#fallout 4 fluff

[sweetcocopowder]

Pitch Black Dahlias | PT. 1 | PT.2

Synopsis: The news had taken everyone by shock. The Minutemen had been the one to take down the Institute. It's evil being rid of the Commonwealth once and for all.

But that doesn't mean that Nate's work is over. There is a still a lot to. And that includes helping Danse with his current dilemma of finding out who he truly is. And the pre-war man thinks bringing Danse along on some Railroad jobs will help out.

Hopefully.

Word Count: 2.2K

Pairing: Paladin Danse x Nate (Male Sole Survivor)

Warnings: Slow Burn. Trauma. Eventual Smut.

The only times Danse has had the time to visit to Diamond City, it’s all been for Nate. He sees no need to come to this part of the Commonwealth by himself. Yes, he has travelled and scouted around Diamond City when he was stationed at the Cambridge Station. But even those little expeditions were dangerous at that point of time. Those memories still spark a pang of hurt deep within his chest.

He pushes it aside as he walks down the stairs to the Diamond City centre. He hasn’t seen Nate in two weeks. A whole two weeks since they infiltrated the Institute together with the Minutemen and destroyed the evil from the Commonwealth.

He was more than honoured to do so when Nate had asked him to be by his side. It had given him something to shoot at and fight for.

A part of him only hoped that it would have been the Brotherhood to participate in such a role. But Danse couldn’t argue with Nate when he was set in his ways. His mind was made up ages ago. The whole ordeal out of the Listening Post was probably what tipped him over the edge. It always something that Danse stills ponders on. Still thinking that that day was his last.

But he’s still here, alive, as a synth can get, and standing naked in Diamond City. Not naked per say, but he feels like it.

He’s come without his power armour at Nate’s request. He felt more at home inside of one. But the fact that Nate had asked him to come without one? It made him feel weary travelling from the Castle to Diamond City without it. But he trusts Nate’s judgement even if it might be questionable at times.

Like standing still while aiming down his scope as a super mutant suicider came barrelling his way. Danse was still his sponsor back then and hounded into Nate for being so stupid. He left it out of the report, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing he did for the Brotherhood matters.

He pulls his bomber jacket closer around his chest, the late autumn breeze cold today. He ventures through the market to Nate’s residents at the Home Plate, ignoring the multiple people calling his way trying to upsell their products. He doesn’t need a haircut, or some ammo, or a… swatter? He eyes the red faced man before continuing on.

Anyways.

Danse gives three sharp knocks on the door and takes a step away. He eyes the empty power armour rack, wondering where Nate has kept his T-45. It wasn’t at the Castle, he just came from there. Maybe he’s left it up at the Red Rocket with his wide collection of power armours. He waits a few minutes before knocking again. He doesn’t want to intrude even though he knows Nate wouldn’t care. It’s more out of respect than anything.

“Danse.”

Slowly -at the sound of the very unique voice-, the ex-Paladin turns to meet the synth detective with a frown. Valentine narrows his gaze to him with a raised brow.

“Valentine,” he responds back blandly.

“Glad to see you out and about after everything,” the detective says with as much sarcasm as possible.

“Where’s Nate?” Danse gets to the point, his tone blunt and firm.

But Valentine doesn’t faulter to the demand. His stark yellow eyes flickers behind the former soldier before back at him. “He’s this way,” he says instead with a small wave of his hand.

Danse hesitates for a moment, glancing to the door before reluctantly following after Valentine. He’s well aware that his hate towards the synth is something that’s hypocritical. Yet there’s something so intertwined in Danse’s heart that he hasn’t been able to rid himself of yet. Could be the same reason why he was so ready to die by Nate’s hands. Dropped to his knees and begged that he needed to be the example, not the exception.

Yet Nate had still dragged him from his knees and pleaded. Showed him mercy that Danse didn’t deserve. The ex-Paladin doesn’t think he deserved it. He’s heard from others that Nate has a bleeding heart and Danse wouldn’t be the one to object to those claims. Sometimes it’s a dangerous thing. Getting them into more trouble at times.

The two don’t get far. Valentine stops just outside the chems store and points a skinny, metal finger upwards. Danse looks up without a word and doesn’t see it at first, but when he does he can’t help but stare.

There’s a small, makeshift balcony atop of Nate’s residents, one that overlooks the city. A grand view of the place. It’s a lovely little spot that Nate paid a pretty cap for. But there in his little red throne -a single seater couch- with his head lolled onto his chest, is Nate fast asleep. His hands are overlapped on his torso with his legs outstretched. He reminds Danse of one of those older settlers at Sanctuary that can be seen napping the day away. Every, single, day.

“How long has he been up there?” Danse asks casually. His shoulders have relaxed and his head is slightly cocked to the side like a dog.

“Around three hours now,” Valentine answers with a chuckle. “As far as I know from Piper they came back from the Railroad. They’ve been keeping him on his toes lately trying to help the synths you and him helped out.”

Danse swallows thickly. “It was all him.”

“Whatever you say, big guy,” Valentine speaks softly. “But at least give yourself some credit.”

There’s no response to that and the synth detective hums at that.

“Is that why I haven’t seen high or nigh of you lately? Didn’t want to deal with other synths?” Valentine asks, jabbing at this point.

Danse swallows thickly and changes the subject. “Why was Piper with him?”

Valentine lightly rolls his eyes and looks back up Nate. “She wanted a story. The aftermath of the Institute and what nots. Don’t know how good it’ll be with the Railroad wanting to stay hidden and all.”

“Does it matter anymore with the Institute gone?” Danse asks a genuine question.

It takes Valentine back a bit, the question actually making him wonder. “To some degree, yeah. There’s still synths out there that believe in what the Institute was doing.” The detective pauses for a moment, staring at the soldier. “You’d know that if you didn’t go off hiding away. Nate needs you right now more than ever.”

Danse swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I’ll wake him,” is all he murmurs before walking off.

He brings the spare keys to Home Plate out of his jacket pocket and unlocks the door. He wouldn’t normally let himself in, despite Nate having told him in the past that this place is more welcome to call home than anywhere else. Like the Castle and Sanctuary.

“It’s ours,” he has said once. It sounds weird on his mind as it did hearing it the first time from Nate’s mouth.

Yet whenever Danse is at those settlements as well, he feels more of the need to keep on his toes and work. Make sure that everything is in order, checking the defence systems more moving onto the water supplies, then onto the generators. Keeping his mind and body preoccupied so that he doesn’t have to think of other pressing matters. Just like the Brotherhood had ironed into him.

But Home Plate, it’s probably the only place that Danse has ever felt relaxed. The noise that seeps in through the thin walls of the place reminds him all too well of the Prydwyn, an all too welcoming murmur of noise. Theres no checklists at Home Plate. Only the mundane need to keep the place tidy of dust and other critters that decide to make themselves home.

Danse is quick to take himself up the stairs to the balcony. He opens the door as quietly as he can, peering around the corner to where Nate still sleeps peacefully on the couch. The ex-Paladin can’t help but watch for a moment with his brown eyes. The usual frown that has somehow become a permanent thing on Nate’s face has now smoothed out.  

With a quick glance out below, Valentine is nowhere to be seen and the people of Diamond City pay them no mind. One other thing that was ironed into Danse was their concept on attraction. A Paladin had to be at his best at all times. And that meant to having someone you love dearly being on your mind. The quality and the care for a Paladin’s garrison was all that Danse was able to think about.

Yes, he had come to a point in his sponsorship with Nate that his brewing feelings could mean something much more. Seeing someone being able to hold their own and being able to lead. It had wanted Danse to know more about Nate and who he was before the war. What things were like back then.

Slowly, Danse kneels down to one knee next to Nate’s outstretched legs. He brings a hand up gently and caresses the sleeping man’s face who stirs. Nate inhales deeply as his dark blue eyes blink awake through a squinted, peeping gaze. He looks to Danse with a bleary expression before a warm smile comes to his lips. He leans into the rough hand on his face, cupping it with his own. He turns his face into Danse’s palm and gives it a light kiss, his movements still filled with the grogginess of sleep.

“I think I may still be dreaming,” Nates murmurs groggily.

Danse stands up and places a kiss to the other’s forehead. “Rise and shine.”

Nate groans loudly as he stretches his stiff joints in the couch. He looks out to the small city and blinks.

No matter how much the Brotherhood had said about attraction and love, Nate had always made it feels welcoming though. Something that Danse still finds himself having trouble pulling away from. These past two weeks have been hell sent. But he won’t admit that out loud where the world can hear.

Nate then looks to his pip-boy as he licks his lips. His face goes from placid to wide and frantic within less than a second.  

“I was out for over three hours!?” He exclaims as he suddenly sits up straight.

Danse responds quickly with, “Your body needed the rest after everything you’ve been putting yourself through.”

Nate stands up, running a hand through his hair as his peace is disrupted by his own mind and responsibilities once more. This is probably the first time in months that Nate has had some time to himself.

“We’re going to be late!” Nate exclaims. “Did you let me sleep that long?” He asks with no bite to his tone.

“I only just arrived here,” Danse states.

That seems to calm the other man down a bit, his tense shoulders sagging. “Okay then we would have been late anyways,” Nate says more to himself than to the ex-Paladin.

“Why did you want me here?” Danse asks.

Deep blue eyes focus back onto the soldier. “Did you pick up those care packages?” He asks.

Danse could make a comment. A bad comment that would most likely have Nate snapping at him. Because why did Nate have him go to a Railroad drop point to meet up with Deacon of all people to hand him this, box? A care package of some sorts. Deacon hadn’t said much, had just said good luck before moving on with a fat grin on his face. He had tipped his wig of hair like some man in a suit would tip their fedora. It was odd and only had Danse confused even further.

But knowing that this job had to do with the Railroad, he couldn’t help but let that old hatred towards them linger and simmer. He’s aware it’s wrong, they help others of his kind. Synths. Yet there it was, that distaste that comes to his tongue whenever he’s near them or mentioned.

So, he replies with a simple and bland, “Yes.”

Nate picks up on his though and looks to him with a raised brow. “You didn’t do anything stupid with Deacon, did you?” He asks with a hand on his hip.

Danse’s brows shoot up. He should be offended at Nate saying such a thing! “No! I wouldn’t harm one of your contacts even if they’re-“ he cuts himself short. “I wouldn’t,” he repeats himself, his voice more on the verge of a whine than anything else. He clears his throat, hoping to cover it up.  

He shuffles around inside of his bomber jacket and holds out the two care packages to Nate instead. Hoping to distract the man from his current inner panic.

Nate takes the packages with a thank you. He opens them both up without a word, looking inside to make sure that everything is intact. From where Danse stands, he can’t see anything but from the look on Nate’s face, everything is satisfactory.

“Alright!” Nate exclaims as he snaps the packages shut. He places them under his arm as he makes his way back into Home Plate. “I want you to join me for a delivery!”

“A delivery?” Danse can’t help but ask.

“A very, dangerous delivery,” Nate grins slyly before he disappears inside.

Danse can’t help but roll his eyes at the comment. Isn’t everything dangerous when it comes to the man? The way he does things is, questionable. Danse groans to himself, before heading inside after the other.

[moonlit-rose-garden]

Moving on

Nick Valentine x reader

Word count: 1,655

This takes place about 2 years after the events of Fallout 4 and 1 year after finishing Nick's Eddie Winter quest line. The sole survivor (you) have been living predominantly in Diamond City, helping Nick with his cases.

It was raining outside. Almost no one was in the streets of the Great Green Jewel due to it. A off day, you could say. Most people were able to stay home and relax.

Days like this made (Y-n) almost forget that just outside the walls was a wasteland full of creatures itching to kill.

(Y-n) sat at an old metal desk with her head in her arms, listening to the radio playing. Nick walked in from outside, water dripping off the brim of his hat. He quickly shed his wet coat and hat and then began to make his way to his desk.

Stopping at the desk where (Y-n) sat, Nick revealed a bowl he brought in with him. “You've been working too hard. You need to eat.“ He said as he set the bowl in front of her and took a seat in the chair facing the front of the desk.

(Y-n) slowly raised her head to look at Nick, some of her hair falling in front of her face. His fingers twitched, wanting to reach over and tuck her hair behind her ear. He opted for smoking instead. (Y-n) watched as he tried lighting a cigarette a few times before succeeding. He sat back in the chair with his sleeves rolled up, relaxed for once.

“I think this is the most relaxed I've ever seen you, Nick.“ (Y-n) smiled as she grabbed the bowl of noodles and began to eat. “Thanks.“ Nick waved her off. “It's no problem.“ (Y-n) chuckles to herself. “This reminds me of late nights at the law office I used to work at. Someone would bring takeout, and we'd all sit and work. Or we'd just talk.“

Nick was quiet for a moment. “We used to do the same at the police department when we worked late.“ “Too bad we never got to meet back then. We'd have been great friends, I think.“ They both laughed lightly.

“Look at the two of us. Still stuck in a world long gone.“ Nick chuckled. (Y-n) thought about it for a moment. She pushed the noodles aside and propped her head up with her hand. “Honestly... I think I've moved on.. I mean, it still hurts to think about, and I will always miss Nate. But, I think it's getting better.“

Nick stared at her, his yellow eyes fixated on her face. “I never thought I'd say this. But me too. For so long, I held on to the feelings of a life I never physically lived. After everything with Eddie and a year to think about it...“ He leaned forward on the desk.“well I guess I should thank you.“ He finished. (Y-n) smiled warmly at Nick. “I'm glad we found each other. I couldn't have done any of this without you.“ She reached out over the desk, taking his free hand. “Thank you for taking care of me, Nick. You're a good man”

Nick stared at his hand in hers. It made him comfortable and warm. A feeling he hadn't felt for a long time. He glanced away and laughed. “Well that's what I'm here for. Detective Nick Valentine at your service.“ (Y-n) took her hand way. Immediately missing the feeling of his. She gazed at her hand.

It made her feel a bit guilty. Sure, it had been around 80 years since Nate passed, only 2 to her, but she still loved him. She'd always love him, but he's gone. She can't hold onto a ghost forever.. (Y-n) looked up and caught Nick staring at her with an unreadable expression. He quickly looks away quickly, pretending to read a file sitting on the desk.

(Y-n) looked way. She had a good guess why he was staring. They were both adults. She wasn't going to pretend that she didn't notice the things he did for her and how often he'd watch her. She was sure he had noticed how she smiled at him and how her hand would linger on his arm longer than it had to.

“Nick, do you still think of her?“ (Y-n) asked softly. Nick paused for a moment. “I do. But it's like you and Nate. She's long gone. Besides, she was never mine to begin with.“ He looks at (Y-n) with a small smile. “You helped me move on. Move on from that old life and start living my own." (Y-n) smiled. “I'm glad.“

The room was silent for a long while, and only the sound of the rain and the radio could be heard. Occasionally, the sound of papers shuffling would interrupt the comfortable silence.

“Oh, I should get back before it's too late. I still need to feed Dogmeat!“ (Y-n) said as she stood. Nick followed and put his coat and hat on. Then handed (Y-n) her coat and hat. “Thanks. Are you coming with?“ He nodded. “Yeah, I'll walk you home. “

The air outside was cold, and the rain came down in a drizzle. Nick, seeing (Y-n) shake in the cold, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Though he didn't add any warmth, the gesture made a blush creep up (Y-n) neck.

Slowly, she snaked an arm around his waist. (Y-n) looked at Nick in her peripheral vision. This talk helped her come to a decision about something she had been agonizing over for the past year. She loved Nick, and she was sure that, to some extent, he cared for her, too. But in what way? Looking forward again, (Y-n) tried to fight the anxious feeling bubbling up and the blush that came with it.

Nick felt conflicted. He liked the way she held onto him. He liked her company, he liked her. Nick knew he loved (Y-n). His mind felt scrambled and loud despite the quiet environment. The only sound was the rain and their shoes landing in puddles. He looked down, focused on the ground before them as they walked.

“Well, this is me...“ (Y-n) said as she let go of Nick and slid out of his hold. She pressed her lips in a line and awkwardly searched her pockets for her key. Nick watched her with a small smile. She was always so beautiful to him. But he never even dared entertaining the thought of romance. Not with how he looked, with what he was.

(Y-n) unlocked the door and pushed it open. “I'll see you tomorrow, Nick. Get some-” Before she could finish her sentence, a crack of thunder sounded with lighting not too far behind, and the rain started pouring. Taking one look at the sky and rain (Y-n) ushered Nick into her home. She slammed the door and locked it, letting out a sigh.

They both took off their wet coats and hats, hanging them on the coat hanger near the door. “Come on in! Just leave your shoes at the door.“ (Y-n) said, walking further into the house. Nick took a moment to look around. He realised the last time he'd been here was when (Y-n) first bought it. Almost a year ago. “I like what you've done with the place. Cozy. Tell me, how is it you're only now inviting me over?“ He said as he followed her into a little living room area.

“Well, I guess I never thought about it. I feel like I spend more time at the detective agency than in any of my homes.“ (Y-n) smiled and took a seat on a couch. She gestured for Nick to do the same, which he did.

A moment of silence passed between them. A false silence. Their heads both buzzing and loud. Nick thought he was fine working with her and admiring from a far, but now sitting with (Y-n) after coming getting off work... It almost felt like they were a couple. He hated himself for feeling this way. For how flustered he was.

Nick looked over at (Y-n). Her hands were clenched together in her lap, and she had this strange look on her face. “Hey, you alright?“ She glanced at him with an uneasy smile “Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just got something on my mind.“ Nick turned to face her fully. “What's troubling you? Maybe I can help.“

(Y-n) was silent for a short moment. “You're good to me, Nick. Thank you.“ Nick watched her intently. She looked at him in his glowing eyes. Maybe the storm happened for a reason. It gave her a chance to come clean and tell him how she really feels. “I care about you. A lot.“ (Y-n) looked away. “Sorry if this is weird. I just feel like I've got to say something.“

Putting a hand on her back, Nick inched closer to her. “It's alright. Just. Just tell me what it is.“ Nick had a feeling where it was going but pushed it away. He felt foolish for even entertaining the idea. (Y-n) took a deep breath and looked at Nick again, slightly leaning towards him.

“Do you care about me? The way I care about you?“ Nick was speechless. He just stared at her with a blank face. “I love you, Nick. And I have for a while..“ (Y-n) gazed at him with hopeful, loving eyes. Slowly, he raised a hand to her cheek and caressed her face. (Y-n) leaned into his gentle touch.

“This all feels like a dream...“ Nick whispered. He leaned forward and captured (Y-n) into a hug. “I do... I love you, too..“

They pulled apart, and (Y-n) held Nick's face gently. She inched closer before closing the gap between them, her warm lips meeting his cool ones.

(Y-n) quickly pulled away “I-I I'm sorry! I-I should have asked!“ Nick just grabbed her face, pulling her back towards him and kissing her, a bit harder this time. (Y-n) smiled into the kiss and threw her arms around his neck.

She knew that, finally, happy days were just around the corner.

I'm sorry if he's super out of character! It's been so incredibly long since I played this game! I hope it was still a good read. I do feel like the ending is missing something, though.

Like what you see and want to show some support with more than a comment? Buy me a coffee!

Ko-fi.com/moonlitrosegarden

[hallucinaj]

Headcanon: Hancock has nice warm hands, perfect for handholding.

It feels a bit weird giving Hancock the other wedding ring, but I like to roleplay that it's another pair of rings handmade from wire or somethin'.

[bisexualiteaa]

would it be alright if you were to write a fluff(maybe smut?) hancock x reader who has adhd who's just overwhelmed with quests and doesn't know which one to do first? Lol please and thank you:)

Of the People, For the People

John Hancock x ADHD!GN Reader (FLUFF!!)

CW: reader struggles with their ADHD, John thinks it’s cute, cursing, guilt, restlessness, slight OOC Hancock, slight suggestive themes towards the end, fluff, possible grammatical/spelling errors, briefly proof read

AN: as someone with ADHD this ask actually really hit home. It was half the reason why I could never start games like Fallout and Skyrim in the first place was because there are so many things you can do, the idea alone was overwhelming to me because I knew it’s start and never finish just about everything pushed my way. Then the TV series came o it and all that changed upon the simple acquirement of a hyperfixation on the ghoul and thus my love for fallout was born! 😂 I am still rather new to Fallout games, lore and such so please be gentle if I have gotten anything wrong, I’m still doing my best at learning everything I can to write these well and properly! But I hope I did your ask some justice with this Anon! Hope you all enjoy some more love for our Mayor Hancock. 🥰

Tag-list: @expirednukacola

“Ugh, there’s just too much to doooo” you whined as you plopped down onto his bed in the state house, exhausted and sore all over from setting up not one, not two, but three whole settlements in one day. Of course it wouldn’t be a day out in the commonwealth if you hadn’t run into monstrosities along the way or people along the way to other settlements who needed other things from you. For instance, there was someone who needed saved from thinking they were a synth and returned to their parents, other people who needed help getting their settlements started, people who needed you to kill some super mutants, people who needed you to eliminate some feral ghouls some place else, and after that you couldn’t even remember if you tried. Thank goodness for your Pip-Boy keeping track of these things or else you feared you’d never remember it all. There was just so much that others, especially Preston, were asking of you to do out here that it was beginning to become just a bit too overwhelming to take on all at once. You loved that you could be help for people, so unfortunately you never really paid your own wellbeing any mind until now that it was at such a detriment you could hardly even think straight, much less accurately hit a target or properly even speak to someone without sounding like intelligence was your dump stat. You wanted ever so badly to be that light for people who had seemed to lose hope because it’s what you would want others to do for you if you were in need. You lived and breathed by that golden rule taught to you so long ago. Come to think of it, the only person who you’d done everything for last that you could remember was Hancock, which was actually how you two ended up together.

“Being commander of the Minutemen will do that to ya, sunshine” Hancock teased, leaning against the door frame as he looked at you, tiredly splayed out on his bed in amusement, finding it funny that the commander of such a large militia could be so…well, you. Anyone else would likely be overwhelmed with power to the point of paranoia, or the opposite and let it go to their head and break them of the person they once were, but you were still yourself through everything. He admired the way you wanted to help people, the way you helped the poor and needy in the ways he wished the rich would do, but he could tell it was taking a clear toll on your wellbeing in doing so. He genuinely couldn’t remember the last time you told someone no, or that you flat out just couldn’t help them because he could see that look in your eyes when someone asked you for help. He saw the sympathy, the pain, saw the way you felt so bad knowing that if you didn’t, they likely wouldn’t make it out in the harsh world of the commonwealth. His heart ached for you in that sense, because he remembers a time when he wanted to help everyone in his town that he could, any way he could, hell it was the whole reason he became the mayor of Goodneighbor in the first place. But just like you, he needed someone to make him realize that you can’t do everything, some things just have to play out and fix themselves on their own. “But I think you need to take a break from it for a day or two, give yourself a chance to recoup. You’re working’ yourself to death and I’m startin’ to get worried” he added, walking into the room to join you and he watched you sit up, looking completely defeated and worried at the idea of not helping others or running things for just a day, let alone two but also at the fact that now he was concerned for you. “But they need me, John. If I don’t help them…what would become of them? What kind of leader would I be to just leave them in shambles? I can’t live with the idea of lives lost because of me…” you said with a guilty tone, clearly torn between the idea of helping yourself or helping others, and the sweet innocence of your good natured personality made him smile softly as he closed the door behind him and sat down next to you on his bed.

“Even heros need a vacation, love. Helping people who won’t make it is wonderful, it’s one of the many things I love about you. But people can just as easily be hurt when they’re guided in the wrong direction because the person directing them isn’t taking care of themselves the way they need to. A good leader needs strength sure, but that strength depletes and needs replenished every now and again, and that’s okay” he said, grabbing your hand in his, squeezing it in the hopes to offer you some level of comfort to assure you his words meant no harm, he simply just wanted you to look out for yourself as much as you looked out for others around you. He knew it got through to you when he heard you exhale an audible deep breath you’d been holding in for so long. “I guess, I just…I don’t know. It feels extra difficult for me because I can never stay focused on just one thing. I get started on one project, then someone comes along and I get so side tracked trying to help them that I forget all about where I started! I probably have twenty of these damn missions at least half started before I dropped them for something else entirely. It’s so frustrating and overwhelming because then they all start to pile up, and then I don’t know where to start!” you explained, making him laugh. Who would have ever guessed his big, fearless commander of the Minutemen, partner was easily sidetracked by their ADHD. But he wouldn’t want you any other way. “Yet you completed everything I asked of you with no issue” he pointed out with a smug grin, making you blush at the realization that he noticed that. “Well…yeah. I did it because I liked you and wanted to get closer to you. I was fixated on it because I wanted it to better my chances of being with you, so to me it wasn’t work. It was just doing something that you, someone I care for, asked me to do, so I did it” you admitted bashfully, making him smile at the wholesome reason you gave him. “That’s so fucking cute” Hancock replied as he put his arm around you, pulling you into his side, making you blush even more before covering your face with your hands. “It’s cute until you realize I killed someone for you” you quipped with a grin once you’d moved your hands away to look at him, making him chuckle at your reply. “Made it even” he joked, referring to when Finn tried to haggle you when you first showed up to Goodneighbor. “Fair enough” you responded as you chuckled, but he could still tell that you hadn’t fully come around to the idea yet, something still had its hold on you but at least you started to open up to the idea.

“C’mon, let’s just take the next couple of days to relax. The settlements will be fine, they run pretty well on their own, I’m sure they can survive a day or two without you. Maybe Nick or Codsworth can run ship while you take the time to yourself” he said, making you lean your head against his shoulder as you contemplated it. “Poor Codsworth, I wouldn’t do that to him. He tended to my house for two hundred years despite the absolute state of decay it was in from the explosions, thinking the family would come back any day and it drove him nearly mad. I could only imagine what running settlements would do to him” you said, making him chuckle. “Okay then how ‘bout Nick? He’s traveled with you long enough, he’s a smart guy, I’m sure he could handle it. I’m sure he’d more than understand that you need some time to yourself to get back that good ol’ fighting spirit” he added. “You think so?” You asked skeptically, making him sling his arm around your waist to hold you close and help ease your nerves the best he could. It was times like these that you wished you had the confidence and aloof attitude Hancock had about just about everything. “I know so. Think about it, you set them up, taught them what they know, they already manage pretty well on their own, they got this! Just lay back and relax for a change!” he said, easing your nerves just a little bit more at the idea. For someone who never wanted a leader to be too comfortable, he really wanted you to be, it was strange yet heart warming to see how much he cared about you and wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself. So you finally gave in, maybe a couple of days to relax and do what you wanted to do didn’t sound bad after all. Maybe you could enjoy a couple of drinks one night, or hell, maybe enjoy just sleeping in a bed two nights in a row for a change, give your body a rest from sleeping on the cold hard ground in a sleeping bag. And not have to worry about all the things floating around in your mind that need done. That sounded like heaven to you once you convinced yourself with Hancock’s help that it could really be useful. “Okay, but if I do, I can’t just lay in bed all day. I literally can’t, I’ll go crazy” you said, making him laugh, knowing the way you can’t sit still for more than a few minutes at a time just on the regular while you’re on the go. “We don’t have to, these couple of days are for what you wanna do sunshine. Though I wouldn’t mind it of course if we spent all of it in bed, but staying in bed all day doesn’t necessarily mean *just* sleeping, ya know” he said, his voice slipping into that characteristic deep, gravelly suggestive tone with a mischievous grin painting his thin, irradiated lips as he pulled you into his side, making you laugh. “John!” You said, seemingly flabbergasted at his reply, but truthfully you hadn’t expected anything less from him. “Oh you know I love it when you yell my name, keep doin’ it sunshine” he said flirtatiously with that ever recognizable smirk painted across his face as he crawled on top of you on the bed, littering your face and neck with kisses through a shared fit of laughter. Maybe a little break wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

More of pirate-Eclipse with Fallout4 Hancock lines bc I’m a simp sucker for both of them hhhfhfbfbfh

Tiny bonus below the cut: a small compilation of design concepts for sea-monster reader 👉👈

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

“I got it from here..” Paladin Danse X Reader

______

(This was the winner and lemme tell y’all, stormy is happy)

Whoever first warned you that expeditions into the wastes would be difficult, seriously understated just how bad it was. Of course, in hindsight it was a stupid thing to be asked for the everyday dweller who had been born in the rotting, broken world around them. A world that was not your own. This was a world that demanded you to be strong, be vigilant, be fearless..but you were so very afraid.

Every ghosting of shadows over your campsite, every slight breeze rustling debris somewhere in the distance filled your body with cold dread- especially at night.

Tonight was no different, naturally. Even strapped in armor, loaded down with enough ballistics to turn a person into something resembling a macabre slice of Swiss cheese, and a stomach that wasn’t rumbling as a horrible reminder of just how famished the wastes left you..you were still scared. However the man in front of you, just mere feet away and leaned up against a post..he was scared too. Perhaps there was some comfort to be found in the mutual fear considering as far as you were concerned, he was the bravest man you knew.

For a brief, decent moment you were able to appreciate the man you found to be a constant companion of your’s. He watched your back when you went scavenging in the remains of the old harbor, meticulously clearing out whatever building you thought looked promising, then when night fell far too fast to retreat back to a settlement, it was he who secured an acceptable shelter to sleep for the night and fortified it with his beloved power armour serving as blockade from any intruding assailants. Even so, he just wouldn’t rest.

Those familiar deep, amber eyes systematically swept the surrounding area with his vantage point out the window. It was a pattern, up for a while..down..sweep from side to side and repeat again and again. It was his training after all, keep those under his command safe in shifts as the darkness of night cloaked whatever hostiles there might’ve been.

There was something different about your beloved friend tonight, or perhaps it was more the fact you finally took to noticing it for the first time. His sharp eyes faltered in their pattern, his body was heavy against where he rested, his head even rested against the wooden post in such a manner that if you couldn’t see his eyes you’d probably assume him to have fixed off. As silly as it sounded, it was then you finally noticed the speckling of silvery grey dappling his rich black hair right above his ears and randomly in his stubble. Danse was getting old..a silly thought in itself but sure enough he was, age wasn’t something he had the luxury of escaping.

That was something only ghouls and you seemed to be able to evade. Alas, Danse was human as far as you knew. He was flesh and blood and aged as was befitting of someone of his higher rank anyways..

“Danse..?” Your voice cut the comfortable silence residing between the two of you, amazingly drawing his attention with a blink that lasted a bit too long.

He didn’t say anything to acknowledge you, he didn’t really have to anyways considering you knew he was giving you his attention by the way those sweet puppy dog eyes locked with your’s, albeit in a tired haze. Exhaustion was no stranger to you, that was even before all the abominations that had befallen your life. So it was no hard task to elucidate the mysterious shrouding of his construction.

“I…” You began to speak up, words cut short when the man in front of you stretched his neck and furrowed his brows- yawning for what had to have been the first time you had ever seen him do so in the many nights you spent alongside him.

“My apologies..” He grumbled, his voice a gentle grumble from the back of his throat- a tone that you maybe liked to imagine was what he sounded like first thing in the morning. Maybe that’s what he would sound like….no such things weren’t appropriate to entertain, Danse didn’t deserve such thoughts even if he had no way of knowing of their existence. “You were saying?” He asked, trying to be nonchalant in the way he desperately attempted to rouse his mind back to full acuity.

You couldn’t help the right press of your lips when you took in his exhausted state. He was always the one to protect, maybe now it was time for him to be protected- if only for a moment.

With an abrupt clear of your throat, you gathered your bearings and rose to your knees from your sleeping bag. After the initial jolt of feeling your blood pressure drop out from the sudden shift to an upright position, you were quick to grab your gun and meet him which thankfully didn’t require much movement in part of the less than spacious shelter you found yourself in. Of course, seeing you stumble even that small bit made your beloved companion scoff under his breath, the tiniest curl of his lips just barely breaking his helplessly tired expression.

“Let me take watch, just for a bit.” You offered, your gun slung over your shoulder and a smile on your equally weary face. Naturally, the stubborn Paladin had every intention of dismissing the offer..however your free hand clasping over his bicep in a gentle grip that shocked the both of you extinguished whatever fire he had about him. “Go rest, I got it from here..” You certainly didn’t..but you’d try for him.

He sighed, looking outside the window then to the sleeping bag. The exchange of glances allowed you to see how the light flickered from the lantern across his features, illuminating not only his freckles but also his newly acquired purple bags under his eyes.

Strange, you didn’t know someone could look like they were kissed by both the moon and the sun.

Deciding his exhaustion would only be more dangerous in the long haul, he buckled with little additional persuasion. “Thank you…I appreciate it. If anything goes wrong, I mean anything..wake me up. I don’t care if you believe it’s just the wind, I mean it.” He instructed, a worried chew of the inside of his cheek enough to signal to you that the apprehension may be for more than just fear for your lives..he knew how afraid you were of the wastes even after proving to be a capable fighter. Perhaps there was more though..

Once you nodded he was quick to finally go lay down, a joint or two of his popping on the way down which only made you chuckle as quietly as you possibly could as not to embarrass him. After that, it didn’t take long for him to fall into a light slumber- leaving you to gaze up out the window and into the vastness of the dark night.

You were afraid..but tonight you’d put your fears aside if it meant he could get some rest.

[v1nsmoke]

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 // 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

oneshot - fallout's john hancock x reader

tw: mentions of drugs (usual hancock activity)

summary: after days of exiting goodneighbor, you and hancock finally get to talk

fandom: fallout

a/n: there is not enough talk about this fella omg… now that liking the ghoul from the fallout show is accepted, i can come forward (i chose the “romance hancock” option every playthrough). no pronouns used, so gender neutral ig? also the inspiration for the title is that one song thats viral on tiktok rn, also galvanized square steel mentioned

tags: -

wc: 0.6k

“Day twenty-five since leaving Vault 111, today is Monday and my location is Diamond City, it’s currently 2:41 PM. Me and my companion are at the noodle shop,” you say, speaking into your Pip-boy. 

Recently, you’ve been documenting every day, usually just a brief summary on that day’s experiences. These experiences consisted of hourly radroach attacks, accidental overdose on jet, or encounters with hostile Mr. Handy’s. Or accidental near-death situations with a deathclaw. That only happened once. 

You weren’t sure anybody would ever hear these, even better, be interested in these daily logs. Your companion seemingly couldn’t care less about these logs, as he ate his portion of ramen next to you. 

“The Institute remains undefeated, and I doubt it will change today, I’m not in the mood for it,” you continue.

“If it depended on your mood, it would be there forever,” Hancock cuts in with his sarcastic remark.

A sigh escapes your lips at his words.

“Maybe I should switch back to Dogmeat and send you back to Goodneighbor,” you reply.

“Now, what good would that do for you?”

“It would spare me from more of these remarks.”

“But can Dogmeat give you this?” He asks as he slides you a jet.

Hesitantly, but you accept it with a smile. 

“John Hancock, the ghoul you are,” you sigh.

A smile creeps onto his features. 

“See? You like me enough.”

“Whatever helps you sleep…”

You’ve been traveling with Hancock for the past week or so, after you accepted the offer of Bobby, who just so happened to lie to you. One thing led from another, and after finishing off Hancock’s bodyguard, you managed to solve the bad blood between the two of you by killing Bobby herself. 

Hancock was useful and good company, helping out where he could and making small talk with you. Not to mention that he was supplying you with a different kind of drug every day. They don’t have that stuff in Vaults…

Last night, the both of you got high as hell in the home you bought with hard-earned caps here, in Diamond City. It was mostly a box, so you decided to illegally expand it with galvanized square steel and eco-friendly wood veneers. So, after the finished construction - that lasted four days with the cheap and friendly workforce including Little John (Hancock) and yourself -, the two of you decided to celebrate.

He plopped down onto the mattress - the construction fee was too much for you to spend even more caps on a normal bed -, resting his back against the wall. You popped open a bottle of Nuka-Cola, taking your place on the mattress next to him.

“So, how do ya like it?” He asks, taking a Jet out of his pocket.

“So far so good,” you reply with a sigh.

“That’s all? Not ‘I love this place more than the Vault’?”

“I do like it more than the Vault, cause you’re here.”

He stays quiet for a few seconds before speaking up.

“That’s good.”

“That’s all? Not ‘Wow I, too, am really glad that I’ve got you and get to share Jet with you and that you defended me from that Deathclaw’?”

He lets out a slight chuckle, hanging his head low. 

“Thank you, then. For these past few days I’ve spent with you. Never thought I would find anybody who would accept me as their companion.”

© v1nsmokes 2024. Do not modify, translate or rewrite.

[olsenmyolsen]

Fallout

master list

dark master list

Fallout/Marvel AU (Gender Neutral Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Summary: You and your wife, Wanda Maximoff, are finally living your dream life in WestView. It was perfect until the bombs fell.

Word Count: 1.3K

Content: Fallout TV Show and Video Game references. Not a happy ending. I wrote this in like one hour.

Yakety Yak played from the tiny radio resting on the end table next to the couch as Wanda Maximoff, dressed in a red A-line skirt and Oxford shirt, reading through a lifestyle magazine her neighbor Agnes had lent her.

"Wow, is the death rate of single men really that high?" Wanda quietly questioned to herself before you came in through the front door. Sweating and out of breath.

"Gosh, it's a scorcher out there!" You said as you huffed and puffed in the middle of the entryway to the house. Wanda smiled at your voice and rose. "Let me grab you some water, dear." You smiled as she whizzed by you. Her perfume and infectious personality making you feel hotter all over.

"Honey?" Wanda pulled you from your thoughts as she handed you a tall glass of water. You accepted it and chugged the whole thing before handing it back to Wanda, who only took a single kiss as a form of payment.

"So I take it the lawn is done?" Wanda asked as she came back from the kitchen. You nodded. "It's perfect. Way better than Norm's." You smiled with a goofy grin while Wanda shook her head and chuckled at your stupid rivalry. "I'm sure it is." Wanda stepped behind you and started to push you to the back room. Where your bedroom was. "Now, why don't you take a shower so that way when I kiss you again, I'm not worried about getting a grass stain!"

Wanda was proud of her joke and let the inviable audience loudly laugh at that one. You playfully rolled your eyes and accepted it, but not before reaching out and grabbing your wife's hand.

"You know a shower is only fun if I have help?" You made your eyebrows bounce. Wanda smirked. "Really? You managed yesterday without help, so I think you'll be just fine." She scrunched her nose and began moving you once again. You went to reply, but the doorbell interrupted you. "Shower!" Wanda pointed back with a smile and laughed at your pouty face. But yet you retreated and went to take a shower as Wanda answered the door to a man dressed like a salesperson.

"Hello is this the Maximoff residents?" Wanda clasped her hands over themselves in front of her. "Yes, it is." The man was holding a clipboard and looked at it as he began marking some stuff off. "Okay, great! And there are two of you, correct?" Wanda nodded as she looked over the man.

Who was he?

"I'm sorry, but who are you? Who are you with?" Wanda asked as the man lifted his eyes to her with a smile. "Oh, I'm sorry. Please forgive me." He stuck his hand out. Wanda took it gingerly. "My name is Steve Rogers and I'm here with an opportunity for the future!"

The man was a mix of nervousness and overzealous.

"The future?" Wanda questioned as she looked the man over. Steve cleared his throat before speaking up. "Why yes, Ma'am. You see, Vault-Tec is the foremost builder of state-of-the-art underground Fallout shelters."

Wanda tilted her head with her eyebrows scrunched. She had heard of Vault-Tec, but why was a salesperson at her door? "Vaults?"

Like safes? Wanda wondered.

Steve nodded. "Yes Vaults! Luxury accommodations for you and..." He looked down at his clipboard. "Y/n Maximoff to wait out the horrors of nuclear devastation." Wanda's eyes went wide. "I'm sorry!?"

Steve kept going.

"If you haven't noticed, Ma'am, excuse my language, but this country has gone to heck in a handbasket. Now more than ever, people need to be prepared. The big kaboom is inevitable. Sooner than you may think. If you catch my drift." He said the last part softer and quieter. But he said it with a smile.

Wanda took a step back.

Steve noticed. "Now, now, I know you're a busy woman, so I won't take too much more of your precious remaining time. I'm here to tell you that you and your partner have been selected and pre-approved for our own local Vault. Vault 89!"

Wanda seemed a little surprised but nodded and smiled. She didn't like the feeling that was turning in her.

"Wow, well, thank you!" Wanda politely said while Steve nodded and tipped his hat to Wanda. "Thank you for trusting Vault-Tec with your future!" He turned on his heels and walked with a purpose off the front porch. Wanda watched as the man admired the lawn before hopping into his car.

As Wanda locked the front door, you were leaving the main bedroom. All dressed and clean. "Who was it?" You asked, startling your wife. You looked at her wide-eyed as she shrieked and composed herself before laughing. "Sorry." She said before fast walking to you and wrapping her arms around your body. Your clean smell invading her nose, making her feel better.

"No need to apologize." You replied as you held Wanda. The two of you softly swaying in the middle of the living room. "Are you going to tell me who it was, or do I have to guess?" You kissed the top of Wanda's head. "It was Vault-Tec." She said with her Sokovian accent slipping after she turned her head to face you.

"Vault-Tec? The company Cooper Howard promotes?" Wanda nods to your confused face. "Promoted. But yes. We've been selected for a Vault. Vault 89." Wanda said as she was reading your eyes. "Now, why in the hell were we selected?" You questioned, only to earn a shrug from Wanda. "Maybe only the house with the best lawn gets in," Wanda said as she couldn't hide her bright smile.

"Oh, you think you're funny?" You asked, looking into your wifes green eyes. She nodded. "I saw him admiring all your hard work before he left." She squeezed and poked your arms as she said it.

You laughed and untangled yourself from Wanda as you brought the two of you to the couch. "Well, I guess that means the Vault will be free of Norm." Wanda threw her head back and slapped your arm at your comment. "Honey!"

You chuckled before flipping on the TV. A weatherman was complaining about how hot the rest of the summer would be for WestView before a producers ran on screen and the broadcast suddenly cut. A singular tone and a screen that read Please Stand By followed.

Wanda's smile faded fast, as did yours.

It can't be.

"No, no, no," Wanda whispered as her voice broke and quivered. You immediately rose and went to the window. You didn't see anything through the shudders until it was all white.

What followed was smoke and fire.

The glass broke and sent debris flying above you as you protected Wanda.

"But this is our home!" Wanda screamed as you tried lifting her.

It was real. It was happening. Fallout was coming.

Wanda thrashed about in your arms as she didn't want to leave the house you and her worked so hard for. She has the deed that you bought hanging above her bedside table. Pictures of family scattered around the house. Your music collection and hidden snacks would be forgotten to time. You didn't want to leave either. But you needed to survive. You couldn't do this without Wanda.

"Wanda, please let's go!" You yelled as the noise outside was growing louder and more chaotic. But only one thought processes through your wifes head as Wanda escaped from your hold and runs into the bedroom. Returning out of it moments later with one thing in her hand.

With tears running down her face, she opens your hand and placed it down. "Wanda..." You flip the plastic stick over before the air left your throat. "You're..." Wanda nodded and cried harder.

She was pregnant.

Tears fell onto the carpet below your feet as you brought yourself closer and kissed Wanda.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

You did everything you could to get Wanda to the Vault that day. Through crowds of panicked people. Through the incompetent security of Vault-Tec. Through the white flash of another bomb being dropped.

The two of you made it.

But that same day was the last time you saw Wanda before she was separated from you at the Vault checkpoint.

You don't remember anything after that until today.

Time passed. She's not here anymore.

So, as the doors open and the sun blinds as you stand dressed in blue and yellow, you're prepared to find Wanda and your children. Whatever it takes.

You're prepared for Fallout.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[strawberrykidneystone]

A Fallout 4 request, featuring John Hancock.

Nate (35) is the sole survivor but his younger sister (25) survived too. Nate is overprotective of his sister, kinda annoyingly so. Nate and his sister find Goodneighbor and meet Hancock, like a typical Fallout 4 play thru. They travel together. Sister is falling in love with Hancock because she sees how sweet he is and how ruthless he can be too. Is Hancock falling for her? Does he keep it on the down low? Sister is a bit shy, so she admires Hancock secretly. Mutual pining? Nate isn't too keen on how close they seem to be getting. Does Hancock secretly kiss the sister? Or does she kiss him first? Like what if Hancock gets a little injured and she takes care of him? Hancock is a little flirty while injured.

AHHHH I LOVE THIS ANON UR MIND!!!!

when hancock first met you and your older brother, he thought that the two fo you would be dead within the week, especially stumbling into a place like goodneighbor

he told the neighborhood watch to keep an eye on you two to make sure that no one gave you trouble, especially after your not so great welcome by finn

once the two of you are running around for a while, he truly sees how you're not just some chickens with your head cut off, but intentional about finding nate's son/your nephew

hancock sees how overprotective nate is of you and honestly doesn't blame him, after everything that his family has been through, but it sort of makes you a forbidden fruit for him

he flirts with you at the third rail whenever nate is off talking to maccready with an innuendo slipped in here and there, but nothing more than that really happens, and he doesn't expect it to

until the two of you were caught breaking into his storage room with none other than bobbi no nose

he was tickled pink when the two of you showed loyalty to a mayor you barely knew and talked it out peacefully with bobbi no where to be found afterward, but he was surprised that fahrenheit had given you ashmaker, which your brother immediately took away of course

nate had a shotgun on him at all times while he insisted that you have long-range weapons, you frequently switching between a sniper rifle and your beloved plasma rifle that you had spent so much time and money working on. the only thing that sucked was that the ammo cost an arm and a leg, so you usually had to save it for especially nasty enemies

the two of you went up to hancock's office after the incident and he thanked you both personally, offering to go out with the two of you on the open road to get away for a while

you said yes embarrassingly quickly, which immediately set off alarm bells in nate's mind

however, the two of you were going to have to go into the glowing sea soon and who better to help take you there than a ghoul?

plus nick liked him, so nate was a little more inclined to trust him

he also couldn't resist your puppy dog eyes, begging him to let the poor mayor join you on your journey

and so, the three of you set off after he made his goodbye speech to the town, like a terd of hurdles (herd of turtles, sorry its a family joke)

in your downtime when you're not helping settlements or clearing out buildings of raiders for basically table scraps for the brotherhood, the three of you stop in either trailers or homes that have at least 2 beds so you can rotate on who keeps watch while the others sleep

the three of you talk around a campfire, the two of you talking about life before the way and hancock spewing about all the dirty secrets of the people of goodneighbor, it was all in good fun

the way the three of you walked, nate was usually at the front while you and hancock formed a somewhat triangle formation behind him

the three of you usually travel in a comfortable silence, keeping an ear out for any enemies that might be around that you couldn't focus on if you were knee-deep in a conversation

but that's also when you and hancock shared stolen glances at each other, walking too close to one another that your hands brush or your shoulders bump, little moments that had hancock feeling like a little schoolboy with a crush again

of course nate saw none of this as the two of you would straighten out if he showed even an inkling of turning around

nate had been adamant about not doing any drugs, which you called him a hypocrite for since he was basically a drug dealer with how much jet he made on an almost regular basis

he almost had a heart attack the first time he ever saw you smoking a cigarette for god's sake

but with hancock around, he gets more lenient, which you definitely appreciate

plus, hancock is a good drug trip babysitter

the two of you laughed your asses off at nate's first jet high, he was so far gone that he didn't even notice how you fell onto hancock's lap as you clutched your sides

when it's hancock's turn to watch and you can't sleep, the two of you sit together and share a cigarette while nate is snoring away

you feel a tickle in your tummy as you realized it's technically an "indirect kiss", but you make no comment about it. hancock is flirty with everyone, there's no way that what he was saying was genuine to you... right?

over the next week, you find more plasma cartridges in your bag that you swear weren't there before, along with packs of your favorite cigarettes

you're pretty sure you know who the offender is, but you don't say anything. he's probably leaving stuff for nate too right?

as the three of you continue to travel on, the days turn into weeks and you see just how much hancock sticks to his moral code and helping those who can't help themselves

you had never seen anyone so passionate about helping people and wanting to live as authentically as possible, you couldn't help but admire him for it

it was sort of funny, the more your crush grew, the shyer you got around him while the more that hancock fell for you, the more genuine and specific his compliments got

"you really nailed that headshot today" "pork 'n beans has never tasted so good" "is that prewar perfume? how the hell did that glass bottle survive the blast? damn, well it was definitely made for you."

he doesn't use pet names because he KNOWS nate will smack him upside the head, little does he know that nate has been catching onto the two of you catching feelings for one another

nate has a serious talk with you about hancock while he's out bathing and it takes a LOT to wear him down, but he finally says that he trusts your judgment. while he might not like that hancock uses a multitude of drugs, he is a pretty decent guy overall

he still hovers and basically doesn't let the two of you out of his sight after his suspicions are confirmed, but he's been grilling hancock a lot about questions about his life LMAO

anyways, you're too chicken to confess and hancock is too apprehensive of nate to confess, so it goes on in awkwardness for a few days

until hancock gets injured

like BADLY injured

i'm talking knocking on death's door, you had to rush him to doctor amari, serious

you didn't leave his side the whole time she was patching him up, squeezing his hand in yours while holding back tears

when he finally wake up, he gives you a drowsy smile and says, "well damn, i thought i made it to heaven with such a beautiful angel waking me up."

you laughed and finally let your tears flow, a weight off of your chest as you leaned down and finally kissed him

you could feel his breath hitch against your mouth before he returned the kiss, his rough lips pushing back against yours

doctor amari shooed you off him to check his vitals and make sure he was stable, well stable enough for a ghoul before sending him off with a clean bill of health

nate was waiting outside of the memory den for the two of you with his arms crossed and a knowing look on his face

he gave hancock the protective "if you hurt her I'll kill you" speel that you're sure your father would've given him back in the dayand you couldn't help but smile as he reminded you of your fallen family member

you hugged nate tightly and smiled as you felt his arms wrap tightly around you, a silent 'i love you' from him

pulling back and lacing your hand with hancock's, the three of you set off once again into the commonwealth, ready to face whatever was in store for all of you

a/n: im so sorry yall i kinda ran rampant with this one /pos

[draped1ncerecloth]

Hear me out, Nick Valentine x TransMasc Reader

First off, bro is hot. No reason for the robot detective to have my mind in a grip.

SECOND, the disconnect from his own body/personality makes it match with the struggles the reader would also have so erm 😞

Nick Valentine x Trans masc reader

Some good old fashioned fluff since he’s perfect for it.

Warnings: tooth decaying sweetness, mentions of body dysphoria, swearing, ooc Nick valentine.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

“Have you figured anything out yet?” Nick called from his desk, sorting through the paper work as you scanned over your own newly discovered clues. “Nothing. I can’t seem to figure out we’re this bitch could be camping out at!” You sigh in frustration at the current project you had spend days of restless nights, the heat of the summer days and the soaked sweat clothes you’re currently drenched in makes the already tedious task much more daunting. It’s been about a year now since you first met Nick, him helping you with your issues and you of course saving him from people who wanted him dead. You hadn’t really known why Nick had been caught but all that had mattered was that you saved his ass and he was eternally grateful.

“Well, the sooner we are to figuring this out, the sooner we are to finding this man and putting him behind bars.” Nick called back. He never really took much bite of your tone or the way you would grow even more agitated by his words in the current moment. There was nothing he had done wrong but they way your very old and worn binder had been cutting into you after a whole days work, and the way your clothes clung made the whole action of breathing so much more difficult. Pain spreading through your body and the lack of oxygen made the oncoming headache much worse. But hey, in the end at least it was more comfortable and reassuring than anything else.

After some shuffling of the files Nick had neatly written and tucked away had been dropped and the way you let out a loud sigh, Nick finally popped out of his chair and asked if you were doing ok. Unfortunately this pissed you off to no extent. “No! I’m not alright Nick! I and tired I’m hot I can breath and worst of all, I can’t seem to figure this out!” Your hands thrown in the air as you fully turn to him, he watched in silence as he let you express what’s you felt. He knew you weren’t mad at him or whatever he might’ve said but he didn’t understand what had you this upset to begin with. “Hey, calm down kid, why don’t you take a seat and just breath.”

You threw the remaining files in your hand, down on the table and laughed. “I fucking can’t breath, I’m hot, I’m exhausted, I feel like my ribs are about to break, I need to take this off!” He watched in shock as you quickly removed your shirt and revealed your binder, quickly shoving your shirt back down and sucking as much air as you could. The pain was excruciating, and your back cracked from new found freedom of mobility. Then you sat. Only then did you start to cool down. To relax. To focus on breathing and letting the pain wash over you and out. “Forgot to take it off again?” He asked quietly, walking over to your side and rubbing your shoulders. “Mmhm.” He said, taking in his touch. “That’s unsafe, you need to be more mindful about these things, you could get hurt you know?” Nick tried to comfort you. “It’s unsafe but for me, I feel more safe. It’s….” You stopped yourself.

“It’s what dear?” He questioned. Worry washing over him. “It’s not like you really realize just how comforting it is to bind.” You winched at the way you said it, the way you doubted how much he cared made you feel guilty.

“You’re right, I don’t know the full extent of how much you need it kid, but I do know how important the comfort of needing something like that can be.” The synth let out a sigh and moved to sit on the desk in front of you. “Look, you know it doesn’t make me see you as any less. I am not bothered by you needing to take a break from binding. But it can be dangerous if done incorrectly, and you know this.”

“I know. I just don’t know how to explain it. It’s like, without it. I am just. Wrong.” You tried to puzzle your words together but only ending with half made sentences. “You feel as if, it is not who YOU are. That you’re incomplete.” You nodded. “Look kid, I love you, I hate to see you in pain. I can’t say I know how you feel but I myself have my own feelings about myself too.” He removed his coat and took his fedora off, setting them on the table. “A robot programmed to basically be part human. Used for something that I never turned out to fit. There’s no one like me, I don’t know who or what I am. But I do know that even though I can’t be at peace with what is missing, I do know I make peace with what is there.”

Nick and you talked back and forth about your own insecurities and he himself opened up slightly about his. Though things were different for each other, you still found that you felt the same about these situations. Standing up, you wrapped your arms tightly around him and Nick did the same in return. “I love you Nick, thank you.” You mumbled to him.

“I love you too darling. Now, let’s pick up these files and get you cleaned up and relaxed. It’ll all be okay.”

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Authors note: Sorry this is short, I haven’t gotten much time w Nick valentine yet!! I do wanna explore his companion ship now that I finally got to play with him♥️

[sinisterexaggerator]

Hard Feelings

Hancock x Fem! Sole Survivor / Reader Insert

(AO3)

Summary: You are the General of the Minutemen. Hancock is your companion when out on missions. It's all fun and games until there are hard feelings at play, the ghoul thinking that one day you just might leave him.

Warnings: NSFW / 18+ for PiV sex, public sex (sort of), MAKEUP sex, switching, praise kink, heavy petting and kissing, fingering, biting, angst, a small domestic dispute, and negative thoughts and feelings associated with oneself (Hancock). In this fic, Hancock displays golden retriever boyfriend energy, and he is more submissive. He also experiences low self-worth, and feelings of inadequacy, which leads to doubt. At some point, he has a panic attack.

Notes: Another fanfic that is completely self-indulgent. I was inspired when I took Hancock to the Starlight Drive-In for the Minutemen mission. We were briefly separated when I (sole) climbed onto the roof of the movie screen. Hancock ran around down below in a panic, thus this idea blossomed; I mention it in this post. I stole Teeth's nickname for Hancock: Hanni. ;D )

Word count: 4.7k+

A gentle peal of thunder rocked the night, just hours from daybreak, the eerie green glow of your pre-war Pip-boy casting its luminescence across the present object of your interest: a sullied movie poster. It was curling at its edges, the faded face of a starlet frozen in time with her mouth agape having snatched your attention, for better or worse, as this potential settlement had yet to be explored—there was no telling what lurked out there among the shadows.

Rita Jean Scarlett was staring into the eyes of not man, but insect, The Barfly calling out to you from a bygone era. It was an Old World tale of weird science gone wrong, filled with hubris and lessons learned all too late. Not too far off from the reality of things, you mused, though meant as fiction, actor Chip Weathers having adorned the costume of the “ghastly” monster for his starring role. 

The creature had bulbous eyes and sticky clawed feet, yet wore a suit and hat. Once considered the stuff of nightmares, now things like this seemed to you like child’s play. You regularly joined in the company of ghouls; robots; synthetic humans, and even super mutants. You faced adversaries on the daily that would make prey animals of yesteryear look like teddy bears—an unnerving thought, but it caused you to smile regardless. 

“What are you grinnin’ about?” a curious voice asked, the creak of worn red leather signaling his closeness; two thin arms encircled you, pitted hands smoothing over skintight, extruded rubber, shiny as the ghoul’s black eyes.

“Just about how things that used to be science fiction are now science fact,” you offered vaguely, casting a glance downward to the sight of yourself being molested, Hancock groping your tit—like any typical man—before it maneuvered lower, gliding over your belly to dip between your thighs.

“Hancock!” you breathed, your pulse quickening, loins already beginning to throb as blemished fingers stroked the line of your vault suit, teasing you at its seam. 

“Hmm?” he hummed, ignoring the tone in which he had been addressed. He asked another question, even as he continued to fondle you sans mercy.  

“Things like me?” 

Hancock was unhurried, enjoying the sleek texture of the glossy fabric against the underside of his thumb. He was positive he was making you wet, wondering how long you might last before you were begging him to fuck you, just like a few hours previous.

However, his query caught you off guard, your mind preoccupied as your palm came to rest over John’s explorative hand, holding it firm, the ghoul taking liberty with your breasts again, cupping one’s shape to give it a squeeze.

“Things that shouldn’t exist? Like that monster up there who thinks he’s human,” he growled silkily, finely wrinkled digits pinching your pebbled nipple through that damnable suit that left nothing to the imagination, John’s prick hardening against the back of your leg.

“You might say that,” you replied without thinking, thoughts clouded with pleasure that would all too suddenly end, so careless was your answer that the ghoul recoiled.

“Really,” John flatly returned, as if for some reason not at all surprised, his warm, gentle touch leaving you longing, confused as to why he was beginning to walk away.

You turned from the ticket booth, staring after your lover as he kicked a loose rock across asphalt; it bounced, ricocheting off an overturned cigarette machine. Hancock pretended to be engrossed in the diner just up ahead, a part of the Starlight Drive-In theater, you both having been warned about raiders before traveling here.

“Hancock.” You followed closely behind; he did not pay you any mind, as if he had not heard you, acting about as mature as a spoiled child who was giving you the dreaded silent treatment.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you claimed, though it was the truth. To be asked that question to begin with seemed like he was fishing for flattery, but who were you to deny the charismatic Mayor of Goodneighbor a harmless stroke to his ego, especially when he meant so much to you.

“Is that where the “might” part comes in?” he snapped, his tone irritated; it was becoming obvious that he had not expected you to agree with him on such matters, the conversation quickly devolving. 

“Is this our first fight? Are we fighting?” you asked, Hancock’s beady eyes narrowing beneath his hairless brow at the flippant way you were brushing off his feelings, or so he thought. 

“Look, if you don’t want to travel with a ghoul, why didn’t you just say so— got better things I could be doing,” he groused, namely chems with his name on them. 

“Is that so? Well, far be it from me to stop you from doing those better things,” you returned, not understanding why he couldn’t just forgive you for something said in passing.

“Always a smart ass,” he complained, as if Hancock himself wasn’t guilty of using his fair share of sarcasm.

Had you not been so heated, you may have remembered just how self-conscious the sociable, charming mayor actually was. His confidence was partially a façade, though he wasn’t one to normally bring down a mood with his own insecurities. Being the introspective sort meant that Hancock wasn’t afraid to get to the heart of things, even at the cost of his own self-esteem. 

John had even allowed you in, being vulnerable by sharing details of his sorrowful past; it was no secret the ending had been bittersweet, if not unhappy. His own appearance had sickened him; he found it hard to believe a gal like you wanted anything to do with him, much less desire to share a bed together, especially since he wasn’t exactly a looker by human standards.

Perhaps you had failed to give him reassurance when it was needed, though temporarily blinded by your temper. Instead of trying to clear things up, you made it worse. 

“You’d be one to know,” you baited.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Hancock shot back, droplets of rain beginning to descend toward the ground.

“You know what? Go over there, check that place out.” You gruffly dismissed him, pointing toward the diner. “I think we both need some time to cool off,” you added, voice sounding less than amicable toward the man whose forehead lurched, as if he had been punched in the gut. 

“Yeah? Fine.” John’s feelings were hurt more by this simple demand than anything you had said thus far, Hancock behaving like a scolded puppy whose owner had treated it unfairly.

You shook your head as you watched him march away, Hancock’s red frock coat glistening thanks to a now steady sprinkle. You sighed, turning toward a slew of rusting, run-down autos, spying a shed somewhere in the distance—you hoped it had a crafting station, as your orders from Preston Garvey were clear.

---

No raiders were present, only mole rats and radroaches. Hancock had kept his distance at your request, though you weren’t so oblivious that you failed to notice the way he routinely hovered only a stone’s throw away. The ghoul was caught basking in your shadow more than once, stealing glimpses, a frown pulling down the edges of his thin-lipped mouth. Yet he would move along the moment you laid your eyes on him, as if embarrassed, not wishing to be the victim of your ire.  

Overall, he seemed to be taking things about as well as you had hoped, though he had technically been the one to start it. You weren’t a mind reader, either, refusing to try and decipher his body language despite the moping, waiting for a time you felt more at ease.

Although, it undeniably tugged at your heartstrings—knowing he was suffering in some capacity—but you kept a clear head, focusing on the task at hand—building a radio relay tower from spare parts in order to reach out to others, reclaiming the theater in the name of the Minutemen with the sole purpose of making the Commonwealth a better place, one settlement at a time.

It was when another accursed mole rat burst forth from its earthy den that you yelped in surprise, drawing your double-action revolver almost a moment too late. With teeth nipping at your toes, you shot the beast, Hancock having dashed to your aid.

You glanced back at him, rattled; he seemed satisfied knowing you weren’t hurt, though his gaze lingered, as if there was something on the tip of his tongue. 

After a moment, he asked, “Can we talk?”

“Not right now.” You shook yourself off, taking a deep breath to assist in the slowing of your pulse. You returned to your workstation, deciding it wasn’t appropriate to address any more personal issues at this juncture—you both had a job to do.

“Sure, got it,” Hancock said grouchily, the ghoul wandering off to continue sifting through various piles of refuse for any usable materials to add to your haul, though inside it felt as if gnarled fingers were cinching tightly around his heart. Anxiety was welling within him, as not being on good terms with you did not sit right; beneath the surface, he was a troubled bundle of nerves, though he did not want to rush you by any means.

If only you knew about the disturbing thoughts that were crawling up John’s brainpan, slithering through the cracks to possess his mental faculties, feeding them fear; unsurety, outwardly expressed by way of a sour attitude. So involved was he with the many voices collecting in his head, that he failed to notice when you had finished installing the relay tower, your instincts guiding you to the Starlight Drive-in’s once magnificent three-story screen.

You took the stairs, moving past a shoddy door to climb to the top. The sun was newly risen, a fine mist hanging over the expansive parking lot, rays of light from your planet’s star casting a beautiful glow along remnants of grass, present in patches, though the area was plagued by the contamination of rads—another item on your to-do list. 

You were enjoying the view when you observed Hancock poking around the last place he’d seen you, determining you were in a better mood and willing to talk. You had planned to call out to him when you saw him run the other way, circling the diner, and then the first place you had gathered—the ticket booth where you had exchanged unpleasantries. 

Confused, you continued your study of his erratic behavior, wondering if there was some unknown enemy skulking about, yet Hancock had no weapon drawn, his gait all at once frantic and without rhyme or reason, the ghoul seeming to have no particular destination in mind. 

“Hancock?” you asked yourself quietly, baffled at how John was going insofar as to peek inside doorless cars, or even under them, kicking into a full-fledge run as he made his way toward your perch. He wasn’t paying heed to anything that wasn’t at ground-level, failing to notice you up high above.

“Han—” you were enthralled, the ghoul almost as fast as a feral, which was a less than comforting thought, watching as John ran a lap around the base of the screen. 

You followed, pushing off the railing to walk the few short steps to the opposite side, catching him turn the corner as he looped back around. It wasn’t until you heard his panicked breathing and the terrified whisper of your name that you completely understood, gut clenching as Hancock came to a disconcerting stop. 

The poor thing looked to be having a meltdown, head darting to the left and right, though the only thing visible to you was the top of his tricorn hat. He began to pace, first one direction, and then another, not keeping to east or west, but zigzagging as if he couldn’t decide where to go, or what to do. 

He called your name again, this time louder, sounding more distressed. You could not tear your eyes away as Hancock fell to his knees, fingers digging into soft dirt as the ghoul appeared to be in the throes of a panic attack.

Was he—

Spurred to action, you turned toward the way you came in, quick to rush down the stairs as swiftly as your legs could carry you. You sprinted around the bend of the building, nearly bumping into an abandoned cooking station off to your right, skirting it in the nick of time; you passed behind the structure, witness to a heartbreaking sight.

“Hey,” you whispered, Hancock having pushed himself back against the wall, knees to chest. The ghoul was tightly hugging his own legs, his marred face buried in the folds of his coat.

You weren’t sure what was happening, or why, only that he seemed deeply upset he could not find you, not expecting your brief absence would have such a negative effect. The ghoul was mumbling words you could not discern as you tiptoed forward, bending down to his level to address his huddled form.

“Hanni?” you asked gently, calling him by a pet name you had given him so long ago, John’s head shooting up, onyx eyes glistening, though you dare not think he had shed tears on your behalf. 

Hancock gazed at you, his expression a mix of sadness, incredulity, and stark relief. You placed a hand on his shoulder, concern marking your features, John not budging from his half-fetal position. 

“I thought—" he began, voice cracking, words quavering with an emotion you could not quite define, “—I thought you’d skipped out on me,” he offered pathetically, the amount of hurt present in his eyes enough to make you feel as if you deserved to die. So devastating was the look plastered across his handsome, ghoulish face that you wanted to cry, moving to cup his ruined cheek in the crux of your palm.

“Why would I do that?” you asked, tone soft but firm, staring at your reflection within gorgeous, dark depths, as if the answer lay hidden somewhere deep inside them.

“Because I don’t deserve you; because you can do better than me,” he answered without hesitation, “because who would want to be stuck with this ugly mug; wouldn’t wish it on my own worst enemy,” he finished flatly, Hancock’s dispirited disposition arising from being rejected—that’s not to say he blamed you.

“Didn’t wanna talk, ignoring me, couldn’t find you—just figured you were through,” he continued, tone solemn, making you feel awful. 

You had deeply sinned to make this man react in such a manner—that was your first thought, Hancock’s gloomy mood permeating your defenses. All the walls you had in place came tumbling down, feeling nearly sick to your stomach as you scooched forward, prompting Hancock to drop his knees, legs finding even ground.

“No,” you berated, “none of that is true.” You shifted, straddling the ghoul, your other hand joining its partner to cradle his jaw opposite. “I won’t leave you,” you pledged, placing a kiss atop his furrowed mouth. “The thought never even crossed my mind.”

Hancock searched your face; he expelled a dejected sigh, breathing out through the hollow cavity that once housed his human nose. “You—you’re the best thing I’ve got. I don’t want to lose you, sunshine. I’d be dead in a ditch somewhere if it weren’t for you, hopped up on chems,” he admitted, hanging his head. “But don’t think I would blame you for hittin’ the road. I’d manage, somehow. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to make do, so just say the word. Don’t feel obligated to stick around.” 

“Is that what you think? That I would abandon you? That I would get sick of you? That I don’t want you here by my side? Hancock—” you emphasized, running your thumb over the curve of his ear, forcing him to look squarely at you with a gentle redirection, “—I mean it when I say I love you,” you lamented, kissing his raised flesh. “Please, don’t doubt me.” 

John lifted his head with your help, the concave divot residing front and center brushing lightly across your cheek. He presented you with a kiss this time, his cock enlivening beneath you, unable to help his arousal at the admission of your heartfelt words. 

“I won’t, not anymore,” he promised, another kiss administered, and then another, returning each touch of his lips with one of your own until they picked up in fervor, Hancock’s sly tongue subtly snaking its way between your teeth. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” you cooed, warm, wet muscles intertwining in an orchestrated dance that rekindled the deep-seated ache of your loins. 

“You listen so well,” you needled playfully; you had the ghoul’s number, knowing just what made him tick.

Hancock moaned a sound of gratitude, your impromptu praise causing his prick to flex, lean, wilted fingers creeping forward to place themselves deliberately along your thighs; they ran up the dips in your hips, and smoothed over the shape of your waist.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Hancock grated between avid swirls. His cock was riding up against your slinky blue vault suit—like liquid latex poured to conform to your body, it fit tight as a glove.

John held no complaints, only that you were still wearing it. Fortunately, you had ideas. 

“Being such a good boy for me,” you teased, your own hands roving, exploring the contours of his slender chest and waist, sweeping back and forth; you hooked his partially corroded throat, carefully capturing Hancock between the crook of your palm, thumb trailing his Adam’s apple in a light caress. 

“Not sure you know what that does to me,” he purred, the ghoul at your mercy as you gyrated your hips, your own sex succinctly aligned as you massaged his erection through faded black slacks.  

“Are you so sure?” you asked, grinning into your kiss, one of Hancock’s hands sneaking along synthetic fibers for three fingers to stroke the underside of your jumper. He pushed up only slightly, cupping your mound; you felt it in your core, a subdued moan breathed straight into the ghoul’s mouth—Hancock was so turned on, it was a wonder he didn’t just nut right then and there.

“You teasin’ me, sunshine?” John panted, groping your breast, digits fingering stitchwork; you bit down on your bottom lip as you reached for the clasp at the front of your collar.

“Get this off me,” you instructed, fumbling with the pull of your zipper.

“Is that a request?” Hancock asked cheekily, though he did not expect an answer.

“An order,” you responded, feigning authority, Hancock doing as he was told, though there was a hint of a smile crawling up the side of his face. 

“Yes, ma’am,” the ghoul chortled wryly, watching as you shed your suit like a second skin. You ushered it past the arc of your shoulders, the slopes of your breasts, to the base of your hips, leaving yourself half naked and assailable; John was unable to help his amorous stare.

“You’re so beautiful,” he declared, moving to knead doughy flesh, mouth finding your throat; Hancock sucked the sweat off your flawless skin, his other hand working its way underneath what was left of your vault suit, two fingers dipping into your already soaked cunt. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, slipping in and out, thumb pushing itself between the folds of your labia to rub your throbbing bud. 

“Yes, let’s,” you returned, swirling your hips, riding Hancock’s thick fingers as you clumsily moved to untie the flag wrapped about his narrow waist. 

“Right here?” he asked, perplexed. Though not one to argue, being out in the open without cover was dangerous; he knew better than anyone the risks of the Wastes. 

“I want you,” you answered, as if that in and of itself was all he needed to hear. You knew there might be consequences, but at that moment, your hormones were the ones in charge, a sharp gasp escaping as John’s fingers curled against the anterior wall of your sex.

“I’m all yours, love, forever,” Hancock vowed, following your example. He hastily unbuckled his pants after releasing your tit with reluctance, pushing apart the flaps to withdraw his glaring hard on; precum was already seeping out the slit at its head. 

“Promise me,” you insisted, lifting up off your thighs—and Hancock’s fingers—to shimmy the rest of your suit down toward your knees. It might be a little awkward, but you were too desperate to care, taking up the ghoul’s girth in the breadth of your palm.

“Cross my heart and hope to—” 

“Don’t you dare,” you protested, shoving your tongue back into John’s mouth, guiding his cock inside you. You sank down onto your haunches, inch by delicious inch, his variegated shaft filling you full up.

Then, the ghoul went rigid. “But sunshine, what about—” 

“Shhh, that’s it,” you whispered, though Hancock hadn’t done anything to warrant a reprimand. It was your own descent that had you crooning, dipping forward to feel that delightful pressure snug against your walls. 

“Not sure you wanna end up like—”

“—I took one a few hours ago, remember?” The darling man was more concerned with your well-being than even you; you could physically feel the tension leaving his body, John relieved to know you had things under control.

“You do love me,” you stated breezily, flicking the tip of your tongue inside the helix of the ghoul’s ear; Hancock shuddered, both his hands returning to your hips, touch featherlight, prompting you to press your palms against the partition behind him to prop yourself up on either side of his head.

“Wouldn’t mind you turnin’ Ghoul,” he replied throatily, thinkin’ spending an eternity with you sounded like the best damn thing a guy could ask for. 

Hancock watched with bated breath as you rose up to enshroud him in your shadow, breasts level with his eyes. He groaned his appreciation, seizing your right nipple between puckered lips, John’s bony hips pushing up against the round of your ass. The ghoul sucked diligently, dull nails clawing gingerly into supple, human flesh, incapable of keeping a straight face.

“What was all that about not doubting each other?” John huskily reminded you, the point of his tongue flitting against your sensitive skin. He returned to suckling, as if a babe latched to nurse, the hand left idle finally slipping down your thigh. Hancock spread your lower lips apart with the underside of two fingers, a third taking its place atop your thrumming clit, engorged with blood. 

“Shut up,” you urged, wanting him to belay speaking for fear the moment might spoil, Hancock grunting in indignation before he bit down lightly on your nip. 

You gasped a broken breath, cunt rising to the head of his cock. You dropped back down; Hancock bottomed out, sequestered in the deepest part of you, snug as anything, the ghoul hypnotized by your pretty writhing. 

“Why don’t you make me.” Hancock intensified the patient revolutions of blotched fingers, dragging you down by compressing your cheeks with his thumb and index; you slumped your shoulders just enough, angling to meet his current height, tossing your arms about John’s neck to humor him with another passionate kiss.

“Done.” You rocked forward, feeling Hancock’s sizeable member immured to its base. Indecent sounds kept each other company, the squish of your conjoined loins combining with the wet, obscene spirals of your whorling tongues. It wouldn’t take much longer to climax, your slick cunt tightening its grip on John’s rock-hard cock. 

The ghoul’s chest heaved between ragged breaths, Hancock practicing his self-control. He didn’t want to cum until you did, sliding his palm up to carefully cradle the small protrusion distending your lower abdomen. 

Feeling the outline of himself inside you was nearly too much to handle, a visible tremor preceding what was to be an early warning.

“I-I can’t hold back, angel.”

“Wait,” you countered, guiding the ghoul’s head toward your breasts, driving his noseless face into your cleavage; Hancock’s tricorn shifted backward as he followed your lead. He vested himself in the cocoon of your limbs,  moaning his approval, grabbing onto a fistful of ass as your back arched in pleasure. 

You opened your eyes to gaze at the sky—it was pale blue and cloudless, for once.

You came hard, the flat of John’s palm supporting your spine as you released your ecstasy to the heavens, the ghoul’s tepid seed discharging in spurts to paint your inner walls white; his ejaculate had been offered as payment for your lovely little song.

The ghoul felt overwhelmed and full of deep affection for you; Hancock’s teeth bore down on beautiful, unblemished skin; he broke capillaries, drawing your blood to the surface, leaving his mark in the form of a dark red welt. 

You gasped at the bite, Hancock ensconcing you tightly in his arms, both of you allowing your orgasms to run their course. His grip was a comfortable vise, brittle nails burrowing into lithe flesh with almost paradoxical tenderness; John was always so careful with you.

From an outsider’s perspective, the embrace of a ghoul meant certain death, with the expectancy you would be rent into unrecognizable pieces. Such a pose as you presented now was questionable, one that evoked alarm from bystanders, settlers who had followed the beacon to their new home, expecting to find the general of the Minutemen, but not like this.

“Ghoul!” someone shouted; you heard the shuffling of leather, the clink of metal.

“No!” you yelled, protecting your lover with the entirety of your body, encapsulating his slight frame. You shielded his vitals with your bare back, hunkering down to speak to these newcomers over the peak of your shoulder. 

“He’s not feral!” you growled, hating that you had to defend him, knowing how John must feel at this moment as he gazed up at you with surprised, wide eyes. You cared not that a horde of people had seen you naked; you only cared for Hancock, determined to preserve him and all his parts.

In reality, the ghoul was seconds from tears, knowing—without a doubt—that you had meant what you said. You were guarding his wretched life with your own without question, willing to die to keep him from harm, just as he gladly would have sacrificed himself to see you live another day. 

A day, he thought, that might have been better off without him, but now he was glad to be alive (in some form or another), swallowing hard against the knot in his throat, eyes never once leaving your impassioned face.

“We’re together; we came here together, and we will leave here together, do I make myself clear?”

A person stepped forward, separating themselves from the crowd. “Yes, General,” they said, having fortunately, or rather unfortunately, recognized you.

With a sigh of relief, those gathered departed. John practically smothered you, so forceful was his hug that it nearly choked the air from your lungs. 

Hancock didn’t know what he’d done to get someone like you, and he was afraid to ask. If there were any powers at be—something, or someone—watching over him, he supposed he’d owe them one, but for now he was more than happy to count his blessings. And the sad thing was, everything, all of it, could be a dream—or one long, hallucinatory chem-trip. If this turned out to be nothing but a fucked up Jet flashback, he’d just as soon never wake up. 

“I’ll follow you to the end of the Wastes,” Hancock blurted, voice strained and rasping, fingers; arms; chest tightening as he spoke against soft tufts of hair. “You and me together, the world ain’t got a prayer.”

Despite what had just transpired, you cradled him against the bow of your neck, oblivious to the inner workings of his mind, only wishing to absorb him, for him to live in the space between your ribs that stored your heart. All you wanted was to keep him safe for all time, knowing that he deserved the world, though the ghoul would most certainly outlive you. 

It was a melancholy thought, if ever one existed, but you did not allow your mind to dwell. “Sweet man,” you murmured, “it doesn’t stand a chance in hell.”

—-

Fallout Masterlist

[wastelandbfs]

Rating: Teen and Up Chapters : 2/?

Synopsis

Home Plate Cafe is a cosy escape from the hustle and bustle of Diamond City, the radio plays softly as patrons enjoy an assortment of coffees, teas, and baked goods. Nora has settled into this slower pace of life and has come to adore the little things: the sound of teacups tinkling against their saucers, the soft glow of the fairy lights in the window, the smell of warm sourdough and arabica coffee. But mostly she enjoys the steady stream of customers and the simple fact that every day, without fail, Nick Valentine will stroll through the door and send her heart racing.

[steampunkferretpresents]

I don’t really write much. Thought I would practice.

A Tranquil Evening

Just a short scene walking through the wasteland with Hancock.

Here I am, a 40-year-old woman, my long red braid moving with the breeze, decked out in my stained, ripped and repaired vault suit and carrying a plasma rifle. Beside me, Hancock.

Now, this ghoul, dressed in his signature red colonial coat and tricorn hat, has this undeniable pirate-like swagger.

He pretends not to be enamored, but his eyes say it all.

We walk through the skeletal remains of a once-thriving city, now shrouded in various unpleasant smells and darkness.

The green glow in the sky, remnants of the latest rad storm, gives everything an eerie, almost otherworldly feel.

Dogmeat, ever loyal, trots beside us, completely oblivious to the ominous vibes permeating the air.

Me too.

I glance at Hancock and smile.

If his ghoul skin could blush, it would be now.

He sheepishly places a hand on the back of his neck and looks down, trying to hide the warmth in his black eyes.

We've seen so much, been through hell and back, through adrenaline fueled, life and death situations, but moments like these are what make me really feel alive.

As we walk, I can feel the eyes on us peering from the shadows of abandoned buildings.

They watch, but they don't dare approach.

Maybe it's the rifle slung across my back, or maybe it's Hancock's reputation. Maybe it’s MY reputation?

Who am I kidding. It’s Dogmeat’s reputation.

Whatever the case, they let us be.

Hancock's voice breaks the silence.

“You know,” he says, his tone casual but laced with a hint of something deeper. “I don't mind the company. Makes the night a little less dark.”

| smile softly.

“Well, somebody's gotta keep you out of trouble,” I reply, my voice teasing.

He laughs, a raspy sound that always sounds so endearing.

“Guess that's your job now, huh?”

We continue walking, the silence between us comfortable, filled with unspoken words and shared history.

The city's ruins loom around us, the remnants of a forgotten world.

But with Hancock by my side, the darkness feels a little less oppressive.

The wasteland might be harsh, but it's moments like these that remind me why I keep going.

We reach a small clearing, the remnants of a park, perhaps.

The green glow casts eerie shadows, but there's a strange tranquility here.

I sit on a crumbling bench, patting the space beside me.

Hancock hesitates for a moment, then joins me.

For a while, we just sit there, side by side, watching the world around us.

Dogmeat lies at my feet, content and oblivious.

Hancock reaches out, his hand hovering near mine, then pulls back. It’s dark. I don’t think he knows I saw.

I catch his eye and smile again.

“The night's not so bad when you've got good company,” I say softly.

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “not bad at all.”

In the heart of the wasteland, amidst the ruins and the glowing eyes, we find a moment of peace.

And for now, that's enough.

[mrs-mayor-hancock]

Morning Bliss

Hancock x reader (fluff)

——————

The sky was just starting to get light. You and Hancock had a rough night, super mutants had tried to attack Goodneighbor again in the middle of the night. Once you’d finally fought them off you were both so exhausted and hardly had any energy to climb the stairs to your shared bedroom.

You were snapped back to reality when your husband rolled on top of you in his sleep. Annoyed, you shoved him off and sat up, you placed your feet on the wooden floor and started to stand up before being pulled back onto the bed, “Where do you think you’re going?” Hancock asked. He kissed your temple, tucked you into his side, and pulled the blankets over you. You placed one leg in between his and laid your head on his chest, his heart beat at a slow and steady pace. One of his hands rested on your hip while the other stroked your hair.

Within minutes you were feeling extremely sleepy. You tilted your head up to look at him and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. You made out with him for a while, but stopped before it went too far, you both knew you wouldn’t have the energy to do anything. You both laid there in silence, just enjoying each other’s company. As the sky started changing colors, both of you fell asleep enjoying a blissfully quiet morning.

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

what if. consider this. what if,,,,,,,,,,,, pirate-Eclipse using Romanced Hancock Fallout4 lines

also pov ur pirate husband is cute and sappy and smooth as hell but ur just a fish and ur tiny fish heart cant take it

[kellygreeny]

Christmas in Diamond City

Chapter 3: Giving the Synth his Christmas Spirit back

Notes: Last chapter of this little christmas story and I did it finishing it in time :D It started of a bit angsty but it is a mix of the two previous chapters. I made some ridiculous in Game references, which I already had in the last one. I still hope that the pacing is ok and I´ve got the characterisation right. But I´m already proud of myself that I published anything I wrote! :D

Words: 3.5 k

Nick and Nora stared at each other and the room became silence. So silent that Nora could hear Nick´s pumps, which wasn´t surprising. She could directly look at them, working in his open chest.

The air felt thick, both didn´t even dare to blink and after a moment which felt like hours, Nick spoke up, cut the unbearable silence.

“SHUT THE DOOR!” He said almost screaming. He was glad that his door was towards a dead end and therefore obscured.

Nora needed a second to process this and her body moved prior to her mind. She closed the door. After turning back to Nick, she could see that he was fuming and she might saw some steam coming out of him, but that might be the cigarette in his hand. He tried to fight his anger down.

“Sorry, I thought you were out, I just wanted to grab something from your office. And I would had left a note and.“ Nora stumble over her words, still not sure how to react to the situation.

“What´s the matter, Nora? I´m not keen to bee seen like this,” He opened his arms that she could see more into his open chest where tubes coming in and out, “but I can´t run away either like you might have guessed.” He tried to settle his emotions. It was just Nora. She saw him way worse, but he really didn´t like to be seen like this. But why was she here in the first place? Why didn´t Ellie catch her before she stumble into his LOCKED office? His logic thinking took over which helped settle his emotions.

“I´m sorry, but I have no problem seeing you like this. It´s not like I didn´t know what I have to expect. Can I sit down? Please?” She really needed to calm her self and if she didn´t sit down, she would walk up and down the whole time. He gestured to the chair in front of the other side of the desk he was sitting at.

Normally, he would lean forward, but in his situation, this wasn´t really possible. The tubes had the right length for his current position. It was hard enough to find some which were clean enough for this purpose. Dirt wasn´t good for his pumps. Sure, he has filters, which he also needed to exchange them every now and then depending on how much his coolant was contaminated through punctured and damaged tubes. He even has the feeling that some bacteria felt quite well in his life-hostile body. Just another thing on his long maintenance list. He felt old.

Nora sat down. “Before I come to my matter. I would guess, you need to exchange your coolant for the winter. Why did you make a big deal out of it? Why didn´t Ellie give you company? Why didn´t you ask me to help you?”

Nick put his cigarette on the ashtray on his desk and let his hands fall to his tights, still trying not to touch the tubes. He started to avoid her gaze. “Can an old synth not have some quality time during his maintenance?”

“Nick, you don´t need to sleep, there you would have all the time you need for yourself.” He ignored her comment.

“And yes, I need some new frost save coolant. It´s not like we got a weather forecast telling you if the nuclear winter is getting icy or not coming at all. And I can tell you, I experienced both.”

“So, you wanted to be sure?”

“Ice can damage my pumps, of course I wanted to be sure. Can we come to your matter. It´s really not a big deal, Nora. I just want to be alone when I´m doing this.” He point vaguely at his chest and laid his hand back to his tights, carefully.

“Can you remember, when we found this perfectly preserved chocolate powder and marshmallows? It was just too good to be true. It made me sad, somehow.”

“I can. I promised to keep it until we find your son and then you can enjoy this with him.”

“That was at a time, where I almost lost the hope to find him, but you didn´t let me giving it up. Now we found him. I mean it´s complicated but what isn´t since the bombs dropped. Am I right?” She let out a hallow chuckle.

Nick turned his head and look at a drawer. “There you go, the in the right cabinet, the top drawer.”

Nora stood up. She passed Nick carefully and opened the drawer and there was it! She took the two boxes and put it in one of her big pockets.

“Thanks for keeping it for me. Now it is the perfect time to share this with my son. A hot chocolate taste best during this cold weather. And besides that, I wanted to celebrate Christmas with him. It would be his first one, so he is very excited.”

Nick swallowed but he caught himself. He wasn´t keen on the thought, bringing this old tradition back. Some of Nicks old memories came back. Jenny in a beautiful dress decorating the tree. No. This wasn´t his memories. He had another family, now. His OWN family. And it´s for the kid.

“OK, Nora, what is your plan?” Nick asked, still fighting with himself. Nora eased and explained him her plan.

“I can´t promise that the people will be open for that, but you can at least try and you can count on my help, but first.” He gestured to chest.

“Oh yes, sure. How long do you need?”

“Its´s almost done. And when you already here, you could help me.”

“What can I do?” Nora took a cautious step closer.

“You could hand me the bottle on the shelf there. I always need to put it above, so gravity helps the old pumps.”

“How does it feel?” Nora reached for the bottle and gave it to him.

“What do you mean? This?” He gestured to his chest, this time with the empty bottle of fresh anti-freeze coolant in hand.

“It does not hurt but it isn´t pleasant either. It´s a necessity. And I can´t really move during the process. A loose tube could cause a big mess. I might have a secretary but not a cleaning lady.” He put the bottle between his legs and grasped into his chest, started to rewire the tubes.

“What happened when you run out of coolant? It´s not like blood, right?”

“Am I in an interrogation?” He stopped and stared at her.

“Nick!” He sighted.

“Sorry doll, I don´t like to get to technical about this, about,” he swallowed, “me.”

“It´s fine. I´m just curious and I care for you, you know.”

“I know. It won´t kill me loosing coolant, but running out damage my pumps and you don´t get spare parts at the next property market. And if you know what happens then? My system probably overheat and more parts get damaged and that might kill me. So I try to avoid that.” Nick continued unplugging the tubes and plug them on other places in. Nora stares at this in fascination. Nick caught her gaze.

“Oh, sorry, I don´t want to stare. I just thought about how I could help you.” Nora lifted her hands in defends.

“If you don´t found it too disturbing that I work in my open chest, would you please provide me some light?”

“Nick, this isn´t the first time for me. Do you remember the time where you got shot in the abdomen and I needed to patch a hardly reachable tube and wire?” Nora took his desk lamp and brought the light cone in the direction of his chest.

“I successfully suppressed this memory.” Nick murmured and finished his maintenance. He cleaned everything with a towel he had beside him and applied some oil. The rust really became a problem, but with enough oil, it wasn´t a big issue, especially on his protected inside. He close his chest and finally started to ease.

“Done?” Nora asked.

“Done.” Nick said relieved. He started to bottom up his shirt or at least tried to. His good hand was oily and his metal hand always lack friction. Nora got around the desk to stand directly besides him.

“Can I help you?” Nick put the coolant bottles, the empty one and the one with the old coolant, on his desk. Turned to her, stood up and gave her an agreeing look. He felt defeated by his shirt and his greasy and messed up hands.

Nora came close and bottom up his shirt, really tender. He eased even more under her touch. All the anger, he felt before, was finally gone. Every time, Nick needed to open one of his plates, especially the chest one gave him so much stress. Physically, because he was vulnerable and mentally, because it made him aware what he was. Nora never cared for what he was. She always saw the man behind the machine and he really appreciated this.

When Nora was finished with her work, she gave him a short kiss on his cheek, took his bad hand and pulled him in the direction of the door. She always took his skeletal hand to show him how less she cared for his appearance.

“Come on, Shaun is waiting for us. And I hope he didn´t talk Pipers ears off.”

-

“Nick!” Shaun didn´t finished his sentence, he was talking to Piper and ran to his favorite Synth detective, when he saw him.

“Hey kiddo. Hi, Piper.” Nick greeted them. Shaun pumped into Nick and gave him a hug around his waist. Nick laid his good hand on Shaun´s back.

“So what´s your plan for this Christmas, Blue?” Piper asked and Nora grinned in response.

“OK, here is the plan.” She distributed the tasks. Piper went home and wrote an article to inform the people of the little festival which was coming to town. The first person, Piper talked to was Ellie. Piper should inform her, that Nick is currently at Nora´s place, so she didn´t need to worry. Ellie was glad that Piper was too distracted by her news that she forgot to asked about Nick´s little maintenance secret. She liked Piper but you needed to be careful what are you telling her. Some of it might end up in her little newspaper, if she ran out of ideas.

Nick and Nora were tinkering lights together, while Nick told Shaun about some of his cases. Shaun´s favorite one, was Nick´s first case, where he had pretended to have a bomb by making beep sounds to scare off some raiders.

Nora made hot water when they were finished. “Normally, we made this with milk, but I don´t really trust the brahmin milk and it´s expensive!”

“There is a reason, why this isn´t an essential nutrient source anymore.” Nick added and Nora chuckled as a response. She finished the hot chocolate with marshmallows and made a cup for her, Shaun and Piper. They thanked her and started enjoying their drinks.

“That´s really good, Blue.” Piper said.

“Delicious!” Shaun added.

“Nothing for me?” Nick said with a bit of played disappointment. They all looked at him not expecting that.

“I thought you can´t eat detective.” Piper broke the short silence.

“You can have some of mine.” Shaun offered.

“It´s fine. I actually can eat, but I don´t get anything out of it and most of it taste awful to me.” Nick explained.

“Do you wanna try?” Nora offered.

“No, this is something rare and you shouldn´t waste it on me.” Nick denied.

“I guess, I can spare a sip.” Nora offered, again.

“OK, but I can´t promise liking it.”

“That´s fine, but I don´t want you to miss out on something.” So, Nick took a small sip from Nora´s cup. The taste wasn´t as good as in Nick´s memories, but less awful than most of the food he tried as a synth. He still needed to hide his disgust, but he got practice in it. Since he had been a synth and therefore don´t really eat, he learned what it socially meant for people. It still was an important part of social structures. But most people accept that he don´t need to eat, even if it made him an outsider of this social event. It made him feel alienated but people were glad they didn´t have to share their food with him. It was a zero clearance.

The other looked at Nick anticipating.

“It´s good,“ He lied, “Can I have a cup? Not for me, but I guess Ellie would be happy to get one, too.”

“Sure! I still feel bad that I missed her this noon.” Nora prepared another cup and gave it to Nick. He gently touched her shoulder.

“Thank you. I guess, I will be back in the morning, so you can get some rest.”

“It´s already pretty late, maybe we should meet up, tomorrow, again.” Piper said, “I hope to get the article out tomorrow. Nat is already preparing copies.” Piper informed Nora before she left.

“That would be great.” Nora smiled, “Good night, everyone.”

-

“Let us do this.”

So they started decorated all around the market place in DC in the morning. People were asking what was going on or chatting over the article which Nat handed around. The information about their little festival was going around.

This only took until noon and so Nora had time until dawn to prepare the presents. It wouldn´t be something big but she hadn´t much time for it. This counted for the others, too.

The sun was slowly set and Nick helped Nora to prepare for turning on the lights. The whole city was gathering around the market. Even the one from the upper ranks looked over the railing down to the market with anticipation.

First they turned off all others lights, waited til the sun was completely set and then turned on the new lights. The market glowed in all colors. Everyone started to cheer. The merchants sold warm drinks and food. The mood of the people lid up like the lights around them.

Nora laid her arm around Nick´s waist and he did likewise.

“To be honest, I was a bit afraid of this.” Nick said, still enjoying their work with the lights.

“Why?” Nora asked.

“Some memories still haunt me. The ones, which aren´t mine, but they are still there. I still remember Jenny. She loved Christmas and Nick really loved her.” He sighted.

“What is grief if love not persevering.”

“I like that quote.”

He started humming and the humming slowing became a song. He sang. It wasn´t load. It didn´t get over the chatting around them. But he sang just for Nora to be heard. He sang for Nora like Nick had done for Jenny. His full heart was in there, even if had none.

Nora shed a tear, but she smiled. He never heard him singing. She wasn´t even sure if he was able to. But now, she was and it was beautiful. She lent closer, let her head rest on his chest, which was vibrating with the song. She could hear his inside, the pumps and fans, became harmonic with his song, like an orchestra.

When Nick was done, after a felt eternity, he looked down and looked at Nora. He cupped her face and brushed off her tears with his good hand.

“No need to cry, doll.” Nora needed to chuckle a bit. He stayed true to his name. She reached for his face, too and cupped it. She needed to be careful not putting her fingers into his cheeks through his gaps. They slowly lent closer, lips almost touching, until.

“Mom, what about the presents?” Shaun disturbed their intimate moment. In both adults crept the fear that this intimacy was made out of the moment and will never happen, again.

“They´re at home. I will come, soon.” Nora answered, trying not to sound disappointed.

“OK, but don´t take too long.” And he disappeared.

“Sorry, Nick, I need to go.” But before Nora could go, Nick took her hand, pulled back and kissed her. And she kissed him back. Her lips were soft and it was like he remembered kissing felt like. His lips were different, a bit rough, uneven and dry. But he knew what he was doing. They were holding tight and hands caressed each others back. They parted. It was a short kiss, but not less intense. Nora went to Homeplate but took Nick by his hand with her. And again by his skeletal hand. Both were smiling.

No one really noticed them, except for Myrna.

“I will never sell them anything anymore. Synth loving bitch.” She mumbled.

-

Nick, Nora, Shaun, Piper, Nat and Ellie met in Nora´s little home, which she had decorated, too. She also got a tree, which was more a small festive decorated pot plant. But under it were all the presents wrapped in old newspaper and other old papers. And there were a big bag, too, which Nora didn´t put there.

They started to unwrap the presents with their names on them. Shaun and Nat got a lot of old toys, Ellie good preserved clothes and Piper working pens and a really neat notebook.

“Who made this?” Piper asked holding the notebook.

“You might never know, that´s part of the presents. I told you about this.” Nora explained.

“I know, but I have some question and I want to say thank you.”

“You only get your answer, if the person wants to reveal himself.”

Piper huffed, but she was sure to find it out.

Nora got some sweets like a perfectly preserved cake and a functional camera, which she directly used to take some photos of the moment.

Nick got almost the same as Piper, but in his case, the pen was more notable. It was bigger, and the surface was rougher, so he could grip it better with his metal hand. Nick was, of course, right handed, which was very cynical of life. He always struggle writing with a pen, so he preferred terminal or typewriters, but sometimes he had to take notes and none of this was at hand. Running around with a typewriter, or several, would be ridiculous!

“What´s with the bag?” Shaun asked when all presents were unwrapped. Nick chuckled.

“I gathered some toys over the years. I wanted to give them to the children here, but I didn´t know how without looking like a pervert. People has some strange prejudice about me already. The only one, who got some were Nat.”

“There she got all the toys! Did you know how annoying some of them were?” Piper nudged Nick.

“Oh this is such a sweet idea. Let us help you!” Nora said beaming with joy.

So they went back to market place. Shaun and Nat told their friends, what was going on and after some hesitations, maybe because of Nick, the first one got his present by Nora. Then more children came. Nora told them that Nick brought the toys and at some point Nick was able to share the presents, too. The children were so happy and this in return made Nick and Nora smile. Many of them came back and thanked Nick for their presents. They hadn´t much toys before.

After all presents were shared, they drank some hot drinks, chatted and enjoyed the light until the people got tired and went back to their homes to get some rest. Nora brought Shaun to bed at some point but came back to the other adults to round off the night until only she and Nick were on the market place. And Takahashi.

“Don´t you want to go to bed, doll?” Nick asked concerned about his friend. He knew, she must be tired even if he couldn´t be.

“Yeah,” She yawned. “But the night is so beautiful. I don´t want it to end.” She lent against him. He was warm compared to the fresh air around them. Not as warm as another human but warm enough not to freeze in his nearness.

“Thank you for doing all this.” Nick said.

“What do you mean?”

“Everything. The Eddie Winter case, the old Nick, Jenny, you always treated me like I´m worth it, like I´m still human even if I´m not. You´re the best friend I have.” He looked at her as he wanted to cry but there were no tears, never will be.

“Oh Nick, you helped me, too. Without you, I would still searching for my son with no clue were to start. And I don´t care if you´re human or synth. You got a good heart and you are really good company and I might fell in love with you.” She gave him an honest smile and hugged him tight. He cupped her face and kissed her, again.

“I love you, too. I didn´t know if this was even possible, because I´m just an old bucket of bolts, but you showed me it is. And this is something, which truly belongs to me.”

Nick offered her a hand and invited her for a dance. “The last dance of the night, sweetheart?”

Nora took it and they danced under the colorful lights until the sun rises.

prev/next Chapter

Tag List: @psybrepunk