pile body upon body
vulpes inculta x reader
warnings/tags: reader is referred to with with she/her pronouns. non-sexual violence, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, degradation, slight cum play, slight dub con, dryhumping word count: 4.3 k a/n: first fic ive written and posted in years, it was a lot of fun to get back into the swing of writing, hope you enjoy! :)
He caught you off guard.
You first noticed the abandoned NCR base a few weeks back. Boone and you had been on your way back to the Lucky 38. It didn’t seem like much, but any building with an in tact roof was better than trying to find shelter in the ruins of abandoned towns or the more radiated sectors in the wasteland. There were no corpses outside the base, no sign of an active campfire in a five mile radius, all lights out inside the base. But the front door had been chained shut, keeping you out for the time being. You found shelter somewhere else that night.
This time, though, you came back with bolt cutters.
You were here alone. Boone was handling supply routes for the NCR back on the Strip, but this would be quick anyways. You just wanted to pick through for supplies, and Boone didn’t need to be here while you stole NCR property, even if the base had been left behind.
Inside was quiet, and dark.
The sun was setting outside, the last few hours of sunlight streaming into the base through cracked windows. It would have been impossible to explore the base without it — now, a soft, golden hue settled around you in the hallway, cutting through the shadows, making it easier to see.
You would be able to sort through supplies and keep your way with ease, but you knew you needed to move quick. You were sure that you weren’t the only one to notice an abandoned military base — you shouldn’t linger in case you weren’t the only scavenger around here.
The first door you found was locked. You knelt down as you pulled out your small lock pick kit. Locked doors was a good sign — someone was trying to keep something safe. You didn’t have to use more than one pin as you popped the lock and the door swung open.
A few desks and a couple of crumpled up pieces of paper littering the floor. You riffled through the drawers. All you found were a few more bobby-pins and a few NCR fivers, which wouldn’t get you far in the outer settlements of the Mojave. You sighed, and moved on.
The building was silent as you combed through the rooms. You could hear your footsteps echo around you as you undid locked doors and made note of anything of importance. While you didn’t notice any dust or cobwebs, there was a stillness in the building that made your nerves jump. Something didn’t quite feel right.
The fifth door you tried was a larger supply room — the lock keeping it shut was much trickier than the others. It was too complicated to try and force open, leaving you to slowly and methodically poke the internal pins of the lock into position. You broke four pins before the door eventually squeaked open.
Large wooden crates, marked with ammo and stock foot soldier rifles, had been stacked on top of each other in the back in two large rows. On the shelves crammed into the room in front of the crates were piles of old pre-war tech and dozens of medical kits were stacked in neat piles in front of you.
Finally. A fucking feast of supplies.
You took in the inventory for a second, trying not to get overwhelmed. You weren’t even sure how you were going to get everything back to the Lucky 38, but you needed to get as many medical supplies to Arcade and the Followers of the Apocalypse as you could carry. This wouldn’t just save a few lives, this could save communities.
The pre-war tech might be useful to Yes-Man if you could figure out what was salvageable, you wondered if Veronica would come back and help you sort through it. The rifles would be harder to get back to the Strip — you were positive Boone would make you return them to the nearest NCR base if he knew where you got them from.
Maybe you should start there.
You got to work on the large crates in the back, moving past the first row to inspect the second row of crates in the back. You set down your pistol on the ground next to you, crouching down to read the little label slapped onto the fresh wood. It had been a while since you saw something that hadn’t been battered and torn apart by the winds of the desert. The label was pretty crisp too, clearly indicating how many riffles and rounds were in each. Your hand grazed over the metal clasps on the lid — still sealed and shiny, not a speck of rust on them. Never been opened.
Oh.
You stood up as fast as you could — this was an active NCR base.
You felt the ghost of a hand on your shoulder. You jumped — you balled up your fist and twisted your body to swing.
Your punch landed. Hard. Whatever — whoever — cursed as he lurched towards you before you could grab your pistol off the floor. You tried to take in any details on him before you both fell to the ground, but all you saw was the ‘x’ on his armor a nauseating bright red, the leather skirt that barely reached his knees specked with dried blood, a head of platinum blonde hair —
You grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking as hard as you could, your mouth curling into a snarl. What the fuck was he doing here?
Vulpes Inculta’s nails dug into your wrist as he tried to loosen your grip.
“Courier Six,” his voice came out in a sharp whisper. If you didn’t know better, it would sound like he was about to plead with you to stop, but your other fist cracked against his jaw.
“Fuck you,” you howled. “What the fuck do you think—”
“Unless you want that spare patrol to stumble in here while you’re trespassing, keep your voice down,” he hissed, clamping his hand over your mouth. “Wretched girl.”
Footsteps echoed in the nearby hallway. Your hearing was shot from constant gunfire, but even to you, it sounded like quite a few soldiers. You tried to rack your brain over what Boone had told you about NCR patrols — three to five soldiers if its a ground squad, five to seven soldiers including an officer if it was directly from California. Either way, they outnumbered you…and Vulpes.
Shit.
You had wandered the desert with Boone since you first walked into Novac. To say you trusted each other was an understatement, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have criticisms of the NCR. They hoarded supplies for their soldiers and pushed around the local settlers — they were impossible to to work with, the red tape and regulation taking too much time to sort through before a problem could be handled. When the NCR finally got involved in situations, it was most likely already over anyways — they were sluggish and bloated, overstretched and understaffed.
But you didn’t ever want to find yourself on the other end of their rifle. You had heard of raiders stealing from the NCR and being shipped off to some prison in California to rot — if you weren’t taken out back by soldiers and shot like a dog by foot soldiers who didn’t want to fill out any more holotapes for their superiors.
Vulpes’ body hovered above you, his face barely an inch from yours. You could feel his breath on your neck, you watched him swallow the blood in his mouth from your punch. His ice blue eyes bore into yours, bright and sharp, even as you two hid in the dark shadows cast by the crates.
You could feel every adjustment he made to his position, every twitch of his hand or finger still pressed tightly over your mouth. For a second, you thought you felt his fingertips tracing over your lips. You squirmed — your shoulders bumped into his, and now the inches between your bodies had shrunk to millimeters.
Being friends with an ex-First Recon sniper wasn’t going to help you if you were caught underneath a Frumentarius while trespassing in a locked government facility.
You tried again to move, letting out a little disapproving noise to make your point clearer but—
“Shh.” He held a finger against his smirking lips. Bitch.
You kept your grip tight on Vulpes’ hair, if nothing else to have some kind of an advantage over him if he decided to pull a blade on you. Your breaths were shallow, your heart pounded in your chest. Vulpes didn’t move, didn’t breathe deep or make much noise either, but he didn’t try to hide the smirk on his face once he felt your pulse throbbing through your body.
You couldn’t see over the wooden crates, and with how calm Vulpes was, it seemed neither could the NCR soldiers. Someone sounded very close to the room, and for a moment, you thought someone might come inspect the rows of crates.
The door slammed shut — you jumped, but Vulpes’ other hand settled on your hip. He pressed down, keeping your whole body low to the ground. You searched his eyes for any sign of turmoil, but he still hadn’t moved yet. He shook his head. Wait.
Nothing. The room was still, save for your chest heaving, the occasional twitch as you bumped into Vulpes. The footsteps subsided, and no one else disturbed the room.
“The NCR is a group of lazy degenerates,” Vulpes finally spoke after a few minutes, his voice still low in your ear. “It’s a bloated organization with no follow-through to their lofty ideals. You would be surprised how much you can get away with, even under their noses, if you don’t act like a brash animal.”
You scoffed and brushed his hand away from your mouth. “Tough talk from someone who got their asses kicked at the Hoover Dam by those lazy degenerates.”
He exhaled through his nose. “Of course you would say that. Here I thought you might be thankful I helped, but I forget our favorite little courier keeps profligate savages in her company.”
“They’re not profligate savages—”
“If you’re so friendly with the NCR, perhaps I can call the soldier patrol back over here,” his lips curled, his gaze growing sharp. His hips ground into yours, bringing your awareness away from the soldiers still in the NCR base and back into your body, and you let out a little hiss. “I’m sure they’d understand the position you’re in…”
You froze, your cheeks starting to feel as warm as the rest of your body did. You sucked in a shaky breath as you noticed how much of your body was touching Vulpes’, how much of your body ached and throbbed when you felt him move closer. Something flickered inside of you, turning warm at the feeling.
His head cocked to the side, the sides of his mouth quirking up. He didn’t stop you as your hips bucked and collided with his.
The pressure from his groin grinding against your cunt felt divine, even with the layers of clothes between you two. Your hips matched his, moving against his in search of any friction he would give you, your pussy clenching around nothing as you chased the slow roll of his hips. You could already feel how wet you were, just from grinding against him. God, it’s been too long in the Wasteland since you —
He pushed your knees apart, slotting his body in-between your legs, in one swift motion. His grip on your hip turned iron-hard and brutal as he brought up his knee to brush against your crotch, more pressure than he had been allowing you to find, a small test to see how you would react.
You bit down on your tongue too late — you didn’t stop the moan that left your throat in time.
Vulpes’ mouth cracked open in a vile smile.
“Tell me, Courier.” His hands worked fast, shoving up your shirt over your chest. He pawed at your chest, digging into the soft flesh before rolling your hard nipples between two fingers. “How long have you ran around with those NCR dogs while you thought of fucking me?”
“Fuck you,” you hissed through clenched teeth. “I hate you.”
He laughed again — a short bark littered among heavy panting.
His touched moved down your body, nails dragging over your stomach before his hand snaked past the waist of your pants. Vulpes shoved past your undergarments. His index finger glided over your soaked folds, prodded at the entrance to your cunt. His eyes shone, vindicated in how wet you were already. This was an easy victory. “Almost convincing, but I don’t believe you.”
Vulpes curled a long finger inside of you. Your breath caught in your throat. You stopped the moan that threatened to spill out of your mouth, but you couldn’t hide your whine when he slowly removed his index finger.
He clicked his tongue. “Little degenerate whore, patrolling the Mojave, putting on a brave face. How many times did you fuck yourself and imagine these fingers instead of your own?”
You couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t think as you felt his hand over you again. This time, he used two fingers to slowly stretch out your cunt as he started slowly pumping in and out. He worked you with a precision that you should have anticipated from a frumentarius, his fingers reaching deep inside of you to focus there as fast as he could. You could hear how wet you were, the obscene noises your body produced — your thighs felt slick and his fingers penetrated you without any resistance to his sharp intrusion. Your breathing deepened into pants. It wasn’t fair — it was embarrassing that someone, anyone, could make you feel like this. The fact that it was a member of the Legion, a head Frumentarii, made your chest ache and face burn with shame.
“I always knew the truth,” Vulpes said. “I knew in Nipton, the moment I laid eyes on you. I could have taken you right there, in front of my men, and you would have sworn your loyalty to Caesar. To me.”
“I should have killed you in Nipton,” you groaned. “Pulled— pulled the trigger and put one right between your eyes.”
“Order me to stop, if I repulse you that much” Vulpes removed his fingers, his body pulling away, threatening to sit up and stop touching you. His voice was light, amused. He was teasing you, but you didn’t catch it. You were too desperate — you pulled his body back into yours, your legs wrapping around his torso to keep him place, a little “no” hanging on your lips as you looked up at him. Your eyes blinked a few times and you were surprised to find tears obscuring your vision.
He just made you feel… good. This — Vulpes’ fingers working you open, bringing you close to the edge, was a much better high than any other substance you could find in the back alleys of Freeside.
He laughed — it was loud, a string of short barks echoing around in the room. It was too loud, if the patrol was anywhere near you in the building, they would have heard it for sure.
“You’re so pathetic,” Vulpes’ voice too loud in your ears, too proud of the fact that you were so willing. “It’s almost adorable. To think Caesar wanted your pretty little head on a pike somewhere in the desert.”
Your eyes flicked up to his. Your nails scratched at his scalp as you moved your hand to cradled the back of his neck. Your brows furrowed your mouth opening to form a small “oh”, but no noise came out.
“Why do you think I’ve been keeping a close eye on you?” He asked as he added a third finger — you found your words, you cried his name. “Suggested to Caesar that you were an asset to the Legion, that you could prove to be valuable to the Frumentarii’s work? Oh, did you think you were more important beyond the package you carried?”
His breath was hot on your neck — everything was too hot. You felt like you were burning under your skin. His words created a fog around your head, thoughts racing as you tried to think despite the way his hand rocked into your cunt, threaten to tear your entire being apart with just his fingers.
“No, I alone bargained for your life,” his words cutting through your skin and bones to land directly over your beating chest, the implications of him bargaining for you, saving you against the wrath of the whole Legion, left your pussy fluttering around him, clenching as tight as a vice, praying he didn’t stop, didn’t ever stop. “I determine what happens with you, I own you.”
You squeezed your eyes shut. Your chest felt tight, everything felt too tight, threatening to snap and break at any second. You were losing focus — you whined Vulpes’ name again, confessed you were close to release. His movements slowed, and then stopped all together, removing his hand from your cunt.
For a moment, Vulpes just stared at you with a hard look on his face — he was studying you, measuring up your previous actions. And then he leaned forwards to kiss down your neck, his tongue prodding at the soft skin damp with sweat.
“Beg for it,” Vulpes hummed. You felt his words in your bones, aching in your cunt. You clenched around nothing. You tried to hold onto the burning pleasure he had built up, but your body relaxed, and the tension he had wound so quickly in you subsided, something hollow and dim taking its place. “Beg for me to fuck you, Courier, and I will.”
You clenched your teeth. “You’re a fucking bitch.”
“Beg.”
You could barely mumble it — you weren’t even sure he had heard you the first time. Vulpes didn’t move, didn’t make a noise. You repeated it, “Please.”
He said nothing, just moved to continue to play with your cunt. His hand worked your swollen clit with steady movements — nothing to work you up close to orgasm again, just enough to make you throb.
Your grip on the armor pad of his shoulder tightened into a fist. You were shaking, the loss of pleasure racking over your body. You didn’t feel anything — you had been so close to release, now, you would have to build it up again. You weren’t sure how much time you had left in the base before night swift patrol swaps started. The soldiers would be back, if nothing else to track inventory of the supplies they were stock-piling. There wasn’t going to be enough time, you needed him —
“Please,” you said, words barely a sob against his neck, desperate with need. “Please, fuck me.”
You felt his smile against your neck. He inserted a single finger inside of you for a second before he brought it to your mouth. He didn’t have to order you to do anything. You opened your mouth and licked it clean.
“There,” Vulpes Inculta purred. “Was that so hard?”
Your cheeks burned. You buried your face in the crook of his neck. You hated him, hated him, hated him, hated him—
He adjusted his hips away for a moment, reaching between you two to fuss with his uniform. You always assumed the Legion weren’t wearing anything under their skirts — Vulpes had to push a few layers aside before you could catch a glimpse of him. Soft blonde fuzz, well trimmed, above a hard and throbbing and long cock. Your eyes traced a vein that trailed along his shaft — you had to stop yourself from suggesting taking him in your mouth to taste his leaking head for yourself.
He closed his eyes as he finally eased inside of you, sheathing himself with inch by inch, taking his time to slot his body against yours. A soft groan echoed from the back of Vulpes’ throat as your pussy clenched around him.
Your mouth fell open with a gasp at the feeling of being so full.
He caught his breath — his eyelashes fluttered as he breathed for a moment. Your throbbing cunt was almost too much. Vulpes knew you would be tight, knew it would be whorish the way your body reacted to him, but this was beyond anything he had imagined.
“Please,” you let out one last little plea. You chest felt tight again, your cunt aching as the girth of his cock stretched you out. There was a slight burn, a slight ping in your womb that he could be too much for you, but nothing else mattered in the moment. You need him to move, to unmake you.
Vulpes Inculta didn’t hesitate. He fucked you, his hands moving quickly to hold your body down, to keep you still, as he drilled into you. His rhythm was unrelenting — his gaze was hungry and starved, his eyes tracked across your face, watching as you tried (and failed) to maintain any composition. Your head rolled back on the floor, your face twisting up and furrowing as you grappled with his tenacious pace. It hurt, he was making sure of that as his hips moved faster, his cock hitting the deepest parts of you, threatening to push deeper than you could offer him. This didn’t feel like fucking, this felt like punishment — his hands grabbed the waistband of your pants as he pulled you, leveraged you harder onto his length.
“You said you wanted this, didn’t you, Courier?”
You didn’t say anything, trying hard to focus. Your core ached, your whole body felt like it was vibrating. You were already close again, something bright and sharp inside of you threatening to consume all of you through the pain.
His hips stuttered — you were sure he could feel the way your cunt clenched around him. You looked away from him, chose a spot on the ceiling above you, to catch your breath and try to calm down.
Vulpes hand grabbed your jaw, jerking your head, adjusting your gaze to look him in the eye as he continued to fuck you.“I asked you something, whore.”
“Yes,” you huffed.
“Yes, what?”
Your mouth opened, a little squeak falling out. You couldn’t form any thoughts, you tried to string a sentence together, something with curses, something vile to throw back in his face. But the tip of his cock rubbed along your weeping cunt before entering again, and you could barely focus to answer his question.
“I like you like this,” he grinned, his sharp teeth shining in the dim light. His smiled started to warp, started to feel more like beast baring his teeth at his prey than laughing at how lost you were on his cock. “You’re much more manageable — much more useful.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, your nails digging into his clothes, pulling his body closer, closer, closer. Your bare chest chafed against his armor. Would it leave a mark? Leave a scrape as evidence he fucked you open on the floor of the NCR base? Something to trace over days later and fantasize about as you touched yourself, trying to chase the bliss he so easily gave you?
God, you hoped so.
“You’re close, I can feel it.” His hand snaked between your bodies to once again to punish your swollen clit, rubbing out quick circles, making your cries turn to sobs and chokes.
“My little bitch,” his voice was dark and low. Something snaps inside of you at the sound of his tone, at the idea of being his, and your whole body seizes as you cum. Your orgasm washes over you, burning through your bones and into your fingertips. Stars litter your vision — you cried his name as it rippled through you.
Your mind was hazy. You felt barely present as Vulpes used your body, fucked you through your orgasm and well past it. Vulpes pushed your thighs open to have as much access to your body as you can manage. You whimpered, it was almost too much, the ache in your hips threatening to burn past your limits, but you couldn’t stop him. He doesn’t speak to you or talk you — not while he chases his own bliss, hunts it down like a predator.
He bares his teeth, a snarl hissing through his throat as his hips stuttered. His eyes never once leaving yours as he cums as deep inside of you as he could. Vulpes panted as his load seeps into your cunt.
Neither of you moved. Your shallow breathing matched his deep breaths, and you found that couldn’t look away from him. Your cheeks were wet with tears you didn't realize had fallen.
He leaned into you, breaking your stare, and curled his arms around your shoulders. For a moment, Vulpes laid there on top of you. His hips were locked with yours, his face was nuzzled in the crook of your neck. It was soft. Gentle. You carded your fingers through his hair. your nails scrapped along his scalp. Vulpes sighed as he shifted his hips to slowly pull out of you, savoring the last few moments of your cunt clenching around him. You whined - it was soft and small — at the feeling of being empty.
“Miss me already?”
“If you tell anyone,” you breathed in his ear as your fingers tugged on his roots. “About this, I swear—”
“You’ll gut me? String my corpse outside the Lucky 38 for all the Strip to marvel at?” He nipped at your neck as he reached a hand down to your cunt to gather up the cum that had started to drip out of you — Vulpes shoved his fingers inside of you with a click of his tongue. “Would that be before your NCR friends string you up for fraternizing with a Legion frumentarius, or after?”
Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers worked his seed inside of you. You didn’t even want to think about what your companions would say if they knew what you had been doing — or who.
“Don’t worry, Courier Six, your little secret is safe with me,” he chuckled. “After all… I have much to show you about the Legion.”
