This is a series of one shots from Fallout 3, Fallout New Vegas, and Fallout 4. I do not own any of the characters, of course.
All One Shots are in alphabetical order for your convenience.
Anything with an ➵ and a title has been reread, and (hopeful...
Victor Fallout New Vegas Warning: Lightly Suggestive
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The man in front of me moved his cowboy hat to the back of his head, looking at the dusty clouds taking over the distant sky, "Reckon there'll be a storm. You got somewhere to stay the night? Ain't gon' be any travellin' weather anytime soon."
His accent was transferred to his synth body, and it was something I could really get into. I shrugged, "I'll just stay with Doc Mitchell. He has an extra bed anyways."
Victor frowned, "Yeah, but he don't know how to show a pretty thing like yourself how to have a good time, now does he? Shoot, why don't you sleep at my place tonight."
I blushed, "Are you being serious?"
"Serious as the heat on the sun. Of course, it's all up to your mindin' of it and whatnot." He looked back to the storm, hooking his thumbs through his belt and resting them there, "Better choose quick. Won't be a choice soon."
I looked to the dark brown clouds, "Yeah, I don't mind sticking around with you."
We went to the small shack he'd shaped up to be a home. He really fixed the place up. We walked in, and he immediately took his hat off, his brown bangs falling over his tan forehead as he hung the cowboy hat on a small rack by the door. He put the toe of one boot to the heel of the other, sliding them off and recommending I do the same with my shoes. I did so, locking the door so the rough winds wouldn't blow it open. I looked around the one-room complex, blushing at the sight of only one bed, but quickly shifting my gaze so he wouldn't notice.
He retrieved a carton of cigarettes from his back pocket, flipping it open and holding it out to me. I declined and he took one out, holding it in his mouth and lighting it before snapping his lighter shut and tossing it onto a desk. I watched with interest as he unbuttoned the red flannel shirt he was wearing and slid it off, revealing the clean white t-shirt he wore under it. He noticed my unmoving gaze and smiled, speaking with his cigar between his lips as he hung his shirt up, "What're you starin' at me like that for? Like that I don't have the build of a damn vendin' machine?"
"Well, it's definitely a nice change... But I'm wondering how thirsty those scientists must have been to give you a body like this."
"Well, it's all thanks to you, darlin'. You and that way of words."
I blushed, sliding my jacket off and hanging it below the hook wielding his hat. There was a loud clash outside and my hand immediately went to my holster and I whipped around towards the sound. From behind, I felt a rough hand over mine, moving it away from the gun, "Just thunder. Got an itchy trigger finger, don't you? Don't worry, nobody in their right mind will be out tonight. Gonna be rough."
I wasn't a huge fan of storms. Rain was fine. Irradiating, but the sound was pleasing. Thunder and lighting though? No. How could you not worry about it? One bolt strikes this place, we're literal toast. It didn't help that the shack was almost completely made of metal. Better than it being made of wood and having the water ruin it. I asked for the time, and Victor looked to a clock across the room and gave a displeasing answer. I sighed, "I gotta get to bed. Got a busy day tomorrow, if the storm decides not to stick around."
He walked behind a column, changing from his jeans, "Shoot... well, I best be goin' down too then. Don't really need sleep, but it's a good way to reset my... protocols or whatever they call 'em."
Scratching the back of his head, he walked to his fridge in black underwear and his loose white tank-top. Instinctly, I looked away, face red. I took my armor off and changed into comfortable clothes I had in my bag. I sat on the bed, not looking as he turned the light off. I lay down and soon felt his chest press to my back. My breath hitched and he chuckled, "Damn, where are my manners? You want me to sleep on the floor, darlin'? I don't mind."
"No- it's... it's fine."
He kept his chest to my back, an arm thrown over my waist calmly. He did it like it was natural, but I felt like I couldn't breath. There was another jolt of thunder and I jumped slightly, my muscles tensing and refusing to calm. Victor raised his head up, "What's the matter? Want me to move?"
"What? No, it's not that. I'm just not a big fan of storms."
"Oh, well in that case..."
He grabbed my hand, telling me to turn around. Blushing, I did so, now having my head under his. He rested his chin atop my head, wrapping his arms around me comfortingly, his thumb rubbing my upper arm sweetly. I curled up into a ball, loving the scent of the mechanical cowboy; smoke and leather. Two things he was very fond of.
From then on out, any jolt of thunder didn't shake me. I couldn't imagine why. Maybe it was because Victor just had such an effect on me that I could ignore the thunder, or perhaps it was because of his strength that I suddenly felt untouchable. No matter. Sleep came easy that night.
