⭐️ okay but high sex with hancock for the first time thought ⭐️
after shotgunning jet, he leans back on his ratty couch back in the old state house and has you ride him. he sent his entourage away earlier but the doors are wide open so the ones guarding the entrances on the lower levels can hear every whimper, whine, and moan.
every husky exhale and the wet slapping of your thighs as you take his dick nice and fast, the rough glide of his fingertips making you squirt over and over again.
you’re a fucked out sloppy, mess; eyes half-lidded and drooling as you bounce on his lap. his raspy voice coos in your ear about how pretty you look, how lucky he is to have someone like you. rough lips press kisses to your sweaty temple, the sweep of your cheekbone.
his broad palms cup your hips and knead the fat of your ass, guiding you into languid grinds against his pelvis.
and when he’s finally, finally ready to cum - to fill up your pretty little cunt because you begged so pretty (damn the rad sickness), he tucks his fingers into the slick heat of your mouth. fucks the scarred flesh across your tongue a few times just to hear you whine before he replaces it with the hard plastic of a jet inhaler.
he depresses the canister with an aerosolized hiss, bucks his hips up into the cradle of your body, and nibbles your earlobe. husks, “nice deep breath for me, sunshine. enjoy the ride.”
bleary eyed and half aware, you obey with a sloppy swivel of your hips. the world spins in a blur of motion, time crawling to a stop as your back arches with a wounded noise. pleasure burns in the pit of your stomach, spreading out along your limbs as you feel every nerve ending light up like a supernova.
your clit throbs so hard it hurts as you clamp down on his cock, the shaft jerking against your gummy walls.
he growls, the low sound guttural and drawn out to your damped senses and there’s an endless bloom of warmth deep behind your navel. every spurt of cum filling you up makes you jolt.
when the jet high finally wears off, you’re slumped over hancock. your fingers unlatch from the collar of his frock coat, stiff with disuse.
sweat soaks you from head to toe, and you feel wrung out like a used towel. aches and pains settle into your joints, your muscles too weak to hold up your hazy head.
a thumb brushes the corner of your mouth, wicking away a dribble of drool. hancock sucks his fingertip into his mouth with a hum, “dontcha worry. i’ll clean you up real sweet and tender like.”
༻ ⊱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.
Sole Punches a Racist in the Face (ft. Hancock, Nick, and Strong)
These three companions deal with so many comments. Bless SS for having more patience than me because I WOULD start swinging.
Hancock
“Diamond City, huh?” Hancock grimaced as you led him through the gates. You needed to stock up on a few supplies and check some of Nick’s files before continuing south. He wasn’t one to question the decisions you made, usually. He was fine with a lot of things. The goody two-shoes act you had going could get annoying at times, but nobody’s perfect. Plus, the Commonwealth could do with more cheery and nice people. “You know they ain’t real fond of Ghouls in this town.”
“It’ll be fine,” you assured him.
Hancock saw the stares as he walked down the streets. He knew he wasn’t welcome. That was fine by him. Someone would say something and he could fire back with miles of sarcasm. Maybe even throw in an inappropriate joke about that person’s mother. You walked down the street, chatting away about something he was only half-listening to, and right past one of the many guards stationed in the area.
“Whoa, whoa. No Ghouls in Diamond City. Get that thing outta here.”
The guard didn’t even have time to think before you decked him square in the face. The soft tissue of his nose exploded red across your knuckles. Diamond city citizens watched on in horror as the guard fell to the ground, only for you to lean down and grab him by the collar.
“You wanna run that by me again?” your usual cheery demeanor was nowhere to be seen. Hancock knew you could fight, but you were usually pretty polite about it. Even when cleaning up the streets of Goodneighbor as the Silver Shroud, you hadn’t attacked until they attacked you. You were probably the kindest, most patient person he had ever met. But right now? You looked pissed.
The guard, to his credit, decided that the best course of action was the cowardly one. He shook his head fast enough Hancock thought it might fly off. When you stood back up, the guard scrambled away like his life depended on it. From the way you were glaring, it just might.
“Wow, doll,” Hancock gave a low whistle as he watched the guard retreat. “Didn’t think lil’ comments like that would set you off.”
“They were bein’ a jerk,” you wiped your bloody knuckles on the hem of your shirt, still fuming.
“It was kind of hot.”
“HANCOCK!”
Nick
“Machines shouldn’t have free will,” a brotherhood scribe scowls at Nick as the two of you walk passed. He had known you were asking for trouble when you decided to explore the Prydwarden with him by your side, and he had been ready. Thankfully, comments like these were the extent of the good ol’ Brotherhood hospitality. He was more than happy to fire back with one of his signature sarcastic remarks.
Unfortunately, you beat him to it with a swift punch to the scribe’s face.
The scribe reels backwards before finding his footing, scowling at you as he cups a hand over his bleeding nose. You narrow your eyes, and Nick swears you start standing taller. He hadn’t seen you this mad since you had killed Kellogg in Fort Strong.
“What is wrong with you!?” the scribe screams, and Valentine can feel himself bracing for a fight. There’s no way you’ll get away from this without fighting your way out. The scribe’s screams were definitely going to summon more Brotherhood soldiers. The scribe, thankfully, doesn’t attack just yet.
“You insulted my friend,” you say it with venom dripping from every syllable.
“Your friend!?” the scribe shouts. “That tin can is nothing more than–”
Whatever he was about to say is cut off by another punch to the face. The scribe crumples to the ground, unconscious. Nick watches him fold to the ground in stunned silence.
“C’mon,” you walk down the hallway, away from the scribe. “Let’s get off this ship before someone finds him passed out in the hall.”
“Well, can’t say I’m sorry to say goodbye to the Prydwarden,” Nick grimaces and follows you down the hallway. “But punching someone’s lights out hardly seems the best course of action.”
“Well he was being a racist prick,” you huff, rubbing your bruised knuckles.
“Well, you certainly know how to make an old synth feel special,” his expression is unreadable, but his voice sounds amused. “Still, I’d rather you didn’t jump to my defence while in the middle of enemy territory.”
“He had it coming!” you growl, still fuming. Nick needs to suppress a laugh as he follows behind you. He knew you could be tough when you needed to be, but you usually at least tried to give people the chance to walk away. Not that he was complaining, mind you.
Strong
DC guard says to keep him on a leash. He not care. Let puny human try to put leash on him.
You punch guard? Punching things good!
Guard fall on ground immediately! You punch almost as good as supermutant!
Peonies are flowers that are connected to the first love that some people have. Heather there is a small bouquet that is left next to your nightstand whilst Dragon works long nights or you see Dragon pull part of his cape aside to unveil more peonies that he hand delivers to you when he gets a break. There is a small supply run that Betty now goes on in order to gather peonies from a specific island.
You would always receive white and coral coloured peonies.
Dragon worked a lot, the man was burdened by guilt that was just reinforced with determination. Dragon constantly pushed for the freedom of others but he often stripped himself of freedom.
Dragon is a good man and a haunted one at that. You would walk over to his desk and place the white and coral peonies between you as you pulled up a chair to sit next to him. Promptly, you take half of the stack of new intelligence documents that had come through thanks to Koala and Sabo’s recent excursion in Dressrosa. You make sure to organise them by date, just to make sure that it’s easier for him to sort through.
“I know you feel bad, but you have to stop giving me white flowers, you don’t need to apologise, i knew what i was getting into when i got with you Dragon”
Dragon pauses and looks up from his work and turns his head towards you with tired eyes.
“I know, but expectations are often different from reality my love. I’m away more than even i expect-“
You cut him off quickly by moving the peonies to his hand and entwine your fingers together.
“Shut up Dragon, i love you enough no matter how often you have to leave or work, we’re revolutionaries. And at that, you need rest, you cannot keep this together if you are falling asleep at your desk, come to bed”.
“…alright”
Peonies are flowers that symbolise first love, passionate love, accomplishment, good fortune and they are flowers that are used for the celebration of achievements. White peonies are often given in apology when someone feels shame, whilst coral peonies symbolise strong relationships, happiness and success.
Snakes head fritillary (the first flower picture) and Ranunculus (the second flower picture - the light pink rose like flower).
It was an ancient ritual, one that had almost been wiped out when the snake empress and her sisters had been hunted and branded by those false, greed driven ‘gods’.
Flowers that were given to the amazonian woman’s person of interest would represent both a shard of the amazonian’s past and what the Amazonian felt that the person they were interested in represented.
As Boa was interested in you? She gad moved towards where the old trail grounds were and had picked those two sets of flowers. The Amazon Lily empress had spent hours carefully organising the flowers into an ornate bouquet for you, making sure that it was perfect. The empress herself had carefully cut off a section of the bottom of her skirt to show that a part of her was now woven with you and woven into the promise she was going to make to stay by your side.
The empresses clothes were extremely important in Amazon Lily culture, a fully preserved snake skin was very hard to find completely in tact in the forests on the island. Each part of the snake skin was woven with silk from the local silk worm minks who lived in the Alka Trees.
“Snakes head fritillary.”
Boa says as she shows the outer flowers of the bouquet.
“A flower that gives recognition to my past. They symbolise melancholy, sorrow and deep mourning. I place these in my bouquet to you in order to honour my fallen sisters and bare my soul to you, even the wounded parts”
Boa speaks as her gold snake earrings glint in the sun, jingling softly as she steps forward ad places the bouquet in your hands.
“And on the inside? Are Ranunculus. A flower that symbolises charm, attraction and radiant beauty, all things that encompass you. The lakes bloomed plenty this year and i take this as a great sign for us, my flower”
Boa smiles as the ceremony continuous around you both as you are crowned the empresses partner.
Did Buggy laugh for a good like ten minutes when he saw the name of the flower? Absolutley, of course he fucking did. He laughed until he wheezed before snatching a few of the flowers.
Originally, Buggy did have the plan of leaving the flowers that share their name with an innuendo on the corpses of rival crews that Buggy had defeated as an extra fuck you.
Until he gets with you, every now and then Buggy will blame it on Cabbaji and make you believe that the acrobat had ordered a shipment of morning glory by mistake.
Buggy will still leave them by crews he had defeated, but he had started to shove some of the flowers into your hands, you had said once that they were your favourite... and then Buggy had stuttered some excuse and left.
"Here! Their clogging up storage, do something with them!"
Buggy has never read a book about flowers or their meaning in his life, and he probably never would.
"Tch there, I saw you looking at them. As your great captain I have the generosity to bestow some upon you or whatever!"
Buggy grins, splitting off his hand from his body and using it to deliver flowers to that empty vase across the room. The same vase that you had stolen from a market to hold the first set of morning glory flowers that Buggy had gotten you.
Morning Glory serves as a reminder of the fleeting nature of life and encourages individuals to embrace love and affection in their daily lives. The flower symbolises tenderness, and tenacity, prodding individuals to pursue their dreams with endless persistence.
Shamrock didnt need to concern himself with customs that commoners took part in ehilst trying to romance others. The gifting of flowers hsd never made much sense to him. It was unnecessarily dirty, to touch the plants that existed in the tainted soil of those islands on the blue sea below Marijoa.
Why dirty your hands when someone else could pick flowers for you?
If you wanted something or someone then you either bought it or you forcefully took it yourself. That was the way of the holy knights and celestial dragons.
And yet.
Here he was in the private manicured gardens of the Figarland estate...picking fucking flowers. Shamrocks skin crawled at the soil under his nails, and whilst he felt the overwhelming need to wash this mortal filth from his hands? He keeps picking them until he gets a bundle. Tying them together with a thick red silk ribbon.
"Here, they've been growing well from the gardeners tending to them, ive saved most of the roots if you do wish to keep them in your room. Im sure I can get a maid to help make a hanging basket."
Pansies are flowers that are heavily connected to the planet Saturn. Youd think that in the Figarland estate the flowers would all be red, right?
But no.
The pansies that Shamrock had ordered to be grown were specifically blue and purple pansies. There was only one useful thing that bastard Sommers had ever said with his filthy mouth...and that was about the meaning of pansies, he had probably talked about other meanings of different flowers, but pansies had stuck with Shamrock.
Blue pansies represent loyalty, devotion and truthfulness. Purple pansies represent royalty and beauty. Overall? Pansies are strongly connected to discipline and responsibility.
Throughout Shamrocks life, he had served the Abyss order, the holy knights and Imu-sama. And now?
Now Shamrock had found himself devoted to you. Not just duty, not just following orders, no. Devotion. Pure devotion. Not just from responsibility or discipline, no, this time it was from choice.
It had been years since that day. The day that the world had changed forever, the day that power tilted in the World Governments favour and had destroyed upcoming threats against the gods of this world.
Years since Garling had started to quietly leave those flowers by your family's house in Marijoa.
Those exact flowers that had bloomed in blood of that crumbling island... Moonflowers.
Moonflowers. They emerge and glow under moonlight typically. The flowers are known to bloom under nightfall, during the time that Garlings blade carved through hunting trophies on islands.
Even the curve of the petals of the moonflower reminded you of the supreme commander of the holy knights. Garling and his stupid fucking hair that you had started to place those very same flowers in.
"Do you really get so much enjoyment out of these humiliation rituals that you decide to put me through?"
Garling would complain. You could never show affection outside of these walls, his image needed to be maintained after all and a singular breach could cost you both everything. Comrade or not, the holy knights could tarnish someone, even if it was one of their own.
Moonflowers symbolise mystery, secret love, romantic devotion that hides from the worlds prying eyes and they are flowers that provide hope during dark times.
Ironic, as Garling and the celestial dragon stronghold that you find yourself in are the cause of the darkness that plague this world.
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.
I just discovered your work about 2 days ago and I am OBSESSED! You have amazing ideas!!! May I request Hancock and Nick (together or separate) with a s/o who often feels like they are interrupted or not listened to? For example, the reader kinda feels belittled. Not by either of the two, but by people in general?
thank you!!
𝙽𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚢, 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚂𝚘𝚕𝚎
ꨄ Pairing: Nick Valentine/John Hancock x reader
ꨄ Summary: When the request asked for, duh.
ꨄ Authors note: I'm SO sorry this took so long. For some reason it wouldn't let me access this request for months, like half of my inbox is gone. I have no idea why, but that's why I didn't reply before. Also maybe ooc?
ꨄ Word Count: 666
𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔:
ꨄ John Hancock has always stood up for people who couldn't do it for themselves. You are obviously no exception to this rule. If you can't step up for yourself, he might have to help a hand.
ꨄ Hancock isn't easily overlooked or ignored. Well, at least not by anyone who values their life. Obviously, they wouldn't be stupid enough to ignore their mayor's beloved partner either.
ꨄ A glare sent the way of anyone disrespecting you is usually all Hancock needs to send a message. Nobody gets to walk all over you if he gets a say about it.
ꨄ with all that being said, Hancock does think you need to be able to stand up for yourself. He can't be around you all the time, even if he wants to be.
ꨄ Hancock more or less tries to toughen you up. It's not like he hates your soft-spoken nature, he's just incredibly concerned that people might take advantage of you or worse.
ꨄ Personally, you not being as harsh as him is a nice contrast. Hancock feels like it's a nice break from the harsh violence of the wasteland. Your more shy and sweet nature is what he loves about you, even he tries to get you to put your foot down.
ꨄ Luckily, his reputation usually is enough to have people back off. People listen to you and take you seriously, lest they want to risk a knife in the gut or a bullet in the brain from the feared yet loved mayor of Goodneighbor.
ꨄ That doesn't stop some scheming criminals from trying to use your soft nature to use it to their advantage. You likely had multiple close calls because of it.
ꨄ Usually if he can't be there to be your backbone, he has Fahrenheit stick around you, even if its just from afar.
𝙽𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚅𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎:
ꨄ Nick's wit is sharp enough for the both of you most of the time. This man is so smooth with his insults that he leaves a lot of wastelanders completely dumbfounded. Biting back at insults is a talent he has mastered for years.
ꨄ Luckily, most of Diamond city is grateful for all the things Nick Valentine has done for them, and most people know better than to be unpleasant to their only detective's spouse.
ꨄ Nick is pretty good at making sure people don't walk all over you, even if it's in a far less threatening way that Hancock's method.
ꨄ With that being said, though, he tends to hurt the feelings of the people who ignore you far more than they ever hurt yours by making you feel so small.
ꨄ Just like Hancock, he has a strong sense of justice. Unlike him, he is less violent about it. He's not going to shoot that guy in the face, but he will make a snide remark about it if he gets the chance.
ꨄ Nick sits you down a few times, wanting to figure out how he could make you confident enough to take steps to protect yourself.
ꨄ With that said, he tries other approaches. He knows very well that the more soft-spoken people of the Commonwealth are the ones that wind up missing or robbed the most. After years of working cases, he hates the idea of you ending up the way, it worries him even if he won't say it.
ꨄ Every time you go out on your own, he worries what could happen to you. He accompanies you every single time he can, but sometimes things get in the way. Whereas Hancock would employ Fahrenheit to look after you, Nick might ask Piper to keep you safe. He knows Piper is a troublemaker, but her sharp tongue might deter some of the scum of the Commonwealth.
ꨄ Your shyness only makes Nick more determined in his job. He doesn't like how hard good-natured people like you have to suffer under the strain of less pleasant folks, he never did.
your op favs as common relationship tropes? Like best friends to lovers? Enemies to lovers? Etc?
LOL SURE! I have a lot of op favs :D I also did just general characters a lot of people like so quite a few strawhats will be here, dw guys!
Ace is definitely best friends older brother (+ childhood friends to lovers). I can’t get it outtt of my head like luffy your dumbass best friend but also Ace has been tagging along since yall were kids, you guys grow up together and he’s always been like a supportive rock for you whenever you needed it, and if luffy ever did something stupid to upset you he’d punch his brother and knock some sense into him. Also just love the idea of him being “protective” when guys try to flirt with you, whenever you guys are drinking, etc. but knowing he likes you PLUS not being able to confess because he wants to respect Luffy, and then luffy randomly is just calling you guys a couple and ace is like “excuse me.” “What?” “WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT.” And that’s how ace eventually decides maybe it’s fine if he asks you out.
Lawwww! The friends to lovers matchmaker crush trope with law is my fav. Law liking an oblivious ass person to the point they try to match him with anyone they find on the street would be amusing for everyone that isn’t law. He continuously tries to get you to knock it off and eventually when he’s driven to the brink he just confesses in a bit of a rage (also probably takes your matchmaking as you not liking him back and trying to give him somebody else because law loves to misinterpret and assume when it comes to you).
Zoro trope that makes me laugh is brothers best friend… or best frenemy in this case. Zoro having feelings for SANJI’S sibling will always be funny. Sanji would be pissed, Zoro doesn’t care. Okay maybe he cared at first and tried to deny it, but eventually decided it would be really funny to piss Sanji was off so he stopped caring about liking you as much.
Luffy with first love trope because you’re definitely his first and only. Also best friends to lovers because there’s no way he ain’t falling in love with his best friend. Childhood friends to lovers as a bonus.
Doffy with can’t live with them, can’t live without them because we all know how toxic that man is. He is extremely frustrating sometimes, especially with his rather controlling nature but you can’t find it in you to leave, because you need him too.
Crocodile I would say secret relationship is HEAVY with this one (+ coworkers to lovers). I guess. There’s just something inherently crocodile about having an affair with your boss.
Hancock is totally enemies to lovers to me. Like fucking despises you at first but like Luffy, you do something that proves your innocent, kind soul, and she falls in love with you. She fell first they fell harder is cute in hindsight, but she’s definitely the one that fell harder.
Nami relationship coach is so real. You’re trying to get better with girls and Nami tries to help you because you’re hopeless, and she ends up wishing you were trying to get better at romance (and sex probably) for her sake. She just ends up realizing she likes you through the experience.
Sanji it’s absolutely he fell first they fell harder idk what to tell you. For obvious reasons, he ends up crushing on you first, but you end up falling really hard for him because despite his perverted schemes, he’s the sweetest guy you ever met. Runaway fiance for the funnies. Love at first sight, duh.
Robin is just a classic friends to lovers. For I really can’t imagine Robin sleeping with anyone or doing anything risky like that. I think she just naturally falls for somebody she’s close to. Different story pre strawhats though I could see that being friends w benefits to lovers, lol. But after meeting Luffy and the others, defo not.
Usopp is also friends to lovers for me because I can’t see Usopp just sleeping randomly with whoever. Love at first sight is kinda heavy here though, he adores you IMMEDIATELY.
Corazon and secret relationship is just so real and I would think nobody would question me on this one. He just wants to protect you. Long distance relationship as well because he’s always out doing shit. He loves you 😢
Kid is so the rich and the poor just hear me OUTTTT. My god, him falling for some “rich priss” he accidentally pissed off when they first met, and that he continues to purposefully annoy and piss off just to get their attention. So yeah, enemies to lovers core to the max.
Killer is also the rich and the poor but like in a different way. You’re just rather intrigued by him and his travels and fall in love with this sweetie pie. And killer just naturally falls for you as well. Screams into the void I love killer so much.
