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crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf · 17 days ago

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"To Rain and Caf Snobbery,"

Fox x F!Reader One Shot*

Summary:

The rain on Coruscant may be artificial, but the way it seems to guide you feels as natural as the force as it brings you to a chance meeting that quickly develops into something wild and unwise.

WC: 5390 - Read on Ao3

*this is just my general "mature rating" specifics:

Content Warning: A Little morbid, depictions of grotesque art and descriptions of dead bodies, smoking, sex in a morgue, unprotected PiV, biting, over-the-clothes, clothes-on sex, casual sex, rough sex.

*might revisit these two at a later date.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

You cursed as the downpour started. The artificial rain coming down on you in a torrent. You must've missed the notice, and it explained why the streets were so empty.

Your heels made wet little splashes as you rushed for sanctuary signified by a blinking neon sign. It read “caf” with a simple cup, the steam rising in glowing alternation inside twisted glass.

The door chimed an electric bell as you ducked into the dingy establishment, leaving a small puddle by the door as you brushed your wet hair out of your eyes. The place was nearly empty, the dark colors soothing despite the stale smell of death sticks in the air.

You sat at the small bar and signaled for the barista who took your order for a cold brewed caf.

While you waited, you pulled out your data pad… no new messages.

You sighed, apparently forgotten.

“Bad news?”

You jumped at the low rumble next to you. The voice came from a figure clad in a dark coat. He was bent over the bar, arms defensively cradling his own cup of steaming caf. You couldn't see much of his face, but the dark olive skin was marred with a patchwork of light scars. The hair falling over his forehead was streaked with a generous amount of gray.

“More like no news,”

You muttered, putting the data pad back in your bag.

“No news is good news in my world,”

“I'm sure…”

You were eyeing your new conversational partner, his intense eyes now looking at you over his folded arm. The chiseled silhouette held familiar features, though he wore them in a haggard kind of way.

Clone.

Any problems you had of course would dwindle in comparison to one of these men… their short brutal lives. You didn't see many of their kind in this part of town despite your close proximity to the Senate and Garrison structures.

Your cup of caf arrived, the ice sloshing as the barista gave it a flourishing swirl before setting it in front of you. Thanking him, you waited till he was a comfortable distance down the bar before drawing a mouthful through the straw.

You winced, smacking your lips in obvious disappointment. They had let the carafe go stale.

The clone chuckled at your displeased expression, a low and dangerous sound.

“You should try mine,”

He slid the porcelain cup closer to you with what seemed like an air of playfulness.

You were suddenly very aware of how cold you were, the steaming cup looking very inviting and making you regret your choice of a cold beverage. You flicked your eyes to the man's golden brown ones, there was no hint of malice but that didn't mean there was no cause for suspicion. You had seen him drinking from the mug himself though…

Ah, Kark it. If it's drugged it's drugged.

You pulled the hot cup closer, tentatively taking a sip-

And winced again. The swill was burnt and acrid.

“Oh this place is just bad at making caf, isn't it?”

He laughed, a short barking sound, that complimented the gravelly rumble of his voice.

“It might be, but it's still better than the stuff in the office,”

“That's a tragedy, I make much better at home,”

He laughed again, amusement dancing in his eyes. They were the usual shape and color for a clone, but they shone brightly in the moment, catching the light so that the soft reds and golds of the cafe lighting made them glow.

“To rain and caf snobbery,”

He tilted the mug towards you before downing a swig. You took another gulp of your chilled drink, pursing your lips at the stale taste.

The noise lifted as the scheduled downpour eased up. You glanced back at the man, and thought about your silent data pad. A wild and unwise idea lit through you.

“You know, mister… uh…”

You looked over at him questioningly.

“Fox. Commander Fox,”

He offered his hand and you shook it,

“Charmed… you know, Commander, my place is nearby if you'd like to try something actually consumable,”

He arched an eyebrow, picking up his mug and downing the rest of the awful caf. The cup hit the counter with a over eager clink and he stood, gesturing with an extended arm,

“After you,”

You allowed him to guide you to the door, his hand at the small of your back warm as you stepped out onto the cold street. Though the rain had stopped, it was still windy and his long dark coat snapped around you as you turned towards your apartment.

“What brings you down this way, Commander?”

“I like the cafes down here… no one tries to find me to put out fires, I get to take an actual breather,”

He reached into his coat, pulling out a crumpled death stick carton. Tapping it on his thigh, he bit at the protruding end before looking down at you with it hanging lazily between his lips.

“You mind?”

“Not at all…Are you on a break now?”

A little disappointment flitted through you, thinking the handsome man accompanying you might have to leave your company soon.

A small spark lit his features for a moment as he lit his vice, taking a long draw before releasing the smoke. A strong arm wrapped about your hips.

“No, I'm off for the night, even more reason to be in hiding,”

He smirked conspiratorially at you, offering the lit stick. Fox held it steady as you drew the smoke into your lungs. He seemed pleased with that and you leaned into him as you led him through the streets to the building your flat was located in. That flicker of disappointment stirred into a flutter through your chest. You looked at the profile of his face again out of the corner of your eye, lit as it was by the burning embers.

There was a prominent scar across his nose, a slight crook to it where it may have broken at some point. His chin was slightly more narrow than the clones on the propaganda posters. He flashed a smile at you, aware of your attention, giving you a glimpse of his canines- unusually prominent. You stifled a shiver as the warm glow of the light over your building's door settled over you. He crushed the spent butt beneath his boot heel as you made your way inside.

The main floor of your apartment building was brighter than the cafe had been, and you suddenly became overly aware of your wet clothes clinging to you. The simple dress shirt stuck to your curves, leaving little to the imagination, the cold making your nip-

You tugged your jacket closed hurriedly.

The doorman caught your eye as he took in your odd surprise guest. He narrowed his expression and you nodded at him so that he relaxed and settled back into his chair…but flashed the hand signal to call him if there was trouble. The concern warmed you a little as you made your way to the lift.

The reality of the situation suddenly dawned on you as the doors slid shut and you found yourself alone with the commander. He was a complete stranger… you watched him out of the corner of your eye as the lift took you higher; chiming as it reached your floor.

The way his footfalls chased your heels brought an unbidden, nightmarish image of a scared child fleeing from the snapping jaws of a ghoul. You shook away the shadowy memory, the feeling of being hunted. Or at least you tried.

He was also watching you, an almost somber look of curiosity in his furrowed brow. It relaxed you a little, your pace down the hall became more sure. Not that he felt safe, quite the contrary… but you found you lacked fear for whatever danger he represented. Whatever trouble this was, you wanted it… were craving it.

The heat of him felt intense through your wet clothes as he drew near while you tapped in the code to your door. His breath felt too close, the way it stirred the few dry strands of hair at your neck.

Then you were inside.

You kicked off your heels, swiping your hand up the wall panel to make the recessed lighting warm the room with soft light.

Fox looked around at the dark colors of the flat, the dim, strategic lighting, the art spotlighted on the walls. He gave a small nod of approval. You could tell he was impressed and pride swelled in your chest, and a little giddy feeling, betraying your attraction to the man.

“What do you do to afford a place like this?”

“It was part of my family's holdings, I’ve only moved in permanently since liquidating their estate.”

He raised a brow at that spurning you to add,

“They died,”

“Oh… I'm sorry,”

You shrugged your shoulders,

“I'm okay, honestly I don't think I was affected by it as much as I should've been… we weren't close.”

You took off your coat, draping it over the back of a chair.

“If you don't mind, I need to change into something dry… then I'll get us that caf”

You turned to your bedroom, catching a soft mutter as you left,

“I mind a little…”

You smiled softly to yourself.

~~~

When you reemerged to the living space, you found him under one of the lit paintings, the one centered to the space. It was tall, the gold frame almost reaching the high ceiling.

He had removed his jacket as well revealing a dark red long sleeve that hugged his broad shoulders in a very pleasing way, highlighting his slimmer hips where it was tucked into the waist and of his dark denim pants. The scarlet coloring stood in contrast to the black leather gloves that gripped the back of the sofa he leaned against as he looked up at the artwork.

“It's called, Grief of the Forceless,”

He turned, eyes flicking over the new black dress you had slipped into. The tight cut, flowing fabric shimmered like ink around your knees as you walked. You glided to his side to look up at the twisted imagery.

The painting was a macab depiction of piled bodies, surreal, exaggerated- racked in obvious pain under a giant foreboding hand reaching over the horizon. It was all splashes of red, white lightning and burnt ashes.

Fox nodded to himself idly.

“I like it,”

Your lips quirked as you shared a glance with him, bemused but heavy with the question of, “what now?”

“How bout that caf?”

“Please… I'm dying to learn what a good cup of caf is like,”

The amused tone made you feel like he was teasing you, but it was hard to tell. Perhaps you simply didn't mind.

You padded over to the bar, and turned the nozzle on a line.

“Hot?”

He nodded, now becoming engrossed with the bookshelves in the adjacent dining room. The paperbacks were expensive antiques.

You pulled the handle, cold, rich colored liquid siphoning from a sealed canister in a fridge below the bar into the carefully poised mug. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you lowered the steam wand into the cool drink.

“Am I noticing a pattern here?”

Fox questioned, withdrawing a paper back, turning it to read the cover, then scanning through the list of digital titles.

The caf in the mug started to froth. You made another cup for yourself and carried them to the dining room, offering one to the commander.

“They’re all murder mysteries, can't get enough of them,”

“You like rather dark things, don't you?”

“Mysteries aren't that dark, Commander. They exist in a world we're no matter how clever or creative a killer is, they're always outsmarted by someone with just a little more wit and righteousness,”

He ran a finger down another book spine, nodding as he read the title,

“I suppose real life is much darker…”

“Much. Killers are rarely caught, murders go unsolved…”

“Hey now, I'm doing the best I can,”

He chuckled and you paused,

“You're with the Corries?”

You had had your suspicions but his nod confirmed them. He turned to you,

“Who were your parents? How'd they die?”

“It doesn't matter,”

“Humor me,”

“Their ship blew up on the dock, it took out the valets as well… no one was able to tell me if it was an accident or an assassination,”

“Would someone want to take out your family,”

“My father had his enemies, my mother too- though those wars were usually petty social affairs,”

He sighed,

“Sounds pretty standard,”

He took a swig from the cup you handed him, eyes widening in what you recognized as uncharacteristic delight.

“That is good, it's so smooth,”

You smirked, pleased with yourself as you added some sweetener to your own mug from the container on the table.

“Told you,”

He took another long sip from the mug, eyes on you as you leaned back against the table, facing him.

The commander seemed to freeze a moment, a decision clicking into place behind his features. He moved to lean beside you, as if the morbid discussion before had awoken a sense of familiar solidarity in him stoked into something comfortable by the smooth caf.

“So, tell me… why'd you bring me back to your place? You that proud of your brewing skills?”

His hand landed on the table next to yours, allowing him to lean into your ear as he spoke.

“Hmm, maybe I was feeling a little reckless… and you were handsome enough to take a risk,”

“Risk? I'm the one alone in a stranger's home, how do I know you didn't spike the caf?”

His tone carried that gruff playfulness you were becoming accustomed to as his breath danced over the nape of your neck.

“Mm, despite my interests I'm harmless, never even seen a dead body before- don't think I could handle making one,”

“Not even your parents?”

“There were no bodies to recover,”

…

“You want to?”

“Make a dead body?”

A puff of air against your neck as he silently laughed,

“See one… I can take you to HQ, I have one on hand, if it suits your… interests”

You hadn't really planned on leaving the flat, might've even been planning on convincing your new friend to stay the night,

“Wouldn't you rather stay here? Where we can get to know each other better… in private?”

His fingers moved, lightly brushing up your forearm.

“What's more intimate than looking into the face of death together?”

The offer was deranged, but the peevish look in his eyes, the smell of caf on his breath, it was tempting. You rose your eyebrow, surprised at yourself as you proceeded,

“Let me get my coat.”

“We'd better hurry,”

His voice followed you to where your jacket and heels were discarded, grabbing his own long coat from the back of the couch.

“It sounds like they plan on hitting us with another downpour soon”

His words were punctuated by a sudden roll of thunder from above.

~~~

He snuck you into the federal precinct through a service door after an oddly giddy jaunt through the dark, wet streets. Laughing as the rain started falling on the two of you, a lightning strike lighting your way. His hand was clasped firmly around yours, leading you with eagerness in every splashing step.

The halls of the place were garishly bright, but mostly empty for the night.

“The morgue is this way,”

He whispered, flashing you a grin, another glimpse of fang. His hand was still holding yours, pulling you along through the halls and it was making your heart race. The whole affair spoke of youthful mischief, sneaking into where you weren't supposed to be.

As the two of you turned a corner, you ran into a clone decked in red armor, wings painted on the side of the scarlet helmet.

“Fox? What are-”

The modulated voice cut short as the visor dipped over your form in its slinky dress. A growl of warning from the commander holding your hand and the soldier abruptly turned on a heel and hurried off in the opposite direction.

“Bring girls here often, Commander?”

“No, even more reason for him to leave me be,”

He led you to the end of the corridor, a marked door that he unlocked with a hurriedly typed code before ushering you inside.

The lights flicked on revealing a small, plain hallway of a room. The back wall was metallic, patterned with round latched doors spaced at even intervals. You heard the door click as Fox set a manual lock. No one would disturb you and a wave of nerves flipped through your stomach. It was one thing to be alone with the man in your flat, here was a different matter and for a moment you spared a thought as to what the kark was wrong with you.

His hands softly gripped your shoulders through your jacket as he whispered into your ear,

“You ready? Can always back out now… if you're scared.”

Scared wasn't the word for it, and you had no interest in showing him your lack of resolve.

“I'm fine… you sure this is okay though?”

“It's not… you shouldn't be anywhere near this place.”

He was pacing the short distance to the wall of doors. Cold lockers you now assumed. Him popping one of the latches with a loud “cachunk” as the door swished aside confirmed your thoughts. With a swift motion he reached into the cubby and pulled the drawer out.

The metal shelf held a plasticine bag, translucent enough that you could make out the palid color of the flesh inside. He raised his brow at you as he reached for the zipper, almost as if he dared you to ask him to stop.

As the bag came undone, you looked down at the face of the man inside. The look of death obvious in his sunken cheeks, the skin of his face and neck still bruised from whatever assault had killed him.

“Who is he?”

“Just some low life thug… killed three of my men during a spice sting,

Karked up thing is… my brothers were incinerated as soon as their bodies were collected. Meanwhile this shyte stain stays in our protective custody until we can confirm a next of kin.

You know, to preserve his dignity.”

His monologue was low with anger, the contempt obvious on his features as he looked down at the dead man. His disquiet was obvious, as if this man had been plaguing his thoughts since before you entered the caf shop. He had gone tense and silent, a darkness in his gaze. You had to wonder,

“Why did you want to show me this?”

Fox blinked, and looked up at you, suddenly looking a little lost.

“I don't know… I suppose I felt… I suppose I wanted you to see something from my world, to understand,”

He suddenly pushed the drawer shut again, slamming the door with a sharp snap that made you jump.

“It seemed like you might…”

You wanted to say that you did, but you weren't entirely sure. Despite your own recent grief, how could you say you really knew what it meant to lose people so frequently, so… inconsequentially.

Your feet seemed to move on their own as you approached the grim man with his back to you. You wrapped your arms around his waist, laying your head against his shoulder making his tight grip on the edge of the door slacken slightly in surprise.

“It's all so fleeting, isn't it?”

You whispered against his coat, still damp from the rain.

He turned in your grasp, wrapping his arms around your back as he came to face you, bringing his lips to yours.

You could still taste the caf on him, the slight bite of smoke as he kissed you. There was desperation in the sudden action, looking for comfort in your embrace. His breath came sharp through his nose as his mouth moved on yours, sliding his tongue between your lips as the kiss became rough, frantic.

You allowed him to move you, his hands guiding your hips to turn. A click and a swish as one of the other empty compartments was opened. He lifted you to sit on the cold, sterile metal of the drawer as he locked it in place.

His narrow hips wedged between your knees as his hands came up to cup you cheeks, sharp teeth catching your lip, tugging at it before kissing you again and again.

As he drew back, eyes searching for yours, you both jumped- startled by a sudden vibration humming from your purse.

The com link inside had finally started ringing.

You looked down at the bag, reaching for it instinctively, pausing when a heavy weight rested against your shoulder. Fox’s brow was against you, his words caressing your neck,

“Don't answer it,”

You didn't say anything, just breathed as the com buzzed.

“Don't, just stay here…stay with me here,”

The rasp of his voice broke your heart. He sounded so tired…

You let the bag fall from your shoulder with a dull clink on the metal drawer before wrapping your arms about his neck. Reassured, his lips pressed to your pulse point, teeth dragging down the length of your neck to your shoulder and back again. The contact felt like electricity as you finally let yourself go, giving yourself to the fleeting moment.

“Fox…”

He groaned softly against your skin before moving back to your lips, pressing against them hard. You felt his coat slip from his shoulders. He swung it behind you, spreading it over the cold metal surface.

“Aren't you the gentleman…”

You breathed against his cheek,

“I'm no gentleman, meshla,”

His tongue dove into your mouth and you moaned around it, heat flooding your core as his posture became domineering.

Not breaking the kiss, he dipped to lift you, laying you back on his jacket while he leaned over you. It was easy for him to run his hands over you like this, the leather of his gloves smooth as they squeezed your breasts through your dress.

His motions became sharp; His hand snapping behind your neck to lift you, the other pulling your coat off and tossing it aside. You cringed in the sudden cold of the room, a problem quickly remedied as he hopped onto the drawer in a fluid motion. Fox's trim bulk pressed down on you, hot through his clothing.

With a needy growl his teeth were at your neck again nipping the soft flesh under your jaw, sucking hard enough to mark you and force your breath to hiss, your gasp sharp. The pain was exquisite, and you reached up to lace your fingers in his greying locks, pulling on them to keep his fangs on you.

Fox's hands kept wandering, down your side, along your thigh. He pushed your knees to the side, making room for his hips to wedge between your legs. The denim of his pants was rough against the soft skin as he ground his pelvis against you.

You gasped, pulling back slightly as the feel of him, hard through the fabric.

“Wait!”

He froze. You only managed another deep breath before he pressed his mouth to yours again, softer than before, carefully,

“You wanted me to have my way with you the second you invited me to your flat… why doubt yourself now?”

You felt your sex clench at his words. He was right of course, you wanted him; The evidence began to pool in your panties as he nuzzled into your neck.

“Give me this… I won't let you regret it,”

He punctuated his request by rubbing the hardened bulge in his jeans against your groin drawing an undignified moan from your lips.

You nodded, a little incoherently, pressing your cheek to his.

“Take me Fox,”

He smiled against your throat, sucking your skin between his teeth with a groan. Your wrists were gathered and held above your head; pinning you there with his left hand, the right slid back down your body. You gasped as his fingers brushed between your legs through your silky dress.

He used two fingers to slowly rub you through the fabric. A languid pace, up and down, slow and firm making you whimper and squirm beneath him. As the tips brushed and circled your clit you jerked, crying out from the sudden pleasure and wincing as your head thunked against the hard surface.

“That won't do…”

He growled, sitting up abruptly to tug his long sleeve off, tucking it behind your head. The shirt had barely hid his toned visage but you couldn't help but drink him in as he leaned over you bare. Your hands now free, you reached out for him, running your hands down his chest; feeling the taught muscle, the smooth dips of blaster scars, the jagged raised bumps from healed tears. Fox leaned into the touch, sighing softly as he continued his attentions on you, rocking back on his calves to look down at you spread beneath him.

He tugged your dress up over your thighs, eyeing the red lace thong underneath with raised eyebrows.

“You like it?”

His eyes flicked to yours. He didn't answer, just flashed you those fangs of his as he shifted down. He pushed your knees to the side as he leaned in, biting your folds through the fabric. You let out a squeak as his teeth grazed your clit, gasping as he did it again. He nuzzled you with his nose, breathing deeply the scent of your arousal.

“You’re so kriffing wet, meshla…”

He was right, the cold air catching the damp skin of your thighs. He blew on the glistening flesh, making the skin bump and pulling a whine of need through you.

Fox chuckled, grabbing the waistband of your panties. He twisted his fingers into the lace and with a sharp tug the delicate fabric tore, exposing you to him. You watched the ruined article disappear into his back pocket before he pinned you again.

His lips locked to yours, hips grinding into you as you felt his hand undoing the belt buckle and buttons at his waist. You wanted him inside you already,

“Hurry, Fox…”

He bit your lip, a jangle out of sight signalling his jeans were undone. You hooked your fingers into the waistband, helping him slide them down. His cock slapped into you as it was freed, firm and ready. Reaching for it, you felt his length, stroking him as he repositioned himself. He lifted one of your knees guiding himself to your dripping pussy. The head slid over your folds, finding the natural nook for it between your legs.

With your thigh wrapped around him, Fox braced himself on his elbow. He watched your face as he slowly began to penetrate you. Inch, by slow, tantalizing inch he filled you; watching your expression with intense concentration. He seemed pleased with the way your brow knit as you gasped, the flush that colored your cheeks. Your nerves were on fire, able to feel the ridge of him sliding into you, every vein on his shaft. You were ready to come undone for him right then and there, quivering as he finished sheathing himself inside of you.

He stayed like that a moment, pinning you with his hips. Leaning in to kiss you, taking his time to feel your lips against his sure and firm, almost possessive. Fox's hand on your thigh pulled your leg around his side and you obliged, wrapping it around him tightly as he started to move.

Short, shallow thrusts. Slow, grinding into you before withdrawing again. You needed more air, pulling your lips away to bury your head against his shoulder, panting at the rippling pleasure coursing through you.

Suddenly his hips snapped, the sudden hard thrust ripping a small scream from your throat;The wave of ecstasy that hit your brain too sudden, and you arched back, thighs wrapping around him even tighter. He smiled down at you as he did it again, slamming into you hard.

“Fox!”

He picked up the pace, brutal thrust one right after another. His belt buckle rattled against the side of the metal shelf, the harsh clatter contrasting the soft, wet pops of his skin meeting yours. You weren't able to make a sound through the onslaught, your body seizing under him as your synapses were set aflame.

“Cum for me,”

He growled into your ear.

That did it.

Your sex clenched around him at the command, body going taught and rigid as a strangled cry escaped you. You're sure you ruined his coat. The com in your discarded purse began to hum again.

You stayed at that high, feeling floaty as your brain swam in the tingling sensation. The only things grounding you to reality being the soft leather of his gloves gripping your thigh, cupping your neck, the half groaned praises in your ear, and of course his hardened shaft hammering into you.

“You feel so good beneath me, meshla…”

He was lost in his own pleasure, whispering almost incoherently into your neck as he fucked you.

“I'm going to… soon, I want to… inside of you,”

Your nails dug into his back as you locked your legs around him,

“Do it… fill me,”

He groaned, something low and feral, his thrusts becoming less measured. His hips snapped erratically into you, overwhelming you over another edge. You bit into his shoulder as you came again, the glove on the back of your neck urging you on,

“Harder,”

He panted.

You flexed your jaw, putting real weight into the bite even as your muscles twitched from climax.

Fox's hips dropped, pinning you flat as he bottomed out in your cunt. The thob of his cock and the grunt in your ear betrayed the finality of his motions.

He held you there, still and poised in the taught throws of climax. He twitched several times, filling you till it gushed around his sheathed cock to run down your already slick skin.

His muscles relaxed, and carefully he settled his weight onto you, wrapping his arms under your back keeping himself firmly buried inside your pussy. He nuzzled your neck, satisfaction dripping from him,

“I needed that,”

…

“Me too,”

~~~

You laid back on his jacket as he inevitably dismounted, boots hitting the floor with a hard thump; Watching with longing as he pulled his jeans back up over his ass hiding it from the perfect vantage you had laying on the morgue self.

Once his belt was done, he turned leaning in to give you pecking kisses as he gently took his shirt from under you. You drank in his musculature before he could hide it with the red fabric. You felt like you could fall for this handsome man, the odd melancholic look that was once again furrowing his brow.

He felt the weight of your gaze on him, reaching to lift your hand to kiss your knuckles, your palm, teeth softly grazing your wrist.

“What now, Commander?”

“You go home…”

He purred it playfully,

“...and I figure out a good excuse to see you again,”

“You need an excuse?”

“Oh yes, and I think I've already came up with a good one,”

He reached down to where your purse had fallen, withdrawing the com and cancelling the call that had started to come through again. You saw him type in a number, presumably sending a message to himself.

“Is that right? What little scheme are you brewing?”

“How about I pull the file for your parent's case, bring you a copy… you said they never shared their findings didn't you,”

Not in so many words, but there had been some bitterness in your exchange with him earlier he seemed to have latched onto.

“You’d do that?”

“Not out of the goodness of my heart… I bring you the file,”

He put his pointer finger to your lips, trailing it down your neck, between your breasts down to the apex of your thighs.

“We get some caf… and we do this again,”

~~~

@hellhoundmaggie @feral-ferrule

Oh, @vodika-vibes not sure if this is your thing, not exactly bent over his desk but if you're still Fox thirsty 🫡

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