#fallout npc

Aphrodisiacs with Edward Deegan x g/n!Sole

Lordy lordy, how I was SO excited to write for this man. And hopefully this doesn't disappoint!

Sorry it took so long to get out as well, some life stuff came up this past week that held me up, but it's out now! 😁

I hope you all enjoy immensely lol 😏

Also, thank you to everyone who indulged me this October! Your support (especially with some of these lesser-known characters) was absolutely amazing! ❤️ I'm going to be taking somewhat of a lil break for the next couple weeks to post everything on AO3 and recover lol, but after that, I'll post an update and see about opening up requests for the first time in... Jesus, a VERY long time. I'll talk to y'all then!!!

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: Aphrodisiacs, masturbation, fantasies, voyeurism-ish, attempted confessions, actual confessions, kissing, touching, hand jobs, affection, sweetness, cuddling.

Words: 4.6k

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The door burst open with a crash, almost rattling off its hinges in his haste, in his salacious wrath and desperation. Edward closed it just as aggressively, feeling the surface of his skin itch, feeling his breath pull in with heavy, heady gulps that had his chest straining at the seams. Sweat poured from him, in a way the ghoul didn’t even know it could, with his ruined skin. 

Is it happening? Is it… working?

He hoped so. 

After the hell he just went through? The embarrassment of the overwhelming heat that was encasing him, the labor of his breaths, the haze in his expression. Normally, he’s cool as can be, smooth, stoic, even, but he was gasping, shaking, and more so than that, he was tenting out the front of his cargo pants to the point of blunt obviousness. 

The symptoms don’t matter. He told himself, as the memory of Sole's baffled expression flashed in his foggy mind. As long as it works, none of it matters at all. 

They’ll see him, for the first time, he hoped, Sole would see what he was before he was… this. 

Edward didn’t like to wave his own flag too vigorously, no, he wasn’t a vain man, but he had been… maybe handsome was too strong a word, but he hadn’t been this, that’s for certain. Jack had reminded him time and time again, that he had been more attractive back before his ghoulification, but now he was more intimidating. It made his job of protecting the family and occasionally threatening people a bit easier, they both agreed on that account. 

When it came to Sole though… he wasn't sure he wanted to be intimidating. 

He didn’t know what he was doing, trying to get wrapped up with a pre-war widow(er) like them, but logic had nothing to do with this shit. Before them, he hadn’t cared, hadn’t minded the way he looked, hadn’t minded his solitude, his loyalty to this family and lack of contact with anyone outside of it. Edward had always promised not to dabble in Jack’s serums, no matter what outcomes they promised, but when it came to Sole, when it came to being… acceptable by their standards, he’d thought this was a good idea, thought it could make him… well, desirable was another strong word for him to use, but he at least hoped they could see him as something more than Jack Cabot’s bodyguard. 

Edward growled as he tugged his hat from his head, throwing it to the worn, wooden floor below. His room was dark, musty, and consisted of nothing more than a weapon’s trunk, a dresser and a single bed on the far side of the little room. He cast bits of armor and clothing over the whole of the floor as he moved towards that shoddy mattress, hearing it squeak and protest as he laid back on it and tugged at the stiff fabric of his cargo pants. His underwear followed shortly after, both being kicked to the base of the bed as he spread himself out on it. 

He felt he could crawl out of his own skin, hell maybe he wanted that. Maybe the transformation was happening now, but… goddamn, why was he so hard? Why was his mind so... stuck?

It’s true, he was usually thinking of Sole these days, but never this… disrespectfully. That curious expression of theirs as he excused himself from their and Jack’s meeting, the way their eyes had followed him out, the concern he saw there, right at the end. Oh, but how he craved their attention, even when it worried for him. 

He imagined the sort of expressions they’d make if he had his hands on them now, if he could’ve stayed, thrown Jack out of the dining room instead of leaving himself. He could take them over the table, lying down the dining mats to keep the wood from harshly bruising their soft skin as his hands moved over their body, as he laid overtop them, pressing them into the oaken hardness until they were arching against it, setting his mouth on them, his lack of lips, his hot tongue, hearing them gasp, feeling them grow needy beneath his worshipful touch. 

Edward’s breaths left him in pants now, very nearly moans as he found his dry, rough hand moving over his rigid, drooling cock. 

What the hell?

He hadn’t even realized he’d grabbed ahold of himself, he’d been so wrapped up in his fantasy. Already, the sensitive skin around his shaft burned with the ungentle friction of his hand, but… he couldn’t stop himself, no matter how he tried to use logic, tried to think about the pain his thrusting palm was causing him, it was even more painful to consider pulling away, to leave himself stiff and wanting. 

It was impossible, too, not to think of Sole. As much as it made him feel dirty, it made his teeth grit and his chest ache, there was nothing else in Edward’s head. No thoughts beyond them. He had no past, no present, no Cabot issues, no frustrations beyond the need to be near to Sole, the want to feel them in his arms, the gripping, dizzying necessity of feeling their warmth all around him, caressing, encasing his cock. 

It was shallow, it was rude, it was creepy, but fuck… it felt too good. 

He kept imaging it, in details like brushstrokes of a world-famous masterpiece, he saw the light in their eyes, the way their hair spread like a crown around their head, splendid and mussed from his attentions, the glisten of their spit on their lips, of his spit mingling there from their recent kisses, that vein bulging in their neck from the strain of holding back, from the greatness of the pleasure he brought them. 

“Sole, holy shit…” Edward rasped through gritted teeth, hearing the slap of skin as his hand moved rapidly over his erection, hitting the base of him with such force it had him flinching and bucking into his touch in the same movement. 

“Wish you were here.” He growled out, his voice a dry husk, breathless and scratchy. 

If they were here though, is this really what they’d want to be seeing? Want to be doing... with him?

Probably not. Edward’s mind tried to reason. Still though, shit doesn’t stop me from wanting it. Needing it. 

What the hell was in that serum? 

 The ghoul felt his cock might burst into flames with the increasing friction of his hand. He felt the foreskin catching at his textured palms, his calloused fingers, he felt pre-cum drooling down steadily, slicking what little it could as his hand tugged and bullied himself until tears sprung to the corners of his pale, bloodshot eyes. 

Sweat poured in rivers down the grooves of his flesh, unchanged, unsmoothed and still just as ghoulish as it’d been yesterday and a hundred years before that. 

If it doesn’t heal me… what will this serum do?

It was all his mind could afford to think. In short sentences, simple collections of words, as the bulk of his focus remained on Sole. Their face in the throes of pleasure, the imagined feel of them all around him. Their sweet scent, gritty but old-fashioned, somewhere between the adventures of the Commonwealth and home. The way their nails would scrape at his skin, the way they’d breathe his name, the way they’d seek him out, their eyes, their lips, their affections, all for him... In this ideal, fictional headspace of his. 

Still though, Edward's imagination had his body frantically catching up, growing closer and closer to his release as he painted the image in his mind of what they’d look like in the midst of their own climactic end, brought about by his hand. The way they’d cry his name, grip tightly to his cock, pull him further into their desperate grasp as they shuddered below his frame– it was so real, his imagining of it all, that Edward went tumbling over the edge right along with them. 

The ghoul couldn’t help the gasps leaving him, the moans that he begged the drywall not to allow to pass through, just in case Sole’s meeting was over now, in case Jack came to check on him, in case the house was silent, but for him. It was no use pleading with the house though, not when his voice was so stubborn. 

Not when his imagination decided to materialize something beyond his comprehension– beyond his wildest fears. 

“Shit… Ed– I’m sorry, I should-- yeah, I'll just...”

Sole’s voice was so quiet, like it was entering his ears from another dimension; distant, like melodies from a neighbor’s radio across the street. 

He almost didn’t react to their presence at all. 

Almost. 

No true words left the ghoul, then, as he frantically pulled the scratchy blanket over his lap on the mattress. It did little to cover the way his erection still stood, stiff and stubborn, tenting the fabric as he moved to conceal it and as much else of him as he possibly could in such haste. 

Edward allowed himself one clear of his throat, before he began apologizing, explaining his actions away, pleading their forgiveness, questioning if they saw anything– all at once in a strange amalgamation of nonsense that even he scratched his head at. 

“S-sorry. Not– This isn’t– You should probably– Ah, shit, Sole…” He ended with a defeated shake of his head, feeling embarrassment of two separate types heating his ears and cheeks with each passing moment they spent looking over at him. First, was the shame of this person that he loved and admired seeing him utterly debased and wretched in his dark little room, with their name on his tongue as he did it. Second… Well, the shame that he’d tried to change himself for them, without even knowing if they were interested at all, that he’d been so desperate as to do this to himself, rather than simply be honest with them. 

Two hundred years of protecting an ancient, powerful family from all manners of incomprehensible harm, and he was still a coward. Afraid of his own feelings, afraid of rejection, afraid of his own damn skin. 

“Are you…” Their gentle voice snapped him out of his mental anguish, “I just wanted to come and check on you. After you ran out on the meeting, well… It looked like you were gonna be sick or something. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

Edward gulped, audibly and visually, and felt another wave of heat threaten to consume him, his cock jerking angrily below the blanket as a chill ran up his spine. 

Knock it off. His command to his body became more of a plea as he felt the serum bubbling up in his veins once again. 

“Wish you hadn’t seen this, Sole.” 

They didn’t leave, didn’t cringe or cry out or laugh at him, not when they first saw him, and not now. No, instead, Sole reached around and closed the door with a click behind them as they stepped into the dim little room, and made their way to sit on the far edge of his bed. 

“Are you alright?” Their bright eyes stayed locked to his, “What happened, Edward?”

His name on their lips was like a firebrand to his heart, setting it aglow with new, resounding affection that made his fingers twitch and his teeth grit together. 

“The serum…” He managed out, “Thought I could take some. See what happens, see if…” 

Edward’s own gasp interrupted him, as his body carried on with its basal needs without his consent. His fists clenched until his knuckles ached, until he felt the blood flow from his wrists halt in its tracks. 

“That’s what did this to you?” Sole blinked at him, their eyes remaining respectfully on his face as his body reacted to their voice, their proximity, the continuing effects of that damned serum.  Still though, even with all their unflappable respect for him, Edward could see they way their fingers fidgeted, the way their face seemed to heat, the way they so stubbornly made sure to keep their gaze on his face, and as far from his lap as they could without being overtly obvious.

"Jack said that he was experimenting a bit with the serums, but this is... Well..."

Sole cleared their throat as Edward mentally kicked himself.

Should've checked with the boss before trying this shit out on myself.

Idiot.

They must've seen the way he chastised himself within, for in the next moment, Sole scooted themself closer, and put a hand on his covered knee.

"I don't know if it's any of my business, really, but... Why did you take it?"

None of their business..? Edward could've laughed aloud at that. If only they knew.

"Thought it could help." He said vaguely, his voice still strained, his breath still more rapid than it had any right to be.

The place where their hand laid over his knee, even with the bed sheet keeping their skin from his, zapped life-giving defibrillations all throughout his body. It charged the blood in his veins, collected in pockets of heat in his chest, the base of his spine, the back of his head, between his legs, imprisoning the words in his head that he fought to pull out through his mouth. He wanted to tell them the truth, felt he needed to now, that they deserved to hear it, but his body demanded more. It wanted to act on his debased musings and pull Sole into his arms right now, to set his hungry mouth upon them, to tell them, not with his voice, but with the grip of his hands, the aching need of his heavy breaths, to show them, in favor of messily prying the words from his throat.

Can't do that. His true self told his body firmly, as many times as it could, to keep his hands in place on the mattress, to keep his eyes on the wall, rather than sweeping over their vault-suit clad body.

If I give myself an inch, I may not be able to stop.

That terrified him more than any other effect the serum could have on him. It scared him and made his mind and body tremble like the thought of becoming feral.

"Help what?" Sole prompted with a gentle whisper, and he could taste their breath as it washed over him. Jack's dessert coffee. Chocolate bon bons. Those sweet, frozen cherries the family has managed to keep all these years.

Edward's mouth watered.

"Edward?"

He must've been silent longer than he realized, but finally, the ghoul was able to blink, to take in a breath and hold it there, rather than panting it back out straightaway like a dog.

Maybe it's wearing off?

He could only hope.

Yet... The persisting aching firmness of his cock, the sweat collecting at the base of his back and along his chest, under his arms, it all told a different story.

"Sorry," He all but choked out the word. "I... It was for you."

Forcibly, he took the chance and set his gaze upon their face, trying to keep his body under his firm control as he took in their reaction.

"M-me? How... Why?"

Why? He let out a dry chuckle. That's a dangerous question to ask if you want to be out of here before dawn.

"Wanted to be better. Wanted to change so you could... So we..." A forceful shudder ran through his body, stilling his tongue, forcing his muscles to clench until they knotted, making his hips buck up off of the mattress until Sole was forced to pull their hand away.

"Shit--" His voice was back to a growl: low, intense, and charged with carnal desire he only dreamed he could keep at bay. "Have to leave, Sole. It's coming back."

"W-what is?" They stayed firmly, infuriatingly, next to him on the bed, their voice concerned, but also... something else.

"Edward," He felt his cock pulse and drool below the sheet at the way his name left them. "Tell me how to help you. I want to help."

"No." The ghoul shook his head, even as it fell backwards, slamming into the wall behind him as his body writhed and demanded attention.

"Please."

Fuck. He thought, his head still shaking in denial. Don't say that.

"It hurts me to see you like this. Especially if I had something to do with it."

Everything to do with it, more like.

"T-touch me."

It left him before Edward had a chance to reign it in, before his consciousness could plead with this serum-induced need of his and tell him to be patient, to speak to Sole, to tell them the whole truth, to take things slow, to make it last.

To his surprise though, instead of being offended, of scoffing and walking away, of looking disgusted or scared at his request, Sole, at last, let their eyes trail down his body. They even smiled as they bit their bottom lip, and moved their hands out towards him.

Without thinking, Edward leaned forward and into their touch, letting their palms press to the rough hills and valleys of his frame, letting them slide over his bare, glistening chest until one moved up to his face, and pulled him into a surprisingly lustful kiss.

Their passion rivalled his own, even, as they crawled almost on top of him, as their fingers thirsted for more area to touch, as they tilted their head and set their soft, warm lips upon his with vigor, kneading over his own marred mouth like his tongue held the key to their survival. It seemed theirs really did, in his case. His body needed them-- their touch-- like life needs water, needs air, needs sunshine, like a heart needs blood and a mind needs a thought. These feelings, the sensations they inspired, were a direct product of his being, but also the very reason he seemed to exist.

Edward finally gave permission for his own hands to set upon them in turn; though, he held back the force that the serum screamed to take them with. Stiffly, his palms caressed their waist, the jut of their hips, the small of their back, up to the base of their neck. He touched them like he was meant to cover them in it, like he was stained with paint meant to encase their entire being. Edward let himself kiss them, too, with the fervor this heat within him demanded. Let himself commit the shape of their lips and the sweet taste of them to his memory.

In case I never get the chance again.

He wasn't sure he'd blame them, if that was the case, but... at this point, there were many signs that pointed to something he hadn't considered.

Do they... Have they wanted me too? All this time?

Edward wished he could ask, but thoughts were like rising steam, and he wasn't able to grasp onto a single one and form it to words. Especially as Sole's hands travelled over him, as their lips left his and they moved their body downwards, adjusting so they could pull the sheet from overtop his bare form.

They did it slowly, their eyes asking before their voice could: 'Is this okay?'

He nodded to them, breathless, with his hands still firmly set upon their body, and they slid the scratchy blanket off him and to the unoccupied side of the mattress.

Sole barely took a pause, their eyes looking him over with just enough time for him to doubt their attraction-- no, their tolerance-- to and of his appearance. But then their hands were moving again, one sliding to the back of his neck, urging him back to their beckoning lips, while the other grazed over the head of his weeping cock, and took it in-hand.

"I've wanted this too, you know." Sole whispered into him, their hand moving slowly but firmly along the stiffness of his shaft, building that ever-growing heat in him to the point of pain.

Edward's mind was so addled, so distracted by their blinding touch, that he almost didn't hear what they'd just confessed. His eyes blinked open, his grip tightened unwittingly on their body as his expression pleaded 'tell me again.'

"You don't have to change a thing, Edward." Their thumb circled over the overly sensitive slit in his cock, and he pulled a hissing breath in between his teeth. "I want you just the way you are now."

Sole leaned in again, and he pressed forward more firmly than intended, thanking them with actions rather than the words he couldn't seem to muster in his current state. He moaned into the kiss, even, as their hand continued its relentless stroking, as it circled and tugged at his skin in a way more delectable than he ever seemed to master, than he ever thought was even possible.

But maybe that was because it was Sole's hand that was doing it.

They tried to pull away, to take in a much needed breath, and Edward couldn't help himself, couldn't pry his phantom lips away from their skin. He set them upon their cheek, down to their jaw, feeling the way their muscles clenched there in response, the way they shuddered when his rough lips journeyed to their sensitive neck.

Edward could feel everything.

He wasn't sure if it was the serum, or just the way his mind and heart clung to this contact-- to the fact that he was really here, doing this with Sole, with the man/woman of his dreams and most profound desires-- but he could feel every raise of a goosebump on their skin, feel their pulse thundering in their veins, could taste the essence of their being in their scent, on their flesh.

Their whole story: living before the war, the soap they'd used all those years ago, the cream they'd rubbed into their skin, and then their years locked away in their frozen prison, the hint of ice, of coolness they radiated from those long years, the ache of their great sadness, the strain of their muscles for undergoing that horrendous trauma. It was all there, beneath the touch of his lips, caressed by the heat of his breath. Edward cherished every bit of it, loved them for their scars, the same way they cared for him in spite of his own.

He didn't know why he didn't let himself see if before, didn't let himself believe it was true, but they really were a fine match.

Him and Sole... they understood each other. He knew their experiences better than any born and raised wastelander could, knew their struggles more intimately than the Cabot family ever could... and Sole knew of his own suffering more than any other human ever could.

Why'd I have to turn to extremes so soon? Risk fucking this up...

It was the only question-- the only thought-- he could stand to formulate as of now, as their grip squeezed over him, as their stiff fingers wrung his pleasure from his core out to the surface. Edward felt it building, felt the swell, the rhythm of his bucking hips grow fevered and desperate, and he felt their smile, even, before he glanced up to see it.

It was a focused sort of grin, their brows were drawn, their pupils blown wide and dark and wanting in a way that he thought it might just be his own reflection shining in them.

How could Sole look this way, for a man like me? A man, that isn't even--

The ghoul didn't have time to finish that thought, not as their thumb swiped over his tip again, as their other hand went down to join the first, massaging and kneading over his aching, burning, destitute hardness until he was holding back cries.

The meat of his wrist fit between clenching teeth, his forehead pressed to the hardness of Sole's collarbone as he leaned into the contact, aching and screaming for more with everything apart from his voice.

If Jack heard, or Wilhelmina...

If he hadn't been so occupied, he might've shuddered at the thought.

But this? Letting go, being vulnerable, allowing himself pleasure, a moment that was truly private between him and Sole? Anything was worth that. He'd lose his job, his room here, his name, his life, if it meant he could do this, see this, feel this again, with Sole by his side, in his arms, touching him this way.

He half wondered if he'd passed out in his bed after the last bout of pleasure, if he'd fallen asleep and the serum inspired the sweetest dream there was.

Sole's voice though, the feel of them, the way their scent and being surrounded him in every way... it couldn't be the case. It was sweeter than he believed reality could be, especially these days, but damnit, there was no doubt in his head that it was real.

"Let go, Edward."

Their voice was pleading with him, their hands pulling him along, never ceasing, as they brought him straight into that all-encompassing bliss. He couldn't hold back now, not at his climax, and Edward's head flew back, his muscles straining, his mouth falling open to release the most animalistic of sounds: a groan from the very base of him that had Sole writhing and gasping right along with him.

I made him sound like that. Their touch cried out as their hands squeezed and clenched until his essence was spilling out onto his clenching stomach, pouring down over their fingers and soiling the bedsheets below.

"Yes." Sole breathed, and he felt another shudder jolt through him, another spurt of seed from his pulsing cock. "That's it, hon. Let go for me."

Tears were collecting at the sides of Edward's eyes, his relief and euphoric release leaving him in trembles and heavy breaths.

It took a few moments, took the last of his pleasure to bleed out, and then Edward was back on earth, back in his room, back in this skin once more.

Sole pulled their touch from his over-sensitive cock, wiping their soiled hands carefully on the bedsheet before lying down beside him and resting their head on his shoulder. A cool hand smoothed its way over his body, making a home over his sweltering, still-heaving chest as Sole clung to him.

The serum hadn't quite worked, not the way Edward had intended it to, but... It really had worked though, hadn't it? Not the way he imagined, sure, but the end result was... close enough.

He didn't even realize it, not until his cheeks began to ache, but he was smiling, grinning toothily like a fool in love, as Sole rested against him, as he wound his arms around their form, holding them close, savoring every ounce of the person who accepted him, who didn't turn him away, who cared for him... as he was.

"Thank you." He rasped, sliding his hands over them as soothingly as he could manage.

Sole only hummed, a sweet, happy sound, and he felt the vibration of it throughout his body as they lay against him.

He felt at peace, then. He felt warm, he felt sated and valued and more content than he could ever recall before, and yet... A familiar sort of churning, a boiling sensation rose from deep inside him. His muscles twitched and his tired member gave a rousing pulse between his legs.

Edward could only swallow and do the ghoul equivalent of blushing, as Sole's wide eyes peeked up at him with one eyebrow quirked in question. Though, as he looked down at them-- in a coy, apologetic sort of way-- they still wore that fond, fiendish smile.