This is a series of one shots from Fallout 3, Fallout New Vegas, and Fallout 4. I do not own any of the characters, of course.
All One Shots are in alphabetical order for your convenience.
Anything with an ➵ and a title has been reread, and (hopeful...
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I sat cross-legged in a chair, arms crossed, "Deacon, you can't just say things like that to Hancock!"
He sat on the bed, putting his ankle on his knee to slide his boots off, "Why not?"
"Because saying that shit only makes you look tough when you're not, and it just makes you seem like an asshole. And you're not. Mostly."
He smiled at me, "That's not true. I can be tough." He winked, "And rough."
I blushed, "Oh stop, I'm not in the mood. Plus, Goodneighbor hotels aren't exactly the most sanitary."
He stood up, taking my hands and pulling me to my socked feet. Deacon pulled me close to his chest, turning and pushing my back to a wall, making me inhale a small breath. He grinned at my reaction, "Sanitary isn't my main interest right now, hot stuff. Come on." He bit his bottom lip softly, "We're so busy all the time, we don't even get a second of alone time anymore."
I frowned, "Fine, but we're not done talking about you and your cockiness, alright?"
"Fine with me."
He kissed my lips kindly before moving his teeth to my neck and slipping off my shirt. He usually waited a little while, but he must have really wanted it tonight. I lifted a leg and he understood, looping his arms around me and stumbling to the small kitchen-like area, setting me on the counter and pulling his own shirt off, then going for my pants, sliding them off with ease as I reached behind my back to unhook my bra. Before it hit the floor, he pushed his chest heartily to mine, our skin pressured against one another as he kissed me again, biting my bottom lip and using his tongue how he knew I liked.
He undid his own belt, dropping his pants to his ankles and nearly tripping as he stepped out of them, going back to me and kissing me again, I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, pulling him ever so slightly closer.
He hoisted me up again, stumbling over to the bed and slipping his underwear off, and a condom on. I watched carefully as he snaked a hand down to my underwear, ridding me of it and watching my features as he rubbed a sensitive spot. I bent my knees, curling my toes into the bedsheets and moaning his name. He evenetually got tired of foreplay, and thrust into me without another word, releasing a sensual moan that made me release one of my own. He worked his hips sweetly and I ground against him, creating further passage and pleasure for the both of us.
We released in sync, as usual, and he finally pulled out, disposing of the condom and looking at me, a panting, blushing, sex-high mess on the bed, chest heaving as I caught myself. He released a small breath, looking at me, "Fuck... we... we really need to have off days more often."
He lay next to me and I chuckled tiredly, "I agree. But you're still in trouble. Your flattery doesn't work on me."
He frowned, "Really? 'Cause if I'm correct, just a minute ago you were a moaning mess, but maybe that's just from my point of view."
I couldn't reach his lips and felt too lazy to move, so I kissed his shoulder, "Oh, no, that's exactly what happened, and that type of flattery is effective..."
He propped up on an elbow, "Is that so?"
"Yeah. You should use that technique more often."
He laughed, resting his hands behind his head, "Only on you, baby. Only on you."
