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rough hands drag down your sides, lips mapping out a path downward, his breath washing shakily over your skin. it’s not his intention for his touch to be so rough, but the world you live in now is not kind, butch had to learn quickly when he left the vault, and it left him with more than enough scars.
a soft, almost imperceptible sound leaves your lips, and butch’s eyes snap open. (when had he closed them?) his gaze drifts upwards, locking onto your face. those soft, soft, soft lips of yours are parted, head rolled to the side, eyes glassy as you stare down at him.
his hands settle on your hips, long fingers sinking into your flesh, adjusting you slightly on the old, worn out bed.
you’re warm. impossibly so. it has butch’s eyes slipping closed once more, lips pressing against your lower stomach to hear that sweet sound again. goosebumps rise along your flesh, a noise catches in butch’s throat when he feels sudden movement, then your fingers threading through his hair.
he’s not sure if you’ve done this, but the farthest he’s gotten since being out in the wasteland is having his dick sucked by a traveler passing through. butch didn’t get a chance to do much with her, truly he tried, but he was clumsy. and she was looking for a good, experienced time before taking her leave. at least he wasn’t left high and dry.
he never thought he’d see you again if he’s being honest. let alone join you on your mission and as someone you trusted.
despite how he treated you growing up in the vault, you still helped him when his mother was in danger and continued to speak to him when you returned. and now—now here you are, laid out on your bed in your house in megaton, partially undressed beneath him, making the softest, most addicting noises he’s ever heard, and he’s hardly done anything.
his fingers slip under the edges of your panties, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin, tracing the crease of your thighs while he places kisses to your covered mound. he notes the way your hips twitch, the way you try to arch into his touches, certain ones making your thighs tense.
pulling back slightly, he meets your gaze again, his breath hitching when you press your hand flat to your stomach, fingers spreading wide. when your hand starts to shift downwards, he notices the wet patch on your panties. it makes him freeze for a moment, mouth dropping slightly, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips.
out of instinct to see more, his fingers bunch the fabric of your panties up and pull upwards, a groan tearing from his lips right as a choked moan slips from your mouth. the material clings to your lower lips, outlining your pussy. butch’s eyes zero in on the sight. he wants to see more, wants to see you soaked completely until he can see you through your panties.
butch talked big game before the two of you ended up in your bed, stating if you wanted to get closer, all you had to do was ask, but here, now—he wishes he did more with that traveler, wishes she would’ve been kind enough to show him the ropes. because all he wants to do is make you feel good, and he’s not sure he can do that when you have him a complete and utter mess on the inside seeing you laid out beneath him.
“i—” he swallows thickly, ready to speak, to say maybe the two of you had one too many to drink and shouldn’t do this.
“butch.”
his eyes dart from your slowly moving hand to your face, eyes searching yours. the expression you’re wearing is unreadable, eyes hooded as you watch him, and his fingers twist harder into the grip he still has on your panties, causing you to arch your hips up, seeking out friction.
“butch.” a gasp this time, your free hand darting out, reaching for him. reluctantly, he releases you, forearms bracketing your head, letting you tangle your fingers in his once styled hair, tugging on the strands to pull him into a series of deep kisses. he groans into the kiss, hands cupping your face, tilting your head back, his hips move on auto, jerking forward against your cunt, the rough material of his pants harsh on your pussy causing you to whimper.
there’s something about still being partially clothed while you’re in nothing but your panties that sets him off. his hips rock against yours, a moan forced from between your lips with every thrust. the hand between your bodies grips his hip to snake its way into the back of his pants, squeezing his ass while he ruts into you.
his cock is throbbing, leaking heavily, making a mess of his underwear. you’re being a tease beneath him, rolling your hips up as best you can to feel the drag of him against your cunt. if he listens closely, he swears he can hear the wet, slick sounds of your bodies meeting.
suddenly, you’re gripping his other hip, legs splaying open to allow him more space to grind against you. butch feels like he’ll explode if he doesn’t get to feel you soon. but at the same time, having you like this feels so raw and primal. the two of you, too impatient to properly undress, your hand sneaking toward the front of his pants, urging the fly open to feel his length through the thin material of his underwear.
the wet patch staining his underwear is growing larger the longer this goes on. his tip is drooling pre down his shaft, the milky substance bleeding through the fabric to smear along your own undergarments, mixing with your arousal, turning them completely see-through. with every roll of his hips, his cock drags along your clit, and butch can feel your knees draw up around him, trembling as he brings you close to the edge.
there’s no time for him to register that he’s pulled away from your mouth before his lips are dragging across your cheek, and smearing across your throat, kisses pressed hot into the flesh while he lets go of your face with one hand, reaching between where you’re connected to pull his underwear down far enough just to free his aching length.
the next thrust forward has him swearing out, wet, sticky hand returning to your face to bring your lips back together. the glide of his heavy, sensitive, bare cock against your barely clothed cunt has him nearly bursting right then and there. then your next words make him throb even harder, lips parting into a deep groan, cockhead catching and pushing against your entrance.
“n-need you to cum, butch,” you pant into his mouth, hands gripping his ass, and smoothing up and down his back before finally coming to settle over his shoulders, desperate to meet his thrusts, but the sheer force of him drives you into the bed with each punishing roll.
“yeah, doll?” his voice is hoarse, a sound he doesn’t recognize when your lips are centimeters apart, and this time through your heavy breathing, he can hear the slick, sloppy squelching of your bodies meeting, sliding over one another, as you seek out release in each other.
“y-yes, please.” you writhe beneath him, the broken whine that slips out from between your lips finally does him in, that last thread of his sanity snapping. he’s tried to keep things grounded and stay in control, but the way you feel beneath him, so perfect, arching up into him, desperately trying to help him reach his peak—-
it’s all too much, the slick, wet slide of your bodies together, the obscene sounds, the way your skin feels against his. it makes him feel like he’s being swallowed whole by you. your legs lock around his waist tighter, and in turn, he presses more of his weight into you.
any sense of being gentle gets thrown out the window the moment he feels that heaviness in his guts, his pace turns brutal, the friction hitting a point that tips him over. a groan, heavy and ragged tears through his chest, his cock throbs and pulses against your pussy, shot after shot of cum decorating your panties and between your clothed folds.
a full on shudder rolls through him, his eyes rolling so hard they begin to ache, vision doubling as you come back into view beneath him. harsh breaths wash over your cheek, lips sliding across the skin. burying his face into the dip of your neck, his arms wrap tight around your midsection, hips taking on a brutal pace as he draws out his release, tip catching on your clit, listening to the mewls and gasps escaping your lips.
butch is experiencing a state of bliss no drug or alcohol can ever compare to. he’s touched himself countless times, and as mentioned before, had that experience with the traveler, but nothing compares to what he’s feeling now. it feels like he’s weightless, floating in the air as euphoria floods his veins. next thing he knows, his lips are parting, tongue dragging across your pulse, teeth sinking into the skin, only to feel you lock up beneath him, your own release causing your legs to shake.
“b-butch,” you whimper, panting heavily enough that it causes him slight concern. his hips slow to a gentle roll, dragging along your cunt one final time before coming to a complete stop, a reluctant noise leaving butch as he leans up to get a look at your face.
“you okay?”
he was never one that could comfort others, but he doesn’t want to see you upset. especially because of him. but what he sees when he looks at you isn’t fear, or hurt. it’s lust, and something else. something else he can’t quite put a name to, and something he’s not sure he’s ready to explore yet. because if you’re looking at him like this, then how is he looking at you?
he doesn’t get to dwell on his thoughts long when you pull him in for a kiss, hands brushing through his hair softly. then you pull back, lips parting a fraction before he’s diving back in once more, returning your mouth’s gentle embrace. butch lets a hand travel down your side, squeezing at your flesh softly, swallowing down the sweet sounds you make.
there’s no telling what this’ll do to your relationship, he can only hope for the best possible outcome. he doesn’t think he wants to head back to his spot in rivet city any time soon.