fallout x reader one shots

•cait x female reader•

"Cait I-" 

"Don't look at me like that!" she shouted, pivoting on her foot to shove me backwards. I grimaced, allowing myself to stumble backwards. Cait was weakened from her psycho addiction, an addiction she so desperately tried to hide from me. Her usual tough shove felt like a small child retaliating against their angry mother, but I didn't want to hurt her pride any further. 

"Cait please! Let me-" 

"No! I can't stand it when you're like this! Lookin' at me like I'm some sort of malnourished creature to be pitied," she screamed, sweat beading on her pale, weathered forehead. 

I sighed, running my fingers through my hair and tugging towards the end. Cait was always the most stubborn person I knew, and she could flip on a dime at any moment. She never let down her facade of a rough, mean Irish girl to anyone, not even me.

"Get out of me-"

"Cait! Shut up! Can't you see after all this time, I'm here because I want to help you?!" I winced immediately, feeling my face heat up with shame. Scolding her never made me feel good, but it usually quelled her fits of shouting, shoving, and cussing. 

She slid down onto the floor of the dingy yet homey bar I had constructed at Sanctuary. Her pint was left discarded on the table, the condensation staining the table beneath it. The deafening silence was interrupted by the crackling of the neon signs on the wall and Cait's ragged breathing. 

"Ragnir..?" her suddenly weakened voice inquired from the floor of the bar. I slowly lowered myself down to the floor to sit at her level. I adjusted myself next to her, my nighttime clothing softly catching in the wooden floor. 

"What's wrong, Cait?" My voice was barely a whisper as I watched every muscle in her face tense and contract into a heart-wrenching expression of what appeared to be grief. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. I tried to hide my shock at watching her fall apart for the first time in the years if I had known her. 

Her green eyes locked onto mine, and the air became riddled with tension. We stared for a moment, our gazes darting around each other's faces for a brief moment. Her bottom lip began to tremble, and I tentatively reached out my hand to grasp her balled up hands. 

She melted into my grasp, soft cries escaping her lips. Her burning hot skin was pressed against me, and her warm tears dripped onto my clothes and bare skin. I shifted my body again, pulling Cait as close to my body as I could. My body ached as it felt as if I was holding onto a fearful child, especially upon feeling her roughened hands desperately clawing at my back.  

I had never felt Cait this close to me, and I never saw her like this before. Cait kept weakly moving her body against me, using her last bouts of energy to feel closer to me. I slipped my hands cautiously underneath her thighs and lifted her onto my lap. Her body tensed upon the touch of another person in a more 'intimate' place, and I unfortunately knew why. 

However, when Cait adjusted herself, she practically went limp. My hands froze above the small of her back, wondering how I could possibly comfort her. I opted for stroking her hair with one hand, and supporting her body with the other. Cait's torso was heaving from the crying and hyperventilation she had been going through, but it was beginning to slow. 

After another few minutes passed, and Cait stilled against me. She sniffled, unabashedly wiping her snot on the shoulder of my clothes. I laughed, the vibrations of my chest reverberating between the both of us. "You ready to talk, Cait?" I asked quietly, mindlessly tracing circles on her back. 

She lifted her head, leaving our faces about a half a foot away from each other. Her cheeks were reddened and tears trails stained her face. She nodded, and began to explain to me her addiction and how sick she was. I felt hopeless, and my eyes began to sting with tears as well, but Cait had a solution: Vault 95.