Courier Six Fallout: New Vegas Warning: Smut/Lemon (This is just my Courier OC, for the most part, so don't be upset if it doesn't fit your idea of the Courier.)
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I looked across the room as a fight broke out nearby. I grinned at the bartender in front to me, "Put me down. Four two, against."
He pulled out a small notepad and wrote it down. A man in a duster next to me chuckled, "I wouldn't have thought you to be a gambling woman."
"We're on the Strip. Everyone here gambles. You puttin' in?"
He looked to the two men fighting and grinned, "Yeah. Seven bundles, for the little man."
The bartender scoffed, "Seven? Let's make it ten."
"Make it ten, then."
I chuckled and we both handed the man small bags of caps watching the fight play out. I won, naturally. I looked the man over, and he looked familiar. I might have seen him talking to Benny. He seemed to look me over the same way. I reached forward, dusting my fingers over his hair, which cow-licked forward. He frowned, not moving back, "The hell you doin', acting like my mom?"
I chuckled, giving up on smoothing his hair down, "Guess I ought to. Hair's everywhere, clothes have holes in them", I grinned, "You're losing money on easy bets."
He grinned, "You, uh... wanna grab a room?"
The bartender frowned, "You ought to, 'fore I kick you out for PDA."
I looked at him, studying his face, "Sure." I pulled my second room key from my bag, "Here. Third floor. Meet me there whenever you're ready."
He took the key, looking at the room number on it. He said he'd down another drink and meet me up there. I grinned, brushing my hand up his thigh, swiftly removing his wallet from his duster pocket with my other hand. I got to my room, throwing my bag into a corner and opening the mans wallet. In the spot where your ID would go, was a simple white paper with scribbled information on it. He wrote in all caps. His name was Atlas, he weighed 190, and was 5'9. He looked taller than that. I heard my door close, and I looked to see him leaning against it. I threw his wallet and it smacked him in the chest. He slid his duster off and it fluttered to the floor. He set his wallet on top of it.
He chuckled, "That tell you everything you need to know about me?"
"Not in the least. Is Atlas your real name?"
"The one my parents gave me, yeah. I didn't come up here for pleasant chat about my backstory, so let's just move this thing along."
He walked over to me, one hand cupping my jaw, the other resting on my hip. I looked to his lips and leaned in. He pulled away with a sly grin, "We ain't even to the bed yet."
"You're the one wanting to hurry things up."
He pushed his lips to mine, immediately pushing his tongue between my lips. Bold. I put my hands on his chest, working on unbuttoning the flannel, and sliding it off his shoulders. I pulled back, looking down at his chest, seeing purple, jagged scars. I hummed, "What's this?"
"Electrical burn scars."
"From what?"
He pulled back, a frown twisted on his lips, "Quit asking questions."
I hummed, a small smile on my lips as he pushed his lips to my neck. His hand tangled in my hair, craning my head backward. I felt my pulse against his lips, and he ran his tongue flatly over what would later be a hickey. The back of my knees hit the bed, and I sat down, him still standing. He pushed a hand to my shoulder, forcing me to lay down, without being too harsh. I pushed back against his hand for a moment before laying back comfortably. He chuckled, "You're not easy, are you?"
"Not usually."
He yanked my shirt off, throwing it aside, as it was the least of his concerns at the moment. My pants were next, and the sound of his belt unbuckling seemed to make things more real. He slid his belt through his pant loops, not even taking his old jeans off all the way. I could see his erection through his boxers, and could tell I'd be taking a decent hull. He stuck his thumbs in his waistband, pulling his boxers down to his knees with his pants. My thighs clenched and he moved between them. He pushed his lips to my shoulder gently, sliding his fingers into me with ease.
He pulled them out, and chuckled lowly, "And here I was, thinkin' you wouldn't be wet enough. You're full of surprises."
His voice was like molten rock, different from the more gentlemanly tone I'd known back at the bar. In response, I arched my back, pushing my chest to his, hungry for contact. He slid his fingers in and out of me a few times before lubing himself up with the pre-cum he'd drawn from me, and himself. He leaned over me, eyes bearing into mine, "You ready, babydoll?"
Unable to speak, I simply dug my nails into his tanned shoulder blades. He understood, and pushed himself in. The tip alone made me let out a moan. I moved my hips down hungrily, and he let out a growl, gripping my waist and keeping my waist pinned. One of my hands moved to the back of his head, tangling my fingers in his short hair and pulling him down to kiss me again. He pushed in more, working up a slow thrust to get us both used to the sensation. One of his hands moved from my hips, to my breast, kneading lightly, teasingly.
He let out a gruff moan, and his hips jutted roughly. His pace changed, and I cried out in pleasure. His lips moved to my collarbone, and I could feel his moans vibrate through my skin, which was becoming slick with sweat. I tangled my fingers in his hair, craning his head back so his eyes locked with mine. His brown eyes were glossed, and full of pathetic lust. He looked so needy, completely different from earlier.
His hips sped up, and his fingers moved to my clit, roughly circling the nerves. I raised my hips to his hand and he only pushed the pad of his finger down, the muscles in his arm jolting.
I felt a light, cooling sensation before my abdomen clenched. I heard myself let out a guttural moan, unable to hold it back. The walls of sexual tension came crashing down and I orgasmed around him, feeling my heat pulse. He gave one more deep thrust before pulling out and cumming on my lower stomach. He stepped back, putting his hands on top of his head, folding his fingers and catching his breath.
He sat at the edge of the bed, and I looked at the red crescents my nails had caused on his back. I sat up, putting a hand on his shoulder, and kissing his cheek, "I'll get you a whiskey."
He chuckled a little, "How about a water?"
I tossed him a bottle, and grabbed a carton of cigarettes, opening it and lighting a cigarette. He watched me curiously, "Y'know... You already know so much about me, how about you tell me a thing or two about you? I don't think I caught your name."
"You didn't." I chuckled, "Steal my wallet and maybe you'll find out."
