Lucy Maclean

'A Vaultie, a Wastelander, and a singular queen bed.'

Can be smut or fluff, either or, doesn't matter me anyways. Love y'all!

Hunting down her father turned out to be easier than you’d expected. You’d pretty much known where to look from the start—Vegas. New Vegas, if you wanted to be picky about it. Lucy, on the other hand, had spent most of the day complaining about her legs, dragging her feet until you finally gave in and stopped at the nearest settlement.

You were busy at the caravan, haggling and trading caps at the bar while Lucy went off to secure food and a place to sleep for the night. When she came back, there was a bounce to her step, a barely contained excitement as she skipped up the creaking stairs toward the rooms above the bar.

You followed, reluctantly, muttering under your breath about bad ideas and worse outcomes. Still, you trudged on—right up until you realized you’d stumbled into exactly what you’d been looking for all along. Figures. Things always worked out like that for you.

Lucy stopped outside one of the doors, rocking back and forth on her heels. She looked up at you with that wide smile and those ridiculous doe eyes, silence stretching just long enough to feel intentional before she spoke.

“Well, they only had one room,” she said brightly. “A bit unprepared, if you ask me, but that’s neither here nor there—looks like we’re sharing!”

She said it like it was the most normal thing in the world, vault-dweller enthusiasm doing its best to soften the situation. This was exactly why you usually slept outside—blankets, cold sand, fewer caps spent, and no awkward conversations.

You groaned and pushed past her, stepping into the room and dropping your saddlebag by the wall. Your belt hit the floor with a dull thud as you shrugged it off, exhaustion finally catching up with you. You fell back onto the bed, closing your eyes and draping an arm over your face. After a moment, you lifted it just enough to peek at Lucy as the mattress dipped under her weight.

“What?” she murmured, tugging the blanket straight on her side, eyeing the mess you’d made of yours. “I wasn’t gonna sleep on the floor, if that look’s anything to go by.”