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wizardofrozz · 10 months ago

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Above Coruscant (pt. 2)

Commander Fox x reader

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings: +18 MDNI, slight exhibitionism, hair pulling, unprotected PiV sex, outdoors sex, mentions of sexting, glove kink if you squint, the armor stays on, enjoy lol

A/N: If you haven't read part 1, this might not make a whole lot of sense but if you're just here for the filth, then you could probably skip the first part lmao. I'm not even sorry for the person I become when it comes to writing Fox 😈

Part 1

It was easy to forget how populated the city-planet was until you were hundreds of feet in the air, your speeder bike cutting through traffic lanes. Coruscant's air was slightly less polluted this high up, the smog hanging somewhere below your dangling feet, and you savored the fresh air.

Well, as fresh as Coruscant could be.

Your heart skipped when the familiar imposing shape of the Coruscant Guard's headquarters came into view. It had been about a week since your mission with a certain Marshal Commander, and to say you were excited to see him again was an understatement. Hells, you couldn't even think too hard about him without remembering how he tasted.

That was something you knew now, and your treacherous brain made sure to remind you far too often.

The soles of your boots had barely hit the duracrete outside the club when Fox’s com had started to chime, and even with the modified helmet on, you could see how he had deflated. You barely said goodbye before he took off, jogging to the nearest landing pad in time for a gunship to swoop down into view. At least he looked just as disappointed as you felt before the larty whisked him away.

The details of his assignment were need-to-know - you knew better than to ask - but the first message that came through one evening helped. His messages were scattered and irregular, but he kept up the conversation throughout the week since you last saw him. Conversations ranged from innocent ‘how is your day?’ to messages that had you setting your datapad down and hoping no one noticed the wide-eyed look on your face as you shifted in your seat.

Yeah, this visit was long overdue.

Bringing your speeder closer to the surface, you merged into the skylane that would bring you around to the Guard’s headquarters, and your heartbeat skipped. Even in the middle of the day, the military police headquarters was intimidating. Red dots moved about near the front of the building in perfectly spaced lines, and if you didn't know any better, you'd automatically assume their superior was a dick.

Well. He kind of was, but that was beside the point.

Cutting a sharp left, you slowed to a reasonable speed, deciding to avoid the spectacle it would be if you used the main entrance and headed for one of the landing pads near the back of the building you were more accustomed to using. Thankfully, the landing pad was empty and covered in shadows.

The brakes squealed as you brought the bike to a stop, and you flinched. Making a mental note to call your usual garage later, you shut the engine down, unaware of the shadow lingering in the doorway. The fumes weren't as heavy on the surface, but it was a noticeable difference, and you tried not to grimace as you climbed off the bike. Maybe one day you'd get used to it.

Wrapped up in your random train of thought, you missed when the shape near the door moved closer, just enough to make the paint on his armor discernible. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you turn toward the building. Shock outweighed your joy for a few precious moments.

"Stop hiding in the shadows like a creep," you huffed, thinking about tossing your riding goggles at his stupid head. The urge didn't go away when his armored shoulders shook faintly with silent laughter.

“Wasn’t hiding,” Fox countered, pulling his helmet off to reveal the faint smirk on his face. Maker, how did it make you want to kiss him more?

“Hm, seemed like it to me,” you mumbled, tucking your goggles into the saddlebag beside your leg. You didn’t turn to look at him, mostly because you didn’t want him to see the smirk on your face but also because you were curious about what he’d do. Some of the messages he sent you the last few days were…detailed. “I think you were hoping to sneak up on me.”

A low hum was Fox’s only response, and it took considerable effort to stop the gasp from tumbling past your lips when you realized he was close enough that you could lean back against his chest if you wanted. Gods above, you were on a landing pad where anyone could walk through the door, but apparently, Fox didn’t give a shit. Honestly, you didn’t either when he leaned down, his soft exhale brushing past your ear.

“And if that was my plan? Then what?”

He hadn’t even touched you yet, and it felt like you were going to disintegrate on the spot. Well, a week's worth of subtle and not-so-subtle teasing would do that, you supposed.

“Then I’d hope you’d follow through with one of those ideas I’ve heard so much about,” you whispered, leaning back just enough to feel the brush of his chest plate against your shoulder blade. “My personal favorite was something about bending me over this bike.”

This time, you did gasp when Fox pulled you against his chest, the harsh cut of his codpiece pressing against your ass. You couldn’t care about that, though, when he growled, and the sound sent a wave of heat pumping through your veins. You wanted to hear it again.

“Oh, I will, cyar’ika, don’t worry,” Fox murmured, nudging the side of your face. His lips brushed your cheek as he spoke, and his grip on you slackened only for him to knead your hips gently. “But that’ll be for later.”

It took all your self-control not to bodily drag Fox onto the speeder and race back to your apartment. Then one of his hands started to drift down, his fingers teasing the top of your pants, and instead of pulling away, you leaned more of your weight into him, one of your hands drifting back to trace the outside of his thigh plate.

“You’re done for the day, so what’s stopping you?” You felt his sigh before you heard it, and that alone had your hopes plummeting.

“Senate called an emergency meeting. Either I’m stuck here until they’re done or switch places with Stone.” His wandering hand doesn’t stop, sending a chill racing across your skin when just the tips of his gloved fingers slip under the waistband of your pants. “Can’t leave just yet, but I’d still rather be here.”

At this point, you’d take whatever relief you could get.

“You’re on call, then?” Laughter rumbled against your back, and you would’ve smiled, but the open-mouthed kiss just under your ear wiped any coherent thought from your mind. All you could think about was Fox’s mouth and his hand slipping further into your pants.

“Yeah, but pretty sure Thire isn’t gonna call me unless the galaxy’s on the verge of ceasing to exist.”

Even though the situation wasn’t ideal, it was better than nothing.

Fox’s eyes were bright even in the shadows of headquarters when you twisted your upper body around to see his face.

“Good to know,” you whispered before pulling him into a heated kiss. The ghost of the first kiss you shared with Fox had been haunting you since it happened, but this time was different, hungrier. The bitterness of caf lingered on his tongue as it slid into your mouth, and you sighed, releasing the side of his thigh to grip his vambrace.

The contact made his fingers twitch, the fabric of his gloves brushing over your sensitive skin just enough to force a pathetic sound past your lips. Every inch of your body was humming with need like you hadn’t experienced in a long time, if ever. You blamed it on the steamy messages that were finally becoming a reality and the pent-up frustration you’d been shoving down for nearly a year now.

You blamed that when you tugged Fox’s arm, whining against his lips, “Please.”

This close, you could feel the shudder that rippled through his body, and the hand still holding your hip tightened, keeping you in place. Your mouth dropped open, but no sound came out; every thought in your head was obliterated as Fox slid a finger through your soaked folds.

When you finally opened your eyes, his face was out of focus. Intense was a good word to describe Fox at times, and right now, it was the only word you could think of to describe the look on his face as he slowly slid a finger into you. The fabric of his gloves wasn’t unpleasant, but you were almost positive that anything he did at this point would drive you wild.

Fox drove you wild, plain and simple.

The deliberate pump of his finger made your lids heavy, and you clenched around the digit when the muscle in his jaw fluttered. In this position, you couldn’t move well, your hips trapped in place by his iron grip, and any attempt to grind against his hand was pointless. Although, your attempts at finding more friction seemed to goad Fox into giving you what you wanted anyway.

As he added a second finger, Fox’s eyes darted around your face like he was searing the visual of you like this into his mind. The soft, pleading whine of his name made his eyes darken, and his tongue poked out to wet his lips. Your eyes tracked the movement.

“Fuck me,” you whispered, finding his eyes.

“Right here?” Fox’s voice was rough, each word dragging over gravel as they passed his lips and your pussy clenched around his fingers. A sinful smirk lifted the corner of his mouth, and fuck, you never wanted to see someone’s face between your legs as bad as you did at that moment.

“What? Scared?” You wanted to pat yourself on the back for not sounding as ruined as you already felt.

Then, the smirk on Fox’s face turned wolfish.

The disappointment at being empty only lasted a few seconds, your head spinning when Fox pulled you around to face him. It had to be the armor that made him look so broad. Although, if you remember correctly (you remembered perfectly), his shoulders still looked just as wide when he wasn’t wearing armor.

The back of your legs bumped the seat of your speeder, and you slid onto the cushion without being prompted, fighting off a smirk when you leaned back against the control panel. Your feet came to rest on the housing holding the seat in place, your knees falling open as an invitation, and the way Fox’s eyes raked down your body made your walls flutter weakly.

Fox said nothing as he walked around to the back of the bike. The model you drove was compact, narrower than most, and Fox easily straddled the engine. Your throat clicked as your eyes trailed upward until you reached his face.

Maybe this position wasn’t the best idea when he’s looking down at you like that.

Shuffling forward, Fox gently knocked your feet off the durasteel, moving to stand over the seat and forcing your legs open wider to accommodate his hips. The kama hanging around his hips brushed against the material of your pants, and suddenly, you needed to feel him again.

The second his eyes dropped to your belt, your hands moved; Fox smirked, his hands resting on your knees. He took over once your pants reached your knees, and you tried not to snort at the few failed attempts at getting your pantleg over your boot. Any hint of amusement vaporized the second his fingers teased the inside of your thigh.

“Take my codpiece off.” The order - and that was exactly what it was - made you jump, forcing your attention away from the feather-light touch of his fingers.

For some reason, it wasn’t until that moment that you realized he was still fully armored…and would remain that way. Your lips parted around a nearly silent whine, but your hands were already moving to do as he said, even as his fingers wandered higher.

It took a few tries to find the correct clip, but once you did, Fox groaned low in his throat without the pressure of his armor. Gods, he looked bigger than you remembered, but before, you could only feel him through layers of clothing. If you were being honest, you never thought you’d get past a few fleeting touches.

This was much more than you expected. Not that you were complaining.

Your thoughts screeched to a halt when a finger hooked up the band of your panties. Your breath caught when Fox shuffled forward again, only to pause. Fox’s eyes darted around like he was looking for something, and you tried to follow his movements. When he huffed through his nose, you reached up to gently cup his face, drawing his eyes back to you.

“Probably should’ve thought about the logistics before we got here,” Fox mumbled, his nose wrinkling. The mannerism unique to him made you smile absently as you tried to think of a solution.

“Come on, handsome, you’re a Marshal Commander. Don’t think you can keep us upright and fuck me senseless at the same time.” It was meant to be a joke, and it came out that way, but when Fox’s dark eyes snapped to your face, all the moisture in your mouth evaporated.

All you could do was throw your arms around his shoulders to keep yourself from tumbling off the speeder when he suddenly pulled you further down, stretching you out under him. The hand not wedged between your bodies grabbed the valley between controls, bringing his face inches from yours, and your walls fluttered again.

“Watch me,” he growled.

A broken gasp was punched out of your chest when the head of his cock brushed through your folds, gathering your arousal, but it didn’t fully hit you that, yes, you were about to do this until he paused at your entrance. Your nails scrapped against his backplate, clawing to have him closer, and Fox didn’t make you wait long.

Lightning arced up your spine, your mouth dropping open as his hips shifted forward. It wasn’t until Fox’s mouth slanted over yours that you registered the high-pitched moan falling from your lips. Although he wasn’t much better, the kiss muffled his answering moan as he sank into you with care.

The pinch of his armor should’ve bothered you when his hips finally stopped moving, but the hint of pain only made the pleasure clawing its way out that much more intense. Fox shuddered when you whimpered.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he panted into your mouth, his free hand squeezing the side of your thigh.

“Fox,” you gasped, one of your hands sliding into his hair. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you made note that it was softer than you imagined. Then, he shifted his hips, and you might as well have forgotten what hair was. With a grunt barely muffled behind his teeth, Fox picked up a slow, careful pace that punched a broken sound past your lips that you tried to smother against the side of his neck.

The bike shook with every roll of his hips, and while you had teased him about it earlier, you genuinely hoped you wouldn’t tumble to the ground. At least it would be an interesting story.

As if he were reading your mind, Fox slid his hand up to your waist to coax your back to arch slightly so he could wrap his arm around you, lifting your hips in the process. The slight change forced your shoulders down against the control panel, and the next rock of his hips had stars exploding behind your eyelids. He wasn’t fast enough to muffle your cry this time, yet he didn’t seem to care anymore as he moved a little faster.

“There we go,” he rumbled, his lips brushing over the corner of your mouth.

Lights flashed in your vision, and you couldn’t tell if it was passing speeders or the pleasure blinding you at this point. Every nerve ending felt like it had been scorched, and Fox’s labored breathing and the occasional groan frayed your nerves even more. Your fingers tightened in Fox’s hair, and the answering moan that filled the air had you clenching around his cock, your back arching further.

“Do it again,” Fox panted, his hips moving faster and harder than before. The bike trembled dangerously, but you were too far gone to care. You blindly did as he asked while he zeroed in on the spot that made your body tense almost painfully. His voice broke around a soft cry when you tugged on his curls again, and a fresh wave of heat coursed through your veins.

Mindlessly, you forced your hand between your chest and Fox’s. The first brush of your fingers against your clit had every muscle pulling taut as you raced closer to the edge.

Fox cursed, blindly searching for your mouth as his thrust grew sloppy. The speeder bike’s frame whined under the strain.

You teetered on the edge for a heartstopping moment, blood rushing in your ears, and then the pleasure crested in a spectacular explosion of color. Fox shuddered against you, and you were almost too far gone to realize his hand had moved from the controls to cover your mouth.

Sensations blurred together until all you knew was Fox: the feel of his hips snapping against you one last time, the vibration of his chest as he groaned one last time, and the taste of his mouth on your tongue. You were addicted, without a doubt.

The bike wobbled when Fox slumped against you, the hard press of his chest plate forcing out the little bit of air in your lungs with a wheeze. The fragmented pieces of your awareness slowly knitted back together, your fingers absently combing through the curls on the back of his head. Your lashes fluttered when he shifted, the soft hum in the back of his throat vibrating against your chest.

The fucked out grin on his face had no right looking that good, and you vowed to see it again and again. As many times as he let you.

“Told you I could,” Fox mumbled, blindly searching for a handhold to take some of his weight off of you.

What he said sank in after a few seconds, and your borderline delirious laugh filled the air, making his smile grow.

“It wasn’t a challenge,” you managed between laughs, your smile matching his. Fox merely shrugged, but his smile faltered when he moved to stand straighter, his expression pinching briefly.

“Good, ‘cause my legs kinda hurt now.” Another laugh fell from your lips, echoing off the building surrounding you, and you pulled Fox back down into another kiss, smiling against his lips.

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#commander fox x reader #commander fox #cc-1010 #fox x reader #star wars #the clone wars #the coruscant guard #clone commander fox x reader #clone commander fox

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 months ago

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Wrong-headed Thinking - ao3

Fandom: Star Wars - Clone Wars Pairing: Alpha-17/Fox For the @cloneshiprarepair 2025 challenge (January) Summary:

It wasn’t that Alpha-17 was necessarily surprised about being attracted to one of the command-track ARC trainees, and it wasn't like he minded it all that much, either. But at the same time…well. Did it have to be that particular trainee?

Alpha-17 did not, as a general rule, spend a lot of time thinking with his dick.

Some clones were more inclined in that direction than others. The long-necks had left them all fully intact, which meant of course that puberty and the abrupt realization that their dicks could be used for something involving more than just their hands had hit the entire clone cadre like an orbital bombardment – though some more than others. Clones or no clones, they definitely didn’t have the same reaction to the realization. Some went crazy for it (with reason, they were soldiers first), others hated the mere idea of it, most of them fell in the middle somewhere. Of the ones that were into it, most clones were open to anything that happened to hit their buttons, but some clones had specific preferences: some liked only each other, others liked the female human-types you found on the holonet, some only liked aliens, the weirder the better; whatever, Alpha-17 didn’t judge.

(Unless someone admitted they were into long-necks, in which case he judged and hard.)

For his part, Alpha-17 tended to follow the vast majority of clones in going after Prime’s lead: which was to say, the whole notion of sex didn’t really motivate him very much at all, except for the very rare times when it did.

He still wasn’t entirely sure what it was about some people, sometimes, that caught his eye, but even so it usually went away pretty quick. He would find himself unusually appreciative of someone’s form one week, then turn around and be completely indifferent the next, the emotion petering out like he’d failed to fuel the tank somehow.

Sometimes he managed to make a move before his drive faded. Most of the time, he didn’t.

Either way, the point was, his interest? It didn’t last.

So it was all the weirder when Alpha-17 found himself noticing one form in particular in a sexual capacity…and not just once, but again, and again, and again.

No, weird wasn’t the word. It was –

It was just plain embarrassing, that’s what it was.

It wasn’t that Alpha-17 was necessarily surprised about being attracted to one of the command-track ARC trainees, and it wasn't like he minded it all that much, either. They were old enough to be fuckable, having the same face all around meant not having to worry about anyone being ugly, and getting plucked out of the masses to be command track for the Republic’s army meant that they were at least competent, which was definitely a bare-minimum requirement. But at the same time…well.

Did it have to be that particular trainee?

Alpha-17 slid a sideways glance at where CC-1010 (who was Fox where the long-necks couldn’t hear) was lying on his belly, steadily emptying his clip into the center of the long-range targets set up to train snipers. Hitting them, too, because given the amount of obsessive focus he’d put into his new secondary specialization, he was going to master it the way he’d mastered everything else he’d set his mind to. Fordo claimed that he was doing it to win Alpha-17’s informal contest where he’d promised a favor to whichever trainee got highest marks in one of the more unusual specializations, but Alpha-17 wasn’t so sure.

Fox had been picked to lead the Coruscant Guard. What would he even do with a favor from an Alpha commando, over there on Triple Zero?

At any rate, those were all reasonable thoughts. Acceptable thoughts.

The fact that Alpha-17 couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Fox’s ass as he shifted up to his knees to realign his scope – that was a hell of a lot less reasonable.

Not least because they all had the same fucking ass.

Well, mostly. Fox was a bit short for a clone, just barely squeaking into the acceptable height parameters, and shorter clones tended to also be either skinnier or thicker than standard clones. So there was a chance that his ass might be just a touch more ample than most, though the only way to be really sure would be to get his hands on –

There was something seriously wrong with him.

Seriously. Fox?

It wasn’t even that Fox was an asshole. They were fucking Jango clones, being an asshole came with the territory. But Fox somehow managed to take being insufferable and turn it into an art form. Always scheming, always a bit too clever for his own good, always looking ahead for the next play, paranoid and cynical – some of the other Alpha clones had said that he was the CC’s answer to Alpha-17 himself, which, fuck those guys.

Alpha-17 might be a lot of things, sure. But Fox? Fox was a real jackass. A silver-tongued rules-lawyer with a stick up his ass that he was more than happy to beat other people down with, particularly if they messed with his people…

(Fuck, maybe he was a bit like Alpha-17.)

Anyway, the long and short of it was, Fox was a gigantic pain. A headache, a pain in the ass, the sort of person who was just asking for a punch in the face – take your pick.

Unfortunately, nothing in his extensive recitation of Fox’s faults was doing anything to convince Alpha-17’s stupid fucking dick to change its mind.

Instead all he got was a stupid counterproposal that the best way to deal with all of those problems would be to rail Fox so hard that his amped-up anxiety brain melted out of his skull. Wouldn’t have a chance to be a smug little rat bastard if he was writhing and mewling, slick with sweat and unable to remember any words other than please.

...Alpha-17 was pretty sure he’d been going somewhere with that line of thought.

Possibly the showers.

No, wait, fuck – today was the day he’d set as the final day of his stupid contest. Fox was ahead by lightyears, obviously, given that his usual competition (Cody) had decided kick a droid was a valid tactical move, which it the fuck was not. And that meant that Alpha-17 was going to have to invite Fox to the little private space they’d given him when he’d started working as a trainer and he was going to have to talk to him.

Something that would be a lot easier to do if he didn’t have a hard-on.

Whatever.

Alpha-17 put on his best “keep the fuck away” scowl as he stalked out of the room. Hopefully that made it seem a little less like he was running away.

Fox showed up a little later, his expression flatter and more subdued than usual. Nervous, maybe? Alpha-17 couldn’t quite work it out.

“Congrats,” he said, sitting in the chair, slouching just the slightest bit as a deliberate indicator that this was at-ease time. Fox unhelpfully didn’t seem to pick up on it. “You won. You know got an idea of what you want to do with that favor, or just planning on keeping it in reserve?”

Alpha-17 assumed it was the latter, because that’s certainly what he would do with something like that, but instead Fox shifted uneasily. The movement was miniscule, the sort of thing that a long-neck wouldn’t notice in a parade line – nothing as garish as actually moving weight from one foot to another – but Alpha-17 wasn’t a fucking long-neck, so he noticed.

“Well?”

“Actually, sir, I was hoping to ask you for a personal favor,” Fox said. He was staring at the wall just above Alpha-17’s head. “Though I would understand if that’s outside the remit of what was anticipated.”

Alpha-17 arched his eyebrows. It wasn’t like Fox wasn’t a shifty bastard, but this seemed unusually oblique even for him. “What’s the favor?”

“I’d like to suck your cock.”

Alpha-17 blinked.

“Just once,” Fox added, tone suddenly going a little urgent. His eyes had gone a little wide, too, which meant he’d probably planned to say it more elegantly than it had come out. “It’s just – I need – just once – you wouldn’t have to reciprocate, or –”

Alpha-17 cut him off with an upraised hand.

“Request denied,” he said, and Fox wilted a little, though he took it well, swallowing and straightening his back a second later. “I don’t do trades like that, so keep the favor for something military. Otherwise…”

His brain informed him that was almost certainly a bad idea.

His dick told his brain to shut the fuck up and sit back, this was its time.

“…permission granted. Proceed.”

Fox wasn’t the top scoring ARC trainee for nothing. It took him about five seconds to incorporate, evaluate, and understand what Alpha-17 meant, a process quickened by the way Alpha-17 leaned back in his chair and pointedly spread his legs, and then maybe another fifteen, twenty, max before there was a warm mouth around Alpha-17’s dick and Fox was moaning like just getting the chance to put his mouth there was the best thing anyone had ever done to him.

Fuck.

This was going to go to Alpha-17’s head, wasn’t it?

Fucking Fox.

(Yes, good, you’ve finally got the picture, his dick informed him. Fucking Fox – exactly.)

“Just so you know,” he said, grabbing a handful of Fox’s hair and netting himself another moan in the process, because of course Fox liked that. And of course Alpha-17 liked that Fox liked that. He was doomed. “That no reciprocation thing? Not happening.”

Somehow he got the feeling that Fox didn’t object.

In the end, the long and the short of it was: Alpha-17 was going to need to find a reason to visit Triple Zero. It wouldn’t do to leave a favor like that hanging…and who knew? Maybe he’d find something for a commando to do there after all.

Something other than thinking with his dick, anyway.

#alpha-17 #commander fox #cc-1010 #alpha-17/fox #my fics #my fic #not sure I'm happy with it but you know what? it's words

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