#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

[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.

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Hi! If it's ok, can I request the FNV companions + Vulpes with a fem courier who is strictly a top and won't accept a submissive role no matter what? I need more top fem courier in my life.

(Also, you can exclude Arcade since he's gay and I respect his sexuality).

FNV Companions (+Vulpes) With a Top F!Courier

➼ Word Count » 0.7k ➼ Warnings » Misogyny, MDNI ➼ Genre » NSFW, Romantic ➼ A/N » UGHH top fems give me life, Nonnie, thank you

Boone loves being with a top in bed and has no problem allowing someone to take control of him during sex. Just as he's not much of a talker, he's also not always much of a dom. So, when he finds someone who can naturally take the lead, he's about ready to fall head over heels for them. Boone considers himself a switch, but he turns to putty whenever he can find a woman willing to take the initiative and boss him around. He has no issue being able to sit back and do as you command and would almost beg you to do so. It just feels natural to him, considering he's a veteran. Taking orders is what's familiar to him, and he has no issue admitting it.

Raul doesn't take you seriously at first. He just chuckles and goes along with what you're doing in more of a joking way, but he very quickly begins to understand that you're being genuine when you continue to order him around. It's a nice change of pace for the ghoul. The other times he's slept with a woman, it's usually him on top, so having this switch in roles is new for him and very welcomed. He follows along with your instructions easily. Whatever you need him to do, wherever you want him to be, he'll obey without much thought at all. In fact, he finds that he likes being with someone a bit more dominant than he is. Mostly because it means he can probably just lay there while you have your way with him (he's old, give him a break).

Cass has mixed feelings on the matter. On the one hand, she loves that she's finally met someone who can match her more firey personality, but on the other, she wants to be the one in charge. You'll have to wrestle with her for a bit before either of you can take on the dominant role for that night. It's a bit hit or miss with her as she can be very determined when it comes to things like this, but if you manage to pin her down hard enough, you should be able to have your way with her. Another thing to note, Cass loves it rough and wouldn't mind if you decided you needed to put her in a couple feet of rope to keep her still. Just a thought.

Veronica doesn't mind. In fact, she kinda likes having a more dominant partner. Being in a submissive role makes her feel more feminine, and if you can get her while she's in a dress, she'll be even more excited and willing to obey. One thing about Veronica is that she's a talker, especially during sex, and she's never against a bit of teasing or gagging to get her to quiet down. In fact, they go a long way when trying to get her off. She's more than willing to be put in her place and would do whatever was commanded of her, especially if you called her pretty while you did so.

Vulpes hates it. He wants to be the one in control, especially during sexual encounters. So, when he has to fight you for dominance, he gets a little pissed off. Not only does he find it to be incredibly disrespectful, but he deems it to go against the 'natural order' of things. Vulpes is a strong believer in the idea that women should be subservient and obedient to the men in their lives and will make it very clear to you how he feels. He'll bite you and try to overpower you, but if you tug his hair hard enough, there's a chance you'll be able to gain the upper hand in the situation and finally get him to relax into a more submissive role. Truthfully, though, he doesn't mind it all that much. He just doesn't like allowing a woman to order a man around. He thinks it's wrong, but as long as you keep quiet about this interaction, he will too.

[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.

[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. 

[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.

[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.

[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

[nightingaelic]

Reactions to a vampire courier? Companions plus Benny, Ulysses, Graham, House, Caesar, and Yes Man. (sorry if that's too many :x)

TW: Blood (maybe obviously)

Also I don't normally feel some type of way about AUs but the idea of Joshua Graham encountering a vampire courier is giving me shivers

The courier was a little... strange. Not in any way that stood out to the average wastelander just by looking at them, everyone in the Mojave had their quirks and the courier was no exception. Hell, you get shot in the head and come back, you're bound to have a screw or two loose. They were unquestionably a night owl, but so were half the people on the Strip, who only started to wake up after the sun had gone down and the slot machines were singing their loudest. They usually had bags under their bloodshot eyes, but every caravan driver from here to the Hub was short on sleep.

On the other hand, the courier had some habits that were a little beyond surface-level eccentricities. For one, no one had ever seen them eating, not once. Even when the King laid out a spread of pre-war snacks and liquor or when the buffet at the Tops was refreshed, they politely declined and took a swig from the canteen that they never offered to anyone else. They were also rather odd about bathrooms, insisting that anyone accompanying them remain outside on watch and let no one else through the door until they were finished. But the undeniable moment of oddity came one night in October, when their companion rounded a corner in Freeside after a trip to the Atomic Wrangler and discovered the courier behind a rusted dumpster, holding a man against a brick wall with their teeth buried in his neck.

The courier drew back at the interruption, blood smeared across their face. "I'm not- it's not what- he- oh, fuck."

Arcade Gannon: Arcade stared open-mouthed for a moment, before snapping violently back into the present. "Is he dead?"

"Umm..." The courier glanced at the man they were holding, whose head was lolling against the bricks. "Yes? Mostly."

With no patient to resuscitate, Arcade rounded on them. "Six, what in the ever-loving fuck are you doing?"

The courier tried to wipe away the blood that was dribbling from their chin, but they only succeeded in spreading it up their jawline. "Well, I, um, I was trying to..."

Whatever excuse they were searching for eluded them, so they dropped the pretense. "I was feeding, Arcade."

"Feeding? What, like some kind of-" Arcade's eyes widened and he cut his sentence off early in realization. "No. No way. That's not- vampires aren't real!"

That earned him a look of intense skepticism. "Arcade, we've fought off plant monsters and rattlesnake-coyote hybrids together. I have a gun in my pack that lets me teleport."

"Oh, okay, so you have some kind of iron deficiency and you're delusional." Arcade laughed, the sound high and harsh in the quiet alley. "Great. Fuck."

Craig Boone: Rather than engage in an abandoned alley, Boone immediately backtracked to a busier street. He was unsurprised when the courier didn't follow him: Even in Freeside, someone covered in blood was sure to be noticed and questioned.

Boone left town that night and made for Novac. He was pretty sure the courier would follow him, but he didn't know where else to go. At least he knew they were coming. A few people in Novac asked about where he'd been, what the courier was up to, but eventually they stopped asking.

A couple of weeks went by. Boone was on the night shift again when the door into the dinosaur swung open to reveal the courier. He'd heard someone coming, their feet on the stairs, and he already had his gun pointed in their face. "We will never work together again," he said, before they could open their mouth.

"Boone, can you just-"

"I don't want an explanation." Boone shook his head. "I don't need one. I already did you a favor, leaving New Vegas without putting you back in your grave. This is over."

The courier took a deep breath. "71."

"What?"

"71. I've killed 71 Legion soldiers and left their bodies empty under the Mojave sky." They looked down and shuffled their feet. "I've tasted their fear. They're more scared of me than the Burned Man, now."

Boone studied them. Ever so slowly, he lowered his gun.

Lily Bowen: "Put him down, dearie," Lily chastised them. "You're playing too roughly with that man. And watch your language around your grandma!"

The courier looked down at their victim, at their torn throat and limp limbs. "He tried to mug me, Lily. It wasn't pretty."

"He looks like he's had enough," Lily insisted. "Set him down. Gently."

With a sigh, the courier obliged and lowered the man to the ground. "I'm sorry, Lily. I should have told you earlier. I don't mean to be rude when I turn down your cooking, I just... I can't seem to..."

"Hush, now." Lily produced her enormous handkerchief and gathered the courier up in her arms, dabbing at the blood on their face with a corner of the cloth. "You've gotten it all over yourself, haven't you? We can clean that right up, but it looks like Grandma's going to have to do a load of laundry. You made the mess, so you get to help."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul swallowed nervously, something he'd noticed he was increasingly doing around the courier. "You know, we get murciélagos down in Arizona that do the same thing. They won't leave the brahmin alone."

The courier took in his anxious stance and sighed. "Raul, I'm not going to hurt you. Prometo. It's okay."

"Sure boss, but I don't think the hair on the back of my neck is going down anytime soon." Raul smiled, but it was more of a grimace. "Or it wouldn't, if I still had any. Como..?"

"No clue." The courier shrugged and held their hands up, letting the corpse they'd been holding slide to the ground. "I think it had something to do with me surviving Benny's best attempts to do me in, but a bullet is a bullet and I don't remember if I was like this before, or..."

"Or only after." Raul chuckled. "Jesucristo, and here I am thinking I'll outlive you like most everyone else I've known."

"Yep."

"Should I start calling you el chupacabra?"

The courier grinned, a bloody smile with sharp teeth.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Fuck," Cass echoed, scrambling to pull her shotgun from its holster. "Knew I had too much, can't even- who are you and what've you done with the courier? Some kind of cannibal, wearing their skin? Alien? Shapeshifter? I'll blow a hole in your liver to match mine!"

"Whoa, Cass, it's me, it's me!" The courier dropped the man they were holding and held their blood-stained hands up. "Same old Six, just... maybe I wasn't straight with you about why I don't order anything at bars."

"Goddamn right you weren't straight with me!" Cass gestured at the body on the ground with the barrel of her gun. "Who's the fucker on the floor and why are you two pints in on him?"

"Just trying to get my drink on," the courier muttered.

Cass repaid this facetiousness with a jab of her shotgun, and they raised their hands higher. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! You tell me, how do you tactfully tell someone that you're a creature of the night and you need to drink blood to survive?"

"Creature of the night? You're fucking loopy." Cass' eyes narrowed. "There's plenty of critters in the Mojave that only come out when it's dark, but most of them don't tear into..."

She trailed off into curses when she realized she was wrong. The courier smiled hesitantly and lowered their hands an inch. "Hey. Let me chuck this failed mugger in the dumpster and we can talk about it like a pair of civilized folks?"

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica squeaked and fell back a few steps, banging her elbow against the edge of the dumpster. A jolt of confused pain shot up her arm, and the Scribe couldn't help giggling harshly at the sudden assault on her funny bone.

"Not- laughing... at murder," she managed to get out between hisses of pain. "Oh, for the love of... right, you're not getting out of explaining what you are, exactly, just because I'm indis-indisposed!"

The courier couldn't help laughing at the squirming Scribe, but they did their best to stifle it. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I um... I guess I don't really know... what I am?"

"There's books!" Veronica burst out, pointing at the courier and their victim wildly. "I've seen them, in old libraries. Creatures that feed on blood, only come out at night, don't show up in... in mirrors, of course, no wonder you're weird about bathrooms, I should test... Dracula! That's it, you're a Dracula!"

"A Dracula?" The courier held their hands up, as if seeing them anew. "Never heard of them. Are they... bad?"

"Well, traditionally, yes." Veronica made a face and rubbed her elbow. "Black cloaks, sleeping in coffins, seducing and manipulating everyone around them... and people don't like it when you take their blood, in my experience."

"Whose blood have you taken?"

"This isn't about me, Six!"

ED-E: The eyebot bobbed wildly and made noises of concern, blips and blats and a flat burst of trumpets from some old jazz tune.

"I was hungry," the courier protested. "And this asshole pulled a knife on me and wanted all of my caps. Probably more than that, if we're being honest. He wasn't doing the world any good, but he did me some, for sure."

ED-E flipped between old clips of a Silver Shroud radio show. "Well, isn't this a deep, dark <static> secret? <static> In a situation such as this, the best anyone can do is <static> try to control it!" The robot added some more concerned beeps for good measure.

"I'm trying," the courier said with a sigh, looking down at the dead man they were holding. "You know I wouldn't hurt some random person, ED-E. Not if I could help it. The Mojave's full of bad people, enough to keep me going if I'm careful."

Rex: The hair on Rex's spine stood up, and he let out a long, low growl. The courier froze for a moment, before realizing that he was growling not at them but at the man they were holding.

"He's dead, Rex," they reassured the cyberdog, lowering the corpse to the floor for inspection.

Rex sniffed the body over, taking in the copper scent of his blood and the Freeside stink on his clothes. He sniffed the courier too, each of their hands they held out to him and the thick headiness of adrenaline. He whined and wagged his tail twice.

"Good boy," the courier said, straightening up. "It's about time I turned in, anyway. Let's dump this guy and split."

Benny Gecko: Benny crossed his arms. "You know, Six, if you're dead set on getting your kicks in Freeside every now and then, you might want to ease up on the passions with the next greaser you snag. This one's torn all to pieces."

"I wasn't- what kind of-" The courier dropped the man they were holding and sputtered. "Christ, only you could make a midnight murder awkward, Benny."

"Murder?" Benny raised his eyebrows and looked from side to side theatrically. "Who said anything about a murder? All I saw was some dreamboat and the best apple butterer of New Vegas playing back alley bingo, officer."

The courier's eyes narrowed. "Not gonna rat me out? Tell the King or somebody that I'm..."

"What, taking a page out of the White Glove Society's book?" Benny held his hands up. "None of my business. Well, if you ever come for me with that look in your eyes, though, that'll be a different story."

"Not much you'd be able to do," the courier pointed out. "You already tried and failed to kill me once."

Ulysses: Rather than react like any normal wastelander might've upon encountering someone attacking a man with their teeth, Ulysses just stood there, taking the scene in. "Heard tales of a tribe like you. East, farther east than even I've walked... a coven hiding in tunnels, emerging only when their hungers grow too strong to ignore, strong enough to pull blood from the veins of the world around them."

"Well, I don't hide in tunnels." The courier grimaced and heaved their victim up over their shoulder, depositing them unceremoniously in the dumpster. "Unless some disgruntled Frumentarius sends me out to hunt mutants under Hopeville."

"Perhaps you have more in common with those predators than I assumed," Ulysses admitted. "But then, your path has always run red. Blood of the Old World, blood of the new, blood of the Bull and the Bear..."

The courier rolled their eyes as they peeled off their red-stained coat and tossed it in the dumpster as well. "Don't talk to me about blood. I know you've seen just as much as me, but it doesn't mean the same thing when I look at it."

Ulysses cracked a hint of a smile. "You see life where I see death. Two sides, courier."

"Yeah, yeah. If you're not going to try to kill me, come on. You can wax poetic and lecture me about which road I'm walking while I take a shower."

Joshua Graham: "A creature far from God," Graham said in his most reproachful tone. "Forever damned for the souls of the innocent they've taken from the earth. Aren't we a pair, courier."

"You can fuck right off with that attitude." The courier dropped the man they were holding and wiped their hands on their coat. "He tried to kill me first. For some caps."

"The crimes of others do not absolve you of your own sins, courier," Graham continued, leisurely retrieving his gun from its holster. He held it up in the muted neon light that filtered through the alley, turning the weapon this way and that. "Though I confess I am also looking for absolution in this way."

"Are you going to kill me?" the courier asked, eyeing the gun as well.

"I've no doubt it would leave this world better than when you walked it," Graham replied. "But my own opinions are not enough to seal your fate. Perhaps we should find this man's family and hear their feelings on the matter."

The courier took a step forward, then another, until their chest was right up against the pistol's muzzle, pressed against the fabric of their shirt. "Go ahead. Try."

And though Joshua Graham was sorely tempted to pull the trigger, though the courier made no move to stop him, something in their eyes... some faraway pain, older than the desert itself, fresh as the blood on the ground, stayed his hand.

He lowered the gun, chastised, and the courier walked away.

Robert House: The Securitron that bore Robert House's face on its screen leveled a minigun at the courier. "Whoa!" the courier protested, dropping their victim and putting their hands out. "Can't we talk about this?"

"And what have we to discuss?" House sounded absolutely disgusted. "I believe you're familiar with my contract with the White Glove Society. If they wish to continue their current prosperity in New Vegas, cannibalism is strictly forbidden. You are subject to the same terms and conditions, as one of my employees."

"Terms and condi- hold on, hold on, you never asked me whether I was a cannibal," the courier replied. "Are you talking about that document you had me sign, way back when I agreed to help you fight the NCR and the Legion?"

"The very same."

"How is that fair? That thing was over 200 pages long, I didn't grow up in the 21st century, I don't have a degree in... okay, okay." The courier waved their hands. "Cannibalism is a no-go. This isn't cannibalism, this is vampirism."

"Which falls under the definition of cannibalism," House replied, his annoyed tone still detectable over the sound of the minigun spinning up. "Section 3.65, subsection F. Next time, read the fine print."

Caesar: The Legion's great leader pivoted in an instant from surprise to quiet anger. "Clean yourself up, courier. I expect to see you in my quarters within the hour."

He turned and left the alley swiftly, letting his powerful stride and swinging cloak cover his shaken confidence. The people of Freeside cowered as he passed, shrinking into the shadows as he made his way back to the Strip, but the fear in their eyes was not enough to erase the image of the courier bent over in bloodlust, holding their victim in total subjugation.

The courier found him on the top floor of the Lucky 38, gazing out over the city he had conquered and named his Rome. "Leave us," Caesar bid his Praetorian Guard. They bowed and departed the room without question.

"You asked to see me," the courier said nervously, shifting their weight from foot to foot. They had changed clothes, and no trace of blood remained on them.

"I did." Caesar beckoned them to the window next to him. They stood in silence for a moment, watching the lights wink below.

"I'm a well-read man, courier," Caesar said finally. "I know the legends of the Old World, and I recognize the marks of one of their nightmares in you. I order you to tell me the truth: Do you fit the full definition of the creature they called 'vampire,' or do you simply mimic the things to add to your fearsome affect?"

The courier didn't answer right away. When they did, their voice was soft. "I pretend to be nothing. I am what I am."

"And everything that comes with it?" Caesar pressed. "Darkness, the blood of the innocent, eternity?"

"Yes."

Caesar turned to face them fully. "Then I, Almighty Caesar, command you to make me as you are."

Yes Man: "Now that's a twist I didn't see coming!" Yes Man said, his happy tone only slightly tempered with uncertainty. "Boy, am I glad I don't have a circulatory system right now!"

The courier shushed the Securitron and looked around the alley surreptitiously. "Yes Man, I swear to god, if you blow my cover I'm disassembling you."

"As I've told you before, I can't technically die!" Yes Man reassured them. "And I certainly wouldn't want to endanger you and your hobbies, but my volume mixer is tied to my enthusiasm simulator and I can't adjust it! You'll just have to hope any passersby aren't interested in following my friendly voice into an alley!"

"Then go back to the Lucky 38 and we'll talk later," the courier insisted, through gritted teeth.

"I technically never left! But if you mean this Securitron, sure thing!" Yes Man zoomed away on his single wheel, whistling the whole way back to the casino where the rest of his consciousness was housed. He kept whistling as he ran probability algorithms, only pausing when the courier returned after a few hours and crossed their arms in front of his main screen.

"Hi there!" he said joyfully. "I've just been cross-checking Mr. House's records on noteworthy disappearances in the Strip, and I've flagged eight of them as potentially being connected to you! I don't want to assume your intentions, but if you don't want to be found out, I've developed a plan for choosing your next victims that will help you remain undetected in New Vegas for 184 years! Give or take a few!"

The courier put their head in their hand and sighed.

[katerix]

(How old is New Vegas? And it’s still my fav part! I feel like I need more Raul content even after all these years🥺)

Drink with the living dead

Characters: Raul Tejada x Reader Summary:  Courier and her companion returned to New Vegas after a long wandering to get a drink and gamble, but faced serious inhospitality. Six was not ready to leave her friend behind, so they changed their plans. Warnings: - Words: 2781

***

It was almost half past midday, when a dusty dirty road to New Vegas welcomed the wanderers with just another sandstorm without any declaration of war. Courier’s mirror aviator sunglasses could hardly stand that gusts of winds, so she decided to hide it in the pocket of her jacket until the better times. Six and her ghoul-companion were on foot for nearly five hours, and now the hightower of «Lucky 38» looked huge in contradiction from its look an hour ago.

It was not their first visit to New Vegas, but every time she saw a glowing and sparkling casino’s signs, she was bringing up the idea of going there and wasting an evening gambling and drinking. Just like everyone does. The fact that she spent here some time, passing all the entertaining places by, met with Mr. House and performed several missions for NCR ambassador, but still never took a break to try some of those things, these poor fellows from all Mojave wasteland were arriving for - was a crime by its definition.

Coddling this thought, Courier continued to trudge the nasty weather, until they walked up to the Northern gates of Freeside.

- What’s the plan when we reach Strip, boss? - asked Raul, shaking his dull-green jumpsuit down: it all was full of pervasive grains of sand, as well as the girl’s clothes.

- At first I wanna visit the «Lucky 38» apartment and change the outfit, then go to the bar and win big in the kazino!

- Perfect plan, chief, ironclad like my revolver. - the ghoul was sarcastic as usual, but didn’t evince any sight of disagreement.

When she turned around to continue movement, he added: “Wait, amigo, there's a tuft of straw stuck under your collar.” - and carefully extracted an annoying piece of flora, stuck to during the storm.

“Gracias!” - Six smiled widely and made a fast gesture of gratitude with her hand. Without wasting time, they passed heavy metallic gates.

Freeside met companions with a funky, stinking smell. She still couldn't get used to it. Dusty air seemed to mar the cityscape: it looked much pale and lighter than from the outside. Just fifteen minutes and they’ll reach the destination. The picture couldn’t be called unusual for this time of the day in this part of town: one or two shabby hobos against the dingy walls, kids in wrecked clothes playing a tag-game in the area of the «Mick & Ralph's», random citizens with roving glances, sneaking around, wasting their time in an idle attempts to figure out how to spend their life in this Dump. On the other hand, there are many places where people live even worse: take a look at Westside, for instance.

«What a hopeless sight, - thought the girl. - Hope the Followers are really able to do something about this in the future».

- Something on your mind, boss? - it felt like nothing could hide from Raul’s inquisitive look.

- Just thinking. I find this picture quite dismal, like there’s no tomorrow, and humanity is still doomed. Like there’s no chance to restore life, as it was before.

- When we are on the road again, I’ll tell you about the Football Cup in Mexico, if you like to hear another one “before the Bomb” story. - he obviously picked up on her mood and decided to cheer up the girl, carefully diverting the theme.

- I do. Have you attended it?

- Sure thing. That was a big day. We drove to the capital to see it with our own eyes.

- Sounds pretty good! Let’s not ruin the intrigue.

- You asked.

They passed a small cross-road, which didn't have to be called like that anymore, as it was just one of the ghosts of the past with it’s burned skeletons of cars, left here motionless as evidence of human lost ambitions. The air in this part of the town was stale, despite the fact that they were in the streets, the smell of some broiling meat and spoiled vegetables was sticky like an ant's nectar. Sudden wild cryings and shouts were heard from the nearest dead end. 

One glance was enough to understand that the Kings had cornered swashers, their prey, who were too fucked up and all-fired sure of themselves to attack the town’s main showrunners just a couple of minutes ago. And the Courier was not going to do anything about that: she herself was nearly butchered by one of them, shown up from nowhere. If it was not her loyal companion who dealt with it with one precise shot, she, probably, would be dead by now.

It took more than ten minutes to cover the distance between the East and Strip gates - right now there was no reason to hurry. As they got closer, the protectrons took up their positions immediately. One of them articulated “Move along” with a familiar metallic cold of lifeless voice of his, when companions were passing by.

“Never liked these guys. They are like slow mines: you never know what they do the next second.” - grunted out the Courier, as two of them found themselves on the first line of the Strip between “Lucky 38” and “Gomorrah”.

“Hey, so who is an old one here?” - the ghoul chuckled in response.

She went ahead, so he could never see how her lips slightly bended in a ready-to-laugh smile.

***

Presidential luxe met nomads with a deep, wrapping silence of a broad, gloomy space. This was definitely not the place a person could wish to stay in: walls with, once being gorgeous - now - greasy dark-wine wallpapers were giving an oppressive feeling. Six was happy that they didn’t have to stay here for long. Only to sleep or change the outfit maybe.

She got near to the wardrobe in her room, where the majority of things, accumulated during the long travels, were stored. Took out two dresses, went to the guest-room with a billiards. Raul was civilly waiting for her there.

- What you think? Which one?

He raised up his head, looked from under the sunglasses for several seconds, examining, and answered in a casual tone:

- It’s really up to you, boss. - made a pause, then added, like a little confused: - But I like the pink one. Might look graceful.

- Great! Exactly the one I wanted to pick.

The ghoul just gave her a hesitant nod, wondering if she noticed that detail. Courier went back to her sleeping-room and returned after some minutes, informing: “Ready to go! The next stop is “Ultra-Luxe”, yee-haw!”

***

After a while they were in the street again. All they needed was just to reach the second line of the Strip and pass a hundred meters to the “Ultra-Luxe”. Lots of NCR soldiers were hanging around, goofing off, as long as they had a chance, and indulging in lust in the nearest private clubs. Nothing unexpectable. When they passed by a small group of drunk, barely balancing on their feet big guys, Six suddenly heard a hushed voice from behind her back, addressing his teammates. “Do they let ghouls on the Strip now? Perfect, let’s make it a spooky ghost-town.”

“Yeah. That’s why civilization will start floating away again. Our attempts are meaningless.”

Only just Courier wanted to turn around and shout out something to those sons of a b or event take out a gun and shoot beneath their feet, Raul caught her arm:

- Hey, hey, calm down, that’s okay. NCRs are many here, you know, even for a dashing rider like you, boss. Even with me backing you up. From behind the farthest stone.

- But we can’t simply swallow that shit, Raul!

He just spreaded his hands:

- Fine, then go shoot them and be killed by protectrones because of two drunk idiots. Very helpful, chief. I’ll stay all alone, without my beloved companion but with a protected pride. Thank’s.

Six stood still for some seconds and nodded after that.

- Fine. Whatever.

Then merely continued walking in the direction of the cazino. The ghoul hesitated for a bit. He understood that she was acting out of good intentions and she just wanted to protect her partner, as she was the one who had a right of speech here. And that made his heart melt and he was silently praising her for that, because nobody seemed to do anything like that for him in a while. But picking a fight with these dummies, who fill the streets of Strip like water fills the canyon, was not wise.

“Sorry for that, Niña. I really appreciate what you do. I just don’t want you to get in trouble because of me. You don’t notice, but there are often lots of sidelong looks and hardly heard whisperings along the way. I'm used to it and don’t want it to affect you.” - he tried to lighten things up.

The girl turned her head a bit just for him to see her glance softening.

- Let’s just reach the bar and relax.

*** 

An unexpected trouble struck them further - black line has not ended yet. Courier already picked her place at the bar desk in the distant hall and ordered a glass of whiskey, when a bartendress leaned over and said in a low tone:

“I’m sorry, but here, in “Ultra-Luxe”, we serve only the citizens and guests of the Strip. I’m able to bring a drink only for you, ma’m.”

That was the last drop of her patience. The girl slowly raised her head at the bartendress, ready to blow up, and responded:

- Are you fucking kidding me?

- That’s the rule. I don’t need problems. You can ask any guard or another worker.

She bowed her head and gave a fast hidden glance at her ghoul-companion. He was sitting there next to her and looking straight at his arms crossed on the desk, like he had nothing to do with it. But he, of course, heard every word. His eyes weren't moving, just a finger was slightly knocking the air, producing a rhythm he alone knew. Six couldn’t even imagine what her friend might feel at the moments like that. An anger came upon her.

“Are you all that scumbags here? Keep your drinks for acceptable ones. Ma’m.” - the girl said, getting up from her barstool and heading towards the exit.

Raul stood up without a word and, as he always did, followed Courier. He had mixed emotions. On the one hand he was glad they left that place and that Six is such a kind and loyal partner, but on the other hand he felt a little guilty for himself. After all, it was him who was the reason for such inhospitality in some kind of place. Even now she couldn’t get what she wished for so hard. Her idea of “winning big” in the kazino seemed to be falling apart, as together they won’t be even let to the gambling table. And she, obviously, won’t leave him in the street and have fun on her own, and an old ghoul didn’t want to be a ball and chain.

- Boss? Are you sure we need to leave? Maybe you’d better stay there? And I’d wait for you somewhere else or go back to “Lucky 38”. Fresh air won’t do any harm for my old lungs.

- What are you even talking about? You know, even the best drink worth nothing, if there’s no one to share it with.

- You have a heart of gold, chiff. - these words came fast, in an undertone, as if he was embarrassed, - Well, I saw a small sign in Freeside. I believe we’ve never been in that part of the city before.

- Hope it’s not an «Atomic Wrangler».

- Nope.

- Great! You lead. They passed the ruins, generously spread all over the suburbs, while every their step sounded louder thanks to trash, small pieces of brick and other rubbish. The sun was already going down and the heat was getting less intense.

Finally they reached a small inconspicuous wooden door. Only a little sign next to it represented that place as a bar.

As they entered, nothing changed. There was not much to be changed. There were no crowds of gamblers, no fancy casino machines and no shiny-polished bar desk. Bartender was a man in old ragged clothes, probably in his late fifties. He was slowly wiping cut glasses with a gray dusty piece of fabric full of holes.

When the companions stepped in the room he just looked up at them without raising up his head and got back to his plain, simple activity. There were not many customers besides the two of them. A woman was sleeping on the table in the far corner - her head rested on her arms while her shoulders were calmly going up and down. Another guest settled down at the edge of the bar desk.

“Fancy,” - giggled the girl.

“Ah, let’s get down. Ladies first.” - Raul just waved his hand.

Six made a few steps in the direction of the bar desk and sat down, Raul followed her.

“Barman! Two beers, please”. - she laid some bottle caps in front of him.

The barkeeper took them and then put two opened bottles onto the surface.

“Bon appetit.”

Courier took her bottle up and clinked it loudly with Rauls one. His soft non-blinking sight of half closed eyes was locked on hers, while he made a sip. His heart always went pop when it felt like there were just two of them in the world, though he never showed that.

Raul looked around and suddenly his eyes stopped on a guitar lurked behind the racks.

“Hey, can I…?”

The barman followed ghoul’s gaze and shrugged his shoulders: “This piece of wood? Be my guest.”

In the next second he was on his feet. The courier raised her eyebrows as she almost forgot if she saw him that agile. Raul approached the metal shelves, put aside some garbage and waste paper, then carefully extracted the instrument and blew away the dust.

Six and the bartender were watching him closely. The ghoul got back to his chair, sat down crossing his legs to position the guitar more comfortably. Then pulled the first string to check out the tuning. It was no surprise that it was out of tune, so the next minute Raul spent trying to fix the instrument.

When everything, as he thought, was ready, he played a couple of notes in fingerstyle to flex some life back into his fingers. After nearly 200 years the skill was obviously weakened.

“I didn’t know that you could play the guitar.” - said the girl.

“Sure you didn’t. I never told about that.” - he looked back at her with a little smirk, - “What was the point if there were no music instruments left anyway?”

He laid his right arm down on the body of the guitar, fingers on the cracked wooden surface, and took a deep breath.

At first Courier could hardly hear or see the slightest movement of ghoul's fingers on strings, but soon the sound became more clear. She was sitting there with a bottle in her hand, unable to look away from her companion.

The sound of slow mexican melody floated across the room, filling every corner of the room with itself. The windows were closed with wooden boards from the outside, so the sunlight was trickling down through narrow gaps between them. Warm light was leaving gold-yellow lines on the walls, tables and the bardesk where the Courier and Raul were sitting. She could even see the tiniest specks of dust freeze in the air. The ghouls face was half hidden by a shadow and the sunbeams were highlighting one of his eyes which now looked like a beautiful transparent crystal and his hands all covered with veins and partially with thin skin.

The whole space imbued with peace and calm, even the impenetrable bartender set his glass aside and leaned his head on the hand, listening to the sensual music.

They travelled together for a while now, but never before had Six seen him the way she did now. Something new was arising in her soul.

“Hey chief,” - Raul closed his eyes and slightly threw back his head grinning a little, fingers still dancing over the strings. - ”You’re the best friend and partner one could ever wish for, you know. Thank you for always being on my side.”

“Raul, I’ll never leave my partner in crime behind!” - she chuckled as she felt like something pinned her heart.

The ghoul continued playing the tune without opening his eyes. A grin turned into a soft smile and the feeling of joy span all over him for the first time in a while.

“I’m following you to the world’s end, boss.”

Also, here’s a link to this fanfic on my AO3 (gif is mine \ use credits if repost)