We need a cuddly! or exhausted! Fox titled "Don't mess with the Commander's nap" and angry, protective! concerned Fox titled "Don't mess with the Commander's girl/cyare". These are suggestions only and I adore your writing and all you have given us. 💖
Suggestions? You mean single-handedly giving me something to do on my shift the past/next few nights? Because that's what I read. I wanted to have one of these written out before I replied, so here you go! Full credit to you for the title(s), I love them so much 💕
I blame Law & Order SVU for how this started
Don’t Mess With the Commander’s Cyare
(It won’t end well)
Rating: M
Word Count: 1.5k
Pairing: Commander Fox x afab!reader
Warnings: TW: being drugged without your knowledge, high rating for subject matter, implied murder, this has a soft ending though I promise
Summary: Your night takes a turn for the worse and you thank the Maker, the Force, and whatever else there is that Fox is always there for you when you need him.
[Part 1] [Part 2] // [Part 4] [Part 5]
Masterlist
Fox can’t remember the last time he was this angry, and he has a lot to be angry about. No, angry doesn’t cover it. He’s livid.
::Commander Fox, get to 79s ASAP. She’s in trouble::
That comm is the last thing he ever wants to hear. Jek doesn’t have to elaborate for him to know who exactly “she” is. He’s out of his office door before he even realizes it, shoving his bucket on as he walks. The speeder he takes has its lights on and sirens blaring as soon as he leaves the barrack’s airspace. It will take two minutes to get there.
If anything happens to you before then…
—-
[Fifteen minutes earlier, 79s]
You’re having a great time swaying to the music and you’re positively vibing with the strobing lights. It might smell like sweat and booze, which is an unpleasant combination honestly, but it’s well worth it.
Nursing your drink is one of your better ideas because the bar is packed more than it was a few minutes ago. Another swell of troopers buying for their tables. You smile at them as they pass you on the floor, so you’re not paying attention when you bump into someone as you turn around. Human, but not a clone.
“Sorry!” He yells over the music.
“Sorry,” you yell back, trying to wipe off your now damp shirt. “No harm done.”
You don’t linger long enough to strike up a conversation. Good thing you’re thinking about leaving soon anyway, so you don’t worry about the state of your shirt while you finish your drink. You decide to wait a few more songs before you call it a night.
They go by fast, and by the time the third song ends everything sounds like it’s underwater. You frown and shake your head trying to get rid of the fuzziness. Bad idea. It only makes you tilt dangerously to the side before you catch yourself. You definitely need to leave. Unfortunately, you only make it a few steps out the door before gravity rears its ugly head again. Arms wrap around your middle before you hit the ground and you see through your steadily swimming vision that it’s the guy that you bumped into not that long ago.
“Careful there,” he says brightly. “Don’t wanna have another accident, do ya?”
You try to wriggle out of his grasp but he has a tight hold on you. Somewhere in the back of your mind you know something isn’t right. “Let go, I can walk,” you slur.
“Let’s make sure we get a taxi speeder home, yeah?”
If you had better control over yourself you would deck him for being so cheery about your sorry state. It sets off warning bells in your head but you can’t do anything about it. You’re getting worse by the minute. And try as you might, you can’t remember if anyone you know is on patrol tonight.
“Caf girl, what’s going on here?”
You pull all your weight to stop from being dragged away further. There’s a trooper in front of you.
Jek. Jek still calls you that.
You groan, trying to come up with the right words. You need to be with Jek. He can take you to Fox, wherever he is. Probably working too much.
“Sorry, my girlfriend had way too much to drink,” the man laughs. “I told her to slow down but you know how women can be sometimes. Can’t take no for an answer.”
Jek tilts his head, and you hope he can read your scowl because that’s all you can do at the moment.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to let her go, and be on your way,” Jek says stiffly, hand hovering steadily over the blaster at his side.
“Look, this isn’t any of your business-”
“No, it’s my business,” a voice cut in. “Let her go, or it won’t end well for you.”
Hearing that tone is a relief you’re only half aware of. You jerk away as hard as you can, and in his surprise, the guy loses his grip on you. You stumble towards Fox, not sure when he got there, but glad for it all the same.
Fox catches you and you latch onto his back when he moves you behind him. The cool plastoid feels nice on your flushed face. He keeps one hand on your waist and you put your arms around him, trying desperately to hold on with your failing strength.
“Are you okay, cyare?”
You purse your lips. “No… Drugged.” That’s the word you’re looking for. You were drugged. You had to have been.
Fox stiffens even more, if that’s possible, and you almost lose your balance again at the small change. “You drugged her?” He spits out. He’s gripping the handle of blaster, finger resting on the safety. You wonder vaguely how close he is to just putting a bolt between the guy’s eyes.
“No! I told your buddy here, my girlfriend just had too much to drink.”
“She’s not your girlfriend, she’s mine.”
You don’t know what Fox would have done if you didn’t collapse right then. You’re in his arms the next second and before your vision finally goes dark you see Jek pushing the man into the ground and cuffing him.
You don’t hear Fox calling your name.
—-
Waking up has never been a more disorienting ordeal. Whatever this is it’s worse than any hangover you’ve had before. You’re dizzy beyond belief, and it takes a few moments after the blood stops rushing to your head to recognize the couch you’re sitting up on. Of course, Fox appearing at your side almost immediately after your vision clears helps.
“Cyare, how are you feeling?” He cups your face, and you can see the worry in his eyes. Why is he so worried?
“Like kark,” you mumble, nuzzling into his hands. “I… I don’t remember… When did I get here?”
He kisses your forehead softly. “You’ve been asleep for 12 hours. What’s the last thing you remember?”
You grimace as you think. Last night’s events don’t come back like you expect them to. “I was dancing. But… that’s it. I don’t remember leaving the floor, or 79s.”
“Jek was on patrol. He saw you stumbling out with another man following you. He had a bad feeling so he commed me.”
“What? No, no I wouldn’t have been with another man.” You start breathing heavily, willing yourself to think harder. “Fox, I didn’t - I wouldn’t.” You’re clutching at his hands, unbidden tears pooling at the corner of your eyes.
“Shh, cyare.” He sits next to you and pulls you into his arms. “Shh. I know you wouldn’t. When I got there you were barely able to say he drugged you. He was going to take you if Jek hadn’t noticed something was wrong.”
“Why can’t I remember?” You cling to him as you cry. You’re confused and frustrated at yourself for not knowing anything. And you’re scared because of the what-ifs running rampant in your mind. ‘Take you’ was a gentle way of putting what could have happened.
“I had Knockout look you over as soon as I brought you back. He found Rohypnol in your system. Memory loss is a common side effect after being drugged with it.”
He’s rocking you now, and you struggle to get another word out through your tears.
“Did you get the guy?”
“Yeah, we got the chakaar.” He glares at the wall in front of him and holds you tighter. “He tried to pass you off as his girlfriend. I nearly shot him.”
“What happened to him?”
“Nothing anyone can prove,” Fox growls.
The fact that there’s probably a dead body lying in an alley somewhere is surprisingly reassuring. You calm down a few minutes later and finally notice the pinchyness of Fox’s armor when you try to get closer to him.
“Your armor isn’t great for cuddling, you know,” you murmur into his chest, and you feel it rumble as he laughs.
“If you wanted to get me out of my clothes all you had to do was ask.”
You give a small snort because of course he goes there. “Don’t wanna let you go,” you say with a pout.
He squeezes you once and you whine when he starts to move away. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says. He shifts over on the couch and proceeds to remove the top half of his armor. It takes less than a minute before you’re back in his arms.
“If he had taken you, I would have torn Coruscant apart level by level to find you.”
You smile weakly up at him. “You’ll always find me, right?”
“Count on it, cyare.”