#Fo4f

[petnews2day]

Why does breast cancer come back? How to prevent recurrence?

New Post has been published on https://petn.ws/Fo4f

Why does breast cancer come back? How to prevent recurrence?

As a breast cancer survivor, you need to be wary about tracking any change that may happen in your body. For even after initial treatment is completed and tests like PET scan show no evidence of disease, there is a chance that breast cancer may return. Even women with early breast cancer often develop local […]

See full article at https://petn.ws/Fo4f #PetTravelNews

#Pet Travel News

[commonwealthoccurences]

Till You Stop Shaking

Word Count: 990 Prompt: Huddling For Warmth Day: 17 Note: Thank you guys so much for your continued support and understanding. I’ll be using the next couple of days to catch up on Fo4f and get us back on track. Thank you so much again. Love you guys. Temperatures dipped below freezing long before Sole and Hancock made it anywhere near Sanctuary on their way back from Goodneighbor. Bundled up to the nines, even Hancock who wasn’t as affected by the cold, they were struggling to make their way through the fields of the Wasteland, shivering so badly it was hard to walk. Their steps were choppy and short, fighting against winds that refused to let them make it very far. There was no way they were going to make it back to Sanctuary that night without freezing to death first.

There was little productive discussion that could get done, between their teeth chattering and the way it was hard to think, but eventually Hancock motioned to one of the Pulowski Preservation Shelters. Maybe it wouldn’t have done anything in the War, but God knows it was enclosed enough to keep some heat in. It was probably their best bet. With that, Sole more than willingly followed him towards the cylindrical shelter and was quick to step inside.

The metal walls didn’t seem to make the cold much better; they knew it was just a waiting game, a battle between their patience and however long it took to get warm, but God was it difficult to step into the shelter despite knowing it was the right choice to make. They shook with the effort of turning and sliding the door shut, leaving them in the small space with Hancock pressed into their side.

Hancock began shedding his layers without hesitating; he’d lived long enough to know that letting body heat into the space was the best chance they had at keeping warm. Sole followed suit, tugging off their jacket, then longsleeve, shaking as they did. God they hoped the shelter would help out with the warmth. Not a moment too soon Hancock gestured for them to bring themself closer so they could share what body heat had survived the harsh weather.

Once they had wrapped their arms around his waist and tucked their head against his neck, somewhat flustered but more concerned with their survival, he brought their discarded jacket around their shoulders, grateful that it hung off their frame enough to include him in a bit of the space. They gripped either side of the coat and brought what they could around Hancock’s back to keep the warmth in.

Sole knew the freezing tip of their nose against the fabric that covered his shoulder was difficult not to cringe away from for him. They fumbled their hands inside their jacket sleeves and pressed closer, starting to feel the warmth bleeding through his shirt. The painful numbness in their fingertips was lit on fire by just a hint of warmth bleeding into the shelter. Hancock’s chest heaved with a heavy sigh, filled with what seemed to be icicles hanging from his lungs.

Slowly, he eased them to the ground, tugging Sole into his lap as they folded into his form and fully relaxed against him, relieved they didn’t have to hold up the weight of the pressing cold on their own. His hands worked their way under the jacket and against their skin as Sole turned to pick up his jacket and layer it on top of the other one. Essentially, Sole formed the third layer of blankets that kept the cold from reaching him any farther.

Their trembling hands began to steady ever so slowly where they pressed against his sides, the quivering in their shoulders dying down. It felt like their fingertips were on fire as more of Hancock’s body heat bled through his shirt, flames that leapt straight from his skin licking at their fingerprints. The breath that left them was weighted.

Hancock, ever so kind to soothe them despite the fact that he was equally stressed, began smoothing his hand over their back, cradling them tightly. Finally, finally, they were feeling warmth reach their chest and stomach, despite the freezing feeling in their toes sending pain shooting up their legs. Exhaustion was creeping into their brain and they fought it off. It was never smart to fall asleep when you were about as warm as the Antarctic. 

In the distance, like a dream, Sole could hear music. It was quiet, haunting, played low enough that they couldn’t make out the words, just the melody, something familiar that was definitely being played off Diamond City radio. They tried their hardest to focus on it; it was something that may keep them awake in the face of the warmth that was finally spreading through their veins now that they had found some sort of shelter in Hancock.

Against the skin of their back, his rough fingers began tapping slowly in time to the music that was creeping closer. His breath seemed hot against their numb ears, the sharp lines of his body curled in on them to keep them warm. He seemed to be pretty much recovered, considering it was difficult for ghouls to feel the cold like humans do, and Sole took that as permission to seek shelter in the depths of him. They managed to press themself even closer, cheekbone against his chest, his jacket coming around to hide their face in a small cave of warmth.

The music drifted closer through an eyebot, listless and just as gray as the surroundings outside the Pulowski Preservation Shelter, sprinkled with icicles that hung like stones from the bottom of it’s metal frame. It seemed to be stuttering, or maybe Sole was drifting in and out of sleep, both worn and torn from the frigid weather. Hancock tightened his grip when they shuddered against him, shaking the last of the cold from their system, shedding it like an unwanted skin. He mumbled something soothing against their ear but all they could feel was his breath and the distant sound of music. As the eyebot drifted away, lifeless, so did Sole, straight to sleep against Hancock’s chest.

#Fallout 4 #Fo4 #Fallout 4 February #Fo4f #Hancock #Mayor Hancock #Oneshot #Imagine #Fluff #Hurt Comfort #Huddle for warmth #Fanfiction #Fanfic #Ff

[real-estate-with-athir]

#FortMcMurray #ymm #woodbuffalo #rmwb #fortmac #realestateagent #houseforsale #exprealty #realestate (at Fort McMurray) https://www.instagram.com/p/COe8P1-FO4F/?igshid=185ij82kfgce0

#fortmcmurray #ymm #woodbuffalo #rmwb #fortmac #realestateagent #houseforsale #exprealty #realestate

[feedbites]

#CurryPot #IndianRestaurant Tried few items from @currypot and loved it😍 My favorite has to be beef roast as it had a perfect blend of flavors Also, the spice level of the food is slightly higher which totally fits my palate💁🏻‍♀️ __________________________________________ ——————————————————- In the frame Schezwan Fried Rice Chicken Sizzler Fish Garlic Beef Roast Lachcha Parantha Chapati __________________________________________ ——————————————————- ☕️Restaurant- Curry Pot 📍Location- Riyadh 📌Status - Pickup & Delivery 🥘 Serves - Indian Food 📱Instagram Handle - @currypotksa __________________________________________ ————————————————— . . . #feedbites #currypot #indianfood #malabarifood #package #greatcoffee #coffeeclick #food #riyadh #riyadhcity #visitsaudi #riyadhconnect #soriyadh #riyadhlife #middleeast #blogger #foodblogger #lifestyle #riyadhblogger #blogging #photography #iphonephotography #ribahkhan (at Riyadh - Kingdom Of Saudi Arabia) https://www.instagram.com/p/CCwV4E-Fo4F/?igshid=maxykciadxza

#currypot #indianrestaurant #feedbites #indianfood #malabarifood #package #greatcoffee #coffeeclick #food #riyadh #riyadhcity #visitsaudi #riyadhconnect #soriyadh #riyadhlife #middleeast #blogger #foodblogger #lifestyle #riyadhblogger #blogging #photography #iphonephotography #ribahkhan

[ericthewise]

Stormy quarantine live shots. (at Missouri State University) https://www.instagram.com/p/B-fo4F-DwzV/?igshid=1l6iz6t7n9uv7

[cabrilecorural]

#paisagem #areasprotegidas #educacaosustentavel #ecoturismo #gestaocultural #responsabilidadesocial #economiaverde #travelenjoyrespect #lifecanbesimple #cabrilecorural (em Laboratório da Paisagem) https://www.instagram.com/p/BxxUYM-Fo4f/?igshid=zx7aet5fn1pa

#paisagem #areasprotegidas #educacaosustentavel #ecoturismo #gestaocultural #responsabilidadesocial #economiaverde #travelenjoyrespect #lifecanbesimple #cabrilecorural

[animezombie21]

Sandpaper kisses are the best. #sandpaperkisses #cat #mycat #Halibel https://www.instagram.com/p/BoSceb-Fo4f/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=5k2zao5y5hcp

#sandpaperkisses #cat #mycat #halibel

[livingithardandright-blog]

Follow me i will follow you back

Cmon help a fellow tumblr out !

#Follow For Follow #fo4f

[commonwealthoccurences]

Featherfall

Note: And so Fo4F begins! Prompt: Only One Bed Trope

Day: 1

Word Count: 2,877

It’s steadily approaching midnight by the time the team of Brotherhood soldiers scatter into the Dugout Inn, dragging armor and weapons behind them like dead weight. Night had crawled it’s way in after them, bringing the brisk chill of the wasteland and the scent of fresh rain into the space. Sole was practically a feral ghoul in the way they stumbled in, dead on their feet from exhaustion.

The Bobrbov brothers took one look at the pack of soldiers and immediately began taking payment for rooms and drinks. The group scattered throughout the inn, some settling into chairs with bourbon in their hands, some immediately entering the rooms and collapsing on the beds. Danse got a room key before placing a hand on Sole’s shoulder and guiding them into the hallway.

They stumbled, nearly tripping over their protective vest they were dragging beside them. Danse caught them by the arm and held on, using it to guide them through the halls and make sure they didn’t end up putting their head through one of the walls. It wasn’t the easiest to support them with one arm while shoving the key into the lock on their room door, but eventually he got the door open, and pulled them inside. “Thanks, Danse.” They sighed, sinking down onto the bed in the middle of the room.

It was then that he realized that there was simply one bed, and of course, because fate had a cruel way of laughing at him, there was no couch. Part of him screamed at the idea of sleeping on the floor after the mission they had been on, but he knew that Sole was far more exhausted than he, and probably needed the bed more. With a sigh, he said “I’ll take the floor, don’t worry.”

Sole’s eyes opened again at this. They looked around the room, slightly disoriented, before realizing what he was talking about. “Danse, I can take the floor. You need the rest.” They protested through the yawn that nearly split their jaw.

He laughed quietly. “Yeah, cause you seem to be ready to fight over this.”

They groaned and collapsed backwards onto the bed, rubbing their hands over their eyes. “Just take the bed, Danse.”

“Not going to happen, soldier, but thank you.”

“If you sleep on the floor I am too.”

Danse was quite used to these stubborn stalemates when it came to travelling with Sole; it wasn’t the first time they argued over something like taking watch shifts or who would sleep in the driest spot. This was exactly how he knew they were completely serious. With a sigh, he heaved his packs into the corner and folded his arms over his chest. “What’s the compromise?”

“Can’t we both use the bed? It’s not that small.”

Now that was new, and it successfully quieted Danse as he stood staring at them. They relaxed without a care in the world, sprawled out across the bed, still in their Brotherhood regulation fatigues. Despite being able to cover it well, it was hard to deny that he was more than worn from their travels. Exhaustion wore down at his common sense in the silence until he threw his arms up and, cursing his own stubbornness, said, “Alright, fine.”

Sole’s arms didn’t block him from seeing the smug smile that crossed their face at winning the argument. They sat up slowly, still sluggish, and unbuttoned their over jacket and tossed it across the room, knowing it would annoy Danse at the lack of neatness, and kicked off their boots. They crawled to the furthest side of the bed, still in their cargo pants and turtleneck, hair mussed in a way that only Brotherhood missions could do.

They settled quickly into the mattress, curled up with their hands folded under their head, barely halfway under the covers. “I’m staying awake until you go to sleep.” They announced.

He sighed. There goes that plan. He should’ve known. Shaking his head, Danse shrugged off his over jacket and folded it neatly, placing it on the nightstand. His boots came off methodically, unlacing them, tucking the laces into the shoes, and lining them up neatly in front of the nightstand. Then, eyeing the situation, he began easing himself into bed. They watched him and he cursed internally. It definitely was not helping his nervousness.

The blankets were far softer than realistic; he knew it was simply the weariness of sleeping on rocks for the past few days that was shifting his view. It was easy to practically collapse into the mattress, his head hitting the pillow with no resistance. He sighed. Sole shifted next to him, snuggling further into the bed, and finally closed their eyes.

It was hard for Danse to try to shut off the wary, alert part of his brain to sleep somewhere strange, despite the dizzying tiredness that coursed through him. After a pause he glanced towards Sole again. Their breathing was even and steady and he had to suppress a smile at the peacefulness that had taken over their face; their stubbornness was ridiculous but it couldn’t outlast their need for sleep. He sat up again and brought the blankets over their body, not wanting them to wake up cold. Their need for rest was too important.

Eventually, he forced himself to lay back down despite his hesitation, and close his eyes. The clock in the room sang the time ticking by that he had left to get some peace, practically mocking in the way it announced that he was steadily losing minutes. After a moment, he took in a deep breath and rolled over to face Sole. Sue him, it was easier to sleep knowing someone had his back, especially since they were one of the people he trusted most in the Brotherhood. Knowing they would wake, probably faster than he would, if something happened was the final push for him to close his eyes and drift off.

When Sole awoke their arm was beyond numb. This wasn’t as unusual as they would’ve liked it to be, but it still caused them to stir awake in confusion. A deep breath caused the familiar smell of Brotherhood issue detergent to assault their senses, further waking them. Eventually, they forced themself to open their eyes and face the morning.

Just in front of them was a dead-asleep Paladin, a sight less familiar than one would assume. Danse insisted on sleeping after and waking before they did. They suspected it was a fear of being vulnerable out in the wasteland hidden amongst his excuses of them needing sleep more than he did. They embraced the moment and let their gaze roam his features.

Danse looked much younger when he was asleep, the worries melted off his frame, relaxed and far away from the waking-nightmares the wasteland so freely provided. Sometime during the night he had gripped their hand, his fingers entwined with theirs, the other hand resting under their forearm as if he were trying to keep hold of them for reassurance. They guessed he wasn’t so lucky with nightmares after all. They cursed at the way they practically melted at the gesture of seeking them out, though, and stretched their legs. 

A couple of glances around the room located the clock and they discovered they were thirty minutes ahead of schedule, awake before Danse would even have to go rouse the others. Half of them hated the loss of sleep, the other half grateful that they had some peace and quiet and time to wake up. Mindlessly, they readjusted their grip on Danse’s hand, and found themself curling up closer, trying to find warmth amongst the thin, scratchy blankets.

He shifted in his sleep at the movement, eyebrows furrowed in subconscious concern. Sole found themself desperate to smooth out the worry in his features, not ready to let go of this new side of him they’d discovered. It was plain to see that he spent most of his time sternly looking at the Wasteland through a lens of doubt and suspicion, and Sole had gotten used to that, so this new expression was something to keep close for as long as they could.

Carefully, they reached over, and traced their fingertips over the skin between his brows, following the shape up and around to his temples, then his cheekbones, and across his jawline. The motion seemed to reassure him, and his features relaxed again as he sank deeper into sleep. Sole smiled to themself, brushing against the softness of his hair before pulling their hand back and looking up at the ceiling. 

It was speckled with age, water damage, and something that looked suspiciously like blood. Unsurprising. Restlessness settled into their bones and they found themself wanting to do something for Danse; it was rare they could catch him off guard, and they found themself wanting to show thanks for getting them all through the hell of a mission the past few days.

Carefully, moving at a snail's pace, Sole peeled back the blankets from their aching body, and scooted their way down the mattress. Danse shifted restlessly as they tried to stand up and they paused, eyes widened in panic as they stared at him, fingers crossed that he wouldn’t wake. Eventually, he relaxed again. Sole stood as slowly as they could so as to not wake him, their muscles screaming in protest at the effort.

It wasn’t hard to make it out of the room, their socked feet making them quiet as a mouse, their boots dangling in their grip as they held them by their laces. They tensed and glared at the ceiling when the door creaked as it opened. Noting to let the brothers know they needed to grease their doors, they shut the door softly behind them and made their way out into the inn.

It was silent other than Vadim wiping down the bar and the soft playing of Diamond City radio. He looked up and grinned when they moved into his line of sight and they sent him back a grateful smile before sitting down at the bar and tugging their boots on, tying the laces roughly. “Where to, Soldier?” Vadim asked, teasingly.

Sole had made quite the name for themself in Diamond City, even before finding Danse’s party and joining the Brotherhood. They’d brought back Valentine, of course, and amongst other little jobs they’d completed in the town and just being around long enough, they’d become friends with almost everyone there. Including the Bobrov brothers. “I’m headed to get some supplies from Percy. Mind if I borrow your kitchen? I figured our fearless leader could use a good breakfast.” They asked.

“Ah, I wasn’t aware the Brotherhood included free breakfast in bed. I might have to sign up! You’re more than welcome to use the kitchen, though.”

Sole rolled their eyes playfully. “Sorry, Vadim. That’s only included with the Paladin promotion, but thank you.”

He laughed and waved them off, motioning for them to go on their way. They gave him a cheeky wave and slid back off the barstool, boots clacking against the wood floors as they made their way out of the small Inn. The morning air hit them with a fresh chill, the smell of cooking meat making it’s way down the alley from Choice Chops, and the tang of radiation from a recent rad storm stinging their nose.

With a soft breath into their palms to warm their skin, they made their way down the path to Diamond City Surplus. Their breath fanned out in front of them in quick puffs of fog, their boots crunching against the almost-frozen ground. The journey was short and they greeted Percy softly. They bought a Mirelurk egg and Razorgrain bread and stopped by Choice Chops for some thinly sliced Radstag.

The journey back was chilly and Sole felt a shiver run through them when they stepped in the abruptly warmed environment of the Inn. Vadim was nowhere to be seen, probably off taking a break from tending the Inn while it was empty. They headed straight for the kitchen, ready to get to work. Sole had about twenty minutes to get everything made before they had to go wake up the other members of their party.

Breakfast was whipped up shortly and without fuss; Sole still enjoyed cooking, even after the war had taken most of the ingredients they knew from them. One of their favorite things was reimagining pre-war dishes and figuring out how to make the new world of food work for them. After some quick work, breakfast for Danse was whipped up with five minutes to spare.

They headed back to the room as quietly as possible, taking careful steps to make sure their boots didn’t echo in the hall. It was quite the balancing act, holding his breakfast while they attempted to ease the door open without it creaking, but they accomplished it somehow, and quickly shut it behind them.

Danse seemed to still be fast asleep in bed, his forearm resting over his eyes, his chest rising and falling steadily. Sole eased their boots off as carefully as they could to avoid making anymore noise and debated quietly to themself how best to wake him up. Some Brotherhood members had a mean arm on them and quite the reflexes from growing up in the Commonwealth, and they sure as hell didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Danse’s reflexes. “Somethin’ on your mind, Soldier?” Danse’s voiced broke the silence, rough and rumbling from just waking up.

Sole jumped with a quiet yelp and nearly fumbled the plate of food, swearing as they stumbled forward and stubbed their toe on the dresser. With a wince they turned, limping slightly, and shot him a fake dirty look. “I made you breakfast and this is how you treat me? Harsh, Paladin.” Their tone was disappointed.

He moved his arm and sat up slightly to look at them, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “You… made me breakfast?”

“Yeah. And you made me stub my toe. Not exactly the fairest of trades, if I do say so myself.”

They sighed dramatically and set the food down on the nightstand beside him before turning their attention back to him. He was looking between them and the plate, his mouth open slightly. “I’ll give you time to wake up. I can go wake the rest of the group, now. Eat.” They gestured to the plate before exiting the room again, closing the door and pausing to take in a breath.

The stumped expression he had was borderline delightful for Sole. It wasn’t often they caught the Paladin off guard, and they felt accomplished whenever they could manage to surprise him. He seemed pleased, despite the initial confusion and alarm on his face. They shuffled through the halls and rapped their fists hard on the doors they knew housed Brotherhood soldiers. 

After every door they paused and waited for a shout that indicated the members were awake before moving forward. It didn’t take too long before all of the members began emerging from their rooms, albeit reluctantly, and collapsed into the various seating at the center of the Inn. A few confused looks were shot Sole’s way as to where Danse was, but no one tried asking questions, knowing they probably wouldn’t get very far.

Soon after, they returned to their room to begin packing their own stuff. Danse was now fully dressed and stood by his backpack, rummaging through it with his back to the door, plate on the nightstand now empty. Sole resisted the pleased smugness that flooded them. “Good breakfast?” They asked.

Danse didn’t jump, likely hearing their footsteps in the hall and expecting their presence. He continued to rummage through his bag for a moment before turning around. “Uh, yeah. It was good. Thanks, Sole.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Wow, I get the privilege of being called Sole this morning? Must’ve outdone myself with a damn good breakfast.” They teased, adjusting the straps on their backpack before heaving it over their shoulders.

He laughed awkwardly, but paused to look at them for a moment. Sole quirked an eyebrow, silently asking what was up. “Seriously, thank you. I appreciate the gesture.”

The warm smile that filled their face was less teasing and more genuine, unrestrained happiness at the fact that he was dropping the boss-man persona for a little. They nodded, “Anytime, Danse. It’s about time you get thanks for not just being a great Paladin, but a great friend.”

His face flushed softly at that as he picked up his backpack and scanned the room one more time to make sure they weren’t leaving anything behind. As he passed them he clapped their shoulder encouragingly and paused, opening his mouth to say something. After a moment of Sole watching him expectantly he shut his mouth and shook his head, more to himself than anything, his hand still resting on their shoulder. He gave it a small squeeze, “Thank you.” He repeated quietly before he kept moving. “Pack up!” The much sterner, yet more familiar version of his voice echoed through the Inn to the other members.

#Fallout 4 #Fo4 #Fo4F #Only one bed #Paladin Danse #fluff #friends to flirting

[1dream-1way]

Always, I Follow Back, Follow For Follow, ... ;D

#Follow for follow #follow #follow 4 follow #fo4f #follow back #followback #followbyfollow #Im following back #im following everyone back #instant follow

[commonwealthoccurences]

The Fallout February Masterlist!

Note: This is the Masterlist for Fallout 4 February 2021, a daily writing event with a mix of fanfiction trope prompts and songfic prompts!

Day 1: Only One Bed - Featherfall (Danse, Fluff)

Day 2: One More Tomorrow - One More Tomorrow (With You) (X6-88, Fluff, Light angst)

Day 3: Fake Dating Turns Real - Such Good Friends (Deacon, Fluff)

Day 4: Orange Colored Sky - Orange Colored Sky (OMTWY Part 2) (X6-88 Angst, Fluff)

Day 5: Hurt/Comfort - What Doesn’t Kill You (Gage, Hurt comfort, Fluff)

Day 6: Maybe - Maybe (I’ll Say Maybe) (Past Nick Valentine, Preston Garvey, Angst, Fluff)

Day 7: Snowed In - Let It Snow (Curie, pure fluff, domesticity)

Day 8: Crazy He Calls Me Easy (Cait, pure fluff)

Day 9: Character Death Now Sleep (It’s Not Even Light Out) (Preston, Angst, Major Character Death)

Day 10: Crawl Out Through The Fallout Crawl Back To Me (Hancock, Fluff)

Day 11: Enemies to Lovers Roll Your Eyes (One More Time) (Part One) (Danse, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Angst, Hurt Comfort)

Day 12: The Wanderer Roll Your Eyes (One More Time) (Part Two) (Danse, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Angst)

Day 13: Didn’t Know They Were Dating Mine? (Piper, Fluff)

Day 14: Atom Bomb Baby Atom Bomb Baby (RJ MacCready, Fluff, Gore mention)

Day 15: Trapped In An Elevator Stuck (Gage, Comfort, Fluff)

Day 16: I Don’t Want To Set The World On Fire Let It Burn (Preston Garvey, Fluff, Kidnap Rescue)

Day 17: Huddling for Warmth Till You Stop Shaking (Hancock, Hurt comfort, fluff)

Day 18: Easy Living - So Easy To Live (Easier To Die) (Deacon, Angst, Major Character Death)

Day 19: Presumed Dead - So Easy To Live (Easier To Die) (Deacon, Angst, Major Character Death)

Day 20: Happy Times A Price to Pay (Hancock, Angst, Fluff)

Day 21: Childhood Sweethearts A Price To Pay (Hancock, Angst, Fluff)

Day 22: Pistol Packin’ Mama Easiest To Forget (SETL,ETD Part Two) (Deacon, Angst)

Day 23: Mutual, Oblivious Pining There’s A Universe (In You) (X6-88, Pure Fluff)

Day 24: Right Behind You Baby Not So Hard To Say Goodbye (SETL,ETD Part Three) (Deacon, Pure Angst, Character Death, Evil Sole)

Day 25: Modern AU It’s A- Something (Piper, Fluff, Modern AU, Student AU)

Day 26: Undecided Maybe (Cait, Fluff, Angst)

Day 27: Cyberpunk AU Sunlight (Your Love Is Sunlight) (Valentine, Fluff)

Day 28: I’m The One You’re Looking For The One You’re Looking For (Hancock, Fluff?, Meet cute, mildly suggestive)

March 1st: We have a Discord!

#Fallout 4 #Fo4 #Masterlist #Fallout 4 February Masterlist #Fo4f

[commonwealthoccurences]

There’s A Universe (In You)

Word Count: 2,401 Prompt: Mutual Pining Day: 23/27 There was a stereotype about X6-88 that wound its way around Sanctuary like a choking, creeping vine. It dug hold as soon as he arrived in Sanctuary, newly freed from the Institute’s grip after they had been put six- well, a lot more than six -feet in the ground. Sole had guided him through the settlement with a hand on his shoulder, head held high with pride at the fact that someone they thought so highly of had escaped their limitations and now had the potential to be and do whatever he wanted. It didn’t matter to them, the way the settlers formed a wide berth around X6-88, accepting of synths, but terrified of the Institute.

He was cold and untouchable, silent as stone and unbreakable like an iceberg. Thought so highly of himself and his origins, that’s why he refused to speak to any of the settlers, kept his hands folded behind his back. Even the other synth settlers refused to meet his gaze or attempt to find common ground; they wanted nothing to do with something that reminded them of their worst nightmare.

Sole read his intentions completely differently and it broke their heart. He tried hard to stay out of the way, struggling to find his place in the settlement when he had never really been a part of a community before. He kept his head held high because he refused to pity himself, felt more comfortable with the distance the settlers kept than the potential room for them whispering about how he was without purpose or family. X6, more often than not, was listening to conversations others weren’t even aware he could overhear, picking up information that may help him survive in such an unfamiliar environment. 

When X6 first started asking them questions, they felt themself light up from the inside out, shameless in the way the brightness found its way back into their eyes. He wanted to know how to help them prepare the vegetables they had brought in for the evening’s dinner, and they were more than happy to show him. The night passed in a flash of peeled carrots and crushed tomatoes and Sole fighting the grin that wanted to take over whenever they watched him tilt his head as he absorbed the information.

Peeling back the layers of Institute brainwashing to expose the person underneath that made up X6, the way he genuinely thought and reacted, was difficult. He often fell back into his previous mannerisms in search of something familiar when the Commonwealth shifted so dramatically and unpredictably. Sole could hardly blame him; it was a terrifying change in lifestyle that would jar anyone, much less someone who had conformed to a strict set of rules their entire life.

The first time he revealed something that was only him, not of the Institute’s making, was when he joined Sole in the property just outside of Sanctuary to search for hubflowers. A large crow had clumsily found its way down from one of the trees above them to land on X6’s shoulder, folding it’s wings neatly in a way that was incredibly familiar to the man in front of them. When they shot him a questioning look, astonished that one of the birds had gotten so close voluntarily, he simply reached up and stroked the feathers softly. “They’re Institute made. I think they know they can’t go home now.” His voice was quiet, far from the assertive tone they had grown used to.

They allowed themself to stare for another moment at the way X6 looked at the bird with familiarity and comfort before they turned back to the bush of hubflowers and returned to picking. It felt almost as if they had intruded on something private, like they were meant to cover their eyes the moment he let his guard down. They knew he wasn’t naive or stupid, he was the smartest asset under the Institute’s command at one point. He knew exactly what he was doing, and had given them permission to witness it. Asked, even. If it was okay for him to show parts of himself he’d never been allowed to before. Curiosity. Warmth. Sole was ready to welcome it all.

When they returned to Sanctuary with an addition it drew eyes from all over. Sole simply waved them off with a familiar, General-regulation smile, with a look in their eyes that was more of a command to look away. X6 hadn’t stopped running his hands over the crow’s feathers since they made their way back to the community. He seemed far away.

Sole was content to lead the way back to the house and let him settle in one of the armchairs, the crow hopping off to peck at the arm, head tilting back and forth at the threads that were coming loose. “Are you going to keep it?” They asked curiously, lingering in the doorway, so as not to intrude.

“Yes. If that’s okay.”

Sole was playing with their hands, they noted to themself absentmindedly. It was hard not to fidget when X6 was looking at them, somewhat lost, but more present than they had seen him in a while. Like he was finding the path to figure everything out, but he was just a few steps away. With an eager nod, they gave their consent to him keeping the crow. They did live together, and had established that neither one of them were to bring in anything that the other may protest to without asking first. Of course he remembered the rules before anything else. They had to bite their tongue before they would blurt out that he could do what he wanted. If only to see what he would be like, completely independent and himself.

It was incredibly, hazily dreamlike, the way his eyes reflected the firelight as he reached up and ran his hands over the crow’s head feathers, legs crossed neatly at the knees. He was as quiet as ever, but there was something more content to this silence. They would take it.

When X6 began taking the steps to independence, Sole was ecstatic. They came into the house one day to see him reading a book, Edgar perched just behind him on the back of the chair. He was rubbing his fingertips over his bottom lip in thought and they nearly combusted. A few times he had asked to read a book and they had vehemently encouraged it, but he’d never taken the step to actually read. Maybe he thought they would withdraw their encouragement, or maybe that fear of getting absolutely destroyed by the Institute for doing anything that may signal independence was lingering.

Regardless, Sole would often find X6 lost in books, absorbing the words like they were oxygen. It was hard to go out on a run for supplies and not return with an entire library to supply him with worlds to escape into. Preston began noticing a fond roll of his eyes common whenever they would stop to examine the condition of a book and stuff it in their bag. Sole was grateful for the fact that he wouldn’t put up any protest to the fact that most of the scrap would have to go into his backpack; they knew he wanted X6 to settle comfortably almost as badly as they did. Still, he couldn’t resist teasing with quiet comments they would almost miss. They pretended they didn’t hear him every time.

After books came walks. They supposed after being trapped underground for so long, being told the outside world was poisonous and cursed, he would eventually either grow to love or hate the open air. The books kept him inside, somewhere comfortable, but as soon as X6 truly discovered the stars, it was something else. Sole would find him in the middle of the back fields, legs folded underneath him in a uniquely not-Institute-influenced position, head tilted back to look at the sky, Edgar somewhere nearby.

When they stopped to watch him, not wanting to disturb his peace, their arms folded across their chest as they leaned against the house, they felt the traces of the Institute bleeding out of him. It had been so suffocatingly sterile, bleaching every trace of personality out of everyone there, and yet he had survived, eyes reflecting starlight, mind playing through thousands of worlds he had yet to discover through favorite books that hadn’t been found yet. He gave new meaning to the phrase “self-made man.”

One night, Preston stepped up beside them and announced quietly he was relieving them from watch. “It’s beautiful.” He gestured subtly to the sky.

Too subtly, one might add, as Sole’s gaze was still locked onto X6-88 and they replied without thinking, “Yeah, he is.” under their breath.

Preston fought back a laugh and simply nodded. They found themself a moment later and shot him a grateful look before making their way through the wheatgrass, X6’s eyes on the universe, Sole’s on their own universe right in front of them, and sat down beside him without a word. After a few beats of silence, X6 began pointing towards the sky and informing them the names of the stars and their place in the universe. Sole couldn’t fight the thought that if they were simply made of stardust, as had once been theorized, they fit right beside each other in the same world.

From the beginning, X6-88 couldn’t comprehend, even internally, his gratefulness towards Sole. It was hard to communicate that he needed to eat, much less the fact that they had saved him from a fate that he had been brainwashed into believing was his only choice. He’d noticed that they almost seemed proud to lead him into the settlement; no one had ever been proud to have him by their side, only to declare him a useful tool in the progress of the Institute. That was something different.

It was something different, as well, to have Sole eager to answer his questions. The first one was hard to choke out, for fear of being reprimanded, or worse. The Institute simply didn’t allow questions, but he was so desperate to do something of use, to learn something that would give him a purpose in this new life. Sure, in the long run it may have seemed small time, cutting up vegetables, but it was something to keep him holding onto the hope that this may work out for him. And Sole was quick to jump up, with the biggest grin on their face, and open the door to his new life for him.

When X6 found the crow, he recognized it. Had been there when it was made; not the first of its kind, not quite that remarkable, but one of the most useful. That thought stung far more than he’d care to admit. He saw his reflection in its obsidian black eyes and felt something tug at his heart. That was new. He nearly flinched, tense and resistant to emotions every time they popped up in full force. But the crow tilted its head and looked at him in understanding and he felt his first notable, selfish flicker of want. He wanted a companion who understood him, truly.

The books that Sole had introduced him to drew him in like no other, with the exception of Sole themself. They seemed to resemble some sort of sorcerer with the way they were simply allowing him into new worlds, out of his own and into experiences beyond his own imagination. They had done the same with their own world, their own settlement and their own home. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised, but every time they were so willing to give he felt his jaw clench in relief. There wasn’t one person that had been so happy to give him things, to give him happiness, without a price tag attached. 

X6 had tried his best to express this, to choke the words out despite the fact that there seemed to be something caught in his throat, but it was hard. That wasn’t something he was used to. He had to be good at everything. excel at everything, if he were to be useful. Emotions were frustrating, to say the least. But Sole understood, if their watery eyes and sad smile was anything to go by. They had brought him into the first hug he’d ever experienced, and he let himself relax into them. Edgar cawed somewhere in the background, and he laughed, a quiet huff under his breath. A laugh, nonetheless.

Other than books and cooking, night after night, X6-88 found himself under the stars. The fact that there was so much out there, a vast expanse of things never to be discovered in his lifetime left him breathless. It was such a difference to the walls of the Institute, and while he had been out often to capture synths, he never was allowed to appreciate the differences the worlds held. It was almost comforting, that he would never know everything about the vastness of space. He was allowed to not know, allowed to look up at the expanding nothingness, and breathe. And it was beautiful.

When Sole sank onto the ground beside him with a soft sigh, he felt right at home. Like he had found his place, a shelter in the chaos. Sure, the Wasteland wasn’t easy to deal with, it wasn’t some idealized utopia, but it was free in the way that there was dirt on his cheek at the end of the day and Sole would fix Mutfruit tea and throw their head back in laughter at Edgar’s antics. It was freedom in the way that he was free to long to pull them closer without thinking he should check with the Scientists if that was normal. It was normal because it was him. He belonged to himself.

He let the comfortable silence reign for a moment before inhaling softly. The smell of various dinners cooking reached him; the other settlers had packed in for the night and were keeping well fed before they got up to work the next morning. The wind was bringing the sharp scent of the river uphill and the grass waved gently in front of him. X6 reached a hand up and pointed. “I read about space in that book you gave me. That’s the Big Dipper…”

#Fallout 4 #Fo4 #Fo4f #Fallout 4 February #X6-88 #Fluff #Oneshot #Imagine #Fanfiction #Fanfic #FF

[commonwealthoccurences]

Atom Bomb Baby

Word Count: 1,359

Prompt: Atom Bomb Baby Day: 14/27 It was no joke, the way Sole walked into the Third Rail with all the confidence in the world, like they knew they could take the entire bar on and then some and make it out without a scratch on them. MacCready couldn't help but hate and admire it at the same time; the cockiness was irritating, something so familiar from his work with the Gunners. But the tilt of their hips as they walked, the grin that crossed their lips when they met eyes with him? They had him under lock and chain before they even knew each other's names.  

They'd dropped down into the seat next to him, one leg slung casually over the other, an eyebrow raised at the Gunners that were attempting to threaten him, as if The Gunners had been the one to interrupted them. When they tried to threaten them as well the grin slipped off their face and they stood, hand on their gun, and glared them down, knowing Hancock would have their back in these matters; he didn't like the Gunners either. Apparently the Gunners knew that too, as they backed down hesitantly, and walked back out the door. Sole relaxed instantly back to their confident demeanor as if nothing had happened and looked over at MacCready, a little closer than one usually sat with a stranger. "We should talk."  And they proceeded to make him an offer he couldn't refuse. 

Sole was all admiring eyes when it came to MacCready and his work, the way he leaned over his sniper, eyes locked onto something they couldn't see in the distance. The wind picked up in a comically cinematic moment and blew his coat out behind him, and with the way he was concentrated they swore he could've been the star of a film from before the War. The subject of something daring and dangerous and enticing if they said so themself.  And they did. 

Maybe it was the way they were polar opposites in combat, with him being quiet, cautious and stealthy and Sole being the type to bust down the door and throw in a grenade before anyone could blink, but they managed to work well as a team, despite the chaos that often ensued.  It wasn't at all uncommon to spot MacCready on top of a building, shaking his head as he picked off the enemies that couldn't get close to Sole due to their fiery antics. 

He watched through his scope, calm as ever, as the clearing was lit up by their gunfire and grenades. They lost their signature grin and instead had a look of intense concentration as they blew through the area, taking MacCready's request of clearing it a little too seriously,. At least there was no way he'd get attacked by the time they were done, considering there would be nothing left. 

Once things settled, including the plumes of smoke and dust, Sole sent a cheery thumbs up his way and he had to sigh as he packed up his weaponry. They were something, that was for sure, and they proved it every day they travelled with him. The trip was more than easy to get to their side. They had paused outside the building, checking over their gun while they waited, face covered in bits of dirt and ash that had been blown their way by the Wasteland winds. Specks of blood decorated the soot like gorish freckles and he resisted the urge to let them know they should try and wipe some of it off; the last time he tried that the hem of his duster was stained for a week and Sole wouldn't get that smug grin off their face no matter what happened. 

They looked up at his footsteps, tensing in a familiar way that showed him they were ready to fight. He put his hands up casually before swiftly dropping them and walking past them towards the entrance. Sole let the tension slip from their frame once they recognized him and simply bounded after them, resembling a golden retriever with a dead squirrel in its mouth far more than MacCready liked.  He turned around at a cheerful, "Whoops" coming from them just in time to watch them nearly slip and fall on their ass in a puddle of blood. He sighed and kept walking, leaving them to catch up. 

Despite their confident swagger and their more childish side, MacCready couldn't help but to appreciate the way they looked when they were in the middle of a fight the most. Concentrated, calculated, and at their deadliest. And maybe it was wrong to find that attractive, but not much was right in the Commonwealth, and something about their efficiency was just so satisfying.  God, working with amateurs most of his life had really done something to him. 

They slipped back into their professionalism as easy as breathing as the pair crept forward. Sole didn't have a preference for silent and swift tactics like he did, but they were willing to compromise and move quietly until they started fighting, and he appreciated that. The pair crept forward, mirroring each other as they opened doors and peeked down hallways, the image of a finely oiled machine. They'd only been working together for a few months, and they'd fell into the pattern swiftly, like it was more than natural to them.  

Sole raised a pointer finger to their lips and gestured to the hallway to their right. There was somewhere down there, and shit was about to kick off. MacCready nodded and moved to standing next to them, ready to kneel and shoot from the down the hallway as they dealt with things closer up. Once he was in position they turned the corner and raised their weapon, firing off shots like they were blinking. Mac couldn't help but cringe at the echo of their weapon, wondering if he'd ever get them to appreciate subtlety and calm down a little.  Not likely. 

They took out the few guards that had been hanging around before he could even get into place and called for him singsongingly, to which Mac huffed a sigh and rose to his feet. They bounced slightly on the tips of their toes as they waited from him to join them before settling back into creeping footsteps. A bit late, but they were trying. 

The rest of the building was easy as cake and they made it to their old boss before they knew it. It was truly shameful, how easy it was to get to him and take him out, but Sole refused to complain; they’d take what they could get. On the way out of the building, exhausted but cheerful from a job well done, Sole snatched MacCready’s hat off his head and settled it onto their own. They turned to walk backwards, facing him, and held their arms out in a “Well, what do you think” gesture.

The smile MacCready was fighting eventually won and he shook his head, ducking it only to realize they had taken exactly what he’d relied on to hide his expression. Sole laughed. “You should smile more often, Mac. It suits you.” 

He let the silence take back over as they turned back around to walk properly, their hips settling back into their usual swing, a light whistle coming from their pursed lips, gun slung over their shoulder. A sight to behold, the post-War Mona Lisa; everyone wanted to know what their secret was, what gave them such confidence and power. After debating for a moment, MacCready spoke again. “RJ.”

Sole turned their head, eyebrows raised cheerfully. “Sorry?”

“RJ MacCready. That’s my name.”

Sole grinned. “RJ.” It fell far too casually from their lips for the way it affected him. 

Maybe that was their secret. They didn’t have anything hidden talent that lured people to them, no way of seducing; it was simply them that had people falling to their feet, their loud laugh and their delighted grins. They didn’t have to lift a finger, just simply open their mouth, and Mac knew he’d chase them over hell and creation if he had to.

#Fallout 4 #Fo4 #Fo4f #Fallout 4 February #MacCready #RJ MacCready #Oneshot #Imagine #Fanfiction #Fanfic #FF

[commonwealthoccurences]

What Doesn’t Kill You

CW: Pain, taking of medication, facial scar description

Word Count: 2,194

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Day: 5

Gage was perhaps the most difficult part of taking over the role of Overboss for Sole.

He was helpful, for the most part, in his signature gruff way, motivated by his own interests and wellbeing, for which they couldn’t blame him. He was well trained and well equipped, never seeming to get caught off guard in a fight, always quick to be on the defensive. He held his own with the raider gangs and their verbal abuse and the undermining words they threw at him. Gage, overall, was just fine.

Something about that bothered Sole. They had never met a plain person in the Commonwealth, for better or for worse. The trader that hoarded cats made a good cup of tea, the Diamond City school teacher could spin stories off the top of his head to rival Old World novels, and even Dogmeat seemed to hold a world of information in his big, brown eyes. And yet Gage kept to himself, kept quiet, and got the job done. That was it. It was dissatisfying, like an itch they couldn’t scratch; the more he brushed them off and held back, the more Sole desperately wanted to know. The more they wanted to earn their trust, and see his true personality, the person he kept locked away from the rest of the Commonwealth.

They weren’t obvious about it. Any outright questions were dodged or straight up ignored by Gage, so they’d long learned to be more tactical about their approach. Starting with small questions and working their way up. A casual conversation about preferring coffee or tea turning into a comment about sibling rivalry. And yet, as always, he was always one step ahead of them. He responded with a mere shrug when they brought up the difficulty of growing up with siblings. Simply twitched an eyebrow when they brought up a debate over which way of planting seeds was better, attempting to find out if he had previously been a farmer. Nothing.

They were desperate to know more about him, wanted to get inside his brain and unwind him from the inside. Eventually, they sat back and stopped asking questions, waiting for him to crack during the ensuing awkward silences. It was a waiting game to see who broke first.

It was an overcast day in the middle of July, the summer’s damp heat being threatened by an incoming group of storm clouds, cloaking the horizon’s sky dark gray, almost black. Gage and Sole were taking the day off for the most part, settling a few arguments between raiders and managing their plans for the future of Nuka World lounged in the Fizztop Grille. Gage’s boot-clad feet were propped up on an empty crate that once held bottles of Nuka Cola, his arms crossed behind his head, Sole laying across the couch across from him. “We should split the territory evenly so no one throws a tantrum.” They rolled a piece of mutfruit over their tongue before crushing it between their teeth with a spray of juice.

Gage watched them carefully, tensed as he attempted to ignore the pain that shot through his eye like lightning. It was sharp, spreading across his temple and forehead, and caused him to cringe. Stormy days never did good things to him.

Sole glanced up from the writing on the papers in front of them. “What’s wrong?” They swallowed the bit of mutfruit and sat up slightly to redirect their attention to Gage.

“What?” His voice was rough.

“You winced. What’s wrong?”

Gage rolled his eyes and got up, twisting his back into a stretch, and walked over to the kitchen area to grab a few Nuka Colas. On his way back to his seat he tossed one at Sole, not bothering to give them any warning for them to catch it, and settled back into his seat with a huff. They caught it on pure reflex and gave him a perturbed glare before they twisted the cap off. The ice cold bottle provided some relief from the pressing, wet heat that surrounded them at the top of the Grille. 

They sighed. “Really, Gage. What’s up with you? You’ve been off all day.”

“It’s nothin’, Boss. What were ya saying about the territory?”

Even as he continued through the sentence he clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth as he spit the words out. Sole caught their tongue between their teeth and narrowed their eyes at him, drumming their fingers against the cold glass of the Nuka Cola bottle, examining him carefully. Slowly, they eased upright and swung their legs off the couch to lean forward. He shook his head. “Seriously. ‘m just peachy, keep up with the business talk.”

Sole ignored him and eased themself to their feet, grasping their Cola and walking around the coffee table to stand in front of him. In the moment before they continued what they were doing he flinched again, hard, at the electric pain that shot through his eye. They pressed their lips together and nodded when his actions confirmed what they suspected and walked around to the back of his chair.

Carefully, they reached out and gently pressed the side of the Nuka Cola to his cheekbone and temple, sporting a crooked smile when he let out a quiet sigh of relief at the feeling. They smoothed a hand over the side of his neck and moved it down to rest on his shoulder lightly. Gage lost himself for a moment and tilted his head, leaning into the glass and subsequently their hand and closed his eyes. They trailed their fingers back up the skin of his neck and ran a fingertip across his jaw, then turned their hand to brush their knuckles over his cheek. He was drunk on the feeling momentarily, before he suddenly remembered himself. “What are ya doin’, Boss?” His voice was quiet, hesitant, like he didn’t even care enough to ask.

“Trying to get you to relax, at the very least.” Their voice had teasing undertones and he couldn’t help but huff out a laugh.

Breaking the moment, the pain flashed up again. They murmured sympathetically and ran a hand through his hair before pulling away. He started at the loss of contact, disappointed, despite the alarms that were blaring in his head. “I’ll be right back, don’t worry. Gonna get you some painkillers, alright? You’re taking the rest of the day off until this passes.”

“Storm’ll have t’ break.” 

Sole hummed in response and began rummaging through their belongings, looking for pain relievers Curie had gifted them before they left Sanctuary for good. Supposedly, they didn’t do much damage to the internal organs like other wasteland medications, and when they used them once to ease a gunshot wound, it had worked like a charm. Despite the fact that they tried not to show it until that moment, they had a soft spot for Gage, and seeing him in pain was the very last thing they wanted; he deserved nothing but the best.

They returned soon after finding the small, rattling bottle and tapped a couple of pills into their hand as they took the steps to shadow Gage. A clap of thunder echoed out as they held their hand out over his shoulder, tilting their cupped palm when he reached up to take the pills from them. He threw them in his mouth and tipped his head back to dry swallow them, sighing when they finally went down. He paused for a moment, weighing his options. “I’m gonna fuckin’ regret this, but do you care if I take my eyepatch off? ‘s really not helpin’ the pain.” 

Sole responded with a shrug. “Of course not.”

Gage hesitated with his hands poised over the offending metal, debating whether or not he was actually going to remove it. Politely, Sole averted their eyes so as not to put pressure on him, and returned to holding the Nuka Cola against his skin, though the initial ice-cold had faded into a light coolness, hardly keeping back the heat of the evening. The air was still thick with the promise of rain, the humidity choking, but hinting relief in the distant future. They closed their eyes and embraced the electrically charged atmosphere, acting oblivious to Gage’s movements as he unbuckled the leather strap that held his eyepatch on and turned to look at them.

It was something he didn’t reveal to anyone, his eye. Admitting weakness wasn’t exactly his thing, and that’s how he saw his marred eye, despite the way Sole would scold him for it, the scar jagged and harsh against the rest of his skin, his whited-out pupil. He preferred it hidden away, like the rest of his perceived weaknesses, but God was the pain killer whenever it decided to make a comeback, usually whenever a storm was moving in.

Sole’s eyes flickered open and they examined the rapidly darkening sky with a hum of approval, appreciating the way lightning flashed in the distance, barely visible against the horizon. He reached up and removed the soda from their grip, setting it on the table next to him before leaning back into their hand. This caught their attention and they looked down at him, smile brightening when they saw he’d felt comfortable enough to go through with removing his patch.

Their other hand moved up, slowly, to brush their thumb against the bottom of his scar, feather light. When he flinched they simply lowered their hand again to rest on his shoulder for a moment before they leaned down and brushed their nose against the skin just below his ear, tempted to leave a kiss behind, but terrified to overstep boundaries. After a moment of him holding his breath in suspense, they pulled away, their hand dragging across his shoulder as they left and moved to the front of the Fizztop Grille, and leaned against the wobbly railing.

A goddamn tease, as always. It seemed there was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that they were allowed to tease, to push buttons and tiptoe the line, as long as things didn’t affect their professionalism amongst the raider gangs. The day that the raiders sensed a weakness they’d latch on with sharp fangs and wouldn’t let go until the soft spot was ripped apart. 

Gage reached up and pressed his fingertips against his cheekbone just under his eye. The throbbing continued and he resisted the urge to knock his head against the table, inhaling sharply through his gritted teeth. This caught Sole’s attention and they turned away from the now-murky sky and raked their eyes over him in concern. “Lay down.” They instructed firmly, leaving no room for argument as they returned swiftly to stand next to the couch.

He eased himself out of the chair with an annoyed grimace and threw himself down on the couch. He regretted it instantly. Sure, Gage had no trouble making his displeasure at being ordered around known, though he was used to it, but maybe quick movements weren’t the best idea when it seemed his eye was trying to eject itself from his head. He rested his aching head against the arm of the couch and looked up at Sole with wary expectancy.

They tossed the long forgotten papers they’d been looking over earlier to the side and reached under the coffee table, fingers searching for something. Sole let out a pleased sound when they gripped a slick material and pulled, removing a book from the depths of the shelf and plopping their hips down next to Gage’s. “Move over.” They requested, a tad kinder in tone than their previous orders.

Reluctantly, he complied, and shifted himself further against the back of the couch. Sole swung their legs up next to his, not quite as reclined, their shoulder at eye level for him. After a moment of fumbling they arranged themselves comfortably on the cushioned fabric and Sole began flipping through the pages, working their teeth against the inside of their cheek absentmindedly. They reigned victorious as they flipped to the first page of their book and wiggled slightly to emphasize their comfort. Just as they cleared their throat, Gage piped up. “Ya gonna read to me? Not twelve, ya know.” His voice was a grumble, masking the slight bashfulness in his tone.

“You sure as hell act like you are. Now shut up and go to sleep, you big baby.” Their voice had little bite despite their words.

He resigned himself to his fate and attempted to relax into the furniture, his head leaned against their shoulder as they began to read aloud. It wasn’t long before the pain medication kicked in, coaxing him into fully easing his weight against them, his eyes drifting closed. Their voice was a pleasant hum as he drifted off, just as the tension in the air broke and rain began to pour down. The night passed with the thundering drum of rain, Gage pressed into Sole’s side, their arm wrapped around his shoulders, book folded against their chest from when they fell asleep reading, head tilted back against the arm of the couch.

#Fallout 4 #Fo4 #Fallout 4 February #Fo4f #Gage #Fluff #Hurt comfort #Oneshot #Imagine