#y john hancock

[gogogodzilla]

day 19, 69ing

john hancock x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, drug use, sex while high, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, hancock calls reader sunshine kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

To Hancock, getting high was second nature. He was always popping one chem or another on your travels. You didn’t mind. Whatever he had to do to get through the day.

You ventured through the gritty streets of Goodneighbor, looking for your friend. You had a surprise for him, after all. The raucous sounds of the Third Rail on a Saturday night graced your ears, and you found yourself being pulled there. 

You nodded to the security guard and descended the steps. Smooth jazz and the low murmur of voices greeted you as you entered the bar. A grin fought itself onto your features as you spotted, through the cigarette smoke and lively conversations of the patrons, your favorite Mayor seated at the bar, talking to Whitechapel Charlie. 

You sidled up next to him, leaning on the bar, nodding to Charlie as you sat. “Room for one more?” 

“Look who decided to finally show up,” Hancock drawled, pushing his tricorn hat back to let his eyes rake over your form.

“The super mutants trying to kill me didn’t seem to care that I had a date tonight,” you retorted, chuckling a little at your joke. 

You and Hancock weren’t exactly together, but you couldn’t deny that you felt strongly toward him. The lingering glances and semi-sexual remarks while you were traveling were enough of an indication that Hancock liked you too. 

The usual grin on his face widened at your reply. He rubbed his chin, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Date, huh?” 

You leaned into his space, emboldened by his gaze on yours. “Yeah, although it’s a little crowded in here,” you titled your head, glancing around the room and its various patrons. 

“Why don’t you and me get outta here, sunshine?” Hancock suggested as he slid from his stool and offered you an arm. 

You stood and took his arm, “Thought you’d never ask, mayor.” 

You were giddy as you made the short walk to the Old State House. While on your adventures out in the Commonwealth, you’d found a bottle of Day Tripper. It was popular back in your day for those attempting to escape the troubles of their everyday life, and you didn’t think that Hancock had ever tried it before. 

Fahrenheit nodded to both of you as you entered the old building from her usual place at the bottom of the spiral staircase. Her gaze danced between the two of you for a moment before Hancock led you up the stairs. 

You sauntered toward one of the couches in the middle of the room, and Hancock shut the double doors to his room behind him. Your heart rate picked up at the telltale sound of the lock clicking. You took your seat and patted the cushion next to you. 

He sat next to you, eyes dancing across your features. “There’s another reason why I was late,” you mentioned as he reclined and threw an arm over the couch. 

He hummed, turning his head to look at you. You rifled through your bag before your hands wrapped around the blue-green bottle. You pulled it out and handed it to him. 

He took it from you and raised an eyebrow as he read the label. It was white and covered with flowers. From what you’d heard about the effects, you assumed that the label was supposed to reflect how you felt while you were on it. 

“Where’d you find this?” 

“West Roxbury Station, out by University Point. I wasn’t lying about the super mutants trying to kill me,” you laughed, giving him a half-shrug. 

His mouth curved into a smile, “You’re somethin’ else, sunshine.” 

You inched closer toward him, your heart fluttering in your chest. “I thought we could try it together,” you divulged, biting the inside of your cheek. 

His grin grew wider, “Didn’t take you for the partying type.” 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you replied, coyly. 

Hancock kept his eyes on yours as he undid the orange top of the bottle and shook out two small pills into one of his hands. 

He picked up one pill, “Open up, sunshine,” he ordered, smirking. 

Your breathing hitched before you opened your mouth for him, allowing your tongue to stick out over your bottom lip. Hancock held out the pill for you pinched between his thumb and pointer finger. You met his gaze as you leaned forward and you wrapped your lips around his fingers. His thumb escaped your lips to cradle your chin and his pointer finger stayed trapped within the wet confines of your mouth. 

You were a little surprised at the boldness of your actions, but the thought was quickly replaced by much more obscene ones as you swallowed around Hancock’s finger and a soft growl escaped him. 

He retracted his hand and popped the remaining pill into his mouth. He reclined against the red cushions of the couch, waiting for the effects to kick in. Slowly, the world around you began to transform. Color intensified and became more vivid, time seemed to slow, and the air around you hummed with energy. 

Hancock chuckled as you looked around the room, “Welcome to my world. Ain’t it a trip?” 

A laugh bubbled in your throat, and your eyes met for just a moment. Warmness spread throughout your body like the heat from the good whiskey Charlie served on special occasions. Hancock’s eyes were half-closed and the corners of his mouth were turned up in a lazy grin. 

You watched as he slowly sat up and tugged off his coat, also feeling the warmth that felt like it was humming under your skin. His shirt shone like a beacon in the light of the nearby lantern in your drug-induced vision. It was like your limbs were moving on their own as they reached out and stroked the fabric on his bicep. 

His breathing hitched in his throat as your fingers trailed up and over his shoulder to the bare skin of his neck. Something inside you ignited as soon as your fingertips dragged over the column of his throat, and it felt like your entire being was being drawn toward him. 

You crawled toward him, settling yourself on his lap as you cradled his face in your hands. He chuckled as he gripped your thighs, keeping you still. 

“I… need to touch you,” you murmured as you leaned forward and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. It wasn’t enough. 

You moved your face upward, eyebrows furrowed. “Need to taste you,” you practically begged as your lips ghosted against his. 

He leaned forward, and your lips collided. Your movements were clumsy, the drug making your muscles uncooperative. Your senses were heightened, and you could taste a hint of the liquor Hancock had earlier on his tongue. You groaned against his lips, which were rough and marred against your own. You wondered if other parts of him tasted this good. 

You pulled away and a small string of saliva connected the two of you. You moved to press sloppy kisses along the column of his throat, letting your tongue drag over the skin there. Hancock’s hands wandered over your body, squeezing and kneading wherever you could. He probably would’ve ripped your vault suit off of you if his limbs were working properly. 

“Wanna taste you, sunshine,” he rasped out as he grabbed your hips and ground them against his hardened length. You whined at the sensation as arousal coursed through your veins. 

“Lay back,” you ordered, shoving his shoulder lightly. Hancock followed your orders as you stood on shaky legs. You slowly peeled off your vault suit, thankful for the zipper, and Hancock palmed himself as he watched you through lidded eyes. 

You tugged your underwear down and kicked them to the side. You were practically drooling at the sight of Hancock before you. His shirt was open, exposing his scarred chest to you. He had unbuttoned his pants and freed his cock from its confines. He slowly stroked himself as you neared. 

In your drug-induced haze, an idea struck you. You straddled Hancock’s face so you could easily lean down and take his cock in your mouth. You could both taste each other that way. 

His hands moved to grip your thighs as you hovered over him. His breath fanned against your core and you shuddered, rocking your hips slightly. 

“All for me,” Hancock breathed against you, a hint of astonishment in his voice. 

You nodded as you reached down and began to slowly stroke him. “Only for you,” you slurred, tongue heavy in your mouth. You were already drunk on the feeling of him. 

Your grip around his cock tightened as he took you in his mouth. Your thighs squeezed around him as he devoured you, swiping his tongue through your folds before moving to circle your clit. 

He bucked his hips, reminding you that you had a job to do. You pumped your hand slowly before swiping your thumb over the tip of his cock, gathering the precum dripping from there. 

Hancock groaned against your core as you stroked him, sending vibrations through your body. You rutted your hips against his face, chasing your high. 

Hancock dipped his tongue into your entrance, and you leaned forward, moaning. You swirled your tongue around his red-hued tip, and your eyes practically rolled in the back of your head from the taste of him. 

Hancock’s grip tightened on your thighs as he brought you even closer. Moans escaped him as you slowly bobbed your head and clenched around nothing. 

You hollowed your cheeks around him, taking him even deeper than before. Your movements became sloppy as you neared the precipice. Hancock’s mouth wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced before, and coupled with the finger he slid inside you, your release was rapidly approaching. 

He quickly added another finger and pumped them inside you while he sucked on your clit. You moaned around his cock before relaxing your jaw to take all of him. 

Hancock’s tongue circled your clit once and then twice, and then you were coming undone above him. Pleasure wracked through your entire body in waves, and your thighs began to shake. Hancock continued his efforts, allowing you to ride out your high. 

He tensed under you before coming with a strangled groan. You pulled away and watched as white tendrils coated your hand. You continued to stroke him until pleasure veered into overstimulation and he tapped your thigh. 

You slowly slid off of him, both coming down from the high of your orgasm and the high from the drug. You giggled a little as you took his sash and cleaned him off. You didn’t expect your plan to work this well. 

“I’m glad we did that,” you whispered as you lay on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. 

Hancock chuckled, “I should party with you more often.”

[dorkofclanlavellan]

Obsessive Cleaning (FO4 Preference)

Fandom: Fallout 4 Request: x x Pairings: Danse x Reader, Hancock x Reader, MacCready x Reader, Nick x Reader, Preston x Reader.

Notes:

I included Nick because he should be romanceable.

Idk if manic cleaning is the correct term for this so I didn't use it because I didn't want to be offensive.

Zero uses of Y/N or Sole so you can decide if Reader is Sole or not.

Trigger Warning: Reader obsessively cleaning and neglecting their own needs.

Danse:

Danse wakes up to an empty bed and immediately heads out to find you. He discovers you engrossed in your task of cleaning and making repairs to Sanctuary, impressed by your attention to detail.

He joins in to help, using his military training to streamline the process and increase efficiency.

Danse appreciates your dedication to improving your surroundings and sees it as a reflection of your strong work ethic.

After a bit when he notices that you're showing no signs of slowing or even taking a a break, that's when Danse would intervene. He'd make sure you're okay and encourage you to at least stop long enough for food and water.

"Alright, soldier, you're no good to anyone passed out from hunger. Let's just sit over here and take a brief respite."

Hancock:

Hancock wakes up and immediately notices your absence. He follows the sounds of cleaning to find you fully immersed in your task, determined to make Sanctuary perfect.

He admires your dedication but worries that you're neglecting your own well-being.

Hancock encourages you to take breaks and assures you that Sanctuary already looks great.

He'd even join in once he realizes that you're probably not going to stop until you believe Sanctuary is as good as it's going to get. And he'd do his best to keep the mood light.

"Damn, sweetheart, you keep at it like this you'll make the rest of us look like a bunch of do-nothings. How about we take a quick...nap?"

MacCready:

When MacCready wakes to find you missing and sets out to locate you. He discovers you hard at work, fixing and cleaning various areas of Sanctuary with a determined expression.

He's impressed by your dedication but also concerned that you're pushing yourself too hard.

He offers to help and tries to convince you to take breaks, knowing how important it is to avoid burnout.

He admires your commitment to making Sanctuary a better place and supports you throughout the process, ensuring you take breaks and stay hydrated.

"Sweetie, you need rest...and breakfast. I promise this rubble will still be here in a couple of hours."

Nick Valentine:

Being a synth, Nick doesn't need sleep. He was, however, going over some information on a case he was working when he noticed faint noises. He decided to investigate and found you diligently working around Sanctuary.

He's intrigued by your hyperfocus and deduces that you won't stop until you're satisfied with the results.

Nick offers his assistance, impressed by the progress you've already made. You were cleaning up trash and rubble, recycling anything that could be repurposed.

He keeps an eye on your well-being, reminding you to take breaks as you work together to improve

"You're definitely impressive but unlike me you do need food and sleep. How about you take a break and while I finish up?"

Preston Garvey:

Preston wakes up in the middle of the night and notices your absence. Concerned, he sets out to find you and is surprised to discover you tirelessly cleaning and fixing things in Sanctuary.

He admires your dedication to helping others but worries that you're neglecting your own needs.

Preston offers to assist you and encourages you to take breaks and rest.

Preston appreciates your commitment to making Sanctuary a safe and comfortable place for everyone and supports you throughout the cleaning process.

"You know, you really are amazing. But even you need water to continue going, honey."

[hanckocks-dagger]

(In other words)

masterlist

John Hancock x gn!Reader

Description: While high on Hancock's couch, you get ready to tell him you're leaving Goodneighbor tomorrow. Trouble is, the thought of kissing him just keeps distracting you.

Tags: First kiss, getting together, Hancock is a simp. Reader could be viewed as SoSu or not. No pronouns used for reader, no use off y/n

Warnings: Recreational drug use (jet), smoking, canon typical swearing.

Cross posted on my ao3!

You were leaving Goodneighbor tomorrow. Sitting idle made you antsy, and it had already been several days since the urge to wander had struck. You'd only stuck around because... well.

"You want another hit?" Hancock asked from the other end of the couch, head lolling on the back of it, dark eyes turned to yours, canister of jet held out to you.

After a long moment of consideration, your jet-addled brain working overtime to comprehend, you shook your head mutely. Hancock shrugged his shoulder and stuck the canister into his mouth.

"Fhoot-eulf," He said incomprehensibly around the spout, then pressed down on the mechanism. His whole body sagged further into the couch, somehow managing to look even calmer than he had after the last three hits of Jet. Even if ghouls really did have higher chem resistance than lowly humans like yourself, you were sure Hancock topped them all. You'd had one Jet to his four, and he'd also spent the morning working his way through a Brandy bottle, which you'd always found made your heavy-limbed high feel a little more like paralysis than a comforting buzz.

Probably a good ten seconds after Hancock had spoken, you let out a muffled, "hmm?", cheek smushed into the couch so you could keep staring at him.

Those black eyes, momentarily distracted by the Jet in his hands, turned to find yours again, crinkled at the corners. His smile, ever charming, lingered on the verge of turning mean. He did like to tease you about being a lightweight.

Instead, he leant to the edge of the couch and hooked you by your socked feet, tugging them into his lap, dragging you a few inches closer to him.

"Nothing, sweetheart."

He patted one of your knees placatingly, the way one pet a startled a horse. Or (you thought, a few painfully slow seconds later), that was to say, the way one used to pet a startled horse. Seeing as they were extinct now, or possibly mutated into something hideously unrecognizable.

Hancock's hand, warm on your knee, disappeared after a minute. Or after a few seconds, seeing as trying to keep a grasp on time on Jet was a losing game. He dug into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Ever generous, he offered you one. You nodded, but could seem to make your hand rise up to take it from him.

He grinned, placing it between his lips. You wanted to disagree with this, but your vocal chords didn't want to respond either, and no words were coming to mind anyway. Sober, you would realize these were the classic signs of the Jet comedown, that momentary disconnect between body and mind, which unnerved you enough to take a few days off before finally succumbing to Hancock's next offer.

High, though, you were left to watch as Hancock raised the lighter to the cigarette, lighting it with a deep inhale, before plucking it from his mouth and passing it over. He blew the smoke teasingly into your face, laughing when you scrunched your nose in distaste.

"All the drugs a person could need. A warm bed, semi-clean streets." He said, a new cigarette between his teeth, "Honestly, I don't know why outsiders are always badmouthing Goodneighbor. Best fucking place in the Commonwealth."

Slowly, like an overloaded computer rebooting, your body came back online. You picked the cigarette from your lips, flicked ash from the end of it, ignored the thought of how it had been in his mouth before yours.

"You might be a bit biased, Hancock."

He laughed back at you, gravelly, that mix of ghoul and smoker and just pure... him.

He had been dropping these comments increasingly over the last few days, probably picking up at your unease. It was probably why he had suggested the two of you stay up in his office getting high for the night instead of going down to the Third Rail. Crowds made you antsy, the heat from bodies and the din of echoing small talk reminding you all the more of the open, fresh air you were missing.

Hancock was clever, he knew what was coming even without you spelling it out for him. Over the months since you'd discovered Goodneighbor, you'd been crashing in the Statehouse whenever you found your way to this area of Boston, preferring it to the stifling atmosphere of Diamond City. (Or so you told yourself, the truth might be you preferred the company).

He also clearly knew some of the affinity you held for him, the way you'd let him charm you into sticking around almost a week after you'd planned to leave.

"Still," He said, "One of the better places to be, hmm? Well, as long as you stay on the Mayor's good side." He winked at you.

Yet, he was too proud to come right out and beg for you to stay.

You could always ask him what he wanted. But you worried that his answer might be enough to sway you.

"Oh yeah," You deflected instead, ignoring the spark his wink shot down your spine, ordering your traitorous heart not to beat faster. "Heard the guy's a bit of a dick."

"Oh, he's a lot worse than that," His hand snuck back onto your leg, making a slow path up your calf, "But not to pretty things like you."

It was your turn to laugh, ignoring the heating in your cheeks, ignoring the goosebumps his touch left in it's wake. "John," You said, mock scandalized, "I thought you were an intellectual. Is a pretty face really all it takes?"

He had been slowly easing closer to you, or maybe he had been pulling you closer to him. When he leant over to stub his cigarette, his shoulder brushed yours.

"'M not easy. But I'm smart enough to know that when you find something this pretty in an ugly world, you hold on tight." He'd moved in close, hand reaching your upper thigh. With the other, he plucked the cigarette from your lips, down nearly to the filter, and flicked it to the side, not breaking eye contact. You could feel his breath tickling your nose, smelling like cigarettes and the slightly metallic taste jet left in your mouth. It made you lightheaded, entire mind screaming that he was about to kiss you, finally, after months of flirting and opportunities neither one of you had taken.

Instead, though, he squeezed your thigh and pulled back, eyes trained on you, a curious glint in them, like he was watching your reaction.

For just a moment, like you were a magnet following his pull, you followed after him, hand sliding downwards as if to bring his hand back to where it had been, keep it there, keep him there.

Then, the rational part of your brain, offline since before you'd accepted that hit of Jet, kicked in, screaming at you about everything that could go wrong. Taking this from a friendship to... something more would complicate everything. You didn't have the time or the energy to spend on a relationship, you didn't want to be chained to a settlement. If word got out about your... whatever it would be, you might lose out on deals with some of the seedier members of the community, you might lose trust with others. In other places, a relationship with a Ghoul might even be enough to have you barred from entry.

But, a traitorous voice from the back of your mind whispered, none of those really mattered. The truth of it was, after everything that had happened to you, if you were to let this go any further and something were to happen to him, it would break you.

So, you pulled back, shutting your eyes and taking a steadying breath. Your hand, halfway to grabbing his, stopped and balled into a fist, dropping back to your side.

You wracked your brain for something to say, something joking to diffuse the tension and return things to the way they were.

You heard Hancock shift besides you and allowed yourself a little breath of relief, assuming he'd gotten the hint and backed off, tired of waiting for someone who chickened out at every opportunity.

Instead, though, you were surprised to find his warm hand on your cheek, felt the corner of his hat press softly against your forehead. You opened your eyes, found him looking at you, almost desperate.

"Maybe I'm wrong," he started, voice pitched low and quiet, less sure of himself than you were used to, "In which case you just tell me. But I get the feeling it ain't that. I see the way you looked at me. I know you know how I've been looking at you."

You swallowed, traitorous body responding before your mind can butt in. You nodded, hand coming to grasp onto his bicep, wanting more than anything for him to move closer, to remove the patch of air the two of you were both breathing.

"So tell me," His voice had dropped to a whisper, like he was speaking with a startled animal. "Why won't you kiss me?"

You exhaled, a shaky thing. For some reason your eyes stung, and suddenly you were fighting off the urge to cry. Your grip on Hancock's arm tightened, not wanting him to let go.

Words escaped you, but you worried he'd take your silence the wrong way. You used your free hand to move the front of his hat high enough that it wouldn't poke you and leant your forehead to his. You shut your eyes again, partly to hide the tears that you couldn't seem to stop from forming, partly to embrace the moment better.

Hancock's thumb stroked slowly across your cheekbone. He whispered your name. Worried your voice would break, you nodded against him, eyes still squeezed shut, afraid of moving from this moment, of going forward or pulling back.

Quiet, he said, "Please kiss me."

You dug down, finding the person who sleeps under the open sky of the wasteland, who fights off hordes of ferals, sneaks through Gunner camps, takes on Deathclaws and survives.

You pressed your lips to his.

Warm, softer than you had envisioned, just like the man himself. Hancock's other hand rose to your cheek, so he was cupping your face in his hands, pulling you even closer. You let him take the lead, tilting your head gently, licking against your lips. You opened your lips for him easily, your hands wrapping around the back of his neck, leaving the two of you chest to chest, you halfway in his lap as he licked into your mouth, ravenous as if he had been starving for you.

You never wanted it to end, wanted to spend every moment of the rest of your life pressed to him, feeling his hands on you, his lips on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth.

When the tears slipped out, you almost thought it wouldn't matter, thinking you could keep the kiss going, sure you would survive without breathing, so long as he didn't stop kissing you.

But then a hitching sob rose from your chest and you were pulling away despite yourself, tucking your wet face into the crook of his neck. His hands wrapped around your waist, settling you properly against him.

You swallowed any other rogue sounds, blinked rapidly to try to rid yourself of the tears, trying to pull yourself together so you could face Hancock again. One of his hands was rubbing soothingly along your back, the other having worked it's way up to your hair, gentle fingers smoothing out tangles, rubbing along your scalp.

It took longer than you would have liked to pull yourself together, and a bit longer than that to gather the courage to look at Hancock, sniffling lightly.

His smile was tight, self conscious, as if he genuinely believed you could have been crying because of his kiss.

You didn't even let him get through his dejected, "That bad, huh?" before you were spitting it out, desperate for him to understand that it wasn't his fault, "I'm leaving Goodneighbor tomorrow." You got it out fast, as if it left a bad taste on your tongue.

He blinked, insecurity fading from his expression, replaced by genuine confusion.

You continued, desperate to repair your faux-pas, to make him understand your thought process, why it would lead you to tears; "This just... makes it that much harder to go."

You ran your hand down his chest, anxiously fiddling with the stitching on his lapels, "Hanc- John, please believe me, I've been wanting to do that for fucking ages, I just-"

The gentle press of his lips against yours cut you off, a quick press of heat and then gone again. This time you did chase after him, managing to get in a peck against upturned lips before he was pulling away.

It was your turn to be confused, pulling back to look at his smiling face, wondering if all that drug use had finally fried his brain.

"That's what's got you so worried?" He asked, voice soft.

You blinked at him before giving a small nod, expecting him to tell you to just stay with him, pressure already building behind your eyes as you imagined explaining to him that you just weren't made for sitting idle.

"So, then, when do we leave?"

"We?" You whispered, not trusting your voice.

"If you're alright with delaying the departure a bit, I should probably wait for the ne'er do wells to sleep off the hangover to give a little speech, pretty sure it's bad form for the Mayor to up and vanish. Then again, it's me we're talkin' about, they should know better than to–"

You pressed your lips to his, partly from exhilaration, partly for him to shut up long enough for you to process the information he'd presented you with. You'd never considered asking Hancock to leave his town. In your mind, he was Goodneighbor, the very best of it.

You pull away, running a finger across Hancock's cheek, feeling the muscles jump under you as he gives you a soft smile.

"Are you sure?" You ask.

"Love, I'd like to see anyone try to stop me."

Notes:

Thanks for reading! Please leave me a comment, or request something, or just come chat with me!

[iwritefandomimagines]

REGRET — COOPER HOWARD/JOHN HANCOCK

masterlist

part one | part three [coming soon]

pairing: new bf!cooper howard/the ghoul x reader, ex-bf!john hancock x reader

description: you finally head to goodneighbor for a well earned rest… but hancock’s jealousy (and cooper’s possessiveness) might get in the way of that.

warnings: angst, swearing, jealous!hancock this time as well as jealous coop when you talk to him hehe.

author’s note: ok so i didn’t want hancock to be an ass (like that’s my og ghoul bf🤝) so he’s less of a prick than initially intended while cooper is… well… himself. but i hope u enjoy <3 part one linked above and smutty pt.3 coming soooon

———

“Ya sure you’re alright with this, sweetheart?”

Cooper calling you sweetheart had once ignited within you a combination of fear and excitement, never quite knowing whether he was doing so to tease you or with some semblance of affection.

Now, though, it spread warmth throughout your body — a sense of comfort knowing that he cared about you, with sweetheart being just one amongst a myriad other terms of endearment he used for you.

“‘S okay, Coop,” you tightened your grip on his arm where yours curled around it, “I got you, I’ll be fine.”

He hummed, seeming satisfied with your response as he leaned to press a kiss to your forehead, “If he so much as—,”

“He’s not gonna do anything, good or bad,” you shook your head, “He’ll probably just play the hospitable mayor and pretend he don’t know me, if anything.”

Cooper looked down at you now, trying hard to decipher your emotions.

You could tell, even after days of trying to reassure him, that he still had some fear you’d abandon him to return to a life in Goodneighbor once you saw Hancock again.

You leaned in a little closer, head resting on his shoulder as you made your way towards The Third Rail, heaving in a deep sigh at the familiar warmth it brought you.

You fought hard to ignore the stares coming your way, or the mumblings of Hancock’s men as they nodded for you to head on down.

“Alright, darlin’,” Cooper cooed, leading you to the bar, “What’dya want?”

Immediately upon replying (a bourbon, as always) you felt a shadow of a figure appear at your other side, as if he’d had a radar set for your arrival.

Cooper seemed uncharacteristically unaware for a moment as he busied himself ordering from Charlie, all while your former lover’s breath fanned over your neck.

“Well I never,” god, just hearing his voice again made your throat dry up… Even more so when you turned and saw his pained expression, “Didn’t count on ever seeing you here again. Especially not with company.”

The way he spat the last word made you shiver, unused to hearing him speak so harshly to you.

“We’ll be out of here in a few days— we just had a hell of a week,” you swallowed thickly, avoiding catching his intense gaze with yours, “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have—,”

It was now that your travelling companion noticed the other ghoul at your side, a snide grin on his face, “Well fuck me, didn’t take ya long did it?”

Before you looked at him you’d worried this was directed at you — that he thought somehow Hancock’s presence beside you had been invited.

But one glance saw his steely gaze fixed on the man before him, simultaneously threatening as well as mocking.

“Long time no see, Mayor. My sweet lil Y/N over here told me you’d been oh so hospitable last time she was here,” his hand fell to your waist possessively, watching Hancock’s eyes follow the action, “So we’re crashing at the Rexford for a couple nights if it ain’t no trouble.”

Hancock scratched the back of his neck, contemplating how to respond.

“We can leave if you want, John,” you choked on your words as you realised your error, “Mayor.”

“‘S fine, doll,” he bit, forcing a smile for you as he glared across at Cooper, “Welcome as long as you need. Can I speak to you alone for a minute though? Won’t keep ya long.”

You looked over at Cooper, not to seek permission but just to see how the request had gone down with him.

He was less than impressed.

“Is that a good idea?” you whispered shyly, fiddling with your fingers as you eyed the floor.

“Why wouldn’t it be, sunshine?” Cooper’s teasing seemed to have extended to be at your expense now too, and though you knew it was probably just 200 odd years of loneliness impairing his filter — you had to fight back the urge to roll your eyes, “‘S okay. We’ve got a hotel room to ourselves tonight, can’t keep you to myself the whole evening, can I? Much as I can’t wait to get you alone.”

You watched Hancock kiss his teeth — he knew Cooper was just trying to get a rise out of him, but it was certainly fucking working.

He chose to ignore him.

“C’mon, darlin’. Just a minute’s all I need.”

You sighed, “One minute.”

You followed him out of the room, cautious of the privacy you were being afforded as you turned to send Cooper a shy smile.

“How long’d it take you to find him, huh?” his voice wasn’t accusatory, he just sounded sad, “I ain’t trying to start a fight, I just hoped if I saw you again we might make things right. Didn’t expect you to be with someone else.”

You scoffed, “John, you ended things between us and it really fuckin’ hurt. I’m not sure you really get to be jealous or hopeful or whatever this is.”

“I made a mistake, sunshine,” he stepped towards you, “Been layin’ off the chems a little more since you left and I’ve been seeing straighter. I missed you.”

You gulped, feeling bile rise up your throat at his words.

Months ago, you’d most likely have jumped straight into his arms and forgiven him.

Now, it pricked it your heart in a totally different way. While it comforted you to know he’d made a change since losing you, it hurt that he couldn’t have done it sooner.

Besides, you were finally happy again now — Cooper made you happy.

“It’s a little late for that, don’tcha think?” you pouted, “And I know you’re more mad ‘cause he’s a ghoul when that’s like half the reason you decided we couldn’t be together.”

“I just thought— well, think, you deserve better,” Hancock frowned, “I’m just surprised.”

You sighed, “C’mon, don’t condescend me because you’re jealous.”

“I’m not condescending you,” he suddenly looked irritated more than sad as he had before, “You’re travelling around with a fuckin’ bounty hunter who’s bad news when you were—we were happy.”

“I’m happy with my fuckin’ bounty hunter, too,” your fingers made air-quotes as you snapped at him, “Can I remind you again who ended things here?”

“Alright, you’re right. I’m being jealous, but you can’t blame me,” he sighed defeatedly, closing his eyes for a moment contemplatively, “I’m really struggling since I’ve been cuttin’ down on the chems and—,”

You laughed bitterly, “Oh so you only miss me ‘cause you need something else to fixate on?”

“Low blow, huh,” he huffed, “You were the best thing that ever happened to me, sweetheart. I miss you ‘cause you’re you. Just got a clearer mind so can’t do anything to keep you off it now.”

“John…” he was stood closer to you now, and you were trembling under his close gaze, “I’m sorry—you broke my heart for no real reason and this is just—,”

“I’m sorry for treatin’ you like you can’t make your own decisions and— well, I fucked up. I regret it more than I’ve ever regretted anything,” he chuckled at his own words, “And I’ve done a whooole lot worth regretting.”

He drew in a sharp breath as you stayed silent for a moment, waiting for some kind of response that he never received.

You stood silently, biting your lip as you tried to calm your unsteady heartbeat with deep breaths.

He unfolded his arms, raising goosebumps on your skin as his hand rested on your forearm, “Look, Y/N, I ain’t gonna do anything you don’t want, I just had to see if there was any hope—he ain’t just any ghoul, I just don’t wanna see you with the wrong people.”

Before you could reply, you heard a kerfuffle outside, low grumblings of “you can’t go in there” and “wait outside” punctuated by the door swinging open to reveal Cooper.

“The only wrong person for Y/N right now is you, Mayor, so if I were you I’d watch where your hand’s going damn carefully.”

If looks could kill, Goodneighbor would’ve been mayorless in that moment.

Hancock didn’t retract his hand though, only raising his other one to dismiss his men, “Heh, you’ve made a lapdog out of the big bad bounty huntin’ ghoul I see, sweetheart.”

You watched Cooper’s hand rest on his gun at his side, staring at him a wide-eyed.

You knew he wasn’t stupid enough to shoot the mayor and that he was merely trying to threaten him, but it panicked you all the same.

“This here might be your town, but that there is my girl,” okay, his possessiveness could be really hot, “And if ya think I’m gonna let you sweet talk her after breakin’ her pretty little heart? Well, them chems really done fucked up your brain.”

The mayor shook his head, “Oh you’ve made that quite clear, but Y/N’s a big girl and can make her own damn decisions,” he glanced over at you now, “Me and you were happy before I went ‘n’ screwed things up, you can’t blame a man for trying.”

“Well, your mission failed,” Cooper pouted teasingly as he sauntered to your side and hooked your waist to pull you in close to him.

“Oh, ‘m sure you’ve had plenty of them, cowboy,” Hancock laughed through gritted teeth, sad eyes watching you lean into your new partner’s side, “Well, we had some good times sunshine, but I can see you‘ve moved on ‘n’ it looks like I can’t do anything about that.”

You sent him a small smile, looking up at Cooper for a moment to find him watching carefully for your response.

“I’m sorry, John,” you frowned, contemplating reaching out to hug him in a tactile show of forgiveness, “You’re right, things have changed. But that don’t mean our time together meant nothing to me.”

He smiled sadly at you, eyes briefly flickering to send daggers in Cooper’s direction.

You continued, “And I hope us being here don’t cause any trouble now. I’m happy, ‘nd I want you to be as well. We’ll, uh, see you around?”

“I’m glad you’re happy, really,” Hancock cooed, “Even if it’s with him. So yeah, I’ll see you around, gorgeous. Stay safe.”

“You don’t think I can keep her safe?” Cooper challenged, hand on his hip again as he snarled at him.

Hancock scoffed, “For someone so certain she doesn’t want me anymore, you sure are determined to make this a pissing contest, aren’t you?”

“C’mon, this is ridiculous,” you huffed, “I’m right here, for fucks sake. Right now I just need a drink, so if you guys are gonna carry on like this I’ll just go get one on my own, I guess.”

Hancock heaved in a deep sigh, itching for a hit of Jet given all the tension this conversation had left lingering in the room.

He didn’t want to fight over you like a possession, and he knew that really Cooper didn’t either.

“‘M sorry, Y/N,” he stepped back, turning to walk away, “Go on. I’ll see you soon.”

“Wouldn’t count on it,” Cooper hummed, and you nudged his side at the continued warpath he seemed to be on, “Now c’mon sweetheart, we got a hotel room to get to.”

———

ok so this ended with cooper pissing you off in order to make way for makeup sex in part 3 basically hehe. im not sure how i feel so will probs come back to edit but i hope you enjoyed!!! feel free to request more… ive got a fluffy hancock fic almost finished too <3 in the meantime here’s my masterlist. x

[hancocksspouse]

"I'm right here. You're safe. I'm not leaving. Stay with me"

Oh? Sounds like someone is about to suffer a brain chemistry altering panic attack heehee hoohoo

---

How anybody in the commonwealth actually managed to get a full night's sleep honestly puzzled Doll most days. Yes, she slept, but the sleep actually being true, restful sleep was rare, leading her to finding small hobbies or projects to work on until she was tired enough to doze off.

The lamp on her desk glowed gently next to her pipboy, Diamond City radio playing on a low volume while she sat, cleaning and oiling pieces and parts of her more frequently used guns. It was something she could do that kept her hands busy while using very little thought, making way for boredom to lead to tiredness. The light blue of her pipboy showed her how late it had gotten, 1:45 am showing in the corner of the little screen. She glances at it briefly before continuing on with the task at hand, sliding the pieces slowly back together and finishing her handgun.

In the room across from her, Hancock was already asleep, a light snore sounding from him periodically. The way he was able to sleep thru anything after a few puffs of jet made her wonder if it was something she should give a try, but the memory of her prior family's addictive personalities kept her from doing chems for fun. But she wasn't going to yuck someone else's yum or judge them for it.

A gentle snore rings out into the hall a few minutes along, followed by a small rustle that she thought nothing of. Another rustle met her ears and she raised a brow, lowering the volume on her pipboy to listen out and make sure Hancock was alright, a habit she still had from monitoring Shaun after bringing him home from the hospital. The thing that startled her and had her racing across the hall to him was the sudden yell of her name out of nowhere.

"DOOOLL!!!"

It took nothing for her to be in the doorway, eyes wide and looking at Hancock, who was laying on his back, his breathing rapid and stuttered by what sounded like tears and panic. His hands covered his eyes and she made her way to the bed beside him, calling his name and gently grabbing his wrists, trying to pull his arms from his face.

"Hancock", she gently calls to him while slowly pulling his hands away from his eyes, tears sliding quickly down the sides of his face. His breathing is still rapid and panicked, eyes just barely open and she pulls him into her arms, resting his head into her neck while she holds him. She can feel feel him return the hold, his arms locking tight around her as he continues to cry into her shoulder.

"Hancock. Hey. Can you hear me? Nod if you can hear me, okay? Take your time, I'm not goin' anywhere", she gently says, rubbing his back. Soon, she feels him nod his head against her slowly and she continues to hold and comfort him. "I'm right here. You're safe. I'm not leaving. Stay with me", she reassures him, taking slow deep breaths deliberately for him to copy. His hold remains tight but soon, his panic starts to ease while he continues to breathe deeply, relaxing against her.

He can't say he's ever had a time like this, where for once, he's the one being held, being comforted, but the realization mixed with the night terror he had just suffered thru makes him begin to cry again, albeit not as wildly.

"Jesus fuck, y-you're okay", he whispers, sniffling as he holds onto her for dear life, head hidden in her neck. She leans her cheek against his head, a frown taking over her features.

"Yes, I'm okay. Talk to me, John. What happened?", she gently asks him, putting no rush into him when his tears slow down a bit, but continue to fall.

"I-I saw him kill you. He-he was back. Vic was back and he found us a-and he did the same thing to you that he did to that other drifter and just like last time, I...I couldn't stop him", he says, the dream still fresh. Slowly, but surely, he begins to calm down, still hanging onto his friend just as she holds him for as long as he needs her to and eventually, he wipes his eyes, having worn himself out with his own tears.

"How are you feeling now?" she asks, still seated on the bed with him, rubbing his back. For a moment, it's quiet. And then, he chuckles.

"I'm sorry for freakin' you out, sister. Didn't think a dream would get the jump on me like that", he says, trying to light-heartedly play it off as no big deal, but she shakes her head, thumb still rubbing circles on him.

"Hancock. Don't play it off now. It's okay to be scared. It's okay to need comfort when you're distressed", she says, not moving from her spot. "I'm here. Stay with me".

The quiet takes over again and he thinks for a moment, head still firmly planted against her neck and he simply nods, his arms having not loosened one bit as they sit together in his bed.

And it isn't long before they both let sleep take them, both secure that the other one is safe in their arms and they'll still be there when their eyes open.

---

I figured this time, it was Hancock's turn to have a little freak out as a treat :) but I hope you enjoyed it, friend!

-Hancock's spouse

[dylanblakesgal]

Cooper Howard qotues

Why, is this an Amish production of The Count of Monte Cristo or... just the weirdest circle jerk I've ever been invited to?" – The Ghoul after being awoken

"Well, what makes you think I'd give a good goddamn about that?" – The Ghoul to Honcho about a bounty

"Well, I tell you what, boys, whenever somebody says... ...they're doing one last job, that usually means their heart's not in it. Probably never was. But for me, well... I do this shit for the love of the game." – The Ghoul to the bounty hunters

"You right, friend, about one thing. This right here was your last job. My paycheck wasn't quite what you expected, but... well, you know what they say. Us cowpokes... ...we take it as it comes." – The Ghoul while murdering Honcho

"Now, last night a bounty came in through all six agencies. A hefty price on the head of a man that fits the description of that fella right there. Now, I may not know much, but I do know a bidding war when I see one." – The Ghoul about the bounty for Dr. Wilzig

"Well, now, that is a very small drop in a very, very large bucket of drugs." – The Ghoul after being shot at by Lucy

"You got to be fucking kidding me." – The Ghoul after seeing Maximus' arrival

"Well, I'd say come up here and get me, but... it's hard to walk upstairs when you're wearing a 12-piece cast-iron skillet set." – The Ghoul to Maximus.

"Well, I guess basic training ain't what it used to be. 'Cause you drive that thing like a fucking shopping cart. Rule number one: read the manual." – The Ghoul taunting Maximus

"Yeah, well, the Wasteland's got its own golden rule. [...] Thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time."

"Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain't all canned peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart. Sometimes a fella's got to eat a fella." – The Ghoul while harvesting Roger's remains

"I'll bet that outfit makes y'all fell like a big man, don't it? Well, I know 'cause, well I used to wear one back in the day. There was only one problem with it. There was a flaw in the welding just below the chest plate. I wonder if they fixed that in this new model? I guess not." – The Ghoul confronting the Brotherhood.

"Oh, you want another autograph, young Henry? Feo, fuerte y formal." – The Ghoul to Hank MacLean.

"When your daughter said her last name was MacLean, well, I just couldn't believe it was the MacLean. Hell, this kid used to pick up my wife's dry cleaning. Now, I've waited over 200 years to ask somebody one question. Where's my fucking family?" – The Ghoul confronting Hank MacLean.

"War never changes. You look out at this Wasteland, looks like chaos. But there's always somebody behind the wheel. And that's who I want to talk to. That's where your daddy is headed." – The Ghoul to Lucy Maclean.

John Hancock quotes

Of the people, for the people."

"Plenty of folks wanna make life hard for people just tryin' to survive. I'm not willing to stand for that kinda shit."

"What kind of settlement requires a test for entry?" – Referring to Covenant.

"Whoa, the Downs. Hope we're not going anywhere for a while." – Referring to Easy City Downs.

"That kinda bull is the reason I became mayor in the first place." – Referring to The Big Dig

"Damn. Hey, look, if you wanna get outta here..." – If taken to Nate/Nora's corpse in Vault 111.

"If someone needs help, we help 'em. If someone needs hurting, we hurt 'em. It's not hard."

"Like it? I think it gives me a sexy, king of the zombies kinda look. Big hit with the ladies."

"Hey, does that play "Red Menace?" Love that damn game." – Accessing a terminal

"Looks like you can use a little pick me up." – Said when initiating dialogue with him as a companion (and him giving the player character a random chem)

"Whoa ho ho, I like you already! Walk into a new place, make a show of dominance. Nice." – referring to the Sole Survivor killing Finn

"Listen close. It's the last thing you're ever gonna hear." – When Sinjin tells the player character to stop speaking as The Silver Shroud

"Christ, it's bright in here. Clearly they didn't consider some folks might be nursing hangovers. " – Possible comment when entering Vault 81.

If completing The Big Dig with Bobbi No-Nose:

"How you doin' killer? Arms tired from all that digging? You know, my strongroom is surprisingly empty now..."

"Now if it was just the money, I'd rough you up, break a few bones, and then we'd be square once you paid me back. But you killed Fahrenheit. That means blood for blood."

When traveling naked:

"Hey Emperor, love the outfit."

"Let them stare."

"Don't mind me, just enjoying the view"

When committing Cannibalism:

"Suppose they're...beyond caring at this point"

"You...you do what you gotta"

"That one...all yours"

"At least you have the politeness to wait til they're dead"

When using chems:

"Two a day, keep reality at bay."

"Lean back and enjoy the ride."

"That's a good one, take it all in."

"Never trip alone."

When getting Addiction:

"You feel as bad as you look?"

"Wow, how much did you take?"

"'ay, you should slow down, and that's ME saying that"

When not responding while talking with him:

"Did I say something wrong?"

"You wanna talk? Make me a little nervous over here."

"What gives? I thought we were talking."

"Did your chems just kick in or something?"

"Like talking to a brick wall."

"Hmm, lights are on but no one's home."

"What? Mole rat got your tongue?"

"Uhm... You alright?"

"You check out on me?"

"Anybody in there?"

"That's right. Take it all in

After committing to a close relationship

"Words don't begin to do it justice. You, you're the best thing I got."

"Guess you're the piece I'd always missing...that and that toe I still can't find..."

"It's like I found a part of myself I never realized was missing... which happens sometimes when you're a ghoul."

"Nothing to lose but each other."

"Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull. Because no one like me should be this lucky."

"You sure you wanna be stuck with this ugly mug?"

When Lover's Embrace is activated:

"Morning, sunshine."

"Well look at you. I must still be dreamin'..."

"Don't mind me... just enjoying the view."

Upon picking up junk:

"Careful! You don't know where that's been."

"That actually worth something?"

"If anybody could find a use for that."

Upon looting a corpse:

"Time to collect."

"To the living, go the spoils."

When the Brotherhood of Steel arrives in the Commonwealth:

"Holy shit." – When witnessing the Prydwen's arrival.

"Brotherhood knows how to make an entrance. I'll give 'em that." – When commenting on the Brotherhood

Cooper Howard VS John Hancock quotes these two has some good quotes it's hard to pick one for me I say both anyways you can use these for Headcannons, Edits, Memes, and so on I just put these here so it's easier for some people to use them I also tag people if your interested talk in the messages there open I have so many things I want to make but the next one is going to get Cooper Howard and John Hancock with Serena I was thinking doing a Picture Edit with some quotes and yes I do requests too.

[mrs-mayor-hancock]

I thought I lost you

Hancock x reader (fluff/angst)

Warnings: mentions of blood, guns, violence, and death

———————————————

The sound of gunshots is what woke you. Your husband jumped up and grabbed his gun, ordering his men to get outside. Goodneighbor was under attack.

You had never gotten dressed so quickly in your life. Racing down the stairs with your gun, you quickly shot down the raiders that had been trying to get into the Old State House.

You scooted against the wall and peeked around the corner, you spotted your husband and K.L.E.O fighting with a group of raiders.

While you were figuring out how to get to your husband, you didn’t notice a small group of raiders coming up behind you. They grabbed you, taking your gun. You screamed for your husband as they dragged you away.

Hancock came running, only to be met with a grenade being thrown at him. Luckily he wasn’t injured, just knocked back. When he came to, you were gone and the fighting had stopped.

————

You sat in a bunker, you had no idea how long you’d been down there. It could’ve been hours, days, maybe even weeks.

As the weeks went past, you studied the group that had taken you. There were six of them. After three weeks, you feared the worst that everyone in Goodneighbor was dead and help wasn’t coming.

————

“WEEKS! It’s been WEEKS since she was taken and not one of you has been able to find her!” Hancock screamed. He had searched everywhere, put out a radio message, and even contacted the minutemen. You were gone without a trace.

“Sir,” a guard approached, “I, along with a few others, think it may be time to consider the possibility that she may not be alive, it’s been three weeks, raiders don’t normally keep their captives alive this long.”

Hancock slowly turned and stared at this guard. He could feel his blood boiling. He threw a punch at him, knocking the poor guard out. “She’s alive, I know she is.”

————

You were able to lift a knife off of one of the raiders while he was passed out. Your heart pounded, if any of them woke up, you wouldn’t be able to fight them all off.

The sandman kills went easier than expected, none of them made a sound. You grabbed an old backpack, filling it with supplies, you grabbed a gun with plenty of ammo and opened the door to the building quietly.

Looking around, you tried to see if there were any other raiders around. Only one at the entrance of the facility, it was a tiny bunker, a hideout you guessed. Quickly getting rid of said raider, you tried to figure out where you were. You wandered a bit, coming to a vault, it was hard to see in the dark but the letters read a clear 111. Your eyes widened in realization, you were near Sanctuary.

You started running and ended up tumbling down the hill towards Sanctuary. You got up and ran, finally coming face to face with Preston Garvey. “Y/N Hancock! Where have you been? Your husband put out a radio message to see if anyone had seen you.” You explained how Goodneighbor was attacked, how you had been kidnapped, and snuck your way out of the tiny bunker.

Preston called in a few minutemen who were able to escort you to the front gate of Goodneighbor.

————

Hancock was buying chems from Fred Allen outside of Hotel Rexford when he heard it. “JOHN!” He froze, instantly recognizing the voice that called his name. Dropping his chems, he turned around to see you running from the entrance. He had never run so fast to get to you. Tears streaming down your face, you jumped up into his arms, wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly.

You stayed like that for a while before he asked what happened. He started walking to your home, you explained what happened as he carried you up the stairs.

“I saw blood, and then I had a grenade tossed at me, which knocked me out. When I came to, you were gone and I was scared, I thought I lost you.”

You shed a few tears as you kissed him. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, rubbing your back while you kissed. The next few minutes felt like you were in slow motion. You stared at each other for a while, you yawned, signaling it was time for a nap. You were exhausted and hadn’t slept properly in the last few weeks.

Hancock lifted up the blankets, tucking you both under, he pulled you close until you were resting your head on his chest. “I promise no one will ever take you from me again” he said as he rubbed your back.

[water-petal]

Y/N x john hancock incorrect quote

//you are cait's sister in this//

cait: where were you guys? y/n : i was doing stuff.... john hancock: i am the stuff y/n: omg john nooooooo cait: haha john you are fucking my sister *slowly reloads her gun with holy intent to shoot john on spot*

[hayleythesugarbowl]

Could you do a romantic x reader oneshot on Captain Man ❤️ From- Henry Danger (Where a beautiful Fashion Designer in training (from: "Storybrooke, Maine") has a encounter with Captain Man at The John Hancock Center in Swellview where she accidentally gets trapped in a elevator with him, where Captain Man quickly starts to fall in love with her and flirts with her a bit during their time being trapped until Kid Danger comes and saves them, the reader secretly starts to find Captain Man very attractive as they shared a long passionate kiss until later on they were caught making out by Kid Danger after he and Schwoz got the elevator working)

(The reader is a vegetarian, she loves reading, designing clothes, she's attracted to masked men, she loves kickboxing and blue orchids, her favorite color is blue, she's claustrophobic, In Storybrooke her old job was working as a waitress at Granny's Diner, she loves animals)

(The reader doesn't who Ray Manchester and doesn't know that he's captain man, she was hoping to find a job in Swellview)

Stuck || Ray Manchester/Captain Man x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • ray manchester masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: oneshot where you, an aspiring-fashion-designer, get trapped in an elevator with captain man on your way to a job interview

word count: 3.5k

warnings: none it’s literally just flirting

a/n: ok I actually love this idea so so much and I hope I did it justice for you. this request was so detailed so thank you babes <3 enjoy!! 💌🎀💋

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You clutched your portfolio tighter as you stepped off of the bus and into the warm, spring air. You still hadn’t gotten used to the weather here in Swellview. Compared to your hometown of Storybrooke and the cold Maine temperatures this was practically a sauna. 

     Pulling at your skirt, you turned your gaze upwards toward the towering building in front of you. John Hancock Center, read the giant block letters on the building’s front, Quality Fashion Since 1909.  

     You breathed in a sigh. This was your chance. And you weren’t going to become a famous fashion designer by standing outside on the sidewalk for hours. Walking into the establishment, you tried to give yourself a quick pep talk 

     Ok, you told yourself, this is what I’m here for. I will get this job. I’m going to walk in there and show them my designs and what’s the worst that could happen? I don’t get the job, have to move back to Maine, tell my parents they were right all along, and go back to waiting tables at Granny’s Diner…

     Ok, so the pep talk wasn’t working. You looked down again at the paper in your hand. Floor 14, Suite B: 11:30am. You still had plenty of time—you were almost an hour early—but you just wanted to make sure you didn’t blow this. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself at your over-preparedness. You figured you could probably just sit in the lobby while you waited and go over your designs and play out the interview in your head. 

    Seeing no seats available in the packed building filled with well-dressed employees, you decided to try your luck upstairs—there had to be a waiting area or at least a chair on the 14th floor, right? 

    Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you headed towards the elevator. Seeing a mirror, you studied yourself in it for a moment.

    I look like a fashion designer, don’t I? You asked yourself. You looked from your (y/e/c) eyes and your (y/h/c) hair to the outfit you had spent hours last night stying in various shades of your favorite blues and realized you did. You’d worked like heck to get here and whatever happened in this interview wouldn’t change that. 

    Feeling significantly more calm than you had mere minutes ago, you stepped on to the elevator. You were just beginning to open the bag clutched beneath your arm when you paused as you realized alarms were going off in what sounded like the distance. It was hard to tell from the muffled elevator. Suddenly the elevator stopped—on the 6th floor according to the lit-up buttons near the doors. 

    Without warning the doors burst open, shoved apart with inhuman strength, and someone stepped into the small elevator. 

    Captain Man. 

     You recognized him instantly. Who wouldn’t? Apart from his infamous red-and-blue superhero suit, it also had something to do with the fact that he was one of the biggest celebrities in Swellview, rivaled only by his sidekick Kid Danger. Something you had to get used to when you moved here not even 4 months ago. 

    Personally you didn’t quite understand the idolization people had for them. I mean sure, they’d saved a lot of people over the years, or so you’d heard. But other cities survived without superheroes, didn’t they? 

    However, as Captain Man stepped into the elevator, you couldn’t argue that the man was an imposing figure—and attractive. 

     “You go around the back, Kid. I’m getting on the elevator” he shouted into his wristwatch.

     “Why can’t I take the elevator and you climb 18 flights of stairs?” you heard what must have been Kid Danger’s reply over the communication device. 

     “Just do it!” the superhero argued back.

      He stepped all the way into the elevator, not seeming to notice that another person was in it, and began pushing the button for the top floor repeatedly.

     You took a step backwards. 

    “I don’t think that’s going to make it go any faster,” you commented.

    “Look lady, I think I know what I’m d—” he turned around finally looking at you and stopped abruptly. “Hello there, I’m Captain Man, maybe you’ve heard of me?” He smirked as he sauntered over to you, “And you are?”

     “(Y/n)”

     “Well (Y/n), what’s a beautiful woman like yourself doing at the John Hancock Center?”

     You couldn’t help but smile at the superhero. You’d heard he was a flirt. Guess the rumors were true. “I’m here for a job interview. I’m a fashion designer. Or, I will be, if this interview goes well.”

      “No way! I’m somewhat of a fashion designer myself. I did design this,” he gestured to his Captain Man suit with pride. You chuckled as he began posing, showing different elements of his superhero suit. 

     “Stay focused, man!” Kid Danger’s voice startled you again. 

     “Don’t you have stairs to climb?” Captain Man yelled into his watch as he scowled and headed back towards the front of the elevator. 

     “What exactly is going on?” You asked as you tried to understand what was happening. 

     Captain Man turned to look at you. “Just your average burglary, nothing I can’t handle, beautiful.” He winked at you, and you found yourself blushing. You shook it off. 

     “And you’re pushing the button to every floor, because? I do have a job interview to get to.”

     He paused as if to consider this when a rumbling sound and the building shaking as if victim to an earthquake interrupted his train of thought. You clutched your portfolio tighter. 

     “What was that?”

     “I’m sure it was nothing,” he waved his hand in the air “Don’t worry, I have everything under contr—”

     The place shook harder and this time even Captain Man himself seemed vaguely worried. 

     “Kid? Situation?”  He asked his watch.

     “I think Minyak is on the roof and he’s somehow weakening the structure of the building,” came his reply, “I’m going to—” His voice was cut off by a loud bang and then nothing happened.

     Silence filled the elevator. 

     “Kid? KID?” When no response came, Captain Man rushed to push the button for the top floor again.

     “Dr. Minyak?! You said this was a ‘simple burglary’!” You shouted over the noise of—whatever was going on up on the roof—as you watched the lights on the buttons move along the wall while the elevator went up and up. From what you had heard, Dr. Minyak was one of Swellview’s most notorious criminals. You sighed and glanced at your watch. Luckily you were early to your interview.

     “It was a simple burglary! Dr. Minyak came here to steal all the designs for the Swellview Fashion Show this weekend so he could win once and for all—or something like that.” He shrugged.

     You tilted your head to the side, “Minyak? Fashion show?”

     “I don’t know, something about a childhood dream and a lost career in fashion…” He rolled his eyes. “But that doesn’t explain why he’s on the roof and why—”

     A loud bang filled your ears followed by a sound like metal scraping metal and the elevator stopped moving abruptly. Captain Man tried opening the doors, but they wouldn’t budge. 

     “Aw sweet beans and rice! Minyak jammed the elevator!” Captain man slammed his fist into the elevator wall. “I should’ve just taken the stairs!”

     You gulped

     “Stuck?”

     You had never exactly been a fan of elevators, I mean sure they saved you having to walk multiple flights of stairs. But you didn’t exactly love the idea of being in a small metal box suspended between floors of a tall building. And being extremely claustrophobic didn’t exactly help. 

     The superhero began pushing the emergency call button over and over until with a snap! it popped off. 

     “Oops,” he muttered sheepishly. “Great, now I’ll have to call Schwoz, if I can get a signal, and meanwhile Minyak is getting away again and Kid Danger could be in trouble—”

     He kept talking but you weren’t paying attention. 

     Stuck. Trapped. 

     You sucked in a long, deep breath. The air in the elevator suddenly seemed warmer and you pulled at the collar of your shirt. Was the elevator getting smaller or was it just you?

     “Alright Schwoz, just get here as soon as you can.” Captain Man hung up the phone and turned to you, “Help is on the way, so we should be outta here in about—(Y/n)?”

     He took in your panicked expression and your arms clutching the railing as your knuckles turned white, your back now firmly pressed to the wall. 

     “(Y/n), are you ok?” 

     “Oh I’m great. No, other than being suspended who-knows-how-many feet in the air with no escape, I’m doing just fine,” you snapped.

     “Hey, it’s ok, I have someone coming who’s going to get us out of here. Shouldn’t be more than,” he hesitated, “an hour?”

     “An hour?” You were definitely going to be late to this job interview.

     “Look, I’m doing the best I can, alright? And for now, how are you with small spaces?”

     “We don’t exactly get along,” you said, “We are going to get out of here, aren’t we?”

     “Trust me,” he put a hand on your arm gently, “nothing bad’s going to happen to you.” As if you punctuate this remark, the elevator shook, sending chills down your spine.

     “Do you mind!” Captain Man yelled up at the roof of the elevator. “Anyways, don’t worry, I promise we’ll be rescued in plenty of time for you to get to your interview.”

     You certainly hoped so. You couldn’t miss this opportunity. Captain man leaned on the wall across from you and sighed. He was silent for a moment, and then—

     “So, fashion designer, huh? I mean, what’s your story? How’d you decide that’s what you wanted to do?” He said 

     “What’s my story?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

     “Well I figure if we’re going to be trapped in here, might as well get to know each other,” he shrugged, “And it’ll take your mind off the whole walls-closing-in thing.”

     You rolled your eyes at him but you couldn’t help but smile. 

     “Alright,” you started, taking a deep breath. It couldn’t hurt to pass the time talking to the superhero in front of you. “Well, I’ve always wanted to design fashion, ever since I was a little girl. I grew up in Storybrooke, Maine and, well, there weren’t exactly a lot of opportunities presenting themselves in the fashion industry, so I came to Swellview.”

     “Of course, my parents don’t exactly approve of me throwing away my schooling and ‘stable career’ to take a chance at fashion. But they gave me 6 months to come out here and pursue my dream before I’m cut off completely. Or I’ll have to go back to Maine, back to college, and beg my boss at Granny’s Diner to let me back on, which won’t exactly be easy given the way I left, proclaiming my success before it even happened.”

     “I’ve been to exactly 9 interviews, so,” you gestured around you, “here I am. Tenth times the charm!”

     You instinctively clutched your portfolio closer as you thought back to the day you left your hometown and decided to take a risk for a future you wanted to have. You remembered the nervous feeling mixed with excitement and adrenaline as you got on the plane headed for Swellview. You didn’t regret it, not in the slightest. It only made you remember how important this interview was, a determined look setting on your face.

     Captain Man watched you intently as you told him your life story. You couldn’t believe how easy it was to just tell him everything. Everything that had been worrying you for the past few months. The knot in your chest began to loosen. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t, leaving the elevator silent save for the distant sirens you assumed had something to do with Dr. Minyak.

   You crossed your arms, “Well, what about you? Why’d you decide you wanted the superhero gig? I assume you weren’t born in a mask and spandex.”

    He chuckled, “Well, first of all there’s the fact I get stuck in elevators with gorgeous women during my job…”

     You smiled and tried to ignore the blush once again heating your cheeks. 

     “And also, I get to save people. I mean, Kid Danger and I have kept this city safe from a lot of dangerous people. I guess I just really care about the citizens of Swellview and protecting them. Honestly, I don’t know what all of you would do without me,” he smiled haughtily, laughter in his eyes. 

     You rolled your eyes, smiling back at him, “Oh I don’t know, I think we’d be all right.”

     “Not a fan of superheroes?” He feigned offense.

     “I just think people can handle themselves, without superheroes saving them all the time,” you answered truthfully.

     “Maybe you just haven’t been saved by the right superhero,” he challenged with a smirk. 

     “You call this saving me?”’ You asked playfully.

    “In due time,” he said, “Right now, I’m entertaining you aren’t I? Bet you aren’t thinking about being trapped in a tiny elevator anymore.”

     “I wasn’t.” 

     You couldn’t deny it though, you were enjoying his company. You had forgotten about your current situation. Or if not forgotten, at least became more calm. You took a deep breath and shifted your designs to the other side of your body. Captain Man followed the movement with his eyes. 

     “Hey, what’s in the bag?” He asked, indicating the pack containing all of your designs. 

     You instinctively put your arm over it, “Oh, this? iIt’s nothing, just some of my designs,” you shrugged. 

     “Mind if I take a look?” He reached out an arm and reluctantly you handed it over to him. What did you have to lose? 

     Captain Man took the bag from you and slid to the ground to examine your sketches and drawings. You sat down with him chewing your thumbnail nervously. You’d never really shown anyone your ideas before, other than possible employers and that hadn’t exactly worked out too well. 

    You glanced up at Captain Man self-consciously. He had now taken out multiple of your designs and was flipping through them, his eyebrows raised. You chastised yourself for being this anxious to hear his opinion. Your confidence didn’t depend on what he thought of your designs…did it?

     “Wow, (Y/n), these are…” He looked up at you, awe on his face, “If these people don’t give you a job they’re out of their minds!” 

    You gave him an embarrassed smile, your face warm. It meant a lot to you to hear him—anyone—say that. He handed you your deigns back, his gloved hand brushing yours as he did so. 

     You looked up at him and he met your eyes, but you couldn’t quite read his expression as his eyes bore into yours. 

    Bang! Bang! Bang! 

    You were both startled by a pounding on the elevator door. Your heart in your chest, you sprung up and Captain Man man jumped in front of you, his arm across your body as he shielded you from whatever was on the other side of the door. 

     “Hello?” Captain Man called

     “Yes?” The voice called back

     Captain Man’s expression broke into relief as he shook his head smiling, “Schwoz!” He lifted the arm that had been across your body and rested his hand on his hip. 

     So this must be the man who the superhero was calling before! You almost laughed; you were saved! Even as you rejoiced, you couldn’t help but feel…not disappointed, but you weren’t quite as relieved as you thought you’d be. You’d been enjoying your time with Captain Man.

     “So can you get us out of here?” He asked. 

     “Hmm…hopefully. The system’s really jammed,” Schwoz said, “I’m going to need to go and get some equipment. Is anyone in there with you?”

     Captain Man looked over at you. “Just one smokin’ hot fashion designer,” he winked and you crossed your arms teasingly. 

     “Ooh can I see?” Came Schwoz’s reply.

     “Kinda trapped in here, remember?” Captain Man rolled his eyes.

    “Oh, right,” he said sheepishly with a nervous chuckle, “well, I’m going to go now. I’ll be right back.”

   “Schwoz no, don’t leave!” Captain Man banged on the door. No reply came back. “Dang it Schwoz!” 

     You sighed. So close, you thought. You only hoped the strange man was, in fact, coming right back. You glanced at your watch. You still had almost half-an-hour before you’d be officially late to your interview. There was still time. However, you found yourself caring less and less about your appointment. You scolded yourself for thinking it, but you were almost glad to have a little more time with Captain Man before you’d go your separate ways. You couldn’t deny you enjoyed his company—and even his flirting.

    You glanced at him and found him watching you intently. He stepped towards you.

     “So, we’re almost out of here,” you said to break the silence. 

     He nodded. “You say that like it’s a good thing,” he said playfully. 

     “I bet you say that to all the girls you’re trapped with,” you shot back.  

     Captain Man laughed, “Not all of them, just the ones I really like.” 

     He took another step towards you.

     “You get trapped in elevators with a lot of women, do you?” 

     “Just the one,” he admitted, “but I’m thinking about doing it more often.”

     You were close to him now. Really close. You studied his features; the teasing smile on his face, the way his mask fit around his cheekbones, his eyes—they really were a beautiful blue, you thought—and finally his lips.

     “Why?” You breathed.

     “So I can do this.” He leaned towards you and suddenly his lips were on yours. Captain Man was kissing you. 

     And you were kissing him back. One of his hands went to your hair, the other pressed firmly against your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck tightly, his chest pressed against you. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You couldn't believe how little you cared about your interview. And then you couldn't think of anything else but the man in front of you. 

     Vaguely you registered hearing a loud noise, but you ignored it. Neither of you noticed as the elevator doors were pushed open and two figures rushed in.

     “Captain man you’re ok, I—My eyes, oh, my eyes are burning!” A voice exclaimed.

      “Woah, I see what you mean, she is hot,” another voice said

     Upon hearing the voices, you broke apart quickly. A short man with a tool belt and a teenager who could only be Kid Danger, his clothes covered in scorch marks and dust, stood in front of you. The latter was running his hands over his face, pretending to clean his eyes. 

     You glanced at them sheepishly. Captain Man ran a hand through his hair.

     “Go on,” said the man who must have been Schwoz with a mischievous grin, “pretend we’re not even here.”

     “Well, guess we didn’t need to get the elevator running, looks like you were having a great time!” Kid Danger scowled at Captain Man but you could tell he was relieved see his friend safe. 

     Captain Man turned towards his sidekick and Schwoz. “Anyways,” he said, “I’m glad you’re ok, Kid. And thanks to both of you for getting us out of here.”

     “It was easy work really,” Schwoz joked.

     A short silence filled the room. As if remembering you were there, the superhero quickly introduced you. “Oh guys, this is (Y/n). (Y/n), this is my assistant Schwoz—”

     “Assistant?”

     “—my coworker Schwoz, and you probably know my sidekick, Kid Danger.”

     You guys greeted each other awkwardly until Kid Danger checked his watch and said, “Alright, we better get out of here. Minyak’s still on the run and he’s not going to capture himself. We wouldn’t really be superheroes if we just let him go.” 

     Captain Man turned to you. “Speaking of which, you still feel the same way about superheroes?” He smirked

     “I might be revising my opinion,” you smiled

      “Well, good luck with your interview (Y/n). And, hey, if you’re ever need some more design inspiration, you know, for when you’re world famous, I hear Junk N’ Stuff might be a good place to look,” he winked at you and you were still contemplating what exactly he meant by that when he leaned down and kissed you gently.

     “Bye (Y/n).”

     And with that the superhero and his friends were gone, rushing down the hallway to look for a super villain and bring justice to this city. You smiled to yourself scarcely believing the events of the day.

     “Bye Captain Man.”

     You stepped off the elevator and onto the floor, checking your watch and slinging your bag over your shoulder as you started to head towards your interview. Except this time, you thought to yourself, you’d take the stairs. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed y’all!! i had so much fun writing this and I hope someone else has fun with it. i literally love ray and so i’m over the moon that he’s got a lil internet community 🤭 thank you to the anon who requested this <3

[cywritesthings]

Weathering a Storm (John Hancock/Fem Sole Survivor)

You can also find this over on AO3! Pre-relationship, warning for mild language.

Prompt: a sudden storm kicks up. Nora had not given much thought to just how severe the changes to the weather could be after the war. She was, unfortunately, going to find out from first-hand experience, much to the chagrin of her faithful companions, John Hancock and Dogmeat.

When you had escaped your frozen prison back in late October, you hadn’t really given thought to how the nuclear apocalypse may have affected the weather during the seasons. Hell, you hadn’t given thought to how nuclear radiation could’ve changed anything at that point.

You probably should have. Preferably before the middle of December, as the idea of combating radioactive snow and the freezing temperatures was now not just a damned idea, you are very much living it. Even with your wool-lined boots and the thick jacket you picked up in Diamond City, the bitterly cold wind whipping against you has long since pierced your protective clothing.

And, based on the constant stream of curses coming not too far behind you, your ghoulish companion is suffering similarly. Even Dogmeat is struggling, his usually high and wagging tail only a mere inch from dragging the ground.

Maybe it’s time to find some shelter…

Just as the thought struck your mind, the wind begins to pick up, and a new contender joins the falling snow: sleet. The horrid mix of ice and rain comes in sudden sheets, quickly drenching you and no doubt your companions, too. Your fingers are already numb as you fumble with your Pip-Boy, desperate to find something close enough to run to…

There!

“This way!” You half-scream over the roaring wind and rain, darting blindly to the right. Your Pip-Boy showed what seemed to be a house (or previously a house) in that general direction, and at this point, you have nothing to lose.

Well. Except your life from hypothermia. Or a fatal tumble to a broken neck. Slipping and landing on something sharp in a not great location.

Those thoughts put a further pep in your step, and thankfully, you can see Dogmeat running beside you as well as Hancock in your peripheral vision. You blindly grope forward as you run, and while it takes what feels like an eternity to find something solid amidst the pouring rain and ushered darkness-

OOF!

The air is knocked from your lungs as you practically clothesline yourself across the railing to the stairs.

“Found it,” you wheeze out, stumbling up the stairs. The door doesn’t budge when you try it, and you let out an exasperated cry as you jerk at it again.

“Move, sister!” Hancock budges you to the side, and delivers a hard kick to the door. The rotting wooden frame gives way under the force, leaving the door to swing open. He pushes against your back to get you inside, Dogmeat eager to follow.

You barely manage to turn the light on your Pip-Boy with your frozen fingers, but once the bright blue light shines through the darkness, you make for a nearby cabinet to push against the door. The door that Hancock has his back pressed against, the only thing standing between the mostly dry inside and the icy storm raging outside. With a few shoves, you have the cabinet wedged well enough that he can make a move to help force it the rest of the way against the door, propping it up on the stairs.

Your teeth chatter so hard, you’re impressed you don’t bite off your tongue when you speak. “W-we sh-sh-should go upstairs-s-s. Warm air r-rises.”

Hancock, breathing hard, nods and pulls out his knife, then waves for you to head up first. “You got the flashlight, might be better for you to head up first, hm?”

“Y-Yeah.” You draw your pistol, though you doubt your aim would be well enough to use it at the moment with how hard you shiver, and head up the stairs first. They are made of concrete versus standard wood, much to your relief; less likely to step on a rotten stair and go tumbling backwards. Dogmeat pushes in front of you, loudly sniffing, followed quickly by even louder sneezes.

A few minutes of checking the two rooms upstairs, and the three of you settle in the room closest to the door and with the fewest windows. While you peel off your sodden outer clothes, Hancock pushes the armoire in front of the sole window, trying to block the draft and any potential shards of glass, should it not hold up against the storm. Your coat and the pants you had on over your vault suit hit the floor with a nasty shlunk and shlop noise, followed by your boots and soaked socks. Not too far behind, Hancock starts stripping his centuries-old duds off, with similar unpleasant noises.

Still shivering, you get your flip lighter out and light the oil lamps you’d found in one of the hallway closets, then proceed to set up candles around the room. Still, the heat from those were so little, and even your vault suit was uncomfortably damp...

You look at Hancock, who’s back is to you as he rummages in the armoire, looking through the clothes inside. You barely manage to catch the sweater and pants he tosses at you.

“I can still hear your teeth chatterin’ away over the rain, Nora. Get out of that damned suit before you catch your death.”

“What about you?”

He laughs hoarsely as he pulls out a dusty white shirt and slacks. “Covered.”

You stare at him for a moment longer… and you can feel heat start to warm your cheeks, down to your neck. “Do you… mind turning around?”

“’Course not. You just had to ask.” He gives you a wink before turning his back to you, his pure cotton undershirt showing off just how lithe his figure is under that big, red coat. “Gonna ask the same of you, though.”

It takes a second for his words to process, but you chuckle once they do, turning your back to him as well. “I think that’s fair enough.”

Your icy fingers struggle with the zipper for a moment, but you do eventually manage to get the suit unzipped to your waist. Now the fun part: trying to get out of this damned thing when it’s practically suctioned to your skin. You nearly pull your shoulder out of socket just getting it off of your arms and down to your waist, but curses start to stream from your lips as you fight to get it off of your hips and legs.

“You need some help over there?” Hancock teases, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.

“I am fine, mind your business, sir,” you huff angrily, nearly ripping the damned suit before almost going headfirst into the bed in front of you. “Son of a fucking bitch.”

“Whoa, whoa, that’s no way to talk about your good pal’s mother.”

With a cry of success, you manage to wrangle the last of the suit from around your ankles. “Oh, you are so funny. Is the Mayor of Goodneighbor also known for his astounding comedy routines?”

“Why, of course. Who do you think they get down in The Third Rail when Mags is sick?”

“I can’t stand you,” you huff, shaking out your damp hair. Your underthings and the thin tank top you wear under the vault suit aren’t too bad off, just damp, so you slide the sweater and pants on over them. “Are you ready for me to turn around, or do I need to continue to protect your… modesty?”

“And here I thought I was protecting yours… nah, I’m good if you are, sister.”

“Neato.” You sigh as you turn around and sink onto a patch of dry floor, trying to soak up as much warmth from the oil lamps as possible. You notice Dogmeat has taken residence a ways outside the room, likely because he keeps shaking off so much water. And, well, your other companion sits across the lamps from you, picking through his coat’s pockets, likely looking for a chem of choice to use. “I gotta say, you clean up rather well, John Hancock.”

He laughs as he pops a few mentats out of their blister packs, then dry swallows them. “Why, thank you, beautiful. Gotta say, the old world looks pretty good on you, too.”

You snort, tugging at the hem of the woven sweater. “Well, thank you, good sir. I do happen to be quite a fan of this type of sweater. I… actually think I have a few put away somewhere…”

“...why didn’t you wear one?”

“Well, I… didn’t think the winters would be so severe.”

“I mean, didn’t the term ‘nuclear winter’ get coined in your time, sister?” He teases lightly as he fishes a can of purified water out of his bag and takes a long drink.

You snatch it out of his hand when he offers it to you, huffing. “Yes, but I never thought to take it literally.”

“Hmm. Wonder who’s fault that is then.”

“Certainly not mine.”

“No, ‘course not.”

You sigh and set the can of water between the two of you before snagging a dusty pillow, turning it to the less dusty side, and stretching out on the floor. “How long do these storms tend to last?”

“Should let up in a few hours.” He mirrors your actions, but uses his arms as a pillow instead. “One good thing ‘bout it, though.”

“Nothing’s gonna brave the storm to fuck with us?”

“Yep.”

[chardbones]

High in the moonlight

(John Hancock X Reader)

Warning: drug use and slight nsfw

A/N: Finally, it's done. I have a few more fic ideas for John so you can expect more from me in the near future. I have another idea for a longer fic like this one but I'll make sure to post some headcanons while the main fic is being written

Tonight everyone on Goodneighbor were celebrating. What you may ask, no clue. Y/N and John weren't all that interested on what was going one. They were more focused on the following hours to come.

The lights dimed, windows open, the full moon shinning bright. They could hear the chatter and laughter of everyone outside and the clanking of bottles.

Since Hancock met you, he's stopped taking so many chems as he used to but ever now and then you both have a "small" bender. And tonight was one of those moments.

You layed on the sofa, John laying on you and holding some Jet in one hand. When he's high Hancock tends to be really physically affectionate. Like really clingy and wanting to touch every part of you. While sober he is still every physically affectionate but while high it's a different story. But you never really had a problem with it, you loved it and made sure to give him plenty in return.

John inhaled the jet and tossed it over into a corner of the room. He moved around so he'd be laying on his stomach facing you. You look into he's beautiful void like eyes, it's one of the things that you were the most attracted to when it comes to his physical appearance. He looked even more beautiful with the moonlight mix with the candle light illuminating his features.

John looked at you in pure awe, he moved one hand to touch you cheek and lightly rubbed it with the back side of his hand. He'd often think to himself how lucky he got to be with such a sweet and loving person like you.

You reach behind you and grab a box of grape mentats, opening it and taking one out.

"Open" you softly said with a small reassuring smile.

Hancock did what he was told and slightly opened his mouth and moved his tongue out a bit. You place the pill and slightly smirk as you can see a bit of blush on the ghouls scared face. John swallows the pill and kisses you, grabbing his waist pulling him even more closer if that's even possible.

He hummed in pleasure as the pill started to work it's magic. You two pull apart and smile at eachother, you huff some jet and toss it in the same direction John tossed his.

"You are so beautiful sunshine. And this isn't the chems talking. You are perfect in everyway, even when we have difficulty periods in our relationship. I love you so much Y/N" John said in a low and quite voice but loud enough so you'd hear him.

"I love you so much too John, my handsome and charming ghoul" you give him a big smile while giggling a bit and kiss him.

You lick his lips with you tongue asking for entrance and he gives it too you. Slipping your tongue and overpowering Hancock's tongue wasn't hard at all. Quite little moans could have been heard escaping John's mouth as the sensation of your dominance and the chems combined made him experience sweet pleasure.

Hancock secretary really loves it when you're dominant, even when kissing. He has told you it before (after a lot of asking from you because he was too embarrassed and flustered to say) but didn't mention it that it was a turn on when you did it while kissing.

He cups your face with both hands and you softly grab his ass. Even though the both of you weren't completely hammered yet the chems it still made you both a bit sloppy when making out.

A few hours later and the both of you were in your shared bed, both shirtless and a few calmex, jet's and grape mentats being emptied, high out of your minds.

You both knew that the side affects after the bender were going to be a pain to get though but ever once in awhile it's worth it. Both of you are cuddling, slowly and sloppily kissing eachother. John's hands moving all around your body and yours rubbing/periodically squeezing his thigh.

Everything felts like it was going slowly, both of you senses being heighten making you feel absolute bliss.

"This is probably the best high/bender I've ever had. Especially because it's with you sunshine... hehehe I bet that sounds cheese" John spoke looking down a bit with a small smile.

"It's really sweet my love and the same applies to me. This bliss combined with your bliss is just... I actually don't have words for it. It's that good" Y/N tried to form a coherent sentence while putting one hand under the ghoul's chin so he'd be looking as you spoke.

The both of you moan loud as the chems kicked a bit more. You both go back to touching eachother so you both wouldn't go mad of the lack of physical affection. When you are on your benders you both absolutely need physical affection from the other. It makes the high a lot more enjoyable and your hunger for touch it satisfied.

The hours flew, by four in the morning you both were passed out in each others arms and sleeping as long as possible. Or until Fahrenheit got concerned woke the both of you up.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

2K Event Prompt Masterlist

Here is a list of all the prompts for my 2K Celebration Event! I'll be updating as I go with the links, so you should be able to click on any of them once it's fully completed 😊

Please be sure to pay mind to the ratings of each work as well, and to the details on the prompts themselves once you click on the links so that you're mindful of any saucy explicit material!

Thank you all, and I hope you enjoy! 😁

A: Arcade Gannon -- Fluff -- SFW

B: Benny Gecko -- Fluff -- SFW

C: Charon -- Fluff -- NSFW

D: Deacon -- Hurt/Comfort -- SFW

E: ED-E -- Fluff -- SFW

F: Fawkes -- Fluff -- SFW

G: Gob -- Fluff -- SFW

H: Mr. House -- Hurt/Comfort -- SFW

I/O: Old Longfellow -- Hurt/Comfort -- NSFW

J: John Hancock -- Fluff -- NSFW

K: The King -- Hurt/Comfort -- SFW

L: Lily Bowen -- Fluff -- SFW

M: Mysterious Stranger -- Angst -- SFW

N: Nick Valentine -- Fluff -- NSFW

P: Preston Garvey -- Hurt/Comfort -- SFW

Q/U/X: Ulysses -- Fluff -- SFW

R: Raul Tejada -- Hurt/Comfort -- NSFW

S: Sunny Smiles -- Hurt/Comfort -- SFW

T: Three Dog -- Fluff -- NSFW

V: Veronica Santangelo -- Hurt/Comfort -- SFW

W: Whitechapel Charlie -- Angst -- SFW

Y/Z: Yes Man -- Hurt/Comfort -- SFW

[hanckocks-dagger]

Shake, rattle, and roll

masterlist

John Hancock x f!reader

Description: After three weeks on the road, you come home to Goodneighbor to find a sweet surprise from Hancock. Naturally, you fuck him about it. 

Tags: Such sappy smut guys, holy shit theyre in love, Hancock is a simp. Reader could be viewed as SoSu or not, no y/n, female anatomy

Warnings: smut! Pretty vanilla though, honestly, so nothing else to mention

Word count: 6K

Cross posted on my ao3

The last day of travel was always the worst; with the end goal in sight

The morning sun beat down on you, the trek from Lexington having seemed almost endless. There was only one thing on your mind as you marched over the Harvard bridge; Hancock's bed. You had the full intention of crawling right into it and staying there, comatose, for several days.

Of course, it wasn't quite that simple. You needed to unload the spare weapons you'd picked up, throw those to KL-E-0. You also had some things to drop at Daisy's, some things to pass on to Ham for the Third Rail...

You pulled your pack higher onto your shoulders, ignoring the ache of your back from the weight of it, all the junk you'd decided to ferry back with you. The straps of the bag were sure to leave deep, painful indents in your skin, almost permanently rubbed raw after weeks of travel.

Downtown, you skirted between Diamond City outposts, making your usual wide berth around the city itself. Despite being human and technically welcome inside the city, you'd taken to avoiding it, as if their prejudice was infectious. You hadn't entered the gates in months by now, and even though you missed Power Noodles and stopping by the agency to bother Nick, you felt no real urge to step inside.

The inhabitants' paranoia, towards the institute and towards outsiders, made the air in the city oppressive. Compared to the freedom of Goodneighbor, even with all of its own problems, Diamond City felt tyrannical in comparison.

You made a wide berth around the old scrap yard, overrun by feral dogs, climbing a fire escape to reach the elevated turnpike.

The closer you got to Goodneighbor, the hard it was to push forward. With the end in sight, close enough that you could practically count the steps you had left, aware of every finite amount of energy you had to eke from your body. Still, you reused to break, pushing forward, hands wrapped tight around the straps of your pack, like a schoolchild with their brightly colored schoolbag

Just a little further. Just a little more. The turnpike turned North, and you had to duck and pause as some gunner scouts passed, the highway connected to some high-rises, precarious wooden planks forming bridges.

Crouched down low, your calves burned, your fingers ached as you gripped your revolver, checking the bullet count on autopilot and lining up a shot, just in case you were spotted.

You weren't, the mercenaries passing from one end of the bridge to the other, wood creaking under their weight, loud, unconcerned conversation passing between them.

You sneaked past them in a crouch, knees and back protesting, familiar flood of adrenaline humming through your blood, heartbeat in your ears. The thrill stayed even once you were out of eyesight, until you'd shaken out your joints and rolled your shoulders, back to your brisk pace.

One of these days, you promised yourself, zeroing in on the broken jaw of the freeway that you used to find your bearings, you'd find a way to make a portable Ham-radio. Staying away so long was making you half-insane. You hadn't heard his voice in over two weeks, and at this point you would have sold all the loot you were lugging around to see his face a few minutes sooner. You'd pay insane sums to be able to hear him on the regular while you were away. Joking, complaining, hell, even just reading off his fucking caravan logs.

The body of the freeway dropped to the ground, crumbling concrete surrounding a Gunner camp, probably the one those two idiots earlier were supposed to be protecting. Well, you thought, pulling a trip-mine from your pack, it wasn't your fault if they were fucking morons.

Behind the rusted body of a truck, you waited for the perfect moment to strike, listening with patience to the Gunners as they yelled and laughed, carefree in the way only over-confident assholes ever could be. On a different day, you would have attacked with something more complicated, something that could blast the entire camp in one go, but today, you were tired and homesick.

At the right moment, you activated the mine and tossed it, scurrying from behind your car to drop off the side of the freeway, landing in a crouch in an alley a street over from Goodneighbor, booking it as the mine went off and the yells changed from happy to panicked.

You'd often thought, as you and Hancock laid spread eagle on the bed, or sprawled over the couch, that between the two of you, you were by far the one more likely to turn feral. He was too clever, his mind too sharp, even dulled by drugs. You were the one running around the wasteland, scampering like some little creature, hoarding old-world junk, killing nearly indiscriminately. You survived on the high of your own adrenaline, surviving scrapes by the skin of your teeth, by clawing, biting, crushing, choking.

You held your breath until you could see the glow of the welcome-sign, neon arrow pointing at the door, like to the entrance of a dingy nightclub. It shone like a beacon even in the daylight, beckoning you home.

When your fingers touched the door, you swore you gained a second wind, the eerie stillness of downtown Boston turning into the hum of bustling Goodneighbor residents. You greeted the Neighborhood watch as you entered the town, and they variously tipped caps or winked at you, hands always on their guns.

Daisy's was full, the sure sign of a newly passed caravan. You spotted that Railroad guy, sipping from a bottle on the bench in front of the store, doing his usual job of completely failing to fit in by being almost unnaturally nondescript. That might work in Diamond city, but not in Goodneighbor.

Your steps were slow as you maneuvered through the crowd, aware of the pack on your back and the guns slung over your shoulders. You headed for Kill or Be killed, planning to unload some ammo and spare rifle you'd picked up. You kept your eyes peeled for that flash of red in your periphery, the heat that filled your chest whenever you were near him.

KL-E-0's store was empty, meaning she was probably on the second floor, conducting some less than savory business. You'd hustle out of there if you heard the sound of her laser powering up, but you decided to spare a few minutes.

You leaned your forearms onto the counter, taking some of the weight off your sore feet and back, eyes running over the visible apparel, wondering what things you should offload.

Sure enough, barely a minute passed before you could hear the wood creaking above you, footsteps descending the staircase and an achingly familiar voice:

"-Talk when my girl brings something new, call it a uh- personal favor."

You raised your head from where it had been lolling, that familiar voice sending a sweet ache through your chest and a giddy smile onto your face. His girl.

Hancock was turned away from you, speaking to KL-E-0, trusty shotgun in his hands.

If your pack had been lighter, you would have bounded into his arms and dragged him right back to the old State House. You would have indulged the exhibitionist in him, wrapped your legs around his waist and let him stick his tongue down your throat right there in the street.

Instead, though, you settled for walking over, supporting the bottom of your pack to keep it from rattling. KL-E-0's red eye flickered over to you for a moment, inscrutable as always, but she stayed quiet, allowing you to surprise Hancock as he chattered about the recoil of his gun.

You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, smushing your face between his shoulder blades. You breathed him in, the familiar smell of tanned hide, cigarettes and that ever present old-museum-smell that he'd tried many times in vain to get rid of. You inhaled with a shudder, pressing a kiss to his back, feeling his momentary frozen shock melt away as he seemed to register who was touching him.

He spun in your arms, leaving you face to face with soft eyes and a softer smile, a hand coming up to cup your cheek.

Warm lips pressed to yours and you melted arms sliding up to hook around his shoulders, pulling him flush to you. A corner of your mind– or your heart– which had spent the past two weeks growling about being apart from him, finally quieted down.

"Is that your gun digging into my hip, or are you just happy to see me, love?" He asked you when you separated, leaving you to snort and hide your face in his shoulder, so giddy you thought you might burst with it.

You swallowed past your joy, composing yourself so that you could lean back and flick the tip of Hancock's tricorn-hat upwards, giving you a better view of those lovely dark eyes, always so emotive, crinkled at the corners.

"Good to see you too, Mister Mayor," You breathed, hands sliding from his shoulders down to his waist, backing out of KL-E-0's store, dragging Hancock along with you. He came willingly, not allowing even an extra inch between the two of you.

All thoughts of bartering, even your own body's complaints were forgotten, your heart singing. You blinked against the sunlight, convinced suddenly that the weather was reflecting your mood.

"What's your plan for the day?" You asked, when it became clear Hancock was too busy staring at you to say anything. The two of you seemed to be wandering in a leisurely pace towards the old State House, but you didn't care where you were going. You'd follow him around all day if you had to. You could be going right back into the Wastes for all you cared. You'd trail behind him as he did whatever he needed to do, collapse from exhaustion and let him carry you back to bed.

"Oh, you know," He said, pulling you up the steps to the Old State House, opening the door for you, ushering you inside, "Was gonna get high and mope around all day, waiting for you." He had no sooner shut the door than he grabbed you by your belt, pinning you to the wall, your heavy pack hitting the wall. "Probably drive Fahrenheit crazy with my pining–"

You hum, smoothing out the lapels of his coat as his hands wander.

"Now, I'm thinking we go up and let the whole town we're reunited."

"Sounds perfect," You agreed, pressing a kiss to his jaw before pushing him gently in the direction of the staircase. He led the charge, half toppling over every step in his desperation not to let go of you.

The second you hit the landing he whisked you back into his arms again, hands restless as he squeezed your sides, traveled up your arms, touched your face, all before coming right back down again to squeeze your ass. Another breathy laugh escaped you, so happy you couldn't put your smile away even as you kissed him.

His hand slid up to your lower back, guiding you towards the bedroom, your lips still locked together.

you pulled away at the door as Hancock filled with the stubborn doorknob, always jammed right when you needed it to open. You keep your arms hooked around him, but you give a salute to the neighborhood watchman stationed in front of your door. His face stayed stoic, either used to yours and Hancock's antics, or from copious threats from Hancock. Both seem equally likely.

He did give you a nod, though, as Hancock crooned in victory, having managed to fling the doors open. You gave him a smile, right as Hancock grabbed your arms and pulled you in. You kicked the doors shut behind you, already laughing as Hancock showered your face with kisses, dipping you like a dancer.

You separated from him enough to finally drop your pack, which thumps to the floor. Your guns come off, placed down with more care, followed by your bandolier and scavenging jacket.

Hancock cracked the doors open as you busied yourself, calling out, "Make sure to keep all the riff-raff out today, yeah brother?" And then the doors were shut and locked. A peaceful quiet descending over you.

He takes your hands, pulling you to the center of the bedroom, leaving you bathed in afternoon sunlight peeking in from the open balcony door. The room was as clean as it ever was, five hundred years of grime that you'd long given up on trying to get rid of.

With the door open and the spring air flooding in, everything felt fresher, not weighed down by centuries of history, but just a normal bedroom. Your books had been stacked in neat piles on the dresser, where you could see one of your shirt sleeves peeking out from the drawer. The bed was newly made, and....

"Is that..?" You stared, taking in the sharp white color of the fresh sheets, looking brand fucking new. Not Commonwealth new either, no, this looked like the bleached and pressed sheets of a fucking prewar hotel.

Your eyes sought out Hancock's, expecting to find him grinning, boastful, the usual exaggerated ego coupled with his general cool-demeanor, but instead you found him looking... uncertain. One hand rubbing the back of his neck like he was... bashful.

"Where did you get this?" You asked, stepping over to the bed. You ran a hand almost irreverently over the fresh sheets, feeling the starched, crisp texture of it, not rotting and mildewed like almost everything was.

"Oh, a uh– new trade caravan passed through last week. From somewhere out west, they've been growing cotton and weaving shit.

As if in a trance, you started shucking off your clothes, not wanting to sully the fresh sheets with your blood and dirt stained layers. You only get as far as your outer shirt when Hancock's hands sneak back onto your waist, almost timid in their touch. You half wanted to slap them off in your urge to get naked, get under the sheets and let him touch you there all he wanted.

Instead, you spin around to face him, guide his hands under your shirt to the warm skin of your stomach. "You're an angel, you know that?" You said.

He laughed, "Only for you, sister. Devil to everyone else."

You laughed back at him, finally shedding your shirt. As you try to wrestle off your boots with the force of your heel, all the examples to the contrary fly into your head: Every kind action he'd done, every willingly shared drug, every situation where he'd chosen less violence than he needed to. The nights you'd spent watching him agonize over whether he was good enough for his community, whether he was making the right decisions.

Instead of bringing those up, you pecked his lips in thanks. With his 'help' (groping), you got your undershirt and bra off, leaving your torso bare.

You leant down to unlace your boots, your earlier attempts having been futile, but before you could Hancock had you off your feet, tossing you head first into soft, fresh sheets. He took over, hands trailing teasingly over the waistband of your pants before he turned to your boots, sliding them off and taking your socks with them.

You groaned, cheek smushed into the mattress, as nimble hands pull your pants down and off. Trailing fingers, tickling the backs of your naked calves, up into the hollow of your knees. You had to stifle a giggle as a feather light touch against your inner thigh made you jump.

The bed shifted as he climbed onto it, his legs bracketing yours, knees pressing into the flesh of your thighs.

Fingers on the waistband of your underwear.

"How about we get these off?" His voice, low and gravelly, suddenly hot in your ear. A gentle bite to the cartilage of your earlobe, the drag of fabric as your underwear was pulled down your legs and then tossed somewhere.

"You know," You breathed, raising yourself onto your elbows so you could crane your neck and tried to catch him in a kiss. You missed, but settled for kissing his shoulder, hovering just by your head. "I'm feeling a bit exposed here. You've stripped me bare and you're still clothed."

You turned underneath him, determined to get him to kiss you again, were met with his grinning face just above yours. "Well, let no one call me an unfair man," He said, sinking onto his haunches, just out of reach of your desperate mouth. He plucked his tricorn from his head, settled it onto your.

You raised yourself to him, stole a quick peck, languishing in every brush of his lips against yours. It was dangerous, how much you'd missed him on the road, pining to the point of distraction. The times you'd ducked into buildings to ease an ache brought on by reminiscing, imagining him besides you, or on you, or in you. Imagining him being beside you as you stumbled into firefights, imagined his hands patching you up, rather than your own.

"You didn't happen to remember to take any Rad-X this morning, didya?"

His words pulled you from your stewing. You groaned. In your excitement to get home, you'd completely forgotten.

"Can't we just... skip it? This once?" You asked, pulling on his collar, dragging him down to lie on top of you, his mouth in reach again. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, hooking one leg around his waist to ground him to you, keep him from getting distracted.

"You and I both know you'd regret that in the morning, sister."

He was right, the bastard. Spending your morning throwing up, hooked to a Rad-Away was not your ideal first day back. So, lamentably, you release your grip on him, hands and leg flopping to the side as he leant over to grab a bottle from the nightstand.

"I'm sure we can find something to... entertain you, while we wait for it to kick in."

You pouted, making a show of how frustrating his interruption had been, how desperate you were to get him back. Here you were, naked, spread-eagle and waiting, with patience you didn't have.

You watched, silently, as he dug into the bottle, drawing out two pills. As he stepped back over, you pulled yourself back onto your elbows, waiting for him to hand them over, or maybe deposit them into your mouth himself.

Instead, as he kneeled onto the bed, he put them into his own mouth, leaning over you to meld his lips to yours. You grabbed at him, feeling his arms wrap around your waist to support your weight as you melted in his arms. Slowly, in long, deep, searing kisses, the pills moved from his mouth to yours. Once they were on your tongue, he pulled his mouth off yours, scarred lips shining with spit, and moved to your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin as you gather enough saliva to swallow the pills.

Rad-X was quick to kick in, but the effects weren't instantaneous, leaving the pair of you with at least ten minutes to kill. On a normal day, you would have been happy to spend those minutes making out, taking your time in stripping Hancock off his clothes, egging each other on with dirty words and dangerous fantasies. But you'd spent over three weeks away from Goodneighbor, over three weeks of precarious mental foreplay, dreaming of his touch at night, fantasizing of him in the day. Suddenly, even the prospect of radiation sickness was not enough of a reason to stay away.

You tore at his coat, rucking his frilly shirt out from under his sash, exposing his slim stomach. You watched the muscle there tense under your touch, as you ran cold hands over his hips, tugging him closer to you. With practiced hands, you made quick work of untying the sash at his hips, satiny fabric sliding from your fingers and onto the floor like a waterfall.

Hancock bit into the flesh of your shoulder, making you hiss and dig your nails into the skin by his hip bones in retaliation.

You pull his chin upwards, leading his mouth to yours again, keeping those teeth from doing any more damage just yet.

Your generous hands wandered, up and under his shirt, roaming over the breadth of his chest, feeling it expand as he inhaled. You nipped at his bottom lip, drawing out a rumbling groan, felt both in your mouth against his, and in the vibrations against your fingertips.

You scooted to the edge of the bed, bracketing his hips with your thighs, freeing his hands so you could tug his coat off. Your hands slipped up under his collar, pushing his narrow shoulders backwards, giving you enough leverage to push the heavy coat backwards, the heavy fabric thumping to the ground.

Sometimes, when Hancock looked particularly vulnerable, usually collapsed on one of his couches, bleary with the haze of jet, his outfit reminded you of a child playing dress-up. In ancient coat tailored for a man with broader shoulders, a hat fit for a pirate and a disdain for the sort power he wielded.

You pulled your lips off of his, formulating a plea that would get you what you wanted, what words would make him understand just how badly you  ached for him, just how unbearable the emptiness in you was. You pressed a chaste kiss to his sternum, bare but hiding in the ruffles of his shirt, and made a blind grab for the waistband of his pants, words suddenly elusive.

His hands stopped yours, stilling them just by the button on his pants, so close to their goal.

You whined, the sound almost entirely involuntary, tilting your head up to meet Hancock's gaze with your own, sure now that he was teasing you.

"John," You managed, "This is cruel."

His eyes crinkled, as if you were the one making the joke, as if you weren't the one burning from the inside out.

"Well, now, I can't have you destroying my reputation. I worked hard to be known as a generous lover."

"Then stop teasing and fuck me."

But he only snickered like a bawdy teenager, gentle hands guiding yours to grasp at the fresh sheets. You watched helplessly, heartbeat in your throat, as he stepped back, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows before sinking to the floor in front of you, guiding your legs over his shoulders.

"This'll coast you over, sister."

He grabbed you by your thighs, tugging you closer until you could feel his breath on your [core]. Your thighs trembled, heels digging into his back, desperate to push him closer, to get his mouth where it needed to be.

Your eyes were squeezed shut, hands balled into fists, half convinced you would burst into tears if he didn't do something. You swore you could feel him laugh, right up against your pussy, unable to hear it over the rush of blood in your ears, a split second before his tongue was finally, mercifully, on you. The slick drag of it landing quickly on your clit, lapping at it teasingly, every strike on your nerves making you seize, already so worked up from being near him.

You cursed on an exhale, lungs burning, every nerve in your body sparking, your blood heating. There was an obscene slurping as he sucked hard against your clit, pressure just on the right side of pain, his fingers digging into your thighs.

Your head pushed hard into the mattress, Hancock's hat falling into your eyes, rendering the outside world suddenly dark.

Suddenly, all pressure vanished, making you let out a long, pitiful whine, releasing your death grip on the sheets to raise the hat and see what the ghoul would be torturing you with this time. You raised your head, found Hancock on his knees by the bed, looking at you with pure reverence, fingers running up and down over the plush, soft skin of your inner thighs.

You could feel the way his ministrations had spread your juices, the way the skin at the meet of your thigh and pelvis were glued together, sticky, pulling at your pubic hair just enough to be uncomfortable.

"What are you starin' at?" You panted, trying to get his wandering mind back to the matter at hand.

He grinned up at you from his perch, "What do you think?"

Fingers, crawling slowly, teasingly, up your thigh, into the divot where leg meets hip, tickling. Then, slow, gentle strokes through your pussy lips, scooping up all your wetness. A teasing, fleeting touch across your clit, making you seize, arching off the bed with a whine.

Then, the slick, slow glide of those fingers inside you.

"F-Fuck," You huffed, meaning to say something more like 'fucking finally, you torturer'.

"Such a pretty girl for me," Hancock says, that sly purr sending its own spark up your spine, mixed with his fingers, a slow, tantalizing in and out, "Been thinking about you for  days,  love. All alone out there, with no one to help you out. Running back home, to me, to let me help."

His fingers stilled. You clenched around him, every muscle in your legs seizing, your chest heaving.

"Is that what you were doing?" His voice was delicious, closer now. There's a bite into the flesh of your stomach, just above your belly button and you tensed against it, squirming into his fingers.

"Yes," You breathed, grinding hard onto his fingers, willing something, anything, to put pressure on your clit. You try squeezing your legs together, but Hancock's arm is in the way. A pathetic whimper escapes you.

"Wanna tell me about it, sister?"

You get out a "Please," legs moving restlessly, trying to get him to do anything, go in our out, anything at all. Blindly, you reach out and get him by the back of the neck, trying to push him downwards. You can feel his smile against the skin of your hip.

"Nngh- mmm, yes, I thought of you. Every day I was away." His head sunk lower, chin resting on your pelvis. "Thought about this, or sharing a hit of jet, or letting you pour wine into my mouth."

His mouth found your clit again, and you were sure you could cry, feeling his tongue flicking at the little nub, fingers starting to move again, a slow, languid in and out.

You arched off the bed, hands gripping the back of Hancock's head, legs going over his shoulders, pressing into his back.

"Shit," You breathed, one hand shifting to grab his forearm. The pressure on your clit increased suddenly, sending a spark through you that left you limp. Your hands slid from their grips, spilling onto the bed.

You looked down, finding Hancock's eyes on you. Then, he twisted his fingers in a way you didn’t recognize increasing the suction on your clit until you felt like he was trying to give you a hickey. You gasped, fingers digging hard into the bed, fabric rustling in your palms, hips snapping upwards, further into his mouth.

"Wait, that felt– do it again," You panted, to which he happily obliged, tongue and fingers twisting in a way that lit a spark in your body, like the strike of a lighter. A few more repeated movements and you moaned, probably loud enough to wake the drifters in the attic. Hancock's free hand wandered up the bed, catching one of yours in his own with a gentle squeeze. A moment so sappily romantic it managed to push you over the edge, your orgasm cresting over you like a warm wave.

Slowly, with a few extra nips to your inner thigh, Hancock sat back. Face wet with you, mouth curved up into a smile. You squeezed your legs together, shading your clit from the open air, chest heaving as you recovered from over stimulation.

"Get up here, please," You called, voice languid, hands reaching out to embrace him, crush him to you, hold him there forever. He obliged, crawling up against you, the texture of his pants against your naked thighs sending goosebumps across your skin. He slotted perfectly into your arms, pressing his mouth to yours.

You ached for him, wanting to get him closer, to tangle with him until you were impossible to separate. You kissed him like you were starving, all teeth and desperation, hands moving to shove off his vest, to unbutton his shirt, to get him naked, get him closer. He helped you, tossing the vest and then the shirt to the floor, warm chest pressing to yours, your tits trapped between the two of you, his rough skin grazing against your nipples, heat building behind your sternum.

Between your bodies, you felt his hand work at his pants. You were pressed so close together that every fumble grazed against your core, sending shocks of heat through you. You were so overwhelmed with need you couldn't decide where to put your hands, sure you'd be more of a hindrance than a help if you tried to get involved.

He made quick work of it, tugging down his pants, followed by his underwear.

He lined himself up, your excitement mounting until you were sure you would come again the second he entered. He captured your lips in another searing kiss, and finally your hands moved without you having to think about it, settling low on his hips in an effort to drive him closer.

"Ready?" He asked, and you felt your mind flash back to your first time with him, a rushed affair after a night drinking with him at the Third Rail. Even then, as it was a desperate fumble to get naked as fast as possible, spread over the couch in his office, clawing and biting with ferality, both of you desperate to get closer, even then, he had paused, hands on your panties, and asked, in that same soft tone, if you were ready, as if he expected you to have changed your mind.

"Yeah, I'm ready," You breathed, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation.

It's a slow, slick, delicious glide that has both of you groaning. Something in you slots into place, all your frenetic energy calm, as you grip at Hancock's back, burying your face in his neck as he starts to move.

"God, that's so–" you gasped, unable to finish, unsure of the words. You hitched a leg up onto John's waist, dragged him in for another kiss.

His pace was achingly slow, his touches sickeningly sweet. You focused on the fullness of it, the way the glide and drag of it seemed to fill your lungs even as he stole your breath with his tongue.

You wanted to live in this moment forever, here with him, inseparable in every way, as close as you could be. Hancock's hips drove deep, making you arch your back with a gasp for air, his lips vanishing off yours. The pace stayed sweet, sentimental, and you relished every sound that came from his mouth, every trembling breath.

"Wait," you breathed, tapping his shoulder like a time out, "Lemme, ugh–" With a few moves, you've twisted the two of you around, him on his back, you supporting yourself over him. He looked up at you, eyes twinkling with pure adoration, as you settled yourself with your legs under you, hands moving to his chest so you can keep your balance.

You settled yourself down onto his cock, your hips flush with his, and his hands found your waist, squeezing with that same softness. You set a pace, still calm, but decidedly faster, enough that your tits jiggle as you move.

"If this is some fucked up hallucination," Hancock rasped, voice choked, "I swear I'll lay off the drugs."

You laughed, breathless, grinding down to find that perfect spot inside you, hitting it over and over again, until the pleasure of it turns the inside of your eyelids white and your hands buckle, give out.

Arms caught you, of course, Hancock flipping you back over, managing to land that sweet spot again, enough that the tension spreads across your body, every muscle tensing up as you moaned, inches away from your second orgasm. His fingers on your clit do the trick, a few tight circles and the tension suddenly seeps out of you, a long, silent exhale. He fucked you through it, pace slowing down as you catch your breath.

You lean up to capture his lips again, grinding your hips to meet his thrusts, encouraging him to speed it up, to chase his own pleasure, relishing in the way his pace grows frantic, sloppier.

He gripped your wrists, bringing them over your head, held tight in his hands. Your torso lengthened, chin tilting upwards, exposing the length of your neck to him. He pulled away from your mouth so you take the chance, craning your neck upwards to nip at his skin, finding the soft tendons and sucking hard.

Through gasping breaths, he asked, "Where– nngh– where do you want me?" Your legs tightened around him, hands clawing at his back, using all the strength you had to keep him where he was.

Already, you can feel the way your own pressure is building back up, the way the repeated slide of it drives you right back to the edge.

"In– in me," You gasped, muscles shaking as he managed to hit that perfect spot in you over and over, back arching clean off the bed. You still weren't ready to let him go, even as you neared your third orgasm, still desperate to keep him where he was.

"Are you–"

"John," You cried, his hips slowing as he stopped again to check, your welfare always at the front of his mind. Sure, it would leave you raw and burning, making the next round a bit more pain than pleasure, but all you could think about was keeping the sensation of him imprinted on you as long as possible. "I'm sure, please."

He rutted against you, hips grinding against yours. His head dropped to your shoulder, gasping against your sweat slicked skin, two fingers sliding down against your throbbing clit.

You whimpered against him as pleasure flooded your body again, your grip on him weakening as your muscles shook, legs slipping from around his waist.

You mumbled words of praise as he came, hands roaming around his back, onto his cheek, your whispers of, "So good, so perfect, you're perfect, baby," audible only to him as he moaned. You felt the heat of him inside you, the slow building of fullness even as he softened.

You felt the slow, familiar tingling that preceded the lightly burning pain that would start. You felt Hancock shifting out of you, his mouth twisted into a guilty frown in the skin of your shoulder.

You clenched, feeling the slow dribble of heat spilling onto your skin.

Hancock's lips traced a path across your shoulder, down your arm, the occasional wet smack or nip at your skin pausing his journey. He detached himself from you slowly, regretfully, as if taking his skin off yours was some great sin. And it was, but in the service of a greater good, grabbing a clean strip of cloth from the bedside drawer, cleaning you up in gentle caresses, stickiness removed from your inner thighs, even softer touches over your pussy lips.

You let him busy himself, even as your fingers itched to get him back, wanting to tell him that you'd had worse pain, that you'd hurt for him every second if you had to. Instead, you only smiled at him when he glanced up at you, reaching up to pull him back to you. He came willingly as you pulled him back into your arms.

Tension faded out of your muscles and you melted into the bed, hands wrapped around Hancock's middle. "Did you miss me while I was gone?" You asked, smiling, voice soft. You just wanted to hear him say it, your own little version of 'I love you'.

Hancock raised his head, pecking your lips gently, leaving them tingling.

"More than you could ever know," He said, painfully earnest.

"Mmm, I think I have some idea."

Notes:

The smut chapter took me ages to write for some reason, so if it sucks... uh. No it doesn't (if u see any spelling errors pls let me know tho)

Thanks for reading! Please leave me a comment, or request something, or just come chat with me!

[thewl-rpg]

Bienvenidos a la ciudad de los vientos.

Una ciudad enorme que acoge a propios y extraños, que genera un entorno de seguridad y pertenencia, escondiendo entre sus ventiscas historias que pueden, o no ser contadas. Para saber lo que susurran los vientos de Chicago tendrás que adentrarte en la ciudad y descubrir cada uno de sus secretos, pero tienes que escoger un bando.

Los primeros rayos del sol suelen reflejarse en el extenso lago Michigan y en los rascacielos que perfilan el paisaje de Chicago. La Ciudad de los vientos, despierta día a día trayendo consigo el aroma del café recién hecho y el sonido lejano de las sirenas de los taxis, mezclándose con el murmullo de la multitud que existe en una de las ciudades más grandes de Norte América.

La ciudad cobra vida llena de promesas y oportunidades, su arquitectura impresionante rodea cada paso, con la imponente  Willis Tower alzándose como un faro de acero y vidrio, su icónico John Hancock Center susurra historias de tiempos pasados y futuros por descubrir. Conocida por sus inviernos rigurosos se transforma en un paisaje de ensueño en invierno con sus nevadas, cubriendo las calles y parques de un manto blanco mientras sus luces navideñas suelen iluminar las noches frías, creando una atmósfera mágica pero es su primavera que trae un renacimiento con los parques llenándose de flores y árboles de un verde vibrante mientras que su verano ofrece días cálidos y perfectos para disfrutar de las playas del lago Michigan y los numerosos festivales al aire libre.

Sus universidades: la prestigiosa Universidad de Chicago y la renombrada Northwestern University ofrecen una educación de clase mundial en entornos inspiradores. Los estudiantes caminan por sus históricos campus inmersos en un ambiente de aprendizaje y descubrimiento pero también rodeados de rivalidad, competencia y secretos de los que es imposible quedarse fuera.

Chicago, combina lo mejor de la vida urbana con una belleza natural impresionante y una oferta educativa y cultural incomparable, un lugar donde cada día promete una nueva aventura y cada rincón cuenta una historia que está esperando a ser descubierta pero la pregunta es: ¿Estarás del bando correcto?.

[amberlynnmurdock]

New Love, New Haven

Chapter Fifteen: A Change of Heart

Pairing: Benjamin Tallmadge x Original Female Character

Summary: After the Battle of Lexington & Concord, things shift dramatically for Ben and Sadie.

Ao3 Link

The Battle of Lexington and Concord happened on April 19, 1775. The British army set out for Lexington in hopes of capturing Samuel Adams and John Hancock. Other British troops made their way to Concord, Massachusetts, to steal and destroy the rebels’ weapons. But before either plan could be played out, it was leaked to the rebels’ side, giving them ample time to prepare for defense. This battle kicked off the American Revolution and inspired more colonists to stand up to the British and fight for their freedom.��

April 1775 

Wethersfield

Ben Tallmadge stood outside the General Store, reading and re-reading the headline of today’s paper. 

AMERICAN SENTIMENTS FOLLOWING BATTLES OF LEXINGTON AND CONCORD; YOUNG MEN VOLUNTEERING TO FIGHT.

Something stirred in him—if it were possible for time to completely stop, then it certainly had for Ben at that moment as he continued to read the newspaper article about the bloody battle. It wasn’t the act of reading the headline itself that made him feel uncomfortable, but the fact that he agreed with the rebels. 

Well, perhaps discomfort wasn’t the word…but something along the lines of anticipation. Anticipation for what? He wasn’t exactly sure. 

Ben glanced around and looked at the hustling and bustling of people in Wethersfield, people paying no mind to the news he was reading about. And why weren’t they reading about it? Didn’t they care to see what happened to their brothers who fought in the battle and won? Didn’t they realize what this meant, what was about to happen in this country?

“Sickening, innit?” A man Ben didn’t know said aloud, reading the same headline. “Damned bottom-o-the-barrel men attacking the people who keep us safe. Shameful,” the old man spat on the ground. It was clear where his loyalties lay. Ben tensed his shoulders. This was strange territory to be in—suddenly uncertain how to act around people when topics like war are brought up. 

“It is terrible,” Ben utters, which isn’t untrue—war is bloody. And if this battle meant anything, it meant it wouldn’t be the last. Many men lost their lives for this one victory. One victory of many, many to be won. It’s terrible that impending war comes with a price. 

“Hopefully that’ll be the last and those rotten rebels will realize how much the King provides for us here,” the man spits again, shaking his head. Ben uses all his strength to not frown and gesture around the town—provide what exactly? Nearly all of the town has Red Coats living in other people's homes, taking more of the ration for food, and drinking their ale. What exactly is being provided for the people who live here? 

At first, these thoughts were merely just challenging the reality in which many colonists lived—but to see something like this battle take place, a glimmer of hope that no, we all don’t have to live this way, was invigorating—terrifying, and unclear. But, what if there were more of them than the Red Coats? These thoughts swarmed in Ben’s mind, more so in the past two years. 

Ben adjusted his satchel on his shoulder, wished the old man a good day, and was off on his way to school—itching to write to his dear friend, Nathan Hale. 

☆☆☆☆

Ben has been teaching the same group of boys since his first day at Wethersfield. They were all a bit more grown now, a little more mature, but all around the same fun as they were. No longer did Ben have to remind them to straighten their backs and have their ink and quill out. No longer did Ben have to settle them down from being rowdy.

“Good morning, everyone,” Ben announced as he walked into the school room and placed his bag on his chair. 

“Morning, Mr. Tallmadge,” they all said in unison. 

“I hope you all had a good evening and are ready for today’s lesson: Shakespeare. Please, pull out your books.”

The young men all ruffled through their bags and plopped their books on their desks. Ben turned around and began to write on the chalkboard the theme they’d be focusing on which was tragedies—a rather darker subject, but one that must be taught. Ben liked to start with the heavier topics before getting to the lighter ones. 

“Please turn to page 150 and read the first act of Hamlet,” Ben said, still facing the chalkboard. When he turned around, he saw all but one student reading the book. 

Joel, the youngest of the class, sat towards the back right of the room, quietly staring down at his empty desk. Ben furrowed his brows. 

“Young Joel?” Ben called. “Could you please bring out your book?”

Joel looked up from his desk, afraid to meet Ben’s eyes. Other kids started to get distracted from the conversation as they glanced up from the pages quickly.

“I don’t have it, sir,” Joel said quietly. 

“Oh,” Ben answered, “did you forget it?”

“No, I did not, sir.”

Ben sensed there was something Joel wasn’t telling him—it wasn’t like him to not have his book, and offer no good reason as to why. Well, if he didn’t forget it, then where was it? Ben made eye contact with a few distracted students and gave them a look that said focus. He walked quietly to where Joel sat and crouched to meet him at his level. 

“Joel,” Ben said gently, “Is everything all right? If you haven’t forgotten your book, then where is it?” When Ben met Joel’s brown eyes, it was then he saw how tired the young man looked—looking far more tired than any 10-year-old should. And now that he saw it, Joel didn’t even have his bag with him. 

“It was taken,” Joel said quietly, voice quivering. 

“Taken?” Ben questioned, “Someone stole it? Do you know who?”

“You know the battle that just happened, Mr. Tallmadge?” Joel asked, finally making eye contact with Ben. 

Ben shifted nervously, looking around at the other students to make sure they were focused on their reading and not their conversation. He nodded. “Yes.”

“The soldier staying in my house got very angry. He drank all the liquor in my father’s cabinet, bottles he’d been saving for a long time. He ruined everything in the house, and took my bag and ripped everything out,” Joel explained, his throat bobbing from keeping from crying. “I’m sorry, Mr. Tallmadge, all my work is ruined and the books you gave me are ripped apart.”

Ben’s mouth fell agape as Joel explained this to him. He felt a rush in his veins, a weight on his heart—and above all, rage. 

Ben clenched his fists behind his back. “Joel,” Ben said calmly, “are you safe at home?”

“As long as he doesn’t come back,” Joel whispered, “he was called by his officer to leave for Boston.”

“So the soldier isn’t staying at your house anymore?” Ben asked. 

“Not now,” Joel said. 

“Okay,” Ben nodded, “Good. Joel, I’m very sorry you had to witness something like that. If you need anything, please let me know. I can talk to your parents after today’s lesson. You can use my book for the time being,” Ben gently patted Joel’s back. “You don’t need to be sorry for anything.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Tallmadge,” Joel said quietly. “It’s been a horrid few weeks at home.” 

Ben pursed his lips. This wasn’t right. None of it. As he looked around the room of his students, he wondered who else was silently suffering, sharing space with a Red Coat in their home. 

For the first time, Ben wished it was the end of the day already. As his students continued to read, he sat down at his desk and began to write his letter to Nathan. 

☆☆☆☆

Middletown

Sadie Hale wandered the aisles of the local herbalist in town, gathering stems of lavender and garlic for the patients she and Genny were tending to. After two years of learning about healing, it was finally time for her and Genny to put what they’d learned to the test. It was humbling for Sadie to find out that healing was her true calling. 

It seemed her fears of being stuck in New Haven were not true at all. Moving to Middletown with Genny and her father was the best decision she could’ve made. New people, new places, and most of all, new learning opportunities. To be brief, Sadie was happy with her new life here without a parent looking over her shoulder and not a person she needed to ask if they wanted more ale. 

She even got to see Nathan occasionally, now that he was teaching in a town not so far from Middletown. When he and Genny weren’t spending nights together, Sadie was spending time with her brother, who still shared his notes with her and kept her up to date on his teachings. Sadie was happy to hear he continued to teach girls early in the morning. 

“I’ve told them about you,” Nathan gave a crooked smile to Sadie as she was preparing baskets for the early morning. “My youngest sister Sadie, who loves to learn and one day will be a teacher herself.”

“Oh, please,” Sadie laughed softly, “you have not.”

“I have!” Nathan said incredulously, “They need someone other than me to look up to, you know. An older woman who also loves to read and learn.”

“I am not that much older!” Sadie said in playful horror. 

“I know,” Nathan laughed, “You know what I mean. Older than them, at least.” 

“I’d love to come visit one day,” Sadie said with hope, “I’m not sure how that would work, but I’d love to.”

“You could be a guest speaker! It’ll be grand!” Nathan smiled brightly, bringing Sadie in for a side hug. 

Sadie smiled at the memory from not too long ago. She continued to walk the aisles of the shop when her mind drifted to Benjamin. 

Oh yes, Ben. Her best-kept secret. The thought of him brought a protective warmth throughout her chest and her heart leaped as she realized it was the weekend she would secretly be visiting him. 

With the help of Genny, who had to make runs for special herbs to Wethersfield occasionally, Sadie would come as her assistant—except, she wouldn’t stay or help Genny at all. She was dropped off at Ben’s small cottage on the way. 

It was like the early days in New Haven—Ben and Sadie seeing each other in secret. It was frowned upon for a young girl like Sadie to be seeing someone who wasn’t yet her husband—let alone staying in his house. Another thing was the Red Coats. They needed not to find out about Ben and Sadie. Especially the Ensign who stayed with Genny, her father, and Sadie in Middletown, who’s taken an uncomfortable liking to Sadie. 

When Sadie was done grabbing what she needed, she paid for the herbs and stepped outside, greeted with a warm breeze that hinted that May was around the corner. The warm, peaceful moment was quickly seized as a tall Red Coat in large brown boots stomped his way over. 

Ensign Williams, with his jet-black hair and to other ladies of the village would think is a dashing smile, walked right up to Sadie, who seemingly followed her from her home. 

“Ms. Hale, let me help you with your basket,” he offered, already reaching for it. Sadie pulled it quickly away. 

“It’s alright, Ensign Williams. I’ve got it myself,” she mustered a smile. 

“Oh please,” the Ensign said urgently, “I insist.” 

“It’s fine, really,” Sadie smiled nervously as Ensign Williams stepped in front of her, blocking her from walking forward. 

“It’s impolite to refuse help from a soldier, Ms. Hale,” Ensign Williams cocked an eyebrow. “After all, we do so much to protect your household. Especially after that wretched battle, those men think it’s such a victory. If anything, it has caused more money to be spent to help healour men.”

And what about our men, Sadie wanted to say. She flinched at how aggressively the Ensign was speaking to her. She nodded her head, hoping he was done with his tangent. Unfortunately, he wasn’t.

“You know, our army could use your help, if things go awry,” he said in a much softer, chilling tone. He placed his thumb on Sadie’s chin, and Sadie flinched again. 

“What are you so afraid of?” He said smugly, “I said we protect you. I protect you,” Ensign Williams caressed Sadie’s chin some more before he grabbed her basket. “Let me help,” he commanded. 

Sadie swallowed hard, feeling her heart hammer in her chest. Finally, he let go of her chin and began to walk Sadie home. He smiled at other people in the town, tipping his tricorn hat and wishing them all a good day—being otherwise pleasant and approachable. How can he easily fool everyone? Although she hated housing a red coat, Sadie missed the previous soldier they had staying—an older gentleman, who never bothered any of them.

Ensign Williams was insufferable, and more often than not Sadie felt unsafe in his presence. 

“You’re awfully quiet, Sadie,” Ensign Williams spoke up as they began to exit the center of town. “Don’t you have anything to say, to entertain?”

Sadie huffed softly, “Not really. I’m a bit tired.” She lied. 

“Tired? You didn’t look tired inside the herb shop,” Ensign Williams cocked an eyebrow.

“You followed me?” Sadie questioned. 

“It’s my job to protect the people of the house I’m staying in.”

“That doesn’t mean you follow them everywhere,” Sadie gently argued. The Ensign stopped in his tracks and grabbed Sadie’s left arm roughly. She gasped and met his dark eyes. 

“Should someone see you grabbing me like this, I’d think you’d be in trouble,” Sadie quickly said, her voice shaking. 

“Should they see me, they’d think you’d done something to provoke being grabbed. Now listen carefully,” the Ensign lowered his voice. “I don’t appreciate the way you speak to me when all I’ve offered is kindness and help. Should this continue, you’ll have to learn some new manners.” 

Sadie wanted to talk back, but she bit her tongue and held his cold stare. His fingers were deeply digging into her skin, squeezing. When he let go she hoped it wouldn’t leave a mark. 

The rest of the walk to the house was silent and awkward. Sadie stared at the ground and watched her feet take each step, when all of a sudden she heard the Ensign curse under his breath as they approached the house. 

“Christ,” he cursed, “What is he doing here?”

When Sadie looked up and saw General Howe standing with two other men, her heart dropped and then leaped at the same time—this could only mean one thing. 

“Ensign Williams,” General Howe greeted. When he saw Sadie next to him, his expression softened into a smile. “Ms. Hale.”

“Lovely to see you, General Howe,” Sadie smiled. “What brings you here? Should I heat up some tea?” Ensign Williams shot Sadie a suspicious look at her sudden hospitality. 

“Oh, we’d love to stay, but that won’t be necessary,” General Howe said, “I’ve come to collect Ensign Williams. I’m so sorry you’ll be absent a soldier in your home, especially after the recent battle. But I assure you, your home will be assigned a new soldier in no time, so you feel safer at night.” 

“Where are we off to, General? I would’ve hoped for a correspondence to let me know I’d be leaving,” Ensign Williams said in a controlled voice—unhappy with the surprise. 

“Well, speaking of the battle, we’ve been called to move further south to New Jersey. We’ll have to leave Connecticut for a short while. I’m afraid we must move quickly to meet the rest of the men at the harbor.” 

Sadie would jump with glee if she could—not only would it be less stressful around the house, but it would be much easier to leave with Genny tonight and see Ben. 

☆☆☆☆

Wethersfield

While Ben tidied up his abode for Sadie tonight, he couldn’t stop thinking about the battle, Joel, and the current state of affairs. He dusted his desk and straightened the chair. He lined his leather books against the wall and fluffed his pillow. No matter what he tried to focus on, his mind was occupied. He gasped when he realized he never finished his letter to Nathan earlier at the schoolhouse. Ben immediately drew his chair out and sat down. He ruffled in his bag for the letter and spread the paper out on his desk, continuing his thoughts from earlier today.  

Brother Nathan…

Ben began to question himself—should he be joining the cause? His job as a teacher is important right now, but what if he was capable of doing something even more important? What about the risks? 

Does Nathan remember those side conversations they’d had at Yale, about questioning why things were the way they were? And what about where Nathan is now? 

Was I in your condition, I think the more extensive service would be my choice. Our holy Religion, the honor of our God, a glorious country, and a happy constitution is what we have to defend.

Ben is startled from writing when he hears the clops of hooves on the gravel outside. Peeking through his window curtain, he sees a lit lantern on a horse carriage, and a hooded person hopping off the carriage. Soon enough, the carriage and horse are off and the lantern is blown out. 

When he hears the familiar pattern of knocks on the door, Ben opens it hurriedly and rushes Sadie inside, the cool night air of May briefly blowing in. Ben shuts the door and locks it as Sadie takes off her hood and places her basket on the floor. Before Sadie can even greet Ben, he’s already wrapping his arms around her frame and breathing in her scent. 

“Ben,” Sadie chuckles, melting into Ben’s warm embrace. He kept his eyes shut, imagining his worries and anxieties from today melting away, now that Sadie was here. 

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered into her neck. Sadie gently pushed him off so she could see him in the warm glow of his home. His blue eyes bore deeply into hers as he placed his hand on her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. Sadie turned into his palm and kissed him.

“I’ve missed you, too,” she says softly. Ben tilts her face up slightly and leans down to kiss Sadie’s lips. He lightly brushed his lips over hers before molding his lips on top, kissing her slowly. She wrapped her arms around his neck, which prompted Ben to lift her and carry her over to his bed. 

“Remember when you’d sneak into my room?” Sadie asked as she ran her fingers through Ben’s golden brown locks. He smiled down at her and nodded. “Now it’s me sneaking into your home.”

“You were always good at it,” Ben said softly. “But I can’t wait until the day we don’t have to be together in secret.”

Sadie sighed as she fell back into Ben’s pillow, lazily untying her lace corset. Ben prodded her fingers away and slowly untied them for her, watching her face carefully, wondering if she picked up on his subtle message. 

But she kept her eyes closed, a peaceful expression falling over her face. He wondered if she looked this peaceful at home, away from him—he hoped she did. Sadie deserved to feel content all the time, even if that weren’t possible. He smiled a little and continued to loop the lace out of each hole of her corset, her dress loosening. 

He first slowly ran her right sleeve all the way down to her elbow, Sadie’s skin forming goosebumps from the touch. Ben clenched his jaw at the sight and continued to Sadie’s left arm sleeve. When he slowly pulled down the sleeve to reach her elbow, he pulled back immediately as if he touched a hot iron. 

“Sadie,” Ben breathed, looking in horror at the red marks on her upper left arm. Sadie’s eyes shot open and realized what Ben was looking at—she’d completely forgotten about Ensign Williams grabbing her earlier today. “What happened?” 

Sadie sighed in exasperation. She knew that no matter what way she told the story, Ben would be very unhappy. 

“Do you promise not to get upset or worried?” 

“No,” Ben answered, examining Sadie’s arm in the dim light.

“It was the Ensign staying in our house,” Sadie said regretfully. Ben met her eyes in concern when she said this, a flash of anger brimming in his blue eyes. 

“A red coat did this to you?” Ben said with distaste, feeling his heart pound against his chest. “Christ! What—what have we allowed to happen?” 

“It’s fine,” Sadie tried to calm him down, running her hands over his shoulders. “It’s a long story. But the good news is that he’s not staying with us anymore. General Howe took him away to go to New Jersey because of the battle.”

Ben shook his head—nothing she could say would make him feel better that someone grabbed her like that, let alone a red coat. This, on top of everything he found out about Joel today, was beginning to be a lot for one day. 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Ben asked softly, rubbing his thumb over her bruise. Sadie sat up in his bed and placed her hands on either side of his face. 

“Yes,” she sighed, “now that I’m here with you.”

Ben’s lips turned into a half smile and Sadie caught him in a kiss. Recently, their nights spent together have been like this: not much talking in the beginning but more touching and kissing. Not only did they have to catch up on how each other had been since they last saw each other but it was that overwhelming longing and need for touch that had to be fulfilled, before anything. They were close enough now that so much was said from an embrace alone. 

Ben brushed Sadie’s hair with his fingers, gently tracing over the back of her neck. Sadie melted to his touch and closed her eyes. Two years had gone by and no more were they awkward when being intimate with each other—well, at least Sadie wasn’t awkward anymore. Two years taught her a lot. 

Her breasts were fully exposed in front of Ben and never has she felt more free to be like this with him. It just felt right and felt even better when he finally trailed down to cup each of them in his hands. Safe and secure is what she felt when she was with him. Ben slipped his arms around her waist now and gently laid her back down on his bed, peppering kisses over her collarbone. 

“A kiss for each day that’s passed since I last saw you,” Ben whispered against her skin. 

“Seven.” 

“Or so. Just in case, here’s five more.” Ben kissed her neck slowly and trailed his lips from her neck to her jaw, and finally to her lips. 

With more kisses, touching, and eventual lovemaking, the night ended with Sadie falling asleep in Ben’s arms—like it always did. 

☆☆☆☆

Sadie woke up to the sound of a spoon clinking on in a small metal pot. She was completely wrapped in Ben’s sheets, naked under the covers. She opened her eyes to see Ben sitting in front of the fireplace, warming up a cup of tea. 

“Good morning, Mr. Tallmadge,” Sadie stretched and yawned. Ben was wearing a loose tan shirt and breeches, hair still showing signs of just waking up as well. He placed his tea on the floor and met Sadie on his bed. 

“Good morning, Ms. Hale,” he smiled. 

“How did you sleep?”

“Very well. It’s hard to have a bad night’s sleep when you’re in bed with me.”

“I suppose there’s truth to that,” Sadie laughed, “I sleep better when I’m with you as well.”

“Do you want some tea? I made a fresh pot,” Ben said, already getting up to get her a cup. Sadie nodded anyway and decided to get out of bed with the covers still around her. Ben walked into the small kitchen connected to his room. 

Sadie looked around his small home—though she’d been her plenty of times, she still took her time to take it all in. The wooden panels, the dried flowers that sat in a vase by the window, his leatherbound books lined against the wall on his desk. Sadie walked over smiling to herself. Many of these books she recognized from when Ben lent them to her: Shakespeare, books on the constellations. 

Never one to invade privacy, Sadie saw he had an unfinished letter open on his desk. Normally she would move on, but when she saw the letter was addressed to Nathan, she couldn’t help but wonder what Ben had to say to him. 

She picked up the letter and smiled at the address: “Brother Nathan.” It warmed her heart that the two of them were still close and referred to each other as such. Even the silly nicknames they gave each other amused Sadie. 

It wasn’t until Sadie kept reading on that her smile began to fade, and her expression turned to worry and anger. Sadie read, and re-read, what Ben wrote to Nathan and the message that it implied. With all that was going on, obviously, tensions were higher than they had ever been, but never in her wildest imagination did Sadie think the outside world could directly affect her own and the people she loved. And here she was, reading a letter Ben wrote encouraging it. 

“Here’s your tea—“

“What is this?” Sadie shot as she held up the piece of paper. “What—what are you trying to say in this letter to my brother?”

“Sadie,” Ben began carefully, but she was already cutting him off.

“Are you truly trying to encourage my brother to enlist to fight in this war? If there ever will be one?” 

Ben placed the cup of tea on his desk and carefully glared at Sadie—he wasn’t sure if he was upset with himself for leaving it out or for Sadie reading it. 

“I’m not encouraging anything,” Ben said carefully. “I’ve been having thoughts myself and thought I would communicate them to my friend.”

“My brother,” Sadie retorted, “you’re encouraging him to enlist in an army for war. That’s—I can’t even wrap my mind around something like that. Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

“Sadie,” Ben walked over to her but Sadie took a step back. “Sadie, do you see what is happening out there? Of course, you do. Those men laid down their lives for that victory. I’ve been—I’ve been thinking I’m not supposed to simply be here in Wethersfield teaching while big events are happening elsewhere.”

“Big events like what? Men killing each other? You want to be a part of that and you want my brother to as well?”

Ben shook his head in exasperation, “Sadie, do you realize what could possibly be happening in this country? A revolution. There are people revolting against what we’ve been dealing with for the past few years.”

“I—I know, but that doesn’t mean we have to be a part of it. The whole thing it—it makes me uncomfortable!” 

“I know,” Ben said more gently, “Sadie. There’s a student in my class who had a red coat housed in his home. After that battle, he went on a drunken rampage and ruined my student’s books and work. It’s starting to affect people around me. It’s affecting you! Look at your arm, look at what that bastard did to you!” 

“I know!” Sadie raised her voice, “I know it’s terrible! But that doesn’t mean my brother should enlist and join the army! You know him, Ben—he will do anything just to prove to himself he did. He follows his heart but all it takes is one letter from someone like you for him to actually do it! He won’t take into consideration how I feel or our father.” Sadie was shedding tears down her cheeks. She slammed the letter on the desk and covered her face. Ben opened his mouth to speak, but Sadie interrupted. 

“Nathan is my brother—my closest brother. Regardless of how I feel about this, I don’t want my brother to put himself in such danger where nothing is certain. I’d rather the people I love stay safe and home.” 

“There won’t be a home we own if we don’t fight for it, Sadie,” Ben said softly, “we don’t own these places we live. The King does. Aren’t you tired of it?”

“I’m tired of it, but I’m not ready to make a stand like that. Clearly, you are, and you seem quite all right with leaving everything here—leaving me.”

Ben looked at her like she just stabbed him in the stomach—speechless. “Leaving you?” He asked incredulously. “Sadie, I would want to do this so I could be with you freely. Openly. In a bigger house than this and—,” Ben shook his head, biting his tongue and failing. “Christ, Sadie, I didn’t want to tell you like this but I—I want to marry you one day. I want to make you my wife and I your husband. We can’t have that if this country remains in control of them. We could, but we wouldn’t be completely free. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted with you. Complete freedom.” 

If it were possible, Sadie was sure her heart shattered into a million pieces. Why did the simplest of things come with such risks? Was it always going to be like this for them? A period of happiness of security, followed by another of uncertainness and danger? 

“Please,” Ben begged, stepping closer to Sadie and wrapping his arms around her frame, “Listen, Sadie. It’s for a greater cause, all of this. If I enlist, and if your brother joins as well, I swear to you I will protect him. I’m doing this for us. And I promise you I will marry you, if you’ll have me.”

Through bleary eyes, Sadie looked up at him and felt that familiar warmth spread through her chest. Of course, she would have him. She’s just scared. 

Sadie rested her head on Ben’s chest, with nothing more to say. The only thing that was certain was this very moment they had. 

[ceo-of-sloppy-men]

Hey, you! Yes, you - do you want some good old-fashioned Nick Valentine x Sole Survivor x John Hancock whump? You do? Here ya go :)

Nick gets captured in goodneighbour on a supply run for a new settlement

the sole survivor doesn't realize until it's too late

they bust down nearly every door in goodneighbour but no Nick

even Hancock is worried at this point and decides to lend a hand

people are more willing to give up information to the mayor rather than the sole survivor (especially on a synth's whereabouts) and eventually, they track him to a nearby warehouse

by the time the two of them reach Nick, he's been through hell and back. Dismantled, put back together, tortured, beaten, the whole shebang by people who r e a l l y don't like synths (and forgot the golden rule of the commonwealth: don't fuck with the sole survivor)

Nick's put together just barely enough to be conscious as they reach him. No video, no touch, just audio, so he can't even be fully sure it is the sole survivor... but he's in no position to argue

they make sure to power him down in case anything major is missing and continuing to function would cause him to break

a blood-soaked sole survivor has to carry Nick back to sanctuary (because they refuse to stop anywhere else) while Hancock tags along because he's carrying everything they could find that might be nick-related but not in/on nick

it is a very tense week in Sanctuary while the Sole Survivor repairs Nick and Hancock offers moral support

when they finally bring Nick back online, he's a mental wreck. No one goes through Hell and comes out the other side in one piece

the moment he seeks the two of them he shatters. The trauma caving in on all sides now that he's finally not there and "safe"

Nick doesn't sleep, but that doesn't stop the three of them from curling up on the bed for the rest of the day