#commander fox x you

[merlincmgirl]

Just A Bit Of Contraband

Word Count: 1651

Reader: Gender Neutral

Summary: You really did just want to help Fox and his brothers, but maybe there's a better way than sneaking around the Senate building at night.

Author's Note: This is the first time I've written for Fox, so I hope it's okay. And mention of annoying little shit of a brother Thorn!

Cyare - beloved, love

Osik'la - messed up, screwed up, horrible

Sneaking into the Senate building was no small feat and you were beyond lucky that most, if not all the Senators and staff had gone home for the night. You were on a mission. A very important mission to help the Coruscant Guards do their jobs during this terrible war. Up ahead of you was the room that you had arranged to meet your contact in. It had been in a room you had been in only once or twice, only for a few minutes and never on your own. You just hoped that it would be empty now. Tapping open the button to let you in, you were glad to see that your contact was already there, pressed to the back of the room and hiding in the shadows himself.

“I’ve got the stuff” you whispered, sneaking towards the figure in the break room. Commander Thorn only sighed in relief, stepping forward into the light that filtered through the small window that let it in from the corridor outside. Carefully, he quickly examined the small packages that you handed to him.

“These are perfect. You don’t realise how much we’ll need this. Senate’s holding a fundraiser, security is going to be a nightmare. You know Fox is going to have a field day” Thorn complained, slipping the packs into his belt as much as he could.

“Anything I can do to support the war effort, Commander” you replied cheekily, pulling more packages out of your bag.

The light flickered on overhead as the door slid open, revealing none other but Marshall Commander Fox himself.

“Cyare? What are you doing here?” Fox’s modulated voice came through his helmet’s speakers. You squeaked, unable to do anything but hide the packages behind your back. It wasn’t the smartest of moves, not in the least because it made you look more guilty than you were. Even through his helmet you could still feel Thorn’s side eye but you ignored him.

“Nothing! I was just waiting for you!” you excused, a shaky smile spread over your face. Maker! You could lie as well as the clones it would seem.

“Thorn? What’s going on?” Fox demanded, turning to his vod who was shuffling the packages onto the clip of his belt behind him. There was less patience in his voice now for his fellow commander, and Thorn seemed to sense that like all little brothers could.

“Fox! I was just telling your cyare that you’re probably going to be working late because of the security detail” Thorn stated, and if you hadn’t had known any better, you would have believed him. Well, perhaps you were a worse liar than a clone.

Fox hummed, coming up closer to you and standing in front of you, arms crossed across his chest and helmet tilted down to give you an analysing look. “Hand it over” he instructed, hand outstretched and expecting.

“What?” you cried, floundering for a second at how quick he was to figure you out. You should have known really, Fox could read you like an open book any day of the week.

Fox didn’t even need to look over to Thorn to know that he was trying to slide away from the pair of lovers and closer to the exit. Almost like if he tried to stay out of Fox’s line of sight then he’d be free to escape. “Stay!” he growled head not even turning in his direction, and you couldn’t help but gape at Thorn’s retreating form.

“Thorn! What about we’re in this together?” you gasped, annoyed at the Commander who was so ready to high-tail it out of this situation.

“Sorry vod’ika, but you’re more likely to get out of this than me! I’m not going to be stuck on patrol in the lowest levels again for a week!” Thorn protested, holding up his hands in surrender.

Fox let out a warning call of your name and you winced, before slumping against the counter that was digging into your back. “Alright, alright, but please don’t be mad. We were only trying to help” you sighed, handing over the packet that you had been hiding in your bag. It crinkled in Fox’s grip as you shuffled around nervously on your feet in front of him. You were unsure how he would react.

“Alderaanian caf beans?” Fox frowned, unable to believe that this was what you were sneaking into the Coruscant Guard Headquarters. He had wondered what you and his idiotic brother could be up to, but he didn’t think you would be sneaking in contraband caf beans. What the hell were you two up to?

“Please don’t be mad. I know you’re always telling me that I shouldn’t be wasting my credits on you and that it’s not my responsibility to keep you sane and awake at 4am. But I wanted to do something to help. You haven’t slept for the past 3 days, and I haven’t seen you in nearly as long. And I’m not complaining but I want to make sure you’re okay. And Thorn was telling me that you hadn’t been taking any breaks and Palpatine was being a kriffing shithead and I was worried” you hurried to explain, chest tightening as you worried that Fox would hate you for interfering with his job as the Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guards.

Thorn winced at that, ignoring the glare that his older brother shot his way. He knew he would be getting into shit for telling you exactly what Fox was getting up to when you weren’t there. Especially not looking after himself. You were always telling Fox he needed to look after himself more. Take more rest, eat food that wasn’t rations and drink something that wasn’t caf every now and again.

“So I thought maybe making sure that you had some decent caf would help, you know, keep you awake for all the awful shit Palpatine is no doubt going to put you through because he’s the worst, and really he should be shot. And if you need volunteers, then I’ll be the first in line to shoot that motherf-” you rambled on, before Fox slid a hand over your mouth; before he or someone else heard any more and would have to arrest you for some ridiculous shit like treason.

Seeming to take a breath and stop rambling, you looked up at Fox, waiting for his reaction.

“You, get out of here. I’ll deal with you later” Fox ordered his brother, who sent you a quick thumbs up and ran out of the break room. “You… you should be careful what you say cyare. Who knows who’s listening in this building” he sighed, taking off his helmet with his other hand and settling on your waist. “Can I let go now?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you. Accepting your rolling eyes and nod of agreement, he let the hand slip down and squeeze your other hip.

“Are you mad?” you whispered, hoping he wouldn’t be too angry with you. It wasn’t like you were sneaking around for your own benefit. You truly did want to help Fox and his brothers out.

“Course I’m not mad, I’m just worried, cyare. Sneaking around the Senate building after dark, breaking at least a dozen security laws and protocols and making me think we had a thief breaking into the barracks was not the best decision you’ve ever made Cyare. I dread to think what you could do if you had more resources. But it can’t happen again, do you understand me?” Fox rebuked, gripping onto your waist and bringing you into him as close as he could get you. It wasn’t like any reprimand he’d ever given to his men, but sneaking around Senate and GAR buildings were a sure way to find trouble. Trouble he may not always be able to get you out of. It worried him too much to think of you hurt.

“I understand, I’m sorry Fox. I just wanted to make things better for you and your brothers. I know you haven’t been sleeping well, I just thought this might be able to help better than the mud water that they serve you” you sighed, biting your lip and resting your hands on the cool plastoid of his armour.

Fox cupped your face, bringing you up to look into his dark, expressive eyes. They held exhaustion, worry and no small amount of love. Being able to see him clearer now without his helmet always took your breath away. His greying hair at the temples fell across his face in soft curls, the scars that ran across his nose was slightly lighter than his usual tan tone. Maker he was beautiful, and you would tell him that every single day until he believed you. Shaking his head at whatever he could see on your face, he let out a small smile, thumb rubbing softly against your cheekbone. “Even if you shouldn’t be wasting your credits on us, and it’s the Republic’s responsibility to fund our caf addictions to keep this osik’la planet safe and running, thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without your big heart, taking care of me and my men” he whispered, leaning down to press his lips to yours to silence any reply.

“Now, how about we go back to yours and I can show you just how thankful I have to have a cyar’ika like you looking after me?” he hummed, resting his forehead against yours.

“That sounds perfect to me, Commander” you smiled, pushing his curls away from his face and leaning up to press a chaste kiss to his own lips. He just grinned, tucking the packet of caf beans into his belt before grabbing his helmet and pulling you out of the break room. After all, he was due a break and Thorn would cover for him.

[wizardofrozz]

Shadow Play

Commander Fox x senator!reader (fem), Senator Farr, Commander Thorn, and mention of Commander Stone

Word Count: ~3.7k

Warnings: NSFW, this is literally just filth, unprotected sex, exhibition, creampie, fluff, Fox being a tease

Summary: Seeing their favorite senator getting wrecked by their commander was certainly not in the Coruscant Guard’s mission briefing for today. 

A/N: I finally had the motivation to write some Fox smut thanks to this art. Huge thanks to @homie-one-kenobi​ for all the encouragement and help editing ❤️ Writing this has reduced me to a puddle so please enjoy 😂

         Lights flashed across the rows of seats, making you squint as another Mon Calamari dancer twirled elegantly. You tried to focus on the choreography, praying it would hold your attention but no matter what, you still couldn’t force yourself to enjoy the ballet. Watching it for a third time wasn’t changing your opinion, yet it wasn’t like you could’ve declined the offer. Your eyes flickered to the balcony opposite you, noting Fox’s absence for the fifth time in less than an hour, borderline glaring at the unfortunate Corrie taking his place. 

         A small part of you hated the poor sentry, his red armor acting as a constant reminder that for the last 21 rotations and 17 hours since Fox left for an off-world assignment, your bed had been cold and empty. Your eyes finally drifted away from the trooper and just barely stopped yourself from rolling your eyes at the small group of senators whispering praises. While you agreed that the performers were exceptional, you couldn’t follow the plot, leaving you to count down the seconds until the next intermission. A small part of you wished that Riyo or Padme were there to make the whole experience a little more bearable. 

         Years of etiquette training was the only thing that stopped you from jumping out of your seat when a booming voice announced the second intermission. Your aid that was standing near the back of the senatorial box shot you a sympathetic look and you appreciated the gesture even if there was nothing they could do to help. Just as the door was within reach, the faint call of your name had you stopping in your tracks, forcing your expression to remain pleasant. 

         “Senator Farr,” you greeted, managing a small smile. You had nothing against the Rodian senator, you quite liked him, but you really weren’t in the mood for small talk. You expected him to ask for your interpretation of the ballet only to surprise you when he ushered you into the bustling hall. 

         “How many more acts are there?” he whispered, leaning in to keep the conversation somewhat private. Your mouth twisted to the side in a poor attempt at hiding your amusement.

         “Three,” you replied, chewing on your top lip when Senator Farr’s already large eyes seemed to grow bigger. “I plan to feign a stomach bug for the next two.” 

         “Will it be any less believable if we both do?” he mused, glancing over your shoulder at the cluster of senators still talking about Act 2. 

         “Probably more believable,” you snickered, scratching the corner of your mouth to cover your persistent grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m not feeling well.”

         “Hm, now that you mention it,” Farr sighed, his forehead wrinkling in a show of distress that you found quite impressive. He chanced one last look over your shoulder before gently nudging your arm and hurrying toward the bathroom. You allowed yourself a fond laugh before heading in the direction of the lady’s room, making a detour through the nearby door at the last second. The click of your disgustingly uncomfortable shoes was deafening in the silent stairwell, making you pause at the top of the first flight to check no one had followed. 

         Once you were confident you were in the clear, you took the last flight at a slower pace, contemplating burning the fucking torture devices you called shoes the entire way. You paused one last time at the top of the steps, just to be safe, before slipping through the door at the top. A warm, orangish glow washed over you, melting some of the tension in your neck and shoulders as you stepped into the cupola. 

         It had been far too long since you’d ventured into the little hideaway, only able to admire the beautiful stained glass windows from afar. Most Coruscant residents had no idea there was even a room atop the opera house, meaning they missed out on one of the most beautiful views. You lazily wandered toward the window, lightly brushing your fingers over the marbled glass, watching the slightly distorted ecumenopolis below. Your original intention had been to find a refuge from the torture of sitting through three more acts but standing there, looking out across the capital world, all you felt was lonely. 

         The soft whir of the door was lost to your aching heart but there was no mistaking the muted footsteps approaching. Anyone else would’ve felt fear in that moment, yet you only sighed, knowing the taste of solace you found had come to an end. You let your hand linger on the cool glass for another second before dropping it, turning to face the presence lingering off to your left. 

         For a moment, you were convinced you were hallucinating, that maybe you were sick, when you turned to find a Coruscant Guard member watching you. There was no mistaking the pattern you had sought out in waves of red armor time and time again. He canted his head and it was so painfully familiar, it nearly brought tears to your eyes.

         “What are you doing here?” you blurted, your manners suddenly tumbling to Coruscant’s surface. Not that he minded. 

         “I could ask you the same thing,” Fox countered. Just hearing his voice, the unique inflection in his words that set him apart had your shoulders slumping like the marionette strings folding your facade up had been cut. Something between a sob and laugh tumbled past your lips, the sound seemed to break through the barrier Fox built around himself. The second his stance lost some of its rigidity you were moving, throwing your arms around his shoulders. The collision punched a grunt out of Fox but he barely even swayed, catching your weight with ease.

         “What are you doing here?” you repeated, the words muffled against his shoulder. It had been three long weeks since you saw him before he went dark for a security detail off-world. Fox smelled of blaster fire, caf, and sweat, a mixture that should’ve had your nose wrinkling, but right then, it was so perfectly him you pressed closer. 

         “Thought I’d pick up a security shift for a few senators spending the night at the opera,” Fox sighed, pressing the hard edge of his helmet against the side of your head. That had you pulling away, staring into his dark visor. How long had he been back? The question must’ve been written all over your face because Fox laughed, a soft, beautiful sound. “Relax, we landed maybe an hour before it started.”

         “Shouldn’t you be resting?” you mumbled, threading your fingers together at the back of his neck.

         “I’ll rest when I’m dead,” Fox snorted, pulling you as close as he dared. The bite of plastoid against your body was uncomfortable but you’d take it over his absence any day.

         “Drama queen,” you huffed with a fond eye roll. His helmet tipped down and you assumed he was pinning you with a dark glare, something you had never wanted to see more than you did in that moment. You carefully broke the seal, slowly lifting the bright red helmet off, not realizing you were holding your breath. Fox blinked a few times, gently shaking his head, tousling his longer-than-normal curls. But instead of a scowl, you were greeted with a soft smile that melted your heart. 

         “Hey,” he breathed, gently tracing the curve of your back. 

         “Stars, I missed you,” you rasped just before surging forward to capture his lips. Fox let out a soft, breathy laugh against your lips before gently cradling the back of your head, and leaning into the kiss. The bitterness of caf lingered on his lips, a taste you shouldn’t have missed seeing that you drank it just as often as Fox, however, it always seemed to taste better this way.   

         The kiss had started out sweet, a slow and tender brush of lips that made your heart flutter wildly. You intended to pull away until Fox started to knead the back of your neck, molding you against the curve of his chest. Every ounce of fatigue and anxiety you had been holding onto melted away as you coaxed his mouth open. Fox groaned softly, using his hold on your neck to angle your head back with an urgency you weren’t expecting. The shift had your head spinning to the point that you hadn’t realized you were moving until your back met the cool window.

         “Missed you too,” Fox mumbled, dragging his lips away from yours to pant against your cheek. “So fucking much.”

         “Mm, playing bodyguard for one of my colleagues wasn’t engaging enough,” you teased, carding through his messy hair. Fox nipped at your ear in retaliation, forcing a half-gasp, half-giggle past your lips. He tugged you tighter against his chest, the unforgiving plastoid of his codpiece pressing into your thigh, tempting you with what waited behind it. 

         “Like any of them could compare to you,” he breathed, nuzzling into your neck with a shallow roll of his hips. Maybe it was because you weren’t used to him being gone for long stretches of time but you were suddenly aching to feel something beyond GAR blacks and rigid plastoid. Fox yelped at the impatient tug on his codpiece, pulling back to dart his eyes between your hand and your face. 

         “What - what are you doing?” he hissed, glancing over his shoulder. Yet he didn’t try to move your hand, letting you trace the shape at a torturous pace. 

         “I’m trying to indulge in what I’ve been daydreaming about for weeks,” you huffed, playfully tugging on the clip holding the armor in place. You watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed before his expression shifted, brown eyes somehow growing darker in the low light. 

         “Right here?” Fox mused, crowding you against the window and pinning your hand in place. Daring you to bow out. “Now what if one of the boys looked up and saw us? How would they feel seeing their favorite senator being ruined by their commander?” 

         “Fox,” you gasped, closing your fist in his hair, and grinding into the curve of his thigh plate. The idea should’ve scared you, should’ve filled you with a numbing dread at the thought of anyone catching an esteemed senator with a Guard commander. Instead, you clenched around nothing, mouth falling open with your strained pants. 

         “Oh, you like that, honey,” Fox purred, his gloved hand slipping under the hem of your short skirt. Even through a layer of fabric, his touch left a trail of heat across your skin. The quiet whine that followed the first brush of his fingers over your cunt made him shiver in your grip. “Maker, you sound even sweeter than in my dreams.”

         “You - you dream about the s-sounds I make?” you panted, rocking forward in time with the drag of his fingers.

         “Oh, I dream about more than that,” he chucked, bumping his nose against yours.

         “Care to share?”

         “How long do you have?” 

         “For you?” you whispered, barely brushing your lips against his. “All the time in the galaxy.”

         “Is that so?” he mumbled, moving to pepper kisses down the side of your neck. You caught a glimpse of redness high on his cheeks just before a digit sank into you with little resistance. Your cunt clenched around his gloved finger, a strangled moan bursting from your lips as he pumped his finger once. The rough fabric of his gloves never bothered you before but the desperate, clawing need to feel the warmth of his skin had you squirming.

         “Take your gloves off,” you all but begged, “please.” You almost wished you hadn’t asked when he slowly, torturously, pulled away. He caught your eye, pinning you in place with a heavy look, never breaking eye contact as he brought his hand toward his face. You had witnessed Fox bring down a mercenary single-handedly after losing his blaster, seen him dissolve a full-fledged riot, and hit what should’ve been an impossible mark without batting an eye. Yet somehow the sight of his tongue curling around the soaked finger of his glove was more electrifying, setting your teeth on edge. 

         He pinned you in place, closing his lips around his finger; his lashes fluttered, a muffled groan filling the air as he savored your taste. Your lungs suddenly felt too small as you watched the slow drag of his digit over his full bottom lip. Fox was putting on a show, the twinkle in his lust-blown eyes giving him away and you were undoubtedly enjoying every second. A flash of white teeth sinking into the tip of the glove made your breath hitch, your eyes staying glued to the hem of the fabric as Fox tilted his head back, revealing strong, calloused hands. 

         Fox’s now bare hand came to rest lightly against your chest, following the curve of your body but your focus was zeroed in on the glove dangling from his teeth. He looked far too pleased with himself, a slight smirk lifting the corner of his mouth as he paused, letting you admire the view. The feather-light brush of his fingers over your heated skin jerked you back to reality but your eyes still followed the fabric when he turned his head, letting the glove fall to the floor before turning his attention back to you. 

         “Better?” he rumbled, brushing through your folds before sinking two fingers into you, his smug grin never fading. Your head bobbed in an almost frantic nod as you tried to bite back a moan. Fox’s smug smile wasn’t helping either. 

         “Fuck, yes,” you gasped, tightening your grip in his hair. Fox hummed in the back of his throat, lazily pumping his fingers like he had all the time in the world. You were suddenly reminded of your hand placement when he shifted his weight. If your brain didn’t feel like it might leak out of your ears, you would’ve been more impressed with the skillful way you unclipped his codpiece in one swift movement. 

         “You’re getting too good at that,” Fox groaned, rocking into your hand.

         “You only have yourself to blame,” you laughed breathlessly, tracing the shape of his hard length. He surged forward, his finger brushing a devastating spot inside you as his lips slammed into yours, muffling your incoherent cry. 

         “Will–will you let me,” he stammered between kisses, the sloppy roll of his hips growing rougher, “let me fuck you for all of Coruscant to see?” 

         “If–fuck–if you don’t–” you warned, trying to sound commanding, but your ability to form words was quickly narrowing to nothing more than curses and Fox’s name. That seemed to be all the permission he needed though as he licked into your mouth again, the hand that had been buried in your cunt coming up to grip your jaw. In a flurry of movement, you were suddenly facing the expanses of Coruscant, Fox’s warmth pressing against your back as he hiked your skirt up, bunching it around your hips.

         “Put your hands on the window, honey,” he rumbled, brushing his nose against the shell of your ear. You obeyed without a second thought, bracing both your hands against one of the orange panels; your heart fluttered when one of his large hands filled the space beside yours. “I wonder if I’ll be able to see our handprints every time I pass by.”

         The thought that you’d leave behind a reminder, something only you and Fox would know about, had you pushing back into him. He seemed to catch on, unceremoniously tugging his pants down just enough to free his weeping cock, slipping it between your thighs. There was a brief moment where he paused, his tip barely pressing into your folds like he was savoring the buildup before he pushed in. The stretch felt endless, your head falling forward as you panted around soft whimpers until he was fully sheathed. 

         “Stars,” you chuckled, feeling dizzy with how full you were, “almost forgot how big you are.” Fox’s hips jerked forward involuntarily, punching the air from your lungs. His free hands slowly followed the curve of your waist, catching on the flashy fabric of your outfit, pausing briefly to brush a thumb over your covered nipple. A shiver tore through you when his hand gently curled around your throat, never squeezing, only using his grip as a way to hold you in place. 

         “Guess I’ll have to remind you,” he growled, pausing long enough for the words to sink in before he moved. The first thrust tested your ability to hold yourself up but Fox barely gave you a moment to steady yourself before he picked up a brutal pace. If you weren’t so high above the bustling crowds, you might’ve been worried about how you cried out, throwing your head back against Fox’s shoulder. 

         “F-Fox,” you moaned, needing him to hear the desperation pumping through your veins. You mindlessly curled your fingers over the smooth window pane, forcing your eyes open when you met warm skin. Fox’s hand was still braced against the window, your hand half covering his after your frantic scrambling. You were so mesmerized by the sheer size difference that you didn't notice right away when Fox shifted his weight, hitting a spot that made your eyes cross. You blindly grabbed onto the back of his hand, fingers interlacing between his. Fox instinctively closed his hand, pressing your fingertips into the rough skin of his palm. He nuzzled against your cheek, his ragged breathing raising goosebumps along the length of your throat.

         “Fuck, you - you feel so good, cyar’ika” he whimpered, pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your cheek. You were both spiraling out of control, climbing higher and higher with each galaxy-shattering thrust. Fox’s usually composed attitude was long gone, leaving him just as desperate and pleasure-drunk as you were. The heat building under your skin had reached a scalding level but you just couldn’t seem to fall over the edge.

         “I– I’m so close,” you whispered, turning your head to try and find his lips. Fox mumbled something you couldn’t quite catch before his hand slid over your chest, coming to rest on your stomach. The pressure of his hand made each punch of his cock somehow more explosive, reminding you both just how deep he was; Fox’s strangled moan overlayed with yours, his hips losing their rhythm.

         “Never - fuck -  never leaving you behind again,” he panted, leaning heavily against your back to drop his hand lower. Every muscle in your lower half clenched when his fingers brushed your clit, ripping an unusually loud moan from deep in Fox’s chest. The movements of his fingers were sloppy but you were so lost in the blinding pleasure that it didn’t matter. It finally, finally, crested, throwing you over the edge with a cry of Fox’s name as you gushed around him.

         It only took three more thrusts before Fox went rigid, burying himself to the hilt with a soft, shaky moan. 

         Your thoughts cleared slowly, the fog of arousal melting away as you drifted back down to Coruscant. The empty cupola felt oddly quiet without the slap of skin on skin, leaving you to focus on Fox’s slightly labored breathing. Your eyes drifted back to where your hands were still braced against the stained glass, a small smile lifting the corner of your mouth when you noticed that your hand was still wrapped around Fox’s larger one. Flashing speeder lights caught your attention, drawing your gaze to the traffic zipping past the opera house. 

         “Think anyone saw us?” you wondered absently. Fox laughed, loud and unguarded, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder and the sound alone was enough to make your stomach do a funny little flip.

         “We may never know,” Fox snickered, kissing the base of your neck. The deafening chirp of Fox’s comm brought you crashing back to reality, but you did your best to not let your disappointment show when he reached up to tap a button on his vambrace. “Fox.”

         “Gotta question for you, Commander,” Thorn said in place of a greeting. Fox propped his chin on your shoulder, humming softly when you let your head drop to the side, resting your temple against his. 

         “Yes, Thorn.” There was a pregnant pause, your brows pulling together when you swore you heard a muffle laugh through the channel. 

         “You, uh, wouldn’t happen to be in the opera house’s cupola, would you?” Thorn snickered. Your stomach plummeted to your feet while Fox stiffened behind you. There was no denying it since Fox’s cock was still buried inside you. You tilted your head down, searching for a few dots of red in the sea of creatures, easily finding them near the opera house’s entrance. 

         “No,” Fox replied stiffly, only making the situation worse.

         “Oh really?” a slightly different voice huffed. You glanced to the side, arching a brow in question. Fox rolled his eyes but mouthed, Stone, before returning his attention back to the comm. 

         “Heya, senator!” Thorn shouted. You only knew it was him because just as the greeting came through, you saw one of the dots with more red paint raise an arm, waving it wildly.

         “How’d you know?” Fox grumbled, sounding close to pouting in your opinion.

         “We can see your shadows, shit for brains,” Thorn wheezed, barely getting his sentence out between fits of laughter. 

         “Go do your fucking jobs,” Fox snapped, punching the button to end the call a little too hard. You had managed to keep a straight face throughout the call but you were steadily losing the battle against laughter. “I’m glad you find it funny.”

         “I’m surprised you don’t,” you giggled, lightly resting your head against his temple. Fox huffed and hid his face against your shoulder, faintly shaking his head. 

         “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” he groaned, mindlessly squeezing your fingers that were still intertwined with his.

         “About getting caught,” you wondered, letting a smirk pull at the corner of your mouth, “or how hot it looked from their perspective?” Fox sounded defeated as he brought your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

         “Both.” 

Taglist: @techs-feral-wife​ (thank you for your help too Max ❤️)

[wanderinginksplot]

Commander Fox + Mercenary!Reader

As a mercenary, you travel in and out of Coruscant a lot. You find it more than a little strange that Commander Fox himself always seems to be on the Coruscant Guard team investigating your transport when you come back planetside...

Commander Fox x gn!reader (platonic-ish, with a hint toward future feelings)

Thanks to @nowait-whathappened for the prompt!

Word Count: 3.4k words

Warnings: mentions of weapons, mentions of bodily injuries, implied lack of trust

Masterlist

---

“Transport 47816, prepare for boarding.”

The groans that echoed through the transport ship were instant and harsh. None of the familiar faces around you held an expression more pleasant than ‘irritation’, but you were well used to this by now. 

“Why?” Kann bit out harshly. You tried not to roll your eyes, but it was a close thing. As the Lament’s near-constant pilot, Kann knew exactly why you were being boarded just outside of Coruscant’s airspace, but that didn’t mean he was going to make things easy. 

“Transport 47816, you’re returning from a neutral star system. It’s protocol.”

Kann snarled. “Shove the protocol up your-”

“Shut up and let the troopers on the ship,” Skoh ordered. “I don’t have time for you to argue with the whole damn Guard.”

Despite his previous eagerness for a fight, Kann clenched his jaw and nodded. “Dropping shields now.” 

Kann was one of the more reckless members of the Lament, but Nakte Skoh was a force to be reckoned with. When the tall Togruta spoke, every one of the mercenaries on the team listened. Disobeying him was a good way to get killed - sometimes by the enemy and sometimes by Skoh himself. 

The troopers who boarded the transport were wearing the familiar Coruscant Guard colors. You even recognized a few of the patterns and greeted them with a slight nod. You wouldn’t have minded being a little more exuberant, but not among your coworkers. It would be unwise to show too much emotion surrounded by mercenaries. 

“Everyone stand.” Grumbling. “Leave all weapons here. We will be interviewing each of you separately.” More grumbling, even as everyone started to reluctantly comply. 

The trooper issuing instructions was none other than the commander of the Coruscant Guard, Commander Fox. You could recognize him by his visored helmet easily enough, but there was something in his voice. What exactly made his tone was hard to pinpoint, but if pressed, you thought you could pick it out of a crowd. Even if that crowd were made up of other clone troopers. 

So you stood with the others, smoothly pulling your blasters and blades out from their usual places. The pile they made on your empty seat was respectable, the wear on the weapons a mark of your ability to use every one. With a last quick count to make sure none of the other mercenaries decided to take something that wasn’t theirs, you followed everyone to the link between your ship and the Guard’s. 

“Hope they’ll be less stupid about their weapons checks this time,” Yarrex muttered to you. The Kiffar was impatient at the best of times, but she knew her stuff better than most. “Last time, they misaligned the power pack on my rifle. If I hadn’t checked, it would have taken all of us out.”

You nodded fervently, remember how close a call that had been. Yarrex’s rifle had been actively overheating by the time she returned to the transport ship and she had hissed loud curses the whole time she fixed it. You couldn’t blame her - the smell from the flesh of her fingertips burning had lingered in the ship for days. 

There was a Coruscant Guard trooper just inside the larger ship, ushering you to your ultimate destination. “This way, down the hall-”

“-And to the right,” you finished. “I know, I know.”

“Been here a few times?” Yarrax asked over her shoulder. 

You shrugged, glad there was no one else behind you. What you were about to say could easily turn into tales of bad luck, and eventually spiral into you not being hired onto as many jobs. “Every single time I come back to Coruscant.”

“That’s not fair,” one of the trooper protested. 

You aimed a dry look in his direction. “We both know it is, Chase.” 

“I didn’t know they had names,” Kann remarked as he was led to one of the interrogation rooms. 

Yarrax hissed disapprovingly at his back. The trooper stammered, “I- I’m not Chase.”

“Save it,” Skoh advised with a nod in your direction. “That one can smell lies.”

Chase glanced at you, clearly nervous even through the protective cover of his helmet. You gave him a broad smile and went to sit down. 

Chase and the trooper who had directed you to the interrogation area were watching the room. The unfamiliar one had a medic’s cross on one shoulder and you wondered idly whether the Guard was expecting trouble. 

They shouldn’t, honestly. The standard Coruscant Guard procedure was to pull everyone into individual rooms to ask questions about the most recent mission. The Lament had some latitude in the way they conducted business, but everyone made a point of being as vague as possible in their answers. It was an entertaining game you all played when you came back to Coruscant. 

Though, apparently, no one played it as often as you. 

There were two interrogation rooms being used at the moment. The ship had at least a few more, but Lament missions were made up of ten mercenaries by rule - no more, no less. With Kann and another mercenary in the interrogation rooms, there apparently weren’t enough of you to warrant using more rooms. 

Mercenaries weren’t the most lively and talkative bunch, especially not after a long mission. A few of them shut their eyes to catch a few moments of sleep. The lone Nautolan in the Lament, a female named Veng, worked on repairing a tear she had gotten in the shoulder of her shirt. The needle flashing in and out of the ripped halves was mesmerizing, but your attention was caught by Skoh. 

Your leader was watching the room, gaze intent as he studied the mercenaries and the troopers watching you. There was no real tension in him, not even the kind disguised by the specific relaxation he took on when a negotiation was leading toward violence. But he was awake and alert, so you decided that you should be, too. 

Not that there was any reason to, of course. Skoh and Yarrix were the next to disappear into interview rooms as the first two went back to the transport ship. You weren’t among the next two to be called, or the ones after that. When it was only you and Veng left on the Guard ship, the door opened for Khyr to step out. Commander Fox stood in the doorway, sternly announcing that you were next. 

Veng didn’t glance up to see the amused look you gave her, but that was fine. It hadn’t really been for her, anyway. The commander stepped aside for you to enter the interrogation room, then closed the door before following you to the table. 

“Commander Fox,” you greeted with a nod. “How are you? How’s the wife?” 

The commander removed his helmet, all the better for you to see the confusion and exasperation mingling on his handsome face. “The wife.” 

“Or husband,” you amended. “Or partner. Non-specific.”

“I don’t have any of those,” he told you. “Did you get hit on the head during this massacre?”

You rolled your eyes at him, the way you always did when he disparaged your line of work. “Not a massacre. Not this time, at least. We do things other than kill people, you know.” 

“Yeah? What was the objective on this mission?” 

It just so happened that the mission you were returning from had been far more violent than expected, so you stepped neatly around the question. “Anyway, the point is that I see you so often, I feel like I should get to know something about your life. With anyone else, I would know about their partner or children or pets or hobbies. I see you more often than my parents.” 

“That so?” Fox asked, tilting his head to deliver his skeptical expression to best effect.

“Not in the slightest,” you admitted easily. “But it has come to my attention that not every Lament mission gets investigated by the Guard when they return to Coruscant.” 

Fox stiffened slightly. “We do our best to stop every transport, but our team is spread thin…”

“I’m not doubting your work, Commander,” you assured, “just your selection methods. Why is it that my team is always the one to be stopped?” 

“Coincidence.” 

Now, it was your turn to be skeptical. “You’ll have to do better than that, Fox.” 

His eyes widened briefly and you wondered if you had offended him by dropping his title, but he recovered in the next instant. “Are you suggesting that we should be suspicious of you?” 

“No, but you are,” you countered. “Otherwise, why would you always be focused on my missions?” 

“I told you: we aren’t.” 

Despite the way Fox’s teeth were gritted, you pushed on. You had a trump card, and you intended to play it: “Then why are you here? You, specifically? The Head Commander of the Coruscant Guard, investigating a transport full of mercenaries? You have better things to be doing than this. It’s suspicious.”

“I’ve told you, it’s a coincidence.” Fox sounded overly stubborn, even for him. 

You lifted your hands innocently in front of yourself and leaned backward in your chair. “Fine, fine. Total coincidence. Your complete lack of supporting evidence or further arguments has convinced me. Proceed with your interrogation, Commander.” 

He scowled intensely at you, but sat in the chair across from yours and started with the typical round of questions. Name, address, interplanetary work-travel permit number, employer, job title.

When you had answered them all successfully, Fox set his datapad down on the table between you. “Now, tell me about the mission you completed just prior to coming back to Coruscant.” 

“We were on Raydonia,” you answered easily. “We were hired to protect a village.” 

Fox gestured for you to continue when you stopped. “And what were you protecting them from?” 

“They were hit by two unknowns a few weeks ago.” The explanation was a little shaky, but it was the only one you had been given. It was still more than you usually got for a job and you were fine with that, but Fox seemed determined to think you were untrustworthy. “They took some of the most powerful warriors in the village. The village elders were worried some of the surrounding people might take the chance to attack them. They were right.” 

“Were there any casualties?” Fox asked, carefully not looking at you. 

You smiled despite yourself. “No Republic citizens were harmed.”

It was a vague and a polite way of reminding him that he had no jurisdiction over things that happened outside of Republic-controlled planets. Technically speaking, Fox had no jurisdiction over things that happened outside of Coruscant, but you wouldn’t bet on that stopping him. 

“And among your team?” he asked. “No injuries or deaths?”

“Nothing major,” you told him with a shrug. “You can count. I’m sure you noticed all ten of us are here and accounted for.” 

“What about minor injuries?” he pressed. 

You knew better than to shift in your chair, or look away from the easy eye contact you had maintained up to that point. Fox was an expert, and a sharp one at that. The smallest possible tell and he would know everything there was to know. That was what made him dangerous.

“None to speak of.” 

Even your flawless delivery left him looking distinctly skeptical. “Then why are you limping?” 

Despite the surge of frustrated exasperation that rose in you, your lips curved into a smile. “You’re too observant for your own good, Commander.” 

“Which isn’t an answer.” 

That made you chuckle aloud. “No, it wasn’t. But since you’re so insistent on an explanation, I sustained a minor injury on the mission. I treated it promptly and it is well on its way to healing.”

“How were you injured?”

Dimly, you wondered if Fox realized that he had leaned forward slightly under the weight of his own intensity. But only dimly, because most of your attention was drawn to the way he was even more handsome from a shorter distance away. 

“Why?” 

Fox blinked, and it seemed to break the spell he had put himself under. An instant later, he was scowling again - a fairly regular expression for him during these stops. “Because I’m the Head Commander of the Coruscant Guard and I asked you a direct question.” 

“I don’t answer to you,” you reminded him, privately savoring the look of profound irritation blossoming on his face. “Not about missions that take place in independent systems. Even if they result in injuries.”

“Maybe I have cause to believe that you sustained that injury in Republic territory,” Fox proposed. “Maybe I need proof you aren’t lying to me.” 

For a mercenary, you were even-tempered. Remarkably so, in fact. It helped you get along with your more volatile coworkers. But you did have a temper, and when it sparked, you were far from subtle. 

The slam of the chair’s front legs reconnecting with the floor was loud. Fox didn’t jump - he had too much control over himself for that - but his eyes darted to yours in a way that made his surprise evident. Your hands connecting with the top of the table between you was loud, too, the sound specifically and purposefully sharp.

You leaned in toward Fox and the expression on your face was unpleasant enough that he looked concerned. “I like you, Fox. I think you’re a good man doing your best in the galaxy’s worst job. That’s why I’m gonna give you this one warning: I do not appreciate being called a liar.”

“I didn’t-” 

Your gaze was hard as you stared him in the eyes. Fox looked startled as well as concerned by that point. He had never seen you truly pissed before. 

“Yes, you did,” you said firmly. “I will be the first to admit that I exaggerate. I dramatize. I embellish for comedic effect. But I do not lie. I have never lied to you or any of your men, despite what is verging on harassment. I do not intend to lie in the future, and I don’t want to file a harassment charge, but all of that depends on you.”

It was honestly a shock when Fox didn’t take advantage of your pause to speak. It told you that he understood how deadly serious you were. With his attention sharp on you, you told him, “I’m a reasonable person. I am willing to overlook this misstep… once. And that offer is entirely dependent on what you say next.”

“I’m sorry,” Fox said, honesty ringing in the simple words. You waited for more and he obliged: “You’re right, you have never lied to me - to any of us. Not about anything big. It was unfair of me to accuse you of it.” 

“And why did you?” you asked. 

The question felt a little like twisting a blade in an injury, but you needed to know. You needed to know that it wasn’t going to happen again, and if it did, you needed to know enough to anticipate it. Because you had grown to respect Commander Fox, damn it, and it had hit surprisingly hard to have him misjudge your morals so dramatically. 

“I… don’t like the idea of you being injured,” Fox admitted, sounding mystified. You understood, since that explanation left you feeling a little mystified yourself. “I would like to know about your injury if you’ll agree to tell me.”

You watched the commander for another long moment, doing your best to gauge his sincerity. It wasn’t easy - especially since it required you to look past those lovely eyes and flawless bone structure - but you managed. It was one of your most reliable skills, after all. Fox seemed to be telling you the truth.

When you leaned your chair backward again, the tension in the room shattered. You sent him a cryptic half-smile. “You know us mercenaries,” you drawled. “We don’t give away anything for free. You ask your question and I’ll ask mine. A truthful answer for a truthful answer.”

Fox considered it for only a moment before he nodded. “How did you get injured?”

“One of the attacking villagers had better aim than I expected,” you said, smiling wryly. “After I pulled his vibroblade from my calf, I changed my previous opinion.”

“Do you have a bacta patch on it?” Fox asked. “If not, I can get you a fresh one before you go back to your transport.” 

“I already have one, thanks,” you assured him. “And I’m feeling generous, so I’m going to point out the fact that I let you ask two questions. Now it’s my turn.” 

Luckily for Fox, you really were in a good mood again. You only let him dangle in his discomfort for a few moments before you asked your question. “Do you always stop my transport on purpose?” 

“Yes.” 

For all that you had suspected that answer, hearing it directly was shocking. 

Instead of responding immediately, you paused for a moment to take a breath. If Fox was targeting you specifically, you had to believe there was a reason. And since you had already come this far, you may as well find out what that reason was. “Why?”

Fox looked reluctant and faintly uncomfortable. It was the look you imagined most of the troopers got when they were asked to do an unpleasant chore. But, to Fox’s credit, he gave the answer he had promised. 

“You’re not the typical mercenary.” You frowned, already opening your mouth, but he quickly went on. “Not that you don’t have your skills, but I’ve been keeping a close eye on the missions you’re a part of. That is, the Coruscant Guard has. There is a concern among the men that the Lament would leave you behind on a mission or allow an injury to go untreated.”

Well, it was an explanation, but you felt like it left you with more questions than answers. “Nice to know you guys worry about me, but I still don’t understand why you care.”

Fox shrugged, but the casual gesture was belied by the way his eyes were locked with yours. “You look at us like we’re human.” 

You frowned again. 

“And I… admire you,” Fox added quietly. “You have a code and you follow it. Unusual, especially for a mercenary.” 

“Again with the insults about my work.” Despite your heavy sigh, your tone was playful, and you knew he would take it as the tease that it was. “I look forward to seeing you too, Fox. That’s why I haven’t complained about being stopped every time we come back to Coruscant.”

He gave you a disbelieving look and you laughed. “Okay, fine. That’s why I don’t complain too much.”

Fox didn’t immediately reply. Normally, the two of you traded barbs and witty remarks back and forth so quickly that it would make an onlooker’s head spin. But you didn’t feel the need to say anything further and, apparently, neither did he. The room filled with a surprisingly comfortable silence, warm and cozy in a way that durasteel interrogation rooms rarely managed.  

“So you’ve decided against filing harassment charges?” Fox asked at length. 

“I have no intention of it,” you told him. “We made a deal. Guess that’s more evidence of my rare and admirable moral code…”

Fox rolled his eyes and you laughed. Before he could say something sarcastic, you added, “Besides, I think I would miss seeing you guys if you stopped checking up when I return from missions.”

“You would miss us?” You would have accused Fox of fishing for a compliment if he hadn’t sounded so charmingly stunned. 

“Of course,” you told him, narrowly stopping yourself from winking at him. He really was a very attractive man. “But I need to get back to the transport now. They wouldn’t leave without me, but one of the others might get a little grabby with the weapons I left behind. Especially since I have a sharp new vibroblade.”

Fox stood when you did, leading the way to the door with a suspicious look on his face. “This isn’t the vibroblade that…” He finished the question only with a vague gesture toward your injured leg.

“If someone stabs me with a knife, I get to keep it,” you told him seriously. “I believe that is common courtesy.”

“No new weapons on this next mission, then,” Fox said as he stood aside to let you pass. “No risks, no injuries, no killing.”

You shook your head in exasperation, already starting down the hall back to the Lament’s transport. “I’m starting to think you don’t understand what being a mercenary is, Commander.”

---

Author's Note - Happy Fox day! I knew I wanted to write something for 10/10, and big thanks to @nowait-whathappened for giving me this prompt! Thank you for reading and have a wonderful day!

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[enigmaticexplorer]

I trust him, and he trusts me

Summary: When Wolffe accidentally interrupts a private moment between you and Fox, dynamics change. And even though you’re mistrustful of most men and reserved with the intimacies of your life, you find yourself opening up to Wolffe. Much to Fox’s pleasure.

Pairings: Established Fox x female!reader. Fox x female!reader x Wolffe.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Minors DNI.

Word count: 7.6K

Read on AO3. 

A/N: Please know that hygiene is of the upmost importance to me. I may not explicitly state in my works that people wash their hands before any type of sexual contact, but they do. Everyone always washes their hands.

A wet tongue flattened itself against your clit and you moaned. A spark of heat coiled tighter inside of you, the beginnings of what you hoped for so desperately.

The tongue circled your clit. Slow, tortuous circles that had your hips posturing, your cunt fluttering, your hands trembling.

At your sharp tug on his curls, Fox groaned. The vibration from the guttural noise stroked your cunt. Like a shock of lightning, pleasure rocked through your body and you gasped, arching off the bed. Heavy pants hissed between your teeth, your fingers clinging to Fox’s hair for steadiness.

Strong hands held you down, deft fingers massaging into your hips. The heat of his mouth enveloped your clit and Fox sucked. Your legs squeezed the breadth of his shoulders at the same moment your cunt clenched.

“Oh gods,” you moaned. Deep inside of you, pressure mounted. Sharpened. “Fox—”

The door to your bedroom swung open.

Wrenched from the pleasure addling your thoughts, you jerked up. Your breaths faltered and you stared wide-eyed at the intruder.

For in the doorway of your bedroom stood Commander Wolffe.

Nude body fully displayed, you wrapped a protective arm around your chest, trying to close your legs.

Except Fox still held your hips, his shoulders holding your thighs wide open, refusing to let you go. His upper lip curled and his narrowed eyes took in your sweaty body, took in what you assumed to be both surprise and unease on your face. He shifted himself, just enough to cover your body.

Face drawn in a scowl, Wolffe assessed the situation, his gaze lingering on yours for a long moment. The reality of the situation seemed to catch up to him and a muscle flexed in his jaw. Crossing his arms over his chest, he faced the door.

“Apologies,” he grumbled.

“That’s okay,” you said.

It really wasn’t. You had been so close. A month of letting Fox pursue his whole “oral sex is pleasurable, give me a chance to prove it” thing, trusting him with a vulnerability you usually ignored, led to this moment, and his stupid brother had to interrupt.

Reaching for the sheet, you pulled it atop your naked body, blinking at Fox. Your partner was still scowling, his umbrage palpable in the small bedroom.

“We need to speak,” Wolffe said. Tone sharp, slightly annoyed, you knew he wasn’t speaking to you.

Your interactions with the commander were minimal, a mere crossing of paths whenever you visited Fox at his office. And while Wolffe had always been cordial—not friendly, but certainly respectful—you were not comfortable with him seeing you in such a compromising position.

Hell, you weren’t comfortable with any person seeing you naked, much less with a man’s head between your legs.

Only Fox held your trust. And he held it with careful hands, protective of the trust you both had developed the past year. Protective of the trust you gave to no one. No one, except him.

The same muscle in Wolffe’s jaw twitched in Fox’s and the man gently closed your legs, his fingers massaging your calf. An uncharacteristic glare darkened his features and he patted your calf, pushing himself to his feet.

“Were you close?” he asked softly.

It took an embarrassingly long amount of time for you to realize he was talking to you. And when it registered, heat warmed your cheeks. His tone was casual, intrigued, even though his brother was standing in the room and could hear.

Shifting uncomfortably under the sheet, you nodded. Fox ran a hand through his hair, the curls at his temples silvered, and then released a bitter chuckle. He continued to stare at you, his jaw working. Shoulders stiffening, he offered you a tight smile.

“I’ll be right back. We can continue—”

“It’s okay.” At his flicker of disappointment, you grimaced, fiddling with the sheet. “I don’t think…”

A meaningful look passed between you both and Fox nodded in understanding. Humiliation sunk into your body. Cold and unwelcome, you dropped your gaze to your hands, swallowing against the tears itching the backs of your eyes.

You would not cry. You would not.

A light tap encouraged you to look up. Fox squeezed your calf again, his expression gentle yet firm. He didn’t need to vocalize his thoughts for you to know what he was thinking.

Everything is okay. We’re okay.

The phrase he told you whenever something like this happened. Whenever your body reacted in an unwanted way.

His smile softened and he squeezed your thigh before turning on his heel and shoving Wolffe in the back. The door swung shut but you didn’t miss the baleful glare Fox shot his brother.

The door clipped shut and Wolffe faced his vod. He was expecting Fox’s annoyance. He was not expecting his fury. And he sure as fuck hadn’t expected his vod to slam his hands against his chest and shove him backwards.

Wolffe stumbled and Fox swung. Blocking his vod’s fist, he sidestepped another punch. He shoved Fox away and backtracked a meter, creating distance.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Fox snarled.

Wolffe rolled his eyes. Today had been long enough without dealing with a dumbass vod in love. “How the fuck was I supposed to know you were fucking?”

“We were in her fucking bedroom.” Fox glanced back at the closed door and winced. Taking a step closer, he lowered his voice. “We’ve been working on that for a month and you just had to fucking interrupt.”

Wolffe frowned. “You’ve been working on what for a month?”

“She can’t orgasm without a vibrator.” Running a hand through his hair, Fox sighed. “We’ve been working on it.”

“You’re telling me that you can’t get your woman to orgasm?” Wolffe said slowly, plainly. “I knew you weren’t as good as me, but what the actual fuck, Fox’ika?”

“Fuck off,” Fox hissed. “She’s uncomfortable with oral and we’re taking this slowly. It took me a fucking year to get her to trust me. I’m not fucking this up.”

A hint of guilt stabbed at his conscious and Wolffe grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze travelled to the closed door. No wonder you looked petrified the moment he walked in. Awkward situation aside, if you were trying to overcome discomfort with Fox, his arrival probably set the two of you back a bit.

“She can orgasm, right?” He wasn’t sure why the question forced its way out, but it felt important enough to ask.

“ ‘Course she can. With a vibrator.” Fox shrugged. “She gets too in her head—she thinks she’s taking too long or it’s not enjoyable for me and then she can’t.” He kicked at the floor. “I thought it would be useful to find someone who could help. Touch her and kiss her—”

“—so she gets distracted.”

Nodding, Fox heaved a heavy sigh. “But she doesn’t trust anyone. She doesn’t want a random man being with her like that.”

“Then choose someone she knows,” Wolffe said. The solution was fucking simple, even for a di’kut like Fox. “Cody. Or Rex.”

“Thought about it.” Fox shot him an annoyed look, probably reading his former thought. “I introduced her to them but she was too shy. She’s already reserved, and when she knows that’s why I’m introducing her to those vode, she gets even more mistrustful.”

“That’s… tough.”

Wolffe glanced at the chrono on his wrist. He gave his vod thirty more seconds to mope and then he straightened. “All right. There was a jail break.”

79s was not your favorite place on Coruscant. There were few places that appealed to you, and a club overcrowded with drunk men, too loud music, and strobe lights that hurt your eyes did not meet criteria. However, the place was special to Fox. A safe place for him to be with his brothers outside of work, share a drink with them, and make sure they were doing okay.

While you held no love for 79s, you cared enough for Fox to appreciate the club for the sanctuary it provided.

Lifting your hand to his lips, Fox brushed a soft kiss to your knuckles and returned your intertwined hands to his side. A simple gesture he did often whenever he was engrossed in conversation, as he was now, listening to a group of younger men. New transfers to the Coruscant Guard. Men Fox prioritized to get to know tonight.

Men who blinked wide eyes—awed by his presence—while he talked.

Much of what Fox did in the midst of the war earned him a certain reputation amongst the men outside the Guard. A reputation based on disagreement with certain orders he oversaw and acted upon. And while the Guard was steadfast in their loyalty to Fox, there were many in the ranks who held little care for him, much less respected him.

He wore a façade—one that spoke of control and indifference—to hide the guilt you knew gnawed at him. The guilt that woke him in the middle of the night and left him sitting on the edge of your bed with his head in his hands and his breaths erratic.

Never reacting to the disgruntled comments and bitter remarks muttered about him, Fox hid his emotions well. Over the months, though, you saw through the cracks. You saw the guilt and shame; you saw the hurt he refused to vocalize.

To see him speaking with these new transfers, to see the respect in their faces and their eagerness to prove themselves to him, soothed the defensiveness you felt on his behalf.

Fox squeezed your hand. A silent apology for your lack of inclusion in the conversation. You told him, on multiple occasions, you didn’t mind listening to his conversations with his brothers. That was the purpose of your visits to 79s, and you liked seeing him with his men. Liked how the stiffness eased from his shoulders, how his smile softened, how the lines marring his forehead and eyes smoothed.

But he always felt guilty whenever the conversation lasted longer than a few minutes.

“All right, boys,” Fox said. He clapped a hand to the shoulder of the closest man. “Go grab another drink. And remember: don’t contribute or take away from the population tonight.”

Rolling your eyes while smiling at the silly advice he always used with new recruits, you waved to the men as they wandered away.

“I like them,” you said.

Fox grabbed your waist and pulled you into his chest. An amused grin tugged on his lips. “You always like them.”

“You liked them, too.” Resting your hands on his chest, you quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t try and pretend otherwise.”

“I did like them.” His head lowered, his eyes hooded as his lips brushed against yours. “But I want to spend tonight with you.”

A comfortable warmth enveloped your body and you closed your eyes, leaning into him, leaning into the soft, pliant heat of his mouth. Your tongue teased the seam of his lips. His brushed yours, friendly and flirtatious. Before he could deepen the kiss and you both lost yourselves in the heady embrace of the other, you pulled away. Voyeurism and exhibition may have been Fox’s proclivities, but you weren’t comfortable with either. No matter the subtleties of his current intent.

With a quiet chuckle, Fox trailed soft kisses along your jaw, to your ear, his hands pulling you even closer. Close enough his hardening cock nestled firmly against your stomach. Your fingers curled into his shirt and you tilted your head to the side, sighing quietly at the flick of his tongue to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he said quietly.

“Mm-hmm.” You leaned back so you could meet his gaze. “Those men adore you.” Lifting a hand to his face, you smoothed his cheekbone, brushing a few stray curls from his forehead. “I wish you could see yourself the way those men do. The way I do.”

Fox exhaled a strained breath and dropped his forehead to yours. The hands on your waist expanded across your back until he was holding you. Embracing you.

It was always shocking when Fox dropped the hardened exterior he wore around his subordinates and superiors. The exterior that kept you away from his advances for so many months. Only when he had had a moment like this—a moment of silent vulnerability when the hurt he hid so well showed itself and he embraced you tightly, his hands trembling—did you finally start to trust him.

“Thank you, mesh’la,” he whispered hoarsely.

With a brush of his lips to your cheek, Fox scanned the crowd and grimaced.

“Need to take a piss,” he said. The corner of his lip twitched and he winked. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“Go.” Unwinding yourself from his grip, you nodded toward the closest bar. “Find me over there.”

With a squeeze to your shoulder, Fox disappeared into the crowd. You made your way to the bar, prepared to sit and rest your feet. Instead, a human male—non-clone—cut off your path. A bottle in his hand and a friendly expression on his face, he dipped his chin.

“Nice dress,” he said.

The comment was harmless, and his relaxed demeanor convinced you he wasn’t a bother, so you smiled your thanks.

He took a step closer. “Are you here alone?”

Before you could refute his advances, two large hands landed atop your shoulders. Instinctively, you stiffened, your jaw clenching. Though the hands were gentle, their pressure light, you didn’t know who they belonged to—

“She’s spoken for.”

The depth of the voice, similar to Fox’s yet underlined by a perpetual gruffness, alerted you to the hands’ owner. Breathing a small sigh of relief, you relaxed. And on your exhale, you realized how close Wolffe stood. Little space separated his chest from your back, and if you so chose, you could easily lean into him. Little effort and little craning. He was standing far too close.

The man in front of you took one look at Wolffe and turned on his heel.

“That was rude.” You faced the commander and his hands fell from your shoulders, crossing his chest. His expression was apathetic and yet you could have sworn there was a hint of accusation. Strong enough of a hint that you stiffened, feeling defensive. “I was going to tell him about Fox.” Lips pursing, you eyed him. “I would never cheat on him, if that’s your concern.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Wolffe studied your face for a moment too long. The assessment in his gaze was too reminiscent of the night he saw you with Fox and you internally winced. “I wanted to apologize, again, for barging in.”

Heat warmed your cheeks and you looked away. “I already said it was okay.”

In your periphery, Wolffe scoffed. “It was okay enough you won’t look me in the eye?”

You gave him a disapproving look. “Did you need something, Commander?”

“It’s Wolffe.” The corner of his lip twitched. “Use it.”

With that, Wolffe pushed his way through the crowd, and a second later, Fox reappeared.

“Your brother is an asshole,” you grumbled.

A knowing grin lit Fox’s face as he leaned against the bar’s counter. “I don’t need you to tell me which brother you’re speaking of.”

“I don’t think he likes me.” A small smile curved your mouth and you stepped closer, intertwining your fingers.

“Impossible,” Fox said quietly. And though his expression was teasing, a serious note underscored his tone. His knuckles knocked beneath your jaw and titled your head back. “He’s jealous of me.”

You laughed and his grin widened.

“Seriously, my mesh’la.” Fox lowered his face, his lips a mere hairsbreadth away. He smiled against your mouth. “He knows I’m one lucky bastard.”

To the outsider, his words could be taken as a mere throwaway. But you knew Fox. You knew the subtle shifts in his expressions and tone. You knew when he was teasing and when he was being serious. Vulnerable.

His simple comment reminded you why you were with him. Why you trusted him so much. Even though you were difficult to know, guarded and aloof, he never gave up on you.

A knock on your door told you something was wrong. A peek through the peephole and the sight of an armored Commander Wolffe confirmed your suspicion.

Unnerved, you cracked open your door. “I’m surprised you know how to knock.”

Wolffe stared at you for a long second. He blinked once. The lines around his mouth tightened. And then he released a chuff of a chuckle. A tiny, amused smile worked its way across his lips and he looked down the hall, wiping his hand across his mouth.

When his gaze returned to yours, his expression was serious. “Fox won’t make it tonight.”

Your thoughts stalled on something painful and scary. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Wolffe leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, eyes narrowed as he peered into your apartment. His nose wrinkled and you could have sworn the quirk of his eyebrow meant he liked the scent of your dinner. “There was a terrorist threat on some senators. He has to clean up the mess.”

“Oh.” So long as he was alive and safe, and his men were alive and safe, and no one else was dead, then you could relax. “Thank—”

“Are you baking bread?”

The utter shock in his question caught you off guard and you frowned. “I am.”

“Hmm.” His gaze slid back to yours.

Something about his question and then his blasé response rubbed you the wrong way. You weren’t a connoisseur of fine food. But you weren’t unskilled either. “Is there a problem?”

“It smells good.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Wolffe shrugged and your eyes narrowed. “Fox never complains about my cooking.”

“That’s not the compliment you think it is.” Straightening and with a glance at his chrono, Wolffe gave you a bored look. “If my vod asks, tell him I was overly apologetic on his behalf.”

Snorting, you started to close your door but you hesitated. Dinner was served for two, and if Fox couldn’t make it tonight, you could gift Wolffe a serving to take back to his office. On behalf of Fox’s perpetual concern for his brothers, but especially concern for the apathetic commander walking away.  

“Wolffe?” The commander halted, glancing over his shoulder. You hesitated for only three seconds. “Would you like some dinner? I have enough for two people. Well, one normal person and then a second person who eats a lot.”

Surprise furrowed Wolffe’s brows and he hesitated, scanning your face. You almost rolled your eyes at his evidential skepticism. In a slow, controlled movement, he turned back around and took a barely perceptible step in your direction. More seconds passed as he hesitated again. His head cocked to the side as he studied your face.

If he was going to be uptight about the food he ate, then you wouldn’t have bothered—

“All right.”

The commander strolled into your apartment and made his way to the kitchen, setting his helmet on one of your chairs and then washing his hands in your sink. Somewhat startled by his abrupt response yet also satisfied by your intent, you were retrieving a container large enough for both the curry and a few rolls when you caught sight of Wolffe dishing two bowls. You stilled, frowning.

Oblivious to your confusion, Wolffe set the bowls on the table and returned, placing a few rolls on a plate. As he took a seat, he shot you a hard look.

“What?”

You hid the container behind your back. “Nothing.”

There was a loss in translation, apparently. Wolffe thought you were inviting him to eat with you, and since he was already seated at your table, and he had been kind enough to prepare your dishes, you felt too awkward to ask him to leave.

Taking a seat, you glanced at him. Wolffe was watching you, his brows furrowed and that unsettling calculative look on his face. Beneath his somewhat intimidating gaze, you focused on your bowl, opting for a bite of the curry.

Silence filled the kitchen. Loud and probing. The scrapes of your forks and the occasional sound of sauce stirring elapsed.

Dinner with Fox was easy and convivial. A time for him to unwind after a long day and for you to enjoy his company outside of the confines of work and the pressure of trying to gain his brothers’ approval. With Wolffe, dinner was tense and uncomfortable. Your thoughts kept returning to the night he interrupted; the fact that he had seen you left you feeling uneasy and unsettled.

You wished Fox were here—his steadying hand on your shoulder, the security of his presence.

The silence grew louder, more awkward.

After a moment, you snuck a peek. Wolffe was chewing slowly, thoughtfully. He swallowed and, in a move you would have missed if you weren’t looking at him, he nodded his approval. You stifled your small smile with a piece of the fluffy roll.

Minutes spent in silent contemplation of the food were soon eclipsed by a narrow-eyed Wolffe.

“My vod likes you,” he said.

You blinked. “I know.”

Wolffe’s gaze caressed your face in a way that left you feeling peeled apart and easily readable. An itch pricked the back of your neck and you shifted uncomfortably. He cocked his head to the side. “You’re not going to hurt him.”

It wasn’t a question, but you weren’t entirely certain if it was a threat or a simple statement.

“Fox has been through a lot,” Wolffe continued, and you realized it was a threat. “I don’t want to see him fucked over.”

At his audacity, a course of anger stiffened your spine.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Wolffe.” You held his gaze, refusing to balk from the wariness. “What I feel for Fox is none of your business, and you have no right to accuse me of wanting to hurt him.”

“I didn’t accuse—”

“I trust him, and he trusts me. That is all you need to know.”

Wolffe grimaced and he sat back in his chair, rubbing the nape of his neck. He stared at you, hesitation tensing along his body. In a soft voice, he asked, “Do you trust me?”

Bewildered by the question, you didn’t answer. The tension in his shoulders stiffened and he clenched his jaw.

“I don’t know you,” you answered truthfully.

His mouth opened but he paused. His gaze dropped to his plate and he was silent for almost a minute. Eyes returning to yours, he cleared his throat. “What if I wanted you to?”

To trust you? To know you? Or both?

“I don’t trust easily,” you murmured.

“I know.”

Wolffe held your gaze, unwavering and assessing, and then he pushed himself to his feet. Taking advantage of your stunned state at his sudden movement, he added your bowl to the piles of dishes he was carrying and wandered to the kitchen sink. The splash of water and the subsequent scrubbing noises revived you from your momentary lapse. But when you tried to take over the dish washing, Wolffe gave you a bland look and shouldered you away. At your huff of indignation, the corners of his lips lifted.

Dishes washed, Wolffe grabbed his helmet and made his way to the door. One foot in the hallway, one still in your apartment, he looked you over.

“Think about it,” he said.

For the first three months in which you met Fox, the commander was determined in his intent to know you. He went out of his way in your shared office building to greet you each morning and evening. A rap of his knuckles on your door when you were engrossed in work; a quick conversation if you weren’t too busy. The man was persistent and, overtime, he wore down your defenses.

A lunch he ordered into the office.

A walk in the evening back to your apartment with no intention otherwise.

An invite to drinks that you actually attended. And enjoyed.

A private dinner with lingering looks and shared smiles.

Months of intentional time together led to a kiss outside your apartment door. A few nights later you let him inside. The next night you showered together.

Mouths seeking sensitive spots on your bodies; hands gripping a heavy, hardened cock; fingers stroking a swollen, aching clit. Fox came first, as you intended, and, to your frustrated surprise, he became single-mindedly focused on providing you a similar release. So much intense focus concentrated solely on you.

An awkward conversation ensued but Fox was undeterred. It was the moment you realized you had possibly fucked up. Fox would not give up. It was terrifying, yet also reassuring.

Nights spent in your bed, hands on skin, different vibrators tested and used. Sheets entangled around your sweaty bodies as he sunk into the heat of your cunt, as he rocked his hips against yours, as he hit a depth that had your eyes rolling and fingers clinging to the headboard.

Fox was patient and understanding, and he was so fucking persistent. You didn’t understand why it mattered so much to him. His cock in your cunt—his mouth on your breasts and his hands bruising your hips—was enough. But soon you found his head between your legs, the tip of his tongue on your labia, the flattened length of his tongue against your clit.

Persistence, apparently, was an inherited trait.

Wolffe entered your life and refused to leave. Dinners with Fox became dinners with both men. Evenings at a museum or the theater or the local greenhouse, or even a visit to 79s, included Wolffe. To your immense irritation, you couldn’t fault the commander per your usually successful attempts to push a man away.

He was respectful of your private time with Fox, he was understanding of your space, and he was consistent and intentional in spending time with you.

The commander whom you knew preferred silence went out of his way to talk with you. Probing questions you couldn’t entirely avoid. Prolonged discussions when you accidentally let something slip. Moments when you revealed too much about yourself which led to private conversations between you and both men. Intimate conversations.

To your utter confusion, Fox didn’t seem to mind Wolffe. Rather, he encouraged Wolffe’s presence.

Even though the persistent presence of two men of such single-minded intensity would typically scare you away, things were different with Fox and Wolffe.

“Fox,” you chastised. A low sound hummed in the back of his throat and he pressed you harder against the wall of his office, rolling his hardened cock into your stomach. “It’s late. I should go.”

Late was a gross underestimation. It was midnight and he shouldn’t be working but you knew your Fox. Driven and determined, he completed his work on time. No matter the inappropriateness of the hour.

“Don’t want you to leave,” Fox murmured.

He kissed you slowly, deeply, and you sighed, giving in to him. His lips trailed beneath your jaw and you lifted your head, your eyelids fluttering.

“Then come home with me,” you said.

“I have work I need to finish—”

“I know, but you need a break—”

“I want to—”

The door to his office swished open.

It was like a replay of that night so many months ago, except this time you were fully clothed. And this time Wolffe didn’t turn around and apologize. Hesitating for a brief second, he strolled to Fox’s desk and sat on the edge. A tiny smirk curved his mouth.

“Do continue,” he drawled. “I don’t mind a show.”

Fox stopped thrusting his hips into your stomach but he didn’t move away. His eyes were hooded, a small smile on his face as his thumb stroked your cheek.

“You wanna go home?” he asked. With a reserved smile, you nodded. “Then let’s go home.”

Wolffe joined the both of you on your way to your apartment. His presence wasn’t abnormal. If anything, it was familiar.

So you didn’t question it when he followed you into your bedroom, and you didn’t question it when Fox held your face and kissed you while Wolffe kissed your neck, and you didn’t question it when Fox started unbuttoning your loose shirt while Wolffe stood at your back, his hands running along your skin as he held onto your waist. His lips tickled the top of your ear and he tightened his hold on you.

“Is this okay, mesh’la?” he asked.

A shiver slid down your spine at the hoarse rasp of his voice. Your gaze locked onto Fox’s and he gave you a reassuring smile, his fingers still working the buttons on your shirt.

The answer was reflexive. “Yes.”

Clothes fell; fingers traced the contours of two bodies honed by war; lips and tongues skimmed your neck, collarbone, nipples. So much heat and attention embraced you three—warm skin pressed against yours, a hand between your legs, hands on your ass, teeth scraping your throat, bite marks sucked into your thighs.

Skin sweaty beneath your palms; muscles flexing at the light touch of your fingers; heads thrown back and throats bobbing. So much touching and masculine groans of praise—a lick along stomachs, squeezes to muscular biceps, bites to necks that unleased their waning restraint.

You found yourself in your bed. Legs thrown over Fox’s shoulders. A hand in his hair, the other curled into Wolffe’s muscular thigh.

Warmth lazed through your mind, a fog of pleasure and comfort dotting your thoughts like cotton balls.

Fox sucked on your labia and you jerked. Shocks of pleasure arced along your legs, fluttered in your cunt. The intense heat of a mouth sucked on the swell of your breast. Tingles tightened your nipples, the sensation arousing. Sloppy and unhurried, Wolffe licked a slow circle around your nipple, his hand on your throat, his thumb stroking the side of your neck.

“Gods,” you moaned.

“No gods here,” Wolffe said. His darkened gaze met yours and he smirked, nipping at your nipple and tugging it. “Just me and Fox.”

Your hips flexed and Fox chuckled against your cunt, strong hands pinning you to your bed. From between your legs, he raised his head. A drunken expression softened his features and he grinned lazily at you.

“Will you pray to us, mesh’la?” Fox teased.

His thumbs opened your labia and, eyes still on yours, he dragged the wet head of his tongue through your sensitized core. Spasms of pleasure erupted across your body and you moaned, closing your eyes.

Your attention was divided between the painful throb between your legs and the heavy tightness in your breasts. Your blood simmered from such unwavering attention, from the half-naked men running their hands down your body, licking and tasting the most intimate parts of you.

Pressure built deep inside of you, a wicked heat coiling tighter and tighter. Your stomach clenched. Your cunt pulsated.

Wolffe tugged on your opposite nipple, his large hand enveloping your breast and squeezing. The hand on your neck locked beneath your jaw, his thumb still stroking softly.

Skin afire, you gripped his thigh harder.

It was so much stimulation. Hot, wet mouths were in too many places. Calloused hands were massaging your hips, squeezing your breast harder, stroking your jawline.

Every nerve in your body was pulled taut. You were on an edge, teetering somewhere between painful bliss and intoxicating release.

“How does she taste, Fox’ika?” Wolffe asked.

Curiosity and dark hunger laced the rasp in his voice as he stared between your legs. He palmed himself—the bulge of his cock straining against the confines of his boxer briefs—and the sight alone made it harder to breathe.

“Good,” Fox groaned. He gripped your thighs and spread them open farther, leaning back so Wolffe could see your swollen clit and labia, see the arousal glistening your skin. “Look at her, Wolf’ika.”

Your heart raced in your chest, your cunt clenching at the lust-addled gazes of the two men. Wolffe released his hold on your neck and circled two fingers around your cunt. Your breath hitched and your hips arched for him, silently begging him to fill you. Instead, he pulled back and, eyes on yours, he tasted his fingers.

Eyelids fluttering, a low rumble of approval reverberated in his chest and Wolffe leaned forward, kissing you. You pulled him closer, clung to him, lost yourself to the feel of his lips. His tongue teased yours and he cupped your jaw, angling your face for himself so he could deepen the kiss. The domination in the kiss—the unrestrained passion in Wolffe—stole your thoughts until you were panting, crying out into his mouth at a sharp jolt of pleasure.

Fox circled his tongue around your cunt and then flattened it to your clit. He mouthed on your swollen nerve, sucked on it fervently.

The heat inside of you coalesced, mounted as your stomach tightened. Wound up into something so viciously tight that your eyes closed, your body tensing into hard lines. Fox pressed a thumb to your clit and you froze.

Relief swept through you and the tension cracked. Like ice breaking, you shattered.

Waves of ecstasy flowed through your body and a honeyed stream of bliss settled into your muscles, trickled into your bones. Distantly, you were aware of yourself moaning into Wolffe’s mouth, aware of Fox lifting your hips and lapping at your cunt.

Time elapsed in a daze of stroking touches and indolent kisses.

Warms hands clung to your hips. Pliant lips moved against yours. Boneless legs trembled as you straddled Fox. The wetness between your legs slickened his cock, and the possessive look on his face heated your blood.

The tip of his cock stretched your cunt. Head tilted back, tendons strained in his neck and he moaned. A hand between your legs teased your aching clit.

Slow increments, rocking and grinding, the stretch of his cock filled you. The fullness was prominent and the depth familiar. Your breath stuttered as your hips met his; air hissed between his teeth as his cock throbbed. Ardent fondness softened his expression as he held your gaze, his adoration palpable.

The beat of his heart thumped beneath your palm; muscles bunched in his stomach; a whimper fell from his lips; the wet heat of his mouth enveloped your nipple; pleasure spiked hot and blinding deep inside you.

Calloused palms skimmed your back and a hard cock rubbed against your ass. Murmured praises interspersed slow, lazy kisses down your spine.

Desperate brown eyes held your gaze as fingers grasped the nape of your neck and held you close. Held you closer until low pants groaned against your neck. Heat emanated from the two bodies entrapping you, the hands on your back and the mouth on your shoulder, the lips to your spine and the fingers grazing your clit.

Pressure coiled, harsh and brilliant, and you cried out, falling into the hands you trusted above all else. Waves of pleasure rolled from the base of your spine and outwards, and you moaned into Fox’s shoulder, losing yourself to the moment.  

“Fuck,” Fox groaned, kissing your temple, brushing strands of hair from your face. A moment later and he was clinging to your hips, pounding up into you while he released himself. His chest heaved beneath yours and his hands shook slightly on your thighs, raspy praises fell from his lips.

Time, once again, elapsed, and, satiated and limp, you curled into Fox’s chest. A moment of reprieve, you basked in the two men surrounding you, the warmth of their skin, the gentle strokes of hands down your thighs.

From behind you, Wolffe started to chuckle, his hand stroking slow circles along your thigh. His own cock throbbed against your ass. “That was fast, huh, Fox’ika?”

The taunt earned a hard glare from Fox and, deciding it was a question of your loyalty, you pulled away from him. Whatever he saw in your face must have alerted him to your intention for he gave you a mischievous wink. Without preamble, you reached behind, slipped your hand into Wolffe’s boxer briefs, and squeezed his cock. Hard.

“Fuck!” Wolffe jerked, his fingers tightening around your thigh.

Grinning at a now amused Fox, you gripped Wolffe tighter, roughly working your palm along his length. He was thick, like Fox, and he sat heavy in your palm, hardened beneath silky skin.

“Mesh’la—” Wolffe warned.

His pants were hoarse, strained against your ear and you gently pinched the head of his cock, twisting it in your palm. Wolffe groaned low, agonized, and he gripped your thigh harder. Another squeeze and twist of your palm and then he was moaning, hips jerking erratically while hot, thick ropes of cum streamed between your fingers.

“That was fast, huh?” you teased.

Still panting, Wolffe rested his forehead into the crook of your neck. “Fuck.”

Chuckling, Fox guided your hand to his boxer briefs, encouraging your fingers to stroke his cock.

“My turn,” he murmured.

Squeezing his cock, you smiled. “I want you inside me.”

“Whatever—fuck—whatever you want, my mesh’la,” he groaned. With a soft kiss to your mouth, he pushed himself up. “Take a pill, Wolf’ika. We have work to do.”

Laughter burst forth from your chest and you watched Wolffe punch Fox. The latter threw a smarmy grin at his brother and then shucked off his boxer briefs, hauling you toward him. He gave you a fond smile, something small and only for you, and you smiled back, lowering yourself to your elbows as he skimmed a hand down your spine.

“Bet I can make her come faster,” Fox taunted.

Wolffe rolled his eyes, stroking his already hardening cock. He met your gaze and a darkly amused smirk spread across his face. He pressed a button on his chrono. “Doubt it.”

1 Year Later

“Good morning, my mesh’la,” Wolffe rasped.

The grumble of his voice so early in the morning made your toes curl. You smiled, clinging to the arm thrown over your body. Warm lips pressed against your throat and your eyes closed. An indolent swipe of his tongue caressed your collarbone, the thickness of his tongue pressing against your skin as he kissed your collarbone more fully.

Warmth eased down your spine and you sighed. Wolffe in the morning was so carefree. Alert yet attentive. His chest nestled against your back, a large hand caressing your lower stomach before skimming your ribs to grip your breast. The coarseness of his palm hardened your nipple and you breathed a quiet moan. Wolffe chuckled, the sound low and hoarse, as he trailed his lips beneath your jaw.

“You are so easy to please in the morning,” he murmured, smiling against your neck. His other hand entangled in your hair and he angled your head back, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “May I fuck you, mesh’la?”

Your eyelids fluttered open and you reached a hand behind, resting it on the muscular thigh entrapping you in his embrace. Across from you, curled on his side, slept Fox. Deep asleep, his features were relaxed. Unworried and at peace. Shafts of sunlight danced through his hair and the silver curls at his temples winked. You would have to be quiet, for him.

“You have to be slow,” you said quietly.

“I know.” Wolffe squeezed your breast, massaging it while he sucked on your throat. A low hum of pleasure sounded in his chest. “You know I know that.”

His thigh moved between your legs and he leaned forward, forcing your upper body to curve. The blunted head of his cock pressed against your cunt and he pushed forward. Fingers curling into the sheets, you gritted your teeth to muffle your gasp. The coolness of the lube allowed him easier access, allowed him to push inside of you without restraint. Still, the girth of his cock—the pressure in the morning—was so much. Too much.

“Wolffe,” you whispered.

“ ‘M sorry.”

He stilled, barely inside, and skimmed his lips along your shoulder. The thumb on your breast slowly circled your nipple. Wet kisses tickled your neck as he worked his way up your throat to your mouth. A teasing swipe of your tongue against his had him groaning into your mouth and his hips jerked.

A breathy moan escaped and you raised your arm behind your head, reaching for his hair. He thrust again, his cock easing in further, and you panted for air. Soft lips found the sensitive spot behind your ear and Wolffe nipped at your earlobe.

“How are you doing, mesh’la?”

He thrusted forward and this time his hand abandoned your breast, sliding between your legs to stroke your clit. White-hot pleasure spiked in your belly and your clit throbbed.

“Good,” you whispered.

Wolffe took the single word as invitation and pushed in until his hips rested snuggly against your ass. Your cunt fluttered around him—around the splitting fullness. You bit your pillow, trying to quiet your whimpers. Fox rustled but his eyes remained closed. Based on the low groan coming from the man behind you, the sound pained and starved, you wouldn’t have to worry about yourself waking Fox.

Pace slow, Wolffe skimmed his hand along your stomach, tracing light, leisure circles on the swells of your breasts, the sensitive areas on your ribs, grazing your clit every few minutes to arouse the aching nerve. The sound of his cock slipping in and out of your cunt—your arousal slickening him as you matched his rhythm—joined your stifled moans.

He sucked on your neck, hoarse groans vibrating your skin. Teeth scraped possessive marks, one hand stroked your clit again and you jerked at such a sensually light touch; the other hand massaged your scalp, gently tugging on your hair until your eyes were rolling in the back of your head.

Biting your pillow harder, you whimpered. The sound snapped something in Wolffe and he pushed you onto your stomach, flattening his chest to your back. His next thrust was harder, rougher. Your cunt convulsed around him and he hissed.

So much for not waking Fox.

“Fuck—” Wolffe panted in your ear, the noise so fucking pained and desperate. “C-Can’t get enough of you, mesh’la—”

Harsh groans filled your ear as Wolffe slammed into you. Faster. Harder.

He was unrestrained. Hands bruising your hips. Tongue licking your neck. His groans whimpering.

“Ah, fuck.”

He rammed into you harder, fucking slammed his cock deep inside of you. Over and over until you were gasping and moaning for more. Your muscles grew taut, your stomach coiled tight, heat licked at the base of your spine.

“Can’t stop—” Wolffe moaned louder and his fingers tightened in your hair. “Sorry—”

The sound of his moans, the utter desperation in his thrusts overwhelmed your senses. Your muscles bunched, your cunt clamped around his cock, and you cried into your pillow, back arching as a volatile heat snaked up your spine. Jerky thrusts from behind and Wolffe’s slurred praises in your ear plummeted you into a moment of pure, euphoric release.

A pained groan fell from his chest and Wolffe slammed into you a final time, his cock throbbing as he came. His thrusts slowed and he buried himself in your cunt, stilling above you.

Limp and slightly dazed, you were aware of his weight crushing your body. Aware of his heavy breaths warming your ear, of his cock still inside you, of the cum trickling between your legs and making a mess of the bedsheets.

With a deep sigh, Wolffe eased his cock from your cunt and rolled onto his side. Sharing in a satiated smile with the man whose hair was properly tussled, you turned your head to the other man in the bed.

Rich brown eyes blinked sleepily at you and a thumb stroked your cheek. Fox grinned, lowering his face to yours, giving you a long, slow kiss. You angled your head for him, sighing into his mouth. His hands urged you forward and you found yourself lying atop him, his arms a protective barrier around you.

“Morning, my mesh’la.” His voice was hoarse and his words slurred while his hands squeezed your thighs.

“Morning, love,” you said quietly, kissing the tender spot beneath his jaw.

A quiet groan escaped his mouth and his chin tilted to the ceiling, his eyes closing. His hands stroked your spine, fingers playing with a few strands of your hair. He leaned back against the headboard, his smile content, the streams of sunlight highlighting the wearied lines on his face and the circles beneath his eyes.

Early morning Fox was always so soft, his touches unrushed and lackadaisical as he started to wake. Unlike Wolffe, who was immediately alert the moment he woke, Fox needed time. In half an hour, though, and with Wolffe already making a mess of the bed, he would take a long time with you. Partially because he liked watching you unwind beneath him, and partially because he liked to spite Wolffe by keeping you to himself.

Beside you both, Wolffe lounged on the bed, the sunlight dancing along the dark planes of his naked body. A relaxed smile curved his face and he watched you through half-lidded eyes, his fingers playing with yours.

A year together had taught you one important thing: You could trust these men.

And if you had accidentally discovered a simple, silver ring hidden in Fox’s socks, and a matching band in Wolffe’s trousers’ pocket…

Well, you could trust them both with that, too.

[madameminor]

Fox Fire - Commander Fox x f!reader - Chapter 1

Summary: In an effort to forget your on-again-off-again, you head out with your friends - and they're determined for you to meet one Commander Fox. After all, the quickest way to get over someone is to get under someone else.

Commander Fox x f!reader

Tags: Smutty mcsmutterson. 18+. NSFW. "Basically, all the good stuff."

Warnings: Nothing this round. Just build up.

Notes: Ok hi! Dunno why I wanted to do this, but I did. I'm excited for the story. Post-war, everyone's ok, that sort of thing. Thank you so much to @dumfanting and @rains-on-kamino for beta-ing and keeping my creative juices flowing. I've tagged all the people on my IMWTO list, JIC you're interested in following this story too. If you are, comment. If you don't, I'll remove you for next chapter. Thank yoooou. Let's get this party started!

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You have to hand it to Chrisa. If her significant other didn’t work here, you would never have thought of coming to the Clone Bar for your night out - but it is PERFECT for what you need.

All the clones made it easy to clock strangers.

The entire vibe of the place is all about coming in and forgetting the world outside.

None of your or Marco’s mutuals would EVER just happen to be here.

AND

You have a bartender on your side, so if anyone gets too handsy or in your face - insta-boot.

The anger from earlier has simmered into resolve, and any excess is going to be worked out on the dance floor. You’d had enough to drink before coming out to loosen you up, but not to spiral you down. You. Look. FAN-TASTIC. Nothing pumps you up like looking your absolute best - and knowing it.

Damn right. It was time to have some fucking fun.

Your gaggle stride up to the front doors, Chrisa flashing the front doorman a smile and a kiss on the cheek before sliding on in. The thick togruta grins as he waves you all in, the lively music thrumming up through your shoes. OOooooo YES! Here we GO!

Lights, bass, people, ALL of it. You’ve missed it. Your spirits lift at the beautiful sight of fun.

Chrisa leads you past the first few bars, piled up with people, making her way towards a third bar closer to the back. You all follow, chatting away excitedly and looking out over the writhing sea of people. Your smile is genuine. You missed this. You missed them. 

“Baaaaaabyyyyy!” your friend croons, leaning over the somewhat busy bar to kiss the bartender. The rest of you sidle up to the 3 empty seats between two groups of clones, offering your hellos.

“Well, look at this attractive group coming up to my bar,” the bartender, Ceese, says with a grin. Their eyes land on you. “Heard we’re celebrating tonight,” they say with a wink. “So let’s get you all started off on the right foot.”

Your girls cheer and you grin as Ceese sets out 6 double shots, filling them to the brim with your favorite alcohol. You laugh as each of your friends and Ceese all take a shot glass, gathering in close around you. 

“To taking out ta poodoo!” Lehla toasts, holding out her shot.

“KRIFF TA POODOO!” Five clinks as you all cheers and down your shots. The liquid comfort slithers through your body, and you breathe a bit easier. THIS is fun. You’re safe here. You slink your arms around Freen and Sizie and hug them close. They smile and hold you tight while Ceese pours out your drinks.

“There you are, drinks are up, get out there!”

You all cheer and grab your drinks, Chrisa leaning up to kiss them thanks for all of you as your crew saunters off to the dance floor. 

Lehla dives right into the center, turning to all of you, and, holding up her drink, proclaims with the gravity of a general headed into battle “Behbies, lets DANCE!!”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pulsing, beating, swaying, living. You laugh and twirl and thoroughly lose yourself in the pleasure of being out with your friends. This was amazing. This was life as it ought to be. 

Only exhaustion and the need for another drink eventually pulls you off the floor, plunking you and your friends down into an open booth.

“More drinks, more drinks!” Sizie chants.

“Oh gods I can’t MOVE,” Freen whines as she leans back. She makes begging eyes at Lehla. Well, the Rodian equivalent. “Lehlaaaaa…”

Lehla good naturedly rolls her eyes. “ALright, alright. Chrisa, that's you and me. Lets go get the goods.” 

Chrisa laughs and loops arms with hers, the two heading back to the bar.

You fan yourself, glancing over your two friends as they gab away with each other, taking a second to get your bearings. The anger is burning off now, leaving just the sadness, the hurt… but its nice to remember everything you gain by… well, by things changing. Change is good. You take a deep breath, letting the comfort settle back in.

“Why do they keep looking over here?” Sizie’s voice cuts through, curious.

You look over towards the bar and see Chrisa and Lehla chatting with Ceese and a few troopers - commanders by their pauldrons. Of course Chrisa knew the regulars, probably catching up. And, uh, they all keep looking over. At you. Specifically at you.

Uh oh. “Oh Mother, what are they up to…”

Freen laughs. “Knowing them, something AMAZING.”

Chrisa and Lehla hurry over, both with a mysterious glint in their eye. Chrisa plops down next to you while Lehla leans in with a smirk, hand on the table.

“Soooooo,” Chris says with a sly grin, “do you think that clones are attractive?”

You side-eye her suspiciously. “Why?”

“Weeeeell,” Chrisa tilts her head to the side, letting you see past her, “one of my ‘friends’ over there happens to be Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard.”

Your stomach tightens with regret.

You sigh, your forehead in your hand. “Chris, you know I don’t-”

She waves her hand at you. “-get on with law enforcement, I know I know. BUT,” she grins, holding a finger up to halt interruptions, “that’s long term. Fox is usually super busy, so he doesn’t really have much time for women in his life. Like, EVER.” She smirks with a small eye roll. “His team almost has to blackmail him to go out with them and relax - and that almost NEVER involves a woman. But that doesn't mean he hasn’t had off-ers,” she says in a sing-song voice. The others giggle as they glance off towards where the Commander sits.

Chris continues. “SO. It wouldn’t be for long- a fling, a jaunt, a roll in the hay, something cas-u-al-and-FUN!” She emphasizes each syllable to get her point across. “You need this. Something different to show you that you can actually be HAPPY in bed, with someone who actually CARES.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “How the heck do you know he ‘cares’?”

She grins again. “I’ve known him for a loooong time. And on the rare occasion that he’s drunk enough to loosen up and actually go home with someone, they ALWAYS come in again talking about how GOOD he is.”

You blink in surprise, and a little shock. “People talk about that?

She shrugs good-naturedly. “Bunker bunnies do. No judgement, they just like to try ‘all the clone flavors’.” She winks. “And I love to hear the gos about the regulars.”

You smirk as the others laugh. Trust Chrisa to be the bar gossip gatherer.

“So, what, you want me to hope he gets drunk, present myself to him and say ‘hi, my ex is an ass and I broke up with him today. Wanna fuck?’”

“Oh NO,” Chrisa pulls a face, “I wouldn’t suggest it if it was that impersonal. See, apparently…” she leans her cheek on one hand, grin glistening with mischief. “He’s been looking over at you all night.”

You blink. You try to sneak a look over to the bar to try and catch a glimpse of this Commander Fox. Two of the red and white clad clones start waving and pointing excitedly between them at the seated one beside them, facing away with what looks like his forehead in his hand. You’re sad you can’t see his face, but you can’t help but smile to yourself. You kind of know how he feels.

“And he’s… cute?” You say hesitantly.

Chrisa perks up and grins. “Oh YEAH. I’ve definitely glanced at him a time or two, don’t tell Ceese.”

“And… safe?” 

“YES,” Chris almost huffs a whine in exasperation. “Who do you think I am??”

Well…

It’s not what you normally do…

…but you ARE trying to do things differently this time…

Just one conversation? You didn’t even have to say yes…

He could be cute…

You look around at your friends' faces. Are any of them unsure about this? Would any advise you that this wasn’t a good idea?

Nope. All of their eyes are excited, almost pleading.

“...ok. I’ll at least talk to him.”

You friends all burst out with a “YES!” You smirk and shake your head. Jeez, you didn’t think you needed it THAT bad.

Chrisa stands and gives a thumbs up to the two clones waiting at the bar. They both pump fists in the air before leaning down to talk to the hunched Commander- who simply punches one of them in the arm without looking over at him. You laugh to yourself. Yeah, you definitely know THAT feeling. The poor guy.

Whatever they say to him, it apparently seems to work. He begrudgingly turns around on his stool and stands, grabbing his helmet. One of his men claps him on the shoulder, which he pushes off angrily before taking a deep breath, turning, and starting his way over to where you and your friends sit. 

You feel your breath catch a bit in your chest, something your girls notice with a smirk. He’s GORGEOUS. His hair isn’t standard clone cut - its a bit longer on top and down the back, the sides cropped short. You can see whisps of gray at the side of his temples, almost looking like highlights, making him seem more mature. He has a scar across one cheekbone adding to an authoritative air - but not oppressive or dismissive. His eyes are a beautiful amber brown, serious, but not cynical. And, you notice with a small smile, right now he looks just a little bit… sheepish. 

A man like this has been watching you? A trooper who doesn’t normally take girls home had seen you and not been able to disguise it from his overeager companions? You feel yourself preen internally as he finishes making his way over. 

“Commander Fox, meet the rest of my besties - Freen (she waves), Sizie (a nod and smile), and of course, The-woman-you’ve-been-staring-at-all-night.”

He glances at her with annoyance as your friends laugh. You extend a hand out to shake his hand with your introduction.

“Its… very nice to meet you.” He nods, resigning to the awkwardness of being caught.

“Well, we’ll get out of your hair so you two can get acquainted,” Chrisa simpers. You give her a ‘stop that’ look as she and the girls all file out with winks and excited grins. Sizie even seems to shake little pom poms, mouthing “go, girl, go!”

You play a bit with one earring as you look back at him.

“Sorry about them,” you smile. “Teasing is their love language.”

He snorts with a glance back at them, relaxing a bit. “I know the feeling.”

You chuckle despite yourself. He seems to relax a bit, a smirk playing on his authoritative features.

“Would you care to step into my office, Mr. Fox?” 

He chuckles this time, giving you a quick appreciative glance before sitting down across from you, placing his helmet by his side.

“Excuse me.” A service droid waddles up with two drinks - one your usual, the other looks like a whisky neat for him. You look at it, confused, while it sets them on the table.

“Compliments of the bartender, with the accompanying message-” says the matter of fact tinny voice. “‘-Make out already-’.”  You look up to the crowd of onlookers from the bar giving you both a thumbs up. 

You show them a different finger. 

They all burst out laughing, but get the hint and go back to each other.

You turn back, catching an impressed smirk while he gazes at you.

“You sure showed them.”

 You chuckle while you take a sip of your drink.

“So,” you smile, “come here often?”

He snorts an appreciative chuckle before shaking his head and indicating the two Corries at the bar. “Enough. Though not as much as my men would like.”

You chuckle, glancing over at the excited huddle. “I didn’t know the men of the Coruscant guard were so invested in their Commander’s R&R.”

A sigh and an eye roll, another sip of his drink. “Apparently getting away from work is ‘necessary’ for a healthy, ungrumpy lifestyle.” You nod sagely, indicating you see the sarcasm. “Just my luck to have the subordinates that actually care about my work-life balance.”

“Luck seldom has anything to do with things like that,” you smile, leaning your cheek on your hand. You know what garners unerring loyalty and hard work. You know the kind of leader it takes to make men march into danger- just to drag that S.O. to the bar afterwards - the kind who men take care of, because he took care of his men. “You must be a great commander if they worry about you so much.” And smart, and firm, but kind under it all, and… hoo, slow down honey. 

For some reason, looking at him, knowing what it takes to be a leader, to be someone who watches out for others, you feel compelled to say something you’ve never said before.

“Thank you. For your service.”

His head quirks to the side, eyes interested as they take you in. “I can’t really take much credit for that… it wasn’t entirely my choice, you know.”

You chuckle. “Perhaps not. But I’ve heard of clones who have sought other lives now that the war is over and your rights have been won - can’t blame them at all. I understand not wanting to do what you’re ‘born for’.” You unconsciously watch the bubbles in your drink for a moment before realizing your thoughts are straying, looking back into his intrigued eyes. “So you did have a choice. And you chose to help the people of Coruscant.” You smile, and shrug.  “So, for whatever it's worth, thank you.”

“Hm.” He smiles thoughtfully, regarding you for a moment while he takes a sip of his drink. “Actually, coming from you, it means a lot more,” his eyes take you in again, admiring, intrigued, inviting.

It sends a happy warmth through your insides.

He sets his drink down again, folding his arms and leaning in on his elbows. “So. Born for, huh? Tell me, what were you ‘born for’?”

You smirk, waving a hand in dismissal. Definitely a cop. “Nothing that I’m doing. But I’m an event planner.” You shrug, knowing it doesn’t sound like much to someone who regularly risks their life.

“Hm,” he answers, intrigued. Like actually intrigued. “Can’t say I’ve ever met someone in that field before. What’s your favorite part of the job?”

Hm. You can’t help your smile. No one ever really cares to hear about this part. “Well,” you think, having a genuine look at your chosen profession, “I meet a fair amount of different, interesting people. I'm more active and involved than other jobs, I get to create something, after a fashion, get to create beauty and harmony for people to celebrate or commemorate something.” And you do it well, you know you do. You’re proud of the work you do. “Its satisfying. Like I’m doing good in my own way.”

He smiles at that. 

“‘Interesting people’, huh? Have any good stories?”

“Hah,” you chuckle. “Oh do I.” You perk up, leaning in conspiratorially. “And in your line of work, you probably know some of the main antagonists.” 

His eyes definitely light up with interest. 

Pulling no punches, you dive into tales about Senators, big wigs, their staff, their relatives, the drama before, during, and after. His laughter is all the more hearty knowing who you're talking about. He even thanks you once for making him laugh so hard he cries about a particular Senator from Naboo and a Jedi getting told off for inappropriate use of an ice sculpture.

Knowing you know the main players, he pays you back 10 fold with his own stories- ridiculous requests, entitled children put in their place, the shenanigans his men pull when they think he isn't aware. You swap stories back and forth, relaxing in each others company, unwittingly moving closer together.

He’s nice, you keep thinking. He’s cute. He’s serious, but can laugh. You wonder… what he’s like when he’s alone, in the dark, laying in his own bed...

You only realize how long its been when you take a sip of your drink only to find the cold, watery dregs of melted ice. As you glance into your glass, with a small curse, you hear him say quietly, almost like he’s talking to himself:

“How anyone could do something stupid enough to lose a woman like you is beyond me.” He says quietly, almost to himself. You duck your head, a bit bashful, but keep your eyes up. So he’s feeling it too. He still wants you. He… he likes you. 

Maybe its knowing that, or maybe its the drinks. Or both. But suddenly you feel… sexier.

You look up at him through your eye lashes. 

“Is it alright if I… get more comfortable?”

His eyes spark with excitement and intrigue. “Of course,” he says quietly.

You close the small distance and slide into his lap, your back to the (you are totally sure) excited onlookers. 

You feel your heart pounding at the closeness, skin electric at your own daring.

“Is this alright?”

“Yes.” His voice is much deeper than it was. “More than alright.”

“Good,” you smile, one hand tracing behind his neck, lightly trailing through his curls. He gently places his hand on your leg, his coarse gloves ticking along your thigh, bewitched eyes starting to turn ravenous. 

‘You are absolutely stunning,” he breathes, voice low and serious.

You smile bashfully. “Thank you, its true.”

He lifts his hand and cups your neck, thumb tracing the length of your throat.

“I definitely, definitely want to kiss you right now.”

You place a finger against his lips. He smirks, slowly opening his mouth to lightly bite your fingertip. You breath catches at the small, sensual gesture. His eyes darken at the sound, his teeth releasing you.

“Kriff, mesh’la. I’m going to take such good care of you tonight.”

He kisses you. 

It's like a fire has started in your blood, burning away anything that isn’t this moment right here. You want him. You want him so badly, with his locks between your fingers and his teeth on your throat and his cock in your-

And you can. Because there is absolutely nothing holding you back.

You pull away just enough that your words ghost against his lips. “Do you want to get out of here… Commander?

His kiss is more insistent this time, ending with a small bite pulling your lower lip.

“More than anything.”

You slide off of him before taking him by the hand. He barely looks away from you as he grabs his helmet and dutifully follows you out of the club.

----------------------------------------------------

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[somedaylazysomeday]

Tied Up in You - Part Three

When edging doesn't work out for you, Fox decides to test your limits in a different way.

Commander Fox x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 5,800

Warnings: Dom/sub elements, attempted edging, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, accidental orgasm, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, elements of forced orgasms (but not really), safeword discussion and use, unprotected sex, creampie.

Previous | Masterlist

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“Come on, pretty girl.”

Fox’s low voice, velvety with the rough edge of his arousal, made you thrash your head back and forth. “I th-thought that’s what you di- ah! - didn’t want me to do?” 

“Just because I don’t want you going over the edge doesn’t mean I don’t want you on the cliff,” he told you. You couldn’t see his face, but you could hear the smile in his tone. It made you want to simultaneously smack him and kiss him.

Your relationship with Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard was easily the best part of your life at that particular moment. Actually, you couldn’t remember anything better in your past and you couldn’t picture anything better for your future. Fox was everything to you, and he was very clear that you were everything to him. 

Even when he was relentlessly tormenting you.

At that particular moment, Fox had buried his face between your legs. He was teasing you with his mouth, pushing you closer and closer to orgasm without allowing the pleasure to overtake you. Normally, your relationship was all about chasing pleasure with every bit of energy either of you could muster, so this turn of events was deliciously frustrating. 

“Be my good girl and tell me when you get close,” Fox pulled away to say. It wasn’t the first time he had said it, and every time seemed to coincide with a time when your body was starting to lock down to come. “Don’t come until I say so.” 

“I’m close right now, Fox!” you wailed. 

A sharp sensation in your inner thigh made you gasp and you looked down to find Fox in the middle of delivering a bite there. When he had finished, he moved enough to warn, “Watch that tone. Don’t forget that I’m in charge of deciding when you come.”

“Maybe you’re depriving me,” you countered, cutting yourself off with a sharp gasp as he started tormenting you with lips and tongue once more. 

“Fine,” Fox said, and you could almost cry at how cold and empty you felt as he sat back on his heels. “You want to come so badly? Beg.” 

“Fox,” you complained. 

“C’mon, princess,” he urged. “Beg for me. Tell me what you want me to do and how, and I’ll have you screaming my name just as soon as you want. But you’re going to have to beg first.” 

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. Fox gave you a dark smile and heat rose in your face and chest. You were comfortable with Fox - clearly - but begging had never been part of your skill set. Something about the humiliation of it, the desperation… you couldn’t figure out whether you loved the idea or hated it, but you’d never managed to work up enough nerve to find out for yourself. Not when you weren’t being overly-dramatic or doing it as a joke.

Fox used his fingers to keep you on-edge as you tried to work up the courage to plead with him. “Don’t come without permission or I’ll come up with a punishment for you.”

Despite the warning, you could feel the way your body started to tighten. “Fox, I-”

His hand pulled away a millisecond before your thighs snapped together. You and Fox stared at each other in wide-eyed shock even as the muscles of your core spasmed and squeezed. You had come without his permission. And worse, you hadn’t even been able to enjoy it!

“What did I tell you to do?” 

The urge to be sarcastic was strong in the face of Fox’s deadpan question, but you bit it back. He looked stern and foreboding - a combination that had proven to be lethal to your self-control in the past. 

So you ducked your head. “I’m sorry, Fox.” 

“Did I ask for an apology?” He shook his head before you could answer the question. “What did I tell you to do?” 

“You told me not to come.” 

“That’s right,” he agreed with a nod. “And what did you do?” 

“I came,” you muttered, face burning again. 

“Yes you did.” Fox seemed thoughtful, which was potentially a worse development for you. “The question now is: what should I do about that?” 

Your breath caught and Fox gave you a sharp look. It hadn’t been an unhappy noise, and you hoped he knew that. But subtlety didn’t seem worth the risk. “You said you were going to punish me.” 

Fox sat back further, sitting on the bed so he could watch you from a more comfortable position. His expression was still one of consideration, like he was trying to figure out just how far you wanted to push this particular game. He was hesitant, you could see it in every muscle of his body. He wanted to go as far as you did, but never to cross the line. 

Eventually, he leaned forward, studying you intently. “What do you think should happen?” 

Ah, yes, leaving the decision up to you. Perfect. 

With a great deal of effort, you kept your smirk internal and offered him a look of wide-eyed guilt and scarcely disguised interest. “I think I’ll never learn to obey you if you threaten to punish me and don’t follow through. Sir.” 

Fox looked softly entertained at that, especially at the title you’d hastily tacked on at the end. But he managed to keep a straight face, with only the warmth in his eyes betraying his amusement. He nodded gravely. “If your future behavior is at stake, I don’t believe we have a choice.”

“If you think that’s best,” you agreed, biting the inside of your lip to fight the smile trying to emerge. 

And then Fox was utterly serious once more. “Okay, sweetheart. What are your hard limits for this?” 

“Same as always,” you told him. It may have sounded like a rote assurance to anyone else, but Fox gave a firm nod. He knew your limits backward and forward, but he liked to check that nothing had changed, especially if a situation was new or different. 

“And can you tell me the safeword?” 

You couldn’t help but smile, the way you always did when asked about the safeword you and Fox had come up with: “Palpatine.” 

He shook his head in fond exasperation, rolling his eyes slightly at the reminder. “Yes. Give me a minute to set up. If you need to grab a drink or use the refresher, now would be the time.”

That was a new warning, and you decided to do both of those things before you got started. When you got back, Fox had retrieved your bottle of lube, set a collection of toys on the bedside table, and was holding his binders. 

“What did you decide on?” you asked, crossing to the bed. 

Fox turned and your spine reflexively straightened. His posture was straight and his jaw was firm - clear signs that he had switched into dom mode. “You haven’t behaved well enough to ask questions. You aren’t entitled to the answers. Now, get on the bed and make yourself comfortable. You’re gonna be there a while.” 

You complied, your body already tightening with interest. It was unusual for you to be ready so soon after an orgasm, but there was something about the way Fox bossed you around…

“Yes, Commander,” you murmured as you slipped past him. Fox’s hand stroked over the curve of your hip as you went, and the feeling of that touch buzzed through you. 

This was going to be good. 

As soon as you were comfortably on the bed, Fox nodded at you. “Arms out.” 

You put your hands out toward him and Fox attached the now-familiar set of binders on your wrists. They had seen a lot of activity between you and Fox, but the sight of the dull, utilitarian material wrapped around your limbs still made you shiver with anticipation. 

Fox pulled your bound hands upward, pressing a single button to magnetize them to the headboard. His motions were brusque and businesslike, but his eyes burned at you every time he caught your gaze. 

He didn’t seem able to resist the last time, and ducked down for a long, searching kiss. You hadn’t even noticed the way you were leaning forward to accept and return that kiss until Fox’s fingers parted your folds. You gasped at the touch, still sensitive from your earlier activities, leaning back and back and back until you were finally sitting against the headboard. 

Fox was undeterred, his fingers toying with you. They weren’t entering you, not yet, but they stroked your folds and brushed over your clit. He took long breaks to run his hands over the smooth skin of your inner thighs, and you eagerly spread your legs wider for him. 

When he finally decided to touch your core, his motions were slow at first. He dipped a fingertip into you and pulled back out immediately, studying the way your body had left a prominent shine on his skin. He licked his finger clean and you moaned for him. Fox’s eyes glimmered wickedly at you, then he was pressing two fingers deep inside of you. 

Your breath caught audibly at the intrusion of it. Fox’s fingers were broad and he didn’t seem worried about the fact that they were spread slightly as they pressed into you. If you hadn’t already had one orgasm, the sensation probably would have been painful rather than just intensely pleasurable. But from the knowing look on Fox’s face as he pumped those spread fingers in and out of your body, he had already taken that into account. 

All of a sudden, your hands jolted. With the binders locking you to the bedframe, the motion was ineffective but loud. Fox’s eyes pulled upward to your face. Dimly, you recognized that they had been focused between your legs for the past few minutes. 

“Fox- Sir,” you hastily corrected. “I’m close.” 

The hint of tension dissolved from Fox’s expression and he started pumping his fingers once more. “Good. This is your punishment, sweetheart. If you want to come so badly, I’ll make sure you have the chance to. After all, I wouldn’t want you to feel like you’re being deprived.”

The wicked drawl in his last sentence - clearly mocking what you had said earlier - made you burn. Whether that burn was lust or irritation or your impending orgasm, you couldn’t tell for sure. You were tempted to lean toward that last explanation, though, since your body tightened further and further until it snapped, releasing that tension in a flood of endorphins and bright colors bursting behind your closed eyelids. 

Fox worked you through all of it, milking every bit of pleasure from your system until you were squirming. “What do you say after someone gives you something you’ve asked for?” 

When you turned to look at him, your head lulled to the side in a lazy sweep. You grinned at him. “Thank you, Commander.” 

He gave an unimpressed little grunt. “If you’re gonna act like a brat, I’d better not give you any time to recover.” 

“Recover?” you asked, but Fox was already pushing himself down on the bed, forcing your thighs wide around the broad sweep of his shoulders. 

“Recover,” he repeated, a sweet darkness in his tone as his head lowered toward the junction of your thighs. 

In a smooth motion, Fox spread you wide for himself, holding your folds apart to make room for his lips and tongue. You had thought his actions had been intense before, but they had been nothing compared to what he was doing now. You could scarcely feel each touch as an individual sensation, let alone process any of it. The result was pleasure that managed to be overwhelmingly strong and breathtakingly intense.

Fox had teased pleasure from you before. He had coaxed it from your body, stoked it like a fire. He had played your nerve endings like a melodium and, at times, he had withheld pleasure to keep you desperately balanced on the edge for an eternity. 

But this was different from anything you’d ever shared. It felt like he was pushing the pleasure at you, forcing you to take everything he gave you… and he was giving you everything. 

Your toes were curling, your legs wrapping around as much of Fox’s torso as you could manage without fear of suffocating him. Your head thrashed back and forth, hands straining uselessly in the cold grip of the binders. “Fox, I- ah! That’s… ohhhh…”

The flat of Fox’s tongue worked expertly against your clit, pressing and ribbing, letting you revel in the rough slickness of the muscle against you. At the same time, he sank a finger deep into your core, moving unerringly to that place against the front of your channel that made you fall apart for him every time. 

You arced up off the bed, for all the world like he had electrocuted you rather than press against a hidden collection of nerves deep in your body. “Fox!” 

It was half a scream and you worried that Fox was going to stop. You stared down at him with wild eyes only to find him looking back at you. While your gazes were linked, he closed one eye in a slow, deliberate wink. 

Your head tipped back, connecting solidly with the headboard as your breath whooshed out in a sharp exhale. That was followed by an equally sharp inhale and then you were gone. Your body danced and shook under Fox’s careful attention, squeezing and working his fingers like it could trap him there forever. 

At last, the rough slide of his tongue against you seemed like more of a punishment than a mercy and you groaned. Fox stopped immediately, patting your thigh and sitting back, careful not to jostle you. 

“Something you want to say?” he prodded. 

Your head lolled to one side, resting on your own bicep as you flexed your fingers in the binders. “Thank you, Commander.” 

“You did beautifully for me, pretty girl,” Fox congratulated lowly. Just that little bit of praise made you warm for him. “You were so sensitive and you let me hear you. For that, I’m going to let you have a minute to settle before we go again.” 

“We aren’t done?” you asked, bewildered. That speech had certainly sounded like the end of your punishment rather than the middle of it. Or worse, the beginning. 

Fox laughed. “You’ve come twice. Are you saying that was enough for you?” 

“It was three times,” you countered stubbornly. 

He tilted his head at you. “If you can’t handle any more, use your safe word.” 

It was hard not to pout at him, but you knew what would happen if you did. And since you were already in the middle of one punishment, you really didn’t think it was wise to start on another. You bit your lip, looking studiously at your own knee. 

“That’s what I thought,” Fox said, clearly satisfied with himself. “Take a minute. Do you need a drink?” 

All of that panting and moaning had left you feeling distinctly parched, so you nodded. Fox was unmoved. “Let me hear that voice. I asked, do you need a drink?” 

“Yes, sir,” you affirmed, face heating. That hadn’t even been begging, but it was subservient in a way that you had always made a point of avoiding. 

“Good,” Fox praised, erasing the burn in your cheeks. It returned in full force when he lifted a glass of water to your lips so you could take a series of sips. 

When you had finished, Fox set the glass down on a dresser across the room. He had to - the surface of your bedside table was covered in an army of vibrators, plugs, and other assorted toys. The largest bottle - holding your preferred lube - loomed over the rest like a king. 

Fox had apparently noticed where your gaze went, since he gave a sweeping gesture to indicate the table. “Pick one.” 

You frowned at him, searching for the trap in his words. Fox smiled, shaking his head a little. “No trick, little one. I know your favorite changes and I want to make sure this feels good for you.” 

“It always does, Fox,” you assured him, quickly biting your lip. “I mean, Commander.”

“Pick,” Fox repeated, durasteel in his tone at the reminder of the power games you were playing. “If I have to pick, you won’t like my choice.” 

That threat was laughably empty, especially given the conversation you had just finished, but you pretended to be concerned anyway. It was what you needed to keep things moving, and you desperately wanted to see where Fox went with this. 

“The white and gold,” you decided. Fox quirked one dark brow, but reached for it anyway, grabbing the lube at the same time. 

You studied your chosen toy as he began to stroke a thick layer of sheen over it. It was a rabbit vibrator, a lovely white silicone with gold embellishments. Both colors set off Fox’s rich skin tone as he prepared it for you, creating one of the most appealing images you had ever seen.

Despite the shine of the gold and the velvety matte white, the sophisticated-looking toy was simple to use and had the strongest vibrations of any toy you owned. It didn’t nudge you inexorably toward the edge of pleasure - it loaded you into a cannon and sent you there in an irresistible explosion.

Was it an overambitious choice for this particular occasion? Yeah, probably. But you wanted to throw Fox off his game, make him feel even partially as unbalanced as he made you. Besides, it really was your favorite toy at the moment.

True to his gentle nature, Fox started slow. He pressed his lips to yours in a gentle kiss, one you eagerly returned. When he was sure you were interested, he slowly deepened it, his mouth growing firmer and more dominant until you were opening and submitting to him. 

You hadn’t consciously parted your legs, but you must have at some point, probably in an attempt to make room for Fox. You hated the idea of him stooping awkwardly over the bed to kiss you in the range of your binder-clad hands when he could simply kneel on the bed in front of you. 

That helpfulness made it extraordinarily easy for Fox to lower the vibrator between your legs, teasing the head of it up and down your slit. You shuddered for him, and he swallowed down the tiny moan you gave.

He turned on the vibrations, alternating between almost breaching your channel and concentrating the head of it - and the strongest buzzing - directly against your clit. The noises you made were inhuman, and only the binders looped through the headboard kept you from pushing your way down the bed and forcing Fox to touch you the way you needed. 

“So impatient,” Fox tutted, as if he could read your mind. He pulled the vibrator away slightly. It was still in contact with your folds, but not nearly strong enough or where you needed it to be. 

“But you said I did good,” you pled, giving Fox your biggest, saddest eyes. 

“Hmm…” You wanted to call him out. There was no way he could really be considering your point while he pulsed the vibrator between your legs like that. “You’re right.” 

And then the whole beautiful, buzzing, well-lubricated toy was sinking into you. Your body parted eagerly around it and you made a sound that seemed to stem from your chest. Even with three orgasms in your recent past, the toy still brought on a stretching sensation, though it was noticeably less intense than usual.

“Fox!” you called, your fingers curling uselessly in the air. You wanted to dig them into Fox’s shoulders and back, the way you always did when you were consumed with pleasure, but the binders were strong enough to keep that from happening. 

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the side of your neck and nuzzling lightly. “I wouldn’t miss a second of this.” 

You couldn’t respond to his sweet words - you were too busy experiencing everything that was going on with the toy. The attention you had focused on the sensations between your legs only grew sharper as Fox began to pulse the toy gently in and out of you. The result was a tantalizing feeling of thrusting without removing the bulk of the vibrator from your core. 

The main benefit of this particular toy were the ‘ears’. With the vibrating shaft buried in you, they were touching your clit. And when Fox pressed it deeper, the resulting contact was firm and bright and breathtaking. 

It was strange, you mused. Your thoughts were coming far more slowly than usual, but their stream was still enough to pull you from the pleasure for a millisecond. You would have expected that reaching orgasm would take longer with each successive one you experienced. After all, you were no stranger to overstimulation. But you weren’t simply eager for Fox’s touches - your body was already starting to tighten in preparation for another orgasm. 

“Fox-” you started, cutting yourself off with a whine as Fox pressed the toy as far into your body as he could manage. 

Fox’s hands lightened against the vibrator’s silicone base. “You remember how to signal your safeword if you can’t speak, right?” 

You nodded, but didn’t tap the headboard three times. You didn’t want things to stop; you just didn’t want to be punished for coming without a warning. With every ounce of brainpower that hadn’t leeched down between your legs, you managed: “Close.” 

“Not good enough,” Fox decreed, increasing the speed of the toy’s vibrations. 

A choked scream clawed its way from your throat, almost painful in its intensity. The headboard clattered against the wall with the force of your hands against the binders. It wasn’t on purpose; your spine had arched so sharply that you couldn’t have prevented it if you had tried.

And you definitely didn’t have the mental capacity to try. 

This orgasm came over you like a flood, drowning you in pleasure until it was all you had ever known and all you would ever know. Every one of your senses was taken over by the sheer amount of information being fed into your nerve endings, and it robbed you of everything that wasn’t the overwhelming tide of sensations.

When you finally came down from that high, the vibrations had stopped, but Fox was holding the now-still toy thrust fully into you. The intrusion wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable. Especially with the way your inner muscles played over and gripped the toy, though you weren’t sure if they were trying to push it out or hold it in place. 

The slow slide of the toy leaving your body was strange, especially after having it settled firmly inside of you for that stretch of time. You shuddered as it finally pulled free, leaving you feeling oddly empty. 

“Thank you,” you murmured unprompted. 

Fox’s smile was immediate, flashing bright. “You’re welcome, pretty girl. Let’s keep this going, hmm?” 

Your eyebrows scrunched together as you tried to decide how you felt about that. You were exhausted and more than a little sore. More importantly, Fox hadn’t been inside of you yet, and you definitely wanted to fix that before you were done for the night. 

“Are you ready?” Fox asked. The question wasn’t pointed or demanding, but he was watching you as he waited patiently for an answer. 

“I… I don’t know how much longer I can last,” you admitted reluctantly. It had been a wonderful night, if a little more intense than you had expected, but you were starting to hit your limit. 

Fox was unbothered, clearly not disappointed in your lackluster answer. “Thank you for telling me, sweetheart. I’m going to keep going until you safeword. That’s the goal of this particular session. Use the word any time you need to, but I’m not stopping until then. Do you understand?” 

You nodded, relieved that Fox wouldn’t be disappointed if you used your safeword. In fact, the revelation that you were not only encouraged, but expected to use your safeword was… freeing, somehow. Counterintuitively, it made you feel like you could keep going. 

Fox’s hands reached for you, and you were thoroughly relieved when they moved past the tender throbbing between your legs. Instead, he stroked your thighs, then your hips, working his way further and further in a massaging path up your torso. Fox was strong enough to reach behind you, supporting your weight as his fingertips trailed down your spine and back up again. 

He slowly began moving back down the front half of your body, and he took a lengthy pause at your chest. The weight of your breasts was hefted, cradled in a gentle palm as his thumbs teased lightly over your nipples. 

When Fox’s lips wrapped around the sensitive peaks of your flesh, you weren’t surprised. You cried out anyway for him as he licked and sucked, every motion careful with the knowledge that you were close to the breaking point. As his mouth worked against your nipples, Fox’s hands strayed over the soft, ticklish flesh of your ribs, stroking the skin that always suffered the worst in the confines of your bra. 

You made an inarticulate noise as you felt the barest hint of Fox’s teeth - only an edge of them, there for a millisecond and gone again, but the idea of it had you squirming with excitement. Fox slipped further and further down, the weight of him between your legs trapping your thighs splayed wide enough for him to fit between them. 

He didn’t use his mouth on you. You had actually expected that from the way he had been tormenting you this time around, but he didn’t touch your core at all. Instead, he folded an arm under his head and rested it on your inner thigh. It gave him a very intimate vantage point for observation and you felt a flash of embarrassment. That was gone as quickly as it had come on when he reached to draw a feather-light fingertip over your folds. 

The effects of that light touch were profound in your sensitive state. Chills broke out over your skin and something low in your belly quivered. It felt like your entire body took an anticipatory breath.

Fox either didn’t notice your sudden focus or he was pretending not to. Instead, he kept tracing an incomprehensible pattern across your sensitive flesh. The folds of your sex were decorated with designs you couldn’t see and couldn’t begin to visualize. But your body was thoroughly enjoying it anyway, and you started to feel sharp interest growing in you once more.

The torment was slow, savoring. Having had almost no time to recover between sessions, you were already keyed-up, and pleasure came quickly even with the lightness of Fox’s touches. When you reached your peak, the pulsing of endorphins came so languorously that you weren’t quite sure you had come at all. You just knew you felt wonderful and that the galaxy seemed so, so distant and your problems didn’t quite feel real anymore. 

Since it was difficult to tell when the pleasure had started, it was equally difficult to tell when it had ended. Your muscles still trembled with an occasional spasm and your walls flexed and grasped around nothing. The room seemed hazy, not quite solid, and sounds were muted until you heard someone say your name. 

You blinked, and the weight of your eyelids was intense. Fox had sat up, staring into your face from only inches away. You half-expected him to kiss you, but the concern in his expression was odd. 

He said your name again, and you focused on his familiar face instead of your own tumbling stream of thoughts. “Are you okay? Thought I lost you for a second there.” 

That brought a hint of a smile to your face. “You’re good, Fox, but no, you didn’t kill me.” 

“Not dead, sweet girl,” he said, clearly relieved by the joke. “But I was worried you were gone for a while.” 

The way he flicked his fingers beside his ear communicated that he thought you had passed out. You shook your head. “I’m fine.” 

He looked deeply skeptical at that. “Something you want to say to me?” 

“Thank you, Commander.” 

The words were rote, fully automatic, but you couldn’t help a laugh when Fox’s expression turned to a wry sort of grimace. “Not what I meant. I think it’s about time you use that safeword.” 

You paused for a moment to consider that. You couldn’t keep this going indefinitely, but you had some things you still wanted from this session. “No.” 

The smile that appeared on your face made Fox scowl. “Not a question. You didn’t answer me the first few times I called your name. I think it’s time for this to stop.” 

“You said you wouldn’t stop until I used my safeword,” you reminded him. “And I haven’t used it yet. If you want to stop, you use your safeword. But if not, I want to keep going. I do have a request, though.” 

“Brat,” Fox sighed, staring at the ceiling like it could help him tame your attitude. “What is your request? I’m not saying I’ll agree to it.” 

“I want you to fuck me,” you said, gaze level. “I need to feel you inside of me. Please, Commander.” 

There was an internal battle being waged within Fox; you could almost see it happening. At last, he sighed again. “I feel like I have to agree to that request.” 

“It seems to be in your best interests,” you said, letting your gaze drift obviously down to his hips. He was hard, and had been for quite some time. After all, he hadn’t come a single time yet, and you were starting to worry for his health. 

Fox shook his head, but you could see his eagerness in the way he moved over your body. As he settled on top of you, he still took a moment to stroke down your arms. “Does this hurt yet?” 

Until that question, you had actually forgotten that your arms had been raised over your head for such a long time. As soon as he mentioned it, the tingling running from your fingertips down to your shoulders intensified into something you struggled to ignore. “Not hurt, but it’s starting to feel… not great.” 

Fox immediately released the binders from the headboard, catching your arms when they fell heavily toward the surface of the bed. He massaged the muscles of your arms, easing the tingling. “Better?” 

You nodded, and he quickly magnetized the binders once more. This time, your wrists were connected to each other instead of the headboard. You had a lot more movement this time, but Fox solved that problem by tossing your bound wrists over his head, using himself as your anchor. 

He lined himself up at your entrance without looking away from you, and the eye contact made your tired muscles eager for him. When he started pushing into you, he felt incredibly, impossibly big and you made a helpless little noise. 

At the same moment, your inner muscles clenched, fighting to pull him inside faster and Fox choked out a breath. Your body rippled again and his fragile control snapped. He slammed inside of you. 

The sudden invasion was a shock to your system, utterly overwhelming, and it threw you directly into another orgasm. 

Thankfully, it was a small one and you were soon aware once more. Fox was watching you, brows raised as you shrugged. “Sorry, you caught me off guard. I’m ready for you to keep going.” 

Your breathless explanation clearly didn’t satisfy him, but Fox slowly withdrew from you and pushed back in once more. Once, then again, then once more as you made appreciative sounds. If you could still remember how to speak, you would have expressed that appreciation in words, but you were a little short on brain power at the moment. 

“You’re tight,” Fox grunted, thrusting a little harder. “How are you still tight? We’ve been doing this for hours.” 

“I-” You broke off, gasping a little at the rhythm he had taken up. “You feel so good, Fox.”

Fox’s eyes darkened and he sped up even more. It hadn’t been an idle attempt to flatter him, either. Of all the things you had done up to that point, this was easily the best one. You had barely started and you had already come once. Even still, your toes were curling and your bound hands clutched at Fox’s back and shoulders for support. 

There was a crease between Fox’s brows. “Not sure how much longer I’ll last, sweetheart.” 

“Now you sound like me,” you murmured, earning a radiant smile from him. He followed it up immediately with a kiss and you were gone. 

As soon as you started squeezing around him, Fox lost what was left of his composure. He speared himself deep inside of you, spilling heat in your core as you shuddered together through the overwhelming tide of pleasure. 

When the orgasm ebbed away, you were exhausted, more tired than you could remember having been. Fox gently turned you both onto your sides. He kept one of your thighs pinned over his hip, holding himself inside of you and keeping the worst of the mess under control until you could go clean up. 

Fox’s hand rose, and he stroked gentle fingertips down the curve of your cheek. “So good for me. Perfect girl.” 

You smiled, snuggling into his hand. “Palpatine.” 

Fox blinked at you, uncomprehending for a long moment before he gave a warm chuckle. “Good. I was starting to think I really was depriving you.” 

“Never,” you assured, pressing a kiss to the base of his thumb.

---

Author's Note - Here's another fic I'm not sure I'll continue. I love this couple and their sweet and spicy dynamic. I'm just not sure what else I have to say, if anything. If I do end up writing more, I'll be sure to link it here.

For now, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

[corrieguards]

Could you write some commander fox smut with 7 from your prompt list? Love you work

A/N: thank you so much for the request bby <33 I loved that prompt and I was hoping someone would choose it!! Also love my boy Fox so the combination was perfect.

Hope this is to your liking!!❤️❤️

18+ CONTENT

Commander Fox x reader Summary: Fox is starting to get tired of seeing you get brought in by the Guard, so he decides to try a... different approach Word count: 3,3k of filth C/W: porn with some plot, smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected piv sex (pls don't be stupid irl), use of binders, creampie let me know if i forgot anything <3

Prompt: "Does it make you nervous when I stare?"

prompt list my masterlist

Smut under the cut, minors DNI

You weren't a bad person. Not really. You just had a knack for getting into trouble.

Born and raised in the lower levels of Coruscant, the itch for theft was basically built into your DNA. And you'd be damned if you weren't going to scratch it. 

Nothing too serious, of course; just petty theft. Pickpocketing a few stupid richies every now and then.

After all, they had more than enough to spare, and you would put the extra credits to much better use. Plus, it was an odd satisfaction to get back at the more privileged.

Unfortunately, the Coruscant Guard didn't share your view on the subject, specifically a certain commander of the guard. And that’s the reason why you're sitting in this miserable room for what feels like the fifth time in the last month alone.

The interrogation room was built to intimidate, with only one lone bright light shining directly on the metal table and cameras in all four corners of the room, all of them directed at you.

And the worst part, the big, dark, two-way mirror in front of you, with your own reflection staring you mockingly in the face.

You huff exaggeratedly, making a show of wriggling your hands as much as you can in these binders that are keeping you chained to the table. You may be alone in this room, but you're not stupid. You've been in here enough times to know that you're still being watched like a hawk. 

Jerking your hands again, harder this time, the binders clang noisily but don't budge. Immediately, the speakers crackle

"Please refrain from struggling. A member of the guard will be by to question you shortly."

Your head whips up at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice. It may sound the same as millions of others, but you've been in here enough times to recognize the particularly snarky tone of this one. You direct a glare at the dark mirror across from you, scowling. Fox.

You may not be able to see him, but you know exactly who's behind there. And you also know without a doubt that he's staring straight back at you.

—

Ever a man of his word, a few minutes later the door is sliding open, a clone making his way over to the table.

You graze over his armour quickly, looking for the familiar markings but finding none. Not Fox. A strange sense of disappointment fills you briefly before you squash it down.

The clone sits in the chair across from you, setting his blaster down on the table with a clang. Your eyes immediately dart to it, your fingertips stretching  just far enough to graze the cold metal.

Just as quickly, the speakers crackle to life again

"Don't even think about it."

You jump, pulling your fingers back quickly. The trooper startles too, but reacts swiftly, scrambling to snatch up the blaster and move it out of your reach.

Your eyes slide over to the mirror again, where Fox is obviously behind, watching you carefully. The voice of the trooper in front of you pulls your gaze back to him.

"Okay, let's get started Miss…"

He’s taken out a datapad, skimming over it quickly and trying to find your name. You scoff before he has a chance to find it, rolling your eyes.

"Don’t bother," you spit out mockingly. "I ain’t telling you anything."

The poor clone looks slightly taken aback at your harshness, and you almost regret being so hard on him. Until you see his fingers lift to press the side of his helmet, faintly hearing a gruff voice giving him orders through his helmet.

You scoff, feeling anger start to bubble up in you immediately. You move your gaze from the trooper to fix itself on the black mirror behind him, shouting loud enough for Fox to hear you behind the glass.

"How about you come out here and face me like a man, Fox!"

You see the trooper in front of you stiffen, and you smirk, satisfied when the orders coming from his helmet stop abruptly.

Your taunt obviously worked, because before you know it the door hisses open ominously, your smirk widening when you recognize the armour behind it.

He takes a step in and stops, helmet tilting as he regards you silently. You smile teasingly, wiggling your fingers as much as you can in the binders in an attempt at a wave. 

"Nice of you to join."

He sighs, shaking his head before turning to his brother.

He jerks his head towards the door and the trooper gets the message, getting up and shuffling out of the interrogation room, the door sliding shut behind him.

You follow Fox’s movements as he stalks over to the table, the chair scraping when he pulls it out. He grunts as he sits down, his armour clattering.

His helmet tilts, the black visor directed at you as the crackle of a modulated voice breaks the silence of the room.

"Y’know, I’m starting to think you miss me with how many times you’ve been in here recently."

You lean back, smirking and shrugging lazily. "Eh, you boys looked bored; I thought I’d give you something to do."

You smirk, satisfied when you hear him sigh frustratedly through the helmet. The thought of getting under his skin amuses you immensely. You can just imagine his eyes rolling under that stupid helmet.

Almost on cue, his hands grasp the rim of his helmet, hissing as he lifts it off. He sets it down on the table gently before shaking his head, tossling his curly hair.

Your eyes fix on a single coil that separates from the rest, hanging down in front of his forehead in a ridiculously sexy way.

He doesn't bother to move it.

You flick your gaze from the strand of hair down to his own eyes, your breath hitching when you're met with his own already staring at you.

His visor you can handle, his eyes, however...

His eyes, not so much.

They're so piercing that it's making your stomach lurch.

He sees your reaction, smirking and leaning back in his seat. You follow his movements, gulping when you see his arms bulge when he crosses them in front of his chest. Fuck.

"Not so mouthy now, huh? What happened?"

Desperately scrambling to think of a snarky comment to say back, you open your mouth but nothing comes out, only able to focus on him. 

He’s smiling smugly, raking his eyes slowly up and down your form, eventually coming back and locking his gaze with yours again.

Now you're squirming, desperately wanting to look anywhere but him, but simultaneously completely unable to tear your eyes from his. They’re such a pretty shade of brown, so soft, so- 

You swallow thickly and watch his eyes crinkle in the corners as he smirks, catching on to your uneasiness.

"Aw, does it make you nervous when I stare? Is that it?"

You scoff, his mocking tone bringing you back to reality. 

"Don't flatter yourself, of course not."

"Oh, really?" he quirks an eyebrow. Resting his forearms on the table, he leans forward, hands clasping together in front of him.

"Tell me, pretty girl, do you ever stop lying?"

"Only with people who deserve it," you tilt your head at him mockingly, "and dirty, filthy cops aren’t included in that, no exceptions. Not even for you."

He chuckles, the crook of his gloved fingers coming to rest under your chin.

"Oh, you have no idea how dirty I can be, darling."

"How ‘bout you show me then, Fox?"

You smirk, keeping eye contact as you sink your teeth into your lower lip. His fingers move to grasp the side of your jaw, tilting your face up.

"That’s Commander to you, doll."

Your mocking eye roll gets cut off by his hand moving to the nape of your neck, fingers threading through your hair and pulling to tilt your head further. 

Your gasp of surprise turns to a choked moan when you feel his tongue slowly drag up your now exposed neck, leaving a wet trail behind.

Reaching your jaw, he leaves sloppy kisses until he reaches your lips, hovering over them but not moving closer.

Your eyes snap open, whining as you try to press your lips to his, but his hand in your hair is stopping you, keeping his lips just out of reach.

"Please Fox," you whine, hands clenching pathetically in your binders. You feel him smirk, his lips brushing yours as he speaks.

"C'mon, baby, we just talked about this."

You glare at him, trying one more time to inch forward but failing miserably. Huffing in defeat, you grumble out the words.

"Please, Commander"

He hums, considering for a bit before shaking his head slightly.

"I know you can do better than that beautiful."

Glancing up at him through your eyelashes, you try again, this time giving him your best sickly sweet smile.

"Please kiss me, Commander."

He smirks, his free hand coming to cup your cheek "Much better"

He loosens the hold on your hair, allowing you to surge forward and press your lips together, hard. He grunts at the force of the collision but recovers quickly, kissing you back, hot and hurried.

His hand moves to hold your throat gently and you sloppily try to keep up with him, the thumb softly brushing up your neck making it difficult to focus on anything, your brain foggy and full of him. His lips, his voice, his hands-

He senses you getting sloppier and pulls back, panting slightly. A gentle thumb strokes your cheekbone as he searches your eyes for any hint of doubt.

"Do you want me to stop, sweetheart? You just gotta say the word, and it’s over."

You shake your head frantically, already trying to kiss him again.

"Fuck no, don’t you dare."

He smirks, leaning in long enough to give you a quick peck before pulling back again. You watch confused as he presses a button on his vambrace, realisation hitting you when all the cameras in the room power down simultaneously.

"I don’t want anybody watching us." He moves behind you, hands grasping at your waist and squeezing. "This is just for my eyes only."

Your lips part slightly, and you feel heat pool between your legs at the connotation of the gesture. He chuckles when he sees you press your thighs together, his own leg slotting itself between them to stop you.

"Patience, pretty girl, all in due time."

He leans forward to unclip your binders, but you push your ass back to stop him. 

"No, leave them. Please" 

He chuckles, moving his hand to your shoulder instead, pulling the thin straps of your top down and scrunching it up at your waist. Your back and shoulders now exposed, he presses a kiss to your shoulder blade, ducking his head down further to whisper in your ear.

"Such a filthy girl."

You hear a clatter of armour as he falls to his knees behind you, gloved hands following the curve of your hips and hooking onto the top of your pants. He presses a sweet kiss to the small of your back before he's yanking them down, taking your panties along with them.

You moan at the feeling of the cold air, but it quickly gets replaced with his hot breath fanning against your center. His unruly hair tickles your inner thighs as he leans closer, making you shiver.

You don't have to wait long before his tongue drags through your folds, moaning into you when he gets his first taste. You jerk forward, pressing further into the cold table when he repeats the action a second time, as slow and deliberate as before.

The sound of your desperate moan has him gripping your ass harder, spreading on your cheeks and pushing his mouth even closer to you.

The relentless lapping at your cunt has you squirming against his hold, binders biting into your wrist as you tugg on them desperately.

His hands leave you and you whine in protest, but they are immediately replaced, now far warmer and softer as they glide down your ass. He took his gloves off. That could only mean-

You gasp, feeling two of his fingers prod your entrance, pressing in slowly and making you moan his name.

An obscene squelch fills the quiet room as he moves his fingers in and out of you, angling them just right to brush over that one spot that makes you see stars.

You steadily melt further into the table, the combination of his warm tongue and fingers making your brain go hazy. 

And when he latches onto your clit, suckling gently, you fall, a broken moan escaping you as waves of white-hot pleasure roll through you.

Fox works you through it, diligently lapping everything up without pause. As you slowly come back to reality, you become increasingly aware of his tongue still swirling around your clit, now much too sensitive.

You whine, pathetically trying to get out of his reach but unable to get far, stuck between the cold table and his tongue behind you.

"S’too much, please," you drawl out pitifully, shivering when he chuckles behind you, vibrations feeling all too good against your sensitive cunt.

You tug on the binders again, more purposfully this time.

 "Please, Fo- Commander. Wanna touch you."

He pulls back from your soaked pussy, licking his lips and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Only because you asked so nicely, baby,"

He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he taps the button on the binders. As soon as they click open, you're ripping them off, whirling around to kiss him hard.

He grunts in surprise, but kisses you back just as desperately. You feel a tap on the back of your thighs, and you understand immediately, jumping up as he catches you effortlessly.

He lifts you back onto the table, pushing your legs further apart and slotting himself between them, never once stopping the kiss.

Your fingers rake through his curls, tangling themselves and tugging playfully. The groan he lets out is positively sinful, wetness pooling between your legs in response.

You move down his jaw to his neck, pulling at the neck of his blacks with your free hand, lips latching on to the tan skin revealed underneath.

He moans when you start sucking, his breath hitching when you nip at his Adam's apple.

"Fuck meshla," you feel the rumble of his voice against your lips. "You're too damn good at that, y'know."

You hum, sucking another pretty bruise into his neck "Yeah, I know."

He rolls his eyes, pushing a hand against your chest and making you fall back against the table with a small huff of surprise.

Instantly he's bent over you, chest practically pressed against yours, as he expertly unclups his codpiece with his free hand, pulling his weeping cock out of his blacks.

He does it so quickly that it has you wondering about how many other times he does this with other girls, jealousy rising at the thought.

You reach out to grasp his length, but he swats your hand away, gathering both your wrists into one of his hands and holding them above your head.

"What did I just say about patience, babygirl?"

Glaring at him, you roll your eyes. "It wouldn’t be a problem if you’d just hurry up."

Your quipp gets cut off by a gasp as he presses the tip of his cock into your cunt, nudging it forward and hungrily watching your reaction.

"Please, Commander. Please just fuck me already," you beg without shame, desperate to feel him stretch you out.

He smiles smugly and, with surprising gentleness, slowly pushes his hips forward, savouring every inch until his hips meet yours. Your head falls back, your eyes rolling at the feeling.

You're so full, it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. You're completely stuffed to the brim with him and you love it.

He pulls back just as slowly as he entered, the drag against your walls making you moan and scramble to grab his shoulders.

His eyes are closed, brow furrowed, and mouth parted, lost in the feeling of you squeezing him.

"F-fuck meshla. So fucking tight for me."

You whine, tugging at his hair, desperate for more. It seems to do the trick, his eyes snapping open and his hand grabbing onto your waist before he's surging forward again, this time with much more determination.

Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, fingers gripping his shoulder pauldrons as his thigh plates smack against your skin rhythmically.

He's got one hand on the crook of your knee, holding your leg open for him while his other one trails up your chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

You watch his mouth part as his eyes hungrily watch your tits bounce with every harsh thrust, his hand moving to grab one of them, his thumb brushing over your nipple.

The feeling has you arching your back, desperate to be closer to him, to feel every inch of him against you.

His hips stutter and he grunts, his head falling down and face pressing into your neck.

"Shit. You feel so good- So fucking warm, so tight." 

You feel his hot pant against your ear as he speaks, and you can only moan in response, burying your hand in his curls again.

He's losing his rhythm, and his moans are getting louder against your neck.

"Fuck I’m sorry, baby, I'm going cum. Can't hold it-  S'too good."

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He moans at the silent message, gritting his teeth and thrusting sloppily as he tries to hold on a little longer.

"You sure, meshla? Inside?"

You cut him off with a wet kiss, nodding frantically, 

"Please Fox, need to feel you fill me up." You reaffirm your words by locking your ankles together behind his back, and that ends him.

He chokes on a moan, pressing his face further into your neck, hips slamming against yours and pushing as far up into you as he can reach.

One of his hands slides down to press against your belly as he shudders on top of you, fingers fumbling to find your clit. 

He presses his thumb against it, and that small amount of pressure is all it takes to tip you over the edge.

You back arches up, pressing your breasts into his chest as you moan his name, digging your nails into the back of his neck, leaving red trails as your eyes roll back, feeling the hot spurts of his release against your walls.

He sloppily thrusts forward two more times before he collapses on you, completely spent.

"Fuck meshla, that was- fuck that was incredible."

He's still catching his breath when he cranes his neck to press an open-mouthed kiss to your lips, a wet thumb brushing over your bottom lip softly.

You smile at him cheekily, taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking gently, tasting your own slick and looking up at him innocently. His breath hitches, his eyes darkening.

"Keep doing that, and I might just have to give you something better to suck on."

You smirk, making sure to keep your eyes on his as you suck hard, your tongue swirling around the pad of his thumb. A low chuckle rumbles out of his chest, eyes darkening further

"Filthy girl."

----

tag-list: @techs-feral-wife @nekotaetae @rain-on-kamino @dalu-grantkylo @lucyysthings @plotlessvoid

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[dragonrider9905]

What Tooka You So Long?

Happy birthday @imabeautifulbutterfly!!! I hope it is filled with many blessings and much happiness! It’s been so wonderful chatting with you and reading your stories. I’ve been a fan for so long ;D I hope you accept and like this little gift I have for you :) ❤️🤗

Also @clonexreaderbingo this fits for my square “alone”!

Bending over flimsi for long periods of time is not advisable. Fox would know this.

Not just from the bothersome brothers who are medics, like Kix, telling him to stop and take care of himself, but also from experience. Currently, he’s been bent over the same piece of flimsi for three hours alone. How long he’d been sitting there for the entire stack on his desk….he didn’t know. From the tension and ache in his back and shoulders, he had a pretty good idea.

….he hated to think about how long he’d been sitting there for all the paperwork he ever did….

…And how much more would he have to do for the rest of his life?!…..

Suddenly, a tooka jumped him from out of nowhere!

Breaking not only his musings but…

Spilling his precious, delicious, delectable piece of crap, no excuse for good quality, absolute awful caff all over his desk….and flimsi.

Fox’s heart sank. It was due tomorrow…

With a heavy sigh he stood up, bones popping and muscles protesting.

Ah great.

There was a krink in his neck too.

Now his paperwork was all messed up AND he was sore. He quickly cleaned up the mess with some rags he had around the office. He’d forgotten why they were there but he used them anyway. If he didn’t remember, then it wasn’t important.

With another sigh, he looked down at the little, adorable intruder currently purring against him. Secretly, Fox had a soft spot for these incredibly cute, fuzzy creatures, (he didn’t let it out lest he’d never hear the end of it) but not today.

Scooping up the tiny culprit, Fox headed out the door with his third sigh that minute. In one hand, he held the empty mug, in the other, the tiny fur ball increasingly becoming attached to him, not only purring but wrapping its tiny paws contently around his arm and hand.

He didn’t know where the little guy came from…it isn’t like they were allowed in the building or were easily let in. Someone must have smuggled him in.

“Whatcha got there, hey Commander?” Hound teased.

Fox’s unamused scowl would have been enough for most, but not his brothers. “Not caff, that’s what.”

Fox trotted on past the sound of Hound laughing behind him.

He growled and hefted the animal to a more comfortable position in the crook of his arm. He made his way through the halls, to where he didn’t know. He supposed he was just going to let it outside when he heard a woman call out. He saw your face light up at the sight of him holding the kitten and ran towards him.

“Ohhhhh, you found her! Thank you! I’m so sorry if she bothered you or got in your way!”

You took her from his arms, holding her up to look her in the face with an angry pout.

“Naughty girl, Zula. No running off.”

Fox tilted his head. He knew you; you were the psychiatrist for the Coruscant Guard. He liked you because you always treated them all like people and not headcases. It also didn’t hurt that he found you rather pleasing to look at. Which was a secret he kept next to his love for tookas. He’d been wanting to meet you for some time. He never had time to make his appointments with you but that freed up time for his other brothers to go. He didn’t have the guts to go up to you in person so deep down, the curse of this morning was secretly turning out to be a blessing. He liked Zula a lot better now than five minutes ago.

Now he just had to figure out what to say…

You looked up at the clone blinking blankly at you. He hadn’t said a word yet. You knew about the stoic Commander—you’d heard lots of stories about him but never met him in person yet. He refused to show up to his appointments with you. You didn’t know if it was an insecurity of his to talk about his problems or if he had a problem with you specifically. Either way, this was the first time you were ever encountering him.

“I’m so sorry. She helps my patients relax, but she’s not totally trained yet and this is the second time she’s snuck out. It only takes her one second.” You sighed. “Let me please get you something for your troubles…”

You noticed the empty caff mug, realizing what probably happened. “Oh no, let me get you a refill…I hope she didn’t ruin anything.”

“No problem ma’am. There is no need. Glad to be of assistance.”

Fox tilted his head but kept his stoic face plastered in stone.

“I can get you a refill real quick! I have my own machine…”

“It is alright. I, uh, don’t need any more for today. Don’t let her get away again though. But if she does, let me know and I’ll track her down for you.”

He inwardly cringed at how demanding he sounded, the slight growl he worked to perfection coming forward. Instead of being taken aback, you smiled, charmed.

“Sure thing, Commander. Thank you. And thank you for your offer. It was great to finally meet you. I hope I’ll be seeing you around?”

“Definitely, ma’am.” Fox titled his head respectfully again. “Have a good day.”

With that, Fox headed back to his office.

“You too, Commander! If you change your mind about the caff, I have a whole bunch, more than what is good for me so feel free to stop in!” You called after him cheerily.

Fox half turned to grace you with a small smile before turning away so you wouldn’t see him turning as red as his armor. There was no way you meant that to be friendly…probably one of your mind tricks to get him to show up for an appointment…but would that really be so bad? Fox ran over the encounter in his head again. It was so brief but his head was whirling.

If she does, let me know and I’ll track her down for you?! Really, Fox? Couldn’t think of anything better? That was real smooth…not.

He scolded himself. He knew you worked in separate worlds, but he hoped your paths would cross again, not in a professional setting that is. He found himself elated in the fact his grumpy exterior didn’t scare you away. A small smile tugged at his lips.

Kriff, why leave it to fate? Why not just set it up himself? He could do that. He was Commander for goodness sakes! And by setting it up himself, he didn’t mean to become your patient. There were other ways.

Double kriff! He didn’t ask you for your comm number!

Ugh, today was not his day.

But the tooka did wander into his room before…perhaps it would again?

Fox left the door open, hoping the mischievous tooka would find its way back to him.

— — —

Quinlan Vos’s debriefings had got to be one of the most interesting ways to debrief a debriefing. Fox rubbed his temples and headed back to his office. He liked the jedi. He was efficient and got the job done…but sometimes he was just…so….much. Goodness gracious he was glad to have him on his side but serving with him on the next mission would be…interesting. If the last mission was anything to go by, the next pile of flimsi was going to be six inches high again.

Fox might as well say goodbye to sleep for the next week right now.

He quickly shut the door behind him and leaned against it.

Fox took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. Shutting his eyes, he leaned his head back. He never allowed himself many breaks, but this would be an exception. He needed a moment.

Rubbing his eyes, a pleasant smell wafted into his space. One that he knew well. Man, Fox must be tired because he swore the scent of caf invaded his nostrils. He never refilled his caf, and if he did, it would be cold by now…no, this was warm and steaming and waaaay more rich than the swill he was used to.

Slowly, as if in a dream, he walked toward his desk, and sure enough in the center was a steaming mug of his favorite beverage. The container was unfamiliar to him so he stared at it blankly for two whole minutes wondering who left their caf on his desk. What they wanted and why they didn’t wait for him to come back or perhaps how they got in in the first place. His office was secured…

Then he noticed the little scribbled note beside it.

It was for him!

Enjoy on me! I know you said it wasn’t necessary but I wanted to do something for you. Sorry about the spill. Hope you like it! Thanks for being a hero. Zula is such a troublemaker; she needs rescuing every once and a while and I’m grateful to know that when she goes missing, I can rely on you.

The writing was yours. Of course he’d know your script anywhere—you wouldn’t have needed to sign it but he loved that you did.

Perhaps today wasn’t a total failure then. Unbeknownst to him, a small smile crept up the corners of his lips and stayed there for the rest of his shift.

— — —

A few days later, little Zula did indeed find her way back to Fox’s office. The tooka’s visits became sporadic and he worried the troublemaker would find a new favorite place. So, he started leaving little treats to lure the creature back to his office consistently just so he could return her to you. His plan worked rather well. Every day at noon, Zula would slip out of your office and find him. It was perfect because you both had lunch at noon, and not only would you not be interrupted but Fox could spare a full fifteen minutes to talk to you if he wanted. You would offer him caff most of the time, and it was heavenly. He tried not to accept it all the time so he wasn’t taking advantage of your generosity (let’s not discuss the flow chart he kept in his office of the days he accepted and didn’t just to be sure). You always smiled brightly handing him the cup, and Fox never ceased at the joy you received from giving.

He just wondered how long it would be until you’d tire of it…

— — —

Of course, you were well aware that was what he was doing. At first it was a pleasant surprise, but when you noticed a pattern of not only Fox showing up every day with your pet, but that she was leaving at the same time everyday….mouth slightly wet with saliva or covered with crumbs…..you knew. And you weren’t complaining.

You just played along with it for as long as you could. You figured you could only play dumb so long. Then again, he probably knew you were playing. Man was an investigator! Why he continued the little charade, you didn’t know. But you were fond of your guess and didn’t want to let it go. As long as there was no definitive answer, you could dream away.

You knew it wasn’t advisable; games of the heart weren’t safe to play.

But here you were. Looking forward to every visit he paid you and hoping it wouldn’t be the last. You actually got him to laugh last time. Actually laugh! You’d gotten him to chuckle on a regular basis, which you delighted in, but something rang different seeing the stoic man break down, holding his gut while tears fell from his eyes as his voice echoed in joyous waves. To be honest, you can’t even remember what you said, but you’d never forget that moment.

You stirred your caf dreamily, eyes far off and smile bright. You didn’t even notice Fox approach you.

“Hello? Tooka got your tongue?”

You looked up sharply to find Fox in front of you yet again, holding your ‘runaway’ pet. You smiled.

“Oh no, I was just thinking. Hello Commander Fox.”

Fox was glad he was wearing his helmet. The only other thing that made him blush more than his full title was when you just said his name. It felt so personal…he felt seen.

Here comes that unfamiliar feeling again. The only one he got when he was around you.

“What brings you here today? Other than the naughty girl,” you side eyed the playful creature purring against the red armor happily, “did you have any more crazy missions to report? One of the other legions playing pranks against the Guard today?” you chuckled.

“No…not today,” Fox chuckled back shyly, “there was actually something else,” he coughed, “something else I wanted to tell you…ask you!” he quickly corrected.

Grinning to the side stupidly, you encouraged him on, “Alright, go ahead.”

He let out a breath and swung his arms. “Okay.”

Seeing Fox so nervous was just too cute. You tried not to laugh and mess him up but your giddiness inside was trying desperately to make its way past your smile.

“OOOOkkkaaayy. Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeated, biting your lip. “Right.”

“No,” he looked down with a breathy laugh, “not that…”

“Then what is it?”

“I just…really need to tell you. I like you. A lot. Would you consider going out with me?”

You chuckled. “You have no idea how long I’ve ‘considered’ it. Yes!!!! What took you so long to ask?”

Something warm and unfamiliar bloomed in Fox’s chest. He didn’t know quite what it was, but that was one investigation he was looking forward to. Deep inside, something broke.

It wasn’t something he needed anyway.

It was only the feeling he was meant to be alone.

Replaced with a feeling of belonging and love.

[ghostofskywalker]

🎉Congrats on 3k followers! What a milestone. 🎉

For the celebration, I was wondering if you might write a silly fic about a reader getting proposed to five times on the Star Wars equivalent of New Years Eve. Maybe some clones are trying to get their commander to admit his longstanding feelings for the reader (or whatever scenario you dream up).

thank you so much!! i loved this idea, i hope you enjoy the fic!!

words: 1,986

summary: this celebration only came once a year, and this time, the coruscant guard enlisted some help from other battalions to make sure that fox would finally admit his feelings for you.

@clonexreaderbingo square: "don't ask"

clone troopers masterlist || join my 3k celebration!!

Coruscant Guard's (Unconventional) Dating Service: Free For Clones Named Fox

If you asked Fox about the actions of his troopers, he would shake his head and heave a sigh that could be heard across the galaxy. 

If you asked the rest of Coruscant Guard on the other hand, they’d talk about how they deserve a medal for what they’re doing. 

You see, they had recently began working with a civilian attachment, someone whose whole job was that they were there to help in any way possible, and who was much more proficient at making sure everything was running smoothly than the rest of the Guard was, if Thorn was being honest. You had worked with several different battalions before you had been assigned to them, including the 501st, 327th, and 212th, and his brothers in those legions had nothing but praise for you. He didn’t think he had much to thank the GAR for, because he was stuck working for no pay and interacting with the rudest people in the galaxy on a daily basis, but he did think that she was worth the trouble. 

His commanding officer certainly agreed with his statement, as much as he would never admit to it. It was obvious that Fox held amorous feelings for the new presence in their headquarters, but he was also incredibly stubborn, and he refused to believe anyone who told him that she felt the same way. 

Luckily, Thorn (and the rest of the command squad) weren’t going to let something like this go so easily, and they put their heads together to try and figure out a way to get the two oblivious idiots to finally see what they’ve been missing for months at this point. 

What they settled on was unorthodox, there was no denying that, but he had faith in his fellow troopers, and if nothing else, it was pretty much guaranteed to get a rise out of Fox. 

The party was in full swing when Thorn stepped in, walking with Hound and Stone. At the end of each year there was always celebration, a way to try and forget the war and the worry for a single evening, and whatever battalions were planetside at the time were always invited when the Guard threw their yearly bash. They’d been stockpiling liquor for the past six months, and this year the 501st and the 104th was here to share it with them. 

It also meant that you were going to be there, and there was going to be a lot of people that you hadn’t seen in a while in attendance. 

“Is everything all set up?” Stone asked quietly, as the two of them stared across the room, where you were talking to a clone with blue accents on his armor, smiles on both of your faces. 

Thorn nodded. “Our friends in the 501st were more than happy to help us out, and you know that Wolffe always likes to get a rise out of Fox, so he was easy to convince.”

“Excellent,” Hound responded. “Now we just wait for the fun to begin.”

The three of them began to mingle with the others in attendance, all keeping an eye out for both you and Fox. Finally, it seemed that the first part of the plan was falling into place. 

Feigning interest in whatever Sinker and Boost were telling him about, Thorn watched out of the corner of his eye, where you were being approached by Commander Wolffe. “I just have to say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more beautiful than you,” he said. “What’s your name, because I’m sure it’s just as perfect.” 

Your eyes widened, and Thorn chuckled to himself. Wolffe could be a charmer when he wanted to be, and he had apparently not come to play around tonight. You responded to his question, seeming to have recovered from the surprise rather quickly, and the two of you fell into conversation. 

Thorn couldn’t watch the two of you the whole time without giving away the fact that something was up, so he continued to chat with Sinker and Boost, until eventually he noticed Fox across the room, with a glass of wine in his hand and a tense look on his face. 

A quick glance back at you and Wolffe proved fruitful, you were laughing at something he had said to you, and soon the two of you were walking away from the party together. 

Fox looked annoyed, and there was no way anyone who knew the situation could deny that he was jealous. But this was only the first test, and Thorn knew he was too stubborn to crack on the first shot. He would have to endure more, and they had plans in place for that.

He didn’t see you again for a while, but he passed Wolffe on the way to the bar, and they shared a knowing look. “Well?” Thorn asked. 

“She turned me down,” was the response, and that was exactly what he wanted to hear. “Said she didn’t know me well enough to accept my marriage proposal. Did he see us?” 

Thorn nodded. “It’s all falling into place.” 

“Excellent,” was the response, and Wolffe’s name was called by a few members of his squad. Before he left, he turned to Thorn. “Hey, if this whole thing with Fox doesn’t work out, let me know, because she’s really something special.” 

Thorn just laughed in response. He was pretty sure his plan was going to work, but it was nice to know that Wolffe had taken a liking to you, because you really did deserve the best. 

The next time Thorn caught sight of you, it was Kix that you were conversing with. You had spent quite a bit of time with the 501st legion, so you knew pretty much all the troopers there well, and you were close with Kix. He was the only one that Thorn hadn’t been sure would agree to the plan, but once they had updated him about the situation on Coruscant, the medic had been more than happy to help out. 

Out of all the 501st troopers that Thorn knew personally, Kix was the most down-to-earth, so it wasn’t a surprise that his part of the plan wasn’t done with trumpets and fanfare. He didn’t see it happen, but he ran into you at the table with the snacks, and you had a puzzled look on your face. “Everything alright?” Thorn asked. 

“Yeah,” was your response. “Just some confusing stuff is happening tonight.” 

“Like what?” 

“I’ve been proposed to twice so far tonight, and I’ve barely finished my first drink yet.” 

Thorn tried not to let the smile on his face give him away, so his expression turned to one of false confusion. “And why is that so confusing?” he asked. “I’d propose to you too, if I thought I had a chance. You know what, I don’t care if I do or not.”  He gently took your hand and walked out into the hallway, where he got down on one knee. “I may not have a ring, but will you marry me?” 

Startled, you stared at him. “Why?” 

“Can’t you see how much everyone here loves you?” was his response. “And I’m still waiting for your answer, by the way.” 

He knew what you were going to say. “I can’t-” 

“You can’t marry me, I know,” he said. “I get it, I’m too pretty.” 

The sound of your laughter reassured him that everything was going to be okay between you two. “That’s exactly it, I’m so glad you understand.”

By the time you went your separate ways, Thorn smiled to himself. 

He knew that Fox had watched him take your hand and pull you away from the party. It was only a matter of time before the commander snapped. 

***

Jesse was showier than Kix, and his proposal reflected that. Thorn watched as the ARC trooper spun you around the dance floor, both of you laughing at the moves of the other. From all of the stories that you had shared about the 501st, there were two clones that were pretty much constant presences in your adventures, and those two were going to be the last to propose for a very important reason. 

He watched as Jesse’s mouth formed the words “marry me” (or maybe it was “carry meat,” Thorn’s lip-reading skills were a little rusty) right after he dipped you, and your eyes widened in shock.  

“What is happening out there?” Fox’s voice interrupted Thorn’s observations. 

“I think he just proposed,” was Thorn’s casual response, and Fox’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. 

“What in Maker’s name would possess him to do that?” 

Thorn shrugged. “I don’t know, but when I was talking to her before, she said that like two others have proposed tonight as well. And then of course I had to throw my hat into the ring-” 

Now, the marshal commander of the Coruscant Guard looked like he was ready to hit something. “You what?” 

“Don’t worry, she turned me down,” Thorn said, unable to wipe the grin off his face. “But you still have some other competition in the 501st, so you really should make a move before it’s too late.”

Fox heaved a sigh. “How many times have I told you that I don’t have feelings for her like that?” 

“At this point sir, I’ve lost count, but I’m surprised you’re not tired of lying yet.” 

“I’m serious-” 

But whatever Fox was about to say was interrupted by a commotion nearby as you and Jesse walked back towards the 501st, right past where Thorn was standing. “She turned me down!” Jesse had called to Kix, who was watching with an amused smile on his face. 

“Well obviously,” a new clone had entered the conversation, and Thorn just smiled as Fives stepped closer to where you were standing. “It’s because she’d rather marry me than any of you di’k-”

That was it for Fox. Without thinking of the fact that they were still in the middle of a party (and how much Thorn was going to make fun of him for lying about his feelings), Fox put down his drink, gently touching your hand as you passed by. When you turned to him with an inquisitive look on your face, he didn’t bother to respond before taking your face in both of his hands and placing a firm kiss on your lips. 

You melted almost immediately, and after a while, it was honestly a little inappropriate how passionately you and Fox had locked lips, considering you were still in the main room of the party. 

When you finally pulled apart (thankfully it was before Thorn had to take matters into his own hands), Fox looked a little bit sheepish. “I’m sorry,” he said, slightly breathless from the way he had just made out with you. “I shouldn’t have done that without asking, I just-” 

But instead of answering, you just leaned in to kiss him again. 

In order to avoid any pressing questions from either of you about his involvement in things that may or may not have been planned tonight (and honestly, it was getting a little weird to keep staring for as long as he had been), Thorn stepped away and headed over to the bar to get another drink. 

There, he found Captain Rex, a puzzled look on his face. “What-” 

“I think it’s better you just don’t ask.” 

He nodded. “You know what? I think you’re right.” 

After getting himself another glass of wine, Thorn looked around the room, catching the gazes of Hound, Stone, and Thire, who all raised their glasses at him. Mission accomplished was the unspoken phrase of the moment. 

He just hoped that the two of you didn’t mistake his office door for Fox’s if  you decided to sneak away from the party, because he really didn’t want to have to deal with that.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[wild-karrde]

hi Karrde!!! Congratulations on 800, you deserve every single one and more 🤩 you’re so talented and a bright, bold member of our community. The way you care for your characters, and how amazing your OCs are just blows me away!

If I’ve made it in before 20, can I request a ficlet please?

Fox + “what did you think was going to happen?”

Congratulations again 💙💙

AHHHHH THANK YOU SEV!!! YOU ARE TOO KIND AND I AM JUST GRINNING LIKE A FIEND!! Seriously, thank you SO MUCH for the kind words! I'm glad I can make some positive contributions!

I struggled with this one for a bit, but had a sudden idea that I wound up liking A LOT. I hope you do too!

Pairing: Commander Fox x gn!Reader

Rating: T

Warnings: language, some suggestive themes, Fox telling jokes

Word Count: 1.5k words

Your heart thunders in your ears as you race down the alley, already leaping for the chain link fence that blocks off the end of it, fingers digging into the metal to pull yourself up and over. Heavy footfalls slap the pavement behind you, and you tuck and roll as the duracrete on the other side of the fence breaks your fall. You slam into a trash bin, skinning your knees and bruising your shoulders. You’re already pushing yourself to your feet when you see a switch just to the left of the fence. 

Bingo. 

You scramble over to it, slapping on the power, and you hear the electricity in the links hum to life, making them glow and effectively cutting off your pursuers. A red light comes on at the top of the fence, warning anyone around that it’s electrified now, and that they should only touch the fence at their own peril. You kick a half-eaten fruit that had tumbled from the trash bin at it, and it sizzles satisfyingly when it makes contact with the fence. You grin as the familiar voice of a Coruscant Guard echoes down the alley from the direction you came from.

“STOP!” 

Three Corries skid to a halt on the opposite side of the fence. 

“I think she’s activated it sir,” one of the troopers states. 

He’s new.

“Oh, are you sure, Brick? Was the big fucking red light your first clue?” snarls the commander sarcastically, the telltale wings on his helmet glinting in the glow of the fence. 

You extend your middle finger haughtily as you back away from the fence. “Eat shit, Thorn!” You can’t help but grin to yourself as you round the corner. You hear him swear through his vocoder as you trot out of view. 

The bracelet that you’ve swiped off of one of the senators jingles in your pocket as you pull out the credit pouch you snatched off of her husband and begin tallying your score. You’re so absorbed in counting your credits that you don’t even notice the wall of red and white plastoid standing in front of you until you slam face-first into it. You fall backwards onto your ass, the credits bouncing across the pavement with a light tinkling noise as you stare up into the familiar visor of Commander Fox. His arms are crossed over his chest. 

He sighs, muttering your name under his breath. You grin. 

“Fancy meeting you here, Commander,” you tease. 

“Not as fancy as that jewelry poking out of your pocket,” he growls. 

“Oh this? I just picked this up for my uhhh grandmother. It’s her birthday tomorrow, and you know, she just loves her jewels," you lie, shoving the bracelet back in your pocket. He doesn’t move as he watches you clumsily try to scoop some of the credits back into the pouch.

“Am I to assume that credit pouch is for your grandmother also?”

“Yup. You know. In case she wants to get something else if the bracelet isn’t her style.”

“How nice of you to get it monogrammed for her with Senator Siil’s husband’s initials,” he says flatly. 

You wince as you finally note the flowery Aurebesh branded into the leather. “Grandma’s a uh… big fan of his work. As a senator's husband.” 

Fox leans down and offers you a hand, which you take. Like an idiot. He pulls you up before spinning you and pushing you against the wall, slapping a pair of binders on you. You tug at the restraints behind your back, shooting a glare over your shoulder.

“Oh, come on, Fox!” 

He spins you around. “What did you think was going to happen? That I was going to pat you on the ass and let you wander off to shake more people down?” 

You shrug, tongue poking between your teeth. “I mean, if you want to pat my ass, I wouldn’t be that opposed.” 

You can’t see his eyes, but you can practically hear them rolling in their sockets beneath his bucket. 

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And you find it endearing.” 

He scoffs. “Not the word I’d choose.” His hand clamps around your forearm as he starts to guide you out of the winding network of alleys. You walk slowly, dragging your last moments of freedom out. You’ve always enjoyed your chats with Fox on the way back to the station anyway, at least before he books you on a petty crime and sends you to lockup for a week or two. You’re pretty sure he likes your interactions too, as much as he’ll deny it. But he isn’t rough with you, and he's not making any effort to rush your pace. That’s all just you speculating though; his bucket does a good job of hiding what he’s actually thinking, which you suspect is the point.

You walk in silence for a few minutes, and you feel his grip on your arm loosen slightly. He knows you won’t run; you know when you’re caught. 

“So, Thorn’s gotten slower,” you note casually. 

He huffs what you think might be a laugh. Hard to tell with the way the helmet's vocoder alters his voice. 

“I’m serious," you insist. "Maybe tell him to lay off the beer and work more cardio into his routine.” 

“I’ll be sure to pass your feedback along.”

“Was that a joke, Commander?”

“Been trying them out every now and then.” 

You can’t help but snicker at that.

The silence resumes for a few more minutes, but this time, he’s the one to break it. 

“Why do you always come here to pickpocket? You know we’re all over the place with all of the rich assholes walking around. The marks may be high-reward, but you can find plenty of Coruscant’s most wealthy in the lower levels, sleazing it up with less savory types. You'd probably have a better shot at getting away too.” 

“Thanks for the tip,” you snipe. “I’ll be sure to keep it in mind for my future criminal endeavors.” 

His grip on your arm tightens enough to stop you. “I’m serious,” he says, the exasperation in his voice clear. He shakes his head before raising his visor to look at you. “Look, things are starting to get a little more harsh up here. With the level of petty crime increasing as the war goes on and who it's impacting the most, there’s a push to start doling out harsher punishments. You’re going to land yourself more than a week in lock-up if you keep adding to your record. I’m talking years in prison.” 

You wish you could see under his helmet right now. You’re studying his visor carefully, looking for any sign as to what’s led to this concern for your well-being. 

“I like it up here,” you reply. 

“Why?” 

You shrug, trying to hide the heat in your cheeks. “I don’t know. Maybe I hope I’ll get to see more of a certain commander when he arrests me.” 

“Thorn hates you, just so you know.”

“I’m not talking about–”

“I know. That was another joke.” 

You stare at him blankly for a moment before you burst out laughing loudly. You could swear some of the tension leaves Fox’s shoulders as he watches you, his helmet tilting to one side. 

“That’s good. You’re getting good, Fox.” 

He nods, and you think he might be a little proud. His fingers flex nervously at his sides. “You said it was Thorn that lost you?”

“Yeah him and a couple of shinies. Why?”

You can see Fox considering something, something that makes him nervous, something wildly out of character for him. He reaches forward, spinning you to face away from him, and you feel the binders click loose. You bring your hands to your front, rubbing your wrists as you whirl to face the commander of the Coruscant Guard, who’s tucking his binders back on his belt. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” you ask, completely gobsmacked. 

He shrugs. “Thorn cheated at sabacc last week and still won’t own up to it. I like the idea of being able to hold this over his head and give him shit about it.” 

“Won’t you get in trouble?”

“Only if you keep standing here talking to me.” 

You grin, stepping forward and standing on tiptoe so that you can boldly place a kiss on his bucket. You pat the side of it as though it were his cheek. “Thanks, Fox.” 

His hand catches yours as you step away. “If you really want to see more of me,” he says quietly, “just come to the 79s and ask me on a date. Less paperwork and binders involved that way.” 

"But what if I like the binders?"

"I save those for at least the second date," he deadpans.

Heat flushes across your face at his offer. You poke a finger into his chest plate, trying to recover your footing with him. “Fine, but you’re buying.” 

He tosses you the credit pouch, which you clumsily catch. “Nope. The Senator’s husband is. But I’d get rid of that monogrammed pouch.” 

You playfully salute him. “Yes, sir.” 

He nods again before turning on his heel, disappearing into Coruscant’s fading light. 

Thanks for participating in my 800 Follower Celebration!

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @gjrain20-starwars @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @extrahotpixels @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @kmeekaielmyerhs99 @kaminocasey @echos-girlfriend @lucyysthings @obihiddlenox @merkitty49 @littlemissmanga @clonecyaree @baba-fett @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @samspenandsword @babygirlrex0504 @ladytano420 @fxlsealarm @runforrestr @rennyboo9 @djarrex @corrieguards @the-cantina @witchklng @gelflet @wolffegirlsunite @teletraan-meets-jarvis @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

[wizardofrozz]

you got time for smut with your favorite clone in gray sweatpants? 👀

Golden Hour

Commander Fox x fem!reader

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: NSFW +18, smut (this is basically just sleepy, morning filth)

A/N: I was stuck between posting this or an angsty Thorn request but I just couldn't resist lol. Thank you Clara for the request that led to this 👀

It had been a long night. Drinks with Fox’s brothers always ended with too much alcohol, not enough water, and at least one of the commanders in the drunk tank. Thankfully, Fox hadn’t been the commander spending the night sobering up with Stone and his unimpressed stare. 

Wolffe was going to be pissed when he came to. 

You blinked at your steaming caf, willing your head to stop pulsing in time with the ticking chrono across the room. A speeder swerved too close to your apartment building, the blaring horn drawing your scowl. The temptation to wander back to bed was almost strong enough to make you move until you heard shuffling from the hallway. Hangover or not, you still swooned a little when he stepped through the doorway. 

Frankly, Fox was a fucking mess. His eyes were barely open and his curls looked fuzzy as he absently scratched at his stomach. It was disgustingly adorable and you were overcome with the urge to squeeze his face. A soft grunt had your eyes refocusing on his face, and a dark brow arched when your eyes met his. 

“Caf,” you mumbled, waving lazily to your right. Fox grunted again, shuffling into the kitchen and glaring down at the empty mug. You leaned into his side only to blink when your forehead met warm skin, shifting to look up. Fox had turned his head, half-lidded eyes staring down at you, his brows pulled together in confusion. 

You leaned away, letting your eyes drift across the width of his shoulders, finally taking in his attire or lack thereof. Fox’s favorite worn sweatpants sat low on his hips, your eyes following the subtle curve of his hips that disappeared under his waistband. The sudden carnal need to trace them with your tongue felt like a gut punch. 

“What?” Fox rumbled, lazily curling an arm around your waist. Your head was still fuzzy with sleep and leftover alcohol but the slow-growing arousal warming your skin was helping to sharpen your thoughts. Fox’s perplexed expression never changed as your eyes trailed over his soft stomach before settling on the faint outline of his cock. Even soft, you could still make out the shape through the gray fabric and you idly wondered if Fox was even aware of it. 

“Hey,” Fox huffed, gently shaking you, “what’re you doin’?” The scowl he wore was dulled by his still slightly red cheeks and the creases left behind from his pillow.

“Admiring the view,” you hummed, a small smirk lifting the corner of your lips. Your eyes fell to the waistband of his pants again until a finger hooked under your chin, tipping your head back, forcing you to meet Fox’s dark eyes. 

“My eyes are up here, cyar’ika,” he mumbled, the ghost of a smile on his lips. Maybe it was a lingering buzz but you were captivated by the pet name, zeroing in on the way his mouth formed the word. 

“Mm, true,” you chuckled. With a boldness that surprised even you, you curled two fingers under the band of his sweatpants, tugging hard enough that Fox stumbled closer, pinning you against the counter. “But what I want is here.” 

The response was immediate, the material clinging to his now half-hard cock; a breathy chuckle passed your lips when it twitched under your gaze. 

“Maker,” Fox breathed, the hand that had been holding your chin moving to rest around the base of your throat, his empty mug abandoned in favor of more interesting things. “It’s 8 in the morning.”

“Need I remind you of the night after that prison riot,” you teased, gently playing with the hair just under the fabric. He immediately ducked his head, the color in his cheeks becoming even more apparent and you smiled, tugging on his waistband again. 

“Could’ve told me to piss off,” he huffed, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Do I look like an idiot to you?” Fox rolled his eyes but his top lip twitched, giving him away. You leaned closer, a shiver zipping down your spine when the fingers around your neck tightened slightly, and paused just before your lips found his. “I think you wore these on purpose.” 

“Too hungover to think clearly enough for that,” Fox countered, sounding a little breathless, “although, now I’m glad I did.”

“I can tell,” you giggled, finally curling your hand around his hard length. It sounded like the air had been punched from his lungs, his breathing picking up as you appreciated the velvety texture. Fox bucked into your hand, apparently unbothered by your dry palm or secretly liking the harshness of it. Fox tightened his hold on your throat just enough to pull you into a lazy kiss, clumsily fucking into the tunnel of your fist. 

“May - Maybe I should wear ‘em more often,” Fox mused, panting into your mouth. His hips started moving fast, with more purpose as he chased his release.

“Hold on,” you whispered, loosening your grip, making him whine in the back of his throat. It seemed to take momentous effort but his hips slowed to a stop and you leaned in, rewarding him with a languid kiss that made him throb in your hand.

“You okay? Wanna stop?” Fox managed around labored breaths.

“No,” you hummed, pecking his lips once more before tilting your head down. You pulled the elastic away, gathering saliva in your mouth, crossing your fingers that Fox hadn’t caught on yet. 

“What a - ah.” Your spit rolled down the length of his cock, allowing your hand to glide easily over his skin, turning Fox’s soft noises into full-blown moans. With a bit of coaxing, Fox rolled his hips again, his forehead dropping against yours.

“Feel good, love?” you purred, dragging your nail lightly over his flexing pec.

“Fu - fuck, yeah, yeah,” Fox stammered, aiming to kiss you again only to gasp against your lips. “I - I’m - shit - so close.” 

“Cum for me,” you nearly pleaded, lightly squeezing him. Fox unraveled in record time, gasping out a string of curses with your name mixed in as his thrusts turned shallow. You slowly released him, pecking his lips when he groaned at the loss, and stifling a giggle when he winced as his sweatpants snapped back into place.

“Yeah, that’s not comfortable,” he huffed, working to catch his breath.

“Sorry,” you replied with a small shrug, not feeling guilty in the slightest. Fox’s lashes fluttered, his eyes finally opening to meet yours and you smiled, sweet yet a little mischievous. His lips parted, most likely ready to ask what you were doing only for his jaw to go slack when you brought your hand to your mouth. The greedy drag of your tongue made his pupils grow, his eyes glued to his cum sitting on your tongue. 

You were almost finished cleaning off your fingers when his restraint snapped. Fox surged forward, groaning when he tasted himself on your tongue, dominating the kiss as he pressed you into the countertop. 

“My turn for a taste,” Fox growled, depositing you onto the counter with little effort. Your stomach swooped when he dropped to his knees, a faint smirk on his lips. Maybe you would go out with his brothers more often if this was what you had to look forward to in the morning. 

Taglist: @techs-feral-wife @a-single-tulip @homie-one-kenobi @rain-on-kamino

[sinfulsalutations]

CONGRATULATIONS!!!!! You deserve all the followers because you always bring the best energy to the dashboard. Thots with Nour is one of the best things in our fandom 😎 And the smut you pull off in class remains undefeated 🌟

if I may be so bold as to request Fox + 20. “You seem more sensitive than usual.” 👀

Congrats again!!! 💙💙

➼ ɴᴏᴜʀ'ꜱ 500 ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜱᴇᴠ 🥹 ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ꜰᴏx ꜱɪᴍᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ, ɪᴍ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ʜɪꜱ ᴇꜱꜱᴇɴᴄᴇ.

➼ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ☆ "ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴇᴇᴍ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ꜱᴇɴꜱɪᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴜꜱᴜᴀʟ"

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ꜰᴏx x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ, ᴅʀʏ ʜᴜᴍᴘɪɴɢ, ɢʀɪɴᴅɪɴɢ, (ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ) ʜᴀɪʀ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 509

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

Fox is stressed today. You can feel it in how he kisses you, presses your body firm to his until your space is no longer your own. He takes long, deep breaths, taking in your scent until it’s entirely intoxicated in his veins, and you let him, stroking a strand of his curly hair and tucking it behind his ear. 

He sucks in air through his teeth, running his mouth over your jaw as you slowly brush his hair away from his face. There’s something so palpable in his actions, yet you can’t help but feel a little small. Easy to be swayed and moved by his every action and command as he pleases or wishes you to be. You like that about him, you’ve come to realize. Though when he’s been pent up, pushed to his limits, and stressed out like this, there’s a new layer of fragility with him. Any touch of yours can instantly send him into an all-consuming state.

You decide to tease him about it. Shallowly running your fingers through his hair again, you nip at his bottom lip and pull him in with your legs, encouraging him to rest his weight on you.

“You seem more sensitive than usual.”

Fox blinks, rather amused by your choice to jest, but decides to ignore it. In this case, that means huffing and kissing you hard and slow again, rocking his hips so his hard, clothed cock runs over your center. You gasp, pleased.

“`Just need you, that’s all, cyare.”

You’re bucking your hips up, gently whining while you try to feel more of him through his blacks. It’s so restricting, too restricting; how has he not been tempted by the heat of unyielding want and stripped down already, taken you hard and rough and fast like he needs?

Steady eyes trace your body, scorching a path for his hands to follow. He takes your hips, pins them to the bed firmly, gazes fixed onto the connection. He slowly undulates forward again, feeling the way you squirm and twitch; no doubt in your panties you’ve begun to clench around nothing.

“If you need me so bad…” You whine, biting your lip as you try to hold back another whine. Another wave of shivers crashes onto you. “...Why don’t you just take those karkin’ blacks off already?”

Fox chuckles but indulges with your request. It’s not long before the undergarments are thrown to the floor and your panties are pulled off, his hands pushing the cups of your bra down to squeeze and tug. Your hands take their own path, grabbing onto his cock and smiling coyly at how it twitches, how he groans softly and pushes his hips in your direction. You rub up and down, once, twice, before running your thumb over the tip. Your other hand holds the back of his hair and you bring him to your face.

He kisses you again with a weak groan. You tug his hair. Another shiver.

Fuck, you like having this much of an effect on him.

tags: @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dukeoftheblackstar @meshlaxbunny @kimiheartblade @followthepurrgil @wolffegirlsunite @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @aconstructofamind @padawancat97 @littlemissmanga @starqueensthings @anxiouspineapple99 @freesia-writes @wings-and-beskar @clio3kantarella @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @dystopicjumpsuit @mandos-mind-trick @ladyzirkonia

[anxiouspineapple99]

Gargoyle Guard

Gargoyle! Fox x Reader

Warnings: Fox is a Gargoyle, but not in a traditional sense. Instead of beast and statue, it works a little different, it's explained in the fic. Technically breaking and entering (But Fox ends up being fine with it), accidental marriage, use of the word "mate" a few times. Fox thinking he's scary and not lovable, sexually suggestive, Reader has little self-preservation, Reader is much more accepting that they really ought to be. Reader is female. Kinda angst for the guard as a whole. THIS BITCH BE LONG

You had heard the stories, the tall tales of the Courascant guard.

How they were rarely seen during daylight hours.

Why there were 2 sections of the guard. Those that patrolled and those that stayed close to their buildings.

The rumours never made much sense when considering the guard as a whole...you'd seen the red armoured men out and about during the day. But the ones that had spoken of the phenomenon only pertaining to the inner group of the guard, the ones most people would never see, well they had called your attention.

Which is why you were out, sneaking around the guard's buildings and trying to get inside. You'd had enough of these questions floating around your skull, you needed to know.

And you needed to know, now.

You huffed as you pulled yourself up into the window sill, pausing to look about once more. Squinting in the sun's harsh rays, you saw nobody nearby. As usual, the guard was nowhere to be seen. You then pulled at the window... but when it didn't open, you banged against it. Then, using your butt, swung with all your weight into the glass.

Only to have it swing open.

You fell back into the square cavity with a shriek. A cloud of dust plumed about you, causing you to hack and wave your hand furiously. But as realization hit you, you quickly covered your mouth and darted behind a crate. That was a lot of noise, anyone nearby would be coming over to investigate.

You waited with your heart thrumming in your ears for what felt like decades, but the door to the room never opened.

You peeked around the crate and glanced around the room. It was filled with filing systems and looked ancient. Clearly nobody had been in here in at least a decade. Standing with a grunt, you tiptoed to the door, then opened it.

While sunlight permeated the old file room you'd broken into, the hallway beyond the door was dim at very best. Surprisingly, the walls were lined with candle-torches and low-intensity lamps, but it was still darker than you would prefer.

You glanced either way, trying to gather which way would be best to try. However, there was only so far you could see before it became dark void. With a shrug, you closed your eyes,spun then started walking in the direction you were facing when you had stopped.

You walked around for what must have been hours.

There was nobody in this building!

You were sure of it!!

You'd opened so many doors, looked in so many closets, under desks...everything! There were no people to be found.

"This was stupid" you sighed deeply leaning against one of the desks, your brow raising as your eyes landed on a cup of caf

"That would be an extreme understatement"

You screeched, jumping damn near out of your skin and promptly whirled around. Darkness was still very much all encompassing and obscuring your vision. However, you could make out the silhouette of a person just in the darkness enough that you couldn't figure out anything else about him

"U-uh"

"Coming over and breaking into the main building of the central policing force of the captial? In broad daylight as well?"

You couldn't tell if the voice was amused or scolding, maybe both

"You've got to be the most ridiculous nat-born I've ever heard of, and as a commanding officer I've seen and heard of plenty"

"C-comanding officer...?" you stammered out "Uh, listen...I-"

"Oh don't be shy now" the voice teased, definitely amused now "You've been rooting around in our stuff for 3 hours without a shred of fear"

"I wasn't rooting around!"

"Oh, and what do you call what you were doing?"

"Invesitgating" you mumbled feeling embaressment flood your system

"And what, pray tell, are you investigating"

Your eyes darted around the silhouette, trying to desperately pick out something more than an outline

"How come" you steeled yourself, it was now or never "How come the guard doesn't come out during the day?"

The individual seemed a bit taken aback by your question, if the silence was anything to tell by, but with a scoff answered you

"There are plenty of men out during the day, I made sure there were so-"

"So it wouldn't raise suspicion over those in the inner circle"

You could have sworn you heard a growl, something dark and testy...something inhuman

"And why...would you think something like that...?"

The figure imposed upon you, closer and closer until you were trapped against the desk.

You stared with large eyes at the form as it came into view with the dim light. What you originally thought was a cloak of sorts, was instead wings. Once presumed human legs, were now seen to be digitigrade - resembling ones like those of a Lasat. And swaying behind it, a long thick tail.

Your gaze trailed up the bare chest before you to narrowed, glaring eyes and barred teeth with...were those fangs?

"Answer me" it demanded

"People talk everywhere, the hell have you been?!" you yelled back, although you couldn't help your knees knocking together. Your body overcome by uncertainty and curiosity.

The creature, man? Thing?- cursed under its breath, tilting its head away from you.

Your gaze flitted to the claw like hooks joined at its collar, keeping the wings cloak-like

"Curious...?" Came their snarky tone

"Yeah" you shot back, raised a hand between the two of you and reached for its chest.

Then you paused just shy of its skin.

"Afraid of me now?" it taunted, but you didn't miss the tone carefully hidden behind the verbal shield

"..." you looked up to its dark, honeyed eyes and looked between them before you opened your mouth to ask "Can I touch you...?"

The being before you leaned back as if startled by your politeness, the cage of its arms no longer as defined, and let its jaw go slack - but only for a moment before it snapped shut with a frown.

One clawed hand reached towards your own, grasping your wrist and pulling it to its chest. The flesh was cool, but not frigid, as it heaved under your fingers. You could feel the pounding beneath the skin, it's racing heart betraying its outwardly behaviour.

You stood up properly, now crowding the creature as your other hand followed suit, trailing along the grey skin to the hook-like claws at its collar and following the appendage that draped around its shoulders. Your curious eyes eating up every detail, every speckle in its skin, every minute twitch it made at your exploration.

"Satisfied?" it growled

"Not yet" you mused, eyes glancing back at its own and shifting your attention to its face.

Your exploring hand touched its cheek, which it begrudingly leaned into, then trailed delicately across its nose, jaw, chin then lips.

"You're...not afraid of me" it mumured against your finger

"You don't seem that scary to me..." your eyes flicked away from its lips to those honey pools. Then you told it your name.

It hummed then mimicked you, your finger still against the soft flesh as it moved to make your name.

"My name is Fox, Marshal Commander of the Courascant Guard"

You blinked in surprise

"Weren't expecting the Marshal Commander to look like this, did you?" he grumbled

"Well...not really..." you confessed softly "What, are you exactly...?"

Fox huffed and, with surprising delicate motions, removed your hands from his body to step back and give you space.

You would be lying if you said you didn't miss the close proximity already.

"This...might take a while to explain" he groaned, a clawed hand pressing to his forehead as he gestured for you to sit while he turned away "You want a cup of caf?"

"Sure" you shrugged glancing around to find a spot to sit, and settled on the desk itself upon not finding anything but the chair.

Fox returned a few minutes later, holding two steaming cups and giving you an amused smirk

"Didn't like my chair?" he asked handing one of the mugs to you with a soft warning

"No, just didn't want to take your seat" you smiled back taking the cup into your hands.

You watched Fox round the desk, his tail trailing almost limp on the floor behind him, before he all but dropped into his chair. He took a long sip then sighed, staring up at you

"I'm a Gargoyle, rest of the higher ups in the guard are too" he grumbled softly.

You sat and eagerly listened as he explained himself and his brothers. How normally they'd turn to stone during the day and at night appear as humans. How they protect against evil, it's in their very base nature, and why he wasn't stone now.

"Sooo..." you drawled out with a pout "You have to be awake in that form because there's evil nearby but you have no idea what it is?"

Fox nodded, finishing off his caf before he spoke again

"That would be the gist of the situation, yes"

You hummed in thought with furrowed brows

"Wait, so where is everyone else?"

The man-gargoyle before you scowled and swiveled away from you

"They're gone"

"What do you mean? You can't do all this on your own" you reasoned, leaning forward to swat at the back of the chair in attempt to latch onto it

"I don't know where they are" came the quiet and hurt reply.

You froze at the fragile tone

"One day, they were just gone. It was only me from then on - well until you broke in like an insane person"

"I am not insane"

The chair swiveled back to face you, Fox giving you a disbelieving grin.

But as he did so, you lost your balance and tumbled straight into his lap.

"Well, that's twice you fell today...should we be worried about brain damage?"

You squeaked and scrambled up, only to feel his hands on your hips to steady you

"You knew about that?!"

"I told you I watched you rummaging around..." he said with a raised brow

"Right" you grumbled

Fox studied you for a moment, then gently pulled you closer to him. Settling you snugly in his lap and close to his chest.

"You really aren't afraid of me" he mused more to himself than to you

"I said I wasn't" you pouted

"Forgive me for not believing you" he rolled his eyes, one clawed hand leaving your side to smooth through your tresses "I suppose, you'd like to leave"

You frowned at the sadness hidden in those words but was so evident in his eyes

"I...could stay longer" you offered "Not like there's anyone waiting for me"

He raised a brow at you

"Someone as beautiful and strangely endearing as you has nobody? That hardly seems right"

You shrugged

"Would you prefer I did?"

A low growl emitted from his throat

"I would rather not"

"See, I thought so" you smiled teasingly "I will eventually need to go home" you reminded softly

"You could stay here" he offered quickly, then cursed at himself

"You want me to stay here? You barely know me" you giggled

Fox huffed at you

"You aren't afraid of me, you had the guts to break in here, and you have been nothing but kind - excuse me for enjoying the company"

Your gaze softened at his admission. You weren't sure exactly why you weren't frightened by his form, nor why you felt the need to be close with him. You'd known him for less than a day and you felt so intrinsically drawn to him it was maddening. You reached both hands forward and touched his cheeks then pressed your forehead sweetly against his, with a hushed-

"Hey, if you need me to stay for a while, I guess I can do that. But, you'll have to let me go home and grab some things, I can't live off Caf and-" you gestured to the fabric tied at his hips "Whatever you want to call that wardrobe disaster"

Fox scoffed at you, but as you pulled away from him noticed his flustered state. His grey skin burning with pink and red hues and his gaze shifting to you breifly then back towards the darkness around you.

"What" you frowned "What's going on now?"

Fox swallowed thickly then took your hand in his, and laced your fingers.

You watched him with confusion and interest, squeezing his hand when he let out a soft gasp.

"You know..." he began softly "Something about you makes me feel a little more alive and far less alone"

You blushed at his endearing words

"Wow...that's...a lot, beautiful, but a lot" you giggled out flattered by his confession.

You then sighed and glanced at the chrono on his wall, gently untangling your digits from his and standing up

"If you want me to stay for a bit, you'll have to let me go home and get some things, alright?"

Fox looked a bit distressed as he fiddled and then stood abruptly

"I-I'll go with you"

You frowned and patted his arm

"You told me you can't go far from this place, it's not biggie. I'll be right back"

Your words didn't seem to settle his nerves. You weren't sure why he suddenly got all flustered and anxious for, but whatever. You'd chalk it up to a weird Gargoyle thing...or a weird Fox thing.

You started heading back to the file room you'd entered the building from, Fox trailing along behind you diligently. Once inside, he helped you climb into the window and then into the afternoon sun.

"You'll come right back" his words demanded but his tone pleaded

You shook your head with a smile

"I promise I'll be right back, don't worry. You're being pretty strange Mr. Commander." you teased easing out the window and landing on the ground with a bang "I'm fine!" you called to the window then headed home

You did as you said. Went home, grabbed a few things to keep you for a few days then headed back to the guard with a bag strapped to your shoulder. But this time, when you climbed through the window, you found the file containers had been moved to give you an easy way in and out. You smiled softly and made your way into the dark hallway and called out.

"I'm back, as promised!"

You let out a scream as you were suddenly scooped up and pressed to a warm, bare chest. Upon recognition crossing your mind you struggled and angrily swatted at your keeper

"Fox!! The hell!!!"

"Do you know how terrible it was waiting for you?!" he grumbled looking at you with a distressed gaze "Don't torment me like that...! What if something happened to you?"

You blinked at him

"Fox, I just went home and came back, chill out man"

Fox settled you down but continued to hover as he followed you, all the while grumbling to himself

"If you have something to say," you tossed your bag onto his desk "then just say it"

"How the kriff am I supposed to feel when my mate is out there on her own?!" he yelled waving his arm out into the darkness

"Your...WHAT?!" You gawked "I'm not your mate! I didn't agree to that!"

"Yes, you did!" he argued "Before you left!"

You frantically thought back but couldn't think of when you agreed to marry the commander

"No, I didn't!!"

"Yes, you did! Infact, you initiated it." he huffed crossing his arms over his broad chest

You stared at him, as if you were buffering, in disbelief

"No, I didn't" you urged feeling even more confused

"Yes...you did" his tone was softer this time as he closed the distance.

He took your hands and placed them on his cheeks then touched your foreheads and let them settle like that.

Your eyes widened as it dawned on you.

Oh shit...you really did.

He then pulled back with a hurt gaze and a frown. His hand connecting to yours and lacing your fingers

"...and...I accepted"

You took in a deep breath, feeling the room spin.

You didn't mean that...!

"Fox...I-"

"You...didn't know, did you?" he sighed deeply then pulled away "It's alright. I, uh, should have been more aware. I just got caught all up in the moment"

You frowned at his dejection.

Was it really that bad? You'd only known him today, but he seemed genuinely kind and had treated you with nothing but respect - even when he had no reason to do so. He was all alone too, and clearly had been for a long time. plus...it wasn't like you didn't feel anything towards him - quite the opposite really. And like you'd told him before, you definitely didn't have anyone at home waiting for you.

"I didn't know, you're right." you nodded, watching his shoulders slump further "But...it would be wrong for me to push you away"

"No, I won't hold you to being responsible for something you had no ide-"

You stepped into his space and took his hand, delicately

"It's alright..." you whispered staring up at him "I guess...having a husband wouldn't be all that bad...if he's as cool as you"

His head surged forward, pressing your foreheads together again as he squeezed your hand. His eyes were closed and his brows knitted with emotion.

You couldn't help but smile at his display, and closed your eyes as you leaned a bit further into the gesture.

Fox held you against him as a cracking sound filled your ears, but when you went to open your eyes, they were promptly covered.

"Don't look yet" his voice was soft and sounded just a touch different than before.

A few minutes of waiting made you grow anxious. Your hands grasped his hand covering your field of view only to quickly let go feeling his claws missing.

Fox chuckled as he moved his hand and waited for your response.

You opened your eyes, one at a time in unsurity, to meet the form of a man.

A normal man.

"Uh...."

"Don't worry, it's still me" Fox urged gently "Is...is this okay? Am...I okay?"

You blinked in surprise. Your eyes roaming across the muscular bronze skin littered in tiny scars. He held the fabric to himself, now too big for his body, but a steady blush rose to your cheeks seeing the line of hair travelling down into the area hidden by the fabric. You forced your gaze up to the smug yet bashful grin, dark hair and those same dark amber eyes.

"Well...if your reaction is anything to judge by..." he snorted

"Excuse you!!" you exclaimed quickly spinning around

"I'd much rather you like what I look like than not" he chuckled wrapping his arms around your form and his chest pressing against your back

"A-ah...your blanket-thing" you stammered

"I tied it, don't worry" he mused his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck "Every night I return to this form...a version of me that can properly love you"

You blushed deeply, biting your lip, then blurted out before you could stop yourself-

"You could love me the way you were before"

Your newly accidentally-wedded-husband let out a soft but dark growl against your skin. Then spun you around.

Your breath hitched only a fraction a second before his lips collided with your own. Melding against your set with passion and heat.

He crowded you backwards until your butt bumped into his desk, then reached around you to shove everything off it - the contents clattering loudly to the floor before he broke your kiss only to slowly and gingerly maneuvere you on top of it.

You gasped softly as he partially climbed above you, pinning you to the surface and immediately pressing his body to yours and capturing your lips again in feverish kisses.

You pulled back and smiled softly as he chased after you

"You know...why don't you let me help you find your broth-" your question being silenced with a gasp as his fingers tug into your thigh

"I knew you were perfect" he breathed against your lips "Now, Mesh'la, let me prove to you why you made a good choice"

You really meant it.

You were even more determined after your first night together that you were going to help Fox not only find his brothers, but rid the planet of the evil that kept him from being able to rest.

[nahoney22]

hey, honey! congratulations on 3000! you deserve it and so much more for your incredible work. could i possibly request fox with gn!reader and the prompt “why are you really here? to mock me? to... make me hate you more?” “no. none of that. i came to be a friend, because it really looks like you need one right now.” ? thank you, and i love you 3000 (lmao i think i'm hilarious)

3000 Prompt List Celebration

Commander Fox X GN!Reader

word count: 1.8k

SFW

Prompt:

“Why are you really here? To mock me? To make me hate you more?” • “No, none of that I came to be a friend, because it really looks like you need one right now.”

warnings: Gender Neutral reader, platonic or romantic relationship reader can decide. Slight angst. Reader stressed with Job and Fox being a difficult man but redeems himself.

authors note: so sorry for the wait. Enjoy. Love you 3000 💕

Working for the Coruscant Guard had been a dream come true for you personally, but the reality of the job proved far more grueling than expected. The constant barrage of files and responsibilities heaped upon your shoulders was enough to exhaust even the most resilient individuals.

Though despite the demanding workload, there were silver linings.

You managed to form friendships with some of the Corrie guards during your shifts. Surprisingly to you, they managed to keep their tempers in check, resisting the urge to smack a certain Supreme Chancellor who often pushed their limits.

And during the rare moments of respite when the workload lightened, you quite enjoyed your time being stuck in an office with a bunch of rowdy clones. Which is quite funny seeing as they’re meant to be the strictest of the lot.

However, such peaceful and carefree moments were interrupted by a certain Commander. When he entered the room it felt like life was sucked out of it.

For reasons unbeknownst to you, Commander Fox seemed determined to keep a watchful eye on your every move. He persisted in requesting double-checks of your work, even when you were confident of its accuracy. It felt as though he was intentionally trying to catch you off guard and embarrass you.

Nonetheless, you refused to fall to his tactics.

Inevitably, a day arrived when the mounting pressure became too much, and Commander Fox seemed to have the upper hand. Weariness weighed heavily upon you as you mustered the energy to address him once more. "Commander, I assure you, everything has been thoroughly checked and is accurate," you stated with a hint of frustration and a suppressed yawn. The lack of sleep over the past week was taking its toll on you.

Fox's piercing gaze intensified behind his visor as he swiped his finger slowly through the files, creating an almost agonising atmosphere. A nervous knot now formed in your stomach, sensing that something was wrong with doubt beginning to gnaw at you.

"I... I believe so," you replied, attempting to sound confident, but your wavering voice betrayed your uncertainty. The room that was once filled with silent chatter fell into a now hushed silence as the clones you worked alongside subtly tuned in.

Fox's chuckle, laced with a hint of mockery, only added to your growing unease. He seemed to relish the moment as he posed the pivotal question, "Then please tell me the date you had added to all these files?"

You took a steadying breath, trying to maintain composure. "Today's date," you answered firmly, as it was the truth.

Though you couldn't see his expression hidden behind the distinctive red helmet, you had a gut feeling that he was smirking. He handed the files back to you, and for a moment, he said nothing. The silence in the room was palpable, and everyone's attention was fixated on the exchange.

Then, in a commanding voice that reverberated through the room, Fox broke the silence. "Perhaps you should now triple-check the work you submit."

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air. You fought to remain composed, but beneath the façade, your nerves were fraying. Fox walked away, hands clasped behind his back and you could sense the watchful eyes of your fellow clones.

As soon as you realised your mistake, a sinking feeling washed over you, and frustration mixed with embarrassment began to build inside. All those files, painstakingly worked on, were now marred by a glaring error of you signing the wrong date. You couldn’t help but feel defeated.

The mounting tension in the room weighed heavily on everyone present as you finally snapped, unable to hold back your emotions any longer. "Do you have a problem with me?"

Gasps and sputtering sounds of someone spitting their caf everywhere echoed throughout the room as the unexpected outburst startled your colleagues. Their eyes darted between you and Commander Fox, unsure of how the situation would unfold. Fox, though surprised by the confrontation, halted in his tracks.

He turned around to face you, and you met his gaze through his visor with a glare that could pierce beskar. The tension grew even thicker, but to your surprise, Fox's response was not the belittling or combative reaction you had anticipated.

"Do your job properly, and then we won't have a problem," he retorted sternly, maintaining his composure. His words cut deep, but they were not entirely unjustified. You knew that he had high expectations for the members of the Coruscant Guard, and your error had obviously fallen short of those standards.

His next words, however, were what stung the most. "I expect you to stay here after your shift and correct all 700 reports you did wrong." And with that, he left.

You were in for a long night.

As your weary eyes struggled to remain open, you lost count of the files and reports you corrected during the hours that stretched far beyond the end of your shift. The weight of exhaustion bore down on you, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, sleep finally overpowered you. Your head fell onto your arms, the makeshift pillow offering a moment of rest.

You had no idea how long you had dozed off but the rustling sound nearby gradually pulled you back to consciousness.

Blinking your eyes open, you were met with the sight of a pair of gloved hands adorned with red armor along the arm. A very familiar colour. It took a moment for your drowsy mind to register who was sitting beside you, but when recognition struck, it felt like someone shot a cannonball to your head.

"W-what are you doing here?" you stammered, quickly sitting up and attempting to arrange the scattered files neatly, hoping to convey that you had not just been sleeping on the job. Yet, glancing at the time on one of the control panels, you realised with a sinking feeling that you had managed to nap for at least an hour.

The figure beside you, none other than Fox himself, remained impassive behind his helmet, his expression unreadable to you. He had caught you at a vulnerable moment, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of embarrassment.

Before you could utter any further explanation or apologise for your unintentional nap, Fox finally spoke in his usual stern tone. "I came to see your progress," he said simply, giving no indication of whether he was displeased or approving of what he had observed.

You straighten your posture, trying to shake off the residual fatigue and regain your composure. "I've been working to correct the mistakes.” You attempt to inform him but he says nothing.

As you both continued working in an oddly comfortable silence, the initial shock of finding Commander Fox assisting you in correcting the files lingered in the back of your mind. He seemed entirely engrossed in the task at hand, efficiently working through the documents you had messed up, and you couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't woken you. Moreover, the sight of the multiple cups of caf nearby suggested that he had been there for quite some time.

After a few minutes passed, your curiosity got the better of you, and you mustered the courage to break the silence. "Why are you really here? To mock me? To make me… hate you more?"

Fox paused momentarily, sitting up straight and finally turning his head to look at you. The visor of his helmet was still impassive, but there was a sense of sincerity in his response that caught you off guard. "I'm here because I really enjoy filling out files," he said flatly.

Though, he actually was offering a hint of humor, it didn't seem to elicit the response he might have hoped for.

He sighed, and for a brief moment, you wished you could see his face to gauge his expression better. "No, none of that. I came to be a friend, because it really looks like you need one right now," he admitted candidly.

The unexpected exchange between you and Commander Fox revealed a side of him that you hadn't anticipated. While you initially wanted to dismiss his offer of friendship, you couldn't deny that his actions spoke louder than his strict demeanor. He had shown a level of kindness and consideration you hadn't seen before, and it made you reassess your perceptions of him.

"I was not aware that you hated me. This kind of information should be passed on so we can move you to an environment you are more comfortable in," he mentioned, sounding genuinely surprised. You realized that perhaps you had been too quick to assume hostility in his actions without fully understanding his intentions.

"Okay, maybe hate wasn't the right word to use, Commander, but I just always feel like you're harder on me than others," you admitted, acknowledging that your feelings might have influenced your perception of him.

Fox turned to face you fully, and the swiveling chair made a soft sound as he did so. "Naturally, I have to be strict with beginners. It’s how I was treated when I first started out. However, I can now see that the workload has had an impact on your sleep," he explained, offering an understanding perspective.

You felt a bit embarrassed by your moment of vulnerability but appreciated his attempt at openness. "I'm so sorry for falling asleep," you apologised, still feeling a sense of responsibility for your earlier mistake.

He waved away your apology, putting you at ease. "No need. I would have woken you if someone of high importance was to enter. Also, don't think I haven't nodded off once or twice while working," he admitted with a hint of humor, surprising you with his forthrightness.

Your smile grew, and you felt an actual change between you both. "Really? Ever got caught?" you inquired.

"Of course not," he chuckled, his amusement infectious. He then tapped his helmet lightly, explaining, "That's why I wear this. It scares some of the shinies when they show up here, though. They just think I'm glaring at them nonstop when I'm actually catching up on some lost sleep."

You chuckled at the image, realising that even the seemingly unyielding Commander Fox had his moments of vulnerability. "You don't sleep much?" you asked, looking back at the multiple cups of caf by his side.

"Can't you tell?"

The two of you continued with this surprisingly good small talk and it comes to no surprise to you that some of his brothers had offloaded their work unbeknownst to you onto you.

You could definitely feel the tension between you both fade as you continued in through the night and you couldn’t help but feel like a bond was formed when he gently pushed a cup of caf in your direction.

Masterlist

Prompt Works

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @blustalker @by-the-primes @the-bad-batch-baroness

[ladyzirkonia]

Heavy Rain - Part 1

Summary: Long-standing tensions with Commander Fox reach a breaking point, when some regretful decisions lead to a chase through the rainy nights of Coruscant.

Pairing: Commander Fox x Doc!Fem!Reader, feat. juicy Jesse 😎

Tags & Warnings: violence (police violence?), strong language, discrimination

Word Count: around 1.000

author's note: I know I really wanted to write smut (I'm fucking trying) but I got carried away and because this got a little bit to long there will be a two parter. Building up the tension for the release. 😏 I listened to this while writing.

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Coruscant

It was a rainy night on Coruscant, and you cursed inwardly as you almost slipped, sharply turning a corner and running into a dark alley. The rain had completely soaked your clothes, it's not like you had much on today anyway. You had been looking forward to a relaxing evening at 79's after a long, hard day of work. Jesse hadn't given up easily, and even though you were tired, that handsome son of a mudscuffer had managed to lure you out. Damn that stupid face, it was almost embarrassing how quickly you ran when he called. But could anyone blame you? You couldn't think straight when he looked at you with that certain gaze, confident and teasing. In that moment, you knew if you wanted to punch or kiss that stupidly handsome face. But instead, you pulled out your only going-out outfit from the closet and used the little makeup you owned. Hair? Oh, completely overrated, that had to do. After all, you had a Doctorate, he should admire you for your brilliant mind, and if not? Then he could go kriff himself.

But it hadn't come to any of that. You hadn't even gotten a kriffing drink, instead, you ran like crazy through the rain, a damn bad idea because you weren't the fastest, and certainly not the most athletic. And all of this because of that idiot in front of 79's who insulted you and Jesse. Being called a "slut who spreads her legs for clones" was one thing, something you could still ignore, but when he didn't stop ranting about the clones, claiming they weren't worth living, an insult to all real beings, and had no right to be treated like humans, that was all it took to make you snap completely.

You had to hear phrases like these far too often, and you had been working in the GAR and with the clones long enough that they made you furious instantly. These men were so loyal, each one you had met so far was unique and endearing in their own way - well, almost everyone - that the unfair treatment they repeatedly endured embittered and angered you. And that one idiot had to pay the price - just like his nose - when you brought him down with a well-aimed punch. Your medical training had helped, as you knew exactly how to break a nose precisely. Your bad luck was that the act didn't go unnoticed.

Of course, Commander Fox was patrolling EXACTLY tonight. Not just any of the Corrie Shinies or at least Commander Thorn, with whom you got along well. No, it had to be precisely the stern and often ill-tempered Fox, and you knew that you were in serious trouble. There had been tensions between you from the beginning. He liked to stick to the rules, and you... well, you were good at bending the rules of GAR protocol to suit your needs. The few encounters you had with the man usually ended in heated arguments. You were the little teasing shit who could annoy the hell out of him within five minutes, and he hadn't had anything in his hands against you - until today. And that's why you ran for your dear life now. You knew it was foolish, if he really had it out for you, you didn't stand a chance of escaping. But your instinct still said, "Run, just kriffing run." The last thing you saw was Jesse's amused and impressed face - well, maybe this would take your relationship to the next level - before you ran like crazy.

You ran for your life, hoping luck was on your side and that Fox hadn't bothered to follow you. Perhaps you had managed to escape. As you turned into the next dark alley, your relief turned into a loud curse. You had ended up in a dead-end, the street blocked by a high chain-link fence, and you had no chance of overcoming this obstacle. You weren't a Jedi or a trained soldier, so you could only frustratedly pound against the fence.

In the next moment, you heard a deep and all-too-familiar voice behind you, causing you to flinch. "Turn around slowly and put your hands up where I can see them," barked Fox, and you knew he had you right where he wanted you. "Seriously, Fox?! Kriff, you know damn well I don't have any weapons. What's the meaning of this?" you retorted angrily as you turned slowly and raised your hands, staring into his dark visor. You couldn't see his face, but damn, you could imagine his smug expression all too well, which only fueled your anger.

"Watch your filthy mouth, Doc. You're not in a position to make demands," he said in a far too calm tone, sending a shiver down your spine. "And now be a good girl and turn around, hands on your back," he continued, and for a moment, you considered going for him again, but kriff, it wasn't worth it. You loved your job despite everything, and you didn't want to lose it because of this mudscuffer. So you gritted your teeth in frustration and turned around slowly, crossing your hands behind your back. You felt Fox approach you, and you sharply inhaled as that sack of a bantha fodder got too close for your liking. His hard armor pressed into your back as he pinned you against the chain-link fence to put handcuffs on you.

"Kriff Fox, are you serious?! What the hell is this?" you exclaimed, your face pressed against the cold and wet chain-link fence. Your body trembled with anger - yes, it was definitely just anger, and maybe the cold - it had absolutely nothing to do with Fox invading your personal space.

"Language, Doc. And it's still Commander Fox for you. Your sens of respect has always been lacking," he said coldly, and you could only respond with a sarcastic laugh.

"Respect is something that has to be earned," you shot back.

"We will work on that," was all he replied - and you didn't know if it was a promise or a threat - before leading you away.

[fandom-friday]

This little fic by @vodika-vibes makes me wanna be the filling in a sleepy Fox and Wolffe sandwich so bad 😭😭 waking up to both of them all cuddly and hot would be a dream come true.

SO SAY WE ALL, ERIN. This is so soft and sweet with just the right amount of spice and implication. I love the sleepy cuddles that turn into something more, and with Fox AND Wolffe? AND BREAKFAST??? I'm all in. Love this one! Thanks so much for sending it in!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)