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#jericho fo3
everydayyoulovemeless · 5 months
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The reaction of the companions of fo3 to the fact that they are in love with Lone Wanderer? Please 🙏
Fo3 Companions Realizing They're In Love With Lone
➼ Word Count » 0.7k ➼ Warnings » Age Gap ➼ Genre » Romantic, Pinning
Charon opts to ignore it. He's got a job to do and is bound by contract. His feelings don't matter for this transaction to work and now is no different. Despite it all, he can't help but notice how much more inclined he is to be of service to you — always offering to take the night shift, or more aware of his surroundings than he normally would be. He's never been so fond of the person holding his contract and it makes him feel so conflicted. What would you say? Would you sell him off if you found out? He's a ghoul, for Godsake, what 19-year-old teen would want him?
Clover isn't sure how to act, so she'll act in the only way she's known how — sexually. She'll run her hands across your shoulders and whisper lowly into your ears just so she can get the message across to you, but in all honesty, she truly isn't sure what it is she feels for you. It'll take he a minute to sit down and think everything over before she comes to the realization that she's in love with you. Once she figures it out, she'll tone her erotic actions toward you down, opting to instead bring you flowers, or clean up around your home. She tries to mimic you in how you treat her, hoping that it'll eventually make you feel the same for her as she does you.
Star Paladin Cross feels a bit conflicted about her feelings for you as you're the kid she helped escort to the vault. She's well aware of her body modifications and the sheer age gap between you two and would, therefore, try to extinguish these feelings at all costs. You two weren't meant to be together, and she needs to get a grip before this turns into anything more than you and her being comrades.
Jericho doesn't care if you catch on to how he feels or not, he'll just pin you up against a wall and try to get you flustered. This has always been his way of showing someone that he's interested in them and he'll stick with this method until you say something about it. He's constantly in your face — whether he be throwing his arms around you or squishing your cheeks between his fingers. He loves the way you swat at him and the cute way you roll your eyes at his antics, however, he doesn't realize that he's in love until you get injured badly. Then reality will hit him and he'll (slightly) drop his douchy act and make an actual attempt at wooing you.
Butch tries to play it off and act the same as he always has, but every time he's around you he can't help but fall into a blushing, flustered mess. He's a teenager who's never actually been in love before, and he hates every second of it. Who do you think you are anyway? Walking around as if you're blissfully unaware of his feelings toward you. He gets meaner towards you — teasing you more often and tripping you whenever the chance arises — but it's only to help try and mask his intentions. He'll only put the pieces together when someone else tries to flirt with you, then he'll pull his pocket knife out, scare the guy off, and go right back to how he was before — a bumbling mess.
Fawkes knew he loved you the second you broke him out of that vault, however, he's well aware of how he looks and would never dream of putting you into a situation like that, so he keeps it to himself. He'll be polite to you — always opening doors and offering to hold onto the heavier items and weapons you may possess, but that's the extent of it. He's older than you and would hate to hold you down in any way, so he'll love you from afar and risk his life for you any chance he gets. It's the only way he can think of to pay you back for being so kind toward him.
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danses-with-dogmeat · 10 months
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Choose a favorite character whose name starts with "J"!
(Or a character you just want to see me write for 😁)
If you have any questions on these characters, please feel free to ask!
And if you think of someone who's not listed here that you would like to see, feel free to add a name to the comments/reblogs!
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neutralgrey-fallout · 10 months
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Fallout 3 Writing Project: Ending Slides styled after New Vegas Part #1 of 2
Details: I tried to adhere strictly to only the choices you could make in Fallout 3. I wanted these ending slides to hopefully feel as well thought out as New Vegas' detailed endings, without diving into creating fan fiction that relies on content that doesn't exist. The one exception to this rule is for companions. Since Fallout 3 has no companion quests or trust buildup system of any kind, I thought it might be cool to change the companions' potential endings simply by how much time the player hypothetically invested in keeping them around.
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mirelurkmoment · 9 months
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playing fallout 3 mostly blind and I met this guy named Jericho who was rude to me for no reason and made me think of this meme
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fallout-new-mudkip · 1 year
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Fallout Companions in Hero Forge Day 19!
I've recreated our second favorite Fallout raider, Jericho!
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The only nice clothes he got was from Lone, who *probably* looted them off Mr. Burke...
Also made him an outfit for casual drinking at Moriarty's/Gob's, and gave him the Pre-war bonnet since he usually favors it in-game xD
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The hat version I originally made in 2021 glad it was still saved!
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stoat-party · 4 months
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Welcome to the wasteland, 19-year-old child! I guess you’ll be needing a partner in this dangerous wilderness, huh? Pick one:
Sketchy robot
Not technically a slave
Literal actual sexual predator
no this one is really a slave, yeah she’s being held against her will
Hypercompetent family friend [YOU HAVE NOT ACCRUED ENOUGH TRAUMA TO UNLOCK]
Guy you’ve known your entire life [YOU HAVE NOT ACCRUED ENOUGH TRAUMA TO UNLOCK]
Kind, helpful walking tank [YOU HAVE NOT ACCRUED ENOUGH TRAUMA TO UNLOCK]
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psykersomatic · 2 years
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valen-dreth · 19 days
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wait hehe i want a fo3 one too
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simplegenius042 · 4 months
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A very late WIP Wednesday
Tagged by @g0dspeeed @adelaidedrubman @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat and @cassietrn
Tagging @strangefable @carlosoliveiraa @shallow-gravy @minilev @wrathfulrook @josephslittledeputy @nightbloodbix @derelictheretic @deputyash @deputy-morgan-malone @inafieldofdaisies @ec-10 @ladyoriza @vampireninjabunnies-blog @voidika @onehornedbeast @thewanderer-000 @softtidesworld @snake-in-the-garden @corvosattano @henbased @neverthesameneveranother @chazz-anova and @strafethesesinners
Here are three WIPs, each from Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore and Life, Despair & Monsters. Read below the cut.
TW: Harsh and heavy cursing, mentioned/implied character and general death of NPCs (either it be a time loop or a cybernetic homicidal monster around nine or ten feet tall and very pissed off). Implied mentioned sexual content, mentions of abuse and fantastical racism (against ghouls, Jericho leave Gob alone!). Mentioned prostitution and fantasies of murder (illegal but understandable).
First WIP is for the time loop/"Groundhog Day" FC5 AU fic called You're Almost Like Family where the Seeds are stuck in a, well, time loop. And whenever Silva (or the Seeds themselves) die, well, the days are reset. Funniest part is, none of the Seeds know that they are all in a loop, just their individual selves. Snippet below:
[John] slammed the entrance to his chalet shut, causing the blonde figure sorting his papers in his lounge to jump. The documents slipped out of her hands as she stood up with a hand to a holster, only to calm down when she realized it was him.
Noticing that the reports laid scattered on the floor, Nadi gave him a stink eye, gesturing to the papers.
John would have been apologetic if he simply didn't have time for this. Ironic given the predicament he was stuck in.
Sooner or later, the Deputy is going to end up dead, and he'll be back at square one... again.
The thought reignited his frustration, but he reigned in enough to examine his number two.
Nadi was a loyal member of the project, more faithful than Jacob's hound, and while they did butt heads sometimes, he was grateful for her presence and for her strategic input. Admittedly, John knew that without her, the Deputy would have gotten to him sooner rather than later.
I would have preferred not to have to had died to appreciate it.
"Once you finish with those, come meet me upstairs in my bedroom. There's something I need to discuss with you," John ordered smoothly, making his way to the stairs.
He didn't notice the confusion etched on the blonde's face, for John was already making his way up the stairs to his room.
It's times like these I wish I could have a shot of tequila, he thought to himself, walking over to the open bedroom window and closing it shut, pulling the lock down.
Next, he grabbed a torch light and shined it at the closet. Hearing nothing, he walked towards it and opened the doors. Empty.
Finally, John turned off his torch, knelt down, and swiftly rolled it harshly under the bed. Hearing no grunts, he looked under.
She's not under there... good.
John exhaled a huff of air, and sat on the edge of his bed as he put his hands over his face.
It was exhausting. Though John knew by the end of today, or the next two if he was lucky, the Deputy would be killed by something or another and he would be back at square one, he really needed to figure out how to reach out to her, without being shot.
Going to her too early leaves her shooting first and questioning the morality of it never, and trying to go to her late only ends up with her being killed by whoever it is she seems to have evoked the wrath of. Not that he thinks she doesn't entirely deserve it.
He needed guidance, and from his last conversation with Joseph, his brother seemed content with sitting by and letting God do his work.
And he tried. To wait it out. To let God do His work. But if the sign that John seemed to be getting was that leaving the Deputy to her own accord only leads to her death, and back to the morning of Joseph's arrest.
And it wasn't like Jacob, or worse, Faith, were going to be helpful.
John had figured out quickly that his intervention was needed for the Deputy to even get through another day. And while the Father may not have understood what he told him, John deduced that this was a test from God.
A test against his sloth. A test towards his patience. A test meant to prove that John was worthy of entering Eden. And what better way than to save the life and soul of another? Especially one as sinful and wrathful as the Deputy?
Which is why he waits for the only other faithful member of the project, his trustworthy second-in-command.
A knock on the door shifted his thoughts to the matter at hand, and he made his way to the door.
Opening it, Nadi stood there, the blond looking at him with expecting brown eyes.
John pulled her inside, earning a yelp from the young woman, and closed the door behind her.
Here's a WIP for a collection of short fics from different character perspectives throughout my Fallout fic series A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore. It is still under heavy editing, but I've got a good grasp on where to take it. Snippet below:
In the five of the twenty four hours she's been awake, Nova had expected more-or-less the same day as before.
Walking around and offering her body to anyone who came into the saloon had not been a life she pictured for herself as a little girl, but it was one that paid well.
Well, it would have been if Moriarty didn't continue to take a cut of her and Gob's pay any time a customer gave them a generous donation.
That and the amount of times Moriarty had utilized her services with no intention of paying her, but she supposed it was a better alternative to being kicked out of Megaton. Given Moriarty still had that power.
She drew in the smoke from her cigarette, and surveyed from her post as Gob gave another orange bottle of whiskey to Jericho, the ex-raider sneering at the ghoul, his disgust evident all over his face.
Thankfully he didn't make a scene, slamming the small bag of caps on the counter as he left through the door.
Gob stared at the bag, string noose tied tightly around the bag, not immediately grabbing it. Nova could take a guess that Gob was lamenting over the debts that he owed Moriarty. Debts both the prostitute and the ghoul bartender wordlessly knew their boss was unlikely to pay.
Gob snapped out of it though, giving a miserable sigh, and dragging the bag away from the counter for Moriarty to pocket later, turning his attention to the damn radio that never seemed to play at the right time.
It pained Nova to see Gob like this. He was a real sweetheart with shitty luck, and she knew that the only upsides in his life were the hope of one day paying off his debts, however unlikely that was, and the Gravity News Radio host screaming out "fighting the good fight", whatever that entailed.
She was also painfully well aware of his crush on her.
Though she never had minded his appearance to the point she'd hang out with him in public, given how much she knows the ghoul is actually a decent guy, she had her limits, which was rare given her current standing under Moriarty.
She hoped he could find some semblance of happiness, whether that be with a person or a life long after Moriarty was rotting in the ground. But it wouldn't be with her.
If things were different though...
Nova looked away from Gob, shaking the thought away. It didn't matter on the what ifs, right now she had a job to perform.
She could ponder a different time.
Just as Gob began to smack the radio, a risky action given Moriarty's repeated threats on treating his property harshly, the saloon door creaked open, and Nova spotted two teens enter. One male, the other female. Both wearing what appeared to be blue jumpsuits with the numbers "101" imprinted in yellow on their backs.
Nova eyed them both. The young man was of average build, short auburn hair cut neatly with a few strands springing out from the harshness of the wasteland most likely, and light brown eyes on the lookout for anyone and anything.
The young woman on the other hand had dark hair tied in a pony tail, was a little chubbier than her counterpart, and her hazel eyes were more focused, trying to narrow down a specific person.
They glanced back to the door, whispering amongst themselves, though not too quiet that she couldn't catch their words.
Amongst the harsh gravel Gob spat out at the poor radio, and the chatter amongst the patrons, Nova could decipher the words "here" "back outside" and "think she'll stay?" in hushed voices.
And finally Jennifer putting murder on her mind to the back burner as she remembers to drop, duck and cover my WIP of Sonya's Push. Snippet below:
Breathing heavily as she pushed her way through the audience as they gazed upon the newest arena fight between beasties, the bruises formed from her fight with Malvolio's bitch protesting against her movements.
The blonde looked back to the closed elevator door on the other side, paranoid that Malvolio's Beastie would burst through at any moment.
The speed of it had been abnormal, disappearing in a blink and being nothing more than a flicker of movement when it had slid down to the hall. The movement of its tail daggers swift and deadly, like her own claws. The red in its one eye, more robotic than flesh.
Why had Dicko approved such a thing? It barely counted as a beastie with the mass of metal it was made of! Jennifer huffed, and around the arena, looking pass the patrons in search of Dicko.
Her blue eyes spotted the Englishman on a lower circle, himself seated down on his VIP sofa that she once shared with him, disheveled but celebrating his escape with a glass of disgusting champagne, like the pig hadn't just left her to die to that one-eyed mech of a beast. As if the reason it was free in the first place wasn't because he allowed his creep of a "buddy" onto his premises, or the fact Sir Enigma might be a fucking alien in addition to a Darwinist with no care for the fact "handing control" did not mean "releasing the Beastie from its brainwashing bullshit".
She felt the razor claws pushing through her fingertips as she glared at the man from across the arena, anger and betrayal clouding her mind.
Those fantasies of killing him while in his bed resurfaced, and she oh so wanted to enact them now, with the sofa as an acceptable exception.
She wanted to get her claws through his throat before the Beastie could make its way down to the arena. She tried to move pass the cheering audience, making her way around to the other side to get to the stairs.
However much she tried though, a block of people just refused to move aside, and she was tempted to slice her way through if it weren't for the guards.
Ding!
...Or the faint noise of the elevator door that echoed throughout the arena, deaf to everyone but her.
Frozen in place as she looked back, trying to get a glimpse of the beast that would no doubt tear them apart.
She pushed people aside to get a solid look. Enough people disbanded to show the doors opening to reveal the empty box of the elevator.
Jennifer's face scrunched in confusion, mouth gaping open and shut, lips stinging as the cut on her upper lip made contact with her bottom one. She desperately searched for any sign of the beast, the monster made of steel, the relentless creature that stalked and hunted her not moments ago.
Upon still seeing nothing, she let out a mirthless laugh as she turned her back to the elevator, shaking her head as she focused her attention on Dicko once more, the man a ring below talking with one of his guards.
It was with this focus that she noticed a... shift on the stone barriers that kept the audience at bay.
Large spots on the stone cracked, small dusts of powder dropping down as an unseen pressure was placed on the stone. She saw more of this dust from the next ring up, and then the next, and the next.
Up and up and further up until it stopped at the final ring. Then dust slowly dropped down from the roof, unbeknownst to the audience too invested on the violence happening between the two wild beasties below them. Not that the fight between those Beasties were anything special unlike what she saw from her hunter mere hours ago.
Jennifer felt some familiarity with this, words exchanged to her by the madman who released the Apex from its prison, a far too fond explanation on how the creature could "rush so fast it would be merely a flicker to the human eye!"
"...Or match its environment to disappear right before you," Malvolio explained, grinning at her with all his teeth.
Jennifer's eyes widened as she barely registered the outline of the beast that had adjusted its steel to uncloak itself while hanging from dark and dank ceiling. Red optic looking down to the cheers in the rings and the Beasties fighting under it.
She saw the tail split in three, and immediately followed her gut by making distance from the open space of the barriers.
She had just dropped flat onto the floor to curl up and cover her head when the she heard the wind and patron's necks crack in one simultaneous whoosh.
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grumpymirelurkqueen · 6 months
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Hi, can I request a fallout 3? Companion reaction to the LW with good karma.
Hi, you're my first Fallout 3 request. You have no idea how happy I am to write this for my favourite companions. Thank you very much for your request. I hope you enjoy it. And sorry for my English mistakes, it's not my mother tongue…
FO3 companions react to LW with good karma:
Butch :
He's not surprised, I mean, you grew up together. You always protected Amata when he was a little shit. But he's grateful you got him out of the shelter before he really went off the deep end. Although he's very embarrassed by that. He's never really been a good person, but he's never been a bad one either. He's not a monster, just an immature young adult.
Sergent RL-3 :
A soldier has to be good, but also firm. My God this poor old robot is torn in two. Your dynamic is like the bad cop and the good cop. If he were human and could drink whiskey, he'd drink to every good deed.
Fawkes :
The one who is most proud of you, of all the companions. Seeing you protect those who can't, killing villains, or recovering children kidnapped by his brothers. That's what warms his mutant heart. He'll congratulate you, give you advice and, above all, say what he thinks about the situation and you. But if your karma goes lower and lower, he'll be disappointed but won't tell you. After a while he'll ask you if you're doing well mentally. He's afraid he hasn't seen any clues. He will stay with you for a while once the karma is bad, but will leave with a heavy heart.
Paladin Cross :
She's happy to be travelling with you, finally someone good in this world. But she doesn't say it openly, a pat on the back. Is the only thing to congratulate you. But if you have to lose your karma, secretly she will be disappointed (depending on your level of relationship with her.). But above all she'll go back to the citadel without a word and with a sad heart for having believed in Father Christmas.
Jericho :
The most hostile of them all. If he wasn't in Megaton, he'd accept a lot of capsules to put a bullet in your head. But somehow he understands that you're not witty enough to be mean.
Clover :
Compared to Jericho, she won't be too hostile towards you. She'll just be disappointed by your behaviour, believing she's found a new dictator with troubled tendencies. She'll just be bitter with you. But she'll still fall in love with you somehow.
Charon :
Charon doesn't give a fuck about your karma. But my God, it feels good not to kill women and innocent children or to put a bullet between the eyes of a simple drunken traveller for Ahzrukhal. But sometimes he's a bit scared of your kindness, he tends to prefer someone neutral or openly nasty. For him, kindness means hiding. And he doesn't want to discover your inclination if you're a fake.
Dogmeat :
This good dog doesn't care about your karma. He'll always be with you, as long as you don't mistreat him or betray his trust in you. A bone, a corpse, a fight plus a caress to congratulate him and he'll be fine. He'll be loyal to you with any kind of karma.
ᴵᵗ'ˢ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵗʳᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᴰᵒᵍᵐᵉᵃᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ ᶜᵃⁿⁱᵍᵒᵘ.
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thefalloutwiki · 7 months
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Fallout 3: Jericho
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“Oh, look. Another one of your pampered vault assholes. Look here, vault asshole I don't like you. Stay clear of me and we'll have no trouble.”
- Jericho, Fallout 3
You can read more about Jericho, a former Raider and recruitable companion, here:
https://fallout.wiki/wiki/Jericho_(Fallout_3)
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everydayyoulovemeless · 6 months
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Fo3 Companions Living in Megaton With Lone
➼ Word Count » 0.6k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic
Charon doesn't really have much of an opinion on the matter. If this is where you want to live, then this is where he'll follow you. Moira is always stopping by to ask if he could grab her something in a place that's just a bit too irradiated for her to do it herself, so he eventually refuses to answer the door for you. He'll gladly do anything else though, and he's not picky about the decor.
Clover doesn't mind, wherever you go, she'll go. She likes arranging things around the house and putting flowers in vases and whatnot. She does her best to keep the place as clean as possible and, although she covered him in graffiti, gets along decently well with Wadsworth. Moriarity will definitely try to manipulate her into some sort of contract so that he can have another "worker" alongside Nova, but other than having to keep an eye on her, she's easy to get along with.
Living in Megaton reminds Star Paladin Cross about when she escorted James here 19 years ago. It makes her feel slightly nostalgic being here again after all that time and seeing all the different changes that have been made. She doesn't mind how you decorate it and is happy with whatever as long as she's allowed to have a weapons workbench in one of the corners. She and Jericho might get into a few altercations from time to time, and she's always telling you about her gripes with Nathaniel, but she has enough manners and self-control to refrain from street fights. (more so for you're sake than hers).
Jericho is the trashiest roommate on this list, he doesn't even bother throwing things away. He'll just pile garbage into a corner until you decide you'll throw it out. The good news is, none of your neighbors are going to be trying anything with you since you're living with the town's local raider. Jericho also frequently gets into arguments with Wadsworth and eventually just locks him in a cage upstairs, so you can forget about having a butler helping you pick up all the junk he leaves around the place.
Butch will beg on bended knees for you to pay for the wasteland explorer theme for the house. Nothing would make him happier than having Moira wheel a motorcycle into the house. Overall, he's a decent roommate. He'll leave a mess in the living room and leaves his clothes everywhere, but other than the average frat boy shenanigans (expect there to be beer bottles everywhere), he's not so bad.
Besides him accidentally breaking things, Fawkes is probably the best to live with. He keeps the place relatively clean, keeps people out, and is just an overall joy to be around. He's sweet to all of your neighbors, even if they're open about not wanting him around. In all honesty, he's just happy to be out of that vault. He'd be happy anywhere and he especially loves having his own little nook for him to read and study. Soon enough you'll have a live-in doctor.
Every day, RL-3 will wake you up early so that you can begin your 5 a.m. workout routine. There is no resting when the possibility of communists lurking is high. He'll keep you and the other residents in line. Megaton will have a competent police force in no time, but the locals are gonna be upset with how demanding and loud he can get. Some (Jericho) might even try scrapping him for parts.
You'll get no complaints with Dogmeat. Everyone loves him and the kids that run around are always playing with him. Moira might try to train him to get her things, but other than that, you'll have no issues living with him.
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Day 28 -- Jericho
The (nsfw) details for Kinktober, Day 28 are just below the cut!
Minors, please don't interact.
Grooming with Jericho x g/n! Lone
Man, oh man... something possessed me when I was writing this 😅 What can I say? Jericho is my guilty pleasure 😈
I hope you all like it! 😁
Here is the link to my Kinktober 2022 Event list so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.
Included: Grooming, praise kink, light corruption kink, dom/sub dynamics, blow jobs, face-fucking, come swallowing, gagging, breathplay (sorta), unhealthy relationships, toxicity, pet names, aftercare (but only a tiny bit).
2.8k words.
--
“No, no, kid. You’re doin’ it all wrong.” Jericho grasped at your hair firmly, pulling you back and roughly away from his half-hard cock. “What did I fuckin’ say about you using those little hands o’ yours, huh?” 
You bit your lip, eyes downcast and brows flinching from the sting in his voice. 
“You fuckin’ deaf?” 
You shook your head, moving your hands away from him and to the floor, where you slid them firmly underneath your shins, pinning them to the ground. 
“Good.” He gave you a single nod, his free hand reuniting the end of his cigarette with his lips. “Now, start again.” 
The fingers in your hair loosened, remaining against your head for guidance alone as you set your sights back between Jericho’s legs. 
“There it is.” He murmured as you skipped over your usual kitten licks, which only ever seemed to illicit a glare in the ex-raider, and straightaway wrapped your plush lips around his sensitive tip, hollowing your cheeks and sucking until you felt him begin to grow steadily against your tongue. 
You were rewarded with the sweet sound of Jericho’s throaty groan as you delved deeper, taking his mostly-hard cock to the back of your throat and only stopping when you felt you were about to gag. His eyes locked to yours, his dark, blown pupils meeting your teary, earnest gaze as your expression begged for his praise. 
It thrilled you like nothing else. Even his mouth on yours, his rough hands stroking over your sex, the filthy words he whispers against your ears, nothing riles you like the sound of his approval. It was so rare, you felt as though each word he said in favor of you would be his very last, but he relented just enough that deep inside, you knew that wasn’t the case. It stuck with you. When he was proud of you, when you did a good job, when you took him well, when you listened to him and followed his instructions, just the chance of hearing any of those simple words, and you were prepared to do anything. 
“Fuck,” he muttered, “I love that sound. When you choke on me.” 
He took a thoughtful puff of his cigarette and closed his eyes. 
“Do it again for me, sweetheart.” 
Your body shuddered at the way his words made your mind melt. You couldn’t deny him. Not anything. 
You pressed forward eagerly, even knowing the discomfort that was coming, you took him into your throat with enthusiasm, choking the instant the hot head of his cock grazed the back of your throat. A dry retching sound filled the room, followed by desperate slurping as you tried to control the flow of drool streaming to your chin messily, and Jericho sighed. 
“Just like that.” 
You smiled, even with his cock filling your mouth and throat lewdly, spittle spilling out the side of your lips, you smiled at his beaming words. You pulled back to breathe, sucking hard at the head of his cock and dragging your tongue over the tip, stimulating him as you found a moment of respite from the prodding, painful thrusts he asked you to perform.
“Still need some work though.” 
Your eyes widened as his hand gripped your hair tightly, shoving your face forward until he couldn’t shove anymore. You choked, stomach heaving as another pained noise left your throat around the crude appendage filling it so fully. Jericho didn’t relent this time, didn’t allow for your foolish respite. You could hear him now, without having to open his mouth, his message was clear. 
Your discomfort is what?
N-nothing. Sir. 
You heard the conversation in your head. As you always seemed to when put into these situations. It’d been early on in your arrangement. You wanted to learn, and damn, did he want to teach. Teach you how to be good. Good for him. You didn’t know quite why. Maybe he was persuasive, maybe he was intimidating, or maybe it was the thrill. The way his dominance made you feel safe, cared for, even in a brutal and controlling way. It felt good to let go. 
Nothing…? You heard him trail off expectantly in your mind.
Nothing compared to your pleasure. Sir. 
That’s it. Good boy/girl. 
You shuddered, as you always did, at the memory of it. It didn't matter if it was true or not anymore. Whether you suffered or not, as long as Jericho was happy, was pleased, so were you. It was even better than your own pleasure. 
His hand pulled back only an inch or so, pushing forward again with force behind it, the jab to the back of your throat causing tears to spring from your eyes and flow down your cheeks. He continued a few more moments, a few more thrusts, each gagging you and making your stomach muscles clench just as hard as the last. You could feel your own arousal burning in your core. 
On the next push into your throat, you choked, and he stayed there, his hand holding firmly to the back of your head as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and tapped it at the ashtray on the table beside him. 
“Look at me, kid.” You opened your streaming eyes, oblivious to the fact you’d even closed them. 
This is why you need him. A voice echoed off the walls of your mind. 
He looks out for you. He rights your wrongs. He makes you better. The best version of yourself you can be. 
You nodded subconsciously, the motion pressing the head of his dick further into your throat than you ever thought he could go, and he held you there. 
“Now, swallow.” 
Your eyes widened as panic rose in your chest. 
H-how? 
Your eyes seemed to plead with him for the answer, and Jericho only tutted his tongue, placing his cigarette back between his lips. 
“You can swallow around my dick, sweetheart. You think I’d ask you to do it if it were impossible? Just gotta try it.” 
Determination swirled in your belly at his words. 
He’s right. He’d never ask me to do something impossible. Depraved, maybe. Painful. But not impossible. He wants to make me better. 
I can trust him.
Your eyebrows drew together, and your throat flexed, but all you managed was another gag. Another pained sound left you as you tried again, as you tried and failed to swallow around the thick girth inside you. 
Is he sure it’s possible?
You doubted briefly, fresh tears flowing down your cheeks at another failed attempt. 
Jericho groaned at the pressure around him, each painful gag stimulating his cock deliciously and pulling those lovely sounds from you, pulling more drool and tears to muss your face and make you look as depraved as he aimed to make you. 
“Better figure it out quick, sweetie. ‘M not lettin’ you up to breathe ‘til you do it.” 
Your heart pounded in your chest, lungs beginning to burn as panic rose within you. Another try, another failure, another gag. Your body heaved, starved lungs trying to pull breath through your nose, but he was too far down your throat for that to be an option. You tried again, sputtering, mind going fuzzy with the lack of oxygen to your brain, and you became desperate. You choked on your own drool as you tried to breathe around the blockage in your mouth and throat, your vision blurring slowly to black as your chest heaved for air. 
“C’mon. Told you you could do it.” Jericho’s voice sounded through the darkness clouding your vision. 
“You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you, angel?”
One more renewed charge of electricity drove through your bones, your muscles, and cleared your vision, gave you strength enough for one last attempt, and you were successful. Jericho grunted as your throat constricted around his length, the rough walls of your esophagus massaging the tight skin of his cock without that telltale jerk of your gag reflex. His hand loosened, and your head shot backwards, stimulating his length still as he was dragged out of your throat and mouth, until only the tip of his glistening cock remained on your lips. 
His dick twitched at the feel of your hot, stuttering breaths over him, lungs gulping cold air painfully through your ravaged throat. 
Your eyes were still on his, tears streaking down your reddened face and spittle still connecting your mouth to his cock where he pulled his hips and it settled in front of you. Jericho’s lips spread to a half-smile, his hand stroking gently over your hair as he looked down at you in approval, his bobbing cock twitching with the same such praise his eyes were delivering. 
He said nothing, but reached for the cigarette in his mouth, putting it out in the ashtray as he relaxed further into his chair. His dark eyes looked at you pointedly, and just as your breaths began to even out, you felt his hand pressure the back of your head again. 
You nodded once, a small smile at your glistening lips, and took him into your mouth again. His cock was shockingly cold against your tongue, the cool air clinging to the wetness before it delved back into your hot mouth. You worked him as you did before, sucking harshly and hollowing your cheeks, before taking him to the back of your throat. Dragging your tongue at the underside of his shaft distractingly, you mentally prepared to dutifully swallow over him again, remembering the look of satisfaction on his face as your vision vignetted and you finally were able to do as he pleased. 
You wanted that again. 
You needed it. 
Even if it meant you choking a dozen times, suffocating yourself to the point of losing consciousness, you needed it again. 
It was dangerous to crave someone's approval so much, you knew, but even that knowledge didn’t make that utter need for it stop. It was like a drug. No, it was stronger. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you pushed forward, taking him all the way into your throat, and swallowed. Or… tried to. You gagged again, and heard Jericho release a dry chuckle above you. 
Determined, brows furrowed, you pressed even further, until your nose was flush to the bed of curls on his pubic bone, and constricted your throat around him again. 
“Fuck!” Jericho exclaimed, hand tightening– unwittingly this time– in your hair, as his hips bucked up at the feel of your throat clenching around him like a vice. You still coughed at the end, some spittle and Jericho’s salty pre-cum dripping down your throat, but you’d done it. The man above you sighed, pulling your head back and relieving the pressure, and you felt your stomach clench in pleasure at the sound of his contentment. 
Spurred on by your success, you pulled back only long enough to draw in another breath, before plunging down onto him, taking him deep and pressing your nose to his skin once more. You watched as Jericho’s head fell back in bliss, his foul mouth quieted not by a cigarette, but by the sheer pleasure your mouth was bringing him with each harsh suck, each tender lick and forced swallow around his imposing shaft, and you smiled around your mouthful at the sight. His hand was nothing more than a bit of support now, your head and neck moving freely to take him the way you knew he pleased, to show him that you were capable, that you listened, that you were good. Good for him. Would always be good for him. 
No one could bring him pleasure like you could, no one could care that much, could make him the center of their world like you could– like you did. You had to make sure Jericho would never forget that. Just as you needed him, you’d make it so it was always the other way around too. 
Jericho was getting close to his end. He was giving off the signs that you’ve come to be so familiar with. His cock pulsed heavily on your tongue, the noises spilling from his throat were gruff and guttural, his free hand reached down to join the other on the back of your head, his contact there becoming firmer, more commanding, as his hips started to buck his cock more forcefully into your throat. You whined around him, the sound sending vibrations through to where your lips squeezed at the base of Jericho’s pulsing member, and you felt your tongue begin to tingle with anticipation. 
You knew not to beg, not unless Jericho asked you to, but it was becoming more and more difficult not to make your desires transparently plain. Your hips wriggled beneath you restlessly as you felt your own arousal building in your gut, your desperation palpable with each whine, each caress of your tongue against the slit of his cock, beckoning for his release to spill into your mouth. To finally taste the delectable liquid praise of your efforts. Your body was crying out for him, as it did damn near every day, aching for his approval with each harsh thrust that had your nose squishing at the pressure against his pelvic bone, that had his balls slapping against your drool-soaked chin, that had your eyes watering and your throat clenching around him. 
He was bucking his hips wildly now, grinding the head of his cock into your throat with no time for you to swallow, or even gag around him, and all you could do was sit and wait patiently for him to find his pleasure in the warm confines of your mouth. He used you like some toy, both hands clasping at the back of your head, dragging you into him as his hips thrust up and out of his chair, moving faster and firmer with each passing moment, until he finally ceased his movement, pushing as far down your throat as he could. He held you there as you felt his cock pulse, shooting warm strings of viscous release straight down your throat. 
Jericho let out a guttural groan from above you, and you closed your eyes in bliss, reveling in the feeling of his seed filling you, the sound of his pleasure, the feel of his balls tightening against your chin with each spurt into your mouth. 
His groan dissolved to a sigh as Jericho’s hands loosened their grip on you, allowing you to pull far enough back for him to spill onto your tongue, for you to taste him as he pulsed out the last of his spend. You savored your reward, a hazy grin spreading across your face as he pulled back far enough for his cock to pop out of your mouth. 
Your jaw ached, your throat was sore and raw, eyes red, chin covered in snot and drool and cum, but you found yourself smiling happily at your success. He’d asked you to perform a task, to do it the way he liked, and you’d passed with flying colors. 
Jericho sat back in his chair, hands releasing your hair fully as he reached for his pack of cigarettes and his lighter on the table, but his eyes stayed on you. You swallowed down the last bit of the seed he’d left on your tongue, making a show of doing so dramatically, so that he knew, and he smiled at you. 
Chills ran up your spine at the sight.  
As he lit his cigarette and threw the lighter back on the coffee table, you scooted forward on your knees, pulling your hands free and placing them on his thighs before using one to guide his softening cock towards your mouth. 
He didn’t need to ask, it was one of the first lessons he taught you. 
You always clean my cock when we’re done. I don’t care where it’s been or what it’s done to ya. If you leave me messy, you’re gettin’ punished. You understand? 
You’d blushed back then, your whole face heating with the embarrassment, the crassness of his words and the thought of your actions that might take place in the future.
You’ve come a long way. 
You licked every inch of him clean as he looked down at you, taking lazy puffs of his cigarette as his dark eyes fixed with a distinct sort of fondness that only Jericho had ever given you. It was possessive, it was controlling, maybe it was toxic, but it was powerful, impassioned, relentless in the same such way your love for him was. You never would have guessed this is where the two of you would’ve ended up, but as you rose from your knees and held Jericho’s hand, as he led you to your bedroom, as he helped you wipe your face, and settled down beside you, as you curled into him, sore and ravaged, and satisfied, you couldn't imagine anything different. 
“You did well tonight, baby. Get some rest, and maybe I’ll fuck you good in the morning.” 
His gruff voice lulled you to sleep, and even after you’d passed into dreamland, a grin stayed firmly on your face at the sound of his words, the way he said them, and at the promise of your tomorrow.
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justafoxhound · 7 months
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WIP whenever
tagged by @dirty-bosmer to share a wip🤗
Today I was inspired by my current fo3 game where i've hired jericho. What if Talia hired him to help her make the trip to Tenpenny Tower?(Honestly i feels like this could be a major edit to Atomic Smitten..!)
tagging @jentucker (you wanted this!)
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“Kid, I didn’t sign on with you to play fuckin’ Santa Claus out here.”
Talia could feel the eyes on her back as she stormed ahead of her companion, leaving the thirsty beggar in the humming Megaton dirt.
“You pull any of that shit again and I’m gone.”
Talia stopped in her tracks and turned about to face the man yelling after her. “Excuse me?”
“You fuckin’ heard me,” he barked, jabbing the air with the bottle of purified water he’d just yanked from the beggar’s grasp. “In fact, if you’re gonna make me repeat myself like you’re some fuckin’ moron, I’m outta here as well.”
Talia blinked in astonishment. “I- Jesus Christ, are you for real? I paid you didn’t I? You’re gonna bail over a sip of water?”
His permanent scowl grew harsher. “Listen, you stuck up Vault bitch. You only paid me half. You fuck around givin’ away useful stuff like this, waste my time, bore me, and I’ll take my half back to Moriarty’s right fuckin’ now. Got no problem getting drunk instead of babysittin’ you.”
Talia’s stomach lurched. “You’ll get your other half. I promised, didn’t I? Jericho, come on.” She urged him to continue with her away from town. She couldn’t make this trip alone. At least not now she’d given him every cap she had after begging Mr. Burke for an advance on the pay he promised on completion of his request. “The caps are yours, but we have to get to Tenpenny Tower to get paid.”
Jericho glared from a few paces away. “And if this turns out to be a fuckin’ merry-go-round? Whole thing’s fucked up. I hope you’ll still be feelin’ so charitable if we find out there’s nobody up there, ‘cause I’m gonna be real pissed.”
Talia stifled a shiver. This was almost definitely not a good idea. Maybe she could have taken her chances alone. But it was too late now. Plus, she’d seen the claw marks on one of the town’s brahmin. Not all of the Vault stories about mutants were exaggeration. “No, sir,” she declared. “There’s plenty of people there. And when I say this guy is expecting us, we’ll get straight in, I swear.” I hope.
Jericho sniffed and took a noisy swig from the water bottle. “Yeah? This guy, Burke, he for real?”
Talia nodded profusely. “He had five hundred caps in his pocket to give me. And he’s from Tenpenny Tower so surely he’s good for it, and he wants the job done.” She put up a convincing argument, partly to assure herself too. The well dressed visitor had offered her one thousand caps for a simple, if extreme, job. She wasn’t sure it wasn’t just his strange idea of a sick joke. People on the surface were different, and he wasn’t like anybody she’d encountered in this town.
Jericho seemed to finish his thought, losing the animal intensity that had briefly sharpened his gaze. “Yeah, I seen him around. Had plenty to spend around town every day. Alright, let’s get goin’ before I change my mind.”
Talia nodded and hurried to match her mercenary’s quick pace, albeit keeping well out of arm’s reach. The old, grizzled, wasteland tough guy hadn’t given her a second glance in Moriarty’s saloon. But she wondered if he hadn’t heard some of her conversation with Mr. Burke, because as soon as she approached him about work escorting her across the wasteland he’d hit her pretty quick with a steep price of exactly one thousand caps. He’d seemed pretty surprised when she actually ponied up half that.
She breathed a little easier once he’d walked more than a minute without complaining. She didn't doubt he’d walk away with her caps and leave her in more of a mess than she already was, so she resolved to try to keep quiet and just get to the tower. But if she had to coddle him to keep him happy, she would. She’d pinned all hope of living beyond a week on Mr. Burke’s outrageous offer, couldn’t back out, and she had to reach him first. He held all the baskets, and she only had one egg, and she’d given it to Jericho.
“The fuck you givin’ this away here for anyway? Won’t do him any good.” Jericho interrupted her thoughts, brandishing the water bottle.
“I was just gonna give him a sip. I thought I was gonna die of thirst when I got out the Vault.”
He sniffed. “I don’t get it.”
She didn’t try to explain. “Can I have it please?”
He tossed a glance her way. “No. Not to waste it on dead men.”
“I’m thirsty. Anyway, I swiped it from Moriarty fair and square.”
“No shit? I thought this was Vault water. That fucker holds all the best stuff back. What was he chargin’?”
“Um, like, thirty caps?”
Jericho snorted. “Man, robbery without gettin’ off your ass. He don’t bother get his hands dirty. It’s gotta get boring though, if you ask me. You get anything stronger?”
Talia shook her head uncertainly, mumbling an apology.
“Shit.” Jericho tossed the water her way. “First bottle of booze you see is mine.”
She agreed, muffling her sigh of relief at catching the water without stumbling. It was going to be a long walk.
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nuclearnonsense · 10 months
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My previous poll seems to be a real hit (thank you for that), so I have decided to make another one! This one focuses on Fallout 3 specifially, so don't comment characters from the other games (they'll get their turn).
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lesvegas · 4 months
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what is happening that you're killing your companions so fast?
I'm playing the game lol
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