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blue-shark-named-blahaj · 29 days

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I'm curious because my favorite is Travis Miles, and I doubt he's a popular choice or even well known

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earwig5 · 4 months

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#fallout 4 #fo4 #preston garvey #preston garvey fo4

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maccreadysbaby · 1 year

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he’s just my baby! *points to a fictional middle aged man with identity problems and ptsd*

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gogogodzilla · 7 months

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day 6, dry humping

preston garvey x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, semi-public sex, fem!reader, preston calls reader babe kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

Preston was a dedicated man. Every day he rose at the crack of dawn to keep watch over Sanctuary. You built several turrets, hoping you’d get a few extra moments together in the mornings. Alas, he rose anyway.

It was rare you were in Sanctuary together. Often, you were out adventuring with one of your other companions or Preston was busy running the Minutemen in your absence. You never understood why he insisted that you be general instead of him. He was as much of a leader as anyone.

The morning was quiet, and the sun hadn’t yet breached the horizon. Preston had already left for his watch, and you walked through Sanctuary attempting to find him. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees of the once-pristine neighborhood. You’d woken up in a completely different world, one where danger lurked in every corner. Where your quaint neighborhood was now half-deteriorated with time.

The red glow of his laser musket provided the only indication he was at the edge of the treeline. He patrolled slowly, eyes scanning out over the small river that lined Sanctuary. You approached slowly.

He turned as you neared, sensing your presence. In the darkness, you could hardly make out the curve of his grin as you stood side by side.

“You didn’t have to get up, y’know,” he murmured, his gaze still focused out over the river.

You shrugged, “I missed you.”

The chill in the early morning air nipped through your vault suit, and you huddled closer to Preston, seeking his warmth.

“You should go back inside. You’re going to catch a cold.”

You stepped closer to him and wrapped a hand around his bicep. He sighed as you laid your head against his shoulder. Your stubbornness knew no bounds.

“I was hoping to distract you for a few moments,” you cooed as you trailed a delicate finger down his bicep.

He looked down at you; he knew that tone very well.

He kept his tone even, a smirk dancing across his lips. “That why you really came out to see me?”

“You know me so well,” you grinned, pulling him toward a nearby tree.

Your brows raised slightly as Preston allowed you to lead him. Normally, he wouldn’t be so easy to convince. He set his laser musket against the side of the tree, close enough that it was within arms reach.

You grabbed him by the lapels of his duster and tugged him closer, your lips ghosting over his.

“Think you can let the turrets keep watch for a sec?”

Preston’s hands latched onto your hips, stroking the soft flesh through your vault suit.

“I think they can handle it.”

He leaned in closing the distance between you in a tender kiss. Your lips moved in sync, and you cupped his face, bringing him closer. You pressed yourself against him, feeling the solid warmth of his chest against yours.

The bark of the tree dug into your back as Preston’s hands wandered over your body, kneading and grabbing wherever he could. He leaned down and tapped the back of your thighs— your signal that he wanted to pick you up.

You obediently jumped and he caught you, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He pulled away, panting. His breath fanned across your cheeks as you touched your forehead to his.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek and began trailing them down, down, down. His lips danced across your jawline, leaving featherlight kisses. He honed in on the spot that usually left you a writhing mess under him, sucking and biting to his heart’s content. You slapped a hand over your mouth as he did so, attempting to stop your whiney moans from waking up the entire neighborhood.

Preston bucked his hips against your core, already painfully hard. You couldn’t deny the effect he had on you either. You were probably already dripping through your vault suit.

“Let’s go home,” you panted, leaning your head back to give Preston more room.

He receded and straightened, allowing for his clothed length to press further against you.

“Can’t leave m’ post, General,” he replied, a suggestive lilt in his voice.

Your imagination was beginning to roam wild as his response sunk in. Your cheeks flamed as you pictured Preston taking you against this tree, thick cock splitting you in half, one hand over your mouth keeping you quiet while the other one rubbed your clit or groped your breasts.

Preston laughed, a light sound that brought you out of your filthy daydream. It was almost as if he could tell immediately where your mind went.

He gripped your hips as he ground against you once again, a shaky breath tumbling past his lips. His eyes remained on yours as he rutted against you, the thick fabric of his pants providing the friction you desired.

You plucked the hat off of his head and placed it on your own as you jutted against each other. Preston groaned, his pace increasing as he watched you jerk against him, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

His hand drifted down to where your hips were joined, and he rubbed soothing circles against your clit. It was like he could read your mind, and you bucked your hips against him. You were close and clenching around nothing as he drove you near the edge.

Before you knew it, you were falling to pieces in the palm of his hand. You attempt to stifle your desperate pleas. Preston shudders against you, thrusting against your inner thigh.

You brought him into a slow, sensual kiss. He let you down, strong hands keeping you steady on shaky legs.

The first light of dawn had begun to paint the sky shades of pink and orange. The warm rays bathed the both of you in a gentle hue.

Your eyes wandered downward to the wet spot staining Preston’s crotch. You bit back a grin, “It’s a good thing your coat is long.”

Preston rolled his eyes, “Very funny, babe.”

#preston garvey #fallout 4 #preston garvey x reader #preston garvey fo4 #preston garvey x ss #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #no y/n #reader insert #preston garvey x sole survivor #preston garvey smut #preston garvey x sole survivor smut #preston garvey x reader smut

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whatanightmaregrinch · 1 year

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himb seething

#fallout 4 #fallout #my art #preston garvey #preston garvey fo4 #practising doodling on my iPad and it’s going well so far I think ;A;#my shift got cancelled so I’m sat at home drawing angery Preston

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userdogmeat · 7 months

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Faith, Hope, and Love

@falloutober 8

cw: religious content/discussions

“You ever went to one of those, General?” He asked with a tip of his head, directing her attention to the decaying Concord chapel that stood at the end of their patrol route. A symbol of the past and long dead tradition.

Nora nodded matter-of-factly, “I went to that very one.”

It was hard not to sound impressed at Nora’s casual revelation, “No kidding.”

“Every Sunday.”

“I didn’t peg you for the religious type.”

Nora chuckled as she shook her head, “No - no,” she corrected, “I’m not - I wasn’t, never was. But - uh, Nate was, shockingly enough.”

He couldn’t help the way he soured at the mention of his name. Nate, her dead husband, the one Nora refused to talk about. “Interesting,” he nodded, he hoped that the conversation would end there - the way most of their conversations did if they weren’t directly about Minutemen business.

Preston wasn’t quite sure why they hadn’t really bonded. Sure, he hadn’t made much of an attempt other than the usual casual pleasantries and small talk but talking had never quite been his forte and apparently, it hadn’t been hers either. He’d known her for nearly seven months now, they’d fought side-by-side together on more than one occasion, they had reclaimed the Castle, rebuilt Sanctuary, and yet, here he was eager to kill the conversation he had just started just moments ago before Nora did it for him.

She had been so quiet during their travels together, only willing to indulge on the basics of who she was - or had been. Nora was a lawyer, a desperate mother in search of her infant son, and a widow to a soldier - a religious soldier. Had that been common before the war? He had so many questions for Nora - questions that he was confident she’d never answer in conversations that they’d never have.

“He was Italian,” she said simply, her voice pulling him out of his thoughts and drawing his attention to her, “Nataniel De Luca.”

“Italian?”

Nora glanced over at him, her expression just as curious as his before chuckling. “I forgot that that’s not a thing anymore, I guess. Italians and their Catholicism, or whatever. Italians,” she began to explain with an awkward pause, her fingers tapping at the rifle slung at the ready in front of her, “they're from Italy - obviously - which is a country in Europe, and they are - were - for the most part Catholics, which was this huge religion and Nate’s family. They were - uh, they were pretty devout Catholics. Church every Sunday, only fish on Friday’s, the rosary every single evening kind of Catholics.”

Preston listened intently as she continued, he hadn’t heard this much ever come out of her - let alone about a topic like this.

“And don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t like I minded. It was just something that I didn’t grow up with but it was fine. It gave me something to do, provided a community that I never really had growing up, I liked it.”

He could hear the uncertainty in her voice, the way she was still trying to convince herself two-hundred years later.

“I had to if I wanted to marry him.”

Preston shot her a pointed look and Nora quickly shook her head, “No! He wasn’t forcing me, he never would’ve - maybe his family was - but it was the church that demanded it. If we wanted to get married by the church - ,” she pointed to the building ahead of them, “if we wanted to get married in that church, then I had to go.”

“You got married there?”

“Mm-hm,” she nodded, “we were going to baptize Shaun there, too.”

Were.

Preston felt her pain radiate into him, his own chest aching as Nora blinked back tears that had begun to well into the corners of her eyes, the way they always did when her baby’s name was brought up. It was one of the reasons Preston never asked, he knew just how much it hurt her.

“Do you mind - ,” she started, pausing to wipe away a fallen tear, “do you mind if we go in for a second?”

“No, not at all.”

Preston stepped into the chapel before her, his laser musket drawn high as he scanned the nave for any unwanted surprises. It was surprisingly empty, spare for the debris that had accumulated from centuries without care.

“It’s clear,” he called back to her, offering his hand to guide her in.

Nora took in a shaky breath before hesitantly taking his hand. He squeezed it gently as he cleared some of the ceiling rubble away out of their path with his boot, only letting go after Nora had. He stood and watched as Nora took a few hesitant steps forward, her fingers gliding over the pews armchairs and pulling up streaks of dust from the dark wood until she finally stopped.

Preston watched as she kneeled next to the pew, her lips uttering words that he couldn’t quite make out as her fingers tapped her forehead and chest before taking a seat without a sound.

They were like this for quite some time, her sitting in the pew just a few rows from where he was standing and for the most part he watched her: the way she just sat there, staring at the empty pulpit. It wasn’t until he saw the shake of her shoulders that he moved, quickly stepping forward to stand at her side.

“Hey,” he whispered as he climbed into the pew next to her, careful to not startle her, “talk to me.”

“I miss them, Preston,” she cried, tears now flowing freely, “I miss my family.”

His hand fell quickly onto her back, a tender hand rubbing small circles into her back as he tried to soothe her, “I know, Nora. I’m sorry.”

Nora fell into him, her head resting against his chest as he tightly pulled her into him and she cried, his free hand brushing the hair that began to stick to her tear-stained face while loud sobs filled the chapel as Nora wept for her husband and baby.

Preston held her close for as long as she needed, perhaps for as long as he needed. He’d never been one for physical affection, never once straying past a good pat on the back with his Minutemen comrades but this - this - right here, right now. It was what the moment required.

He stared ahead at the pulpit at the end of the nave’s long corridor, his eyes fixated on the crumbling statue of a woman holding a baby that stood a few feet behind it. And it wasn’t Nora and Shaun but just an unknown mother and her beloved baby boy, a beloved baby boy that the mother must have held and loved, the same way that Nora had loved him. And so it was Nora, the unknown mother who had never held faith but had always loved her son. And he knew right then and there that he would do anything to help her get him back.

#falloutober #sole survivor #preston garvey #preston garvey fo4 #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout fanfiction #i know that this prompt was days ago but ive had this story idea on my mind for awhile now and wanted to give it a go #userdogmeat creates #i thought the song was fitting as the sole survivor was the first thing i thought of the first time i heard this song #also for some reason ive made italians extinct im sorry italians #falloutober2023 #falloutober 2023 #Spotify

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nerdyerror · 2 years

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Random Fallout headcanons pt 1

Arthur Maxson has internalized homophobia even though he’s probably bi. Defo has a crush on Danse like seriously.

Sturges absolutely has a crush on Preston Garvey.

Sarah Lyons did not die, she faked her death bcs pressure.

Cait needs a haircut 💇‍♀️.

After leaving the brotherhood Danse joins the minutemen.

Mina (My sole) has convinced several people that the minutemen’s actual slogan is “The Minutemen; we’ll take anybody, or anything.”

Synths that have the same letter designation are siblings

(Sort of an add on to the previous) Sturges’ synth designation is M1-69 (yes childish) so he and Danse (M7-97, yes I have that memorized) are brothers

Three Dog and Travis Miles would get along.

Three Dog would try and Travis’ confidence and stuff like that.

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siberiascaravan · 1 year

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Dating Preston Garvey would include:

• Walks at night under the stars of sanctuary.

• Listening to is ideas of the future; with his outlook being so positive now that you’re here.

• Obviously helping the minutemen. You’re the general now after all.

• Flustering him by whispering in his ear. Virtually anything.

• Helping Another settlement out.

#PrestonGarvey #preston garvey #minutemen #minute men #Preston Garvey fo4 #Preston Garvey Fallout 4 #I don’t think this is working out #meme #Preston fo4 #Garvey fo4 #Preston Garvey Fanfic

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razumdars · 21 days

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Anyways while racism in the writer's room is definitely a thing and does affect how black characters are written and portrayed, to say "well this character wasn't written well (because of racism) so THAT'S why I find them boring!" is just disingenuous and trying to shove blame elsewhere.

Wyll may have been shafted in terms of writing, but he still clearly had more effort and time put into him than Halsin. And yet out of those two characters, which one is more popular in the fandom?

Dragon Age: Inquisition may bend over backwards to make Vivienne seem like a villain at times, and her opinion on the Circles is a bit complex, but that game also has Cullen in it - who was an antagonist for two previous games, and also has even stricter views on mages and the Circles. And out of the two of them, who's the one people are more forgiving to?

Preston Garvey might have a bugged radiant quest that means he says the same thing over and over and over again, but why is it annoying when he does it and endearing when it's characters in other games? (Brynjolf's "Sorry lass, I've got important things to do" comes to mind)

While yes, we should hold writers and developers accountable for the racism they bake into their games, this does not change that fandom is a transformative space. Fandoms will regularly take characters who were underwritten, who were treated poorly by their source material, or who were overlooked, and create beautiful works of art and fiction surrounding them.

So it's quite telling when they refuse to do this with the black characters.

#sophie.txt #fandom racism #baldur's gate #bg3 #wyll ravengard #preston garvey #vivienne de fer #dragon age #dai #fallout #fo4

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pissedoffghoul · 1 month

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preston meets you, finds out that you're from 200 years ago (or at least that you believe it) and is like "alright, anyway" and hes real for that

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #preston garvey

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blue-shark-named-blahaj · 8 days

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The Guy that needs SO MUCH more respect.

#preston garvey fo4 #preston garvey #fo4 #fallout #fallout fanart #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 #art #my art

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protosymphonette · 7 days

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fo4 stupid junk

#fallout 4 #fo4 #rj maccready #paladin danse #preston garvey #cait fo4 #dogmeat #i love inventing beef between characters #symphonart

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maccreadysbaby · 2 years

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Soft Forms of Affection that the Male Companions Enjoy (romanced or platonic)

Danse: He really enjoys when sole pats and/or rests their hand on his shoulder. It shows that they’re comfortable around him and that’s really all he could ask for.

Deacon: He loves it when sole leans their head on him while they’re sitting, and really likes to lay his head in their lap when he’s comfortable with them. Bonus points if they mess with his hair, he will be out like a light.

Gage: He pretends he doesn’t like affection, but he actually enjoys when sole lays on his lap, but that’s really about it. Everything else is a hit or miss.

Hancock: To be honest this dude likes anything and everything. Hugs? Yes. Holding hands? Duh. Standing on his shoulders to change a lightbulb? Sure.

MacCready: He is very hesitant about it, but he does really like holding hands and letting sole mess with his fingers. Only if they are super close. He is also a fan of laying his head in their lap. Only if he’s romanced, though.

Nick: He likes to put his arm around Sole and sometimes hold hands, but that’s about it. He’s insecure because he’s a synth.

Preston: He, similarly to Hancock, will take anything he can get if he is comfortable with it. Hugs, hand holding, snuggling, but only if he’s been romanced.

X6-88: He doesn’t necessarily do it for himself, he does it mostly for sole’s benefit. But he does quite like holding hands. It’s like an extra tab he can keep on the vault dweller at all times.