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danses-with-dogmeat · 2 years

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Day 6 -- Travis Miles

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober, Day 6 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don't interact.

Deep Throating with Travis x g/n! Sole/Reader

Just a note, this is with a Pre-Confident Man Travis! Just because he is superior that way fits the prompt better like that, I think. 🤷‍♂️ But AH, have I mentioned how much I love Travis? Oh, I have? Well, I'm here to say it again. I LOVE this man so dang much, he deserves everything <3

Here is the link to the Kinktober 2022 Event list so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

I hope y'all enjoy!

Includes: Deep throating, making out, dry humping, first times, blow jobs, first time blow jobs, cum swallowing, cum shot, pillow talk, Travis being awkward and adorable and Sole LOVING it

3.8k words.

His lips were still, tentative, but curious against yours, the hesitancy propelling you forwards in an act of compensation for his own uncertainty. You prodded at his lips with your tongue, grinning at the way his body tensed, the way his hand flexed from where it laid on your thigh. You pulled away slightly, testing, and Travis did just as you hoped, following the feel of your mouth as it nearly left him.

Your hand brushed over his jaw, your lips relenting to his pursuit as your fingers grazed over the nape of his neck, the short, black hairs there tickling over your skin. Another asking prod of your tongue, and he relented, opening his mouth slowly to allow you to explore. A vibration ran through from him to you as he groaned some semblance of your name against you, his contact deepening at the feel of you, at the taste, at the overwhelming and unfamiliar sensation.

Travis scooched closer to you on the couch, one knee bumping into yours as he laid a hand at your waist without any semblance of previous consideration.

It made you smile against him.

Travis’s thoughts, once moving faster within his mind than the Diamond City radio waves he sends hurtling through the Commonwealth, now slowed to a dense pace; no thought able to form completely before it was pushed aside by another. It was one of the first times in his life that Travis felt like he was acting on pure instinct. He was always so thoughtful, worrisome, to the point of crippling immobility, but now he could reflect your movement against him. It was easy. It was thrilling.

It wasn’t nearly as frightening as he’d worried it’d be.

It was the first time in a long time– maybe ever that he really felt… alive. Like he was living, instead of just existing. Just trying to survive.

Your hand pulled his face closer to yours as you felt his lips knead against you, as you felt his tongue press to yours; and instead of pulling away, panicked, as you’d come to expect, he dragged the muscle against yours, coating your mouth in his taste, and your mind in arousal.

You delighted in his exploration, in this confidence, whether it was purposeful on his part or not, and dared to press a little further. The couch creaked as you shifted, and Travis’s eyes peeped open to watch as you turned and brought one leg over him, straddling his lap while remaining pressed against him all at once. Both of his hands migrated to your hips, hungry to touch, but unwilling to grope as he kept the contact light against you.

A slew of nonsensical expletives rattled around his head at your newfound closeness, a certain anxiety picking up where he’d thought it had begun to settle. It was hard to focus on, but there was something just… off. Something that he was worried about but unable to identify, something that had been pounding on the backdoor of his mind to get in, but that had been muffled and erased by the music you were making as you moved against him.

In the next moment though, as you shifted forward in his lap, pressing closer to him, it all came crashing back into his mind. Travis pulled away as his heart leapt in his chest, his hands forcing you back– not off of him, but backwards to settle at the end of his thighs, just over his knees.

Your features crinkled in bafflement, eyes blinking open in surprise at his sudden outburst.

What happened?

The fog slowly cleared from your mind, and Travis’s crimson face came into focus, his eyes wide with–

Fear?

“Travis?” You ventured quietly as he stared blankly downwards with wide eyes, his gaze settling on nothing you could see, some thought deep in his head.

“I-I’m sorry.” He whispered.

Your brows furrowed.

“Sorry? What… What are you sorry for, baby?”

“That wasn’t… I mean– I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t trying to make you–” His breaths kept cutting off his voice, and you flinched at the panic you could see flashing over his features.

“Hey.” You said softly, one hand gently pressing to his chin, pulling his gaze up to meet yours. “I’m alright, Travis. Better than alright. I don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.”

His gaze flicked away again, his cheeks growing redder before your very eyes.

“You… you, ah, you didn’t feel it?”

You cocked your head, forcing your face into his line of sight.

“I don’t think so, but… for arguments sake, you wanna tell me what I may or may not have felt?”

“It…” He started, shaking his head before he could even get another word out. “It’s not really worth even mentioning. At all. It’s just… It’s disrespectful. It’s not– I mean, I just don’t want to insult you. Or anything.”

Disrespectful? What? His tongue in my mouth? His hands on my waist? Hell, I did all of that first, should I be the one apologizing?

“I didn’t see it as insulting. Or disrespectful. In fact, I… I like it. A lot.” You chuckled, feeling a heat of your own touch your cheeks. “I thought you did too.”

“I-I did!” His head snapped up, eyes meeting yours of his own accord this time, “I did. Do. I really– I liked it. I just… So, ah, so you’re not… um, mad?”

You broke into a grin, shaking your head.

“Not in the slightest. I like you, remember? A lot.” You pressed forward, catching his cheek beneath your lips in a swift kiss. “And… I want to keep, um, liking you a little more tonight. If you want that too.”

Travis’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his ears burning, but he nodded to you quickly.

“Y-yes. I, ah, I think I would like that.”

You laughed, even as you pressed your lips to his again, your hands returning to wrap around the back of his neck as you shifted forward in his lap, to get as close as you tried to before he’d pushed you away.

Travis’s breath caught in his throat as his hands tightened against you, but he met your fervor as though he hadn’t just been overwhelmed by it.

If that’s even what happened. You thought, still hung up on his apology. I’m not even sure I know what–

You squeaked involuntarily as you felt him groan into your mouth at the new contact. Just as you scooted forward to press your sternum to his, you felt it.

Ah. That must have been it.

A hardened bulge pressed into your thigh through the thick fabric of his jeans, and suddenly the apology made sense. In regards to Travis, anyway. In your eyes though, this really wasn’t something he should be apologizing for.

You carried on as though you’d expected to feel it, your fingers grasping at the back of his head, pulling him closer into your heated contact, and even took it a step further, grinding your hips subtly against him to try and bring his growing erection a bit of relief.

Travis gasped from under you, his hands reaching of their own accord to grasp at the small of your back, pressing you firmly to him, holding you close, and helping you to grind over his hardon.

You obliged him, winding your hips in a motion that left your partner breathless as his mouth pressed to yours more firmly than he’d meant to.

“S-sole.” He moaned against you, into you, and you felt yourself shudder at the sound.

That. You thought. I need more of that.

“Baby.” You tried to get his attention, tried to pull away to ask your question, to plead your case, but Travis’s lips followed suit, groaning into you, and you felt his hips roll to meet your contact, pressing his erection harder into your center with every needy buck against you.

“Travis, baby.” You tried again, the need building up in your core with each hot breath spilled over you, each grind of him against you, with the way he opened his eyes and his pupils were twice the proper size.

He didn’t speak, maybe he couldn’t, but he made a questioning noise as his eyes blinked at you curiously.

“I wanna try something. I want more of you.” You practically growled out the last of it.

Even through the thickness of his jeans, you could feel the way your words made him throb.

“O-okay.” He managed to breathe out.

You smiled at him, licking your lips unwittingly as you pressed forward to give him a quick kiss.

His hands followed you as you rose up, stepping off of his lap. He leaned forward, his expression uncertain as he tried to puzzle through your next move in his hazy state of mind.

“Just… try and relax for me, alright?” You said as your fingers brushed the hem of your shirt. He nodded to you, despite his clear uncertainty, even as you pulled your top off over your head.

Travis’s eyes widened, and he quickly looked away, down at his feet.

Your eyebrows creased together at his action.

“Hey.” You knelt down so you could be face-to-face with him, laying one hand gently on his knee. “I want you to see me like this, or I wouldn’t have taken it off. It’s not disrespectful, or wrong, okay?”

Travis nodded, and slowly, his eyes made their way to your face, grazing up over your bare chest quickly, as though he were still in need of your permission to look.

He took a deep breath.

“A-alright. ‘M sorry.” He whispered the last bit, and you felt your chest ache.

“You don’t have to apologize. This is all new. We’re just figuring it out together.” You kissed him again, and he kissed right back without the hesitation that had always been present before. It may be slow going, it may be different and unprecedented, but progress was being made. Comfortability and trust were being established, and his earnestness, his honesty and good intentions… fuck, if that all didn’t make you want to be with him even more.

Your hands pushed at his knees as you pulled your mouth from him, encouraging him to spread his legs so you could settle between them, and though he looked uncertain, he yielded to the pressure of your hands against him.

“If you get uncomfortable at all, just tell me and I’ll stop, okay?” You looked up at him as your fingertips dragged further up his thighs.

Travis nodded, his hands shaking as he placed them on either side of his legs on the couch. But he gave you a definite nod.

“If not though, just try and relax. Just enjoy.”

Your fingers met at the button of his jeans, popping it open slowly and taking your time dragging down the zipper.

“I’m happy to be doing this. I want this, okay? So try and not be too concerned about me.”

A bead of sweat trailed down the side of his face, but he nodded to you again; all he seemed to be capable of doing in his current state.

You smiled as you pulled at his jeans, your hands moving to the hem of them to try and bring them further down his legs to pile on the floor.

Travis swallowed hard, his eyes wide through the whole ordeal, and you swore you could feel his rapid, pounding heartbeat, even through the skin of his hips.

His breath caught in his throat as you moved to pull his boxers down as well, his fingers clenching over the couch until they turned bone-white.

“You okay, honey?” Your thumb stroked soothingly over his hip bone.

“Yeah. Yeah… I-I think I am. It’s just, well, just that no one– this is the first time, um… I’ve never done this before.” He finally admitted, the words leaving his tongue like he was spitting out poison. Poison he wished, with everything in him, that he could swallow down.

You smiled at him, your thumb continuing its miniscule movements over his heated skin.

“That’s okay.” You assured him, “It doesn’t change how much I want you.”

He bit his lip thoughtfully, but his shoulders seemed to relax a bit at that.

“But if you feel like you’re not ready, we can wait. I’m happy to do that too, if it’s what you want.”

“I…” He started, but a frown stole the words from him as his lip trembled from the wave of emotion you inspired.

“I really like you, Sole.” His hand touched yours, still trembling, but certain in this movement he made towards you. “And… I think I– yeah, I, ah, I want to keep going.”

Your hand grasped his and brought it to your lips briefly as you smiled up at him.

“I really like you too, baby.” You told him, placing his hand back on the couch and returning yours to the hem of his underwear. You pulled the garment down slowly, helping to ease the tight hem over his erection as it sprang up to bump at his stomach. The darkened head of him was already glistening with pre-cum, and you found yourself licking your lips again at the thought of tasting him for the first time. At him feeling you for the first time.

Despite the crimson absolutely overtaking his every feature, Travis lifted his hips and allowed you to pull down his jeans and underwear until they pooled around his ankles. Your hands smoothed over his thighs, spreading him a little further as you ducked your head towards him. Eyes glued to his, even as you could feel him trying not to break the contact, you leaned your face towards him, pressing one delicate kiss to the underside of his shaft.

Travis’s body shook at the feel of another’s lips pressed to him. To that part of him.

Your lips. He reminded himself.

He hated to admit it, but your lips had been the object of numerous fantasies of his, the thoughts always coming to his mind on those nights he felt frustrated enough to lay a hand over himself and stroke until he was biting back the sound of your name. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but it’s still something he did.

But he didn’t want to think about that now. He didn’t have to. He wasn’t thinking about it now, he was living it, and you… You seemed to be loving it as much as he was.

Travis breathed hard as you continued pressing kisses over his erection, fighting the urge to thrust his hips forward into the overwhelming contact. The softness of your lips was amplified against his sensitive skin, and when you swiped your tongue over the head of his cock, he nearly shouted at the feeling. It felt like lightning, like when he was shocked by a wire while making repairs to his radio, sending a white-hot surge up through his spine.

“Mm,” Your lips rumbled against him as you hummed, “Let me hear you, baby.”

You licked him again, this time starting at the base and dragging your tongue all the way back up to his tip, and he couldn’t help but groan at the heat of it, at the wetness, at the chill of the air surrounding you both, in comparison to your searing tongue. The feeling of it, the sight of you, shirtless and kneeling between his thighs, the touch of your hands as one rested on his thigh, while the other moved to guide his cock towards your open lips, he could’ve busted there and then.

Travis closed his eyes tightly, his stomach flexing at the new contact you were introducing. Your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock, suckling slightly, before pushing down to ease the majority of his length inside your warm, inviting mouth.

“Ahh.” He groaned, breathless.

“O-oh. Sole, I-I..” His panting breaths interrupted him, and as you pulled your mouth back, sucking hard as you went until only the sensitive tip of him remained, he couldn’t seem to remember what he was going to say.

You grinned at the sound of your name on his tongue, breathless and needy, music to your ears that was catchier than any song he played on his station. You knew that sound would be repeating in your head like a mantra for hours to come.

You felt his cock pulse against your tongue as you attentively sucked at his head, slotting your tongue over his slit just in time to catch the bead of salty pre-cum that spilled from him. Travis groaned again, his hips bucking mutedly as he tried to hold back from shoving his length down your throat.

Not that you would mind that.

With the thought effectively inspired in your head, you descended on him again, taking his length as far into your mouth as you could, and staying there as you heard a moan drag from his lips.

Travis was a mess under your attentions. Sweat dripped from him, his hands trembled, his voice was growing weak from use, every vein felt like it was on fire, and the pressure, oh, the pressure that was building up in his painfully hard cock was unbearable.

“S-sole. I don’t– I’m gonna…” He grunted, and you felt his cock hit the back of your throat as his hips canted against you. “I’m not, ah, I don’t think I’m gonna last.”

He managed to force the words out, even as you gagged from the pressure of his tip bumping the back of your throat.

Honey, I could’ve told you that. You thought, all that could be achieved of a grin spreading across your full, parted lips.

You hummed against him, hearing him stutter again at the vibrating stimulation, and pulled your head back, before plunging forward again. You bobbed your head over him quickly, determined to feel that throb within the confines of your mouth, to taste him against your tongue. Another gag was pulled from your throat as you pressed forward all the way again, settling as your tongue swiped over him and tears collected in your eyes. You pulled back only to take in air through your nostrils, your lips gripping hard at the skin of his shaft before you pushed forward again, until your nose pressed to his pelvic bone.

Travis’s stomach shook as it clenched, and you felt another throb pulse against your tongue and throat. You pulled away one final time before pressing forward hard, swallowing through your tears around his length until he cried out, and you felt warmth spurt down your throat.

You sucked at him greedily as you pulled back just enough to feel his cock throbbing on your tongue, coating the inside of your mouth with his cum. Not a blissful moment later, and you felt hands at your shoulders, pushing you back and off of his cock. Your eyes blinked open in surprise, noting the panic in your partner’s expression just before feeling a burst of cum land on your cheek. Unwittingly, you flinched at the feeling, and you heard Travis yelp as he watched it happen.

He opened his mouth to speak, his hand grasped around his still-pulsing cock as he rode out the final moments of his release, pointing it down and spurting what was left onto the floor between your bodies.

“S-sole, I–”

You laughed at him, a grin breaking through your surprise as you wiped the glob of his cum from your face with your fingers.

Travis was panting, mouth still open as if to speak as he looked at you with shock in his eyes.

“A-are you– How? How can you be o-okay with this? I just–”

“I know,” You managed between feverish breaths, chest heaving with uncontained laughter. “I know, no, you should’ve just left–” You were cut off by another bout of giggles at the look Travis was giving you.

He didn’t understand, he… He felt like you should be angry with him, but he wasn’t entirely sure why.

“It’s fine, Travis. These things happen sometimes, it’s okay.” You put a hand on his thigh, stroking over it as you brought the fingers of your other hand, the one that still had a bit of his milky release on its fingers, to your mouth, cleaning them off slowly as you held your partner’s gaze.

Travis’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.

“Y-you just…” He shook his head.

“What?” You asked, holding back another chuckle. “Baby, I just had your whole cock in my mouth. You think I’d be bothered by a bit of cum? That’d be like being mad about finding water in a canteen.”

You clambered up to sit beside him on the couch as he worked on pulling his pants back up to his waist.

“I guess, yeah. That makes sense. I just… I’m s–”

“Please don’t apologize to me again.” You rested your head against his shoulder as Travis leaned back on the couch, his anxiety finally expelled enough for him to relax against you.

“Okay.”

You smiled at that, basking in the contented quiet that surrounded you both as you wrapped your arms around his waist, and his head fell to lean on yours.

“So… um,” You bit your lip, wondering if the question was a little presumptuous. You decided to ask it anyway.

“How was your first time?”

You felt his head shake against yours.

“I… um, don’t know that I can describe it…”

Your brows furrowed a bit at that.

“But it… was incredible. So much better than I’ve ever, ah, imagined, and you… You were just amazing. Better than I’ve ever…”

He cut himself off, heat rising to his ears at what he was just about to admit.

“Hmm.” You hummed, arms tightening around him. “I’m glad, baby.”

You paused. Is it a good idea to draw attention to something he’s clearly embarrassed about? You struggled with it for a moment, but thought about what you would want in his situation.

He deserves to know.

“And…” you continued, “You were better, too. Better than I ever imagined you would be.”

Travis’s heart raced in his chest at your admission, but he warmed all the same.

“I… I wanna do something for you. Next time. When you’re ready. If you want.”

He felt your lips spread against his shoulder in a grin.

“I’d like that.” You pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Next time for sure. For now though… I just want to be close to you.”

Travis nodded at that, his heart full at the feel of you beside him, the admission that you wanted him, just as he wanted you.

I really like them… his mind said again, even as he felt himself begin to doze off against you.

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout companions #fallout npcs #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 npcs #travis fo4 #travis miles #travis miles x reader #travis miles x g/n! Sole #sole #sole survivor #gn! sole survivor #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #dwd.nsfw

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wispystar · 2 months

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☁︎·̩͙✧

spencer reid

✦ = finished | ✧ = not finished

Feel free to recommend me some more fics! If there is any author that doesn’t want their work on here pls let me know and I’ll remove it. Series are at the bottom. Be warned for spoilers. I will not be adding spoiler warings so tread lightly please lmk if links arent working

—-

A Well Kept Secret by @astrophileous

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader | summary: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret. | tw/warnings: established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption

A Little (Major) Crush by @radiant-reid

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer's coldness is interpreted as hate for a very long time until a little admission leads to him accepting th truth

A memorable hero by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: Y/n jumps into the arms of a random FBI agent when she unknowingly talks to a to unsub.

All stitched up by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, nurse reader | summary: Spencer's unexpected arrival at Y/n's work worries her

all is fair in love and war by @/radiant-reid

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Can the team convince two arch-enemies that they’re in love with each other?

Already gone . ii by @favficarchives

genre: angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: The reader decides it’s time for her to move on, and Reid realizes it might be too late to stop her.

Appalachian by @/imagining-in-the-margins

genre: fluff, slight angst, gn reader, bau reader | summary: Reader is tired of Spencer purposefully pushing their buttons and demands an explanation.

babied by @reiderwriter

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Can I request a Spencer babying the reader BAU and everyone on the team is so done with it but reader is confused and oblivious...?

Bolinus Brandaris . ii by @violetrainbow412-blog

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau! reader summary: Reid loves the gift you just gave him and the whole team can notice.

Bedtime Stories on the Jet by @imagining-in-the-margins

genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: You and Spencer accidentally cuddle on the jet.

Betting game by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: the team betting on the two youngest agents relationship

combat practice . ii by @/reiderwriter

genre:fluff, fem reader, bau! reader | summary: pining spencer reid and bau!reader who are brushing up on some hand to hand combat and reader is really invested on winning finally pins spencer down and reader is straddling spencer | notes: there’s a part two but I can’t find it :|

Comme des garçon by @/imagining-in-the-margins

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Reader chooses an interesting way to finally confess to dating Spencer.

cuddles by @/radiant-reid

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, dad! spencer | summary: A cuddle with his son is just the thing Spencer needs when he gets home from a hard case

clingy by @/ddejavvu

genre: angst, fluff, gn reader | summary: When Spencer chides you for being too clingy, you decide to give him exactly what he wants; space.

carriage six . ii by @avis-writeshq

genre: fluff, fem reader, strangers to lovers | summary: Spencer Reid prides himself in his routine. Wake up at half-past six. Leave his apartment at a quarter past seven. Get onto the seven thirty train. Arrive at Quantico at eight forty five. He has a plentiful of reasons as to why he does it; it’s efficient, it gets him to the office early, it works. But the biggest reason is the girl that always sits in the seat a few rows across from him, headphones on and always reading a book.

color theory by @inkdrinkerworld

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: okay wait i could totally see like kinda maybe insecure chubby reader who obvs likes Spence cuz who wouldn’t but afraid to make the first move and early seasons Spencer makes some off handed comment about how beautiful reader is like not even thinking about it maybe during a little tangent or something and r is just like

Caught in a lie by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: spencer catching you in a lie about a certain cardigan.

despise by @leahblackk

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Reader is new in the BAU, Spencer doesn’t like changes therefore he doesn’t like reader.

double vision in a rose blush by @irndad

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: she is the best part of his days, his life, these days, really. the only problem is she never touches him

Different ways to say ‘I love you’ by @aneveningsword

genre: fluff, gn reader | summary: 3 different ways Spencer shows he loves you

Dad Spencer by @golden1u5t

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: bringing lunch to the bau and hanging out with Spence

Defining Family by @/imagining-in-the-margins

genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, dad Spencer | summary: Spencer finds out he’s a dad… to a twelve year old girl. Your twelve year old girl, who just broke into the FBI.

Every single day by @/astrophileous

genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, dad Spencer | summary: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

Flirt by @luveline

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader I summary: bombshell!reader hears one of the team members teasing about how she's torturing spencer and she kinda backs off with the flirting and maybe it's his turn to hold her hand and call her cute names because even though he always says he doesn't mind, maybe he does and he just doesn't want to tell her

Familiar by @/radiant-reid

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer’s secret way to sleep is revealed in a moment of upset

Fever Dream by @/imagining-in-the-margins

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Reader makes an accidental confession, which starts the most intense game of hide and seek.

Flowers by @/ddejavvu

genre: fluff, gn reader(?), bau reader | summary: could you write abt spencer & bau!reader (secret relationship) and spencer having flowers delivered to their work and the note is really sweet (clearly from a boyfriend) and the team trying to figure out who she's seeing?

Glasses by @/luveline

genre: fluff, fem reader summary: i NEED anything with glasses reid or munch reid i'm literally frothing at the mouth

Guilt . ii by @holly-the-trash-writer

genre: angst, fem reader, bau! reader summary: Y/n lies unconscious in a hospital bed while Spencer drowns in guilt. You had felt that Spencer was cheating on you with Maeve and were going to stay with someone else before you got shot. Finding this out causes Spencer to snap and lash out at one of his closest friends.

his picture in a gold locket by @luvingspence

genre: fluff, fem reader, early season Spence | summary: spencer gets emotional once he realises how much his girlfriend loves him <3

how everyone found out by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: a little blurb about how each of the team members found out about a secret BAU relationship

In Ruins . ii by @weehelers

genre: angst, fem reader, bau! reader | summary: spencer reid has always had something against you. during a particular case, spencer snaps and says something he shouldn't have said leaving you in ruins. but what happens when your in danger and he still hasn't explained why he reacted the way he did. will he have the time? tw/warnings: kidnapping, normal cm warnings

I can see you by @/reiderwriter

genre: angst, slight fluff, gn reader(?), bau reader | summary: Six months into your secret relationship, you're beginning to think that maybe Spencer doesn't love you the way you love him

If you won’t do it, I will. by @/eideticallys

genre: fluff, angst, gn reader, bau reader| summary: you were so engrossed with images of you kissing Reid and him kissing you back that you forgot one detail—the man could wake up at any moment without you noticing. and he did wake up. You just failed to notice, too busy ogling his pink lips.

I’ll Hold Your Weight When You Can’t by @shewroteaworld

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Brilliant sunshine!reader gets heat stroke on a case. Your best friend, Spencer Reid, is predictably worried about you. What he doesn't expect is to be forced to come to terms with his feelings for you. | tw/warnings:

Just some light stalking by @constantlyembarrassed

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: Penelope has been pushing Spencer Reid to get some form of social media for years. Suddenly, he has an Instagram acount?

Key by @ddejavvu

genre: fluff, gn reader(?) | summary: spencer and reader start getting more comfortable in their relationship and they exchange keys to each others places, reader starts going over while hes away. just to chill because she misses him or borrow something or get something she left. but then dhe notices his apartment is a little messy and he doesnt have a lot of food in the fridge.

lovely by @lighteyed

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: you think spencer's lovely.

lipstick by @/radiant-reid

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Maybe, the secret to putting a murderer away is kissing someone you dislike

little touches by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Just a few moments where Spencer learns how much he loves touches

Misplaced by @/ddejavvu

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau! reader summary: can i request spencer reid w bau!reader and their married but reader forgets to put her wedding ring back on and derek's asking spencer about what happened/if theyre having marital problems and spencer starts panciking but she just forgot about it in her pocket

Meeting the team by @tinyluvs

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: Being spencer’s girlfriend and meeting the team for the first time?

Mirror by @moonstruckme

genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: BAU!Reader and maybe her and Spencer starting to mimic each other because they've been together for a while and spend so much time together? Like the way they talk, etc!

My wife . ii by @golden1u5t

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader, secret relationship | summary: where you and spencer are married in secret and someone says reid and they both turn around and say ‘yeah’ that’s how the team find out they’re together

my petite protégée by @somethingubercool

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Y/N is new to the BAU and works under Garcia. she finds herself being able to see something in the case no one else does, impressing the team, including a specific doctor

New Shade of Green by @sweatervest-obsessed

genre: fluff, angst, gn reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer Reid and reader are in established relationship and on a case it happens that reader's best friend since childhood assists. And Spencer gets really jealous of their close friendship but is in denial.

newly creds by @pathologicalreid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: in which the BAU team wants to see your newly issued credentials

Profilers Profiled by @/radiant-reid

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Cat Adams exposes a secret relationship

Patch Me Up? Always by @weird-is-life

genre: fluff, fem reader, emt! reader I summary: Spencer accidently reveals your relationship, while you patch him up

Packed Lunch by @john-get-the-salt

genre: fluff, fem reader, established relationship, secret relationship | summary: One morning Spence is in a rush to leave for work and forgets his lunch. You know he gets cranky when he gets hungry, so that only leaves one option.

Perhaps One Day by @amberjazmyn

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: five times the bau think spencer has proposed to reader + the one time he actually has

Play Dates by @/imagining-in-the-margins

genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: Reader finds out Spencer hasn’t had enough dates to play Best/Worst Date with the team and offers several Play Dates, but quickly realizes it’s hard to have a bad date with Spencer Reid.

Personal Google . ii by @reidyoulikeabook

genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer is your own personal Google. He always knows the answer to anything you ask him.

Recharging… by @railingsofsorrow

genre: fluff, fem reader, | summary: spencer's best remedy is his little family.

Short Circuit by @/tinyluvs

genre: fluff, gn reader, established relationship I summary: dating spencer and you come to visit or something and make him so distracted that he literally can't info dump on something and the rest of the team is just shocked

Sweater by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: On a case in Montana, Y/n’s only coat gets ruined. Luckily, Spencer had a hoodie

Soft spot by @/luveline

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau! reader | summary: your singular soft spot for spencer rises to the surface when you get hurt in the field. tw/warnings: hospitals, injury

still mad at you by @/irndad

genre: angst, fluff(?), fem reader | summary: Spencer can’t sleep without you, even if you’re fighting.

sick by @/ddejavvu

genre: fluff, fem reader| summary: What about spencer with a reader who is normally so independent and does everything for herself but she’s so soft for spencer and lets him dote on her and take care of her and the team is like :o bc they can’t believe she is letting someone do things for her

Smells Fishy by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Out of place perfume and cologne give away a secret relationship of the BAU.

Soulmates by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Everyone knew Y/n and Spencer would be the perfect couple, it was just a shame he left the BAU before she joined.

secrets . ii by @007reid

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader | summary: spencer will never be able to escape the effortless wrath of derek morgan, not even when it's the weekends and breaking bad is playing and you're pulling on his hair.

surprise by @toriwakes

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: reid’s new girlfriend decides to surprise him at work.

Secrets out by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: a coffee cup reveals a relationship

secrets and onesies by @/wheelsup

genre: fluff, fem reader, dad Reid | summary: in which spencer is hiding two secrets from you. one, that he knows you’re pregnant, and two, that he’s more than ready for it.

The jacket . ii by @in-my-shifting-era

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: when in Boston for a case in mid January reader regrets not being a warmer jacket.

The guaranteed way to get sleep by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer is the only one who can recognize the signs of needing someone in the new agent

Two of us . ii . iii by @spencerreidreads

genre: angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: working with your partner can be hard especially when the relationship is over

Tying the knot by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: a blurb or fic about reader and spencer reid’s wedding day? just lots of fluff and happiness can you do one based on “we belong together” by ritchie valens

thats my wife by @wheelsup

genre: fluff, slight angst(?), fem reader, bau reader | summary: you and spencer have always had a relationship that some refer to as 'work spouses'. it's not until the addition of a new, handsome employee, that spencer has to challenge what that really means to him.

Unwell by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: Instead of getting looked after, Spencer is the one doing the looking after when he realizes his girlfriend is sick.

unexpected . ii by @michelle-is-writing

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader, pregnant reader | summary: it’s hard being in love with a man whose heart is already taken.

Unbelievable but verified by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: The BAU's newest member comes prepared to join the team with a tiny crush on the man who wrote her three favorite thesis papers.

Under the Rain by @aperrywilliams

genre: angst, fem reader, established relationship | summary: Reader is waiting for Spencer in a restaurant to celebrate their 2nd anniversary. What happens when Spencer doesn't show up?

worried by @/moonstruckme

genre: slight angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Spencer is losing his mind when reader is in a dangerous situation and the team doesn’t understand why he’s panicking so much but then he accidentally reveals to the team that he’s been dating reader for awhile

White Lies by @/moonstruckme

genre: fluff, gn reader(?), bau reader | summary: when you come back to work soon after getting injured on a case, your priority is keeping the public safe from your latest unsub; Spencer's priority is keeping you safe

Winter Cold by @/john-get-the-salt

genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: A run-of-the-mill winter cold becomes the thing that finally reveals your secret to the team.

Worry Free by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: After the issues of Spencer’s past year, JJ is worried for him, until she finds out an incredibly interesting piece of information

Who's Your Barber? by @eideticallys

genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: “you move fast, kid.” he turned to spencer who looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “letting Y/N cut your hair without going on a first date.”

What’s in a name . ii by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader, mom reader | summary: Spencer accidentally gets misidentified by a little kid whose mom means the world to him

Your Casanova by @dr-spencer-reids-queen

genre: fluff, fem reader, pilot reader | summary: You're the team's jet pilot who always looks forward to spending time with Spencer Reid. His love for you is unconditional.

You Already Said Yes by @/dr-spencer-reids-queen

genre: fluff, fem reader | summary: Spencer comes home to find your wedding ring on his office desk, and his thoughts run wild.

You Think I'm Delicious? by @/eideticallys

genre: fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: all your dreams and hopes of getting cuddly with spencer were shattered when he uttered those six words “i don’t like your new perfume.”

4+1 cuddling by @/radiant-reid

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: The four times they cuddled before becoming a couple and the one time they cuddled afterward.

—-

✧ A-Z by @spencereidluver

genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, bau! reader | summary: moments of your life with Spencer

—-

more this way ---> spencer reid . ii

#♡ — fics #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid angst #Spencer Reid fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader

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itsokbbygrl · 3 months

Text

An End, A Beginning

Summary: They're dead, they're all dead, and now you're stranded. You're the sole survivor after infection devastated your crew of fellow Fireflies out of Boston tasked with transporting a girl from Massachusetts to Colorado. When the hired smugglers responsible for getting her out of the QZ show up, you find yourself bargaining for your life. After learning one of them was bit somewhere between the edges of the QZ and the old City Hall where your crew was waiting to complete the transfer, and with only moments left to live, the infected smuggler convinces her partner to take you with them in her absence. After a long, hard-fought journey across the country, you're nearly at your ultimate destination and emotions are running high. How will a surprise confession affect the future of your group?

Pairing: Joel Miller x GN!Reader (literally zero physical description of reader, it's YOU)

Length: 1.4k words

Tags: DESCRIPTION OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, emotional constipation, father/daughter dynamics, found family dynamics, kissing, flowery language about a grumpy old man

a/n: hello I had severe brain rot after seeing this beautiful piece of fan art by @minacoleta and had to write about it. this was supposed to be a teeny little drabble but lmao here we are at 1.4k words and while writing it, I decided to perhaps PERHAPS!!!! don't hold me to it expand the story of reader as a third party to our favorite grumpy old man/sassy teenage girl duo. hashtag give ellie more adult supervision support. :) anyway without further ado! here is "An End, A Beginning." please comment/reblog to support your local authors ♡ thank you to my wonderful friends @5oh5 @morgaussy @tightjeansjavi and @javierpena-inatacvest for cheering me on. i luh u. credit to @firefly-graphics for creating the beautiful divider.

“It was me,” Joel blurted out. “I was the one who shot and missed.” Your feet cemented you to your spot and you could see Ellie’s breath hitch, her shoulders raised and fists clenched.

“Ellie, can you check that tent over there and see if there’s any leftover bandages or pain meds?” you ask her in a vain attempt to shield her from enduring anymore unnecessary trauma.

“But–” she starts and stops when she sees the minute shake of your head. She sighs and rolls her eyes, “Fine, I’ll just be over there, pretending I can’t hear the adults talking from 20 feet away” she points over her shoulder at the tattered remains of the first aid tent behind her and shuffles away.

You shake your head fondly. Teenagers.

You take a breath and turn around to face him and find him sitting on an old concrete barrier, looking down at his hands clasped in his lap, seemingly lost in thought. You make your way over to join him.

“There’s no story,” he begins, “Sarah died, and I couldn’t see the point anymore. Simple as that.” He pauses for a moment, using the toe of his worn boot to kick at the broken bits of concrete at his feet. You remain silent, allowing him a breath to compose himself before he continues. “And I wasn’t scared either, I was ready,” he nods his head and furrows his brow as if convincing himself of this fact, “I couldn’t’ve been more ready.” He looks up then, meets your eyes, and you can see the earnestness there. It breaks your heart, understanding how hopeless he felt, the pain he must have been feeling, a pain you can imagine now that you’ve had him, had Ellie, in your life.

He gives a gentle shake of his head and starts to give you more. “But when I–” he stops, words catching in his throat, eyes misting over for a moment, “When I–” he tries again, words continuing to fail him. You reach over and lay a soothing hand on his thigh, encouraging him to drain this wound he’s let fester for the last 20 years, letting him know you aren’t afraid of this, his darkness. You’ll meet him there, find him with nothing more than the persistent thump of his heart to guide you, let your fingertips trace down the familiar topography of his arm, soft hair and bumpy scars texturizing the otherwise warm, soft skin, until they meet his own, intertwining, no longer alone.

His gesture of raising his fingers towards his skull in a mock recreation of a scene that was once all too real pulls you out of your reverie. “But when I went to pull the trigger, I–I flinched.” He gives half a chuckle and shakes his head, like he can’t believe it himself, like he might even feel lucky. It eases some of the tightness in your chest. “Still don’t know why,” he finishes. He takes a final moment to himself, reliving the memory, allowing himself to feel it. He comes back to the present and meets your eyes again. “Anyway, the reason I’m telling you all this is–”

“I know why you’re telling us all this,” Ellie interjects from her position now, just behind your right shoulder. Clever girl, you think, her stealth reminding you of that scene from Jurassic Park, thinking she would love that film and grinning to yourself briefly at the bittersweet memory of something from before times, while simultaneously being both endeared by and frustrated with her tenacity to get what she wants. Joel gives her a glance before fixing his gaze back on the ground in front of him.

“Yeah, I reckon you do,” Joel replies. The three of you allow the moment to breathe, running your thumb idly back and forth across Joel’s thigh where you’ve laid it. A comfort to the both of you. Never one to let things be, Ellie breaks the silence first.

“So, time heals all wounds I guess,” she says flippantly, full of benighted teenage ego.

Joel looks up at her then, eyes serious and full of soft determination, making sure to hold her gaze as he tells her, “It wasn’t time that did it.”

Her eyes widen at his words, like she can’t quite believe them. You let the two of them have their moment. A father and daughter minting the truth of their relationship for the first time. You remove your hand from Joel’s thigh and subtly reach back, grabbing Ellie’s hand as it lays limp at her side, and give her a quick, gentle squeeze before releasing it, keeping slight in your movement, knowing all too well how fiercely independent she is and not wanting to embarrass her at the reminder that, despite her hardness, she’s still a child who needs the physical comfort of a caregiver.

She takes a deep, shaky breath before she speaks, “Well, I’m glad that that didn’t work out.” They’re both valiantly damming tears that threaten to flow, sniffing and nodding at each other.

Joel eventually responds, voice thick with feeling, “Yeah, me too.” He breaks their eye contact then, still nodding to himself for a moment before he reaches his hand to the bridge of his nose, pinching the remaining tears in his eyes away with his thumb and forefinger.

Never one to show her soft underbelly for long, Ellie prompts your little crew to continue on your journey. “We should probably get going,” she says to you both.

“Yup,” Joel agrees, getting back to business, shouldering his pack and standing from his position on the concrete block. Ellie, ever her father’s shadow, follows suit. You take one last second to absorb the remaining energy of the fizzling moment, taking a deep breath before standing and brushing your hands on your dirty, worn jeans. You sling your backpack over your shoulders and give a small jump to resituate its contents into a more comfortable position before catching up to your partner, watching him watch Ellie as she meanders a handful of steps ahead, the distance allowing you a moment of privacy.

“Joel,” you start quietly, not stopping your trek, keeping your eyes steadily focused ahead, “about…all of that,” you wave your hand absently in the air in front of you, trying to remain nonchalant, approaching the great bear of him carefully as though being too honest will cause him to spook, to flee back into his deep, dark cave to protect his freshly opened wound. But you remember your earlier thought, you aren’t afraid of his darkness, you will find him anywhere, so you push on. “I am, too. Glad. I’m so, so glad that didn’t work out.” Your next thought flits through your mind and you smile at its ridiculously honest nature, letting the soft laughter that’s building within you to trill forth from where it was caged behind your teeth. The sound pulls his attention towards you. Fuck it, you decide, if this is the end of the world, the least I can do is give him is truth.

“Thank god you flinched. For that girl, for me. We needed you here,” you shake your head fondly, turning your head to meet his eyes. “You had so much left to live for. I can’t imagine life without you now, you know that? And I’m terrified of what comes next, what happens after we find them. I can’t…I can’t leave her, Joel. I can’t leave you. You’re my family and I can’t–”

Your confession is cut off by the warm press of Joel’s plush, slightly chapped lips against your own. You close your eyes and breathe in through your nose, allowing your hand to find and rest on his firm bicep as you return his kisses in kind, giving as good as you’re getting, deciding if this is the only time you’ll experience him like this, soft and yielding, you’re going to savor it.

He pulls back after a moment, silently holding your gaze.

“Joel, I–” You begin. He shakes his head gently and you quiet.

“I know,” he gives you then. And it’s there in his eyes. He knows. And you know, too. It doesn’t need to be said, not now. You both know and that’s enough. You both face forward and continue your hike, increasing your strides to catch up to Ellie, now a good distance ahead.

Whatever comes next, you know now for sure, you’d both burn down the world to save this.

A/N: thank you so so so much for reading i love u. you can find more of my writing here, if you'd like, and as always comments and reblogs get you a kiss on the forehead and endless positive karma :)

#LJ writes #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou hbo #tlou episode 9 #the last of us fanfiction

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wallflowerimagines · 1 year

Text

Egg's Masterlist

🌺🪷For all my favorite Wallflowers🌸🌼

Last Updated: 4/21/2023

Resident Evil 8: Village

All Four Lords

The Lords React to You Using Slang

The Lords With An Emotionally Distant Partner

The Lords with a Bloodborne Hunter Partner

Virgin Reader wants the Lords as their First

The Lords With a Firebending Partner

The Lords With a Shy but (Hardcore) Protective Partner

Their Partner is Eva Reincarnated

The Lords with a Playfully Affectionate Partner

Their Partner Gets a New Tattoo

Their Partner Dies(Angst)

The Lords + Dimitrescu Daughters React to You going to College

With a Bony, but Cuddly Partner

The Lords With a HANDSY Partner

Their Partner Can See Ghosts

Their Partner Has Chronic Pain

The Lords x Buff! Reader

Their Partner Enjoys Emo and Pop-Punk Music

Their Partner Plays Lots of Instruments

The Lords Milder Kink Headcannons (Suggestive, N*S*F*Wy)

Reader has Horrible Period Cramps

The Lords adopt a Child Reader with Mercury Wings

Reader steals and Wears Their Clothes

Reader Has Gutter Brain and Lives In Horny Jail (Suggestive)

Their Partner Dresses up Fancy

Reader Rejects The Lords (Angst)

Alcina Dimitrescu

Lady Dimitrescu Crush Headcannons

Alcina x Passive! Reader

Lady Dimitrescu's N*S*F*W Preferences(Smut, GN)

Alcina x Dense! Reader

Her Partner Has a Warehouse Job

Alcina x Autistic! Reader

...Their Partner is Eva Reincarnated, Goofy Edition (Suggestive)

Donna Beneviento

Donna Beneviento Crush Headcannons

First Kiss Headcannons

Her Partner Has a Warehouse Job

Touchstarved! Donna x Affectionate! Reader

Donna x VERY SHY! Reader

Donna x Mute! Reader

Relationship Brainrot, Donna Edition

Salvatore Moreau

Salvatore Moreau Crush Headcannons

Moreau x Cuddly! Reader

Moreau x Dense! Reader

Reader Rejects the Other Lords in Favor of Salvatore

Affection Brainrot, Moreau Edition

TouchStarved! Moreau x Affectionate! Reader

Karl Heisenberg

Karl Heisenberg Crush Headcannons

...Their Partner is Eva Reincarnated, Goofy Edition (Suggestive)

The Sales Pitch (Smut, Fem! Reader)

Friends to Lovers Is Cannon Brainrot, Sorry not Sorry

His Partner Attempts Suicide (TW: Suicide)

The Duke

With a HANDSY Partner

Ethan Winters

The Crackship (Ethan x Miranda)

With a Bony, Cuddly Partner

Dimitrescu Daughters

Bela Dimitrescu Crush Headcannons

Cassandra Dimitrescu Crush Headcannons

Daniela Dimitrescu Crush Headcannons

Bela x Magic! Reader

The Daughters and Lady Dimitrescu Are introduced to Sparkling Blood

Fallout 4

Travis Miles Crush Headcannons

Travis Miles Relationship Headcannons

Travis Miles x DJ! Sole Survivor

Vault-Tech Rep Crush Headcannons

Kent Connolly Confession Headcannons

Misc. Imagines

To Be Updated!

#masterlist #egg speaks #egg's masterlist #wallflowerimagines

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whatanightmaregrinch · 7 months

Text

Hancock x GN!Sole Survivor- far off victories

[omg is this actual words on a page?? Hello babies I’m back!!!]

“Hancock?”

“Hmmm…?” Your hands tightened their grip around his torso, and you pressed your face into his back. His soft raspy chuckle at your insistence had him gently pat your soft hand with his ruined one, and then dragged his fingers across your knuckles lightly. “I love you.” Your voice mumbled softly into his coat, and his heart (or whatever ruinous creature that had become it) twinged. It was easy to be gentle to him in moments like this, but he couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering from the endearment; his anxiety swirled as he considered the time limit to your love. He was silent a moment too long, and your hands gripped his shirt, hands almost shaking in the moonlight as you took the rejection. You remained steadfast in your hope, that perhaps in a few months, a few years; he might come around to your type of love. From his slouched position, he took an extra long drag of his cigarette, before stabbing it out on the floor next to him. His shaky exhale hit your ears, and your grip tightened on him. The silence between you both was cavernous- wide and unyielding; until the faintest tremors from his rib cage indicated he was crying. Your lips pressed into a thin line, you frowned, and your grasp went from his shirt to the his hand that had long since disappeared from yours. He clenched onto your palm, and neither of you said a word as you coaxed him through it, his exhausted gasps and horrid sniffs as his whole body was rigid. Minutes ticked away until it turned into an hour; and just when you thought you’d done irreparable damage, he started to come down from it all. His crying got louder; but it signified he could breathe enough to let it out now, slowly riding the wave down as the adrenaline surged in him. He turned suddenly in your arms to face you, biting back a wince as his ribs nearly crushed your elbow as he rolled, and he thrust his face into your neck, finding purchase on you in whatever way he could. In this position, you wrapped your arms around him properly, trying to protect him from the misery he was entrenched in.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, hands right on him as he shook his head into your neck; refusing the apology but unable to explain himself just yet. He couldn’t accept your apology; not after you’d been so open and honest with him. He couldn’t help but seek your comfort, your honesty, your warmth. Travelling with you, fighting by your side- it was something he wanted desperately. He wanted you desperately. But the lack of love he’d received up until this point was so low that he felt like an imposter accepting it. He did not deserve it. He could not explain this to you, but he felt like on some level, you had already understood it would be like this. When he had explained to you how he felt in the beginning, and you’d surprised him and told him you wanted something more with him, he’d nearly rejected you. How could you love a face like this? These hands, covered in the blood of people I’d betrayed. His thoughts drifted to you; and how you’d sacrificed so much. Your partner, your family- everything by being thrust forward in time to an almost unrecognisable, hellish sham of what your life used to be. And yet, he could not bring himself to be brave with his feelings the way you could, the way you faced each day with a tired smile, ready to make something anew with everything you had been handed. Perhaps one day, he’d be able to return your mumbled praises, tell you how he saw the stars in your eyes; how each hit of jet he took would bring him nowhere close to the nirvana he experienced with you. One day, but not now.

#fallout 4 #fallout #fallout 4 john hancock #John Hancock #Hancock x reader #fallout 4 Hancock #fanfic #slightly sad I guess but hi!!! here’s a little ditty to prove I’ve not abandoned you all #life just be stressful right now #whatanightmaregrinch

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writer-freak · 1 year

Text

Calling the killers Babygirl and/or submissive and breedable

Summary: just some headcanons of you calling some of the killer's Babygirl and/or submissive and breedable and their reaction (you and the killer aren't dating yet in this scenario)

Characters: All of the legion, Spirit, Ghostface, Trickster, Shape, Huntress

warnings: Gn reader,mentions of the reader getting killed and injured, bad writing and possible grammar mistakes

A/n: This idea was created at 2 am with my friends in a call so don't take this too seriously. I'm still trying to finish up some of my other drafts but I'm very slow with writing at the moment

Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated💙

The Legion Frank (Babygirl and submissive and breedable) He would be flustered at the start because survivors barely talk with the killers in a trial and they especially don't say stuff like that but it would quickly turn into him being pissed at you for making fun of him He's gonna tunnel you wasting all his time trying to catch you if you continue to call him babygirl you will have to accept the consequences

Joey (Babygirl and submissive and breedable) I think he can enjoy a little banter and he is way more level-headed than Frank so he isn't gonna exactly tunnel you but if you and another survivor are together he will first go after you It just doesn't bother him that much because he thinks that you are trying to provoke him

Julie (Babygirl and submissive and breedable) Next to Frank, she seems pretty calm but she is also a hothead and she will be going after you with even more power than usual and your whole team ends up having to suffer because of your little joke. Every time Julie used frenzy her attack was deeper than usual and you were her main target

Susie (Babygirl) A killer who will actually be a little flustered by what you are saying She would question if you are trying to flirt with her but then will also think that you are maybe trying to make fun of her It stuns her for a second but then she is right back on track leaving you for later and first dealing with the other survivors

Spirit (Babygirl) Another flustered killer, it is just really unexpected for her to be called baby in any form and at the girl part she basically already checked out You are then also confused because she stopped moving and you thought she was phasing but no she is just completely rooted to her spot unable to process what you said

Ghostface (submissive and breedable) He doesn't know the meme but he knows that you can't mean that seriously The man with a knife going after you, being submissive and breedable could only be a joke or you had a weird definition of these words Either way, you basically asked for death but he would have a good laugh about it before putting you on a hook

Trickster (Babygirl and submissive and breedable) He knows the memes and can take the joke In his idol career, he heard these words directed at him a few times from fans so he just thinks that you are another one of his fans and that means he has to put a special show on for you

Michael (Babygirl and submissive and breedable) No reaction that you could outwardly see and you thought that he didn't hear you or the comment just has no effect on him but you swear every time he was attacking you or putting you on a hook he was even rougher than normal and he would constantly go after you

Huntress (submissive and breedable) Did you just call her submissive, I think she would ignore the breedable part and solely focus on the word submissive and that would mean weakness Definitely is pissed at you and will kill you so quick you can't even look twice

Hopefully your day is great and take care of yourself💙

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theorphicangel · 8 months

Note

HI LOVE <3 GRATS ON THE 500 ksdfksjdf

can i get “maybe this is it, because I can’t do this anymore” because i wanna be in pain :') i'm a sucker for hurt/comfort but if you wanna kill me with all angst no comfort i will happily die in (angsty) peace <3

hiii kat!! thank you so so much for sending in a prompt! Now I was considering going fully angst but I do want to see you live as my mutual so I settled for comfort 🙏🫡

enjoy :)

send in a prompt for my 500 event!

tw: blood, grief, death, gn! reader

Scarlet blood decorated your skin, imprinted like tattoo ink. It will take you days to scrub it out completely. The fade of crimson never truly disappears.

Each time you went on a mission you never really thought that it would be as god-awful as the last, and most of the time – and most fortunately – you were right.

But not this time.

This time, it was the worst of the worst. Unimaginable. As if the pits of hell collectively decided that out of all days, today would be the perfect time to unleash eternal damnation upon the entire corps.

Today, the universe chose to make you a witness to the most gruesome scenes ever known to the human eye and to let you live with it.

That was truly the worst kind of punishment.

The punishment of being the lucky few who survived after seeing the rampages of hell. The so-called lucky ones who have yet to fully comprehend what they have been through and face immediate backlash from hundreds when returning to the walls. It was only then that you understood the idea that survival was possibly the next thing worse than death.

Heads bowed, a deep sea of dark green cloaks was all the eye could see on the return home. Bodies numb and battered, stomachs empty and nauseous, mental state shattered and fragile, this is all that is left of the Survey Corps.

The contact between each other’s eyes was how communication flowed. After a tragedy like this, only a set of weary eyes could portray the answers to the unspoken questions. In silence, the poor numbers of survivors trailed one after the other, the optimism once held in these hearts were now killed by the fate of the world.

Knuckles tight, your hands gripped the reins of your horse. Your limbs shook, unable to cope with the amount of grief and trauma that you had just seen. It was unbearable, having to go through it time and time again, mission after mission, hope after hope that this time would be the last time that you would see your comrades die.

You don’t think you’d ever reach that point. Internally, you had already decided that this would be the last time. You were done.

Silently, you disappeared from the small crowd. And after tying up your horse in the stable, you slipped away not caring to be present for a register. The worn soles of your boots thunder as you walk down the soulless corridor, cold and empty, only now coming to life.

Making a sharp turn, you meet the closed door of your office. Bloodstained hands meet the cold doorknob and you twist with all the strength that you have in your own drained body to get the door open. You only manage to take a few steps forward before collapsing on your office floor. Like the rest of the headquarters, it’s cold and empty, and there’s already a stack of papers on your table ready to be signed.

For the first minute or two, you realize that you have no energy to cry, instead choosing to slump on the ground, your body melting into the floor.

It’s only a matter of time before it all sinks in. The visions and raw images race back into your mind like a film scene rolling before your eyes. Before you know it your eyes are watering and you’re unable to stop the tears from flowing. Neither are you able to suppress the deep cry inside you. Hands shaking, you can’t stop, like you're not even in control of your own body. You can’t stop no matter how hard you try.

Forcing yourself to take in a breath, the tears only pause momentarily before flowing all over again.

You don’t even know how long he’s been there. You never really noticed your office door open or even hear his steps. Wiping away at your blurry eyes was when you found him there, right there in front of you. He was a splitting image of you. Bloodstained and exhausted.

Inaudibly, he’s beside you on the ground, his nimble, cold fingers gently holding the tips of yours. His face is filled with immediate concern on how much you’re currently shaking, and soon he unbuttons his own cape and wraps it around you, the warmth of it already doing wonders.

Coming to a sudden yet much needed halt, your body has run out of tears. Eyes red, skin patchy, head throbbing, your body has nothing left in you. Miserably, you sit, shaking your head slowly as you hiccup. Levi’s hand slowly rubs circles into your back. Pathetically you rub your eyes one more time, skin irritated by the amount of contact.

“I can’t–”

It merely comes out as a whisper, your throat dry and croaky. It takes you a few times to swallow before you can repeat yourself a little louder.

“I can’t do it.”

Levi raises a brow, his concern never once left his face, not even for a minute. “Can’t do what?”

“This.” you mumble, raising your hands. “They say that after the worst you can’t do it anymore, that it’ll break you and maybe— maybe this is it, because I can’t do this anymore.” Your voice wobbles before the end, breaking off as a new set of fresh tears reach your waterline.

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true!” you exclaim, “I’m finished. I can’t keep doing this anymore, Levi. How many people do I have to watch die in front of me before we can reach freedom? It’s like a fucking nightmare I can’t wake up from, and just when I start to get hope, just that tiniest spark of hope inside me, it just fucking dies and I end up with nothing, I end up with nothing, Levi.”

“You don’t have nothing.” He begins, his tone quiet and gentle with you. “You have your squad and—“

“And so what? One day I’ll lose them too and you know it. I can’t keep pretending that I’m strong enough for this, I can’t do it. I’m–” You shut your eyes, tilting your head upwards. The words leave your lips in a whisper. “I’m just so fucking tired of this.”

He gets it. He really and truly does understand where you’re coming from. Even when it feels like nobody understands, he gets it. Because at one point in his life, he had reached that conclusion too.

Levi swallowed thickly letting the silence creep back in after your words. His eyes were casted downwards, searching for an answer, anything to comfort you. It took a few moments before he was ready to say something.

“I know I don’t have the answer, none of us do, and trust me, we’re all tired. Every single one of us. Every single day everyone wakes up and thinks, ‘why am I doing this?’ ‘Why did I choose this path, this endless path of not knowing if I’ll make it to tomorrow?’ But the thing is…we have no choice but to keep going.”

Levi paused for a second. “ I know it doesn’t seem like it but little by little we are making progress. With each and every mission we are coming back with new information and intel in which we didn’t know about before. In fact, I bet you Hange will storm your office tomorrow with something new that they found.”

His words coax out a subtle smile out of you, you could just imagine that happening.

“That is why we do it, so we can get new information, to discover shit that we haven’t even thought about yet. It is a sacrifice but no one who steps foot into the Survey Corps isn’t aware of that.”

Levi took a deep sigh, watching as your tears slow down your cheeks. You felt his exhale of air reach your skin. A reminder he was here, right here with you.

“Keep going, “ He tells you, gently. “For me at least. For us.”

It was possibly the most selfish thing that he had ever asked for in his entire lifetime and the first selfish thing he had asked for but he knew that this was your breaking point.

If he couldn’t get you to promise him this, then there was no hope left for you. Just this once he needed to be selfish and it was all a no brainer for him if it meant saving you in the long run.

His hands cup your face, bloodstained and all. Because of your own blurry eyes you couldn’t catch the way that his eyes welled up.

“Promise me this one thing.” He mumbled. “Promise you’ll keep going for me.”

“Levi–”

“Promise me.” His voice grew loud all of a sudden, echoing off the walls of your quiet office. His tone was stern as if he was giving an order to his squad, the only difference was…you could hear the fear in his voice.

He was only being strict on you because he was so afraid of losing you. That was his own breaking point. And if it ever came to that then that would be it. He wouldn’t be able to do it anymore. He wouldn’t know how to. He’d rather be sacrificed to the titans than ever imagine himself in a scenario like that.

You meet his eyes, fear evident in them. For him you’ll do it. Whatever it takes.

“I promise.”

“Good.” his fingers steadily wiped away the trail of teardrops. “I won’t ever let you down. You remember that, okay?”

You nod, trusting him full heartedly without a second thought.

Again he was being selfish, guiding you down a path that could potentially lead to disaster, but it needed to be done, for the sake of saving you. Could it be something he will potentially regret in the near future?

He doesn’t know. No one does.

But for now, he’s willing to do whatever it takes to keep you by his side.

Reblogs are much appreciated!!

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#Angel writes #angel’s 500 event #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #attack on titan #levi x you #aot x reader #levi x reader fluff #levi ackerman angst #levi aot #attack on titan levi #attack on titan x reader

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frickingnerd · 2 months

Text

reuniting with rantaro during the 53th killing game

pairing: rantaro amami x gn!reader

tags: spoilers for V3, angst, major character death

rantaro and you were both contestants during the 52nd killing game and the sole survivors of it

during you time there, you became very close, having gone through so much together and always being there to support each other

both of you assumed that after surviving that killing game, you'd be able to return to your normal lives. but then the danganronpa team roped you in for one more season together…

when you finally saw each other again in the new school this season was set, it was hard having to act like you didn't know each other

you had to pretend like everything was new and scary, as if you hadn't been in a killing game before

though when the two of you finally got a chance to sneak away from the group and have a moment for yourself, you couldn't help but let your guard down around each other, even if it was just for a moment

both of you had survived a killing game before and you planned to survive this one as well, as a team!

you promised to look out for each other and solve the mystery of this killing game together, so that you could flee together

but neither of you would've expected rantaro to be the first to bite the dust, leaving you all by yourself in yet another killing game. one you might not survive either…

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harveywritings92 · 5 months

Text

[Hancock is annoyed that Sole's been spending too time with Nick.]

Piper: Hancock, you shouldn't be jealous of Nick. Remember, it's all about helping Blue.

Hancock: I'm not jealous! I'm envious! Jealousy is when you worry someone will take what you have. Envy is wanting what someone else has. What I feel is envy.

Piper & Maccready:...

[They check a dictionary Hancock uses to level his desk legs.]

Maccready: Wow, he's right.

#s: the simpsons #fallout 4 #fallout 4 incorrect quotes #fallout incorrect quotes #sole survivor #gn reader #gn sole survivor #hancock fo4 #hancock x sole survivor #fo4 piper #fo4 maccready #nick valentine #fo4 companions

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commonwealthoccurences · 2 years

Text

Life Worth Living

Request: "I don’t know if your still taking requests or if your willing to write a part 2 for this since you wrote it so long ago but could you make a part 2 to “X6-88 As A Brother Figure” where sole works with the Railroad and comes back for him."

TW: Mentions of starving and its respective appearance and trauma related effects. Very brief, nondescribed mention of throwing up. Canon typical violence, particularly threats of gun violence. Descriptions of dissociating.

Note: I bullshitted a lot of Institute lore in this for the sake of the story ngl. I hope it’s not too disorienting lol Thanks to @ryleeamberrr for editing and beta reading!

Est word count: ~12,000

Walking away from the Institute, Sole thought, was the hardest thing they had ever done.

The confusion and distress still smarted as much as it did when X6-88 told them they had to leave, that it was time for them to sneak away, but he couldn’t see them again, not in the next few years at the very least. They had just crossed fifteen, and though growing up in the Institute had made them more mature than any Pre-War fifteen year old could claim to be, they felt more like a five year old being betrayed by their older brother.

All but clinging to his clothes, stiff and unwrinkled as they always were when he was within the Institute, Sole protested. Every manner they had learned, any restraint they held proudly due to X6’s almost-parenting went out the window as they argued and nearly cried. And though it was never a question whether or not X6 loved them dearly, he detached them from his clothing, powered up the teleporter, handed them their most important belongings and some rations within a backpack, and sent them on their way without much emotion.

That day marked the worst moment in Sole’s life, and the first and only time X6 cried thus far.

Sole wasn’t particularly proud of their resilience in the Wasteland. They found no pride in white-knuckled survival. The fact that they could pull a bullet out of their arm and patch themself up to keep moving wasn’t some sort of winning story in a tale-telling competition, it was born out of the spite they mustered up to live. Very quickly, they figured out that spite was the one thing they could cling to to keep the Wasteland from drowning them in their own suffering.

The first few years they spent on their own, sleeping amongst the piles of rubble curled into a ball, covered only by a thin blanket riddled with holes and coated in dried, gray mud that blended them into their surroundings. It was cold and lonely, and they often found themself fighting off or huddled with the scavenger dogs. Reflectively, it seemed fitting to them. And how pathetic must they be, for even the most desperate of the Wasteland’s creatures to take pity on them.

At the tail end of those first years, they were found by Mayor John Hancock of Goodneighbor. They’d never stepped foot into Goodneighbor; Diamond City tales of its brutal and harsh nature were enough to keep them giving it a wide berth. It seemed he was great at finding all the trouble left in the Wasteland, and as he would often remind them after they met, they were the most troublesome thing he could’ve found out there.

The walk they took back to Goodneighbor was slow going. There wasn’t much of Sole left at that point, though the scavenger dogs had taken a liking enough to them to bring back bits of what they found to eat. Winter was cruel, and even in the distant future, when the answer to how and where they would survive was reliable, they still trembled at the sight of snow.

Starving bodies weren’t unusual in the Commonwealth, least of all amongst those between settlements, drifting in and out of Goodneighbor, jerked around by the lead of their chem addictions. Still, it was hard for Hancock to look at Sole for the first few weeks. They were bordering emaciated and something about how utterly hollow their eyes looked broke his heart.

Fahrenheit quietly warned him not to collect too many strays when she saw Sole curled up in his bed, piled under blankets and fast asleep. Hancock, resting on the couch across the room looked more haunted than usual. He didn’t move to acknowledge her. And despite her warning, Fahrenheit felt a pang of distress when she saw the cruel lines that emphasized Sole’s bone structure.

Sole didn’t often speak of where they had come from, but it became relatively obvious to Hancock as time crawled forward. They spoke of the Commonwealth in an abstract, scientific sense, and fought hard to bite their tongue to not make some choice negative comments that had obviously been ingrained in them. Hancock didn’t hold a grudge. Being raised in the Institute was the worst fate of all, in his mind.

The subject of family was a notoriously sore spot for them, though. There was a hurricane of emotions that rose in Sole when the topic came up. On one hand, they never wanted to bring it up. On the other hand, X6 was everything to them, all the family they had, and yet they couldn’t shake the bitter taste in their mouth when they thought of what he did to them. Sure, it was probably for the best. But there was resentment all the same.

There had been no choice for them. Maybe it was intentional. The fact that they would’ve chosen to stay with X6 a thousand times over was probably written on their face every time they were separated, in the way they turned into his shadow for a few days after he returned from one of his Courser assignments.

The thought spiraled into more resentment in turn. He knew he was their only family, that they had never been on their own for even a moment in all the years they lived in the Institute, surrounded by bustling scientists and synths alike, and yet he sent them away into a Wasteland he himself expressed disgust for.

Betrayal was a wound that stung fresh every time, and never seemed to heal.

And yet, Sole knew. If they were given the choice at any moment in their journey through the Commonwealth to return to him, wherever he was, they’d agree without hesitation. They could find contentment in starving together, even.

So Hancock didn’t ask except for that once, in the first week since they had arrived at Goodneighbor, his eyes averted from the way they clutched to the bowl of soup he’d given them as if he might take it back at any moment. Even then, the way they shuddered with the weight of whatever tale they were holding back was unmistakable.

Slowly but surely, they filled out and began to heal physically. The muscle and weight they used to back up all the training both the Institute and X6 put them through returned, and they were able to stand on their own two feet. Daisy would throw them a few caps for whatever meat they hunted down, and a few more for what electronic parts they could scavenge from the broken buildings. KL-E-0 helped them keep up to date on their fighting skills.

Sometimes, when they sat on the benches just below the balcony where Hancock made his speeches and the wind whipped past them, it felt like living.

A few more years ticked by at a snail's pace and they started to spend their evenings in the Third Rail, listening to Magnolia’s crooning voice and questioning just how much damage all the smoke in the bar was doing to their lungs. It had been a long six years since they had left the Institute, and the answer was that they simply didn’t care. Their lungs were probably ruined already, anyway.

Life was unremarkable for the most part, and Sole preferred it that way.

It was still hard. In the traditional sense, of fighting tooth and nail to keep the Wasteland from getting its claws back in them, but also in the sense that Sole always felt there was something missing. Six years and they still felt as if X6 was supposed to be returning to their side at any moment.

Sole recalled, with a melancholic bittersweetness, one of the times they had almost died. They had woken up heavy and nauseous with the familiar sickly sweetness in their mouth that came with being dosed with Radaway and nearly hurled overside the cot they were resting on. Rough hands brought them back to rest on the cot and they could feel a cold sweat coating their own skin. Distantly, they felt themself shivering. Hancock leaned a bit to hold them.

Selfishly, they had turned to Hancock to fill the void X6’s absence had left. Part of them felt as if he knew, in the saddened looks he sometimes gave them when he thought they weren’t looking, but it was hard not to cling to the man that pulled them out of the literal gutter amidst an apocalypse and helped them feel like a person again— and so, despite the fact that they were almost notorious for the fact that they hated being touched, Sole leaned into him and clutched at the sleeves of his coat.

Silence drove the time forward, and they eventually stopped wavering in and out of consciousness. When their voice croaked as they asked for water, Hancock jumped up and retrieved it for them without a second thought. They drank greedily and though it still had that same tinny, stale taste it always did, it was the essence of relief in that moment— and then Hancock had to shatter the silence. “Who’s X6?”

They stilled. They couldn’t help but dart their eyes over to him in a panic, almost as if they were flinching at the mention of his name. Somewhere in their subconscious, they were begging to hear it again. It had been so long since they had heard his name. They cleared their throat, “Who?”

Hancock gave them one of his sad smiles they’d grown to resent. “C’mon now. Please don’t try that on me, kiddo,” He sighed, “You were crying out for him when the radiation sickness got real bad. We can drop it if you want.”

It had always been one of Hancock’s little sayings, “Talking about it will help.” The things they went through, their frustrations and defeats. He had always been there to listen. Would talking about it really help?

And so they talked, in spite of themself.

Sole started with the way he had been so cold they had met. An immovable iceberg of the greatest degree in their mind, he was strong and resilient. A weapon. A threat, but never to them. He had seen something in them, maybe something of himself that he held deep down. Something vulnerable.

They talked about the way he protected them in the most logical of senses, but still let them crawl into his bed when they had nightmares, even if the only way he knew how to help was to explain why their nightmare didn’t make sense. The way he stood between them and the Institute and kept them from getting harshly punished for their antics, and the way they stood between him and the Institute and vowed to take care of his so-called “malfunctions” so scientists wouldn’t have to.

The words came spilling out, slowly at first, then flooding out with the emotions they had been suppressing for six years. It was jumbled and imperfect, but so was Sole, and they didn’t have it in them to hold back anymore. The reality was that X6 was family, and that was a part of them they couldn’t pretend didn’t exist anymore.

After they had said everything that needed to be said, and even the things that didn’t need to be said, they felt winded. Like they had run a marathon. “Can I get some more water?” They asked quietly.

Hancock was staring at them. His sadness had turned to thinly veiled anger and they resisted the urge to flinch in the face of it. He had never been angry at them before. Irritated, sure. They irritated each other quite regularly, bickered for fun— it was never serious— but he had never gotten angry.

He stared down at his lap for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Sorry, kiddo. I just seem to find a new reason to hate the Institute every time I think I’ve run out of ‘em. I’ll getcha that water.”

Sole was slower to drink this time, considering they nearly choked last time and the desperation wasn’t so close to the surface anymore. When they had finished he rested his elbows on the cot and looked at them seriously. “You said he gave you a light? The one where you light yours and it lights his, too?” He asked.

Sole nodded slowly, not wanting to irritate their forming headache. Radaway was nearly a miracle worker, but not quite; the side effects weren’t a walk in the park. “You still have it? Think it still works?”

“In my backpack. I, um, don’t really check to see if it works, though.”

Hancock’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Sorry kid, I don’t understand. You just said how much he meant to you… seems like that’d be a priority.”

They gave a wry smile. “You asked me once what my biggest fear was.”

“Yeah. Distracting you while Daisy pulled that bullet out of your arm. That was a few months ago, why–”

“Mhm. Hancock– what if I turn the light on and he doesn’t respond?”

Hancock blew out a breath and shook his head. “Kiddo, you’re not giving him enough credit.”

“What?”

“That Courser bent the rules of his nature for you, defied the one thing he’d known like the back of his hand before the Institute even thought to let you be born. And he defied the nature you helped give him by letting you go to give you a chance.”

This brought some of that well-known bitterness to the surface in Sole. “A chance. What kind of chance is the Commonwealth?” They practically spat the words out like they were rotted.

“Institute life isn’t living. You know that, Sole.”

No. It wasn’t. But living with the loss of X6 was barely better. Hancock grasped their hand. “Sole, I might have people who can get him out, but we need to test the light. If he doesn’t respond…”

The hitch in their breath was the culmination of the thousands of times they wondered what if. What if he was dead? What if they were too late? What if.

They nodded. “Go get it.”

It felt oddly ceremonial, to be laying on that cot after having barely dodged death in the form of radiation, the essence of the Commonwealth, as Hancock brought them the light. It was a simple light, unremarkable in design, but it shone bright when it was on, enough to illuminate an entire room and then some. They held it stiffly in their hands. The shape had grown unfamiliar in the years that they had left it wrapped up in their backpack, padded with cloth by X6’s own hands when he had prepared their pack for them and sent them on their way. A bolt of panic shocked its way down their spine. “You gotta turn it on at some point, Sunshine.”

Sole’s hands trembled as they dug their fingers into the metal base and reached up with their other hand. A simple tap and the room was lit with a warm, orange glow. It had been meant to mimic sunlight, something Sole had only seen once in their life before they had left the Institute. They shuddered, and tears spilled over to dampen their cheeks.

X6’s version of the light was much more subtle. It was a simple band he wore around his wrist that glowed softly and buzzed when Sole turned their lamp on, and its activation came in the form of a small button on the side of the band. Easily disguised as an odd piece of his armor, it reflected X6 perfectly.

The lamp remained on, light steady and unwavering for several minutes, and with each one that ticked by, Sole felt their heart sinking lower and lower. Maybe they had been too late. Or maybe he hadn’t forgiven them for not contacting him all these years. They only noticed they’d been chewing on their lip when the sting of the salt in their tears met the wound of the torn skin.

Dread came cold, like the snow of that winter when Hancock had found them curled up and discarded. They felt the iciness in their fingertips, where they held the lamp, and it spread through their veins till it reached their feet. It felt wrong, how warm the lamp looked, when they felt so cold. “I’m sorry, Sunshine. I thought–”

The light went out. The pair were left in the patchy daylight that streamed through the dirty windows of the Old State House windows. Then, like the sun showing its face between clouds, the lamp came back on again.

Sole let out a cry that was so unlike themself it startled both them and Hancock, but when they placed the lamp down with care and flung their arms around him, defeated tears turned astonished and hopeful, he caught them with a familiar, rough laugh. Sole was squeezing him tight enough to hurt, but he didn’t care. Hope was a look he hadn’t seen on them enough over the years.

Meeting with the Railroad couldn’t wait, Sole insisted, and when they put their mind to something, nothing could get in their way. Hancock had learned that a long time ago, and had stopped trying. It was hard to get into contact with Deacon; Hancock hadn’t really even tried before. It was like trying to catch flowing water with your bare hands, and when Hancock called him a slippery motherfucker, it was with a tone of admiration and respect. Sometimes it paid to be nobody in the Commonwealth.

Hancock did his best and put out the word that he was looking for contact with the Railroad, knowing that with the way Deacon heard everything that happened in the Wasteland he’d be on their doorstep before long. He told Sole to focus on recovering, that their plan was in motion and they’d be able to stress over what to do to their heart's content soon, but they were restless.

Often, he would come back to the Old State House to find them pacing rather unsteadily, still lightheaded and wavering from the side effects of how much Radaway had been pumped through their system. It had been a few days, but the chem was a nasty thing when it wanted to be. They couldn’t rest until Deacon showed up.

And show he did. He was subtle, and that much was familiar about him, but there was something off-putting about him to Sole. The fact that he could blend in and disappear so easily, change faces like they were masks and accents like they were accessories; he was dangerous. Sole wondered if this is the way the Commonwealth felt when they saw Coursers. Slippery, deadly predators, both Deacon and the Coursers were. They resisted the urge to shudder, even when he gave them a warm smile.

It was easier to let down their guard a little when Hancock greeted him with a clap on his shoulder and a wide grin, asking where Deacon had been for so long, leaving poor ol’ Hancock to deal with their halfway house all on his lonesome. Sole wasn’t sure what they started discussing, but that was alright by them. Hancock and they never discussed his work with the Railroad after they found out it was to do with synths— touchy subject and all.

Impatience was an itch on their skin, biting and angry and familiar. They clenched their jaw and kept quiet, though. They were roughened and bittered by their experiences in the Commonwealth, sure, but their Institute mannerisms were instinct, not completely lost in the years they’d been gone. It’d be counterproductive to make a bad impression on the person that seemed to be X6’s ticket out of the Institute.

Luckily, Hancock knew them well. “We can catch up another time, Deacon. We need your help.”

Sole, in their reckless affection for X6, was ready to break down the doors of the Institute and steal him away that day. Unfortunately for them, Deacon being Deacon meant that he was slow and steady in what he did, especially when it had anything to do with the Railroad, which meant they would not be rushing into the Institute without proper planning.

He listened to their story with a solemn, focused expression that left them a little unnerved in the way his eyes never left theirs. He never interrupted as they spoke and simply took notes that seemed to be coded, because of course they were. When they finished he allowed a moment of silence. “I’ll talk to the boss. I can’t guarantee anything, but… we’ve been looking for an in.”

“An in?” Sole asked.

“To the Institute. To bring it down for good.”

They couldn’t help the discomfort that showed on their face, or the way they pressed their fingertips into their palms to channel their anxiousness somewhere. Deacon, with his eyes like an Institute crow’s, noticed. “I need to know for certain that you’re done with them.”

“I am. It’s… instinct. I’ll get over it.”

They weren’t fond of the way he looked them over, similar to the way Institute scientists had looked at them like an insect under the microscope. They bit their tongue and raised an eyebrow, a challenge for him to speak. “We’ll see,” He said, with finality in his tone.

Sole nodded. Despite their qualms with the man, it seemed they had passed his test. He rose and seemed to shed the air of formality he held with them, easing back into the joking nature he had with Hancock. They decided to take their leave, not wanting to disturb the mood of the room with their presence.

When they entered their room their lamp, which they’d given a new home on their desk, was on. They flicked it off, then back on again. They felt warm for the first time in years.

Deacon left that night. He’d turned down the drink Hancock had offered him with the easy, inviting mannerisms of someone that’d turned socializing into a science, then mastered it. Sole understood why he was so likable to everyone, but that didn’t mean they trusted it.

The wait for him to get to the Railroad, talk to the “Des’” he spoke so highly of, and return to Goodneighbor to form a plan with Sole was excruciating. They filled their days with busywork just to keep sane. They repacked their backpack, rations and clothing tucked away just in case, though their lamp remained on their desk in the Old State House; it would go in last. They needed the reassurance that X6 was still alive every time they turned the lamp on.

When Deacon did eventually return it was nearly a week later and Sole had started losing hope that he was who Hancock said he was. It seemed the entirety of Goodneighbor was swept up in his presence, with the way people seemed drawn to his effortless charisma and the fact that everything seemed to roll off his back. Sole would follow suit and stop raising their hackles when X6 was safe, they decided.

The plan was relatively simple.

Sole was to spend about a month with the Railroad, proving they were worthy of trust. Desdemona, the leader of the Railroad apparently, and Deacon would try to poke holes in their story, see if they ever slipped up during conversation. All the while Sole would be doing small jobs for them under Deacon’s watchful eyes. Then, they would start in on getting X6 out and burning the Institute to the ground.

The idea was that Sole would be their ticket in. If they signaled to the Institute that they wanted to return, potentially with a captive from the Railroad, and pretended they were still loyal, there was no reason for the Institute to reject them. Once they were in, they’d find a chance to break free, insert a software virus courtesy of Tinker Tom that would keep the teleporters open permanently to give way to Railroad agents, and then they would be given permission to go find X6. It was their responsibility to get him out before the place blew.

That month was one of, if not the, longest of their life.

Sole had never been so disciplined, even in their childhood with the Institute. They listened to every word Des and Deacon said unhesitatingly and did their job with precision and efficiency that would’ve impressed even X6. This was one of the most important moments of their life, and they weren’t going to mess it up for anything.

They missed Hancock terribly, but they would live. They were practically a professional at missing family.

The month went by with Sole counting every moment, down to the second, that they had left before they and the Railroad would go through with the plan. Or, they supposed, the Railroad would go through with the plan. There was no separating them now, with all the work they had done for them; they were part of the Railroad. When they had crossed that line they didn’t know, but they supposed it was somewhere between Deacon giving them a compliment on their skills and Glory demanding they go rest before they passed out standing up on watch. Her tone had been harsh, but her hands had been soft as she’d pushed them away, towards their cot.

Sole grew fond of the little organization and their cause. It seemed perfectly fitting, for them to end up there, and they regretted not talking to Hancock about the work he did with them sooner. If only they hadn’t been so stubborn to keep the pain of X6 locked up, maybe he’d be out already. Maybe they’d be living. Both of them.

It was good to feel like they had a purpose again, but they couldn’t help but mull over the potential outcome of their mission. The fact that it was entirely possible the whole of the Railroad would be wiped out, and it would be Sole’s fault for dragging them there with their mission to bring back their brother. Sure, they had been looking for an in, but Sole was giving it to them.

And the possibility that X6 wasn’t going to go with them. It was one thing for him to respond to the lamp, like he always did. It was another to leave everything he’d ever known to travel a deadly landscape with a kid he hadn’t seen in six years. Hancock’s “Kiddo, you’re not giving him enough credit.” echoed in their head. He was right when he’d first said it and he was right at that moment, too. They weren’t giving X6 enough credit. They had to trust that he’d make the right choice, for the both of them.

They weren’t sure what they’d do if he didn’t, anyway. Die there, among the clean, white walls as they got blown to pieces? Had they starved and struggled for all those years just to return and die in their old home? Sole shook off the thought as Deacon approached.

They found his eyes weren’t so cold and intimidating anymore. “Hey. So, we’ve got the beacon set up so you can contact the Institute. We’ll be ready in about half an hour. Just wanted to see how you were doing.” He plopped himself onto the seat next to them, his eyebrows furrowed with concern as he looked them up and down.

“Alright. Just…” They sighed, and couldn’t find the words to continue.

“Yeah. I get you.”

They sat in the quiet for a few moments, listening to other Railroad members murmur amongst themselves about what was about to occur. Recruiting new faces had gone successfully over the month since Sole had joined, especially with Deacon and Hancock’s combined ease and charisma to ease the process. It turned out once you could offer a solid, but vague, plan to bring down the Commonwealth’s boogeyman, some people were just unhinged enough to join. “Where do you think you’re going after this?” Deacon asked.

“It’s– things are gonna be hard for him, y’know? It was hard for me and he– I dunno. Somewhere quiet, hopefully. Maybe check out that neighborhood up North. Clear it out and get a settlement going. Help him settle into this life, figure things out.”

“That’s a good idea. I’m sure some of the folks here could use a good place to retire, wouldn’t mind helping get things started.” He gave them a lopsided smile, but they weren’t paying much attention anymore.

“...I don’t think I care where we end up. As long as he’s back.”

Their voice was small, the kind of vulnerability only an older loved one could invoke. Deacon placed a hand on their knee. “We’ll get him back, kid. Try not to worry too much.”

They looked at him, the lines around his mouth, the wrinkles that lined his forehead, the way he flexed his fingers to keep them from getting stiff since his joints had gotten worse as winter began setting in. They nodded. Something in the way he spoke with such confidence had them nodding in agreement before they registered it. If he said it like that, it just had to be true. Right?

Sole fought to not get lost in thought after that. Doing so would only make their confidence waver, and they had to cling to what Deacon had said to keep their head above the water. Going into the Institute afraid and quivering would only doom the plan from the start. They had to keep their wits about them, stay cool and collected. They had to get him back, no matter the cost.

It wasn’t long after when Desdemona called them forth to radio in to the Institute signal. They cleared their throat as Tinker Tom adjusted a few knobs, fiddling with things they couldn’t begin to understand the purpose of. He’d tried to explain at some point, but they’d been lost after the first sentence. They never had gotten the knack X6 had wanted them to get for coding and electronics. It seemed such a pity now.

The receiver was lighter in their hand than they expected it to be, and it just added to the feeling Sole had that this was all off. Their hand was shaking, they realized in a manner so disconnected to themself. Like they were watching someone else have to carry the weight. Deacon stepped up beside them and placed a hand over theirs, steadying it. When they met his eyes, he nodded. They could do this.

There was a switch somewhere in them still, they knew. It held everything the Institute had instilled in them when they were younger. All the demands and expectations, the rules and punishments. Mannerisms and restraint all came rushing back as they took a deep breath and set their expression to a steel mask; they weren’t Sole, the survivor, a nickname Hancock had given them that had quickly spread through Goodneighbor. They were Sole. Institute pawn extraordinaire.

Sole eased into a stiffer posture and raised their chin. The receiver crackled violently as it tried to connect to whatever scarce signal they could get ahold of; the Railroad had taken the necessities to the outskirts of the Commonwealth, so the Institute couldn’t track the signal back to one of their bases. The crackle shifted in tone, then cut off. “Speak.”

The wind was knocked out of them and their idle hand reached up to grasp the receiver in a last ditch attempt to get their hand to stop shaking again. They were gasping for breath, praying it couldn’t be heard on the other end of the line, and stared at the ceiling above them as they made a desperate grab to keep hold of the mask they had just assembled. To keep themself together. “Courser X6-88 receiving, speak.” There was a slight impatience in his monotone voice; just a sliver, barely there.

They gritted their teeth. “Organics 111 requesting transport back to Gateway. In possession of a Railroad asset.”

Silence. Their eyes ached from how hard they were squeezing them shut, trying to picture X6’s face on the other end of the line and willing themself not to cry. They braced their hand on the table in front of them and could feel the wood start to give way to their nails as they dug them in. Splinters be damned. “Repeat.”

There was something else in his voice, something they hadn’t really heard from him before. It wavered. Of course, not enough for it to be noticeable, even to the scientists that were undoubtedly listening in, but enough for Sole to notice. Enough for it to break their heart a little more. “Organics 111 requesting transport to Gateway. In possession of a Railroad asset.”

A pause. “Request received. Allow thirty minutes for response.” And then the channel clicked dead.

Sole felt their legs nearly give way underneath them. Deacon was there to catch them, thank God, and haul them into a chair beside the table as they covered their face with their arms. “Clear the room, please.” He meant business with his tone, so different from the usual lightness in his voice.

They heard the shuffling of bodies, curiosity stalling the Railroad member’s movements, but eventually it stopped. They were alone. Still, they refused to lift their head. Stubbornness would be the death of them one day, even if at that moment they were just hiding the fact that they were crying. Not very well, considering their shoulders shook. “Sole, I’m going to step out. Hancock’s here. I’ll leave you two to talk. We’ll be back at ten minutes till the call.”

More shuffling, and quiet, deep murmurs from Deacon as he left the room, undoubtedly explaining what had happened to Hancock. When the door closed behind him, Sole lifted their head.

They looked absolutely wrecked. Their face was red and blotchy, their eyes already swollen from the tears they couldn’t hold back. It was the vulnerability of a child in their eyes, something that had Hancock swallowing in shock. “Oh, Sunshine.”

Two words and they couldn’t hold back their sobs anymore, their entire body shaking with what felt like the weight of the world. Hancock knelt in front of them and wrapped them in a bone-crushing hug, an earnest attempt to carry some of the burden. If they were half a mind steadier, they might’ve been conscious of the whimper that left their throat, but they couldn’t care. “John, he’s– I heard him.”

“I know, Sunshine. S’alright. You’re gonna be just fine.”

They let themself indulge in a few more moments of something so rare to them; being held, and allowing themself to be visibly hurt. When they pulled away and quickly swiped their hand over their face, Hancock prepared himself to be the bad guy. “You know normally I’d be grateful you’re not being such a stubborn ass about your emotions,” this brought a weak, but affectionate scoff from Sole, “but… you have to brace yourself.”

Sole looked at him, eyes shining with the few tears they hadn’t shed. “You have to pretend you’re not phased. When you see him you can’t–”

“I know,” They swiped at their face again, eyes averted from his as they pulled themself back together. “I know. I can do it.”

“I never doubted that for a second, kid.”

The Institute, just as greedy as they were intelligent, were eager to receive such a valuable asset. Sole found themself reigning back anger, acidic in their throat, at their ego. The Institute was cautious, sure, cautious enough to set terms for their transport and demand they and their hostage be checked by Coursers before they were transported back, but not cautious enough to suspect that their brainwashing wasn’t flawless. They didn’t suspect that Sole wasn’t on their side.

It felt familiar to let the anger override their sadness, pushing the tears to the back of their mind as they let their fury towards the Institute take over. As they thought about everything that had happened, they were blinded by realization. It was all the Institute’s fault.

All these years they had been foolish enough to blame X6 for sending them away, when in reality it was the Institute at the root of it all. Sure, they had always hated them after they’d left, especially once they saw the effect they’d had on the Commonwealth and its people, but they’d never thought that X6’s actions were born out of necessity. So they wouldn’t end up in his position.

After that, it was easy. Easy to suit up in the protective clothing Tinker Tom had made them, woven with threads that were armored. Not bulletproof, but definitely better than regular cloth. It was easy to bask in the anger and let it fuel their determination to get this right. Even if they saw X6 before it was time to run, they would not fuck this up. Out of anger. Out of spite.

Hancock saw the shift and so did Deacon when he finally reentered. Hancock moved to hug them before they’d left, but that switch had finally been flipped inside them. They would keep the mask on no matter what, even in front of him, in order to survive. Because that’s what they were good at, deep down. Surviving. And so they simply sidestepped his open arms and nodded, and when he nodded back, they both knew.

They were to rendezvous near the old C.I.T. building and wait for Institute Coursers to teleport down to grab them. Once they were deemed safe for transport, Sole and Deacon would be teleported in and go their separate ways. Deacon with the Coursers, who no doubt couldn’t wait to get him alone to get information from him, and Sole to rig the main teleporter, the Gateway. What could go wrong?

For once, Sole refused to let themself dwell on that. Nothing would go wrong, because they wouldn’t let it. Everything they’d done and been through over the last six years, everything X6 had done and been through over the last six years, was for this. Nothing would go wrong.

The trip out to the C.I.T. ruins was completed in silence. It was Deacon, Sole, and a merc Hancock had hired to protect them on their way and not ask questions named MacCready. Hancock had wanted to go himself, but Sole had talked sense into him in the same realistic, logical way X6 had always done for them and he couldn’t deny they made sense.

What would Goodneighbor do without him? What explanation would they give as to why a ghoul mayor was so involved in Sole’s business if they were supposedly still completely loyal, considering the Institute thought so lowly of the ghouls of the Commonwealth? Sole never brought up their fear of a potential inability for them to protect him. If X6 acted on his nature and they were forced to choose between him and Hancock, what would they do?

There were few answers they didn’t seek out, but that was certainly one of them.

Sole said their goodbyes to the members of the Railroad, albeit stiff and somewhat formal. They didn’t protest. It seemed everyone knew the odds of them returning, all of them. Even if they weren’t warm and charismatic like Deacon was in everyone’s eyes, they were useful, and they would be missed.

The ruins looked daunting, wire supports bent with the weight of the crumbled stone, soil rocky underneath their thick boots. Sole took careful steps; the last thing they needed was to twist their ankle just before something so important. They couldn’t help the mechanical way they scanned the horizon and the buildings, searching for anything that would stick out. They knew that if the Coursers were coming, they wouldn’t see them. There would be no warning.

So they sat. Back stiff, eyes fixed on one spot on the horizon, awaiting whatever was to come. The air bit with the promise of winter and they couldn’t help but shiver, though it wasn’t that cold. Deacon chose to keep moving, to keep watch on their surroundings despite Sole’s ominous declaration of, “Don’t bother. You won’t see them coming.”

MacCready had scouted and chosen a vantage point as soon as they’d arrived, not one for sticking around to talk. He was good at what he did, Sole could admit. It’d taken them several looks over the landscape to figure out where he was. At the top of one of the buildings, laid out and camouflaged with the barrel of his sniper barely visible. God knows how he’d gotten up there, though they figured that was just another layer of protection between him and the Coursers.

Deacon returned to their side and sat. They pulled out the measly pistol they figured they could get away with bringing.

The harsh wooshing of air, a sort of snapping as everything shifted back into place, was all the warning Sole got. They could feel someone standing behind them. Silent. Daunting. They took a deep breath, not bracing themself, but easing their posture slightly, finding some relief from the ache of how stiffly they’d been sitting. They kept their eyes on the horizon and clenched their jaw.

When Sole turned and met eyes with X6, they felt the world start spinning. There was no telling which way was up, no grasp on the rocky ground beneath them. They searched X6’s eyes for anything. Anger, disgust, affection, warmth, anything. They didn’t care what it was, as long as it wasn’t a blank slate.

It wasn’t. They could see every ounce of restraint he was using in his eyes and something about it reassured them. They weren’t the only one struggling with their hold on the standard-issue Institute regulation mask. They held his gaze for a moment and he nodded. A fraction of a movement, hardly noticeable. They nodded back, just as subtle. “Courser X6-88 responding to Organics 111 transport request.”

He shifted his gaze to Deacon, who stood behind them. If the Coursers were well versed in body language, they would notice that Deacon’s stance was more protective than threatened. Not exactly the poster child for a hostage, but good enough to deceive. That prickling feeling they got when they first assessed Deacon as a predator, rather than the potential prey the Institute insisted the Railroad were, came back. This time it felt reassuring. “I have a single pistol in my possession for protection and direction of the hostage. The hostage has nothing on him.”

X6-88 stared at them for a moment longer, then turned every so slightly. Sole watched his eyes flicker to the exact spot where MacCready lay in wait for their signal that something had gone wrong. Their heart jumped into their throat, but it only lasted a moment. He looked away and turned to the other Coursers. “Conduct a thorough examination.”

And then he distanced himself from Sole.

They stood stock still as another Courser, one they didn’t recognize, ran her hands down Sole’s sides. They met eyes with Deacon as he was also patted down and let their eyebrows crease just a fraction. You alright? their expression asked.

Deacon simply blinked. It was the only signal he could give. Sole understood. It wasn’t long before the Coursers finished up their assessment and reported back to X6-88 that they, in fact, were telling the truth. There was no mention of the pair of eyes watching them from the building above them.

Teleporting was a sickly, disorienting feeling. If Sole felt turned upside down before, they imagined this was what it felt like to be in the eye of a hurricane. Their stomach jolted as the air seemingly collapsed around them, X6’s hold on their arm the only reassurance that they hadn’t simply vanished from reality all by themself; it always had been, when they teleported. Part of them, the kid version of themself deep in their subconscious, was grateful he was there even now for this bout in the teleporter. They had never gotten over their fear of it, even with all the times they had used it.

Coming through the Gateway felt poetic. It still smelled the same as it had when they left. Antiseptic and metallic, strong in the way that it stung at Sole’s nose and eyes, but it seemed they were still used to it considering they didn’t flinch. Deacon did. They watched as he screwed up his nose, the same way he had when they’d waded through the sewers on the hunt for the parts they’d needed for the receiver.

They let the stench sting their lungs as they inhaled and squared their shoulders. X6-88 placed a hand on their shoulder– to anyone looking in, it would seem like he was just making sure they weren’t going to try anything. But he squeezed and Sole knew he had their back.

The walk through the Institute halls was shorter than they wanted it to be. If they kept walking, they wouldn’t have to move to the next phase of the plan. Of course, the world wasn’t so merciful, and they found themself at the lab in the blink of an eye. “We’ll take it from here with him,” one of the scientists spoke up. Also new. Sole was grateful not to run into any more familiar faces. “X6-88, please escort Organics– 111, was it? Please escort them to Father’s office.”

Father. God. Even growing up in the Institute, they’d only seen Father once. Whatever the reason, he’d grown curious of how they were aging and called them up to his office so he could ask whatever questions came to mind. They’d still been young, and hadn’t really understood that they were one of the first children born from the Institute’s creation program, so they’d only thought of the interview as boring.

They hadn’t been taught the lesson that they were meant to fear and respect Father, yet. The Institute was still working on that one.

Sole knew better now, knew that he was an old man bravened by the fact that he was defying nature and the ego-stroking the Institute did for him, but still. If the Institute was the Commonwealth’s boogeyman, Father was Sole’s. They swallowed harshly and hoped it went unnoticed as they followed X6’s guiding hand.

Once they were on one of the many intertwining pathways that led throughout the Institute and out of sight from the lab, X6 veered suddenly. He pressed them forward to what had been an old meeting room when Sole left, but now appeared to be out of use if the dust on the handle was anything to go by. The room was dark when they stepped in and X6 made no move to change it as he shut the door behind them.

They were wrapped up in his arms before they could even blink and they were grateful they’d spent their time before leaving for the C.I.T. ruins crying; they were out of tears. Still, they knew their nails were digging into X6’s armor as they clutched at him, clinging for dear life as he practically crushed them.

His breath was coming in short gasps, something they’d never heard from him before, even on the rare occasions he’d been injured. Sole held on even tighter and hid their face in the collar of his jacket. Never had they been more grateful to feel cool, faux leather against their cheek. X6 rested his chin on the top of their head in return, and they could feel his jaw digging into their scalp, but they didn’t care.

They were home. He was alive.

“I thought you died, Little Light.” His voice cracked.

X6’s voice never cracked. A choked laugh, watered down by the tears they were holding back, escaped them at the nickname. They never thought they’d hear it again. “I’m sorry. I– a lot happened, and I swear I’ll explain it all, but we have to– I have to–” they shook their head, trying to gather their thoughts.

He released them from his hold and the cold returned, though not as harsh as before. Sole squeezed their eyes shut for a moment and gathered themself. When they opened them, X6 had returned to how he’d always been, though there was a stray tear track on his cheek. The one thing out of place on a perfect Institute weapon. Sole dabbed it away with the sleeve of their shirt and gave him a weak smile. “Lead the way, Little Light.”

Sole was astonished at how easy it was. There was a new determination in their step, a leveled confidence in their eyes as they stepped through the halls to the Gateway. X6 mentioned no resistance to what he had to know was their plan. How he knew, they weren’t sure, but he always seemed to be one step ahead of them. They didn’t know why they were surprised. It seemed that hatred for the Institute had been building in him over the years just as it had in them.

X6-88 stood watch in the doorway as Sole inserted the chip Tinker Tom had given them into the control panel of the Gateway. They stepped back to observe as it crackled to life, undoubtedly sending a signal to every person of importance in the Institute, including Father, that an unauthorized transport was taking place. They were sure that a second signal would go out once they checked and realized the Gateway was, in fact, not closing.

They clasped their hands behind their back and observed as members of the Railroad and Goodneighbor residents alike stepped through the teleporter into the pristine room. They looked out of place, wonderfully so, and Sole grinned. They were looking at the inevitable downfall of the Institute, and they’d never been more pleased.

There wasn’t much need to talk amongst themselves after everyone started flooding in. The plans had been discussed a thousand times already, and there was no time for anyone to second guess themselves. It was time to plant the explosives.

X6-88 followed dutifully behind them as they separated from everyone else, headed to the lower levels to plant the riskiest explosives. Sure, if they were spotted they’d definitely still be suspected for the sudden invasion of such an untouchable location, but they had a better foothold than anyone else would. X6 could pretend like he had captured them, too, though they weren’t sure that he’d be able to slip back into that role now that he’d seen the promise of freedom.

Sole supposed they should’ve hesitated as they planted the bombs amongst the interworkings of the Institute. Down in the tunnels, with only the pipes and wires that provided so many essentials to the underground monolith, Sole had everything they needed: X6 and the tools to get vengeance. They’d never been happier.

Once the explosives were set up according to the meticulous— though verbally scattered— instructions Tinker Tom had given them, they made their way out of the tunnels again. X6 had taken to gripping their wrist instead of their shoulder; the fear of letting them out of his sight and losing them again was one he might never escape from.

The twists and turns were easy to get through, though running face first into someone as they came around a bend made their stomach drop. “Oof.” Thank God it was a familiar voice.

Deacon stood just around the bend, his hands on their biceps as he turned them upright for the second time that day. He looked like a ghost, so distinctly out of place down in the tunnels Sole used to hide in to get away from the pressures of the Institute. “It’s time to go, kid. Now.” Sole nodded.

Their hand flailed a bit as they shook off X6’s grip on them and instead grasped his hand, pulling him along the twists and turns just behind Deacon. It was a moment of much-needed relief to stand upright at the end of the tunnels and to take a breath, though it still stung when they did. “Lead the way, Boss,” Sole announced.

The center of the Institute was utter chaos. Sometime when they had been down below, the alarm had been sounded. Code red. Utterly catastrophic. Something they were sure the Institute members assumed they’d only ever hear during drills. Sole had thought the same thing, too, when they were younger.

There was a near equal sea of scrapped together Wasteland garments and too-clean Institute garb mixing in the center of the underground monolith. Sole had been informed that as soon as they were in they were going to put out the word that the Railroad needed as many armed Wastelanders to take down their boogeyman as they could get, but they didn’t think there would be so many. It was incredible what could happen when the Commonwealth had a common enemy, which was something the Institute failed to account for.

A fatal mistake.

They stood for just a moment, the trio, and watched and listened to the chaos below. Gunshots and lasers alike deafening, scientists who foolishly turned down the offer for combat training dodging away from the swarming threat. After that pause to catch their breath, they started moving again.

X6 led the way this time, all ideas of pretending to be under the Institute’s influence dead and gone. They had missed everything about his sharp, precise movements and the way he moved as if he knew anyone would be terrified to go up against him. It was a well-earned confidence, and they couldn’t deny it, not that they would ever think to.

It was turning past a doorway that proved to be their downfall. Distracted by making sure Deacon was still behind them, they didn’t see the scientist who was brave enough to yank them into the doorway until there was a gun pressed to their temple. X6-88 stopped so quickly Sole thought he might’ve burned the rubber of his boot soles, Deacon and him both raising their guns and pointing at the culprit. “Take me with you.” The man demanded, though his voice obviously wavered with fear.

Sole bit back their nature to put up a struggle. The last thing they needed was a bullet to the brain after coming this far, and they were sure X6-88 and Deacon both were thinking up plans as they stood there, trapped in his clammy grip. “Take me with you and I won’t shoot them. I want out of this mess.”

“Listen, buddy. You’re gonna have to put the gun down. We can be your ticket out, but it’s kind of a bad first impression to point your gun at Sole.”

The man scoffed. “Yeah, right. I put the gun down and you’ll shoot me.”

At least he was a little smart. Sole rolled their eyes. If they tried to break away he’d probably pull the trigger, not necessarily out of some sort of fantastic reflex, but out of fear at the sudden moment. No dice there. If they used their weight to collide into him backwards the gun still might go off, but it’d probably end up pointing towards either Deacon or X6 due to their momentum, so no luck there either.

Their train of thought was cut off with the sound of a gunshot. They flinched, dropping to the floor in the perfect imitation of X6-88 when he had taught them to do so as a child. When they turned towards their captor, he was on the floor. Dead.

Standing over him was what Sole would come to realize was the perfect picture summary of the Commonwealth. A man in a brown hat, pinned up on one side, and a blue scarf stood over the scientist, gun practically smoking. Sole opened their mouth to say something, to thank him, when he stepped forward and held out his hand. They took it. “Preston Garvey. Temporary leader of the Minutemen.”

Their stunned expression finally settled. “Impeccable timing.” They commented with a laugh.

Preston gave them a grin. Sole turned and gestured behind them. “Deacon. And X6-88, he’s with us.”

“I was told. Nice to meet the man who sparked this revolution.”

Maybe it was from being around Deacon so much, but the banter came easy to them, despite the situation. “Hey, where’s my credit?”

“He’s the spark. You’re the gasoline.” They shook their head at how fitting that seemed. “And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not be here when it all goes up in flames.”

The trio definitely agreed with that. Now four, they broke out in a run. The Gateway was within reach now, and just in time, too, as they were starting to smell smoke. There were other Railroad members piling into the teleporter, too. Apparently everyone had gotten the signal that it was time to get out before the Institute became their grave, too.

They were all getting closer to stepping through when a small voice piped up. “Excuse me– what’s going on?”

They turned and were met with the sight of a confused, young brunet, probably somewhere around eleven. Sole’s eyes met Preston’s over the head of the young boy, and they found themself kneeling down. “We’ve gotta leave the Institute now. You’re going to come with us, okay?”

“But it’s dangerous out there, Father–”

“It’s more dangerous in here, right now. I promise you. I grew up here, too. You’ve seen X6-88, right?”

The child turned and looked up at X6, who’s expression was one of extreme conflict. Sole knew the logical part of his brain was telling him that the child would be dead weight, one more factor to consider in a Wasteland so unfamiliar to him. They also knew that the part of him that’d taken Sole under his wing as a younger sibling was still alive and well, and there was no way he’d leave the child behind. It seemed everyone was in silent agreement on that. “Yeah. Father says he’s the best of the best.”

There was an odd silence at that. X6 glanced away and Deacon was obviously suppressing a chuckle at the irony. Preston was the one who kneeled. “Yeah, he is the best of the best. And that’s why he’s getting us out of here. He’s protecting everyone.” The half-lie left his mouth so smoothly Sole almost wondered if he and Deacon were somehow related. There was no prickle of instinctual alarm when he did it, though. Only relief that they had backup in this strange conversation. “...alright.” The child agreed.

“What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Shaun.”

“Okay. It’s time to leave, Shaun. Let’s go.”

Stepping out of the teleporter and into broad daylight was just as jarring as it had been the first time. The chill in the air felt harsher than it had been when they left, and without thinking they shed their coat and wrapped it around Shaun. He looked so tiny, out in the Wasteland landscape, drowning in their jacket. Something in their chest stung.

The quintet were on the top of one of the few standing skyscrapers in the Commonwealth, though rickety and filled with holes where the paneling had fallen victim to the environment. The height nearly made them dizzy and they reached for Shaun’s hand, which he clutched willingly. They both seemed equally concerned about him tripping and falling.

Desdemona was waiting expectantly a few feet away, and though she tilted her head at the sight of Shaun, she said nothing. “The button is yours to push, Sole.”

They moved forward, Shaun pressed to their side. “No, it’s not.” They turned and looked at X6-88, the emotion of six years on both of their faces.

He stared at them for a moment, but they had no idea what was going through his head. He moved to stand next to them and everyone held their breath as he reached forward towards the button. A few seconds ticked by. “I–I can’t.” He shook his head, teeth gritted, as if he were angry with himself.

“Together?” Sole asked, their free hand on his arm.

He sucked in a deep breath and steadied himself. “Yes. Together.”

They both reached out, Sole covering his hand on the button with their own, the other clutched tight around Shaun’s. Preston watched with his chin raised, a relieved smile on his face. Deacon stood with his sunglasses pushed up onto the top of his head, his arms crossed, equally as pleased-looking.

They pressed the button.

The explosion surprised them. Not because of its size, though Sole wondered if this was what the pre-War people had seen when the bombs went off that fateful day, but because it was a stunning white-blue at first. Maybe it was something in the bombs themselves, or the the fire was burning white hot, but Sole was nearly knocked off their feet when the shockwave hit.

They nearly lost their footing, but four hands reached out to catch them. Deacon’s, on one arm. Hancock’s on the other; when he’d climbed up, they didn’t know, but later he’d admonish them for thinking he’d “miss the show.” X6-88’s hand landed on their shoulder, a familiar weight that was more than welcomed, more than relieving. Preston’s was placed on their back, and he gave a smile, full of respect, when they turned to look at him.

Shaun clutched at their shirt, eyes squeezed shut, their coat pulled tight around him as he shivered.

True to their word to Deacon, Sole traveled North to Sanctuary after the Institute had gone up in smoke. They were sure the Railroad could’ve used their help, even in menial ways, to deal with what had happened, but they didn’t have it in them. After everyone showed up and volunteered to go in, those who made it out alive stuck around for the most part. They had the manpower now, and less of a need to operate underground.

Deacon had given them a warm hug goodbye and wished them well. He didn’t protest their announcement. Sole had an inkling he understood.

Preston Garvey was another who hadn’t stuck around, which surprised them. He seemed like the type that lived for any good cause he could get his hands on, but apparently there had been plenty of volunteers for the Minutemen, as well. When they informed him they were headed to Sanctuary, to start a safe settlement, a little bit away from all the chaos and hopefully somewhere where people could seek refuge, his eyes lit up.

It seemed they were his new “good-cause,” and he offered them the General position a few seconds after.

Sole had told him to wait a few months and they’d give him an answer. They weren’t ready for another mission yet, not so soon after everything seemed to go to ashes. The choice was a good one, because after the first week in Sanctuary, X6-88 fell apart.

It was subtle. To the outside eye, he probably didn’t seem too different. In the few days after the explosion, he was quiet, stiff. Only spoke when spoken too, constantly stayed out of the way and observed.

Sole watched the pieces of his mask start to crumble.

X6 stayed inside. He didn’t talk, just sat and stared out the window at the landscape of the Wasteland. Sole remembered doing the same thing, at first. They’d sit on a hill and just stare, trying to make the landscape seem real. So they gave him time.

There were plenty of volunteers fixing up Sanctuary with Preston Garvey, the unwavering leader, at the helm. The holes in the walls were slowly patched, window panes replaced, soil tilled, lampposts scrapped, nature tamed. Weeks went by with X6-88 staring out that same window as the neighborhood was repaired around him.

Sole would sit with him for at least a few hours every day. Sometimes they’d read, sometimes they’d ask Shaun to come sit with them and ask him questions about his day, the things he was doing around Sanctuary to help out Preston. Shaun had taken to the man like a shadow, asking all sorts of questions that would’ve driven Sole mad. Preston had patience they didn’t, though, and was more than happy to watch the kid. Everyone had taken to calling him “Little Shadow,” though it was a nickname he protested.

After the first couple of weeks, when everyone had settled in and the excitement of a new settlement had worn off, Sole started to tell X6 about their time in the Wasteland, even though he didn’t really respond. They had reached the start of December and the winter had dug its claws into the Wasteland. Even for the Commonwealth, which was infamous for its harsh cold spells, it was unusually cruel.

Sole took shelter from the freezing weather by stoking a fire and settling onto their couch next to X6-88, watching him as he watched the snow. And they told him everything.

The way they’d been confused and distressed when they’d first landed their feet in the Commonwealth. Astonished something could be so destroyed and still be alive. The fact that the wasteland had nearly killed them, leaving them with scavenger dogs amongst piles of rubble, starving to death.

They told him of Hancock finding them, barely alive, and the way Goodneighbor breathed new life into them.

After the first couple of tales, X6-88 stopped looking out the window and turned to look at them as he listened. They begged for it to be a sign that he was coming out of the shock of what had happened, that he was finding some sort of comfort in what they were saying. Because even though so far he’d only heard stories of their suffering, he was looking directly at evidence that they had prevailed. That survival was possible, even when the rug was ripped out from underneath your feet and almost everything you knew was gone.

Though they hesitated at first, they explained how they’d felt. That betrayal had run through them until they felt like they were barely a person anymore, how from their point of view they’d felt discarded and abandoned. And then they told him how Hancock had convinced them to have hope.

Sole untangled their legs from where they had been resting on the couch and got up. The floor was so cold it stung, despite the efforts of their roaring fireplace. They were glad Shaun was curled up in bed, piled under so many blankets he could barely toss and turn. In their room, on a makeshift desk Preston replicated from Hancock’s description of the one in their room at the Old State House (which was still untouched. Hancock wanted to make sure they could always return if they ever needed to,) was the lamp.

They brought it out with them and settled back into the couch under X6-88’s watchful eye. With a light, sad smile, they tapped the top of it. It still lit up, despite all it had been through. Seconds later, the band around X6-88’s wrist lit up, as well.

X6 collapsed into sobs.

Sole did their best to hold onto him, suppressing tears at the way he was practically wailing. Having been in the same position before themself, they wished more than anything they could’ve protected X6 from what he was going through. It was too late, though, and instead, they held him as the last piece of the mask fell away.

He clung to the sleeves of their thick sweater, head on their chest as his shoulders heaved with the weight of his cries. They were unsurprised when Shaun stepped out of his room, poking his head into the hallway, his expression fearful. They gave him what little smile they could, though they were sure it wasn’t very convincing, and shook their head. “Is he okay?” Shaun mouthed.

Sole nodded. Shaun had had his own moment like that, similar to Sole and now X6. It was less violent and loud; Sole wasn’t sure if the kid was just better at bouncing back than they were, or if he hadn’t fully processed what happened, but after about half an hour he was done with Sole’s hug and ready to go outside and help Preston with his patrol.

The night crawled forward until the sun rose, the low light slowly bringing some ease to X6’s heartbreak. Slowly but surely, his crying trailed off into labored breathing, and then his breathing leveled out. He had fallen asleep.

They smoothed their hand over his back, much like he had when they’d had a nightmare and couldn’t stop crying. Shaun crept out of his room sometime after eight, the time he usually rose, and examined the scene before him. Sole didn’t hear him at first.

He was an unusually calm kid, and they weren’t sure if that was due to the way he was programmed, or just in his nature. On a normal day, Sole would’ve been up to cook him breakfast to convince him to eat before he took off to run around for the day. Even in the dead of winter, he was happy to brave the elements and explore the settlement.

When he stepped around the couch into Sole’s line of sight, they jumped slightly. “Sorry.” He whispered.

“It’s alright, kiddo. I’m afraid you’re gonna have to ask Mama Murphy for some breakfast.”

He nodded, but his eyes were on X6 sleeping fitfully. “He’s gonna be okay, Little Shadow. It’s just been hard for him, lately.”

Shaun nodded again. “Preston says everyone has a hard time with change.”

Sole smiled despite themself. “Preston’s right.”

Shaun started to step away, but Sole reached out to stop him. “Hey, make sure you bundle out tight. And don’t stay outside too long, you’ll catch your death.”

“And make sure to eat all three meals, and make sure you wash your hands before you eat, and make sure you don’t walk too close behind the Brahmin, and make sure…” His voice trailed off as he walked down the hall and closed the door to his room behind him.

“Who turned him into a smartass?” Sole muttered to themself, though they were grinning.

“You.” X6-88 answered.

Sole sucked in a startled breath and looked down at him. His eyes were open, and he was looking out the window, swollen eyelids blinking slowly. Not wanting to bring up the previous night, they laughed. “Great. I’m the irresponsible middle sibling and you’re the wondrous older brother. Wonder what he’s gonna be like when he’s older.”

X6 sat up slowly, flinching at his headache; an unwanted prize from all the crying he’d done from the night before. His feet landed on the floor and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He was still looking outside, though his eyes weren’t distant and hollow like they had been before.

Shaun came barreling out of his room, swaddled under layers and layers of coats, his scarf, and hats that “Mrs. Long” had knitted him. He knew that it wasn’t just Sole that would get on his case if he didn’t look like he was drowning in fabric, it was everyone in the settlement; they’d all taken a liking to the kid and his curiosity. The sight of X6-88, now awake and looking back at him for once, must’ve shocked him, because he stopped in front of him.

After a momentous pause, Shawn patted X6-88 on the shoulder, and in a tone far too sober for an eleven-year-old, said, “It’s gonna be okay.”

Shaun was off again, barreling out the door, and neither Sole nor X6 could help the tears that escaped after he’d shut the door behind him.

After the dam broke that night and the following morning, X6 had eventually gotten up and gone into the room Sole had made up for him whenever he decided to stop spending all his time on the couch. After everything, he needed good sleep, and Sole had made sure he was just as bundled up as Shaun had been before leaving him alone with their light on the nightstand beside him.

There was a quiet knock on the door just an hour later. Preston stood on the other side, visibly concerned, but relieved at the sight of them. “Hey. I just wanted to come by and check on you. Everything alright?”

Sole sighed, “Did Shaun tell you?”

Preston shook his head. “Didn’t have to. I hate to say it, but I think the whole settlement heard.”

“Damn. Do me a favor, don’t bring that up to X6, okay?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Mind if I come in? I have a few minutes before watch. Shaun’s over at Mama Murphy’s.” “Yeah– yeah, of course. X6 is just sleeping. I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

“Where is that kid?” Sole asked, twisting around.

They were sat on an old log. A couple of the trees around the riverbank had fallen during the winter; they’d gotten a record amount of snow, according to Detective Nick Valentine, who’d come up to visit as soon as spring broke. Apparently Diamond City had also struggled with the weight of winter, but everything was turning upright now that they were out of the thick of it.

The river that ran underneath the bridge to Sanctuary was roaring with all the melted snow, but the sun was beating down on the settlement, and everyone seemed to have that newly-spring-energy. Shaun had been sitting between Six— as they’d taken to calling him— and Sole as they’d watched the river, but Trashcan Carla had come into town and shouted that they had a treat for him and he was off like a bullet.

Sole turned back towards the river, shaking their head. “I thought the same thing more times than I can count when you were younger.” Six commented, a smile making itself known at the corners of his mouth.

Sole rolled their eyes. “I didn’t have that much energy as a kid. I don’t know where he gets it.”

Six didn’t respond to that, but tilted his head thoughtfully. He still didn’t talk as much as the other settlers, choosing to pick his words carefully when he spoke, but Sole supposed that was just who he was and not the shock of everything anymore. Getting out of the house was doing him good, anyway.

The other settlers were still cautious around him, not because he was a synth, but because they knew he had struggled and didn’t want to say the wrong thing. It annoyed Sole a bit, they couldn’t deny, that they treated him as if he was fragile, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was left alone, and that he was fine with.

Heavy footsteps announced a new presence and Sole shielded their eyes from the sun as they looked up at Preston. “Six. Sole,” He nodded, “mind if I join you two?”

“Seats free. Shaun’s disappeared, probably raiding Trashcan Carla for everything she’s worth.”

Preston laughed, hearty and warm in the spring air and Sole couldn’t help but laugh, too. “She and Mama Murphy are enablers,” Preston agreed.

Six was smiling on the other side of Preston, too. The three basked in the sunlight, grateful for even the sting of the wind that still carried a chill, the last tendrils of winter in the air. They tilted their head back and closed their eyes. “You know what?” Sole announced.

“Hm?” Preston responded.

“I think this is living.”

Preston opened his mouth, curiosity evident on his face, but was swiftly interrupted by a whooping shout from Shaun. All three of them turned to see him racing around the corner of one of the houses, something clutched in his hand. “Slow down, Little Shadow! Watch the river!” Sole shouted. “God, he’s gonna give me a heart attack one day.”

Shaun came to a stop in front of them and nearly tripped over his feet. Preston, well-accustomed to his antics, caught him easily and set him upright. “Look what Carla gave me! She said I could pick anything from her stash!”

He held out a figurine that looked quite identical to the settlement’s resident Mr. Handy, Codsworth, and speak of the devil, the robot wasn’t far behind Shaun. He floated up with a pleased clicking of machinery, “A wonderful choice if I do say so myself, sir!”

Yeah. With all the chaos and everything, this is what Sole would call living.

#Fallout 4 #Fo4 #Fanfiction #Oneshot #Imagine #Angst #Found family #Fluff #Hurt comfort #Mayor Hancock #RJ MacCready #X6-88 #gn Sole Survivor

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