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dazed-and-confused23 · 1 day

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Assumption

Just something short and sweet for Hancock.

Warnings! Drug use and withdrawls symptoms. Puking and the like. Reader comforts John. He's so in love. Hurt/comfort

Pairings! John Hancock x Reader

Masterlist

You know something is wrong with John when he has to stop for the third time that day to upchuck what little he's eaten. You stand off to the side after the ghoul had made it known that he didn't want your help right now. He had snapped at you to shove off, and you had, even if your concern now battled with hurt.

You're still wracking your brain on what could even make a ghoul so sick when you suddenly recall that you can't remember the last time Hancock had stopped for a short chem break. It's been at least a few days, you think, and your concern blooms into worry.

"John," you say and step close to his side. He leans on you without thinking, and you easily take his willowy weight, "When was the last time you had any jet? Or even a mentat?"

John spits to the side and takes a deep breath as he fights through how badly his stomach is cramping and the raging headache that threatens to send him to the ground. The world spins, so he closes his black eyes again.

"Dunno. Couple days, at least," He coughs again and opens his eyes, forcing himself to meet your gaze with an uneasy smile, "Sorry if I got any on ya, Sunshine."

"So you are going through withdrawals," you say, and John tenses under your hand. You grab his face, tilting his chin down to meet your unhappy gaze, "Why?"

If Hancock could blush, he would even with how bad he feels. It still amazed him that someone who was so pure as you wanted anything to do with someone damaged like him. He wanted to be better for you. You were his everything, after all.

"I heard you talkin' with Nick the other day," Hancock admits, and his shoulder draw up, an embarrassed tilt to his voice, "I want to be around for as long as I can, baby. So I thought the best choice was to stop my habit."

You cast your mind back to the conversation he's referring to, and shake your head with a sigh.

"Baby. I wasn't talking about you. Nick and I were talking about Cait," you say and grip his jaw when he tries to look away from you. You lean up and kiss him, and Hancock feels his heart clench in his chest, "If chems were the thing that killed you, you'd already be dead."

Despite the grim, harsh words, they weirdly make John feel better. And it felt good to know that his lover and best friend hadn't been talking behind his back about his chem addiction. His shoulders slump, and his shaky hands come up to grip your waist tightly. Hancock can't understand how he'd gotten so lucky.

"Maybe I shouldn't have assumed, huh, Sunshine?" John rasps, and you roll your eyes at his embarrassed grin and kiss him again. The ghoul drops a hand to fish into his pocket and pulls out a tin of mentats. He pops two into his mouth and sighs in pleasure when the chalky tablets melt under his tongue.

You meet his gaze with a content smile, happy to see the almost instant relief in Hancock's black eyes. Then scowl up at him, "You shouldn't have. We're a team, John. Remember that."

Hancock smirks, pocketing the metal tin. He drops his hand back to your hips as everything comes into sharp focus. John digs his thumbs into your sides and dips to press his lips to your brow.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, love. No more secrets," He murmurs softly. That's a promise John can keep.

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roosterm3at · 24 days

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