#fo4 x reader

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!

Especially on a cool, clear night like this - almost unreasonably pleasant for an evening in the nuclear wasteland - the citizens who hadn’t flocked to the Third Rail weren’t surprised to see their Mayor perched on the landing over their heads, elbows braced on the flag-draped railing and the cherry of a lit cig glowing amidst the street lamps. Some raised a hand or shouted in greeting as they passed, while others lingered, exchanging pleasantries or giving reports from the Neighborhood Watch. 

If Hancock’s answers came delayed, his voice notably quavering, no one thought much of it. And from their vantage point on the ground, no one could see how his hands gripped the rail, so tight that his knuckles would have been white beneath the radiation-damaged skin. 

All the better for you. 

“Shit, sunshine.”

Hancock hissed, barely audible. His thighs were shaking, the lean muscle flexing beneath your fingertips. You hummed, swallowing with an audible gulp, and heard the railing behind your head creak worryingly. 

Pulling off his cock with a sleazy gasp, you replaced your lips with a loose fist, clicking your tongue at John in mocking disapproval. “Careful baby, this is a historic building, remember?” 

“I’m gonna be history if you don’t stop teasing me, sweetheart,” he wheezed, hips twitching into your hand when you pressed your thumb into the dripping slit at his cockhead. You rolled your eyes fondly and chased the pump of your hand with a long, languid swipe of your tongue, flicking at the deepest ridge of his textured skin that you knew would make him whine around his cigarette. One of his hands released the rail and found its way to your hair instead, curling into a loose fist at your nape. 

You drew back and swiped at your mouth, cleaning some of the drool and come that had accumulated on your chin. “Okay, just try not to be too loud — mmph.”

In the same movement, his fist tugged your hair back and his hips pitched forward, sheathing himself in your open mouth. You whined through your nose as Hancock pressed deeper, bullying his way into your throat with little pumps of his hips. He paused, your throat tight and hot around him; you could feel him leaking steadily into you, the taste of his cum vaguely metallic on the back of your tongue. When he pulled out, a thick, glistening strand connected your mouth to his tip. 

“Deeper, baby,” you slurred, saliva dripping from your swollen lips.  “Don’t wanna waste a drop.”   

“Sunshine—” He rasped, and that was the only warning you got before he slid back into your throat in one smooth slide. Your nose pressed into his rough skin, the short, whimpering breaths you managed to huff through your nose heady with his scent, and your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a final groan around him. That was enough — Hancock came with a curse down your throat, one, two, three pulses before he pulled you back and let the rest trickle onto your outstretched tongue. You shivered, your head light and thighs wet. 

“Jesus,” you croaked, swaying as you rose unsteadily before he caught you by the waist, “You were a little backed up, huh?” 

“Your fault, leaving me behind so long,” he growled, hands sliding down your hips to give your ass a squeeze. You smiled, swiping the last drops of cum from your chin with your thumb and sucking it into your mouth. A low groan rumbled through him as he watched you, fingers flexing tighter against you. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days.” 

You grinned. “But what a way to go, right?” 

His answering chuckle was muffled into your mouth as he leaned in to kiss you, wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you through the door into the State House. “We should, uh, probably get some RadAway in you.”  

“Way ahead of you.” A familiar voice drifted from Hancock’s quarters. 

You locked eyes with John and laughed, a flush rising to your cheeks. Nick was lounging on one of the couches in his shirtsleeves, a prepped IV of Radaway beside him. He glanced up from the files in his hands when you stumbled through the door, a playful gleam in his yellow eyes.

“Sorry, Nick,” Hancock drawled, not sounding particularly sorry at all. “Hope ya didn’t wait long.” 

Nick scoffed, automatically reaching out to hold your waist as Hancock guided you to a comfortable seat, slumping on the armrest beside him. “Should’ve known better than to leave you two alone for ten minutes.” 

“Hey, at least nothing’s on fire this time.” 

The grey skin of his brow ridge quirked, his gentle hands holding your arm steady as Hancock slid the needle into the crook of your elbow. “Small miracles, I suppose.”  

You laughed again, then cut yourself off with a grimace as the RadAway started to take effect — it always gave you a killer headache, a pulsing in your temples making you wince and shut your eyes against the bright lights in Hancock’s quarters. Without waiting for your word, John was already up and moving to hit the lights, replacing the glare of the ceiling light with the dim glow of a table lamp you’d scrounged from Sanctuary (he’d teased you, as they all did, for picking up everything electronic that you could get your hands on, but had accepted the gift with pleasure all the same.) 

Nick’s hand on your chin, the cool plastic of a water bottle raised to your lips. You took a few eager gulps, then let yourself recline on the armrest again, breathing slowly.  

“John,” you called as his footsteps drew nearer. His palm cupped your cheek, warm and rough against your skin, and you nuzzled into the touch. “How d’you think we should apologize to Nick for making him wait?” 

A gravelly chuckle as he moved around you, then the cushions shifting beneath you, a soft grunt from Nick and the sound of a folder scattering on the floor. “I got a few ideas, sunshine.” 

“Get started without me, won’t you?” You sighed, blinking in the dim as you watched Hancock settle in Nick’s lap.  “I’ll just enjoy the show for a bit.”  

Nick chuckled, exasperated, but tilted his head all the same as Hancock bent to mouth at the ragged skin of his throat. “Don’t you two ever turn off?” 

Hancock pressed the inhaler to his withered lips and took a deep inhale. He tossed the used chem to the side, immediately forgotten about, and cupped Sole’s cheek, connecting his lips to theirs. He breathed the chem out, into their mouth and felt the chem making his head lighter. Sole breathed in the chems and leaned into his touch, feeling the stressful day they had melting away. Hancock hungrily nipped at their bottom lip and thrusted his tongue into his mouth as Sole gasped at the sudden movement. He kissed them until they tapped his shoulder to tell him that they needed air.

Hancock pulled back and grinned down at them, a string of saliva connecting their lips which he licked away. He glanced down at their shirt and looked back at them with a silent plea, to which Sole nodded eagerly. He took off their shirt and immediately kissed them as soon as their head was free, connecting to them like a magnet, kissing down the side of their neck and letting his hands wander from their waist to giving a playful squeeze to their ass. He pulled them onto his lap so they were straddling him, Sole crossed their wrists behind his neck.

“God you’re perfect” he mumbled into their neck and skillfully unhooked their bra. Hancock peeled the bra off of them and flung it behind him, landing somewhere near the discarded chems. Hancock stared at their chest as if seeing them for the first time. His hands moved with a mind of their own and cupped the sides of their breasts and pushed them together, squeezing softly. Sole’s nipples perked up in the cold air and made Hancock’s mouth start to salivate.

Sole whined rocked their hips forward against his lap, blushing as he stared at their breasts, “Stop teasing...” they mewled. Hancock chucked and looked up at them with his onyx eyes, “Haven’t you heard that patience is a virtue?” Sole huffed and hazily looked down at him, “Please, I need your mouth.”

Who was he to say no?

He couldn’t resist the perky buds in front of him, they always left a metallic taste in his mouth that was just like blood. God when was the last time he as able to lick the blood off a fresh slab of meat? This seemed like the next best thing.

Hancock leaned forward and took Sole’s left nipple into his mouth, massaging the bud with his tongue and hallowing his checks every so often. He pinched and squeezed at the unoccupied tip with his right hand, the other hand was resting on Sole’s hip, absent minded lh drawing circles with his thumb. Switching back and forth between the two buds, Hancock thrusted up softly against Sole’s hips. Sole grinded down on his hardened cock and leaned their head back in pleasure, arching their back to push their nipples even further into Hancock’s eager mouth. He nippled softly at the buds and then bit down softly when his mouth surrounded their areola. Hancock hooked his teeth around the right piercing and tugged, looking up at Sole’s blissed out face as they continued grinding down on him and whimpering from the tugging. Hancock gave their nipple a few kitten licks before grinning up at them, “Tastes just like house keys and there’s no place like home.” Sole rolled their eyes and was about to scold him when he nipped her left bud and tugged on the piercing with his teeth, his rough lips adding extra stimulation around the area. Sole was aching for more and rolled their hips more intensely against his, wordlessly telling him what they needed.

The chems, stimulation, and grinding was getting all too much for the couple and Hancock returned his mouth to Sole’s, sloppily tangling their tongues together as they focused on grinding against one another to get to their peaks. “There you go, just like that,” he groaned and gripped their hips, moving them faster against his aching length.

Hancock groaned and bit into Sole’s neck, enough to draw blood. This sent Sole tumbling over the edge as they reached their climax at the same time that Hancock creamed his pants. He pulled back a little and licked the bite mark clean of a blood as an apology. It took everything in him not to immediately get hard again as he stared at his claim on them, a mark that reminded him that they were truly his.

Sole pressed their face into his neck and hugged him around his waist, “Mmm feels fuzzy…” Hancock’s mouth tugged into a grin as he rubbed their back with his hands, “I don’t know about you, but I need some new fucking pants sunshine.” Sole burst out in laughter and nodded, “Yeah yeah give me a second to recover weirdo.” Hancock kissed their forehead and pulled them close to his body, “Whatever you need, I’ll be here.”