#rj maccready x sole survivor

[wassertoffatom]

Hiii I’m loving your little story’s amazing!

16 with our boy Maccready?

Maybe (RJ MacCready x F!Sole)

Main Master List || Prompt Master List

Author's Note: I'm really sorry about this one. My brain connected to my fingers and took it away from me. BUT THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!!

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, HEAVY HEAVY MENTIONS OF SUICIDE ATTEMPT, can't stress that enough, it got a tiny bit dark, language, alcohol usage

Word Count: 1.5k

==========

The Commonwealth is awake tonight, brimming with relief and happiness. Everyone heard the loud explosion that rattled what was left of Boston. The dust had settled hours ago, coating the Boston Commons in a thin layer of radioactive fallout. You’re not sure where your team went, but if you had to guess, they’re out celebrating. You should be celebrating with them, but how can you when you have just killed your only son?

So you sit alone, nursing a bottle of aged whiskey as you stare out into the city, contemplating your life these past eight months. Maybe Shaun had a point, you think to yourself, taking a swig of liquid. Maybe the Commonwealth is beyond helping. The thought causes you to freeze. How can you think like that? Despite 70% of the inhabitants trying to kill you, there are still some decent people. Thoughts like that are what formed the Institute. Maybe Shaun did get his messed up ideologies from you.

Shrugging your shoulders, you take another chug from your bottle, eyes peering out from the edge of MassFusion. Struggling to get up, you stagger to the edge, leaning your top half over, gauging the height. If you jumped, death would be guaranteed.

Tears prickle your eyes as you unlatch your pip boy, setting it to the side before stepping onto the edge, body swaying in drunken stupor. Would anyone miss you? What use to them are you now that the Institute is destroyed? Maybe MacCready will miss you, but even then, he got what he wanted. He got his son back. He won’t miss you. He has his son, everyone has someone, and you don’t. Maybe it would be best to join Shaun and Nate in the grave. “I’m sorry, Robert.”

Your leg slips off the edge, closing your eyes, expecting to meet air, but instead your body is thrown to the ground. Either that was a really fast fall or you’re dead. “What the actual hell are you doing?” That’s not Nate’s voice. That’s MacCready’s. Why am I hearing his voice? Is this what the afterlife is like? A pair of arms shake your body vigorously, causing your eyes to open, meeting a pair of very blue, but very angry eyes. “What the heck is your problem?” He drags your body away from the edge toward the center of the roof. 

“Mac? Am I dead?” You try to sit up but he places his body on top of yours, his hands holding your arms to your side.

“Is that what you’re doing? Were you trying to kill yourself?” His voice is strained, trying to hold back his emotion. “Why the fu-frick would you do that?”

You try again to sit up, but he doesn’t budge. In normal circumstances, you would blush with him on top of you, maybe tease him. Now is not that time. Knowing that he caught you, you let out a sigh of defeat. “Yeah, RJ. I was.”

Tears well in his eyes. Why would you do that to him? It’s bad enough Lucy is dead, he does not want another person he cares about dead. And no one would’ve known. “Why?”

Looking away from his heartbroken face, tears spill down your cheeks. “I don’t belong here, Mac. I don’t belong in this world.”

“So what? You’re just going to jump? Not tell anyone? Let some raider find your dead body? What if Piper had found your body? Hancock? Nick? Deacon?”

“Mac.”

“What if I had found your body? Do you have any idea what that would have done to me? How could you even think about doing something so… so stupid?!”

“There’s nothing for me here!” You yell out into the night, giving up trying to get out of his grasp. “My husband is dead! My son is DEAD! And I’m all alone,” you sob from underneath him as he looks away, wiping his tears. “I mean, Piper has her sister. Nick has Ellie. Hancock has Fahrenheit. You have Duncan. I have no one.”

MacCready slips off of you, instead pulling you onto his lap and holding you close to his body, terrified that you would try to jump again. One of his hands reaches up to stroke your hair in a vain attempt to sooth you. Looking up into the night sky, MacCready wishes to whoever is out there that they provide him with the words that he wants to say, but has always been scared to. A bright twinkle in the sky catches his eyes and he takes that as a sign. “You have me,” he pauses as your sobs begin to subside, now replaced with sniffles. “I love you, dammit. You’re the most incredible, strong, courageous, beautiful woman I know. You literally walked out of a vault, in a new world, and bared it to find your son. Not a lot of people would have done that. They would’ve given up, seen it as a lost cause, but not you. And even when we weren’t trying to find your son, you still helped people in ways that no one would have done.” You fall silent as he looks straight at you. “Even when given the choice between your son and the rest of the city, you chose the city. You’ve done so much for everyone. You’ve done so much for me. You saved me, from myself. I don’t know what I would do if I hadn’t seen you the second that I did.”

“How did you even see me? I thought everyone would be out celebrating?” MacCready chuckles, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, using his thumb to wipe your cheek.

“I never left. I decided to just stay in the shadows. I knew you needed space and I didn’t want to be a bother, so I just hung around in the shadows. It’s a damn good thing that I did. I didn’t know what you were going to do, but my gut was telling me you were about to do something stupid, so I stepped in.” Both of you fall silent, embarrassment blooming under your cheeks at the thought of actually going through with it right in front of him while he comes down from the adrenaline rush of running over to you and grabbing onto you at the last second before throwing you onto the ground. He didn’t mean to throw you, but if it was throwing you two feet onto the roof or watching you fall 14 stories, he would throw you over and over until he couldn’t no more. 

Reaching back to scratch at the nape of his neck, he averts his eyes to the edge where he had almost lost you before turning his attention back to you. “Look, (Y/N). I know you think that you don’t have anyone here, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m sure that the entire decent half of the Commonwealth would rally behind you if you gave the word. And I know I’m not a lot, but you have me at the very least. You will always have me.”

His words peel at your heart. You’ve always had a soft spot for the mercenary, and fell completely in love with him when he told you his story. And now, hearing him pour out his heart again, this time for you, has you reconsidering your plight. “RJ. You are more than enough.” You surge forward, your lips pressing into his like he’s your lifeline. 

It takes him only a second to realize what is happening, but as he realizes, he’s immediately kissing back, holding you impossibly close, mentally cursing the clothes between the two of you. Not that he’s thinking of sex right now, because he’s definitely not, but he craves the physical intimacy that this moment requires. Pulling away with slight regret, he presses his forehead against, sharp lines of his nose nudging yours in a loving manner. “Please, reconsider. Stay here, alive, with your friends. With me. Stay with me.”

“But what about Duncan?”

“What about him? (Y/N), you and him are the most important people in my life. I would do anything for either of you. Please, stay with me and Duncan. I need you.”

Nodding your head, you wipe the snot from your nose with the back of your hand, trying to make yourself presentable knowing it’s a moot point. “Ok.”

“Okay!” He giggles softly, pulling you back into him, cradling your head as he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”

“RJ?”

“Hmm?”

“If I did do it. Would you come to my funeral?” 

“I’d bury you next to Nate and Lucy. I mean it. I would do anything for you.”

[shinox]

Fo4 fandom forgive me, this man asked me to split MOLERAT TEETH and I can't un-think that he doesn't even look before he asks anymore. He's gunna ask for something embarrassing eventually istg

[fallout-through-the-crawlout]

Danse: Congratulations, you three have won gold, silver, and bronze in the morons’ Olympics.

Maccready:

Sole Survivor:

Deacon: Who won gold?

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Hi! I really like your writing!

Can I request a MacCready x reader where he's patching you up? If possible, can he be denying/ ignoring being in love with you, too?

Wounds ↠ MacCready x Reader

➼ Word Count » 0.7k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Romantic, Pinning ➼ A/N » Sorry for the wait, love! I couldn't figure out how I should write him for the longest time, and I still don't feel like I did him much justice, but it's done!

You never imagined that your relationship with the sniper would evolve into anything more than business partners. He made it clear from the start that he didn't have any intention to be your friend. You paid him, he did his job, and that's all the two of you would ever be - until you ran out of currency, that is.

You can remember the exact moment you walked into the Third Rail. A pile of newly attained caps in your pocket that jingled together whenever you jostled your leg too quickly. It was a wonder how you managed to make it that far into town without being mugged, but you supposed the vibrant welcoming from the Mayor himself had more to do with it than you actually appearing as a threat to anyone.

You only wandered into the VIP section out of curiosity. You'd always been a sucker for bar fights, so when you heard an argument brewing up in the back, you couldn't help but be a bit nosy about it.

"You have to tell me when something like this happens." He chided, inspecting the gash on your leg with evident concern. "It's too dangerous out here for you to be ignoring something like this."

"Don't get soft on me." You teased, jerking your leg back at the sting that came when he began pouring water on top of the wound.

You knew you probably shouldn't be joking around at a time like this, but what else could you do? You hated the thought of burdening your companion like this, and after you were so close to arriving at Sanctuary too.

His eyes flickered up to meet your own for a minute before casting them back down at the blood he was washing off your body, "I'm not." He hissed, "I'm making sure my only source of caps stays alive."

You hummed in response, "It's only a scratch. It's not like I'll die. Once we make it back to Sanctuary, I'll have Curie take a look at it, and we'll be back on the road."

"Yeah, well, until then, I'm going to make sure you don't get an infection."

You winced again from the feeling of cold water roughly scrubbing at your wound before gazing apologetically at him.

"I'm fine Mac, really," You said, "It's been healing fine on its own for the past couple of days now"

He takes his hat off of his head and runs a stressed hand through his hair.

He did that same motion in the bar where you'd found him, right after Winlock and Barnes were done confronting him. It made you frown slightly when you saw it.

"Are you.. ok?" You asked slowly, resting a hesitant hand on his shoulder, worried that you might've upset him.

"Are you ok?" He retorted, gesturing vaugely toward your injury.

"I feel fine. Really. I'll be able to make it to the settlement without any support." You assured him - or at least tried to, he didn't seem to be feeling any less concerned, though.

"I just - why didn't you tell me?"

"I knew you'd stress about it." You sighed, "It's nothing, ok? I'll be ok for the time being. Once we're there I'll go straight to the Medic house, alright?"

"Whatever." He muttered, "Come on, I'll carry you on my back until we can get you too a real doctor."

You scoffed playfully, "You're too scrawny to-"

"Get on." He spoke, cutting you off. "I want to get there before it gets dark."

You stared at him for a moment before letting out a sigh and grasping onto his shoulders.

He slotted his arms under your knees carefully, and it was clear by the way he moved over debris that he was trying his hardest not to jostle you too much.

His actions only brought you back to the day you had met. You smiled to yourself as you remembered him counting the caps you'd handed to him before he explained he wouldn't be caring for you in any capacity. He was a bodyguard, not a member of the Minutemen. If you couldn't patch yourself up, then there'd be no reason for him to stay.

You supposed something must've changed between then and now, as he did the one thing he told you he wouldn't.

"What are you breathing in my ear for?" He asked defensively. You could feel his face heating up ever so slightly as you rested your head on his shoulder.

You smiled a little wider, "No reason."

[somethingaboutmint]

i'm ill

[blackmoonowl]

Hello fellow RJ enjoyer tumblr user blackmoonowl. As we both know, our poor mercenary shoulders several worlds' worth of stress and he doesn't often get a lot of downtime to enjoy things.

What are the little things in life that bring a smile to his face?

Sincerely, a fic writer who keeps making him board the bullet train to whumptown. Here's an older screenshot out of my faves as thanks <3 Have a great day!

𓅓 Hello fellow MacCready enjoyer Twosides--samecoin. I happen to have an idea or two for a little messy list I threw together.

Things that MacCready would probably like!:

❤︎ Caps, obviously. This greedy hog will expect a cut of all the caps you find. He's still a mercenary after all.

❤︎ The games on your pipboy, let him play with them and he'll be content for a while. Same goes for any comics you've collected.

❤︎ Hold him, he'll sink into your arms and you won't be going anywhere for a couple hours whilst he unwinds. Give him a few kisses to boot and he's a goner.

❤︎ Giving him sentimental objects of your past. He gave you the wooden toy soldier out of trust after you saved his son. Return the favor and this man falls head over heels onto his ass in love with you, again.

❤︎ For all his whining about earning caps and not standing around, MacCready loves lazy mornings. Simply lounging in bed with his arms wrapped around you, spooning you as his face lies in your shoulder. Good luck prying him off of you.

❤︎ If you are good with his son, prepare for a very emotional and happy mercenary. He might even consider a second child, one with you this time. With how things are going.. it might not not be such a bad idea.

❤︎ Loves stupid little competitions with you. Who can shoot more ferals? Who can drink more? It's one of his favorite past times to playfully challenge you.

❤︎ Your cooking. If you are somewhat decent at making food he's absolutely inhaling that shit, then asking for seconds. You'll be surprised with how such a thin guy can eat so much. He just has a very fast metabolism.

❤︎ Going out on the town. MacCready loves to drink at bars. At first he did it to drown his sorrows, letting the alcohol soothe the pain to cope. But now he loves going there with you, simply as a date.

❤︎ Also he likes Dogmeat. It's not your dog anymore, it's MacCready's dog. He loves playing fetch with the doggo when he's having some time to relax.

[perfectlypreservedpie]

MacCready Fanfiction Recs (Fallout 4)

hey everybody, nobody asked for this but in the midst of writing fallout fanfic I was feeling a special kind of love for my favorite fo4 fanfics and wanted to recommend them in case you hadn't read 'em. Because they are VERY GOOD and writing fanfic is hard, so you gotta give props to those who sweat for your comfort fics.

I'm gonna recommend my top three finished fanfics, and then two more bonus fics that are being updated rn. As a clarifier, these are all Maccready fallout 4 fics. so. keep that in mind.

im tagging the authors and also anybody who wants to join and share their favorites too!

3. THE FATHER(S) AND THE SON(S) on ao3 by @sirmanmister

I'm going to preface this rec by saying this: there is Fanon MacCready. There is canon MacCready. And then there is ascended!whatBethesdawishesitWAS MacCready, which exists solely in this fanfiction. The characterization of Mac is so well written. He is snarky, he is vulnerable. He desperately wants to grow up but doesn't know how. He has the most sick character arc in this story!!!

It's not a romance but instead a coming of age story where the sole survivor becomes a de-facto parent to Mac. The heart of the story is about how to raise a child while you're still trying to grow up yourself. The apocalypse setting lends itself well because the Wasteland is a place where NOTHING is beautiful, but the way that M!Sosu and MacCready care for their sons is beautiful. Which makes it special and worth fighting for.

As a fun fact, I read The Road by Cormac McCarthy for class a week after finishing this fic and I was thinking about this fic the whole time because the themes of fatherhood during an apocalypse hit a lot of the same beats. Maybe my professor would kick me in the teeth by comparing fic to McCarthy, but @sirmanmister YOU ARE MY CORMAC MCCARTHY <3

2. WORKING CLASS HERO on ao3 by @bluegrasskitty

This is the kind of fic you take with you to toilet, to work, in-between classes. It will suck you in. AND THERE'S A SEQUEL TOO YOU GUYS‼️

The sole survivor in this story is the model for the Nuka Cola girl. You know the hot lady in the spacesuit? SHE HAS A BACKSTORY. AND YALL IT MADE ME WEEP. During some point of the story, I sort of stopped rooting for MacCready to be the narrator and just wanted Nora Cabot to take the reins. When I tell you I think of this oc every two to three business weeks. She's an incredible leading lady. I can't look at Nuka Girl posters in the game without thinking of Nora Cabot, my beloved.

the sequel IS SO FIRE. It's the best reimagining of 'what happened after the institute blew up' that I've ever read. im gnawing at the bars of my enclosure actually.

A VERY GOOD PLOT TWIST I CANNOT MENTION TO NEW READERS BUT IF YOU'VE READ IT YOU'LL UNDERSTAND. AND IF YOU UNDERSTAND DM ME I HAVE TO TALK TO SOMEBODY ABOUT IT. HHh.

The amount of world building that @bluegrasskitty puts into this story is insane. They ARE Beth Esda.

As a fun fact, I didn't know that radchickens were canon in fallout. I thought it was a plot device made up by this author to excuse the ability to make cake in this book, but radchickens ARE real. When I was playing Far Harbor last year, I found radchickens and thought that @bluegrasskitty manifested them into existence because they had that kind of power.

that being said, I still think this author has that kind of power.

1. Atom Bomb Baby on ao3 by @starlightwrites

I think you dropped something....my jaw.

fellas. fellas. this is my comfort fic. You ever had a comfort fic? Something you come back to at least once a year to reread to feel something? the fiction equivalent of chicken noodle soup? this is what Atom Bomb Baby is to me. this is peak literature actually. if I ever figure out book binding, im doing this one first.

Plot wise, it's a retelling of Fallout 4's main story through the perspective of MacCready. But (and im wheezing as I say this) it's also so much more THAN THAT.

this fic author understands that MacCready is not a womanizer but is in fact a touch starved loser. and they are CORRECT.

MacCready spends the entire fic like 'uuuhhhh I dunno about this one, boss!'

ITS BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS RAHHHHHH

it also has a nostalgia feel to me too, because reading it gives me the same feeling as what it was like to play the game for the first time, years ago. maybe it's because I've read it so many times over the years, but reading it feels so satisfying.

The author spends 10 chapters at the end solely dedicated to an epilogue. I wish more stories did this. They go through the wringer in this story, and it's so deeply satisfying to see how cleanly everything gets wrapped up. MacCready and the Lola work really well together as a couple, so it's awesome to see how they work together after the battle is done.

6 out of 5 stars.

BONUS FICS !! aka fics that are still updating! I squeal with joy when I get an ao3 email about these: 1. Best Laid Plans on ao3 by @druidgroves - Georgia Tate is an incredible character and sole survivor! She was a teacher prewar, so it's really fun to get her perspective on the world. She cares a lot about education and libraries and I find her really relatable and endearing. It's a cool thing for a character in an apocalypse to care about! It also makes for fun tension with Mac, who's written as a pragmatic survivor. A great take on familiar characters and their dynamics. - And It's a great slow burn! I'm really enjoying reading it. 2. Long Time Running on ao3 by @twosides--samecoin - If you've ever thought that Med-Tek was too convenient an option for Duncan's cure, this fic was written with you in mind. - RJ goes to Canada and im obsessed with it. - If you're interested in fallout lore, specifically the bit where the U.S annexed Canada and wished that there was more info about that, I would highly recommend this fic. Twosides--samecoin put in THE WORK. The world building they do to explain Canada's side of the Great War is so fun!!! its genuinely such a thrill to read!

I'm tagging the authors who I mentioned, if you all have favorite fics (fallout or otherwise, I'd love to hear em!) Thank you for making good art!

[gogogodzilla]

day 12, public sex

robert joseph maccready x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, creampie, unprotected sex, slight dirty talk, afab reader kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

It wasn’t often that you spent the night in Goodneighbor. However, you were in the area and couldn’t resist Magnolia’s siren song. The drinks at the Third Rail were shit but the company was one of a kind.

There you sat, leaning into MacCready’s space as you drank. You spoke in hushed whispers and stolen glances, and his cheeks were dusted pink. At around midnight, you were dragging him out the door. 

“Let’s get some air,” you’d whispered against the shell of his ear, hand dancing across his thigh. Your heart was pounding as you led him through the alleyways of Goodneighbor, stealing a kiss or two along the way. 

You stood in a particularly deserted alleyway, the cramped space bathed in shadows. The sounds of Goodneighbor’s nightlife had faded, and it was just the two of you under the wasteland sky. 

Your breath caught in your throat as MacCready stepped closer. You mirrored his steps backward until your back hit the brick wall behind you. His hand gently cupped your cheek, and he closed the distance between you. 

The kiss was tender but it quickly morphed into something more. Something hungry. You pulled him impossibly closer by the lapels of his duster. He gripped your hips, and you didn’t doubt that there would be bruises by there tomorrow. 

You moved to wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. You ran a hand through the hair at the back of his head, tugging lightly on the strands. He groaned into your mouth and slid his tongue against your bottom lip. A shudder of pleasure ran through you as his hands wandered down and squeezed your ass. He traced his tongue across the backs of your teeth, and you gasped. 

MacCready pulled away, leaving you panting into the night air. He pressed a sloppy kiss against the side of your neck as he slid one of his thighs between your legs. He sunk his teeth into the space where your shoulder met your neck, and you rocked your hips against his thigh. He sucked a love bite into the sensitive area of skin. 

You reached a hand between the two of you and pawed at his belt, your fingers clumsy thanks to MacCready’s teasing. He pushed a hand under your shirt, fingers splaying across your ribcage and moving to knead your breast. You bit your lip, barely stifling your desperate moans. 

You forced yourself to focus enough to completely undo his belt buckle and pants. You dipped your hand under the waistband of his briefs, fingertips brushing against his cock. MacCready groaned against the crook of your neck once you finally touched him, wrapping a hand around his length. 

You stroked him slowly, throwing a glance over to where the alleyway led to the rest of Goodneighbor. You weren’t too close to be in plain sight, but it only took one curious member of the Neighborhood Watch to catch you two in the act. 

“Wh- what if they see us?” MacCready stuttered out, following your train of thought and calculating the odds of getting caught. 

You pick up your pace and use your free hand to unbutton your own jeans. “Guess we better be quick,” you replied, mouth curving into a devious smile. 

MacCready’s movements were hurried as he pulled away and turned you around. He wrapped his arms around you and unzipped your pants, allowing him to yank them, along with your underwear down to your knees. You gasped as your bottom half was exposed to the cool night air. He slid a finger through your folds, and you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, muffling the whine that threatened to escape you. 

He slipped his cock through your folds, gathering your slick. You pressed your cheek against the brick wall. He gripped the plumpness of your ass as he ground against you, hitting your clit with every drag. 

“Need you, Mac,” you whimpered out, hands splayed out against the wall to steady yourself. 

He was quick to oblige you and angle his cock up to your entrance. He agonizingly pushed inside you. The way he stretched you was exquisite, and you let out a high-pitched mewl.  MacCready covered your mouth with one of his hands, the other gripping your hip like his life depended on it. 

“Gotta be quiet,” he hissed as he rutted into you, punctuating each word with a thrust of his hips. 

He pressed feverish kisses to the side of your neck as he reached a hand around to rub tight circles against your clit. You let out a breathy moan against his hand and pushed your hips back against his. The alleyway had filled with the noises of skin slapping and the wet sounds of your heat. 

MacCready’s thrusts became sloppier as he grabbed your jaw and turned your head so he could kiss you. With one final stroke, you were coming undone over his cock. MacCready wasn’t too far behind you as his his stuttered against yours. 

His release painted your walls and dripped down your thighs as he slowly pulled out of you with a shuddering breath. He rubbed a soothing hand over your hip as you came down from your high. 

“That’s not how I pictured tonight going,” he chuckled nervously as he helped you get situated. 

You laughed, straightening your blouse. “Really? Because that’s exactly how I pictured tonight going.” 

With that, you took him by the hand and led him out of the alley. MacCready’s ears turned red as he let you tug him toward Hotel Rexford. The night was still young, after all. 

[elvishdemigod]

It's both messed up and funny that the final flirt option with MacCready basically goes:

"My wife died horribly-"

"So, you're single then?"

I love romancing him, but cheezit on a pretzel stick! Time and place, man!

[gageisahomeboi]

Finally maxed out afinity with maccready and deacon is over here casually eavesdropping on our heartfelt conversation.

[lacontroller1991]

Fluff/WhumpTOBER Day 17: RJ MacCready x F!Sole

Day 17: Only One Bed/No Where Else To Go Masterlist Warnings: 18+, Major Character Death, PTSD, Graphic Depictions of Gore, Forced to Relive Trauma, poor Mac can't get a break, language, blood, guts Word Count: 1.9k Author's Note: I really hope this one does well because I loved writing it and I hope you guys enjoy! This was a result of a poll I took back in September.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been running for. His heart pounds loudly in his ears as his feet slam on the pavement, lungs straining for a breath of air. But he can’t stop. He can’t stop running. Not when there are two deathclaws on his tail and a looming radstorm above. He needs to get somewhere safe, and fast.

“Mac! Over here!” He manages to hear your voice shout out against the echoing thunder. Spotting your frame going into a building, he takes a hard right onto the grass, begging his legs to just push him a little further until he can get somewhere where deathclaws can’t go. Though, he supposes that they can go into a building, or rather, crash into a building, but now is really not the time to be thinking of that when one swings out to him, tearing the tail end of his duster more than it already is.

Bursting through the doors, he slams them shut, shoving a nearby couch against the door just in time for the door to shake from the strength of a deathclaw slamming into it. “(Y/N)?” He calls out to you, pulling some bullets from his pockets and reloading the camber of his rifle, keeping it pointed toward the door. “(Y/N)?” She did go in here, right? MacCready takes another step back before the floor gives out underneath him, causing him to fall through the trapdoor and down a dark, cold slide. Shit, shit, shit, shit. 

The slide spits him out onto damp concrete, his butt sore from landing on it as he tries to get his bearings. “Well, about time you joined me.”

“What?”

“Mac, get up,” he feels your hands wrap around his bicep, hoisting him up as his awareness starts coming to him, the groaning of ghouls echoing around them. Oh no. Shaking his head, he takes a quick look at you and hates the look of fear that he instantly spots in your eyes. “Mac, we’re fucked.” Tilting his head, he takes a few steps forward, the grasp on his arm tightening. At the end of the platform is a steep drop off, and below them, hundreds of ghouls. His heart stops.

Visions of a metro station flooding his field of view as the noise of the ghouls amplify. This can’t be happening again. “Mac, come back to me.” Your voice snaps him out of his trance as his heart thumps against his ribcage, his vision tunneling. 

“Lucy?”

“No, it’s (Y/N). We need to get out of here.” He watches as you look around, trying to find an escape, only for a sob to wreck through your body when you find one, in a sea of ghouls. 

“There’s gotta be another way out,” it’s a foolish sense of hope, but he can’t, won’t, let this happen again. Climbing into the slide, he tries to wiggle his way up the dark tube only to slip back down. “It’s too steep to climb.”

“I know, I already tried it. What are we going to do?” This is the second time in his life where his smart mouth has nothing to say. Not answering you, MacCready peers back over the edge, trying to count how many ghouls there are, only to not like the number. 

“We don’t have enough bullets to take them.” The ghouls below them stretch their arms out, trying to reach for the two of them, but with no success. Turning to you, he strides over, taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips against yours, pouring all of his love out to you. He’s never kissed you like that before. “I’m sorry I got us into this mess again, Lucy.” He feels you pull away from him, tears of betrayal in your eyes.

“Robert, it’s me. (Y/N).” His blue eyes blink slowly and you can tell that he’s not here with you. He’s back in DC with Lucy and Duncan. A sharp slap lands across his face, cheek stinging as his head shakes, eyes blinking in confusion.

“(Y/N)? What happened?” He looks around, confusion and fear written on his face. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know. I just know that there’s at least a hundred ghouls beneath us and you can’t focus. I’m not saying that I’m blaming you, but Mac, I need you to concentrate. I need you here, with me.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Do you have any more grenades? Maybe we can try to clear some of them out and hightail it toward that exit.”

“I have one, the rest were used trying to get those deathclaws off our tails.” Mac thinks for a moment before taking the grenade in his hands, vomit threatening to rise in his throat. He knows what he has to do, what he should’ve done all those years ago. He should’ve sacrificed himself for Lucy and Duncan. Lucy should be alive and well, watching over their son. And he’d be damned if he’s not going to take the fall this time. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out whatever ammo he has left and hands it to you, tears welling in his eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What I should’ve done years ago. I’m not going to let another person I care about take the fall while I get out. I’ll throw the grenade toward the exit, hopefully it’ll clear out the ghouls blocking the door and while you escape I’ll keep their attention.”

“What the fuck? No, MacCready. I throw the grenade and cause a distraction and you get out of here,” he watches as you pull the katana from its holster on your back. “I’ll try to cut down as many as I can while you get out of here.”

“No way in hell.”

“Shut up, Mac. You have Duncan you need to take care of. Duncan needs his dad. He doesn’t need me.” You take the grenade from his hand but his grip on it tightens, lips turning down into a frown. 

“No. I can’t let you take the fall for me. I need to be the one to do this. I should’ve been the one who died, not Lucy. Just like now, I should be the one who dies, not you. I’ve only done bad in this world, you’re trying to change it for the better. I trust that you’ll take care of Duncan for me.” He takes a step toward the ledge but you pull him back, wrapping your arms around his body and pressing your lips against his, the salt from your tears mixing in with your combined saliva. “I love you, (Y/N). I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” with your weight, you manage to drop your body down and sweep his leg out from underneath him, causing him to fall on his back as you replace the grenade in his hands with his bullets.

“I love you, Robert MacCready, don’t forget me.” He watches in horror, scrambling to his feet to try and hold you back but again, he’s too slow.

Your body disappears from view as an explosion on the opposite end of the room goes off, but the thump of your body is all that he hears as he crawls to the edge. Somehow, you had managed to slide down the cliff and only cut your leg open, drawing the attention of the ghouls. The sound of their gargling and your sword slicing through the bodies rings in his ears. “FUCKING RUN ROBERT!”

The path toward the door starts thinning out as you draw the ghouls toward you. For a minute he sees his Lucy, eyes wide with fear, trying her hardest to put on a brave face for MacCready and Duncan, but he sees through it. Run, Bobby! Take Duncan and run! Lucy wouldn’t want him dying like she did. Lucy wouldn’t want Duncan to grow up without either of his parents. Gripping onto the stock of his rifle, he pushes himself onto his feet, before jumping over the edge and sliding down the platform, hitting the solid floor beneath him with a resounding crack against the back of his head. Reaching up to rub his head, his fingers come in contact with warm fluid, but it’s too dark to see what it is. He knows what it is. Fuck. 

In a daze, he manages to get up before a ghoul could land on him. Running toward the exit, the gun in his hands feels like the weight of Duncan when he was a baby. How did this happen again? A loud scream halts him in run, fear racing down to his very core.

“RUN ROBERT! RU-” the words fall short as a sickening crunch reverberates in his ears, the sound of your body spurting blood causes his stomach to do somersaults as he’s brought back to the metro station. Your screams of terror and fear meld into Lucy’s screams before ending with sounds of body parts splattering against the cold tile. Tears fall down his face as he wills his legs to push him forward. 

I’ve failed them. Both of them. He uses his gun to shoot the brains out of the nearest ghoul, jumping over the fallen body as he breaks for the exit. Almost there, almost there. 

Run, Bobby, take care of our son.

Don’t look back, Mac, get out of here.

The voices in his brain repeat as his lungs struggle for air. We love you, Robert.

==========

MacCready shoots out of the bed with a scream, chest heaving as he gulps in air. His body drips with sweat as his heart threatens to lurch out of his chest.  It’s been months since the event, and he hasn’t been able to sleep since. Not even with Duncan in his arms.

“Bobby?” A gravelly voice accompanies him, soft arms wrapping around his torso as a face presses into his back. “Another?”

“Yeah,” MacCready chokes, not daring to look down at your arm where multiple bite mark scars litter your supple flesh. “It’s like everytime I try to sleep, I just see us, back there. I just see you and Lucy dying each time.” He can feel your frown against his bare back before lips press softly against the skin. 

The truth of the matter is that you didn’t die. You’re a lot more handy with a katana than either of you had thought and you had made it through the horde of ghouls with only several tears at your skin. He counts it off as sheer luck, silently thanking whatever might be out there while you had played it off as watching one too many episodes of a tv show back in your day. “Bobby, we should really see Curie about this, I know PTSD has different forms and such, but maybe she has something to help you.” He knows that you’re probably right, given that you’ve had to go through this with your late spouse, but still, you had almost died, just like Lucy, and he was powerless to prevent it.

“Let’s try to go back to sleep, baby.” You manage to coax him to lay down, his body adjusting so that his head rests against your chest, your heart beating strong and steady in comparison with his own. MacCready doesn't do much but the moment you fall back into a slumber, he’s holding onto you just a little bit tighter.

-fin-

@unrepentantweirdo

[wassertoffatom]

<___< How...How about Prompt 18 "I dont want a baby" With the Rat man <___<?

Disrupted Legacy (RJ MacCready x F!Sole)

Main Master List || Prompt Master List

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the request! Sorry this took so long to get out but I hope you enjoy!!!

Warnings: 18+, TALKS OF INFERTILITY (ENDOMETRIOSIS), talk about fertility treatments, language, Mac gets a little upset, a hint at sexual content

Word Count: 1k

==========

You knew it was inevitable. You knew that one day MacCready would want to try for kids to give Duncan a sibling. And you thought that by beating around the bush that he would give up. In hindsight, you should’ve known that the most stubborn man in the wasteland wouldn’t give up.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Piper asks from beside you, legs stretching out by the fire. In an attempt to escape MacCready’s persistent hints and nudges, you’ve taken up bouncing between settlement help and delivering care packages to displaced synths while Mac stays at home, tending to the crops and watching Duncan.

Sighing, you pull your jacket in tighter. “He wants a baby.” 

Only a handful of people know. Nick knows because he’s highly perceptive. Deacon knows because he’s nosey and “totally wasn’t eavesdropping.” And now Piper, who seems stunned at the revelation.

“And? How do you feel about that?” Despite Piper making her whole living off of exposing stories, you know she wouldn’t tell a soul if you told her something in confidence. Still, do you want to admit what you’ve been neglecting to say? Seeming to notice your resistance to answer the question, Piper backs off. “Well, whatever you feel, MacCready should know if he doesn’t already. I know he’s a pain in most people’s ass, but everyone can tell that he loves you. He’ll understand.”

Would he though? Would he accept your reasoning or would it blow up in your face? Lying down in your sleeping bag, you turn away from her, tears welling in your eyes. “Night, Piper.”

“Night Blue.”

As Sanctuary comes into view, the more the knot in your stomach grows. You know that you’ll see MacCready almost instantly. You know that he’ll drag you off for some “personal time” and ask about trying for a kid, but you also know that it’ll just end in tension.

Swallowing down bile in your throat, you walk over the bridge, old wood creaking with each step. “(Y/N)!” Before you have the chance to set down your weapons, Duncan is launching himself into your arms.

Holding him close, you swing him around as giggles erupt from his small body, gaining the attention of a certain sniper. “Hello Duncan.”

“Where have you been? Me and daddy missed you,” the child pouts as you set him down, aware of MacCready making his way toward you. Looking down at Duncan, you smile at the way he frowns, very much like his dad.

“There you are. I was worried you forgot about me,” Mac pulls you into his arms as you wrap your own around his body, inhaling in his scent feeling safe and loved. Tell him.

“I would never forget you,” pulling away, you reach up and comb his wild hair with your hand. “We need to talk.”

A brief look of panic crosses his features but he nods regardless, taking your hand in his before looking down at his son. “Can you go play for a little, buddy? (Y/N) and I need to talk in private.” “Okie dokie!” Duncan runs off toward the other children while you and Mac move toward your house.

As the door clicks shut you’re dumping your supplies onto the floor before crashing onto the couch, MacCready joining you and patiently waiting for you to talk. Here goes nothing. “I don’t want a baby.”

The bomb creates a palpable tension and you don’t look at him, afraid of what you’ll see. “Why?” It’s a simple question and oddly leveled, causing you to look up. To your shock, he doesn’t seem mad. He doesn’t seem… anything.

“Mac?”

“Why don’t you want a baby? Do you not want a baby at all or just don’t want a baby with me?” His voice raises and stands abruptly, fists balling at his side while his jaw clenches. Ah, there’s the anger. “I’ve been asking for months. Why not just tell me then? Why would you let me continue to ask if you already made up your mind?”

Your eyes follow him as he paces in front of you, not sparing you a glance. “It’s complicated.” He pauses in his movement, blue eyes dilated with hurt and anger.

“Complicated? I thought we were a team. I thought we could trust each other?”

Guiding him to sit down, your hands squeeze his. “We can trust each other.”

Tears of frustration swell in his eyes as he bats them away. “Then what is so complicated?”

Might as well just tell him. “I can’t have children.”

Confusion crosses his eyes as his eyebrows scrunch together. “But you had Shaun.”

“I did, but I had to use a lot of drugs for the slightest chance of conceiving. Nate and I initially thought that maybe it was his sperm that wasn’t functional but after we did some tests we found out that I have something called endometriosis. The treatments helped with a chance of conceiving but it was never guaranteed. Shaun was a miracle,” tears well in your eyes as your thoughts linger on your dead son. The son that you tried so hard for. Your thoughts are interrupted by Mac pulling you onto his lap, pressing a tender kiss to your head as the floodgates open. Tears flow out as you clutch onto Mac while he rubs your back in comfort. “I’m sorry, RJ. I can’t give you what I want.”

Mac isn’t sure what to think of everything but he knows that you need him to just be there for you. Rocking you in his grasp, he continues to pepper kisses on your head, occasionally shushing you as he rubs your back. “It’s okay, (Y/n), it’s okay.”

As you calm down, you pull away, looking into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Bobby. If I had known that you would want children inevitably, I wouldn’t have pursued this,” you motion between the two of you as he chuckles, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“(Y/N), if I wanted you just for babies I would’ve been asking from the get go. I mean I’m bummed out, but I still love you regardless.”

Your eyes blink away tears that his thumb catches. “You mean it?”

“Of course I do. Now how about we go and catch up?” He wiggles his eyebrows as you giggle.

“Nothing sounds better.”

-fin-

[shinox]

250 caps ~

[druidgroves]

what's she whisperin in his ear? we may never know. but it's definitely getting the desired reaction.

big thank to the amazing @janearts for this commission of my two fallout faves, maccready & georgia <3 pls check out jane's comms if you get the chance !!

[ghoul-foolery]

Dirty Windows | 24

Hancock x Nora - A Fallout 4 Soulmate AU

//

Fic Summary:

Hancock never thought he would find his soulmate. Once a common occurrence, soulmates turned into a bit of a rarity after the bombs dropped. It was to be expected when there was an influx of people getting shot in the face on a daily basis. So when Hancock discovered that he had a soulmate he was ecstatic; all of the people in the Commonwealth, and he was one of the lucky few.

Too bad his soulmate didn't want anything to do with him.

//

[ 1 ] <- [ 19 ] [ 20 ] [ 21 ] [ 22 ] [ 23 ]

//

Two weeks had come and gone since Nora had taken up residence at the Slog, and she was sure that if she ever had it her way she’d never leave. The people were so willing to accept her into their social circles, and that in itself was borderline mind blowing. Striking up conversation with the Sanctuary crew felt so stilted, so forced. Perhaps it was because the expectations for her in Sanctuary were so high. The ghouls in the Slog didn’t expect anything out of her, but they were more than willing to teach valuable post-war life skills and Nora was an incredibly eager student. In the midst of it all, under Arlen’s gentle guidance, Nora was learning how to build a water purifier. 

All it took was a passing complaint about Sanctuary and the water purifier debacle; about how they seemed to assume she just had that sort of mechanical knowledge, or would be able to magically procure one. It was just some idle venting as she visited with the older ghoul in his workshop; nothing more, nothing less. Arlen had hummed thoughtfully, then promptly guided her out of his workshop, telling Nora to go offer Jones and Holly some help in the garden. It was a couple hours later, as she was chopping tatos for dinner, when Arlen emerged from his workshop. He called her name, and once she reached him, he passed her a slip of ancient notebook paper. It was a schematic, a blueprint. In clean writing off to the side, he listed the required components, and what sort of machinery she could dig around to find them. 

“If you want to get the parts, we can work on it together,” he had told her. His gentle smile was so fatherly, so caring. Nora couldn’t help it, she pulled the man into a tight hug. 

It felt as if Nora had cashed in every ounce of good karma she had saved up. No one in the Slog would accept any compensation for their time, and tutelage. No one would accept caps as a thanks. It didn’t feel like it was nearly enough, but all they would take from her was her gratitude and on some days they made that seem as if it were too much. Or, Holly would just get a little fed up with all the thank yous, and would tell Nora to stop saying it…

Though Nora still experienced moments of extreme guilt when she realized how little progress she had made when it came to finding her boy, it was quickly quelled when she reminded herself that she didn’t know how to survive on her own. If she managed to find Shaun, she wouldn’t know how to take care of him, she barely knew how to take care of herself. Nora didn’t want to be the reason why her son fell ill, or went hungry. So she learned what plants were acceptable to eat. She learned how to harvest vegetables, and razor grain. She learned how they stored their meat, and how to keep it properly preserved. And with Arlen Glass’ help, she would learn how to create a source of clean drinking water. Baby steps were still steps.

After accepting the blueprint from Arlen, Nora finally ventured away from the Slog to hunt down the supplies that she needed to build the water purifier. Every morning, after helping with breakfast, Nora would set out to scrounge up whatever scraps and machinery that she could. She siphoned gasoline, she hoarded fan belts, screws, and bolts. She would haul bags of gear back to the Slog, depositing them on Arlen’s workbench before setting out again. In the evenings, after she got back, Nora would help with dinner and then take a shift at evening watch. In the midst of it all, as she worked, as she traveled, her and John got to know each other.

They would go through daily idle chatter (”How was your day, dear?”), then continue on with any number of things. They covered a vast spectrum of topics, from favorite colors and foods, to more philosophical things. John divulged childhood memories, and awkward teenage experiences, and Nora would follow suit. As the days went on, Nora found herself becoming incredibly fond of the man. He was charismatic, and he was a whole lot smarter than he gave himself credit for. He was loyal to the people he considered his, and as loyal as he was he was even more protective. Nate would have loved him. The more Nora got to know John Hancock of Goodneighbor, the more certain she was that Nate and John would have been fast friends. They were both stubborn and loyal to a fault. They were both strong, and capable men, and even though she had only known John for a short while, she knew without a doubt that both men would bend over backwards to make her happy. John had helped her with so many things. She owed him so much. 

Bit by bit, she gathered the things on Arlen’s list and, after days of meticulous searching, she had everything that they needed. She stopped her daily wandering, and took up a spot in Arlen’s workshop where, together, they started constructing the water purifier. 

“Sounds like all he wants from you is a chance,” Arlen said, passing her a pair of needle nose pliers. “When you’re ready, I think you should give that to him.”

Arlen Glass had become her best friend, her confidant. After giving her tea on her first night he had somehow become a post-apocalypse father figure. His guidance helped Nora rediscover her confidence.

“Nate would want me to be happy, but – Ouch!” she recoiled, eyeballing a small bleeding cut on her finger. Nora leaned in close to the chassis of the under-construction water purifier. She nearly stuck her head inside as she searched for what had done the damage. “But I’m… afraid, I guess?”

“Afraid of being happy, when you think you shouldn’t be allowed to?”

Nora’s eyes shot to Arlen’s in surprise. Arlen was usually a little more gentle with his advice. He would pass her the seeds, but he would let her plant and sow things on her own. He wasn’t typically so blunt, but having heard Arlen’s story, she understood where he was coming from. He’d had a family, a beautiful one; but he had sacrificed happiness for work, and then he lost everything.

“Well when you say it like that, it sounds dumb,” she grumbled almost petulantly. She turned her attention back to their project.

Arlen chuckled in that airy way of his as he said, “You smile when you talk about Nate and John, you know. I don’t know if you’ve noticed.

Nora’s gaze tore away from her project yet again. Arlen had settled back in the old chair in his workshop. It was his typical sitting place whenever he read his morning paper. Instead of reclining back in the chair he was leaning forward, knees on his elbows, with a small, knowing smile. 

“You’re a smart woman, Eleanor. You should know that you wouldn’t be betraying Nathan by finding happiness again. If he was anything like you’ve said, he would want you safe, and happy. He’d want you to love and be loved.”

There was a sudden tightness in Nora’s throat. She did her best to swallow it down, and turn her attention back to the purifier but Arlen was suddenly at her side, cupping her face in his hands. They were hearty, weathered and overly textured, but they were also warm and grounding. 

“It’s okay for you to be happy, Eleanor,” he said it slowly, deliberately. “It’s okay.”

Nora’s hands rested over Arlen’s as she warbled, dangerously close to crying, “What if I fall in love with him and—“

“Honey, I think you might have already. Even if only a little bit.” The statement was like a kick to the gut, delivered with a smile. It knocked Nora’s world off its axis. Arlen continued, “If there is anything that can be learned from loss, it’s that you need to love the people in your life as strongly, and as fiercely as you can, because we never know when those special people will be taken away. Just remember, he will never replace Nate. You have a big heart, Eleanor. There is space for John in there, too.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice tight. That’s all she said because that’s all she could muster. 

“I’m not saying that you need to hurry up and stop mourning; and I’m not saying that you need to hurry up and fall in love.” The old ghoul placed a kiss to the crown of her head before leveling his eyes with hers. “But you need to know that it’s okay when you do. Grief doesn’t have an expiration date. If you wait for it to go away naturally, you’ll be waiting for forever and a day.”

“So it never goes away? It’s… This? Forever?” The guilt for growing fond of another man, the feeling of replacing someone she loved, the lingering dredges of hurt that hung around in her chest.

Arlen withdrew, turning his eyes to the in-progress water purifier, and then the pieces of an old Giddyup Buttercup. “They say that time heals all wounds, but it doesn’t. It just makes it easier to deal with.”

“Hey, smoothskin!” It was Wiseman’s voice, calling her from the front of the pool house.

Nora closed her eyes, swallowing at the lump in her throat, “Yeah?” She called out as Arlen picked up the needle nose pliers, and took over the task at hand.

“You got a visitor!”

The frown that had been marring Nora’s features deepened. Damn near every single person she knew who would want to visit her already lived in the Slog. Unless it was Preston for some reason. Or John. She was too aware of the way her heart leapt. Slowly, she peaked out of one of the broken windows to get eyes on the visitor. From a glance, it wasn’t anyone that she recognized from Sanctuary, and it most definitely wasn’t John. Nora’s hand immediately began to drift down to the pistol holstered at her thigh. 

“Go on,” Arlen said. “I’ll finish up this bit, and we can pick it up later.”

“Arlen?” 

“Mm?” He hummed, haltingly. 

She placed a hand on his forearm, leaning in to kiss the older man’s cheek. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

He tossed his head and said again, “Go on.”

With no small amount of hesitance, she left Arlen’s shop, stepping out into the early evening air. It had been a warm day, enough so that Nora had unzipped the top half of her vault suit in favor of adorning an oversized t-shirt. The arms of the suit were tied securely around her waist, and her hair was tied back into a ponytail. Her hands were greasy, scraped, and she could make out the dark smear of oil across her nose. She wasn’t really dressed for company, but she supposed that she never would be. 

Stepping around the building, Nora cleared her throat. The newcomer turned to face her. A smoothskin, like her. He wore an old conductor styled hat, a long coat, and he had a rifle hanging off his shoulder from a makeshift sling that looked to be fastened from an old belt. As she grew closer, she noted that he was handsome. Cheekbones that she could cut herself on, a proud, straight nose. Tanned, blue eyes, and a confident smile. 

“Well,” he said at length, “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Nora held her distance, fishing an old rag from her pocket so she could start cleaning her hands. The tenuous grasp on her emotions turned steely as she stared the stranger down. No one would know that she had been on the brink of crying (ugh, again) thirty seconds ago. She eyed him warily, “Do I know you?”

His smile grew, “No. But I know you.”

The man’s eyes followed her hand as it dropped down to her side, resting casually by her pistol. Off to the side, she could see Wiseman tense and reach for her own weapon. 

Suddenly, the man laughed, “Calm down, girl! Shi-oot, I’m a friendly.” He’d almost said ‘shit’ but he had redirected. She didn’t know why, but that seemed important. She’d stow that away for later.

“You’ll have to forgive me, but I don’t believe you.”

“Why don’t you, uh…” his index finger tapped his temple. 

At this point, the Slog ghouls knew that Nora had a soulmate. It was hard to keep things secret when the space was so open, and communal. Especially when they noticed just how much she seemed to talk to herself. She couldn’t find the ability to look any of them in the eye and just insist that she was a touch crazy.

Without breaking eye contact with the stranger, Nora opened her end of the bond and reached. “John?”

The answer was immediate, ”What’s crackin’, doll fa – shit, is that MacCready? Fuck, he works fast…”

“You know him?” she asked, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath. Wiseman waved his hand, catching her attention. He made a gesture, indicating that he was going to be inside. She nodded, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’.

”Yeah, I know him. He’s out that way runnin’ an errand or two for me. I didn’t expect for him to get to you for another week or so.”

“Wh-why didn’t you tell me that he was coming? I… God, I was getting freaked out.” It could have been another one of those sickos from the drive-in. It could have been someone much, more worse.

“Easy, angel,” the man known as MacCready drawled. “I told you, I’m a friendly.”

”Don’t you call her that, you little shit.”

Nora snorted, then immediately covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. She wanted to be irritated, dang it. The second he had made arrangements for someone to come meet her, she should have known about it. She composed herself, dropping her hand. “He said your name was MacCready?”

“Yep! RJ MacCready, and you must be Nora,” he held out his hand, and Nora reached to shake it. Only for her hand to be lifted, she watched with almost wide eyes as he pursed his thin lips to plant a kiss to her skin. 

”Goddammit, MacCready!”

MacCready stopped, a mere centimeter from making contact, and then he snickered, giving her hand a firm shake. He was laughing, eyes glittering with his amusement. He seemed to be banking on John seeing the interaction, and had been aiming to irritate Nora’s soulmate for fun.

”Tell that little fucker that he ain’t gettin’ paid for shit!”

It didn’t matter how much she wanted to be angry, she couldn’t even manage a bit of irritation to shoot in John’s direction. 

“He mad?” MacCready asked, his smile stretched from ear-to-ear..

Maybe it was the total relief that she felt, but Nora couldn’t help but laugh as she replied, “He seems to be a little annoyed, yeah.”

“Awesome.”

\\

Tag List: @takottai / @a-little-pebbl  / @yamatra

[vaultscavver]

sole: would you still love me if my short-sighted quest for revenge consumed me? if i abandoned my ideals for the corrupt powers i once sought to destroy? if i became the very monster who i swore i would save you from?

hancock: this is the worst pillow talk ever—

maccready, tenderly: i’d kill you myself