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chaithetics · 11 days

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frothing at the mouth for any norm fics

Gaps of Sunlight

Pairing: Norm Maclean (Fallout) x f reader Word count: 4.5K Gif by @klausbens Warning: Barely proofread, pining, longing, maybe a little fluff and angst? a jab at Chet's weird crush, this is set before the events of Fallout S1 so some 'foreshadowing' I guess but doesn't have any spoilers! Mitski inspired! A/N: Ask and you shall receive 🙏(translation: thank you for enabling me!!!) This is my first time writing Norm and it's the most fun I've had with writing a fic in a long time! I feel like I'm a more descriptive writer and I haven't had an idea flow like this in quite a while. I feel like this is similar to 'Porce and the Shark' in terms of writing? Idk how well this flows as a story lol?!?! I've barely written any angst and I haven't really done any yearning, so I hope this is good! So please validate, I just felt like I was never going to finish or/fix it enough so I thought I'd post it as is. Thought about the queen of angst, @inknopewetrust's work a lot when I started writing this. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated 🫶

You lay in bed as you couldn’t help but think about it all. Once again. You could go outside to the corn fields but all that could offer you was a projection from a time and place well before you were even conceived as an idea. You’d never really know what the sunlight felt like, how it would heat your chin and what it would be like to bathe in that light. You had tried to live vicariously through that with what approved, classic literature had survived the war and through the vaults. Shakespeare didn’t offer you much beyond metaphors that were just out of your grasp with relatability to your environment, you hadn’t particularly enjoyed Chaucer, an opinion you’d kept from your father. While the Brontë sisters were able to perfectly let you know what rain in a different continent would’ve felt like against your face and how it would’ve smelt and made your shoes feel to run across an English countryside, they never enlightened you about what being bathed in sunlight would feel like. There were only so many times you could read and annotate Homer’s works awaiting a revelation.

Despite how everyone else moved around Vault 33, it was impossible for you to not help but wonder more of life. What it all was, and what it all meant.

You pull yourself out of a possible mental spiral and quickly get ready for the day as it eases on just as every other day does in the Vault. There’s breakfast with a pleasant conversation with your family, and you teach English classes to the youth of Vault 33, you participate in other extracurriculars just like most of the other Vault dwellers but teaching takes up the bulk of each of your days. You don’t mind that at all though, you enjoy it, even on days where everything feels like a complete rut. The mornings when the blue of the vault suits feels like too much, the pleasantries feel more like programming than authentic connections.

It had started like every other day and classes had happened accordingly, there was now the communal reprieve of lunch. As you slowly chew you look up and see him across the dining hall, despite being from the poster-perfect vault family, he’s Vault 33’s very own black sheep, Norman MacLean. He’s sitting there silently while his dad and Lucy are happily chatting away. Each taking turns trying to lure him into conversation, which he rejects each time with a quick, blink and you’ll miss it shake of his head. The same expression he always wears these days and has for years is etched onto his face, a chronic look of apathy.

You can’t help but stare at him for a moment, watching the way he looks on almost blankly. Even from across the room, you can see every thought in those brown doe eyes as if he’s saying them aloud. How is it that he’s still so misunderstood?

You’d grown up with Norm, he’d always been nice to you, even when you were at school. But that wasn’t exceptional, that was the whole thing with vault-dwellers, being nice people, even from a very young age. It’s not exactly a melting pot of cultures in the Vault like you know the surface once was but the culture is to be nice, chirpy, and practical.

Norm was nice, he had a quiet charm, he’d be a good politician, just in a different way and style as his father, he was practical but he didn’t have a cheery disposition. He lacked enthusiasm and at times it seemed to almost fascinate him how much that little rebellion could bother people. He didn’t put himself out there and you remember how he was smart, he knew answers to the questions that were asked but he’d never put his hand up for them.

It made you wonder at times if he was scared of his own voice. You feel your eyes squinting as you look at him wondering that question, as if studying his jawline for another minute or watching him lift his fork up to his mouth will tell you.

With a deep breath, you tilt your head discreetly to look around to see if anyone noticed your infatuated staring but nobody seems to. You still put a polite, chirpy smile on your face in case anyone did. That should be enough for anyone to notice anything your eyes might’ve been betraying.

Your mind still stays on him, because as always, you might see him better than anyone else but he is still a puzzle with pieces you have yet to find the corners to.

You’re sitting near the cornfield, trying to live vicariously in a world that’s not yours, one that will always be out of touch, just trapped into ink on a page and repeated for the ears of children, to fulfil a mission. But it’s his voice that pulls you out of the inner world of classical Greek horrors.

“Sunny day today.” He says as he looks down at you as you sit on the chair and look at his standing form. He says it as if it isn’t sunny every day with that projection meant to convince you of what the surface once knew and not instead fall flat and be more reminiscent of golden Hollywood-esque crops on sets of the films that have survived. Norm’s voice is quiet, he’s just as soft-spoken as you remember him being so long ago. His tone is bored, but it doesn’t deter you, how could it when he’s standing in front of you looking into your eyes?

He looks into your eyes, taking in the colour, worried that someday he could forget the flicks closest to your eyes. They might rearrange if he doesn’t look at them for another ten seconds to appreciate them. He could forget them. But he never would.

“Just like your disposition.” You quietly tease, offering him a shy smile.

Just as if it’s somehow not always sunny, a rare occasion worth being spoken about, so is his unchanging character. But beyond adding in a couple of cups of more confidence perhaps, you don’t think there’s much else that could be worth editing.

“And for that exact reason, I’m surprised I’m getting a job transfer with the reasoning being my enthusiasm levels.” He says with a breathless chuckle.

You tilt your head as you look up at him, he’s still standing, the toe of his shoe almost toying with something invisible on the artificial emerald green grass. You’d put your thumb in your book when he’d arrived but now you put your bookmark in and gently close it. Placing it gently on your lap.

It hadn’t been that long since you’d both finished your education, having had jobs and duties in the vault was important for its efficiency and functionality. But still, this wouldn’t be Norm’s second job. You were still the teacher you’d been assigned at the start of your adult life, most people in the vault only ever had one job, sometimes they would change and so have had two in their whole life and of course, there would be a change of two or sometimes three for overseers, but three while still being so young was very rare. You had questions and internal crises about this world all the time, there was always a moment somewhere in your world that you felt slightly out of place. But still, contentment had found a way to settle in your bones much easier than it did for him.

“What were the enthusiasm levels?” You ask quietly, slowly blinking. You already know the answer.

Norm looks down at the ground, at the grass he could tug out and it would just never grow back. No matter how desperately everyone would want to pretend it would. His foot is so close to yours, mere inches away, the toe of his shoe could just brush against yours and no one would know.

“Nought.” He says with disinterest, he slightly shrugs his shoulders as his eyes stay planted on the ground.

“Something will stick eventually.” You say.

You say stick, you don’t say that there will definitely be something he loves or that it’ll all be okay, it’s not what he wants to hear and you don’t know if there’s a role in this world that you both live in that would fulfil him as much as his father is fulfilled by being Overseer. He appreciates that. But he needs to change the subject.

“Is a literature teacher always reading?” He questions as if it’s a riddle that might amuse him.

“More likely to happen than finding them counting.” You say as you tilt your head. You don’t remember the last time he approached you for conversation, or the last time that he did and there were this many words. It would’ve been back when you were younger, still classmates. You can’t track an exact memory down which surprises you.

“So, what’s that one?” He asks looking at the book in your lap for a moment before his eyes slowly gaze back to your face, making eye contact for the first time in over a minute. You can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up at this. You feel seen as his eyes rake up and take in every facial feature and unique mark on you.

Everyone makes a false and fatal assumption about Norm. They assume that because he’s not extroverted and over-the-top warm like Lucy or Hank, that he’s not charming. That’s complete crap. You know it’s false. He’s not the same as his family or a lot of the people in your home vault but without a doubt, Norman MacLean oozes charisma. He knows just when to turn it on and how to utilise it in the best way with each person. And right now, it’s working on you.

“The Three Theban plays, by Sophocles.” You whisper as your eyes bore into him, you don’t dare to blink. Too scared that he might just disappear if you do, and that when your eyes open again, this will all be confirmed as another of one of your many daydreams about him. “They’re tragedies, I’m reading Antigone, at the moment.” You feel yourself latching each word onto the next word as if you’re climbing a ladder and need to build more rungs at the same time, there’s some intrinsic need in you to draw this out for just a few more moments. His presence gives you some kind of glow. You finally blink, your eyes not able to hold it anymore, he’s somehow still standing in front of you once your lids open. You immediately wonder if you’ve said too much and try to fight the urge to sigh but the urge to not let on how embarrassed you feel is more of a priority, you need to keep that internal.

“And what has that taught you?” He asks with a small smile.

Someone else might’ve found the tone cold. If someone else had asked that exact question, it might’ve felt condescending. But you know exactly what it is.

Norm knows better, not better than you, he’s not that kind of arrogant. It’s because he’s always known that he knows better than most in these reinforced concrete and metal walls you all live in. But you live in a meritocracy. Everyone is in constant pursuit to be kind and to better and upskill as a contributing member of Vault society. Of course if someone’s openly reading it’s an academic pursuit, to be more well-read, that they can learn an important tale and moral lesson, or to use it as a quote to whip out at a convenient time in a council meeting or for intellectual criticism of another philosopher or writer’s thesis. And you both know it’s why each book that was chosen for survival by Vault-Tec was carefully curated, all in the name of intellectual pursuits and other reasons beyond either of your imagination.

“Just further proof why we have rules against familial relations.” You reply after a slow blink, you remember what his sense of humour used to be like in class, how teachers would occasionally stifle an eye roll and sigh or would take a moment to then replaster their smile back on. You look at him, and your eyes can’t help but take in the shape of his nose as if you hadn’t already committed it to memory a thousand times before now.

“Hah.” He says quietly, as if it’s amusing, which he finds to be a little as he lets out a small chuckle and his mouth quirks up and that makes you happy. It’s an expression that doesn’t grace his handsome face often. “Might need to pass that on to Chet, if that’s the case, I doubt he’s read it.”

You let out a chuckle at that, and Norm’s brow furrows for a mere second as he takes you in. His mouth is still in a small smile but not many people find his humour to actually be humorous, his father and Lucy love him but he earns more small sighs and tired smiles from them than anything close to a laugh.

“I’ll let you know when I’m done with this copy.” You reply with another slow blink.

You watch his mouth, mentally tracing his lips with your eyes as he sucks his lips for a moment and nods, his eyes dropping to the ground again. It’s only then that you realise how close the toes of your feet are to each other. He couldn’t be looking down because of that, or thinking about that though. You are cursed to yearn in silence. “Appreciate it.” He says with a small smirk as he looks up at your eyes, he raises his eyebrows slightly to replace any verbal goodbyes and he walks off.

Norm leaves you as he found you minutes before, all alone in false sunlight with a book in your hands. You still haven’t found the missing puzzle pieces.

It had been four days now. Four days since you’d had that conversation with Norm, there had been plenty of stolen glances, and a few returned smiles when your eyes met across corridors or the dining hall, but Norman MacLean was still, one of the only things occupying your mind.

You wouldn’t complain, why would you? How could you when the fact that those glances, and snippets of conversations were now a supercut in your head that provided comfort whenever you started to get into another emotional crisis about vault life and what the history was that had brought everyone to this point. But still, you couldn’t help but sometimes worry over this yearning. How unrequited it could be. How unrequited it felt.

You felt a hunger in the pit of your stomach each time that you saw his shadow, each time you two made eye contact you couldn’t help but feel as if it was a caress on your skin, even though the only time he’d touched you was to help you up when you’d fallen over outside when you were seven. He’d insisted on being the one to put the excessive amount of band-aids on your grazed hands. Hank had stood back and watched, finding it endearing, how concentrated Norm’s face was at such a young age. Maybe they should’ve thought about trialling him in medicine, but no, he probably still lacked the desired enthusiasm during the first-aid training vault-dwellers did.

You were seated with your family for a council update, everyone gathered to sit on the folded chairs, you and your family were always extremely punctual, you sat with them on one side while the other was still a row of a few empty seats.

As people slowly trickle in you see Norm come in, he looks mentally fatigued as he looks around, you turn your head to face your family so you don’t catch his eye in hopes of him not noticing your stare. How pathetic would he think you are if he saw you looking at him like a wide-eyed puppy, begging for love? You can imagine, but you don’t want to know. After a moment you hear somebody sit down next to you, the chatter of people finding seats fills your ears but you don’t hear any from whoever sits down. You feel their arm brush against yours, you know it’s nothing but you instinctively turn to see who it is and to give them a polite and welcoming smile.

It’s Norm. Of course, it’s Norm. But why is it? He’s just facing ahead so he hasn’t acknowledged you yet, although you’re sure he can see your smile and look in his peripheral vision. “Hey.” You say quietly in a warm voice as you look at his handsome side profile, he shouldn’t look that good. His face shouldn’t be so perfectly sculpted. “Hi.” He says quietly as he tilts his head giving you a small look that seems dramatically playful which makes you smile, and let out a silent chuckle. Norm’s face turns back ahead to face the front where his father now stands and the council sit. Your eyes follow his gaze and you turn back in your seat to look straight ahead as Hank MacLean starts his updates in his usual down-to-earth, selfless leader tone.

You can’t help but wonder if this is a sign, him choosing this seat, you even wonder if his arm brushing against you was intentional as he sat down and then again you wonder if you were being crazy for wondering that. As Hank’s words go on to fill the air, they don’t really fill your head, that’s too busy being at full capacity with thoughts of Norman. You rub your chin after a moment, hoping the feeling of your fingertips and nails against your chin might create a sensory distraction. You get a completely different kind of sensory distraction when his arm gently brushes against yours as he leans back in his seat, he adjusts himself so that your shoulders are touching and you can feel his arm against yours. You can’t help but silently gasp, hoping he doesn’t hear it and your breath traps itself as you hold your breath. Feeling far too scared to move. It has to be intentional, you look at him through the corner of your eye as you try not to move. He’s still looking ahead, his expression unfazed as he looks at the people in front of him but he’s still sitting in that position. He hasn’t moved his arm.

It’s intentional.

You try to breathe again as your cheeks heat up, and you bite the corner of your lip. The feeling of his arm against yours sends shivers up your spine and you can feel the warmth of that small point of contact radiating throughout the rest of your body.

The connection you feel with Norm is deep and for the first time in quite a while, this simple gesture of touching arms makes you wonder if these years of yearning maybe aren’t unrequited. You feel your shoulders start to slowly rise and fall again at this thought, this movement hasn’t disturbed Norm away. A smile grows on your face like the corn that’s picked around the year, as you smile and look ahead. The meeting continues like this, it isn’t till the end that you lose that gentle, physical touch, sweet connection that you long for as Norm gets up and leaves to carry on with his day, you smile as he stands up, he gives you as small smile and walks away. You’re now touch-starved all over again, and you think it feels more hollow after feeling a touch from him.

Maybe one day it won’t be just your arms touching but instead your hands, your hands will brush against each other and then your fingers will interlock together. You’re better at camouflaging but you’re certain that your souls are made of and connected by the same things.

It’s been what feels like an eternity since you felt Norm’s simple touch, it’s occupied every thought and been the reason behind nearly every smile since it happened. The question is though, has it been haunting Norm at all? You know he isn’t seeing anyone, secrets like that don’t exist here and it would certainly be talk with how introverted Norm is.

Hours is the amount of time you’ve spent trying to think of a reason to approach him but nothing feels right and you decide against it anytime you get close to it. You try to find any excuse to visit him and the one you can think of is beyond pathetic, and you know that.

You find another copy of a collection of plays and decide to give it to Norm, for him to decide whether he wants to read it or to fulfil a bit. It’s not a good reason, but it’s the best you’d been able to come up with. And at least with the book in your hands there would be some comfort in the pages, the smell of them and the remaining dust that haunted the corners that had been facing the wall. It can ground you and be something to hold onto anxiously while you make a fool of yourself. Norm conveniently answers after you’ve knocked at the MacLean family unit. He looks at your face and raises his eyebrows slightly, his face switches from an apathetic expression to one a bit warmer. “Hey.” You say, smiling at him but you think it must come off as panicked and scared as you look at him with wide eyes and feel an anxious parasite growing and feeding off of you in your brain.

“Hi.” He says as he steps back letting you come into the unit. You walk in, and it’s nice and tidy but it’s the same as essentially your family unit and every other unit in Vault 33. You blink as you look around for a couple of seconds and your eyes land back on him, he’s been watching you the whole time.

“After Lucy?” He asks and you feel your cheeks heat up, you liked Lucy, she was an extremely lovely person and you did consider her a close friend. “No.” You shake your head, the admission makes you feel like coming here was an even worse idea than what you thought it was just a few minutes ago. “I brought a copy of tragedies, in case you needed any dark reading, or wanted to… pass them on…” You continue and bite your lip for a second.

Norm lets out a little chuckle that shakes his shoulders for a second but it’s borderline silent, almost not real. He looks into your eyes and takes a step closer, you’re not sure if he’s going to do the hospitality script you learn from a young age of offering a glass of water or cup of old Joe.

Instead, he quickly steps closer and Norm places his hands on the back of your neck, you sharply exhale and you know that the hair on the back of your neck is standing up. The feeling of goosebumps on every inch of your skin overwhelms your senses as his lips finally crash down.

His lips are slightly chapped and you can feel that against yours, the fine lines and cracks as they press against your mouth. There’s nothing you can do but melt into his touch as you’re overcome with warmth. But there isn’t anything else you’d want to do anyway.

There’s nothing else you can imagine feeling that feels this good. You kiss him back instinctively and put your hand into his hair as he deepens the kiss, his hair is soft and you run your fingers through it as you feel his tongue, and it’s a clash of your mouths against the other.

You immediately wonder if the physical warmth of where your bodies come into contact, his breath against your face, his warm lips, and the warmth that envelops you internally is what sunlight feels like. This feeling basks you in what you imagine would be similar to being basked in the light of sunrays would.

You don’t know how long this lasts, it feels like a sweet lifetime but still deliciously short as you kiss and feel his hair while his hand is gentle on the back of your neck. Like all things, it eventually ends. You look at each other with widened eyes and pant as your lips are no longer in contact. Your cheeks heat up and you almost want to giggle. You see his face is flushed and his eyes shine, you think it’s adoration but you could be projecting.

“My dad will be back soon.” He whispers knowingly as his eyes look glassy. “Oh.” You look around as if that’ll help you feel more composed. You weren’t expecting this to end so abruptly, this felt like something straight out of a dream and now it was a cold end, something want to shapeshift into a nightmare. You know you should leave, you’re feeling far too flustered to try and have a conversation with Hank and you know this isn’t a conversation Norman wants to try navigating around with his father. “We um… Well, we need to talk…” You breathe out.

He smiles and whispers your name, the tone is reverent as he says each syllable. “Not now.” His eyes look a little less glassy but it’s still a visible sheen and you can see it, the sun has withdrawn a little.

“Not now?” You repeat, it comes out as a shaky question though as you feel every muscle in your body tense.

This is rejection, this is what puts all those protagonists you’ve read of into a depression that only the seaside can cure if anything can cure it. Being in this vault, you don’t think you can ask for cornfield projections to change to windy cliffs with waves crashing and the artificial grass to be replaced with manmade sand. You’d always wondered about the sunlight but now you’d have to wonder what sand from a beach felt like as well.

“No.” He whispers. “That isn’t fair. Tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.” He blinks and his cheeks are flushed as he looks at you.

“When?” “Maybe when you finish the book, not a copy, your book.”

“Not a copy?” Your face scrunches up, as your brain runs screaming.

“No.” He answers. “Yours probably has thoughtful annotations or something right?” He asks.

“Or something.” You whisper back.

“I’ll read that.” He says.

You nod, as you pick up the spare copy and walk out from the MacLean unit, you don’t feel like you’re controlling your body right now, it must be some form of muscle memory. Maybe you need to read and reread every book in the vault to further investigate if what you just felt was sunlight. Or, you wonder, are you still under gaps of sunlight, missing Norm more than anything?

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titanbabyeams · 18 days

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okay but how insane would I be if I admitted I was curious about the ship dynamic between The Ghoul & Norm?

The only issue I foresee is that, in my head, Norm is the younger brother and cannot possibly be over 22 years old… but boy, does that little worm in my brain bring up the ship every time I write.

Sometimes I just think it’d be so interesting? Norm has gained some backbone by the end of the series and I really think he wouldn’t be afraid to just… say what he thinks to The Ghoul’s face. He’d also have none of that ‘Vault Dweller Goodness’ that The Ghoul has associated with Lucy. There’d be a strange combination of respect and animosity… plus, I think he’d appreciated Norm’s dry humor.

Imagine: Lucy & The Ghoul are traveling together and Norm joins them at some point. Norm is keeping records of all the Wasteland creatures he comes across because he’s genuinely interested in how the surface has affected things and people…

…which leads him to asking rather probing questions to The Ghoul. Does he have genitalia? How long did the process take to become a ghoul? Are they experiencing radiation exposure just by traveling with him or do they have to be in closer proximity? Is he semen irradiated?

Purely scientific, of course, but The Ghoul would turn it right back on him and ask if he wants to experiment to learn these things.

Norm is disturbed, initially, cue crisis…

Who knows who knows.

#ao3 #fanfic #kinda #musings #norm maclean #norman maclean #the ghoul #cooper howard #norm x the ghoul #it’s still kind of vaultghoul but not really #ghorm #hahaha #is there even a ship name #is anyone interested in this dynamic? is it just me and my multi-shipping brain?#fallout #it could be a platonic ship too #like I don’t think everything needs to be done to end romantically or sexually #but the dynamic itself is something that’s so fascinating to me and something I just love exploring in my side-fic that I work on sometimes #it’s a ghoulcy fic entirely from the POV of Norm #so I have some fun exploring how he views things and interprets things #especially his interactions with The Ghoul are something I’m trying to understand because BOY is there some things to explore #idk i’m tired #can you tell what’s been on my mind for the last several weeks?

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falloutwithmegirlypop · 1 month

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Request rules

Hi, FWMGP here. I’ve loved the fallout series since its debut, and I think it’s time I put my skills to work. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to write everyone requests, but I’ll sure try. No Smut (for now) but slight spice is all good. Ageless blogs please leave, 17+ only.

Characters

✨My faves✨

Show

Chet 💛💙

Lucy 🥺🥺💙💛

Maximus ⚔️🛡️

Thaddeus 🤴

Norm 👾📀

Game

Travis miles (Love him) 🥺❤️❤️

Nick Valentine 🤖🕵️❤️

Preston Garvey 🤠

Piper 📝

Benny Gecko 🔪🔪🔫

🖐️other characters🖐️

Cooper Howard

The ghoul

The raiders

The brotherhood of steel

Moldaver

Siggi witzig

Steph

Barb

Handy

Potentially other characters( put in request)

Readers

Only x readers, but poly including reader is ok.

Any kind of reader, please put preference in ask, specifics are ok. Don’t be afraid to ask. I write MxM FxF MxF etc, but I’m best at Female and male as-well as female and female.

Rules

No gross stuff

No incest

No generally upsetting kinks

No under age

Absolutely no bestiality

Dub con in certain places is ok, but no non-con.

Current requests

In progress:

Fallout Max x reader

Chet x reader getting married

Chet fluff headcannons

Ghoul!Thaddeus x reader

Done:

Norm x unenthusiastic reader

Chet x fem reader

Please ignore any grammar mistakes, I have shaky hands.

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gabriellerudessa · 1 month

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Compass (Norm Maclean x OC) - I

"Look at him, all smart at turning off the light." A voice whispered close to his ear, thick and rough. "Listen." The voice got even lower, and he did, even if unconsciously, half of him certain that at any point there would be a knife, either against his throat or through his back.

PLAYLIST ON YOUTUBE

(I recommend hearing "Compass" by Sail North, it's my main writing song for this one, but there is also "Brave New World" by Starset and "Nails" by Call me Karizma, don't ask me about the last one, I don't know too. Good reading!)

Word Count: 4.323

Warnings: ... Wasteland Typical Violence

He stumbled outside, forcing his legs as he heard the grinding sound of the Vault door closing echoing behind him. His feet slid down the sand and he dry-swallowed, steps fast amidst the ruins - he had been lucky, managing to escape that weird robot Bud and to slink around Vault 33 and reach the outside door.

He had thought of trying to reach out Chet, tell the others, tell what he had discovered... But the before of Vault 32 was still fresh in his mind. They had discovered, and it had led to madness. And people were still so tense... Either they wouldn't believe him, or they would, and then... They weren't made for this type of thing, too innocent and naïve as the talks about how to deal with the invaders had shown, and with no will of trying to learn more. Properly raised to be agreeable. It would only make things worse.

Norm didn't want that to happen with the ones he knew, no matter how... Complicated things usually were, how out of place he felt. And after all of Betty's veiled threats, after the deaths of the invaders, he was pretty sure he would either be killed or framed for those deaths. It didn't matter if he never told a soul, he knew too much, didn't complied when they wanted him to.

No. Leaving and try to find Lucy, tell her everything, that their father was not who they thought, was his best bet. Still didn't know what to do after, but still. Better than stay, silent and frustrated and unable to do anything.

Even if survival seemed equally unlikely above.

He stopped by a shadow, blinking at the darkening sky; he had been so desperate to leave before anyone really noticed him that he hadn't noticed how late in the day it was. Norm grimaced as he took a sip of water from his canteen. Night fast approaching, supplies far from ideal because of his fast escape, no weapons, no experience outside the Vault...

He better survive enough to find Lucy. She better be alive, or he would kill her himself again. Somehow.

---------

An old night vision scope showed the fire glimmering in light green, the electrified bodies of radroaches starting to pile around it. A reasonable haul for one night of hunting; after dry, it would sell fast in Filly.

If the Brotherhood didn't give her shit as she tried to enter the city. Damn, had they made everything more complicated. Why had they even come?

She hoped at least one molerat would stumble into it before the traps' batteries ran out; their leather was useful, and once treated reached good prices, especially with shoemakers - not as good as brahmin leather, but useful enough for the craft and one of her family's main income.

Moving the scope around the terrain, she kept her old, trusty hunting rifle ready and close by her hand. It was a shame the scope was so bulky; she had tried again and again to attach it to the rifle, but either it didn't stuck, or it messed up the weapons weight. Not even Mika had been able to make it work. In the end the scope just remained dangling from a leather cord around her neck when not in use.

She contracted her legs, keeping the muscles from falling asleep from her immobility in her hiding spot. She would be damned if pinpricks and needles stopped her from moving when needed.

Movement caught her attention at the edges of the scope and she moved it, centralizing the movement.

Through the shades of green, she recognized the human proportions. Too far away to identify too many details, half fallen walls and columns obstructing the view half the time but... Yeah, a person trying to skulk around the ruins. In the Wasteland. During the night. And... Yep, a lit flashlight. They were walking carefully from what she saw, sure, but... Did they have a death wish?

She watched some more, cursing the low resolution of the scope; more steps, going in a more open area, steps insecure... And the direction made her sure that soon the person would see the fire.

And in the night, would walk towards it. Maybe steal her haul, maybe take a shock and mess up her traps, maybes maybes maybes... Too many maybes for her.

"Fuck." she mumbled, lowering the scope with a scowl towards where she had last seen the person, just a smidge of a silhouette in the dark ruins, already amidst the walls again.

Still cursing under her breath, she got up, practiced movements hanging the backpack over her back and rifle over a shoulder in less than ten seconds, sliding down the old fireman's pole.

---------

Norm kept walking across the ruins long after the sun had set, trying to keep behind the half-standing walls and use his height to stay out of sight. The sounds of the wind across the sand and ruins around him low, rumbling, all-encompassing. It was unnerving after how silent the Vault was most of the time, just steps against metal and voices.

It was hard to process that wind could make so much noise when his only examples were old movies.

A space in the ruins opened ahead, and a small focus of light flashed across the night, reaching some walls. Frowning, he slowed his steps, carefully moving around the rocks and broken concrete, and his eyes fell on a burning fire, right in the open, on the top of a small hill of sand, almost detached from the rest of the ruins, and he stopped.

Norm could notice something glimmering around it, at some distance in the ground... But besides, it was just that. The fire, burning. No people, no nothing.

He turned off his Pip-boy's flashlight.

Something slid across his face and covered his mouth - a hand? -, a presence behind him, blocking the wind and the desert's cold. Damn it. Damn it.

First the wind whistling, the sand slowly being blown off, the crackling of the fire... And then in the wind a small, skittering sound, and as he watched the fire, something approached... And an arc of electricity, a high pitched but brief noise, something jumping and falling, too big, darkness and distance making it difficult to actually see.

"Radroach. Nasty things in group, kinda bitter, but food is food. Easy to catch if you know how." Norm filled away the whisper, waiting during a beat of silence. Still no knife, no nothing. "All righty, it seems we are clear for now. There is a house still standing with a door close by, let's go."

The hand fell away from him, and Norm waited for a heartbeat, but there was only the soft sound of a step, no other attempt at touching him, no knife at his back.

"Why should I go with you?" He whispered back, turning halfway, the light of the distant fire just enough to highlight edges.

It was enough for him to notice that the person was probably taller and bigger than Chet. Not by much, but still a terrifying prospect, because they had done absolutely no sound when approaching.

A chuckle, and something in it was distinctly feminine.

"You do you, Vaultie, but I'm going. Wasteland nights in the outside ain't pretty or fun. Just keep away from my trap, hm?"

The woman turned and started walking.

Norm watched, looked over his shoulder at the fire still burning, the bait for something he didn't even knew in a place he still needed to learn all about, which rules applied and which didn’t...

She was at the fourth step when he started following, another chuckle, a hand waving him ahead.

"Keep the flashlight off and walk besides me." Norm couldn't avoid a huff but did as told.

A rock made him stumble and a hand at his shoulder kept him from falling. He squinted at the night, tempted to light the flashlight... But the skittering sound replayed in his head, the fire a bait, and he kept it off.

---------

His eyes had slowly adapted enough to not stumble all the time, so it was easy to notice the silhouette of the woman stopping by an old and cracked wooden door. Norm doubted it would actually protect them from something, but it was better than all the half-walls.

She put a hand at the doorknob, another raising something to her eye, and Norm rolled his eyes. Of course she had something to see in the dark.

The door slowly inched open, hinges grinding, and he winced. She stuck her head inside for a moment, came out, took a rock from the ground and threw inside, a muffled bang reaching him.

They waited and listened, but there was no other sound for long moments, and she signaled for him to enter. The woman followed a moment later, carefully closing the door. The darkness deepened, only small cracks in walls and roof allowing slivers of moonlight inside, and the lack of wind blowing against him made him notice how cold it was outside.

"You can turn on the flashlight. I'll verify the rest of the house."

Her steps were faster than his hands, the light catching only the ends of leather boots - old, stained, but well cared and well made.

He looked around; sandy, but not like outside, barred windows keeping the night and wind out there. Some old chairs, three still up but not safe-looking. A table broken in the middle, missing a leg. A shelf, empty and stained but standing.

"No animals, the other door and windows still securely barred." The woman got closer, and Norm turned, the flashlight giving a face to the voice.

Yep. Taller and broader than Chet at shoulders and hips and... Everything, really. She looked able to break his neck with nary a thought. But she hadn't, he reassured himself.

Yet.

Jeans, shirt and short leather cape over shoulders, a type of bag-belt around hips and thighs, full of pockets, a hunting rifle slung on one shoulder. Clothes weathered with old stains, flakes of sand drifting off, and neatly mended innumerous times.

Above it all, a square jaw, rounded chin, high cheekbones, a large mostly-straight nose - it was pretty clear the bridge had been broken and not put in place correctly before the bone glued back. Weathered brown skin, hair a brownish-auburnish dirty color with strands against her face, metal rings glinting in her eyebrow and ears. He couldn't estimate her age safely.

And the scars. Those made him blink for a second. A large burn stripe at one cheek, scraggly lines across her nose, what suspiciously looked as claw marks at the other cheek, a cut from the bottom lip to the chin... In the harsh light of his flashlight, the scars looked deep, furrows marring the skin like rivers in the desert.

So unlike the invaders, with no facial scars to outright make someone suspicious, and at the same time something in the eyes and posture was exactly like them.

"Seeing something pretty, Vaultie?"

Her voice cut his observation, and Norm focused in time to catch the raised eyebrow and cheeky grin, a gap showing where she had lost a tooth.

"Just... " he shook his head, uncertain of what to say as she landed her backpack in the ground, things inside clinking. "... Thinking." he ended with a shrug as she released an old oil lantern from the backpack, positioning it at the shelf and lighting it.

He turned off his flashlight, the light from the lantern illuminating the room better in a warm, diffuse light that softened her face in a way that made him think that she shouldn't be much older than him, actually.

"Fair enough." She plopped down by her backpack, legs crossed, rifle besides her. "There are still some hours before the sun graces us, so make yourself comfortable, Vaultie."

He carefully sat down opposite her, eyes occasionally glinting towards the rifle.

That, plus what he now could see was an old scope dangling from her neck, and the fact that he had barely heard her steps, before and after, solidified in his mind that she could've killed him anytime, but hadn't. Why?

A zipping sound, and the woman took a canteen and a cloth packet from the backpack. A piece of what appeared to be jerky was taken from the packet, and the sound of chewing filled the room.

"Got food and water with you, Vaultie?"

"It's Norm. And yes, I do."

Not enough.

He didn't say that while he took his own canteen and one Fancy Lads Snack Cakes from his sidebag.

"Good." She nodded, taking a sip of the water. "And it's Marigold here, if you're wondering."

They ate mostly in silence, the wind still noising around outside; Norm watched and noticed how her eyes - mismatched, one brown and one black - didn't stay in a single place for long, head leaned this way and that at each different spike in sound outside, wide, thick lips twisting occasionally before relaxing. He heard those too, but didn't have enough context to say what caused them. Or where.

And he hated that, the unknown.

"Sooo, Norm... Is it ok of me to ask why you left your Vault?"

He looked up from closing his side-bag, and Marigold was mostly watching him, knees up and arms crossed over them. Why hadn't she killed him?

"To find my sister. She... Left some time ago."

Just his sister. No father, no kidnapping, no attack, nothing beyond Lucy, because after his discovery, he wasn’t certain if it was safe to go around saying all about that.

She frowned at him, a pensive hand at her chin.

"... I heard of a Vaultie girl in Filly recently, from a merchant..." Norm perked up at the snippet of information.

"Where's that?"

"Not too far, but I don't recommend. The Brotherhood occupied it recently, and they can get really frisky with pre-war tech." Marigold nodded towards his Pip-Boy, and Norm's hand covered it, almost absentmindedly.

"Brotherhood?" He repeated, and she grimaced, scratching at her head.

"Fuck. All righty, time for a crash-course."

---------

The lantern's light dimmed as the time passed, the woman pretended to nap - her fingers were just too tight against the rifle, no way she was actually sleeping -, and Norm reflected on what Marigold had shared about the surface. Not extensive, but enlightening.

Filly, a small city, where most travelling merchants passed through. Even if Lucy hadn't been the "Vaultie girl" Marigold had heard about, it was his best bet of where to find information.

However, the so called Brotherhood of Steel... Marigold had been clear in saying that meeting one on a day-to-day life was usually fine, as long as you didn't get in the way of whatever they were doing, their "mission", which usually involved pre-war tech. Filly was the first place she knew they had occupied, and while she hadn’t visited yet, she had heard enough of wandering trading caravans to know that, a lot of the times, when they occupied a place and insisted they had arrived to "bring order", things could get nasty, especially if there was pre-tech around or, as she had put very sarcastically "normal Ghouls and other mutants. God forbid people have consequences from radiation".

He hadn't asked details about Ghouls and mutants yet; he didn't want to go on a tangent.

She had never heard of them trying to occupy a functioning Vault, but she still said he should thread carefully when dealing with them, if only because his Pip-boy was still functional.

Norm hadn’t talked about it, but he was pretty sure that the cryogenic technology in Vault 31 probably would attract unwanted attention if they heard about it so yeah, that advice he was taking to heart. It was what had probably attracted that Moldaver woman, after all.

Maybe she was with them? Them why had she caused a bunch of deaths, kidnapped his father, and then just… Left? He was still missing something.

There had also been mention of more factions by name, but she hadn't gone in details beyond "stay away from Bounty Hunters, you never know whose price is up". New thing to learn: how the hell do you identify a Bounty Hunter?

She ended talking about some of the more common and obvious dangers of the Wastelands - raiders, slavers, cannibals, feral ghouls, and a dozen of mutated animals. Not as common as she made them sound, "no sir, I just survive from hunting through dangerous places and as long as one tries to keep to a settlement they should be safe from these".

"Until some maniac tech-hoarding zealot order decided to occupy such settlement, that is" had escaped him and she had laughed loudly at that.

The "crash-course", as she had put, had fizzled out and she claimed she was going to sleep, still sitting, and Norm remained wide awake, thinking, one single feeling taking hold of him, resuming everything she had said: it was all about survival, and too many people didn’t care if it meant trampling over others.

The “Wasteland”, as she had called, was even worse than he had thought.

And the people in Vault were talking about teaching and rehabilitating the invaders. They didn’t have the barest notion. And he was starting to understand that neither did him.

After how she had immediately noticed he was a Vault Dweller, and what she said about everyone and everything else, Norm reached the conclusion he would need to not look out-of-place, at least long enough to snoop around the mentioned city, Filly, and discover if it had been Lucy there and where she might have gone.

And he hadn't even started to think about supplies and the local currency she had briefly explained - "caps".

Norm sighed and pinched his nose. He could barely look in-place in the Vault where he had spent his whole life, on the so-called Wasteland? He doubted he had a chance.

"You should try and sleep a little." Marigold's voice cut the silence, the brown eye open and watching him.

"And you have been doing a lot of it, I see."

---------

Marigold chuckled, straightening herself.

"Guilty as charged."

She didn't tell it was because he thought loudly - not literally, he had been quiet as the grave until that sigh. Only, she had been hunting in the Wastes as far as she could remember, and she had learned that silence was louder just before something dangerous appeared to take you out. Not even her house was ever silent, with the generators and fans in the tanning room and the turrets and so many people inside at any given moment, never everyone sleeping at the same time because someone had to keep watch. Despite the wind and all the living sounds of the desert outside, the silence inside had made sleep impossible.

Silence fell again, and Marigold knew sleep would keep avoiding her. Abandoning the pretense, she watched Norm watch the room, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

Half of her still doubted she had truly stumbled into an actual Vaultie. And from Vault 33, whose door she occasionally passed by during her hunting routes. Pristine, no signs of ever being forced open... She had always wondered if there were still people alive inside.

Now she had her answer. She just hadn't expected someone so... Small.

Granted, most people looked small next to her, but still. At first, in the dark, she almost had thought he was a kid; the pinpricks of facial hair against her hand and the voice had said that nope, adult man there.

And one of the neatest she had ever seen: the dark hair still combed, nails clean and trimmed...

"It's the suit."

"'m sorry?"

"My suit. The Vault suit. It attracts attention." Norm rubbed the leather wrists of the suit between two fingers.

Marigold couldn't avoid a small smile. Fast learner. He should be fine in the Wasteland as soon as he found his way of doing things.

"Not in itself. Enough Vaults went to shit and were scavenged that a bunch of suits roam around, but some people may know that 33 is not one of them."

"People like you." He frowned more at her, letting go of the sleeve, and Marigold shrugged.

"The door is in my hunting routes and there is no sign of ever being breached."

Norm nodded, still pensive.

Marigold tapped a finger against her thigh, lips pressed in a line; from where they were, her home was in the middle of the route to Filly, and she did had some things, scavenged and hunted, she needed to drop off with her parents and younger nephews and nieces before travelling to Filly.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she watched him some more.

Searching his sister. She thought there was more, but she wasn't about to point fingers and demand answers, people had a right to their secrets.

With half a dozen siblings, by blood and adopted, wandering the region like her or living farther away, hunting and scavenging and trading, she understood the uncertainty. The fear that something had happened. The only difference was that she knew exactly where her siblings were and how to find them if they weren't.

Fuck. Just last month her parents, all three of them, had said she was as sappy as all the rest of the family. She had really been thinking the “sappy gene” had jumped her.

Letting her head fall against the wall, she looked at the ceiling instead of Norm. It allowed her to notice that the cracks were starting to be illuminated from outside. She better do her offer, they didn't had much time to get moving.

"I could take you to my family. They'll have something you can use to cover at least your back. And, fuck, enough merchants pass by that someone might have heard something about another Vaultie, it would be safer than getting close to the Brotherhood."

Marigold looked at him only when she finished.

Norm was frowning so much that she bet he would get a headache.

"... How can I be sure you're not just attracting me to a better place to slash my neck or that your family is a bunch of cannibals or whatever?"

She could see he was serious, but there was just enough of a drawl in his words that it sounded slightly sarcastic. It was literally the only reason she didn’t take offense on the “cannibals”: human meat was sometimes used as bait by them, but never as food.

So Marigold allowed herself to grin back, raising both eyebrows.

"Naw, it would be a crime to slash open someone so cute." Her eyes slinked across Norm for a moment, don't bothering to try and decipher his facial expression, and yep. No fucking weapons. That suit didn’t allow much space for such. God damn it.

Sighing, she pulled a sheathed knife from inside her boot and extended towards him; she had enough knifes that giving one away wouldn't be that big of a problem.

Sappy indeed, giving away a weapon to someone she had just met in exchange for absolutely nothing. Thank God no one from her family was close, she wouldn't survive their teasing that she was finally a Whole Bear.

She also hoped they wouldn’t discover this, or the teasing would happen anyway.

"Here. Even if you decide to part ways. Knives are the most useful thing out here."

Norm took the knife gingerly through the handle, frown smoothing a little.

"... Thanks."

Marigold looked up again, natural sunlight starting to enter in full.

"Day is breaking. The Wastes will be a little safer now." She got up, turning off the oil lantern. Hopefully nothing would've had messed up her trap in the last hours.

---------

Norm would've liked to say that he had actually grappled with the option Marigold had presented for a long time, uncertain about his safety and her intentions.

It had actually just taken the time for him to unsheathe the knife and confirm that, despite the old blood-stains, rust-red against the brown leather of both handle and sheath, the blade was well-kept, sharp, bigger than the kitchen knives he used in the Vault. Useful. She could've killed him, but hadn't, and when confronted with "what ifs" regarding his worry about himself, gifted him a weapon, no strings attached.

Maybe it would bit him in the butt later, but for now... Well, she hadn't killed him yet.

Marigold had already left, the door not totally closed. Norm went after her, blinking and squinting in the bright light.

"Who would imagine that actual sun is such a pain..." He used the arm not holding the sheathed knife to try and protect his eyes.

He heard a laugh and turned his head, arm still raised.

Marigold was just a few steps ahead, half turned, smile in her lips, the sun bringing forth golden undertones to her skin and hair.

"I gather you didn't arrive during the day..."

Norm shook his head, lowering his arm when his eyes got used to the light, and closed the door of the shambling house. Marigold leaned her head to the side, still watching him.

"Are you coming?"

"You actually know how things over here work, so yes." He approached, storing the knife in his sidebag.

Marigold's smile got bigger and he slipped into walking besides her.

#norm maclean #norm maclean x oc #fallout #fallout series #Norm Lovers I have food #I'm in the middle of writing the third chapter so that's why I'm posting the first one finally lol #Hope you all like it :D #I think I'll do a descent masterlist here after this #there's some small oneshots of Enderal and Wayhaven Chronicles totally lost in here lol

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mochminnie · 1 month

Text

Okie Dokie (Norm MacLean)

Pairing: Norm MacLean x Cassandra "Cassie" Lang (Original Character/Reader)

Trope: Rivals to Lovers

Ideas for writing for Norm

Character: Cassandra ‘Cassie’

Affirmation: Vault 33

Occupation/Hobbies: Nurse and teaches Sex Ed Class

Volunteer: Kitchen Duty, Cleaning Duty, Food Delivery,

Computers and Information Maintenance

Book Club w/ Lucy and Sometimes hosts

Sewing/Crocheting/Embroidery Club, Young Pipefitter's Association with Lucy and Steph, Gymnastics club, Dance Club, Intermediate Phys. Ed., and Riflery, Enjoys watching and reading with Lucy, Secretly plays Pip boy games

Friends: Lucy, Steph, Chet, Norm (Rivals, Love Interest? Frenemies)

Personality: Good Hearted Caring and Kind, Creative, Sassy, Fun and as cheerful as Steph and Lucy, Stubborn, Competitive, Teasing, Willing to fight what is right and is a head strong fighter, Had a feeling Vault 32 is suspicious and somethings not right and not adding up, Investigator, Speaks her mind, Wanted to go into the surface with Lucy and curious what’s it like up there. But isn’t as naive as Lucy. Doesn’t believe in the death penalty and that the Raiders should go back to the surface and they could possibly plot killing them again. She's patient but shows the most anger and frustration towards Norman.

Physical Appearance: Simple Makeup Simple curled Lashes, Blush, Lip Gloss, Brown Eyes, Long Black Hair, Curtain Bangs and strands Voluminous Curls and likes to change the hair style, Curvous/chubby figure, Height short around the same height as Norm. Wearing the Blue and Yellow Vault Jumpsuit.

Norm and Cassie being the smartest in class. Which causes them to have a rivalry and Norm getting angry and frustrated since Cassie is good at almost everything. But it is mostly one sided in Norm’s side which comes to Cassie thinking. Norm doesn’t like her due to his coldness and endless amounts of teasing and anger towards Cassie. They bicker.

Norm lacks enthusiasm and what do the vault 33 council members Reg McPhee, Woody Thomas, Betty Pearson, and Hank MacLean do? They always pair them together as punishment as a way for Norm and Cassie to get along.

Hank and Lucy tease Norm how he could have a possible crush on Cassie. Chet always being clueless and Stephanie knew there was some sort of sexual tension between them.

Idea 1: Steph and Cassie gushing over Montey and making comments Cassie, "Wow he is a looker isn't he wow. He's so Handsome!" Steph, "Lucky." And Norm made a face like Bert. Norm was Confused more Jealous. And he proceeds to tease that he isn't much of a good guy and could have red flags. Norm, "Like I said he could have a tumor!"

Idea 2: Cassie Showing off to Steph and Lucy the corset, skirt, dresses she made were vault colors Blue and Yellow. And Norm said wearing it everyday would be against the rules.

He gets turned on by the thought of Cassie wearing the corset and skirt that he gets an erection.

Idea 3: Cassie and Norm being the smart ones, the investigators figuring everything about the history behind the vault. To make sure they both don’t get caught. Cassie kisses Norm as a distraction.

Idea 4: Cassie was this close to join Lucy up on the surface to help save their dad. But Norm stopped her. “Norm what the hell was that for? I was this close. this close to go with Lucy. What, you don’t want me to help save your dad? Is this your way to come back at me?”

“You care about me? Bullshit! When did you ever care about me? You care about me more than your sister?”

Idea 5: They are bickering than they kiss from sexual frustration. And do the deed together.

Author’s Note: this will be posted on Wattpad & A03 @mochminnie

What do you guys think about Cassie and Norm? Do you like the title ahaha I love Lucy’s Catchphrase “Okey Dokey😄”

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sombrashe · 2 months

Note

hii!

can you pretty please write something for Norm MacLean x reader?

ty, and i love your blog!

content fluff, just so much fluff and a little angst if you squint, childhood friends to lovers, reader is a breeder and its their wedding day, gn!reader, chubby!reader

note(s) hiiiiii :3 im so happy you like my blog!! i hope you enjoy this little but of fluff | i didnt know how to end it so it might seem a little abrupt

"Norm?"

Your voice bounces off the concrete walls and back into your ears. Your heels click with every step, your shoes are nice and shiny for the occasion. He wasn't home, at Chet's, or in the fusion room. A long shared hiding spot. You frown as you turn down yet another hallway. A sea of copy-pasted doors muddle together in your eyes as you huff. Maintaining your peppy smile you grip the bouquet tighter. When you noticed Lucy, but no Norm to accompany her you had to pause everything. A much disagreed decision which led to Overseer MacLain chastising you for your decision. It wasn't a good idea to make Vault 31 wait but you couldn't care less.

"Norman."

Your voice grows in pitch as you backtrack out of the hallway and into an identical one. One furthest from your wedding and who do you find sitting with his back to you? Cleaning the connection line of the vault floor.

"Oh! Norm, there you are."

He doesn't turn back and simply gives you a quick hand raise and a simple, "Busy. Be done soon."

You give a soft giggle and crouch down behind him.

"Norman MacLean. It's rude to ignore the person being married. Especially on their wedding day."

He finally turns at that. Almost as if he just realized who was talking to him. Your smile is unrelenting a stark contrast to the stony expression he gives you in return.

"Well, are you coming?"

You stand and extend your hand only to frown when he simply glances at your palm.

"What's wrong?"

You start to worry as he takes his time replying. You never felt this before, the feeling of your stomach becoming a giant knot. Like all your intestines became worms and got themselves tangled in each other. You did not like this feeling.

"You're making my stomach hurt, Norm. What's going on? You said you would be there when I met my partner."

"I got assigned cleaning duty."

You scoff and roll your eyes, a smile gracing your lips again as if you solved one of the riddles in the vault newspaper.

"It's my wedding day. I'm sure Hank would understand. You're my best friend after all, he would want you to be there with me."

Hands on your hips you can't help but notice as your cheeks start to sting with all this frowning and smiling.

"Best friend. Yeah, okay."

He repeated you again.

"Norman, what's going on? Are you sick?"

Bending over at the waist you place the cool back of your hand to his warm forehead and chew on your bottom lip. He feels fine. So why is he acting like this?

"I'm fine. It's nothing."

He swats your hand away. Using his hands he pushes himself to stand.

"Let's just go."

"No. Not until you tell me what's going on. Why you're acting like this. You've never repeated me twice. You only do that when you're upset. Three times and I would have to call security."

You try to give him a smile and laugh, but he just pushes past you. Hurrying you catch up to him as he goes to turn the corner out of the hallway. Reaching out you're able to grab ahold of his suit before he makes it.

"I don't want you to get married."

His words are rushed and he refuses to look at you. You give a small laugh hoping he was joking. You didn't go through all this... all this moving on just for him to confuse you.

"Norm, you said you were excited when I told you I was chosen."

"I lied."

I lied echoes throughout the corridor. Your grip tightens on his suit as you soak in his words.

"You told me-."

"I lied. About everything. It wasn't just practicing for me. None of it was practice. You need this, I know. Now you know so you can move on. What are you hoping they look like?"

He gives you a false smile and it looks out of place especially with you mimicking his stony expression from before. Dropping your hand you furrow your eyebrows and slam the palm of your hand into his chest.

"You... jerk! All this time I thought you wanted to be just friends. Thought you regretted everything. Fudge, Norm. Why didn't you tell me? I would have never gone to the council and convinced them to let me get married."

He gives you a genuine smile and you want to hit him again. Maybe yell at him some more until he's cupping your cheeks. His eyes are intense as they stare into yours.

"I know how important fulfilling your job is, I would never ruin that for you. I thought it would be easier if I didn't show up."

"That's stupid. You're more important to me than any job. I would be just as fulfilled and happy scrubbing floors."

His eyes search yours. His fingertips press into the soft flesh of your cheeks. You can tell he wants to lean in closer. Do as you always did ever since you were children. You don't give him the chance to back away. Not again. Leaning forward you rest your forehead against his, nose smushes against each other making it difficult to breathe. As if you could breathe clearly given the circumstances.

He takes the initiative this time and closes the minuscule gap between your lips. Years as the Overseers son gave him access to anything he ever wanted and you can tell he uses it to take care of himself.

"Strawberry?"

"They figured out how to make this stick that makes your lips soft and they gave me one to try."

You giggle and kiss his soft sweet lips again and again. Breaking away to smack your lips covered in the foreign flavor. After a good thirty minutes, you hear your name being called from a dot down the hallway.

"Lucy." You whisper as your heart starts to rise and you fear you might throw it up.

Taking your hand he squeezes it tightly before letting it fall beside the fabric of your wedding gear.

"I don't want to get married anymore, Norm. What do I do?"

"We explain to Lucy and see what she has to say. She's the older sister for a reason."

#fallout #fallout prime #fallout tv series #norm maclean #norm fallout #norm x reader #norm maclean x reader #sombrashe writes

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snitchcrimsonwrites · 2 months

Text

Maybe pt. 2

Pairing: Norm MacLean X Female Reader or OC

Former friends to a relationship?

Life is pretty easy in Vault 33 until you're trying to rekindle a former friendship and raiders attack. Now, our main characters are trying to navigate newfound feelings all while undercovering the mysteries of Vault 33. Stay tuned. Follows the main storyline of season 1; some events may be reordered for plot.

Some of the conversation feels a little clunky, but we want these two to make up and move on, right?

Part 1 Here Part 7 Here Part 12 Here

Part 3 Here Part 8 Here

Part 4 Here Part 9 Here

Part 5 Here Part 10 Here

Part 6 Here Part 11 Here

Norm hates this feeling. Laying in bed, he can feel his stomach twisted in knots. This gut-wrenching feeling has kept him up most of the night, realizing he’s got to make a decision. As far as he’s deduced from his sleepless night of pondering, he’s got two primary options.

Option A. He pretends yesterday’s conversation with (Y/N) never happened, and they continue exchanging small talk, pleasantries, and those awkward neighbor half-waves until the end of time. The scaredy cat in him prefers this option. It avoids confrontation and maintains the status quo they’ve held for the last couple of years. It is simple and lacks any unnecessary entanglements. Things just go on according to plan. He’s done it before, it can easily be done again.

OR he can proceed with Option B to confront (Y/N) about what she said in the cafeteria yesterday. This option has sparked his curious side. Cause that entire interaction was odd, wasn’t it? Norm had so many questions, but are they worth pursuing? Opening that can of worms could lead to more problems, more decisions, and fewer answers. No. He needed to know. Curiosity might just kill the cat, but at least he’d be able to sleep at night.

(Y/N) worked in one of the maintenance labs as Vault 33’s official Pip-Boy Programmer—one of the perks of doing well on the Vault G.O.A.T exams. Norm was eager, planning to stop by the lab first thing before he headed to his desk. Unless someone had major issues with their Pip-Boy, they’d probably have the lab to themselves that early. Alright, it was decided. He threw off the certified Vault-Tec comforter, climbed out of bed, and headed toward the shower to get ready.

—--------------------

You were already at your desk, pretending to be occupied, when Norm MacLean appeared in the doorway of the lab, leaning on the doorframe and fiddling with his Pip-Boy. Truth be told, you were half-expecting him, especially after yesterday. But maybe not this soon. You were hoping he’d stew on this decision for at least a day.

“Good Morning, Norm. Pip-Boy on the fritz?” you ask, knowing full well that the reason he was here had nothing to do with his Pip-Boy. Even if his Pip-Boy was malfunctioning, Norm was more than capable of taking care of that repair without your assistance.

“Yeah, I think I’m having some software issues. Do you think you could do a diagnostic run for me?”

You smile, “Of course. If you wouldn’t mind taking it off and filling out the repair form, I can start right away.”

He complies, handing you his Pip-Boy and taking the clipboard with the attached Vault-Tec paperwork. As he starts on the paperwork, he estimates he’s got roughly twenty minutes of fake errand cover to work with.

You attach the Pip-Boy to the diagnostic cable running from your computer, load up the program, and wait. “It will just be a few minutes to get a full picture of what’s going on,” you reassure him.

“That’s fine. My supervisor knows I was having a few issues with it this morning,” Norm says, barely looking up from the clipboard.

The two of you fall into awkward silence, neither wanting to be the first to break it.

You relent. “Hey, I’m sorry if yesterday made you uncomfortable. I know we haven’t spoken much at all lately, but I heard about what happened from Reg, and I just couldn’t stop myself from coming over. It wasn’t right of me to use your situation as my catharsis, especially since we had that failing out. I should have respected that. We can continue on as we were, friendly neighbors in the same Vault.” The words stuck in your throat on the way out. That’s not what you wanted, but if that’s what Norm came here to say, better get it out of the way sooner.

Oof, now he felt terrible. Norm should have known you’d apologize for thinking you made him uncomfortable. That’s your nature. You’ve always been empathic to the needs of your friends. He needs to come clean.

“I never wanted that.”

I’m sorry. What did he say? He never wanted that. To stop being friends? Your brain was going a mile a minute, swirling with questions, too many to vocalize at once. Thankfully, Norm elaborated before you even tried.

“I never wanted to stop being friends, but the closer we got to graduation, the more effort you seemed to put into exams and passing, being the best in the class. You had ambitions and goals, and (Y/N) you could achieve them. You didn’t need to be dragged down by the Black Sheep of Vault 33.” He tries not to think about his label, and usually, it doesn’t bother him. But right now, it weighs on him; it feels laminated across his forehead, defining him.

“Norman,” you manage to sigh out. “I’ve always admired that about you. That’s what I meant yesterday. I wish I had the confidence to act that way before now; I’m sure I’d be much happier. After my dad passed away, I wasn’t sure how I was going to navigate,” you gesture to the air around you, "everything. I was on my own, and subconsciously, I picked up on the reality that the better I did in that classroom or for the Vault, the more control I thought I could have over my life.”

She didn’t need to explain. He knew exactly what she meant. It is kind of an unspoken rule of Vault 33. Obviously, those who did well on their exams got matched into the most coveted jobs within the vault, but those placements also impacted other situations. Those higher-achieving students had more say in when and to whom they were married, more access to leadership positions, and the list goes on.

“I had no idea how my life would go, but at least I knew I wanted a hand on the steering wheel. I mean, I’m not sure if I actually want to be married or if that’s part of the programming to be in a relationship, but whatever happens, I want it to at least feel as though I made the decision." You pause and add, "Seriously, could you imagine if I got stuck having to marry Chad Johnston?”

Norm snorted. The juxtaposition of his former classmates as a married couple was hilarious. Those two couldn’t be more opposites. “Well, at least he’d have someone to teach him to read,” he managed between laughs.

This garnered a snicker from you as well. “Haha, you’re hilarious,” you say in the most sarcastic tone you can muster. “So, what do you think? Can we act like adults and finally move on? Or do we double down on whatever self-destructive tendencies we’ve got going on here?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know about you, but I’m really leaning into that second one.” He pauses and puts his hand to his chin. “On the other hand, it might be nice to have lunch with someone I’m not related to.”

DING. “Vault-Tec Pip-Boy diagnostic program is now complete, no issues were detected.”

You both smile. “Well, it looks like the software issues seemed to have resolved themselves.”

“Isn’t technology incredible?” Norm asks as he stands to leave.

#norm maclean #norm maclean x reader #norm maclean x oc #fallout #fallout tv series

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neighborlystudios · 1 month

Text

・﹒・ from vault 32 [1]

Summary: You got approved for a marriage partner from Vault 31 after not finding a suitable boyfriend in your own. After meeting your future husband, and standing ready to saw your vows, you both agree to call it off. But they couldn't not have a wedding- so you chose his cousin.

Warnings: 18+, arranged marriage

Pairing: Norman MacLean x GN!reader

Notes: Yes I love him and Cooper I am a man of many tastes. Also this was too long for 1 part so I broke it up. Where my Norm lovers at???

Parts: 2

Today was the day- you were getting married! Despite not dating much, you were excited yet equally as nervous since your new spouse was someone completely unknown to you. Sure, you had crushes here and there, but all the guys here were so...boring?

Nothing about them were interesting to you, they were all the same, so that led you to seeking out Vault 31 for someone. This was completely normal so it wasn't odd, if anything, it was just a matter of time. Well, the time came and was now just moments away from seeing your soon to be husband.

"We're so proud of you...we'll miss you but, just know that we we'll always love you" Your mother sniffled as she adjusted your appearance here and there, ensuring that you were as perfect as can be. You assured her that you would visit once a year and that everything was fine. You, your family, the overseer, and few other dwellers of your vault who you knew stood outside of the entrance to 31, and you were nervous. Then, the door slowly opened.

There he was, standing in the center just like you were with your vault members. He was tall, and attractive, but you didn't know what to even say. Then, your friend bumped into your shoulder as a sign to say something as everyone else was silent, anticipating you and your future husband to say something.

"Um...hello" That was not the ideal first impression, but you couldn't help it! You could hear your friend groan from the awkwardness, which was understandable.

"Hi, I'm uh...Chet. You can call me Chet! Haha...yeah, Chet" Either he was having an off day or he didn't seem too interested in you. Was there supposed to be some sort of spark? Because you know you didn't feel anything and it was obvious that he didn't either. Awkwardly laughing along with him, internally cringing, your graze drifted over to the much shorter man beside him.

Oh he was cute. Shorter than you, but he had short, black hair and all you could really describe him as was cute. Why couldn't you have been paired up with him instead? Your eyes and his eyes both met and only then did you feel that spark. But before you could fully process what that means- their overseer ushered everyone to their vault so the wedding can begin.

"Hi...Chet. So...excited? Nervous?" You tried to make small talk as you walked beside him, but it was if everyone around you could sense that this wasn't going to work out.

"Well...if I'm being fully honest, I was put up to this" He leaned closer and whispered in your ear, the honesty caused you to gasp but then you realized that you needed to be secretive as he whispered it to you.

"Oh...but why?" You whispered back, slightly concerned. Your gaze drifted back to the shorter man standing on the other side of him and you caught him staring back at you.

"Well uh...I may or may not have a crush on my cousin, Lucy. So they uh...thought this would help me get over it. Namely her father, the Overseer" Turning back to Chet, you just stared at him as that was...unexpected, to say the least. Clearing your throat from how awkward it got. you didn't feel bad about not marrying him anymore. Stealing another glance at the shorter man, you looked back at your arranged husband and he looked back and forth between the man and you.

"Ok- either I'm stupid or do you guys like each other?" You slightly jumped as he was suddenly louder than before, causing a few heads to turn in your direction before facing forward again.

"Chet!" The black haired man scolded him and hit his shoulder, causing Chet to say "ow".

"This is Norm, he's my cousin and Lucy's younger brother" Chet smiled as he introduced the man who you fell for far too quickly, you awkwardly smiled at him and he did the same back.

"Hi Norm, nice to uh...meet you"

"Nice to meet you too..."

"What's going on?" A girl with long, dark hair whispered from the other side of Norm, curious of what you were all discussing.

"Nothing, Lucy!" Chet and Norm both yelled in hush. So that's Lucy... After that- you made small talk about some things from your lives and before you knew it, you were on the small stage ready to say your vows, looking at him and he was looking back. But you both knew that this wasn't going to work out in the slightest. Staring into the crowd mixed with his family and yours- you found Norm looking back at you. His expression seemed...pained, almost. Did you both genuinely fall for each other while you're marrying another man? Like sure he was really cute...but you just felt drawn to him in a way Chet wasn't.

"Do you?" The sound of the officiate shook you from your thoughts as you looked back, humming to have him repeat it.

"Do you take him to be your lawfully wedded husband?" You stuttered as you stared at Chet, he looked as equally as worried about this, not wanting to go through with it. So you said the first thing you thought.

"No"

#fallout #fallout tv series #norman maclean #norm maclean x reader #fallout x reader #norm x reader

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rebelliousstories · 1 month

Text

Take My Breath Away

Relationship: Norm McLean x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: Yes by @fallout-girl219

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Pregnancy, Vague Birth Description

Word Count: 1,074

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Part Two of: What Did You Say?

Summary: Finding out they were expecting was one thing. Actually being there through the pregnancy is another.

12 Weeks

Norm was astounded by the change in his life. With his own vault home, he was taking care of his lovely wife, and their children. The twins were still forming, but there was a sense of duty for them. They had yet to announce that they were pregnant to anyone else except for their families, but it would be getting difficult soon to keep it to themselves. Even at the end of the first trimester, she was starting to show enough that she could not dismiss it. She continued to work during the first few months once they had accepted the fact that they were, indeed, going to be parents.

16 Weeks

“Norm! Come here!” Her excited shout startled the man who was fixing her a pregnancy meal. He rushed over, and was dragged by his hand to her growing belly. Being larger than a singleton pregnancy, her belly was a hot spot of activity. Two sets of arms, legs, feet and hands to push and prod. She placed her husband’s hand on her belly and waited. They waited for a couple minutes before Norm decided to speak up.

“What are we doing?” He asked, only to be shushed by his wife. And that is when he felt it. Norm felt one of the twins kick. She eagerly looked towards his face as he grappled with his emotions. Letting out a shaky breath, Norm placed both of his hands on her belly and was rewarded with more kicks. She placed a hand over his, and the other went to his face.

“Are you okay?” She questioned, wiping the stray tear from his face.

“Perfect.” He replied, not even realizing that it had fallen.

32 Weeks

What Norm did to be at this point in his life, he will never know. He knows that the logical explanation is that his wife is overwhelmed with pregnancy hormones and that is the reason she is acting the way she was. But the illogical part of his brain was trying to find what he did wrong. At eight months with twins, she was over being pregnant. There was always something that she complained about.

“Norm, I can’t get my shoes on.”

“Why does toast smell that way? It’s gross.”

“I don’t know why I’m crying but fix it! All I want is ice cream.”

There was always something. But Norm being the dutiful husband he was, helped her with her shoes, got rid of the toast he made them for breakfast, and was currently on his way to go get her some ice cream. His only options were chocolate or vanilla, so he got both, just knowing that if he did not, he would hear about it. The cartons were ice cold in his hands, but they made her happy. Joy erupted on her face when she saw those cartons.

“You’re the best, Norm.” And she dug into those pints of ice cream. She offered him a spoon, to which he accepted and ate a little bit of the vanilla.

“What do you think about names?” She asked in between bites of ice cream. Norm thought for a moment before responding.

“I’m not sure. We kind of need four names; two boy and two girl.” He answered, dropping his spoon and letting her take the rest of the sweet dessert.

“Well they’ll be here sooner than we think. They can’t come home without names.” She lamented, staring off into her ice cream. Norm slung an arm over her and rubbed it in soothing circles.

36 Weeks

“I’m going to kill you, Norm!” Yet again, the man found himself in a position he had not thought he would ever get to. Holding his wife’s hand, she was holding it in a death grip on the hospital bed.

“You’re ready to push, Mrs. MacLean. We need you to push when you feel it.” The doctor said, gearing up for the eventful evening.

“I swear to all that is good and holy, Norm. You’re never touching me again.” She screeched, bearing down and yelling as she tried to push.

“Anything you want, but our babies need us now. You’re doing so good.” He tried to reassure her while losing feeling in his hands. Another scream that was followed by a push, that was followed by an exclamation.

“I see the first head. Come on, Mrs. Maclean.” Her doctor encouraged, as the woman screamed in pain. A baby’s wail pierced the air shortly afterwards, and there was a brief second of relief.

“We’ve got the first one. Take them.” The doctor hurriedly passed the newly born baby to a nurse while the second one was on its way out. Two large pushes later and the second baby screamed its entrance into the world.

“Norm, come here. Do you want to cut the cord?” The doctor was already prepping the area for a second person, and Norm looked to his wife. Tiredly, she shooed him down to cut their babies’ umbilical cords, while she rested against the pillows. The doctor showed Norm what to do and pushed him back towards his wife while they took their newborns away to get all the measurements and weights they needed to.

“We did it, hun. You did it. You brought our babies into the world.” He whispered gleefully, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She breathed tiredly, and wrapped her hand around his in a weak effort to communicate. The doctor and another nurse walked back in shortly afterwards with two swaddled babies. A bundle of pink and a bundle of blue were passed to the new parents.

“Have you decided on names?” The doctor asked, while the nurse stood ready to take down the information.

“I want the Kimora name set for her.” Norm’s wife piped up with a weak voice.

“Okay,” he replied, “he is going to be Kaylan Hank MacLean.” Norm held up his son. He pointed to his daughter next to him.

“She is going to be Kimora Rose MacLean.” He smiled as he thought about his children.

“Alright. We’ll be back. Congratulations.” With that, the doctor and the nurse left the room while the parents turned to each other.

“We did it. Hi there, sweetheart.” She cooed to their daughter in her arms.

“Yeah. We did.” Norm replied, feeling breathless at the fact that he now had children. It was that moment that shifted his entire world view forever.

#rebelliousstories #writing #fallout imagine #fallout #norman maclean x oc #norm maclean x oc #norm maclean imagine #norm maclean x reader #norman maclean x reader #norm maclean

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 30 days

Note

Omggg I’m so glad someone else agrees with my Norm x dommy mommy thoughts 😭

Sorry, I read this as "please post NSFW Norm MacLean headcanons". That's what it says, right?

Norm MacLean NSFW Headcanons

- We've seen that "casual sex as a way to combat boredom" is obviously on the table for people in Vault 33. Norm might not be the most popular guy in the vault, but hey, surely for every sexually active person in there, there's only so many available dicks you're not directly related to, so I imagine he's fairly experienced and confident in himself in terms of sex. He just sucks at getting over the "seduction" hurdle because he's so used to people rejecting him/not taking him seriously/thinking he's weird.

- Has an average-sized penis, but it looks pretty impressive on him because he's a below-average sized man in most other places. Doesn't hurt him in the confidence department.

- I'd describe him as a switch; how dominant or submissive he'd be would be would depend on his partner. But I think if he found himself someone that he really trusted and was comfortable with, he'd lean sub. I think he'd like to have someone to take care of him like that, to want him enough to want that too.

- Loves being marked up; hickies, scratch marks, little love bruises. He's crazy for them all. All the better if they're visible to others.

- This man is such a sucker for having his hair pulled. Like, the kind of pulling where you thread your fingers in and tug at it from the roots. Pull his hair to hold him on your breast, hold his head in place while he eats you out, tug at it to make him look at you while you fuck him. It drives him wild.

- Three words: face sitting fetish. He wants your entire weight on his face and chest, and if it isn't, he's yanking on you until it is. He knows how to put that nose to use!

- Obviously loves being ridden, but I think he'd also really enjoy missionary...especially if his partner is a lot bigger/taller than him.

#Norm MacLean deserves someone to carry him bridal style to bed #norm maclean #norm maclean smut #fallout tv show #fallout prime #norm maclean x reader #norm maclean x you #submission #non ghoul post

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deedeeruin · 2 months

Text

Dear dear Writers of Tumblr

You always feed me well and as soon as I start a new TV série or book or movie saga , I always KNOW I will have a fanfiction waiting for me in here somewhere about ANY character I want ...now..

Please can we have Norm MacLean X reader fanfic please ?! 🥺 Amen

(i never think I would like the character as much as I do 😔🫢)

(feel free to write smut xx)

#norm maclean #norm maclean x reader #norman maclean fanfic #fallout fanfics #fallout series #fallout #fallout prime #fallout amazon #normanmacleansmut #fallout smut

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woobiz · 29 days

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Veritas Numquam Perit

The truth never dies.

cw/tags: minor violence, cursing, angst, norm maclean x f!reader

author's note: this is the first part to a series that i'm hoping to start. it's a norm maclean x raider!reader fanfic!! this first chapter is a bit short but it's only the introduction!!! i'll try to update as much as i can and future parts should be much longer. i love feedback and constructive criticism so pls tell me what you think!! pls no reposting/translations without permission.

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Lock a bunch of rats in a cage, they’re bound to fight.

The repetitive clanging of heads against metal was starting to irk me. There’s nothing worse than being stuck in a confined space with a bunch of dim-witted assholes whose only idea of a good time is beating the shit out of each other. I should’ve been out there in the wastes, flaying the skin off of Hank MacLean’s back, but instead, I’m sat in a corner, nose twitching at the scent of regurgitated jello-cake.

I flinched as a man was toppled beside me, head slamming into the steel wall with a nauseating pop. Then, he was grabbed by the ankles and torn away, leaving a trail of sticky crimson in his wake. The vault dwellers came by every now and again, pleading with us to end the fighting, promising a better future. It was all bullshit and we knew it. Sometimes they’d even take one of us off to another cell to interrogate us. I don’t know why they thought any of those idiots knew what they were fighting for. Half of the dipshits in this cell were so high on chems, they’d have taken any excuse for a good brawl. Still, those holier-than-thou vaulties fought tooth and nail to fix us.

I’m not sure how they chose which of us to drill, but I was one of the many who still hadn’t been taken. At this point, I was contemplating giving into their demands if only they’d let me out of this god forsaken dungeon.

Once again, food was served, and once again it ended up splattered across the walls. The little one –a man with a perpetual scowl etched into his face– had watched the scene, unmoving. He’d been faced with threats one after another and all he did was watch. Then, as if the gods themselves had blessed me, he pointed to me and nodded me over to be interrogated. The prospect of getting out of that cell had me jumping at the opportunity, I took what I could get.

As always, they tranquilized me. When I woke up, I was alone in another room. There, the little one stood on the other side of a glass pane. His eyes stayed glued to mine, brow furrowed.

“What do you want with my father?” he spoke quickly, almost to himself. Father. I knew the man in front of me resembled something akin to that human scum, but he didn’t have the same foul look in his eyes.

The corners of my lips curled upwards at his ignorance. “You don’t know the half of it, MacLean.”

He took a step forward. “Then please explain what I’m missing.”

My smile faded as I searched his eyes. “How close were you? You and your father?” I watched him carefully. His poker face held strong.

“Close.”

I hummed at that. His glare didn’t break. “See, I don’t think you want to know,” I said, standing to face the young MacLean. “You think that you know the type of man your father was?”

He stepped closer, face inches from the glass. “He was a good man. You people took him away. Now you’re rotting in a box.”

I struggled to keep my composure. “You want the truth? Let me out and I’ll show you.” He scoffed, turning to leave. “You think your dad was some hero? He’s a destroyer. A killer.”

He paused for a moment, his eyes locked ahead. I watched his mouth open slightly, as if to speak, but it closed as footsteps sounded down the hall. I dropped back into my seat, preparing for the sickening sweetness of vault dwellers and their pep.

“Thank you Norm, but we’ve got it from here,” a man spoke. He had a soft face with well-kept facial hair and a pair of uncracked glasses. He stood beside a thinner man with dark hair and a neck brace. They watched me through the glass, silent for a moment before the first spoke. “Hello, I am Woody.” He articulated his words as if I was too stupid to understand them at a normal pace. I didn’t reply. “We want to help you,” he said, gesturing between us.

“I am Reg.” The second one spoke in the same condescending tone. The idea of cracking the glass and punching his teeth out was appealing, I can’t lie, but they'd only tranq me again. I kept my head down, not wanting to look in the eyes of the people that had destroyed my life. “We want to open our community to you.”

“Not interested,” I barked. I lifted my head. “I didn’t come here to make friends.” My eyes narrowed at the two men.

The first man, Woody, spoke with an uncomfortable chuckle. “Well, for obvious reasons we can’t just let you leave,” he flashed an insincere smile. My eyes were locked onto his. Either this man was an excellent liar, or he was just as dumb as he looked.

“You don’t know, do you?” I laughed to myself. “You two are trying so hard to be elected overseer and you have no idea what you’re doing.” My laugh grew to a cackle. I all but had tears brimming in my eyes. These idiots!

Reg shot a concerned look at Woody. “Maybe we should tranquilize her again,” he suggested. I didn’t care to stop them. Woody reached for the gun, pointing it at me with his finger on the trigger.

“When the wastelanders string you up and cook your skin, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He pulled the trigger.

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Everything was quiet.

The room was filled with silence, save for a periodic beeping coming from just outside the door. They’d left me with a firm mattress to sleep on. I’ll admit, it was better than the bloodstained rags we’d settle for out in the wastes, but the dark of the metallic hallway wasn’t very comforting. I suppose the lack of radroaches was nice, but I’ve never been much of a sleeper.

I lay awake atop the mattress, hands clasped together against my stomach. I was surprised to hear footsteps in the distance. I didn’t think anyone was awake at this hour, but what really got me was that they were growing louder by the second. I sat up, craning my neck to see down the hall. There, a light shone on the ground.

“Hello?” I instinctively reached for a weapon, only to realize that everything had been confiscated when I was put in this dump. I raised my arm over my eyes when the light rounded the corner. It was bright, almost blinding compared to the darkness that loomed before. Squinting, I was almost able to make out the figure. It wasn’t an angel here to save me, nor a demon to drag me down to hell. Through the glass I saw a familiar vault dweller, shutting off the light from his Pip-Boy.

“Tell me what you know.” Norm MacLean stood in front of me once again. I eyed him. His hair fell messier than it had when we first spoke, draping over his forehead. I didn’t reply. His nostrils flared. “How did you know my father?”

“Ask someone else.”

He gritted his teeth. “I have. They didn’t even know his name. You did.” He glared at me through the glass. “Tell me what you know.”

“You want the truth? Like I said, you let me out and I’ll show you.”

He scoffed. “You killed our people. Because of you, my father is gone,” he barked, “and my sister, too.”

I tilted my head. “Your sister? The bride? I saw what that girl could do. Shame she died.” I stepped back, taking a seat on the mattress.

“She isn’t dead.”

I looked up. “No? Well where is she then?”

He paused, watching me. “The surface.” I raised my eyebrows.

“What’re you doing down here, then?” He broke eye contact and I stood, my tongue pressed against my inner lip as my eyes landed on his expression. He stayed quiet. “Well, I’m sure she’s a goner anyway. Vaulties don’t last long up there.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Maybe,” I stepped forward, “but at least I’m not a coward.”

He was tense, his hands balled into fists on either side of him. I watched his nose twitch in his frustration. Then, just as he came, he went. It was dark again, and I was alone.

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Days passed filled with much of the same. The vault dwellers spoke to me now and then, trying to pry for information. I was careful with my words. I had no intention of doing them any favors. Some nights I was visited by the small MacLean. Each time I told him the same thing: “If you let me out, I’ll show you the truth.”

The days grew longer and I think the vaulties realized I wasn’t going to be cracking any time soon. The nights were especially lonely. I can’t say I missed the rats I’d been locked up with, but Moldaver and I were close. Friends, even. I guess I got used to having someone else around.

That night, I sat on my mattress, back pressed against the steel wall. The past few days I hadn’t seen Norm. I’d usually sleep an hour or two. I’m not sure why I was never sent back but I wasn’t complaining. It had always been easier for me to be alone. Ever since I was a little kid, I’d known what it meant to look out for yourself. Besides, it’s better not to get attached.

The footsteps returned that night. I was almost relieved. When the hall lit up, I knew who was coming. At first, he didn’t speak. He slid down the wall on the other side of the hall, watching me through the glass, his chest heaving up and down. His face was painted with dirt and his hair fell messily over his forehead. His eyes stayed low and suddenly, I knew where he’d been.

“You went, didn’t you?” My voice pierced the silence like a blade. He looked up, “To thirty-two. You went.”

“What happened back there?”

I watched his lips curl downwards ever so slightly. “I couldn’t tell ya’.” I dropped my head, eyes locked onto the ground. “It was like that when I got there. Been like that ever since.”

“They,” he paused for a second, “killed each other.”

Neither of us spoke for a while. It was easy to say that wastelanders were evil. We all need a scapegoat. I guess when it was other vault dwellers, it was different. To Norm, they were supposed to be the good ones. They were supposed to save America.

As if it was any consolation, I spoke in a mumble. “Sometimes good people do bad things.” He sighed. Another silence fell over the scene. Something in his sadness felt all too familiar. Maybe we weren't so different. Maybe he and I were one and the same. Maybe we were two kids, still searching for something they could never get back.

#fallout #fallout prime #norm maclean #norm fallout #fallout fanfic #fallout fanfiction #norm maclean fanfic #cooper howard #lucy maclean #fallout tv #the ghoul #fallout 3 #fallout show #fallout 4 #fallout tv series #fallout series #fallout tv show #fallout amazon

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cubeshapedlemon · 12 days

Text

A Lovely Way to Spend an Evening

Norm gets transferred into another new job, in the agricultural sector. As much as he loathes working, he finds another reason to keep coming in.

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Norm Maclean x Chubby!f!reader

4.6k words

cw and tags: smut, fluff, lots of hair pulling, oral sex (f receiving), face sitting (f receiving), piv, flirting, boss/employee romance (it's not a inappropriate power dynamic thing its just how the plot shakes out), breif cum eating, coming untouched, sub!norm, dom!reader, mommy kink

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authors note: heyy yall!!! this fic took longer than the last one cuz yk life but its still out earlier than i thought it would be. The fallout brainrot has been intense and norm deserves some love!!! please tell me if I missed anything in the tags or spelling/grammatical errors. And just as a reminder my asks are always open!!! please send me requests!!! (info in pinned post) I am starting on a new (requested) norm fic pretty much as soon as I have the time. Anywho, check out my masterlist this fic and any others that i post will be updated there. Enjoy!

☆Reader pov☆

It wasn't every day someone new got rotated into one of the agriculture related jobs. It wasn't exactly appealing to most. But for you, you couldn't imagine doing anything else. Maybe that's why they placed him here, hoping your enthusiasm would rub off on him

The him, of course, being Norm Maclean. While the rest of the Maclean’s have a reputation of being dedicated hard workers, this trait was not held by the youngest of them. He didn't seem to be truly interested in anything, most of the time just fiddling with his Pip-Boy playing whatever game he had recently gotten.

When the council told you about the switch you were initially frustrated, hearing some chatter about how much he loathed every job placement he found himself in. If you remember your days of schooling together that sounds about right. While he was always exceptionally bright, he never seemed motivated to use it anywhere. Hopefully you could change that now.

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☆Norm's pov☆

Waking up today Norm managed to be in an even worse mood than normal. Yesterday's meeting with the council was pretty similar to the ones in the past. They berate him politely for a while, look over his performance review, chat in whispers to each other, and then reassign him.

Though, this time they had decided to do things slightly differently. Usually they would assign him to a specific job, this time they just decided to send him to the agriculture sector, it now being the agricultural manager's job to figure out where he needs to go. Must be tired of handling specifics after reassigning him twelve times now.

Anyway, no use in dwelling on yesterday. Norm lazily drags himself out of bed, taking a quick shower before dressing himself and digging around in the fridge for some of the leftover Cram from dinner last night. Making no haste at all, he eventually makes his way to his new job. Only a few minutes late.

Looking around, he sees everyone else already at work, doing whatever it is they are supposed to do, occasionally stopping to have a quick chat with someone nearby. In his scan he sees someone walking towards him. Figuring she's the agricultural manager he was supposed to meet he gives a tight-lipped smile and an awkward wave. She responds with a polite smile of her own.

Her walk is confident, hips swaying. She is built with clear strength in her, because of all the farmwork, Norm figures, despite this, her figure is still plush in all the right places. She has a bright, but powerful air around her.

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☆Reader pov☆

Looking him up and down, Norm doesn't seem to have changed much. While obviously he looks older now, his slight figure and short stature are much the same, his permanent scowl still there too. “Well, if it isn't Norm Maclean,” you say, offering your hand to shake. Taking it, he gives what seems like a sarcastic smile, greeting you by name as well.

Brushing that off for now, you continue. “As I'm sure is clear by now, you will be working under me. For the next few days, we will just be figuring out where to place you job-wise. How does that sound?” you ask, keeping a polite, professional tone.

“Just peachy,” he responds with a sarcastically congenial tone. He really had no idea what he was getting himself into.

He needs someone to mold him, and you are happy to take on that role. While his underlying insecurity is clear, he has a smugness when it comes to work that needs to be broken. And you know just how to do that.

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☆Norm pov☆

Walking into work the next day Norm is greeted by you, your energy dimmer than yesterday. “You ready to start training?” you ask, no smile, no wave or handshake. Something deep inside him pangs, he had no commitment to this job, just the same as his last. But in some vague way the idea that he had already disappointed you sits like lead in his stomach. Attempting to shake off that feeling, he tries to go back to his usual unwilling, and uninterested mood.

The first day is pretty simple. It mostly consists of him following you around and listening to you ramble off rules, policies and how the different systems work. When you get to the point where you are explaining the machine maintenance, his interest piques. You would think after being rotated through jobs enough times this would have happened once or twice. Evidently it had not. Though rather disappointingly, you move on swiftly.

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The following days were grueling. Grueling might be an overstatement, they were difficult. But he had some very enthusiastic help. You were always there to lend a helping hand on whatever task he was struggling at that moment. Many of those tasks being strength-based.

It's not like Norm was out of shape or anything, he just wasn't exactly on your level muscle wise. He would be lying if he said it wasn't nice on some level to see you walk over him with a sarcastic grin every time he struggled to lift something. Just like now in fact, as he struggles to move a particularly heavy crate.

“Need some help there pretty boy?” you come over chuckling, a blush rises to his face at your nickname.“Yes, please. Thank you,” he smiles, looking up at you. Smiling back at him you grab onto the crate, lifting it and setting it on your hip with only a small grunt of effort. “Walk with me,” you say, nodding your head at him as you walk to bring the crate to its home.

☆Reader pov☆

Keeping your pace you wait for Norm to follow you, after a moment or two he joins you at your side. “So, I've been thinking,” you drawl, attempting to get his full attention. “Yes?” he says, probably quicker than he meant to. His tone is clearly eager, but covered with a light veil of his usual sarcasm.

“I think I want to place you in repairs and data entry. You seem to be good at it, does that sound good to you?” you ask, already knowing what his answer will be. “Yes! I mean yeah, that sounds good. When do I start?” Norm looks up at you with gratitude, his too-cool facade breaking in favor of a sly-looking but genuine smile.

“You can start tomorrow,” you say, setting the crate down in its rightful place, turning now to face him. “I still have to get my use outta’ you here before I send you away,” you joke, giving him a smirk of your own. The blush on his face deepens, clearly taking your phrasing in a certain way. He turns his head to the side in a poor attempt to hide it. Deciding to tease him a bit more, you run your fingers through his hair before grasping at the roots. “You getting shy on me now, pretty boy?”

Norm's breath audibly hitches for a moment, his adam's apple bobbing in an almost comical fashion. “No,” he replies, if he was trying to sound convincing you couldn't tell, his tone a simpering whine compared to his usual one. “Sure, sure,” you concede sarcastically, letting go of his hair. “Come on now, there's still work to be done.” you give a playful pat on one of his cheeks before walking ahead a few paces. Not hearing him follow, you turn your head slightly to the side. “You coming Maclean?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Norm quickly answers, moving to follow you now.

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☆Norm pov☆

For the rest of the day Norm finds himself being exceedingly pathetic. While of course he has had crushes and flings in the past, the one he has now is different. In many ways it embarrassed him. Following the cliché of the dainty damsel in distress and the big strong hero coming in to save and woo her. He of course is the damsel, and the source of distress is just being bad at his job. Anyway, it fits it well enough. He truly did feel like the stereotypical damsel in this situation, he is a fully capable adult and yet he found himself so whipped for his ‘hero’ that he could not get anything done.

He spent the rest of the day periodically doing something of the smallest bit of use. But the majority of the time he was not-so-subtlety checking you out. At some point, you had pulled down your vault suit, tying it at your waist. This gave him a perfect view of your arms as you worked. Every once and a while you would catch him staring, chuckling at his desperate expression and embarrassment at being caught.

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Moving into his new job position, Norm quickly finds himself at home. There are only one or two other people in his same position so much of the day is just peaceful work on his own. While he does talk to and get along with his coworkers the person he really likes talking to is you. You check in with him in the morning before his shift, asking him how his day is going. All polite chatter with a cheek-burning innuendo slipped in every once and a while. Of course he finds ways to keep that conversation going when he can.

If only he had an inch more confidence. He would return your affections. He tells himself that you're probably just being polite, just regular friendly interactions. The fact that there had been a recent uptick in broken machinery that only he could fix was a coincidence. So was you just feeling like wearing a particularly low cut undershirt on days you felt like checking in on him more than normal. And how your hand always found itself on his lower back while he explained a maintenance issue to you.

You know, super platonic boss stuff. This routine sticks around. You continue with your usual flirts, flounces, and pet names. Oh god, the pet names. You seemed to be laying more on in every single conversation, not that Norm's complaining. After a little while he gains the confidence to flirt back a bit. If you can call his attempts flirting. He figures you get the message.

Today looks to be starting much of the same. Walking into the break room, he starts his regular routine. Putting his lunch in the fridge, making some coffee, and of course, talking with you when you come in three, two, one…

☆Reader pov☆

“Hey pretty boy,” you greet, as usual. “Morning ma'am” he responds respectfully. “Oh come on Norm, you know you don't have to call me ma'am,” You scoff, rolling your eyes at his formality. He chuckles at this, taking a sip from his coffee before refocusing on you. “I know, I know. It just feels right I guess.

“Well I guess I can't argue with that,” you concede, “It does just feel right to have you under me.” Norm chokes on his coffee at this, awkwardly sputtering it back in his cup. “As in our job hierarchy of course,” you smile, taking a sip of your own coffee. “Of course.”

Giggling to yourself for only a moment more you remind yourself of what you actually had to say. “Anyways, I'm writing up your first performance review today,” you inform, tone still light. “Oh?” he questions, anxiety pushing forward in his throat. “Yeah! No need to be worried, you've been an A+ worker these past few weeks.” you see as a wave of calm passes over him. You grin at this, stepping closer towards him. “I was just wondering if you would come to my place for dinner tonight. We could go over it, chat a little.” You step closer again, placing your mug on the counter, stepping in front of him now. Chests a breath away from each other.

You can hear his breath hitch, face turning red at your proximity. Running your hand across his jaw, you grasp his chin, tipping it up, he now looks up at you. Deep brown eyes shining with a glint of something you can't quite place. “Have some fun and such. What do you think about that baby? Sound good?”

He manages to whine out an affirmative sound. “Good, 7 o'clock, don't be late.” you say, giving his cheek a quick pinch before turning around and bending over an unnecessary amount to grab your coffee off the counter and running off to actually do your job.

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☆Norm pov☆

The rest of the work day seemed to pass by at an unbearably slow rate. While Norm has plenty to keep himself busy with, he can't keep his mind can only fixate on your earlier conversation. Only a few more grueling hours until your little dinner date.

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Checking his Pip-boy for what seems like the millionth time today, It's finally time to clock out. Saying short goodbyes to his coworkers, Norm rushes out of work as quickly as possible without looking entirely stupid. He certainly felt stupid. Never in his life has he ever been this desperate for someone.

Anyway, what do people even do to prepare for a date? Was this a date? Is all this tension not real? Is he just being a dick-brained idiot about all this? Honestly nothing could convince him one way or the other. But at this point who cares? He has to get ready anyway, he has to be presentable for you.

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☆Reader pov☆

You open your door at 7 o'clock sharp, and just as you agreed to, Norm is standing in front of you. He greets you with a smile. “On time for once, impressive,” you tease, leaning against the side of your door. “Well, I could never leave a woman like you waiting,” he flattered, “May I come in?”

You chuckle, turning around and waving him inside, “If you promise to be good.” Walking in behind you he breathes out a laugh, “I think I can manage that.” You offer him a seat at the table, which he takes. Your apartment lights are dimmed slightly, the blinds are closed and you have put on some music. It plays just loud enough to be heard, still soft enough to blend into the background.

You busy yourself at the kitchen counter, putting together the last few finishing touches on the meal. “So, how have you been liking the new job?” you prompt, turning your head slightly towards him. “It's pretty good. Certainly better than the last twelve, that's for sure,” he jokes, attention still kept on you. Chuckling a bit at his comment you turn around, a plate in each hand. “Any particular reason you think? A certain task or, coworker, making it worth your while?” you ask, feigning cluelessness.

You walk to the table, setting the plates down while sitting opposite Norm. “You could say that,” he concedes, you hum in acknowledgement, using your fork to push the food around your plate lazily. Looking down at his plate Norm looks back up at you. “I really hate to say it, you went through all this work but,”

“But what?” you question, concern bubbling lowly in your stomach. “I'm just not really hungry for what you've cooked.” he says, faux sadness in his tone. Catching on now, smile lightly to yourself. Moving your chair to sit closer to him, you play along. “Well I can make you something else if you want? What are you in the mood for?”

Pushing his chair back, he kneels in front of you, hands delicately placed in his lap. He looks up at you with an expression that can only be described as pathetic. “You.” Laughing to yourself you indulge him. Sighing, you run your hand down his face. He leans into your touch, releasing a small whine at the affection. “Is that so?” you tease, widening your stance so he can scoot in farther between your legs.

He nods, leaning further into your touch he delicately delicately reaches to tug off your boots, pausing briefly first. “Please,” he purrs, you nod once, giving him permission. Has he pulls of your boots as you unzip your suit, pulling it down your body. He pauses to toss your boots and socks to the side briefly, before returning his focus. You stand momentarily, pulling off your undershirt as he occupies himself by leisurely pulling your vault suit down, and off of you.

You look down at him, his ever present gaze still fixed onto yours. Running your fingers through his hair you tug him up, he releases a pained, yet sensual moan. Eyes glassy as he pulls himself to stand. “Let's take this to the bedroom pretty boy,” you coo, craning your neck to bring him into a short, but passionate kiss. He whines as you separate, following quickly behind you as you walk to the other room.

Once you are there, you come farther into his space, walking him towards the foot of he bed. When his legs hit it, you push him on, crawling after him. Your legs bracket his own, one hand supporting your weight near his head, the other traces its way around his center. You rub your palm over his growing bulge, pleasantly surprised by the size. “You're looking a little overdressed baby,” you say, moving your hand to his zipper, though it is caught by his.

“Wait, I want to taste you first. Please,” he expresses, hands going to your hips and squeezing the softness there. “Whatever you want,” you declare, leaning down to give him a soft kiss before moving up his body to hover above his face. “Just tap my leg three times if you need a break ok?”

“I won't need one.”

Before you can give what he said another thought you feel your underwear tear off at your hips. Norm quickly tosses the now scrap of fabric somewhere in the room. His arms swiftly wrap around your thighs, pulling you down to meet his open and waiting mouth. Surprised by his sudden actions you fall forward, one hand catching the headboard, the other, falling to his hair. The inertia of the fall forces you to tug. The sensation sparking a deep groan from him, the vibrations dancing across your core delicately.

“Fuck- you caught me off guard. You're supposed to warn a lady about these things,” you chastise half-jokingly, your hips falling into a rhythm. Norm replies with a half-hearted muffled something or other. He is clearly much more engrossed in the task at hand, and much too brainless to respond.

You feel the familiar waves of pleasure spark in your stomach, your body now becoming hypersensitive to touch. The overwhelming feeling causes your hips to buck up, only for them to be slammed back down by Norm.

As your moans grow louder, his, seem to as well. His tongue flattens across your core, he pushes your hips forward in time with your own movements. His nose bumping into your clit, the extra sensation causing you to release another round of wetness, one that he is all-too eager to lap up. Desperate for more he moves his tongue to your entrance, you clench desperately around as it works its way inside of you. “Fuck baby- you're going to make me come,” you groan out, tugging on his hair once more.

Something about that seemed to further motivate him. His lewd groans and whimpers only getting louder, and his actions only getting more ferocious. It's not long until your waves of pleasure finally come crashing down. They crash harder than they ever have, an unfamiliar intensity that Norm seems to sense, his moans getting to be almost as loud as yours, if not for your body muffling them. As you come back from your bliss, you lean back, looking down at him. Only then you realized what happened

The entire lower half of his face is soaked, and the sheets behind him. “Geeze did I just-?” you gasp out, you don't remember the last time you properly squirted. “Mhm…” he affirms, kissing your thighs, and giving your core a few gentle kitten licks. “Please, can we go again? I want to make you do it again…” he whines out, now giving your thighs small nips with his teeth. “I don't know if I can, pretty boy. It was already special when you got me to the first time, another time would be even harder,” you inform, he clearly doesn't like your answer, responding with an annoyed groan.

“Please, please let me try again. I can do it mommy! I can do it! Just one more!”

Your core involuntarily clenches at the name, his pathetic teary eyes not helping either. “Ok, one more. Be a good boy and help mommy come again.” Eyes lighting up, he smiles with satisfaction. Pulling your hips back to his mouth, he starts again, somehow more enthusiastic than before. Still sensitive from your last orgasm, the next one builds up even faster. “Mnhm- you're so good for me. Just like that.” The waves crash harder and harder than before, pushing you to the edge. Your hips buck wildly against his face, pressure building up once more. After an embarrassingly short amount of time, you come undone once more.

Your entire body tingles from the release, pleasure ebbing from every particle and atom. You soon go boneless, sliding down his body you cuddle up to his side. Grabbing his face to turn to you, Norm gives you a satisfied-looking smirk. “You proud of yourself?” you joke, leaning in to lock lips with him, tasting yourself. He deepens the kiss, turning to fully face you. He slots one of his legs between yours, giving a comfortable pressure where you need him most. His hands go to unclasp your bra. Both of you parting for barely a moment to rid you of it.

As soon as the bra hits the floor, one of his hands goes to cup your breast, squeezing softly. Parting once more, his smug look now has an extra needy layer to it. “I am very proud of myself, yes,” he answers, moving down your body now, capturing one of your nippes in his mouth. Groaning at the sensation, you place your hand back to its rightful spot in his hair. Pulling him closer, you begin to do your own groping as well. Hands tracing down his back, giving a quick squeeze to his butt before trailing back to his front.

His bulge is still going strong, pawing at it firmly, he whines pathetically, releasing from your breast with a pop. “You need me here, pretty boy?” you coo, giving his bulge a delicate squeeze. He only manages to respond with a nod and a few desperate thrusts into your hand. “Don't worry baby, I'll take care of you.” You give him a soft kiss on his lips, pushing him to be flat on his back again.

Crawling back on top of him, you hover now at his hips, leaning forward to pull down the zipper of his suit. Now fully unzipped, you tug down the suit, revealing his body as you do. He lifts his hips up briefly to help you. Pulling it fully off, you remove his boots and socks as well. He now finds himself in only his light grey boxers. Though, you notice something, crawling up his body again you see it, a dark stain on his boxers. A new, wet stain.

You give a light gasp, looking up at him. Already knowing what you are reacting to, his face is beet red and turned to the side. He doesn't dare to make eye contact. “Is this what I think it is?” you question, attempting to hide your arousal. “...Yes,” he shamefully admits, face somehow getting more red. “You came just from eating me out?” Not being able to bare speaking anymore he gives a sound in the affirmative. “Geez- thats so hot,” you admit.

That certainly brings a reaction out of him. He pulls himself up on his elbows, turning his head to face you again. “Really?” he questions, clearly unsure if you were being serious. “Yes really,” you answer, rolling your eyes at his stupidity. Pulling his boxers off, you run your fingers across his skin, collecting some of his leftover spend. You put your fingers into your mouth, moaning at the slight salty taste. You watch his pupils dilate impossibly wider, his erection getting impossibly harder by the second.

You seductively pull your fingers out, spit dripping from them as you bring them to his hardness. The slickness providing lubricant as you lazily pump a few times. You lick your lips in anticipation, looking up at his desperately flushed cheeks and sympathetic eyes. “I need you baby, You gonna let mommy ride you?” His brain seems to short circuit at your question for a moment, as if he can't believe it's actually happening.

He eventually comes to, responding to you with a nod and a whispered yes. At that you can't help but smile, grabbing his hips, you half-carry-half-push them to the headboard so that he can sit up properly. He releases a quiet whine at the show of strength, pulling you to mount his hips.

Grasping his hardness again, you swipe the tip through your folds a few times before easily sliding him inside. The sensation causing you both to groan. It's like he was made to be inside you. Not wanting to waste any more time, you quickly start a brutal rhythm. Though, this rhythm soon becomes rather disjointed and irregular. Taking that as a sign, Norm responds by quickly snapping his own hips to match your thrusts. This slight change is very welcome, his tip now battering against that one spot inside of you, your knees going weak at the feeling.

Noticing you falter, he picks up the slack. Holding your hips still, he manages to keep the unearthly pace. Both of your pleasures growing every second. “I-I’m not going to last long,” he admits through a moan. “It's ok pretty boy, neither am I,” you respond, feeling yourself get near the precipice. “Let go for me baby, come for me.”

His body seems to take that as a command, hips stuttering as you feel his warmth seep inside of you. With a few more of his harsh thrusts you come undone alongside him, slumping forward you unintentionally shove your breasts in is face, not that he is complaining. His desperate moans and whimpers now muffled by your chest.

You stay pressed against each other for a long while, not daring to disturb the peace. After a few minutes, you peel yourself off of him, moving him to lay down against your pillows you give him a soft kiss before turning to go to the bathroom. His hand catches your wrist, forcing you to stop. Turning back to him you remove his hand, leaning in to place a delicate kiss to his chest.

“It’s ok, I will be right back, I just need to get myself cleaned up.” Seeming to take that as a sufficient answer, he nods, allowing you to go. After going to the bathroom you clean yourself up, and grab a fresh washcloth. Wetting it you walk back to the bedroom, already hearing soft snores. Smiling quietly to yourself you clean him up, wiping all evidence of your activities away.

Tossing the washcloth into your hamper, you climb into bed. Norm unconsciously moves to cuddle into your chest, face cradled between your breasts, one arm holding onto your plush waist. Pulling up the covers you sigh, life can not get better than this.

#fallout #fallout tv series #norm maclean #norm maclean smut #norm maclean x oc #norm maclean x reader

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