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wanderinginksplot · 7 months

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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

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“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.”

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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!

You can find other works on my masterlist or sign up for my taglist here. As always, I'm happy to remove you from the taglist if it's no longer in your interests.

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#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #reader insert #commander fox #coruscant guard #commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #fox x reader #fox x you #gn!reader #no use of y/n #fox day #cc 1010 #fic prompt #ink's fics

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anxiouspineapple99 · 6 months

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Queen of Hearts

Vampire!Fox x Fem!Reader

Summary: On your way home from work one early morning, you catch Fox drinking a man's blood in a back alley, and it changes your life forever.

Pairing: Vampire!Fox x Fem!Reader

Characters: Fox, Thorn, clone OCs

Tags & Warnings: 18+, NSFW, MonsterClone!AU, clone discrimination, clone rights, minor injuries, violence, murder, blood, angst, domestic fluff, mild sexual themes, non-sexual intimacy, erotic blood drinking, enemies to friends to lovers, reader can be considered demisexual, stalking

Word Count: 14.5k

Author's Note: This fic is dedicated to my beloved @starrrgazingbunny! She gave me the clone, the monster, and the prompt, which inspired this monstrosity of a fic. Haha, get it? Monstrosity? Monster? I'm hilarious. Anyway, I love you darling and I hope you like the fic 😘 As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: "Your eyes sparkle."

MonsterClone!AU Prompt: "I know what you did."

Fox’s boots rhythmically clack against the sterile tile floor of the GAR clinic as he strolls through the bright halls with his hands clasped neatly behind his back. It’s late, and he was sorting through an endless stack of data-pads when he received the comm that one of his Corrie Guards was injured on duty and undergoing medical treatment at the clinic. After the comm, he tossed his data-pad to the side and downed the rest of his cold caf before making his way to the clinic.

Fox hates receiving these comms because it’s always the same story. The natborns, who he swears are born with only one brain cell each, are cruel to his corries. Their apathetic dismissal of a clone's mere existence boils his blood. The clones never asked to be created and they surely never expected to be used, abused, and thrown out with the evening’s trash. They are flesh and blood men, his men, and he considers each one of their lives as his responsibility.

Fox lets his frustrating thoughts dissipate when he stops in front of the exam room door. The medic on duty, whose fingers are rapidly tapping on a data-pad medical chart, deviates from his rounds when he sees Fox with his arms crossed. Fox stays silent as he approaches, so the medic continues his data entry as he waits. Fox glances through the window of the door to get a small glimpse at the situation, then turns to address the medic. “What happened?”

The medic looks up from his data-pad and frowns. “He was breaking up a street fight on the lower levels when a natborn busted his nose and broke his arm.” The medic shakes his head. “Poor kid. It was his first night on patrol too.”

Fox sighs, thanks the medic, and dismisses him with a silent nod.

As the medic leaves, Fox opens the door and quietly slips into the exam room, hoping to go unnoticed. He leans back against the wall and crosses his arms as he observes another medic carefully tending to the corrie’s injuries. Fox slumps his shoulders and releases a heavy sigh as he assesses the bruises on the clone’s face. This is the fifth corrie he’s gone through this week and the trend is only getting worse. It’s mind-numbing to him, just how cruel the natborns are.

After watching for a few more seconds, Fox pushes himself off of the wall. He pulls his bucket off and sets it down on the counter, his loose curls cascading down to just above his eyes. He walks over to the exam table, taps the medic on the shoulder, and asks him to take a break. The medic nods and hands Fox the bandages and adhesive before exiting the room. Fox flicks his hair to the side and away from his eyes as he takes a seat on the stool in front of the injured clone.

“C-Commander,” the corrie stammers in surprise while scrambling to stand to attention.

Fox reaches up and places two firm hands on the clone’s shoulders to gently push him back down onto the exam table. “At ease, vod,” his voice soothes. “No need to get up. You’re hurt.”

“Y-Yes sir,” the corrie says, nervousness escaping his voice. It’s not every day a shiny gets a visit from their commander, let alone have them bandage their wounds.

Fox lets a small smile creep onto his lips. He always finds it endearing the way the shinies act around him. They think he’s some sort of celebrity being the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard, but in reality, he’s just an overworked, sleep-deprived, and overly-caffeinated bag of meat. There’s nothing about his existence that makes him feel worthy of their praise, at least, not when his men sit in the clinic wounded while he sits behind a desk doing data-work.

“What’s your name, kid?” Fox asks, his fingers working deftly to continue wrapping the bandage where the medic left off.

“Slapstick, sir,” the corrie says.

Fox chuckles at the name and tightens the side of the bandage.

Slapstick winces at the pain. “Apparently, I’m good at comedy, sir,” he jokes.

Fox grins. “You’ll have to tell me a joke when you’re better.”

“Will do, sir,” Slapstick smiles.

Fox makes quick work of wrapping the broken arm and gently gives it back. He grabs a cloth sling and fits it over Slapstick’s shoulder, making sure the elevation is correct for his arm to rest comfortably. Fox then grabs a few cotton pads and dabs them with alcohol to clean the blood off the corrie’s face and applies a bandage across his nose. When finished, Fox sits back in the chair and watches as Slapstick nurses his broken arm, a flash of emotion crossing his bruised face.

Fox frowns, rises from the chair, and places a firm hand on the younger clone’s shoulder. He peers into the shiny’s innocent, yet fearful eyes, and silently reassures him. “Do what the medics tell you, and you’ll be fine. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” Slapstick nods. “Thank you, Commander.”

Fox smiles with sad eyes. “You’re welcome, kih’vod.”

Fox turns away, grabs his bucket off the counter, replaces it on his head, and then exits the exam room. He softly shuts the door behind him and stands in the hallway for a moment to compose himself. He closes his eyes and exhales slowly to release the tension built up in his shoulders. They’re so young. He laments. The new shinies come in looking so full of life and eager to please their superiors. It catches him off guard every time he sees one of their youthful faces.

Being part of one of the earliest batches of clones, Fox feels old. The gray streaks running through the sides of his dark curly hair only serve to prove it. It’s ironic to him since his batchmates haven’t grayed yet, so it must be the stress. He and the shinies are only a few years apart in manufacture date, but the accelerated aging makes him feel as if he’s lived a lifetime. He wishes he could relive the days when he was a shiny. Back then, they didn’t even have names.

Fox still remembers being a fresh young clone and ready to serve the Republic. He was created as part of a batch of commanders bred to be leaders, with superior intelligence and bolstered strength. Little did he know what true horrors he and those under his command would endure. The constant ridicule by every lifeform walking the streets of Coruscant, the discrimination and litany of ‘no clones allowed’ signs on business storefronts, and the lack of human decency was, and still is, repulsive.

He didn’t ask for this post, one so far from the war. Yet, here he is, visiting the broken men under his command and taking every bit of their suffering personally. Each one who is spat on, belittled, cursed at, and dehumanized weighs deeply on his soul. At least on the battlefield they’d receive the respect they deserve. At one point, Wolffe warned him of being overly attached to his men, and Fox knew Wolffe had every right to speak about loss, but he still didn’t listen.

He internalizes all of their pain and lets it steep deep within him. His anger for the natborns burns white hot in the pit of his stomach. He decided long ago that there’s nothing good about a natborn. They’re all useless beings that sit on pious ideals and build their peace on the dead bodies of his brothers, stacking them like cheap bricks and using their blood as mortar. But now, he’s done letting the atrocities slide. He’s done watching his brothers suffer at their hands.

Fox straightens himself as his resolve settles within him. Purpose driven, he marches back to headquarters. He doesn’t bother turning the lights on in his dark office, the blue glow from his data-pad illuminates his face as he sifts through the new reports to find the one about Slapstick. He pulls up a holo-recording of the events and watches it with intent. He notes the location, and when he sees the natborn’s face, he tosses the data-pad onto his desk and leaves his office.

He knows what he needs to do, and he’s finally ready to act on his intentions. The guilt that has crept into him, knowing that he could have done something sooner, only propels him forward in his mission. As he nears the exit of the headquarters’ building, Thorn is waiting for him. Fox curses under his breath. He knows Thorn will try to stop him, try to talk some sense into him, but he doesn’t care. He’s done playing around, and if he has to go through his brother, he will.

Thorn crosses into Fox’s path and folds his arms. "And where are you going?"

"Out,” Fox answers as he steps to the side to go around him.

Thorn follows his movements, preventing him from advancing. "What? You've got a hot date or something?"

"Something like that," Fox mutters, trying to side-step him again.

"I know what you’re gonna do," Thorn says, blocking his brother again. “I can smell it. The lust.”

Fox grunts in frustration and forcefully pushes past his brother. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Thorn turns and catches Fox’s arm, his grip tight. "Whatever you think you're going to accomplish out there is only going to come back to bite you,” he warns. “You're gonna get caught!"

Fox smirks under his helmet. "Not if I bite first."

A small gasp escapes Thorn’s throat. He didn’t want to be right. He knew Fox was up to something malicious when he first caught a whiff of his altered scent, a shift so strong he could smell it from two klicks away. He refused to believe that his brother would go this far and intentionally put all of the commanders at risk by going rogue, but he was wrong. Fox is going through with it. In his brief shock, Thorn’s grip slacks enough for Fox to yank his arm out.

Fox, finally free of his brother’s blockade attempt, stalks off into the night to find his prey.

“Fox!” Thorn calls, desperate to get him to reconsider, but Fox doesn’t respond, and Thorn, powerless to stop him, watches as he slips into the shadows of Coruscant.

You let out an exhausted sigh as you finish up your shift at the diner. It’s been a long night, and you glance at the chronometer on the wall while stretching out your back. It’s 02:00 hours and almost time for you to go home. You don’t mind working the second shift, in fact, you enjoy being a night owl and sleeping during the day. The initial adjustment to your schedule was difficult, but now that you have a routine set, your body works just as well as it did in the daylight.

After bringing the remainder of the plates to the kitchen, you grab a to-go container and pile all of the leftover scraps into it, then pour what’s left from the caf carafe into a to-go cup. Your manager is a good person, and she lets you take food home at the end of your shift for dinner. It isn’t much, just what customers didn’t finish, but you’re always grateful. Once you have all of your things gathered and your leftover dinner, you wave goodbye to the rest of the staff and leave.

As you walk along the diner front, you frown at the bright circular neon sign. It has an image of a clone’s helmet in the center and a large red slash running through it. You don’t understand what people have against the clones because they seem human enough to you. Sometimes it bothers you to be working in such a discriminatory business, but you don’t have much of a choice. Most places of business are anti-clone, and it’s hard getting a job with one that’s clone-friendly.

You sigh, and continue along the darkly lit street towards home. As you approach the next alleyway, you see two Coruscant Guardsmen leaning against the wall. You smile and wave at them and they eagerly wave back. One of the perks of working the second shift at the diner is that you get the pleasure of running into your two favorite Corrie Guards, Traipse and Chris, on their patrol route. They’re wonderful friends, with big hearts, and even bigger stomachs.

“Watcha got for us today, mesh’la?” Traipse asks as he slips his bucket off.

“The usual,” you smile and hand the to-go container to him. “A couple half-eaten sandwiches and some cold fries, but this time there’s a little ketchup stuck to them.”

“Sweet!” Chris rips his bucket off as he eyes the food in the container, practically salivating at the prospect of cold, soggy fries.

It breaks your heart to see them so excited over scraps from another patrons table, but you know that anything you give them is better than what the GAR feeds them. It’s the least you can do for them, and they truly appreciate the meal. You still remember the first day you met them when you began working at the diner. They were new and on patrol when they stopped in for a hot cup of caf, which was a big mistake. The owner was livid, cursed at them, and almost shot them.

The scene that unfolded in front of you was just as frightening as it was disturbing. The two corries only wanted a cup of caf to keep them awake during their patrol, and they were nearly killed over it. That was the night your heart broke and truly softened for the clones. You felt so bad for them that at the end of your shift, you scraped together all the leftover food and caf you could get a hold of, and searched the streets looking for them. You’ve been friends ever since.

“And,” you sing while holding up the to-go cup, “some caf to wash it down.”

Their eyes light up like it’s Christmas. “No way! You got us caf too?”

You laugh and hand the cup to Chris. “It’s not very hot, and it's a bit stale, but it should be enough for the both of you to share.”

Chris takes the first sip of the lukewarm, slightly stale caf, and you can see the tension slip from his shoulders. It’s like he’s tasting caf for the very first time, and it’s not even good caf. You smile, but on the inside, you’re hurting. All of the caf shops on their patrol route are anti-clone, so they can’t stop for a simple cup of caf or even grab something to eat. They have to wait until their patrol is over and return back to the GAR headquarters. You wish you could do more.

“Thank you, mesh’la,” Traipse says, then gives you a big hug. “You’re so good to us.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you smile as you squeeze him back. “You know, someday I’m going to open my own diner, just for clones.”

Chris grins. “We’ll be your first customers!”

You laugh at his exuberance, and tap your foot on the ground. “I wish I could stay and chat, but I really need to get home.”

Chris hands the cup of caf to Traipse who takes a small sip. “You want us to escort you home?”

“Nah,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand. “I’ll be fine. I walk this route every night, you know.”

“Be safe, okay?” Traipse says. “And if you need us, you know where to find us.”

“Thanks boys,” you give them each a farewell hug and set out towards home, turning around to wave goodbye one more time.

You really did want to stay and chat with your friends like you do every night, but this particular shift was exhausting and now you only want to sleep. You barely had any breaks in between your tables being filled and emptied, so your feet ache painfully. Just the distance to walk home is enough to make you want to scream in agony. You didn’t want to tell your friends that your feet hurt, because you know that one of them, if not both, would have tried to carry you home.

It’s not that you wouldn’t mind being carried home by a big, strong, and handsome clone, but they have a job to do. They're on patrol, and you’re already putting them into jeopardy by chatting away with them when they’re supposed to be walking about the streets of Coruscant. They’re allowed to take breaks, but to have them deviate from their course so severely just to take you home because your feet hurt, is way too big of an ask. It would not be right..

As you continue to walk the dark streets, illuminated only by neon signs, your thoughts are interrupted by a noise coming from one of the side alleys. It almost sounds like a scuffle. They say curiosity killed the tooka, but it hasn’t killed you yet. So, you cautiously peer down the alley and see two men standing by the wall. One looks like a clone, but you can’t tell what color his armor is, and the other man looks wasted. You tip-toe closer and crouch behind a crate to get a better listen.

“I know what you did,” Fox says as he backs the drunken man against the wall.

“Get lost clone,” the man slurs.

"You hurt my kih’vod," Fox says.

"Your what?" the man asks, clearly confused with the term.

"My kih’vod," Fox repeats. "You broke his arm, and for what? Fun?"

The man pauses as he tries to understand what the clone is talking about through his drunken haze. Once it finally registers, the man sneers and becomes angry. "He deserved it!" the man yells. "All of them! They're all freaks of nature!"

"Freaks of nature?" Fox mocks and cocks his head to the side, feigning confusion at the accusation. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Disgusting meat droids," the man scoffs.

Fox chuckles darkly and gets in the man’s face. "You don't understand anything."

"What’s that?" the man slurs.

Fox pulls his bucket off and whispers in the man’s ear. "I'm the freak of nature." He grabs the man by the throat and lifts him up against the wall.

"Let go!" the man yells as he struggles in Fox’s grasp.

"You're not in a place to bargain," Fox says, purposefully baring his fangs in a show of intimidation. The neon lights bounce off the fangs, making them glow bright, a stark contrast to the dark alley.

You startle at the sight of the fangs and your grip loosens on the side of the crate, causing you to fall into the alleyway, making a thud noise when you hit the ground. You scramble back to your hiding place behind the crate and clamp a hand over your mouth, hoping he didn’t hear or notice you. You close your eyes as your mind races a mile a minute, wondering just what in the stars you just saw.

Fox snaps his head to the side when he hears the sound and he catches a small glimpse of you scurrying behind the crate. Tucking that away to deal with later, he turns his attention back to his prey. “Looks like we have an audience,” Fox sighs. “I just hate it when guests show up uninvited to dinner, don’t you?”

The man wriggles helplessly in the Fox’s grasp, fear washing over him as he realizes the mistake he’s made.

"Confess your sins," Fox says.

"I… I'm sorry, please," the man pleads, tears streaming down his face.

"Oh, not to me," Fox explains. "I'm not your Maker."

The man whimpers, haphazardly kicking and fighting to get free, but he’s too weak under the influence of alcohol.

"I am your death," Fox sinks his fangs into the man's neck and sucks every last bit of blood out of his worthless body. Eventually, the man stops wriggling, and his body slumps in Fox’s grasp.

Fox grimaces at the bitter taste of the man’s blood, but it’d be a shame to waste it. He finally pulls away from the man’s neck, panting for breath, then spits the last bit of the bitter blood out of his mouth as he staggers back. The alcohol in the man’s blood begins to make him feel light-headed and woozy. He turns to where you’re hiding behind the crate and starts walking towards you. His bucket sways in his left hand, while his right hand drags the man’s limp body alongside him.

Fox stops in front of you and drops the lifeless body beside you. The man’s cold, dead eyes meet your live ones, and you feel sick to your stomach. You look up at the clone with wide eyes as fear and dread wash over you like a heavy blanket. You can see now that his armor is red, red like the Coruscant Guard and red like blood smeared on his face. Your breath quickens when you notice the elongated fangs made visible as he pants from his fresh kill.

“You’re a… a…” you stammer out as you slowly inch away from his looming presence.

“A vampire?” Fox finishes your sentence with a roll of his head, still feeling tipsy from the alcohol invading his system.

“That’s… impossible,” you say. You’re at a loss for words as your brain flips between fight, flight, and freeze. Sure, you’ve read the stories about vampires, but they were just stories, right? Vampires don’t exist in real life, do they? You’re not sure what to think, but you don’t have time to work through figuring out an answer. You dart your eyes to the left and to the right, looking desperately for an escape route.

Fox kneels down in front of you and grabs your chin, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. “This is our little secret. Do you understand?”

You nod your head, too shocked to give a verbal response.

Fox searches your face for a moment, unsure of what he’s looking for, but eventually he releases you. “Run along little one,” he whispers, “or the fox might catch you.”

At his words, you scramble backwards, awkwardly trying to get up off the ground. He’s not coming after you, but the fear and adrenaline that’s raging inside your body tells you to run away. You get to your feet and you run. You run as fast as you can. You look back to make sure he’s not following you, and you see him, standing where he left you, watching you as you make your escape. You turn forward and continue running, ignoring the pain in your already tired feet.

You’re not sure which direction you're running in, just that it’s away from him. You wonder what he meant by ‘the fox’. Who is ‘the fox’? Is he a fox? No. He’s a vampire. Is his name Fox? You’re not sure of anything at the moment, and you decide to figure it out later. You keep up your stiff pace, dashing through the streets, turning down corners that look familiar until you come to an abrupt stop when you crash into Traipse. A small yelp escaping your lips as you fall backwards.

“Mesh’la?” Traipse asks in surprise.

Chris stoops down to pull you to your feet. “Are you alright? That was quite the hit.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Traipse adds as he looks you over to make sure you’re not hurt.

“I’m okay,” you pant.

Traipse and Chris trade bewildered glances and briefly look around to see what you might have been running from.

“What happened?” Chris asks. “We thought you went home.”

“I…” you want to tell them what happened. You want to tell them what you saw, but you quickly remember that you were sworn to secrecy, so instead, you feed them a lie. “I just got spooked. That’s all.”

Traipse doesn’t believe your explanation for one second. He narrows his eyes in suspicion. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you insist with a shaky breath, trying to sound convincing. You pause for a moment, then make a simple request, hoping that they’ll stop asking questions. “Would you walk me home now? Please?”

“Of course,” Traipse answers. He’s still not happy with the lack of explanation, but he doesn’t want to push it any further. “It would be our pleasure.”

The two corries walk on either side of you as you make the journey home. You feel a sense of safety with them at your side, so you try to let yourself relax a little. Many people fear or even hate the Coruscant Guard, but you’ve always enjoyed having them around. They make the lower levels more bearable and safe to live in, and your late nights aren’t so lonely. But now, can you really trust them? Are they really who you think they are? You’re not so sure anymore.

As you approach your apartment, you once again think about the corrie you encountered in the alley. You know that he’s a corrie based on the color of his armor, but you’ve never seen him around the lower levels before, or at least not on your route home. Perhaps he lives on the upper levels and comes down to the lower levels to feed. Your skin bristles at the thought. A vampire amongst the clones. A vampire amongst the Coruscant Guard. What if there are more?

You glance at your companions and briefly wonder if they’re vampires too. You quickly throw the idea out of your mind. If they were vampires, wouldn’t they have drank your blood by now? You shake your head to remove the swirling thoughts. The sun will be rising soon, and you just want to go to bed at this point. When you arrive home, you thank your two escorts as they leave you outside of your apartment, but they stay long enough to make sure you get inside safely, and for that you’re grateful.

Once inside, you lock your door and check every window to make sure they’re locked as well, and then pull the room darkening curtains across them. The fear that has crept inside of you from the words of the mysterious corrie in the alley has not left you. You shiver and slink down beside your bed, clutching your knees to your chest. You wonder if he’ll find you or if he’ll try to hurt you. You know not all clones are good, but you’ve always tried not to judge them on the outside.

As your adrenaline winds down, you decide to skip dinner, throw on your pajamas, and curl up under your duvet, covering your head with the thick material like a child afraid of the monsters under their bed. You keep a light on beside your bed, just in case, then slowly drift off to sleep as your exhaustion overrides your fear and forces you to sleep. Surprisingly, you sleep well, and are only awoken by your preset alarm at 17:00 hours, reminding you to get up for another day.

You barely remember the events of the night before in your waking haze, but as your senses return, the fear and anxiety creeps back in. You now wish you had asked Traipse and Chris to walk you to work as well. You know they would have if you asked. Sighing heavily, you take a quick shower, get dressed, and throw some food together for a hasty breakfast before heading out the door. Fortunately, your route to work is uneventful, which you’re thankful for.

Your day at work is the same as usual. With the hustle and bustle of the diner, you rarely have a moment to even think about the corrie in the alley. Between waiting tables, refilling caf, and chatting with the patrons, you almost forgot. However, there’s a nagging feeling in the back of your mind. The feeling that you're being observed. You don’t let it bother you too much, but you know it has to be him, watching your every move, making sure you don’t spill his secret.

At the end of your shift, you bring the remaining plates to the kitchen, gather up another to-go container of scraps and pour the last of the night's caf into a to-go cup for Traipse and Chris. You bid farewell to your co-workers and meet up with your two corrie friends by the next alley. They’re leaning against the wall, waiting for you to show up, but with stern looks on their faces. They must be worried about you. However, their demeanor perks up when they see you coming.

Across from the diner and in the shadows, Fox watches you. He keeps his distance, but he decided to keep an eye on you after the events of the previous morning. The words from Thorn rotate in his mind about getting caught and they churn in his stomach, because knows what will happen if the GAR finds out he’s a vampire, and he knows he put the rest of the commanders at risk. Which he mentally kicks himself for; the stubborn stupidity and lack of rational thinking.

Thus, he watches you, making sure you keep your mouth shut. He really doesn’t want to have to shut it for you, so he’s saving that drastic option for last. The keeping of his secret is vital to his entire batch’s survival. Only a few people outside of the commander batch know what happened during that unfortunate training mission, and that’s how he wants to keep it. It’s not safe for any of them. They’re not monsters and they’re not animals, but they aren’t normal.

It was a routine training mission for the batch of commanders. A get in, complete the objective, and then get out type of mission. Their Mandalorian instructor was a proud and harsh man, but he knew how to train strong leaders. However, something went wrong when they stumbled upon an unknown creature in the bowels of the world. An otherworldly looking being that struck fear in all of them, even their instructor. Every man on that training mission left that world changed.

They left that world infected. Each one gained a heightened sense of smell, sharper ears, and an unusual taste for human blood. They could hear heartbeats as people passed by and smell fear on their men. The change was difficult, being acutely aware of others around them, and they didn’t drink blood often. It wasn’t needed for survival, so why risk it. Most of them didn’t like talking about it either. So, their fangs remained hidden and their attraction to blood was stifled.

Fox snaps back from his memories when his eye catches the blinking neon sign affixed to the diner’s transparisteel front which bars his brethren from entering. He scowls at the offending sign and writes you off just like he does everyone else. A worthless natborn that can’t see past their own biased ideals. He huffs, thinking that maybe it would be worth the trouble to just get rid of you after your shift, but his better judgment, that he was missing last night, tells him not to.

He continues to watch you throughout your shift, unamused as you bustle around waiting tables, refilling caf, and pocketing tips. He finds you rather boring, actually, and continues to weigh your existence in his mind as to whether he wants to keep you alive or not. As you exit the diner at the end of your shift, he straightens his back and stretches. He quickly furrows his brows at the smile plastered on your face and wonders what you could possibly be smiling about.

Fox becomes curious about your odd happiness, so he follows you, maintaining his distance and keeping to the shadows where he can. Luckily, that isn’t a difficult thing to do in the lower levels. When he sees you approaching two Corrie Guards standing by an alley, he stiffens, worrying that you might harm his brothers. He watches intently as you get closer, his muscles tensing as he rolls the notion of ousting himself. He takes a single step forward, then stops.

Laughter. He hears laughter. His brothers are laughing with a natborn. They’re laughing with you. Fox’s mouth falls open in shock, and he takes a step backwards, caught completely off guard by what he’s seeing. He watches, dumbstruck, as you hand them the to-go container of food and the to-go cup of caf. To think that a natborn could be kind to a clone was unfathomable for Fox, but here you are, giving them food, giving them caf, and making them laugh.

The look of pure joy and happiness on their faces melts something deep within Fox. He can’t quite place the feeling, but it’s warm and soft and inviting. His anger and fear starts to crumble as his features soften. Could he be wrong about you? Is there such a thing as a good natborn? His skepticism and apprehension are replaced with intrigue and curiosity, and he decides that he needs to know more about you. So, he watches you more, but now because he wants to.

You fidget with your fingers and shift your weight between your two feet. “Hey, can I ask you guys a question?”

“Sure,” Traipse says as he tosses a few potato wedges in his mouth.

You hesitate for a second, piecing together the words carefully so that you don’t say too much, but you need to know the answer. “Is there a ‘fox’ in the Coruscant Guard?”

“Is there a ‘fox’?” Chris repeats with a slight laugh. “Yeah, there’s a Fox, but he’s not in the Coruscant Guard.”

“Oh…” you knit your brows together in confusion. You swear that the colors on that clone’s armor belong to the Corrie Guard.

Traipse chuckles at your confusion and needles Chris. “What this di’kut is trying to say is that Fox is the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard, so technically he’s not in it, he’s over it.”

Your mouth opens in shock. “Fox is a Commander?!”

“The Commander,” Chris corrects with a pointed finger.

Your brain continues to recalculate like a GPS that has lost its signal. You can’t believe that the corrie you ran into in that dark alley, the one that killed that man, the one that is a vampire, is also the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. You feel sick. You’re not sure what question to ask next. You don’t want them catching on and you don’t want to release too much information, so you go with something simple. “Do you like Commander Fox?”

“Of course!” Traipse exclaims. “He’s the best!”

“He visits his men when they’re in the GAR clinic,” Chris adds. “Even the shinies get a visit from him. He really cares about us. Kinda like you do.”

“Oh,” you trail off, not sure what to say.

Traipse and Chris continue to gloat about their amazing commander, which confuses you even more. The image they paint of Fox is nothing like the man you saw in the alley last night. There’s no way they’re the same man. It’s not possible. The man they’re speaking of is kind, brave, and smart, but the man you saw in the alley was terrifying, violent, and spiteful. The two images clash inside your mind as you struggle to decide if they really are the same man.

“Why do you want to know about our Commander?” Chris interrupts your thoughts.

You stiffen and come up with something quick. “Oh, no reason,” you dismiss. “I just heard the name is all.” You hope that explanation is convincing enough for them, and you let out a little sigh of relief when they shrug and change the subject.

Fox continues to watch you from the shadows as you interact with the two corries. He becomes nervous when you bring him up in the conversation, because if you’re as smart as he thinks you are, you’ll figure out his identity. With that information, you could easily go to the nearest general and get him arrested, court-martialed, or worse, decommissioned. He listens intently to his men’s praise, but his shoulders finally relax when they change the subject to something else.

After that encounter, Fox decides to watch you more, fully intrigued by the way you treat clones. He still has some doubts, and wonders if it’s only for show or if you really do care. However, night after night, he watches you clean tables, pack scraps together, and leave the diner. Like clock-work, you meet up with your two Corrie Guard friends to offer them a half-eaten meal, talk about your day, and listen as they regale you with harrowing stories of their nightly patrols.

Slowly, Fox finds himself wanting to see you more. Every night he leaves his office, whether his work is finished or not, to come and watch you at the diner. The way you dance around the tables in your apron, smile at patrons as you refill their mugs, and the sound of your laugh have become a part of his routine. He doesn’t want to miss a single second of you. He watches you with every intention to reveal himself, but he knows he can’t. Not after what you saw him do.

While Fox is back at headquarters, Thorn catches him lost in thought while sitting at his desk, mindlessly twirling his stylus around his fingers as his stack of data-pads grow. Thorn leans against the door jam and folds his arms. “You look busy.”

Fox continues to twirl his stylus while staring blankly at Thorn, unamused by his sarcastic tone. “Yeah, I am. So, why don’t you leave me to it.”

Thorn huffs. “You’ve always been a bad liar, vod.”

Fox wonders if Thorn is getting suspicious of him, and his question is answered quickly.

“You gonna tell me where you keep sneak’en off to at night?” Thorn asks.

Fox stops twirling his stylus and lowers his eyes to scan the data-pad on his desk. “It’s none of your business.”

“It’s my business if you’re gett’en us all in trouble,” Thorn retorts.

“It’s not like that,” Fox says without looking up from his data-pad.

Thorn approaches Fox’s desk and places both hands down flat onto the surface. “Then why don’t you tell me what it is like?”

Fox looks up from his data-pad and meets Thorn’s eyes with a scrunch of his nose. He emphasizes his words and says them slowly. “It’s none of your business.”

Fox and Thorn stare at each other with intensity. Thorn trying to read Fox’s intentions and Fox trying to ward off Thorn’s intrusion. As Thorn continues to search Fox’s face, he picks up on a faint scent emanating from hum. Thorn’s mouth slowly opens into a toothy grin as a singular thought pops into his mind. Thorn laughs and shakes his head, straightening himself up and moving away from the desk. He drags a hand across his chin. “You’re in love, aren’t you?”

Fox’s body tenses at Thorn’s acute awareness. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he dismisses, but his body betrays him. Heat slowly rises up his face and to the tips of his ears as his heartbeat quickens, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Thorn.

“You are!” Thorn exclaims with a knowing smile.

“I am not!” Fox retorts loudly, but then hushes himself to make sure no one hears. “I am not.”

“Don’t worry, vod, your secret is safe with me,” Thorn says playfully. “This is kinda unexpected though… I thought you hated natborns?”

Fox groans and leans back in his chair, running his hands down his face. “I do.”

Thorn throws him a devilish grin. “I guess not all of them.”

Fox leans forward and points his stylus at Thorn. “Get out.”

Thorn laughs and turns to leave Fox’s office, but not before giving him one more parting piece of brotherly advice. “Let me know if you need any date-night ideas.”

“Out!” Fox yells as he throws his stylus at his brother.

Once Thorn is out of sight, Fox plants his face onto his desk and groans. He never understood how Thorn could be so perceptive all of the time. He reads him like a book, but then again, he’s never been good at hiding his body’s reactions. Fox picks his head up from the desk and places it in his hands, fingers sliding through his mess of curls. He hates to admit it, but Thorn is right. He is in love, but he refuses to admit it because you’re a natborn. It goes against everything he knows.

It’s too late though, Fox can’t help himself from falling in love with you. He doesn’t get many glimpses of happiness in his life, but when he sees you. Maker, when he sees you smile, and your eyes sparkle, and you laugh, it’s enough happiness for him. He wants you to bring him table scraps and cold caf, to tell him about your day, and laugh with him. He wants to escort you home, to make sure you’re safe, and to be the reason that you smile, but he doesn’t know how.

Fox once again finds himself sitting in the shadows just outside of the diner and staring into the transparisteel window. He’s completely transfixed on you as you go about your shift. Something about your warm smile has captured his cold and calloused heart, and tonight is no different. He feels the urge again, the urge to confront you, to make himself known so he can get to know you. He kicks himself over and over for making you scared of him, but he wants to make it right.

He decides to approach you tonight, and steels himself to prepare, but as you open the door of the diner to leave, Fox catches a whiff of something intoxicatingly sweet. His heart skips a beat, his breath quickens, and his fangs become aroused at the scent. Even with his bucket on, it’s not enough to block out the decadent aroma. He pulls his bucket off and places a hand over his mouth and nose to try and stifle it, but it’s no use, the scent wafts around as you walk.

Through his growing arousal, Fox searches your body, looking for the source, and then he sees it. A bandage on your arm covering a cut. He tries to block the lustful thoughts out of his mind and remain focused, but Maker does he want a taste of you. His fangs throb out of need. The fragrance of your blood is like nothing he’s ever smelled before. Male blood is bitter and female blood is sweet, but your blood is overwhelmingly sweet. Sweeter than anything the universe could ever provide him.

Although he had plans to finally confront you tonight, he decides he needs to leave. The urge to drink your blood is too strong. If he made his move now, it would only frighten you, and that’s not what he wants to do. He doesn’t want you to be scared of him anymore. He doesn’t want you to look at him in fear like you did the night you met. He wants to make his intentions clear to you so there’s no mistake. He’ll show you that like your two corrie friends, he is also worthy of your affection.

It’s been three weeks since your terrifying encounter with Commander Fox, and you’ve finally put him and the ordeal out of your mind. You did what he asked and kept his secret, so there was no reason for him to come for you. However, you never quite lost the feeling of being watched, but you decided that it was just the paranoia getting the better of you. Besides, with Traipse and Chris walking you home every morning, you always felt safe.

Tonight is no different. You finish up your shift at the diner like usual, scrape together the best looking leftovers, and pour a to-go cup of the remaining stale caf. You clock out, say goodbye to your co-workers, and meet up with your corrie friends at the next alley over to give them their dinner. The look of excitement on their faces never fails to make you smile. It’s sad that something so simple, like table scraps and old caf, could make their night something special.

You chat with them about your day at work, and all the latest gossip from your co-workers, while they devour the diner food. A few well-timed jokes and laughs are exchanged, and when they’ve finished eating, they walk you home like they do every night since the scary incident. On the way, they fill you in on all of the juicy details of the Coruscant underworld. Some of it is so ridiculous you wonder if it can possibly be true, but you laugh and enjoy their musings.

Once you arrive at your apartment, you bid your friends farewell and swipe your keycard to enter your home. The inside of your apartment is dark, and only illuminated by a couple strings of battery powered fairy lights that are much more cost-effective on your energy bill than keeping your lights on. You lock the door behind you, toss your bag on the couch, and check all of the windows, before pulling the room darkening curtains closed as the sun threatens to rise.

You then enter the kitchen and wash the day of work off of your hands, then do a couple of the dishes that you’ve neglected for the past week. You place them neatly in the drying rack, then dry your hands as you mull over what you want to eat for dinner. You don’t feel like cooking, so leftovers are your only option. You pull open the conservator door and stare at your dismal choices. Finally, you pull out a small container of something you know isn’t bad and reheat it.

Sitting at your kitchen table, you mindlessly scroll through your data-pad and look at the current events while you munch on your dinner. You sigh as you read reports of the increased crime rate, violent anti-clone protests, and higher taxes for the lower levels. You toss your data-pad down, and grumble about there never being anything happy in the news to look at. When you finish dinner, you place your used dish in the sink, stretch, then head to your bedroom.

As you enter your bedroom, you flip the switch on the side wall to turn the lights on and nearly jump out of your skin as your soul almost leaves your body. There’s a clone lying on your bed. Of all the things you thought you’d come home to, maybe a stray tooka or something, you definitely never in your wildest imagination thought you’d find a whole clone in your apartment. You freeze and throw a hand over your mouth to stifle any noise but the clone doesn’t stir.

After the initial shock wears off, you notice that the clone’s armor looks awfully familiar to you. Your eyes widen with realization. It’s Fox. The Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard, a vampire, is on your bed. He’s lying on his stomach, armor still adorning his body, bucket perched on the nightstand, his face buried in one of your pillows, with both arms wrapped around it. Every single human emotion runs through your body, and you’re not sure which one to pick.

“Fox!” you yell. “What are you doing in my bed?”

Fox doesn’t move, but mumbles into the pillow. “Sleeping.”

“Why are you sleeping in my bed?” you demand.

Fox nuzzles the pillow gently. “It’s comfy.”

Your mouth falls open at his answer, but you really aren’t sure what you were expecting. “How did you even get in here?”

“The door,” he murmurs sleepily.

“I– You–” you're at a loss for words. You’re stunned. You rush over to him and grab his left leg to try and pull him off your bed, but he’s too heavy and you can’t get him to budge. You step back and groan in frustration that he’s not moving. Suddenly, something clicks in your brain and you become very afraid. “You’re…” you back away from the bed. “You’re not going to kill me are you? I kept your secret! I promise!”

Fox sighs at the fear he hears in your voice, and he mentally kicks himself for being the cause of it. He thought that confronting you in a safe place, such as your home, in a very calm and non-threatening way would make this easier on you. Clearly, he was wrong. Perhaps he should have asked for Thorn’s help after all. In an attempt to de-escalate the situation Fox remains still and speaks calmly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

His soft spoken words almost sound sincere, but you can still see his bloody face in your memories and hear those cynical words spoken to you. You feel conflicted about the situation. He hasn’t bothered you since that night and he hasn’t moved an inch since you got home. If he really wanted to kill you, wouldn’t he have done so already? It would be way too easy. Your physical prowess is nothing compared to a clone, let alone a commander. He could easily kill you.

“I promise,” he adds when you remain quiet.

You can hear a level of vulnerability in his words that strangely sets your heart at ease. Maybe the Fox that your corrie friends spoke of is the real Fox, and the Fox that you met in the alley isn’t. You might be rationalizing away his behavior that night, but everyone has a breaking point. Ultimately, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. You're still not okay with him breaking into your apartment or sleeping on your bed, but maybe he just needs a place to crash.

“Can you at least take your armor off?” you sigh. “You’re getting my duvet dirty.”

Fox doesn’t move a muscle.

“Whatever,” you let out another sigh, too exhausted to argue. “I’m going to take a shower, and I’m locking the door. So don’t try anything funny.”

Fox remains silent and unmoving.

You narrow your eyes, still wary of the commander. You know who he is. You know what he is. And you know what he’s capable of. As a precautionary measure, you grab your mace from your purse on the couch, gather a change of clothes, and lock yourself in the refresher. You should feel scared, more scared than you are, but something about him feels disarming and almost safe. It’s a stark contrast to what you saw the night you met, but maybe that’s his plan.

You finish your shower and exit the refresher, feeling clean and ready for bed. When you walk back into your bedroom, you startle for a moment. Fox is still lying on his stomach on your bed, but his armor is stacked neatly next to your dresser, leaving him clothed only in his black bodysuit. You look at him for a moment, cocking your head to the side, and wonder why he waited to take his armor off. Perhaps he didn’t want to scare you by making any sudden movements.

Whatever the reason, his intentions of not harming you are made clearer every second. He’s leaving his entire body vulnerable to you. You could easily grab one of the steak knives from the kitchen and stab him in the back with it, but you won’t. He hasn’t given you a reason to, and you hope he doesn’t. You haven’t been known as the smartest person in the world, and you trust way too easily, but you honestly don’t feel any malicious intent from him as he lies in your bed.

You cautiously come around to the empty side of the bed and look at his face nestled in your pillow. His dark curly hair lines the sides of his face, coming to rest just above his closed eyes, his lips are slightly parted as he breathes slowly. You have to admit, he looks peaceful, like this is the first bed he’s ever slept on in his whole life, and your heart softens a bit for him. He’s still a vampire, you remind yourself, but he doesn’t look scary, at least not like this.

Since Fox is sleeping on top of your duvet, instead of in it, you grab a blanket from the chair on the other side of the room and carefully drape it over him. He remains still and doesn’t say a word. You still wonder why you’re doing any of this, but something deep inside tells you that he won’t hurt you. You grab another blanket for yourself and stand at the edge of the bed. He’s still a little too close for comfort, and for caution's sake, you decide to sleep with your mace in your hand.

“Can you scoot over, please?” you ask.

Without opening his eyes, Fox wiggles himself to the edge of the bed, taking the pillow with him. You stifle a snort at how funny he looks, but the smile that crosses your face cannot be hidden. He’s like a child. Acting just like the rest of the clones when they encounter such small creature comforts. You take a lot of things for granted as a human, as a natborn, but you try your best to pay it forward to the clones when you can, even if that means letting one sleep in your bed.

You crawl onto the empty side of the bed and snuggle under the blanket you pulled off of the chair. You rest your head on your pillow and look over at Fox. His eyes are still closed and he seems to be asleep. Your mind on the other hand is racing with so many questions that you’re having trouble sleeping. It keeps going back to the night you met, and makes you wonder why he’s so different today than he was then. You fidget with your fingers, then decide to finally ask.

“Fox?” you whisper.

“Hmm?” he hums.

You hesitate for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm,” he mumbles against the pillow.

“What would happen if they found out?” you ask.

Without opening his eyes he answers. “I’d be decommissioned.”

You chuckle. “Is that some type of early retirement?”

Fox opens his eyes slowly and looks at you. “I wish,” he sighs. “I’m defective. Defective clones are either reconditioned or decommissioned.”

You stare into his deep brown eyes. They look sad. “What’s the difference?”

“Reconditioning makes you a blank slate,” he explains. “Like a memory wipe. Then you’re put back in the general clone population to start over from scratch.”

“That’s… terrible,” you say. You don’t know too much about a clone’s life other than what your clone friends have told you, but to think that their lives can be ripped from them in an instant is sickening.

“That’s life,” Fox laments.

You pause before asking your next question, unsure if you really want to know the answer. “What about decommissioning?”

Fox rolls onto his back and leans his arm over his forehead, pushing his curls up and out of his face. He doesn’t want to tell you the truth, but if he ever wants you to understand the reason he needs you to keep his secret, then he has to tell you. “It’s just a fancy term for euthanasia.”

You sit up and your mouth gapes open in shock. “Euthanasia? Like what they do with animals?”

“Yeah,” he whispers.

“But you're not animals,” you retort.

“You’re right,” he says. “But we’re not people either. We’re products. Goods bought and sold. Some can be fixed, others need to be disposed of.”

You stifle back tears. “I don’t think of you as products.”

“I know,” Fox smiles sadly, remembering the way you treat your Corrie Guard friends. “But a memory wipe can’t fix what I am, so the only option is disposal. It used to be very common back when I was manufactured. I almost lost one of my batch brothers because he had blonde hair.” Fox chuckles at the memory.

“I’m so sorry,” you offer, unsure of what words of comfort you can even give him. The way he talks about himself, as a product makes you sick to your stomach. The reality of the clones hits you like never before and your resolve to help the clones grows even stronger. “I’ll keep your secret, I promise. I won’t let them decommission you. Any of you.”

Fox smiles at your kind words, even if they are naive. He knows you can’t save all of them, but he also knows you will try. He finds your affection for him and his brothers endearing, and it makes his heart flutter with warmth and happiness. He knows he is safe with you, that he can be vulnerable with you, and that you won’t cast him aside like so many other natborns have. You’re different, so much different than anyone else, and he never wants to lose that.

“Go to sleep, mesh’la,” Fox says. “You can save all of the clones tomorrow.” Without another word, Fox flops himself back onto his stomach and buries his face into the pillow, slowly drifting off to sleep.

You lie awake for a little while longer as the sun peeks through the top of your room darkening curtains, and think about his words, about the fate of the clones, and about his fate as a vampire. You’re not even sure how he became a vampire, or if there are more vampires amongst the clones. All you know is that this clone, this commander, Fox, is sleeping peacefully in your bed, and dreaming of a life that is more than what he was created for.

The next evening, you wake up as usual to your alarm going off, telling you to get up for another night at work. You sit up and stretch towards the ceiling, then rub the sleep from your eyes. You look over and see Fox still sleeping in the same position he started in. You wonder if sleeping on his stomach is out of habit, or if he really enjoys it. To you, it looks uncomfortable, but you let the thought go. You sneak out of bed, trying not to wake him, and start your morning routine.

Since it’s the two of you this evening, you decide to make breakfast for once, instead of just tossing whatever you find in your mouth and flying out the door. You start the caf machine and pull two mugs out from the top of your cupboard. It’s been a long time since you’ve had a guest for breakfast, so you’re glad you kept the extra mugs. As the caf percolates in the machine, you set your small kitchen table for two, with plates, forks, napkins, and cups.

You pull four eggs from the basket, but you pause when you realize that you’re not sure how he likes his eggs. To be honest, you’re not sure if he’s ever eaten an egg. You decide to play it safe by making them all scrambled. Everyone loves scrambled eggs. Then you toss several strips of bacon in a different frying pan. As you work on cooking the eggs and bacon, you pop a few slices of bread in the toaster and grab the orange juice from the conservator.

When you close the door, you’re startled to see Fox standing there. His face is still covered in sleep and his curls are all flattened on one side. He has one hand under the top half of his blacks, scratching at his stomach, and he releases a small yawn. The smell of food must have roused him from his sleep. You give him a small smile and pull out one of the table chairs for him to sit. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes light up when you place a mug of hot caf in front of him.

He looks between you and the caf several times, almost asking for your permission to drink it. You chuckle and nod your head for him to take it. He grabs the sides of the mug, cradling it like it’s the most precious gift he’s ever received. He brings it to his lips, inhaling the beautiful aroma before giving it a small taste. The hot liquid bites his tongue, but it doesn’t bother him, not when the taste of the caf is this divine. He lets out a languid sigh and practically melts into the mug.

You smile grows bigger at his childlike innocence and you place a plate of steaming food in front of him. His face is still in his mug, but when he pulls it away and sees the food, his eyes blow wide open. Once again he’s shocked that you’re providing him with such delicacies to enjoy. He starts to feel guilty that he gets to eat like a king while his brothers are starving on rations, but he doesn’t want to be rude, so he eats what you give him and enjoys it.

Whether it was your home cooked meals or your comfortable bed, your new routine now contains Fox. Every morning, when you come home from work, you find Fox lying in your bed, exhausted from his night. You let him shower now, and even bought him his own towel, soap, and shampoo to use. Sometimes he spends a while in the shower, but you don’t bug him about it. You can only imagine how good it feels for him, after never having a proper shower in his life.

You also make dinner for the two of you as well. You have to admit, ever since Fox came into your life, your eating habits have gotten better. After dinner and dishes, you both curl up into your bed and sleep. When you first explained to him that the duvet was for sleeping under and not on, Fox got very excited. The weight of the duvet made him sleep better than he’s ever slept before. Then, in the evening when you get up, you make caf and breakfast, and you both leave for work.

It’s been several months now, and you’re completely used to cohabitating with Fox. You now expect him to be there whenever you come home. You find it fun to have a roommate. You have someone to talk to and watch sappy holo-dramas with. There’s nothing you enjoy more than curling up on the couch and eating popcorn together. He doesn’t bring in any income, but you don’t mind. The joy on his face when he drinks his first mug of caf in the evening is payment enough.

This early morning is no different than any other. You come home from work and find Fox lying in your bed, and you jostle him awake so you can make dinner together. Once you taught Fox how to cook, he became invaluable for meal prep and dinner time. Making dinner with Fox is now one of your favorite things to do. You both find it fun and a great bonding time. You talk about your days, smile, and laugh about dumb things each other says. You’ve never been happier in your whole life.

This morning, you’re making stew for dinner. It’s a new recipe and you’re really looking forward to sharing it with Fox. The days on Coruscant have grown cold and blustery, so it’s the perfect time of the cycle to be making warm food for the soul. You both set to work, peeling and chopping vegetables to throw in the pot. You're chatting about your day, when in a split second, your knife slips and you cut your finger. You wince at the pain and drop your knife on the cutting board.

Fox immediately smells your blood, that sweet sweet blood of yours that he almost forgot about. His heart skips a beat and his fangs twitch to life in his mouth. He fights it, the urge to take you right here in the kitchen and drink that precious blood of yours, and he staggers backwards until his back is resting against the conservator, covering his nose from your alluring scent. You sigh at your clumsiness and walk over to the sink to rinse your finger off, but Fox catches your arm and grips it tightly.

You snap your neck to look over at him and you see his blown pupils threatening to overtake his dark brown irises as his fangs begin to grow in his mouth. His grip on your arm is tight and for the first time in a long time, you feel fear when you look at Fox. Your life together has been so normal, you almost forgot he’s a vampire, and here you are bleeding in front of him. Your breath quickens, and your arm trembles. When Fox smells your fear, he releases your arm and steps away from you.

“I… I’m sorry,” he apologizes through a shaky breath. “It just smells so good. I couldn’t help myself.”

You rub your arm where he gripped you and knit your brows with worry. You can tell he’s struggling against the urge, and you feel bad for being afraid of him when his reaction seems automatic and not even close to malicious. He’s desperately trying to respect your boundaries, fighting the arousal in him as his fangs throb, desperate to release the building pressure. You have to get rid of it, the blood that’s causing him so much pain, so you turn the water faucet on.

“Please!” Fox pleads between pants. He reaches with his arm again, but stops himself as he poorly tries to contain his need. “Don’t waste it.”

“Do… Do you want it?” You ask hesitantly. The words feel foreign as they cross your lips.

Fox clenches his teeth and nods.

You fidget nervously. "Will I become a vampire if you drink my blood?"

Fox chuckles as he strains through his desire. "Doesn't work… Like that.”

“Fox, I’m scared,” you admit.

“Won’t… Hurt you,” Fox says through gritted teeth. “Promise.”

You hesitate for a moment, then tentatively stretch out your finger. He looks at your blood, lust overtakes his eyes, the pupils now blown wide. He wants it. He craves it. The sweetest smelling blood. He parts his lips and you can see his fangs protruding past the rest of his teeth. A fresh wave of fear hits you and you recoil your finger. Fox can smell your fear, so he takes your wounded hand gently in his and caresses the side of his face with the back of it, trying to calm you down.

He slowly slides your hand down his cheek and to his lips and darts out his tongue, flicking it across your bloody finger. He closes his eyes and he releases a sultry moan at the taste. Your blood is intoxicating and he wants more. He wraps his lips around your finger, his hot tongue swirling around it, lapping up every last drop that has spilled from it. You shudder when he starts sucking on it, pulling fresh blood from the open wound, the sensation odd and unfamiliar.

As much as Fox wants more, your finger won’t give it. The cut begins to clot without further penetration and the sweet taste slowly dissipates. He reluctantly releases your finger, a soft whine escaping from his throat at the loss of your blood. You take your finger back and inspect it, the wound already scabbing over and healing. You look at him in shock, and he stares back at you, panting as he comes down from his high. His fangs retract and his brown irises return.

“How did you do that?” you ask.

Fox sits down at the kitchen table and exhales deeply as his senses come back to him. “The secretion of my fangs.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“How much do you know about vampires?” he asks.

“Just what I’ve read in books,” you answer as you sit down at the table across from him.

“Well, all those books are wrong,” Fox explains. “First, I can’t turn you into a vampire. Second, we’re not immortal. Third, my fangs are only present when they’re aroused. And fourth, my fangs secrete both dopamine and serotonin.”

You blink at him a couple of times as you take in all the new information. You open your mouth to ask another question, but he answers that one too.

“And no, I don't turn into a bat at night or become dust in the sunlight,” he adds with a small laugh.

“So, then you don’t need blood to survive?” you ask.

Fox shakes his head. “Nope. It’s more like a craving.”

“What about the man?” As soon as the words are released, you instantly regret the question. You didn’t mean to bring that night up, but it fell out of your mouth too quickly.

Fox pauses at the question, knowing it was going to be asked sooner or later. “I drink blood for two reasons,” Fox begins and puts up two fingers. “For revenge and for pleasure.” Fox pauses again and looks to the side. “That man… He hurt one of my men. I was angry and bitter, and out for revenge.”

“Oh, I see...” You think about his words for a moment, wondering if you should ask more about that night or if you should just change the subject and move on. It’s already a sore spot between you two, but Fox has apologized about it multiple times since you’ve been living together. You ultimately decide on the latter of the options. “Does it taste good?”

Fox chuckles at the question. “Depends. Male blood is more bitter and female blood is more sweet, but those scales can tip depending on a lot of things.”

“What does my blood taste like?” You ask.

Fox traces absentminded shapes on the table with his finger and smiles as he remembers your taste. “Sweet, very sweet.”

You fidget with your wounded finger before asking your next question. “Was it… pleasurable?”

Fox purses his lips and thinks for a moment, trying to form his words carefully so as to not cause you an alarm. “Yeah, it was pleasurable, but it’s more pleasurable when I use my fangs.”

You wonder what the taste of your blood has to do with his fangs. “Why?”

“The secretions,” he says as he taps the side of his lip. “If my fangs are inside you, then you get it too. It’s supposed to keep the prey from struggling too much, but it also feels really good.” Fox rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. He’s never had to explain this to anyone before, especially to someone he cares about. “It can make for an awkward revenge kill, but also an erotic pleasurable drink.”

A warm heat creeps across your face. You remember the way he looked when he was drinking the small amount of blood you gave him and he was clearly having a good time sucking on your little finger. Perhaps getting your blood drunk by a vampire is a pleasurable experience. Your mind begins to wander and you think about Fox sinking his fangs into the side of your neck and it sends sparks of excitement through your body. You quickly lose yourself in your daydream.

“Mesh’la,” Fox says, trying to pull you from your thoughts.

You blink back to reality. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” Fox asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh, yeah,” you let out a nervous laugh. “I’m fine. Just a lot of information.”

Fox gets up from his chair and places a small kiss on the top of your head. “I’ll finish dinner tonight. Why don’t you go shower. It'll be done by the time you're out.”

You lean your head back against his stomach, close your eyes, and sigh. “Okay.”

Fox gives you another chaste kiss and helps you to your feet. A shower does sound really nice right about now. It’ll give you some time to clear your head and think about everything that has happened. You leave Fox to dinner and head to the refresher to take a shower. You run the water for a minute before getting in, then step under the stream of hot water. The water flows across the curves of your body as the gentle massage of the droplets soothes your muscles.

You wash your hair and give it a good conditioning, then wash your body. You lather up your washcloth and run it across your arms, legs, stomach, and down the side of your neck. You stop and do it again, only slower, rubbing the soft cloth against the thin sensitive skin. You start to think about Fox, about his fangs inside you, and what it would feel like. You close your eyes and imagine it, an erotic encounter with someone you trust and love that doesn’t involve sex.

You’ve had the conversation with Fox before, about sex. You’ve been living together for a while now, and what started as a mutual living arrangement turned into a relationship before you could blink your eyes. He shared his feelings with you. How much he loves you, cares for you, and what you mean to him. The feelings are mutual. However, you always feel bad about denying him such an intimate encounter, but you aren’t ready, and you’re not sure when you will be.

Fox never pushes the issue, and he never brings it up. He only ever discusses it if you are the one who initiates the conversation. You love that about Fox. He respects every boundary you give him. Even when he was overcome with lust at the scent of your blood, he still let you make the choice. He was in pain, and he chose you over himself. He always chooses you, over and over again. This time though, you want to choose him. You want to give him what he craves.

Once out of the shower, you dry yourself off with your towel and hang it next to Fox’s. You quickly towel dry your hair, moisturize your body, throw on your pajamas, and leave the warmth of the refresher. The transition to your chilly apartment isn’t bad, because Fox grabs you from behind and pulls you against his warm chest. You squeal and then smile when he wraps his arms around your stomach. He buries his nose in your freshly washed hair and lets out a contented sigh.

“You smell good,” Fox mumbles against your scalp.

You giggle. “Really? All I smell is that stew you’re making.”

Fox chuckles. “It does smell good, doesn’t it?”

You escape his embrace and spin around on your heels. “I think it’s dinner time.”

“I think you’re right,” Fox agrees and you both head to the kitchen.

The two of you sit at the kitchen table and enjoy your dinner together. Regardless of your small chopping mishap earlier, the stew came out wonderful. Fox did an amazing job and you can see him beam with pride as you groan from the warm earthy goodness. He also made a small batch of biscuits, which surprised you. You forgot you had those in the conservator, so you're happy they finally got put to good use. After dinner, you clean up the kitchen and Fox takes his shower.

It’s just about bedtime as you see the sun peeking through your curtains. You’re already in your pajamas, so you crawl into bed. The cool sheets cause you to shiver slightly as you wait for the bed to get warmer. Fox returns from his shower, his curls still a little damp from toweling them. He removes his t-shirt and tosses it onto the chair, leaving him in only his gray sweatpants, both of which you bought him a couple months ago, then settles in on the other side of the bed.

With Fox under the duvet, you know the bed will get warm soon, but you’re still cold, so you scoot over to him to leech off of his warmth. His body radiates heat, which is why he can sleep without a shirt and not freeze to death, unlike you, who needs ten different layers, plus extra blankets to keep warm. Without opening his eyes, Fox lifts up his arm to give you access, and you eagerly take the invitation and snuggle closer to him, instantly feeling warmer.

You close your eyes and try to fall asleep, but your thoughts from earlier are nagging at the back of your mind. You start thinking about Fox drinking your blood again, and how pleasurable it might be for you. The thoughts are only compounded by being so close to him, the warmth emanating from his body, the musky scent of his skin and hair, and the feeling of his toned back muscles beneath your fingers. It’s almost too much to bear, and once again your curiosity is getting the better of you.

“Fox?” you whisper into his shoulder.

“Hmm?” he mumbles into his pillow.

“Do you want to drink my blood?” you ask, a twinge of nervousness escaping through your question.

Fox opens his eyes as a jolt of lightning goes straight from his stomach and into his fangs. The thought of drinking your blood arouses them, and they quickly become engorged and primed for penetration. He curses to himself at just how fast they were ready when you asked. Almost, embarrassingly fast. The familiar pressure begins to build and Fox shifts his body in discomfort. He doesn’t know if you’re just curious or if this is an invitation, but he prepares himself for either.

“Yeah,” Fox admits as he rotates from his stomach to his side so he can see you better. “But not unless you want me to.”

“What if I do want you to?” you ask.

Fox stifles a groan as his fangs throb in his mouth, desperate to pierce your beautiful skin. “Are you sure?” he asks.

You hesitate for a second. “Will it hurt?”

Fox picks his head up and props it up on the palm of his hand, elbow bent and leaning on the pillow. He looks into your eyes, glides his hand from your covered waist to your exposed neck, and brushes his knuckles against the soft flesh. The skin there is so supple and inviting. His fangs throb harder as he envisions himself drinking your sugary sweet blood. Fox leans closer, as he continues to caress the side of your neck, and rests his forehead against yours to reassure you.

“You’ll feel a sharp pain as they sink in,” he explains with a gentle whisper, “and they’ll throb under your skin, but the pleasure will take over soon after.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” you say softly.

Fox smiles, then continues. “It’ll drip a little when I pull them out, but I’ll clean it up. You might be drowsy afterwards and a bit cold. It might ache for a day, since it's your first time, and form a small bruise.”

Your heartbeat quickens at all the information and Fox can smell your growing fears.

Fox cups the sides of your face in both of his hands and looks deeply into your sparkling eyes. “You don’t have to be afraid, cyare,” he soothes. “I won't hurt you.”

You nod your head in acknowledgment.

“Tell me that you want it, cyare,” he whispers, his hands moving from your face to your shoulders.

“I want it Fox,” you answer.

“How do you want it?” he asks, nuzzling the side of your cheek with his own. “Do you want to lay down or sit on my lap? Whatever is more comfortable for you.”

You think for a moment, and if you’re going to be drowsy, then you’ll want to be laying down, so you pull back from his touch and lie back against your pillow. “Just like this.”

Fox leans over to give your forehead a small kiss, then rips the duvet off the both of you. A slight shiver runs down your body at the loss of your warm covers, but it’s soon replaced with a new warmth. Fox straddles his legs overtop yours, hovering over your prone body as his hands plant themselves at the sides of your head. Your anticipation grows as he stares down at you with lustful eyes, and a knot forms in your stomach as you wonder what his fangs will feel like as they penetrate your soft skin.

Fox can hear your heart racing and he gently places his left hand on your chest. "Relax for me, mesh’la. Your heart is beating too fast. I don't want this to hurt."

You nod your head and work to get your breathing under control to slow your heart rate. You take deep, slow breaths as Fox guides your breathing to be in sync with his. His brown irises have been replaced by blown pupils and his fangs protrude from their hiding spot, dripping with their pleasure inducing secretions. His dark curls drape around his face, accentuating his hooded eyes and parted lips. You stare into his eyes, letting your breath match his, as you finally calm down.

"Good girl," Fox praises.

He tilts his head to the right and ghosts his lips across your supple neck as he searches for the perfect spot to penetrate your flesh. It has to be just right. Too far to either side, and he might hurt you. He takes him time, even as you whimper impatiently beneath him, because he needs this to be perfect. You’re putting all of your trust in him, that he won’t hurt you, and he refuses to break that trust. He continues to nose around your neck, before he finds his mark.

"Right there," Fox breathes against your neck, causing the little hairs to stand on end. “That’s where you’ll feel me.” He nuzzles the side of your face for reassurance. "Are you ready, mesh’la?” he whispers against your skin. “To feel ecstasy?”

You release an involuntary moan at the sultry words. "Please, Fox. I want you to– Ah!"

Your words turn into a whimper when you feel a sharp pain in the side of your neck. You instinctively raise your left hand to touch the pained area, but it instead finds purchase in Fox’s hair. You clench your fist around his curls, your other hand digging into his back, as you wince at the stinging sensation. It’s just as he described, but as soon as the pain came, it went. Now all you feel is the throbbing of his engorged fangs under your skin as he drinks your blood.

Fox pulls away from your neck to catch his breath. His head rises to meet your wanton gaze and you can see your blood on his fangs and lips as he pants above you. Your own breath becomes rapid as the endorphins released from his fangs invade your system, reaching every corner of your body, causing you to elicit the most salacious moan. The feeling is euphoric and your eyes roll back in your head. He’s not even touching you, and your body feels like it’s on fire.

"How do I taste?" you ask between labored breaths.

"Intoxicating," Fox moans. "So sweet. So perfect."

Fox reinserts his fangs into your delicate skin, desperately needing to taste more of you as he becomes drunk on your sugary blood. It’s delectable, addicting, and too good to part with. A pure delicacy that he wants to drown in. His own pleasure is only magnified as you fall apart beneath him, moaning his name in the most obscene ways while taking chunks of flesh out his back. If anyone were to overhear you right now, they’d never once think that you’re being devoured by a vampire.

The flood of endorphins overpower your body. You dig your nails further into Fox’s back as you curl your toes into the sheets, trying not to scream from the tension building and releasing in your body. You understand now, what he meant earlier when he said it would be pleasurable, and you wholly underestimated just how pleasurable it would be. You’ve never felt like this before, like you're floating in a cloud of weightlessness, and you never want it to end.

Fox knows he has to stop before he drinks you dry. The urge to stay here forever, tasting you and lapping up every drop of blood you have to offer, is overwhelming. He wants to indulge in your sweet nectar and get drunk on your blood for hours, but he can't. He can feel your skin growing chilled as your blood recedes your vital organs. He’s out of time and he needs to let you go. It won’t be forever though. He has a feeling that he’ll get to drink your blood again.

With a soft whine, he releases you, panting heavily from the long drink. He looks at the two holes in the side of your neck, little pools of blood forming at the surface. He licks the droplets until they begin to clot and close, and kisses the spot for good measure before picking his head up to look at you. He licks the remaining blood off his lips and smiles down at your disheveled state. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes half open, and mouth parted. It must have been a wonderful ride.

“Fox,” you moan as your body continues to ride out the last of the endorphins.

“Cyare,” Fox purrs as he nuzzles the side of your cheek.

You look up at him with hooded eyes. “How was it?”

Fox chuckles. “I should be asking you that.”

“It was really really good,” you groan.

Fox smirks. “I’m glad.”

You groan at your body’s response. With Fox’s fangs gone, the euphoric feeling in your body slowly begins to dissipate and your senses return to you, as well as the side effects. You roll your head to the side and close your eyes. “I’m so tired.”

Fox carefully gets off of you, stretches out beside you, and strokes your hair. “That’s normal.”

“I’m cold, too,” you add with an involuntary shiver as you try to curl into a ball.

Fox frowns and pulls his fingers away. He moves toward the edge of the bed and grabs the duvet that he flung off earlier. He rolls you over so you’re facing him and gently presses you against his chest. He then wraps the duvet snuggly around you both, making sure that you are completely covered, with just enough of an opening so you can breathe. He runs his hands up and down you back as you bury your face into his neck and cling to him for warmth. “Better?”

“Mhm,” you mumble against his skin.

Fox places a soft kiss on your forehead. “Rest now.”

“Fox?” you whisper.

“Yes, mesh’la?” Fox answers.

You look into his eyes and smile. “You caught me.”

Fox chuckles and holds you tighter. “So I did.”

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nahoney22 · 9 months

Note

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.

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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

#commander fox x you #commander fox x reader #Corrie guard #nahoney22 writes #fox x you #fox x reader

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ghostofskywalker · 1 year

Note

Can I request for Fox or Rex with a Jedi reader who goes on what’s supposed to be a cut and dry mission but they loose contact and return later than planned and how Fox or Rex react?- Curious Curios

@curious-curios you always come up with such amazing ideas, this was an absolute joy to write! i went with fox because i simply love him so much, and i hope you enjoy it!

words: 2,127

summary: This mission was supposed to easy, four rotations at the max, so Fox starts to worry when you don't return on schedule and your comms are completely unavailable. He's absolutely beside himself, and the rest of Guard gets him to finally come to terms with how he feels.

clone troopers masterlist

How to Tell When You Have Feelings For Your Jedi General

“You still in there vod?” Fox made a noncommittal noise at his brother’s question, and picked his head up from where he was staring at the comm device on his desk as Thorn stepped in the office.

“What do you want?”

“Okay, I’m guessing there hasn’t been any word from the general yet, given that you’re still acting like that.”

Fox just sighed, he should have known this would be the topic of conversation. “I already told Hound to drop the subject, not everything in my life right now is about her.”

But of course, Thorn didn’t seem too convinced. “Really? So the fact that she should have been back three hours ago has nothing to do with your sour mood? Given your very obvious feelings for her I find that hard to believe.”

“I do not have feelings for the General, and she can handle herself just fine on her own.”

“What battalion is she helping out again?”

Another sigh left Fox’s mouth. “The 501st, why?”

“Oh, maybe you do have a point being worried there.”

“Thorn!”

Despite his brother’s chastising tone, Thorn didn’t seem too bothered about what he had just implied. “Relax, you worry too much. We both know that the front lines can get hairy, and it’s only a few hours right now. If something was seriously wrong, we would have probably received a comm from the Jedi temple by now.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Fox said. “I know I’m not supposed to be this worried or hung up over it.”

“No, you should let yourself feel these things, it’s good for you,” Thorn said. “And maybe then when the General does return from her gallant mission with the 501st, you can tell her how you feel and stop making the rest of us watch you pine from afar.”

“I was on board with the first half of your statement,” Fox rebuked. “But you fell off with the last part.”

“Oh come on, you seriously think we don’t see how you look at her? I know you starting wearing your helmets to meetings more often now because you can’t hide the stupid look you get on your face when she’s around. What’s the big problem you have with admitting this to yourself?”

Fox’s ears started to burn with that comment, Thorn was right but he was not about to admit it. “I don’t admit anything like that to myself because it’s simply not true,” he responded, trying to keep his voice even. “My relationship with the general is a strong one, and we work exceptionally well together, but I do not have feelings for her in the way you’re implying, and nor would she be able to return them if I did.”

Thorn nearly burst out laughing. “If you still believe the Jedi have forsaken all attachments at this point, you’re crazy,” he said. “Just ask the 501st, because according to Jesse their general is married to a Senator, even though they won’t tell me which one it is.”

“Again Thorn, you’re missing the point.”

“Alright, alright, fine. I’ll let it go for now.”

“Thank you.”

“But if there’s any chance that you’re lying to my face right now, you should really consider what I have to say. Take a chance and tell the general how you feel about her when she comes back, I think you’ll find that your feelings aren’t actually unrequited.”

Thorn had disappeared from the room before Fox could respond, leaving the commander to worry and fret over the weight of his thoughts. Thorn had it all right when he said that Fox had feelings for you, but that was something that he would never admit to.

You had been assigned to the Coruscant Guard a few months after the start of the war, having previously served with a small company that was later integrated into the 212th. Along with your duties to the Guard and the Senate, you occasionally helped out your fellow Jedi on campaigns and missions, which is where you were at this point. This shouldn’t have been something that caused any worry. You had assisted the 501st many times before and everything had been fine, so what was the big deal now?

But never once had you been completely unreachable, and that was what worried him.

He had stood at the gunship docking area in Coruscant for over an hour today, waiting for the transport that would bring you back to him, but instead, all he got was worry and anxiety. He tried to comm you, but the line was completely static. Desperately, he reached out his batchmate, Captain Rex, but he received no response. Eventually he had to return to headquarters, and he tried not to let anyone else realize what was causing his mood to sink in this way as he walked into his office and closed the door behind him.

The truth was that he had wanted to tell you how he felt before you left, but like most things in his life, nothing ever went to plan.

“General, do you have a moment?” He had spent all morning psyching himself up for this, and he was finally going to get the weight of his feelings off his chest, no matter what the consequences were.

“I do,” you said, looking up from your datapad. “But I’m afraid I don’t know how much I’ll be able to help with whatever the issue is, because I’m leaving to assist the 501st with a campaign in about half an hour.”

That sentence should not have been surprising to Fox, it was something you had done before. But this time, ice cold worry found its way into his stomach, and he tried to maintain his composure as the feeling of dread grew. “It’s nothing too important,” he said, instantly changing his mind and chickening out of what he wanted to confess. “We can worry about it when you get back.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, eyes searching his face with a tinge of worry on your face. “I have some time before I need to meet Rex, I can-”

“General, I promise you it’s not the end of the galaxy,” Fox said, cutting you off. He was completely lying at this point, but there was no going back now. “I can handle it myself until you get back.”

He wasn’t sure if your agreement was because you actually believed him or because you were worried about your upcoming rendezvous with the 501st, but he wanted to think it was the former rather than the latter. And so he waved you off with the rest of the Guard’s command squad and watched the gunship that was shuttling you away disappear, trying to keep his face from betraying his thoughts the entire time.

***

He didn’t return to the barracks that night, despite the crushing fatigue he felt in every part of his body. There was a stack of files on his desk that became something of a pillow, and he rested his head on them as he tried to think about anything other than the fact that he still hadn’t heard from you yet, and there was no word on the status of the 501st’s objective.

The rest of the Guard knew enough to leave him alone once the chronometer showed that you were over five hours later than you had told them you would be, and they could tell that Fox was losing his mind over it. Thire had stopped by with some food and a bottle of water after he refused to go to the mess hall for dinner, but other than the soft reassurances that you were okay and would be back on Coruscant soon, no one said another word to him about the way he was acting. Thorn’s previous words kept echoing in Fox’s head, and there was nothing he could do to get rid of them.

Ask the 501st, their general has a wife.

Take a chance and tell the general how you feel about her when she comes back, I think you’ll find that your feelings aren’t actually unrequited.

After trying to ignore it for so long, he knew what he had to do. When you returned to Coruscant, he would confess his love to you, no matter what happened. He just hoped that you were doing okay out there, because he didn’t know how much more waiting he could take.

It wouldn’t be another day until a comm came in from one of the 501st’s ARC troopers on behalf of you and Captain Rex, apologizing for the delay but reporting that everyone was fine, they had unfortunately just suffered a crash landing which delayed the mission’s objective by a few days. Fox had fallen asleep when the message came through, the weight of his fatigue finally winning after a valiant fight, and it was Thorn that intercepted the communication. The ETA for the 501st’s gunship wasn’t for another three hours, so he decided to let his brother sleep a little more before he gave the news.

Fox was annoyed at his fellow commander for not waking him up and he did forget his helmet on his desk in the haste to see you, but he still made it to the docking area in time to watch a gunship touch down and you step out of it, troopers in 501st blue on either side of you. When you took notice of him standing there your expression changed, and a smile crossed your exhaustion ridden face. Immediately, you made your way over to him. There were a few giggles and jokes from the other troopers in the hangar as you did this, but Fox didn’t care enough to listen to what they were saying.

“I’m so sorry we took so long,” you said. “We crash-landed on some Mid-Rim planet’s dense forest and Echo’s comm was the only one that was even half functional, but then we couldn’t get any kind of signal until-”

Fox gently tried to get your attention a few times, but it was only when he grabbed your hand and said your name did you actually stop and look at him. “You don’t have to explain yourself,” he said. “You’re the one in charge here.”

“Still, I told you that this would take four rotations, and it took much longer than that. You said you had something to tell me, I was worried-”

Fox squeezed your hand, and you stopped mid sentence. There was no one else in the hangar right now, so he didn’t have to worry about what this might look like to any bystanders. “What I have to say can wait until you get some food and rest,” he said.

“As long as you get that food and sleep too,” you said. Fox sighed, you had always been able to read him too well. “Come on, you know I don’t like seeing the people I love not taking care of themselves.”

It took him a moment to register your words, and hope swelled in his chest when he did. “Do you mean that?” he asked quietly.

“Of course I do,” you responded. “And it kills me to see you like this, I can tell you haven’t slept much.”

“But you’re a Jedi,” Fox said, still a little dumbfounded. This was definitely not how he saw this conversation going.

“The Jedi Code, while admirable and logical in many ways, was never able to accurately understand how people worked,” you said softly. “It was always inevitable that some people will fall in love and become attached to one another, and I suppose I am one of them.”

You looked at him with such kindness in your eyes, and he couldn’t help the way he leaned in and kissed you. You kissed back immediately, lips melding to his in a way that implied you were nothing but perfect for one another. Any member of the Guard could walk into this hangar, as could any other trooper who had business to attend in one of the parked gunships, but Fox couldn’t bring himself to care.

When you finally broke apart, you squeezed his hand and turned towards the direction of the door. “Come on,” you said. “I want to take a nap, and you’re going to take one with me.”

Fox just nodded as he followed you, still thinking about how nice it felt to kiss you. It was the nicest way that anyone has ever told him to go to sleep (usually that was just Stone or Thire throwing a pillow at his head), and he knew that he would do anything in the galaxy if it meant he could lay in bed with you cuddled up next to him.

- 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!

#commander fox #commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #commander fox x female reader #fox x reader #fox x you #clone wars fanfiction #clone trooper x reader #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction

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deejadabbles · 6 months

Note

hello there, Deeja!!! for the Halloween prompts, may I please request:

“I think someone’s watching us.” + 🎭 masquerade

with Fox or Jesse 💙💙

happy writing!!!

SEV! How did you know that I'm in love with the idea of Fox in a masquerade setting!? I kept getting more and more ideas for this one so I hope they all mesh well together 💙

Among the Hedge Maze (Fox x GN Reader)

Summary: You were desperate to find some alone time with Fox among the chaos of the ball. Hopefully, he gives chase. Rating: T (But Minors DNI) Word Count: 1,801 Warnings: Kissing, reader is GN but is called "vixen" once.

Edit: Here's a good song to listen to while reading Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up /// AO3

Lavish skirts rustled, wine glasses clinked, joyous laughter rang, all colliding with the strings and keys of the live band to create quite the spectacle of sounds. Yes, the grand hall of the senate was alive with celebration tonight. Masked patrons held gloved hands as they twirled about the dancefloor, an enchanting song topping off the scene to craft the perfect image of a fairy tale.

All you needed was your masked prince.

Not that he would ever abide by being called a prince, though you might get away with knight. You would have given anything to see the look on his face when you called him either, but alas, nearly two hours into the party and you had yet to see your beloved commander. There was still hope, though. He had been tasked with mingling tonight, after all, rather than his standard guard duty.

Yes, mingling. Fox was expected to be the face of the troops tonight, and raising money for his brothers was the only thing that could have gotten him to accept such a role without tossing himself out his office window.

It would have been amusing to watch him try his best to schmooze with the Coruscant elite, but you had spent the last two hours rubbing elbows of your own. As much as you loved the party you weren’t about to miss an opportunity to help the troopers.

Now though, now you were craving a break and, once you heard a whisper that the good commander had been pulled into a waltz by the flirtatious dowager Starfield, you decided it was more than time.

You skirted the dance floor, knowing full well that the moment you entered the throng you would be pulled into dance after dance. Still, even given the crowd, you actually managed to spot your Fox. He was stiff as a board, that red and silver mask of his doing nothing to hide how out of his element he was. Dowager Starfield was comically shorter than Fox, practically being able to rest her head on his stomach as he pushed them through the crowd in the moves you had shown him barely more than a week ago.

Though, even out of his element, Fox was more than competent. Despite his stiffness, he moved in the dance just as well as anyone else, showing that the little classes you’d given him in your office weren’t wasted. Maker, was there anything this man couldn’t do?

His strategic side was showing too. You did not miss the way he stuck close to the edge of the dance floor for a quick escape.

Fox wasn’t the only one who could plan, though. Keeping your head high, you moved along the rim of the crowd, always staying where his eyes might spot you while you thought up a fun little game.

You noticed the moment he saw you. The way his eyes widened behind the mask, the way his shoulders lifted…and how he glanced down at the widow who was clinging to him like a prom date. Aw, he didn’t think you were jealous, did he? You flashed him your best smile and watched the very subtle way his back seemed to relax, just a bit.

Perfect timing, too, as the song was drawing to an enchanting end. Keeping your eyes on his, you tilted your head towards the open glass doors not far away, then started to walk towards them.

Confident that he saw and could find some excuse now that the dance was over, you stepped out into the enclosed courtyard.

One thing you loved about these parties was the chance to come here, to the well kept gardens where florals and fauna from all across the galaxy were cultivated. It was a breathtaking sight within this city. There were a couple of guests out on the veranda but, what looked completely deserted, was the small hedge maze at the center of the garden.

By the time you reached its entrance, you glanced over your shoulder and were delighted to see Fox rushing out of the double doors, head turning as he searched for you. The moment he spotted you, you blew him a kiss and darted into the maze.

Excitement filled your chest as you ran, especially when you heard the rustling of greenery behind you. In truth, it wasn’t much of an actual maze, but it was enough to give the tantalizing illusion of a chase. There wasn’t even a need to slow down, you knew he was probably right on your heel, right where you wanted him.

Unfortunately, the hidden little path ended too soon, and let out deep in the heart of the all but deserted garden. Crisp night air filled your lungs as you slowed to a stop and caught your breath. Oddly enough, now that you were still, you realized that you no longer heard Fox’s pursuing footsteps. You peered back into the corridor of hedges, confused. There was no way you had lost him-

Strong arms closed around your waist, pulling you back against a firm chest and causing you to gasp in surprise.

“Caught you, my little vixen,” a voice purred in your ear, which nearly caused your knees to go weak right there.

Instead, you turned your face towards his, finding that your lips were dangerously close. “Have you? Or was this all my grand scheme to finally get you alone?”

He hummed, as he lowered his lips to brush against your neck. “I think it’s both. And thank the maker, if I had to spend one more minute with them, I was ready to say there was a bomb threat in my office.”

You gasped theatrically, “And leave me here to deal with them all alone? How rude.”

“At least you’re used to this sort of thing,” he grumbled, “I was hoping the mask would help them overlook me- isn’t anonymity the whole point of these masquerade things?”

“It’s the illusion of anonymity.” Despite the hold he had on your waist, you turned within his arms so you could face him.

Finally you could take in his appearance up close, the deep red silk with white lining the cuffs and accenting the lapels in swirling patterns. Not to mention the mask made of surprisingly delicate looking metal, whose striking design curved into ears that pierced his curls. Fox looked absolutely stunning.

You hummed playfully as you ran a finger over the red metal, “Of course, if you wanted to stay anonymous, you probably should have worn a less obvious mask, Fox.” Your hand moved to the back of his head and untied the silk strand that held up the animalistic accessory. “You need a mask with a little more mystique.” With your other hand you untied your own mask and, with a bit of maneuvering, managed to secure it on your lover’s handsome face. “There, now they definitely won’t recognize you!”

“Ha ha,” he said dryly, but there was the smallest hint of a smile on his lips.

Then, his eyebrows lifted as he watched you put on his own fox mask. When you looked at him and batted your eyes playfully, you could have sworn you heard his breath hitch.

“Well, how do I look?”

Now his eyes were half lidded, and the arms around your waist tightened. “I think it suits you,” he said, voice low as he leaned in closer to you, “just like I think these colors suit you.” He ran his hand over the scarlet collar of your top, where your chest was exposed. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you wearing my colors,” he whispered, his warm breath touching your lips.

“Maybe I just like the color red,” was your breathless reply and your eyes fluttered shut right when his lips pressed against yours.

You moaned into the kiss, never tiring of the way he felt and tasted. Your arms wrapped around him to pull him closer, deepening the kiss as his lips moved against yours. One of Fox’s hands slid up from your hip, running along your spine until he could cup the back of your neck and press you harder against him.

Lips had just parted, letting his tongue slip in, when he paused. To your dismay he was pulling away the next second, scanning the nearby trees and bushes with narrow eyes.

“I think someone’s watching us,” he whispered to you.

Before you even had the chance to respond, Fox was bending to pick up a decent sized stone from the pebbled path and, with an expert flick of his wrist, sent it shooting like a bullet. Before it even had a chance to hit its target within the bushes, the greenery rustled frantically until two figures fell into view.

Despite their masks and even from this distance, you could tell who they were from the hair styles alone. Their training had them dodging that stone, but even still, Thorn and Hound were caught.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Fox said, arms crossing over his chest.

“We weren’t spying,” Hound assured.

“We just saw you run off and thought we should check on you,” Thorn added without missing a beat.

Fox’s tone took on that commander quality, “And that required you to hide in the bushes?”

“Well yeah, we were taking cover,” Thorn rolled his eyes.

“Optimum camouflage, you know,” Hounded nodded.

“So you two were waiting to…what?” Fox snapped, “Save me from taking a walk with the senator?”

“Walking?” came Hound’s snort.

“Since when do walks need that much tongue?” Thorn muttered.

“Inside. Both of you. Now!”

The dangerous tone may not have actually scared the two, but they at least had enough respect for Fox to turn and hightail it out of there at the order. By the time their footsteps were nothing but an echo in the night, Fox let out a long suffering sigh.

“I’m surrounded by idiots.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and pull him back into your embrace, “You know you love them.”

“I can love idiots,” he grumbled, before letting out another sigh and pressing his forehead to yours. “Sorry if they ruined the moment.”

“They didn’t ruin anything.” You pressed a light kiss to his lips. “Want to go back inside? I think you still owe me a dance.”

He let out a tired hum, “Hm, not inside.” Then, he took your hands and placed them on his shoulders. “We can dance here, just the two of us.”

As if all the social stresses of the day had caught up to him, Fox rested his forehead against your shoulder, taking comfort in the feel of you being so close.

"This is what I wanted all night," he whispered against your skin. "You and me, enjoying the night together."

And with that, he started swaying your bodies to a slow, intimate melody that only the two of you could hear.

Tag List: @sev-on-kamino @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5 @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @moonlightwarriorqueen @briefartnaturewolf @kimiheartblade @littlemissbshine @funeralreunion @chubbyhedgehog @ladytano420 @trixie2023 @mssbridgerton @wizardofrozz @vithepotato @mythical-illustrator

#fox x reader #commander fox x reader #fox x you #commander fox #clone x reader #halloween prompts #clone wars halloween requests #halloween fic #deeja writes

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 8 months

Note

Hfbndndndndndndnndndndndnfndnd

🧡🧡🧡Ori'vod congratulations again🥺🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡 you deserve all of it and more🧡🧡🧡

Luv uuuuuuu Steph🧡🧡🧡

(Saw the one you did with Hunter hfjndndnndndndnd👀🧡)

If it’s okay I would like to request something for the event too:

Fox with the dialogue prompt "I'm here. I've got you. You're safe now."

Anything else i am letting you decide. I am just in need of soft Fox holding me lol and I know for a fact that I will luv the story bfbdnndndndnndnd😂🧡

Promise

Fox x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Fox x Fem!Reader

Tags & Warnings: light angst, hurt/comfort, nightmare

Word Count: 300

Author's Note: Ness, my beloved Kih'vod 🥺 Thank you so much for sending in a request for my event. You know I would write anything for you 😘 Your wish for soft!Fox is my command, darling! I hope you like it! Please enjoy 💚

Fox ran. He ran as fast as he could, sprinting down the dark streets of Coruscant in the rain. His boots splashed in puddles of water, soaking the black fabric under his armor, but he didn’t care. He needed to get home. He needed to get to you. After he received your emergency comm, he tossed his data-pad to a corrie and left without a word.

When Thorn suddenly fell ill, Fox picked up a couple of the night shifts, which meant you were left home alone. He knew you had trouble sleeping and he knew this change would be a struggle for you, but the first few nights seemed to go well, so he didn’t worry as much. Then his worst fears came to life. You had a nightmare and he wasn’t there.

Fox pants as he enters the apartment, dropping his wet armor and kicking his boots off as he crosses the threshold and moves towards the bedroom. He opens the door to find you sitting on the floor, back leaning against the side of the bed with your head buried in your knees. Your muffled tears break his heart.

Fox drops down onto the floor next to you, pulls the duvet off the bed, and drapes it across his lap to put a barrier between you and his damp blacks. He gently shifts you onto his lap, wraps you in the blanket and holds you tight. “Shhh, cyar’ika,” Fox soothes. “I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

“It was so scary,” you cry with a shaky breath. Grabbing fistfuls of the duvet you bury your face into Fox’s neck for comfort. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“I won’t leave,” Fox whispers while rubbing your back.

“Promise?” you ask.

“I promise,” he answers. “Rest here, in my arms.”

Event Masterlist

Masterlist

A03

Tag List: @nahoney22 @kixs-husband @commander-sunshine @sunshinesdaydream @padawancat97 @verndusk @starrrgazingbunny @coraex @lickylickylicky @homemade-clones @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @starrylothcat @moon-wrecked @ladyzirkonia @stunkbiggu

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somedaylazysomeday · 3 months

Text

Tied Up In You

You have been dating Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard for a while. This is a small collection of the experiments, trials, and close moments you two have shared in that time.

Part One - Warnings for piv sex (in flashback and in current tense), mentions of scratching, mentions of marks, mentions of blood, reader descriptions of lingerie, a single spank, use of restraints, light dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), utter fluff toward the end.

Part Two - Warnings for angst, minor dissociation, vague references to being pressured, massage, oral sex (male receiving).

#ink's self reblogs #reblogging previous fanfic february works #star wars #star wars the clone wars #commander fox #commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert fic #fem!reader #lemon #not suitable for minors #minors dni #fox #fox x reader #fox x you

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echoedcrosshairs · 9 months

Text

Foxglove ~ Commander Fox x F reader (part 6)

According the language of flowers Foxglove symbolizes riddles, conundrums and secrets along with ambition and creativity.

Summary: A small fancy caff shops pops up in the senate building. Commander Fox is not amused. Fox tries to be the bigger man to let you be, but after hearing about the breakup and his closes Vod trying to go after you; he most definitely can’t help but protect you.

Slow burn, enemies? to lovers, Commander Fox x reader,

Warnings: Angst, Smut, oral (f receiving), smut, cannon violence and talks of cannon related violence.

Part 5 Part 7 (wip)

Masterlist

I really just want to sleep, you quietly groaned hearing the door slid open. Flicking one eye open you found Kix bringing in a glass of water and a bowl of oatmeal. He saw you still in his shirt, giving you a small smile as he set the food in front of you, "How did you sleep?"

"Had a little trouble going to sleep," you admitted omitting the part it took Fox's face between your face to make you go to sleep.

"I would have assumed the opposite, although with the stress, mild guilt and having two strangers in your front room could do that."

"Yeah, are we going to talk?" you whispered, hissing when the door slide open finding Fives walking in.

"Can't take them anymore," he groaned sitting on the floor infront of the closet, "I rather fight a gundark armorless in the snow."

"Their just so upbeat and happy," Kix said drily filling in the gap, motioning for you to scoot over taking the nourishments setting them on the nightstand, "As clones we never truly have anything we can call our own, we are different people but we are the same person so we tend to share everything."

"Echo and I shared ladies all the time," Fives interjected wiggling his eyebrows.

"Butt out," Kix told him, "As I was going to say, that being said. I can't technically be mad, as a doctor I am aware of physical attraction and how it differs even when people nearly look identical. To be mad at you is to be mad at biology. However I can be mad at him, I'm sorry for that; that wasn't fair to you. You did also fall asleep in my shirt and woke up in it," his voice fluctuated between flat to aggressive to leering as his fingers played with the hem of the shirt around your neck.

"I thought they weren't suppose to know," you said tilting your head to Fives.

"I was referring to Bacara and Neyo, along with everyone else. Fives knew something was different the moment you stopped out of the his office."

"I'm the only one who can keep my mouth shut," he added.

"Bantha crap what time is it?" you said looking at the clock that Kix was intentionally blocking.

"You have 15 minutes before you get ready for work, so until then," Kix wiggled down pulling you to him, "How was it?"

"Kix-"

"I told you it was hot, so spill."

Fire bloomed across your face at his interest, "The best really," you awkward said turning your face away from both of them, the blush spreading to your ear as he gently started petting your cheek pulling you closer to his chest letting his finger trace your spine confirming the fact that you did have a reaction it wasn't as strong. Fives mumbled something about a warning if he needed to close his eyes. You buried your face in Kix's chest hearing him snap him to go back to the front room and reluctantly doing so. Fives walked out finding Fox staring at him and then at the two of you, Fives smirked at him before rummaging around in the kitchen for a snack while getting berated from Neyo about searching a civilians domicile. Fives' remark was curt that they all just broke regulations spending the night there which punctually shut him up. Fox's grip on his knee tightened, I can't lose it again not in front of them. Breath Commander. Finally he realized after watching you both leave the room, Kix joining him in the front room you heading off the refresher.

"Well we have to get back to base, we'll be seeing you commander," Neyo said pointedly slipping his helmet on, Bacara following closely behind him also giving a pointed look before passing through the door.

"You were so jealous," Fives snickered the moment the door closed behind them.

Fox snarled at him to shut up returning his attention back to the holo playing, "Stop staring," he glowered at Kix.

"Not going to join her in the shower?" he poked, "No," Fox gave the quick reply, "Suit yourself." Kix stood in the door way of the refresher keeping his eyes modestly on the floor, "Shower's a little warm," he noted both of the steam and that you jumped.

"You could have coughed," you said taking a few deep breaths.

"Just wanted to see if you got flustered."

"Of course I am," you defended, remember how you invited him to shower with you when he got back feeling another pang of guilt.

"Don't worry I'm not joining their isn't enough time," he said as if he was reading your mind, "and not when he's here," Kix added handing you the towel keeping his eyes focused on the ceiling.

You wrapped the towel around yourself, "Better?" you said rolling your eyes finding him finally looking at you with a sly nod. Shaking your head you walked out of the bathroom finding Fox's eye glued to you as you walked back into your bedroom catching the tiny movement of him putting his helmet on. Disappearing back into your room your quickly through on loose fitting pants and a top because wearing that apron it didn't really matter what was worn. Kix and Fox were bickering of course when you stepped back out finding Fives cackling while trying to compose himself, severely failing. You folded your arms over your chest glaring at both of them, "What happened."

"Kix keeps on purposely making him jealous and he keeps reacting to it," Fives said in broken syllables, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, "Seriously guys, put a wrapper on it and stick it. We have to get the lady to work," Fives managed to get out the innuendo holding it together for the most part.

"He didn't use one," Kix said flatly grabbing his bucket off the table, getting smacked from Fives.

"You seriously let him raw? Vod.." Fives said disappointedly ignoring your redden expression.

"I'm clean," Fox defended.

"You've had sex on the counter of 79's," Fives snorted.

"He is," Kix answered, "I tested him in the hall."

You deadpanned, "You planned it?"

"It's not like you didn't enjoy me," Fox replied flatly.

"Unbelievable," you said tossing your arms up leaving them in the dust as you marched towards the train purposefully sitting upfront trying to have space to mellow out before the start of your shift. In with the peace out with the annoyance, you kept repeating the mantra to yourself with every breath but it didn't help because you were still fuming when you arrived. Silently feeling them tailing you. Practically a storm cloud walking into the building, everyone darted out of your thunderous path. Thankfully today no one crowded the door although there were some troopers waiting, you quickly opened the door and closed it behind you. They made the mistake of following you in.

"Get the fark out," you hissed visually sending them daggers, "Yes me screwing Fox was wrong, but I'm not just toy to hand back and forth," you glared directly at Kix, "Just. Get out," you sighed returning your attention to the coffee in front of you.

Kix tried walking forward but Fives pulled him back shaking his head, "Let her cool down, let's go train."

Fox didn't head the warning he opened to the days holo news, sitting at the table closes to the door. He heard, "That mean's you too!" but he didn't react he just sat there reading until he saw you approach the table with a cup setting it in front of him. "Thank you," he said noticing it was full of caf, he looked up to see the scowl on your face faltered for a moment at his manners.

"Explain yourselves," you said flooding your arms over your chest, I want to know just so maybe the anger will calm down.

"We have chemistry. He wanted to know how much chemistry," Fox took his helmet off, sipping the caf waiting for the snarky reply that had to be forming on your tongue. "We don't have chemistry-" before you finished the sentence Fox shot up one hand on your throat and his lips barely hovering in front of yours. "You're pulse, eye dilation at my proximity and change in breathing say other wise," he pointed out smirked looking down into your wide eyes at the boldness. Gently he pressed his lips into yours releasing his hand after feeling another spike in your heart rate and his cock stirring, "Point made," he said sitting back down to hide the growing discomfort, feeling the warm tingle on his lips from the softness of yours. He let his similar lustful expression gaze into yours, his hand going to his combed back hair gently brushing it back noticing you still weren't convinced.

You don't know what irritated you more, the fact he was right or that he had been so forward about it especially here of all places. Watching him cock his head back towards the tiniest window known to man on the door then back at you an arched his eyebrow. You watched him stand up noticing the very prominent caged erection as he guided you behind the counter where no one could see. The tension coiling your body causing warmth to spread like steeping into a hot bath after a cold day. His hands on either side of you locking you in place, the thought of him having you right here caused a warm gush to course through you. Your cheek flush, embarrassed about the reaction to him.

"Believe me now?" Fox leaned in whispering in your ear, "Or do you need more convincing," he added letting his hand trail closer to your waist.

"Someone is bound to walk in," you stammered out as his fingers traced the curve of your hip.

"No one would dare knowing I'm in here," he amused with a smile that exposed his canines, "All you have to say is that you believe me" he said letting finger trail the top of your pants waiting.

"Kix..." you reminded as if his fingers were on fire came off. You watched his hand pat again the counter in contemplation before pulling back.

"Thanks for the reminder," he said walking back towards the table grabbing his bucket leaving. Fox's jaw hurt from how hard he was keeping it shut and his self restraint in order. Getting back to his office seemingly un-noticed he pressed the button to silence him from the world as he took care of himself letting his anger pound him into bliss. Slumping back in his chair he stared at the white mess that coated his glove. He pulled his desk door open finding his pack of wipes for pta baths for days when he practically lived in his office. He groaned noticing the faint stain on his glove, he ripped them off and tossed them into his desk slamming it shut, "Kark it all," he growled seeing you pounding on his door via his holo notification. He pressed the button, blinds and sound barrier going door, "What," he said looking down at you, his dignity covering his head and arms folded inwards covering his hands.

Gently you tried to push him back into his office but he didn't budge, "Fine. Is it just physical between us?"

"There's nothing between us," he closed the door forcing you back, slumping in the chair and pressing the button holding his hand with his hands. Kix was the better choice, kinder, easier to be tolerant, a genuinely more pleasant man. He took his helmet off staring into the visor, Commander Fox, he scoffed, when was the last time I was ever just Fox?

You stared at the door in your face. Nothing? You did your best to shrug it off for the curious eyes looking. Propping the door wide, you opened the cafe for today doing your best to put them out of your mind. As the day progress you realized he was right, Fox had been nothing but insufferable, constantly degrading you and wiping his exploits in your face at every turn. Their was no way it was anything more then just physical attraction, he got what he wanted and literally slammed the door in your face. You sighed for a what felt like the hundredth time before you finally shot Kix a message to come meet you, but he was already waking in with Fives before his pad went off.

"You rang?" He joked leaning against the side of the counter, "What's up Mesh'la?" he whispered.

"I don't get it," you said shaking your head thankful for the pause in troopers, "attraction, why don't we have more of that?"

"There is a lot about attraction we don't understand," Kix's medic tone came out, "There just is or isn't."

"So you can't make more?" you asked arching an eyebrow.

Kix took your hand staring at you, "Come'ere," he said embracing you against his chest ignoring the looks, "I am more then happy just doing this okay? It's nice having a... friend who doesn't share the same face."

"You're so kind.." you whispered, "why couldn't it..." you didn't need to finish the sentence.

"At this rate it isn't going to be Fox either, so cheer up. I got a million brothers, we'll find the right one," he smiled letting you go, "Just not Fives," he laughed watching his brother feign shock at the off handed comment, "Oh please you'd never settle down."

"You got me there," Fives joked, "Something basic Ma'am" he said looking up at the menu.

"Basic?" You blinked, he seemed less then a basic man but you shrugged getting to work handing him the caf once you were done. "What about your shirt?" you whispered to Kix.

He pulled you around the waist resting his chin on your hand, "I wouldn't be opposed if you kept it, I do like seeing you in it... if you want it for movie nights?" he suggested awkwardly.

"It would be nice," you felt the faintest sensation of lips against your head before Kix pulled off, "Something sweet for me before we head back to training."

"That's fitting," you teased not helping the faintest sensation of pain in your heart at the breakup if you could it that. You handed him the cup and he gave you a smile but you noticed the similar pain in his eyes, the smile not reaching further then his well defined cheeks. You watched as Fives and Him walked off, mentally scolding them for not saying see you later. You sighed again but this time it was more out of relief then anything that it had been so peaceful and relaxed. The peaceful feeling ended when Thorn walked in with Fox who stayed at the door as Thorn walked over.

"I take it I missed something?" Thorn observed Fox staying at the door.

"Yeah, Fox and I fought then Kix and I broke up."

"Do me a favor and make yourself a coffee too. You okay?" he asked quietly.

"As good as I can be, does sour face want one too?" You asked tartly watching Thorn press a button on the side of his bucket but you didn't hear him say anything.

"No but make him a commander, easier to question him when he has that thing off," Thorn chuckled, "So I take it you're going to be avoiding 79's for a while?"

"No actually, I'm pretty sure Kix and Fives are dragging me out tonight."

"Weird break up," Thorn said confused, "but that's good you two are still friends. Well if they don't drag you out, I will just let me know," he said grabbing the two caf's from you.

"Of course..." you looked to find Neyo and Bacara at the door, "Is it to early to close up for the day," you scowled.

"Give me ten minutes and I can handle that," he offered.

"No it's close enough anyway, there's no point." You regretted not taking him up on the offer. Minutes seemed to last for hours, every order seemed to take forever to make even if some of them only took seconds to actually make. You blinked rapidly handing the cold brew to the soldier, my day off is tomorrow; who's going to be here for them? It wasn't something you had worked out in your proposal, you opened your pad shooting the question to the HR rep with a quick reply that Commander Thorn had offered to open the place. Maybe I'll have to come in and try it. You never would have anticipated being relieved when Fives and Kix showed up at the end of the shift kicking people out.

"What's this about?" you asked putting your hands on your hips offering an awkward apology wave to the troopers leaving.

Fives wiggled his eyebrows, "You'll see."

"I'm not sure I like this," you laughed closed everything up, quickly spot cleaning.

"I'm apologizing in advance this wasn't my idea," Kix said looking his hands up.

"I really don't like the sound of this," you said your face contorting into smiling confusion finding Neyo particularly looking at you. His eyes squinting before heading across to Thorns office, "Or the look of that," you grumbled.

Fives put him his arm around you, "Trust me, these two things aren't connected. Now here," he said shoving a bag in your hand.

Opening it you found one of your dresses and heels in it, "How-"

"Don't ask."

He shoed you towards the private refresher down the hall. You stared at the dress wondering what shenanigans they usually got up to but this definitely seemed like one they would. You peeled the the work clothes off giving yourself a make shift awkward pta bath, but the seem of coffee forever lingered. Stepping out, both of them whistled at the change. You scowled feeling awkward in your place of work dressed like this. Noticing them both purposely picked here to make you pass both Thorn and Fox's office. Hearing Fives snicker you knew that was definitely the point. Walking there you kept noticing Kix's eyes shifting, having enough you floated near him, "What is it?"

"Fives is-"

"Shut up Vod," Fives said, "Sorry Ma'am no spoilers," he smiled pulling to away from Kix.

Fox watched the three of them trot by smiling as if the big punch line was him. Not realizing his eyes had lingered on the door he missed the unmistakable shape of Neyo approaching, "I think Bacara is wrong, she's definitely a beauty," his tone was flat as he watched the three of them descend in the lift. Fox's hand faltered his pen clicking again the desk, "I'm chasing your former... Lady Friend? tonight." Fox stared up into his vods well masked face, nothing betrayed what was going through his head.

"She is spoken for," Fox asserted picking his pen back up.

"Not according to the conversation I just had with Commander Thorn, she dissolved their union at lunch apparently."

Fox's pen fell again, a growl graced his lips, "Why."

"As I stated she is a beauty. May the best man win," Neyo gave him a smirk, he not no intention of chasing any woman but no one knew better how to push people's buttons then him. Hopefully be pressed the right one, initially he had come to check in with Fox but after his fair amount of eaves dropping his strategic mind got to work. Unfortunately I am going to have to go to at least make it look like I attempted. Neyo was to dignified to let out the sigh boiling in his chest at the realization. It took a while but he finally heard Fox on his heels as he approached the familiar establishment, "Yes, Commander Fox?"

"Marshal Commander Neyo," Fox growled, "Don't even think about it."

"Is that a threat?" Neyo arched an eyebrow at the unfamiliar tone.

"Yes," Fox shoved Neyo's shoulder forcing him to stare at him, "Vod to Vod, don't think about it." Fox clipped his shoulder with his own as he pushed instead finding you automatically, the shade of red perfectly matching his own. Another punch in the gut. He found you awkwardly dancing with one of Kix's blue brothers as he sat at the bar staring. Kix and Fox's eye met, They had broken up. Fox pulled away first blood boiling watching Neyo cut in. Betrayal, that was the feeling boiling up. He watched Neyo whisper something your ear, the grimace on your face before making your to the bar with him in tow as you sat between him and Kix.

"That's not good," Fox heard Fives voice not realizing he was at the commander's table with Rex.

"What are you doing here Arc?" He said flatly squeezing it.

"Trying to spice them up, to hopefully get some of that Mojo," Fives said pointing a finger between him and you, "between them."

"He's to soft for her," it was just that a statement leaving no room for doubt or to be second guessed, "Neyo is too rough for her."

"What are you? Goldilocks?" Fives scowled, "You have to be kidding me," he looked to find Neyo's hand on your leg chatting with both you and Kix. He saw Neyo's eyes lock briefly with Fox's the short evil grin before returning to his neutral expression, "Well, can't be worse then Dogma I suppose."

"Yes it can," Fox heard enough he got up without thinking about it, shoving Neyo's stool back with his foot making his hand break contact before putting himself between the two of you. His eyes narrowed to slits at his batch mate, both knowing full well what the other was capable of and knowing this wasn't the place for that fight. "I said don't even think about it," his voice was venom laced with a ton that he saved only for war criminals and traitors. Out of the corner of his eye he saw you flinch at the tone but he didn't have time to acknowledge that as he stared down Neyo for authority on the subject. He felt your light fingers tap his spaulder, automatically he softened the frighting expression on his face but didn't break eye contact with the man, "Yes?"

"Nothing, remember? Why are you interrupting."

"Principle."

Fox's balled fist flattened on the table, returning his full attention back to Neyo rage returning. Neyo did nothing but smile at the display. He was aware his even more unreadable then Fox, every inch more sadistic and cruel giving him every advantage, "Nothing, proves she isn't yours either," he chose his words carefully but provokingly. He watched him boldly step back his mouth at your neck leaving a claim before standing back in-front of him, "Have I made myself clear enough?"

"You were always the easiest the read and push," Neyo smiled, "Nothing? Keep lying and face the consequences. I proved my point. Ma'am," Neyo nodded standing up, joining a lurking Bacara in the very back darken booth.

"What the actual fuck was that?" You glared.

"Just him being a chip off the old block just as calculated and," Fox grumbled before turning back to you, the anger and frustration leaving his features. Silently noticing Kix remove himself from the moment. "Even for his usual pokes that was way to far."

"Nothing-."

"We both know I lied."

You stared at him, "Sure," you replied sarcastically, "I'll believe that when womp rats fly." You watch Fox pin you with his body to the counter, your heart starting it's embarrassing flutter.

"One date, just you and I."

"Commander-"

"Just Fox," he took a breath searching your eyes for an answer, "What do you say?"

"One," you breathed, "Fox."

Hearing his name on your lips was enough to make him lose his composure and swallow, pulling back he ran his fingers threw his slicked back hair. What the hell, he yanked his hand away dropping it at his side. He gave a small nod turning to walk off but another small whisper of his name made him cock his head to the side waiting for you against his better judgement trying to ignore the look in your eye or the way your breathing was uneven.

What are you thinking? You scolded yourself looking at him. You may have not understood what he was protecting you from but the commanding rage in his voice had set a shiver coursing through your lower extremities. Then the sudden shift to almost anxious and insecure afterwards had confused you but was almost endearing. You kept direct eye contact with him as you rose from the stool, you whispered his name again before walking passed him. This isn't like me... but it's what I need. The feeling him in you, how his body perfectly fit against yours knowing what you needed before you could think it or how a small tug of his hair made him sinfully groan. You saw the red following you out of the corner of your eye, you didn't want to wait for the train back to your place so you paid for a decent clone friendly cab and top speed. Both of you were silent the whole way, scared one word would snap the attention in the air and both of you would be all over each other. It was a trance walk back to the apartment, awkwardly running into both of the neighbors he had done. After feeling him, you didn't blame them for how loud they were.

Both of you were barely in the door when he forced it shut, dragging you to the couch by your hip. He pushed you down the couch letting his face hover by yours but not touching as he reach down pulling the hem of your taunting red dress up revealing the blue underwear underneath. He clenched his jaw quickly using the vibro blade in his vambrace cutting the thin laced sides of the garment before chucking it to the other side of the room in annoyance. He returned his blade noticing the glistening core for him, watching it coat your inner thighs. Not bothering to take off his armor he pulled you to the edge of the couch dropping to his knees pulling your legs over his shoulders. Fox kissed your swollen need, suckling it between his lips.

"Fark," you moaned, thighs clapped against his face as he inserted two fingers rapidly curling against the spongey spot nestled inside, "Donnn't stop," your hands went to the top of your dress pulling down, realizing the blue mistake Fox's mouth retracted causing the organism to fade. You saw the silently anger coating his features, you dropped your legs from his broad shoulders. Barely breathing as he stood up looming over you, one hand on the garment and one on the back of the couch. Your hands cautiously moved the back of the garment unclipping it feeling him yank it and toss it, landing it perfectly next to the cut up underwear. You stared up into lava threatening to engulf you in its heat, “Fox…?”

“Never wear that color again, understood?” you recognize the commanders order tone.

“Fox-“

“Understood,” he growled.

You nodded, swiftly his hands picked you up pulling you towards the bedroom, dropping you in the bed. He didn’t bother with his armor, dropping his codpiece and undoing his belt so his hand could free him from the constriction of the body suit. Watching him mount you, the cool plastoid bit lightly into the skin as he pushed himself in. Your fingers dug into the back of his neck resistance the urge to find his hair as he continued to split you apart. Fox’s pace was merciless as his temper fumed his thrust. Listening to his hips collide was yours you could hear the gush of your arousal coating both of you. Every time he entered you, the feel of him filling the expanse felt so perfect your mouth opened to tell him but his hand found your mouth covering it.

Watching him shift his weight to his knees to keep his weight off of you, you felt his other hand go to your clit moving wildly, “Cum for me,” he growled, the hand on your mouth moving the dress bunching it up in his fingers. The red so perfect on you he questioned if the color was his or if he wore your color. His thrust got desperate as he continued forcing himself to hold back until you become undone under him. Moaning when your fingers yanked his hair enough to pull some out he finally removed the hand between you firming resting both his palms above your head. The drooling mess of his name reverberated in the room letting his chase his own orgasm coating your insides white with his desire to have you. He felt sweat clinging to his forehead as he stared down at your perfect shape, his hand went to his hair carefully prying your cramped fingers off his hair massaging them. Removing his soak body from yours he saw where his armor had dug into your skin silently cursing himself for not removing them. He watched the white ropes from you running down your ass, he could already feel himself getting hard again at the sight. He striped the armor tossing it to the ground not caring about proper stacks in the moment. Cursing himself harder when checking his belt that he hadn’t restocked the bacta tube, he stared at the deep marks scowling he found his data pad and messaging Thorn to bring some right away, and that it was indeed a discreet order. Fox watched you curl towards the warmth of the blankets wincing as you moved. He whispered your name, “Bacta’s coming.”

The underside of your legs felt like someone had tried to use a dull knife to saw at your muscles, while the pain between your legs ached was blissful everything else wasn’t. You felt a warm cloth go inbetween your legs and the blankets partially pulled over you. Maybe you were a little loopy because your giggled feeling some of the cum bubble out at the action.

“What is it?” Fox asked confused.

“You’re so mean at work and in bed but so soft too, I just didn’t expect it,” you said yawning.

“Stay awake a little longer,” Fox scowled hearing the doorbell, “I’ll be right back.”

Not bothering to put his armor on, just in his blacks, he opened the door finding Thorn standing there his eyes going wide with Kix and a medical bag in hand. Fox’s lips twitched into a snarl, “Just needed the bacta.”

“You also mentioned wounded,” Thorn pointed out trying to keep the smile out of his face.

“What are her injuries,” Kix asked flatly.

“My armor cut into the back of her legs.”

Kix opened the bag pulling out a foreign orange tube handing it to Fox, “Use this instead. Anything else?”

“No.”

“Good,” Kix closed the bag and left.

Fox stared down at the vile, “Did you really have to bring him?”

“Actually he was already on the way with the bag, figured it would look better if we came together. Have a good evening,” Thorn waved jogging after the medic.

Disgruntled Fox closed the door pulling the blanket back exposing the deep red marks, he worked the liquid into the marks with his fingers watching your tension relax. He sat there watching you stretch, slow blinking at him as you stirred. What he wanted to say died on his tongue, “Shower?”

“And water, thank you Fox.”

“For what?”

“Being you.”

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