#idk where that came from sorry. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jetii · 6 days ago

Text

Risk for Reward

Pairing: Fox x fem!Reader / Fox x Assassin!Reader

Words: 9,107

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! friends with benefits to lovers, Fox and Reader are not good people, casual discussion of murder, 99% smut with some feelings, unprotected sex, naked female clothed male, oral (f receiving), fingering, light breath play (choking), dirty talk

Summary: Fox has been ignoring you. You decide to take matters into your own hands.

A/N: This is a wildly different portrayal of Fox than my previous fic. If you can't tell, I've been watching a lot of crime dramas lately. Thank you @9902sgirl for the request! Prompts below the cut.

500 Follower Celebration Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Prompts: 14. “You look good sitting on my desk, but you’d look even better bent over it.” / 19. “Maybe I should use my binders on you instead.” / 27. “I think you’re hiding something from me, and I’m going to find out what it is.” / 38. “I bet your little panties are soaked, aren’t they? I can practically smell you from here.”

The interrogation has been going on for nearly twenty minutes, and you’re starting to get impatient.

The two troopers stare down at you from the opposite end of a table. Their arms are crossed over their chests, and one is drumming his fingers against his elbow. The other is looking at his datapad, flicking his finger over the screen.

"So?" asks the first one. He has a deep voice, and he sounds like he's had enough of this whole business. You're starting to feel that way yourself.

You shrug.

"Nothing to say?"

"I told you," you say. "I’m not talking to you. I want to speak to your Commander."

"And we've told you, the Commander is busy. So, you talk to us, or not at all."

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, leaning back in your chair. It’s not like Fox to keep you waiting this long. You know he knows you're here. If the clone trooper outside hadn't told him, then the camera in the corner would have. You'd seen the tiny lens in the ceiling when you'd been dragged in here, and the way it had moved ever so slightly as the trooper had shoved you into the room suggested that there was someone on the other side watching you.

Fox must be punishing you.

You sigh, loudly, and look up at the ceiling. You've done nothing wrong. In fact, you'd just done a huge favor for him by taking out those slavers. He should be thanking you, not locking you up. You should be rewarded. Not imprisoned.

"I want to speak to Commander Fox," you repeat, not moving. "If I have to tell you again, I will not be responsible for my actions."

"Yeah, right," says the other clone without looking up. "What are you gonna do? Stare at us to death?"

The door to the room slides open.

"I think you'll find," says a new voice, "that she can do a lot worse than that."

Both of the troopers jump to attention, saluting their commander. You remain seated, staring up at him defiantly.

"Fox," you say, as if you're greeting an old friend.

Fox replies with your name in the same tone, and the troopers exchange a look behind his back. You smirk.

“Take her to my office," he orders, and the troopers move forward, one of them grabbing your arm and pulling you up from the chair. You don't fight them, but you keep your head held high, staring Fox directly in the eyes.

"You have some explaining to do," he says, his voice low and dangerous. You just shrug.

"Let's go, Commander," you say, and you let yourself be escorted out of the room.

He follows behind, his hands clasped behind his back.

The trip to his office is quiet and tense. The only sound is the soft tread of the troopers boots against the floor, and the clicking of your heels. You pass through the security gate, the troopers saluting, and continue on until the four of you are inside Fox's office.

His office is small and cramped, and quite depressing. You're not surprised; most things about the Coruscant Guard are small and cramped and depressing, from what you've seen. It's not the worst place you've ever been, but it's certainly not the nicest, either.

The walls are painted a boring grey, and the room is mostly taken up by his desk, covered in datapads and empty caf cups. There's a window, but the blinds are drawn, and the only decorations are half-scrawled notes on flimsi and the occasional news clipping tacked up on the wall.

You see a blurry photo of you on one of them and lean forward to get a better look, but the clone standing behind you clears his throat, and you straighten back up.

"Nice place you have here," you say, waving your hand at the walls. Fox scoffs.

"You don't like it?"

"It could do with a fresh coat of paint," you reply. You pause, before you add, "Or a clean, at the very least."

"I'll take that into consideration," he says sarcastically. He walks around the desk and sits in his chair, motioning for you to take a seat on the other side.

You remain standing.

"I think you’re hiding something, and I’m going to find out what it is," Fox says, his tone flat and serious, but you know better. You know the real Fox, and you know that this is all just for show. And when he turns to his men, he proves it.

"I’ll take it from here. Get out,” he orders.

"But, sir--" one of them begins.

"Get. Out."

They nod and head towards the door. As they pass you, the first one leans down, whispering in your ear, "Be careful. He's pissed."

"I'm counting on it," you whisper back, and the second clone shoves his elbow into his friend's side. You hear the shuffle of feet as they leave, and the door hisses shut behind them.

Fox leans forward, placing his elbows on the desk and steepling his fingers. You can feel the heat of his gaze on you behind his helmet, and you shift uncomfortably on your feet. You hate when he does this, makes you wait in silence until you give up and speak first, but you can’t deny the thrill that rushes through you every time he does it. And today is no exception. After several minutes, you finally crack.

"What?" you ask, feigning disinterest. You look up at the ceiling, tracing the cracks in the tiles. You count the cracks as you wait for his reply, trying to distract yourself from the way the air in the room feels like it's thickening.

"You've been causing trouble again," he says, breaking the silence.

You laugh, turning your attention back to him. He's still staring at you, but now his arms are crossed, and he's leaning back in his chair, his legs spread apart. His foot is bouncing up and down, his gloved hands clenching and unclenching, and you can tell that he's fighting to keep himself calm. You wonder how long it will take before he snaps. Not too much longer, you suspect.

“What else was I supposed to do?” You sigh dramatically and walk around his desk. Fox’s head follows you, watching you closely. He doesn't speak, doesn't tell you to stop.

So, you don't.

You reach up, taking his helmet in your hands and placing it on the table. His dark hair, streaked with grey, falls over his eyes, and he runs a gloved hand through it, pushing it back off his face. He still doesn’t stop you.

“I haven’t seen you in ages. How was I supposed to get your attention? Send you a message on the Holonet? Or maybe write a letter?” you ask. You walk behind him, running your hand along the edge of the desk as you circle it, stopping just behind his chair.

You lean down close to his ear, dancing your fingers over his pauldron, and he shifts in his seat, straightening his back.

“_Dear Commander Fox, how are you? It's me, the assassin. Remember me? I'm the girl who tried to kill you, but now I'm your biggest fan_,” you say, pitching your voice low. “_Could you please, pretty please, stop ignoring me and go on a date with me?_”

"I don't know," he mutters, tilting his head towards you. His eyes flutter shut, and his breath catches in his throat when you run a finger over his jawline. "How about a comm call, like normal people do?"

“So you can ignore that, too? No, thank you. I'll just stick with shooting criminals."

You rest your hands on his shoulders, your thumbs digging into the muscles of his neck. Fox tilts his head forward, giving you better access, and you begin to knead his skin, easing the knots in his muscles. You can feel the tension in him, coiled up tight like a spring. He's always so tightly wound, ready to strike at a moment's notice, and you can't help but be impressed. You wouldn't want his job. You almost feel bad that you have a hand in making it more difficult for him.

Almost.

He sighs, and the sound goes straight through you, setting your skin on fire. He groans as you hit a particularly painful spot, and you move your hands, focusing your attention on that one area.

"You're always so tense, Fox," you murmur, running your fingers up his neck and into his hair, massaging his scalp. He groans again, the noise sending a rush of heat between your legs. "You should relax more."

"Easier said than done," he says, his voice gruff.

You can tell he's enjoying this, but his hands are clenched tightly on the arms of his chair, and you know he's not going to let go. You know his job is stressful, but you also know how he handles stress. It's what started your relationship in the first place.

It had been an accident, the first time.

You'd been hunting a mark, a man who had escaped prison after murdering several women. He was clever, and cunning, and he was hiding somewhere in the Coruscant Underworld. You'd followed his trail down into the darkness, unaware that the Commander of the Coruscant Guard had been doing the same.

You had caught him at the same time, and after a short and deadly struggle, the man was dead. But the fight had given you both a rush of adrenaline, and the blood still pumping hot through your veins was enough to push the two of you together.

The next day, the story had hit the news.

Commander Fox, hero of the Republic, had stopped an assassination attempt by a dangerous wanted criminal. Commander Fox, hero of the Republic, had managed to subdue the escaped prisoner and apprehend them, saving a member of the senate.

And all of it had been a lie.

Fox had been too ashamed to admit that he'd had his ass handed to him, and that if you hadn't shown up when you had, he'd be dead. And, not wanting the Senate to think less of him, he'd come up with a different version of events.

A version that didn't involve his failure.

You'd been amused by his deception. After all, if he was willing to lie, he'd do anything. And the idea of working with someone who would do anything had appealed to you.

The two of you had worked well together. Too well. It was only a matter of time before you'd begun using each other. Fox would send you the location of a target, and you would handle the elimination. In return, Fox would pay you a cut of Guard funds, and you would make sure that his reports never mentioned any involvement from the Republic's Guard.

The money had been nice, but it wasn't the main reason you did it. You did it because Fox made you feel alive. With him, there was a sense of danger, a spark. He made you feel wild and reckless and free. He was everything you wanted and more.

But the last few weeks had been hell.

Fox had stopped answering your calls. He'd stopped sending you the files. Your money was still deposited into your account, but that didn't mean much when the one person who had made it worthwhile was avoiding you.

So you’d decided to take matters into your own hands and give him a present.

Fox was always complaining about the Underworld, so you'd thought a few dead criminals would cheer him up. Of course, there was also the added bonus that it would force him to deal with you. You'd even wrapped the bodies up for him, to save him the extra trouble.

He hadn't seemed happy to see you.

But you're not giving up that easily. You have a feeling he's just being stubborn, and you're going to break down that wall of ice, even if it means getting frostbite in the process.

You run your hands down his neck, letting them rest on his shoulders. You can feel the heat coming off him, his skin radiating like a sun. He lets out a shaky breath, and you feel him shiver underneath you.

"Do I make things hard for you, Commander?" you ask teasingly, and Fox's mouth twitches.

"Always," he replies, his voice low and rough. You chuckle, and he swallows hard, his throat bobbing. “But not in the way you’re thinking.”

You can see his jaw working as he grinds his teeth together, his lips pressed into a thin line. He's trying so hard not to react, not to give in. But the longer he holds on, the stronger the urge is to make him break.

You let go, enjoying the way he breathes a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing. But the reprieve doesn't last long.

“And what am I thinking?”

You circle the chair again, making your way around until you're facing him, and you lean back against his desk, your hands resting on the edge. You're not touching him, but you're close enough that the slightest movement would put you right back into his personal space. You cross your legs, the skirt of your dress sliding up your thighs, and you can see Fox's eyes dart down. He quickly looks away, pretending he hadn't been staring.

But his eyes are drawn back, and you watch him watching you, his gaze traveling up the length of your body, taking in every inch of you. You feel your heart beating faster, the heat rising to your cheeks, and a pleasant warmth spreads through you.

“Tell me, Fox. What am I thinking?"

His name is a purr on your lips, and he groans, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. His eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, you think he's going to reach out and grab you. You hold your breath, waiting. But he doesn't.

"You're thinking that I'm going to lose control and fuck you right here, right now," he says, his voice husky. “You’re thinking that I’m going to tell you that you look good sitting on my desk, but that it would look even better bent over it."

His words send a rush of heat through you, and you press your legs together, trying to relieve the ache building there. But his words have only made the need worse, and you find yourself wanting him, needing him.

"And are you going to do that?"

"No," he growls, and his voice sends shivers down your spine. He leans back in his chair, the leather creaking, and crosses his arms over his chest. "You've wasted my time and disrupted the entire sector. You think a little teasing is going to get you what you want?"

He shakes his head, his expression stern, but there's something about the way he's looking at you that makes you think he doesn't really believe that. And if he doesn't believe it, then maybe you can use that to your advantage.

You stand up from the desk, walking towards him. His eyes follow your every move, and he leans forward, his hands gripping the armrests. You can see his chest rise and fall with each breath, and you can hear his pulse quickening. He's as turned on as you are, and the knowledge sends a thrill through you.

You step between his legs, and his knees bump into yours. You lean down, your face inches from his, close enough that you can see every detail. His eyes are a deep brown, like his hair, and his face is worn, and tired, but no less handsome for it. He's older than most of the clones, and the stress of the war has aged him even more. There are faint lines on his forehead, and a permanent scowl has made its home between his eyebrows.

But there's something else there, too. A softness, a kindness. A hint of something that's not quite sadness, but isn't far off either. Something that's been worn down by the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders.

"So, if I'm not going to get what I want," you whisper, "then what are we going to do about this?"

Your hand rests on his thigh, and you feel him tense under your touch. His eyes drop to where your fingers are pressed against his leg, and you slowly begin to move them, tracing a lazy path up his inner thigh. His breathing becomes ragged, and you can see the muscles in his neck tighten.

Before you can reach his codpiece, Fox’s hand snaps out, grabbing your wrist. His grip is tight, almost painful, but you don't try to pull away. Instead, you lean in closer, pressing your body against his. He's so close, his lips inches from yours, and you can almost taste the kiss that hangs between you.

“Don’t test me," he says, his voice a growl.

"What are you going to do?" you taunt. "Are you going to arrest me? Put me in cuffs? Because, honestly, I've been thinking about that since I got here. It might even be worth it."

You're pushing his buttons, and you know it, but the temptation is too strong. You've wanted this for weeks, and now that you're finally close enough to touch, you're not going to back down.

Fox is silent, and his expression is unreadable. You don't know if he's going to snap, or if he's going to let you win this game.

His fingers flex against your wrist, and he lets out a low chuckle. It's a dark, dangerous sound, and it sends a shiver of excitement through you. He pulls your hand away from his body and stands, forcing you back.

“Maybe I should use my binders on you, if that's what you really want," he says, his voice dropping an octave, and his hand moves to his belt. You can see his fingers curling around the cold metal, and a thrill runs through you. “It would serve you right. After everything you've done, all the trouble you've caused, the least you deserve is a night in a cell."

He moves towards you, his hand still on his belt, and your heart beats faster. You're not afraid, not exactly, but you can't help the way your breath catches in your throat.

"But I have a better idea," he continues, and he takes a step forward, backing you up against the desk. You can feel the edge of the wood pressing into your thighs, and you lean back, giving him more room. He follows, his body close to yours, the weight of him pressing you into the hard surface. You can see the way his pupils are blown wide, his eyes fixed on your lips, and you know that you're wearing him down. He wants this as much as you do.

You tilt your chin up, brushing your nose against his, and his lips part, his breath ghosting over yours. Your heart skips a beat, and your stomach is in knots, but it's not the bad kind, the kind you get before a kill. No, this is the kind you've come to associate with him, the anticipation of what's to come.

His hand moves to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair, and he tugs, tilting your head back. His lips brush against the column of your throat, and a gasp escapes your mouth. You can feel him smiling against your skin, and he pulls back, his eyes dark and hungry.

"If you want to play a game," he says, "then we'll play a game."

Fox steps back, releasing his hold on you, and you almost whine at the loss of contact. He smirks, clearly pleased by the effect he's having on you, and turns his attention to the door. He presses a button, and the lock clicks, sealing the two of you inside.

He turns back to you, his gaze intense, and you can't look away. He's watching you like a predator, and you're the prey. The thought sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you shift uncomfortably, the ache between your legs growing stronger.

"So, what's the game?" you ask, trying to sound confident. But your voice wavers, betraying the lust simmering inside you.

"It's simple," he says, stepping towards you. "You answer my questions, and I'll give you what you want."

You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

"That's it? That's the game?"

"That's the game," he says.

"What if I don't feel like playing?"

"Then we'll both be disappointed," he replies, his tone serious.

You narrow your eyes at him, and he stares back, his gaze unwavering. The tension in the room is thick, and the air crackles with anticipation. You know you can't back down.

"Fine," you say, "let's play."

"Good," he says, his mouth curling into a smirk. "Turn around."

You hesitate for a moment, and he raises an eyebrow at you, challenging you. You take a deep breath and turn, placing your hands on the desk and leaning forward.

You hear him walk behind you, his boots clicking on the floor, and you try to keep your breathing steady, to not let him know how nervous you are.

"Now," he says, his voice close to your ear. "Let's start with the easy questions. How many people did you kill tonight?"

You roll your eyes. "Five."

"Five?" he repeats, his voice laced with mock surprise. "Well, that's more than usual. I guess you really missed me."

You scoff, but don't respond. He's not wrong. You had missed him.

"What was their crime?" he asks.

"The same as always. Slavery, sex trafficking, the usual."

"I see," he says, his fingers brushing against the small of your back. You jump, and he chuckles and backs away. “How did you find them?"

"A little bit of detective work, a little bit of luck," you reply, your voice breathy. You can feel his presence behind you, but you can't see him, and it's driving you crazy.

"And where are their bodies now?"

"You already know the answer to that," you say, rolling your eyes.

"I want to hear you say it."

"Fine. They're outside, waiting for you. I even left a nice, shiny bow on them."

"Good.” You're rewarded with the sound of his gloves coming off, and you suppress a shudder.

"Did anyone see you?"

"Of course not," you say, and he tuts.

"That's not a real answer."

"No one saw me," you insist. You don't have time for this. If he doesn't hurry up and do something, you're going to go insane. “I'm not an amateur. I covered my tracks, and I destroyed all the security footage."

"You've been busy," he murmurs. You bite your lip, trying to stay focused, but it's hard when all you can think about is the way his hands feel on your body, the way his lips taste against yours.

"Yes," you say, the word coming out more like a gasp than an answer. You clench your fists, digging your nails into the palm of your hand, trying to distract yourself from the ache between your legs.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice teasing. "Am I making things hard for you?"

You let out a frustrated noise, and he laughs, the sound low and warm.

“I’d offer to stop, but I don’t think you want me to,” he hums. “I bet your little panties are soaked, aren’t they? I can practically smell you from here.”

You don't reply, but the way your hips buck forward betrays your desire. You hear him suck in a breath, and then he's moving behind you, his body close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him.

The first touch of his bare hands against your skin is like fire, and a shudder runs through you. Fox pulls your hair back, exposing the nape of your neck, and you feel his breath ghosting over your skin. His fingers trail down the length of your spine, leaving a blazing trail in their wake, and you bite your lip, trying to keep from making a sound.

His hands move lower, his fingers curling around the hem of your dress, and he slowly begins to pull it up, revealing your bare legs. You can feel the cool air on your exposed skin, and goosebumps prickle across your body. He continues his agonizingly slow pace, and you can feel his calloused fingertips brushing against the backs of your thighs, sending sparks through you.

“Why did you do it?" Fox asks, his voice low and rough.

"I told you, I missed you," you reply, gasping as his fingers brush against the curve of your ass.

"Try again," he says, his thumb dipping between your legs, teasing the edge of your panties. You buck your hips back, desperate for more contact, and he lets out a low groan. "Answer the question."

"I... I wanted to get your attention," you admit, the words coming out in a rush.

"Why?"

"Because you’re a stubborn asshole," you hiss. "Because I'm selfish, and I don't like being ignored."

His hand pulls away, and you can feel him stepping back. The loss of his touch leaves you cold and aching, and you want nothing more than to turn around and pull him back to you. But you resist, your hands gripping the edge of the desk.

"Is that all?" he asks softly.

You swallow hard, and take a deep breath. You don't know why you're suddenly feeling so nervous, but the air feels heavy, and there's a tension in the room that wasn't there before.

"No," you murmur.

"Tell me why you really did it," he says, and his voice is gentle, almost pleading.

You close your eyes and take another deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. This isn't just a game anymore. This is something else, something more. And you're not sure if you're ready for it.

You could lie, but he would see right through it. You could tell the truth, but it would mean admitting how much power he has over you, and that's something you've never been comfortable with.

You sigh and drop your head, letting your hair fall in front of your face.

"I don't know," you mutter, the words catching in your throat. "I just... I wanted to do something for you. I wanted to make things easier for you, even if it was just a little bit. You're always busy with paperwork and politics and bureaucracy. I thought maybe, if I got rid of some criminals, it would lighten the load a little. Make your job easier. I just wanted to help. It's stupid, I know, but..."

Your voice trails off, and you shrug, a self-deprecating laugh escaping your lips. You can feel the flush creeping up your neck, and you squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to see his reaction.

You're not used to this kind of vulnerability. You're not used to feeling so exposed. But there's something about Fox that makes you want to let your guard down, to let him in. Something that makes you trust him.

And maybe that's why you're so afraid.

Fox doesn't say anything for a long time. The silence stretches out between you, and the only sound is the distant hum of the air vent, and the beating of your heart in your ears.

You're starting to think he's not going to say anything, that you're going to be stuck in this moment forever, when he finally breaks the silence.

"Turn around.”

The softness of his voice catches you off guard. You freeze, unsure if you heard him right, and your eyes flutter open. "Turn around."

“You don’t have any more questions?" you ask, the words coming out shaky.

"No, I'm done with the questions," he mutters. "I've gotten what I wanted."

You hesitate, but then slowly turn to face him, bracing yourself for whatever reaction is coming. You're not sure what to expect, but you're prepared for the worst.

But when you look at him, his eyes are wide, and they're filled with something you haven't seen before. It's not desire, or lust. It's something deeper, something more.

Fox takes a step forward, his gaze never leaving yours, and his hands reach out and cup your face. You lean into his touch, and his thumbs stroke your cheeks, his touch gentle and warm. He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours, and closes his eyes.

"You are," he breathes, and his lips brush against yours, the ghost of a kiss. "You are something else."

Your heart skips a beat, and a lump forms in your throat. There are a million things you want to say, but the words won't come. You stand there, frozen, your eyes locked on his, and a thousand emotions pass between the two of you.

He smiles, and it's a real smile, the first one you've ever seen. And it takes your breath away.

"Do you know how much trouble you cause for me?" he asks, and there's a hint of laughter in his voice. "How many headaches, and sleepless nights, and angry senators? How many times I've had to lie, to make up stories, to cover for you? Do you have any idea what you've done to my career, my life?"

You swallow hard, and look down, guilt rising in your chest. You knew it was bad, but not this bad. Not bad enough to ruin his life.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, and the words feel hollow, even to your own ears.

Fox lets out a deep sigh, and his thumbs move back and forth over your skin. His touch is comforting, and it eases some of the tension that's been building inside you.

"Yeah, well," he starts. He leans down, and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "So am I."

"What do you have to be sorry for?"

"I've been neglecting you. I've been pushing you away and treating you like a nuisance. You're not a nuisance," he says, his voice dropping low, and his hands slide down your body, wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. "You're the most incredible person I've ever met. And I've been an idiot."

"I don't understand," you mumble. Your mind is racing, and you're struggling to process what he's saying. It's too good to be true.

"I care about you," he says, and his arms tighten around you, like he's afraid you'll try to run away. You might, if it wasn't for the way his voice sounds so sincere, so vulnerable. "I've never cared about anyone the way I care about you. And that scares me. I'm not good at this. I don't know what I'm doing. But I want to try. If you'll have me."

You take a deep breath, and a million different emotions rush through you. Excitement, fear, relief, happiness, all of them swirling together in a storm of feelings. You let out a shaky laugh, and tears sting at the corner of your eyes.

"You mean it?" you ask, not trusting your ears.

"Of course I mean it," he says, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone. "You think I'd let anyone else talk to me like this? Treat me like this? You think I'd put up with your shit if I didn't?"

"I guess not," you say, smiling sheepishly. You look down, staring at his chest, and your hands curl around the edges of his armor, gripping the cool metal.

He places a finger under your chin and lifts your head, his eyes locking onto yours. You can see the emotion in them, the earnestness, and it takes your breath away.

"I want you," he murmurs, and the words send a shiver down your spine.

"You have me," you whisper back.

The two of you stand there, suspended in time, until Fox finally breaks the silence.

"I can't believe you wrapped their bodies for me," he says, the hint of a laugh in his voice. "That was..."

"Romantic?" you offer.

"No," he chuckles, shaking his head. "I was going to say thoughtful. Which is not a word I thought would ever apply to you. But now, I'm not so sure.”

"Well, maybe that'll teach you to underestimate me," you say, grinning up at him.

Fox rolls his eyes, but his expression is playful, and he leans down, his lips brushing against yours.

"I guess it will," he says, and his hands move down, curling around the backs of your thighs. He lifts you up, placing you on the desk, and his body moves between your legs, his hands resting on your hips. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and he groans, his lips finding yours.

The kiss is soft and slow, and it's unlike any other the two of you have shared. It's gentle, and full of promise, and it sends a warmth spreading through you. His hands are moving up and down your sides, stroking the curves of your body, and his lips are exploring every inch of your skin, tasting and teasing and torturing.

You kiss him until the air is gone, and you're left gasping, your head spinning. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging and pulling and trying to get him as close as possible, because the space between you is too much, too far.

Fox's lips trail down your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin, and a moan escapes your mouth. You can feel him smiling against your skin, and his hand slides up your thigh, slipping under the hem of your dress. He drags his fingers along the inside of your leg, teasing and tantalizing, and your breath hitches, a whine catching in the back of your throat.

"Now, if we're finished talking," he whispers, his mouth pressed against the curve of your jaw, "I believe I owe you a reward."

"Finally," you gasp, and he laughs, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin between your legs.

You moan, arching into his touch, and he continues his torturous movements, his hands moving over every inch of you. His touch is slow and deliberate, and he's taking his time, enjoying every sound, every movement, every shiver that runs through you. He's in no rush, and he's savoring every moment, every sensation, every second.

It's maddening, and it's intoxicating, and you want nothing more than to surrender to his control. So you give in, letting him have his way, and he takes his time, teasing and tempting and testing, until you're a writhing mess, begging him for release.

When he finally drops to his knees and puts his mouth on you, it's a relief and a torment. His tongue swipes up between your folds, and the moan that escapes you is almost obscene. You grip the edge of the desk and lean back, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, and his name spills from your lips.

Fox has always been skilled with his mouth, and he knows exactly what you like. He laps at your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves with his tongue. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, and the softness of his lips as he presses a kiss to your mound.

You rock your hips, and his hands move to your thighs, holding you still as he sucks and licks and devours you. The pleasure is overwhelming, and it's all you can do not to fall apart. Your legs tremble, and your toes curl, and the ache inside you grows with every passing second.

You can feel the pressure building, and you know it won't be long before you come undone. Fox can sense it too, and his movements become faster, his tongue moving with a desperation that matches your own.

"Fuck, Fox," you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair.

He hums, his eyes flicking up to yours, and the sight of him on his knees for you, his mouth between your legs, his tongue worshipping your cunt, is almost enough to send you over the edge. His pupils are blown wide, his eyes dark and hungry, and there's an intensity to his gaze that sends a shudder through you. It's a look that you know well, and it fills you with pride. He's a powerful man, but he's willing to kneel for you. He's willing to worship you. He's willing to give himself to you, and that knowledge sends a thrill of power through you.

"I'm going to..." you begin, and the words die on your lips as a moan rips through you. You're so close, the edge just out of reach. Fox can feel it, too, and his hands move from your thighs, his fingers curling around the waistband of your panties. He pulls them down, his lips never leaving your cunt, and you kick them off.

You can feel the coil inside you tightening, and your legs begin to shake, the pressure becoming unbearable. Your breathing becomes ragged, and your heart is pounding, the heat inside you burning hotter and hotter with every passing second. You're on the verge of losing control, and Fox's grip on your thighs tightens, keeping you grounded.

And then, just as the pleasure is about to crest, his fingers join his mouth, and he slides two inside you, curling them upwards, pressing into the spot that makes you see stars. It's too much, and you come, hard and fast and intense.

The world falls away, and all you can feel is the pleasure crashing over you, the ecstasy pulsing through your body. You cry out, his name falling from your lips over and over, like a prayer. And Fox doesn't stop, his tongue and fingers working together, bringing you to heights you didn't know were possible.

You're not sure how long it lasts, but when you finally come back down, your legs are clamped around his head, and your knuckles are white from gripping the desk so tightly. Fox is still on his knees, his mouth against your core, and his eyes are fixed on you, his gaze filled with adoration.

You let go of his hair and fall back, breathing heavily, and he presses one last kiss to your thigh before he stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You sit up and pull him close, his body pressed against yours. His hands move over you, stroking your sides and his lips find yours, the taste of yourself still lingering on his tongue.

"Was that the kind of reward you had in mind?" Fox asks, his voice husky.

"Better," you murmur. "Much better."

"Good," he says, and he presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

He pulls back, and you miss the warmth of his body immediately. You watch him as he walks around the desk, taking his place behind his chair. He sits down, and the leather creaks under his weight.

"Take off your dress," he orders, and his voice is rough and low.

You comply, lifting the fabric over your head and tossing it aside. You sit naked on his desk, and his eyes rake over you, drinking in every inch. His gaze is intense, and you can see the desire burning in his eyes. It's a look that sends a shiver of excitement through you, and your core clenches at the thought of him inside you.

"Now, the shoes," he says, and you can hear the need in his voice. You unbuckle the straps of your heels and slip them off, letting them fall to the floor.

He takes a deep breath, and you can see him struggling to stay in control. His jaw is clenched, and his hands are gripping the armrests, the leather squeaking under his grasp. You're tempted to push him, to see how long he can last before he snaps, but you decide to let him have his fun. At least, for now.

You move to remove the stockings, but his hand shoots out, and he grabs your wrist, stopping you.

"No," he says, his voice low. "Leave those on."

"Why?"

"Because I said so," he replies as he drops your wrist, his eyes fixed on the silky fabric stretched across your thighs.

You smirk and lean back on your hands, your legs dangling off the edge of the desk. You part them, giving him a clear view of the wetness coating your skin, and his breath hitches.

"If that's what you want, Commander," you say, and the title slips off your tongue, and you watch him struggle to contain his emotions.

"It is," he growls, his eyes narrowing.

You cross your legs, the silk sliding against your skin, and a flush spreads across his cheeks. You can see the muscles in his jaw working, his teeth grinding together. He's trying so hard to keep his composure, but the sight of you, sitting naked in front of him, is clearly having an effect on him.

"Do you like them?" you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice. "They're new. I got them just for you."

"Of course you did," he mutters. He shifts in his seat, and the leather creaks, the sound loud in the silent room. “Everything you do is just to get a reaction from me, isn't it? To make my life harder."

"That's not true," you reply. "Sometimes, I do things just because they're fun."

Fox rolls his eyes, but his expression is soft, and you can see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. You know that he's not actually upset with you, but you also know that the banter is one of the reasons he's so attracted to you. It's a game, one that the two of you have perfected, and you wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Come here," he orders.

You slip off the desk and walk towards him, his eyes following your every move. You stop in front of him, and he reaches out, his hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his lap. He positions you so that you're straddling him, your knees pressed into the chair. Your hands rest on his chest, the cool armor a contrast to the heat coming off his body.

His hands move down, and he cups your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. You can feel the tension coiled inside him, and it mirrors your own. You lean forward, brushing your nose against his, and you can feel his breath on your lips, the heat between you almost suffocating.

"What do you want, Commander?" you ask, and your voice is low and teasing.

"I want to fuck you," he says, and the words are rough, like they've been dragged out of him.

"Is that all?"

"No," he admits, his gaze flicking up to yours. There's something else there, something deeper, and the emotion takes your breath away. "I want you. I want this."

Your heart skips a beat, and a warmth spreads through you, melting away the last traces of the ice that had formed between the two of you. This is more than a game, more than a chase. This is something real, something that's been building for a long time.

You smile, and his lips curl into a grin.

"Then take what you want, Commander."

His hands tighten on your ass, and he lifts you up, the plastoid of his codpiece rubbing against the inside of your thighs. You reach down, unclasping the armor and setting it aside, and he lets out a relieved sigh as the pressure is removed. His hands move to the waistband of his blacks, and he pushes them down, freeing his erection. He wraps his fingers around his length, and the sight sends a wave of arousal through you.

You position yourself above him, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. You can feel the heat coming off him, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to sink onto him. But you want him to make the first move, to be the one to claim you.

Fox's fingers dig into your hips, and he slowly lowers you, his cock stretching you as he fills you. You can't help but let out a groan, and his breath catches in his throat.

"Fuck," he hisses, his head tilting back, his eyes fluttering shut.

You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him as he continues to guide you down, his hips rocking up to meet yours. The glide of his length is delicious, and you can feel the heat spreading through your body, the pleasure building.

"Is this what you wanted?" you ask, your voice breathy.

"Yes," he gasps.

"Does it feel good?"

"Fuck, yes," he groans, his hands gripping your hips. He lifts you up and slams you back down, the force of it making you cry out.

"How long have you been waiting for this?"

"Too fucking long," he grunts.

He pulls you against him, his chest pressed to yours, and the sensation of the cool armor against your bare skin makes you shiver. He's so close, and it's intoxicating. The scent of his cologne, the feeling of his body against yours, the taste of his lips, the way his hands move over your skin. It's all so much, and you're overwhelmed.

You roll your hips, and the two of you move together, the rhythm slow and steady. It's not enough, and you both know it, but it's a start. The tension is still there, simmering under the surface, but you're determined to take things slow.

His fingers trace circles on the small of your back, and his touch is gentle, almost reverent. He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours, and the kiss is soft and tender. It's everything you've been wanting, and it sends a wave of emotion crashing over you.

"Fox," you murmur against his mouth.

"Hm?"

"I..."

The words die on your lips, and you let out a shaky breath, the tension in your chest building. You don't know why it's so hard to say, but the words are stuck in your throat.

"I know," he whispers, his voice soft and reassuring.

He doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't have to. His lips find yours again, and he kisses you, slow and deep and full of promise. And as the two of you move together, the ache inside you begins to ease, replaced by a warmth that spreads through your entire body.

It's not going to last long. The desire is too intense, the need too great. You're both chasing the release that's been building, the promise of ecstasy on the horizon

You pick up the pace, the rhythm becoming faster, more desperate. Fox's hands move to your ass, gripping the soft flesh, and his fingers dig into your skin, the bite of his nails adding to the pleasure.

"Harder," you gasp, and he complies, his cock driving into you, filling you up.

Your arms tighten around his neck, and your forehead rests against his, your breaths mingling. The room is filled with the sound of your moans and gasps, and the creaking of the leather as you move together. It's intoxicating, and the only thing that exists in this moment is the two of you, and the pleasure that's threatening to consume you.

Fox's lips find yours again, his mouth hot and hungry, and his hand drifts up to your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. His other hand moves down, and his fingers find your clit, his touch sending a jolt through you. You're already so close, the tension inside you nearing its breaking point, and you know it won't be long before you snap.

He picks up the pace, and the pleasure becomes overwhelming, the heat building inside you until it's almost unbearable. The hand on your neck squeezes, and you can feel the pressure, the threat of pain, but it's not enough. You want more. You need more.

"Fox," you gasp. "I'm so close. Please, I need..."

He groans, and his hips snap up, the thrusts coming faster and harder. His hand tightens on your throat, and the air is stolen from your lungs, the pressure building until it's almost unbearable. Your mind is a haze, the pleasure drowning out everything else.

"I've got you," he breathes.

And then the world falls away, and all that's left is the white-hot pleasure. The orgasm hits you, and the cry that tears through you is primal, raw, and full of need. Fox's grip on your neck tightens, and his thrusts become more erratic, the pleasure spilling over and washing away the tension.

He follows after, his cock throbbing inside you, the heat spreading through your core. His grip loosens, and his hands move down, holding your waist as you twitch and writhe against him. You ride out the wave of pleasure, clinging to him, the two of you lost in the ecstasy.

When the world finally returns, he's cradling you in his arms, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You can feel the dampness on his cheeks, and his breath is warm and unsteady.

"Fox?"

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?"

He laughs, the sound muffled against your skin.

"Yeah," he murmurs. "Yeah, I'm good. That was... That was incredible."

You smile and place a soft kiss on his cheek. The two of you stay there, wrapped in each other's arms, neither one wanting to break the moment. But eventually, the practicalities of the situation come calling.

"As much as I'd love to stay here," you say, "I have a feeling we're about to get company."

"I know," Fox sighs. He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth and slowly pulls away, his hands moving over you, tracing the curves of your body. "We should get cleaned up."

He helps you stand, and the two of you begin the process of getting dressed. You gather your clothes, slipping back into the dress, and he pulls up his blacks, his hands moving to reattach his armor.

You’re leaning against the edge of his desk, slipping your heels on when Fox steps behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist, his lips pressed against your shoulder.

"When can I see you again?" he asks, his voice husky.

"Whenever you want," you reply, smiling. "I'm sure I'll get bored without you soon enough."

He chuckles and presses a kiss to the nape of your neck. "Tonight."

"I think that can be arranged."

Fox hums, and his hands move down, his fingers curling around the edges of your dress. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, and the desire stirs inside you.

"Don't start something you can't finish," you warn.

"Who says I can't finish it?" he murmurs.

"Fox."

"Can you blame me?" he says, and his hands move lower, tracing the curve of your hips. "You're fucking gorgeous, and you're mine. How am I supposed to keep my hands off you?"

"I didn't realize I belonged to you," you say, smirking.

"Well, now you do," he replies, his lips finding the nape of your neck.

You smile and turn, pressing a kiss to his mouth. The two of you linger there, enjoying the closeness, the intimacy.

"So," you start, pulling back, "where do we go from here?"

"Wherever you want," he says, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"What if I said I wanted to go home?"

"I'd say I’ll meet you there in three hours," he replies, and a thrill runs through you at the thought. "And I'd tell you not to get started without me."

"Deal," you murmur.

"Good," he says, his tone turning serious. "Because I'm not done with you. Not by a long shot."

"Neither am I."

He smirks, and his hand moves down, squeezing your ass.

"Good," he growls, and the lust in his voice is clear. "Because I plan on keeping you up all night."

The two of you separate, and he walks towards the door, his posture shifting, his commander facade returning. He reaches out, his fingers resting on the control panel, and turns back to you with an intense gaze.

"Don't think I'm letting you off the hook," he says, and his voice is cold and hard. "You're still in a lot of trouble. But, for now, I have some dead slavers to deal with. And an arrest to make."

"Oh, Commander," you purr, "I wouldn't dream of getting away with it."

His head tilts, and the door slides open, revealing a group of troopers standing outside. They all freeze, their helmets fixed on the two of you, and a heavy silence descends. You can't see their faces, but you can feel their eyes on you, the weight of their gaze palpable.

Fox sighs and shakes his head, exasperation rolling off him.

"Take her home," he orders. "No detours. No stops. And no chatter." He shoots the troopers a glare, and they nod, their posture straightening.

"Yes, sir," they reply, their voices perfectly in sync.

You move towards them, and they fall into formation, escorting you through the halls. You can feel their stares, the weight of their attention, and it takes everything in you not to smirk. You've finally gotten what you've been wanting for months, and nothing is going to spoil the victory. Not even a group of awkward clones.

But before the two of you are out of earshot, Fox calls out.

"And one more thing," he says, his voice laced with warning.

You stop and turn, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Behave," he says, the look in his eye telling you he knows exactly what you're thinking. "For once in your life."

"I'll do my best," you reply sweetly.

He rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath, but the smile tugging at the corner of his lips betrays him. You turn, and the group of troopers lead you away, leaving him standing alone in the hall, his arms crossed, the ghost of a grin still on his face.

You have no intention of behaving, but there will be time to torment him later. Right now, you have bigger plans. The night is still young, and while your game is over, another one has just begun.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish

@floofyroro @veralii @chubbyhedgehog @meshlajetii @heaven1207