Her hair is actually a brighter ginger but she keeps trying and failing to dye it black so it stands out less. Turns out two-century-old hair dye is pretty mediocre.
Allergic to grass. Nothing else. Just grass.
Codsworth
A defective unit. Nate and Nora were asked to return him (which is why they still had the box he came in) but neither wanted to. He was smarter than the rest and they loved him as he was.
Can see shrimp colours and will occasionally try to clean stains only he can see.
Curie
Has been running on cleaning alcohol instead of Mr. Handy fuel for the last century odd. No one knows how. That really shouldn't work.
Once she gets her synth body she is very eager to try as many foods as she can and is equally enthusiastic in the facial expressions she pulls when some of the food is disgusting.
Danse
I like to think his name is Noah. That he takes it or is given it by Sole or Haylen. But that's my own little one. I just think he looks like a Noah.
He's the one who taught Elder Maxson how to shave his beard. Not directly. More passively as it was about five years before fallout 4 and he was shaving his beard in the communal locker-shower-room thingy and a 15 year old Maxson would watch occasionally to learn. Arthur Maxson didn't really have his dad to teach him afterall. And Danse wouldn't comment or turn his nose up like Maxson knows some of the other knights would.
BONUS: I think Cutler was also a synth. I think Cutler and Danse escaped the Institute together and were given corroborating memories to help them blend in and because they pleaded to not be separated.
Deacon
He is ginger and sunburns professionally.
Deacon isn't his actual name, which is weird to realise, and I really don't know what his actual name would be. But he vibes like he would have a double-barrel surname from when he was married to Barbara. He keeps it even though no one else will ever know or hear it again. It's his little proof that she existed and she loved him.
Dogmeat
Why is he called Dogmeat.
He is oddly well trained. Like to the point he's effectively a support dog. He can open doors.
Steals shoes but only ever the left one. He never takes both shoes. Only the left.
Hancock
Perpetually runs very warm.
Has a dulled sense of taste and will actively try out any spicy food he can. Can eat mirelurk or other normally repulsive food without tasting it too much.
MacCready
Perpetually cold. He sleeps with socks on and hugging a pillow because when he was on the farmstead with Duncan he often would share a bed with his son. He misses his son.
Really unsure on if crap counts as a swear word or not.
Nick Valentine
He knows Skinny Malone's mother on a first name basis and it haunts Skinny Malone. Nick is aware of this.
He brought Ellie to diamond city from Goodneighbour and sees her as a neice of sorts.
Piper
Collects pens and pencils. Her dream is to find a mostly intact set of gel pens to give to Nat.
She has a mug of her own at The Valentine Detective Agency due to how often she goes over to brainstorm with Nick over a case or story.
Preston Garvey
Gets terrible hay fever and has to wash his face regularly to stop any pollen building up on his eyelashes.
He collects a recipe from every settlement he visits. He wants to make a cookbook of the commonwealth one day because food brings people together.
Strong
Knows how to spell Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious and nothing else.
Getting really annoyed with how low all of the door frames are. He keeps banging his head and he's not happy about it.
X6-88
He finds the idea of dinosaurs rather cool. He is glad they are extinct. But still. He wonders if he could beat one in a fight.
The white lights in the Institute give him a migraine which is why he never takes the sunglasses off.
I've always had the headcanon that Shaun was an unplanned pregnancy and that the female sole survivor dealt with some degree of post partum depression. I just get this vibe from the Hey Honey! holotape that maybe the sole survivor hasn't been the most confident in being a parent. I mean, imagine grappling with bringing a child into the world when the world is likely to end at any moment. And I feel like this makes Kellog's line about how the sole survivor would've been a good mother under other circumstances that much more gut wrenching.
girl the fact i scoured and saw u haven't written a full length hancock fic is crazzyy. so officially submitting a request. maybe some smut where reader gets high for the first time 🤭 u write instructional sex so well from ur cooper howard fic but like idk go wild i just need more hancock immediately
Hancock x Fem!Reader, word count: 750
gosh by the time i got to this i have done a couple little hancock bits and pieces BUT i am excited to do some instructional stuff for him hehehe what i wouldn't give for him to trip sit me while he eats me out PLEASE ☢️
request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist
minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: reader has a vagina but there's no gendered language and no mention of breasts, oral sex, fingering, substance use, guided/narrated orgasm kinda
Hancock's quarters always smelled like recently blown out candles, damp cigarettes and the sticky residue of Nuka cola. He himself had a musk with hints of old dust, likely from his clothing, and a little bit of mint that you could never place where it came from. You could smell it on your nostrils without even having to take a deep breath.
"Ok, big inhale... There you go, that's it... Proud of you, kid. You're a pro already. You might be able to outdo me soon."
You lay back on the lumpy mattress, letting the chemicals pulse through you as you listened to Hancock's voice. It was always softer than you expected, like you could never remember how he sounded despite hanging on his every word from the moment you met him.
"That's it. Is it hitting?"
He didn't wait for an answer, he could already tell. Your eyes were half-lidded, threatening to roll completely back, and you were smiling wide, a wonky grin you had no control over.
"Good! Now you're all ready to relax... Let it happen, let everything in... I'll take care of you."
Your body was exposed in its entirety. Nude and reposed on his bed, there for pleasure with certainty.
"I'm gonna get you warmed up, 'kay? If a job's worth doing, it's worth doing right, huh?"
Hancock's hands began to slide upwards on your thighs, carressing them gently, his body falling to the bed as he let his mouth find your ankle. He kissed up your calf, then your thigh, admiring your smooth skin, enjoying the way it felt against his cheeks which were still soft, but more textured by comparison. He nuzzled against your flesh, ready to be ruined by him, his fingers following in the gentle wake of his lips, jagged nails leaving white, then red, marks that showed the journey they travelled on your body.
"Can I keep going? I wanna kiss you more, I wanna taste you."
You were sure you nodded. You intended to at least. Whether or not you conveyed it clearly was another matter. But you must have, as you were very aware of Hancock's face falling flat against your warm cunt, his flat, or missing anyway, features meaning he could get as close to you as possible.
"You ready?"
Your hand reached for the back of his head, finger tips pressing onto the smooth skin, his hat already removed and sitting to the side of the mattress. The way you pushed him into you told him the answer.
He let his wrinkled lips peck at your pussy, sweet little kisses that felt like gentle flutters over the sensitive skin there.
"Gotta keep it polite at first, I am a gentleman. Sometimes."
After a few more soft pouts that met your eager lips, he pushed out his slightly dry tongue, rough from his years of toxin intake, and he separated your folds with the point of the muscle. That first taste of you had him salivating, drooling from the corners of his mouth as soon as his tastebuds recognised you.
"You're wet, I'm wet. This is going to get messy."
Hancock preferred it that way, he would be the first to admit that.
"We're getting there now, little addition so we can see you through."
With that, he reached one of his fingers to your cunt, letting is slide into you, crooked as he reached for the exact spot he knew would have you moving, and like clockwork, he had your hips rising from the bed and your thighs closing around his shoulders.
"You like that, hm? 'Course you do, takes more than crowd work to win over your constituents. You gotta know exactly where to hit them."
His tongue flitted over your clit, tickling and teasing as his finger explored your insides, his arm pumping up and down gently, but quickly, exactly the way you liked it.
"Just a little bit more. You're doing so well. So relaxed. So happy. Good to keep your neighbours happy."
A second digit slid alongside the first, a little bit more friction, a tiny amount of stretch as he fucked you with his fingers. And to accompany the new pleasure, he clamped his lips around your clit and sucked, harder and harder until he could feel your fingers clawing at him, tearing at the thread bare fabric on the bed below you.
"That's it, almost there. But before I let that happen, tell me. Who's your guy, huh?"
You barely managed to choke out his name before you felt yourself losing all control, drug addled mind slipping into a stupor as your tension and focus dissipated with the arousal of your orgasm.
