 

He was already swollen, glistening with his own excitement, as he took his shaft in-hand, and guided it to her winking entrance. Her keeper toyed with her briefly, dragging his tip between her folds, and stimulating her more effectively than she would’ve liked. When he couldn’t handle any more teasing himself, Dukov’s free hand pressed to her back, arching it, and he nudged himself inside. 

She was still relatively new to all this, so he was forced to be slow as he entered her, but it was clear the Russian savored it all the way. 

He groaned loudly, dramatically, as her walls eased enough for him to sink in to the base. She felt the lewd press of his balls against her ass as he stayed seated all the way in, merely grinding his head around, stirring at her insides until she was panting and her back slicked with a sheen of sweat. 

Lone felt her walls clench him unwittingly, and Dukov released another animalistic growl as he reared his hips back, dragging against the tightness she created. The friction had him pulsing in her already, but Lone didn’t let that fool her. 

Dukov’s daily schedule involved only a few choice activities: 'drinking, farting and fucking,' as he so charmingly tended to put it. As such, the man had the stamina of a mongrel in heat, and Lone always felt like she was being dragged by the leash from behind him. 

The moments of easing into her, of grinding and molding her walls to him were over, evidently, as Dukov bucked forward and jammed the head of him to the very back of her. Lone yelped, which he seemed to take pride in, for he did it again less than a moment later.   

From there, his pace only built, and Lone’s breathing picked up all the more. She huffed into the stuffy comforter below her, her fingers unwittingly wrapping it in her grasp as he drove her forward into the plushness with every thrust. 

“Ah, you are made for me, Sugar. Made for this big, Russian cock, ha!” He punctuated his laugh with a particularly savage jolt into her, and Lone bit hard into her lip. 

“Tell me, sweet cheeks. Tell your Dukie how good he makes you feel.” 

She was already flushed from the arousal that steadily built up in her, even with the selfish pace he’d set, the unfocused jabs against the sensitive barrier of her cervix, but she felt herself blush all the more at his request. 

Isn’t it enough that I’m wet for you? That you hear my heady breaths and girlish moans? 

“Oh, Dukie, you do!” She cried out, with feeling. “Gonna make me cum for you, for your huge, ah, your manhood. So big in my little pussy!” 

'The more lewd, sweet cheeks, the better!'

His voice ruled her head then. It had to, else her truthful words, the genuine sounds she made in the throes of lovemaking would never cut it for the boisterous brute shoving wildly into her.  

“Ha ha, such a little slut for me!” He gave her another spank, as one hand gripped hard to the flesh of her hip, holding her in place through the barrage of arrhythmic pummels. “And still, cannot even say ‘cock.’ So cute you are, my little vaultie. So innocent. Until you met nasty Dukov!” 

“Such a slut for you, baby.” She chanted, right on cue. 

“I will make party girl of you yet, Sugar.” Another spank; though... now the skin felt more numb than pained.

It… wasn’t bad.

“Have you sucking on my balls like candy on stick!” 

Lone felt herself clench up at his lewdness, felt the flush over her skin spread to her ears, her cheeks, all the way down her chest to warm her swinging breasts. 

“Yes,” She breathed, the words shaking the same as her trembling legs, “Want to worship you.” 

“Have you begging me to shove into that sweet, sweet ass!”

To no one’s surprise, Dukov struck her ass cheek again, surely bruising it in the process, before fondling the swell of it with strong fingers, making her cry out like a yowling feline. 

Lone didn’t want to think about the other women in the building. They’d heard it all, said it all too, she was sure, but still… for her to let him debase her this way… 

Lone's lip ached at the way her teeth pressed into it, until her gasp caused them to release the pressure. 

One of his fingers had prodded threateningly at that tight back entrance of hers, feeling and delighting in the way she clenched at the sudden touch. 

He released another token laugh at her reaction. 

“Ah,” Lone groaned out, “Want you everywhere, Dukie.” 

That seemed to appease him, for now his hand wrapped around her belly, sliding down until he could fondle her lower lips, occasionally grazing that sensitive bud nestled within. 

“Have your needy cunt drooling just from sight of me.” His pressure increased, and his thrusts became more direct, more purposeful with each fervent plunge into her drooling heat.  

“It does baby, my pussy always wants you!” She cried, feeling her walls clenching at him, encouraging this new, intense pace and threatening to topple her over into overwhelming release. “Wants you all the time, Dukie.” 

“Tell me.” He commanded, his own jubilant tone growing rougher, deeper with his increasingly urgent movements. “Tell me where, how– yebat’, how your pussy wants me!” 

“Wants you everywhere, “ She managed, though words were becoming hard to form in her gasping mouth, “Needs you fucking me against the counter, the floor, on the stairs.” 

She told him her fears then, all that she’d been anxious about these first few days of being his newest girl, the places she’d imagined him grabbing her from behind, how she’d thought he’d take her, like he was now entitled to. Because she’d agreed to this. 

As uncertain as she’d acted the moment she signed his metaphorical contract, as guilty and nervous as she felt, Lone had still done it. 

Truth be told… there was something exciting about it. 

It was wrong that she felt she needed to do this, in order to be safe in this world, but there was also some small part of her, deep in the recesses of her innermost desires; the ones she was ashamed of, the ones she never let herself dwell on, lest she become depraved in the watchful, judgemental eyes of the other vault-dwellers, something about this life– about him– that she craved. 

It was like a gnawing hunger, a caged beast, the way it growled and roiled beneath her skin; and finally, she was letting part of it out, giving it leash, and hoping– for her sanity, for her dignity’s sake– that it wouldn’t choke her with the slack of it. 

“Can never have enough of you, Dukov.” Her voice became less an act, her moans leaving her freely as he pounded into her increasingly sensitive walls. “Want you when I wake, want to ah– lick you ‘till you’re hard, ride you until you burst. Want you bent over me, like this, with a drink in your hand as I grind you into my- my cunt.” 

Dukov was groaning behind her. She could feel his cock pulsing inside, like it was nodding its head in agreement to all she said. 

“Want to be under the table at dinner, licking and slobbering over you, getting lipstick on your dick while Fantasia sits in-in your lap.”

“Yes, Sugar. Fuck yes.”

His hands trembled as they held firm to her hips, gripping her until she ached. He was deep inside her now, grinding and jerking his hips, pushing the head of his cock stubbornly to the end of her, as though he could get his dick in any further, as though he could climb inside after it.

“Want- ah, want you to fuck me to sleep, grind against me like you’re doing now, Dukie, and stay inside all night so my pussy doesn’t– fuck, have a chance to miss you.” 

She whined out the last couple words, the pleasure he was stroking burning up higher and higher, growing more intense with each rub of his tip against that soft, spongy spot until she was crying out, feeling her legs tremble, her hands grip until her knuckles paled, until she gushed all over his pulsing shaft like the slut he made her into. 

“Ahh, yes, my shlyukha, cum your sweetness all over me!” 

Lone felt her pleasure leaking down from her lower lips, leaving dark-colored droplets on the purple-pink velvet beneath her. She watched him between her thighs as her head hung low, the way his own legs shook as he resumed his shallow thrusting, the way his soaked balls dripped her translucent nectar as they visibly tightened against her ass. 

“Your cunt squeezes better than Cherry’s ass, Sugar. Fuck, your Dukov is close.” He was growling even as Lone was fading, her fatigue at all the excitement, at being on edge all day waiting for him, for this inevitability to occur, slowly drained out. Brief spikes of pain-tinged bliss had her flinching from his last few forceful strokes against her tired walls, and then he was pulling out. 

Warmth coated Lone’s back in powerful spurts, nearly reaching the fabric of the scrunched dress that still hung from her shoulders. 

Must’ve been saving himself for me today. 

She thought hazily, as her vision blurred and her arms wavered where they held her up. 

Dukov was groaning as he finished, wringing the last bit of his spend out onto her pussy lips, watching that too drip down onto the soiled comforter. 

“See?” He said, breathless, as he stepped back and released his softening cock from his hand. “No need to make bed. Only fuck it up all over. Ha!” 

One last spank that made her eyes fly wide open, and Dukov was finished with her. He pulled his sweatpants back up, reached for his drink, and shouted something to Fantasia as he started up the stairs. 

Lone let her body sag over the ruined covers, imagining herself scrubbing at them later…

And imaging Dukov finding her there, bent over the bathtub she’d use to soak it... 

Threesome with Flak x Shrapnel x F!Lone

I LOVE Flak and Shrapnel so dang much, they're some of my fave characters in FO3, so I was just so excited to write for them 😩 And this... well, this didn't disappoint (I think, anyway 😅)

I hope you love it!

Here is the link to my  Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Threesome, polyamorous relationship, healthy relationship, light sub/dom dynamics, kissing, undressing, banter, dirty talk, hand job, fingering, helping hand, riding, blow jobs, spitroasting, cum swallowing, creampie.

Words: 3.1k

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“The way I heard it, the shop ain’t the only thing they share.”

“How much you think they’re paying that girl?” 

“Think she’d let me join in too?” 

Lone’s eyes closed tightly at the memories, at those loudmouth assholes in the market today, and so many days before. 

Flak and Shrapnel say that’s just how it is. That they’re just talkers, that gossip's all they have in their dreary lives on this boat, but Lone thought differently. All those folks may just not understand, or maybe they’re jealous, even. Either way, one thing was true from all of their perspectives: it’s none of their business. 

It’s a small city, people talk, she gets it– Lone gets that more than most, really– but sometimes you’ve just gotta close your ears to the talk and focus on you and yours. 

So that’s what she did. 

They all had complicated pasts, and now… Now they all had each other. 

With that thought pressing at the front of her mind, Lone crawled up onto the bed after her partners. Flak’s half-smile lit up his lined face, a sanguine glow brushing his cheeks more delicately than should be possible, for a man like him, but it made Lone’s heart warm all the same. Shrapnel, on the other hand, let out one of his token grunts, sliding off of where he’d pinned his partner down on the mattress, making room for her, in his own gruff way. 

“Come to finally get in on this, sweetheart?” Flak spoke as he held out a hand, allowing her to grasp onto it and keep her balance as she swung one leg over his waist. She nodded, as she sank her weight down onto him. Flak was firm beneath her, and not just where his hardening member prodded her backside, but the lithe chords of muscle running through him from a lifetime of adversity, from his continuing preparation for that past to bite him in the ass. Lone let her hands fall to his torso, let them run up the hills of his scarred chest. 

“At least she’s finally forgetting about the jackasses in the market.” Shrapnel huffed from his place beside them, one hand slowly palming over the growing bulge in his own boxers as his eyes stayed locked to their movement. “Took her long enough.” 

“Easy on her, Shrap.” Flak’s voice was a warning growl. 

It made shivers run up Lone’s spine. 

“She’s not as used to the shit as we are.” His hands fell to either of her thighs, encouraging Lone to rock forward and back over his waist. “Nah, our girl ain’t done a wrong thing in her life, so now she’s gotta hear all the talk for the first time… it bothers her.” 

A snort sounded from beside her, but Lone hardly noticed as she felt a pit forming in her stomach– not a cold, anxious pit like the gossip had inspired earlier, no– this was a churning, kindling heat trapped within her, with no place to go but up, and all the way through her. It came out her fingertips as they drew thin scratches over her partner’s chest, out her breast as it heaved with building breath, and out her very core, as it began to seep slickness between her spread thighs. 

“Shouldn’t.” Said Shrapnel, and the bed creaked as he shifted up into a seated position against the pillows, “Talk doesn’t mean a damn thing, baby, an’ if it bothers you, well–”

“Careful, babe.” Flak gave another warning, his eyes narrowing as they shifted to Shrapnel.  

“Well, then we’ll just have to find a way to shut ‘em all up. ‘S all I was gonna say.” 

Lone was moving of her own accord now, rutting into Flak like it was her job, until her breath caught, and she was forced to pause. Shrapnel’s hands were at her backside now as he leaned in towards them, running his touch over the soft material of her panties, before one hand dipped forward and pressed firmly to that wet spot forming between her legs. 

He hummed appreciatively at the feel of it, before he pulled away again. Lone very nearly whined at the briefness of it all, the loss. 

But we have time. She reminded herself, and gave another forward thrust of her greedy hips. 

Shrapnel’s hands were still behind her though, fiddling with the fabric of Flak’s briefs, snapping the tightness of the elastic against his pubic bone until Lone heard him hiss between gritted teeth. 

“Fuck you doin’ down there, babe?” 

“Jus’ reminding you. Don’t have to stand up for our girl all the time.” 

Lone’s muscles tensed, another gush of slick flowing out of her at the sound of it. 

Our girl. Fuck, how she was weak for when they talked like that. 

“May not have done a thing wrong in her life, as you put it. But she still ended up with us, eh? So how about giving her some fucking credit.” 

She could tell the way Shrapnel palmed over his partner’s erection, with the way Flak bucked up into her, almost tossing her body off of his completely. 

“‘Specially don’t have to defend her to me.” 

Lone gasped as a spank rang through her, as Shrapnel’s firm hand came down almost too hard on her ass. 

“I don’t give what I think can’t be taken. Not to either of you.” 

Twin groans escaped the pair, as Shrapnel dealt them both a strong hand; the one on her pinching at the sore flesh of her ass cheek, while the hand on Flak gripped the hardened length of his cock through the fabric of his underwear. 

“Shit, babe,” The words escaped Flak’s throat like Shrapnel was dragging them out by hand, “Give me something. Let me feel you.” 

He didn’t respond, not with words anyway, but the tensing of Flak’s muscles in response to his action were loud enough for Lone to understand. The grip of his hand vanished from behind her, and, soon enough, she heard the telltale swoosh of Shrapnel tossing Flak’s briefs to the ground. 

“Only cuz you’re begging so sweetly, Flak.” 

With his words came the sound of skin rubbing over skin, and a hiss between Flak’s teeth. Lone let her eyes focus indulgently on her partner’s expression beneath her, on the way the veins in his throat popped out, how his thick eyebrows creased together and sweat began to bead over his forehead. The evidence of his pleasure was in his body too, the tight swell of his chest muscles as they clenched and expanded with his breath, in the way his knuckles paled as his fingers clenched against the bedsheets, and Lone finally couldn’t hold back. 

She leaned down, lips first, and collided her mouth with his, letting the bourbon-y taste of his breath wash over her tongue as he groaned against her. Flak poured his desires into her like liquid flame, as Shrapnel continued his lewd actions over his partner’s cock. The sounds from behind her had the skin flushing over her cheeks, on her chest, and soon enough, a hand was at her core, dipping under the fabric of her panties and rubbing roughly against her folds. 

From the callous on his skin, from the pressure and technique, Lone knew that it was Shrapnel’s fingers between her lower lips, rolling and beckoning her slickness forward; before, cruelly, he pulled away again. 

A groan escaped her this time, and she very nearly pulled back from Flak’s lips, before his strong hand went to the back of her neck, keeping her in place. 

“Trust me, girl. It’s for the best. Just practice fucking patience.” The growl from behind barely met her ears, as the cacophony of Flak’s breathy sighs, of Shrapnel’s slick, jerking hands filled her ears. 

A squeeze of Flak’s hand over the base of her neck, and Lone was pulling away. 

“If all that slick in your hand’s come from her, I’d say she’s ready, Shrap.” 

Lone only nodded her agreement, the mere look in Flak’s eyes telling her what to do next. Her lips met the sharp line of his jawbone, then journeyed around the slightly stubbly skin of his throat, layering kisses there until she was breathless.  

“Hmm.” Shrapnel made a show of his thinking, sounding displeased with nothing more than a hum, and then his hand was between her thighs again. “So you say…” 

He rubbed her there, first over her panties, frustratingly light with his touches, and then he dipped his digits inside. Without preamble, he spread her lower lips apart and found her entrance, shoving two rough fingers into her until she whined against Flak’s throat. 

“Not too rough, baby.” 

“Oh, she can take it. Don’t let the sweet vaultie fool ya, Flak.” He twisted his fingers inside, rubbing the pads of them over the sensitive spots within until she was writhing over his partner. “She likes it rough. Ain’t it clear?” 

Shrapnel lightly shook his hand, sending jolts of vibrations up through her core, and then began to thrust. Stars burst behind her vision, and without meaning to, Lone set her teeth against Flak’s neck as she whined. 

She felt his chest jump with the sudden pain, but that throaty sigh that left him told her not to cease. 

Shrapnel continued his thrusting within her, his jerking of Flak’s cock, until both his lovers were gasping from his efforts, and Lone continued mouthing lovebites into Flak’s sensitive skin, leaving a mosaic of red and purple spots in her wake. The pressure of his fingers around the back of her neck increased, but it only pulled her closer, encouraging the pleasurable inflictions of her teeth and lips over him. 

“Shrapnel.” He choked out, and Lone felt the bounce of his Adam’s apple against her lips. 

“So soon? But I thought you wanted our girl prepared for–” 

“Now.” Flak barked out, “As you said, ahh, she’s ready.” 

Shrapnel’s signature snort sounded from behind her, and then the fingers nestled in her walls pulled away. Both his hands were wet, as Shrapnel grasped to her hips, and hauled her body backwards, to align with Flak’s straining erection. A flick of his fingers, and her panties were swept to the side, and the hot tip of Flak’s cock was being eased into her. 

She moaned, as Flak sighed, their joining sending a burst of chills down her spine. 

Shrapnel even released a hum of his own, his pleasure surely building with the view of his lovers uniting at his hand. He wasn’t a sentimental man, at least not outwardly, but both her and Flak knew the exhilaration he got from being the one to make them writhe this way, to help facilitate that pleasure that did outwardly thrill him. 

One of his hands grazed over her lower belly as it reached around, pressing instantly– expertly– to that sensitive button nestled in her folds, and began to rub over her steadily. Her hips began to jolt forward at the stimulation, driving Flak the rest of the way into her, and pausing there, as her walls clenched wantonly over his stiff heat. 

Flak gave an answering buck of his own hips, before both of his hands slid down her body until he had a firm hold of her sides, and he began to guide her movement over him. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you do so well for us.” Flak praised with his voice, as well as his body. His gaze wouldn’t separate from her expression, his breaths were leaving in hearty pants, as his hands began to explore her. Lone needed no more encouragement, the rub of Shrapnel's fingers and the feel of Flak’s swelling cock had her bucking and rolling her hips of her own accord. 

“You make it easy.” She huffed out, and felt another jolt of pleasure run through her at Shrapnel’s touch, at the new firmness of it. 

“Should see the way she’s gushing for you, Flak.” 

“Can feel it.” He chuckled in response, and the rapid rise and fall of his stomach jostled her, making her come down onto him harder than she’d meant to. She let out a moan.

“You tried her tits yet?” Shrapnel asked, his voice mischievous. “Always makes her lose it.” 

Lone shuddered at that– the way they spoke about her like she wasn’t right here between them. 

Something about it felt taboo, and... exhilarating.

“Yeah, wanted to hold off a bit, but– Shit, she’s already clenchin’ on me just thinking about it. Alright darling, don’t fuss.” 

With that, she felt the roughness of Flak's palms, the firmness of his worn fingers grasping around either breast, giving them both an appreciative squeeze. 

A moan escaped her, suddenly at first, and then she carried it on, making it clear to her partners, the pleasure they were bringing her.

“Feel that?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Flak breathed out, and his hips bucked up to meet her, driving the head of his cock against her g-spot with enough force to capture the breath from her. 

“Hmph, could feel her pulse through her clit.” Shrapnel’s voice was growing rougher by the moment, his free hand surely aiding in that building arousal as he stroked audibly over his length behind her. 

Her pleasure-addled mind leapt at the idea of taking him next.

Lone licked her lips as her heart raced in her chest. 

“Know I tell you this all the time, but these’r beautiful, Lone.” 

Flak’s hands rolled over her tits, his thumbs rubbing deliciously over the little points of her nipples as their paces increased in tandem. She felt his cock growing harder, his muscles clenching tighter as Flak feasted on her lewd visage, as he grew closer to his release by the second. 

“Alright.” He strained out with one last pinch of his fingers over a nipple, before his hands retreated down to her waist. “Tha’s enough. Gonna finish in that pretty mouth, sweetheart. Give ol’ Shrap a go at ya.” 

“Bout fucking time.” Shrapnel actually chuckled the words out, the prospect lightening his usual balky mood. 

Lone obediently rose up, letting Flak’s erection slip out of her before readjusting herself on the bed, scooching back until her mouth was level with his slick, reddened cock. 

“Mm, now that’s a sight. Could just die happy right now with you two looking down at me like that.” Flak– in turn– shifted himself so the three of them could fit comfortably on the large mattress. 

Lone laid down, letting her breasts rest on the bed between Flak’s spread legs as one hand settled on his thigh and the other grasped his length and pointed it towards her. She felt Shrapnel’s hands on her hips then, as his touch encouraged her ass to raise higher, until she was level with his waiting cock. 

Shrapnel was thicker than Flak, and Lone felt her entrance strain against his tip as he plunged inside. He didn’t ease, not like Flak, but shoved all the way in in one breathtaking thrust. She was glad, then, that her mouth wasn’t yet around her partner’s member as her teeth gritted together. 

“Fuck…” Shrapnel said on a sigh, “Feels like coming home.” 

“Yep.” Flak agreed, a soft smile at his hard mouth as Lone moved now to wrap her lips around his glistening tip. “She’s our girl, alright.” 

Her moan vibrated over Flak’s cock as she took him deeper, as his words made her shiver in pleasure. 

Shrapnel began a swift pace behind her, shoving Flak further down than she meant to take him with each thrust from behind. 

“You look good too, babe.” 

She felt Shrapnel’s cock give a little jerk within her at the praise directed at him. 

He tried not to show it, but they all knew. He was weak for it. 

“So intense, lovin’ on our Lone.” He paused to let out a sigh, as Lone ran her tongue over that sensitive place just at the base of his cockhead. “Should see the way she’s looking up at me right now. Just begging for you, heh.” 

“I believe it.” Shrapnel's grunt sounded behind her, and a firmer thrust had her nose pressing forcefully into the curly hairs over Flak’s pubic bone. His tip hit the back of her throat, and tears sprung to her eyes as she gagged, but instantly, Flak’s hands went to the back of her head, as he guided her over him at the pace of his choosing. 

“Look how– fuck– how desperate she is for us, Flak. Gagging and clenching and moaning and, ahh, still wants more. Greedy little whore, I say.” 

“Aw…” Flak’s bottom lip pouted, a mock-sympathetic expression on his face as he watched her eyes– distant and foggy with pleasure– begin to cross at her breathlessness, at the overwhelming bliss of Shrapnel stretching her, grinding against the most tender places within her. “But only a whore for us.” 

Flak’s thumb brushed a hair from her face, before he allowed her to pull back and catch her breath. 

Lone took less than half a moment, gulping air like a fish out of water, before plunging forward and working in earnest against her partner’s throbbing erection. He was close, so close, and she craved the heat of his release on her tongue. 

“Look, ah, at her.” Shrapnel panted, “Not even denying it. Look at her swallowing you.” 

But Flak couldn’t look, he couldn’t banter anymore. His head was cocked back, his mouth open as his hips canted upwards on the bed, as Lone sucked and licked at him like a woman possessed, and finally, he exploded onto her waiting tongue. 

Flak and Shrapnel both groaned, and Lone couldn’t decipher then, too, if she’d come as well, as focused as she was on taking all she was given, on siphoning Flak’s release from him until he was all but trembling. Sweat and salt and him were all she could taste; her partners’ hands, Shrapnel’s still-thrusting cock were all she could feel as– not a moment later– Shrapnel too burst inside her. 

A symphony of breaths, of moans left the three lovers as they writhed and savored one another’s ecstasy. Everything was hot, wet, sticky, musty. The room reeked of sex, their skin glistened and cum dripped out of Lone from both ends as finally, Shrapnel eased his length out of her and she pulled off of Flak’s, now softening, cock. 

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.

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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.” 

Tit Fucking with Mr. Burke x F! Lone

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!!! 🎃🦇🕯

Thank you guys all so much for reading and participating in this little kinktober event, it was a blast and something I was really on the fence about doing, but it ended up just being so fun 😁

Now, here is our bonus, ~mystery~ character. As for me, it's hard to find a character more unsettling than the mysterious Mr. Burke, and I just thought he'd be a good fit for this spooky holiday finale 😅

I hope you all love it! ❤

And again, thanks so much for reading! I'll be back to regular posting soon, and will likely have some updates coming up about requests as well. And if y'all have any holiday-type event ideas for December, feel free to let me know!! It'd be fun to do something for those as well ☺

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: Tit Fucking, hand job, first times, coercion (sort of), “thank you” sex, sexual favors, older man/younger woman, grooming aspects, sub/dom dynamics, light belittling/degrading, pet names, cum eating, cumshot, little bit of aftercare.

4.4k words.

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“Your father needn’t be proud of your accomplishments.” Burke’s hands stroked over yours softly, his fingers cold against your skin. Colder than they had any right to be in a living person. 

“He doesn’t understand. You acted selflessly. For the benefit of many, at the expense of a few measly scrabblers.” 

You swallowed hard, eyes still downcast and unsure. Burke’s lips thinned to muted line as his hand grasped yours tightly. 

“You are listening to me, aren’t you? I know you wouldn’t come to me for advice without taking it.” 

“Y-yes. Mr. Burke. Sir.” You stuttered, and your eyes suddenly drew up to meet his, still concealed by his shades, even in the dim light of his hotel room. “I hear you, and I understand what you’re saying, it’s just…” 

“Yes?”

You bit your lip until it pained you, blinking the quickly gathering tears from your eyes and willing your voice to come out stronger than you felt. 

“He hates me now. My own father… And I think, I don’t know, I think he might be right to hate me.”

Burke tutted at that, even as a tear escaped your eye and cascaded down one youthful cheek. 

“You’re shedding tears over the man who left you?” He gently reached to brush the tear from your cheek with the back of his hand. “Left you alone, to fend for yourself? What right does your father have to judge you, when it was him who forced you into such a desperate position?” 

Your brows furrowed, and you weren’t sure if it was right, but it was… Everything he was saying was making sense. 

“Tell me, Lone, why did you come to me? Now? To ask me about your father?” 

You opened your mouth, but no words left you. You were at a loss. Looking down, almost in embarrassment, you shrugged your shoulders. 

“Mm. I think you do know.” He spoke gently with that deep voice, soothing your battered conscience as he brought his hand down to grasp at your chin, encouraging your eyes to meet his again. 

“I think you need me. Or someone like me. Your father… He’s not all you believed him to be.” Your eyes stayed locked to his shaded ones as his hands resumed their grasp on yours. His touch was as insisting as the words he spoke. “You desire support, you desire someone who will believe in you, guide you, as a father is meant to. But yours has betrayed you.”

“He made me feel like I betrayed him.” Your voice shook as you tried to hold back another wave of tears. 

Burke’s eyebrows creased together, and you could’ve sworn you saw a hint of sympathy. 

“Of course he did. No one ever wants to believe that they are in the wrong. But he was, wasn’t he?”

Tentatively, you nodded to the man seated beside you. He brought his cold hand back up to your face, icy fingers brushing away a strand of hair from your eye, and tucking it behind your ear slowly, carefully. 

“He was the selfish one. But he’ll never understand. He didn’t see you. Didn’t see you like I did. When you were so in need of support.” 

“Y-you… You helped me.” You said quietly, realization settling into your mind as he guided you through your memories, through your father’s actions and how they affected you.   

“Mmhm. I did.” He said almost somberly. “I had to, when I saw the way you looked so lost.” Burke’s fingers stroked down over your cheek, your jaw, your throat, and you felt your cheeks warm at his soothing touch.

“I don’t think I ever would’ve made it this far without you.” Your thoughts spilled from your lips as his words filled your head, as his touch muddled your brain. 

“That’s why I did it. I saw that you were in need. I saw the way we could… benefit one another.” 

You nodded at that too. Whether or not all that he was saying was true, you had no reason not to believe him. And it was easy. Much easier than admitting that you were a monster, a murderer. Like your father had said you were, like he believed. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Burke.” 

“What for?” His hand was distractingly close to the zip of your vault suit, his fingers tracing over your collar in a way that could only be described as sensual. 

“I don’t think I ever thanked you for helping me.” You continued, even as your heart pounded in your chest. “For bringing me here, giving me this opportunity.” 

The smallest of grins tugged at his lips. 

“I believe you’re right, I also don’t recall you ever thanking me.” His fingers clung to your zipper as he spoke, and slowly, so slowly that you weren’t even entirely sure it was happening, he began to tug it downwards. “But my dear, there is still time for that.” 

“Sir?” Your eyes widened as his pace grew quicker, as, in one fluid motion, Mr. Burke pulled the zipper all the way down to your waist, and you felt cool air rush over your partially exposed chest. 

He hummed as you watched his gaze flit downward from behind his shades. His miniscule grin broadened somewhat, and you felt yourself flush with newfound heat. 

No one’s ever seen this part of me. No one but doctors, anyway. Was this… Was this okay?

“You’re a very beautiful girl.” His smooth voice poured over you, dousing your panic and fueling that unfamiliar desire boiling in your gut. “And I can think of many ways in which you can communicate your thanks to me…”When his smoldering gaze drew back to you, when one of his hands rose to pull the concealing shades from his pale face, you felt like you’d been doused in ice water. 

“If you will have me.” He finished.

It was sobering, his intense look as icy as his touch. You couldn’t recall ever gazing upon his unshaded eyes before. 

Unwittingly, you nodded to him, and a fiery glint leapt into those cool, hard eyes. 

“Very good.” 

You remained still, your eyes simply observing as he brought his hands to your shoulders. He slid the fabric of your vault suit down over your arms, gathering the material at your wrists before freeing your whole upper body from it. 

Your bra was simple. An off-white cotton that you’d worn the day you fled the vault. It was stained now, no longer pristine, but it did what it was supposed to. You’d never imagined anyone else seeing it.You’d always felt like you’d be more… prepared for something like this to happen. 

Embarrassment dimmed that glow broiling in your stomach, making you feel sick for a moment. 

Mr. Burke paid it no mind though. He never skipped a beat, as his hands trailed back up your sensitive sides, and made their home resting over the cups of your bra. 

“Have you ever… thanked anyone before, dear one?” 

You immediately understood the implication, and your embarrassment renewed itself. A moment passed, and you almost decided to lie to him, to make up some story about a quick tryst with some classmate in the vault, but in the end, you decided against it. 

You could trust him, right?

“N-no. Sir.” 

“Mm.” His hands began to knead over the fabric of your bra, pressing it into your breasts with each firm motion. “It’s as I thought, then.” 

You swallowed hard, hoping it wasn’t obvious that you were beginning to sweat. 

What the hell is going on? It’s freezing in here.

“You really are a vault-dweller.” He chuckled lowly at that sentiment, and it was a strange sound. More unnerving than anything else about him, more unsettling than anything else you’ve ever heard. 

I can trust him, right?

Your mind was a tangled jumble of thoughts and emotions, but no matter your own reservations, Burke showed no such uncertainty. His hands wrapped around your body, leaving the cups of your bra to move to the clasp, to unfasten it with cool, deft fingers. 

“I would not take all from you this first time, child.” 

Your brows furrowed at the name, offended by the naivety it suggested. 

I’m not a child. You wanted to refute, you wanted to remind him of all that you’ve been through, but then you remembered. He was there. He knew of all that you’ve done. And yet, he still sees you this way. As an inexperienced child. 

Out here, in the wastes, maybe that’s what you were. Maybe that’s why you needed him. 

“I shall do more to deserve that thanks later. For now though…” He pulled away your bra, drawing the straps down your arms and slowly revealing you to him. Your weighty breasts spilled downwards without the garment’s support, and you heard a low sigh leave his throat. 

Looking down, there was a distinct bump in his dress trousers, the fine fabric tenting upwards as his gaze rested over your bare breasts. 

“Very nice. Better than I would’ve hoped.” 

You looked away at his praise, certain that a blush was spreading from your cheeks and over your ears, down your exposed chest. 

“Not like the women of the wastes, so sinewy and small. I’ve heard tell of the benefits of being raised in a vault, and you, my dear, are no exception. I’ve never seen such fine breasts.” His hands reached out again, grasping now at the sensitive skin and sending shivers of electricity up your spine. 

No one’s ever touched you there before. 

“So soft. So plush, dear one.” He licked his lips, his tongue a startling pink over the paleness of his face. “So much larger than I’ve seen in one so young.” 

“I’m not that young.” Your addled mind argued, and Burke only chuckled. 

At that, your cheeks heated with more than arousal.

What? I’m not. I’m 20. I’m an adult.

“Fine, then. Larger than I’ve seen in someone without kids of her own.” 

The heat of your anger eased at his words, and at his actions. Burke’s hands were kneading over you deliciously, his fingers pressing into the skin and pinching at your sensitive nipples periodically, each time they squeezed sent another shock of lighting through your veins. You felt the build up of all his touching, of his hot breath and hotter words gathering deep in your gut.

“I want you to do something for me.” He whispered, and your eyes blinked open. 

You hadn’t even realized they’d fallen shut. 

“You think you can do that? To show me your thanks?” 

You nodded, but you felt your heart leap in your chest all the same. 

He smiled, but didn’t say a word, as his hands left your breasts. He stood up from the foot of the bed where you were both seated, and strolled leisurely to his nightstand, and opened the drawer. 

You were practically vibrating with anticipation by the time he settled down beside you again. His movements were so slow, and you hadn’t seen what it was he grabbed from within the drawer. 

“Would you like to do the honors, or would you like me to?” 

Your brows furrowed until you saw his hand gesture to the tent in his pants, to the straining button and zipper. 

“I-I can.” You tried to sound firm, confident. You were a grown woman, making a decision to be with this man. You could unzip his pants for goodness sake. 

I can. 

You took a shaky breath, willing for it to be quiet as it left your lips. Burke looked on, his gaze appraising you as you slowly scooted towards him on the bed. 

“Ah ah, sweet one. I’d like for you to kneel for me.” 

Your brows furrowed, and you opened your mouth to speak, but the gentleman beat you to it. 

“Trust me, it’ll be easier that way.” 

“Alright…” Shifting yourself off the bed, you settled on the carpeted floor between his spread knees, looking up to him with glistening, earnest eyes. 

His expression softened at your sweetness, at the look of your half-bare form kneeling below him, at the blush that spread across your skin and the remaining tears still within your eyes from their earlier talk. It almost pained him to be the one to ruin you. Almost. 

Oh, but this would be fun. 

He couldn’t wait to see you in a month’s time. 

You swallowed as you brought your hands slowly to his crotch, feeling his firmness there before removing a single layer of clothing. His hands moved to yours, and he guided you to his button. 

You popped it, and went then to his zipper, and promptly pulled it down, as though worried you’d lose your nerve if you waited any longer. 

The fabric of his trousers parted quickly at the pressure of his hardened length straining upwards into the whiteness of his tight briefs. Your eyes went to him. 

“All of it, if you please.” He said simply, one of his hands going to graze softly over your cheek. 

Nodding, your eyes went back downwards, following the movement of your hands as your fingers tugged at his waistband. You took a breath, and pulled downwards, revealing him. 

Just as no one had ever seen you before this day, you had never seen these parts of another. Men shirtless, sure,  not often, but you had. This though? This part of a man, you’d only ever seen in books. 

He noticed your anxiousness, and as you gawked at the strange, pale rod of flesh, he shimmied his briefs and trousers downward until the fabric piled at his ankles. 

“It’s alright. It won’t hurt you.” 

There was amusement in his voice, so maybe it wasn’t meant to sound condescending, but it sure as hell did. 

“I-I know.” 

“I won’t hurt you.” He clarified, and you felt yourself release the breath you’d been holding. 

“Here.” His hand met yours again, where it rested against the mattress, and he brought it forth, to press your fingers to his stiff cock, until you wrapped your hand around him. A soft sigh spilled from his lips as you gripped him, and he closed his eyes in bliss, shielding you from his cold gaze. 

Mr. Burke’s hand guided yours slowly over him, working your hand up and down his shaft, and your eyes never left it. It was almost like this body part had a mind of its own, you mused, as you watched it grow firmer still, as you felt it pulse and then twitch in your hand as you moved over his shaft. Pearlescent liquid seeped from the tip, and your expression grew curious as you watched the color of his skin change, that paleness turning a darker shade, almost pink as you felt wetness slide down from the oddly-shaped tip.

“That’s very good, Lone.” His voice came out strained, and now you were the one smiling. It was nice, being able to affect someone this way. It was different, but it warmed your insides and made your heart flutter in your chest.  “Just lovely, but I want you to try something else.” 

“Okay.” You were feeling better now, seeing the way your hand made him grow with arousal, hearing how his voice was affected by the pleasure you were bringing him. It felt nice, and you were eager to try more. 

“Release me a moment.” 

You pulled your hand from him, and your eyes widened as you watched the way his cock sprung up, still standing tall and dark as it bobbed against his stomach without the help of your hand or his. You had to hold back a giggle at the strange sight. 

“Now, press your fine breasts together for me.” 

Again, your brows furrowed at him, but you did as he asked, reaching up and pressing them against each other firmly. 

From beside him, Mr. Burke pulled out a curious bottle. 

The thing he grabbed from the drawer. 

It looked somewhat familiar, like something you’d seen in your father’s office, but… different. 

It felt strange though, and colder even than him, as Mr. Burke popped open the cap and squirted a generous amount of the transparent fluid onto your breasts. 

“Rub this lubricant between them, please.” 

You did as he asked, learning now not to question these strange requests. Learning, slowly, to trust him in this capacity. 

He grinned as he watched your hands work over the plush flesh, watching with rapt attention as the lubricant made your skin glisten in the meager light, as the excess of it slid down the center of your chest towards your stomach. Mr. Burke’s hand reached out, and he scooped the extra liquid onto his fingertips, and brought them then to his cock where it was bobbing with want against his stomach, leaving his own wetness there. 

“Come closer, dear.” He stroked his wet fingers over his cock as he said it, and you did as he bid, rising to your knees before shuffling forward a few more inches. 

“Here.” His hand released his member, and both went to your breasts. The pressure of his touch dragged you even further forwards, where he grasped at his cock and held it to your chest. 

“Press them together again, my sweet.” 

As you added pressure with your hands, squeezing his erection between your two pillowy breasts, he groaned softly, and you smiled again. 

It felt… good, to make him feel good like this. 

His hips thrust up off the bed, driving his cock through your cleavage forcefully, increasing the friction against him. You caught on to the motion quickly, moving your chest downward as he pressed up, and feeling his hot shaft shove roughly up and down with the slickness that coated you. 

You knew the friction he was getting was lovely, judging by the sounds spilling from him, from the way his brow furrowed and his breath picked up, but it was surprisingly nice for you as well. The constant friction upon your sensitive tits, the way his voice was warming you from the inside out, the mere sight of him, it made that flame dance in your belly. 

You felt something else new, something else strange. Wetness seeped into your underwear, you could feel the coldness of the liquid against your heat, and you found yourself panting at the growing need surging through you. 

Another pressure was added to your breasts, as his hands settled there. He let you keep the pressure over him, let you control the pace at which you thrusted your chest down against him, but his hands came to simply touch you. A considerable gush of slick seeped into your panties as he set his thumbs over both your nipples, rolling the buds under his firm touch with each movement of the two of you against one another. 

A moan escaped your throat, and your eyes closed, matching his, as your bliss built up in your body. You yelped as he thrust particularly hard up into your chest, his hands grasping at you almost painfully as he grew harder, as he grew more desperate. 

“You’re so lovely, dear one.” 

His voice came out unrefined, still deep and imposing, but also strained and uncharacteristically shaky.

“You feel better than I imagined. So soft. So warm.” 

“Mmhm.” All you could do was hum. Your eyes were still closed in bliss at the feel of his hands over you, at the sound of his praise. 

You could feel the way your nipples were hardening beneath his ravenous touch, another strange and new sensation, but you didn’t question it. 

This was all new. And it was all exciting. And you wanted more. 

Burke groaned again, and gave another harsh thrust. The deep sound went straight to your gut, making you shudder. 

“Love the sounds you're making, sir.” 

You found your voice, and he hummed in response. 

“Ah, you do?” His breathing was exceptionally labored this time, it fanned your building pleasure. “You’ll adore what comes next, my sweet.” 

You nodded to him, hoping it was true, hoping for some end to all of this build up you felt within you. 

Even with all of the quick, heated motions, you felt his cock throb between your breasts, and he grunted between gritted teeth. 

“I’m so close. Only a moment more.” 

Close?

Your brows furrowed, but you made no move to question him, only continued your motion in earnest, pressing your hands together so hard you felt like your tits were about to pop, until it all stopped. It was so sudden, the way his hands released your breasts, the way he pulled his cock out from between them, the way one hand moved so quickly to stroke vigorously over his red, aching erection, until he did just as he’d hinted to. 

A most glorious groan left the deep recesses of his throat as he squeezed his hand one final time over his cock, and something white and hot was spilling out of him and onto your chest. 

You yelped in surprise, your hands releasing your breasts as you looked down to see the beads of white splattering over you in forceful spurts. His breath left him in hard pants, and his eyes were squeezed shut in bliss, and still, you felt him affecting you, more so than ever. Even though he didn’t have a hand on you, just the sensation of him, of this release of his, was enough to make another gush of something spill out into your panties. 

The spurts were weakened now, mere drops oozing from his tip as Burke wrung the last of this liquid out onto you. You looked up at him with curious eyes as his slowly opened. 

“There we are, my dear one. That is a proper way to thank me, surely.” 

You laughed at that a bit, a strange elatedness overtaking you as the heated sensation lingered in your belly. 

“You did so well for me. I would’ve never known you hadn’t done this before.” 

He smiled at you as you looked away in embarrassment, and his eyes caught on the sight of his cum spilled over your flawless breasts. 

“My goodness, sweetheart. What a mess I’ve made of you.” 

“I.. I don’t mind.” You told him, still unable to meet his gaze. 

“Mm. But I do. Can’t have you leaving here looking like that.” 

The gentleman tutted to you as he reached a hand out, pressing his fingers into one of the more generous accumulations of his seed. He rose his fingers to the light, looking on with hard brows, before extending his hand out again, right in front of your face. 

“Here. If you wish to thank me further.” 

Your gaze swept back to him from where it had rested on the floor beside the mattress, and quickly, you noted a few new strange things. His breath had slowed again, his paleness returning to both the skin of his once-heated face, and to his previously-darkened cock, which was now slowly softening and deflating, looking stranger now than it had when it was fully hard. You blinked at him, and then you noticed the obvious. His fingers, coated in that soupy white liquid, thrust forward towards your face. 

“H-how do I–” 

“Your mouth, dear one.” He answered so quickly, he must’ve known you were going to ask. 

He hasn’t steered me wrong yet. You decided, wetting your lips with your pink tongue and slowly easing your head forward. 

It too was odd. Almost unpleasant, but not quite. It was a bit musty, but salty, and now it was cold from the air as you wrapped your lips around his fingers. It was strange, but it was undeniably him. And that made it okay. 

You drew your tongue dutifully over the coated digits before sucking lightly until you were sure they were clean of his own spend. 

“Well, my dear,” He spoke so softly, a smile lighting up his balmy features, “Color me impressed. You did that just as well as anything you’ve done this evening. I feel… thoroughly appreciated.”

You blushed again at his praise. 

“I mean it, Lone, I truly do. You are a fine woman. I’m looking forward to seeing the way you progress in this world.” He did up his pants then, pulling them back up and tucking himself away, looking as refined as ever as you stayed kneeling on the floor with your torso still bare to him, with your chest still messily glistening with his spend and the lubricant he’d used. 

“Next time you seek to thank me, I have many ideas.” He stood up and turned away from you, going to return the bottle of lube back to his nightstand. “Yes, many ideas… Ways to monitor your progress.” Mr. Burke paused as he turned back to you, looking upon you and through you all at once as he remained lost in thought. 

“Ways that I guarantee you will enjoy thoroughly as well.”

In the next moment, he was moving towards you again. He pulled a square of fabric from his suit pocket, dropping it into your lap as he passed your kneeling form. 

“Clean yourself with that, my sweet.” 

You did as he said, wiping his spend and the excess lube from your chest before sliding your arms back through your sleeves, and doing up your zipper. You still felt a wetness between your legs as you stood up, but you tried to ignore it as you headed towards the door. 

Maybe next time I’ll find out what that means. If… If there is a next time. 

Your bra was thrust into your hand as you approached the exit, and Mr. Burke gave you one final, small grin as you pulled the garment from his grasp. 

“Come and see me again soon, dear one. I have more to show you.”

You felt your legs shake at his request, your heart and stomach fluttering as though filled with a million wind-swept wisps of paper. 

“I have more that you can thank me for.” He nearly growled the last bit, his voice was so deep, and as you walked out the door, he placed his shades back over his eyes, and his smile hardened to that familiar smug look he always wore. 

Grooming with Jericho x g/n! Lone

Man, oh man... something possessed me when I was writing this 😅 What can I say? Jericho is my guilty pleasure 😈

I hope you all like it! 😁

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: Grooming, praise kink, light corruption kink, dom/sub dynamics, blow jobs, face-fucking, come swallowing, gagging, breathplay (sorta), unhealthy relationships, toxicity, pet names, aftercare (but only a tiny bit).

2.8k words.

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“No, no, kid. You’re doin’ it all wrong.” Jericho grasped at your hair firmly, pulling you back and roughly away from his half-hard cock. “What did I fuckin’ say about you using those little hands o’ yours, huh?” 

You bit your lip, eyes downcast and brows flinching from the sting in his voice. 

“You fuckin’ deaf?” 

You shook your head, moving your hands away from him and to the floor, where you slid them firmly underneath your shins, pinning them to the ground. 

“Good.” He gave you a single nod, his free hand reuniting the end of his cigarette with his lips. “Now, start again.” 

The fingers in your hair loosened, remaining against your head for guidance alone as you set your sights back between Jericho’s legs. 

“There it is.” He murmured as you skipped over your usual kitten licks, which only ever seemed to illicit a glare in the ex-raider, and straightaway wrapped your plush lips around his sensitive tip, hollowing your cheeks and sucking until you felt him begin to grow steadily against your tongue. 

You were rewarded with the sweet sound of Jericho’s throaty groan as you delved deeper, taking his mostly-hard cock to the back of your throat and only stopping when you felt you were about to gag. His eyes locked to yours, his dark, blown pupils meeting your teary, earnest gaze as your expression begged for his praise. 

It thrilled you like nothing else. Even his mouth on yours, his rough hands stroking over your sex, the filthy words he whispers against your ears, nothing riles you like the sound of his approval. It was so rare, you felt as though each word he said in favor of you would be his very last, but he relented just enough that deep inside, you knew that wasn’t the case. It stuck with you. When he was proud of you, when you did a good job, when you took him well, when you listened to him and followed his instructions, just the chance of hearing any of those simple words, and you were prepared to do anything. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, “I love that sound. When you choke on me.” 

He took a thoughtful puff of his cigarette and closed his eyes. 

“Do it again for me, sweetheart.” 

Your body shuddered at the way his words made your mind melt. You couldn’t deny him. Not anything. 

You pressed forward eagerly, even knowing the discomfort that was coming, you took him into your throat with enthusiasm, choking the instant the hot head of his cock grazed the back of your throat. A dry retching sound filled the room, followed by desperate slurping as you tried to control the flow of drool streaming to your chin messily, and Jericho sighed. 

“Just like that.” 

You smiled, even with his cock filling your mouth and throat lewdly, spittle spilling out the side of your lips, you smiled at his beaming words. You pulled back to breathe, sucking hard at the head of his cock and dragging your tongue over the tip, stimulating him as you found a moment of respite from the prodding, painful thrusts he asked you to perform.

“Still need some work though.” 

Your eyes widened as his hand gripped your hair tightly, shoving your face forward until he couldn’t shove anymore. You choked, stomach heaving as another pained noise left your throat around the crude appendage filling it so fully. Jericho didn’t relent this time, didn’t allow for your foolish respite. You could hear him now, without having to open his mouth, his message was clear. 

Your discomfort is what?

N-nothing. Sir. 

You heard the conversation in your head. As you always seemed to when put into these situations. It’d been early on in your arrangement. You wanted to learn, and damn, did he want to teach. Teach you how to be good. Good for him. You didn’t know quite why. Maybe he was persuasive, maybe he was intimidating, or maybe it was the thrill. The way his dominance made you feel safe, cared for, even in a brutal and controlling way. It felt good to let go. 

Nothing…? You heard him trail off expectantly in your mind.

Nothing compared to your pleasure. Sir. 

That’s it. Good boy/girl. 

You shuddered, as you always did, at the memory of it. It didn't matter if it was true or not anymore. Whether you suffered or not, as long as Jericho was happy, was pleased, so were you. It was even better than your own pleasure. 

His hand pulled back only an inch or so, pushing forward again with force behind it, the jab to the back of your throat causing tears to spring from your eyes and flow down your cheeks. He continued a few more moments, a few more thrusts, each gagging you and making your stomach muscles clench just as hard as the last. You could feel your own arousal burning in your core. 

On the next push into your throat, you choked, and he stayed there, his hand holding firmly to the back of your head as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and tapped it at the ashtray on the table beside him. 

“Look at me, kid.” You opened your streaming eyes, oblivious to the fact you’d even closed them. 

This is why you need him. A voice echoed off the walls of your mind. 

He looks out for you. He rights your wrongs. He makes you better. The best version of yourself you can be. 

You nodded subconsciously, the motion pressing the head of his dick further into your throat than you ever thought he could go, and he held you there. 

“Now, swallow.” 

Your eyes widened as panic rose in your chest. 

H-how? 

Your eyes seemed to plead with him for the answer, and Jericho only tutted his tongue, placing his cigarette back between his lips. 

“You can swallow around my dick, sweetheart. You think I’d ask you to do it if it were impossible? Just gotta try it.” 

Determination swirled in your belly at his words. 

He’s right. He’d never ask me to do something impossible. Depraved, maybe. Painful. But not impossible. He wants to make me better. 

I can trust him.

Your eyebrows drew together, and your throat flexed, but all you managed was another gag. Another pained sound left you as you tried again, as you tried and failed to swallow around the thick girth inside you. 

Is he sure it’s possible?

You doubted briefly, fresh tears flowing down your cheeks at another failed attempt. 

Jericho groaned at the pressure around him, each painful gag stimulating his cock deliciously and pulling those lovely sounds from you, pulling more drool and tears to muss your face and make you look as depraved as he aimed to make you. 

“Better figure it out quick, sweetie. ‘M not lettin’ you up to breathe ‘til you do it.” 

Your heart pounded in your chest, lungs beginning to burn as panic rose within you. Another try, another failure, another gag. Your body heaved, starved lungs trying to pull breath through your nose, but he was too far down your throat for that to be an option. You tried again, sputtering, mind going fuzzy with the lack of oxygen to your brain, and you became desperate. You choked on your own drool as you tried to breathe around the blockage in your mouth and throat, your vision blurring slowly to black as your chest heaved for air. 

“C’mon. Told you you could do it.” Jericho’s voice sounded through the darkness clouding your vision. 

“You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you, angel?”

One more renewed charge of electricity drove through your bones, your muscles, and cleared your vision, gave you strength enough for one last attempt, and you were successful. Jericho grunted as your throat constricted around his length, the rough walls of your esophagus massaging the tight skin of his cock without that telltale jerk of your gag reflex. His hand loosened, and your head shot backwards, stimulating his length still as he was dragged out of your throat and mouth, until only the tip of his glistening cock remained on your lips. 

His dick twitched at the feel of your hot, stuttering breaths over him, lungs gulping cold air painfully through your ravaged throat. 

Your eyes were still on his, tears streaking down your reddened face and spittle still connecting your mouth to his cock where he pulled his hips and it settled in front of you. Jericho’s lips spread to a half-smile, his hand stroking gently over your hair as he looked down at you in approval, his bobbing cock twitching with the same such praise his eyes were delivering. 

He said nothing, but reached for the cigarette in his mouth, putting it out in the ashtray as he relaxed further into his chair. His dark eyes looked at you pointedly, and just as your breaths began to even out, you felt his hand pressure the back of your head again. 

You nodded once, a small smile at your glistening lips, and took him into your mouth again. His cock was shockingly cold against your tongue, the cool air clinging to the wetness before it delved back into your hot mouth. You worked him as you did before, sucking harshly and hollowing your cheeks, before taking him to the back of your throat. Dragging your tongue at the underside of his shaft distractingly, you mentally prepared to dutifully swallow over him again, remembering the look of satisfaction on his face as your vision vignetted and you finally were able to do as he pleased. 

You wanted that again. 

You needed it. 

Even if it meant you choking a dozen times, suffocating yourself to the point of losing consciousness, you needed it again. 

It was dangerous to crave someone's approval so much, you knew, but even that knowledge didn’t make that utter need for it stop. It was like a drug. No, it was stronger. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you pushed forward, taking him all the way into your throat, and swallowed. Or… tried to. You gagged again, and heard Jericho release a dry chuckle above you. 

Determined, brows furrowed, you pressed even further, until your nose was flush to the bed of curls on his pubic bone, and constricted your throat around him again. 

“Fuck!” Jericho exclaimed, hand tightening– unwittingly this time– in your hair, as his hips bucked up at the feel of your throat clenching around him like a vice. You still coughed at the end, some spittle and Jericho’s salty pre-cum dripping down your throat, but you’d done it. The man above you sighed, pulling your head back and relieving the pressure, and you felt your stomach clench in pleasure at the sound of his contentment. 

Spurred on by your success, you pulled back only long enough to draw in another breath, before plunging down onto him, taking him deep and pressing your nose to his skin once more. You watched as Jericho’s head fell back in bliss, his foul mouth quieted not by a cigarette, but by the sheer pleasure your mouth was bringing him with each harsh suck, each tender lick and forced swallow around his imposing shaft, and you smiled around your mouthful at the sight. His hand was nothing more than a bit of support now, your head and neck moving freely to take him the way you knew he pleased, to show him that you were capable, that you listened, that you were good. Good for him. Would always be good for him. 

No one could bring him pleasure like you could, no one could care that much, could make him the center of their world like you could– like you did. You had to make sure Jericho would never forget that. Just as you needed him, you’d make it so it was always the other way around too. 

Jericho was getting close to his end. He was giving off the signs that you’ve come to be so familiar with. His cock pulsed heavily on your tongue, the noises spilling from his throat were gruff and guttural, his free hand reached down to join the other on the back of your head, his contact there becoming firmer, more commanding, as his hips started to buck his cock more forcefully into your throat. You whined around him, the sound sending vibrations through to where your lips squeezed at the base of Jericho’s pulsing member, and you felt your tongue begin to tingle with anticipation. 

You knew not to beg, not unless Jericho asked you to, but it was becoming more and more difficult not to make your desires transparently plain. Your hips wriggled beneath you restlessly as you felt your own arousal building in your gut, your desperation palpable with each whine, each caress of your tongue against the slit of his cock, beckoning for his release to spill into your mouth. To finally taste the delectable liquid praise of your efforts. Your body was crying out for him, as it did damn near every day, aching for his approval with each harsh thrust that had your nose squishing at the pressure against his pelvic bone, that had his balls slapping against your drool-soaked chin, that had your eyes watering and your throat clenching around him. 

He was bucking his hips wildly now, grinding the head of his cock into your throat with no time for you to swallow, or even gag around him, and all you could do was sit and wait patiently for him to find his pleasure in the warm confines of your mouth. He used you like some toy, both hands clasping at the back of your head, dragging you into him as his hips thrust up and out of his chair, moving faster and firmer with each passing moment, until he finally ceased his movement, pushing as far down your throat as he could. He held you there as you felt his cock pulse, shooting warm strings of viscous release straight down your throat. 

Jericho let out a guttural groan from above you, and you closed your eyes in bliss, reveling in the feeling of his seed filling you, the sound of his pleasure, the feel of his balls tightening against your chin with each spurt into your mouth. 

His groan dissolved to a sigh as Jericho’s hands loosened their grip on you, allowing you to pull far enough back for him to spill onto your tongue, for you to taste him as he pulsed out the last of his spend. You savored your reward, a hazy grin spreading across your face as he pulled back far enough for his cock to pop out of your mouth. 

Your jaw ached, your throat was sore and raw, eyes red, chin covered in snot and drool and cum, but you found yourself smiling happily at your success. He’d asked you to perform a task, to do it the way he liked, and you’d passed with flying colors. 

Jericho sat back in his chair, hands releasing your hair fully as he reached for his pack of cigarettes and his lighter on the table, but his eyes stayed on you. You swallowed down the last bit of the seed he’d left on your tongue, making a show of doing so dramatically, so that he knew, and he smiled at you. 

Chills ran up your spine at the sight.  

As he lit his cigarette and threw the lighter back on the coffee table, you scooted forward on your knees, pulling your hands free and placing them on his thighs before using one to guide his softening cock towards your mouth. 

He didn’t need to ask, it was one of the first lessons he taught you. 

You always clean my cock when we’re done. I don’t care where it’s been or what it’s done to ya. If you leave me messy, you’re gettin’ punished. You understand? 

You’d blushed back then, your whole face heating with the embarrassment, the crassness of his words and the thought of your actions that might take place in the future.

You’ve come a long way. 

You licked every inch of him clean as he looked down at you, taking lazy puffs of his cigarette as his dark eyes fixed with a distinct sort of fondness that only Jericho had ever given you. It was possessive, it was controlling, maybe it was toxic, but it was powerful, impassioned, relentless in the same such way your love for him was. You never would have guessed this is where the two of you would’ve ended up, but as you rose from your knees and held Jericho’s hand, as he led you to your bedroom, as he helped you wipe your face, and settled down beside you, as you curled into him, sore and ravaged, and satisfied, you couldn't imagine anything different. 

“You did well tonight, baby. Get some rest, and maybe I’ll fuck you good in the morning.”