#Lucy MacLean x reader

[shaunamilfman]

you would find your way in

pairing: Lucy MacLean x Reader summary: The blight hit vault 32 hard, which is why it was such a big deal when a trade offer from vault 33 for new seeds was received. A sacrifice, on your part, was all that was needed to assure the prosperity of your home. You would leave everything you've ever known to marry the overseers daughter, Lucy MacLean, but maybe it wouldn't be as much of a sacrifice as you'd originally believed.  note: pretend they can have a test tube baby for the sake of the fic ♥️

You watch as the door separating the only home you’ve ever known, vault 32, slowly opens to reveal vault 33. You’re nearly sick with nerves, much as you’ve been the last few days. Nearly being the key word. You think she’s mostly excited about the feast after your marriage, not that you blame her much. You’d think the same way if you weren’t the one paying the price for it.

There’s not nearly enough food in the vault after the blight to be able to waste it on something as pointless as a wedding, after all. You can’t help but laugh at the figure next to you bouncing excitedly on her heels. She looks up at you at the sound, rolling her eyes as she realizes you're laughing at her.

“Shut up,” your sister mutters, feigning a glare as she looks back at the doors. “It’s awfully exciting, isn’t it?”

You hope your sister enjoys herself. She is, after all, the only reason you agreed to go through with this sham wedding in the first place. Even as anxious as you were at the uncertain future lying ahead of you, you were content in the knowledge that at least she’d be taken care of once you were gone.

Seeds and machinery parts, as you’ve reminded yourself over and over again since the deal was struck.

You knew arranged marriages were common enough even in your own vault, but you’d always held out hope that you’d be one of the lucky few that got to marry for love. You supposed you were marrying for love in a roundabout way, just not the way you pictured. Still, there were very few things you wouldn’t do for your sister’s health.

A bitter feeling comes over you, but you try to shake it off. It's not their fault we almost starved: the vault's stayed separate for a reason, after all. Only ever for one of the rare trades between us were the doors ever opened, and it made you a little bitter knowing that Lucy's lack of marriage options was deemed important enough, when your people nearly starving to death was apparently deemed an acceptable loss.

You watch the inhabitants of vault 33 curiously, slowly taking in the sight of what’s probably the only people you’ll see for the rest of your life. As much as you’ll miss your family and everyone back home, at least you’d get to hear new stories for a while. Living in such cramped quarters as you do, you tend to learn everything interesting there is about a person entirely too quickly.

At least that was something to look forward to for a time.

You weren’t told what Lucy looked like, but you think you’d be able to pick her out of a crowd even without the wedding dress she was wearing. She was breathtaking, as much as it annoyed you to admit. You suppose you could have gotten paired with a worse partner, all things considered. At least she was nice to look at, even as you hoped she’d make a better conversation partner than she looked like she’d make.

She was practically glowing with excitement, nervously shifting on her feet in a way that you found endearing despite yourself. You took a moment to take her in, wishing you felt as self righteously angry as you did just ten minutes ago.

Lucy smiles as they go through the introduction before interrupting, "So, which one of you is to be my wife?" 

There's a moment of silence before there's some muffled snickering from both sides. You could tell it had taken everything she had in her to hold off as long as she did, a fact that shouldn’t have made you grin as widely as you did. You wipe the grin off your face as you slowly step forward. Lucy gasps, a faint blush covering her face as she takes you in.

"I suppose that would be me," you say softly, stepping forward past your other vault mates to meet her. Your hand twitches as you start to hold your hand out for her to shake it before thinking better of it. 

Is that the kind of reaction you should have to meeting your wife for the first time? You weren’t quite sure. It was sort of like a business deal, so you decided it probably would have been appropriate, anyway. Before you have the chance to rectify your mistake, Lucy’s already grabbing at your arm, leading you further into the vault while talking incessantly.

Oh, great. She’s a talker.

You nod along to her explanations, hoping to seem nice even if your gaze held disdain hidden beneath a polite smile. You try to give her an appropriate amount of attention while scanning your new surroundings as surreptitiously as you could manage. You've always been the curious type, and it has gotten you into trouble more times than you could count. 

It wouldn't do to be accused of casing the place before your vault’s future could be secured. Besides, this was your home now. First impressions are hard, or so you’ve heard. It’s not like you’ve ever had the chance to make one, but that’s what your books always said. Luckily for you, this is the last time you'll ever have to do it, once more for your forever home.

“It's a really nice place,” Lucy says suddenly, startling you from your reverie. She gives you a knowing look as she gives the open room a quick once over before meeting your eyes again. 

You're pleasantly surprised that she's figured your game out so quickly. You incline your head in acknowledgement, choosing not to comment on the skip in her step as she notices your approval. 

“Maybe I could give you the grand tour after everything,” she offers. 

You give her a wry smile, appreciating the sentiment even if you find her reasoning a little dumb. Your vaults were built to be exact copies of each other, after all. There's very little difference between them beyond surface level decorations, you're quite sure. Still, it was an olive branch you were willing to accept.

"That'd be nice," you say simply, offering her your hand as you let her lead you up to the altar.

You take your place across from her, listening idly as her father drones on. Duty to humanity this, returning to the surface that. You're oddly comforted by the familiarity of the refrain: at least some things would never change. Did the overseers learn their speeches from the same book? Someone ought to write them a new one. 

You focus your attention on Lucy, really taking in the sight of her, as she's only all too happy to return it. You can't help but stand a little straighter under her attention, a surge of pride rushing through you at the pleased look on Lucy's face as her eyes roam your body. 

Your smile fades slightly at the sight of her in her wedding dress, a silent reminder of everything you're giving up to come here. You were never all that excited about having to wear the community wedding dress for your own ceremony, but at least it would have been something you shared with your mother.

Instead, you were left only in your jumpsuit, and even that you'd have to return by the end of the night. It was the issue with marrying outside of your vault, after all. Nothing was allowed to leave it, not even the clothes on your back. 

Resources were tight enough in normal times, but with everything going on… Well, you made do with what you were given. 

You shake off your feeling of melancholy, returning Lucy's smile with a smaller, more forced one of your own. The least you could do is give your wife your full attention on her wedding day. 

Lucy's hands are warm as she reaches for yours, entwining your fingers together as she speaks her vows. You repeat the lines you've long since memorized, giving them special care as you speak them, if only for Lucy's sake. 

Lucy's eyes sparkle with happiness, looking as if it was everything she could do not to jump up and down in excitement. It was flattering, a lot more than you cared to admit. It's been quite a while since someone looked that excited to see you. 

Her smile is wide enough that you start to wonder if it hurts, but if it bothers her, it doesn't slow her down for a second as she moves forward to kiss you. You can feel her smile against your lips, never dimming for a second as she seals the deal. 

Your eyes are wide as she pulls away, a little lost as your thoughts jumbled together. Her lips were soft, at least. And she smells nice. You were embarrassed to find that the kiss had left you a little dumb, but you figured Lucy would have that effect on anyone. 

You can feel the thrum of her heartbeat where she's pressed up against you, her face resting in the crook of your neck as she throws her arms around you in a tight hug. Her cheeks are flushed with excitement, warm against your skin as she bounces on the tips of her toes.

She pulls away after a moment, still holding your hands together as she leads you down from the altar. You're happy to follow her lead, drunk on a feeling of levity you'd become unfamiliar with lately. 

There’s a small part of you, larger than you’re willing to admit, that wants to pull her into another kiss, but you restrain yourself. Out of everything you’d worried about, the thought of seeming too forward on your wedding day was not one of them.

“You’re really good at that,” she confesses in a whisper, verging on shy as she rests her head on your shoulder. 

You laugh quietly, nudging her head with your own. “Glad to be of service, wife.”

“Makes me wonder if you’re good at… other things.”

You exhale roughly, stunned, almost as if the breath was stolen from you. Lucy looks proud of herself, a smug smile that you can’t bring yourself to wipe away from her face. You clear your throat as you look away, your face flushed as you spin her under your arm. She giggles, swaying in time with the music as you come back together.

“You’re cute when you're flustered.”

“Yes, well…” You trail off. “You’re awfully pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”

Lucy shrugs, guilty as charged.

You try to think of something, anything, to say, but you keep coming up blank. This was exactly what you expected, and nothing like you expected at the same time. The decor, the people, the atmosphere were just what you imagined. But you don’t think anyone could have predicted Lucy MacLean. 

You’re almost relieved when her father comes over to take the next dance, handing her off with a small wave as you head over to the table. By the time you’re nearing the table, you could already hear your sister talking a mile a minute, eagerly taking in the sights of everything vault 33 had to offer. The blonde sitting next to her, who you think might be Lucy’s friend, shoots you a wide-eyed look as you collapse in your seat.

You leave her to her fate of entertaining your sister with a dry laugh, leaning down to inspect the scuff marks on your shoes. Lucy had many talents, it seems, except maybe dancing. You’re quick to turn your attention to the plate in front of you, no longer needing to worry about the state of shoes that will soon be taken from you.

With that happy thought in mind, you finally dig in, watching Lucy and her father dance out of the corner of your eye. You're surprised about how quickly she returns to join you, an eager look on her face the second she realizes she has your attention.

She seems to talk at you more than to you as she tells you about her life, but it doesn’t bother you much. You’re very content to listen to her ramble on, interjecting with relevant commentary whenever the time calls for it.

“History, huh?” You prompt. 

Lucy nods, resting her chin on her hands as she talks. “Yeah,” she says. “I just think there's a lot of things about the future you can learn from the past.”

“Like how to end civilization?” You joke, wincing as you realize what just left your mouth. 

Lucy frowns for a moment, taking in your expression before shrugging.

“That's not quite what I was going for,” she admits. “More like how to avoid making the same mistakes, you know? That sort of the thing.”

“Second time’s the charm, I suppose.”

Lucy snorts, covering her mouth sheepishly as she looks away. “Take it history was never your strong suit, then?”

Without waiting for a response, she leans closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “And here was me, thinking you were the serious type.”

You gasp, leaning away from her with barely hidden amusement as you hold your hand up to your heart. “You wound me.”

“I think you'll live,” she comments wryly. “You wouldn't make me a widow before our wedding ends, would you?” Lucy pouts, making a show of sticking her lip out as she catches your eyes flicking toward the movement. 

“I think I can understand the draw of it. History, I mean. How often do you get to start again?” You muse, your voice soft and contemplative. You were drawing uncomfortable similarities to your own situation. 

“Besides,” you continue, quick to add some levity. “It's a lot more fun than fixing pipes.”

“Exactly!” Lucy exclaims, her eyes lighting up at your interest in the subject. “I mean, think about it–” 

“And your fertility tests?” A voice interjects suddenly.

You glance away, not hiding your shock as you meet her father’s eyes. “My…”

“Your fertility tests,” he repeats, a hint of irritation hidden behind his somewhat charming smile. His eyes flit between the two of you, betraying his intentions. He didn’t seem to like how much you were holding Lucy’s attention, it seemed. Curious.

“Daddy,” she says softly, her voice strained with embarrassment. A frown tugs at her lips, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. 

“What? It was, after all, the whole point of your marriage.”

Lucy winces, giving you an apologetic smile. Were you supposed to be offended at the lack of romance? It seemed par to the course, at this point. It was relaxing to have things back on track, just as you’d expected it to be.

You turn to face him, briefly mentioning the results of your tests with enough details to assuage him. He nods along as you speak, his expression neutral and unreadable. You’re sure he’s already seen everything he’d wanted to know, but you got the odd sense that he was reminding you of it. No, you think after a moment, watching Lucy’s face. 

He was reminding her.

You reach over to squeeze her hand reassuringly, surprising yourself as much as her. She lags behind for a second as she registers the gesture before returning it with a quirk of her lips. She leans closer toward you, a gleam in her eyes as she reaches over and stabs a fork full of food from your plate. She brings it to her lips with a mischievous smile, unaware of the way your body tenses in reaction before forcing yourself to calm down.

You catch your mother’s eye further down the table, watching the scene carefully before looking away. 

Meeting Lucy’s eyes again, you raise an eyebrow, stealing food back from her plate before she could stop you. She pouts, glancing down at her plate before nudging your leg with her foot under the table.

“We’re married now,” she complains. “Half of that is mine.”

“That means half of yours is mine too,” you point out. 

Lucy hums dismissively. “Technicality.”

“Is that right?” 

Lucy's about to answer as you feel a hand rest on your shoulder. Glancing up you see the Overseer standing behind you with a sad smile on his face. 

Was it time to return your meager belongings already? 

He nods at your questioning look, glancing over at Overseer MacLean, who stands up and walks away with the obvious intention of you following him.

“I'll do it,” Lucy says suddenly, grabbing you by the arm as she pulls you off in his direction. He waves Lucy on with a fond look, leaving you to her as he rejoins the table. 

You glance briefly at your surroundings as you trudge through the halls, each step feeling heavier than the last. The finality of the moment was really settling on you as you came to a stop in front of your new home.

“I thought it would be better if it was me,” Lucy says softly, a hesitant smile on her face. 

Stepping inside the room, you send her a confused look over your shoulder. “Why?”

“Why not? We're partners now.”

You stare down at the new outfit waiting for you on the desk, slowly running your fingers over the lettering. 33. Almost completely identical to the outfit you've worn every day of your life, but just different enough to give you pause. It was too late to back out now. 

“It's not like I know you either,” you say finally. 

Her face falls, but she tries not to show it, fiddling anxiously with her hands as she steps in behind you. You pause, your zipper coming to a halt as you purposely clear your throat. 

Lucy huffs. “Seriously?” She doesn't seem all that upset about it, more offended than anything. 

You give her an expectant look. She dutifully turns around, not without a murmured complaint. “You know we're married now?”

“You just want to see me naked,” you accuse idly, switching your clothes out as efficiently as you can manage. 

Lucy doesn't bother to deny it, making an affirmative noise that draws a chuckle out of you. God, you hated that she was growing on you. You wanted so badly to hate her, but she just made it so hard. 

“It's a time-honored tradition,” she insists playfully. 

“In the community wedding dress?” You question. 

“It's for the benefit of humanity that we reproduce as quickly as possible,” she states, almost robotically. You roll your eyes: you've read the same manuals, after all. 

“Though,” she continues thoughtfully. “I suppose it's not technically a requirement for us, specifically.”

“Huh…” You trail off hesitantly as a thought strikes you, not sure if you should be the one to say it. 

“What?”

“How long after your parents got married were you born?”

“About nine months,” she says hesitantly. The confused quirk of her head kills you inside, but you can't resist the urge to continue. 

“Wouldn't that mean you were probably conceived in that wedding dress, too?”

She takes a second to do the math as it suddenly dawns on her. Lucy pales, her hands gripping the fabric of the dress before her horrified eyes meet yours. “Why would you say that?” She whispers. 

You break into peels of laughter at the comment, and every time you manage to catch your breath, you catch sight of Lucy's still horrified face and start laughing again. Finally, Lucy cracks a grin, her eyes fixed on the mirthful look on your face. 

“You're prettier when you laugh. Did you know that?”

You almost choke as you process it, your laughter cut off by a sudden cough as you look down at the floor. As you sit down and start pulling your new shoes on, you can hear Lucy let out a laugh of her own, the sound marking her exit as it echoes down the hallway. 

… 

The room is nearly empty by the time you make your way back in. A few members of vault 33 are still mulling about but otherwise the room is eerily quiet. Overseer Jackson makes his way over to you, clasping a hand onto your shoulder as you hand over your suit. His hand lingers just long enough to be awkward before he pulls away, sniffling as surreptitiously as he can manage as he rubs at his eyes.

He’s teary-eyed as he stares down at you, his uncomfortably kind smile tinged with more sadness than you think he has a right to. You’re not sure you’ve ever had a conversation with him long enough to warrant this kind of reaction, but your vault mates have always had a tendency to overreact. There probably wasn’t much else to do after the monotony of daily life got to you, you figured.

Still, you weren’t keen to comfort a man you barely knew. Catching your mother’s eye you wave, pretending she was trying to get your attention as you excuse yourself from the conversation and leave him clutching on to your things. You’re not surprised when you catch sight of your sister’s grinning ear to ear as Lucy engages her in conversation, clearly over the moon to have her attention.

Yeah, you could relate to that.

You speak quietly to your parents as you make your goodbyes, choosing not to acknowledge the teary-eyed looks lest you start crying too. You’d made your peace with the idea of leaving everything behind a few days ago, but it seems like it was really starting to set in for them that they’d never see you again. For your sister too, it seems, as you suddenly feel her wrap her arms around your waist.

It takes an impressively long time to peel her off of you, and it’s only made possible with the help of Lucy’s gentle coaxing. You watch with nothing short of awe as Lucy manages to talk her down from her tears like it was nothing, her voice soft and soothing as she manages to effectively distract her long enough for you to escape her grasp.

Realizing she’s been played, your sister shoots Lucy a betrayed look, but she gets over it quickly enough as Lucy shoots her a playful smile. She kneels down to speak with her, whispering in her ear as she squeezes her shoulder.

You stand with Lucy as your parents cross through the gateway, watching as they try to comfort your sister in quiet, somber tones. 

“She really adores you, huh?” Lucy says softly, her hand tentatively reaching to rub at your back. The gate slowly starts to close, and your family slowly disappears from view with it.

“Do you like kids?” You ask, hoping for a distraction. “You seem to have a real knack for them.”

Lucy's quiet for a moment before nodding. “I like to teach, and kids always have such an interesting way of looking at things.”

She smiles, reaching over to hold your hand as she traces your fingers with hers. “We'll be starting our own family soon,” she muses. 

“Are you excited?”

“... Of course. It's our duty, after all.” You think it must be the most unenthusiastic thing you've heard her say all night. 

You pause, looking at her in a new light. She was doing her duty to ensure the future of humanity, after all, and you could respect that. You wondered how much of it was due to her moral compass and how much was just to live up to expectations, but you didn’t mind much.  It’s not like you didn’t have your own ulterior motives for agreeing to be wed, after all.

What a pair you made.

…

You stare at the door long after it's been closed for good, even after Overseer MacLean squeezed your shoulder was a surprising gentleness as he quietly left the room. He probably knew what it was like to leave his home behind. He was from vault 31, after all. 

Finally, you manage to turn your attention away from the door, turning around to see Lucy leaning silently against the doorway. You almost smile at the sight of her, your mood lightened as you realized she's been here waiting for you.

She's quick to grab your hand as you offer it to her, escorting you back through the vault towards your new home. Lucy's quiet as she leaves you to your thoughts, unsure of how to even begin to comfort you. 

Lucy's visibly startled as you squeeze her hand to get her attention, but she quickly recovers as you say, “So about that time-honored tradition…?”

Her face lights up, tightening her grip on your hand as she almost sprints down the hall towards your new bedroom. 

[science-hoes]

It’s literally them

[alottiegoingon]

golden rule

lucy maclean x gn!reader

summary: you become lucy's only friend in wasteland.

warnings: weapon usage/mentions, brief blood mention, wasteland and life outside the vault, lucy is naive and oblivious at first and a hot mess later, mostly just fluff, golden retriever lucy & black cat reader type of shit, kinda enemies/strangers to secret in lover with each other, reader is hot i wanna date them but also a loser if you see through them, no nsfw, not proofread

"just give it a thought, alright? we could help each other."

"why would i want you for a company? no offense, princess, but i don't associate with vault dwellers." you take a look at her from head to toes, studying the details in her jumper. despite how cool her pistol looked attached to her belt like that, the yellow and blue choice was kind of goofy, you thought.

you can see the excitement in her eyes disappearing as she hears you and you almost felt sorry for her. almost. "okay, ouch." she tilts her head, crossing her arms. in a second, her dramatic act gave place to a smug smile. "oh, i know! what if i help you to find the head?"

even your own bitterness left your soul as you hear her. you pause for a moment, searching for any sign of unseriousness in her face. maybe it was just a bad joke? but then, she keeps staring at you with those huge eyes and a not so subtle smile, proud of what she had said.

"i'm sorry, a head? you mean someone's head?" you frown. "i don't know what you vault people think of us but i'm not a monster." you weren't really offended, but seeing the panic in her face was actually princeless.

"what? no, no! i was just- everyone wants that head and i thought you-" she starts to ramble, not wanting to offend you. her beam went away as fast as it reached her face. you almost felt bad for her twice in a row now.

you couldn't hold yourself back anymore and allowed a smirk to creep onto your lips. she immediately stopped talking and, even though she exhaled relief, you knew that deep down she wanted to kill you but was too kind for that.

"oh. you were messing with me. funny." she gives you a forced dry laugh. it was actually annoying how she tried to be so nice all the time.

as a response, you give her a nonchalant wry smile. "anyway. i'm not looking for a dog right now, so..." you sigh, reaching for the heavy backpack on the floor and sliding it onto your shoulders. "but good luck with the head or whatever it means." you wink at the stranger and turn around to leave.

"wait! please." she grabs your wrist before you could take the first step and in response, you turn around again impatiently, glancing down at her tight grip on your skin. it takes her a while to realize that she's still holding you but as soon as she does, she immediately looks at your wrist as well and let go of it. "sorry." she whispers.

you were ready to interrupt her but, curiously, you felt bad when seeing how insanely desperate she was. it wouldn't hurt to just hear what the had to say, right?

"i've been having a rough week, okay? everyone i've met tried to kill me, except for you. a weird..." she pauses, thinking "robot, or whatever, tried to harvest my organs out and i had to cut someone's head off. and i may not be the strongest or the most experienced person but i can learn!" she was truly putting on her best show while you stood in front of her completely unbothered. at least, you liked to think that you were a complete fearless and tough person. "just... please?"

against all odds, you didn't deny it immediately. and, if you didn't deny it immediately, you knew what it meant. fuck, when did you become such a softie? it could be, of course, the way her hair looked pretty even in a messy ponytail or how the cut on her lip made her look so incredibly ho-

"okay, fine. whatever." that idiot creepy huge smile of hers spread on her face again before you could even finish. "listen up, i'm not done." you roll your eyes. "we'll do things my way, get it? you speak when i speak, you shoot when i shoot, you walk when i walk." you take steps closer to her while you talk. firm, hoarse and assertive tone. you stop when you feel the tip of her nose almost touching yours, keeping the steady the eye contact intact. you were so busy initimidating her that you don't even notice when she hold her breath.

"you are my shadow." you reach up for her face, cupping her chin with your thumb and index finger, forcing her to look back at you. "you don't exist unless i tell you to. do you understand me?" you stated with a piercing gaze.

you thought it was impossible for her eyes to get any bigger but when you step out of your scary platform, you notice her terrified expression. "okey dokey..." she nods frantically.

you gotta admit it. she didn't seem as goofy as before while paying attention to you so devotedly like that. even when still wearing that ridiculous jumper.

eventually, you realize that your eyes were betraying you by staring at her for a little too long. you clean your throat, trying to cover that up. "good. let's go now. we can't stay here forever." you step back and start to walk away, not even waiting for her to join you.

you hear her hasty footsteps getting closer as she tries to catch up to you until she finally shares your pace. "i'm lucy, by the way. lucy maclean." she held her head high, corners of her mouth going up again. god, she smiled a lot.

"good for you. i'm still gonna call you princess, though."

"not to brag, cause that would be impolite of me, but i found a really cool place when i was looking for a river this morning." lucy's smiling from ear to ear and excitedly rocking from side to side is the first thing you see when you open your eyes after a tough night of sleep.

a week had passed since you met lucy. no matter how tough you considered yourself to be, lucy was persistent, charming, sweet and funny enough to make her way to your heart and you knew that you were doomed. deep down, you were suspicious that she knew that as well.

"why are you always so happy?" you groan, rubbing your eyes. unlike lucy, you were not a morning person. or a night person. or any time of the day person.

"good morning to you too, sunshine!"

you are forced to get up, not being actually opposed to it, and take a short sip from your last water bottle. maybe taking a look at lucy's oh so great place would be useful.

"okay then. let's do it, princess." you use your hands to brush the remains of sand and dust out of your pants but lucy's cute giggle prevents you from heading out of the shelter you had found.

lucy approaches you with her usual polite and sweet grin and you unconsciously flinch as she stops just a few inches from you and touch you. predictable, she was gentle while brushing the top of your hair with her fingers, fixing the bundle of messy strands that merged together while you were sleeping and added a funny volume to your head. you follow every move of her with darting eyes and an uncontrollable urge to admire her green eyes focused on your hair and reddish parted lips.

"there you go. pretty as always." lucy coos and before withdrawing herself, her fingers slid down by a few inches and casually tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. for the first time in ages, you froze.

thankfully, lucy didn't seem to notice how affected you were by her innocent act. "thanks." you whispered in a ridiculously soft grin and followed her out of the shelter.

"why do you have a gun if you don't like using it? that's stupid." you tease lucy while you two walked side by side, following the train track to the place she had mentioned.

"i do use it. just when i have no other option. you know, because of the golden rule." she shrugs, proudly, proceeding to explain it to you.

you really tried to not care or call it dumb, but instead, you snorted in amusement. "you are way too naive, you know that?"

a dilapidated house.

lucy's incredible and cool place was nothing but a whole junk. everything was falling apart and, judging by how empty it was, many others were there before you.

"it looked cool from the outside..." she explains herself while scratching the back of her neck.

you were strong. firm. scary and ruthless even. you would shove a knife on anybody's throat if they wasted your time like that, especially after a terrible night of sleep. but, again, it wasn't anybody. it was her.

so, funny or not, you laughed.

"god, you are such a terrible explorer." you take a quick peek at her with the corner of your eyes, wearing an idiotic and foolish smirk on your lips.

"i am not!" her jaw drops and her voice sounds whinier as she defends herself but giggle along with you, not feeling scared to be vulnerable and fully stare at you.

you didn't have to answer to that. all you did was look back and forth at her and the house, proving your point.

"okay, you got me there." she looks down, dramatically pouting and pretending to feel so insulted. "but at least i made you smile. looks good on you." lucy's lips twitch in a shy grin.

"maybe i should smile more, then. if you like it." you boldly murmur, surprised at yourself for saying that. you could swear that lucy's face got almost entirely red but you didn't have enough time to appreciate it or figure if it was real.

"look at those cute lovebirds. love has returned to wasteland, gentlemen." a tall, sturdy middle-aged man mocks you to two other creepy looking guys. one was even missing an eye. in two seconds, you were able to count how many weapons they had and your first thought was the possibility of lucy getting hurt.

you quickly stood in front of her, shielding her from any kind of possible danger.

everthing happened too fast after that. all you remember is denying their offer to take your backpacks with the remains of food and water you had and all of your weapons.

everything went black for a second as your body hit the ground. you slowly manage to get on your knees and look around but lucy isn't there and you are trapped. you feel a sharp pain as you breathe in and a drop of blood hits your pants. you shudder at the moment you cautiously feel your cheek, warm to the touch and stinging like you were poked by a thousand needles. your fingertips carefully drop to your mouth and you hiss as you touch the wide cut on your swollen lower lip.

you notice the crisp click of the gun's trigger being released and you look up, expecting to see the weapon pointed at your head. instead, you see the men with their hands above their heads.

"get away from them!" lucy's voice fills your ears and you turn your head back to find her with a huge weapon in hands pointed at the strangers. she takes a quick glance at you and you see the anger inside her overflow as she notices your wounds.

"i'm gonna count to three and i want your ugly, filthy and miserable roaches out of my face or... or i'll shoot!" judging by her tone, you can easily notice how nervous she is even though she's trying her best to actually stand up for you.

and the thought of being protected by someone made your heart flutter. you weren't bothered by the aching pain in your lip when you found yourself proudly smiling at her.

the big guy seemed to notice the tension in her voice and took a step closer to you. you could only imagine how badly he had regretted that as soon as a loud bang echoed through the entire house and his foot was hanging by a thread, quite too literally.

"oh, golly..." lucy mutters with widen eyes. you follow her shock with a gasp that was completely muffled by the loud and agonized screech.

"don't make me repeat myself! all of you out, now!" she yells, threatening them by aiming the gun at them once more. "if that's okay with you, please." the scary expression in her face swiftly changed to a well-mannered and soft grin.

the injured men is rushedly dragged out by the other two, not looking back and you can not believe that someone as adorable looking as lucy was the one to broke her dear rule and hurt people.

"thank you! t-take care." she waves at them innocently, still with the gun in hands before running to you.

[rhiannonsknife]

── SHATTER YOUR ILLUSIONS OF LOVE

— summary: lucy finds something interesting in an abandoned store. it’s not what she thinks it is.

— warnings: fem!reader. implied lesbian!reader. nsfw content. mdni. strap-on usage. for the sake of the fic, we gotta ignore the sanitary aspect of this.

the wind howls through the cracked windows of the abandoned storefront, rattling the metal grates hanging half off their hinges.

you’re leaning against the weathered brick wall right outside, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently, and your eyes scanning the empty street for signs of trouble.

traveling through the wasteland was a gamble already, and stopping anywhere for too long only upped the odds of drawing unwanted attention. but lucy had insisted she needed to check inside, claiming she’d seen ‘something interesting’ through the remains of grime-streaked glass.

that had been ten minutes ago.

“lucy,” you call, raising your voice over the wind. “are you done yet?”

her laugh echoes from inside, light and carefree, followed by her reply: “almost” lucy calls. there’s a long pause, then the unmistakable sound of something heavy clattering to the ground.

you groan, letting your head fall back against the wall. this wasn’t unusual; lucy’s curiosity was perhaps simultaneously her best and worst trait. she had a knack for finding weird, useless junk and being way too excited about it. not that you minded. most days, her by wasteland standards unique disposition was the only thing keeping you sane. not today though, today, you’re cold, tired, and running low on patience.

finally, the door creaks open behind you.

“hey!” she calls. “look what i found!”

you push off the wall and turn to face her…and immediately feel your brain short-circuit.

lucy stands before you, beaming like she’s just stumbled upon the wasteland’s greatest treasure. she’s wearing…something: leather straps crisscross her chest, looping around her shoulders and down her torso in a series of buckles and loops. the centerpiece, an empty ring attachment, sits just below her chest. clearly not where it’s supposed to be, but it’s not like lucy knows that. nor does she seem aware of what she’s put on to begin with.

it’s a strap-on harness.

“oh my god,” you choke out, heat rushing to your face so fast you feel dizzy with it.

“what?” lucy looks down at herself, tugging lightly at one of the straps. “pretty cool, right? it was just lying there in the back of the store! i think it’s some kind of…uh…” she frowns, tilting her head as she spins to give you the full view. “tool belt? or maybe armor? either way, it’s really sturdy! feel this leather!” she grabs one of the straps near her shoulder and holds it out to you.

you don’t take it. matter of fact, you can’t. you’re too busy trying to remember how breathing works, because all you can think about is the way the harness fits snugly against her body, though entirely wrong, the leather gleaming faintly in the dim light, and how absolutely oblivious she is to what it actually is.

“lucy,” you manage, voice embarrassingly high-pitched. “that’s not- it’s not- oh my god, take it off!”

she blinks, startled by your reaction. “what? why? did i put it on wrong?”

“no, i mean…yes, but that’s not the point!” you gesture at her frantically, as if that’ll somehow distract from the mortifying situation. “it’s just- it’s not what you think it is, okay?” you try to explain, pointing at the leather “that is not a tool belt!”

lucy’s brow furrows in confusion as she adjusts the straps around her shoulders. “then what is it?”

you gape at her, torn between laughter and sheer disbelief. how do you even begin to explain this to her? clearly, she hasn’t seen those in her vault.

“it’s- it’s a-“ you cut yourself off with a groan, burying your face in your hands. there is no way you’re explaining this to her. absolutely not.

“what?” lucy presses, her curiosity clearly piqued. “what’s it for?”

“nothing!” you yelp, your voice cracking. “it’s for nothing! just take it off before-” you gesture vaguely at the very much empty street. “…before someone sees you!”

she glances around, perplexed, following your outstretched finger. “but no one’s here…?”

“that’s not the point!” you can feel your cheeks burning hotter by the second. “lucy, just- just trust me on this, okay? please?”

lucy hesitates for a moment, clearly not understanding but willing to humor you. “alright, alright,” she finally agrees, reaching for the buckles. “but i still think it’s a good find! i’m keeping this!”

you turn away as she starts to unstrap herself, both to give her privacy and to avoid spontaneously combusting from sheer embarrassment. despite all the dangers of the wastelands, you’re pretty sure traveling with lucy maclean is what’s actually going to kill you.

by the time lucy gets the harness off and stashes it in her pack (for some unfathomable reason), the sun is starting to dip low on the horizon, painting the scenery in streaks of amber and rust. after a full day of walking and scavenging, this crumbling storefront seems as good a place as any to settle down for the night.

“well,” you say, clearing your throat and trying to move past the initial awkwardness, “i guess this place’ll do. better than sleeping out in the open, at least!”

“it’s not bad,” lucy says cheerfully, looking around the store’s interior again.

the place, from which you can only assume that it is the ruins of what once was an adult store, is mostly empty, save for a few rusted shelves, a broken counter at the far end and a few boxes left in the old shelves.

there’s no sign of wildlife, which you consider a plus, and the building’s thick walls provide decent protection from the wind. “way better than that place we stayed last week. remember that weird smell? ugh…”

you hum in agreement, busying yourself with clearing a space on the floor. truthfully, it isn’t the worst spot you’ve camped in.

“you take first watch,” lucy says, dropping her pack with a soft thud. “i’ll take a quick nap and take over in a few hours?“

she’s adapting to how sleep works out here, at least, and you nod your head. “i could use some quiet time anyway,”

lucy nods, satisfied, and stretches out on the ground, rolling up her jacket like a makeshift pillow. “wake me if anything weird happens,” she says, closing her eyes.

you lean back against the wall, rifle propped an arm length away, trying to ignore the ache in your muscles and the stubborn heat still lingering in your cheeks.

now, the image of lucy in that harness races unbidden through your mind. it comes in flashes; pictures of her, with a strap now firmly attached to her body. lucy, on top of you, her face pressed to the crook of your neck as she rolls her hips. behind you, with her fingers curling up in your hair as she forces you back against her. above you, with your lips stretched around her-

you shake your head violently to banish it. you need to focus. there are bigger problems in the world than your ridiculous crush on someone who might not even swing your way at all.

but, of course, lucy doesn’t make it easy.

after barely twenty minutes of silence, she stirs and sits up, rubbing at her eyes.

“couldn't sleep?” you ask, raising a brow at her.

“nope,” she reaches into her bag and pulls out the leather harness again. “i keep thinking about this thing…” she mutters, running her fingertips over the ring.

you groan, dragging a hand down your face. “lucy, just drop it! it’s-”

she doesn’t. of course she doesn’t,

instead, she flips the harness over in her hands, fiddling with the straps as she examines it from every angle. instinctively, you reach for your rifle just to have a distraction.

“i mean, it’s pretty well-made,” she muses, tugging on one of the buckles. “whoever made it must’ve known what they were doing. and it’s got this…ring thing? maybe for carrying tools?”

“it’s not for tools!” you blurt, louder than intended. lucy looks up, startled. “well, then what is it for?”

you sigh, setting your rifle aside.

“can't you just let it go?”

you stare at her. lucy is watching you with those wide, curious eyes, completely oblivious to the mortifying reality of the situation. a part of you wants to lie. to make up some ridiculous story about it being part of a long-lost survival kit. another part of you knows you’re a terrible liar, and that she won’t drop it until she gets a real answer.

“well, i could,” lucy shrugs, “but you're being…weird about it, which makes me think it's actually kind of important! and now i really want to know!”

you glance at the open doorway, down rows of shelves, the faint breeze stirring the dust on the floor, as if hoping for some kind of divine intervention to save you. it doesn't come.

“fine,” you mutter, standing. “come on!”

lucy grins triumphantly, bouncing to her feet and following as you lead her to the far corner of the store.

she trails after you, harness in hand, until you crouch down by one of the dusty shelves, brushing aside cobwebs before pulling out one of the few remaining boxes you passed by earlier. it’s heavy and battered, but the faded label on the side is still legible and it is still sealed shut

“alright,” you say, placing it on the ground before you. “this,” you tell lucy as you pull a knife from your belt. “is the counterpart to what you're holding!”

without another word, you cut the plastic open and, after some more layers of carefully sealed packaging, pull out the bright neon-pink silicone dildo. you hold it up just long enough for her to get a good look before tossing it back into the box.

lucy blinks, eyes wide, and for a moment, she says nothing. then her mouth opens in a soft “oh,”

she kneels beside the box, staring at its contents with an unreadable expression. “wait, so...” she picks up the dildo again, and turns it over in her hands, her brow furrowing as she connects the dots. “this goes with the harness?”

“yes,” you say quickly, folding your arms across your chest. “and that's why i didn't want to talk about it. can we move on now?”

lucy, on the other hand, doesn't seem remotely embarrassed. if anything, she looks intrigued.

she puts it back in the box and stands, holding the harness up to her hips as if testing its fit.

“so it's, like... for, uh... intimacy stuff? sex?” she asks, her tone genuinely curious.

“yes, lucy,” you say, your voice tight as you force your gaze away. “it's for ‘intimacy stuff’,” then, after a beat of silence, you decide this might be your only chance to get your truth out as well: “specifically for people like...like me, i guess?”

she looks at you then, her eyes softening slightly. “like you?”

“yeah,” you shift uncomfortably under her gaze, heart pounding. “you know? people who don't really, uh, like guys…that way…?”

understanding dawns on her face, but instead of recoiling or making a joke, she simply nods. another pause, then: “so, like, women who…prefer other women?”

your throat feels dry. “yeah. something like that,”

lucy looks back at the harness, a thoughtful expression on her face. then, to your utter horror, she starts fiddling with the straps again, this time more deliberately.

“what are you doing?” you ask, your voice rising slightly.

“trying it on,” she replies matter-of-factly, stepping into the harness and pulling it up over her hips. she tightens the straps with surprising ease, the leather settling snugly against her body. “it's comfortable,” she says conversationally, running her fingers along the waistband.

all you can do is stare at her dumbfounded. “lucy,”

she glances at you, her face the picture of innocence. “what? you said it's for people like you, right? i just want to see what it's like!”

“people like me using it,” you practically hiss. “not people like you…wearing it around like it's a pair of pants!”

lucy laughs, but there's a glint in her eye now, something playful and teasing that wasn't there before. she shifts her hips slightly, the leather creaking, and you have to fight the urge to look away. or worse, stare.

“calm down” she says. “it’s not a big deal, right? just a harness!”

your heart pounds in your chest as lucy tilts her head, watching you with that same curious gaze. there's no judgment in her expression, nor is there discomfort. just a quiet, steady interest that leaves you completely off balance.

“look,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “you...you don't understand what you're doing right now!”

“don't i?” her tone is light but her eyes are searching yours. lucy steps even closer, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. “you're blushing,”

“i'm not-” you take a step back, bumping into the wall behind you. “i'm not…blushing!”

“you totally are. is it the harness?” she pauses, her voice dropping just slightly. “or is it…me?”

your breath catches in your throat. for a moment, you can't think. you can't move. the tension in the air suddenly feels electric, heavy with the weight of everything you haven't said and everything she might not even realize she's doing.

“lucy…” you manage. “you should- uh- you should probably take it off now, yeah?”

she only grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. “why? am i making you nervous?”

yes. absolutely. but you don't tell her that. instead, you stand frozen as lucy leans just a little closer, the leather harness shifting as she moves. the air between you is stifling now, charged with something you can’t quite name. she hasn’t moved back. if anything, she’s standing closer, the faintest grin on her lips, her eyes locked on yours.

“lucy,” you say again, but her name catches in your throat, sounding more like a ragged plea than a warning.

“yeah?” she asks, her voice teasingly playful.

you glance down at the harness, that stupid harness, and then back at her, hoping she’ll take the hint. lucy doesn’t. instead, she shifts her weight again, the leather creaking softly. you swear she’s doing it on purpose now.

“why are you…” you trail off, biting your lip. “why are you doing this?”

her smile falters slightly. “i don’t know,” she admits. “i guess i just…like seeing you like this,”

your breath hitches. “like what?”

lucy tilts her head, her eyes searching yours. she pauses. then, her gaze flickers to your mouth and heat floods your face. you try to think of something -anything- to say, but the words won’t come.

“do you want this?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper now.

you nod your head slowly, your throat feeling too tight to speak.

her smile softens, and she takes another step forward, close enough now that you can feel the warmth of her body through the faint chill of the room. “good,”

and then she kisses you.

the shelves behind you clatter as your body is forced back against them by lucy’s own, trapping you against the metal.

it surprises you how fast her mouth is moving. how desperate and hungry. in all the times (more than you’d ever openly admit) you pictured yourself kissing her, she’d been the careful one. you should’ve known better than that. way better.

now, she is all over you, eager hands cupping your cheeks as she presses you against the cold surface. your whole body shivers as lucy licks into your mouth experimentally, humming when you gasp in response.

“for the record,” she mumbles against your mouth, barely breaking away from you enough to get those words out. “you want to have sex with me?”

you almost laugh at the absurdity of the question, would lucy not force one of her thighs between yours, keeping you on the tip of your toes with a strangled gasp. it doesn’t occur to you to question where she knows all this from. instead, you just nod, panting as she pushes her knee further up.

pleased with all those reactions she’s getting from you, lucy hums. “and you want me to use…that?” she nods towards the now unsealed box at your feet.

“uh huh,” is all you can manage. it seems enough for lucy, who flashes an excited smile before walking over to pick it up from the floor. for the first time, you dare to breathe.

she fumbles with the box momentarily, struggling to free the toy from its plastic packaging in her excitement. before you can offer your help, she has figured it out and carelessly tosses the container aside, leaving only the dildo in her hand.

“hm,” lucy hums, taking it in from all angles under the dim light.

“this goes through the…” you start breathlessly, nodding toward the ring that sits right above her still fully clothed pubic bone.

it’s not often that you find yourself longing for a life a little more like lucy’s. this is one of those rare moments though. the things you’d do to have her in an actual bed, in a place that belongs to just the two of you. somewhere where you can actually take your time to undress her, see her fully, and not just rushed glimpses in the barely lit space around you.

“okey dokey,” she fumbles with the toy, experimentally tracing the buckles and straps before pushing the dildo through its designated hole.

then, it’s just you, her, and the shuddered breath you exhale into the small space left between you when lucy steps closer again.

you briefly wonder if it would overwhelm lucy if you’d go down on your knees before her right then and there. if you’d force her down your throat and show her just how much of her you’re willing to take. but then you turn to look back at her and decide that this is not the time.

lucy is watching you attentively, her eyes darting between yours and the strap attached to her body. there seems a newfound sense of pride in the way she carries herself as you feel her press against your inner thigh. it draws a gasp from you, an expression on your face that lucy instantly mirrors: mouth agape, eyes slightly widened.

it is your hushed, shaky “lucy, please” that sets her into motion.

her fingers, once resting on your hips, jump into action before you know it; roaming all over your body. into your hair, over smudged, dirty clothes, underneath them…her nails briefly scrape the expanse of your stomach, the fabric of your shirt riding up your torso, and lucy seems satisfied with the way you exhale into her open mouth. then, she drops them lower.

it doesn’t take her long to unbuckle your belt and pull it free from your pants. the setting doesn’t allow any slower, more sensual undressing. instead, you push your pants down your legs until they’re polling around your ankles and you can easily step out of them, leaving you exposed from the waist down except for your underwear -which is doing a terrible job in covering the arousal there.

you’ve been wet from the moment you started fantasizing about her, and your little make out session has only made matters worse. lucy, who’s pushing her fingers past the waistline of your underwear, notices too when she’s met with your wetness once they slide through you.

“fuck-“ you mutter, your head falling back.

lucy studies you attentively once her fingers find your clit, rubbing it in clockwise circles underneath the fabric until your thighs are trembling and instinctively closing around her wrist.

“sit,” she orders, jerking her chin towards the shelf pressed against the back of your thighs.

stunned into silence, you hop onto the cool metal, your legs spread enough for lucy to stand between them. her palms stroke along your thighs as she bites her lip, now able to see the wet patch your arousal has left in the fabric of your underwear.

“can you take it?” she whispers, immediately earning herself an eager nod from you.

lucy pulls you forward until you’re sitting on the edge, then forces your legs apart further with a sudden motion. only once she’s reached out and pushed your underwear aside, does it seem to occur to her that she’s never been on this side of things before.

nervously, she glances up at you. “i’ve never-“ lucy begins, gesturing downward.

“that’s okay!” you interject instantly. at this point, you don’t care what she does, as long as she does it inside of you.

“okay,” she echoes, before focusing on the matter at hand.

absentmindedly, though it sends another wave of arousal down to your center, lucy uses what’s left of your wetness on her fingers to coat her length in it. you watch breathlessly as she pumps her fist along the silicone shaft until it's glistening with the makeshift lube.

immediately, you wrap your legs around lucy, closing your ankles behind her and urging her closer. she complies gladly.

her eyes flicker up to your face when she lines herself up and moves forward. your fingers reach around lucy’s back, desperately grasping for something to hold onto as her cock sinks into you inch by inch. her nose nuzzles against the side of your neck as she fills you up slowly, her breath warm against your skin, until she’s pushed it in as far as it’ll go and your bodies are nestled flush together.

“good?” lucy whispers, slowly pulling back just enough to look up at you.

“mhm” you hum, struggling to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head.

her hands fall to your waist again, squeezing you gently as her eyes remain fixed on where she has pushed into your body, where the toy is pressed against your walls just right.

“can i move?” lucy husks, looking like she’s barely containing herself from doing so.

for a moment you wish that her impatience was actually justified. not that it isn’t already, you are dying to see her in a similar position, but you wish she could feel you too: all around her, taking it greedily, sucking her in deeper.

once again, you nod.

pressing your palm between her shoulder blades is about all the bracing you get to do before lucy starts to move. she pulls her hips back slowly as if she’s testing the waters, before slamming into you faster and deeper than expected.

“o-oh!” you gasp, your mouth falling open over lucy’s shoulder. the relief of finally feeling her against your g-spot is immediate and has you seeing stars behind your closed eyelids.

you arch your back against her, involuntarily searching for more as lucy starts thrusting into you more confidently. you meet each of her thrusts, gently lifting your hips from the shelf to rock back onto her strap. like this, she’s fucking you properly in no time, falling into an easy rhythm.

the sound of your skin slapping together echoes through the otherwise abandoned store, accompanied only by your occasional ragged moans. you don’t bother to hold back anymore, not when you’ve spent half of your travels fantasizing about her like this.

it only vaguely registers that lucy’s mouth is pressing against the side of your neck, sucking on the soft skin there as she keeps fucking the strap into you. she’s reaching depths you could never quite find with only your fingers during your rare attempts to find some sort of relief, depths that have you trembling already.

“lucy please!” you cry, unsure what you’re even asking for as one hand holds onto the back of her neck whereas the other grips the edge of the shelf for dear life. “please,”

“does that feel good?” she asks, her voice genuine and amazed despite her relentless pounding.

“mhm, so good!” you nod. your legs are shaking around lucy, trembling more with each thrust that makes you gush around the strap.

the longer lucy moves like this, the more confident she gets in her own movements. despite the occasional grunts of exhaustion, she does not let up. it doesn’t take her long to find the perfect angle either, your cunt throbbing once you feel her right where you need it the most.

too eager for your own release to feel embarrassed, you drop your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit at a pace that matches the one lucy has set.

the space around you smells of sex and her hands are carefully holding your legs apart, keeping you open for her. the shelves creak under the force of her pace, slamming against the wall so loudly you will have to check if the noise has attracted any unwanted attention once she’s done with you.

for now, all you can focus on is the pleasure in your system, which only intensifies when lucy starts talking: “god” she groans, eyes narrowed down on your body to watch the way you take the full length of her strap over and over again.

she pulls out almost all the way once, the motion agonizingly slow so she can see the way you part for her as the silicone slides from your body. the toy is glistening with your wetness in the barely lit room.

“fuck-” she grunts, before snapping forward and sinking back into. there’s sweat collecting at her temple from the efforts of her constant rolls of her hips. “are you close? tell me!”

your weak whine seems to sound agreeable enough for lucy to double her efforts. not once does she falter, her hips thrusting forward effortlessly and desperate cries of her name are all you can manage. they're your only prayer as she gets you closer and closer to the edge.

“that’s it,” she praises absentmindedly, her eyes glued to what she can see past the fabric of your underwear and the frantic movement of your wrist as you rub yourself to the rhythm of her thrusts. “that’s it!”

lucy seems almost as eager to make you cum as you are yourself, panting: “are you gonna cum?” as though she can hardly believe that she’s the one to get you there.

“oh my god, are you gonna cum on my- on my cock?” the distant realization dawns upon you that she doesn’t even know the proper words, but the way she’s put it -albeit clumsy and unsure- works. it is what you ultimately need to be pushed over that edge.

a breathless “oh my god!” is the only response lucy gets before your orgasm rips through you. with a prolonged moan, you slam your head back, only vaguely aware of the dull pain as your body convulses around her strap.

your hips are still rutting back and forth uselessly, grinding against your hand as she stills inside of you. when the pleasure finally subsides, your body goes slack and you fall against lucy with her strap still buried inside you.

her arms wrap around you soothingly, pressing you as close to her chest as the current position allows. you stay like this for a while, just enough for you to catch your breath and ground yourself. the stillness of the night settles back into the store as the two of you adjust in the dim light. she pulls back gently and you pull your jacket tight, brushing stray bits of dust from the sleeves, while lucy fumbles with her gear.

the wind that blows through the creaks in the wall seems louder now, as the silence between you stretches on. finally, lucy dares to speak. “well,” she begins. “this has officially been my favorite pit stop so far!”

you can’t help but laugh, your cheeks heating up all over again as you carefully reach down to push your underwear back into place.

“and these?” she jerks her thumb down to the strap that’s still fastened to her body. “these are definitely coming with us!”

you freeze mid-motion, “lucy, you can’t just carry that around like it’s-“

“like it’s what? a perfectly good survival tool?” she interrupts. “come on, think about it! it’s sturdy, lightweight, multipurpose and-”

“multipurpose?” you cut in, raising a brow.

she shrugs, unbothered. “sure. you never know when you might need something to hold up supplies!”

your lips part to protest, but no words come out. instead, you watch as she unbuckles the harness. this whole situation is ridiculous. it’s so lucy. you feel warmth spreading through your chest at the sight.

she glances over at you, her head tilted when she catches you staring. “are you alright?”

you nod quickly, forcing yourself to look away before your face betrays you again. “yeah,” you swallow audibly. “yeah, i’m good!”

but you’re not. not really. because she kissed you. she kissed you, and then she fucked you, too. and now, instead of brushing it off like another one of her impulsive experiments, she’s acting like it’s the most natural thing in the world. like it’s you that’s natural to her.

“alright,” she says, her voice pulling you from your thoughts. “let’s set up camp for the night. i’ll try to get some actual sleep this time!”

you nod again, following her toward the back of the store where the shadows are deepest. as you lay out your bedroll, you glance at her from the corner of your eye. she’s humming under her breath as she secures her pack.

this wasn’t just a one-time thing, you realize as she packs up both the harness and its counterpart. it wasn’t just a kiss or a moment or something you won’t speak about in the morning, otherwise she would not be keeping this.

it was lucy, and it was you.

and whatever comes next on your travels, you know there’s no going back from this.

— a/n: my first lucy fic!! you can thank @lottiesgrl for this, they helped me turn my silly little idea into…something!!

[sparrowxlake]

Proximity - Lucy Maclean x F!Reader

A sort of calm has settled over your impromptu campsite as you settle in for the night. After a long day of walking, you and Lucy have found shelter in the remnants of an old office building, settling into the first room that didn't reek of mildew or have a collapsing section of roof.

You've been traveling together long enough to grow used to each other's presence, but not long enough to share a small space like this comfortably. You busy yourself with maintaining your weapon, finding some comfort in the routine of taking the gun apart, cleaning and oiling the pieces by the dim light of your flashlight.

At the other end of the room, you can practically hear Lucy's brain working as she's lost in thought, chin resting on her knees as she gazes at nothing in particular. You almost wish for her usual questions or peppy anecdotes. In spite of the calm, she's uncharacteristically sour this evening.

"Might want to keep it down over there," You find yourself saying, an attempt to lighten her mood. "All that noisy thinking is gonna give our position away."

Lucy doesn't respond to this, her eyes still distant as she's apparently lost in her thoughts.

You feel yourself frowning, but decide against saying anything else, returning to your weapon. The monotony of the task is usually relaxing, grounding after a long or hard day in the wasteland. But, the heavy air hanging over your companion is distracting you. Frankly, it's pissing you off a little bit. 

If she senses your irritation, she pays it no mind. You can hear her shift where she's sitting against the wall. You can feel her eyes on you now, watching you work on your weapon.

"Cap for your thoughts?" You try again, gaze flicking up from your work to meet hers. 

Her eyes snap into focus when they meet yours, a flicker of recognition. "Oh, sorry. I'm miles away tonight."

Lucy offers a tight, apologetic smile. You're both tired, but she doesn't wear it quite as well as you do. You're used to this, the constant movement, the high stakes of travel in the wasteland. You do a lot of this sort of work, escorting others from place to place. Lucy's still unaccustomed to a life on the road, though she puts on a brave face.

Her features are a bit sunken, eyes ringed with dark discoloration that speaks to her lack of sleep. You can't help but feel for her, even if it frustrates you at the same time.

"You could tell me what's on your mind, if you want," You offer, tone nonchalant.

She looks thoughtful, considering your offer. You can't help but quirk a brow. It's usually tough to get Lucy to shut up and settle in for the night. Something must really be weighing on her.

"No, I don't think I want to talk about it."

Lucy turns her gaze away, curling back into herself. Another flicker of irritation bubbles up. It feels shitty as you say it, worse when you see how she reacts.

"Well, figure your shit out. We can't afford for you to slow us down tomorrow."

She winces at your words, arms tightening around her legs. Lucy makes a small, resigned sound. "Oh. Right."

You feel a bit like you should walk over a landmine, having let your frustration get the better of you. This is the sort of thing you don't usually have to think twice about. You focus on a job, get it done, move on to the next thing. You try to think of this as another job, but like it or not, you feel something for this girl. Pity, you tell yourself. 

Exhaling sharply through your nose, you try again to return to your gun maintenance. You can hardly hear through the sound of your heartbeat, stomach churning with an unfamiliar emotion. 

You hazard a glance up from your work. She's looking at you again, but you're unable to read her expression. 

Guilt, you decide. That's what you're feeling. 

With a resigned sigh, you begin to put your weapon back together. You'll have to finish another time. 

"I'm sorry. I'm making an ass of myself tonight," You hear yourself saying as you click the final parts of your gun back into place. 

"Yeah, you kind of are," Lucy replies. Her voice is small, but there's a slight hint of amusement. You can sense you're already forgiven. 

"Lemme make it up to you, then?"

She narrows her eyes slightly at your proposition, gears in her head turning as she tries to understand what you're offering. 

"Nothing untoward. I'm nothing if not a gentleman," You explain with a small smile, pushing your weapon aside and wiping your hands on your jacket. "Come here."

Lucy hesitates, but slides across the floor to sit at your side. She watches carefully, as if she doesn't fully trust that you aren't planning something.

It's certainly not that you wouldn't want to. On more than one occasion, you've felt your mind drift to less than savory thoughts about the Vault Dweller. It's hard not to. Even disheveled from days of travel, she's pretty. If she were anyone else, maybe she would be a casual fling, a mutually beneficial hook up to blow off some stress. 

But, she's not just some girl in the wasteland, is she?

You drape an arm over her shoulder, a comforting gesture. It's not uncomfortable, the proximity, especially when she melts into your side like she's made to be there. The casual intimacy of it is the strangest thing.

Lucy, you've noticed, is prone to touching. Bumping shoulders, casually touching your arm or shoulders. The unexpected contact has had you nearly jump out of your skin on more than one occasion. 

This, however, is nice. Makes you feel warm and mushy inside, in spite of yourself.

She sighs as she tucks her head into your shoulder, a hand lightly gripping onto your jacket. "You make a good pillow," Lucy says after some time, voice muffled against your shoulder.

"Yeah, well... Don't get used to it," You tell her, though your words are more to yourself than anything. "It's just for tonight. Get some sleep."

Lucy gives a contented hum, further relaxing into your side. Just for tonight, you remind yourself, resting your chin on the top of her head. 

Outside, the chaos of the wasteland seems a distant dream. Tomorrow, you'll both be back out on those dusty roads, dodging raiders and wildlife, blazing a path toward danger. But, for now, you allow yourself to take some comfort in the warmth of your companion.

[mayasaurusss]

transfem! Lucy Maclean on her and reader’s wedding night…🤭🤭

Rocket 69

-Contains: arranged marriage, very heavily plot driven, switch! transfem Lucy MacLean, smut (big time), switch! afab reader, possible grammar mistakes or foreign idioms (saying, phrases). -Word count: 8k, 16 pages.

-Guide: Fallout in-game lore, Fallout show lore, objects and characters found in the Fallout games and show, original bestfriend character.

-A/N: Hello anon! I am very sorry to having delayed this for so long, but your request gave me so many ideas, so like the insane person I am, I had to pour every single one of them into this -hence the 16 pages long oneshot-. The 'guide' section contains a series of things that will be mentioned in the oneshot. I have been hurrying up so that I could publish this before the Easter holidays, as a kind of gift for you all for making me reach 500 followers. Thank you all so much😊❤️. Enjoy!

‘Wake up, work, eat, sleep. Wake up, work, eat, sleep. Repeat.

Were you born in any other time period, you wouldn't have minded this cyclic routine too much. Wake up, work, eat, sleep. It's what humankind has been doing since the dawn of time, without breaking a sweat. But, unlike the other billions of people who lived before you, your life is an especially strange one. Ever since the bombs dropped on October 23, 2077, life as it was known on earth ended. Fire melted the world's cities, radiation chipped away at human's lives and the fallout rained from the sky, coating the soil in a heavy dust. Only a selected lucky few managed to escape the bombs devastating consequences, accessing what would be known as one of America's most important successes: the vaults. Shelters lodged deep inside the earth, safe from radiation from the outside world. Life there is a continuous cycle: Wake up, work, eat, sleep. Wake up, work, eat, sleep. Repeat.

But today is different, today is special.

You sit on your bed for the last time, fingers tightening in your locks, finding solace in curling the strands of hair and knotting them. The white dress is tight on your body, constricting your chest and making you breathe with fatigue.

You try to calm down, breathing slowly and thinking that in the end, it’s not that big of a change, right? You will simply move to another vault and life will continue; of course, you will not know anyone and you will lose all the affections and ties you had before, but life will be the same, no? You’ll just have to be brave, get out there and try to make friends. Everyone will be nice to you, right? It’s all the same. You will have a husband to give children to, you will spend your life underground with him and the others, you will make friends…right?

A knock echoes hear from the other side of the door. "Can I come in?" she asks, and you heave a sigh and let her in, falling back on the mattress.

Jen falls back with you on the bed, placing her hand atop yours, "So, how's the bride?" she asks with a sly smile, but you can see sadness behind it. "I think I am alright. Just a bit... stressed, you know?" she nods in understanding, already having known what you were going through. "I remember when I got married" she says, remembering the way the white dress tightened on her curves. "I was so scared! But I got through it..." her hands curl on the naked skin of your shoulders, her warmth dispersing in the cold of your own body.

"And you will too" Jen's smile had always put an end to your worries. Among everyone, she always was the one person who you could count on. "I just got married off so the Overseer would have one mouth less to feed" you say bitterly, tasting the bile that man gives you in your tongue

"Not counting the one that I would have to raise..." the thought of leaving a place you learned to call home, simply for the fact that the higher ups decided to hand you over to a group of strangers makes your blood boil and your heart ache. It doesn't help that your only role will be that of a caregiver, likely to be forgotten or hated by your husband and left to raise a child on your own.

"Oh come on, you seem to view marriage simply as a commodity" Jen has always been a romantic, ever since you have known her. She viewed everything in a beautiful, unrealistic way. "Isn't it? In these times..." at the end of the day, this was just a way to drive a mouth less away from the shelter and into the arms of someone else.

"... Don't be so dramatic" Jen's eyes scan yours, veiled annoyance swimming in them. "Come on, let's go" you feel your heart close itself the moment the last syllable is spoken, a lump nudging inside your throat. How can you leave?

"...Yes".

You let Jen guide you through the silent halls of Vault 32, two sets of steps echoing inside the hollow chambers. You find solace in the warmth of your best friend's hands, trying to calm yourself by counting each one of your heartbeats. You stop in front of a metal door, the one that will lead you to the last room, where everyone is waiting for you to step inside. This is the first and last time you'll ever walk through this door.

"Are you ready"?

Are you?

"Yes" you try to swallow your fears, but they manage to be far more powerful than you, lodged deep inside your throath. Just before you enter, Jen turns to you, takes your cheeks in her hands and kisses them with tender sadness. "This is the last time I'll have you all to myself" she says, placing a final kiss atop your nose. "I am so proud of you" smiling to her proves difficult, and you only manage to do so after calming your breath several times. "Dry your tears" you only manage to smudge your makeup a bit, reshaped thanks to Jenny's quick hand.

"Come on, let's welcome you in your new life".

The chamber is barely illuminated by a flickering light above you. Everyone that you've known during your life is here. Hank, Gina, Honey, even little Timmy. Some look at you with hope in their eyes, others with a barely veiled disdain. Waiting by the vault door is the overseer, Ian Jackson: a dumb old man who you could not stand. And it seemed the feeling was mutual. "Overseer Jackson" the man mumbles something under his lips, before turning to you and squaring you up from head to toe. He didn't even bother to call you by your first name, "I am happy to introduce you to your new life. This marriage will serve both vault 32 and 33 well". Of course it would. For this exchange, vault 33 promised 32 maize and crops lasting up to six months. And, underlined deep inside the marriage contract, lifting the weight of one more mouth to feed off of Ian's back.

"Of course, overseer", it's no use begin bitchy to him right now. In just a few hours, you're never going to see him again. "I trust you will behave correctly. I wouldn't want overseer MacLean to regret his decision. It was kind of him to allow this marriage".

He's talking to you like you're livestock. "I will" it's your simple response, hate and anger dripping from every letter. The tension is palpable, and someone tries to fill it with chitter chatter. Jenny takes your hand, winks at you and steps back as Jackson throws one of his famous snares in her direction. Ian is a hated man inside the vault. His greed will be the one to consume him whole. It's only a matter of time before someone throws the first rock at him.

Your thoughts are put to silence when a loud, booming sound echoes from behind the door. Slowly, the gears move the heavy metal door and unpeeles a lit room. You can't see behind all the figures in front of you, and try to tip toe to see your new spouse.

"Welcome neighbors from vault 32. I am Hank MacLean, overseer of vault 33". Heavy steps bounce across the walls, Ian Jackson steps outside and greets the man in front of him. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Hank" he says, disregarding the overseers' greetings and approaching Hank like an old friend would.

"How's life been treating you?" you can hear Ian sucking air in between his teeth, resilience in his voice. "Same as always" he turns to look at the whole lot of dwellers behind him. His disdain is met with equal passion. "Insubordination spreads throughout them like mushrooms after a rainstorm".

Hank seems to be a little uncomfortable, from the tone of his voice, and quickly tries to change the subject: "We give you maize, cucumbers and beans rations, enough to be consumed in six months" he gestures towards countless linen bags slumped against the wall.

"We give you wheat and a... breeder" so you are livestock.

"Soooo, who am I marrying?" what? Was that a woman's voice?

Slowly, you're peeled back from the wall of people, exposed to the light from the other side of the room. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the brightness, burning at your sclera.

Everyone's eyes are on you. You hear their reaction before you see it: stunned silence is broken by whispers, most of them directed at you and your new spouse. When, finally, you can see again, you're met with a puzzling image: in front of you stand a crowd of new faces, all obscured by the woman in front of you.

She wears a dress that's the same shade of white as yours. A veil covers her long, dark hair, free from any tie, falling just beneath her shoulders. Big, brown eyes bore into yours, looking somewhere deep inside your heart. She then offers you a small, shy smile, which quickly gets erased by your next question.

"This is who I am marrying? But...she's a-" the burning look Ian gives you is enough to shut you up before saying anything more. Her eyes widen and pain flashes through them, now searching anything to look at but you. "I know that this might seem...odd, to most of you" overseer Hank explains, a protective hand draped over the woman's shoulder. "But we have reasons to allow this marriage. Reasons only we, and the new spouses, know" you'd want to argue with Hank that you don't know a damn thing; hell, you've been left in the dark about the details of this relationship since it was first stipulated by overseer Jackson. He simply walked in on you and Jen working in the water depuration centre one day and announced "You will be soon married off to one of vault's 33 residents. Please, pack your bags accordingly". How were you supposed to not act surprised?

"We will now proceed on with the ceremony" Hank had a way with words, quickly shutting all whispers and chit chat down. He gestured to everyone in the room with a big swoop of his hand in the air, then, with a less than pleased look, walks in the direction of vault's 33 hallways. Everyone followed suit, and in the midst of it, you feel a strong hand clamping down painfully at your wrist. Ian's famous hateful scowl paints his face. "I told you to behave. Can't you do that one fucking time?" he whisper-yells at you, drawing eyes to the both of you. "I...I am sorry, I-" his grip on your wrist tightens, bruising at your skin, damaging the blood vessels underneath it.

"Don't make me look bad" as if he hasn't done that himself already.

"Hey!" you crane your neck just enough to see the woman who would become your wife stomp into your direction, heels echoing loudly.

"This isn't how we were taught here in the vault. You can't treat people like this!" you can't help but think that she looks comically cute with that frown on her face and her hands on her hips. Ian doesn't answer, simply stares at her with disdain and the look of someone who knows has screwed up. It's only a matter of time until somebody tells in on him to Hank MacLean.

"Do unto others as you would have done unto you. That's the Golden Rule" at those words, Ian rolls his eyes and pushes your arm away, grunting as he enters the tunnels of the vault, leaving you alone with your new to-be bride.

"Wow, he can be a real jerk huh?" she hops next to you, watching Ian disappear behind the corner. "Yeah, he can. Nobody ever liked him" you join in on mocking him, momentarily forgetting who the woman beside you is. "Yeah, I can see why" an uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you, but lasts only a second, before it's filled again by her voice.

"I am Lucy, by the way".

The venue is filled to the brim with people, some talking, some silent, all watching as you and your new spouse exchange your vows. "By the authority invested in me, I pronounce that you are joined together, under the love of God. You may now kiss".

The kiss you exchange with Lucy, while people around you are cheering, is brief and chaste, but in that moment it feels like a dream; simple and serene.

Placed all over the tables sits plates full of as much food as you can possibly imagine: yumyum deviled eggs, mac&cheese, cram and a giant wedding cake. You could lose yourself in all of this food, and probably feed at least a small village on the surface. You stay clear of the deviled eggs, wanting to at least make yourself presentable to your new bride. Speaking of, Miss MacLean has been watching you eat for the entirety of dinner; you don't dislike it, of course, but you'd be more at ease if she didn't look at you while you were stuffing yourself with cram and mashed potatoes.

Jen sits next to you, directly mimicking Lucy and her blonde-lady-friend. Despite how loud the dinner party is, in your little corner there's tension, desperately wanting to be filled. Beneath the table, Jen nudges at your foot, getting your attention. You rise from the plate, watching her with confusion, before her lips spread in that little smug smirk that she always does before throwing you under the bus, in one way or the other. "Soooo Lucy" there she goes. "How fertile are you?" you choke on the mashed potatoes, feeling some traces of it traveling to your nose, before you pinch it between your fingers. Lucy seems a bit confused, but without too much thought, answers as if it was a normal question. "Oh, uhm, the exams suggest that I am more than fertile. The doctors were actually quite surprised" oh great. That's... good news, right? "I see, I see" Jen simply smiles, nudging the tip of her thumb in the corner of her lips, restraining herself to laugh at your embarrassment. That little devil! Blonde-lady-friend similarly has some problems containing a laugh in, skewering a pickle on her fork before eating it with a pleased face. Lucy doesn't seem to pick up on the hidden context of the situation, rolling her shoulders before resuming her dinner, looking at you with curiosity from time to time.

"Good evening and welcome!" oh thank God. Overseer Hank MacLean, who you now know to be your soon to be father in law, draws the attention of all the dwellers. "We are bonded, not just as neighbors, but by a shared duty: to keep the candle of civilzation's lit, while the rest of the world has been cast into darkness" sure, if you count as civilized the way here everyone is a ticking time bomb.

"Soon, if our calculations are correct, radiation's level on the surface fast enough, that the next generation, their children-" he says, pointing his finger at you, "-will be able to recolonize!" Did he really have to say that? Your blushing bride smiles, laughing while taking your hands in hers. She seems so enthusiastic to see what the future will hold for her.

"After two hundred years, we don't know much about what's out there: desperation, violence, lawlessness. These survivors will need to be shown a better way". Hank seems sure of himself, when he talks about the surface's world like that. During your life in vault 32, you had always been taught history as the books wrote it. But growing up, seeing the occasional merchant from the outside world enter, you can't help but ask yourself if all that you had been taught was a lie. Lucy at least seems pretty sure of herself.

"I'll admit, I am sometimes afraid, that mean old world will change us instead; but then I look at my daughter, such a beautiful bride, and her spouse, and I am not afraid: I feel hope. To Lucy MacLean, and to this marriage, and to hope!" from the venue arises a wave of cheers, followed by the turning of the projector's gears and the southern afternoon's lights dimming to a summer's night deep blue hues.

Lucy, ever so gracious and sweet, leaves your table, but before going off to the first dance, she halts, as if suddenly remembering something. She turns, a smile as warm as a summer day, before placing a kiss on your nose. A choir of woos and cheers leaves the tables, earning a strangled sound from your throat as a response. You can feel your face heating up from the simple act. "Don't worry" Lucy says, whispering while looking directly in your eyes, "I'll be back with you as soon as possible". You could melt only from her words, so sweet and soft you can't help but slowly fall in love head over heels with the woman. Taking her father's hands, the two of them start to dance. Together, they form the portrait of the perfect family. It's selfish, but watching them dance together, so happily only makes you wish you were able to do the same tonight. "Hey" you look up from the table to see Jen eyeing you with a hint of sadness in her voice. "Hey" talking has never been your strongest suit, especially when feeling down or lost, and Jen has learnt that throughout the years. "So...how are you feeling?" comes her question, one that you dreaded for the entire night. "I am... alright, I think" underneath the notes of a serene song, people dance without a thought in the world.

"I am scared" you admit to Jen, your pride crumbling away. Life has always been a cyclic routine for you: wake up, work, eat, sleep. You never thought that something new would be presented to you, and when it came, it scared you.

The artificial sound of crickets hums underneath songs and chatter, so faint you could miss it; but, if you focus on it enough, you can hear the skipping of the record and the many sounds they had made two hundred years ago, on a summer night like this could have been. You sigh, craning your neck onto Jen's shoulder; "I am gonna miss you", you say, a layer of tears on your eyes. Her hand sneaks on your shoulder, keeping you close to her. She had never been this sad, too used to be the upbeat one between you two; but as the realization that this will be the last time she'll spend with her best friend, "I will miss you too".

You're taken by surprise by Lucy's sudden entrance. "Hi! May I borrow her for a moment?" your body jolts up a bit, startled by her presence. You barely miss the way Lucy's hand tightens in a closed fist, irrational jealousy showing itself in the way her knuckles turn white. You feel like you have been caught doing something wrong and hide your face, turning it away from your bride. "Sure!" sensing the opportunity to make your wedding night less grimm, Jen wastes no time in pushing you up into the waiting arms of your wife.

Lucy, on the other hand, has no problems catching your weight, transforming your messy movement into the flow of your first dance. Not even a minute has passed since you began dancing, yet she already has questions for you. "How are you feeling? You look sad" she asks while you try to follow her, barely able to keep yourself on your feet. You didn't expect her to understand you so fast. "Huh? How did you-" someone bumps into you from behind, faltering the dance for a moment. Lucy leans closer to you, her eyes focused on your face, making you feel studied under her gaze. "You haven't danced at all," her arms, draped over your shoulders, tightening briefly, pressing you against her. "And you've been spending time with your friend over here" she gestures towards Jen, who now seems to be hitting it off with Lucy's lady-friend, with a motion of her chin.

She seems to consider something, and pauses, before she looks up at you. "Are you scared of me?" she asks, and there's almost a taste of fear behind her eyes. Your throath tightens, your tongue unable to articulate words properly. "N-No!" but your stammering betrays you, and Lucy isn't an idiot.

Are you afraid of her? "…A little". There is a flicker of something behind her eyes, as if your words have hurt her more than they should have, but she quickly slips back her charming persona on. "Well, don't be. I don't bite" she tells you, before she inches just a little closer "Unless you'll want me to".

Oh. Wow.

Her gaze skims to your lips, a flirty look in her eyes suggests that she's thinking of more than what she lets out. The way she seems to be so enamoured with your features makes your heart lose a beat. Wow. Ok. 

"Ok uhm, thank you Lucy!" the brunette doesn't have the time to react before you wrench your hands out of hers, shake invisible dust off of your dress and run off, leaving her puzzled behind you. Oh God, you are such a loser. 

It's evening now. An old 50's song buzzes from the radio, covered by chatter. You are busy chatting your head off with Jen, when you are interrupted by Lucy. You feel her presence before you hear her. "Want me to show you to your new room?" she asks you, a sly smile that you know hides a -very- specific meaning behind it. You look away to see Jen shooting you with a knowing look in her eyes. You are about to make up a ridiculous excuse in your mind, when Jen gives you a smack on the shoulder “Oh come on, just go!”. And this is where you find yourself: walking down the hallways of vault 33, hand in hand with your blushing bride. The walls and floor all look the same -all vaults do-, like a never ending maze. You get so used to walking that the stop to your new room’s door is abrupt and wakes you from your alcohol induced coma. “This is it” Lucy turns around to scan at your face and finds interest and hesitance. But the way she smiles at you warms your heart enough to follow her into the room. You’re met with bluish hues on the wall and furniture: on your left a small living room, directly connected to the kitchen and on your right, a bedroom overlooking a patio, where the fake sky glimmers above. Lucy is the first to talk, eagerness oozing from her like a fountain. “Isn’t it great? Every big moment of our lives is gonna happen right here” she seems to be enamoured at the prospect of spending her life here. Meanwhile, while she talks, you start to get undressed: you peel away at the layers of clothes, until your skin meets the air. And Lucy doesn’t seem to notice right away. “Just picture the Christmas mornings around the tree…” when she turns back to search for your face, she instead is greeted by the sight of your naked self, standing in the room with your arms behind your back. You’ve always been taught that spouses expect sex the night of the wedding. Was this…weird? Should you have done something else? 

Oh, you are a certified creep now. How are you gonna look her in the eyes when she-. The only thing you hear before begin shoved on the wall by a -actually pretty strong- eager Lucy is an ‘okey-dokey’, her hands already all over you. She kisses you like she has been craving it for the past twenty years, nipping at your bottom lip with her teeth. Lucy pushes you against the wall by her crotch, without taking too much into account the growing mass beneath her dress. But you notice that, and it weirds you out. What is it? She opens her eyes just enough to see yours, confusingly looking at where your bodies touch: then, as if stung by a wasp, she remembers, and you feel her pull back from you, your body left cold. You watch, a little dumbfounded, as Lucy paces around the room, in clear distress. She mumbles something under her breath, and you can only make so many words, before she interrupts you when you ask her what’s wrong. “There…” she swallows “There is something you should know”. There are traces of tears in her eyes, and she seems to be having to accept a harsh, terrible reality. “I used to be a boy, once” she tells you, not daring to look you in the eyes. “What?” you ask her, a little confused by her words at first, until it hits you. Oh! “I used to look different, talk different” her body feels as if it’s being charged with electricity and is digging a pit where her stomach is. “The whole reason my father agreed to arrange this marriage was because there was a woman who was ready to be married: you”. You don’t like what this implies. No matter how much she tries, she can’t physically stop herself from talking, before it’s too late. “He wouldn’t have allowed this if there wasn’t someone to procreate with” Ouch. 

"Oh... wow," you murmur, taken aback. Lucy spins around, her eyes wide with regret and panic as she realizes what has just revealed. “No, I didn’t mean-” but the damage is done: she has hurt someone, comparing her to nothing more than a breeding machine, and made herself look like a monster. “I am sorry” she steps away from you, making her way to the door with her head hung in shame. “I-I’ll go. I will tell my father that you won’t-” you don’t know what she would have said next, because you kiss her worries away, words dying in her throath. “You’re not going anywhere”.

You kiss her again, and again and again, until your lips are sore, until her breath is heavy on your skin. You don’t have a lot of time to react, before she pushes you until your naked back is pressed against a cold surface. Oh come on, on the table?!

Her fingers tail up from their place on your stomach to your chest, taking a hold of your flesh and pinching your nipple. Actually, you quite like this. Lucy pushes you flat against the table with her crotch pressed right where yours is: you can feel her getting harder by the second beneath the wedding dress. You sneak your hand right where she needs it the most and palm her through the fabric: she’s warm and big in your hand, not too hard nor too soft. You feel her heavy sighs on your face as you slowly shake her to life. Shivers run down her spine when she feels your breath on her ear, urging her to “Take it off”, which she immediately does. It’s funny how fast she lets the dress fall to the floor and undoes her bra, letting her chest free. She’s back on you in an instant, her arms sneaking under your body and breasts pushed against yours. You don’t miss the way her hips subtly grind against the table’s edge. Sneaking a glance below, you have to physically stop yourself from clenching your thighs against her sides: here, between her legs and under white lace fabric, sits Lucy’s length, big and hot and so inviting. You could take it in your hands, right? After all, by the looks of it, it seems as if she desperately needs it. So your fingers stop just where she needs them the most, placed against her growing erection. Both of you moan, each from a different sensation: you from feeling her grow beneath your touch, and she from the overwhelming pleasure washing over her. She begins to grind on your hand, helping you get her off and preparing her for you; you feel her slowly hardening under the fabric, growing larger by the second. Your fingers catch on the edge of something, and when they do, you hear Lucy’s hitched breath in your ear. Next thing you know, she’s stripping herself off of her panties, revealing herself in all her nude glory. You can’t help but think of how beautiful she is in this moment: skin reddened by the blood flowing beneath it, goosebumps traveling along her body and messy hair falling at either side of her neck. You don’t pay too much mind on what lies between her legs, only acknowledging to yourself that it looks painfully red, desperate to be pleased by someone. And that someone happens to be you.

Lucy just can’t help herself. You look so good beneath her, warm and inviting. Just how is she supposed to contain herself? And before you know it, she’s pressing her body against yours again, her length nestled between your legs.

Well, you expected more foreplay, but this is good too. Only she starts to grind herself on your entrance, gradually wetting herself with your own arousal. Oh. Wow. This…isn’t what you though she’d do, but damn, it’s so fucking hot. 

“L-Lucy, wait…” your voice is small and trembles in your throat, and she pauses, eyes hazy with need, barely processing your words. Gently, you guide her back, turning her so she rests against the edge of the table. She blinks at you, confused, until you slowly sink to your knees.

Something shifts in her expression. Seeing you like this, looking up at her… Well, she was never truly sure what she liked, having spent most of her sex life with strange partners, to say the least, but damn it, it does things to her. She can only focus on those lips of yours, so, so close to her, just a couple of inches away. 

But nothing can prepare her for when she first feels them on her, kissing away at the goosebumps that shake her length. Oh, how could she have known it would’ve felt so good? You kiss her eagerly, lavishing every inch of her, trailing up, up until you stop at her tip, crimson with pleasure and need. You can’t just leave her there wanting, can you?

When you finally take her inside of your mouth, Lucy is sure she’s about to pass out and reach the heavens. Each movement, each inching of her cock into your mouth sends waves of electricity to Lucy’s brain. Is this how sex was supposed to feel like, all along? If only she had met you before… You stop only when you reach around her base, unable to get more of her in you without gagging. That’s when you start to travel up on her length and fall back down again. Over and over and over…

 Every kiss, every lick of yours builds her towards that edge that she has been desperately craving ever since you stripped down for her. She can feel herself losing it, her blood warming her from head to toe, preparing her to cum by your lips’ work. She’s so, so close… Her fingers tangle in your hair, tugging and catching your attention. You look up at her, and the moment you do, you taste a drop of cum falling on your tongue. You can only imagine what seeing you like this does to her. Her lip trembles, her eyes are unfocused and teary, her skin as red as beetroots. “Wait, wait” she tugs you up by your hair, prompting you to follow her and let her cock fall from your lips. Lucy is quick to catch your lips between hers, kissing you so hard that her lipstick smudges, spreading colour all over you and her. And all the while, she presses herself right between your legs, sliding in and out, right below your… She seems to read your mind, and sighs “I need more”, now pushing you until your back meets the soft mattress of your new bed. She’s on you again, pushing her tongue between your lips, straddling your body so that she can have more space to move. 

She seems to read your mind. Her nails imprint half shaped moons into the flesh of your cheeks, her breath heavy and hot on your skin, and she sighs “I need more, I need you”, pushes you until your back meets the soft mattress of your new bed. Her legs push your body close together, so that you are nicely trapped under her, free to watch how her cock bounces every time she watches your chest, or when you kiss her a little too good. It’s hypnotizing: Lucy must be very, very into you, otherwise you can’t explain the continuous trusts she makes in the air, her tip so red you think all her blood flowed to it. It looks painful and you want to help, but instead you stop when Lucy’s fingers hook beneath your crotch, right on top of your pussy. Her middle and ring finger dance around, playing with your clit and lips, delving just deep enough for the tip to tease you open. It’s embarrassing how quickly you give into pleasure, already aided thanks to sucking Lucy off. You can still taste her on your tongue, feel the empty space she left in your throath. To have the flavour of her skin and sweat swirling inside of your mouth and her fingers deep inside you is as transcendental as it is sinful. It doesn’t take you long at all to fall apart, all pleasure zapping electricity into your brain, giving you goosebumps and coming in waves, right then and there on your new bed, in your new sheets. You’re barely responsive after that, feeling as if you’ve melted. After what felt like an eternity, but were really only a few seconds, you hear your spouse's worried voice come from somewhere in the room. “Hey, hey? Are you good there?” she pats your thigh repeatedly, waking you up from your pleasure induced coma. “Ugh… yeah” you’re not really sure if you’re okay; after all, you feel as if you’ve lost all the strength in your bones and your brain has become mush. But God, even in this state, you need her to touch you again, immediatley. You want her all over you, to feel her skin on yours, to feel her cock-.

“Good! Because, uh-” Lucy really, really doesn’t want to sound selfish, but she really, really needs to be inside of you. Her dick is rock hard and red as a tomato, stinging each second it’s not nestled in its rightful place: you. “I would hate it if you passed out. I’d have to go and search for help, and people would see you-, and you know…”; it’s true, she really would prefer to have your naked image all to herself, to cherish it when she’s alone. But now she’s with you, and God only knows how much she needs you. A couple of minutes pass, and the more you start to ‘come back’ from your trance, the more Lucy squirms, her dick pressing between her legs and the mattress. You can see the pain she feels in her face, hardened, the bridge of her nose scrunched and her forehead’s skin drawing furrows on it. Just as you’re about to move, to reach for Lucy, she does it first, taking your elbow in her hand and begging you, “I need- I need inside. Can I, please?”.

Oh you’re so getting fucked tonight. 

You do the first thing that you can think of, and move so that you rest on your elbows and your spine forms an arch, leaving you open and ready to be taken. Lucy’s breath hitches behind your back, and you know you must have done something nice, but rather than feeling her crotch pressed down on yours, or even better, her length nestled between your legs, Lucy’s hands are the ones that guide you until you’re face to face with her. “As much as I’d love to have sex with you like that” she says, “and believe me, I really do, I’d rather watch you. Is that okay?”. It’s okay, oh God yes, it’s so, so okay. You are ready for everything that she’ll give to you. But as her fingers come down to tease your opening once again, you realize you’re not wet enough, not to let her slide in at least. That’s when an idea comes to mind: living in a vault, you were thankfully teached the basics of having sex, but in post nuclear war America, it was treated as simple procreation, without the pleasures that come with it. But the rumors run fast in the vaults, and as soon as you begun to grow into adulthood, you heard more and more about the different sides of sex. It was Jen and the others who told you about all the different positions one and their spouse can take, and one did strike you as interesting. Maybe it could have helped with your little problem. 

You watch as Lucy scrunches her nose and teases your clit, hoping to wetten you further but to no avail. The devilish sparkle in your eyes should scare her, but it does nothing other than make her harder than she already is. “I have an idea” you say, and command her with a flick of your finger to get next to you, closer to your face. “Sit on my face, facing the end of the bed” and Lucy does, admittedly a bit confused. “What are you-” but her voice dies in her throath, once you guide her back into your mouth. It’s hard taking her like this, because she’s pressing hard against your chest and gives you no space to suck her properly. And most of all, you’re not getting any wetter.

“You shouldn’t keep a girl waiting, you know?” at first, she can’t quite make out what you mean, but as you press your legs together, skin rubbing against skin, she reaches beneath, allowing the air to fill the space between your face and her crotch. You can finally take her in your mouth again, lavishing her, preparing her to enter you; and her, to lick and suck and tease every part of you, to eat you out like you’re her last meal. 

It really helps your cause when Lucy, who’s so deep into pleasure she can’t think clearly, absentmindedly moves and feels a jolt of pleasure spark from her cock to her brain, and so she starts to trust into your mouth from above, pressing her dick farther than your mouth could before. There’s something about Lucy using you like this that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. She presses and presses and presses until you can feel your world shake with her thrusts and your pleasure. “Fuck, fuck, shit!” your lover repeats in a mantra, her mouth a mess of juices and spit, exhaling heavily against your cunt everytime she comes back for air. She seems to forget that you too are supposed to breathe, until you choke on her dick and gag loudly. Her cock leaves your throath as soon as she hears you struggling. “I’m so sorry!” her hands are on your neck and face, checking to see if everything is alright. “Are you okay?!”. For God’s sake! Before she can even react, you place your hand on her shoulder, fingers squeezing her soft skin hard. If she doesn’t take your right here and now, you’re gonna become insane. “Please, just…” you barely whisper, your voice strained with want, “Just take me”. Now it’s your turn to be surprised. Throughout the past few hours, you’ve learnt that Lucy, despite begin a frail woman, is really fucking strong, and despite that, you’re still surprised when she just takes you, pushes you flat against the bed and takes you by the hips, raising you until you’re met with her cock. With the way she’s watching where your sexes join, you’d think she was in contemplation of the divine. 

She presses her cock between your folds, sliding her red tip up and down. A nice appetizer for a long night. 

She’s right there, right there, you just need to… A whine escapes you when Lucy finally enters you. The intrusion feels alien, hurts and draws a trickle of blood from your cunt, pooling at the base of her cock. You see panic on Lucy’s face, tears of sweat falling from her temple, both fueled by pleasure and fear. “Shit! Are you-” she’s about to exit you, far too fast and harsh after just having penetrated you, but you keep her close, placing wet kisses on her neck to reassure her. “I am fine, just need… a couple of minutes” her features rest serene now, the small creases of age and worry fading. A couple of minutes go by, your body tired and focusing all its strength on adjusting to Lucy's girth. You test the waters, moving with her cock nestled deep inside of you. All your nerves catch aflame the moment her tip nudges against your walls, so deep and big and hot-. “Can I?” your spouse’s voice comes from above, full of want and expectation. And how can you deny her that? “Yes-” the very second you say that, Lucy’s hips start to move, drawing half circles in the air. The motion comes natural to her, as if she had been fucking you for her whole life. “Fuck… Oh God” she grunts, her voice sounding raspy for a second, making her somehow even hotter than she already is. She’s panting heavily above you, drops of sweat falling down her skin, making her abs look delicious. You’d do anything to touch and lick those muscles right now. Opposite to you, focused on piercing into your tight wet opening, it takes all of Lucy’s self restraint to not take you hard and fast. She sighs into the air “You’re so tight…”, while being so gentle and sweet that it makes you mad. You know that this gentle persona she put on is just a facade, that she yearns to feel you tightening up on her cock and scream; so why doesn’t she just fuck you properly? But you have your ways of getting what you want: you trap Lucy by locking your legs behind her, hug her close to your body and angle your back and hips so that you can meet her trusts, fucking yourself on her now that she is too stunned to move. 

“Take me, fuck me. I know you want to” you sigh into her ear, sending goosebumps traveling down her spine. And how can she resist you? You are her siren and she’s just a poor, helpless sailor. 

You only get a couple of seconds before she starts to absolutely ravish you. As if you’ve put her under a spell, Lucy fucks you at a speed that has your toes curling and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. She fucks you in so deep and hard that you think for a moment you’re gonna break apart on her length. “Oh you are just perfect” she almost whispers, her voice cracking as you clench around her. She throws her head back, a delirious look in her eyes, laced with pleasure and an almost undetectable need for possession. Looking at you crying beneath her, your skin wetted by sweat, your breath short and hot, it suddenly dawns on her: she’s doing this to you. She’s the one who is making you scream to go deeper, faster, harder. She’s the one who you beg. She’s the one whose cock is breaking you. The realization only makes her fuck you faster, her lips drawning back into a smile. “Thank God it was you, you’re just so, so perfect and beautiful” her fingers stroke the skin of your cheek, a harsh contrast with the way her crotch meets your ass. How can she says such pretty words when she’s fucking you so wildly? “And you’ve got a pretty tight pussy too”. Ah, there it is. Her attempt at joking quickly fades when you push your legs, shutting her up, that cocky look of hers replaced by unfocused, glazed eyes. “Shit!” you can tell by the way she picked up her pace and by the tension in her jaw, that she’s about to cum. Every thrust into your core builds her up, pushing her incredibly close to the edge. “I- I think I am about to-” her crotch burns with desire and pleasure, a fire begging to be put out by your grip. And you can’t help it too, the strength and passion that she puts into every movement has you tightening your fist on the sheets and your pussy on her cock, your throath desperately holding screams and moans of pleasure. “What do you say, huh, love? Can I, please?”; that’s when you finally lose it, your orgasm so close you can practically already taste the way your body will quiver under Lucy’s lovely touches. “Please, please do it, please Lucy, come in me” you sigh into her ear, no amount of shame holding you back from stating what you want anymore. For a brief second, before her world shatters from bliss, Lucy sees the artificial starlight that shines outside dancing in your eyes, making you more beautiful than anything she has ever seen. She’s glad it was you. Maybe, stars only look pretty in your eyes. 

Lucy comes with a long, high whine, her hips stuttering for the final time, hot cum filling you until there’s no more left for her to stuff you with. The feeling of her warmth inside is enough for you to finally come with her, a moan so loud that it bounces on the room’s walls, and you’re sure whoever might be walking outside knows that you’re getting your world absolutely rocked by your lovely spouse. When the last spurts of cum flow inside of your cunt, Lucy can finally let herself fall on top of you, her body shivering as if electricity is streaming down her veins. You stay there for what feels like an eternity, cuddled together in a mess of limbs and sweat and pants and heartbeats. Enough strength now fuels Lucy, giving her the energy to get up, partially at least, and to heave a sigh.

“Holy moly…”. Lucy is shocked when you let out a maniacal laugh, throwing your head back, with your lips facing the ceiling. “W-what’s so funny?!” you really don’t want to laugh, but you can’t help it; how could you not? It comes off of you in waves, shaking your body so much that for a moment, Lucy thinks you are having a seizure. “Tell me… do you always say things like that?” you ask her, her eyes furrowed in a confused expression, a nervous smile spreading on her lips. “Y-yeah?”. Your smile gives her butterflies. Funny, considering she has just finished fucking like a wild animal. “It’s funny”. She is silent for a moment, blinking repeatedly as if her brain is processing your words; then her skin grows from its pale colour to a red tomato and she hides her face in her hands. “No no, I liked it!” but Lucy is already too deep into her shame, now pushing a pillow onto her face and kicking her legs. Your only answer is a string of babbles and muffled curses coming from a very embarrassed Lucy. Resting next to her on the bed while giggling when she’s so shy and silent only manages to make heat rise into her face further. But it’s all in good humor, when she gets to smile with you. 

She might be the luckiest girl in this world. 

A few minutes pass by, sweat now cooled by the coolness of the room. “Come on, we have to go: the party is still going on” you say, and it takes all of your will power to stir from your position and move out of the bed. “Mhm, but I don’t wanna…” says your spouse, her mouth pressed against the soft fabric of the pillowcase. Just as you’re about to walk to the door to reach your discarded wedding dress, you’re pulled back by your arms, a flurry of sheets and pillows and white filling your vision, until you’re face to face with Lucy again. “Let them party if they want to,” she whispers, reaching down next to your ear. “The night is still young”.

[jamiedc-they-them]

Good People (Platonic)

Summary: While in the Wasteland, running on nothing but fumes and even less hope, you meet someone. Someone who might just be the one thing you need in a place like this: a friend.

Note: This is shorter than my usual stuff (both in terms of words, probably, and also just in terms of content - more so a scene than anything else; maybe a series of short scenes showing Lucy's arc if you guys want and how her friendship with Y/N develops?) Let me know in an ask!

You were a survivor. You had been since the moment you were born, but you weren't sure how much longer that was going to last.

Your day hadn't started off good, you see. You were running out of water and had passed out earlier due to some kind of infection - no idea what it was or who/what it was from, you had come across a lot of beings and things in your travels - and some guy had thought you were dead and even pissed on you just in case. Was not refreshing, or nice.

You had fought him off, tackling him to the floor and punching him quite a few times. You didn't kill him, however. You just left him be after that.

An odd fellow with a briefcase who promise you everything you could ever want passed you by. He gave you something that gave you a boost. You had no caps, so the only piece of fluid you had left on you - your water container - was given to him in exchange for this item.

So, now you were even more screwed then before.

The man even seemed to somewhat pity you, but he still left.

You find an abandoned bus. It's been picked, recently or otherwise doesn't really matter, picked clean is picked clean. Or, well, as clean as you can get within the apocalypse.

"Hello?" a voice says. You spin around, reaching for a weapon you don't have as you lost it in the scuffle before, and so instead duck down - hitting your head on one of the seats.

You hear the person outside cringe.

"Sorry," she says, earnestly to your shock, "that sounded like it hurt."

"...It did," you find yourself saying in reply, but still keep your head done.

"Sorry," she says, again, "it's ok," she assures you, "I won't hurt you. I promise."

You peak your head up. The first thing you notice, is how clean she looks. She gives you a bright smile.

"Hi," she says, enthusiastically.

You just blink at her.

"It's ok," she assures again, "my weapon is away. I just - I just wanna talk. I'm a bit lost out here give, you know, everything is mainly just sand."

You guess that's fair. So, against your better judgment, you make your way to the stairs at the bus, and sit down. The woman sits down, letting out a sigh, glad to be able to rest for a moment.

She stretches. You adjust your neck. You must've slept funny.

"I'm Lucy," she says, holding out a hand to you.

"Y/N," you say, shaking her hand. Feels weird, being this open with someone.

"Y/N," she says, "that's a nice name. I never knew someone called Y/N before."

You're about to ask her why, when you see what she's wearing.

You whistle, or as best you can with a dry throat, it's croaky but the idea comes through, "you one of them Vault Dwellers?"

"I am," she says, and you're unsure if it's a proud statement or not, "but, I do also recognise my privilege for being one."

You hum, "how you finding up here?"

"Hot," she says, "we have air conditioning in the vaults. So, it's weird not being able to just turn down the temperature."

You chuckle. She smiles.

"Thank you for not trying to kill me."

You gesture to yourself, "don't exactly have anything to do that with, you know? Besides, you're not a bad person. I've met some bad people, you ain't one of them."

"Thank you. I knew there were good people out here."

You shrug, "I don't think I'm exactly 'good', but I've known worse."

"Well, I'm glad I've run into you. You're alot nicer than the previous man I met."

"Yeah, there'll be people like that..." you pause, then ask the question on your mind, "what brings you top side, Lucy?"

"Oh," there's a hint of hope, mixed with sadness in her eyes while she answers, "I'm looking for my dad. Some horrible woman called Moldaver took him. She steals dads."

You may internally find that last part funny, but you find yourself saying 'I'm sorry' to her about her plight. She thanks you once again.

"You're not crazy like that other man."

She's blunt, you'll give her that.

"I can be," you don't quite know why you're insulted by it.

She cocks her head to the side, "I'm good at reading people," you aren’t sure on that one, but you don't say anything, "and you're not like that previous man."

"What'd he do?"

"Drank most of my water. You ever met anyone like that?"

"Guy pissed on me this morning. Another stole my canteen."

"Oh..." Lucy says. You nod, expecting this to be the end of your conversion, but then she reaches behind herself for something. Instinct makes you freeze, but she just gives you a reassuring smile once again, and holds something out to you.

Her own canteen.

You look at her, doubt, confusion, and thanks all in your eyes at once.

"Take it," she insists, shaking it a little to tell you that there is still water inside it, "I mean it."

"But, that other man --"

"He's greedy. You aren't. And, judging by your lips, rough voice, inability to whistle, and slight grovel to your voice, and the way you hold yourself," perceptive too, "you need this more than I do."

"You sure?" she nods. Hesitantly, looking from her to the canteen as you reach out - her leaning forward to help you with your lack of energy due to dehydration and all - you grab it. It's not harsh, you don't rip it out of her grasp. Your actions are slow, deliberate.

You open it, and lift it up to your mouth, letting a few water droplets hit it.

You close it and give it back to her. But she pushes it to you again. This goes on a few more times.

"I meant what I said," she says, "take it."

You look around at the desert, "next water well won't be for a while."

She shrugs, "there's a town nearby. There should be some there. But, either way, you need this a lot more than I do."

You drink the rest of it. And, you feel ok. Not great, but better.

You cough a bit. Both due to whatever illness you have, and just from the water and how fast you drank it.

"That's a bad cough," she notes, taking the canteen back.

"Ah, it's nothing," you say, waving her off. Had worse infections.

You stand up, and she holds her hands out in case you fall. You put a hand up, telling her you're ok.

"Well," you say, "thank you for that, and the talk. Good people are few and far between. Best of luck --"

"Hey, wait!" she calls out as you start to walk away, "wait, please. Maybe - maybe you can help me."

"I ain't exactly much help given the lack of weapons, strength, and my illness."

She frowns, "well, once we find my dad, we can go back to my vault, we have doctors there who can help you and give you a good meal!"

She's preppy, but soon that softens in her eyes, "please...I can stop people from...urinating on you."

You snort at her disgust of the language. She has a lot to learn. Social ettiquite may exist in some places in the wasteland, but not everywhere.

"Well, when you put it like that..." you say, before smiling. She beams at you.

"Okey Dokey!" she exclaims.

"Okey Dokey!" you find yourself saying in kind, not mocking for once - you and your mouth had gotten you into trouble before, it was nice to not have some agenda with it this time. To let your guard down.

"Have you ever been to Filly before?" she asks you as you walk side by side. Though, she slows up a bit as you try and both get your strength back and keep your remaining bit.

"Once or twice when passing through," you say.

"Alrighty then," she says, glad to not be going in completely blind, "'this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.'" she says to you, clearly quoting something, based on her voice. You look at her confused.

"I'll show you the film when we're back at the vault," she says, before you continue on your way.

It's good to meet someone who didn't want to kill you on sight or extort you or something.

It was nice to not be alone anymore.

Lucy feels the same way. She has a sort of guide now. A friend.

An actual friend from the outside.

She's glad.

And, little did she know how right she'd be. It would be a friendship that would stand the test of time and everything in between.

Lucy had just met her best friend.

You had met yours.

Even if you both didn't know just how dark and dangerous the road ahead would get...

Part 2

[fandomnerd9602]

Lucy: I'm obliged to intervene!

Cooper: what is she yammering on about?

Y/N: it's those vault dweller guide books. She's lost out here.

Cooper: oh

Cooper holsters his gun...

Y/N: listen beautiful, we got no quarrel with you or your amazing sense of social ettiquette

Cooper: Y/N! Stop flirting on the job!

[thebisexualdogdad]

Hung!R and Lucy are hiking along and R touches some weird plant or bitten by a weird animal, and it makes R painfully erect and bigger than normal. Lucy has to help relieve R by making him cum several times, maybe with some special cure (that's basically lotion she has to rub on his dick)

Lucy maclean x male reader

“Are you sure we aren't lost?” You ask Lucy who's confidently walking ahead of you through the forest.

“Y/N I told you I know exactly where I'm going,” she says over her shoulder.

“Are you sure? I'm pretty sure we passed this tree an hour ago,” you reply, seeing a tree with a mark carved into it that you recognized from before.

“Come on mister downer, this way,” she says pushing apart a bush taking you to a new path.

“Ow! What the hell was that!” You yell when you step through the bush, gripping your arm when you feel something cut your skin.

Lucy immediately stops and inspects your arm, a little blood dripping from it, “looks like that spiky plant cut you, you'll be okay.”

She pulls her first aid kit out of her backpack and quickly cleans you up so you can continue on your journey.

It's been maybe half an hour since you were cut and your body was starting to tingle in a way you didn't understand.

“Can we stop for a minute? I'm not feeling so good,” you say and when Lucy turns around she sees something unexpected.

“Oh my gosh,” she blurts out, staring at the lower half of your body.

“What? What's wrong?” You say panicking and looking down not knowing what to expect but then you see it too, an erection creating a huge bulge in your pants.

You cover yourself with your hands not sure why this is happening or why you didn't feel yourself getting hard.

“Are you okay Y/N?” Lucy asks.

“I-I didn't mean too I swear,” you tell her, “I think it was that stupid plant!”

“How did that plant give you an erection?” She giggles.

“I don't know it must have been mutated or something but it hurts,” you say as your erection grows more painful.

“Do you want me to take care of it for you?”

“How? I don't think there's anything in your first aid kit for this.”

“Like this,” she grins, sinking down to her knees in front of you.

Your eyes go wide as she undoes your pants, taking your rock hard cock out, sure you've had sex with her a few times but you were right out in the open now, vulnerable to whoever or whatever passed by.

“Golly it's even bigger than before,” she says wrapping her hand around it and stroking you.

You instantly feel some relief from her touch and let out a low groan.

“Is this helping?” She smiles.

“God yes,” you grunt.

Lucy moves her hand slowly up and down your cock, feeling it throb in her palm.

You can't help the moan that comes out when she takes you in her mouth, this she had never done before.

“Oh fuck Lucy,” you say tangling your hand in her hair as she sloppily bobs her head along your cock.

Eventually she finds a nice steady movement with her hand gripping the base of your cock.

You moan when you cum in her mouth, Lucy doing her best to swallow but has to spit some of it out when she frees you from her lips.

“That was fun,” she chuckles, wiping away some cum dribbling down her chin with the sleeve of her jumpsuit, “do you feel better?”

You look down to see your cock is still incredibly hard and huff in frustration, “why didn't that work?”

“Maybe you need to ejaculate again? Would you like to have sex?” She says unzipping her jump suit to reveal her bra.

You eagerly nod and look around at your surroundings, “over here,” you say taking her hand and guiding her to a nearby tree that you can push her up against and kiss her deeply.

She shrugs her jumpsuit off her shoulders, pushing it down her waist and around her ankles while you kiss and nip at her neck.

It's an awkward angle but when your pants hit the ground you ease your cock inside her, Lucy moaning as you start thrusting your hips with the tree bark scratching at her back.

You soon cum a second time but you're still fully erect so you just keep thrusting, Lucy grasping at your shoulders as she whimpers and sighs.

You palm at her chest over her bra, Lucy reaching a hand down to rub at her clit.

Hitting the right spot inside her she cums around your cock, moaning loudly.

Hearing her sweet moans takes you over the edge for the third time as you ride out your highs together.

This time you finally feel your cock begin to soften, pulling out of her to find you're now flaccid.

“Oh thank God, I don't think I could take anymore,” you say totally out of breath.

“Me too, I'm starving,” Lucy chuckles, pulling her jumpsuit back on.

You stuff your cock back in your pants, “the sun is going to set soon, we should find somewhere to set up camp for the night and I'll make dinner.”

“Sounds good, just don't go touching any plants okay,” she teases.

[freelancearsonist]

hunger

➔ Lucy MacLean (Fallout) x AFAB!Reader

➔ 0.8k words

➔ You teach your best friend something new.

➔ Rated MA // oral (reader receiving), a little bit of internalized homophobia, reader is afab (female anatomy, no pronouns used), two (2) okie dokies

➔ This happened bc @ozarkthedog challenged me to write some lucy porn with no plot (thank you my love <3) i have this condition where i can't write anything less than 1k so i was shook this came to me so easily hopefully it doesn't suck fjsfjslfjs

“I’ve never…”

“We don’t have to,” you quickly counter. The last thing you want to do is pressure Lucy into new territory.

She looks up at you from her position against the pillows with the biggest, prettiest brown eyes you’ve ever seen. “I want to,” she says with an earnest nod that sends her long hair out around her head like a dark halo. “I really want to.”

“Okay.”

This goes against everything you’ve been taught since the two of you were kids. Sex is for reproduction, not pleasure. It’s nothing more than goal-based. It’s all bullshit, of course, and you’ve never been quiet about your thoughts on that–much to the quiet chagrin of the leadership. You hadn’t realized until recently, though, that your childhood best friend feels the same way.

In a flash she’s got you trapped in her arms so she can roll on top of you, drawing a surprised gasp from your lips at the quick flip. She’s a lot stronger than she looks.

“I’ve never been on this side,” she murmurs, breath warm against your neck. “You’re gonna have to show me what to do.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and at first no words come. How long have you wanted to be in this exact position with this exact girl? How could words even hope to convey all the thoughts rushing through your brain right now? “I can do that.”

“Okie dokie.”

Her lips are so soft. There’s a heady contrast between her firm grip on your hips and the feather-light way she makes her way down the expanse of your stomach. There’s confidence in everything Lucy Maclean does, but she looks up at you now as she kisses your hip and there’s nerves swirling in those chocolate brown irises. Underneath her self-assuredness, there’s always been a fear of failure. It’s something you’ve comforted her through a lot over the years.

“Do I just… go for it?”

You can’t help smiling at that wide-eyed eagerness to learn and to please. “You know what feels good to you?”

She nods, fingers unconsciously massaging your spread thighs. She’s already so good at this without even realizing it.

“Start with that, and we’ll go from there.”

She nods again, and that look crosses her face. It’s one you’ve been familiar with since you were both in velcro shoes–sheer determination, resolution to rise to a challenge. You’ve always admired that look. Lucy “never backs down” MacLean is a badass, and you’re lucky to call her your best friend.

She starts with light little kitten licks to your clit, whining as her hips shift to grind against the mattress from your taste alone. She’s a little light on the pressure but you moan anyway to show her she’s on the right track. “That’s it baby, a little harder…”

“I won’t hurt you?”

Your hand comes down to cup her cheek, silently reassuring. “No, honey, you can be rough with it. Feels so good.”

She’s always taken constructive criticism in stride–she pulls away for just a moment to readjust her grip on your spread thighs, and then she returns with vigor. This time, when she seals her lips around your clit and sucks, your moan isn’t even remotely fabricated.

“Like that?” She asks, a proud smile flickering at the corners of her lips as she lets her tongue trail down to taste you properly.

“Yeah, Lucy, fuck.”

“You taste good,” she murmurs into your cunt, matter-of-fact. You can’t help smiling, even through the whine that escapes you as she returns to your clit.

“You’re doing great,” you praise as your fingers tangle into her hair. So soft, so well cared for. Always prim and proper–you love that you get to be the one to unwind her like this.

She’s a remarkably fast learner–in just a few quick minutes, and she has you whining and bucking your hips on the edge of a precipice.

“Oh god Lucy, I’m gonna–”

But you don’t get to finish your sentence, because she doesn’t relent. Her lips seal around your clit and she doesn’t let up until you’re gushing, simultaneously trying to push her away and pull her closer.

“Wow,” she breathes reverently. “Was that good?”

“Incredible,” you sigh. Your bones feel like liquid–it’s all you can do to pull her up into a messy kiss. The taste of your own arousal on your beautiful best friend’s tongue is nothing short of euphoric.

She keeps her mouth locked to yours for a long moment, then you can feel her lips twist into a broad grin. “I want to do it again.”

“Easy killer,” you say with a breathy little chuckle. “It’s your turn first.”

Her eyes widen for a moment, and then she’s nodding her head rapidly. “Okie dokie.”

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[lady-ashfade]

heeeelllooo

saw u were taking yan!fallout requests so..

lucy maclean meeting r first time headcanons?

Lucy Maclean x Reader

╰･ﾟ✧☽ you have no idea how much I am in love her. She is so pretty, so badass and sweet. Let me marry her please?

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: slight spoilers for the show, fluff, survival and wasteland content, short and fluffy.

Meeting lucy for the first time, you’d probably have to be a hero or nice person of some sort for her to trust you a bit at first.

For this lets say you are a trader. But not just any trader….The trader.

You have a small area and have barricaded and set up terminals all over, even a few robots you built (programmed) to defend if anything were to happen.

You had a house inside the walls, along with ones for guests when they come around. It’s a market for other wondering traders do set up shop. It’s a place you pride yourself in for safety of others.

But not only do you sell, you go out and find. You’ll hunt for days for things to bring back, which is why you get so rich.

Anyway moving on, this is how Lucy come across you.

You’ll be searching some old buildings for supplies and happen to come across a vault dweller in need of some help from mole rats. And lucky for her you helped.

After all is send and done you are hesitant to let her roam.

“Look lady, you seem like a fresh fish out of water. And you sure as hell don’t belong here, I suggest you find another place to raid.”

She smiles nervously and tells you she has no interest in hurting you or stealing anything from you…She just wants directions and information.

She’s been tricked, hunting and tortured but you ask her to leave peacefully. She could tell you weren’t a true monster.

“My name’s lucy,” she reaches out her hand slowly

When you take her back to your small settlement she is overjoyed by the kindness you show her. No one around is trying to kill her, and the food and water isn’t as good as her vault but she’s glad she can be safe.

If you offer anything to help her on her journey…She becomes smitten so hard. Yes, she was already interested in you when you saved her and brought her back.

But being a badass and kind human was rare. And boy did she find it hot on you.

[shaunamilfman]

no such thing as bad thoughts

summary: In which you learn to appreciate Lucy's bluntness after a sudden proposition in vault 4.

“You wanna have sex?” Lucy’s cheery voice breaks the silence, tilting her head to the side in question as if she were just asking about the weather.

Your jaw slackens, eyes widening in shock as you process the question. Your mind races as you try to figure out how she could have dropped that bombshell so bluntly, but the more you thought it over, the more in character it felt for her. For all you knew, that kind of thing was par for the course back in the vault.

Across the room, Lucy stares back innocently, legs kicking idly as they hang from the side of the cot. You’d almost question if you imagined the whole thing, if it wasn’t for the mischievous glint in her eyes, suggesting she knew just what she was doing. You can’t hide the grin it brings to your face as you lean back contemplatively, propping yourself up on your elbows. It’s classic Lucy, always surprising you in the most unexpected ways. There’s a certain allure to her unapologetic nature, as if she’s never been told no.

A more thoughtful person would consider how it would impact the long journey ahead. You briefly considered how awkward it could make the situation after— the last thing you needed was to have to navigate a new relationship in the middle of everything else. But then again, when have you ever been one to think things through? 

Fuck it.

“Sure.”

Lucy’s smile radiates warmth, lighting up her face and tugging at your heart in a way that you’re not entirely comfortable with. You try to brush off the thought, but it lingers in the back of your mind like an uninvited guest, refusing to be fully ignored.

She pushes off the cot with a suddenness that you didn’t know she was capable of, her lips meeting yours by the time you’ve managed to get to your feet. You meet the movement eagerly, careful to avoid irritating the cut on her lip. Lucy doesn’t have any such reservations, an urgency underlying her actions that leaves no room for restraint. 

As you graze her injured lip, you worry for a moment that she’ll pull away, but the gasp she lets out assuages any feelings of guilt. She pulls away with a breathless laugh, hand instinctively coming up to wipe away the small droplets of blood from the reopened wound. You’re torn between wanting to apologize and the desire to make her bleed more. There’s a tension between you that only increases as she meets your eyes. You grab her hand before she can attend to it more, pulling her closer as you lean in to capture her lips.

You groan at the faint metallic taste underlying the kiss, almost savoring the taste of it as you meet her with a renewed passion. You’re only vaguely aware of Lucy’s roaming hands until they land on your arms, lingering for a moment to squeeze appreciatively at your upper arms before making their way up to wrap around your shoulders.

Lucy’s grip tightens suddenly, the only warning you get before she effortlessly springs herself off the ground. You stagger back under the unexpected weight, your back colliding with the unforgiving surface of the cot behind you as your arms instinctively encircle her waist. 

Heat absolutely radiates from Lucy’s body as she presses up against you, her warmth seeping through your clothes and making her presence undeniable. Her legs wrap around your waist with surprising strength, locking you in a tight embrace that leaves you breathless.

For a moment, time seems to stand still as you catch your breath, Lucy’s eyes alight with mischief as she smiles playfully at you. You couldn’t help but be swept up in her infectious energy, your own pulse quickening in response as you took her in. 

“That hurt,” you protest, your smile negating any real criticism. Lucy laughs, pointedly running her tongue across the streak of blood you’ve left on her lips.

“Poor thing. Let me make it up to you?” You shiver at the feeling of her nails on the back of your neck, digging into the skin before she slides her hand into your hair and pulls you back towards her.

You stumble forward with a mumbled “Oh, shit,” against her lips as you manage to regain your balance, hands wrapped around Lucy’s thighs as you carry her blindly to her cot. It slams against the wall with the force of your weight, groaning in protest as it bears the brunt of the impact. You run your hands up Lucy’s legs, happy to explore now that you don’t have to hold her up.

Lucy pulls away with a muffled moan as your thumb digs into her inner thigh, squeezing pointedly as the muscles in her thighs flex as her legs tighten around you. You’re quick to try to close the distance again, stopped only by Lucy’s hand pressing against your chest as she leans back. As her hand comes up the zipper of her jumpsuit, any thought of protest leaves your mind, watching intently as the zipper slowly reveals her skin to the room. The sound of the zipper seems to echo through the room, each click heightening your anticipation.

You’re almost surprised by how smooth her skin is, unadorned by the scarring and injury you’ve become accustomed to seeing. You’re struck by a sudden jealousy, imagining what it must have been like to grow up with none of the struggle to survive that marred your own body. You push the thought away as her bra starts to peek through, too caught up in the moment to care about anything else.

She giggles as you abandon your grip on her legs to push her sleeves down her shoulders, eagerly shrugging out of it as it exposes her torso. The material lies discarded against the cot around her, pooling around her hips in a way that makes your mouth water.

As you drink in the sight before you a vivid image passes through your mind– Lucy clad in her jumpsuit, muscles flexing with each movement as she works tirelessly in her vault, the top half of her jumpsuit hanging from her hips as she wipes sweat off her brow. The thought of her strong, capable hands wrapped around a wrench as she fixed… pipes, was it? You weren’t sure it mattered; the thought sent waves of heat through your body as you fought the urge to squirm.

You’re quick to take as much of her in as you can, eyes lingering on her surprisingly firm muscles before sneaking a glance at her chest. There’s no real need for subtlety as Lucy is far from shy, resting her palms on the cot behind her as she pushes her chest forward in a silent invitation. You meet her eyes with a laugh, her endless well of confidence never ceasing to amuse you. 

Lucy shivers as the chill of your hands brushes against her stomach, muscles tensing reflexively at the sensation. You trail your hands up her side, feeling the warmth of her body beneath your touch. As you reach the underside of her bra, you pause, thumbs hooking into the fabric. “I’m going to take this off now,” you murmur, tearing your gaze away from her body to meet her eyes.

She nods, a soft smile playing on her lips as she stares up at you. “Okey Dokey,” Lucy says casually, her voice laced with a hint of amusement as she raises her arms up. With a practiced ease, you pull it up and over her head, disregarding it without ceremony as you free her breasts.

She sighs contentedly as the fabric releases its hold, her body relaxing in a motion that elicits a laugh as her arms flop back to her sides. Lucy shrugs nonchalantly, enjoying the attention even in such a mundane action. “It was tight.”

You hum in understanding as you lean forward to press your lips against the delicate skin of Lucy’s neck. “I’m sure,” you say against her skin, enjoying the way she shivers at the sensation of your warm breath against her. She laces her fingers in your hair as she pulls you closer, an action borne of both desperation and possession. You trail kisses along the curve of her neck, a smile coming unbidden to your face as her pulse quickens beneath your touch.

Her chest rises and falls with each ragged breath, her skin flushed with anticipation as you mark her up. Emboldened by her responsiveness, you tentatively bring your teeth into play, grazing her skin with a gentle pressure. The moan that leaves her throat is nothing short of encouraging, her grip on your hair tightening as she tilts her head backward to offer you better access. You’re quick to take it, marking her neck as your hands come up to cup her breasts. 

She arches into the touch, making you chase her neck back as her chest presses into your hands. As you continue to lavish her with attention, she only gets bolder, and more demanding as her movements become more urgent. 

“Needy,” you murmur between kisses, unable to resist the playful jab as you thumb at her nipples. Lucy huffs out a response, nails digging into your skin with a delicious hint of aggression. It’s not a denial so much as a silent reprimand— a punishment for calling attention to her desire, for finally managing to bring a flush of embarrassment to her face.

“Am not,” she insists, her voice faltering as you pinch her nipple between two of your fingers, eliciting a moan from deep in her throat.

“Are too,” you counter, a mischievous grin playing at your lips that seems to grab all of her attention.

“Am n-not.” She stammers, but her denials ring hollow as her voice breaks as you play with her.

“That’s not fair,” she protests weakly, not looking as if she actually cares as long as you keep touching her. You give her a knowing smile as you caress her, sliding a hand down to press your fingers into a bruise on her stomach just to hear the way she squeaks when you do it. She grabs tightly at your back, pulling you closer with her legs as her hips start rocking against you. 

“Gosh,” she breathes out with a sigh against your ear, her hands tugging insistently where the back of your shirt is tucked into your pants. She protests the absence of your hands the second you take them off of her, an adorable frown making its way on her face as you pull your shirt off as if she wanted to do it herself.

She’s quick to press herself back against you as you discard your shirt, her hands seeking out the straps of your bra as she slips her fingers beneath the fabric. You welcome her exploration, taking a moment to seek out all the bruises and fresh cuts on her body.

You raise your arms up as she starts tugging, almost shivering as her fingers brush against your arms on the way up. Lucy hums in approval as your bra hits the floor, her fingers running along the contours of your body with an air of reverence. She traces a gentle finger over a bruise on your shoulders, her lips pursed in a frown. You give her a reassuring look as you notice her hesitance, redirecting her attention as you reach up to cup her cheeks.

Your gaze lasts just a moment too long, reveling in the warmth of her skin as she nuzzles into your palm. Her eyes seem almost to glow in the dim light of the bunker, her lips parting as you kiss her gently. The kiss is slow and deliberate, her hands exploring your body as she maps out all the available skin with her fingertips. You want to taste every inch of her, to memorize her scent and the way she feels.

You can feel her fingers curl around your belt loops, tugging you closer as she hooks her thumbs in your waistband. You pull away as her inquisitive fingers start playing with the button of your pants, ignoring the sheepish look on her face as you know better than to think she’s capable of shame.

“You’re very attractive,” Lucy says simply, shrugging her shoulders in defense. She looks at you with such wholehearted admiration that it’s hard not to feel something in your chest stir.

“... Thanks?” You say unsurely, caught off guard at the bluntness of it all. Lucy smiles sincerely, if not a little awkwardly. It’s clear that she’s not sure what to say next, and the air between you is thick with uncertainty. 

“You are too,” you offer after a moment, face flushing as you realize how lame that sounds. 

“You’re stunning, I mean. I’ve never seen anything like you before.” It’s said with an earnestness quite unlike you, which Lucy definitely seems to appreciate as her face immediately softens.

“Oh, baby. That’s so sweet,” Lucy says, caressing the side of your face as her hands make their way to your shoulders. She presses down firmly till you sink down to your knees in front of her, looking up at her as she stares down at you affectionately. 

“I think my favorite thing about you is how shy you are,” you joke, shaking your head in amusement. 

She winks warmly, nearly bending in half as she leans down to press a kiss against your forehead. Her lips linger against your skin just a moment longer than necessary before pulling away as she starts pushing her jumpsuit off her hips. You gently slap her hands away, slowly letting it fall to the floor as you trail kisses down her leg.

Lucy seems delighted at this series of events, giggling as you press a kiss against her ankle as you help her step out of it. She cups the back of your neck as you make your way back up her thighs, tracing patterns on your skin.

“Where has all this patience been hiding?” She whines, sighing as you finally make your way between her thighs.

“Oh, Golly,” she breathes out, her hips twitching to meet the touch. You laugh quietly against her thigh, pretending not to see the questioning look she aims at you. 

Lucy tugs gently at your hair as she tilts your head to look up at her. “What’s so funny?”

You raise your head to look up at her, resting your chin on the curve of her stomach. 

“It’s just… Sometimes the way you speak is so dated,” You confess.

Lucy pouts, giving you a playful look. “Are you making fun of me? That’s not very nice, you know.”

“Fiddlesticks,” you mock, instinctively dodging the gentle kick aimed at you. You smirk up at her from between her legs, biting playfully at her inner thigh in response. She gasps, skin flushing as you worry the flesh between your teeth.

“You’re so mean,” she protests, spreading her legs wider to accommodate your shoulders.

You breathe out a laugh, pressing a kiss against the mark you’ve left on her thigh. “Poor thing. How do you deal with it?”

“It’s harder than you think.” There’s a hint of seriousness there that turns your playful smile into a scowl, rolling your eyes as Lucy pointedly ignores your gaze to stare at a crack in the ceiling.

“Whatever.” You scoff.

You grip Lucy’s thighs rougher than deserved as you pull her toward your mouth, but judging from the sound of delight that leaves her mouth, she doesn’t mind much. Her nails dig into the back of your neck as you trace the length of her with your tongue, the sting fading to the background of your desire to touch her.

The scent of her arousal makes your head spin, a heady feeling that makes you eager to bury yourself in her. 

“That’s nice,” she moans, her hand sliding up to grab a fist full of your hair. She doesn’t pull, not yet, but the weight of it feels better than you imagined it would. You squeeze her hip gently in acknowledgment, not wanting to pull away from her for a second.

Lucy squirms on the bed, stuck in a careful dance of slowly rocking against your tongue and maintaining her position on the edge of the bed. Her feet couldn’t reach the ground at the best of times, and with their place over your shoulders, she’s left with a lot less leverage than she’d like. You can’t help but enjoy her frustration. The thought of denying Lucy something she wanted is more pleasant than you anticipated.

“Please,” she exhales shakily, whispering praises into the air as you circle her entrance. She squeezes your head pointedly with her thighs as you tease her, applying gentle pressure to coax you closer. The warmth of her legs against your ears sends shivers down your spine, making you eager to please her as you finally give her what she needs.

The first touch of your tongue against her clit makes her hips jerk so hard you have to steady her with a hand lest she fall off, pressing your forearm against her stomach as you urge her backward. She gasps at the pressure, whining and digging her heel into your back. 

“Please, please, please,” she chants, her hips moving to meet your mouth as she leans back against the wall behind her. You’re more than happy to let her, flattening your tongue as she grinds down against it.

“I want–” Her voice breaks into a moan, her words lost to pleasure. You can feel her dripping down your chin as she chases her release.

Your fingers dig into her hips as she messily rolls her hips, holding her as you help her move against you. Lucy cries out, arching into the sting as you drag your nails down her thighs.

“Inside. I want you inside, please–”

You’re quick to reward her as you widen her stance, slowly slipping two fingers inside her as you mouth at her clit. You stare up at her as her face contorted in pleasure, a strangled noise leaving her mouth as you stretch her open. 

She cries out loudly, utterly unselfconscious as she takes what she needs. You muffle a groan against her as she tugs at a handful of your hair, not wanting to miss a second of the noises she’s making. Her grip is tight, but you don’t mind— it only makes the experience better.

Your fingers move inside her, curling and thrusting as your tongue dances against her clit. The sounds she makes fill the small confines of the room, ensuring that the only thing you could focus on is her.

Her restless hands grab onto any part of you she should reach, the muscles in her stomach flexing and her thighs trembling around you as she cries out. Her back arches as she clenches hard around your fingers, clawing at your shoulders as she comes. 

“Oh, wow,” Lucy breathes out after a moment, bleary in a way you’d never seen her before. Lucy was such a morning person, even when she woke up it was with a wide smile and alert, excited eyes. You watch her fondly as her chest expands and deflates with each ragged breath, an adorably tired look on her face. 

You chase her hand as she trails it across your face, kissing her palm and down her fingertips as she stares down at you adoringly. 

She gently grips your chin as she pulls you up to meet her in a lazy kiss, still breathing hard as she runs her fingertips across your back. 

“You look so pretty when you come,” you say softly, watching as Lucy’s face flushes in embarrassment. She buries her face in your shoulder, hiding herself from view till she manages to get control of her emotions.

Lucy slaps weakly at your shoulder as she pulls away, clearly her throat as she nods in agreement. She’s quick to distract you from the source of your embarrassment, her nimble fingers slipping down to pop the button of your pants open.

She smiles at the quiet gasp that leaves your mouth, her hand pressing against your back to keep you closer to her. She grabs your hips, pulling you closer still as her hand slips beneath your waistband.

“That feels so good,” you whisper, your voice barely a husk.

Lucy laughs, the sound vibrating pleasantly against your skin. “That’s the idea.”

[rick-rayson]

LUCY MACLEAN┊ DATING HCS

A/N: I'm back to feed my own obsessions hi hello beenaminit

NOTES: POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR THE FALLOUT SHOW!! Though I tried to keep it very ambiguous

┊BEFORE DATING:

Let's be honest Lucy probably fell first, whether you're a Vault Dweller or Wastelander it doesn't matter. Despite the privileges of the vaults, Vault 33 has hardwired Lucy's brain to freely feel and act on emotions with vigor.

Having been raised in a meritocracy, Lucy believes the best way to win your affections is through active illustrations of her skills, knowledge, and attentiveness. Very much an acts of service person.

And very, very bad flirting.

"You're really well learned in enacting violence!"

"You're so good at- um- shooting. People."

"How's it going?" She asks as she leans on a rusted mailbox.

It breaks and she falls over.

Just. Really bad.

You're likely aware that she fancies you before she even realizes. She's not good at hiding her expressions at all.

Not so subtly checking you out or admiring you whenever you just, exist, tbh

Despite it all, she won't make the first move to save her life. Tiptoeing on the line of what ifs and what isn't. You're going to have to take one for the team.

┊DATING:

She's actually a huge loser

Absolute girl failure

She's trying so hard though

Proximity is a must. If you're dating Lucy, you quickly become fundamental to her sense of peace.

At first it's a bit much, being in the wasteland kind of messes up her sense of boundaries a bit in a desperation to have you as much as possible.

You have to remind her flat out that it is not, in fact, the norm to follow your partner as they try to find a private place to pee.

She's a bit of a freak honestly.

SOMETHING is up with her but she's so much nicer and kinder than anyone on the surface that you don't mind much.

Uses terms of endearment but sparingly, mostly in private.

You could wake up and look like a feral ghoul and she'd still look at you with a big smile like, "Hey Doll/Hun. Sleep well?"

Craves softness and physical affection but feels as though she cannot have it. Everyone is quick to tell her what kind of person she needs to be on the surface so she's hesitant to express her affections sometimes.

But the more you show her that your touch is not meant to harm, but to love, she'll reciprocate.

Pretty touchy, subtle mostly, a hand on your back, a hand rubbing your arm, tracing your palm with her thumb.

When you two first started dating she very shyly asked if she could place her sleeping bag near yours, you could only laugh.

Whenever she scavenges food (or anything even slightly digestible) she's always offering it to you first.

Sometimes she just craves a really good make-out. She's good at repressing whatever bullshit the wasteland throws at her but she's not about to say no to a make-out session.

Whenever she finds cool knick-knacks she gifts them to you. Pins, random comic books

"I found another Grognak book-! Oh, oh wait, no, no we've already read this one :/"

hats. Lots of hats. Neat hats.

"Well don't you look dapper?" She grins as she places a sun hat on your head.

Honestly depends on you a bit. Though she's aware of the fact the surface is dangerous, it's a different thing to have to experience it.

Tells you all about Vault 33 and what her childhood was like over campfire. You learn very quickly why she is the way she is.

She can be an easy person to sway so she honestly needs you as her rock, her bad cop if you will.

Most nights she'll only sleep if you sleep first, watching over you for a bit before indulging in rest.

Kinda just stares at you a whole lot, but she means well.

Will always be the first to elect to take care of you, and gets a bit possessive in that respect.

Almost completely tackled Maximus to the floor when you got hurt and raced to use whatever she had on hand. She does not care if it's the last Stimpak they have, she WILL do anything to make sure you're okay.

She cares for you so deeply, as you're likely her first ever love.

She falls first, and she falls hard.

Always fixes up your clothes before heading out or patting down your garments, It's a post-apocalyptic wasteland, no one cares about appearances, but you know that Lucy does it to retain a sense of normalcy for herself.

A little thing that she's good at is being persuasive, it's a subtle thing, but Lucy is acutely aware that sometimes batting her eyelashes or giving a pretty please can get her to where she needs or what she wants.

She most definitely uses it on you.

And uh.. NSFW headcanons?

SHE'S A FREAK!

AN ABSOLUTE FREAKZOID!!

That is all. c:

[alottiegoingon]

hc! married life

lucy maclean x fem!reader

summary: meeting lucy + being married to her

warnings: lucy is a dork, established relationship, its 2296-2300ish, it takes place after fallout finale and things get better after it, nothing but fluff and a married couple doing cute shit, no nsfw but mentions of it, quick cannibalism mentions (uh…), wasteland and life outside the vault brief mentions, reader wasn't born in the vault, not proofread, silly plot

when you first met lucy, you found her in the old antique store. you were talking to the not so nice lady that owned the place when you saw her step inside with an inquisitive gaze, observing a bunch of what it looked like junk to you. it was almost hilarious seeing a young woman wearing that goofy ass blue and yellow jumpsuit.

you were leaning against the wall in the corner, listening to all of her chattering about vault-tec. it sounded like nothing but utterly tedious

"it would be safe to assume that you do business with criminals. not judging you. don’t imagine there’s that many other options up here." blissfully unaware of the death stare coming from that lady, she boldly muttered and it immediately made you step out of the corner you were hiding in to save her

"she doesn't mean that! she's new here, sorry." you jump in, forced to intervene, touching lucy's shoulder and giving them a light squeeze. she furrowed her brows in response with your disapproving glance. “wha- who are you? i was just talking about the equipments!”

pulling her away from the place, you hear the hoarse voice behind you saying "fucking vault dweellers."

it didn't take longer than a day for you two to be friends. sharing stupid stories from her vault, fun facts, and learning about each other's life and family was one of the things that you bonded over

while you two were outside once, walking together by the wrecked lanes of what los angeles used to be, and lucy began to talk about her life in the vault and you were more than impressed and in disbelief of how naive vault dweellers could be

"wait, what do you mean?" your face twists at the second you heard lucy saying that the guy she married was an outsider that was responsible for killing half of her vault. "how can you married someone you've never met?"

"well, you see, when you marry someone from another vault, usually it comes with benefits! we gave them seeds and parts for machinery and they offered us a breeder!" lucy explains it all like the good teacher she is, assertively nodding with shoulders back

you forced yourself to repress a laugh by looking the other way, and she immediately noticed and questioned you incredulously but you knew her too well already to notice that she wasn't mad. "what is it?!"

"you people marry strangers for seeds and to have kids? that sounds... miserable. what if they are awful people or outsiders like that guy?"

"okay, when you say it like that..." she loses her shoulders, brushing her confidence away, gulping and chuckling awkwardly. "but you are an outsider. and you aren't that bad."

"careful there. it makes you sound like you are very found of the outsider here, lucy maclean." you stare back at her and see a tender smirk peeking onto her lips. her body slightly leaning against yours, and a soft gaze that swiftly averted when you caught her. she didn't deny it though, you thought

it took her one kiss to invite you to live with her after your mission was done and you gladly accepted.

the invitation was up even after all the truth about her dad. after all the traumatic experience, on the way to your new home, you never left her alone not even for a second. you were always holding hands, sharing glances, leaning against each other and making her giggle as you were losing the track of how many times you kissed her face

in the vault, after everything was settled, you had all the time in the world to take care of her and learn about each other. you would spend hours running your fingers through her hair, listening to whatever she said and playing with her fingers while holding her hand. you would let her talk about all the memories with her family and carefully laugh along or comfort her when needed

you knew that you couldn't erase her bad memories from what had happened but you could create new ones and you focused on that

it was about time when she proposed to you, stuttering, crying and using a bunch of silly expressions like "holy moly" or "jeepers creepers"??!

don't get me started on the honeymoon. yes, you were living in a giant metal capsule but you could swear that as soon as you left the room after days, you were able to breathe fresh air.

lucy wasn’t exactly the easiest person to appease. especially not after finally seeing through the entire “breed” thing that everyone in the vault worshipped so much and experiencing what actually love could be. turns out that sex isn’t something people do just to have kids and “recolonize” the earth, after all

strongly believe that she would be such a loud and whiny girl when you touch her. even the slightest graze would make her legs tremble and she would go like 🥺

"wanna cook together?" "wanna go gardening?" "wanna watch a movie?" "hi, princess, wanna read something together?" "teach me your repair skills?" and her answer would always be "okey dokey" and a huge smile

your favorite part about gardening was to plant food and use it for dinner as you cooked together. and by that, it meant that you would cook while she was happily seating following you around with a cooking book giving you orders like a princess

in other times, you were proud to distract her on purpose by hugging her waist from behind, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. reasonable to assume that the entire room would smell like smoke as she cried at the sight of you on her knees and between her legs, eating her out

when it came to help around the vault, you were a great teacher along with your wife, making sure that all the facts were correct but in a less traumatizing way in order to not scare all the kids with “yeah, so basically all my family got killed by explosions but, hey, i’m here now!”

after a long day, watching movies was your favorite thing to do. one night, when discussing all the different genres of movies that lucy had never seen, you mentioned a specific one

“you know, my grandma used to tell me about this really weird show from the 2020’s where some creepy teenage girls ate each other after crashing into the wilderness.” and lucy’s face goes pale, looking like 😦

“golly gee… i hate it up there.”

[rhiannonsknife]

could I put in a request for Lucy MacLean x Wasteland!reader? you both find shelter and you usually take first watch because you’re used to staying up late. Except Lucy has a habit of making your job harder than it has to be because she just starts yapping and won’t go to sleep right away. Take yesterday night for example, you underestimated her ability to run out of things to talk to you about and you lost about 2-3 hours of sleep because of it. Tonight, Lucy’s about 15 minutes into her yap session when you randomly ask her if she wants to have sex, she’s delighted at the idea and agrees. You wanna tire this woman out, what’s a more efficient method than giving her a few orgasms? (maybe even include this being Lucy’s first time being eaten out?)

── GUILTY PLEASURE

— summary: lucy won’t stop talking.

— warnings: kind of inexperienced!lucy. fem!reader. nsfw content. mdni. this took me a month to edit but here we are.

the shelter you’d stumbled upon earlier isn’t much. it’s hardly anything at all: half a roof, crumbling walls, and a faint musty smell.

still, it seemed better than sleeping under the open sky where god knows what could catch you off guard. so, you decide to settle yourself near the door, leaning against the wall with your weapon in easy reach. first watch, as always.

and, as always, lucy is making it harder than it needs to be.

she’s sprawled on her bedroll a few feet away, her head propped on her pack like a makeshift pillow. the dim glow of the dying embers between you throws flickering shadows across her face, as she talks.

“-and, i mean, who even puts that much trust in a filtration system, you know?” she says, her tone exasperated. “it’s like, sure, the overseers say it’ll last forever, but what happens when the pipes get clogged? no backup system, no-“

you pinch the bridge of your nose, cutting her off before she can spiral any further into whatever story she’s telling you from her life in vault 33. “lucy-“

“what?”

“i thought we agreed you’d try to sleep during my watch!”

“we did,” she says, shifting to rest on her elbows now . never a good sign. “but you’re awake anyway, so it’s not like i’m interrupting anything. besides, you’re terrible at keeping yourself entertained. i’m doing you a favor!”

you give her a flat look. “i don’t need ‘to be entertained’. i need quiet!”

lucy scoffs. “quiet seems overrated. besides, what if something sneaks up on you? you’ll want me awake to watch your back.”

“that’s literally my job right now,” you deadpan, gesturing toward what once was a door.

“okay, fair,” she says with a shrug. “but what if you fall asleep? then we’re both screwed!”

you let your head fall back against the wall with a soft thud, staring at the cracked ceiling. “lucy, if i fall asleep, it’ll be because you spent all night talking about pipes and filtration systems instead of letting me do my job and i’ve bored myself to death!”

“i’m just saying, vault-tec could’ve planned better” lucy goes on after a short pause, like you’ve never asked her to stop at all. “like, one person on maintenance for an entire level? no wonder the water tasted weird that day!”

this has been your dynamic ever since you met her: lucy talking your ear off, filling the silence with anything and everything that comes to her mind.

“do you ever stop?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at her.

“not really,” lucy says, grinning. “another thing,” she leans forward slightly. “i get why you’re all about this ‘quiet’ thing, but maybe you’d actually enjoy these little watch shifts if you talked more. or, you know, let me help you stay awake!”

you scoff. “help me stay awake?”

“yeah,” she says. “like conversations, or games, or- i don’t know, literally anything but sitting there staring into the darkness like some broody protagonist in a bad holotape!”

“you’re unbelievable.” you laugh, despite yourself.

she beams, triumphant, and leans back again, her hands clasped behind her head. “you’re welcome.”

the wasteland beyond the door feels vast and empty, the moonlight barely illuminating the cracked ground and jagged ruins. you focus on the shadows, your grip tightening slightly on your rifle. lucy’s voice continues behind you, her words blending into the ambient hum of the night.

another ten minutes of this pass, your patience wearing thinner with every syllable; your initial plan to just wait for her to get sleepy doesn’t seem to be working.

“if i had been in charge of the vault party planning committee, there’s no way they would’ve run out that fast” she’s currently recalling. “it’s simple logistics. one crate for every-“

“lucy,” you interject, your voice flat.

“what?”

“are you ever going to go to sleep?”

“eventually,” she says with a shrug. “it’s not like i’m bothering you, right?”

you sigh, defeated. “you are absolutely bothering me,”

she ignores that completely, her tone turning thoughtful. “it’s kinda nice, though, isn’t it? i talk, you listen, we bond. i mean, sure, you don’t say much, but that’s probably because you’re so fascinated by what i have to say-“

“lucy…”

“-which i get! not everyone grew up in a vault, so my perspective is pretty-“

“lucy!”

she finally pauses. “yes?”

you turn fully, leaning your shoulder against the wall as you cross your arms. “do you want to have sex?”

the words hang in the air for a beat, and for once, lucy falls completely silent. you watch as her face cycles through surprise, confusion, and delight in rapid succession.

“wait, what?” she asks, already sitting up. “do i- are you serious?”

you shrug, trying to look nonchalant despite the heat creeping up your neck. “you’re not gonna sleep, and you’re definitely not gonna let me do my thing. i figure if i wear you out, i might actually get some peace and quiet tonight,”

lucy blinks at you, and then, once you’re fairly sure she will turn the insane offer down, she grins.

you‘ve thought about it before. not about sex, necessarily, but tamer things: you found yourself staring at lucy in the rare moments when she wasn’t chatting away, eyes studying her features whenever she hadn’t been looking your way. you thought about kissing her, too, about her body against yours and-

well, perhaps you had thought about sex with her.

you never figured out what vault dwellers like her learned about sex down there. only that, presumably, she does seem to know what you’re on about, judging by her enthusiasm.

“this is the best thing you’ve suggested so far,” she says, already tossing aside her blanket and crossing the small room to stand beside you.

lucy lingers above you for a moment, her eyes scanning over you as if weighing her next move. she takes her time. when she finally lowers herself into your lap, it’s with purpose, every movement measured. her weight presses into your thighs, grounding you in place, while her palms rest on your shoulders. lucy’s thumbs gently trace circles on your skin through your clothes as her eyes search yours.

to your surprise, you are the first to falter under her gaze, something lucy so clearly relishes. a satisfied glint flickers in her eyes just before her hands glide up, fingers curling around your jaw as she cups your face. without warning, she tilts your head back, guiding your gaze to hers again, brushing absently over the corner of your lips.

“don’t look away now,” she murmurs, a teasing rasp, her breath ghosting over your skin.

her thumb and forefinger catch your chin, holding it firmly as she hovers there, close, her lips parting ever so slightly as if to speak.

just when you think you can’t stand it any longer, lucy finally leans in.

her lips meet yours, soft at first, almost tentative, like she's waiting for some kind of reaction. she grazes the sides of your face, memorizing the feel of you beneath her touch. the kiss deepens quickly, the tension from earlier bleeding away into something much softer, more urgent.

her confidence only falters when she first tries to grind down against your pelvis, searching for a friction you cannot provide. you’re not sure what she had expected, or if she’s moving on instinct, but this is when it seems to sink in that lucy is in no position to fully take the lead here.

“are you a virgin?” you blurt at her puzzled expression.

“no!” lucy says, shaking her head. “no, it’s not- i got married remember…?” she grimaces, recalling the events that had followed her rather short lived ‘marriage’ in vault 33.

“okay, so…” you start. “what’s going on here, then?”

“i-” her gaze flicks between you and some point over your shoulder. her cheeks flush. “i just- well, you know, it’s not that different, right?”

“lucy…” your voice softens, even as you fight back a laugh. “do you actually know what you’re doing?”

“yes!” she says immediately, too quickly. then she hesitates. “well…sort of?”

you give her a look, and her face crumples into a sheepish grimace.“okay, fine, no,” lucy admits, throwing her hands up in defeat. “but i wasn’t going to say that out loud! i thought i could just…figure it out as we went.”

you sigh, though there’s no real annoyance in it. “you’ve been with someone before. why didn’t you-”

“because it’s different!” she interrupts, her voice rising again. “i mean, for one thing, he wasn’t…” she waves her hand vaguely in your direction, her words trailing off like she’s afraid to finish the thought.

“a woman?” you supply.

“yes, exactly,” lucy nods. then, as if to clarify: “not that that’s bad! it’s just- i don’t really know what i’m supposed to- how i’m supposed to…” her voice fades again, and she presses her lips together, clearly frustrated with herself.

“lucy,” you say gently, drawing her attention back to you. “it’s not something you’re supposed to just know. especially if…” you pause, hesitant to touch on something that might sting. “especially if it wasn’t…encouraged where you grew up,”

she frowns, her brows pulling together. “yeah, well, vault 33 wasn’t exactly a…bastion of sexual enlightenment! marriage, reproduction, carrying on the bloodline…i suppose it was always about the next generation, never about- this!”

lucy sighs.

“and, look,” her words come in a rush now, like she’s determined to explain everything before you can judge her. “it’s not like i have a problem with it! i mean, clearly, i don’t, because we’re, uh, doing…whatever this is. i just…i guess i thought it’d be easier to figure out!”

you reach up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. all your previous annoyance has melted away, replaced by a need to show her that this -sex- could be about so much more than just reproduction. “you don’t have to figure it out all at once, you know. we’ve got time!”

lucy’s gaze meets yours, hesitant but hopeful. “we do?”

“yeah,” you say softly, your fingers lingering against her cheek. “you don’t have to take the lead here, either. just…trust me, okay?”

“okay,” she says quietly. “okay, i trust you,”

“good,” you lean up, brushing your lips against hers, slow and careful. her shoulders relax immediately, and when she kisses you back, it’s sweeter than before: less frantic, more curious, like she’s letting herself feel everything for the first time.

you kiss her slowly at first, moving your lips in sync with lucy’s. she’s following your lead now, letting you set the pace of your mouths. she still seems as eager though, and when she starts moving her hips again, you’re prepared:

instead of your pelvis, you maneuver her so that she’s grinding on your thigh, finally giving her access to the friction she’d been searching for.

“o-oh-“ lucy mewls softly, her head lulling back as she ruts against you for a little while. you can feel the warmth radiating from between her legs already, damp through the fabric of her suit.

taking it off will be a risk, of course: stripping naked would make a quick escape damn near impossible. but you decide that, as you feel her arousal drag over your leg, lucy maclean is worth every risky decision that might come with it.

so, as she moves against you, as high-pitched moans start spilling from her throat, you reach for the zipper of the blue suit. it parts smoothly, the soft scraping of the interlocking metal echoing in the otherwise quiet space.

you look up at lucy, only vaguely aware of the white bralette that comes into view now that you’re unzipping her clothes.

you don’t want to make her uncomfortable by blatantly staring but the skin that’s revealed to you makes it impossibly hard. so, instead, you choose another way to show off your appreciation: without tearing your eyes from hers, you lean in and press your mouth to the flesh between her collarbones, then move lower.

lucy gasps, her lips parted and her brows slightly furrowed. it’s her who peels the sleeves of her jumpsuit from her arms, who lets it pool by her hips and reaches for you all over again. who urges you closer by the back of your head with one hand, while the other grabs the hem of her underwear.

“wow,” you gasp, dumbfounded when lucy -your lucy- tugs the bra upwards enough to free her bare chest from the restrictive fabric. she smiles, shyly, and tilts her head.

her nails sink into your shoulder the second your mouth closes around her nipple; she’s responsive there, more than you ever were, more than you thought she’d be. so responsive that lucy starts moving her hips more frantic when you roll her other nipple between your index and thumb.

and still…”more,” she whines softly, greedily, dragging her soaked center across your flexed muscle. “i want you to touch me,” she breathes. “please”

you trail slow, open mouthed kisses down her torso, your hands gliding over the curve of her back. you press lower, as far as you can reach, until your neck twists at an almost painful angle and lucy's hand finds the back of your head, cradling it gently.

that’s when you shift, moving her body so she’s leaning against the wall and you’re positioned between her spread legs.

lucy watches you through curious eyes, studying your every move as you get to kiss down her body more comfortably. you hold the eye contact, despite the need to stare at her chest (her nipples still hard and wet with your spit) until you have to pull the zipper lower and peel the fabric from her legs.

you slide it off and tuck it beneath her, allowing lucy to rest on it rather than the dirty floor, leaving her in a pair of panties matching the white bralette.

lucy’s body shudders as you kiss back up the expanse of her legs, the muscles in her thighs tensing. obviously, you don’t stop there: you crawl up further and further until you’re almost at the apex, reaching for the waistline of the underwear and-

her legs clamp together suddenly, forcing you back.

“what-“ lucy stammers, unsure. “what are you doing?”

“i was gonna-“ you lick your lips, dropping your hands to her hips. of course lucy has no idea what you were going to do. “can i-“ you consider your words, unsure how to explain it so she’ll understand. “-put my mouth there?”

lucy’s eyes widen. “you want to-”

“please,” you whisper. “please, can i eat you out?”

lucy -her own want betraying her- whines, her hips jerking towards your mouth. from here, between her legs, you can see the wet patch of arousal that has soaked through her underwear.

“okay,” she pants, nodding frantically. “okay, yes. please!”

immediately, you reach out, hook your fingers underneath them and pull the panties down her thighs. you take your time making sure to securely place them in one of the suit’s pockets so they won’t get dirty, before finally turning your gaze back to lucy, who’s waiting in anticipation.

she lets you take in the sight with a nervous look on her face, biting the side of her index.

your fingertips absentmindedly trace the skin, watching the way lucy’s body parts for you. she is beautiful, endlessly beautiful, glistening with arousal, and framed by coarse hair.

“i’m sorry, i should’ve-“ she begins, but you immediately hush her.

“you’re beautiful,”

lucy inhales breathlessly, her fingers forming a v-shape and spreading herself open for you to see.

“fuck-“ you mutter under your breath. lucy’s clit is throbbing.

slowly, you make your way up her thigh. in response, lucy buries her fingers in your hair, sighs softly as she invites you in, and spreads her legs wider.

you nudge her skin with your nose, nipping on the tender flesh.

the first time you put your mouth on lucy, her legs close around your head. her jaw goes slack and her brows furrow in concentration, adjusting to the new sensation.

you start with featherlight kisses to her swollen clit, each making her buck her hips against your face.

“o-oh!” lucy stammers from above, looking almost confused, surprised by how good your lips feel as they brush over her. “that feels so good,” she breathes finally, her body rolling down against your tongue.

“yeah?” you murmur, soothingly wrapping your arms around her thighs to hold her open as you circle her clit with the tip of your tongue.

“mhm,” lucy nods, but it comes out more like a whine at a particular good press of your lips. just as lucy buries her fingers in your hair, seemingly wanting to push you closer, you push her apart and lick a broad stroke right through her, getting your first actual taste.

instinctively, your eyes roll back, the lewd moan that rips from your throat drowned out by her skin.

“g-god-“ she stutters. “that’s- ah- good.”

unbeknownst to lucy, the sweet praise goes straight to your center. if you had a pillow, or anything useful around, you’d shove it between your legs and grind on it while you eat her out.

but, regardless of your own lack of relief, her words encourage you to lick deeper, to move faster inside of her and show her all that she’s been missing out on. you alternate between fucking your tongue into her, and wrapping your lips around her clit to suck on it, all while lucy pulls your closer, guiding your tongue to where she needs it the most.

you gladly let her, ignoring the occasional sting of your scalp at sharper tugs.

for a while, you eat lucy out like that, getting lost in each of her desperate attempts to stifle her sighs and her taste in your mouth. her words have morphed into muffled babbles above you, incoherent sounds of pleasure.

it doesn’t take long at all until she is getting closer: her head has lulled back against her bag, her moans come out more ragged and breathless, and the leg she has thrown over your shoulder trembles with tension as she pushes her heel down on your spine to urge you closer.

instead of teasing lucy, you go right for it.

your lips close around her clit again, just as two of your fingers sink into her. squirming above you, lucy mindlessly grinds her hips to your face, aching for that release. she chants little ‘ah, ah, ah’ sounds, her cunt tightening around your fingers so much it’s hard for you to thrust them in and out of her.

both your nose and your chin are covered in lucy’s wetness, glistening in the dimly lit space as her hands curl to fists in your hair.

“i feel…” she begins, trailing off. you’re not sure she knows what she’s feeling. or maybe she’s in disbelief because you only have your hands and mouth to use on her and still it’s enough.

either way, you encourage her, putting your thumb in place of your lips, rubbing her clit with the wet pad of your finger to keep her on the edge. “that’s it,” you mumble.

lucy chokes on her noise of approval and just nods her head instead. “yes,” she whispers, over and over, like a prayer. “yes, yes, yes! i’m gonna-“

that’s all of a warning you get before her whole body tenses. her lips are parted in a silent scream, her hips jerk forward once more before it all comes crashing down on lucy. the sound she makes is somewhat between a cry and a moan of your name and she arches her back from the ground when she cums.

you manage to tear your gaze away from her convulsing cunt to catch a glimpse of her, so lost in the haze of her pleasure: lucy’s eyes are shut tightly, her head thrown back so much that the entire expanse of her neck is on display for you.

her walls tighten around your fingers, trying to suck you in deeper, to keep you in place while she trembles with the force of the orgasm she’s riding out on you.

only when her body has stopped shaking, you lean back, not wanting to push her too far. she’s already given you more than enough.

“phew,” lucy says once she’s caught her breath. it’s so ridiculously lucy you have to bite back a laugh. “is it- is it always like this?” she asks by the time you’ve crawled back up her body and slumped down by her side.

you reach for her, not even thinking about it properly until you’re already cradling her face, your thumb grazing over her jaw soothingly. lucy doesn’t seem to mind.

“no,” you manage quietly, taking in her features in the dark. “no, it’s never been like this.”

luct turns her head to look at you, her expression open. she’s still flushed, her hair mussed, her lips kiss-swollen, and she’s smiling.

“i liked it,” she says, voice hushed. then, as if realizing how simple that sounds, she rushes to clarify: “not just because of- well, you know…but because it was you!”

you swallow hard, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. “yeah?”

lucy nods, shifting so she’s curled against your side, her fingers idly tracing patterns against your arm. “yeah.” a beat passes, then: “i think i wanna do that again. like…a lot.”

you laugh outright at that, tilting your head to press a kiss to her temple. “you really are something else, maclean.”

she hums, pleased, before shifting closer, tucking herself against you like she belongs there. you don’t realize how quiet it’s gotten until lucy is fast asleep in your arms.

[thatpersonthatisgenderfluid]

Lucy Maclean Headcanons 18+

• She is the sweetest and plans the cutest little dates.

•  Gets up in the morning and defiantly watches you sleep. She thinks you are so cute.

• Definitely says I love you first like come on. She falls first too

•She plays this your hair as you lay your head her her lap.

•She is fascinated by everything so if you have tattoos she is always touching them. It is innocently in the beginning. You are laying in bed and she plays with your ear piercing as she reads.

•Then she finds out about your nipple piercing. Touching and grabbing it when she can. Laying in bed her hands up your shirt tugging on them. At first she doesn’t seem to realize until she feels the way you tense. The shortening of your breath and she smirks.

• Loves romantic gestures

•She yaps all the time about anything she can think so

•The first time you guys have sex it is so romantic. It throws her for a loop when you start kissing at her thighs. She hasn’t had anyone go down on her and she seems a bit resistant.

“Love, we don’t have to it is ok. When ever you are ready.”

“NO… wait I want to”

•You kiss her stomach and tease her. She gets so desperate leaning into any touch she can have.

•Her hands grips yours as you kiss just on her pelvic bone. Her eyes bore into you

•The first lick and her hips buck. You have to hold her hips down to stop her from aching her back. The grip of her thighs suffocating you. She is dripping wet.

•She loves oral and prefers It over penetration.

•She is lowkey a pillow princess.

•She can only think about how your mouth feels on her and the way you touch her.

•You let her ride your face and she finds it so hot. The grip on her hips to keep her grinding against your nose. The head board shakes and her bed shakes. You get the view of an angel succumb to pleasure. Her hair sticks to her face, her eyes rolled back, and her hair dug into your hair.

•” gee whiz that was amazing.” She says laying her head on your chest. “You are a dork.” You kiss her forehead gently.