#doki my beloved :( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sparrowxlake · 23 days ago

Text

Silent Vow - Lucy Maclean x Fem!Reader

summary: the trail has gone cold, leaving you and Lucy to look for leads in the last settlement before the Mojave. she's struggling with the weight of recent revelations and you think you know just what she needs to lift her spirts.

warnings: 18+ content minors dni, angst, smut, vaginal fingering, oral, lucy tops, f!reader recieving, masturbation

From your position, comfortably leaned against the post outside of the bar, you’ve got a good view of the busy marketplace. It’s early in the evening, and the market is bustling with activity. Stands are tightly packed into the dusty square, dozens of people weaving in and out of the crowd.

You’ve already done your part here, asking around from the store owners in the area. It’s been a couple of days since the trail had gone cold, Hank Maclean seemingly disappearing into thin air. After his escape back west, Lucy’s been searching with a mix of fervor and apprehension. You’re not sure what it’s for, in the end, but you’re more than happy to help your companion see things through.

This settlement is the last before an unforgiving stretch of road leading toward the Mojave. Last chance to catch any leads before you spend a few miserable days traveling toward Nevada. Lucy puts on a brave face, because it’s in her nature, but you sense the anxiety bubbling underneath it all.

Still, when she turns your way and catches your eye, it’s as if that worry she’s holding onto slips away, if just for a moment. She beams, a broad smile spreading across her features as she sends you a thumbs up. It would be easier keeping your composure in the face of a Deathclaw, you think, than not crumbling at the sight of that smile.

She returns to the salesperson she’s speaking with, and you hope for her sake that someone here has some information for her. As it stands, you’ve been unsuccessful with your own shakedowns. Nobody in the past three settlements has any idea where this guy could have gone.

When you reconvene with your companion, she looks eagerly to you to speak first. You rock back on your heels as you give an apologetic shrug. “Nothing.”

“Really? You asked in all the shops? Maybe I could-” “Lucy,” You say, reaching out to rest your hands on her shoulders, steadying her.

Her expression has shifted from hopeful to crestfallen. Frankly, she looks exhausted, dark circles ringing her eyes. Since her confrontation with her father and the chaos that followed, Lucy’s been slowly spiraling toward full-on hopelessness. You’ve been doing your best to keep her spirits high, and she does try - maybe more for your benefit than her own.

“We’ll find him. We can check again tomorrow, alright?” You offer, lightly squeezing her shoulders in a reassuring gesture.

When she looks down, her eyes are stormy with a mix of emotions. Frustration, fatigue, grief. You don’t blame her. Her whole world was blown up in a moment, and she’s left to put back the pieces. She knows she doesn’t have to do it alone, that she can rely on you, but it doesn’t diminish the fact that things are utterly broken.

“C’mon. Let’s find somewhere to rest for the night. We both need some sleep.”

You find a place to stay, more bar than inn, but you don’t complain when there’s a cheap bed. It’s not an especially nice room, but it certainly beats sleeping on the ground.

The bed is small, no more than a mattress on a rusty frame. There’s a small table, a lamp, a broken dresser. What’s really surprising is the attached bathroom. It’s dingy, but it has running water and a shower. You can’t help but light up at the thought of properly cleaning up. There’s only so much one can do with bottled water and a rag.

You let Lucy take a turn first, hoping the opportunity to clean will help brighten her mood. You wait on the edge of the bed, twiddling your fingers, reflecting. It’s been a difficult few weeks since you met Lucy. Things have changed so quickly between the two of you and it’s hard to make sense of it. You had thought of it as a job at first, helping her find her father. Lugging around a rotting head for the benefit of a near-stranger. And then, you found yourself falling for her, quicker than any previous romances. Lucy is very different from the women you’ve been with before. It’s not just that she’s from a vault, it’s her outlook. There’s a certain jadedness that comes with surviving the wasteland, something Lucy just doesn’t have. She tackles life with a smile and sunny disposition. You feel this need to protect that part of her, to keep the wasteland from taking that from her.

In the end, it may be the person who instilled her with those values that ends up undoing her. You shudder at the thought.

She’s so strong. You think that the sort of blows she’s been dealt would leave you utterly broken. A whole life, shattered.

Just when you think you might check on her, Lucy emerges from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. She looks a little refreshed, you decide. Progress.

You make your shower quick, eager to get back out to your companion. It makes you a little nervous to leave her in the room by herself, alone with her thoughts. So you scrub the grime and dirt from the road away at a breakneck pace under a spray of uncomfortably cold water.

You take a moment to scrub your clothes as well, not having an abundance of spares. You take what opportunities you can to clean them. Lucy’s done the same, leaving her clothes hanging on one of the towel racks. You sling yours over the curtain rod before exiting the bathroom.

She’s right where you left her, bundled up in a towel sitting on the edge of the bed. She looks up at you and forces a smile. It doesn’t reach her eyes.

“You wanna talk about it?” You ask, settling next to her, sitting shoulder to shoulder.

Lucy sighs, arms tightening around herself. “I don’t know what to say that hasn’t already been said.” “Say it again, then, if you think it’ll help.” You nudge her and offer a reassuring look.

“Not sure if stewing in misery has ever helped anyone,” She mumbles, brows knitting together. “But sure, worth a try right? I’m sure talking about how my whole life has been a big lie, how everything I was raised to believe has been a complete joke. How my father, who I’ve idolized like a complete idiot, is an actual monster who’s responsible for who knows how many deaths. That’s not even including the people who’ve suffered because of him. Because of me…”

She presses her face into her hands, body tensing. She curls in on herself, nails biting into her arms as she grips herself.

“And I shouldn’t feel guilty, right? I was a little girl, I didn’t even remember it, not really. I shouldn’t feel guilty, but I do. For being here. For having the nerve to come out here and stumble through the wasteland with my stupid, naive attitude. I mean, I really thought I could just come up here and smile my way through the wasteland and bring Dad back home-”

Her voice breaks and she laughs dryly. It’s a soul crushing sort of laugh that makes your heart ache more than you thought it could.

“I don’t think you’re stupid. You couldn’t have known about him, about any of it. You did what you thought was right, and nobody can fault you for that,” You reply, voice soft, carefully offering comfort. You don’t want her to think it’s disingenuous, and it’s not.

“Lucy, you’re not wrong for feeling any of this. But, none of this is your fault. What he’s done isn’t a reflection of you.”

Lucy’s head snaps up at this and her eyes blaze with anger. “If I’m not a reflection of him, then what am I? All my life, everything I’ve done, it’s all been for him. To be him. To make him proud.”

You take a breath, steeling yourself. She laughs again, bitterly now.

“You’re not him. You’re you. Sure, he’s a part of you, the same way your whole community is part of you. Everyone that’s ever meant something to you is in there, right? Your brother, your friends, your mother. That’s all there too.” Lucy watches you, anger shifting into something else. You’re not quite able to read into her expression, so you continue, digging deep to find your conviction:

“The way you were raised, your beliefs, Golden Rule and all, that’s not wrong just because he taught it to you. You shouldn’t let him take that from you too.”

She looks away from you, eyes glassy. You reach out, gently taking one of her hands. She tenses at the touch, just for a moment, then intertwines her fingers with yours. Lucy doesn’t cry. She’s tired of crying over her father. Tired of crying over anything, frankly. Just tired.

But she allows herself to feel all of it as she thinks about your words.

It’s a while before she responds, sitting still as a statue next to you, your fingers still intertwined. She opens her eyes finally, looking at you, having found her resolve again.

“I think I needed to hear that. Thank you.” Her voice is soft, just about a whisper. She leans her head against your shoulder tentatively before relaxing into your side.

You press a kiss into her still-damp hair, a reassuring and affectionate gesture. “Anytime, Lucy.”

She hums appreciatively, squeezing your hand gently. “Go ahead and tell me more nice things. Help rebuild a poor girl’s self-esteem.” You laugh softly at that, meeting her gaze. She’s starting to get a familiar warmth back in her eyes, and it makes you melt a little bit. “Hmm… What can I say that hasn’t already been said about Lucy Maclean?” She makes a face, features scrunching slightly. You melt further, expression softening. Her cheeks start to tint pink at your look. “Let’s see… You’re a good person. So full of empathy for others that sometimes it pisses me off. You want to see the good in everything. And you’re good at it. I can’t even really be mad because you’re so genuine.” You find yourself leaning in closer, shifting slightly where you’re seated so your knees bump together. “You really believe the world could be better than what it is. That we could really come together and make something out of this mess. You make me feel like there’s some hope. Like there’s a future worth working toward.” This time, she’s the one moving closer. “I don’t know about that… I want to run back to the vault half of the time and just forget about this.” “But you don’t. You’re still out here. I know we aren’t going east just for revenge or something petty.” She shrugs, eyes alight with something akin to amusement. Lucy can’t help the smile that’s starting to spread across her features.

“Oh, one more. You’re going to really like this one,” You say, sitting up straighter, voice full of confidence and bravado. “You’re really, really pretty.”

Lucy tries to make a disapproving face, but loses composure and laughs. It’s the first real laugh you’ve gotten out of her in days. It’s like music, you could listen to that sound all day.

You aren’t sure if it’s you or her that closes the distance, but your lips meet in a soft kiss, both smiling into it. Everything feels warm and fuzzy, like snuggling into a warm blanket. You’re enveloped by a sense of comfort, affection, connection. It’s a better high than any chem.

The air slowly shifts from a comfortable warmth to a static tension, each touch, each kiss, sending sparks through you. You don’t want to push her into something she’s not comfortable with, but when you pull away she’s following to close the distance again, kiss insistent, deeper, hungrier.

Her arms wrap around your neck, hands in your hair. Your stomach lurches deliciously as she traces her tongue over your lips.

This time, she is the one pulling away, taking ragged breaths as she tries to catch her breath. Your eyes meet and it sends a shiver down your spine. She holds your gaze, eyes dark with desire.

Before you can ask, she’s saying, “I need you.”

You just nod, eager to please. You set yourself to the task at hand, determined to take her mind off of any unpleasantness, to help her forget her troubles for tonight.

Your mouth finds her neck, pressing kisses along the sensitive skin as she holds on to you, sighing softly as your lips brush along her skin. You want to see that every inch of her is appreciated, is cared for, is worshipped.

She’s tossing aside her towel, then yours, before your hands even think to do it. She pushes you back to straddle your waist, leaning forward to capture your lips in a searing, possessive kiss. It all happens so quickly, your head is left spinning. “This is supposed to be about you, Lucy,” You manage to get out between kisses.

She pulls back enough to look at you properly, smiling innocently, as if she doesn’t have you naked, pinned at the shoulders. “It is.”

You don’t fight her on this. If she wants control, you’re happy to give it to her. You relax under her, hands resting on her waist as she presses a quick kiss to the tip of your nose. Your heart clenches and you look up at her with adoration. In this moment, you think she’s very much like her own sort of nuclear weapon. Warm, bright, completely devastating.

Lucy gets a certain look when she tops, a confident determination. She has it now as she sits up and lets her eyes rake over your body, trailing a hand slowly down your throat, between your breasts, stopping short of your navel. You swallow thickly, the movement drawing her attention back to your throat. Another innocent smile as she leans down and ghosts her mouth over your skin.

You whine, fingers digging into her soft skin. The sound only spurs her on, nipping and sucking a path down your throat to your collarbones, leaving a trail of wet, red marks. Your hips shift involuntarily, bucking upward, seeking friction and finding none.

Feeling you shifting under her, she repositions herself, careful not to break contact between her mouth and your skin, slotting a thigh between your legs. You’ll have to make due with it for now, grinding lazily against her leg, wishing it were her hands or mouth. She smiles against your skin, making a low sound in her throat.

Your hands trace up her sides, over her back, mapping out the planes of her body under your eager fingertips. Every touch is like a jolt of static, rippling through your body and igniting a heat low in your stomach. You ache for her, the grinding against her leg doing little to sate your hunger. You whine again, needier than before.

“Tell me you want me,” She says, voice muffled by your skin.

Her mouth is on your chest now, tracing her tongue over the curve of your breast. Her pace is maddening, a slow and torturous assault on your senses. When you don’t give the response she wants, she bites, just hard enough to refocus your attention. You give a sharp cry, more surprised than anything.

“I want you, Lucy. Please, don’t stop,” You gasp, voice ragged and rough.

Her eyes flick upward to meet yours for a moment, swirling with need and dark intentions, before returning her attention to your chest. Her mouth kisses and licks over your breast, her hand attending to the other. You arch up into her touch, soft moans falling from your lips whether you want them to or not.

Your body responds of its own volition, writing under her every agonizing touch. It’s a sweet torture, one that you’d readily submit yourself to again and again. She pulls her head back and your hands fly to her face, pulling her back up into a rough kiss. Lips against swollen lips, tongues and teeth, leaving your mouths smeared with saliva.

“More, please,” You plead, hips rolling against her thigh insistently.

She nods eagerly, mouthing over your jawline as her hand travels down your stomach, between your thighs. Your hand grips her wrist, guiding her hand down. She lets you, smirking against your jaw.

You whimper when her fingers finally make contact with your folds, still gripping tightly to her wrist. Her touch is feather-light, less teasing and more worship as she traces over your slit, slowly, deliberately. Your head falls back against the mattress, muscles quivering with the intensity of your building need. It’s too much and not enough. You want her to delve in to you and you want this torture to continue on into forever.

“All this for me?” Lucy teases softly, breath hot on your ear.

“Can you blame me?” You respond breathlessly.

“Guess not. I am good at this, right?” Her voice is still teasing, but there’s a cocky undertone, because of course Lucy’s cocky.

In the short time you’ve known each other, Lucy has proven herself a fast learner across the board. Sex has been no different. She’s gotten you down to a science. If she wanted to, you’re sure she could take you apart with a few precise touches.

“Shut up and fuck me already.” Lucy laughs again, warm and light. It’s the kind of laugh that would have you melting, under different circumstances. But, as it stands, your skin is ablaze, body so consumed with a desperate need for the woman on top of you, the last thing you’re thinking about are warm and fuzzy feelings.

“Okie-dokie, you asked for it.”

She continues the slow strokes of her fingers a moment longer, before moving down between your legs. Her mouth replaces her hands, tongue delving into your folds, moaning against your core. You fist your hands in the sheets as she flicks the end of her tongue over your clit, drawing out a high whine.

Your mind is a haze of lust and disjointed thoughts. You can hear yourself whining and moaning and begging incoherently. All you can do is chase your fast-approaching release as Lucy’s mouth works between your legs.

Her fingers press just below her mouth, slipping into you with little resistance. Her thrusts are shallow and slow, working in time with the pace of her mouth. You arch up, your hips roll, seeking more friction, more pressure, just more.

“Lucy, please,” You plead, unsure of what you’re begging for. For release, for her to never stop? Either way, she smiles against you, pulling back for a moment to assess her work.

“You’re already so close. Hold on a little longer. For me.” Her voice is so soft and affectionate. Lucy’s mouth doesn’t return to where you need it, not right away. She nuzzles into your thigh gently, pressing gentle kisses as her fingers fuck into you, curling inside of you, setting every nerve ending alight across your body. You cry out, desperately grinding into her hand.

Her mouth is back again, sucking your aching clit into her mouth. You garble out a mix of curses and pleas, hands flying to her hair to keep her firmly in place, giving you better leverage to grind against her face in desperate need. There’s nothing else, just Lucy, the dual stimulation between your clit and pussy, the edge you��re hanging over.

Lucy focuses intensely on bringing you to your release, upping her pace to a relentless assault. She needs this as much as you do. Through your unfocused eyes, you’re aware that she has her free hand between her own legs, chasing her own release as she brings you to yours.

The sight of it has your hurtling over the edge, orgasm ripping through you with an unexpected intensity, like a tidal wave. You’re consumed completely by your release, vision whiting out, voice crying out hoarsely, throat burning from overuse. Your hips stutter against her face, but she dutifully licks and fucks you through your orgasm. When you finally start to come back to yourself, she’s the one seizing up, choking out a moan, face pressed into your thigh.

You’re utterly spent, or you might try to drag her up to initiate round two. Boneless, you lay panting and trembling with Lucy collapsed between your legs, riding out the high of her own release. Your hands are still in her hair, you realize, loosening your grip on her as you begin to gently stroke her brown hair.

You both bask in the quiet for a time, comfortable in the quiet intimacy of the dim room. Lucy moves first, though she doesn’t move far. She rests her hands on your stomach, laying her head overtop of her hands, gazing up at you affectionately. She’s got a silly, lopsided smile, so pretty you think you could cry.

“You alright?” Lucy asks gently, though the cocky edge to her tone is still present.

You’d roll your eyes if you weren’t so thoroughly fucked into exhaustion. “I’m great. That was… yeah, that was good.”

Her smile broadens, eyes sparkling. You lightly push against her face, turning her to look anywhere else. She laughs, pushing back against her hand. “Don’t let it go to your head,” you tell her, suppressing your own bubbling laughter.

She moves again, settling beside you so she can pepper kisses over your face as you squirm uselessly against her, her arms snaking around your waist. She holds you firmly in place so all you can do is endure her assault. By the end, you’re both lost in a fit of giggles. It takes some time to regain composure, but when you do, she pulls you into a gentle kiss, slow and easy, like you’ve done it a thousand times before. Like you’ll do a thousand times again.

“Thanks for that. I didn’t realize I needed it,” She murmurs once she’s had her way with you, face nuzzling into your neck.

“Feels like I should be thanking you. But yeah, any time,” You reply, sounding almost shy.

You trace idle patterns over her shoulders, marveling in the feel of her skin under your fingertips. Her arms tighten around you, as if she could pull you into her, becoming one body. You sigh contentedly, looking up at the ceiling.

When you two are like this, fitted together like two perfectly matching puzzle pieces, you can’t help but feel like this is what you’re meant for. It’s not as much as a revelation as it is something you think you’ve always known. Wherever she wants to go, you’re going to follow. As long as she’ll have you, you’ll be by her side.

Lucy’s fingers find your chin, tilting your head back down so you’re looking at her. You wonder momentarily if she can read your mind as your eyes lock. She looks at you with a renewed resolve, a silent vow that mirrors your own. Neither of you need to speak to know what’s being communicated. And, for now, nothing else matters but that.

#lucy maclean x reader #lucy maclean x fem!reader #fallout x reader #fallout smut #minors dni #angsty smut my beloved #one okie dokie as a treat

42 notes · View notes