༻ ⊱The Ghoul x John Hancock x F!Reader - Fallout Fandom
༻ ⊱ 3k words
༻ ⊱ Some drug use mentioned & jealous men
༻ ⊱ I genuinely had no plan for this fic other than 'jealous ghouls' and a whole lot of self-indulgent day-dreaming. I'm just a sucker for the idea of these two fighting over you that I had to write it. So, excuse the lack of world-building and character development.
I might continue this, but let me know if you'd like a part 2 of some kind.
Hancock liked to pride himself on his people skills.
His intuition rarely let him down when it came to picking out the good apples amongst the burly, prickly sort that wandered in and out of Goodneighbor.
John had been right about you, after all. A right diamond in the rough, you had been. And the others he kept around him, those in the Neighborhood Watch and the locals that made a home in his town - they were were all good people. Just lost or discarded, needing a safe place to sort things out.
So, when you returned to Goodneighbor with a tag-along, John tried to keep a rather unbiased opinion about him. But there was…something. The stranger was like all the others that walked through Goodneighbor's gates. Guarded, on edge - a hand on his weapon while the other hung loosely by his side, nothing more than a feigned sign of calm. But with you by his side, there was no nonchalance or carefree body language. This stranger wasn't just guarded because of a new town but because he was guarding you.
It took John all of five seconds to notice how this stranger moved with you rather than trailing you like some lackey. He was step behind you, close enough that his hand brushed against your arm if you shifted an inch towards him but his attention was everywhere else.
A scowl would soften around the edges when he turned to you or his posture would shift to shield you from a loud noise from down the street.
It all seemed to be happening on instinct. Because you and this stranger were deep in conversation while passing through the gates. Unaware that Hancock - and he'll admit it sounded a little psychotic - had heard your voice amongst the daily racket and his attention snapped towards the gates as if Heaven had started calling him.
John saw you first. Travel dirty and fatigued, but grinning ear to ear. You had different armor on than when he last saw you. The old and worn leather gear had been replaced with something sturdier - you still wore the same old outfit underneath but were clearly better protected. The holes had been patched up, at least too. Your weapons looked new. At least new in the sense that Hancock didn't recall a rifle on your back and two pistols strapped to your hips part of your possessions when you left.
You looked like a proper Wastelander. Almost an ideal companion to the rugged, cruel looking cowboy at your side.
And it grated Hancock something fierce.
The stranger locked onto John first. And, oh boy, did something sharp fly between them. Two ghouls sizing each other up, eyes dark and stormy beneath the brims of their hats - the tension grew like a maelstrom. Churning and raging - until you found Hancock amongst the crowd and the Mayor's heart fluttered under the beaming light of your smile. A shaft of pure, warm sunlight broke through the dark clouds brewing between the two and suddenly the tension fell away to make room for you.
You left the cowboy's side and all but ran towards Hancock. His arms opened on instinct and the embrace knocked the wind out of him - both with the force of your arms squeezing around his middle and the sudden flood of relief of having you home again.
"Well, look what the wasteland spat out. I was starting to think you up and abandoned me, Sunshine." John said, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. Enveloping himself in you, around you, just for a moment before letting you go.
"I took a detour. A very long and unintentional detour, but I'm back." You laughed in return, picking lint and stray threads off of Hancock's coat as you looked him over. He didn't realize how much he missed whatever this was between you until your fingers fixed his coat where the exchange had ruffled it.
The shadow of the stranger darkened the sweet reunion and Hancock was forced to acknowledge the other ghoul when you bounced back to his side. John knew his voice had a little more ice, but he didn't care. "And you brought home a stray, I see. Welcome to Goodneighbor. I hope our little firework here didn't give you too much trouble."
This ghoul wasn't a simple mercenary, that much was certain. He didn't hold the same type of arrogance as those that believed themselves invincible because of their numbers or hired weapons. No, this was a ghoul who had a reason to walk like he owned the road paved in front of him. He was dangerous. Calculating.
John could see the dark weight that pressed down on this ghoul's shoulders - similar to his own. Exhaustion wrapped in spite - a reluctant, but stubborn, willingness to keep moving forward. To escape something in the past. Or maybe search for something in the future.
A purpose. That was a rarity nowadays. A purpose outside of ensuring the next meal or bed for the night. Something bigger than simply surviving.
The cowboy tipped his hat in greeting. Speaking with voice as gruff and grating as John's, a ghoul's voice roughened by radiation. "Pleasure. She's troublesome, that's for sure." The amber gaze slid to you and the sharp dagger of suspicion softened around the edges, but then returned when the cowboy looked past you and surveyed the town. "Got a store round 'ere?"
Hancock easily pointed the stranger in the direction of one. Eager to separate you from him with how much oogling you were doing towards this guy as he sauntered off. Giving you a wink and a murmured, "Be a minute."
You turned back to John and he had a second to compose the scowl into something you wouldn't clock right away. "I could use a drink." You groaned heavily, feigning to collapse into Hancock as if passing out. "I've wandered for weeks without a drop of liquor, John. I'm so very parched." He grinned at your dramatics, rolling his eyes as he tilted you towards The Third Rail.
"Your return home has been long overdue. A celebration with booze and a warm meal is in order I think." Hancock draped his arm over your shoulders, guiding you towards the bar, The Third Rail, practically pushing his way through the gathering crowd that started to form to welcome you home. You stalled by the jukebox to greet some old friends and John left you for a second to order two very stiff drinks. Returning to your side with a very obvious nudge to the crowd to give you space and leave you all to himself.
"Now, who the fuck did you bring into my town?" Hancock asked as nonchalantly as he could. Layering his voice in harmless scorn - something you would perceive as him being curious and cautious, rather than probing. "You leave for a few months and come back with some wash-down version of me? I'd be flattered if he wasn't so ugly."
You were halfway through a tentative sip of your drink when he said this and his words made you choke on the harsh liquor. You coughed and spluttered, laughing through the burn of alcohol that ran down the wrong side of your throat. "Oh fuck, that hurt - John, you're adorable. And I love everything about you but I did not go out there and pick up the first ghoul I saw because I missed you." Hancock placed a hand over his chest as if he was insulted by your words. You ignored him, looping your arm through his to tug him towards one of the couches by the back of the establishment. "We met not long after I left and then kept running into each other. We were heading in the same direction, so we decided to travel together."
Uh-huh, I remember using that excuse multiple times with you too. Hancock thought to himself. It was on the tip of his tongue to say but something in him held back the quip.
"I was lucky to have him out there. You're getting slack, John. We spotted Raiders on the way here. Left us alone for the most part but I hate to think what would have happened if I was alone on my way home." You seated yourself on the red lounge and Hancock took up the space beside you. His arm slid across the back of the seat, relaxing against the nook of the lounge's arm, all attention turned to you.
He looked you over, already knowing that you weren't injured but after hearing that, he needed to be doubly sure. You caught his wandering gaze right away. "I'm fine! Just some old cuts."
You must have thought he spotted something you were hiding. He didn't show any surprise but now Hancock was more attentive of how you were sitting. You weren't leaning against the back of the chair and you were carrying the glass in your non-dominant hand. The more John looked, the more he realized the grime and dirt wasn't just markings from your travels - but old bruises peppering your face and neck.
You were injured. He wasn't sure the extent of it, but regardless - you were hurt.
The hand behind your head curled into a fist. But Hancock kept the facade of collected calm for now. "It wouldn't have anything to do with your dusty cowboy, right?"
Hancock gauged your reaction over the lip of his glass. Masking his growing dislike for the man behind a sip of his drink when you didn't meet his eye. "I think he'd give me a run for the title as 'trouble magnet'." You chuckled. "I brought him here to get him out of the Wastes for a bit. There won't be any trouble, promise. I'll make sure he stays out of trouble."
Hancock very much doubted that this stranger was anything but a peace-keeping citizen. The man just didn't have the aura of someone who would sit pretty on a porch or count stock in a store.
"Well, who am I to turn away another ghoul from a safe place to sleep?" He smiled and you gave one in return, relief sparkling in your eyes as if you expected Hancock to turn this stranger away.
He had half the mind to do so, but not because of the danger the cowboy posed. But because of how adoringly you talked about him while recollecting your time out in the Wasteland.
Hancock had never felt such emotion towards you before than right here. His chest ached and longed for this conversation to continue until you were both too drunk too speak. But something hot and barbed was beginning to coil inside him the more he listened to you tell tales of adventure with this new friend of yours. He didn't want to listen to you talk about this stranger.
He wanted to fill the hole in his chest with your presence.
And yes, Hancock was beginning to see through the lines. That this wasn't a time together out of convenience but one out of mutual companionship. Whether you knew that or not was still unknown to Hancock. You talked about this ghoul like he was a byproduct of some of your stories. But then you would bring him in as the center detail and the thorns in John's chest would grow sharper.
He also noticed that you didn't call the cowboy by any certain name. It was either 'The Ghoul' or 'him', in your stories. You did start calling him 'cowboy' after Hancock pointed it out, but there was still no name. Which intrigued John greatly.
Drinks flowed like purified water between you two. Charlie kept your glasses filled and had food brought to you both while you answered John's questions and told him all sorts of wild stories.
He had the comfort that you didn't meet this stranger as soon as you left Goodneighor. And that the entire time you seemed to have talked about nothing else to the cowboy but about home and how much you wanted to come back.
Your detour home had been a job the two of you had taken to fill your pockets with caps for the journey. However, it had become more complicated and John put your unspoken details together that it had been the reason for your stiffness and bruising.
You were home at least. Finally, you were home.
"He heard so much about it I guess he had to come see it all for himself." You said at some point, half slurring your words as the liquor loosened your lips and relaxed your mind.
Hancock was in no better condition. Head back against the couch, legs kicked up on the short table in front of you both - staring up at the ceiling with Jet buzzing through his veins - making every breath and shift of your clothing twice as loud in his ears.
He was very aware of how close the two of you were currently sitting after so many hours of talking. His knee against yours. His arm half draped over your shoulders, he was careful not to bump whatever you were hiding beneath your clothing. A bruise or stitched wound on your shoulder somewhere, he wasn't sure but he was hyper-aware of the fact that you had finally relaxed enough to sit back against the couch.
It felt like old times. Just you and him wasting away the afternoon while talking about nothing and everything.
Hancock had almost forgotten that there was an intruder in his midst and that you weren't just talking about a specter you left behind in the Wasteland. His good mood was soiled when the click of spurs announced the stranger's approach. And Hancock hated how much he burned with something sour when you grinned up at the approaching shadow.
"Hey! Did you find everything ok?" You asked and Hancock dragged his eyes off the cracked ceiling to the ghoul in front of him.
"For a little town, there sure is a lot to get lost in." The Ghoul replied and from his pocket, he threw you something. You managed to catch it, remarkably even in your drunken state, and smiled even wider.
"Ah! You remembered!"
It was bundle of stimpacks. Wrapped together in cloth.
"As if you would let me forget." The cowboy mumbled and then dropped a pack - your pack - by your side, right between you and Hancock.
Black, near pupilless, eyes snapped up to clash with a deep amber scowl. No words were spoken, but the exchange was vicious and serrated. You were too busy muttering about The Ghoul owing you stimpacks and putting the new ones away to see what was happening right in front of you.
The Ghoul's gloved hand twitched and Hancock's lips curled into a cruel smirk - his eyes slid past this stranger to the few armed persons sitting at the bar. They were subtle, nursing drinks and chatting idly, but the tension in the room doubled when their Mayor's hat tilted and the Neighborhood Watch noticed the exchange.
Vigilant as expected, The Ghoul glimpsed the rising hackles in the Mayor's attack dogs. From your stories and his poking around town, this wasn't a fight he was going to win if things escalated. This whole town orbited this ghoul like he was the sun - there would be no allies found here.
But Cooper couldn't help it. Hancock's fingers played with a strand of your hair by the nape of your neck…and you let him. The comfortable familiarity between you two stung like a radscorpian needle.
And the poison of the sting was spreading through Cooper at a rapid pace. "From what she told me about this town, it sounded almost too good to be true. Not unheard of. But still quite the achievement."
"What can I say? Shoot for the stars or sink." Hancock purred with an overly sweet tone layering his words. "We ghouls don't have much going for us out there. So, I made a place for people like me right here. A safe haven. A place to call home. And I ain't gonna let it go anytime soon."
The sly curl of John's lips portrayed what he wasn't saying and The Ghoul's scowl deepened in response.
Oh, if you could see the look in these fellas' eyes. A radiation storm would have less of a burn to it. But you were still too busy trying to make room for the chems in your pack.
And then a hairline fracture split through Cooper's mask as the Mayor's hand brushed down along the side of your neck, all innocent in his drunken state - moving his arm from around your shoulders to rest in his lap - and you shivered from the contact. No comment or sigh answered the brush of rough fingers to your smooth skin, but Cooper hated it all the same.
The ease and casualness of the two of you.
"You're welcome to stay as long as you like, cowboy." John said, picking up something from your pile of discarded possessions. Making the whole ordeal between him and Cooper seem as casual as any normal conversation. "We got everything a guy like you could want. Just keep your hands to yourself, you hear?"
The heaviness of his words was a threat sweetened in your ears. You looked up when Cooper grunted, nodding. Eyes glancing at you before switching back to John again. You didn't notice a thing. "Then I guess a room isn't too much of a request, then?"
"On the house." Hancock purred, breathing in a lungful of Jet from the inhaler he found from your stash. Ignoring your protests about taking his gift from you without you presenting it first.
Cooper left you with the other ghoul to retrieve keys to the room. He snatched a bottle from the counter, ignoring the Mayor's dogs watching his every move, and retreated into the depths of the bar. Your laugh followed him all the way. And as he kicked the rented room door closed, locking him away from the storm brewing outside, he downed half the bottle of alcohol to stave the burn of whatever was clawing at his chest.
- I will also only be writing x reader content for now.
**i won’t be able to watch Season 2 Episode 8 until thursday so please refrain from spoiling anything from the new episode tonight within your request, thank you !!**
(a/n: i won’t write anything “ghoulcy” related. I don’t dislike the ship and have mutuals who support it; i personally am just not comfortable writing it. Thank you for understanding :))
i apologize in regards to a lack of content even tho i said i would get to writing more; my life recently has been like one elongated episode of some really shitty soap opera.
psst for a request maybe can we get simon x fem! reader where reader isn’t feeling too great? she had a rough day :/ cue lots of fluff
a/n: absolutely!! hope this satisfies :)
warnings: none
ghost is the kind of man who constantly reads people, and once you’re in an established relationship with him, you’re his new favorite book. based on body language alone he’ll notice you’re feeling off before you even say anything.
he doesn’t press you to talk about it, doesn’t try to rush you, just quietly makes room for you to be upset.
he doesn’t smother you. simon’s not someone to sweep you off your feet into a bear hug if he notices your unhappy, but he stays close. if you’re standing or sitting side by side he will lean into you slightly.
if he notices you’re feeling particularly shitty and haven’t said anything about it, he’ll drape his arm over your shoulder and rest his hand on your bicep in a loose but comforting grip.
simon knows he’s not the most efficient when it comes to talking about emotions. so he’ll do his best to show he still really does care about you through acts of service. he’ll take care of every little need of yours like it’s second nature.
you could be completely spiraling; crying, yelling in anger, and ghost will never flinch. he’s seen the worst of the worst; you’ll never be too much for him.
holds space for you in a way that feels safe without suffocating. with him there’s no pity or awkwardness, just presence.
if you need to vent, ghost listens intently. if you need to just sit in the quiet for a bit? he’ll sit with you for as long as you need.
once he knows you’re okay with touch, and he’s comfortable with reciprocating it himself, he uses it like medicine. knuckles delicately brushing your jaw, fingertips tracing your back, the warmth of his hand on your thigh.
he’s not flashy; just protective, quiet and deeply intimate between you two. his fingers gently brushing through your hair as he holds you against him, mouth and chin resting on the top of your head.
simon is no stranger to bad days, and once you’re a part of his life he treats your struggles with so much more delicacy than he ever offered to himself on his bad days.
warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors do NOT interact. afab terms used to describe readers genitalia
Bf!Simon Riley who does not have sex casually. It’s all consuming for him; the presentation of his most vulnerable form. He doesn’t do anything halfway, if he’s touching you it’s with purpose. If he’s kissing you it’s with dedication. If he’s fucking you it’s with reverence.
Bf!Simon Riley who is incredibly in attuned to your emotions. Even during sex he notices every moan, groan, sigh, flinch and the shift of your breathing. He’ll stop on a dime if he even so much as senses something’s off.
Bf!Simon Riley who loves manhandling you during sex. doesn’t matter how big or tall you are, you’re still smaller than him and he loves it. Loves lifting you up while kissing just to feel your legs wrap around his waist. If you’re sitting in his lap he will flip you so your back is on the bed/couch and he’s suddenly on-top of you. when you’re fucking in missionary he’ll pull out mid-thrust and flip you so you’re on your stomach. loves grabbing and pulling your hips up and angling your back into the perfect position when you’re fucking in doggy.
Bf!Simon Riley who literaly whimpers if you gently drag your nails along the tip of his dick. he tries so hard to hold it back, but that doesn’t stop it from escaping his tightly sealed lips and you realizing how much control you really have over him during moments like these.
Bf!Simon Riley who only engages in vanilla sex unless you ask for anything different. sex isn’t easy for Simon and can sometimes become overwhelming whether he wants to admit it or not. So he’ll stick to the basics and although he isn’t against trying new things, basic or not, a safe word needs to be made for both of your sakes.
Bf!Simon Riley who’s so gentle outside of sex, it’s almost surprising the first time he gets rough with you in bed, until you remember he’s a soldier who has seen and done more than you can imagine. And sometimes that bleeds into other aspects of his life, even during intimacy. Won’t ever be rough unless you directly ask tho.
Bf!Simon Riley who quickly learns that eating you out is one of his favorite pass-times. Prefers you sitting on his face to eat your pussy. if you’re hovering over him, awkwardly balanced he will tell you “I said sit down all the way sweetheart,” as he grabs your hips and pulls you down, cunt firm against his mouth. Doesn’t mind laying down on his stomach between your thighs, at least then he can grind on the bed and get some sort of friction to ease his aching cock.
Bf!Simon Riley who loves getting head but never actually asks. He gets this certain look in his eyes when he wants your mouth around him— dark, quiet and heavy with unspoken need. Doesn’t pull your hair or shove your head. Will simply grip the roots of your hair as stability. won’t ever shove your head down on his dick but he may get overwhelmed (in a good way ofc) and accidentally thrust up into your mouth causing you to choke and gag at the unexpected force. Will definitely say things like “Mouth looks so good wrapped around my cock, sweetheart.”
Bf!Simon Riley who definitely has a mask kink and will frequently wear his balaclava during sex. Doesn’t wear it during your very first time together, thinks you deserve as much of his vulnerability as your offering of your own, but after that he will wear it every once in a while. Definitely gets off to the idea of him fully dressed and you completely nude. Loves coming home during leave and immediately getting down and dirty the moment he walks through the door. Pulling just the waist of his pants down just past his ass and you completely nude below him? He comes way quicker during moments like that.
Bf!Simon Riley who isn’t a full blown “Dom” in bed but still gets off on the power exchange. He leads, you surrender.
Bf!Simon Riley who treasures aftercare and closeness after sex. will stand awkwardly in the bathroom as you pee afterwards, will start the shower up for you if you want one, will grab one of his most comfortable tshirts for you to wear. will wrap his arm around you, hook his leg over yours, grip his pinky with yours. he wants to feel your touch in some way.
i’m not super duper educated on the mw2 and mw3 reboot lore, i’m slowly learning BUT i feel like i have enough of an idea of what the characters are like to write for them. so i apologize if i write a request and it isn’t entirely canon-accurate, i promise it’s in no ill intent i’m still just learning everything lol.
dad!Simon Riley who is 100% a girl dad. He thinks he has a curse once you get pregnant with your third and are told by the doctor that it is, in fact, another girl.
dad!Simon Riley who absolutely spoils his girls any time he gets the chance
dad!Simon Riley who scares away his daughters first boyfriend with a singular look when he comes over to meet you and Simon for the first time
dad!Simon Riley who reads every book he can find on pregnancy, birth and baby care the moment you announce you’re pregnant with your first.
dad!Simon Riley who cuts, sands, routers, paints and builds the first crib completely by hand after seeing you get pissy while trying to build a standard ikea crib. He kisses you on the cheek and tells you to go rest and puts the cheap pieces in the shed. By month six of your pregnancy he takes you into the garage with his hands over your eyes. He was not prepared for the hormonal crying you expressed for a solid 2 hours after he showed you his creation.
dad!Simon Riley who falls asleep in the rocking chair in the nursery with his infant daughter held against his chest almost every night for the first month of her life during late night feedings.
dad!Simon Riley who will let his daughters paint his nails glittery pinks and purples without a single complaint
dad!Simon Riley who leaves little notes in his daughter’s lunches like “Dad loves you”, “My little soldier” or “Always proud of you.” He’s determined for his daughters to never feel anything close to how Simon felt about his father growing up.
dad!Simon Riley after being raised by an abusive father refuses to ever show any sort of aggression in front of his daughters; won’t even raise his voice in their presence.
dad!Simon Riley who supports his daughter completely after her first breakup. He doesn’t threaten to kill the poor boy, at least not to his daughter, instead he simply tells her “You’re not broken, you’re just hurt, and I’ve been hurt too. you’ll be okay kid.”
dad!Simon Riley who after finding out his daughter is being bullied, shows up to the school and very calmly, very firmly, terrifies the entire administrative staff with his overtly polite request for his daughter to change classes due to bullying from another student.
dad!Simon Riley who teaches his daughters self defense from a very young age. not to scare them, but to encourage a capable mindset. Crouches down to his knees and kisses his daughters tiny forehead while telling her, “You won’t ever need to fight, baby girl, not as long as i’m around. But i’ll show you how just in case i can’t get there fast enough one day.”
dad!Simon Riley who cries the first time his infant daughter says “daddy” or “dada”.
dad!Simon Riley who will silently go and lay down in bed with one of his girls if he wakes up from a nightmare in the middle of the night.
dad!Simon Riley who wouldn’t just kill for his daughters, but most importantly, he would live for them.
Since you've been Joshua posting some more I need to add my cursed thought of him being into the whole Mormon soak thing. Just sticking his dick in you and not thrusting because it's technically not a sin and not actual sin. He's still being a proper born again.
I'm not sending this on Anon you know what I'm about
I had briefly mentioned soaking in one of the headcanon posts about Joshua and then promptly forgot about it for a while. I immediately filed this away for use in a long-form work when I got it, but I cannot in good conscious let this sit in my drafts for god-knows-how-long until I get around to it.
Figured I'd do a little blurb on it in the meantime, while I figure out what sort of story framework I want to use for a Josh long-form piece.
When Joshua first brings the idea up to you, you're more than amenable. The two of you have been "dating", or whatever the post-apocalyptic Mormon version of dating is, for a few months, maybe half a year, and the physical aspect of your relationship has been painfully slow to develop. Though the days you've spent together have been rather nice ones, there's a deep torment to how little physical intimacy (or even contact) you have. It feels like there's always a distance between you; he's always so close in proximity, but it never fails that he seems miles away.
Regardless of your excitement, you're still rather surprised that he'd even propose such a thing. Frankly, you're in doubt that things will go as he describes, with him only resting inside you for a bit so that the two of you can share a little contact without things going too far. Despite his insistence, you can feel the want coming off of him in waves when you're alone, and your own level of desire is rather equal.
You're pretty shocked at how things actually unfold once the two of you manage to find some time to sneak away.
When the day finally comes, the two of you hike to a private spot he likes to disappear to, the setting sun painting the endless sky in vivid red and magenta hues, and he pulls you into his lap. He doesn't trust himself to be on top of you.
Things proceed in about the same fashion you'd expected for a while, a little awkward, but with a heavy edge of unspoken excitement. The whole thing is still so surreal, though—going from nothing but furtive glances and lingering soft kisses to being sat in his lap with no pants on while he tussles with his belt buckle. The metal loop is cold against your thigh as it flops uselessly off to the side, and you giggle, wriggling at the feeling and lightly rubbing yourself against his crotch. The denim of his jeans is well-worn and soft against your skin. You can already feel how hard he is, and it ignites a hot desire in your gut like someone dropping a lit match onto an oil slick.
"None of that." he chastises, one wrapped hand kneading subtly at your ass cheek as he uses it to steady you.
Your cheeks are hot with mild embarrassment, but you nod, lower lip wedged between your teeth as you feel his other one move back between your bodies to contend with his fly. Despite the endless temptation, you do as you were told and keep your gaze fixed on his bandaged face, on those hauntingly blue eyes, as he frees himself and moves into position. He had made it very clear in your discussions before that you weren't allowed to see or touch him. Then again, you're no expert on the rules he follows, but you're not all that sure any of this is technically allowed.
Not that you're arguing.
Though you're throbbing and more ready than you think you've ever been in your life, it still sort of knocks the wind out of you when he sinks home in one fluid, almost brutal move. Neither of you have time to savor him pushing into you, and you suspect that's the intention. Your eyelids drop shut as you struggle to draw in a shaky breath, hands scrambling for purchase against his still cotton-clad chest. His name drips hotly, but softly, from your lips, and he lets out a truncated sigh that sounds suspiciously like a groan in reply.
When he reaches between your legs and starts touching you, your whole body jolts in surprise.
"Fuck." you huff, following it with a quick grimace as the expletive leaves your mouth. Typically, he would grouse at you for such language, but he's far too distracted by the other sounds that start to come from you as he continues his task. Eventually, you start to tiptoe closer and closer to an actual orgasm, every stroke of the rough, scarred pads of his fingers a hot prod against your tender flesh. You start to arc your hips against him just as you begin to spasm, just barely bouncing on him.
There's a huge part of Joshua that misses the days when he didn't care nearly as much about premarital sex being forbidden. It's a lot easier repress your sexual desires when you've simply never indulged them, as it turns out. Now, he has to desperately fight away the knowledge of just how much better he could feel if he only moved his hips, let you move yours, anything.
Instead, his fingers dig with bruising force into your hips as he forces your body to stall, every muscle in his own painfully tight with withheld energy.
"Stay still." he commands, and there's a mildly detectable strain in his voice that perks your ears up.
You freeze as best as you can, trying to look chastened in the hopes that he'll loosen his increasingly painful grip, but you can't stop the way your body occasionally pulses around him. He lets out a rather exasperated-sounding sigh of pleasure as it happens again, and again, dropping his bandaged face to your chest for a single beat as he re-gathers himself. Both of you can sense the strain pulling at the threads of his self-control, threatening to unravel him.
After a deep breath, he resumes rubbing you; gentler this time, though no less steadily.
Joshua knows he's playing a dangerous game. God could reach down to smite him once more at any moment for all but blatantly flouting his vows, but he's rapidly becoming lost in you, in the feeling of being close with someone. He could be burning all over again, aflame head to toe as his flesh charred and cracked, and he'd still struggle to pull away. The way you cling to him and sigh his name like you love him instead of fear him is addictive, and he's terrified of how the withdrawals will feel.
Maybe they'll be the thing that finally kills him.
He continues to rub and pluck at you steadily despite his struggles. Part of him wants the ego stroke of knowing he's making you feel good, but another part of him knows that feeling your soaked cunt flutter and tug around him over and over is the closest he'll get to cumming himself. Every harsh gasp and whimper that he draws from you as you crest your peak yet again pushes him closer and closer to the edge, but he refuses to let himself fall. Time sort of evaporates, the sun fully disappearing behind the rocky horizon as you both toe the line of full-on sin.
Joshua comes far too close to his own orgasm as your (third? fourth?) washes over you, his balls drawn up tight against his body as he throbs hard, but he has just enough remaining control over himself to eject you out of his lap. One hand cradles the back of your head, the other cushioning your ribs to blunt the impact against the hard ground. He allows himself to be pulled by your weight, hovering over you as his head spins.
This, too, is dangerous. Lingering above you, taking in your flushed face and heaving chest, all he wants to do is bury himself back inside of you and fuck you clear through the sandy stone beneath. Instead, he allows himself little but a slight nuzzle against your collarbone, a quick huff of your smell, before he reaches between you and tucks himself away, wincing slightly as he does.
You're quiet as you search around for your pants a moment later, legs unsteady like a little fawn. But you also steal glances at him over and over as you right yourself, he notices. He's rather distracted by the view as he tightens his belt once more.
His erection has deflated, but only slightly, loudly protesting being re-confined to the stiff prison of his jeans, but his throbbing cock isn't his only source of pain. The weeping flesh of his thighs and groin stings terribly from how long you sat in his lap, and he flexes the muscles there in an attempt to ease the sensation. The increasingly soiled bandages cling to the wounds, however, and even walking begins to hurt. There's no point in complaining or even bringing your attention to the matter, as he knows it'll hurt far worse later when he has to change said bandages.
However, the pain fades into an negligible dullness the moment you saddle up beside him, ready to make your way back to the camp by his side. He's studying your face, gaze unreadable as ever, when you slip your hand back into his. Typically, he's loath to be touched, but the grip of your palm in his feels easy, warm, and he tugs you a hair closer against his side as the two of you start your descent back towards the main foot path.
Neither of you says anything on your long walk back, but when it's time to turn in that night, he takes his place on the bedroll beside yours, wordlessly holding your hand while you both drift off.
ok but we agree that Joshua Graham would be absolutely downright OBSESSED with making YOU whimper, right? like once he was comfortable with fucking you often (if ever, maybe if you married???) he'd be trying to collect different sounds he can get you to make like pokemon cards.
Another inductee into the "this one goes on the fridge, A+ this is very correct" club that I believe came in response to my ranking list of who whimpers and who doesn't.
Joshua's unsettlingly quiet during sex most of the time, so part of him trying to get you to make near-constant sounds is to compensate for his own lack of noise. However, a bigger part of it is his ego, his deep desire for validation and control. The whimpers and moans that fly from you are proof that he has the sort of hold over you that he wants, especially if the two of you bump heads in other places.
It doesn't matter if you find his past or some of his beliefs reprehensible if he can melt you with his touch, regardless.
I haven’t had the opportunity to see any marvel movie or series since Guardians of the Galaxy 3, and definitely have not yet seen Thunderbolts so please avoid any requests that contain spoilers for anything past GotG 3 !! thank you !
Hi~ So I finally worked up the courage to ask but not to remove the anonymous😅
So, which ghoul do you think would be into petite women?I'm like 4'11" (150cm)and I'm sure my beloved Charon wouldn't even want to get close to me due to his fear of hurting me with those deliciously huge hands 👀 idk, but I REALLY want to know what you think(I fucking love all you write) also something more general but related. I remember reading the average in the wasteland was 5'11" (180cm), I know Americans are taller compared to where I am from, but! Taking in mind the lack of food and other factors that are present in the wasteland,I kinda doubt people really develop correctly or at their fullest.
I sort of turned this into "Who's into size kink stuff?", so I hope you don't mind, Anon. Thanks for checking out my stuff!
Charon both frets about how small you are and finds it endlessly stimulating. At the very same time he's worrying that he's gripping you too hard, leaning too much of his weight onto you, he's fascinated by how small your hands are in his, how easily his grip circles around your wrists, your waist. It makes his cock ache and his heart race (in the anxious way) at the same time.
Mister Crowley isn't even that big of a guy, but the second he finds himself attracted to someone smaller than him, his proclivity for wanting to dwarf the person he's fucking rears its head. He loves putting you on your knees so he can fully stand over you while you make him feel good. Big fan of restraining you in ways that minimize how much space you take up and make you seem smaller.
Murphy never draws attention to it, quietly studying your small stature from a distance, filing all the details about you away in his mind. He's bad at expressing interest, but you notice how he frequently crowds himself close to you, lets his eyes linger on your hands. Likes to hold your hand and study how small it is compared to his own...almost as much as he likes folding you into a little ball against his chest while he fucks you.
Roy Phillips is rather open about it, but in a joking way that's intended to sort of obscure just how into it he really is. Frequently picks you up, throws you over his shoulder, and wrestles you around just to rub it in how much smaller you are than him, how easily he can overpower you. However, he can also be rather sweet about it, pressing you into his chest as the two of you stand together and remarking at how short you are. Generally likes to be on top of you during sexual encounters, as it makes him feel bigger.
Joshua Graham is another case of "not that tall or big, but likes to feel big". He's used to people shrinking away from him, both being alienated and feeling like the biggest man in the room. If not that, certainly the man who casts the longest shadow. Despite how much of a mixed bag that experience might be, he does like when it translates into sex. It makes him feel powerful to be able to physically bend you to his will. Likes the feeling and optics of you being curled up in his lap like a little trophy, especially if you're naked and spent from him fucking you silly (within the confines of a God-fearing marriage union, of course).
Edward Deegan is also very open about it, but in a completely unironic way. The man likes folding a partner half his size like a lawn chair and going to town on them in whatever way strikes his fancy. Big fan of sex in front of mirrors or other reflective surfaces so that he can see just how small you look compared to him, and will openly tease you about it while he fucks you until you can't stand.
Eddie Winter isn't all that tall, but he's got a wide, thick body, and he likes being able to use the extra mass this gives him to put you in your place. Besides, he's an insecure misogynist, so he strongly prefers to have a partner who can't challenge him physically and plays into his existing ideas about women's physical abilities. Loves manhandling and hauling a partner around to flex his strength.
Nick Valentine likes to hide you away with his body, tucking you into a corner or beneath his body on the bed in order to keep you from the prying eyes of anyone but him. Your head tucks perfectly under his chin, and he likes how you feel folded into his lap as he fucks you with his fingers. Will often use his larger/heavier body to steer you where he wants you to go, especially when he wants alone time with you or wants to touch you.
Gunther Jenkins likes how a small partner's presence magnifies his protective and possessive instincts. You're all his, and it's pretty easy for him to prove that to you (or give you regular reminders) when you're way smaller than him. Gets a big kick out of brat taming, and brat taming's the most fun when you can use your size against them. He might not be the beefiest guy around, but his lean height and ghoul strength are more than enough to boss you around when he feels like it.
Cooper Howard isn't all that picky about his partner's physical body, either, but that doesn't mean that being with someone who's smaller than him doesn't activate the uglier parts of his brain. Something about a tiny little thing trusting him, spending vulnerable time near him, makes him want to take advantage of that trust. Wants to pounce on you like a hungry predator and really drill into your brain that he's more than capable of getting what he wants from you.
May I request some romantic headcannons about Nick Valentine and/or John Hancock? SFW or NSFW ❤️
A/N: Absolutely!! And thank you for the request !!
Nick Valentine + John Hancock, SFW + NSFW headcanons
Warnings: nsfw content, !! MDNI PLZZ !! mentions of drug use/abuse
Nick Valentine (SFW)
his love language is 100% acts of service
for him, doing things like fixing your busted radio, or carrying your pack when he notices your shoulders are sore, or even going all the way to make sure your boots are dry the next morning if it rained, are more his style
for Nick within many aspects of his life, especially in a relationship; attention is in the details
respect is the core of his romance
Nick doesn’t act like a gentleman because he was entirely programmed that way, he just chooses to be one.
He listens attentively when you speak, waits until you finish talking to respond, even offers his arm occasionally once you two really get comfortable with one another
he won’t pressure you to talk either, he understands the necessity of comfortable silence.
old world romance with him
he’ll collect you a bundle of flowers in the most desolate places, handwritten notes, basic chivalry even when it’s not necessary
even a quiet dance in his office one day, after a brutal day
Nick is protective but never controlling
he won’t stop you from taking risks, but he’ll be sure he’s beside you during them every time
Nick will smile and mutter something like “Be careful, would ya?” while loading your weapon because he knows he couldn’t stop you even if he tried his damn hardest.
he thinks he’s lucky to have you
it’s not verbalized often but Nick internally struggles with the concept of feeling like he actually deserves good things
so if you love him earnestly, or hold his metal hand delicately, or tell him how much he means to you?
you’ll witness him go still with awe; a new core memory being built for him that he’ll never forget
NSFW
Nick doesnt care that he doesn’t have a dick, and doesn’t see it as a limitation
just more of a reason to double down on making you the center of attention
he is a giver, service top all the way
uses his hands with expert skill
the soft synthetic skin hand for sensuality; slow strokes, tender pressure and the perfect rhythm.
the metal one though? that’s where the fun can turn a little dark; cold, rigid and unforgiving
only ever used if you ask for it
fingering is an artform to him
he knows the exact spot that makes your thighs twitch, how to press deep and slow until your practically crying into his shoulder from overstimulation
will say your name in that low, yet gentle voice of his while curling two fingers inside you
he loves watching you fall apart because of him, his yellow eyes often locked onto your face the whole time
Nick has a massive oral fixation when it comes to you
would happily live the rest of his life between your legs if you let him
he doesn’t need to breathe, doesn’t need breaks, he will lap at you with terrifying precision
his tongue firm and precise, sometimes humming just to make your hips buck up into him
mental edge-play if that’s even a thing?
will tease you with just his words for hours, days even until you finally break and beg for him
wont only talk you through it, but will ask you to talk him through it; tell him what you want him to do to you, tell him how good he’s doing, how good he makes you feel, how no one’s ever made you feel this way before with just their fingers
he feeds off things like that, stirs the cogs inside him
dirty talks quite often, and anyone who doesn’t know him well enough would never expect it
“Let me see how pretty you look when you come, doll. Right here, eyes on me.”
aftercare becomes routine and reverent for him
makes sure your hydrated, cleaned up to your preference, and comfortable
he prefers the nights in his office when he just gets to lay with you afterwards
sometimes even plays quiet jazz on a janky radio on his nightstand if you’re too wound up to fall asleep
John Hancock (SFW)
loves with freedom, not with a desire for control
hancock will never try to own you, his love language is rooted in freedom
to feel, to express, to dedication and learning his partner
if you’re scared of being controlled or smothered, he’s your guy
he respects your freedom above all
he’ll be the first to tell you something cheesy like; “Sweetheart, i don’t want no damned bird in a cage, i want a firework.”
quality time is his everything
when the two of you finally settle in an established relationship together, he cuts back on the chem use
which in result a lack of using like he used to causes bouts of insomnia for him
he’s already a night owl to begin with but completely sleepless nights get difficult for him
that’s why he treasures when you stay up with him, whether you’re a night owl yourself or not
one of his favorite things to do with you is have deep late night talks.
after meeting you, physical touch is full of tenderness and loving intention, not just lust.
if you struggle with depression or just have low days, he notices and shows up
he’d be the last person to abandon or leave you because of mental health struggles; he knows them all to well himself.
he won’t coddle unless you ask him too, and he’ll be there for you in any way you need, you just have to be willing to tell him
above all, hancock values communication the most within your relationship
loyalty is sacred to him. he has no shame in his past flings, people do what they do, but after getting with you he treasures fidelity between the two of you.
he won’t flirt around like how he used to, that’s reserved directly for you unless he’s using it in a sarcastic way to piss off some trader.
he’ll never make you question his love for you, or mess with your heart in any way.
you’re the best thing to happen to him in a long time, he’ll be damned if he lets himself mess that up even the slightest.
NSFW
Hancock is all about indulgence, and he loves indulging in you
if you’ll let him, he’ll spend hours learning you with his lips and fingers
you’re a work of art to him and he loves studying every part of you
huge praise kink tbh; whether it’s about you or he’s receiving, he loves it all
he gets off telling you how good you feel, how gorgeous you sound, how no one will ever be able to do what you do to him
but if you praise him?? that man is a puddle, a wet pile of sand that your hands can mold anyway you want
he loves it when you’re loud and shameless, he has no problem with passerby’s hearing what he does to you, how good he makes you feel
he’ll take charge when needed but if you ever initiate control? he’s in heaven
thrives on consensual roleplay; just give him a safe word to remember and he’ll explore every fantasy you may have with excitement and care.
he will absolutely have a full blown conversation with you while fucking you
will definitely smoke a cigarette while you’re riding him on the couch, if you smoke as well he’ll place it between your lips after a moment so he can grab your hips and thrust up into you properly
aftercare with him is sacred. no matter how messy or filthy it got, he’s the first one up; grabbing you a wet cloth and ask if you need any water
will whisper praise into your ear while gently massaging your hips as you lay together afterwards
no matter how intense or mild it gets, by the end of it he needs to know that you feel safe and loved.
absolutely zero judgement from him the first time he sees you nude. it doesn’t matter what you look like, he is enamored by your entire existence.
