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🔸 [Links to Short-Form Works/Drabbles/Headcanons]
Fallout 3 Short-Form Works
Fallout: New Vegas Short-Form Works
Fallout 4 Short-Form Works
Fallout 76 Short-Form Works
Fallout (2024) Short-Form Works
Ranking and Discussing Ghoul Behaviors and Kinks (NSFW)
Ranking and Discussing Ghoul Behaviors and Opinions (SFW)
Ghoul Biology and General Lore Discussions
Kinktober 2025 Master List
🔸 [Long-Form/Ongoing Works]
☢️ A Visit Between Friends (CHAPTER 2 NOW AVAILABLE)
Edward Deegan x Nora/Female Sole Survivor
Ongoing Work (18+) / 11.5k
Nora has a sleepover at Cabot House, and a visit between friends becomes much more.
☢️ Duplicity (CHAPTER 2 NOW AVAILABLE)
Prewar!Cooper Howard x Female Reader
Ongoing Work, Ask Submission (18+) / 11.4K
You've been forming a relationship with Cooper Howard over the last several months, one that isn't exactly becoming of a married woman or a man in the middle of an acrimonious divorce. The chemistry between the two of you is undeniable from the moment you meet, but when the alcohol starts flowing and passions flare, will you be ready to fully plunge yourself into an affair with the handsome star? For those who want their prewar!Cooper a little darker.
🔸 [One-Shots]
☢️ Beggin' For It
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Original Fallout Character (Al)
Commission (18+) / 4.0K
Cooper's made Al mad, so she's decided to give him the cold shoulder. He's willing to beg if it'll make her forgive him, but he's also going to ensure she does some begging of her own...
☢️ Lay It Upon Them
Joshua Graham x Female Original Fallout Character (Penny)
Commission (18+) / 11.9K
After the destruction of New Canaan at the hands of the White Legs, sheltered, headstrong Penny fled to Zion to seek out some of the only other New Canaanites left. However, her burning desire for revenge quickly began to consume her, and her admiration for a certain former Legionary and his push to destroy their foes only added fuel to the fire. Now, the White Legs threaten to destroy her new home, as well. When she overhears plans to send her away for her own safety, her life spirals out of control and she falls even further into the pit of danger that is growing too close to Joshua Graham.
☢️ A Rather Experimental Pit Stop
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Original Fallout Character (Al)
Commission (18+) / 3.9K
While they're holed up in Freeside, resting after completing their most recent bounty-hunting gig, Cooper convinces Al to try out a little Jet. Fun (and some mild guilt) ensues.
☢️ Mutual Aid
Roy Phillips x Female Vault Dweller
One-Shot (18+) / 6.5K
After a failed attempt at diplomacy in trying to get the Warrington Station ghouls into Tenpenny Tower, you agree to help Roy Phillips get them in "his way". However, the ghoul mask alone won't guarantee your safety; you need to smell like a ghoul, too.
Fortunately, Roy is willing to help you out...if you ask nicely.
☢️ A Week's Vacation in Goodsprings, Nevada
Raul Tejada x Female Reader
One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 9.9K
You're injured during a routine trip because you refused to listen to Raul, and he's none too happy about it. However, the down time you take to heal is also the perfect cure for the tension between the two of you.
☢️ Shoot the Moon
Norm MacLean x Female Reader
One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 30.1K
Vault life has never truly agreed with Norm MacLean. A bit of an invisible outcast thanks to his general disposition, the son of Vault 33's Overseer is growing lonesome as he reaches true adulthood. That is, until a transfer of personnel puts him into the path of someone who finally makes him feel seen. Will the expectations of others get in their way? Can Norm find the courage and strength to live the life he wants to live?
☢️ Carnal Lessons
John Hancock x Virgin!Female Reader
One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 20.0K
John's always had a 'thing' for innocence. When he meets you, a runaway vaultie looking for a new place to belong, that 'thing' gets him into far more trouble than he could have ever anticipated.
☢️ As A Dog
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
One-Shot (TBC), Ask Submission (18+) / 7.1K
After an especially tense moment, Cooper's companion decides she can't handle his bullshit. When she changes her mind, though, he decides to make her prove she really is sorry for leaving.
☢️ Grunt Work
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 3.9k
Cooper's favorite vaultie companion is pressing her luck as of late and requires some correction.
☢️ Working Girl
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 5.4k
You knew when you took this job that it wouldn't be easy, but you didn't know you'd be expected to sleep with ghouls.
☢️ Bloodletting
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 2.8k
No one told you menstruation would be such a nightmare in the Wasteland when you left the vault. Fortunately, Cooper can offer some relief.
☢️ Close Quarters
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
One-Shot (TBC), Ask Submission (18+) / 2.4k
Crammed into a tight space and hiding from supposed deathclaws, you and Cooper have some sweaty, silent time to kill. Fortunately, his thigh makes as nice a seat as any.
☢️ Smooth Skin
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 3.1k
Cooper is obsessed with the pristine nature of every little thing about his brand new vaultie companion. When she sleeps, he takes a chance to look closer.
☢️ A Fair Trade
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 3.9k
Taken captive by a man who runs an outpost, things get even hairier for you when your captor can't pay an owed bounty to a particularly intimidating ghoul. Then again, maybe trading hands wouldn't be so bad...
Hi, I've noticed that in your rankings you do include Set and Harold from early FO but not Lenny (possible companion in FO2), is there any specific reason? ((Feel free to ignore it, just got curious about my boi haha!))
I never mind questions about my process on anything, honestly!
The way I do the rankings (and even the way I add characters to the list) has shifted quite a bit since I first started doing them. Initially, I'd only added fan favorites and characters that had been specifically requested for headcanons and such, but now I just have sort of a blanket "most of the ghouls from the games I have personally played" list that also includes a few characters from the titles I haven't played yet.
I haven't quite made it around to playing the first or second games yet, but at least one or two people had asked for Set headcanons, and Harold obviously comes back in the third installment, which I have played. I'm happy to add Lenny to the lists in the future, though. I just have to do a little research on him.
Just gonna drop the phrase "peg squad" in the tags and then leave huh? 🤣
I suppose I did. I was giving you time to meditate on the idea, I guess! For the record, I re-did the ranking list for pegging fairly recently if anyone's curious who else is at the front of the line for the strap/the D.
Hancock has such an attractive voice! So does Edward. Thank you for your service, without your fics I wouldn't have started this wonderful game.
I'm very happy to see that you're enjoying your first romp into Fallout 4, friend. I'm always EXTRA excited to see a new Edward Deegan fan born. I wanna climb him like a big, radioactive tree. That said, I think Danny Shorago gives one of the best vocal performances in the entire game as Hancock. The role has a lot of emotional weight involved, and I think he handles it really masterfully.
Which of the ghouls do you think would tie themselves up as a present under the christmas tree
Or would do that thing where they hold a box over their penis and pretend its totally not their penis for our birthday
Ranking Ghouls' Willingness to Perform Silly, Sexy Gestures
Very much their sort of thing. Does it frequently. Mister Crowley, Hadrian, John Hancock, Mort McCoy, Cooper Howard
Might do it once in a while to be goofy, but it's not a regular move in their repertoire. Harold, Barrett, Quinn, Snowflake, Grecks, Harland, Edward Deegan, Wiseman, Oswald the Outrageous, Gunther Jenkins
Jokes about it as pillow talk, but never really does it. Doctor Barrows, Gob, Patchwork, Roy Phillips, Private Kyle Edwards, Rotface, Dean Domino, Ham, Nick Valentine, Tommy Lonegan, Lucky Lou, The Ghoul, Thaddeus
Not their thing. Set, Ahzrukhal, Charon, Michael Masters, Murphy, Winthrop, Desmond Lockheart, Andy Scabb, Bert Gunnarsson, Jason Bright, Raul Tejada, Joshua Graham, Arlen Glass, Eddie Winter, Kent Connolly, Sinjin, Vault-Tec Rep, Captain Zao
hullo! i know you did a hucow partner post for the ghouls, but i was wondering if you’d be down to talk about what ghouls would have a lactation kink (along the same lines though not as niche/extreme as hucow kinks perhaps?) love this blog a lot and hope you’re doing well!
It feels very interesting to try and imagine what another (fictional) person might think about something like this. Always good for a laugh. Thanks for writing in!
Ranking Ghouls Opinions on Lactation Kink
Very into it, even before the two of you have any discussions about having children or anything. Patchwork, Bert Gunnarsson, Joshua Graham
Has never considered it or been introduced to the idea, but goes crazy for it if you introduce the idea. Ahzrukhal, Gob, Quinn, Private Kyle Edwards, The Ghoul (HAS thought about it, but won't bring it up first), Thaddeus
Has thought about it and would like to try it if the opportunity arises, but isn't obsessed with the idea or anything. Set, Barrett, Charon, Grecks, Edward Deegan, Ham, John Hancock (the idea really turns him on, but he feels guilty actually doing it), Sinjin, Gunther Jenkins, Cooper Howard
Would try it, but it'll never be their number one thing. Harold, Roy Phillips (more likely to do it in moments where he feels very vulnerable/close to you), Andy Scabb, Hadrian, Rotface, Kent Connolly (will be super embarrassed, but still likes it fine), Wiseman
Tries it and isn't all that into it. Murphy, Snowflake, Arlen Glass, Vault-Tec Rep, Oswald the Outrageous
Not for them. Doctor Barrows, Mister Crowley, Michael Masters, Winthrop, Desmond Lockheart, Harland, Jason Bright, Raul Tejada, Dean Domino (could vomit thinking about it), Eddie Winter, Nick Valentine, Tommy Lonegan, Captain Zao, Lucky Lou, Mort McCoy
If you haven't addressed this yet who among the ghouls would be open to being a sugar BABY? Sugar parents need someone to support!
This was much simpler to do than the opposing question, for whatever reason.
Ranking Ghouls' Willingness to Be a Sugar Baby
Spoil them all you want. Will never turn down a gift or an expensive gesture. Ahzrukhal, Mister Crowley, Murphy, Snowflake, Andy Scabb, Grecks, Harland, Private Kyle Edwards, Dean Domino, Thaddeus
Will let you spoil them as long as you let them spoil you, too. Gob, Michael Masters, Hadrian, Edward Deegan, Ham, John Hancock, Tommy Lonegan, Wiseman, Oswald the Outrageous, Gunther Jenkins, Cooper Howard (though good luck finding something to buy him that he doesn't already have)
Is gracious and appreciative when it comes to gifts, but may push back if they think it's too much. Harold, Doctor Barrows, Patchwork, Quinn, Winthrop, Bert Gunnarsson, Rotface, Kent Connolly, Captain Zao, Mort McCoy, The Ghoul
Tends to be fairly uncomfortable with gifts if they aren't very simple ones. Will accept nicer gifts if they're well thought out and infrequent. Barrett, Charon, Roy Phillips, Jason Bright, Raul Tejada, Joshua Graham, Arlen Glass, Nick Valentine, Sinjin, Vault-Tec Rep, Lucky Lou
Not sugar baby material. Set (more of a "submissive gestures" man), Desmond Lockheart, Eddie Winter
Summary: Al and Cooper stumble across an abandoned bunker and take note of the place. Once they decide they're ready for a little vacation, they have nothing but time to enjoy one another.
Notes: Some more (longer) adventures of Coop and Al courtesy of @lipstickghoulie, complete with a lovely piece of art courtesy of (@)GcubedArt on Twitter that I just had to include at the end. Sweet and sappy (and a little silly) this time.
"You didn't seal it forever, did you?"
The minutes were passing by as Cooper yanked and clanged on the door to the shelter they were trying to breach. He'd fucked with the lock mechanism to keep anyone else who might happen to stumble across the entrance from getting inside, but now he was having trouble un-fucking it. The place was submerged, the door rather well-obscured, which made him feel a bit better about his struggle. He could feel Al's sharp eyes on his every move, though, turning the problem over in her head. Fortunately, she didn't have time to come up with a fancy solution before the mechanism finally let loose and the door flung itself open. He held his head up high.
"Told you." he bragged.
"Oh, hush!" she huffed, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly. "Just remember you're going to be stuck in here with me for days."
A wolfish, predatory grin spread openly across his face, his back to her as he guided her inside. She should have known better than to threaten him with a good time. They'd stumbled across the place during a recent bounty hunting expedition, noting its off-beat location and resealing it. After a few more jobs, they'd agreed that it was time for them to take a little vacation.
"Wow, it's way nicer than I remember." she remarked as they entered the main room. The place was rather spacious, the living area a wide circle with an entire wall of arched windows that ran from the floor to the ceiling. At the center was a conversation pit, complete with a decorative table surrounded by two massive, curved couches. Off to the edge was a kitchenette with a nice tile floor and (what he hoped would be) working appliances, a short hallway with a bathroom and bedroom just past that. Al ditched her bags against the wall near the inner door and ran a hand along the back of one of the couches as she wandered by.
"Must have really solid air filtration. Basically no dust." she noted.
"Mm." he grunted in reply, too busy watching the way her hips swayed with her movements to really take in what she'd said. He gave himself a little shake as he closed in behind her, though, listening more attentively. That trick wouldn't work twice in a row.
"It's a little spooky out there!" Al declared, pressing both hands against the clear glass and leaning in to gaze out into the blue haze. All you could make out was the silhouettes of the tall grass and other plant life, gently undulating with the shifting current and licking against the metal carapace around them. Slyly, he slid up behind her and wrapped his long arms around her.
"Aww, you scared, baby? I'll protect you, don't worry." he teased, burying his face in the nape of her neck and taking a deep inhale of her smell. He could already feel himself starting to get hard.
The woman trapped between him and the wall giggled at the ticklish sensation, squirming against him and only contributing to the nascent pressure in his gut. Part of him wanted to start tearing at her clothes, to sandwich her up against the glass and fuck her until she couldn't stand, but he settled for letting himself grope at her breasts over her clothes. They had plenty of time.
"Know what sounds amazing?" she mused, pressing her chest out to lean into his touch. "A shower."
"Mm, that right?"
"It is."
She pivoted in place and looked up at him, that familiar cheekiness all over her face. Cooper grinned and stepped back to let her move freely.
Al made a luxurious show of peeling each and every piece of her armor off, stacking it meticulously on the low table that hugged the wall by the door as she went along. Leaning against the kitchenette's counter, he watched her closely. When she moved into the rather spacious bathroom, making heated eye contact with him as she passed, he followed right on her heels. He dragged one of the chairs from the dining table along with him.
"What's that?" she asked, half-chuckling as she gripped at the hem of her well-worn shirt.
He sat the thing down with a flourish, turning it on one of the legs before lowering himself with a little pizzazz.
"My seat for the show, of course," he replied.
Al chuckled at his statement, peeling the garment over her head. Even more slowly than she'd shed her armor, she lost article after article of her clothing, saving her underthings for last. Teasing, she left the things on while she fiddled with the taps, testing the temperature of the water more than once before letting the flow move through the shower head.
At last, she tugged off the last of what covered her, exposing her soft, scar-dotted body to his hungry eyes. Biting her lip at him as she moved past, she let her hand skim across his shoulder before stepping under the steaming spray. She left the glass door open so that he could see properly into the stall.
"Hmm." his companion sighed, turning her face up towards the water. Her fingers wound their way into her bi-colored hair, scratching at her scalp and seemingly forgetting he was there for a split second. Cooper smiled, soft and to himself; she did love a good shower.
"You should get in here with me." Al beckoned, reaching her elegant hand out towards him. "It feels so good."
"Maybe one day." he grinned back, hiding his apprehension at the topic as best as he could. She'd seen him naked a handful of times, but the exposure hadn’t gotten any easier for him so far. A fair-sized chunk of him wondered if it ever would. Maybe one day he'd feel able to at least take off his shirt without it feeling like some sort of humiliation ritual.
Though he seemed rather incapable of blushing, his whole face still felt hot at the thought as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror.
Kicking his long legs out in front of him, he crossed his arms across his chest and tried to look coolly detached as he continued to watch Al rinse the more frank outside debris from her hair. When she finished with that, she reached for the little soap that sat on the ledge.
"Sure you won't join me?" she asked again, tearing into the wrapper.
"Not sure I trust myself to behave if I come in there." he smirked, tilting his chin up towards her.
"Suit yourself." she said, balling up the waxed paper and tossing it at him. He caught it without taking his eyes off of her, earning him an impressed nod. Maintaining that eye contact, she worked the bar between her palms until a lather built there, tracing the bubbles across her skin, where they lingered. Predictably, she paid extra attention to the spots she knew he liked the most as she washed herself, those hands lingering around her breasts, rubbing at her nipples, tracing her palms over the swell of her hips where he liked to dig his teeth in sometimes. Cooper chewed at the inside of his cheek.
"Enjoying yourself?" Al asked cockily after a few minutes, her soft eyes tracing down his torso and landing between his legs, where his erection stood clearly against his leg.
"Mhm." he replied simply, letting his hand trace over the bulge and hissing through his worn teeth when he made contact. He could hear his lover let out a soft, lusty sigh, one of her own hands disappearing between her thighs, obscured from his view by the angle. Her eyes drifted shut as she began to touch herself. By the time she'd opened them again at the sound of Cooper's chair legs squeaking across the floor, he was standing over her with his hands on the knobs.
"Show's over." he said gruffly, eyeing her hungrily as he shut the water off.
"Oh yeah?" she blustered, barely hiding her grin as she held her chin high and squared her shoulders.
He leaned down until their faces were at an even height, only a few inches between his mouth and hers. That certain twinkle of mischief in her eye, the one that had always made her seem unique to him, was glittering brightly.
"Mhmm." he hummed before closing the distance between them, enveloping her in a kiss that immediately turned hungry. Al, despite her teasing, welcomed him eagerly, her tongue searching for his as she gripped the collar of his shirt and tugged him even closer, pressing her wet skin against him. Pursuing more of the sweet taste of her, he stepped forward until she was completely crowded against the shower wall.
"Ooh! Cold! Cold tile!" she gasped, her hands splayed across his chest.
With a chuckle, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his hips. Giggling with surprise, she squirmed, arching her back so that her chest was pushed even further into his face. He chuckled into the side of her throat as he whipped her around, only wobbling a bit as he made for the bathroom door, leaving a dripping trail in his wake. Navigating his way into the bedroom proved to be more of a coordination challenge, his knees feeling weak when she nuzzled her face against him and traced her hot, wet little tongue along the leathery skin of his throat.
Al's whole body was still dripping from the shower when he dropped her onto the bed, the springs of the mattress bouncing her and her ample assets as her weight fell.
"Took you long enough." she tittered, eyeing him hard as he loomed over her. "Figured I wouldn't have made it into the shower."
Cooper gave a very calculated casual shrug as he pulled his hat from his head and tossed it onto the closest bedside table.
"All good things to those who wait, Al." he said, all cheek as he leaned in to drag his lips across the impossibly soft skin in the valley between her bare breasts. She let out a deep, contented sigh as she cradled his bald head.
It had been too long since they'd been able to take their time and really, truly enjoy one another. Nothing but quickies and longing out on the road the vast majority of the time, something that was becoming harder to contend with the longer they were together. It was the intimacy, not just the sex. She obviously felt it, too, that magnetic need for closeness, working a few of the middle buttons open on his shirt and sinking her hand inside to run her nimble hands along his bare skin. The contact made him shudder hard.
Turning his head, he wrapped his thin lips around her already hard nipple, drinking in her squeal as he bathed it with his tongue. Her skin tasted very faintly of the bar of soap, and the approving hum she let out as she squirmed under him made his core tight. His tongue led him up her chest and into the curve of her elegant throat.
Al was teasing his chest with her hand, playing along his flank and making him squirm against her. She untucked the front of his shirt from the inside before extracting herself, her grip jumping down to tug the tongue of his belt free. A shiver broke down his spine when she brushed against his growing bulge.
Cooper's hand jumped down between her thighs as she began to work him free of his trousers, slipping through the already obscene wetness that had very little to do with the shower she'd taken. He drew slow, arcing circles around her hard bud, smirking when her hips bucked hard.
"God, baby. I need you." she breathed, pulling hard at the lapels of his shirt to encourage him upwards. He followed her lead with perfect ease, slotting his hips firmly between her thighs and rutting against her mound mindlessly. Their tongues were deeply intertwined when he finally found the right angle and began to sink inside her slick warmth, and they sighed into one another's mouths, both taking a long pause to drink in the feeling.
"Oh." she hummed when he began to move, withdrawing about halfway before re-sheathing himself again.
"Fuck." he snarled, every inch of her like hot silk around him. His gut was already tight, and he gritted his teeth in frustration.
Al moaned something in reply, but she, too, was quickly lost in the pleasure they found in one another, and it rendered her words unintelligible. Adjusting her legs so they were more wrapped around his waist, Cooper planted his feet more firmly on the floor to give him additional leverage. The bed frame squeaked persistently as he moved hard against her. He snagged her lower lip between his teeth before kissing her again.
It was all too much. Between Al's noises, the sweet, musky smell of her arousal, and the view of her naked body blunting the force of his thrusts, Cooper's core was like a fist, and the way she whimpered his name when he leaned in to suck at her neck again pushed him over the edge. He whined pitifully, his fingers back on her clit as he desperately tried to bring her to the edge with him.
He beat her by almost a full minute, hips stuttering, groaning unabashedly, but his hand didn't stop moving against her until he felt her break into a sudden wave of spasms, too, clinging to him tightly as she did. They laid there, a panting heap draped the wrong way across the mattress, wrapped up in one another's arms. Al's nails scratched soothingly at the nape of his neck.
"Aww, you're cute like this." she cooed, cupping his face with her hands and peppering it with impossibly gentle kisses. His heart fluttered and ached.
"Well, it's not my favorite thing..." he said, half-joking as he pivoted off of her and onto his back, feet flat against the floor as he righted his fly. Al followed his lead, rolling onto her hip to face him. Her still-damp hair clung wildly to her face and neck, her lip swollen from the bite. A pink tinge still clung to her cheeks as she seemed to look him over, too.
"Gimme a sec." he said, reluctantly pulling himself up to his feet. Though she shot him a silly look, she flopped back to her side and watched him go, plenty familiar with his routine by now. He'd never been one to leave his partner untidied after the festivities were concluded. Usually, he'd use whatever was handy, but he figured he'd take advantage of the bathroom while he had access to it, wetting a rag with warm water and returning to her side.
"Ah," she sighed pleasantly, eyes closed as he set about cleaning his mess from her mound and inner thighs. Some of it peeked from between her folds, dribbling from her puffy entrance. He swiped there with the cloth, too, lingering against her most sensitive place. When he was finished, he discarded the thing beside his hat and resumed his place next to her, this time laying the right way.
"You remember the first time?" she asked, snuggling up against him and resting her chin against his shoulder.
Cooper let out an only slightly awkward chuckle, running a bare palm down his face.
"Well, of course." he replied, managing to stop the grimace that wanted to distort his mouth. "How could I forget a performance like that?"
"I mean, I don't usually like to toot my own horn..." she smirked, pulling herself up to sit on top of him, strong thighs straddling his hips. She ran her hand along the slit in his shirt he'd forgotten was still open.
He snickered, grabbing at her hip and giving her a careful, playful shake.
"On my part, I mean."
The response earned a rich chuckle from her, and she leaned down to kiss him on the forehead.
"I had no complaints then and offer none now." she said, matter-of-fact.
The first time they'd been together physically had been a flurry of emotions, desire and unrequited love and grief all rolling together to overwhelm them both until they had no other option but to fall into one another's arms. True, he'd probably have chosen a location other than his dingy storage place in Freeside for their inaugural intimate moment if he had known ahead of time, but he wouldn't go back and change anything. It had been perfect, handful of tears and stumbling declarations of love and all, even if Cooper had only lasted three strokes before exploding everywhere.
Not being touched for over two centuries didn't exactly do wonders for one's stamina, he'd learned. Granted, he'd always suspected so.
Thesis confirmed.
"You make things very difficult." he smirked, leaning in to kiss her on the crown of her head. She leaned up to peck him on the side of his jaw in return.
"I thought it was sweet." she sighed. “I think it is sweet.”
She fiddled with the buttons on his shirt for a moment before she set to marrying them to their closures. Cooper kept his poker face steady and didn't move as she did so, despite the goosebumps that appeared all over him. Whether she was undressing or re-dressing him, it always felt like one of the more intimate experiences he'd had in this life, and it left his gut tight and his face hot-feeling.
They snuggled together, bathing in the afterglow and swapping kisses, until Al's breathing grew slow and she moved to lay beside him again. His heavy-eyed lover grew silent and dozed off after a half-hour or so of them clinging to one another. He didn't expect for her to be out long, since it was still somewhat early in the day, and so found it nearly impossible to resist his usual urge to settle in and watch her for a bit. Even before the bombs, he'd sometimes been tempted to steal glances at her when she wasn't looking, and when they'd been reunited for the first time in centuries, he'd let himself take deep, long looks at her as she slept and he kept watch. The habit had never really left him the closer they'd become.
With time, she'd become more desensitized to being touched or jostled, but the odds were still iffy, so he settled for brushing a few strands of hair out of her face when he wanted to touch her cheek. After another half-hour of silently admiring her, watching her chest rise and fall with her slow breathing, he carefully extracted himself. Maybe later he'd catch a few winks himself.
Maybe. Probably not.
He moved back into the main space as quietly as he could manage, drinking the place in again with refreshed eyes. Nothing had changed since they'd settled in, no signs of disturbance or surveillance. Searching through his bag, he pulled out a Jet container and his inhaler and took a long drag from both. Tucking the inhaler away, he turned its red counterpart over in his hand, studying it with desire. The temptation to take a second hit was great, but after another moment he tucked it away, too. She'd be sore at him if he got too fucked up, and he didn't want to ruin their trip.
Having a rummage through the cabinets, he was fairly shocked to find a decent amount of food stocked away. Seemed more and more that maybe this place really had been sealed since the bombs had fallen. Anyone with more than two brain cells to rub together would have taken as much as they could.
The layout of the handful of basic cooking accouterments scattered about was a bit unintuitive, so it took him a bit longer to get started than he'd intended, but just a few minutes later, he was making progress. There were only three total pans, but the cast iron he'd found would do just fine for the task at hand. He left it heating on the burner as he popped the top off of a can of Cram and let it thunk down onto the counter top.
A contemplative sigh left his lips as he gave the pink mass a poke. Maybe when she slept for real, he'd slip up to the surface for a bit and try hunting up something fresher for their next main course. It had been hard enough to get her to start eating the stuff again after she’d apparently gotten a nasty spate of food poisoning from it before they’d run into one another again, and he didn’t want to overplay his hand with it.
He decided his hunting knife, which had been contaminated a thousand times over in more ways than he cared to recall, could sit this one out. Still, he spent a minute sharpening the regular kitchen knife he found in the drawer, unhappy with the edge. When he was finished, he sliced the greasy canned meat into thick slices and laid them in the hot pan. They sizzled beautifully, making his stomach gurgle in intrigue. He let the pieces sear as he dug out a box of Insta-Mash and some Dandy Boys. There were cans of pork and beans alongside, but that was her go-to "roughin' it" meal when they were out on the road, and he worried she might've grown tired of it. In a lower cabinet was a meager spice collection, and though he sort of doubted that any of the ancient powders would impart any actual flavor, he added some black pepper to the pot anyway.
The dried, overly-sweet apple slices thunked dully against the metal walls of the other sauce pan as he poured them in, adding just enough water to cover and reconstitute them. He flipped the Cram slices. The smell enveloped him in a deep sense of nostalgia, and for a moment, he was reminded of all the times he'd gotten up early, bleary-eyed and spilling coffee all over himself, to make Janey breakfast before school. His chest felt as if it might suddenly cave in as he was pulled into the heavy gravity of his own sadness.
"Smells good." came a voice from behind him. His eyes jumped down to the pan to be sure that he hadn't spaced out for too long and ruined the food.
Bare feet slapped against the tile of the kitchenette as Al closed in behind him, peeking around his side to see what he was doing. Her warmth seeped into his back when she wrapped her arms around him. Cooper let out a hum.
"Hungry?" he asked, a touch more melancholic than he'd intended.
"Starving." she confirmed, nodding. She moved to lean against the counter, facing towards him. The only item of clothing she'd put back on was her panties, and his eyes lingered for a moment on her bare torso. Cooper studied her sleepy face, the slightly reddened spot on the side of her face where her arm had been touching it and her mussed hair, and smiled.
"Good." he said, reaching out with his free hand and giving her cheek an affectionate caress. The touch seemed to warm his face as much as her own.
She pointed into the cast iron.
"Not charred enough." she said, all confidence.
Cooper pursed his meager lips at her, brows low in doubt.
"Pretty sure I've been frying Cram since before you were even a twinkle in your daddy's eye." he tutted, swatting at her hand lightly. "Don't think I need your correction."
"I'm just saying!" she argued. "Cram needs char."
"And I'm just saying you should go sit your little ass at the table." he grumbled, though good-naturedly. She stared at him for a hard moment before sucking her teeth, head high in mock-haughtiness when she pushed herself off the counter and went to sit. He gave her a frisky tap on the ass as she went by.
Giving the sticky mass of softening apples a stir, he shook in a little cinnamon from the spice collection. There was no lid for the saucepan in sight, so he used one of the handful of plates in its stead to keep their dessert warm.
"How was your nap?" he inquired, turning the slices over again.
"Oh, like you weren't watching." she grinned, running her fingers through her hair.
He shrugged, waving the spatula in his hand around.
"Not the entire time," he insisted. "I've been in here slaving over a hot stove, after all."
She snorted a laugh.
"Well, let me know if you need any help, particularly getting down off that cross."
He shot her a pinch-faced look over his shoulder, but her cheeky grin was impossible to be irritated at. He bit his tongue and went back to his task. When he pulled two more plates out of the cabinet, she shot upwards and wedged herself between him and the cabinet door.
"Look, I'm not complaining about the uniform, but you're supposed to be at the table." he said, reaching out to give her nipple a light tweak.
"Sit down!" she said, pinching his chest through his shirt in the neighborhood of where his own left nipple had once been. "You cooked, I can serve."
Knowing the battle was lost long before he'd ever started cooking, he smirked and folded himself into the other chair. Even if he'd had a mind to insist, he'd be a fool to turn down a view like the one he was drinking in. She moved, agile and focused, from cabinet to cabinet, searching for what she needed. Something about the way she lovingly prepared both of their plates warmed his chest. Giving him a passing kiss on the top of the head, she sat the plate down with a gentle thud.
His stomach snarled at the smell of the food in front of him. Al seemed excited to tuck in despite the entree, studying each item with enthusiasm. Cooper waited for her to start first, pushing some of the Insta-Mash around with the tip of his fork. She grabbed up one of the more intact apple slices and flipped it into her mouth.
"Pretty sure you're supposed to eat your actual meal first. Dessert comes second." he teased. She stuck her nose high in the air and ate another. It made him grin.
Very deliberately, he started in on his own meal. Every bite was measured, far more energy dedicated to maintaining an even pace than the actual eating itself. Early on in their relationship, he'd had no care for how Al saw him when it came to matters of cordiality, but once he started wanting to win her favor, he decided to rein in the unhinged way he would scarf down whatever you put in front of him. It had been more of a challenge than he'd initially anticipated.
Once you'd known true hunger, your relationship with food was never the same.
"Thanks for cooking." she said, cutting into her Cram. The processed meat slices were blackened around the edges, more done than he would have liked them in his previous life. Now, the things could be charcoal and he'd savor them in most situations.
"Mhm." he replied, tracking the morsel from plate to mouth and letting out a quiet sigh as he watched her lips wrap around it. "Think while you snooze I'll see about something better to eat. Some meat that doesn't come in a can."
She shot him a look, mouth still too full to complain.
"Don't pretend you're gonna want to eat Cram all week. I won't go far." he promised.
As she chewed, her eyes swept up and down his body in playful skepticism.
"Hm. I suppose I'll allow it." she said with a very diplomatic tone. "Do you even know what you can hunt around here?"
He shrugged, very slowly working his way through a bit of apple.
"You know me. I love a good surprise." he shrugged.
She nodded, laughing as she seemed to size him up all of the sudden.
"That's good to hear, actually. I have surprises of my own." she said cryptically, leaning in conspiratorially
He crooked a non-existent brow.
"Yeah?"
She nodded, clearly struggling to keep the Cheshire grin that tickled at the corners of her mouth from spreading.
"You planning to share those surprises?" he inquired, leaning in and placing his chin on his curled fingers.
She shrugged, tossing the pale side of her hair over her shoulder.
"All good things to those who wait, Coop."
He wanted to roll his eyes at the turnabout, but he knew it wouldn't do him any good.
Once they'd finished up their meal, they stood side-by-side at the sink and did the small handful of dishes together, Al washing and Cooper drying. The two spent some time squabbling playfully about what they'd do with the rest of their evening, debating a few options. There was a television in the media cabinet against the furthest wall that seemed to work, but watching old movies never failed to wash him in feelings he didn't necessarily want to have. There were also a few games, a chessboard and some playing cards, among other things, so they spent a while entertaining one another. Al was much better at chess, Cooper at cards.
"You need to develop your knights better early in the game." she remarked as she checkmated him yet again. "You put too much stock in your more powerful pieces."
"Thanks, coach." he huffed, ever the sore loser as he tipped his king over.
Al giggled at his pouty expression, the laugh breaking into a yawn about halfway through.
"Somebody's beat." he observed.
She blew a raspberry at him, rubbing her eyes.
"You're beat." she shot back.
The reply made him laugh, full-chested and genuine, and he grinned at her as he began cleaning up the board.
"Really got me there, tiger." he said, standing and rolling his shoulders. "Let's get you to bed, hmm?"
Despite her evident fatigue, she still had enough energy to play stubborn, flopping down onto the couch like a dead fish.
"Make me."
Sucking his teeth, Cooper crossed his arms, hip jutting as he shifted his weight onto one leg.
"Yeah?" he asked, looming over her.
She made hard eye contact with him, pursing her lips to keep from grinning.
"Yes."
He stooped down instantly, striking at her so fast she shrieked and batted at him when he caged her in, his body hovering above hers as she broke into a laugh. They shared a few pecks, playful and quick, before he wrapped his arms around her and hauled her up into them again. She accepted her fate, wrapping her own around his neck to steady herself as he carried her back to the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he watched her strip down to her skivvies and unclasp her Pip-Boy from her arm before tunneling beneath the comforter. With one eye cracked open, she patted the spot beside her. His heart never failed to race for a breath when he cuddled up beside her.
It took longer for her to really settle in than he'd expected. As always, she pressed her face to his sternum and spooned herself up along him, soaking up his body heat and covering him in her smell. He found it even more difficult, the thought of pulling away, too enraptured by how sweet she was like this. Much like himself, Al had a tough outer shell that kept the more tender parts of her safe, and it could be read on her face quite easily. She had worries, fears, bad memories of the past that gave her sweaty, trembling nightmares, and sometimes you could see that, too. But when she slept, her expression was nothing but carefree softness.
Extracting himself was a slow process, but she didn't stir even once, so he considered it a major victory. Extra quiet, he pulled his boots back on and gathered up his bag and gun. There was a little "while you were out" memo pad stuck to the refrigerator, complete with a pencil, and he stooped over the dining table, scratching out a message on the paper.
If you're reading this, you should be asleep. Back soon.
He crept silently across the bedroom, hyper-aware of every single sound the floor made underfoot, until he reached the side table where her Pip-Boy sat, the screen dark. The note he'd written leaned up against it nicely, and he turned to make his way back towards the door. For a minute or two, he lingered in the doorway, watching her sleep peacefully. It was unnecessarily difficult for him to close the door behind him and head out into the night.
After triple-checking that the door was both properly locked and obscured behind some long vines that grew around it, he felt comfortable enough to leave his sleeping wife alone for a time. He didn't immediately leave the vicinity of the bunker, though, checking the less-traveled area for tracks, scat, any other signs of game; it was more difficult than usual in the dark, the moonlight largely obscured behind the heavy cloud cover. The clues were few, but there were enough tracks that seemed radstag-sized to make him optimistic. He pulled another hit off of his Jet container before heading uphill, away from the bunker and the water that hugged it.
It was a quiet night, but the sort of quiet that might have actually been peaceful instead of simply being the lull before some sort of storm. That made him distrustful, and he pulled himself up into one of the few trees around that still had some foliage, watching the nearby road for a while. Wired from the Jet and on-edge at being away from Al, he could hear smaller creatures rustling through the dry underbrush. Tuning his ears further out, he swore he could hear human voices. Tucking himself into a tighter ball to hide himself more, he pulled his gun from its holster and kept his eye on the path.
His ears had been correct, it turned out, but his sense of worry remained unsubstantiated. A small party did appear on the horizon, but he could tell from first inspection that they were no threat. Well, they had no intention of being a threat, that is.
It seemed to be a small family—man, woman, child of about ten, if he had to guess. He didn't recognize them, but they must have been of some means, as they were surrounded by three separate hired guards. They must've also been in some sort of distress, as traveling by road at night wasn't the smartest of ideas when you didn't have your child with you. He could see the anxiety in their movements, in the way they both kept their son huddled between them as they moved along. Something about the sight made his chest feel heavy, and he chased the unpleasant sensation away with another hit from the Jet canister once they'd disappeared over the horizon.
He kept posted a while longer, until the very earliest tones of early twilight began to color the sky. Having seen no signs of larger game, he decided to make his way back down towards the bunker, making a wide arch along the treeline and crouching low, ears peeled for movement. By the time he'd reached the water's edge, he was starting to become frustrated. He wouldn't return empty handed; that wouldn't happen.
Taking a moment to reformulate his plan, he leaned against one of the rocks that jutted out of the ground along the shore, digging around in his satchel until he found a beat-up pack of smokes and jammed one between his lips aggressively. His lighter fought him when he tried to strike it, and he growled in frustration, very nearly hucking the thing before it finally lit and the paper caught fire.
"Ugh." he sighed as he exhaled, a small plume of smoke floating from his mouth. As he thought over his next steps, he held the smoldering thing low so the glowing cherry wouldn't be so visible. The second puff relaxed him even more, and he managed to soothe himself out of the annoyance he'd begun to feel creeping up his spine.
Only a moment later, the patch of mud beside him seemed to explode.
Mirelurks had a tendency to partially submerge their bodies and lie in wait for food to come along, and this one seemed to think he seemed like a suitable dinner. At the sudden movement, he'd thrown himself backwards, scrambling into a defensive stance as quickly as he could. His cigarette fell from his grip and disappeared into the muck. It wasn't the biggest 'lurk he'd ever seen, maybe a foot taller than him and wide as his arms could reach, but it was rather swift as it scuttled towards him, swinging those massive pincers and hissing ferociously.
For all its theatrics, though, the thing didn't put up all that much of a fight, falling after only a few shots, but the surprise of it all left Cooper sat on the ground, taking a moment to catch his breath. The thing occasionally twitched as the life drained out of it, slumped half in the grass, half in the mud. It would provide quite a bit of food, at least.
Once he'd steadied himself, he stood again, searching through the grass until he found a stone that was large while still being small enough to hold in his hand.
"I wasn't done with my smoke, asshole." he mumbled before striking the thing hard, repeating the harsh motion again and again until the hard exoskeleton cracked open. Much like a lobster, the insides weren't especially tasty-looking, but they made for surprisingly good eating. Cooked softshell meat was pretty healthy for you, too, all things considered.
Running a bit behind schedule, he knelt and slashed off as many fist-sized chunks of the exposed white flesh as he could and wrapped them up into a bundle, cradling the thing in the crook of his arm as he hurried back towards the hidden base. The sky was starting to shift, the earliest birds beginning to call.
He ditched his boots just inside the armored door, leaving the mud-caked things behind to dry so they'd be easier to take care of later. Still, he was very conscious of just how much filth was hanging onto him, distracted as he gave the meat a haphazard rinse in the sink. Piling as much as he could into the biggest bowl from the cabinet, he put the stuff away in the fridge. There were a few chunks left over. He shrugged before tossing them, unshielded, into the empty freezer.
Wasn't his kitchen.
His latest task complete, he removed his coat and hat before moving into the bathroom, fast and soft-footed as he could, not even bothering with the light as he doused a rag and set to cleaning himself up. Perfection wasn't necessary, he knew, but he'd never hear the end of it if he tracked a bunch of mud into the perfectly clean bed she intended to keep using. Working quickly, it didn't take him long to reach a more acceptable state.
It was only once he left the bathroom that he realized the bedroom door was open, the bed empty. He wasn't sure if it had been occupied when he'd gone to clean himself up.
"Al, honey?" he called, turning to walk back to the main area. "What time did you—"
It wasn't entirely clear whether Cooper's senses were getting a bit duller in his old age, or if Al was simply getting much better at sneaking around in enclosed spaces, but what was clear was the come-hither look in her eye as she stared at him from the conversation pit, spread out across the furthest couch.
He cocked his head, taking in the scene and steadily moving closer.
"What's going on here?" he inquired.
She pulled herself up to a sitting position, her hair falling into her face. She was all clean again, he could smell it despite the several steps of space that remained between them.
"I may have set an alarm after you said you'd be leaving. What do you think?" she asked as she rose, sticking her arms out and doing a little twirl.
The lingerie she wore was unique, a plain red bra and panty set covered with a second, almost entirely sheer layer. The top was cropped just beneath her breasts, a long, but thin bow between them, but it had flouncy sleeves that went all the way down to the elbow. The bottoms were short in the leg, but high-waisted, the hems of both making a playful, wavy frame around the strip of her exposed midriff. The whole thing was made of a red mesh, decorated with tiny pink hearts.
Cooper's brows were glued as high up on his forehead as they would go as he sat in the very last spot on the opposite couch, very deliberately eyeballing her as he drank in the glamour of her. When he crooked his finger at her, she danced closer, doing a little pirouette in front of him. He stopped her when she was faced away, grabbing at the edge of the top.
"It's beautiful, sweetheart." he said. "Looks amazing on you."
"Don't look inside." she warned as he appraised the garment's smaller details. "I had to try and take the top in a bit and the stitches look like garbage."
The image of her working away with a sewing needle and thread made him chuckle warmly. She wasn't exactly a homemaker, so he was rather impressed with her commitment. He wondered exactly when she'd had time to secret this little project away.
"I'm impressed with how intact it is." he remarked, rolling the mesh in his fingers. "Color's still rich and everything."
"I know." she agreed, giving the hem of the shorts a tug. "It was still in the very crushed box, but I was surprised at how strong the fabric is, regardless."
"Where'd you find it?"
"You remember that galleria we had a wander through a few months back?" she asked, shaking her hair out and fluffing it as she turned to face him again.
"Oh yeah." he recalled. "The one with the big moldy fountain and all the wolves living in the department store."
"Well, turns out that wolves don't have much use for lingerie."
Smirking, he patted his thigh, not breaking eye contact as she made her way to him and settled into his lap. Her face was a little pink, as well as the tips of her ears, and he leaned in to give her a careful, sweet kiss. But when he pulled back, he found himself doing that thing again, that thing where his old life bled into his new life right before his eyes. He recalled that Barb had owned a set sort of like it when they were first married. Young Barb had been so embarrassed to buy anything of an intimate nature that she struggled to even purchase a plain brassiere by herself, and it had been a big gesture from her to acquire it for their anniversary. Again, that nostalgic melancholy pricked at him.
Al leaned in and began to kiss him again, and he let her lead the pace and intensity of the way they melded their mouths together, letting himself get lost in her. She knew how often he thought of the past, of what sort of answers the future might hold, and she'd developed a good sense of how to lead him back to a place of peace. Her fingers intertwined with his, squeezing his hand until the other wound around her waist, his tongue pushing deeper into her mouth.
The few times she'd worn lingerie for him before, he'd torn through it without a second thought, far too turned on to bother minding the delicate garments. True, Al always complained, but she was also undeniably turned on by just how passionate he could become with the right prompting, so she'd never really gotten onto him too harshly for it. This, he sensed, might be different.
He was exceedingly careful as he peeled the thin top over her head, tossing it aside so it would be clear from the action. She smiled approvingly, seemingly at both his actions and his turn in demeanor, standing again and allowing him to tug the shorts off, too, leaving them puddled around her ankles as she stood before him in just the under layer. But when he reached out for her again, she dodged his grip, wandering her way over to the glass wall once more, bare palms against the smooth, shiny surface.
"You know, it is kind of neat." she remarked, looking out into the water.
"Oh?" he replied as he sauntered her way, readjusting himself. "Doesn't look any less creepy to me."
She bent backwards until she could see his face, her own upside down as she beamed.
"Mm. Maybe the good company has changed my mind."
He reached out and undid the hook on the back of the bra, encouraging the straps down her arms until it hit the floor.
"Glad to hear it."
He crowded up close behind her, hands tracing along her sides and leaving her pressed between him and the cool glass. It was so strange to feel her bare back pressed against his own bare chest, skin-to-skin contact still almost entirely foreign to him in this life. She peeked up at him, chewing coyly at her lip. Ever so subtly, she stuck her ass out, letting it jut towards him until they made contact. He pulled her against him much more aggressively this time, tugging on her panties until they joined their mate and frotting his already-aching cock into the cleft of her ass.
"Mm." she hummed, pressing back against him. He brought his arms around her, cupping her breasts and tugging at her nipples, but rather rapidly he'd crowded so close to her that she was fully sandwiched between him and the glass. Nipping and sucking at the back of her neck, it wasn't long until he'd left a purple-green bruise there. One of his hands steadied himself against the cool surface, the other jumping down to her clit and letting a hiss slip at just how wet she already was. She practically purred at the contact from his calloused fingers, trembling deliciously as she pushed even harder back against his hips. The tip of him just barely teased at her entrance as he let it drag through her folds, both of them swaying together as the heat built between them.
"Time to go back to bed?" she teased, voice breathy. She reached between her legs to rub at him as he slid back and forth.
"Not even." he replied, moving his grip to her hips, sinking his fingers into the plushness to hold her still. As he sunk inside her again, the beautiful music of her airy, surprised moan filling the air, he wondered how many other surfaces they'd defile before the week was out.
Pairing: Travis Miles (FO4) x Female Original Fallout Character ("Quill")
Word Count: 4,423
Warnings: smut (18+), terrible awkward flirtation, masturbation (male and female), sexual fantasies, premature ejaculation, mild cum play, very mild angst.
Summary: Quill's grown rather attached to Diamond City Radio and its DJ, Travis Miles, ever since she was run out of her home Vault. Her admiration has moved her to start writing him fan letters, which he treasures and fixates on. When the two accidentally meet face-to-face, they can't stop thinking about one another.
Notes: Big thanks to @strawberrymilkcan for giving me a chance to take a longer look at Travis as a character! I love an awkward, pent-up little homebody man, and he really fits the profile.
"Socrates, open the window. It is just sweltering in here."
Quill was trying to cool herself with a makeshift fan she'd fashioned from the side of a Sugar Bombs box, but the small draft it generated left her sweating through her shirt.
"Right away, ma'am. These Boston summers are quite trying." the Mister Handy agreed, hovering quickly to crack open the mostly-boarded window to let in some of the breeze that rattled trash across the alley below. Immediately, she sighed with relief.
"Thank you." the former Vault-dweller reminded herself to say, though a moment or two too late. As she finished wiping down the dining table, she reached out to turn up the volume on the radio that sat on it, a boisterous, jazzy tune filling the house. Her hips moved with the beat as she discarded the rag she'd been using and fetched the broom. The place hadn't been properly sealed against the wind since long before she'd moved in, and every day felt like a constant battle against accumulating dust that seemed to come out of nowhere. Sweeping with only one full arm took much longer, but a clean home made her happy.
"Hope you all, ah, enjoyed that new jazz piece I found. I broke what I was originally gonna play." he said, sheepish-sounding as ever. The sound of it made her smile, and she let herself settle down into one of the dining chairs to listen to him speak.
"And, uhm now for a little segment I've been...doing lately." he went on after a slightly-too-long pause. "A very nice fan has been sending me some letters. Well, I guess it might be, uh, a bit much to presume she's a fan."
Ever since Quill had left her Vault, she'd been more than a bit enamored with the Diamond City Radio station and its disc jockey, Travis Miles. He was quiet, awkward, and seemed almost painfully shy, and she thought it was sweet. The music itself had proven to be a great source of both comfort and entertainment for her.
"Anyway," he went on, "I'm gonna read her latest one. If you guys don't want me to, I guess you can speak up."
She laughed.
"Dear Travis," he began. "I hope this most recent letter finds you well. I enjoyed Monday's show even more than usual. You are so right about Nat King Cole. He truly is an amazing talent, one of the best, and I get really excited any time you play something of his. I grew—oh, whoops, hold on. I dropped it."
There was a short break and the sound of some scrambling, some things knocking together. A thump.
"Ow. Heh, sorry folks." he said. "Where was I? Oh. I grew up in a Vault, and we had the same collection of one-hundred and forty-two records in the recreation room my whole life. Not to get too personal, but the first time I'd heard a new song since I was a child was when I stumbled upon your station. It was 'Orange Colored Sky', and there was something about it that was just so beautiful that I cried."
She could feel her face warm, crossing her arm under her and resting her chin in her palm.
"Thankfully, I can listen to it now without any tears...most of the time. It's still one of my most cherished memories, though, and I wanted to make sure I thanked you properly for it. Excited for new Silver Shroud. Until next time, Quinn."
She frowned, her brows knitting together in confusion. Who the hell was Quinn? Did he think her name was Quinn?
The man cleared his throat, audibly shifting in his chair.
"Well, Nat King Cole really is, um, the best. You know? Anyway, I hope you're listening out there, Quinn. I'm gonna dig 'Orange Colored Sky' out just for you, so keep, uh, listening. If you want, that is." Travis said. "In the meantime, Roy Brown did...well, he did two songs about Butcher Pete. Here's the second one."
She turned the volume back down as the next song started to play, a knot of tangled, excited snakes wriggling themselves into a ball in her stomach. Every time he read one of her letters, she got the same tingly thrill, and this time was no different...even if she found herself a touch annoyed that he’d read her name wrong.
"Bring me paper and a pen," she called to Socrates.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, dropping the things in front of her almost instantaneously. The pen clattered across the tabletop, and she caught it easily.
"Be honest with me, Soc: do my L’s somehow look like N’s?" she fretted.
"Your penmanship is impeccable, ma'am. I can find no flaws with it," her robotic companion responded as he continued to hover beside her. "Perhaps Mister Travis just has bad eyes."
"Maybe. I guess we'll find out." she shrugged, giving the ballpoint a couple of shakes before putting the tip to the paper.
Dear Travis...
---
Travis' back was really starting to kill him. Day after day of sitting in this rickety chair, hunched over the microphone that sat at chin-level was starting to wear on him physically. He silently chastised himself about his posture as he straightened up, adjusting his jacket over his shoulders as his lips hovered over the faded old mic.
"Now let's, uhh...let's hear a really good song by Bob Crosby." he announced, fingers poised to hit the buttons to silence himself as the track began. As the horns began to blow, he rose to his feet and stretched his arms over his head. There was just barely enough room for him to do so. The tiny trailer he broadcast the show out of had no windows and was jammed half-full of the various equipment he needed, but it felt like more than enough to him.
After a deep breath of the stale air, he decided he'd pop outside and get his vitamin D dosage for the day while the small lineup he'd set played out. Shucking his outer layer, he draped the patched jacket over his chair before pushing the door open.
It was later in the day than he'd expected, past noon if the long shadows the few outbuildings around him cast were any indication. He needed to wind his clock, apparently. The thought immediately left his mind, however, when he caught sight of a Mister Handy unit floating down the final bit of the walkway that led from the ground up into his trailer. He turned his head and found another folded letter stuck beside the doorway.
"H-Hey!" he called, grabbing the thing up.
"Oh, Mister Travis! Splendid to meet you." the bot replied pleasantly, wheeling back around and heading straight for him. For a split second, he was nervous.
"Who are, uh...?" he fumbled, backing up until his back hit the door.
"Socrates at your service, sir." he greeted, miming a tip of a hat.
Travis rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly, waving the letter.
"Who's...?" he began, but he didn't get a chance to get his full question out.
"Socrates, what is taking you so long? Let's go!"
The impatient-sounding words disappeared into the air as the young lady wound around the corner, shielding her face from the sun.
It took him a second longer than he'd like to admit to put two and two together, studying woman and robot together until he felt that bolt of realization strike him.
"Oh!" he said suddenly.
"Apologies for the delay, ma'am." Socrates said, moving to float beside her. "I was saying hello to Mister Travis. He came outside as I was leaving."
The young woman might have been his age or a few years younger, but it was difficult to tell with the way her warm chestnut hair partially obscured her face. What he could see was decorated in long, very old scars, one that ran from her hairline and just across the top of her brow bone, another that cut a wide arc from her sideburn down to her jaw. One hand rested on her hip, her opposite sleeve rolled up to the elbow to reveal that she was missing the lower portion of her other arm. There was apprehension in her face, but the shy sort that he could feel on his own.
"So, you're Quinn?" he asked to break the sudden silence, reducing the distance between them.
"Yes," she replied instantly, though she immediately corrected herself with a "Well, no. It's Quill, actually."
Travis could feel goosebumps of embarrassment immediately break out along his arms and legs.
"...huh?" he asked.
"You know, like the fancy pen." she elaborated, scribbling nonsense in the air to further demonstrate her point.
He opened the newest letter already in his grip, eyes skipping straight down to the bottom of the page where he found that the flouncy, girly signature that would typically be there had been replaced by a blocky, fluid script that read "QUILL" very clearly in caps.
"Oh." he said, numb with embarrassment. He felt like such an idiot. "Sorry."
"It's no big deal!" she said, waving her hand dismissively. Her own cheeks seemed quite a bit pinker than they had been only a moment before. "Who knows, maybe we were supposed to run into each other today so that I could tell you."
Travis could feel himself relax incrementally at her words, her efforts to soothe him. The horrifying knowledge that he'd been calling the one person to ever refer to themselves as a real enjoyer of his work by the wrong name was still smotheringly present, but he could breathe easier, at least.
"Hm. Maybe." he replied, grasping for words to keep the conversation going. He was in no rush to see her leave. "So...do you come here often? You know, Diamond City, I mean."
She smiled that small, private smile again at his quick correction. Her little expressions were cute, he thought.
"I try to get out of the house regularly. A little afraid I'll go crazy if I don't. Still, sometimes Socrates has to drag me out, anyway."
He nodded, a quiet chuckle rumbling in his chest.
"I get that. I see the sun so little that sometimes I worry about bursting into flames when I step outside." he joked, looking at his pallid hands and arms.
She giggled playfully at that, and the sound was musical.
"Well, obviously I'm glad you spend so much time at the microphone," she said, fiddling with her bag and not quite looking at him. "Burn risk aside."
The squirming, nervous feeling in his gut only grew at her compliment, and he tried his best to not fidget in place.
"That's really nice to hear." he said.
She shrugged, sweeping her hair away from her face. It was longer than he'd thought upon first inspection, he thought, his gaze tracing the wave of it as it fell down her back.
"I'm sure you get lots of compliments." she said.
"Nah. Most of the time when people are, uh, talking to me about the show, they're complaining." he responded, both joking and a little serious. Not everyone had negative things to say, but many people did have constructive criticism about the way he did things. Very few people had ever outright told him to quit or told him he sucked, most very well-intentioned, but his new friend's kind words warmed his chest in an unexpected way anyway.
"Oh, I'm sure that's not true!" she shot back, her tone more incredulous than he'd expected. "I know so many people who depend on the radio to keep their sanity."
He shrugged in mostly-begrudging agreement.
Another moment passed, the three creatures all looking at one another.
"By the way." she added suddenly, breaking the silence. "If you don't mind, I've got my eye out for a tape of my favorite song from back home. Maybe you'd like it. You wouldn't have to play it on the show if you didn't or anything, obviously. I just have been wondering what your opinion would be on it for a while now."
"Oh." Travis replied dumbly, his brows disappearing up into his floppy, dark bangs. "Sure. I'd like to hear it. That'd be, uh, cool."
Hearing that seemed to please her, her eyes bright and excited as she beamed.
"Great!" she said. "Hopefully we find one soon. I'm excited."
"Yeah, for sure," he said with his own timid smile. "Me too."
After a flash of eye contact that was probably a second longer than intended, Quill let out a sigh and looked toward her shiny, hovering companion.
"Well, I guess we'd better get going, Soc. It'll be dinnertime soon." she announced, kicking at the exposed dirt with the toe of her shoe.
"You two get home safe." Travis said, projecting as much confidence as possible and still not hearing a change in his voice.
He stuck his hand out for her to shake, his heart jumping into his throat when he realized he'd offered her his hand on the side where she didn't have one to reciprocate. Mumbling an apology, he switched sides and gave her a shake. Thankfully, Quill seemed to take it in stride, her grip strong as she smiled warmly at him. It made his heart race. The grip they maintained on one another's hands lingered just like their eye contact had, but only for a split second.
"Thanks for being cool about the letters, by the way." she said, throwing it in casually as she pulled away.
He shrugged, stalling while he struggled to think of something cool-seeming to say.
"It feels a little egotistical to say 'keep 'em coming', but, y'know...keep 'em coming, I guess." was what he settled on, and he wanted to kick himself for it.
"No worries on that." she responded, miraculously.
Neither of them managed to come up with anything else to keep the conversation going, so they exchanged hesitant goodbyes before Quill and Socrates headed off. Travis paused at his door, leaning against it as he watched them go until they disappeared out of view. It was only after he took a deep breath that he noticed he was trembling excitedly.
---
The two both left the interaction an equal mix of excited and utterly humiliated, each nervous they'd come across as too strange to be the sort of person you hang out with casually while still hopeful for the future. Back at home, Quill was lost in thought while she gave herself a bath with a rag and a bucket of water Socrates had warmed on the barely-working stove for her, each pass of the rough cloth over her skin removing more of the grime of the day's travels. Yet another thing she hated about Diamond City: it was filthy.
As she rinsed her hair, carefully leaning over the dry sink, her mind turned to Travis and their conversation. She passed the rag across her chest, and her nipples stood at attention.
Back in the city, Travis had set the station to play on its own for a longer stretch so he could get some rest, sprawled out across the rickety bed that sat up against the wall as he listened to Cole Porter lament the times. For the umpteenth time, he ran over what had happened in his mind, trying to determine just how much he'd ultimately embarrassed himself. Fretful, he worried that his strange behavior might have been too much, but he soothed himself by thinking about her reactions. If she'd found him repugnant in any way, she'd hidden it masterfully behind a dozen kind smiles and a warm laugh.
For the half-dozenth time, he turned his eyes to the letter laying on his chest.
Dear Travis,
Firstly, I want to say how much I enjoyed the most recent Silver Shroud, even if big cliffhangers really annoy me! I'm trying my best to become a more patient person, but it's difficult sometimes, you know? Waiting for good things is so hard most of the time. If there's anything living in the Commonwealth has taught me, though, it's how to deal with hard things.
If I'm honest, I'm not sure I'd have made it out here without the friends I've made and your show keeping my spirits up. I know you like to be a little hard on yourself for kicks sometimes, but I sincerely hope you never quit. You have so much potential, and your work means a lot to me. I know I'm not the only one, either. Keep your chin up!
Sincerely yours,
QUILL
P.S., Ella Fitzgerald outdoes Danny Kaye, hands-down. Sorry to have to disagree with you on that one!
Her name wasn't written quite as pretty as he was used to, but he still found himself captivated by each and every elegant swoop and curve on the page. He'd never had a fixation on another person's handwriting before, but, then again, he'd never received complimentary letters, either. A time for everything, he supposed.
Goosebumps decorated Quill's skin as she pulled on her well-worn sleep clothes, thin enough to breathe in the still-warm night air. After her nightly routine of double-checking the door to ensure it was locked, she settled herself into bed. The mattress smelled more than a bit like mildew, but it was one of the nicer ones she'd found in all her time exploring the world outside her Vault. It had been quite the sight to watch Socrates carry it all the way home. A smile spread across her face at the memory, but a frustrated huff followed right after.
Sleep was evading her.
She rolled over onto her side, staring at the little specks of moonlight that seeped through the boarded-up window and scattered themselves across the floor. With enough deep breaths and reassurances from her robotic companion, she'd managed to convince herself that the meeting with Travis had actually gone pretty well despite her nerves.
The relief she felt did nothing to soothe her nearly obsessive replaying of the events over and over again as she closed her eyes.
He was handsome. She'd always sort of expected that, she supposed, but him being as cute as he was had really thrown her for a loop on top of the surprise of meeting him face-to-face so unexpectedly. His tall, lean form was very clear in her imagination. She peeked an eye open and tuned her ears to see if she could hear Socrates moving around outside. He was prone to frequent security rounds, but by and large spent his nights in his power-saving mode near the front door. Though his movements made no sound on the floor, she couldn't hear the telltale sound of his exhaust fan.
Rolling onto her back again, she thought about those long, elegant fingers, how they'd felt gripping her own. Her teeth dug into her lower lip as she let her hand wander down her torso, ticking across the soft, faint hairs that ran from her navel to her mound. She took a slow, steadying breath in.
Travis, too, was fighting sleep. His mind refused to give his body any relief from thoughts about Quill, about her pretty face and the soft, feminine curves that filled her clothes so perfectly. Guilt tickled at the nape of his neck, raising goosebumps along his forearms and legs as he thought about the long, open way he'd stared at her as she walked away, tracing her hair as it danced in the breeze before moving down to lock onto her ass and hips.
He groaned in frustration as his cock started to throb. Since he'd settled in, he'd been fighting off an erection, but his inability to think about anything other than how the rest of her was probably even softer than her hand had been was only pulling his head further into the muck. There was a tension in his core that was slowly spreading to his back and neck, his limbs, and he flopped back and forth in discomfort, unable to settle.
Yawning, he pointed his toes toward the wall and arched his back, relieving none of the nagging stiffness. A few small holes had broken through the rustier spots in the roof, he noted as his eyes traced the spot. He'd have to get up on the roof and patch the thing, he thought with a frown. He was already none too keen on the height of the trailer itself, so the idea of going higher didn't exactly thrill him.
Thoughts of home maintenance were only able to occupy him for so long. Pondering how nice it would be to have Quill keep him company while he did the repair work rapidly devolved into wondering what sort of sounds she'd make if he grabbed her hips and pulled himself into her from behind, burying his face in her hair and grinding against her like he'd fantasized as she walked away. His fully-stiff erection nagged at him, trapped within the fitted thigh of his jeans.
He pulled his shabby little pillow over his face and sighed deeply into it.
Wriggling around in her sheets, Quill was ahead of the curve, but stalling out a bit. Her hand was buried between her thighs, tracing lazy circles around her bud, but she wasn't moving any closer to where she was trying to go. The motion felt good, but she was struggling to relax enough to fully enjoy herself. Exhaling bluntly, she ran her hand down her face, still thinking about Travis and his tall form, his long fingers. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to imagine them in place of her own, touching her just the way she liked, petting her hair and rubbing at her slickened clit. She let a grunt slip, nearly a groan, and her whole face felt burning hot as she bit down on her lip to keep herself quiet. If Socrates found her like this, she'd die of embarrassment.
Travis lost his battle with temptation after a few more minutes of attempting to deny himself the release he so badly needed, running a hand over the jutting bulge in his trousers. He was burning from his core to the tip of his ears.
It felt dirty, perverted to pleasure himself while thinking explicitly about a real person—it always had to him, even when he'd had crushes before. But between the thoughtful, borderline romantic letters, her unique beauty, and having real physical contact with her, he could picture no one else as he fought with his belt buckle, whimpering when he tugged his cock free.
"Fuck." he whined quietly as he began to stroke himself. He moved lightly at first, but rapidly built up more and more pressure, leaving him throbbing and leaking into his own grip.
Quill, still threatening to chew a hole straight through her lower lip, was finally making progress towards her goal. Her hand took a break from strumming herself to tug and roll one of her straining nipples between her thumb and forefinger, which made her shudder. Her toes began to curl the tighter the knot in her gut became, her breathing labored. She wondered if he would feel heavy on top of her, pressing her down into the bed.
"Oh, Travis." she breathed.
The object of her fantasizing was blowing past her despite his early stalling. It wasn't terribly often that he allowed himself this sort of indulgence thanks to his guilt, so his stamina was nearly nonexistent. He lacked any ability to meter out the pleasure, to keep himself on the edge so he could enjoy himself longer. No, he was abusing himself harshly, fist working hard around his erection as his hips mirrored the rhythm he'd set.
His imagination was even less controlled than his hand, fully envisioning a naked Quill on top of him as his unoccupied hand gripped the edge of the metal bed frame for dear life. He wanted her there with him, to feel the heat coming off of her body as she rubbed her naked skin against his, to meld their lips together as she rode him. Envisioning the sway of her breasts as she did so was more than he could handle, and he shot his load all over his stomach and hand with a pitiful cry. The unexpected rush of pleasure made his whole body twitch and writhe, which was nearly enough to overwhelm the embarrassment at his sudden end.
Nearly.
As he went about cleaning himself up, Quill was balled up with tension, her knees toward the ceiling as she huffed and hissed. Her arm burned with the exertion, her eyes screwed completely shut as she pictured Travis burying his face in her throat while he touched her. For a split second, she could smell him again, that tang of cedar and old books that had ridden the breeze and tickled her nose as they'd shaken hands.
"Shit." she groaned as her orgasm broke over her, feet scrambling for purchase as her hand knotted in the sheets. Every hair on her body stood on end as she swallowed back more whimpers, arching her back high.
Suddenly she could hear the humming of an exhaust fan.
"Is everything alright, ma'am?" Socrates called from around the corner.
"Fine, Soc." she responded quickly, gripping the blanket to pull it up to her chin. "Go back to sleep."
"Yes, ma'am."
Both young people were trembling hard as they curled up in their respective beds, Quill's brow still decorated with beads of sweat as Travis tossed away the cloth he'd used to tidy his mess. They were red from the crown of their heads to the base of their necks, both still pricked with discomfort despite the relaxation that also washed over them. The spots beside them weren't any emptier than usual, but felt ice cold, regardless.
Travis held the newest letter to his chest, running his fingers over it as he let his eyes close. She did the same, fingers tapping as she listened quietly to the radio. Already, she had the itch to write more. The raven-haired young man was quick to fall into unconsciousness, his lids heavy and breathing slow. The former Vault-dweller mirrored his posture, curled up on her side and patting at the empty space absentmindedly.
As they drifted off, each wondered how long they'd be able to keep their thoughts and feelings to themselves.
"Goodnight, Travis." Quill whispered as sleep finally took her.
Pairing: Joshua Graham x Female Original Fallout Character ("Penny")
Word Count: 10,890
Warnings: smut (18+), blood, tobacco use, descriptions of wounds, mentions of violence, jealousy, religious guilt, angst, groping, mutual masturbation, dub-con-ish.
Summary: A sequel to Lay It Upon Them. In the aftermath of her near-death experience (and her confusing encounter with Joshua Graham), Penny struggles to grapple with the complex feelings she has towards him. As the conflict with the White Legs nears its crescendo, Graham grows increasingly distant after a certain Mojave courier enters into Zion, believing they may be the key to victory. Tensions mount, jealousy flourishes, and Penny is returned to that familiar crossroads: leave Zion on her own terms, or stay amongst the only family she has left.
Notes: I hope everyone that enjoyed the first installment likes this one just as much! Big thanks to @sensitiveyoungdeer for the commission (and bigger thanks for basically writing the summary for me).
Penny's sleep had yet to return to normal since the incident. Despite her efforts to force it by working herself to the bone during the daytime, she tossed and turned all through the night until she was exhausted enough to rest for a few hours. Each morning, she felt more worn down.
When she did manage to truly sleep, her mind so often took her back to the same place, to the inside of that tent filled with shame and death, trembling as she stood over the bodies of her most cherished loved ones. She could see with perfect clarity her mother, Penny's hunting knife buried under her chin. Daniel with his throat slashed. Her brother lay on the ground just outside, shot in the chest and blanketed in a curtain of black flies. When she looked down at herself, at her aching body, she was completely naked, every inch of bruised skin covered in blood.
Despairing, she sank to the ground and sobbed, covering her face with her scarlett hands.
"It had to be done." a voice said.
Her head snapped up with almost unnatural speed to see Joshua standing over her, staring at her with pity and disgust. With measured slowness, he sank down onto his knees beside her. The corpses, the blood, none of it seemed to even register to him despite how his gaze raked up and down her body. He reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, firm, but not painful. His off-white bandages seemed so pristine compared to her sullied skin. It didn't feel as if he was yanking her closer, but her face was suddenly only a few inches from his, those intense blue eyes staring straight into hers.
"It had to be done." he said again, his grip on her arm intensifying as his other hand disappeared between her thighs.
Penny shot up straight, her breathing shaky and uneven as she struggled to properly fill her lungs. The long-sleeved cotton undershirt she'd gone to bed in was soaked through with sweat, beads of which also clung to her brow. Staring down at her palms, she clenched and unclenched her fingers a dozen times, staring at the damp skin in the moonlight for any speck of red. There was none.
She could still hear the deafening buzz of the flies as she drew a deep breath, trying to steady herself. The shirt clung to her back, and she shivered as a soft breeze blew through the camp. The days were slowly growing shorter, cooler, but they were no less full of stress about the impending final encounter with the White Legs.
Full of nervous energy, she pulled herself to her feet and paced a bit, her hand pressing just above her hip, trying to soothe the familiar tightness in her middle where the two short, crooked scars decorated her flesh. It was far too early to be awake, still pitch dark outside, so she eventually forced herself back onto the bed roll. Huffing frustratedly, she pulled out the flashlight she kept in her bag, juggling it with the leatherbound tome she'd begun to keep on her always.
A part of her was beginning to feel like Joshua with the way her scriptures seemed to magically appear in her hand the moment she had even a beat of time left alone with her thoughts. She frowned at the thought of the former Legionary, goosebumps materializing on her forearms and thighs.
"I think it's wonderful you've gotten more invested in your spiritual studies." Daniel had said when he'd seen her reading feverishly one day. "Our faith will be an important guide in the coming days."
She'd nodded along with his words, but they'd twisted her guts into strangely nervous knots. Mercifully, reading in the dark did, at least, fatigue her eyes enough to get her to close them again after a few minutes, but she was unable to truly rest, too afraid to be transported back into that hell again.
"Morning." someone said suddenly.
"Ah!" she gasped instantly, popping back up onto her elbow.
"Hey, it's alright." a familiar voice soothed, moving closer as she struggled to force her bleary vision to work in the sudden light. The smell of antiseptic and fresh cut wood, also familiar, washed over her as she sat up fully.
"Morning, Daniel." she mumbled.
"I just came to check on you." he said, sizing her up. "Sleeping in?"
Groggy-eyed, she studied the sun, the angle of the shadows around her. It did, indeed, seem to be later than she usually rose, despite having still been dark what felt like only moments ago.
"Not on purpose." she answered.
Her friend cocked his head, eyes on hers.
"You feeling okay?"
She nodded, her hands slicking over her mussed hair.
"Yeah. Just not sleeping great lately."
He shrugged, nodding in hesitant agreement.
"Good sleep is rare lately," he said. "Well, I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright. I hadn't seen you like I usually do."
She smiled at his consideration, though it was a guilty one.
"Sorry." she offered.
"No need." he hand-waved, pulling himself to his feet once more. "If you need anything, I'm headed to talk with Joshua and our new friend."
"Mhm." she grunted, instantly irked at the mention of the most recent arrival to Zion as she began to dress.
The Courier was affable enough. Though, with their short-cropped haircut and the way they were always dressed under multiple layers, it was impossible to tell if they were a man or a woman, which Penny found more than a little confusing. More than once she'd been caught staring, trying to make heads or tails of what she felt like should be such basic information. It felt rude to ask outright, though, so she didn't. Basic though it was, it wasn't like she knew their real name, either.
Rather quickly, she stopped wondering so much about their gender and began pondering their past, where they'd come from. New Vegas loomed large and mysterious in the back of her mind.
For the first two days they spent in camp, they'd slept most of the time, attempting to speed up the healing of the wounds they'd received during their own encounter with the White Legs. They'd managed to drag themselves all the way to the Dead Horses camp, along with a little help from Follows-Chalk, but they'd collapsed when they'd reached it. The scene had caused quite the stir among the people, and word had quickly reached the other camp, sending both her and Daniel running. Joshua, already present to do some work in the Angel Cave, had been keeping people calm when they'd arrived.
It hadn't taken them long to come around to consciousness after the two men and Follows-Chalk had relocated their limp body. She found herself glad, despite not knowing them; it was scary to see, she'd thought, the way they flopped and rolled with each motion, their eyes lolling behind their lids. Daniel had seemed rather concerned about the most visible injuries, the gash in their leg and the big lump on their forehead from where they'd fallen and caught their head on a rock.
"No concussion, it seems. You're lucky." he'd told them after a long examination and lots of questions, carefully turning their head between his hands. His fingers prodded around the border of the massive swell, passing over a big, sharp scar that ran from their temple to the center of their skull. Penny had studied it curiously as she watched the exam.
"I've come out of worse situations relatively unscathed." they'd replied, grinning as best as they could. They'd had trouble holding their head up, still bleeding and visibly shaken. That was the least surprising of their symptoms, considering that the entire party they'd traveled with from Nevada had been wiped out in the attack. They were the only survivor.
In the couple of weeks that had passed since they'd first appeared, their demeanor had softened despite the way they seemed to still grieve their companions. Once things had been settled with their new friend's health, several members of the tribes had volunteered to dig graves for the fallen caravan members, and she herself had gone along to help guard the group as they worked. They'd been laid to rest with care, given the sort of "last rites" the Sorrows gave their own. The Courier had gone to see the graves only once since they'd gotten up and around, but she could hardly blame them. Visiting the dead wasn't on her list of favorite pastimes, either.
She'd taken to watching them when she could, picking up bits of information from others to store away. After lapping back from her morning scouting a touch early, she found herself crouched down on a ledge and peering down into the upper levels of the camp, sure to keep her posture casual in case she was being watched, herself. If asked, she'd deny her observational habits to her last breath.
It took longer than she'd anticipated, but eventually they emerged from the nook where Joshua would sometimes meet with people to discuss their defense strategy. The two were still deep in conversation, the bandaged man pointing to something on the screen of the Pip-Boy the Courier kept strapped to their arm at all times. She'd heard of the strange devices before, but never seen one in person—yet another point to draw her attention.
Penny studied the pair very closely as they walked together towards the edge of the central part of camp, creeping along the bluff to keep her line of sight. Joshua seemed to be giving them some sort of directions, no doubt sending them out to run yet another mysterious errand. Both New Canaanite men had recently given their guest tasks to accomplish, she'd noted.
The way they stood so close, almost conspiratorial in the way they spoke, made her itch. Joshua's posture didn't change from the stiff way he held himself around everyone else, but the intensity with which he seemed to speak, the way he seemed to confide his plans in them, made her feel an unpleasant tightness at her temples. She had barely spoken to him since the Courier had appeared.
Finally, they parted ways, the one-time Legionary disappearing up the hill that led to the upper levels of the camp. The Courier lingered a few moments, watching him go before doubling back the way they'd come. That only made her temples tighter, and she sighed. Over the months she'd spent in Zion, she'd become much more adept at climbing, slipping from one level of rocky cliff to the next until she'd reached the ground again. It was late enough in the afternoon that it wouldn't be odd for her to return, so she made her way back towards the center of camp.
When she turned the final corner, she nearly ran right into them.
"Oh, hey Penny." they greeted, jumping out of her path to avoid colliding with her.
"Hi." she replied, terse for reasons she couldn't quite put her finger on.
"Everything going okay?" they asked, staring her down with those big, expressive eyes of theirs. The lump that had jutted from their outer brow bone was gone, but the splotchy green and purple bruising there had only spread as it lightened and dissipated.
"Fine." she said, crossing her arms loosely in front of her. "Meeting with Joshua?"
Her voice was jealous-sounding, which caught her off-guard. Thankfully, the Courier hardly seemed to notice.
"Yeah. He wants me to go scare up some walkie-talkies that're supposed to be around somewhere." they explained with a shrug. "A fishing lodge or something? Do you know anything about it?"
She had seen the place before, certainly, though she'd never set foot inside. It was one of the places some of the tribespeople considered "taboo" to enter, but that had never really stopped her before. She'd just never been curious enough to enter.
"Yes, I know of it."
There was a look of clear relief that immediately spread across their face. It annoyed her.
"Do you think you could help me find the place? My Pip-Boy's only so much help when it comes to specifics, you know."
She was quiet for a moment too long.
"I mean, you don't have to if you're too busy or whatever. I know you're busy helping keep everyone safe and stuff, so don't worry about it if not." they followed up quickly, that slightly manic energy they always carried intensifying with their discomfort.
Penny felt a warmth in her chest at the acknowledgment of her contributions to the camp, which made her feel even more guilty for the hostility she kept letting slip.
"No, it's fine. I'd be happy to show you where it is." she said after a breath, though her words were still rather begrudging.
Their posture relaxed a bit.
"That'd be great!" they exclaimed. "Whenever works for you."
Just over their shoulder, down the incline, she could see Joshua making his way back up the path. Though she might have been imagining it thanks to her suddenly spiking stress, she thought it seemed like he was staring at them.
"Now's fine. It's important we have what we need." she said, turning to put her back towards him. "Let's go."
The pair set off immediately, walking in the opposite direction towards the narrow pass that led out of the Sorrows' base. Penny pulled ahead by a few steps, and her companion didn't seem to mind. She'd expected them to try and make conversation, but they were silent for the entire walk along the easternmost edge of the canyon. Quietly as she could, she let out a sigh of frustration. She knew her anger was...a little misplaced. In the Courier's shoes, she'd have kept quiet, too.
"So, are you originally from New Vegas?" she asked, turning her head to project back behind her.
"Oh." they replied, surprised-sounding. "Yeah. I grew up in NCR territory not too far from the city. I've traveled around quite a bit, but I always gravitate back towards home eventually."
"Ah." she replied as they crossed over the river, which reduced itself to a shallow trickle just beyond the mouth of the camp's entrance. Talks of home and going home always managed to make her feel as if there was a heavy weight sitting dead in the center of her chest, and she huffed more than usual as they climbed up the sharp hill.
"How long have you been in Zion?" they asked.
There was relief at their choice of question. She was sure Joshua (and possibly Daniel, as well) had discussed the destruction of New Canaan in their meetings with the Courier, and they seemed to understand that the topic wasn't anyone's favorite.
"The better part of a year." Penny answered, still just a hair ahead as they wound along the eastern edge of the walking path. "Feels longer, though."
"Mm." she thought she heard them say. "Not sure I'd make it a year here without an excursion or two. It's beautiful and all, but...I dunno. I get the itch. You know?"
For the first time in their journey, the two fell into lock-step beside one another. Penny was quiet for a handful of steps.
They closed in on the abandoned fishing lodge, both of them taking in the small building decorated in white handprints centered within smeary red circles, warning signs that the place was forbidden to enter to the members of the tribes. As they came up to the porch, she lifted her hand and placed it on top of one of the marks. The fit was nearly perfect.
"You're sure it's okay to go in here?" the Courier asked, mounting the rickety stairs and eyeballing the door. "I'm not gonna get shunned or anything?"
Penny nodded.
"It's fine. The people are just extra respectful of all these old ruins." she explained. "Still, have your gun ready."
Luckily, the place was populated by only a couple geckos, which they easily dispatched. The place seemed to have been rather cozy at one point in its lifespan, but now it was little more than a dusty monument to the past. After a bit of rummaging, they still hadn't found the walkie-talkies.
"Hey." they said, giving the doors of a cabinet that stood behind the bar a good shake. "What about in here? You any good with a lockpick?"
Penny wobbled her flattened hand back and forth in a "so-so" motion.
"Me either. Maybe if we keep looking, the key will turn up."
She gnawed away at the corner of her lower lip as she poked through the junk laying around, noting anything of worth that might be worth returning for...at some point. She was in no mood to lug a hundred pounds of anything all the way back to camp. Her mind was too busy racing with other thoughts to sort out the logistics.
"So..." she began awkwardly after a few minutes of absolute silence. "Do you think I could ask you some questions about Vegas when you get a chance?"
"Like what?"
She shrugged, uneasy.
"Lots of things, I guess."
They mirrored her gesture, tossing their hands casually.
"Sure. I mean, if you wanted to start now..."
Her head began to shake all on its own.
"Nah. I need some time to get my thoughts together." she replied, perhaps a bit more openly than she'd intended. "Later?"
"Sure."
They both returned to their hunt, and only a few minutes later their efforts paid off when Penny came across a small key ring. The wooden cabinet doors groaned dramatically when the Courier pulled on them, a plume of dust immediately following as they swung open. The stale smell tickled delicately at her nose, and she sneezed a few times.
"Jeez," she complained, wiping at her nose as she watched them rifle. "Are they there?"
After a beat, they straightened and held the old tech in their gloved hands. She studied them as her companion sat them aside.
"Oooooh. Look at this." they cooed after another few seconds of rummaging, producing another item from the cupboard with a flourish.
The hunting shotgun was badly in need of a deep cleaning, but it was gorgeous nonetheless. She could feel her brows climb up towards the sky as she gave the dusty walnut stock a careful pet, studying the 12-gauge.
"Pump-action." she whistled. "Gorgeous."
Every New Canaanite had a deep familiarity with firearms. Guns were part of each and every member of the tribe's life, learning to fire and care for the .45s they traditionally used considered a major milestone on the way to maturity for both men and women. Though she, herself, had always been more fond of long guns, she could clean and maintain one of the pistols with her eyes closed. That history had naturally given way to a more general appreciation of firearms overall as she'd aged.
"Do you want it?" they asked, holding it out in their flattened palms. A peace offering.
Flattered, Penny shook her head again, holding her hand out as politely as she could.
"No, thanks. I'm pretty attached to mine." she said. "Besides, that'll fetch a nice price next time we can safely get a trader out here. Or, you know, whenever you leave. You'll want money to get back to Vegas, right?"
There was some disappointment in their eyes, but they hid it well behind what also seemed to be genuine appreciation for her concern.
"Yeah, probably so. Still, it's so nice I might sell my other piece instead..."
"Understandable." Penny replied, giving the weapon one last appraisal before turning her attention back to the walkie-talkies on the bar top. The dark, old things sort of looked like a brick with two little cups where your ear and mouth were supposed to go, one on each end. They seemed to stare at her pityingly.
"Is...is this it?" she asked. There was a sudden, growing ache in her stomach.
The Courier seemed confused, but they were patient in their reply despite it.
"Is...the walkies? Yeah, that's all we came out here for."
Penny's entire body felt hot, but she was simultaneously covered in goosebumps. She recognized the feeling that was creeping over her well, the deep-rooted shame enveloping her like a curtain. Just like before, like that day in the canyon that she'd messed up so badly and her whole world had come crashing down as a result, she felt a mounting tension in her chest that she had no ability to rein in.
That same seething, overwhelming anger bubbled in her core, threatening to boil over. She wanted to lash out. She wanted to vomit. Her head spun, trying to reverse-engineer what had made her assume she had been asked here for anything useful.
Joshua. Why did she always think of Joshua in moments like this? She bit into her lip and stared through the Courier where they were digging around under the bar, scanning through the various liquors. What had they discussed before she had run into them? Why had he farmed this out to a stranger? Was she not up to the task of fetching basic items only a mile or two from their base?
It was no great shock to her that Daniel gave these sorts of tasks to someone else, something as simple as locating a compass or a first aid kit. Daniel had always tried to clip her wings, treated her as if she were a delicate waif in need of protection—even when she actively and violently bucked back against that image. But, for all his faults, Daniel did what he did out of care, out of a fear that he'd lose yet another of the people he loved if anything ever happened to her. She'd always known that, even when it annoyed her so badly she refused to speak to him or chose to openly defy him.
She didn't understand Joshua's motivations at all.
"Do you need anything else from me?" she asked suddenly, unsure how long she'd been standing frozen over them. Her fingers ached terribly, and it wasn't until she realized she was clenching her hands into fists that the pain subsided.
"I don't think so. Something the matter, Penny?" the Courier asked, peeking up from their spot on the floor.
"No. I just remembered I was supposed to meet someone before dinner," she lied. She could hardly breath steadily enough to keep her voice even.
"Oh. Do you need me to walk you back?" they asked, dusting off their clothes.
She shook her head.
"That's okay. Stay and poke around if you like. I'm sure there's more of value you could find."
"Okay," they smiled. "I will. Be careful getting back, though."
She managed a smile of her own, one that felt pretty genuine, even.
"Thanks. I will." she replied, leaving the two-way radios on the counter as she turned and exited.
By the time the door swung shut behind her and her foot met the first warped step, the tears were flowing down her cheeks.
She didn't allow herself to run, no matter how severely each and every muscle in her body burned, demanded she do so to relieve the intensity that filled her. No, she made her most valiant effort to keep her eyes peeled for any signs of movement as she made her way back down the trail as calmly as she could manage. When she wiped at her wet face, she did so as discreetly as possible, trying to keep her skin from becoming all red and swollen by the time she made it back. The tears kept coming. She gritted her teeth and picked up the pace by a hair.
By the time she'd made it back to camp, it was, thankfully, time for the evening meal for most folks, so she was able to avoid seeing anyone up close by taking the outer path to where she sometimes laid when she had trouble sleeping, a hidden little nook tucked between two of the cave openings. She let her back hit the wall hard, sliding down the rough surface until she collapsed into a pile of despondent limbs.
Her brain wouldn't grant her a reprieve from thinking about her mentor. She'd somehow managed to convince herself, after what she'd overheard him say about her, after what had happened, that he viewed her in some sort of respectable or capable light, that he saw in her what she saw in herself. That he believed she could be a warrior like him. As she wrapped her arms around her folded knees, she felt foolish for ever thinking so.
The crying had quieted a bit, but the longer she sat, hidden away and alone, the blurrier her vision became. Fumbling around, she rummaged through her bag and pulled out her Bible, desperately flipping to a familiar passage to comfort her. The words on the page were too blurry to read, no matter how rapidly she blinked the tears away.
Letting out a small sob, Penny clutched the worn book to her chest and wept. The very act made her so mad at herself she trembled, but she couldn't stop. She felt small, helpless. Useless.
She stayed like that for a while, hiding her face in her knees until she'd regained control of her breathing. The cool metal of her canteen felt good on her hot face as she tried to soothe the irritation there. Once she determined she didn't look foolish from all the wiping and rubbing at her eyes, she decided she would go down and have something to eat. There was no point in wasting the whole evening moping.
Unfortunately, when she stepped out of her hiding place, she could see over the ledge that the Courier and Joshua were sat together among the thinning crowd, each pointing at a different spot on a map unfurled between them. Even Daniel sat a few feet away, seemingly listening in and very occasionally contributing to the conversation. The sight very nearly reduced her to tears again, but the rage she felt at her own weakness managed to stave it off. She returned to the cave and set to cleaning her rifle instead, tucking into a cold can of beans from her pack to fill her stomach.
A few hours later, Penny was settling in for the night, doing a few deep stretches before she tucked in and tried to rest. She was distracted by thoughts of the Courier as she reached for her toes, the old wound in her middle tense again. Her hand found the spot and she absentmindedly massaged at it, contemplative.
She was only about halfway through her routine when she could hear the familiar, hustling steps of one of her fellow New Canaanites approaching. She held her breath and waited to see which it would be.
"Going to bed already?" Daniel asked as he appeared, taking in her posture.
She let out a soft sigh, a bittersweet relief on her tongue as she replied.
"Yeah." she said. "Long day today."
He nodded, leaning against the stone wall.
"Well, I came to ask you something."
"Ask away." she grinned.
"I'm gonna go out for a little hunting tomorrow morning, I think. I'd really like it if you'd come with me."
She looked up at him, studying the tired look on his face with a skeptical eye.
"Hunting, eh? I'm surprised you even have time and energy for this conversation, Daniel, let alone a hunt." she replied, her tone half-teasing, half-concern. Her old friend had seen better days as of late, as the encounters with the White Legs grew more frequent and the fight continued to escalate. She knew he wasn't resting well or often.
"I think a little break will be very...healing for me." he said, pulling off his hat to run his hand through his overgrown hair for a moment. "Will you come?"
She pulled her knees to her chest again, resting her chin on them, and gazed up at him.
"Sure. Sounds fun."
The two set out the next morning before the sun had even begun to emerge over the hills, the still-cool air clinging to them as they climbed across the rocky ledges. Some rabbits and other smaller creatures scurried into the dry brush as they passed, but both of their eyes were peeled for signs of larger game.
"Quiet day." Daniel noted after an hour or so had passed, the two of them slinking around one of the old abandoned fire towers. Neither had seen hide nor hair of anything bigger than a coyote.
"Sure is. Wonder if maybe the weather—" she began to reply, but only a moment later, she spotted movement just over the hill they were cresting.
"Watch out!" she warned Daniel.
The gecko was the size of a small man, though it seemed larger as it threw itself at her suddenly, its lipless beak wide open as it snapped and hissed. Penny managed to dodge its attack with relative ease, beckoning it towards her so that it would be drawn away from Daniel. He was a capable hunter, but having to actually fight anything was not a skill of his. Thankfully, the thing took the bait, striking at her again. She laid a shot into its torso, which was enough to stop it in its tracks long enough to finish it off with another shot. It hit the ground with a solid thud.
"Well, that was an even quicker hunt than I thought it would be!" she chuckled, rolling the thing onto its back as she tried to catch her breath. Her veins were coursing with adrenaline.
"You've gotten pretty good with that thing." her friend noted as he lowered his own weapon. He didn't move to help her wrangle the carcass, however, looking at her peculiarly.
"What's the matter, Daniel?" she asked, strapping Second Chance back into its place across her shoulders.
He seemed to debate whether to say what he wanted to or not.
"I'll be honest, Penny. I wanted you to come out here with me so we would have some real privacy. I wanted to talk to you about something."
She hid her grimace. That was always a dangerous phrase to hear from Daniel.
"Yeah? What's that?" she asked, not looking at him as she tied the dead gecko's hind legs together.
He sighed, lowering himself down to lean against what remained of a fence panel.
"You seem a bit distant lately. For a few weeks now, actually. Are you alright?" he asked. "You're not quite yourself."
Instantly, she could feel her pulse creep upwards.
"You're not quite yourself lately, either." she remarked, her tone less judgemental than her words. "I think that sort of applies to everyone right now."
"I guess so. Things are stressful." the bearded man responded delicately. "But you're not yourself in a way I've never seen from you before."
She paused halfway through the knot to bind the forelegs, but still didn't look at him. There was a long beat of quiet between them, a soft breeze whistling through the cliffs.
"If you say it's nothing, I'll believe you." Daniel promised, moving a step or two closer. "But you can talk to me if something's bothering you. Anything."
There was an impossibly long moment where she turned the idea over in her mind. It didn't sound bad, having someone to talk to about what had happened between her and Joshua, but at the same time, she felt an overwhelming trepidation. Daniel might not be mad at her, but he would be mad at Joshua. Joshua would also probably be mad at her for telling. She sighed.
"I dunno. I'm thinking about a lot of things lately and I feel bad." was what came out.
He reached out and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Oh? What do you feel bad about?"
There was another quiet pause. Her knees beginning to ache, Penny opted to sit in the dirt beside the gecko, pivoting her weight onto her hip. Carefully, like she was looking at the sun, she peeked up at Daniel. He wore the same serious, sort of sad look she'd always known him to have, but there was real worry in his big, blue eyes.
"I promise I won't be upset with you, if that's what you're worried about." he said, and she believed him.
"I've been reading a lot of scripture lately. Stuff about choosing violence. Jealousy. Physical sin." she said, not quite answering his question.
A look of confusion swept across Daniel's features.
"Physical sin? You're talking about the violence?" he clarified.
Hesitant, Penny shook her head, her gaze on the ground all of the sudden. Already, she was starting to feel like she should stop talking.
"Oh." Daniel replied, the single word dripping with shock despite the steady way he'd delivered it. After a long beat, he asked:
"You feel guilty about...whatever it is?"
Carefully, she nodded. The man who had always been like an older brother to her seemed uncomfortable with the discussion, but he pressed forward anyway.
"To sin is human. Especially those kinds of sins. It's not an uncommon mistake." he said diplomatically, taking his turn to look at the ground. "It's not my place to judge you or tell you what you've done wrong. That's between you and God. Have you been talking to Him? Have you asked Him to forgive you?"
"Yes." she responded. "I still feel bad a lot, especially lately."
A moment later, he seemed to have some sort of realization.
"Are you afraid you're pregnant?" he asked. "Is that why you've been acting strange? Oh, Penny. You'll have to marry him if that's the case."
"No! No." she insisted, her heart breaking into an absolute madman's sprint at the mention of marriage. "I'm pretty sure I can't be."
"Pretty sure?"
Penny covered her burning face with her hands.
"I don't know! I don't know anything about this stuff! It's not like I set out to do it. It just happened. I didn't even start it!"
As soon as the words crossed the threshold of her teeth, she wished she could suck them right back in.
Daniel's demeanor shifted from patronizing disappointment to something else. Something harder.
"Who was this with?" he asked.
She immediately shook her head, looking away.
"Penny." he demanded, stepping back into her view. "Who?"
"I don't want to talk about it anymore. I really appreciate your advice, Daniel." she said with as much finality as she could muster with how close she suddenly felt to tears. "I'll keep praying. Can we go now?"
Hearing the emotional tremble in her voice, he conceded, seeking out a long stick to help them support the gecko's weight as they carried it back to camp. She could feel him staring a hole through her the entire walk, her guiding the way and him supporting the heavier back end. For once in his life, he managed to leave an issue alone.
She found herself both grateful and disappointed.
The two went their separate ways after they delivered the gecko to the handful of people who usually did the cooking, though she could feel Daniel's eyes on her back for a long minute before he disappeared. Penny offered to help them clean the thing, which still dripped the occasional spot of black-red blood, but they very graciously explained to her that she'd done plenty by bringing it to them. That hadn't been the answer she'd wanted to hear, so she set out on her scouting route extra early to avoid having to hang around.
Things had been far too chaotic and dangerous on the roads in recent days for her to truly resent a quiet, peaceful day, but she still found herself wishing she had something else to occupy her mind, something that didn't involve homes that no longer existed, or White Legs, or men that struggled to see her as a full, real person. Daniel's words about marriage echoed in her head, and the day continued to pass with agonizing slowness.
That evening, she joined in to eat at a more normal time, though she pressed herself against the stony wall in a tight corner, intentionally avoiding Joshua when she saw him. Daniel didn't appear at all, which wasn't unusual. Picking at her meal, she allowed herself to tune out the dozens of conversations around her, leaving her deaf to the sound of approaching boots.
"Is now later?" the Courier asked.
She turned to look at them in brief confusion, taking in the way they stood over her with a portion of fish.
"Huh?" she asked before the question truly registered. "Oh! Yes. Now is later."
She felt more eager than she ever had before to learn what a place outside New Canaan or Zion might be like as a place to live. Maybe that "itch" they'd mentioned was contagious.
"Great." they said, tossing themselves down beside her and practically inhaling about half the meat in a blink. "So, you wanted to know about Vegas? You thinking about visiting?"
There was a little fleck of white meat stuck to the corner of their mouth, and her eyes refused to leave the spot.
"Uh, maybe, yeah." she said, wiping at the corner of her own mouth and letting out a quiet sigh of relief when they followed suit.
"Well, it's a cool place, all things considered." they replied, leaning back onto their hands and staring at her. They seemed to be taking a break from their meal.
Penny gulped, suddenly nervous as she tried to formulate her first query.
"So...do you have family there? A...partner, or anything?" she fumbled, grabbing for the first thing she could think of that was at least socially acceptable and still mucking it up.
They grimaced, but in a playful, warning way.
"I do better if the questions aren't about me." they said.
She shrugged.
"Fair." she said, knowing she wouldn't want to answer, either. "Is it neat, Vegas? Seems different from most places I've heard about."
This sounded distinctly uncultured as it hit her ear, but they didn't seem to mind, or even register it.
"There are a lot of neat things about it, sure." they told her. "Lots of things I'd change, too, but nowhere is perfect."
"That's true." Penny agreed. "What sort of things do you deliver for your job? You work for the mail service, right?"
"Yeah, that's what I was doing before I came here. All kinds. Letters, packages, the occasional robot or things like that. You know."
"Sounds—" she began, but she quickly cut herself off when she realized she was about to be very rude.
The Courier laughed, though, obviously seeing right through her attempt at reclaiming tact.
"...boring?" they asked, a sly grin painting their face.
"I wasn't going to say that exactly..." she insisted, eyeing the ground.
"Don't worry. No offense taken." they chuckled. "And yeah, it certainly can be boring, but that's not the worst thing a job can be these days."
As they spoke, they absentmindedly rubbed their hand over the scar that ran across their scalp.
"What do other people do for money? You know, besides, uh, gamble and deliver mail."
When she saw the glittering town in her mind, it was full of nothing but degenerate gamblers and the poor souls who tended to them, but the Courier didn't strike her as either type.
"Oh, lots of stuff. There's plenty of legitimate work for normal people, even in Vegas proper." they reassured, eyeing their plate. "Folks prospect for valuables on the outskirts, run storefronts. Sell food. People good with guns work as guards for the casinos, caravans, other groups. Lots of work in that—though, of course, it's dangerous, and some of the casinos work is a little less-than-legitimate. You can farm, but I'm not sure I'd recommend that path if asked, personally. Water's a bit scarce, naturally."
The redheaded scout nodded along as she took in the information, eyes absentmindedly scanning the remaining crowd of people eating until they landed on Joshua, who was watching them closely. Immediately, she turned her head away.
"What's the way back like? How long did it take you to get here when you came?" she asked, the questions flowing a bit easier.
They huffed carefully, as if releasing the steam they were generating by thinking. They wiped at their mouth. The other half of their cut of fish was gone.
"It took us a few weeks. Just shy of a month, I think, but we made quite a few stops along the way." they said, speaking just a touch softer when they brought up the deceased. "A smaller or more agile party would probably make it in two weeks, two and a half, depending on the weather."
Penny could feel eyes on the side of her face.
"Is it dangerous?"
"The terrain can be, but mostly if you're trying to bring wagons or guide brahmin, anything that can't move with any finesse. Some raiders. We ran into one ambush before the one we hit when we finally got here, but it was a piddly nothing. Still, having numbers didn't hurt in moments like that."
At the change in their tone, she thought to offer them the condolences she'd never really had the chance to, but the moment didn't feel right.
"But you think a small party would do okay?" she asked.
They nodded.
"Huh."
Her tone was growing hesitant as she continued to speak, but she pressed on. Something deep inside her wouldn't let her stop.
"Do...uh, do you think when you leave, I could go with you?" she asked. "You wouldn't have to take care of me or anything, I promise."
Their brow shot up in surprise, but they didn't seem shocked by any means. It hadn't been the most graceful of interrogations.
"Sure. I mean, I'm no trail guide, so we may get a little lost, but I always manage to find my way back. If you think you can stand my company for a couple weeks, I don't see why not. You're handy with that gun."
She was blushing already from forcing herself to ask what she really wanted to, and the heat intensified at the compliment.
"Thanks." she said.
"Of course," they continued. "We won't be able to leave until all this stuff with the White Legs is cleared up. So our timetable really depends on how all that shakes out."
Penny pressed her lips together into a thin line at the change in topic.
"I know. How do you think that's going to go?" she asked, suddenly fidgeting, unable to look at them. "You talk to them a lot about it."
They huffed and shrugged, shaking their head.
"I dunno. I don't think running's really the solution, but Daniel's pretty steadfast on that idea. Joshua, though...I think what he wants is too far." they said, their own gaze far away as they played with their hair again. "Wiping out the whole tribe can't be the only way to ensure the safety of the people here."
Penny's chest was instantly tight, her back ramrod straight as she bit down on her tongue. Her face was hot for a different reason.
"Ah. Well, I guess we'll see." she responded. "I think I'm gonna head to bed."
"Sure," they nodded, staring at her mostly full plate. "You gonna eat that?"
She shook her head, unable to look at them as she handed the thing over.
By the time she'd made it back to her quiet little space, she'd calmed herself somewhat, but she still squirmed as she lay on her bedroll, trying to force herself to sleep. No matter how final and serious "absolute destruction" had begun to sound to her recently, there was no way to remove the sting at the suggestion that her home deserved anything less than total justice. Her desire to wipe them from the face of the earth just like they'd done to New Canaan was righteous, she told herself for the dozenth time since she'd opened her eyes that morning.
A frustrated huff left her as she forced them shut again.
---
The cave that Joshua used for his work now that they'd mostly relocated north was much smaller than the Angel Cave the Dead Horses had offered him, but he made it work. One didn't need a palace-worth of room to maintain a few crates of guns and knives, he'd told himself. And truly, that's all they had; a little more than two dozen pistols, half as many rifles, and another crate or two of blades and smaller things used for man-to-man combat. It wasn't much by way of munitions for an army, but in capably trained hands and with God behind them, it would be enough. He was confident in that.
The White Legs woule be put down like dogs. He would see to it. The arrival of the Courier from the Mojave had reignited his confidence that this was God's will.
As he worked through maintaining the pistol in his hands, his sensitive ears picked up on the quick, insistent footsteps of someone on a mission, and one hand slipped down to where he kept his own .45 holstered at his hip. For several beats, he held his breath, eyes trained on the mouth of the cave.
His hand returned to his task when Daniel appeared.
"What did you do?" he demanded, approaching the desk.
Joshua finished with the gun in front of him and slid it in alongside its mates in the crate, withdrawing another before responding.
"You'll have to be more specific, Daniel." he said, measured.
His bearded colleague was already visibly seething, red from his hairline all the way down to the collar of his shirt.
"With Penny, Joshua." he clarified through clenched teeth.
His voice was louder than the older man would have liked, but quieter than he could have been, so he held his tongue about it. Again, he worked for a luxurious moment before speaking.
"I don't know what you mean. I haven't spoken to Penny in days." he replied simply, and it was the truth.
"Oh, don't play coy. You know exactly what I'm referring to, don't you?" Daniel shot back, tapping his foot in the dirt as he seemed to lapse into conversation with only himself. "Weeks ago. That day you went out after her and you both came back together...something happened. I knew I should have confronted you then, should have sent her away when my gut told me to, but..."
Joshua could feel his heart rate tick up a few beats. Things were getting too specific for his liking. He swallowed thickly.
"And what evidence do you have to support this claim?" he prodded, his tone unchanged.
There was a pause.
"She said so herself. Just a few minutes ago."
He leaned forward on his elbows, maintaining his cool facade.
"She said 'something happened'? Between her and I, specifically?"
Daniel leaned in right back.
"She wasn't keen to go into details. She was embarrassed." he said, each word dripping with disgust.
A small smirk broke across his face, obscured by his wrappings.
"Ah. So you have no evidence." he said dismissively. He swallowed again, easier this time, and set to work again. "If Penny's ashamed about something she's done, she should go to the Father. That has nothing to do with me."
Daniel spat in anger.
"You're sick." he said through gritted teeth. "You know that? She's a child."
This statement was enough to get him to lift his gaze from the table again, smacking a magazine into place with a crisp clack.
"You infantilizing her doesn't make her a child, Daniel." he said, applying his most sickeningly patient tone, as if he were speaking to a child himself.
The younger man's balled fist came down hard on the makeshift tabletop, rattling one of the boards hard. Joshua didn't so much as blink, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
"Nor does you doing whatever it is you did to her make her a woman."
He set the weapon he was working on down carefully, clasping his wrapped hands thoughtfully as he made hard eye contact with the man standing across from him. The tension in the room was thick.
"Are you protecting her, Daniel?" he asked, a tinge of mocking coloring his words. "From who? Herself? Do you think you can do that?"
Daniel was so red it might have been concerning if he weren't antagonizing him purposefully.
"I'm protecting her from you."
Joshua chuckled, a dark, unfamiliar sound.
"I haven't done anything to Penny that she didn't want me to do. That's the truth, no matter what you choose to be upset about." he said with confidence, and the indignant look that spread across Daniel's features in reply was just delicious.
"I'm telling her she's leaving." the brunet physician proclaimed, though the shakiness of his words betrayed his lack of conviction.
"Tell her whatever you like. Unless you're willing to take her to New Canaan yourself, she'll remain here, and I'm inclined to support that action."
"You'd do that?" he asked, his eyes wide in horror. "Keep her here knowing it's not safe? Ruin her life for your own satisfaction?"
"I can't ruin her life any more than you can, Daniel." Joshua replied, back to making continued, direct eye contact. "She's an adult, and a capable pair of hands, besides. She makes her own choices, whether that be to take a man's life, to indulge in sins of the flesh, or whatever else she might do. Maybe if you'd ever known the companionship of a woman, you'd understand what I mean."
Daniel had already turned to storm away before he finished getting his jab in, making it much less satisfying than he'd hoped. The silence he was left behind in crept up on him slowly, like a cold chill seeping into his bones. Typically, he could hear other members of the tribes working and socializing not far away, but there was nothing, nothing but complete quiet to distract him, left alone with his own words and the thoughts he'd been trying to avoid.
He allowed himself the indulgence of a heavy sigh as he set back to his task, but he'd only made middling progress by the time he felt compelled to rise to his feet. Before he could stop himself, he began strutting back and forth along the length of the cave. Ever since he was a boy, he'd been prone to pacing like a caged animal when feelings of nervousness needled at his raw nerves. He hated it.
When he was unable to stop, he closed up the boxes of weapons and left to wander a bit. Taking in the views of Zion, seeing the beauty God was capable of creating, never ceased to calm him. The hit of nicotine from the one of the cigarettes he kept in his pocket during more stressful times calmed him more.
When he'd climbed as high as he could into the rocky, jagged bluffs, he sat down to finish his smoke, his knees and hips aching as he lowered himself onto a stump. Staring, unseeing, at the horizon, he turned the conversation between him and Daniel over in his mind.
Joshua's bluster had been confident enough to fool him, but, in truth, he wasn't completely convinced that the young scout would ultimately stay put.
Though he'd never considered himself any sort of expert on interactions with the fairer sex, he was long enough in the tooth to have learned a thing or two about them in his day. Women, especially women like Penny, required a certain firm hand to guide their decision-making in the right direction without a great deal of headache. Daniel lacked that firm hand, which left the task to fall to him.
Of course, it would be easiest to get her to obey if she were his wife.
The prospect wasn't exactly fair to Penny, all things considered. His extensive injuries and his personal history aside, he wasn't as young as he once had been—sore, slowed, cantankerous even on a good day. There were times he felt years older than even his real age. True, he'd been largely forgiven as a returned prodigal son by the community before the tragedy, so there was very little by way of social faux-pas in the idea, even with the differences in their ages taken into consideration...unfortunately for him, the remaining members of the community were less than accepting.
There was the matter of whether or not she'd have him, as well, but he felt more confident in that arena. He didn't allow himself to dwell on how much of a violation it might be to take advantage of her long-standing admiration for him. It was impossible for him to not see, to not think about that look she would give him, like her whole world hung on his next word.
She was so beautiful ever since she'd fully grown into a woman, as well. He'd be a fool to not take her as his if the opportunity presented itself, even if the idea of truly tying her to him kicked up feelings of worry for her. Though he tried his best to not think of their encounter near the outer edge of the park, the image of her pale, soft skin in his hands as he rubbed himself against her was clear as day in his mind.
A sigh escaped his uncovered lips, smoke disappearing into the air as his cock began to stir. He tucked the butt into his pocket and made his way back to camp.
That evening, he dined alone, taking a break from discussing plans for the upcoming move on the White Legs with Daniel, who was conspicuously absent, and the Courier, who opted to sit with Penny against the wall. Since their appearance, he'd been more than a bit fixated on them and the perfection of the timing of their arrival. They were their deliverance, the missing piece of the puzzle. He knew it.
There were moments where he envied Daniel in his ability to be consistent in his application of their faith, something he'd had since he was a young man. Joshua himself was more than familiar with the tests of that faith the world was more than eager to provide, and had always admired—albeit, in an entirely begrudging way—his ability to weather through those tests. But more and more in recent months, that envy and admiration had morphed into pity. Both men knew what had to be done, but only one of them was strong enough to face the truth.
Their faith did not disallow righteous violence, and the younger man was just as aware of that fact as Joshua. Daniel simply didn't have the guts. Their newest arrival didn't seem as hesitant to do what was needed.
No matter how much he appreciated the Courier's presence, however, he couldn't help but notice how deep the conversation the two appeared to be having was. Penny would speak, and then nod along as the Courier seemed to reply at length, back and forth for quite a while. The young redhead's face was full of thought, and something in his gut told him he knew what she was thinking about. At one point, she scanned over the crowd and her eyes landed on him. She turned her head away haughtily.
Joshua gnawed at his scarred lower lip.
He went to her that night after everyone had turned in. She'd taken to sleeping off on her own in recent weeks, which he imagined had something to do with how tired she seemed whenever he happened to see her. Quiet as possible, he crept up on her bed roll, where she was laid out on her side.
"Penny," he said quietly.
Though she jumped visibly at the sound of his voice, and even began to stir, her eyes didn't open. Her wild copper hair was plastered to her cheek, and he reached out and brushed some of it away.
"Penny. Wake up."
"Huh?" she said, jolting awake.
"Come with me," he commanded.
It didn't take long for her to pull her boots on and follow him out of camp, though she seemed both groggy and perturbed as they made their way back to the bluff he'd looked out over earlier. The two stood in appreciation of the landscape, washed pale and eerie by the unobscured light of the moon.
"It sure is pretty here." she said after a long minute, clearly looking for something to fill the silence.
"It is," he agreed, watching her closely.
"What did you...um...what did you want to talk to me about?" she asked, leaning against a tall pine.
"I want you to do something," he replied.
She snorted, rolling her eyes. He could feel his own narrow at the gesture, but quickly corrected.
"Oh? What's that?" she asked, dripping with sarcasm. "You need me to make sure there are enough bandages in the first aid kit for when we turn tail and run away? Or is that too much for me?"
Again, the insolent way she spoke to him made him purse his lips, but he swallowed the bile it brought up in the back of his throat and pressed on. There would be time for correction later.
"No." he went on. "I want you to stay. I want you to help us defend this place. Not just now, but in the future. We need you."
There was very evident surprise in her face, but she didn't react as strongly as he'd assumed she would. For a second, his heart rate ticked upwards. Her eyes were misty, and she dropped her chin towards the ground to hide the fact. For a moment, he stared at her, studying her posture. Carefully, he brought a bandaged hand to her cheek, wiping away an errant tear with his thumb.
"Do you mean it?" she asked, quiet, timid. His touch seemed to make her nervous, like a kicked pup. Her cheeks were tinged with a pink that he could make out in the dim light, stark against her ivory cheeks.
He nodded, but she still wasn't looking at him.
"I do." he promised, and he did. Running wouldn't help them, and they would need all the help they could get when it came to their final move on the White Legs. Penny was willing and she was capable. That was all that mattered.
He tried his best to avoid grinning wolfishly as she slowly, tentatively closed the few feet of distance between them, clasping her hands at her chest.
"Listen," she began. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about—"
Leaning close, he enveloped her delicate wrist in his grip. Her gaze met his, surprised and curious.
"Touch me," he ordered.
Her eyes went wide, that blush growing to envelop her whole face. The look was delicious.
"Go on." he goaded, keeping his voice steady and hushed. "You wanted my attention. Now you've got it."
Hesitantly, her hand wandered across the flat expanse of his padded chest, taking his command rather literally. One of his hands tugged it southward instead, until it was flattened over the growing bulge in his pants. He let out a sigh at the contact. It didn't matter how adamantly he told himself he wouldn't indulge in his worst desires; being alone with her, her being so vulnerable...it went right to his cock.
"Um," she said, petting at him awkwardly. He chuckled softly, reaching out to grab her by the belt and tug her closer to him.
"Like this," he explained, undoing the buckle and carefully sliding his hand into her jeans. The downy softness of her pubic hair giving way to the heat of her folds, combined with the sound she let out as he found her clit, made him growl.
"Oh," she groaned, truncated and throaty. Unconsciously, her hips began to move against his fingers, her eyelids lolling shut as he continued to touch her. His unoccupied hand moved down to undo his belt and move his bandages out of the way, a prickly heat tickling up the back of his neck as he guided her touch to where he wanted it most.
"Yes," he breathed as her soft little hand wrapped around his erection. Her unpracticed grip was clumsy, and she struggled to find a rhythm of any sort at first, battling her clear embarrassment as well as the pleasure she was chasing. As the tightness in his own gut began to mount, his hips fucking into her hand, she began to match his movements, smart girl she was. He groaned again, pressing his lips against her temple.
He didn't mean to let things go so far. Despite the way every nerve in his body screamed that he might be struck down at any moment if he didn't stop, he couldn't pull away from her. She was so hot and slick against his fingers, and her own were gripping him with growing intensity. Worst of all, she only gravitated closer to him as she reached her peak, her head resting against his chest as she whimpered and bucked.
Biting his tongue until he could taste iron, he allowed himself to hold her close against him as he came undone.
---
Penny'd felt shaken as she and Joshua had walked back to camp, on-edge the entire rest of the day from what had happened. Her scouting yielded nothing, as she couldn't focus enough to properly do the job. The camp was abuzz with nervous energy; everywhere she looked, people were sharpening and cleaning weapons, packing belongings, making foods that would travel in bulk. Mothers soothed their children, sang to them, their eyes full of worry. She threw herself into every task she possibly could, working until the sun went down again.
Joshua had disappeared when they went separate ways at the mouth of the camp and didn't reappear all day. That fact was entirely unsurprising to her, yet prompted her to fixate even more on him and what he might be thinking than before. She thought just as much about him asking her to stay as she thought about them touching one another, how good it had felt. But that was on her mind, too.
As she was helping clean up in the kitchen area, a handful of the younger, but still fighting-age boys came to her.
"Daniel's leading the elders, children, and non-fighting women to safety tomorrow at first light." the oldest one, who was only maybe seventeen himself, told her. "He told me to ask you if you would be willing to come along with us and cover them from the back."
She sighed heavily.
"Yeah. I'll meet you first thing in the morning."
Once there were no more tasks to occupy her, she retired for the night. The heavy weight of disappointment and anxiety sat squarely on her chest as she drifted off, the night around her eerily quiet. Despite her nervousness, though, she slept a dreamless sleep, something that she hadn't known she needed so badly. The black, empty ether left her feeling more well-rested than she had in months.
When she rose, the sky was barely tinged violet by the encroaching twilight. She took some time to prepare her weapons and check her scant armor, but the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when she stepped out.
"Hey!"
When she turned, the Courier was standing in the middle of the path, wearing all the pieces of their own newly-reinforced armor. The hunting shotgun they'd found in the fishing lodge was strapped to their back, all shiny and cleaned.
"What?"
As they closed the distance between the two of them, Joshua appeared, cresting the hill behind them. He looked as usual, no extra armor, no weapons other than his .45 strapped in the same place as it always was.
"We're going to find Salt-Upon-Wounds." they said, their tone full of gravity. It sounded strange compared to the deep casualness they usually had about them.
"Oh." she replied, unsure of what else to say.
"Are you coming with us to find him, Penny?" they asked.
Her eyes met Joshua's almost instantly, and there was a long, quiet moment. Though he didn't move an inch, there was a look in his eyes she'd never seen before, an openness that might have been worry if one looked long enough.
"Well. Are you?" he asked.
Her heart kicked into double-time. It felt like her whole body might sink into the sandy soil and disappear, but after a deep breath, she still stood there. She tilted her chin upwards, clasping her hands to hide how they trembled.
"Let's go." she said.
The burned man's expression didn't seem to change, but his gaze softened as she fell in line with him, the Courier right beside her. As the sun began to rise, the three set off down the path towards their fate.
This amazing piece of Al and Cooper Howard by the always lovely @xenterra and voiced again by Ambrose Kincaid was inspired by a wonderful fic that I commissioned from @ghoulfuckersincorporated! They wrote such amazing dialogue that I NEEDED to hear it brought to life.
The fic is here and I’m so happy to be able to hire and interact with such talented creatives for my couple. 🥹💛 So thank you to you all again and to anyone who enjoys my silly ship!
Al and Cooper are such a fun pairing to write for. I'm looking forward to sharing more of their adventures soon, but it's soooo cool to get to hear dialogue I wrote fully voice-acted in the meantime!
Was asked to do a ranking of who would make a good sugar daddy. Decided the topic had more nuance than my regular ranking format could convey. Busted out the MS Paint. Please enjoy the fruits of my labor.
MEMO: Set, Ahzrukhal, Roy Phillips, Bert Gunnarsson, Joshua Graham, Edward Deegan, Ham, Gunther Jenkins, and Cooper Howard/The Ghoul are all *possessive breeders.
*finds an excessive amount of sexual satisfaction in the knowledge that they, personally, got you pregnant. Constantly touching you, showing you off. Sees your pregnant body as a big flashing neon sign advertising just how much you belong to them; after all, that's all anyone else sees when they look at you now. They've basically branded you in their own way, and it really, really turns them on.
could I possibly ask you for the ghouls’ reactions to a partner who’s clumsy? tripping on nothing, bumping into every surface in the room…
really just asking for Nick WHAT WHO SAID THAT THE WIND IS SO LOUD TODAY
thank you :D
Ranking Ghouls' Reactions to a Clumsy Partner
Thinks it's cute. Tries their best to make sure you don't actually hurt yourself. Barrett, Michael Masters, Quinn, Snowflake, Bessie Lynn, Tulip, Hadrian, Harland, Private Kyle Edwards, Edward Deegan, John Hancock, Wiseman, Daisy, Holly, Mort McCoy, Thaddeus
Accepts it as part of you. Worries about you. Is a good nurse when you get hurt. Harold, Doctor Barrows, Charon, Gob, Patchwork, Winthrop, Carol, Moira Brown, Bert Gunnarsson, Grecks, Jason Bright, Raul Tejada, Rotface, Calamity, Arlen Glass, Ham, Kent Connolly, Nick Valentine, Captain Zao, Oswald the Outrageous, Gunther Jenkins, Lucky Lou, Cooper Howard
Finds themselves occasionally annoyed by it. Ahzrukhal, Mister Crowley, Murphy, Roy Phillips, Nurse Graves, Greta, Willow, Andy Scabb, Joshua Graham, Dean Domino (though he also sometimes thinks it's funny when you fall), Beatrix Russell, Keely, Sinjin, Tommy Lonegan, Vault-Tec Rep, Bobbi No-Nose, Trish, The Ghoul
Probably wouldn't date a massive klutz. Something about it annoys them. Set, Desmond Lockheart (yet another thing he berates you for), Eddie Winter, Dierdre
This is more of a question about the blog itself, but why do you include certain non-ghoul characters? Most notably Joshua Graham and Nick valentine. I know their kinda ghoul looking but they aren't ghouls.
Just a genuine question, I love both of those characters very much.
I assume this is mostly referring to the rankings. I actually just answered this question about Joshua a couple weeks ago, but to make it short: it's a personal headcanon of mine that he's either already a ghoul or in the middle of becoming one. I think it lends credence to him surviving his incident and being able to get up and walk away.
When it comes to Nick, it's more of an issue of knowing I don't care about enough synth characters to do a separate synth ranking, and I know people would want to know how he would respond to all the prompts I do for the rankings because he's one of the most popular non-human companions in the entire franchise. So he just sort of gets wedged in there.
any chance of us getting Edward Deegan fluff my liege? 👀
Say less! I love my man. Decided to go with some headcanons here, because the third installment in A Visit Between Friends is gonna be mostly fluff (with notes of angst and smut, obviously; it's still me we're talking about). You will eat well, I promise. Spoilers: we're heading to Sanctuary. Who doesn't like a road trip?
Edward Deegan (Fallout 4) Fluff Headcanons
At his core, Edward is pretty old-fashioned (remember, he was in his fifties when the bombs fell), just in more benign ways than some men might be. His idea of what his part in a romantic relationship should be is very much the "traditional male role"; he brings in money, pays for things, offers you a place to live that he maintains. He protects you. When it comes to household requirements like cooking and cleaning, he obviously has no problem doing them, but those other things are duties you'd see him really protest if you tried to take them away from him. I know this is a bit of a trigger/red flag phrase for most people these days, but he's very much a true "provider". When it comes to his partner, he's much less strict about them adhering to those same sort of gender roles, though. It's about his view of himself, not what he thinks you should be.
Him being the way he is makes him a massive sugar daddy-type, just as eager to impress you with material things as with smaller, sweet gestures. Huge gift giver and starts early on. Like I've mentioned with Quinn from Fallout 3, he's very prone to going to great lengths to find something you're asking for/something he suspects you'd really like, even if it's rare. He doesn't give gifts expecting to get laid, but he certainly has noticed that coming onto the scene with presents doesn't decrease his odds.
Protective to a fault at times. Part of it is because, like I said, much of his identity is tied up in being that protector/provider type. He tries his best to not be outright possessive, as he knows he's prone to it and has the wisdom to know it causes issues, but sometimes he just can't help himself. Put him in a tight enough spot and he'll outright forbid/stop you from doing something if he thinks it's too dangerous. He'd rather you be mad at him than be dead.
Very much a "parallel play" sort of person when it comes to a lot of the day-to-day time you spend together as a couple. He's constantly working on something, so he's perfectly content to have you nearby reading a book or working on a project of your own. Happy to have you help him out with whatever he's working on, but he tries his best to not utilize you as labor unless you volunteer and insist. Something about it feels crass to him. He does, on occasion, take real leisure time, and he's much the same then.
Has a very strict bedtime routine once the two of you are living together. You will be coming to bed at least twenty minutes early so this man can cuddle you and play with your hair (should you have any) after he has his shower, no arguments.
Edward has endless patience for the people he cares about the most. However, that same patience does not exist for people he doesn't care about. You will absolutely see him talk crazy to someone or outright threaten them if they piss him off enough, and even if it's completely justified, you will be surprised. He's nothing but sweet and soft with you, so it's sometimes a little strange to see how he can be with people he doesn't like. Odds are incredibly slim on this man ever raising his voice to you.
