#raul tejada x courier six

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

PLEASE more Raul content. Headcannons, fics, I genuinely don't care I love your writing and ghoul opinions I'm biting the walls of my enclosure for more Raul stuff!!

I've got a one-shot for our boy Raul coming up, but I also promised more headcanons, so enjoy! He's such a sweetheart and, like with Cooper Howard, I'm a real mark for reserved and lonely old men rediscovering sex.

Raul Tejada (Fallout: New Vegas) NSFW Headcanons 2

Not great at dirty talk, per se, but he can be very sweet and flirtatious in a way that can really get you going, anyway. He thinks dirty things, certainly, and when you're driving him extra crazy he may mutter one or two of them quietly, or grunt them out in Spanish if he knows you don't speak the language. He's both rusty and afraid to frighten you, or disrespect you in a way that turns you off. If you're prone to dirty talk yourself, he'll enjoy it, but he does get rather red-faced about it, even a tad flustered sometimes, especially in the beginning.

If your gun skills aren't as high as you'd like them to be, he's happy to provide you with some training on how to shoot. He's thrilled to know that you're better equipped to take care of yourself...and it's a great excuse to get into your personal space and hold you in a way that comes across as natural, as well as a way to show off something he's skilled at in a safe environment. He feels like a pervert while he does it, though; rapidly, his only thoughts become about how nice you smell, how warm and soft you feel, until all he can think about is bending you over the nearest stable surface. If you notice him getting a bit hard during one of your lessons, don't be shy.

Not much of an exhibitionist, or even one for quickies in most places. He's not particularly interested in really fooling around much if you aren't somewhere explicitly safe, or damn-near. Not for a lack of desire towards you; he simply worries too much for your safety. Fears that he could lose you because he was distracted by his own desires, and knows that if that happened, it would literally kill him.

Do I need to say that he would enjoy you playing damsel in distress so he can save you? The feeling of saving you, protecting you is satisfying for its own reason, but he's also a big fan of just how appreciative you are afterwards. Who doesn't love a good "thank you" blow job? It's fairly apparent in his characterization and his backstory that something like that would be right up his alley, but I think you'd have to initiate something like that yourself.

Honestly, I think pretty much anything that isn't in the "vanilla book of sex" is going to have to be suggested by you. Raul has unconventional desires, he has kinks...but he's also old, often tired, and usually just a little too skittish and self-conscious to bring anything like that up himself. As I've discussed before, I don't think BDSM or anything in that area would really be his thing, but I believe most other things he could be persuaded to at least try out if you're interested in them. He wants to make you happy. Plus, some of the things you want sound hot...

[lelelego]

what are you so small for? for other men to pick you up?? 🤨

[yesmansyesman]

Fanfiction added (Yes Man x Reader)

AN UNUSUAL NEW UPDATE

[ Includes ]

Wireplay (Sort of?)

Filthy, filthy smut

Dub con (I guess?)

Really, really enthusiastic con the immediate next line

Overstimulation

Robophilia

[ Read at your own discretion! ]

[ Heavily inspired by this AO3 Fanfiction]

It was a relatively slow day at the Lucky 38. Well, as slow as things can be around here. You’d sent Yes Man out on a small quest on your behalf; getting rid of some remaining Caeser’s Legion members hiding out in Freeside.

It wouldn’t be even remotely challenging for the both of you, especially compared to the other things you’d fought in the wasteland. Compared to an army of charging Deathclaws, a couple of Rome cosplayers were trivially easy to deal with. So, you sent Yes Man out by himself. It would simply be more efficient. 

Quest completed

PICKING OFF STRAGGLERS 

Ah, speak of the devil.

Almost like clockwork, the doors to the Lucky 38 swung open, a blood-soaked Yes Man entering the building. Needless to say from his now crimson chassis, the mission was a success. 

“Hello Courier! I’m glad to say the last few members of Caeser’s Legion have been properly dealt with!”

“I could tell. You might want to clean yourself off, bud. Dried blood doesn’t come out too easily.”

Yes Man inspected his dark red chassis, examining his arms, coated in dried blood.

“That sounds like a great idea!”

Yes Man began to make his way to a backroom in the Lucky 38, when he suddenly paused, and turned to face you.

“Oh, I almost forgot! On the way, I also paid a visit to Mick & Ralph’s!”

A hidden compartment revealed itself on Yes Man’s chassis with a satisfying hiss and click, as he reached inside, unveiling a slightly rusted holodisk. It looked fairly normal on the outside, only with a small label plastered on; ‘From, Ralph’.

“A man in a Buffalo Check shirt gave me this; he told me he’d ‘heard about how things turned out for you’ and asked me to help him deliver this! I’m not sure what it does, but boy, does it sound interesting!”

“Interesting, indeed. I’ll have Raul take a look at this.”

“That sounds like a great idea! Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be thoroughly scrubbed down! Really, really thoroughly!”

Quest added

TALK TO RAUL

“Hey boss, how can I help ya?”

You passed over the holodisk, placing it gently on his desk. 

“Could you help me take a look at this?”

“Sure thing. I’ll see what I can do.”

He delicately picked up the holodisk, examining it closely. Inspecting the label, still on the device.

“Ah, from Mick & Ralph’s, I see.”

Raul lightly dusted the holodisk, before loading it into the personal terminal located on his desk. With a few swift clicks on his keyboard, the screen lit up, green text rapidly loading onto the display. He read the gibberish on the screen carefully, like it was a language only he could understand.

“Luckily for me, it ain’t some kind of malware.”

“Then, what is it?”

“It looks like some package of code intended for Securitrons. It’s not even anything major by the looks of it, just changes up some button inputs.”

Raul scrolled through the brief paragraph of code, discovering more text, this time actually understandable, product information, it seemed. Raul read through it thoroughly, scoffing when he finished. He rotated the terminal, facing the CRT monitor towards you.

“Boss, they wrote down what this thing does right here. Come and take a look, I think you’ll be… interested.”

Quest completed

TALK TO RAUL

Quest added

READ THE FOOTNOTES

Quest completed

READ THE FOOTNOTES

Quest added

INSTALL THE DISK

“Courier, are you sure about this?”

“Yes Man, I promise you; this holodisk won’t affect your personality in any way, and if you feel otherwise, you can always tell me to stop. You had that personality upgrade installed for a reason, right?”

“I-I’m not telling you to stop! I just sure hope you know what you’re doing, because you aren’t, this Securitron body may self-destruct! And that would be bad, really bad.”

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

You carefully installed the holodisk. Yes Man’s, unlike other Securitrons, circuits were haphazardly placed all over the inside of his chassis. Whatever Benny did to him, he sure did it messily. Eventually, however, after working through piles of unsorted wires and mismatched machinery, the disk was installed. With a brief system reboot, Yes Man had been successfully updated.

Quest completely

INSTALL THE DISK

Quest added

UPGRADE PLAYTEST

“Hm, that’s odd. I don’t feel any different. Or explosive. Well, that’s a good sign!”

“Not so fast, Yes Man. There’s still one more thing I need to do. I need to see if the upgrade works as intended.” “Sounds interesting! How may I help you with that?”

“Don’t worry, just stand still. You’ll find out what that holodisk does very, very soon.”

Gently, you lead your hand towards Yes Man’s keypad. You deftly place a finger on a key, pressing it before he had a chance to react. 

“O-oh!”

“How was it?”

“D-do that again…please?”

“Sure thing, big guy.”

Click!

“A-ah!”

Click!

“Ngh-!”

Click!

“M-mph!”

Yes Man was losing his composure more and more with each deft click, his antenna spinning rapidly and a cool layer of condensation forming on his display. Of course, how could he have forgotten, Mick & Ralph’s had experience working on robots before with Fisto, didn’t they? Of course their idea of an upgrade would be… this.

Not that he was complaining, though.

“W-wow! That feels really, really good…”

You carelessly push a few buttons all at once.

“H-Hah-!”

There you go, just let me hear those beautiful noises.

“O-oh! S-six!”

You decide to go all in, discarding any resemblance of self-control. Using and holding as many keys as your fingers could reach. 

“O-oh my-y-!”

“Having fun, bud?”

“I-I love you I love you I love you-!”

"I'll take that as a yes."

Yes Man’s vocal processor was being pushed to its limits, the audio scratched and staticy as Yes Man wore his metaphorical throat out singing moans of pleasure, screaming to the heavens above. His display was drenched in condensation as water droplets visibly dripped down his chassis. The tornado-like buzz of cooling fans were the only other audible noise amongst the squeals of pure ecstasy.

“Y-you’re my everything-g-g-g-!”

“Glad to hear it. You ready?”

“P-p-please!” Silly boy, his processors were already turning into melted plastic from the overstimulation.

“I’ll just press one more button, alright?”

“P-please please please please-!”

Click!

Quest completed

UPGRADE PLAYTEST

Quest added

CRASH LANDING

Quest completed

CRASH LANDING

“Yes Man? You there, bud?”

“W-what?”

“Oh thank god, you’re still alive.”

“Oh, hello Courier!”

Yes Man scanned his surroundings, having woken up on the floor of Raul’s workshop. His circuits were exposed, connected by several multi-coloured wires to a terminal being manned by the mechanic himself. He must’ve crashed. 

“Luckily for you, your main circuits aren’t badly damaged. You just blew a few fuses.”

“Wow! That was… sure some upgrade!”

“Some upgrade, indeed.”

You deftly place a hand on his keypad, with a touch so feathery light that it didn’t manage to push down on any of the keys, but merely tease him with the warmth radiating for your hand. A sensation he could barely even feel, but felt so, so good.

“So, how about a round two?”

“Y-yes please!”

Raul scoffs, turning off his terminal and unplugging the several cords connected to it. He lifts himself out of his chair with a grunt, and makes his way to the door.

“I’ll let you two do your thing then, boss.”

Quest added

JUST A FEW MORE ROUNDS

[everydayyoulovemeless]

What do you think the 'first time' with NV characters would be like?

First Time With the FNV Companions

➼ Word Count » 0.4k ➼ Warnings » MDNI ➼ Genre » NSFW, Romantic

Boone is rough in bed, but he can’t help but be more nervous and careful with you when it’s you’re first time with him. The last thing he wants is to overwhelm you. He wants to ease the both of you into the more animalistic side of him without making you uncomfortable. He’ll try to make it as romantic as he can, though he’s not the best at it. He’ll carry you to the bed and lay you down gently before slipping you out of your clothes gently. Well, he still sorta tears them off, but he's definitely trying to be softer for the first time.

Arcade always gets a little flustered when it comes to sleeping with someone for the first time. You'll have to do it a few more times before he finally gets more at ease and casual with it, but until then he's going to be whiny and slightly shaky. He's no virgin, but he certainly acts like one when you first take him to bed. It's like he's never even heard of sex before. Just do a little foreplay with him and he'll become less tense.

Raul hasn't slept with anyone since becoming a ghoul, and he worries that he may be rusty or that it would be uncomfortable for you. So, he'll ask an incessant amount of questions before initiating anything further. He just wants to make sure this is something you're really ready for before either of you takes any further steps. Once that's all sorted out, he's a very considerate lover. He doesn't even care he cums at all, his only focus is on you and your pleasure. He'll talk to you throughout the entire thing as well, happy that you like his company as much as he adores yours.

Your first time with Cass is casual. You were both horny, and she made the offer. It was messy and full of want and neither of you probably remembered it in the morning. She has a habit of including alcohol in her sex life a bit too often, so, chances are you were both taking shots before the interaction. She'd be surprised if either of you could manage to remember anything from last night, though she'd be open to doing it again, just to see what she missed.

Veronica’s hella romantic and would make it so that you’re first time with each other is gentle and so so so memorable. She plans the entire thing out, renting a room on the strip and trying her hand at cooking you both a meal right before. She's finding you a bouquet of irradiated flowers and putting on her fanciest dress. She can't wait to have you 'help' her out of it later tonight.

[libertybri]

Can I please get some romantic/fluffy Raul headcanons?

These are going to be very sporadic and random, so bear with me

Raul best shows affection to Six by words of affirmation, constantly uplifting and complimenting them

If Six is struggling to sleep next to him, he will softly sing in their ear

He loves to slow dance

Sometimes when Raul comes across scrap pieces of paper, he will write love letters for Six to keep

He stitches the holes in Six’s clothes, as well as makes repairs on their weapons and armor without them noticing

Raul prefers to make dinner for the two of them on date nights to impress Six with some old family recipes he remembers

If Six does not speak Spanish, he is more than willing and even excited to teach them

He loves to receive love in physical touch and words of affirmation

He will swoon for sweet words out of Six’s mouth, especially if it’s spoken in his native tongue

Hugs are his favorite thing from his favorite person; He loves to rest his head in the crook of Six’s neck and take in their scent while they hold each other tightly

He dreams of one day leaving the Vegas life behind and living on a farm with just him and Six, maybe a few brahmin and chickens

He would follow Six to the ends of the Earth and shows that love to them so easily and confidently

[nukaberries]

New Vegas companions react to a teenage courier?

Another super late post from me (I'm so sorry lmao) but better late than never! I've already said this but I love reading/writing for Teen!Sole/Courier - my courier oc is actually nineteen during the events on New Vegas so stuff like this helps with developing her too! <33

//

Companions React to Teen!Courier

(Includes: Arcade, Boone, Cass, Lily, Raul and Veronica)

Arcade

Straight off the bat, he's gonna have a lot more patience for a younger courier than he would an adult. He doesn't exactly have fond memories of being a teenager - but then again, who does anymore? - so he can't even begin to imagine what it must be like after what the courier had gone through. Although Arcade often prefers to avoid violence when he can, he's more than willing to resort to it when it comes to protecting the courier. However, this means he's all the more disappointed if the courier sides with the Legion, he understands they're far more impressionable and that only makes him harbour more anger towards the faction, but he'd still expected better from them.

Boone

Instantly goes into dad/big brother mode. Boone doesn't anticipate it happening, but he finds himself being much more protective over the courier than he'd like to be. He'd been so excited to be a father before Carla's death and in a strange way, the courier feels like a second chance. He won't mention it, of course, especially not at first, but he'll show that he cares in little ways like making sure Six has a larger portion of the rations than he does or by protecting them from danger before he even considers himself. Boone doesn't want to overstep, nor does he really feel comfortable talking about it, so he'll never bring up how much he cares, he just hopes the courier knows he'll protect them no matter what happens.

Cass

It doesn't make a complete difference to Cass. Of course, she's even more outraged over what Benny did to Six, finding their attempted murder horrific in general, but even more so when it's apparent the courier isn't even eighteen. While Boone takes on a paternal role, Cass quickly becomes an older sister and terrible influence all rolled into one. She'll offer Six whiskey to try, although she knows chances are they've already drank alcohol before - God knows she'd sampled enough as a teenager. She's always willing to give them advice, granted she knows it's not always the best and most moral advice, but she's doing her best regardless.

Lily

Honestly, not much about Lily's relationship with Six would change, even if they were a teenager. She takes her role as their grandma as seriously as ever, refusing to see any harm come to the courier. With Six being even closer in age to her Jimmy and Becky, it sometimes makes it even harder than it usually would for her to remember she's not actually talking to her grandchildren. She's just grateful that the courier is patient with her, even if she isn't the perfect grandma sometimes.

Raul

It's hard for Raul to not be reminded of Rafaela and Claudia when he first meets the courier - regardless of their gender. Almost similarly to Boone, he sees them as a chance to do better and actually protect someone for once (third times the charm, right?) He manages to play it off with sarcasm and quick wit, but he truly does care for Six and he wants what's best for them. Perhaps he won't always agree with their choices and he makes a point to voice that when it's the case, but there's never a day he won't stand by them. He refuses to lose someone a third time.

Veronica

She's actually really excited to meet the teenaged courier. When with the Brotherhood of Steel, Veronica would love spending time with the squires, constantly being reprimanded for distracting them from their work - sure, Six is a little bit older, but she doesn't mind. But now? She doesn't have to worry about her commanding officers telling her to buzz off, she can spend all the time with them that she wants, if they're willing to put up with her. She's definitely a better influence than Cass, or at least she tries to be, but she knows showing Six how to cheat at poker probably wasn't the best idea. Veronica will also insist that she'll deal with Benny herself, but she knows better than to get in the way of the courier and their revenge.

[couriernix]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Fallout: New Vegas, Fallout (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Craig Boone/Female Courier, Craig Boone/Original Female Character, Female Courier/The King Characters: Craig Boone, Arcade Gannon, Raul Tejada, Lily Bowen, Eddie (Fallout: New Vegas), Rex (Fallout: New Vegas), The King (Fallout: New Vegas), Original Fallout Characters, Female Courier (Fallout: New Vegas), Rose of Sharon Cassidy, Manny Vargas Additional Tags: craig boone/female courier end game, Developing Friendships, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, How Do I Tag, Healing, Friends With Benefits, Canon-Typical Violence, mostly canon i think, first fallout game ive played so what I knows phoenix knows, Amnesiac Courier (Fallout), minor courier / the king, they're the friends with benefits part, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, courier has abandonment issues, Eventual Smut, Found Family, Slow Romance, No Beta, Bisexual Courier (Fallout) Summary:

Her grandma read to her "The Hollow Men" so many times that Phoenix Vida-Jones truly thought that the world would end not with a bang, but with a whimper. Then, she was shot in the head carrying a platinum chip by a tacky city-slicker.

Fortunately for her, she got fixed up with just enough memories to get her by on her quest for revenge. Guess the world doesn't end with a bang. What she wasn't counting on though, is the past she barely remembers coming back to haunt her as she plans to take down Benny and resolve the conflict at the Hoover Dam. Mix that in with her need to people-please and her developing feelings for a mourning sniper, and Nix can barely catch a break.

---- I wrote a singular one-shot titled "Looking Out for Me" and decided to write more. Then, a plot emerged and I found myself planning a story. This'll be a little bit of a "fly-by-my-pants" story, but I need to practice writing and I love the freedom of fanfiction writing. I might include the published one-shot in this story, but it'll be drastically different judging by what I do have planned. Technically though, that story features the same courier.

[chimerabytes]

while I love seeing people ship their couriers with Arcade, Boone, Benny and a few other FONV NPCs... I want to see more love for Raúl!!!!

Physical representation of me every time I see someone who ships their Courier Six with Raúl:

[image id: A photo of a grey tabby cat. Its hind leg is raised as if saluting, showing a black underfoot with black toe beans. /end id]

[rzyraffek]

Fallout characters with shy!reader scared to ask for nuka-cola in bar

(Fallout3 4 and new vegas)(swf) (imagine s/o telling them that they are scared to ask for nukacola and if *insert character* can do it for them)

Fallout New Vegas

Benny:"so you telling me that u went all over mojave just to find me and you are scared to ask bartender for nukacola?" He will tease you for it, and be confused, like??? Curier is so strong and smart why are they so shy??? But Beni boi likes to talk so no problem he can easly talk to people if Coureir cant.

Arcade:"uhh sure?okay?" I feel like He was shy too when he was younger so he can relate. He probably still sometimes stresses before Talking to somone for first time, but its not that bad. He will probably think that Courier is scared of people due to past or something so he wont bring this topic up(even if they are just shy without reason)

Vuples:"if you are too scared to order a drink how are you going bring pride to Legion" if Courier gives him puppy eyes/accualy feel sad, he will loudly sign and order the drink for them. After that he will try to "train them out of this behiviour" (thats vulpes, dont expect anything wholesome) but if it really upsets Courier he will just silently hate it, but wont bring it into conversations

Raul:"yeah sure boss" he had younger sister okay, he knows how to behave like normal human being. He completly understands the idea of being too shy to do something. He will give them good words and support, but if somestuff really stressed them out hes not going to try to convince them. He would feel bad

Boone: "honey please its not that difficult" he will do it if Courier pays him in hugs later. In NCR military theres no people as shy as them. But its good becasue it makes Courier unique. Also how did Courier survive for such long time out in Mojave???(you'll never find out boone >:3)

Ulysses:"bruh you literally bombed whole City wym bestie"(for context when I played his dlc first time my English wasnt the best and I didnt completly understood what Ulysses was saing and I though that Courier bombed the Devide and Ulysses was his ex bf/Ex friend. And I know that Courier didnt really bomb anything but I stick to it because i found it funny lol). I feel like bartender would be spooked and give nukacola for free Just to get rid of Ulysses. He will say stuff like 'theese days you cant act like that, someone will use it aginst you' but thats all, he wont do anything about it really. Tbh he enjoys Courier looking like sad little puppy everytime they have to talk to anyone. (I need to do special post for my first theories/expirience with fnv its very funny)

Joshua:"sure love" this men will buy it in seconds. Hes impressed that after all this stuff Courier been thrue they are still smol shy bean.(but He will try to convert you to join his religon)

Fallout3

Butch:"loozer" he will make fun of Lone but He will order the drink for them. He will be like "soo is my little nerd too spooked to order some drinks??", he has Policy 'i can bully them but anyone else cant😎' so at least they have only one asshole that bullies other assholes

Charon:"okay" this men still has this weird mindset that he has to do everything Lone says to him:((( even if Lone is clearly treating him as normal human being. Give him some time his life was tough. He will probably find it cute that Lone is too shy to ask somone for drink even after all bs they been thrue. They still have this cute vibe from valut(at least thats what Charon says not me)

Fallout4

Paladin Danse:"soldier why you even want to drink that? Its full of sugar" hes more concerned about Sole drinking this fuild sugar than anything. I mean yeah sure He will help them but please drink water. :( (shut up dance nuka-cola good) Danse will find it silly how Sole is ready for anything but asking bartender for drink is too much

Preston:"sure thing babe! You want anything extra or only that?" So casual about that, doesnt even notice that Lone is shy. He notice only if Sole asks him that often. Wont do anything about it really, Lone wants to be shy and ask him for help? Then let be it, he is more than happy to help them out (he is the sweetest)

MacCready:"aww of course sweetie"just like Preston exept that this one is a big simp. And will do anything Sole asks him to do. And he will be very happy that they ask him for help💖💖💖makes him feel special and important

Gage:"uhh??sure okay?? But boss you have to act tought unless you want other gangs to make fun of ya" he finds it cute, but its sometimes annoying(hes lazy). But its not like He has choice here😈 Sole is his boss afterall. He will try to teach Sole how to be less shy but only because he doenst want other gangs to make fun of them lol (I swear gage is just nuka-cola world babysitter)

Mason:"awww bunny, you are afraid of some bartender??awwww" he is going to tease them, but please dont change, he is fulled with pride every time Sole asks him for help. Like from anyone they can ask for help, they choose him? How cute.

Request open!!

[kinkshame-the-courier]

Inspired by a couple of other people doing similar, here’s a relationship chart for Chaye and the companions! (Plus Benny).

Extra charts and rambling under the cut

Chaye and companions:

EDE and Rex:

Chaye generally regards the eyebot and the dog as beloved pet companions, and the two of them regard Chaye as a caretaker. They’re the type to spoil Rex with those fancy raw meat and salmon oil and raw egg meals, and to talk to EDE as though they’re a person— albeit more like a young child than an adult.

Boone: He was one of the first companions that Chaye found and because of this, they ended up going to Bitter Springs with him fairly early in their story. They managed to pull him out of his suicidal haze, though not before he injured his arm. Their stubborn refusal to abandon him deeply strengthened their bond, and that injury later led to Chaye helping him shave his head — he has texture issues when it’s not shaved. They do however struggle with the emotional drain his pessimism has on them.

Veronica:

Their bond with Veronica is mainly over both of their interest in tech, as both of them regularly tinker with EDE and the mechanics of the Lucky 38. They unfortunately can’t handle her high energy for very long unless they’re manic, in which she’s about the only person who can keep up with them.

Cass:

If a hurricane was a relationship, it would be this one. After beating her in a drinking contest, convincing her to sell her caravan, and then helping her take revenge for said caravan, Chaye and Cass have had a rather tumultuous bond. They’re deeply (sexually) attracted to each other and have acted on said attraction several times, but Cass’s general extreme abrasiveness and her tendency to take advantage of their difficulty saying “no” has put a lot of tension between them.

Arcade:

Complicated. So, so complicated. Chaye has deeply rooted insecurities around romance and relationships for many, many reasons, most of which they’re still yet to remember. What impacts them most is their depression and their rejection sensitive dysphoria, and their general regard of Arcade as better than they are, deserving of better than their whole… mess. Of course this doesn’t stop them from hopelessly pining anyway, from caring for him and assigning him the affectionate nickname “dove” behind closed doors. His general hope in humanity and love for science, history and medicine, plus his witty humor are some of many traits that endear him to them. I could write ten paragraphs on their relationship but I’ll try to keep it smaller here. They’re close friends and their bond only grows as Chaye remembers their past (and figures out that they’re autistic like he is).

Benny:

Also complicated. The same issues of inadequacy plague Chaye about their feelings for him, as well as… confliction about what he did to them and his reasons why, his regret for the act. They initially were going to kill him by taking the black widow route, but ended up getting attached. Instead of him escaping to Fort Hill, they dragged him to House and offered to activate the securitron bunker in exchange for being allowed to keep Benny. House agreed… though Chaye killed him about two weeks after that. They’ve generally forgiven Benny, due to his plan and his decisions being out of desperation to keep the Geckos afloat and free the Mojave from its impending doom, especially once figuring out that he’s… not very much of a threat without his power. He’s kinda likeable, really, under all those layers of sexually charged snarkiness that he uses as a self defense.

Raúl:

They initially struck up a bond because Chaye speaks fluent Spanish and has as long as they can remember… or… well. Sometime in their past they must have been raised on the language, and the old ghoul was delighted to find another person who still spoke the dying dialect. Later on their relationship shifted to a slightly more grandparent/grandchild sort of thing, especially as Chaye eagerly learned recipes and stories about Mexico’s glory days from him.

Lily:

Ever since the old nightkin mistook Chaye for her beloved Jimmy, well. They can’t help but feel affection for her, sympathy for her, not having any memories of their own family themself. Her rare moments of clarity always leave a hollow ache in their chest, even as grateful as they are for when she recognizes their face and their name. She’s one of the only people who can calm them when they’re truly angry, especially considering she is the only one whose strength rivals theirs.

I don’t have any particular comments atm about the relationships between companions that the chart doesn’t explain, though I’m sure I’ll elaborate on another post.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

What would raul do if the courier (or anyone else traveling with him) were to wear his old mechanic outfit after he begins wearing his vaquero costume?

A Week's Vacation in Goodsprings, Nevada

Pairing: Raul Tejada x Reader

Word Count: 9,926

Warnings: smut (18+), some fluff, hand jobs, groping, mutual pining, ruminations on ghoul impotence, Raul's inability to fully relax (ever), mild mentions of blood and wounds

Notes: Obligatory apologies for the wait, as I started and first mentioned this what feels like a million years ago. But, like I've said before, I refuse to force things when they aren't coming naturally. Please enjoy, Raul lovers especially. I know the pool of content for everyone's favorite vaquero is shallow, so I thought I'd contribute a little something myself.

Reader can be Courier Six if you like, but doesn't have to be.

Goodsprings, a little hovel just a stone's throw outside the hungry shadow of New Vegas, was not an especially interesting town. In days long gone by, it might've been an interesting pit stop, a place to stretch your legs and snap a photo or two on your way along the wide-stretching interstate system. Now it was nothing but a cluster of mostly abandoned buildings and a tiny community of folks struggling to get by, one of so many. Well, them and a whole score of scraggly coyotes. As the specter of nuclear holocaust had begun to fade away into unpleasant memories over the decades following the Great War, some places had slowly, painstakingly reclaimed some small nugget of life, revived their spirits enough to be worthy of recording in the new histories; Goodsprings was not one of these places.

It was a rough day to be out and about. The heat was searing, making the relatively short walk back from the town proper (what little of it there was) to the monument on the horizon feel punishingly long, your gate still a bit awkward as you continued to heal. For several days, you and the sharp-shooting mechanic who kept you company had been bedded up in the abandoned shack on the safer edge of the fairly unsafe territory, an unplanned recess that had wound up much more pleasant that you'd initially anticipated. Normally, you only stayed in the same location a night or two, always on the move to a new place, pursuing a new way to put a little money in your pocket and some food in your belly, but your roaming had been been interrupted when you'd were injured in a skirmish with some Powder Gangers.

It had been your own fault; Raul had strongly advised that the two of you not pass so close to the old prison on your way towards the little village's saloon, but you'd insisted you could eke it out without attracting any attention, impatient to settle down for the evening. You'd been mostly right, but still came out of the decision with a rifle round lodged in your leg.

Better this than get it blown off with some of that dynamite they like so much, you'd joked in an attempt to cut the tension as he helped you over the hill to Doc Mitchell's. Raul, however, hadn't found it funny in the slightest, clearly quite worried as he quickly decided that carrying you was the better option. You garnered a couple of stares as you cut straight through the scant cluster of buildings, though less than you might've, owing to the late hour. The doctor, fortunately, was easy to rouse from sleep and even easier to apologize to, nothing but concern and lingering grogginess painted across his softly aged features as he ran his eyes over the bloody wound, slicing your pant leg up to the hip with a pair of sharp scissors. Your companion had lingered silently in the corner of the exam room, watching as the other man patched you up, looking away when you'd tried to make eye contact with him. His own shoulder seemed injured, a blooming patch of blood far too high to be your own soaking into the overcoat he wore, but he didn't acknowledge it.

It had taken the contents of two doctor's bags and several stitches to stymie the crimson leak that continually ran from the hole in your leg, the pain fairly substantial when the bullet was extracted; the Doc had offered you something for the pain almost as soon as you'd arrived, but it was slow to kick in compared to how quickly his skilled hands moved. The only times Raul seemed willing to look directly at you were the moments when you couldn't hold back and cried out, but in those moments, the pain and worry in his own gaze was too much, and you squeezed your eyes shut so you wouldn't have to see it.

After about an hour, your leg was significantly improved, the stimpack you'd been given pushing the thing along on its way to healing. Still, he'd elected to bandage it and gave you a pair of crutches to encourage you to keep weight off of that side for a few days, pointing you to a few places in town where you could lay your heads for a bit. He'd rather apologetically stapled your pant leg back together as best as he could, knowing how much a good pair of pants could mean to someone, but you held no resentment towards him, grateful for his assistance. The pants could be cleaned (somewhat) and repaired.

As the two of you made your way towards the exit, Raul watched you closely as you struggled to master walking with the unfamiliar mobility aids, Doc Mitchell studying your gait from the side for the same reasons.

"Alright, you seem to be doing fine, but mind all the rocks and the cracks in the road. Could be a nasty spill." the doctor said when you reached the front door and turned back towards him, his eyes studying the two of you. "Sir, I could take a look at that shoulder for you, if you need."

Your companion stood a hair taller at being directly addressed, and you smiled comfortingly at him.

"No thanks, doc. It'll be healed by morning anyway." was all he said before pushing the door open in front of you to help you outside.

Though you'd suggested a place further out of town, knowing Raul wouldn't want to bed down too closely to everyone else, he refused to allow you to walk further than absolutely necessary, helping you up the short hill to the gas station and settling you in among the crumbling shelves. While he checked around the place, you dug your bedroll out of your bag and managed to re-jig onto it, much more comfortable as you took in your surroundings. There was tense silence between the two of you, and you felt somewhat like a child waiting for chastisement. However, none came.

When he finally seemed satisfied that the place wasn't rigged to explode or anything, he leaned against the counter and dug around in his bag, pulling a few different things from it before finally turning to approach you. He held a folded mass of greenish cloth out to you, which you strained to recognize as his old mechanic's jumpsuit in the dark, the dirty white Petro-Chico logo almost seeming to glow.

"Better than half a pair of pants with a buncha staples in it." he said, his tone hard to interpret.

"Thank you." you replied quietly, accepting his offering and laying it in your lap.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked, eyeballing your leg.

"No, I feel fine now. Just tired and kinda tender."

Your attempt at reassurance didn't seem to accomplish much, as he simply nodded and proceeded to take up a spot near the door, shucking part of his shirt and jacket to bandage his shoulder. You felt a brief moment of confused annoyance as you could see his wound was worse than you'd initially thought, but it didn't take long for you to parse out why he might not be amenable to accepting care from a non-ghoulified person he'd never met before.

As he set to working, he turned his back fully towards you. Initially it stung, feeling like a rejection, but then you realized he was giving you privacy, waiting for you to change out of your pants. The task was tough alone, and you were more than once tempted to ask him for assistance, but decided against it for fear of making him uncomfortable. Eventually, you managed to wrestle your way into the thing, your curves somewhat making up for the length you couldn't quite fill out, the rest solved with some rudimentary cuffing. When you finished, you settled back onto the floor, studying your traveling companion's posture as he readjusted his seat to face the door.

It wasn't an unfamiliar habit; he spent the majority of nights posted up by the entryway when you camped out in unsecured places like this, occupying the silent hours that passed while you slept with little repairs, polishing your guns, whittling small carvings, all while keeping one eye out. You'd never seen him sleep.

There was never a moment when Raul didn't seem a bit on-edge. Sure, there were nights where things felt easier, where you could convince him to step away from his post and settle in with you just a little. You'd have a drink or two, play some cards, swap stories; you loved seeing his playful, more confident side come out, unhindered by his frequent self-effacement. Once or twice, more recently, you'd swapped a few kisses, though that kind of small physical gesture had been a long time coming. The memory made you smile, though it quickly faded from your face as you took in his rigid spine, the way the smallest noise seemed to grab his attention. Teetering closer and closer to sleep, the analgesic you'd been given wrapping your brain in a heavy fog, the iron tang of remorse in your mouth was the last sensation you took in before giving yourself over to unconsciousness.

The sun had barely begun to peek in through the holes in the roof when you awoke again, groggy and sore. You struggled to sit up, grasping around blindly for one of your crutches as your leg and bladder pestered you in an annoying duet.

"Need help, boss?" a familiar voice came from the corner.

"Nah, I got it." you reassured, managing to pull yourself to your feet without humiliation. Making your way around the old counter top, you took in the sight of him, his old coat splayed out in his lap as he worked away at the bullet hole in the lapel with an old needle and some thread.

"Your poor jacket's already been through quite a bit." you noted as you moved close enough that your bodies nearly touched. You bent a little to allow your fingers to run along several other patched-up holes and re-done seams that decorated the thing.

"Did your pants, too. They're hanging up over there." he said, gesturing towards one of the other shelves with his chin as his hands continued to work. "They're wet; cleaned them as best as I could. For people who keep bighorners around, they sure don't have much open water here."

You smirked at the image in your mind of him creeping around Goodsprings in the middle of the night, seeking out an open trough to do a little laundry in.

"Thanks." you said earnestly, shuffling your weight a bit between the crutches and your good leg. "Could you hop up? I gotta go to the bathroom."

He didn't offer more assistance as you passed by, holding the door for you instead, but you could tell he was tempted. Instead, he waited outside for you to finish up, helping you up the little stoop back into the building when you came back around the corner. You could feel his eyes on your back (maybe your backside) as you hobbled along; if things had been a tad less awkward, you'd have cracked a joke, asked him how he liked the look of it on you.

Flirted a little.

"So, how's it feeling?" he asked, helping you lower yourself into the chair he'd been using.

"It's sore, but not terrible or anything. How's your shoulder?"

"Fine, boss. It was just a through and through, so it's basically gone already." he answered, not pulling away as you leaned in close to try and inspect the area. Granted, you couldn't see much through his clothing, but it felt nice to be so near him, the air between the two of you much less heavy than it had been the night before. However, you knew that both of you could feel the slight discomfort that lingered.

"Think you could stand a little move? Not sure this is the best place to sleep another night." he followed up, his voice tinted with unease as he leaned against the old sales counter.

Casting another glance around, your brain ran a bit faster trying to determine exactly which factor about the place had made him come to that conclusion. True, he didn't usually like to spend too much time in settlements where no other people like him lived, but the folks of Goodsprings were by and large accepting of or indifferent to ghouls. Perhaps the shoddy roof of the place made him uneasy. You knew there were also cazador nests somewhere near town, one of the reasons the journey from there to Vegas often took most people so long, despite how physically close the two places were. Maybe he'd seen signs of them and gotten spooked. The idea of relocating somewhere a little more comfortable certainly didn't bother you. Besides, you didn't feel like dealing with the flying blights, either.

"I can handle that. We can check out a place I know on the other end of town." you agreed, rising carefully and moving towards your makeshift bed to gather it up. "I can walk there, though."

With your back turned, you missed the way he shook his head in silent disagreement.

It was slow going along the patchy, sometimes rudimentary road. Raul kept to your side, afraid you'd fall at any moment, both of your bags draped across his back. The pair of you cut behind Trudy's place to avoid drawing too much attention, the sun moving higher in the sky and the town beginning to show what little signs of life it could produce. Things were uneventful, save for one or two bark scorpions that scuttled by. As you passed the big hill the cemetery sat upon, the terrain became a lot looser, rockier, and the man beside you paused to look at you as the grade began to decline.

"I can still walk." you insisted, passing him as you began to descend the small decline into the shallow gully behind the saloon. He didn't stop you, but kept a hand on your elbow the entire time, ready to snatch you up if needed. The coyotes that seemed to run this part of the Mojave watched you from a silent distance.

You hadn't been technically incorrect; you were able to walk fairly unencumbered, but you'd vastly underestimated how strenuous doing so on crutches would be on the terrain, how quickly you'd tire. Trying your best to keep your breathing steady, you could feel yourself breaking a fairly substantial sweat as the air around you continued to warm. The hard upper padding of the crutches also dug painfully into your underarms, but the more you tried to hold yourself up off of them, the harder properly walking was. You could see the massive cross on the horizon, though, only a few dozen yards ahead, and you tucked your chin and tried to tough it out.

However, after only another minute or two, you had to stop for just a moment, panting heavily as you wiped your face on the jumpsuit's sleeve.

"Boss, just lemme carry you." Raul insisted.

"It's fine! It's right there. I can make it." you said, pointing towards the rickety little building that hugged the rocks near the base of the looming statue. However, he paid no mind to your protests, stooping low for a split second to scoop you up into his arms.

"Raul! Your shoulder!" you protested, scrambling to balance yourself as he re-jigged you in his grip until you were cradled securely.

"It's fine! It's right there!" he smirked slyly, making quick work of closing the gap between you and the ramshackle place. Too exhausted to fight back much more, you settled, clinging to him lightly and blushing at how strong he was. Soon, you were passing by the eerie monument, many of the names that had once been inscribed into it impossible to read now. Its long shadow, however, was welcome, providing some relief from the already rather scorching heat in its darkness.

He sat you down on your feet to check inside the place, not unwise since it was a known pit stop for some, but seemed satisfied with what he'd seen. You waited patiently to the side, assuming he'd hold the door open for you when he was done, but instead he grabbed you back up, sending you squealing in surprised glee as he carried you over the threshold and into the dim little room. Feeling emboldened, though sweaty, you clung to him a bit when he sat you down once more, smiling up at him.

"You're sweet." you said, studying his face as he stared back at you with those milky eyes of his.

"I try." he replied jokingly, letting his hand linger for a split second on your hip before letting it fall back to his side.

For a beat, there was silence between you, almost comfortable, but not quite.

"I'm sorry." you blurted suddenly, unable to hold it in anymore. "About last night. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Eh, you know me, boss. I'm just a worrier. Glad you're okay, though." he shrugged in reply, his face not moving enough for you to read it.

"Still, I don't wanna worry you more. I trust you to keep me safe. Next time I'll listen to you."

He laughed in response to that, but there was no humor in it. It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but couldn't. You didn't press.

After that, the both of you set to looking the place over a little closer, testing the sink and toilet in the corner to see if they still worked (blessedly, they did, as much as anything worked, at least), righting the overturned table in the middle of the room. The fire that usually burned in the barrel against the wall had long grown cold, a good sign that no one had been utilizing the place recently. That gave you enough confidence to unpack a bit, pull your boots off and slouch onto the discolored cream couch beside the old reloading bench, the crutches leaned against the table. Your painkiller had long worn off, and your still-healing leg throbbed.

You'd intended to sleep here one more night before setting back out to finish your business; after all, the only reason you'd dragged yourself out this far was to deliver something you'd come across for Trudy, some desperately wanted parts for her beloved radio that she'd pay pretty generously for. However, the longer you rested, the better the place seemed, and eventually you figured that a few days off wouldn't kill you, especially if you wanted your wound to heal properly.

You both rested a while, Raul excusing himself outside once or twice to check the outer perimeter of the place. Curled up on the sofa with a scavenged book, you eventually began to eyeball the bed near the door. Generally, you slept on the floor in temporary shelters like this, burned one too many times by contaminated, dirty mattresses across the Mojave. However, a longer duration of stay than usual gave you plenty of time to inspect the thing for anything crawling or seeping. Plus, you truly did want Raul to join you if you could make it happen, and you felt bad at the idea of making him get down on the floor with the way his knees and back often bothered him. When you didn't find anything blatantly offensive, you unzipped your bedroll all the way, laid it out over the whole thing, and crawled under the dirty improvised blanket you kept tucked up inside for a long nap.

The next several days passed nice and slow, full of time spent occupying yourselves and one another. For the first night or two, Raul couldn't be pulled away from his post near the door, but he was conversational, at least; your apology had seemed to resonate with him well enough despite his strange reaction to it. However, after that, he started to open up more and more to the idea of taking some genuine leisure time with you, moments of closeness you found yourself increasingly wanting for. One night, you played Caravan until some obscene hour, cracking jokes and trying to outdo one another's snark. The next, you taught him a few word games you'd learned as a child, and he'd taught you some card game you highly suspected he was making up on the spot.

The night after that was almost unbearably stuffy inside, so bad that you opted to extinguish the fire you'd re-lit and use a lantern instead. Still, the inside of the small cabin was oppressively hot, so you propped the door open and sat outside on the rickety stoop, hip-to-hip, sharing a sarsaparilla and looking up at the stars as you waited for the place to cool. Seizing the moment when it felt right, you kissed him again, and he let you easily, his hand clasping yours as you traded pecks. You'd almost asked him to join you in the bed that night, but you were afraid it would come across as too forward, so you held your tongue, watching him fiddle with things at the reloading bench as you drifted off alone. In your inky unconsciousness, you dreamt of him splayed out across that awful off-white couch, lying flat as you rode him. You swore you could still feel his hands on your breasts when you awoke, and it made it hard to look directly at him, your cheeks burning.

The next day, you felt well enough to walk into town and deliver the parts to Trudy, who asked you about your interesting arrival a few days prior. Word sure did spread fast when only a dozen or so people lived in a place. You showed her your newest battle wound, hiking the looser leg of the jumpsuit you still wore most days up high so she could see. She'd given a low whistle in response, half-joking that next time they may have better aim. She'd still been grateful for the parts, and the amount of caps she'd paid you almost made the bullet in the leg worth it.

When you'd left the saloon, you'd turned back west and climbed the small slope up to Doc Mitchell's, dragging along the blasted crutches. You'd been finished with them for days, and you wanted to return them, hoping someone else could get some use out of them the next time he had an emergency on his hands. He, too, had been grateful, offering to check you over before you left.

"I'm glad it's looking better." he'd said as he'd walked you to the front door when he'd finished. "By the way, how's your friend's shoulder?"

"It's fine now." you replied. "Advanced healing and all that, y'know. Sorry he was sort of cold to you. He's had bad experiences in the past."

"I understand that. People can be so cruel to folks they don't understand. But please tell him that next time he needs help, if he's in the area, that he can always come here. Far as I understand, ghoulification doesn't stop bleeding out."

You nodded, smiling warmly at the kind older man.

"I'll tell him, Doc. Thanks again." you said, making your way out the door.

With that, you set yourself on the path back to the old abandoned shack, all those four-legged eyes watching you from the hills as you made your way up the short incline at the far end of the road. Just as you crested the small peak at the foot of the old Yangtze memorial, a single shot rang out, and you kicked your speed up double-time in concern, your thigh protesting immediately. However, when you made your way to where Raul stood, you found him re-holstering his gun smoothly, his entire demeanor quite calm.

"Just a radscorpion. Not even a big one." he said as he turned to you.

"Oh, good." you responded, stopping to massage your pink, still-raised scar. You didn't mention that sometimes there were big ones in the area; they weren't the worst things in the world to dispatch if you had help, so you kept that little bit of knowledge to yourself.

That evening was especially quiet, Raul working away at some sort of gun modification he'd been experimenting with over your last few trips. You curled up at the end of the couch nearest the bench, watching him quietly, attentively. Lovingly. All the time alone, not focused on covering as much road as possible or watching your backs, had made you realize how much you truly cared for him, wanted to be even closer.

You really wanted tonight to be the night.

It felt a little embarrassing to feel as nervous as you did to broach the subject, the problem only growing as the hour grew later and later. Settled deep into your spot, you gave a little yawn at one point just as the place had begun to cool, no more sunlight filtering in through the tiny cracks in the walls. He smirked at you in silent reply, looking over at you from his task for a quick moment. It made you roll your eyes playfully; he got far too much satisfaction out of teasing you when you got sleepy.

Keeping your head high, you pulled yourself up to your feet and moved closer to the center of the room, allowing for the space you needed to do your nightly stretches. Being ready to run or fight at any moment without strain had saved your life more than once, so it was a habit that had stuck firmly. You'd been limited in what felt safe to do without aggravating your leg for a few days, so now that things felt nearly back to normal, there was a tightness lingering in your muscles that was usually only there after a long, long day of hiking through the heat. It lent to longer, deeper stretches, reaching towards the floor as you stood bent over at the waist.

Raul enjoyed your stretches as much as you did. More, if the feeling of his eyes burning into you as you went about each form was anything to go by. The pair of you exchanged a few jokes, quips about the day as you finished up readying yourself for sleep, peeling out of your boots and sweeping your hair up and away from your face. By the time you sat on the lip of the rusty frame, the individual springs easy to feel through the thin padding of the mattress, you were nervous he'd pick up on the strange vibe, trying your best to steel yourself.

For the briefest moment, you nearly chickened out, tucking yourself beneath your thin blanket and curling up on your side facing him, ready to close your eyes and drift off dissatisfied. But you concentrated, tracing your gaze over his lean, broad-shouldered frame from the back, the only bit of him you could see as he continued to stoop over the wooden desk, movements soft and quiet. You took a steadying breath, drawing in deep the familiar smell of machine grease, old books, and gunpowder that followed the older ghoul.

"Come cuddle with me a while, eh, handsome?" you called, trying your best to not sound timid.

Pausing, he turned his whole chair most of the way to look at you, the glint in his eyes tough to decipher. You were only a bit surprised when he actually gave in and rose from the little table, stretching a somewhat dramatic arc into his obviously protesting back and shrugging the rather dirty overcoat from his shoulders. Smiling as he made his way closer, you scooted a little closer to the wall, taking advantage of what little extra space the full-sized mattress allowed to make room for him. It was clear his long-lived body was stiff as he maneuvered himself in beside you, but he continued to move closer until your knees were touching. Your heart raced at his new proximity. The improvised pillow you were using, crafted out of your wadded up jacket, wasn't big enough to share, so he propped his head up slightly on his hand.

Briefly, you simply soaked in the new feeling of being all snuggled up like this, both quiet and sneaking little smirking glances at one another. Your eyelids, however, continued to grow heavy.

"Whatcha think about heading out tomorrow, maybe some time before it gets too hot?" you asked eventually, allowing yourself the indulgence of running your hand softly across his chest, grasping for something to say.

"Sounds good to me, boss." he responded, smiling contently.

You wanted to say more, to scoot a little closer to him and see if he felt comfortable sharing a kiss or two, but the room had grown so dark that it was almost hard to make out the details of him, even as close as he was, and it made it nearly impossible to keep your eyes open. When they rested, you fought hard to remain awake, listening to all the little sounds around you and studying his slight movements. Such effort proved useless quickly, as it was a losing battle.

It was tough to tell how long you'd been sleeping when your eyes popped open again a while later, but you were pleasantly surprised to feel Raul still behind you, figuring he would have returned to his seat at the reloading bench after you drifted off.

"Are you asleep?" you whispered, quiet but playful, completely expecting the response that came from behind you just a second later.

"Nah. Are you?"

That earned a chuckle from you, and the sound made him smile behind you.

"Kinda figured you'd have gone back to your chair since I so rudely interrupted what you were doing earlier."

He laughed again, softer, at that.

"I'm pretty comfy here, boss." he murmured, the 'boss' tacked on at the end after just a moment too long, like he'd forgotten it. You turned your head back his way, ready to tell him that he didn't have to call you that anymore, something you'd informed him of previously. However, before you could speak, you were interrupted by the surprise of him actually pulling you a little closer, your chest flush against his own and his arm around your waist.

Caught off-guard, you stared up at him quietly for a few moments, his own gaze reflected back at you, but with a shaky edge that felt like he, too, might look away at any moment. Feeling a heat creeping up your neck and into your cheeks before hiding your face under his chin, you planted a couple of soft, fairly chaste kisses there. Your desire to show him affection didn't mean you needed to be pushy, and you tried your best to be mindful of that.

"I'm glad you're comfy." you replied, just to have something to say, anything to distract you from the heat you felt building in your gut at how close he was holding you. It had already felt like quite a big deal when he'd become comfortable enough to let you kiss him sometimes, so him initiating this much contact seemed significant. Nevertheless, you didn't want to press your luck.

Trying your best to go back to sleep, you flipped onto your other side so the two of you were in a proper spooning position, facing the wall. You placed your right hand over his where it rested near your navel, softly stroking the back of his scarred palm as you settled back onto the folded jacket. Things were quiet once more, what would have been a comfortable silence if you could think about anything other than the feeling of his warm, firm body behind you, the way he was holding you so close like it was the most natural thing in the world.

A minute or two passed, nothing but the sound of sand scratching by the old worn metal door with the breeze and the occasional creak of the shack's half-circle frame, his lone hand playing absentmindedly along your waistline through the jumpsuit. The heavy material of the thing made you feel increasingly warm as his hand continued along its set path. Despite your efforts, the excitement you felt at his closeness was too great to overcome, and sleep evaded you.

"If you ever need it back, just ask. I may lend it to you." you joked, one eye sliding open to peek at him. "It's pretty useful."

He smiled down at you, propped up a bit higher on his shoulder as the arm he laid on began to pet gently at the ends of your hair. His response took a moment longer than you were anticipating, but you kept silent, a reaction that continued in surprise when he replied, humming:

"Eh, it looks better on you anyway. I might like to take it off you, but you can keep it."

After a blink or two of frozen excitement, you turned your head as you giggled at his bawdy words, a bit surprised at his boldness and hiding the resulting flush in your cheeks against the filthy mattress. Raul also chuckled at his own quip, though only for a moment, the sound dying down as he softly pressed his lips to the exposed side of your throat.

You tried your best to not freeze up, hoping to not accidentally come across as uncomfortable in your genuine shock at the further initiation from him. Seemingly, you succeeded, as he placed a further line of kisses from the spot on your neck that made you squirm to below your ear. You swallowed back a groan, though barely, goosebumps raising sharply all over your body. Unfortunately, you weren't lucky enough to pull it off twice; the gentle scratch of his scant facial hair inside the crook of your neck tickled in just the right way, and the resulting sound that broke free from your slightly parched throat was downright unseemly.

"Sorry." you muttered, embarrassed at your lack of control. But when you moved to pull yourself away a bit, to give him a few inches of space where you weren't imposing yourself on him, his arm actually caged you in, the other slipping beneath you, holding you gently in place; you could've detached if you continued to try, but his embrace made it clear that he didn't want you to go anywhere.

"Don't be." he replied, his lingering hand flattening against your belly and slowly, slowly sliding upwards, following the middle seam of the jumpsuit. You held still, letting him touch you how he wanted, nervous you'd frighten him away with the wrong response. Carefully, his palm smoothed up your rib cage until it met the underside curve of your breast, hesitating before brushing against it softly.

"This okay?" he asked quietly, and you nodded clearly in response, tongue already tied into a fat knot as your heart raced.

Carefully, you let your left hand move up to rest on top of his, cupping it and pressing it closer to you, allowing you both a more substantial feel. He hummed, low and deep in his throat, in response. For a few minutes, he groped around your chest gently, carefully exploring how his touches would make you react. The hand that sat tucked beneath your body wriggled its way out the front, giving the other side near-equal attention. You couldn't feel that much through the multiple layers of clothing you wore, but the pressure against your sensitive nipples made them stiffen eagerly, his increasingly heavy breathing tickling in your ear and zapping down your spine in a way that set you to quickly wriggling against him, seeking out more stimulation. It was the only sound you could hear besides the occasional crackle of the once-more burning fire.

Things briefly paused again when his fingers moved up even further, grasping at the zipper that sat at the base of your throat. You shuddered as you repeated your move from before, wondering just how far he was going to take things as both of you worked the metallic fastener down. Letting him lead, the thing was tugged down to your waist, your well-worn undershirt exposed.

He seemed to be gaining courage as things ticked along, not waiting for you to guide his hand inside the now unzipped suit, tracing over your chest, squeezing experimentally at the mass of your breast. It was your own turn to hum pleasantly, arching your back to press your chest closer against his hand, your rear closer against his body until they were lightly touching. Time sort of faded into the background as you moved closer and closer, his touch eventually making its way beneath the hem of your shirt. Like when he'd first touched you, he faltered a bit, lingering along the warm, soft skin of your stomach, hesitant to dive too deep. Tucking your lower lip between your teeth to distract yourself, you let the curve of your ass rub against him, ever-so-slightly grazing him as you moved your hips back and forth.

That bit of motion seemed to ease whatever uncertainties he was feeling in that moment, as he ran both hands fully over your ratty brassiere, slipping them beneath the band to gently, gently peel the thing up. A shudder ran up your spine at both the sensation of the momentary pinch at your nipples and the growing chill in the room. You let out a quiet, truncated moan, however, when you felt him touch your bare chest for the first time, one hand cupping each breast. He was still behind you, his hands barely moving at first, almost like he was studying the feeling of them; it made you want to giggle, but you held back, trying to match his placidity.

The patience you'd forced out of yourself was soon rewarded, as he began to gently knead at the flesh beneath his palms, letting his fingers start to gently pinch at your nipples when you sighed in pleasure. He teased you a bit, alternating the pressure of between a very light touch and a firm tweak, the latter of which sent your hips bucking back firmly into his. Though it felt like it should have been impossible at that point, your face heated up even further and you instinctively tried to pull away, but before your apology could fully form in your throat, his left hand quickly moved down to grasp your hip, keeping you pulled flush against him.

Though it was slight, almost undetectable through the haze, his hips were undulating back against your ass.

The hand that remained up your shirt had stopped moving, his mind seemingly drawn to other points on your body. His lips returned to the side of your throat, this time choosing a spot beneath your ear and latching on, sucking and delicately brushing his tongue along what he could hold in his mouth, while his other hand continued to grip your hip, firm but not hard. Quickly, those fingers were on the move again, jumping up to your navel to grip the tongue of the zipper once more, pulling it down the rest of the way.

The more he gave you, the less you tried to move against him, convinced that any wrong step or sound would convince him that he was doing something improper, that you didn't want this, need this as badly as you did. You let plenty of small noises slip, though, wanting to encourage him; his name rolled right off your tongue when he reached back into the jumpsuit, nimble fingers gently tracing down your bare thigh. He must've been rather taken in by the sound of it, burying his face into your hair affectionately as he let the back of his hand trace along your still-clothed mound.

"Oh." you sighed as he gently pressed against your swollen, aching clit through your damp underwear. The sound drew out a sigh of his own, and he tucked his face against your neck, pressing his lips to your nape as he softly stimulated you. Off in the near distance, a coyote call split the air, mixing in with the sounds of snapping flames and harsh breaths.

It genuinely surprised you when he hooked his thumb into the band, slyly sliding his hand all the way into your panties. His movements no longer held that hesitant edge, replaced with a certain calculatedness. Gasping, you instantly set to attempting to fuck yourself on his hand, your entire pelvis rocking and dipping in an attempt to better find his fingers, to place them where you wanted them. However, he was persistent and still much stronger than you, carefully holding you still by placing a little bit of his weight onto your hip, nuzzling your cheek in an attempt to mollify you.

Your efforts to remain quiet were quickly degrading, huffs and quiet whimpers punctuating the increasing amount of wriggling you were doing against him. He certainly didn't seem to mind, continuing to rut rhythmically against your backside. Pushing back against him more firmly, you could somewhat feel the shape of him tucked into the cleft of your ass, though not as clearly as you'd expected. Fleetingly, you wondered if being a few centuries old and plied with radiation made it difficult to get it up, but you decided it didn't matter as long as he kept doing what he was doing with his hands, another sharp sigh leaving your parched mouth.

His thumb strummed easily at your clit, the rough pad deliciously stimulating as his other fingers gently explored the rest of your sex. Occasionally, one or two would swipe down to feel around your entrance, but they never pushed inside, providing a teasing pressure all too close to where you wanted it most. The way he moved against you indicated a fair amount of prior experience, but the way he hesitated slightly as he did so showed a lack of confidence nonetheless. If you'd had enough blood feeding your brain, you might've pondered how long it had been since he'd been with someone, who that someone might've been; instead, all you could wonder was how much longer you'd be able to hold out.

It turns out, the answer was "not long" as a few more kisses and light licks along your nape were more than enough to make your gut flutter.

"Raul...fuck, I'm gonna cum." you groaned throatily, your words fighting their way through the growing haze of your impending orgasm.

The man behind you huffed out his response in a rushed, airy tone, but the words were in choked-up Spanish, and you couldn't understand them. His strokes to your swollen peak didn't falter, however, maintaining that same pace and rhythm perfectly as he forced you all the way over the edge. Your entire core clenched almost painfully tight as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over you, your thighs clasping possessively around the old vaquero's hand as you rubbed against it, drawing out your high as long as possible. He was groaning lowly, his face buried deep into your hair as he continued to grind against you. The grip he'd maintained around your breast with his other palm tightened absentmindedly, and the added sensation drew a sharp cry from you that reverberated through the whole shack.

A moment later, there came a scraping sound against one of the outer walls, somewhat near the door, and everything seemed to freeze.

Raul's touch disappeared from your body, pulling himself away and upright so quickly you barely saw it. As he stared down the junky door intensely, one hand rested on his hip, lying in wait right atop the pistol you hadn't realized he'd still been wearing. Every hair on your body stood on end as you tried your best to reorient yourself, your companion's sudden change in demeanor alarming. However, several long seconds passed with no additional sound other than the pounding of your racing pulse against your temples.

Slowly, with the grace and tension of a great cat about to strike, he rose from the side of the bed and silently made his way to the door, casting a quick glance at you as he cracked the thin door open, peeking outside. Without a word, he slipped out into the dark, and you held your breath, listening close. His steps tracked about halfway towards the nearby memorial monument and he suddenly grunted something out, his tone making everything suddenly feel much less urgent. Every muscle in your body finally began to relax as he reappeared after a moment, giving you a reassuring nod as he shut the thing firmly behind him once more.

"Just one of those coyotes." he told you, though something in his tone left room for doubt. Whether that doubt was merited, you supposed time could only tell.

"I can't believe how much those things breed around here. I saw maybe ten just walking back from Doc's today. That's, like, a couple hundred yard walk. Is there even enough food for them all?"

"Eh, coyotes are scavengers. They'll eat whatever they gotta." he shrugged as he resumed his place on the bed, sitting tall beside you. "Don't worry, though. I won't let them munch on you."

You smirked at his somewhat playful tone, cuddling up just a bit closer to him as you sat up halfway, balanced on your hip and elbow. For a moment or two, things fell silent, though most of the tension that had filled the tiny place before had gone, replaced with familiar warmth tinged with awkwardness. Hesitating a moment, you placed your hand on his knee where it sat curled on the bed, wriggling preemptive embarrassment in your core making goosebumps bloom across your arms.

"Are you gonna think I'm incredibly lame if I ask if you, uh...?" you stammered, unable to quite force the whole question out.

"Nah. Ask me whatever." he smirked, seeming almost relaxed, but not quite. "And no, but that was still nice."

"It sure was." you smiled back, your tone soft as your cheeks warmed a bit, eyes dropping to the bed. A twinge of guilt stung behind your breast at the thought that you hadn't really done anything for him, but he seemed content. He didn't say anything for a beat, studying your face, your swollen lips and increasingly heavy eyelids. Carefully, he reached out and laid his palm against your cheek, those agile fingers lightly stroking your cheekbone. Studying you closely, his words were quiet when he spoke again.

"You should probably get some rest. Didn't you say something about heading out tomorrow?" he asked.

"I guess I did." you replied, settling back down under the thin blanket, a tingle running up your spine as your blood continued to run hotter than usual. You left enough room to your side for him to lie back down, but, to your chagrin, he didn't, instead scooting closer until your bodies touched once more. Swallowing back your protests, unwilling to be greedy, you balled your "pillow" up beneath your head once more and closed your eyes. However, you did allow yourself the indulgence of resting your hand back on his knee, a move he didn't protest. As you began to drift off into a shockingly exhausted sleep, you thought you felt him petting softly at your loose hair.

The air in the little shack was cool and crisp the next morning, the tip of your nose cold against your palms as you smoothed them over your face. The fresh scar that adorned your leg ached in protest at the low temperature, and you rubbed at it for a moment, pulling yourself into a sitting position on the edge of the creaky bed.

"Morning, boss."

You cast your glance into the corner where the rough voice had come from to find the older man back in his usual chair, though he sat turned away from the reloading bench he was usually bent over, clearly using the old holes in the siding of the building to keep watch once again, clearly shaken by the previous night's minute events. A small lump of disappointment formed deep in your stomach at the sight; though you understood he was likely in fine overall health thanks to the incredible healing ability that came with ghoulification, you still worried for him and what the constant state of hypervigilance he seemed to live in could do to him.

The knowledge that he was worried about you and your safety, specifically, only made you feel worse. You didn't consider yourself to be that fast-and-loose with your decision making, rather partial to living, but all the care and caution in the world couldn't change the face that the Mojave was simply a dangerous place. Raul, more than anyone you'd ever met, knew how much peril and uncertainty lurked around each corner, how easy it was to lose those who meant the most to you in the blink of an eye. As much as you wanted to reassure him that he didn't need to worry about you so much, beg him to let his guard down for a moment, you knew that you'd be both cruel and a liar to do so.

"Morning, baby." you replied, swallowing back the guilty lump in your throat and dropping the shiny new pet name into the conversation as if it were nothing. A correction without a correction.

As you moved to pull the scant blanket from your lap, you noticed his overcoat tucked in among the folds of it, nestled in where he must've laid it over you.

"Got cold last night." he said, eyeing you boldly as you pulled yourself to your feet and set to righting your clothes. The outer jumpsuit was still unzipped almost all the way down, your clothes underneath displaced and tucked strangely from the way he'd pushed everything aside, and you worked rather quickly to right it all. Though, you allowed your hands to trace over your curves in some places, stealing a glace or two at him as you did. His eyes didn't leave you, but he did shift a bit in his chair.

"Sure seems like it." you replied, trying your best to smooth some of the wrinkles out of the jumpsuit. Gathering up the coat from the bed, you shook it out gently before crossing the small gap between the bed and the bench, tucking the worn brown leather over the back of the chair carefully. You leaned down slowly as you finished, wrapping your arms around his rather broad shoulders from behind, keeping your movements steady so as not to unpleasantly surprise him.

"Hi." you smiled, leaning far enough forward over him that you could see one another's faces.

"Hey." he chuckled, turning his head as far as his stiff neck would allow.

"Thanks for lending me your coat. Did you get any rest?"

"Oh yeah." he replied, following up when you quirked your eyebrow in doubt with a quick "Just sitting here is resting!"

"You've got to relax to rest, silly." you murmured, letting your hands run gently further down the firm planes of his chest. He tensed palpably at the contact, but you persisted in your soft massaging, keeping your touch delicate. Soon, he sat back fully back into his chair once more, and you rewarded his acquiescence with some soft kisses to his cheek and jaw as the heel of your hand rubbed across his sternum. Raul's eyes fell shut, making him appear deep in concentration. You took the opportunity to study his face closely, running your eyes over the scarred skin, noting every little mark and studying his incredibly scant eyebrows, drawn tight together as you let you palms slip further down over his flat stomach until your fingertips gingerly touched his belt line.

The response you earned with this motion was stronger than before, a brief moment of him squirming in what seemed to be genuine discomfort as his eyes flitted back and forth between your hands and your face. Easing back just a bit, you allowed one hand to move back up to his chest, stroking it comfortingly as the other simply rested along his torso, barely touching the edge of the leather strap. His writhing slowly ceased as you tried your best to soothe him, softly pressing your lips to his temple and cheek, a soft gesture he seemed to really appreciate, leaning into your kisses even as he continued to move decreasingly. For a moment, you sort of awkwardly held him in a half-hug from behind, waiting until he settled fully.

"I wanna help you relax." you whispered into what was left of his ear.

A low groan left his chest at your words, a louder echo following as you let your lips kiss a trail down the side of his throat. His hips arced off the seat just a bit, and you seized the moment to allow your hands to join one another back at his belt buckle.

"You can try, boss." he half-chuckled quietly, his tone a mixture of overstimulation and dismay.

Taking a deep, quiet breath to steady yourself, you let one hand trace lower, groping him through his pants, each small move calculated. Like the previous night, he was nowhere near completely hard despite how strained his breathing was, but you tried your best to not let it affect how you touched him, not wanting to seem like you were judging him. You mirrored his technique from the night before, teasing him while tracing your lips along his throat. While his kisses had been experimental, slowly evolving into measured teases intended to rile you up, your own were sweet, worshipful, lacking expectation. No need to put pressure on him to perform when all you wanted to do was show him how you really felt.

"Mm." he grunted tersely when the hand that wasn't actively groping him started to fiddle with the flexible, well-broken-in leather strap that wrapped around his hips, the relatively large metal buckle cool against your fingertips as they traced along the shape it.

"If you want me to stop, just say so, okay?" you murmured comfortingly as you began to tug the tongue of the belt from where it had been tucked away. Raul had grown uneasily silent, gaze transfixed on the way you manipulated the leather strap. However, when you manipulated the button loose and tenderly wrapped your hand around his shaft for the first time, he looked away, chin sharply pointing towards the wall. His lack of full engorgement made it easier to tug him free of his worn denim trousers.

You gave his length a soft squeeze in your hand, then a firmer one, the latter drawing a quiet rumble from the man sitting before you. That made the corners of your mouth quirk up against his skin.

Feeling him breathe deeply in, you began to stroke him with a rather light grip, letting him acclimate to your touch. His face remained turned away, though you couldn't quite pin down his reasons for refusing to watch. At one point, he grew squirmy, and you pulled you lips off of his skin to avoid overstimulating him, instead resting your chin gently on his shoulder, studying every aspect of his reaction. The hand that had undone his belt moved back to rest on his opposite shoulder, fingers resting softly at his nape. He seemed to enjoy these more static touches, leaning into the light pressure you applied, so you let your whole body still except for the hand around his cock, which was slowly increasing the speed and grip of its strokes.

Though Raul was seemingly uninterested in seeing the scene that was unfolding, you were spellbound, unable to look away from the way his mouth and scant brows contorted, the way his scarred cock reddened at the tip. The old ghoul seemed to be enjoying your attentions thoroughly despite the way his body seemed to protest the pleasure; his spine was so rigid it looked painful, his fingers wrapped around the arm rests of the chair he sat in, but his hips had begun to unconsciously buck into your embrace. He still hadn't grown much harder, despite his obvious excitement, but you didn't care, excited and aroused that you were making him feel good.

You stayed like that a while, continuing to ratchet things up until he was panting and groaning, the sound shooting hot lightening into your gut. Letting your lips wander his throat once more, you gave him a playful scrape with your teeth, and his whole body jolted.

"Ah--" he grunted out in an attempted warning, his grip on the chair arm so tight that you could hear the dry wood splinter. At long last, he turned back to look at you, and his eyes were wide and wet.

"Oh, baby. Let go." you breathed, struggling to maintain the same pressure and rhythm with your touches in your excitement. You'd never seen him so raw and vulnerable, the almost pained expression on his face making your gut tight.

Though he never did grow harder than maybe halfway, you were beyond pleased when he began to throb and leak in your grip, his head falling back loosely as another moan left him. When he finally lost control, it was as if someone had touched him with a cattle prod, his whole form jumping and tensing rhythmically as he gasped and groaned. He came hard, it seemed, though not much, a few spurting dribbles of slick warmth running down the backs of your fingers as you continued to tug at him gently. You planted more kisses, light as you could place them, along his temple as he shuddered against you.

He let his face rest, neck lax, against your chest, and your clean hand moved to cradle the back of his hairless head. You left your hand wrapped around him, feeling him grow softer as his breathing did the same. Briefly, you thought how nice it would be to get to hold him so close forever.

"Alright, let me clean up and we can get around to packing." you sighed eventually, satisfied with yourself as you moved to straighten up fully. Your back protested a bit as you did, having grown accustomed to the angle you'd been holding it at, the resulting twinge distracting you from the way his hand struck out lightening-quick to grasp you gently around the wrist.

"Lemme help you with that, honey." he said, that worried edge in his gaze softer than you'd ever seen it as he looked up at you. Your free, unsoiled hand moved up to cup his rough cheek, mirroring the way he'd touched you the night before as the energy that radiated from his flesh tingled into your palm. Staring at him for a moment, you felt it safe to lean back in for a kiss, a feeling that was instantly validated when he kissed you back more passionately than ever before. A little gasp left your nose as you felt his own unoccupied hand creep up the back of your thigh, giving a rather playful squeeze to your ass and sending you pulling away giggling.

Maybe you'd resume your travels tomorrow, instead.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Day 5 -- Raul Tejada

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober, Day 5 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don't interact.

Workbench Sex with Raul x M! Six/Reader

I know Raul is kind of coded as a sassy, sarcastic Mexican grandpa most of the time, but... Idk, this ghoul just does something for me. Hopefully it's the same with you, too 😅

I hope you enjoy!

Here is the link to my Kinktober 2022 Event list so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Workbench sex, dirty talk, begging, Spanish, anal sex, anal fingering, lube, slight daddy kink, slight brat taming, slight bdsm dynamics, multiple orgasms, cum shot, hand jobs, prostate orgasm, aftercare, pillow talk.

*Also, just a disclaimer, I am not fluent in Spanish by any means, so if y'all see any issues with the bits that are in Spanish, please let me know! 😅*

3k words.

--

Raul was reduced to sitting, with all the hours he’d spent bent over the workbench. His elbows leaned against the metal, holding up the pistol in question, the one that refused to work, no matter how much he tried to fix it, no matter the words he used to insult the damn thing. It just wouldn’t budge. 

“I think that’s enough, papi.” You placed a hand on his shoulder as you stepped behind him. “You’ve been glaring at that piece of junk for over an hour.”

He pulled the pistol out of Raul’s grasp gently, pushing it to the far end of the table, away from his reach. 

“I would know. Cuz I’ve been sitting over at the table watching, and you hadn’t even noticed.” 

Raul’s eyes widened as he turned to you. 

“What?” 

“Yeah, been sitting there. All alone. Just waiting for you to notice me…” You drew your hand from his shoulder down to his chest, teasing at the zip of his jumpsuit before trailing up his neck to sweep along his jaw. Raul blinked at you. 

“Well, you could’ve said something, boss.” Raul’s eyes glinted as he looked into yours, “Then maybe I would’ve noticed you, yeah?” 

“I would’ve said something, papi, but I was just so lonely.” You whined dramatically. The side of Raul’s mouth twitched upwards in response. “I was incapacitated by it. By my need for you.” 

“Seems you made it over here just fine, you could’ve done that earlier, you know?” 

Your nostrils flared at his rebuttal. 

“Babe, can you just play along with me? I missed you.” You bent down and pressed your lips to the side of his mouth. 

“And I really do need you.” You whispered. 

Raul humored you, shifting his head to press his meager lips to yours briefly, the glint in his eye turning to fire. 

“Then you should’ve just said that, mi corazón.” 

The stillness of the day, the frustration, the stiff muscles and aching back Raul had been battling became little more than obsolete. They became fuel. Everything that built up, it had to spill out, somehow. And now you were begging for it. 

You tried to hold back your excited grin, as Raul rose from his seat in front of you. You knocked the chair aside with your foot, stepping closer as he turned to face you. Without another thought, without hesitation, your hands were on the collar of his jumpsuit, pulling him close into a heated kiss. 

Raul grinned into the contact, thrilled by your fervor. 

There were nights between the two of you, more often than not, where you took things slow, where you started off gentle, where you eased into some sensual lovemaking in bed, but tonight was not one of those nights. No, he was much too pent up for that, and you… You were too desperate. It didn’t happen too often this way, but right now, tonight… 

Raul nipped at your bottom lip, hauling you closer by the skin so he could devour you further. 

Tonight, I’m gonna make count. 

Your feet were moving, following the lead your body set, following the lead it had to take in response to Raul’s manhandling. He turned you both around, pushing you back until you pressed against the wall beside the workbench. He crushed your body to it with his own, lips still sealed with yours as he kneaded over them aggressively. 

“Oh, mijo, no sabes en lo que te has metido.” He growled as he pulled away, your mind reeling at the harsh sound, at the words spilling from those lips you craved. “Espero que no te arrepientas.” 

With that, Raul’s lips claimed you again, his hands rising to grasp at your cotton shirt. 

Your comfortable clothes were his favorite, in moments like these. You only wore them when you felt safe, when you were at the Lucky 38. Only with him. 

And they were so easy to remove. 

He pulled the soft garment off over your head, breaking your contact for half a second, before crashing to you again, your own hands wantonly pawing at the front of his jumpsuit. 

Raul ignored your pleas, moving his own hands’ attentions to your sweatpants, and easing them down over your hips to pool at the floor below. Raul groaned at the sight of you, as he opened his eyes to take it in. Take you in. 

“Mierda, mi guapo…” He breathed as his eyes scanned over your bare form. Raul felt his jumpsuit tighten around his crotch. “Te necesito.” 

“I need you, papi.” You echoed Raul’s sentiment, hands finally forgoing any kind of permission, and hauling his zipper down to his waist. 

You brushed your hands over the ghoul’s bare chest, pushing the garment off over his shoulders, and helping him pull off the sleeves. Raul moved with you, snapping out of the trance you’d put him in just in time to grasp your wrists with his hands. 

“Six, deténgase.” You tried to pull out of his grasp. “Stop it, mijo.” 

Reluctantly, your hands ceased their movement. 

“Muy bueno. You don’t listen to me, how am I supposed to help you, hm?” 

Your eyebrows creased together as you thought about whining out some sort of refute, but you bit down on your tongue instead. 

If I’m good, I’ll get what I need sooner. 

“That’s it. Now, haz lo que te digo.” 

That you understood. He said it frequently during your more… heated trysts. 

Do what I tell you to. 

“Si, papi.” You said with a grin. 

“Good, querido.” His hands stroked over your wrists, easing the ache you’d felt from his rough grasp. “Now…” 

Raul pressed forward, mischief prevalent in the air between you. The air around him. 

“Bend over the workbench.” He whispered against your ear, his warm breath washing over you, sending chills down your spine right alongside the words he’d uttered. 

Your heart gave an excited jump inside as he released you, and you brushed past him. You did as you were told– hell, you did as you wanted to do, whether he’d told you to or not– and leaned down with your elbows on the metal surface of his workbench, thrusting your hips out invitingly as he strode towards you. 

Your fingers drummed against the metal in anticipation. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been thinking about Raul and you doing something like this… almost frequently, as he worked bent over the thing damn near every day, but for him to be the one to initiate? For it to be on a night he’s feeling pent up and wild after a frustrating day spent mostly apart? You couldn’t have asked for better circumstances. 

He rested a calloused hand on your ass, brushing over your skin tenderly before dealing a rough slap to the meat of it. You gasped, feeling your cock jerk upwards at the feel of the aggressive attention. 

He chuckled behind you as he pulled his hand away. 

“Stay put, mi amado.” 

With what you were sure he has in store? You wouldn’t dream of moving. 

There was shuffling behind you, Raul moving to another part of the room, a drawer opening, his footsteps back over to you, your heart rate increasing with each step, each passing moment. Fabric rustled behind you, and you felt his looming presence just beyond your back. 

“Spread your legs for me, por favor.” 

You did so easily, feet sliding over the tile floor as you quickly moved to obey him. 

Raul hummed in approval from behind you, and you heard a cap pop off from a bottle. 

The question of what it was was answered quickly, as you felt his hand reach for you, lube-slicked fingers brushing against the skin of your ass, prodding askingly at your taut entrance. 

“Intenta relajarte, mijo.” He whispered in your ear as he bent over you, his warm, uneven skin pressing to your back as his fingers prodded deeper into you. “Open up for me.” 

Your hands slid over the metal tabletop, reaching the far edge and grasping onto it in preparation as you took a breath and closed your eyes. When you breathed in, you breathed him in. The scent of a man at work. Metallic, hardy, a tinge of that unique ghoulish smell that most found unpleasant, but that just reminded you of the man you loved. 

He eased one finger inside you, the light stretch eased by the generous amount of lube as he began to thrust the digit in and out, working you open slowly, until he felt you could take two. 

It took less time than usual, your arousal at being bent over like this, fucked against the hard workbench that stole your partner’s attention from you so often, making you needy and pliant. 

“Papi…” You sighed, bordering on a whine, on a question. A demand, even. 

“Tell me what you need from me, mijo.” His voice was a low rasp against the shell of your ear. 

“Take me, please.” You begged, “Fuck me.” 

Your spine shuddered at your words. So lewd, but so sincere in your utterance of them. Like a dog whining as it begs for the scraps it needs to survive. 

This seemed as important a necessity, in this moment.

“Mm, you sound so good like this. Suplicando por mi.” 

Raul pulled his hand away from your ass, and you heard him open the bottle of lube once again. Your own cock strained upwards, prodding at your belly as your gut clenched with anticipation, as Raul took his sweet time rubbing the slick lubricant over his dick. 

“Eres tan perfecta. Like this.” Your legs shake as you feel the head of his cock prod at your ass. “Ask me again.” 

You whined at his teasing, hips thrusting backwards to try and push him into you. 

“Please,” You begged, meaning every letter of the word, “Por favor, mi vida, please just fuck me already.” 

He released a chuckle from behind you, one hand stroking over your ass while the other kept his cock at an infuriatingly close distance from being within you. 

“That was beautiful, mijo. Never heard someone beg so sweetly.” 

You whimpered once more from beneath him, the sound involuntary, forced out by your own desperation. 

“Easy.” His hand rubbed over you, spreading your asscheeks apart with his long fingers. “Te daré lo que necesitas.” 

He pushed forward, easing the head of his cock inside your tight entrance with one small thrust.

You keened below him, asshole clenching tight around the tip of his member at the stretch of his intrusion. Raul hissed through his teeth behind you. 

“Cálmate, mijo.” Raul grunted, his hand gripping hard at your ass, “Me vas a cortar el pene, lo juro.”

You didn’t quite understand the words, but you knew well enough to relax. His tight grip and clenched teeth were enough of a sign of the effect you were having on him. You took a deep breath in, forcing your fingers to ease their grip on the side of the table, and relaxing your clenching grip on your partner’s cock. 

“There we go. Mucho mejor.” Raul sighed, easing more of himself inside you as you loosened enough to accommodate him. 

“Sorry. Not as much prep as usual.” You grunted beneath him as he worked his length into you, pulling out slightly, before shoving forward in a repeated process, until his hips met your ass, and he was seated completely inside. 

“No te disculpes, mi amado.” 

Raul began to move, pulling out halfway, before shoving back inside, working up a steady rhythm that had you panting against the workbench. 

“Te sientes tan bien a mi alrededor.” Raul groaned, “So warm, es divino.” 

Your legs began to feel numb under his pulsing movement, his pace quickening as you loosened your grip around his length. You grunted as his tip prodded a pressure point deep inside you, feeling your cock jerk upwards in response to the burst of blinding pleasure. Your hole clenched at him at the same time, the grip making him stutter and lose his building momentum. 

“Mierda.” He cursed, “There it is. Prepárate.” 

When your grip eased enough for him to pull out, he almost completely left you, before shoving right back in, to that same spot. You moaned out against the table, fingers aching from their harsh grip on the metal’s edge, and tightened around your partner’s cock once again. A hand grasped at the inside of your right thigh, encouraging you to rest one knee up on the table, and you relented as Raul pulled away from you again, leaving just the tip inside. 

Raul’s hands gripped you tight, one at your hip, holding your leg in place, as the other held fast to your chest, his body bending around yours, slotting you together like a puzzle piece. 

There was no time to grip at him with this new angle as he shoved deep inside you once more, and you were left gasping beneath him at the new-found depth. 

Raul was hammering into that spot within you now, the head of his cock prodding your sensitive prostate, battering it into submission as he felt the frustration of the day ebbing with each stroke, leaving room for him to build to another sensation. You were floundering now, mind foggy with each repetitive burst of pleasure he was forcing on you. Your grounded leg shook, feeling like jelly beneath you as you felt a pressure deep inside you threaten to spill over. 

Each shove of his length against you pile-drove you towards your orgasm. You were sputtering beneath him, vision going dark and hazy with pleasure when you felt the hand at your hip leave you, venturing down below the table.

“Termina por mi.” Raul grunted out as his hand brushed your cock, grasping your hardened length and stroking roughly over you. 

It was too much. 

The sensations, of him deep inside you, knocking against your most sensitive place, around you, wringing your release from you before you could utter a sound of surprise. 

“Ahora.” He growled, and his hand squeezed down hard at the head of your cock, just as his hips thrust hard inside you, burying himself to the hilt with his tip mashing into your prostate. 

The world faded around you as your eyes filled with stars, as you felt your leg give out beneath you, collapsing fully onto the table as you writhed with overwhelming bliss. Raul’s body was all that was holding you up against the bench, his hard cock still nestled inside you as you clenched wildly around him, palm still caressing your cock as it pulsed against it, spurting your cum down onto the floor. 

You panted, trembling, as he wrung the last bits of release from you, your ass still trying to squeeze tiredly at him as he slowly pulled out. 

Your partner’s hands steadied you on the workbench, helping you to get your legs back underneath yourself. You looked back with half-lidded eyes as his hands left you, in favor of himself. 

“Espera un momento, por mi.”

Raul’s hand wrapped around his own cock, still hard and pulsing, still coated in slick, and he stroked over himself quickly. 

“Hold still, mi amado.” He grunted, and you let out a sigh of contentment as you felt his release spill onto your back. You hummed in encouragement as you heard his breathing stutter behind you.

Raul nearly collapsed onto you, bracing one hand on the workbench as he leaned over your body and milked the last of his cum from his dick, spurting the last of it onto your searing skin, slick with your sweat. 

The two of you simply stilled for a moment, breathing hard. You felt his hot breath spill over your back, then his hand, as he rubbed over your shoulder to the nape of your neck, stroking soothingly over your smooth skin until you both had caught your breath. 

“Eres tan perfecto para mi.” You heard him whisper, and you smiled. You’d heard that one a time or two as well. 

Perfect for him. 

Your chest warmed at the sentiment, but before you could respond, he was rising to his feet behind you. It ended as it began, as you heard his footsteps echo around the room, drawers and doors being opened, closed, all while you waited, draped over the workbench, coated in sweat and bliss and him. 

Raul came back to you, a clean rag in hand, and wiped his release from your back, and the slick from your ass. Your teeth gritted at the feel of the rough cloth against your sore, battered entrance, and Raul touched your shoulder with a kiss. 

“You alright, mijo?” 

“Mmhm.” 

You nodded, sitting up and facing him, leaning back against the workbench as you watched him wipe himself clean. He tossed the rag aside and handed you a water as he sat back against the workbench right beside you. 

“Thanks.” You gulped it down greedily, handing back the last bit of it so he could finish it off. 

“Time for bed, eh?” 

You nodded to him again, and let Raul lead you back to your shared bed in the other room, your legs still unsteady from the exertion of your dual orgasms. 

“I wasn’t too rough with you, right, amado?” 

Raul asked as he climbed into bed beside you. 

You scooted over to him immediately, wrapping an arm around his waist, settling your head against his warm chest. 

“No, baby, that was perfect.” 

You felt his muscles relax beneath you. 

“Perfecto para mi.” You added, a grin at your lips as you felt him release a chuckle. 

“Glad to hear it.” 

Your eyes closed at that, a warm pleasantness settling over you, beckoning you to sleep. 

…

“Say, boss, I didn’t know you spoke Spanish.” 

Your eyes rolled from beneath closed lids, and Raul chuckled again. 

[everydayyoulovemeless]

sooo... how would New Vegas base game companions react to maybe 1 or 3 of /your/ favorite wild wasteland encounters?

would that be anything?

FNV Companions Reactions to Various Wild Wasteland Encounters

➼ Word Count » 1.0k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic

Boone

He can't help but stare at you stupidly when you leave Mick and Ralphs with the Pimp-Boy 3 Billion. You were supposed to buy ammo, maybe some weapons, not trade out your Pip-Boy for that. Not only does it serve the exact same purpose, but it's also going to make you a lot easier to spot in the desert with the way it shimmers in the sun. He's going to be so annoyed with you and won't talk to you for a good week afterward.

Boone tenses up when he spots the alien spacecraft off in the distance for the first time. He can’t seem to do anything but stop and stare for a minute before aiming his rifle at the thing to get a closer look at what it is and who is operating it. However, when he spots the alien in the driver's seat, he puts his gun down. His disbelief only heightens when the ship seemingly disappears within seconds of him looking away. He won’t sleep for a few days after, too busy trying to piece together what he saw.

Boone doesn’t think too hard about it and quickly pockets the holy grenades when you both happen upon them in the Searchlight church. He doesn’t care whether they’re “holy” or not, he doesn’t even care to know what that entails, he just wants as many as he can in his arsenal.

Arcade

Arcade feels like he should’ve known what to expect when he allowed you to walk into Mick and Ralph’s on your own. He knows Freeside better than anyone, of course, they’d be smuggling something odd inside. He won’t have much of a reaction to it, a part of him felt like he’d already known something distasteful was going to happen. Next time he’ll just be sure to supervise.

Arcade panics a bit when he spots the spaceship. He’s never been certain on whether or not he believes in aliens, but the thought of something being out there with technology that reminds him somewhat of the Enclave.. he finds that discomforting. He’ll write whatever he noticed down somewhere on the inside cover of a book and pray that whatever it was isn’t hostile.

Arcade immediately picks up the holy grenades in fascination. He’s not sure what makes them different—probably nothing at all—but the description is enough to get him to think. He’s familiar with quite a few religious texts and the discovery of the explosives may even trigger him to go on a philosophical rant.

Raul

Raul can’t help but chuckle in disbelief when he sees you walk out with the golden pip-boy wrapped around your arm. He hates it. This is probably the worst thing you could’ve done for them. And he’s going to complain the entire time, constantly poking jabs at you for being stupid enough to wander around in a desaturated desert with the one thing that makes you most visible.

Raul doesn’t have much reaction to the spacecraft. He knows he should probably be surprised, but he’s just.. not. He’s seen so much in the Mojave already, that it makes sense for aliens to exist, at least that’s how he sees it.

He gets a little kick out of the holy grenades. He’ll wave you over to come look at them, saying how he thinks it’s odd someone took the time to leave a sign labeling standard grenades as “holy”. He may even suggest that you both do something similar. Get a bit of a rise out of people. Make them think their weapons are “special”.

Lily

She thinks the Pimp-Boy suits you perfectly! She only wishes she could’ve thought of something like it first. She’ll gush and brag to all her friends back at Jacobstown about how her grandchild has a golden pip-boy. It makes Leo a little more alert as well. He’s going to be worried that someone will try and rob you of it so she might even become a little more violent in battle.

Lily is unfazed by the spaceship and, depending on her mental state at the time, may even mistake it for Santa’s sleigh or some other friendly character to get you excited about all the gifts you’re about to receive! (all from her)

When Lily spots the holy grenades, she immediately begins reminiscing on her days spent at the chapel. She’ll go on about how she was in the choir and never missed any sermons on Sunday morning. It restores some of her fonder memories for a couple of minutes and it makes her happy.

Cass

When Cass sees the Pimp-Boy, she is going to want to sell it. She’ll try everything to convince you that it’s the right move, especially since it’s made out of pure gold. The number of caps you could swindle out of some poor wastelander would be worth the trouble of being without the thing. Besides, you both could snatch up another one from one of the local vaults to replace it with.

Cass convinced herself that the alien spaceship she saw was just a hallucination caused by her drinking and walking around all day in the heat. She doesn’t even entertain the idea of aliens being real.

She’ll skim the “holy grenade” sign and ignore it for the rest of the time you’re there. She’s not crazy about explosives and so doesn’t really care either way what they are.

Veronica

Veronica thinks the Pimp-Boy is so fun and would beg you to let her borrow it for a few hours so she can tinker around with it. She thinks the gadget is a lovely color and an interesting trinket, especially since you seemed to get it out of nowhere. She’ll show it off to everyone else in the bunker and brag about how you and her are the official pimps of the Brotherhood.

Veronica lets out a quiet ‘oh’ when she spots the spacecraft hovering around the desert one evening. She’ll stare at it in awe for a moment, caught off guard by the sheer technological wonder that it is. When she turns to see if you see it too, however, it disappears, and she’s left to wonder who or what had been responsible for it.

She doesn’t even bother with the holy grenades when you stumble upon them. Explosions aren’t her speciality, but if you’d like them, she wouldn’t mind pocketing them.

[justanotherfalloutauthor]

Victor Plays Matchmaker

Character/Ships: Courier x Arcade // Courier x Boone // Courier x Cass // Courier x Veronica // Courier x Raul Series: Fallout New Vegas Word Count: 479 (intro) + 408 (Arcade) // 512 (Boone) // 500 (Cass) // 458 (Veronica) // 393 (Raul)

TW: Alcohol (Cass)

❤ ❤ ❤

The harsh Mojave sunlight beat down upon the glittering city of New Vegas. The flashing neon lights and signs  were dim against the bright blue of the sky, sprinkled with a few light clouds that did little to stop the intensity of the bright daylight.

On the Strip, there were a handful of rowdy gamblers and the occasional drunkard, but for the most part, it was quiet as the Courier made their way up the stairs of the Lucky 38. Victor greeted them with a flailing arm that was soon draped over their shoulder as he ushered them inside.

The doors behind them creaked closed and, as they stepped onto the carpeted floor of the casino, Victor pulled the Courier aside with a wayward glance to the elevator and lead them to the western side of the ground floor of the building, amongst the empty tables and chairs coated in dust and debris from the years of neglect. Victor gestured to one such empty booth, the torn and stained fabric that must have been an electrifying shade of red back in its prime now faded into an ugly shade of burgundy. As the Courier slipped into the seat, they idly wondered how much time had passed since it had been cleaned properly. Once they had settled into the chair, the Courier gave Victor a puzzled look, leaning over the table.

“I’m sure you’re itching to get back to the boss and tell him about your latest adventures with the Omertas,” Victor drawled as he parked himself in front of the table and rested his claws over the wooden surface. “But I wanted to have a word with you in private before you go gallivanting off to the Presidential Suite.”

The Courier raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

“Now, your old pal Victor just wants to chat about one of your friends… One taking up residence upstairs there.”

“What?” The Courier sighed, exasperated. The beginnings of a tension headache buzzed in their skull. “What did they do this time?”

Victor chuckled. “No, no! It’s not what they’ve done. It’s what hasn’t happened yet…”

“What?” The Courier repeated. Victor clicked his claws together nervously on the counter. From the short distance across the table, the Courier could hear the creaking gears and whirring fans through Victor’s chest cavity. Was he anxious?

“I'm not one for beating around the bush, so I'm just going to come right out and say it." Victor placed a claw on the Courier's shoulder as he spoke. "I seen the way your buddy up there looks at you and I seen the way you look at them, and I think you two'd make a fine couple. I got the sense you just needed an outside observer to give you a push in the right direction, so that's what I'm doing now!"

The Courier spluttered. "You mean, me and…"

❤ ❤ ❤

"...Arcade?"

The robot nodded enthusiastically - or, at least, he attempted to by rapidly shaking his monitor up and down in the imitation of human agreement. The Courier might have been amused if they weren’t horrified. Victor wasn’t done, however, and he quickly produced a menagerie of old, dusty textbooks from behind the table. 

Ah, so this was why Victor had brought them to this table in particular.

“Look at these! The boss was nice enough to let me give these to you; why dont’cha give them to your doctor pal? Bond over… Uh…” Victor picked up one of the pre-war textbooks and held it to his monitor. “...Human tissue!”

The Courier picked one up from the counter and ran their fingers over the gold lettering on the spine. “Victor, I appreciate it, but he’s a researcher - not necessarily a medical doctor-”

"You can learn together! The two of ya, bettering each other's skills; great idea for a first date if you wanna invite him out to that Fort you two like to visit from time to time."

“Enough! Victor, I don’t have feelings for Arcade.” The Courier drummed their fingers impatiently on the table as their face warmed involuntarily. They could feel the rising heat on their cheeks. "I don't know where your idea came from. Besides, we're friends! Wouldn’t trade that for anything."

The securitron brushed his arm affectionately over one of the textbooks laid on the counter before turning back to his friend. The familiar buzz from his monitor was comforting amongst the quiet of the abandoned casino floor. "Friends don't look at each other the way you two do."

The atmosphere had changed from painfully awkward to just uncomfortable, a change for which the Courier felt grateful as they shook their head affectionately at the securitron in front of them. Victor enthusiastically handed over the few books still held in his claws, and the Courier’s protests died on their lips as they thumbed through what they had been given. Despite their age, the books were in remarkably pristine condition, and covered a wide range of subjects from medicine to robotics. Maybe Victor did have the right idea. Besides, even if they lost their nerve at the prospect of asking the handsome doctor to work with them, at least they might learn something useful in the process. 

The Courier reluctantly grabbed a few of the textbooks and got up from the table. 

Well, here goes nothing.

❤ ❤ ❤

"...Boone?"

“Your friend from the NCR! That’s him, right?” Victor replied.

“Oh, no, there’s nothing going on between us.” The Courier murmured half-heartedly, rubbing the back of their neck. They stared at the table and grimaced in an attempt to suppress the blush forming on their cheeks. The act didn’t fool the securitron, who clicked his claws and huffed in response. 

“Don’t be so quick to deny it! I know I’m just an old securitron, but I see what I see, and the two of you are missing out on something if you don’t do nothing about it.”

“That’s sweet of you, Victor, but I’m not interested. We aren’t interested.” The Courier rolled their eyes and leaned back in the booth, glaring at the robot in front of them as if to say ‘bring it up again, I dare you’. 

Unfortunately for them, Victor was stubborn enough to not take the hint. 

“You both like putting those legionaries across the lake in the ground, dont’cha? You can make a date of it! The two of ya can sneak into that camp and give ‘em hell! And your date might even teach ya a thing or two about taking out someone at a distance.”

“Was that a pot-shot at my combat skills, Victor?” The Courier chewed their lip, attempting to turn the conversation back to the mundane. Victor wasn’t taking the bait. 

“It could be fun! And, you’d be doing Mr. House a favour to boot; don’t want an excess of those legionaries crawling around Hoover Dam when we get on the scene…”

The Courier groaned and held their face in their hands, rubbing their temple. The Mojave heat had permeated the building and the unusually warm temperature was getting to their temper. “So, this is actually for House?”

Victor brushed the dust off the counter absentmindedly. “Not exactly... I just thought it’d be the perfect way for the two of ya to bond!”

The Courier sat in silence for a minute and stared at the dappled sunlight streaming through the tattered curtains. The light illuminated the gleaming metal of Victor’s casing, and the Courier couldn’t help but let their mind wander so slightly, reflecting on what the securitron said. There was no possible way that this would end well. Boone had gone through such horror in such a short amount of time; losing his wife, combined with the Battle of Bitter Springs… Even if the feelings the Courier had secretly been harbouring for their sniper friend were reciprocal, they knew he wouldn't be ready to act on it.

No, maybe it was best to let it go.

…On the other hand though, there was no real worst case scenario; if they were rejected, they could always play it off as an order from Mr. House.

With a million possibilities swimming in their mind, the Courier rose from their seat and shook their head slowly at Victor as they let out a shaky breath. "What have you talked me into, Victor?" 

"The best first date you've ever been on, partner!" Victor replied chirpily.

❤ ❤ ❤

"...Cass?"

Victor chuckled once more, his metallic frame brushing up against the counter behind the booth. The scraping of metal against metal was a lightning bolt against the Courier's skull and they cringed at the noise. The heat was already getting to them; no sense in adding noise to the mix.

"That's her!" Victor replied, raising his voice to be heard against the ruckus he was causing. Eventually, he slithered back out from behind the bar, brandishing two bottles of expensive whiskeys. He gave a bottle to the Courier who took it carefully, turning it in their hands. Amber liquid sloshed inelegantly against the glass. 

"Betcha wondering why your old pal Victor's giving you something from the vintage collection…”

“Vintage?” The Courier echoed. It looked rather average to them.

“Vintage! Best whiskey that caps can buy. With any luck, might not even burn on the way down ya gullet! Not that I’d know, but, well, an old securitron can dream.”

The Courier’s gaze flickered from Victor to the bottle, then back to Victor. They lacked the courage to ask him what the point was of a liquor that didn’t burn. “Why are you giving this to me?”

“Did those bullets scramble your head up? Maybe Doc Mitchell didn’t patch ya up properly.” Victor almost tutted as he slid the second bottle down next to the Courier. “What’s-her-name… Rose of Sharon Cassidy enjoys a good beverage, and what’s better than a good whiskey and even better company?”

The Courier spluttered as they placed the whiskey back down on the table and shot Victor a glare. “C’mon, Victor. Leave it be. I’m not gonna get Cass drunk enough to... Well...”

Now it was Victor who was offended. “Partner, I thought you’d know me by now that I would never suggest you take advantage of a lady!”

The Courier sighed as they slunk in their seat, the fabric scratching against their skin as they did so. It was not unlike the prickling sensation that they felt under their skin at the mention of a date.

Victor clicked his metallic hand against one of the whiskey bottles, sighing. “I’m suggesting you give one of these to your lady friend as a gift, and the two of you split one. Go somewhere fancy, dress up, hit the town!”

“What for?” The Courier wrinkled their nose. The realisation that they hadn’t been quite so secretive about their feelings towards the charming redhead was an embarrassing enough notion; they didn’t need to be pushed into admitting it further.

“I won’t hear no more about it, friend. You get into that elevator, give this to her, and ask her to share a drink!” Victor declared.

Suddenly, the Courier found themselves being hoisted out of the booth and pushed towards the elevator by the securitron, bottles of whiskey in hand.

Despite Victor’s rudeness, the Courier begrudgingly went along with him. ‘After all,’ they thought as they looked at the alcohol in their hands, ‘what was the worst that could happen?’

❤ ❤ ❤

"...Veronica?"

“It’s a perfect match, really,” Victor laughed from the other side of the table. He almost sounded smug. “She packs a mean punch, and you dish ‘em out!”

The Courier furrowed their brow in confusion and they drummed their fingers on the counter. “What does that even mean, Victor?”

“You’re both good at killing things, is what I mean. Gosh, didn’t think I’d need to spell it out so much for ya!”

“Great.” The Courier snarked. They stared at their knuckles, bruised and sore from the day’s efforts. It wasn’t even midday and their body was aching. How did Veronica manage to lug around that power fist so effortlessly? The sunlight poured in through the window, unbroken by the raggedy curtains, and the Courier followed the beams that settled on the elevator doors. Victor followed their gaze and snorted in amusement.

“Eager to get back to her, hey?” He commented with the faintest hint of a laugh. The Courier snapped back to reality, pink now dusting their cheeks. They shook their head, almost in an effort to rid their mind of what they knew their next thoughts would be of. Or, more accurately, who their next thoughts would be of.  

“Victor, no, it wouldn’t work out between us - not that there’s anything there to begin with, I mean.” The Courier added quickly. Veronica had loved and lost in the past; this much, the Courier knew, but knew little else of her love-life. It was a topic the pair were reluctant to talk about. Maybe it was for this reason. 

“You two are as cute as a button. I hear how y’all talk to each other. The gifts you give each other. You’re practically together already, it’s a crying shame I need to come and spell it out for ya!” Victor threw his arms in the air in an exaggerated act of exasperation, the essence of his humour still dancing in his words. The Courier was far less impressed as they turned around and crossed their arms, their back now towards the securitron.

“It isn’t like that, Victor…”

“Sure it isn’t. And I ain’t a RobCo Securitron.” Victor tutted. Quiet descended over the room as he leaned in towards the Courier, who was now looking across the room and avoiding eye contact.

“I ain’t saying it’s a sure thing,” Victor began, his voice low and oddly serious, “I’m just sayin’ I know what I see. Go tell her how you feel.”

For the first time in a long while, the Courier raised their head and gave Victor a look of abashed indignation. They sighed as they got up from the counter and turned towards the elevator.

“I’ll think about it, Victor. Thanks.”

“That’s good enough for me, friend!”

❤ ❤ ❤

"...Raul?"

Victor tapped his metallic claw on the table and wiped the dust off of it, then turned to observe the squeaking in his arm. He only hummed in response. “That mechanic of yours is gifted with a screwdriver. I know you’ve noticed.” He added, a hint of amusement in his tone.

An uncomfortable silence followed as the Courier only snorted in response and turned away from the securitron. Victor knew how they felt about Raul? …What did they feel towards the ghoul?

The Courier groaned. It was too early to worry about their feelings right now. Especially when the person making them feel like this was currently residing in the room above them. Close enough. Was it close enough?

…Yes, it would be close enough. It would have to be. With such biting sarcasm and indignant commentary every time they travelled together, there was no way that the ghoul might look at them in the same way that they looked at him. Despite Victor’s observations to the contrary.

On the other side of the table, Victor had fallen silent. Did he hit a nerve? Victor ran through the interaction in only the way a mechanical intelligence could do. 

No, no he was certain that he was on the right track. He was right about this. 

He cleared his throat; an act that held no meaning in his mechanical body, but the noise held all his intentions.

The Courier, lost in their thoughts, was pulled back by the sound.

“You alright, partner? Did I say something wrong?”

The Courier ignored the question. “What do you mean by ‘me and Raul’, Victor? Really, there’s nothing going on between us. We’re friends.”

Victor would have shaken his head if he were capable of the motion. Instead, he tutted and placed a bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla on the counter. The Courier eyed it suspiciously.

“Before you go jumping at the opportunity to ignore my advice,” Victor said, “Take this. I’m thinking a good first date between you two might involve a couple of cases of these, but this one’s all I got on me at the moment.”

For the first time that meeting, the Courier chuckled as they took the bottle. “Thanks, Victor. I’ll be sure to tell him that.”

“You be sure to!” Victor laughed alongside his companion as the pair strolled toward the elevator.

[nukaberries]

Ahh im so happy to find a blog that writes new vegas! I got into it recently and its so fun! Sometimes i get tired of hearing the radio especially if im travelling way too much, so i just start singing any song that pops into my head or talk to the companions like they're real pfft

im also way too cheery for my own good lmao, game devs knew what they were doing when there was no push button for running, you know how many times i ran into mines and kept running 🧍🏽

I kinda wanna know how the companions would react to that? A Courier who practically bounces as they walk and if its not the radio or them talking to fill the silence, its them singing as they shoot radscorpions !! Couriers not half bad at singing either! They mostly sing quietly while walking the mojave for obvious reasons but on a night they feel especially safe, they'll be singing so well people will wonder why they're not making holotapes for mr new vegas to play (esp if they say the radio gets annoying at times)im sorry this is long im just excited to see a new vegas writer that hasnt left their blog 🤧

I'm SO late to this one, I'm so sorry! But I'm so glad you're enjoying New Vegas! It's tied with Red Dead Redemption 2 as one of my favourite video games! And I'm exactly the same when I play New Vegas, the radio's never off and I have no spatial awareness. I hope this was worth the wait!! (Sorry again lmao)

//

Companions React to a Loud/Chatty Courier (Includes: Arcade, Boone, Cass, Lily, Raul and Veronica)

Arcade Gannon Admittedly, he's a little intimidated at first. He agrees to go with the Courier since there's no point in him sticking around Freeside where he's not helping anyone. He just doesn't realise he's taken up with the most obnoxious person in the West. He's not annoyed by any means, in fact, the singing is actually quite a nice change from the radio. The constant talking is a little overwhelming for him at first though, as someone whose trying his best to keep his past with the Enclave a secret. He knows the Courier means no harm, and he feels a little guilty having to shut down their questions about him, knowing that they only mean well. They do bring out a different side to him he didn't know he had and he sometimes finds himself humming along to either the radio or Six's singing.

Craig Boone At first, he's annoyed by the Courier, but it's not like he has anything better to do. They're his best chance at wiping out the Legion, even if their incessant talking and singing is a little too much for him. He doesn't have a problem with them, but he prefers silence to having to begrudgingly answer someone who talks at a million miles per hour. The only time he'll really voice his complaints is when he actually needs them to be quiet, such as if they're trying to stealthily take out enemies, thankfully the Courier seems to know when to turn off their radio and stop singing. Eventually, the constant chatter and the singing - that he'll never admit is actually enough to rival the radio songs - become background noise he learns to appreciate. He'll never join in with the Courier's singing, but he tries his best to answer their questions and respond to their comments.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy Cass is another one who can't stand the Courier's chatter and singing at first, however, she's more than willing to voice this. A few times, she actually hid the Courier's Pip-Boy while they slept, unfortunately for Cass, they'd already memorised all the lyrics to Johnny Guitar and sung that on repeat for most of the day. It was starting to reach the point where Cass was certain they were doing it on purpose. The singing she hated, but the talking? She didn't mind the talking. In fact, Cass actually looked forward to the talking, she often struggled to make friends, considering her problems with whiskey, so it was nice to just make conversation sometimes. Sure, she'd still keep trying to put an end to the singing, no matter how good it was, but the talking Cass could live with.

Lily Bowen The first time Lily started travelling with the Courier, she was thrilled. Everyone in Jacobstown took life a little too seriously and being with the Courier was a refreshing change for her. Unlike most of the other companions, Lily actually loves the singing and the talking. She'll even suggest that the Courier tries their hand at singing on the Strip, the Tops and the Atomic Wrangler are always looking for new acts after all. Lily will even try and sing along with them, before realising her voice doesn't exactly compliment or rival the Courier's, but so long as they encourage to join in, she always will. The talking is just as lovely for her, it's nice to know that the Courier still cares about their grandma, even if they are growing up so fast.

Raul Tejada Never in all his years of being alive has he met someone like the Courier. It was one thing that they managed to deal with Tabitha, but the fact that they did it with Radio New Vegas playing on full blast from their Pip-Boy? Raul wasn't sure whether to be impressed or absolutely terrified. He leans more towards the latter once he starts travelling with them, struggling to keep up with the Courier constantly asking him questions about where he's from and what his life was like before the war and how he turned ghoul. Like Arcade, Raul finds it overwhelming and eventually asks politely if the Courier can calm down a little with all the questions, thankful when they actually oblige. He learns to love the Courier in spite of their loud habits, even being happy to fix their Pip-Boy when it stops letting them connect to the radio stations. It's against his better judgement, but they seem grateful for it.

Veronica Santangelo She immediately bonds with the Courier over their love for Radio New Vegas. Veronica wishes she had her own Pip-Boy so she could listen to the radio in her own free time, since lugging a radio around the Mojave Desert doesn't seem like the best idea. She absolutely loves the Courier's singing too, insisting that they don't forget her once they make it big in some bar in New Reno. She also tries her best to be the Courier's backup singer when wandering the wasteland, however, she accidentally stumbles up on a lot of her lyrics and trying to pronounce "Agua Fria" at the start of Big Iron quickly becomes the bane of her existence. Veronica also loves to gossip with the Courier, about her love life - and the Courier's if they're willing to disclose it - and all her least favourite things about her commanding officers in the Brotherhood. Whenever she travels with Six, Veronica manages to get a lot of off her chest

[courier-sux]

Raul: You need a hobby.

Courier: I have a hobby.

Raul: Staring at Arcade’s face isn’t a hobby.

Courier: You’re right. It’s a profession and I excel at my job.