#Captain Howzer x Reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jetii · 3 months ago

Text

To the General

Pairing: Howzer x fem!Reader / Howzer x Jedi!Reader

Words: 14,310

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, themes of grief/death/mourning, some blood/gore, depression, hallucinations, unrequited feelings, mutual pining, smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), some light dom/sub dynamics, a little cockwarming

Summary: It's been over a year since Howzer has lost his General, and yet, the ghost of your memory still haunts him. His guilt and grief threaten to swallow him whole, until Rex returns to the base with a surprise visitor.

A/N: Reposting because I forgot my taglist. 🤦‍♀️ No excuse for the word count I fear. I just love Jedi/Clone forbidden love with all my heart, and I love writing dramatic reunions even more.

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Howzer doesn’t remember how it happened.

Their arrival on Ryloth had come on the heels of an overdrawn battle on Bothawui. The entire battalion was teetering on the edge of exhaustion by the time they had boarded The Eclipse. Their hopes of an extended shore leave were quickly dashed as it was announced by order of the Jedi Council and the Chancellor himself that they would be sent to occupy Ryloth indefinitely.

The General had tried to make the most of it. She’d arranged for the mess to cook the finest meal they could get their hands on, which admittedly wasn’t more than some fresh meats and root vegetables, but the crew didn't complain. And if Howzer caught the smell of alcohol floating about when they walked to their stations, he didn't say anything about it.

Still, no amount of finery or good cheer could hide the truth: the crew was worn ragged and the battalion was ready to snap. The men resolved to keep pushing on for the sake of their General, who had taken their heavy losses the hardest. That night, she’d broken into tears over the new helmets lining their memorial wall, a wall that was nearly full.

Howzer had been with her, had stood with her and her tears. He had seen the General in every state of grief, of anger and pain. He'd also seen her at her very best. He'd seen her bright smile and heard her warm laugh. He'd been there for the moments of victory and the moments of defeat.

She was his General and his closest friend, his guiding star, and he would do anything for her.

Howzer doesn’t remember how it happened, but he does remember her. He remembers everything about her.

His first memory is her as a young commander, and the first time he saw her. It was on Kamino, and the first time she had visited. She'd been there with her Master, who had come to assess the cadets' progress. They had all lined up in neat rows for the inspection. Howzer remembers how tall she had looked in her uniform and cape despite how all the men towered over her.

Howzer can't remember what she said or did. But he can recall her eyes and the warmth in them as she walked past them. He had wanted her to look at him.

His second memory is the first time they met, months later. It was shortly after the start of the war, and the 318th was still in its infancy. The General had just arrived to pick her new battalion up, and as her new Captain, Howzer was part of the honor guard.

Howzer doesn’t remember the words they spoke, only that she was kind and her voice was warm, and when she smiled, the whole world seemed to brighten.

In the years that followed, he got to know her and became her aide. They were together almost every day. They spent time with their men and led them through the horrors of war. She was a natural leader, charismatic and inspiring, and it wasn't long before Howzer was completely devoted to her.

But the war continued, and so did the death. They had lost men and friends, and Howzer had to watch the General suffer each time. Her pain was his. How could it not be?

She was the best thing in his life, his bright light in the darkness, and he was in love with her.

Howzer doesn’t remember when he began thinking of her that way. He thinks he might’ve always loved her, always wanted her. Maybe from the moment he saw her in that corridor.

All he knew is that he'd loved her in every possible way a man could love a woman, just as he knew that his love would never be reciprocated.

But it didn't matter.

As long as he was with her, Howzer would pretend, and he was okay with that. He could live with loving her from afar and keeping his feelings in check. As her Captain, his job was to support her, and he would be the best damn Captain she'd ever had.

He could dream of a different reality where she returned his feelings, one where they were not at war, and maybe one where he was not her clone trooper. He would dream of a life where he could hold her and touch her, where he could kiss her and whisper how much he loved her.

But those were dreams, and nothing more.

And reality was very different now.

Now, the General is nothing more than a memory.

It’s been long enough that pieces of her are starting to fade from his mind, and he hates it. He wants to hang on to her as long as possible, but he knows that his memories are all he has left. He doesn’t have a holo or picture of her. He only has the images in his mind and the broken piece of nova crystal he kept tucked away in his pocket.

Howzer doesn't remember how it happened.

But he knows it’s his fault.

Howzer is the one who let her down. He's the reason she died. He must be, even if he can't remember it, because he can't accept any other reality. He was her Captain and her right-hand man, her closest friend and her most devoted soldier. If she died, it was because he had failed her, and he will never forgive himself for it.

Maybe he deserves to forget.

That thought is worse than the one of her death.

There was a time when he had wondered if his love was a sickness, something to be ashamed of and hidden away. He didn't want his brothers to know and judge him, and he didn't want her to know, either. He'd never acted on his desires. He'd never told her, and maybe that's why this is so much worse.

Maybe this is a punishment, and one he deserves.

He knows he must have done something wrong, something terrible, because no man would be this cursed unless they deserved it. The nightmares, the guilt, the emptiness, it had to be some kind of retribution for his transgressions.

He's tried to forget. He's tried to move on. He's tried to be a better man, a better clone. He's tried to do everything that a good soldier should, but no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries, his mind always drifts back to her. His thoughts always wander to his memories. He can't shake her. He doesn't know how to. He's never known how.

Every time he closes his eyes to sleep, he sees her. She's the same as the last time he saw her, with her armor and her hair up in its braid, and she is beautiful. Howzer is so happy to see her again, so relieved that she's not gone.

But she is, and he has to tell her.

He tries, but the words don't come out right. Or maybe it's just that he can't say them, that he still doesn't want to accept what had happened after all this time. But the words are stuck in his throat, and his eyes burn, and Howzer knows she's waiting for him to answer her.

And he can't.

She's waiting for him, and he can't.

She deserves to know the truth. She needs to know that she died, that he failed her, and that her death is on his hands.

Howzer can't look at her. He can't face her.

He closes his eyes and waits for her to turn away. He waits for her to leave him, because he doesn't deserve her.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she steps forward and takes his hands into hers. He flinches at her touch, because she shouldn’t be here. She isn't real. She's just another figment of his imagination, his punishment, and he wants her to stop. He can't do this anymore.

"Howzer," she says. "Howzer, look at me."

And he does. He can't help himself. Her face is starting to blur in his memory, he can't remember the exact shade of her eyes, and he doesn't want to forget. Not yet. He opens his eyes and looks at her, but he knows what he'll find.

Blood.

Her blood.

On his hands, on his face, on his chestplate.

There's so much of it, and he can't stop staring at it, at the way it coats her armor and drips onto the floor. He can't look away. He can't do anything.

"Look at me, Howzer," she says again.

But he can't. He can't do it.

He can't look at her, not like this. He can't stand the thought of seeing her face covered in blood, her lifeless eyes staring at him, her body cold and broken and gone.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispers. "It's all my fault."

"No," she says.

She doesn't say anything else, and Howzer wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants her to yell at him and berate him, to curse him and hate him. But when he finally gains the courage to look her in the eye, there's nothing there. She's gone.

It's the worst thing he could've imagined.

He's alone.

Last night’s nightmare plays over and over again in his mind as he stands at the holotable, looking over the map and trying not to think of the General.

It's hard. It's always been hard, but it's gotten worse over the last few months. The dreams are more frequent, and the pain is more intense. He doesn't know how to stop them, or if they will ever stop.

He thought it would get better when he joined Rex's group, that he would find some semblance of peace with the other clones fighting the good fight, but he was wrong.

There is no peace for him, not after what he did.

The others are talking around him, but Howzer is only half listening. It's the usual stuff: what their next move will be, how many supplies they have, and the list goes on. Rex is expected to return from a meeting with Senator Chuchi any minute, and this meeting is more about making sure the captain is updated on what he missed.

But the details escape Howzer. He's distracted by his thoughts, and his guilt is eating at him. It's all he can think about, and he can't shake the feeling that he doesn't deserve to be here.

"Howzer."

The sound of his name brings him back to reality, and he realizes everyone is looking at him.

"Uh, sorry," he says. "What was the question?"

Echo studies him. His gaze is intense, and Howzer has the distinct impression that he's being read. It's a disconcerting feeling, one that he's felt more than a few times in the last couple months since his rescue, and it makes him feel transparent. Like his armor is gone and his emotions are on display.

But that can't be the case, because Howzer hasn't told him what happened.

No one knows the truth, not even the men. Howzer hasn't told anyone about his part in his General's death, and he's not planning to either. There's no point in dredging up the past. He knows he’s not the only clone with guilt about what happened to the Jedi, what they had done.

He’s just the only one who can’t seem to let it go.

"I asked if you were alright," Echo says. "You've seemed a little off the last few days.”

Howzer nods.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he says. "Just a little tired."

The lie slips off his tongue easily, and it's one he's told more than a few times before. He's not fine, and he hasn't been since that day, but there's no need to burden his brothers with his problems.

Echo doesn't look convinced, and he's about to open his mouth to ask another question when Rex finally arrives. The captain's entrance is followed by a chorus of greetings and welcomes, and the tension in the room dissipates. The men are happy to see him, and Howzer is thankful for the distraction.

The Captain greets the men, and then he turns to Howzer.

"Howzer," Rex says. "Do you mind if I speak to you privately?"

"Of course not, Captain," Howzer answers.

Rex leads Howzer out of the command center and down the corridor. The walk is silent, and Howzer can feel the tension building between them. Rex hasn't said a word, and he has no idea why he wants to talk to him. Maybe it's about his recent performance, or lack thereof. He hasn't been the most reliable or helpful lately.

Howzer is starting to worry in earnest when they turn, moving away from the section of the compound that holds Rex's makeshift office and toward the doors leading out to the landing zone. Walking slightly in front of him, Rex is tense, his shoulders stiff and his jaw set. Whatever he has to say, it must be serious.

Rex finally stops in front of the closed blast doors and turns to Howzer. His expression is neutral, and it's impossible to tell what's going on in his head.

"Rex," Howzer begins, unable to bear the silence any longer, "if this is about my work, I understand. I haven't been on top of things the last few days, and if you need to put someone else on comms, I—"

Rex puts his hand up.

"That's not why I asked you out here, Howzer," Rex says. "There's someone here you need to see."

Howzer raises an eyebrow, confused.

"I don't understand," he says. "Who's here?"

"Just follow me."

Rex punches in a code, and the doors slide open. The light from outside fills the hallway, and Howzer blinks at the sudden brightness. He steps out into the landing zone, following Rex into the sunlight. The air is warm and dry, and he can already feel the heat radiating from the cracked duracrete beneath his boots.

"What are we doing out here, Rex?" he asks.

Rex doesn't answer, just keeps walking across the landing zone toward the ship. The Remora stands alone on the platform, ramp already drawn. Howzer squints in an effort to see inside the darkness of the vessel, looking for a spot of white plastoid among the shadows.

But what steps forward isn’t a clone at all.

Howzer recognizes you instantly, and he suddenly feels like he’s about to faint.

His vision tunnels, and the world tilts on its axis. He can hear his heart pounding in his ears, and his breath is coming too fast, too hard. There's a roaring sound, like the sound of a rushing river, and it drowns out everything else. He feels sick, and his legs are shaking.

It can't be real. It can't be.

But it is.

There’s a loud clang, and he dimly realizes his helmet has fallen from his hands. It's lying on the ground now, at his feet, but he can't seem to find the strength to pick it up. All he can do is stare.

You descend the ramp slowly and place a hesitant foot onto the ground. The corners of your lips curl into an uncertain smile, while Howzer remains frozen, trapped in disbelief.

You take a step forward, and he still doesn't move. He's rooted to the spot, his heart racing, and he's afraid.

Howzer knows he's hallucinating. He's been here before. This isn't the first time you've appeared to him, not the first time you've looked at him with those warm eyes and called his name. But every time he reaches out, the mirage vanishes. He's tried. He's tried so hard to reach you.

He knows he's going to wake up, and you will be gone again.

It doesn't stop him from wanting to believe that it's real. That you're here.

Your smile falters when you notice his helmet on the ground, and Howzer watches your eyes search his. They're the same as they've always been, bright and kind, and full of concern. It's too much. It's always been too much.

"Howzer," you say. "Are you okay?"

"No," he says.

You step closer, and Howzer instinctively backs away. You stop. Your brows furrow, and your eyes fill with hurt, and it makes his stomach twist. He wants to go to you, to pull you close and hold you, but he doesn't. He can't.

This isn't real. None of it is real.

He has to tell you.

"What do you mean? What's wrong?" you ask.

You're still walking toward him, and Howzer has to force himself not to run. He has to stop this before it goes any further. He can't let himself fall prey to his delusions, not again.

"No, it's not real," he says.

You frown. "What's not real?"

"You," he whispers. "You're not real. None of this is."

You stop, your eyes wide and worried. "Howzer, what are you talking about?"

He ignores you. He has to make you understand.

"You're dead," he says. His voice breaks on the last word, and it comes out as a choked sob.

The words hang between the two of you, and Howzer braces himself for the inevitable. He knows what will happen. You'll disappear. He's seen it happen enough times, and he can't bear to go through it again.

He closes his eyes and tries to focus, to steady his breathing and keep the tears at bay.

But when he opens his eyes, you're still there.

And then the impossible happens.

You move forward, and he doesn't stop you. He doesn't flinch or back away when you reach out and put your hands on his shoulders. He can't.

Your touch is solid. Real.

You're real.

His legs give way, forcing him to collapse heavily onto his knees. He can't bear the weight anymore. The grief, the guilt, the shame. It's too much.

“I failed you, General,” he says around the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. Howzer squeezes his burning eyes shut, willing the tears away, but they come regardless. He feels his body tremble, his shoulders shaking as he fights against the sob rising in his chest. He tries to take a deep breath, but his lungs won't cooperate, and all he manages is a choked gasp.

“I…I’m so sorry.”

"Howzer, Howzer, please look at me."

It's not a request.

Your voice is commanding, the way he remembers, and it's enough to coax him into opening his eyes. Looking at you directly is almost too painful to bear, like looking directly at Ryloth’s sun, but he does.

Tears are streaming down your face, but a gentle smile still curves your lips. The hand on his shoulder moves to cup his face, thumb tracing the marred skin of his cheek. Unbidden, the memory of you holding him when he received the wound years ago comes to mind. Howzer hadn't seen it then, but the affection is clear now.

"It's okay," you say, softly.

"It's not," he replies. "I shouldn't have let you go."

Your hand moves to his jaw, and you gently tilt his chin upwards. He wants to lean into the touch, to bask in the warmth of your skin, but he can't. He doesn't deserve this. Not after what he did.

"I should've known. I should've—"

"Stop," you cut him off.

Your voice is firm, but the hand on his jaw is soft and gentle, and your eyes are still kind. He wants so badly to believe that this is real, that you're really here, but the doubts linger. He can't let himself fall into the illusion. He can't let himself lose you again.

"You can't blame yourself for this, Howzer. It wasn't your fault."

"I failed you."

"No, Howzer," you say. "You didn't."

He doesn't know what to say. Your hand is still on his face. Your fingers are trembling.

“I forgive you," you whisper the words softly, and it's more than he deserves. "I forgave you long ago."

It's too much.

His composure breaks, and he wraps his arms around your hips, burying his face in your stomach. His tears are hot and wet, and they soak through the fabric of your shirt. His sobs are loud and broken, and he can barely breathe, but he can't stop, and you don't push him away. The hand on his cheek cups the back of his head, and your other arm wraps around his shoulders.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers.

He isn't sure if you hear him. He's not sure if he wants you to. But you must, because your grip tightens, and your hand runs through his hair.

He holds you, clinging to you like a lifeline, and lets the tears flow. He can't hold back the sobs, the pain, the anger. All of the emotions are coming to the surface, and they won't be held back any longer.

He cries for you, for the pain you endured. For the loss and the hurt. He cries for himself, for the guilt and the shame. He cries because it hurts, and because he's relieved, and because he can't believe this is real and he's so kriffing happy to see you again.

When his tears finally stop, you're still there, still holding him, and he's still kneeling in front of you. His shoulders are stiff, his muscles sore, but he can't find the strength to move.

He doesn't want to.

He wants to stay like this forever.

Eventually, you break the silence.

“Is there somewhere we can go to speak in private?” you ask quietly. Your fingers run through the buzzed hair at the back of his head and linger on the scar there, the one he doesn’t have a story for. A shiver runs down his spine before his brain catches up to your question.

Howzer nods and clears his throat.

"Yeah," he says, his voice hoarse. "My room. We can talk there."

You help him stand, and he takes a moment to collect himself, wiping his eyes. When he looks at you again, he feels a hot sting of embarrassment. It's been a long time since he's let himself fall apart like this, and he's not sure how to act, and he's grateful there's no one else around to witness it.

You don't seem bothered by his breakdown. You smile, and it's soft and warm, and his heart does a strange flip.

"Are you okay?" you ask, and your concern is so genuine that it almost brings fresh tears to his eyes. His emotions feel raw, like an open wound, and he's not sure how much more he can take before he's completely overwhelmed, but when he answers this time, he speaks the truth.

"I will be," he says as he kneels to collect his helmet.

You nod, and there's a hint of relief in your eyes, but the smile on your face never wavers as you step up to his side. He’s surprised to feel your hand threading through the crook of his elbow before he realizes it was he who had held out his arm for you. A force of habit he didn't know he still had, but one that was very welcome.

It had always been your way, before. To walk beside him instead of ahead.

He takes a deep breath and straightens his shoulders.

"Shall we?"

"Yes," you say, smiling.

As the two of you begin to make your way across the landing zone, Howzer can't help but marvel at how natural this feels. The familiarity of your presence at his side, the soft pressure of your hand against his arm, and the sound of your breathing.

All of it feels so right, and Howzer thinks it must be a dream, a hallucination, something, because this is too perfect. It can't be real. It's been far too long for it to be real.

But the weight of your arm on his and the sound of your footsteps at his side feel real, more real than anything he's ever experienced. He's never had a hallucination this vivid before. He hopes it's not just a dream, but he keeps his eyes on you just to make sure.

You look different. Older, maybe. But also more beautiful.

It's a silly thought, but it's the truth. There's a certain peace and calmness to your expression, and it suits you. You look content, like you've finally found what you were looking for, and Howzer feels a rush of joy.

You're alive.

He still can't quite believe it, and he finds himself staring openly at you. He knows the path to his room like the back of his hand, and he could probably make the trek with his eyes closed. But he doesn't.

Instead, he keeps his eyes on you, memorizing every detail, every curve of your face and every twitch of your mouth. He's desperate to fill in the gaps in his memory, the details he's lost and the moments that slipped away. He doesn't want to forget again.

Your head is on a swivel as you take in the equipment and clones bustling around the enclosed space inside the temple. It reminds him of your first day, and he can't help but smile. You haven't changed at all.

Echo and Rex are in the command center along with a handful of other clones. They watch as the two of you walk through, their faces showing a range of expressions from surprise to confusion to suspicion. But they say nothing, and Howzer is grateful. He knows how he looks, with his reddened eyes and blotchy cheeks. They’ll no doubt have questions later, but for now, they keep them to themselves.

“What you’ve built here is impressive,” you say as you give a friendly smile to Samson when you pass by. He does a double-take, his gaze moving from your face to your arm wrapped around Howzer's, and back to your face again.

Howzer smiles back and doesn't offer any explanation.

Samson isn't the only one looking. Several of the men stare, and Howzer can't help the small thrill of pride that courses through him at their wide-eyed looks.

It's a silly thought, he knows. He shouldn't feel good about being seen with you, not after everything that's happened. But he can't deny the satisfaction he feels at the thought that the men can see the two of you together again, and he wonders how many of them had guessed about his feelings.

Probably all of them.

"This is it," Howzer says as the two of you stop outside the door to the room he claimed as his own.

It's not much—a single bed, a locker, and a desk—but it's enough. It's a quiet place to escape to when the chaos of the galaxy around him becomes too much, though he hasn't spent much time in it since he arrived.

Howzer steps forward and places his hand on the panel, and the door slides open. He motions for you to enter first, and you do, letting go of his arm as you step into the room.

You take a moment to study your surroundings before your eyes land on the lone chair in the room. Howzer can tell what you're thinking. You're going to offer it to him, and he doesn't want it. He can't imagine sitting right now. His legs still feel like jelly and his whole body is still buzzing from the adrenaline of seeing you.

Instead, Howzer leans against the wall by the door and takes a deep breath, watching as you walk forward to examine his desk, your back to him.

The room is quiet, the only sound the faint buzzing of the lights above them. He can't hear the commotion outside. He can't even hear his own heartbeat. All he can hear is you, your soft, slow breathing and the gentle rustle of fabric as you move.

He hesitates to break the silence, but he has to know.

“How are you—how did you survive?” he asks. How are you alive, he wants to say. You shouldn’t be alive. The words stick in his throat.

You stiffen slightly, but you don't turn around. The latest report on their medical supplies is held loosely in your grasp, and Howzer watches the datapad tremble slightly.

“You truly don’t remember?” you ask softly, dropping the report back onto the desk. You pivot to face him, your back pressing into the metal edge, and he can't read your expression.

He swallows. His throat feels dry, and his heart is pounding in his ears.

No. He doesn’t remember. But he needs to.

He shakes his head, the motion almost imperceptible. “No, I…I remember we were speaking in your quarters. I can’t remember what about. There was an incoming transmission, and then…nothing.”

Whatever he said, it must not have been the right thing. Your eyes close as if in pain, your fists clenching at your sides. You inhale a sharp, shaky breath. The sight is almost enough to make him drop the subject. But the need to know is greater than the guilt.

“Please." He says your name quietly, hating the desperation that creeps into his voice. "I need to know.”

He realizes that he’s never called you by your first name before, at least not to your face. It had always been General. He thinks he likes the sound of it, and the way it makes your eyes fly open, surprise and a little bit of warmth filling their depths.

The seconds drag on as he waits for your response, the tension palpable between you. The longer he stares at you, the more he notices. Your jaw is sharper now, your skin slightly more tan. Your hair is the same, and so are your eyes, but there's a new air of maturity to you that hadn't been there before. He's not sure how he feels about the changes, only that he wishes he had been there to see them happen.

When you finally speak, the words are careful and measured. “I can show you, if you let me.”

"Show me?"

"If I'm allowed, I could—"

"Yes," he says. He doesn’t hesitate. He trusts you, and he needs to know what happened.

"Okay," you say, taking a step toward him. "This may hurt."

A moment of silent understanding passes between you before Howzer nods, steeling himself for whatever revelation awaits. You reach out tentatively, pausing a few inches away, and he closes his eyes.

Your fingers press into his temple, and he’s suddenly thrust back into your quarters on Ryloth.

“You seem upset,” your voice says, wavering as if underwater until the haze of the memory begins to lift around you.

The blurry shape of you comes into sharper focus as you move to sit on your bunk. Your beige robes have been discarded, revealing the sleeveless wrap tunic you wear underneath. Another hot evening on Ryloth meant you'd forgone decorum again, loosening the top to allow airflow to your sweat-slicked skin. He remembers admiring the strong lines of your biceps and valley of your breasts revealed with the motion.

He’s in the memory but not entirely, watching himself from the outside like a specter in the shadows. Howzer watches as he forces himself to look away from your body to stare out the window. He can feel the same tension, the same anxiety that gripped him then. He remembers the argument you had that morning. Remembers the hurt, the pain, the guilt. Remembers wanting to reach out, to hold you, but stopping himself.

“What’s on your mind?”

“You,” he answers honestly, for once. It’s a half-truth that sticks to his tongue. “Is it true that this will all be over soon?”

“I’ve felt it coming for a while now,” you say.

Your eyes drift to your hands, and he turns to watch you lace your fingers together tightly in your lap. “Count Dooku is dead. Obi-Wan has moved to engage General Grievous. Saesee and General Windu are arresting the Chancellor as we speak. The war very well may be over now.”

“I see.”

A sense of fatigue washes over him, and he leans against the wall to prop himself up. He wants to leave, to soak the feeling in while in the silence of his own barracks, but something stronger urges him to stay.

“Permission to speak freely, sir.”

“You always have my permission, Howzer,” you say earnestly. It had taken some getting used to, being addressed so informally. The first few times, he'd had to force himself not to jump to attention every time you called him by name. He quickly started to enjoy the intimacy of it, and the way the sound of his name on your lips made him shiver.

He sighs, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He doesn't know where to begin. The last few months have been hard, harder than most, and it's left him feeling raw and exhausted. He's never felt so torn before. Part of him is thrilled that the war is ending, but the other part, the larger, selfish part, is terrified.

“What will happen to us?” he asks, turning to look at you.

Your face is neutral, but he can tell by the set of your jaw that you're tense. The memory of you takes a moment to collect yourself before speaking.

"What do you mean?"

"After the war," he says, trying and failing to keep the edge of panic out of his voice. "What will happen to us?"

“The clones have fought honorably for the Republic. It’s the least we can do to provide for your future,” you reply. “You’ll be given pensions and housing on Coruscant for as long as you all wish. I expect some will continue their roles in reserve, while the rest will be free to choose their own path.”

He nods appreciatively. He has no idea what he would do with such freedom, but he's grateful all the same. The thought of no longer having a purpose terrifies him, but not nearly as much as the thought of losing you.

He should leave it at that, he should thank you and walk away. Howzer is watching the internal battle he faced on that day and screams at himself to leave. He should leave you be, to enjoy the brief respite the two of you are allowed.

But he can't. Not when this could be the last chance he ever gets.

“Thank you. But I…I meant us, sir.” Howzer gestures between the two of you.

Your eyes widen almost imperceptibly, but he can see he’s stunned you. He forges ahead, moving to stare at the wall behind you so he can maintain his courage. “We’ve been together so long, I can barely remember a time without you. Without this. I don't want it to end."

There's a pregnant pause as you struggle for a response, and the fear in the pit of his stomach grows.

“What are you saying?” you ask slowly.

“I’m saying I want more,” he says. He meets your gaze and steps forward, and you rise to your feet at the same time, your tunic fluttering around you.

“Us clones try not to think about the future, but I can't help it. And the only future I want is one with you. That is, if you want that too, sir."

His cheeks are flushed, and his heart is pounding, and he's so nervous. This is the most he's ever confessed, and it feels like the world is crashing down around him, but he means every word.

“Howzer…” Your voice breaks, and it sends a hammer to his heart. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you feel the same,” he says quickly. Howzer’s hand reaches out to grasp your bicep, thumb caressing the bare skin underneath his glove. He moves closer, and your breath hitches as you lean back, but not away.

Your eyes close, head tilting down. He waits with bated breath for you to say something, anything.

When you look up, your eyes are filled with tears, and his stomach drops. Your voice is so quiet, he can barely hear you.

“I feel afraid.”

It's like the wind has been knocked out of him. He opens his mouth to speak, to question you further, but his vambrace begins to ping, the message marked urgent. Howzer watches himself let go of you and turn to receive the transmission, and he feels like he's drowning.

No! He screams at himself. Don't take the call. He can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but watch. You can't let this go. If you lose this chance, you'll never have another.

He's frozen, helpless to watch his past play out. You move toward the window to look out at the setting sun as Howzer opens the encrypted message.

“Execute Order 66,” the hooded figure on the holo speaks, its voice graveled and dark. In his memory, Howzer stares down at the projection with wide, unseeing eyes, before he begins to shake. Something is taking over, something he isn’t strong enough to control.

He knows what he must do.

A cold, heavy weight settles in the pit of his stomach, and his mind feels foggy, sluggish. Howzer looks up from the holo, and the room seems to spin. His hands are trembling, and his heart is pounding in his ears. He blinks hard, once, twice, trying to clear the fog, but it won't go away. A wave of nausea hits him, and his head feels like it's about to explode.

"Howzer?"

Your voice is far away, barely a whisper. You turn, your lips parted, brow creased.

He barely has time to get the words out, to fight the fog for just a second. Just one more second.

"Run," he croaks. He watches his eyes glaze over, watches the last remnants of his control slip through his fingers as he turns, drawing his blaster and firing.

You ignite your lightsaber just in time to deflect the shot aimed at your head. Behind the teal blue glow of your blade, your eyes are wide and confused.

“Howzer?” you ask incredulously. Your arms are raised, holding your saber aloft. But your stance is hesitant, your knees bent as if ready to run.

The blaster is in his hand, and it's pointed at you. It's an impossible weight. A weapon made for killing, a weapon he can't use on you. His hand trembles, and he wills himself to throw it, to break it.

But the fog in his mind is too thick, the orders too loud, and his body moves without him. The trigger clicks under his finger again and again. You duck and roll as a bolt goes whizzing over your head, deflecting another into the ceiling. Plaster and dust rain down, clouding the air around you. You cough, covering your nose and mouth with the back of your free hand.

"Howzer, please, it's me!" you cry, raising the hilt of your saber. It's not meant to fight, only to protect. A shield against the bolts that won't stop coming.

He's screaming at you, screaming for you to move, to run away, but the words aren't leaving his mouth. The next bolt grazes your shoulder, tearing your tunic. The pain makes you cry out. Howzer can see the wound, red and angry against your skin.

He hears the sound of footsteps and voices getting closer outside the door, but he’s too occupied with the need to fire his blaster to acknowledge them. Howzer’s mind screams that he’s trapped alone with a traitor to the Republic, a burning hatred he’s never felt propelling him forward to attack.

The small voice inside him begging him not to hurt you is silenced for good when an unseen force rips the weapon from his hand. His arm is held aloft above his head, and he struggles like an animal in a trap to free it.

His eyes are wide and feral. Yours are nothing but pleading.

"Please," you beg. "You're stronger than this. I know you are. I can't hurt you."

"Traitor," he spits, struggling against the invisible bonds. "You'll die a traitor."

There are tears streaming down your face now, and he can see the agony in your eyes. The anguish and pain. But also a strength, a determination he's seen many times.

Fists are pounding on the door, and it tears your attention away from him for a moment too long. Howzer’s arm frees itself, and he wastes no time reaching for the blaster carbine on his back. Your eyes snap back to him, and you quickly hold out both hands to push him back into the wall.

Even during training, you were remarkably gentle with your use of the Force. Howzer had seen you throw boulders and pull tanks with your command of the unseen energy field, but he’d never felt more than a soft touch until that day.

But in this memory, you hurl him across the room with the force of a landslide, knocking the breath clear from his lungs, his head slamming hard enough to crack the duracrete.

He tries to stand, but he can't.

His arms won't work, and his legs are leaden, refusing to respond. He's helpless as he watches you raise your arm, your eyes filled with sorrow. He's powerless as you reach out and touch your fingers to his temple.

A warmth emanates from your fingertips, and Howzer feels the pressure in his skull building, building, until—

The memory vanishes, and Howzer finds himself back in his own quarters, slumped against the wall. You're still there, standing a few steps away. You have your arms crossed tightly, your jaw clenched.

Howzer can feel his head pounding, a throbbing phantom pain where it had struck the wall. He raises his fingers to rub his temples.

It's quiet. There's no pounding on the door, no gunfire. Just the two of you.

"So it's true. I almost killed you."

You flinch. It's so subtle, he wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been looking for it.

"You didn't," you say.

He shakes his head. "I didn't? It looked pretty fucking close. You did that—" He motions vaguely toward the door. "—to stop me."

"To stop myself," you correct. "You didn't have a choice. I couldn't hurt you."

Howzer's jaw clenches, and his throat feels tight. The memory is still fresh in his mind, and the feelings it elicited are not ones he'd like to relive. The shame, the fear, the guilt.

"But I did," he says. His voice is low, and his tone is grave. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry, too," you whisper, your voice barely audible. You look away from him, and your shoulders droop. "I didn't know. If I'd known the clones had been reprogrammed, I would have tried to find a way to reverse it. To bring you back. All of you."

You sniff, wiping your eyes, and Howzer feels his chest ache. You're blaming yourself. Of course you are.

"Howzer, if there's anything I can do—"

"Don't apologize," he says. His voice is stronger now, and he's glad. He's tired of being weak. Having you here is a reminder of everything he's done wrong, but also of what he could have. What he wants. He straightens, pulling himself away from the wall and standing upright.

"You saved my life. You didn't know what was going to happen. No one did. And even if you had, it would have been too late."

Your brows knit together, and you look back at him. Your lower lip trembles. "How can you forgive me?"

Howzer doesn't know how to answer that. He's not sure there is an answer. Instead, he walks forward, slowly, as if approaching a skittish animal. You look so small, so vulnerable, and he hates it. He can see the worry in your eyes, the guilt. It's the same worry and guilt he's seen in the mirror every day since the war ended.

He's only a step away when he stops, leaving enough space between the two of you that you could walk away if you wanted. But you don't, and the look in your eyes is enough to make him reach out. He wipes a tear from your cheek, and the corner of your mouth twitches.

"How can you forgive me?" he asks instead.

"Because you were doing your duty. Because I care about you. Because I missed you," you say.

"I missed you, too."

You're so close, close enough to touch, and Howzer can't resist the urge. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug, letting the tension ease from his body. You lean into his embrace, and he rests his chin on top of your head, closing his eyes and savoring the feeling of having you back.

He's not sure how long the two of you stand there, lost in the embrace, but eventually, you pull away. Howzer reluctantly lets go, dropping his arms back to his sides. You look up at him, and the smile on your face makes his stomach flip.

"What you said," you start, swallowing. "That night. Did you mean it?"

He doesn't have to think.

"Yes."

Your breath hitches, and your eyes search his, seeking something. He knows what it is, and it scares him. The last time he laid his heart bare for you, he’d lost everything. But he's spent too much time living in the past. Too much time wishing things were different, regretting the choices he made.

He doesn't want to do that anymore.

"I meant it then, and I still mean it now."

"Really?"

"I do."

He reaches out and takes your hand, lifting it to his lips.

You bite your lip. He can tell you're nervous, and he feels the same. His stomach is fluttering, and his heart is racing. The moment seems surreal, too good to be true.

But he can feel the warmth of your palm in his, can feel the softness of your skin.

"I missed you," he says softly.

"I missed you, too."

Your words are barely a whisper, but they echo in his mind. He can't resist any longer.

"I want to kiss you,” he admits, his voice low. He runs his thumb over the back of your hand, and your skin tingles beneath his touch. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes," you whisper.

He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, and your breath tickles his lips. He can't resist any longer.

Howzer tilts his head and closes the gap between you.

It's slow, tentative, and he's terrified. But when you melt into him, and your lips part against his, all of his fears and doubts are forgotten.

You're real. You're here, with him.

Your hand grips his armor as you kiss him back, and the world falls away. All that matters is you, and him, and this moment.

He feels whole.

The kiss is long and lingering. It's slow, and sweet, and everything he could have ever hoped for. Your hand finds its way to the back of his neck, and your fingers play with the short hair there. His own hands roam over your waist and back, mapping out the lines of your body.

He feels you shift onto your toes, pressing against him and pulling him closer, and his heart soars. He can't imagine wanting anything more than this, than the taste of your lips on his, the feel of your body pressed against his.

When the two of you finally part, his lips are tingling, and he can't help but chase yours for another quick peck before he pulls back. You're breathless, and your cheeks are flushed, and he feels his chest swell, his hands tightening around your waist.

He never wants to let go.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice cracking. He doesn't want to ruin the moment, but he needs you to know. He needs you to hear the words, the sincerity behind them. "I think I always have."

"I love you, too," you say, and it's like the sun coming out after a storm. "I didn't realize until it was too late, but I love you. I don't think I've ever stopped."

His heart swells at the words. He can't believe his ears, can't believe he's hearing you say them. His throat is thick, and his eyes burn, and he blinks back the tears.

Howzer pulls you close, burying his face in your hair and breathing in deeply as his arms wrap around you. He holds you tightly, and you cling to him just as fiercely.

"Stay," he murmurs into your hair, the words barely audible. "Please."

He can feel the way your muscles tense. You pull back, just enough to look at him. "What?"

"Stay," he repeats, looking into your eyes. "With us. With me."

He watches you blink, the surprise evident on your face. He realizes what he's asking of you. How much of a risk it is. You could be killed or taken prisoner by the Empire, and he's asking you to put your life in the hands of the very people who tried to kill you.

But he has to try.

"Howzer, I—I can't. It's too dangerous. If I'm caught—"

"I won't let anything happen to you. I promise." He reaches up and cradles your face in his hand, brushing his thumb across your cheek. "Please. I've lost you once. I can't lose you again."

Your eyes search his, and he can see the doubt, the fear. He's never begged anyone for anything before, but he'll beg for you. He'll do whatever it takes.

"Please," he says, his voice cracking. "I need you."

"Howzer," you say, but he can tell you're weakening. Your eyes are watery, and your brow is furrowed.

"I can't do this without you. I can't—I don't want to do this without you."

Your shoulders drop, and your head tilts slightly into his touch. You cover his hand with yours, squeezing gently. You sigh, and his heart sinks. He’s prepared to hear a no. To lose you once more, only this time, willingly. He watches as you take a deep breath, steadying yourself.

"Okay," you say softly.

He's speechless. For a moment, the word doesn't register. He's too afraid to hope.

"Okay?"

You nod. "I'll stay. If you'll have me."

He can't help the broad grin that spreads across his face, and he pulls you close, his arms wrapping around you and lifting you off the ground. You squeak, but you laugh, and the sound fills him with joy. He spins, hugging you tight as you giggle into his neck.

He's elated, and he can't hold back the laugh that bubbles up from his chest. He feels light, like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. As soon as your feet touch the ground he's kissing you again, cupping your face and tasting the smile on your lips.

He loves you. You love him. You're staying.

The thought is so incredible, so wonderful, that he can't stop kissing you, and you don't seem to mind. He pours all his emotions, all his love, into each brush of his lips, hoping that you can feel everything he's feeling, hoping that you understand how much this means to him.

He thinks you must.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him close. His hands drift down to your waist, and his thumbs brush against the skin where your tunic has ridden up. He kisses you deeper, and the moan that escapes your lips sends a bolt of heat straight through him.

His heart is pounding, and he can't get enough of you. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, and you part your lips for him, letting him taste you. The kiss grows deeper, hungrier, and his grip on you tightens, drawing you flush against him.

One of your hands moves to his chest, the other threading through his hair. Your touch sets him on fire, and he can feel himself straining against the confines of his armor. He doesn't know how far this is going, but he can't stop, can't bring himself to pull away.

Not when your teeth sink into his lower lip, or your nails scrape against his scalp. Not when you arch into him, your soft chest pressing into his chestplate. Not when his hands explore your body, mapping out every curve and dip, every muscle and bone.

His tongue brushes against yours, and he moans. He wants more, so much more. He's lost in you, and he doesn't want to find his way back.

"Tell me to stop," he says, his voice rough. His lips move to your jaw, and he trails kisses down your neck, the taste of you intoxicating.

The room spins, and Howzer finds himself pressed against the wall, the cold duracrete sending a shiver down his spine. Your hands are gripping the edge of his chest plate, and your lips are hot and demanding. You bite his lower lip, tugging at it, and his eyes flutter shut.

"No." Your voice is husky, and the sound goes straight to his cock. "Don't stop."

His heart leaps into his throat, and his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer. "I want you."

"I'm yours."

The words are a balm on his soul, healing wounds he didn't know he had. He can't get enough, can't stop kissing you. He nearly whines when you break away from his mouth, but the disappointment is short-lived when your lips move to his neck. He gasps, the sensation of your hot mouth and wet tongue overwhelming.

Your hands trail down his body, and his fingers dig into your hips.

"I love you," he moans. His head falls back, and his eyes flutter shut. His entire body is on fire, and the sound of your lips smacking against his neck only adds fuel to the flames. "Fuck, I love you."

You hum against his skin, and he bites back a groan.

"I love you," you whisper, the words ghosting over his neck. "I need you.”

It's all he can take.

His hands reach under your ass and lift, and you wrap your legs around his waist. The kiss is sloppy and uncoordinated, and his teeth clack against yours as he spins and presses you against the wall. You grind against his codpiece, and he breaks the kiss, hissing.

"You're so kriffing beautiful," he groans, his voice ragged. "You drive me crazy."

You're panting, and your cheeks are flushed, and he feels his cock twitch at the sight.

"I missed you," you say again. "I needed you."

He doesn't want to admit how close to home those words hit.

"I'm here now." His voice is rough, and his hands are gripping your hips tightly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," you say, before pulling him back into another kiss.

It's hard and messy and desperate. You're both clinging to each other like your lives depend on it, and it's almost painful, the need that's taken root inside him. He's wanted you for so long, and now that he's here, with you in his arms, he can't get enough. He can't stop.

You pull back, and his head tilts up to chase your lips. He's dizzy with lust and want, his breathing shallow.

"Howzer, can we—" Your voice is breathless, and your eyes are wild.

He nods, understanding immediately.

He kisses you hard, and he can feel your hands fumbling for the clasps on his chestplate. He doesn't want to let go, doesn't want to lose the contact between the two of you, but he does, if only to help you.

It's not long before the heavy plastoid is removed, tossed haphazardly onto the floor. You waste no time, moving on to his greaves. You're so close, your scent clouding his mind, and his skin prickles beneath the intensity of your gaze. If he wasn’t so dizzy with want, he’d be amused at how focused you are, the way your brows are furrowed and your bottom lip caught between your teeth. But he can't think straight, can barely even breathe.

The pieces fall to the floor, and the sound echoes through the quiet room. By the time his bracers are removed, he's already shaking. He can't help it. It's been so long, and the desire coursing through his veins is threatening to overwhelm him.

He pulls at the laces on your tunic, loosening them enough that he can tug the material down. He leans down, trailing kisses down the newly exposed skin. Your breath hitches, and his name is a sigh on your lips. He smiles against your collarbone, nipping lightly before he sucks a mark into the flesh.

"Kriff," you gasp, your hips jerking forward. "Howzer."

The sound of his name sends a jolt of electricity down his spine, and he moans. He pulls back to lift your tunic over your head, discarding it somewhere behind him. You're bare except for your breastband, and his eyes rake over your body, taking in the sight of you, mapping the scars and curves and dips. Most of them he's seen before, the few times you were injured during the war, but the new ones, the ones he doesn't know, they're more than he can handle.

He reaches out, tentatively running his fingers over a blaster burn on your stomach, and the skin jumps underneath his touch.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"Yes," you say, nodding.

He runs his palm over the scar, tracing its edges. The flesh is puckered and pink, and he knows it's a wound that could have killed you. It’s one he should have been there to prevent.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

You shake your head. "Not anymore."

He traces the scar, committing it to memory. There are others, some fresher, some older, and his eyes follow his fingers, touching each and every one.

When he's done, he meets your gaze. Your eyes are wide, and your lips are parted, and he feels his chest tighten. You're so beautiful. So perfect. And you're here, with him.

"Are you okay?" you ask.

"I'm fine," he says, shaking his head. "Better than fine. You?”

"Me too."

His hands move to your back, finding the clasp of your breastband and releasing it. He holds his breath as the band comes loose, and his eyes drop down to take in the sight of your bare chest. His cock twitches in his pants, and he has to stifle a groan.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, reaching out and brushing his fingers against your breast. "Absolutely perfect."

His calloused thumb scrapes against your nipple, and it hardens instantly. Your breath hitches, and he feels his pulse quicken. He wants to hear the sounds you make, wants to know what his touch does to you.

He leans down, and his lips replace his fingers. His mouth closes around your nipple, his tongue flicking against the stiff peak. You gasp, and he feels a surge of satisfaction. His free hand squeezes your other breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your body arches into him, and your breathy sighs turn into moans.

He's intoxicated by the sounds you're making, by the way your body responds to his touch. He can’t get enough, and he sucks harder, teasing your nipple with his tongue. Your hands are gripping his shoulders, and your hips are bucking into his, searching for friction.

You're so sensitive, and his head is spinning. He doesn't know how long he spends teasing and torturing you, but it's not long enough. When he finally releases your breast with a pop, you're panting, and your skin is flushed.

“Armor off,” you growl, and he chuckles.

"Yes, sir," he says, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. He reaches down and tugs at his boot, and you slide down the wall. The look in your eyes makes him shiver.

"I'm not your General anymore."

"No, but I'm still your loyal soldier," he says. It’s meant to be a joke, but it comes out more serious than he intended.

You smirk, and the expression sends a jolt of heat straight to his cock.

"Then get to it, soldier."

He raises an eyebrow, and if he wasn’t so turned on, he might be embarrassed by how fast he rips off his remaining armor, his fingers fumbling at the clasps. When he's finished, you're grinning, and his heart skips a beat. He whips the top half of his blacks off, tossing it onto the floor, and before he can register what's happening, you've wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss.

The feeling of your bare chest against his sends a bolt of heat through him, and his hands find their way back to your waist, pulling you closer. You moan into his mouth, and his cock throbs.

He's so distracted by the feeling of your lips and tongue and hands that he barely registers the tugging on his waistband. Not until his blacks are sliding down his hips, exposing his hard length to the cool air of the room.

"Kriff," he hisses, breaking the kiss. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"Hopefully not," you murmur, nipping his lower lip.

"Well, you're sure making it hard."

You look down, and your lips curl into a wicked grin. He feels his cock twitch, and a drop of precome beads at the tip.

"Hard?" you ask innocently.

He groans, leaning his head against yours. "You're awful."

"I know." You reach down and take his cock in your hand, stroking it gently. He can't help but moan. "But I think you like it."

"Kriff," he curses, biting back another groan. "I love it."

He closes his eyes, and your thumb brushes over the head, spreading the slickness around. His breath hitches, and he can feel the pleasure coiling low in his belly. You're so good at this, and he's already so close, and when you sink to your knees and look up at him through those long lashes, his brain short-circuits.

You grip his cock firmly, and he sucks in a sharp breath, bracing his forearm against the wall. You lean in, and your lips brush against his stomach, kissing the soft skin just below his navel. He trembles.

"Relax," you whisper, pressing another kiss to his abdomen.

“Fuck," he groans. "Don't tell me to relax."

He's so wound up, so on edge, his whole body is tingling. Your tongue darts out, and you lick a hot stripe up his cock, and his hips buck involuntarily. You smile, and his eyes flutter shut, his chest heaving.

Your mouth is warm and wet, and you wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue over the slit. His eyes squeeze shut, and his breathing grows ragged.

You begin to bob your head, slowly taking him deeper and deeper with each pass. When he hits the back of your throat, you hum, and his knees nearly give out.

"Fucking hell," Howzer moans, his voice cracking. His head falls forward, and his forehead rests against his forearm. His eyes are closed, and his mouth is open, and he's trying desperately to hold back the embarrassing sounds that threaten to escape.

You pull back, and the cold air against his saliva-slick cock makes him shiver. Your hand is still working him, pumping his shaft, and his balls tighten. He can feel his orgasm building, his whole body tensing, and it's too soon, much too soon, and he needs to slow down.

"Stop, stop, stop," he chants, pulling away from you. He's so close, so painfully close, and he can't stand the thought of finishing before he even gets inside you.

You pull away, looking up at him with confusion. "Why?"

"Because if you don't, I'm going to come," he manages, his voice hoarse.

You smile wickedly. "Is that so?"

"Yes."

"And what if I want you to?" You hum, your fingers teasing the tip of his cock. It’s the lightest touch, but it makes him jump. He closes his eyes, trying to compose himself. He's never been this close to losing control so fast, and he doesn't want to embarrass himself.

"Please," he begs, his voice a choked whisper. "Not like this. Not yet."

The teasing expression on your face melts into something softer, and you rise to your feet, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. He tastes himself on your tongue, and it only turns him on more.

"Alright," you murmur against his lips, your breath hot. "How do you want me?"

He feels the question like a punch to the gut, and his mouth goes dry. "I—um—"

"Howzer," you say softly, nipping his bottom lip. "Don't make me order you."

His eyes fly open, and his cock twitches. The image of you ordering him around, telling him what to do, how to fuck you—

"Howzer."

He's so fucked.

"Bed," he says, his voice a low growl. "Now."

The corner of your mouth quirks, and you raise an eyebrow. "That's not an answer."

He swallows and reaches down, trailing his fingers along the seam of your trousers. Your eyes flutter shut, and a breathy sigh escapes your lips. He watches you, and he can see the way your chest is heaving, the flush that creeps down your neck. It gives him the confidence to continue.

"I want you to take these off," he breathes. “And I want you on your back.”

"Yes, sir," you say, a teasing smile on your lips.

His heart lurches. "Oh, now you listen to me."

"Maybe I like when you're in charge," you purr.

He can't help the groan that escapes him.

Your hands slide down his chest, and you walk away, turning your back to him as you loosen the ties to your trousers. You make a show of sliding them down your legs, bending at the waist, and he nearly chokes when your underwear slides off, too.

"Kriff," he mumbles, his eyes glued to your ass.

You straighten and toss him a coy look over your shoulder, and he's helpless, completely and utterly enraptured.

"Like what you see?"

"Always," he replies, his voice low.

He can't stop himself from reaching out, his hand running up the smooth skin of your thigh. But you dance out of his grasp, laughing.

"Not so fast," you tease.

He growls, a sound that rumbles in his chest. "Don't be a tease."

"What's the matter, Captain?" you ask, stepping towards the bed. "Getting impatient?"

Howzer lets out a laugh of disbelief. He's beyond frustrated, he's already the most desperate he's ever been. Usually he’d play along with your games, but right now, he needs you, and he can't stand the thought of waiting another minute.

"Yes," he says, his voice rough. "Now get on the fucking bed."

You raise an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yes, sir."

You move, and in one fluid motion, you're laying down on the bed. You spread your legs, inviting him, and he nearly passes out. You look like every fantasy he's ever had, laid out for him, waiting for him.

"Like this?"

"Yes," he groans, his voice cracking.

"Come here, then," you say, your tone seductive.

He can see how wet you are, how ready you are for him. It makes his head spin, his heart race. He wants to taste you, to bury his face between your legs. But the ache in his cock is too strong, the need to feel you overwhelming. He has to take a deep breath before he approaches, afraid his legs won't work.

"What are you waiting for?" you ask.

"Just...taking in the view,” he replies, his voice low and rough. He tries to meet your eyes, but he can't stop staring at the apex of your thighs, at your glistening pussy, begging for him.

You giggle, a sound he's never heard from you before, and he decides right then and there that it's his new favorite sound.

"So poetic," you tease.

"I can be," he retorts, trying to play along even though all his blood is currently rushing south.

"Come on," you say. "Don't make me wait any longer."

He's never been able to deny you.

Howzer steps forward, and before you can register his movements, he's kneeling on the bed between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs. He's not gentle as he pushes them further apart, baring you to him.

"Oh," you gasp.

He smirks, and his eyes rake over your body as he settles himself between your legs. He takes a moment to memorize the sight of you, your hair splayed out on the pillow, your flushed skin, the way your chest rises and falls with every breath.

"Fuck," he mutters, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm going to enjoy this."

"Please," you whimper, your hips bucking. The sound of it wakes him from his stupor, and he grips your thighs tighter, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive flesh.

"What was that?"

You bite your lip and look away, but he can see the heat in your cheeks, the way your breathing is heavy.

"I said please," you repeat, turning your gaze back to him.

His smirk widens. "I couldn't quite hear you," he teases, his fingertips grazing the outside of your folds. He can feel how wet you are, how hot, and it makes his head spin.

You whine, and your hips buck against his hand. "Please, Howzer."

The sound of his name on your lips is like music, and he can't resist any longer.

Howzer leans down and presses a hot, wet kiss to your inner thigh. You gasp, and he sucks a mark into the skin, his tongue flicking out to soothe the sting. He repeats the process on the other leg, leaving a matching mark, and your body writhes beneath him. He pulls back, admiring his handiwork.

"You look good like this," he says, his voice a low rumble.

"You're a menace," you huff.

He chuckles and runs a finger along the length of your folds, gathering the slick that's pooled there. "That's not a very nice thing to say."

"You're not being very ni—ah!" Your words turn into a gasp when he dips his head, his tongue dragging through your folds, the taste of you coating his tongue. He feels you tremble, and your hand tangles in his hair. He loves the way you grip him, and the soft sound of his name spurs him on.

Howzer moves to your clit, his tongue circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips arch off the bed, and he has to use his forearm to keep you down, his hand splayed across your stomach. He slides two fingers inside you, curling them and rubbing the spot he knows will make you moan.

He's rewarded by the sound of his name, your breathy cries filling the room. He works you hard and fast, his tongue and fingers relentless. You're soaking wet, and he can't believe how hot and tight you are around his fingers.

"I've dreamed of this," he growls, his lips brushing against your clit.

"Really?"

He nods, and the movement causes his stubble to scrape against your skin. "Mhm. Ever since we first met.”

You let out a laugh, but it quickly turns into a moan when his fingers hit the right spot. "I-is that so?"

"Yes," he says, curling his fingers and pressing hard. "All those years fighting beside you, and I could barely control myself. It was torture."

You keen, your pussy clenching around his fingers, and he can't help but chuckle.

"I used to think about all the things I'd do if I ever got the chance."

"I thought about it too," you pant.

He looks up, surprised. The motions of his hand stutter, but he regains his composure, picking up the pace and making you gasp. "You did?"

You nod, and he watches your face, your eyes closed, your brows furrowed.

"What did you think about?"

"This," you breathe. "How you'd feel, how you'd taste, how you'd make me come."

The admission sends a jolt through him, and he moans against your clit, the vibrations making you writhe. He doubles his efforts, and his tongue draws patterns across your sensitive flesh. Your thighs tense around his head, and he feels the way you tighten around his fingers.

"I thought about you fucking me," you continue, and his eyes flutter shut. "About you filling me up and making me scream."

He can't help the noise he makes, a low, desperate groan. His cock throbs, aching for relief, and he knows he can't wait much longer. He needs you to come, needs to feel you come undone beneath him.

He can feel you getting closer, the way your breathing gets shallower, the way your muscles begin to tense. You're panting his name, and your hips are rolling, and he can tell you're close, so close.

“I’ll do whatever you want, sweetheart," he growls, the words muffled against your skin. "Just let go. Come for me."

The pet name seems to do the trick, and a string of curses spills from your lips as your body convulses, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. Your hands grip his hair, tugging painfully at the roots, and he can't find it in himself to care. He keeps pumping, drawing out your orgasm until you're writhing, begging for mercy.

When you're finally spent, he pulls back, resting his cheek on your inner thigh. He can't stop looking at you, can't stop drinking in the sight of you, flushed and satisfied. You're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and his chest feels so full, so complete.

"Well?" he asks.

"What?"

"Was it everything you imagined?"

Your face breaks into a smile, and you shake your head, laughing. "It was better."

"Good," he says, kissing the inside of your thigh. He slowly withdraws his fingers, and his lips find your clit again, sucking gently and licking up the fresh wave of slick.

You moan, and your hands fall from his hair to the sheets, clutching at them. He can't get enough, can't stop tasting you. He could spend hours between your thighs, and it wouldn't be enough.

"Howzer," you sigh.

"You taste good," he mumbles, not bothering to pull his lips away from your cunt.

"Come here," you plead. "I want you."

"I am here."

"No," you laugh. "I want you inside me."

"Is that an order?" he asks, teasingly.

"It is," you reply.

"Then I better follow it."

Howzer is on top of you in an instant, his lips finding yours. You moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, and he groans, his hips bucking against yours. His cock is pressed against your slit, and you're so wet, and it would be so easy to slip inside. He can't stand the thought of waiting any longer.

He reaches between your bodies, and you feel him lining up, the blunt head of his cock teasing your entrance. He pulls back, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against yours.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Always."

The word fills his heart with warmth, and he can't stop the smile that spreads across his face.

He's still smiling when he pushes inside, and his grin only grows wider at the feeling of your tight, wet heat around him. He has to fight the urge to come right then and there, and his hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise.

"Kriff," he gasps.

"Don't stop," you pant, your eyes screwed shut.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He thrusts in deeper, sinking another inch, and the noise that escapes your lips is the hottest thing he's ever heard. He does it again, and again, and before he knows it, he's fully sheathed inside you, his cock stretching you open, his hips flush against yours.

"Sweetheart," he breathes, the nickname coming out almost unbidden. "You feel so good."

Your hands are wrapped around his neck, and your eyes are screwed shut. Your brow is furrowed, and your mouth is hanging open, and he can't tear his eyes away.

"I—" he starts, but the words die in his throat. He can't find the right ones, can't articulate the depth of his feelings for you. So instead, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, and then another, to the tip of your nose.

You look up at him, and the expression in your eyes is so tender, so full of affection, that his heart skips a beat.

"I love you," he whispers, the words escaping him without thought.

"I love you, too."

His heart soars, and he can't help but lean down and kiss you, his lips crashing into yours. It's a messy, passionate kiss, full of heat and need and love. You cling to him, and he loses himself in the feeling of you, of your arms and legs and mouth. He sets a slow pace, his hips moving in shallow, lazy thrusts.

You break the kiss, gasping for air, and he takes the opportunity to hooks his hands underneath your knees, bringing them up and bending you in half.

"What—" you start, but your question is cut off by a moan as he thrusts deeper, the angle changing and his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you.

"Oh," you gasp.

"You like that?"

You nod, your eyes closing, and he grins. His movements are languid, and you're so wet, and it's the best thing he's ever felt, the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around his cock.

"So do I," he says, leaning forward to press a kiss to the side of your knee. "Feels so good, sweetheart. So kriffing good."

"Howzer," you murmur, the word a sigh.

He hums in response, and the feeling of it vibrates through his chest, his mouth still pressed against your knee. You shiver.

"You feel amazing," he says, his voice low and husky. "I can't believe how good you feel."

"Howzer," you groan, your hips bucking, the movement causing him to slide in even deeper on each thrust. "Harder."

"You want me to fuck you harder?"

"Please," you beg, your voice a whine.

"Fuck," he swears. "Yes, sir."

He pulls back and sets a new, punishing pace. He can't stop the noises that escape him, and his balls slap against your ass as he fucks you, the sound obscene. He's so close, but he needs you to come again, needs to feel you squeeze his cock, hear his name fall from your lips as you climax.

"Look at me," he orders.

You do, and the sight of your eyes, wild and dark with desire, is almost enough to push him over the edge. But he holds back, determined to make you come.

He wedges a hand between your thighs, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles. Your breath catches, and your cunt clenches around him, the rhythmic tightening sending him spiraling closer to the edge.

"Come for me," he groans, and he can't believe he's begging, but he is, and he doesn't care. "Please, sweetheart, come for me."

The pressure of his fingers and the sound of his voice are enough, and you shudder, crying out his name as your cunt spasms around him.

It's too much. He's been on edge for so long, and it's impossible to resist any longer. Before he can stop himself, he's coming, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, his cock pulsing as his balls empty themselves, coating your walls. He can feel his release dripping out, leaking down his shaft, and the thought of it is so filthy, so hot, that he nearly blacks out.

"Fuck," he gasps, his head falling forward. He's shaking, his body wracked with the force of his release. It feels like every single nerve in his body is on fire, and his vision is blurred, and the only thing keeping him tethered to reality is the feeling of your hands in his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

When his body finally stops trembling, he opens his eyes, and you're looking up at him, a smile playing on your lips.

"Hi," you say softly.

"Hey," he replies, his voice hoarse. He looks down and sees the mess between your thighs, his cock and your folds coated in his release. He groans. "Sorry, I—I should have asked if you were okay with that."

"It's fine," you reassure him, your hand stroking his hair. "It was good. Really good."

"I'll pull out," he mumbles, leaning down and kissing you.

"Wait," you say, and the sound is muffled against his lips. "Not yet."

"Okay," he whispers, pulling back.

"I just want to feel you for a little longer."

The words make his heart ache, and he leans down to capture your lips in another kiss, softer this time. Your legs fall from his shoulders, and they wrap around his waist, keeping him close.

"How's that?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

"Perfect," you murmur, running your hands down his back.

He presses his forehead against yours, and he closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling of you. The two of you stay like that for a few moments, neither of you wanting to move.

Finally, he pulls away, and the soft, disappointed noise you make sends a jolt through him.

"It's alright, sweetheart," he soothes. "Just trying to find something to clean us up."

You groan and bury your face in the pillow, and the sight is so endearing, he can't help but lean down and kiss the corner of your mouth.

"I'll be right back," he says, reluctantly untangling himself from your limbs.

"Fine," you huff, and the pout on your lips is adorable.

He climbs off the bed and walks to the 'fresher, and when he returns, you're propped up on one elbow, watching him. Your gaze is focused on his softening cock, and his cheeks heat up.

"Like what you see?" he asks, echoing your words from earlier.

You raise an eyebrow and smirk. "Always."

The blush deepens, and he clears his throat. He makes his way back to the bed, and he cleans up the mess that's leaking out of you, wiping up his spend. When he's finished cleaning both of you, he tosses the cloth to the floor and climbs into the bed, pulling the blankets up and tucking the two of you in.

"That's better," you sigh, curling up next to him.

Howzer wraps his arm around your shoulder, and you nestle into the crook of his arm. He rests his cheek on the top of your head, and the two of you lie in silence, enjoying each other's presence.

"I love you," you say softly, after a few minutes.

"I love you, too."

Your hand rests on his chest, and your fingers trace the planes of his muscles. He shivers, and he can't suppress the grin that spreads across his face. He feels like his heart might burst.

"So," you say, after a while. "How long have you been holding onto that?"

He snorts, and his arm tightens around you. "How long ago was that day on Kamino?"

"What?" you ask, surprise evident in your voice. You sit up and look at him, and he's pleased to see the blush that stains your cheeks. "You're kidding."

He shakes his head, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "Nope. That's when I knew."

"Howzer!"

"What?"

"That was...that was ages ago," you stammer, and the way you can't seem to get your words out makes him chuckle.

"Yeah, well," he shrugs. "What can I say? I'm a romantic."

"Well, I'm sorry it took me so long," you murmur, laying your head back on his chest.

"It's alright," he says, his hand finding yours and lacing his fingers through yours. "You're worth the wait."

"So are you."

He closes his eyes and presses a kiss to the top of your head. He can feel his eyelids getting heavy, and the weight of your body is comforting. The steady rhythm of your breathing is soothing, and before long, his consciousness begins to slip away.

The last thing he hears is the sound of your voice, sleepy and content.

"I love you, Howzer."

"I love you, too, sweetheart."

He drifts off to sleep, and the last thing he feels is the press of your lips against his chest, just above his heart.

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#captain howzer #captain howzer x reader #the clone wars #the bad batch #tbb howzer #captain howzer x you #clone smut #clone trooper howzer #clone x reader #howzer x reader #bad batch howzer #roy writes #*closes eyes and hits post*

432 notes · View notes

coldbrewarts · 5 months ago

Text

They’re just lil guys

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djarrex · 8 months ago

Text

burning hot

Howzer x f!reader | Fireball x f!reader | Howzer x reader x Fireball

ao3 | masterlist

The senator you work for assigned you to go to the clone base on Teth, where your primary job as a relations specialist has you venturing outside the job description.

It's been a while - but I just couldn't get these two out of my head. spoilers for the bad batch s3e6&7. 18+ only. explicit. oral. piv. a hint of creampie and a sprinkle of light choking. everything is consensual. almost getting caught. getting caught a little. after care and mention of the color system. a little bit of a threesome. I don't ship clones. no love triangle. reader is f! but no physical description is mentioned. It's been a long time since I've had to tag anything so please let me know if I need to add something. not gonna add user tags because I don't know who's out there anymore lol. enjoy the 10.5k words of smut with plot :)

Never would you have thought you’d one day travel to Wild Space, and yet here you are, just having entered the purplish atmosphere of a planet called Teth. You’re not traveling alone, though; you’re surrounded by a couple security guards of the senator you all work for, along with a few clones, although these particular clones are not soldiers of the Empire; they’re fighting back just as your Senator is, among a few others who remain in office. Your job is one that your Senator has entrusted to you when this all began, which is to facilitate communications and gather information for your office. Essentially, you speak with the clones about their experiences with the Empire, and see if there’s anything there that would help their case in the Senate, and eventually, to hopefully cast a light on the Empire’s crimes.

“We’re almost to the landing zone,” the pilot, a clone named Gregor, calls. Through the transparisteel you see the abandoned Monastery come into view, sitting atop a steep, mountainous pillar. Apparently, this is where the clones have set up their operations – their base. You figure it’s a good location because of how remote it is, being way out in Wild Space where the Empire’s shadow does not reach.

As the doors open and the ramp lowers, you see the several men who have been awaiting your arrival at the landing zone. Most of them, the ones who surround the pathway with their blasters held at ease, are in their helmets – but there are two clones in front of you without their helmets, one you quickly recognize as the Captain Rex.

You blink.

You know the other helmetless man, his hairstyle exactly the same as it was the day he was rescued, though now he’s in a full kit of armor, strapped with weapons. Your heart does a little flip at the sight of him. He looks good, you note. Healthier than the day you met him, and judging by the operation they have going on here, he’s been keeping busy.

Debarking the ship, you follow closely behind your security. You try not to linger too long on the giddiness you feel of seeing him again, but as you’re walking by, you see his eyes briefly widen with the realization of who you are.

He remembers you.

You first met Captain Howzer several months back, on the day he was rescued. Tagging along with your boss and security, you finally were able to meet the men who were the talk amongst the office: The rogue clones who were fighting back against the Empire. The garage in the lower levels of Coruscant was filled with these clones, some who were recently rescued and the ones who’d already been in the fight. On the day you met Howzer, you were getting to know the men who’d just been rescued that very day–him being one of them–by hearing their stories and gathering as much information as you could for your office, jotting down anything of note that could help the clones’ case in the Senate.

When you spoke with their captain, Howzer, you could tell he was angry – resentful. He told you all about how he’d been arrested back on Ryloth for merely opposing an order that was just plain wrong. Dissidence. He’d been arrested with several of his men who’d laid down their arms in solidarity, only to have been rescued with a saddening two who’d survived the year-long imprisonment.

The two of you spoke for what felt like hours – long after the garage had cleared out of visitors and others had fallen asleep. You weren’t sure what it was – but you were feeling a pull – one that brought you closer and closer to him until the both of you felt the unspoken. He was flashing you a look – and that’s what did you in.

Howzer fucked you in a supply closet that evening.

It was quick and desperate. Howzer had you pinned to the back wall of that supply closet just moments after he'd followed your invitation inside. As you quickly worked your bottoms off, Howzer's desperation was blatant, his cock straining against those tight gray pants he'd been wearing since the rescue. His hands were quick and his movements were sloppy yet he still was able to expertly find every little thing that got you off. At one point, Howzer had you bent over the counter of a shelving unit, roughly pounding you from behind with his hand pressed against your mouth. His normally perfectly styled hair was falling out of place, strands hanging down his sweat-slicked forehead. He had you seeing stars quicker than you’d anticipated, and when he was nearly at his own climax, he pulled out of you and finished off into the palm of his hand, punctuating the moment with a slap to your ass and a soft, breathy kiss to your temple that juxtaposed it all.

You’ve been working alongside clones for over a year now–since your boss had decided to covertly join the fight–and you’ve gotten to meet many of these familiar yet unique faces. It’s never been the way it was with Captain Howzer, though – not that you’re looking for that. However, since meeting him that evening, you always had the teeniest of hopes that you’d see him around again.

And now, several months later, you’ve run into him here on Teth.

You try to hide your growing smile by pressing your lips together and looking down at your feet as you walk. His boots fall in line behind you, and not even several steps later, he clears his throat.

“Remember me?”

His voice comes from behind you, gruff and playful at the same time, loud enough for only you to hear. You turn your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him from where he’s following behind you, his lips quirked at the corners.

You keep your voice low, glancing behind you as you walk. “Captain Howzer,” you greet simply.

He hums.

“Almost didn’t recognize you without the Imperial prison uniform,” you add.

Howzer lets out a wry laugh. “Felt real good to finally get out of those grays,” he tells you. “Felt even better to get back into my armor again.”

The group pauses, the leaders awaiting the doors to open.

“Glad to see you’re doing better,” you add, turning to face him fully. “This is quite the operation you guys have going on here.”

You swear you see Howzer briefly check you out, subtly eyeing you from head to toe. He grins. “So, what brings you here?”

“A job for the Senator. Apparently I’m good at getting you clones to share your stories and experiences.”

It’s the truth–that’s why you were assigned here for a while–but you’re also laying down little hints, something you know isn’t very professional of you but Howzer’s already reeled in.

He laughs at that, picking it up quickly. “I’ll say. I’d be happy to share even more with you.”

Barely minutes into a conversation with him and you’re already getting worked up, heat building in your lower stomach. “And I’d be happy to listen, Captain. That’s what I’m here for, after all.”

Howzer pitches his voice even lower. “How long will you be here for? You know, to listen?”

“Oh, that depends on how much you lot have to share.”

The same look appears in his eyes from your interaction all those months ago – the look that led the two of you into that supply closet. Even as the group continues inside, you can still feel his eyes on you.

“Once you’re settled, ma’am,” he says just a little louder, playing the part, “I’d be happy to brush you up on our progress here. For the Senator, that is.”

You once again fight to hide your knowing smile. “I’d be happy to listen, Captain Howzer. I’ll find you once I’ve settled in?”

He exhales deeply, a sly grin on his lips. “How about I give you a tour of the place first?”

Impatient.

But, honestly, so are you.

You look to your security and they nod in unison, and they step off to the side with a group of clones who are huddled over by the scanners.

You follow Howzer all the way to a seemingly unused doorway. He pushes it with some force to get it to budge, opening it up to the stairwell spiraling against the inner walls of the spire. The only lighting within the stairwell comes from the torch he just clicked on, and he takes your hand, guiding you down the spiraling steps until reaching the next platform. He sets the torch down and holds your shoulders, and you pull yourself closer to him.

“You know what’s been on my mind since seeing you come off the ship?” Howzer slips his hands under your shirt, teasing his way up to your chest. You gasp at his touches, legs already feeling like jelly.

“Tell me.”

He leans in. “How good you felt wrapped around my cock.”

You can tell just how wet you are already, and after waiting so many months to see him again, you’re growing impatient.

“I’m having a hard time remembering that,” you tease. “Maybe you could jog my memory?”

Even in the dim light you are able to see just how dark Howzer’s eyes get, the shadows of his face deepening with the expression of lust etching in his handsome features.

“Get your clothes off. Now.”

You start with your bottoms, pulling them off leaving yourself completely bare and exposed to the chilled air of the stairwell. Howzer doesn't take the time to remove all of his armor, only focusing on the parts that would get in the way. Before you can remove your shirt, Howzer stops you, his cock already hardened and in his hand.

“That’s good for now,” he orders breathily. Back against the stone wall, you bend your leg at the knee and Howzer takes it to hold against his armored hip as he guides his cock between your legs.

“You’re so wet,” he comments in a voice far too deep. He nudges into you, and the feeling was an incredibly missed one. “Gonna take me so well, baby. Just like you did before.”

“Howzer…”

“Hang on to me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and Howzer hoists you up, effectively impaling you on his cock in the process. You cry out, the sound echoing throughout the stairwell.

“Gotta be a little quieter than that,” he chuckles confidently. “I haven’t even moved yet, pretty girl.” He kisses you then, his lips too soft for what you know is to come. “Promise me you’ll stay quiet. Can’t have anyone hear us down here.”

“Promise.”

With your back pressed against the wall and your entire lower half suspended in air by Howzer’s strong grip, you press your lips tightly together, and nod to give him the go ahead.

Howzer adjusts his grip and starts to move. He snaps his hips roughly, creating repetitive echoes of the sounds throughout the stairwell. Armor on skin. It’s only slightly uncomfortable, but you’re too lost in the feeling of him fucking you again to care about anything else. Your head falls back against the stone wall but Howzer won’t have that.

Between heavy breaths, he brings you back. “Eyes on me.”

When you meet his eyes again, you start to crumble. Even in this state they’re still such a soft, inviting brown, and you practically allow yourself to drown in them as you both near the finish. He sets you down on shaky legs, and turns you around. You present your ass to him, arching your back the way you know he likes. Howzer chuckles at that and quickly lines himself up to enter you again.

“Gonna paint this pretty ass,” he promises through gritted teeth.

The change of angle sends you into a frenzy, only this time, you’re able to cover your mouth.

The way Howzer fucks you is so needy and frantic, everything that was pent-up driving the way he snaps his hips and grips your skin. You can feel him everywhere – consuming you. Your body starts to shake when your orgasm hits and Howzer can feel it – it affects the speed of his movements with how tight you start to clench around him.

“Fuck – that’s it – so tight.” He groans – a syrupy rumble in his throat. “Feels even better than I remember. Shit.”

You quiver as Howzer yanks his cock from you. The feeling of the loss is soon replaced by the feeling of his cum spurting onto your skin, the sensation making you moan. You must look like quite a sight, because he keeps humming and groaning quietly as he continues to fist his cock, milking every last drop onto your skin.

Howzer pulls a small cloth from one of his pouches and wipes you off with it, helping you stand upright on your shaky legs. He starts to reattach his kit to his armor as you pull your bottoms back on, doing your best to fix yourself up without a mirror.

“Now that we got that out of the way…” The both of you laugh before you continue, “Wanna actually share with me some useful information that I can relay to my boss?”

Howzer wipes his forehead – combs his fingers through his hair. “That I can do.”

It’s been a few weeks since you got to the base, and you’ve been welcomed by all as if you were one of them.

You’re all on the same side here.

You even have your own room, a place to retreat to when you need some privacy, and the men set up sleeping arrangements in there for you as well. You contact your office once a rotation to keep them up to date, though there hasn’t been much to tell as of yet. What you do know is that the clones are planning something big, a mission to help free more of their brothers, and you suppose you’re going to be here until that becomes more defined. Your security–well, they’re the Senator’s security–left after the first day because they were really only there to protect you, a member of the Senator’s staff, while traveling to Teth. After they did their job, they left, leaving you to do your job in peace.

Since your first day, you’ve gotten to know quite a few of the men who are stationed here, and you’ve been able to speak to the leadership as well as the ones who normally stay back while a certain few others come and go, whether it be with the leaders or on their own respective missions. Captain Howzer is one of the men who come and go, mostly staying at the side of Rex, the clone captain who was the original contact of your boss, the reason why you got into this job in the first place.

You stay inside of the Monastery, not being a huge fan of the climate outside the stone walls. What you do enjoy is stepping outside to see the sunset and watching how the two moons rise into the mauve sky, when the humidity isn’t at its peak. Otherwise, you’d never venture out into the tangly jungle, or dare to climb the rocky terrain by yourself.

When Captain Howzer is around, though – you end up wandering off to places you normally would never go on your own. He keeps you busy, even when you both have some downtime from your duties.

Your secret encounters started off with him simply sneaking into your room at a time when nobody would ask questions. Then, it became him guiding you to remote locations within the base grounds, like the leech vessel that remains safely docked halfway down the spire, or even the transport ship that’s been under maintenance. You’ve even found yourselves behind closed doors in the communications room in the dead of night, riding his lap in one of the chairs. It’s always been quick sex so as to not get caught, but there’s a connection there that has you both feeling its pull. He always finds you before leaving for a mission, and never fails to pay you a visit once he’s back and debriefed. Hells, Howzer even kisses you like he misses you, but it’s just physical, and has to stay that way.

Currently, Captain Howzer and several others are away – gone for the past few rotations. To be completely honest, without him as an obvious distraction, you’ve been able to really focus on your job.

You’ve just gotten off a call with your office and are finishing typing out notes into your datapad, when Fireball, one of the clones who was rescued from an Imperial prison transport nearly a year ago, calls out to you from the kitchen.

“Chow time!”

A man who has quickly become one of your favorites, Fireball has long been the elected sous-chef around here, gladly taking up the responsibility of feeding his brothers when Captain Gregor is away. He’s cooked for you every day since you got here, making the dishes just as spicy and flavorful as you like. Not only have the two of you bonded over the food, you’re sometimes the only two inside of the main area of the base while everyone is either keeping up with their own duties around base or off-world on a mission. In those moments, Fireball has been able to really dig deep into his past experiences with you, sharing some of the more painful details that he’d otherwise keep buried and repressed. It isn’t always gloomy conversation, though; he is quite funny and keeps you entertained with cheerful anecdotes from his days as a soldier of the Republic. You’ve truly started to look forward to eating and chatting with Fireball.

With a smile, you set down your datapad and head to the kitchen, where Fireball starts to shovel out stew from a pot into a bowl for you.

“Smells delicious,” you tell him appreciatively, taking the warm bowl from him. “Thank you, Fireball.”

“You’re very welcome.” He returns your smile, offering you a seat at the table. “I think I’m getting the hang of this cooking thing. Gregor taught me some of his recipes and I’ve enjoyed making them my own.” He sits down beside you at the table, watching you take your first bite with his brows raised. “This is my take on tiingilar – added my own modifications. What do you think?”

The warm colors of the vegetables and the spicy scent of the steam rising from the surface really add to the flavor of the bite, all of it coming together and melting right into your mouth.

“Wow – this is good. You really know how to win over a woman’s heart, Fireball.”

You could swear you see his cheeks darken with a blush, his eyes casting downward as he takes a few bites of his own. “It’s the Captain who’s won you over, from what I’ve been hearing,” he then adds with a chuckle. “Howzer’s been asking about you every time he makes contact. I should know – I mostly man comms around here.”

It’s your turn to blush, your cheeks heating with the comment. “I-It’s not like that,” you stammer awkwardly, failing to defend yourself. “I’ve been helping h– talking him through some things.” Fireball looks amused, still slurping on his stew and watching you trip over your words. “I– we– I mean not we, but– ”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he interrupts, waving you off. “I haven't spoken a word to anyone about your relationship with the Captain.”

You freeze.

“...Relationship?”

Fireball leans close, pitching his voice low. “I know about you two.” Your heart nearly drops, but he’s quick to offer you relief. “Howzer told me. He wanted to make sure that if anyone found out, I’d catch the chatter first on comms. I know it probably wouldn't be very beneficial for your office to find out.”

“Oh, well, thanks.” You wipe the embarrassment from your face. “How long have you known?” Taking a heaping bite, you purposefully avoid his eyes.

“Well, I've known ever since I sort of walked in on the two of you last week.”

You almost choke on the bite. “What?”

“In the comms room,” he quickly adds. “I’m normally up to check the channels every hour. I could hear the two of you behind the closed door, thankfully, before I could open it.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he chuckles. “I’m just glad Howzer’s in a better mood overall. Now I can figure that’s because of you.”

You blink at him. Something sits wrong in your gut, and it’s not the stew. The last thing you want is for the guys here to think of you as a piece of meat – someone who is only here to offer them relief in a physical way. If word got out about what you and Captain Howzer have been getting up to, not only would that tarnish the view of you in the clones’ eyes, but would cost you your job for sure.

“Hey, I was sent here to help all of you – to offer an ear for your experiences but while also taking down anything of note to help the cause for not just my people but yours as well.” You sit up straighter, setting the spoon down. “We are all on the same side here, but I’m not just– not just a booty call.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, I’m sorry,” Fireball amends, his hand coming to rest over your own. “I know why you’re here. You helped me on the day I was rescued, too.” He smiles. “I haven’t forgotten about what you did for me on my first day of freedom, how you showed compassion and empathy towards what I’d gone through with the Empire.”

You soften then, offering an apologetic smile. You remember Fireball, meeting him in the same garage in the lower levels of Coruscant only a few months prior to Howzer’s rescue. “I’m glad I was able to help.”

A silent minute goes by then, the two of you finishing up your stew. When you take the last bite, he collects your empty bowl, making the short walk to the kitchen and setting them in a pile to be cleaned later.

“You being present, eating with me says more than you know,” Fireball adds after taking his seat beside you once again. “Normally I’m by myself in here when the leadership is away, back and forth between keeping the others fed and monitoring communications.”

You nod along with his words, unable to hide your growing smile stemming from your heated cheeks. Fireball continues and you listen.

“It’s just nice to have somebody to talk to, somebody different.” He rubs at the back of his neck, flashing you a bashful grin. “It doesn't hurt that you’re beautiful, too. I understand why Howzer’s so taken with you.”

Something clicks then.

You’ve developed a crush on Fireball.

It makes sense – him being someone who’s always there, someone who you’re always looking forward to chatting with. Of course he’s attractive, but it’s not just the exterior you admire about him; you truly appreciate who he is as a person – the decisions he made leading up to his turn against the Empire. Sacrifice. Heart. He’s brave and resilient. Maybe you’re just being silly, but you think he feels some type of way about you as well.

You and Howzer aren’t a thing. It’s okay to feel something for somebody else.

“I have to confess something,” you say to him, locking eyes with his curious ones, rounding as you begin to speak. “The guys here are so lucky to have you on their side. You’re a real catch – and honestly, any woman would be lucky to have you, too.”

The mood suddenly changes – the air charged. You want him, you decide. You briefly reason with yourself that this would not go against what you were saying before, about how you don’t want to sully the guys’ opinions of you by offering yourself up like this. This – this is different. You feel a connection with Fireball, one that’s full of tension that’s ready to snap at any moment. It’s too strong to turn your head away from, and you’re well aware the man sitting beside you feels the very same.

“Oh yeah?” Fireball bites his lip – runs his fingers through his hair. His voice lowers, gruffer and thick. The sound of it goes through your core. “Any woman?”

You take a beat, your heart thumping in your chest. He’s gotten closer – subtly leaning toward you. His hand slowly comes up, fingers gently pinching your chin.

“Say it, beautiful.”

You know he can do more than just cook and make you laugh – a man who is competent with more than just incendiary weapons. He’s been holding something back for a long time, you just know it.

“I want you,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

And you want him to let loose.

“Stand up.”

Even though his voice came out just as quiet as yours, his tone was firm and certain, nothing to defy. You’re quick to stand, and in seconds Fireball is standing as well, his hands grasping your upper arms. You blink at him, awaiting for what should come next. You sense that he’s going to be the one calling the shots here – guiding you exactly where he wants you to go. He may not be part of the leadership around here but he sure as hell is in charge at this very moment. His eyes are deep in thought, that much you can tell. You figure he’s trying to decide on where to start, and the anticipation is making you clench around nothing.

Finally, his eyes make a decision, his hands offering your arms a gentle squeeze.

“Turn around.”

You oblige, awaiting further guidance.

“I also have something to confess,” Fireball says, his lips just behind your ear. You hold your breath as his hands travel all over your body, his touches featherlight and teasing. “I’ve wanted you for a while. Ever since you got here, maybe even before, when I’d heard you’d be joining us for a while.”

“Oh yeah?”

He bends you over the table in one motion, and pulls your bottoms down to your knees in the next. You swallow thickly as his discarded gloves plop beside you on the tabletop. Breathlessly glancing over your shoulder, you catch sight of him slowly crouching down, his face just inches away from your bare skin.

“Yeah. And when I heard you and the Captain in the comms room last week, I had to find someplace quick to work one out. Couldn’t get the sounds you were making out of my head.”

Fireball caresses your skin, his fingers coming close to your folds. Knowing he’s that close to touching you where you want makes you clench, a sight that he appreciates.

“Has… Howzer ever tasted you before?”

The question alone makes you whimper.

“N–no. Not yet.”

He only hums at that.

“Fireball – touch me, please.”

He continues to tease you, fingers gently prodding through your folds. The soft squelching sound of your arousal heats your face. Growing impatient and desperate for something more, you wiggle your hips, hoping to hint at him to stop teasing and get to it.

“You said to touch you, beautiful, and I am touching you. If you’re wanting something else, I need to hear you ask nicely.”

You could almost roll your eyes at that, but you’re far too worked up to be a brat. You know from experience that certain behaviors, though they can be fun, won’t get you very far.

“Please put your mouth on me. I want to feel your mouth on me, please.”

His response to you is a throaty chuckle, soon followed by exactly what you asked for. When he finally puts his mouth on you, you nearly cry out in relief.

He starts slow – still teasing while giving you the bare minimum. His lips plant little kisses to the backs of your thighs and all over your folds, his hands holding your hips steady. You’re so worked up that even the small amount he’s granting you is almost enough, but knowing what’s still to come, your body aches for more.

“Fireball, please, more.”

“I appreciate the manners.” You feel him chuckle again behind you, the vibrations even more teasing. Finally, you feel his tongue poke out between his lips, prodding through your folds.

You slam your hand against the tabletop. “Oh, fuck.”

He hums in satisfaction, quickly losing himself in your taste. Fireball practically latches his mouth to your pussy, his tongue vigorously working its way through and between your folds. The suction of your clit caught in his lips nearly ends you right then and there, but sensing that you’re incredibly close, he removes his mouth from you and instead stands. Disappointed, you turn your head to face him, catching sight of him wiping his mouth and removing the guard on his armor.

“I need to know what you feel like wrapped around me, beautiful.”

Seemingly awaiting your approval, Fireball runs his fingers through his hair, holding his hardened cock in his other hand. You gulp at the size of him, flushed and leaking. You haven't even touched him and he looks like he’s about to bust, his own arousal coming from just the taste of you.

“Fuck me, then.”

He hums.

You feel the head of his cock slide through the mess he made between your legs, and as he pushes himself in the slightest, you can’t help the shudder that rips through your body. He’s big, and even though you’re more than wet enough to take him, you’re clenching too much in anticipation.

He laughs at that – soft and sweet yet full of cockiness.

“Easy, darling. Barely even inside of you yet.” Fireball groans, the sound of it sending even more heat to your core. “Take a deep breath for me.”

You do, and he feeds his cock into you in that very breath.

“I won’t last very long,” he tells you once his armored hips are flush with your rear. “You feel too incredible.”

He starts to thrust then, slowly at first and even at the current pace you’re losing your mind. He’s so deep inside of you that you can feel him in your stomach. You don’t realize just how silent you’ve been through it all–too focused on holding your breath and keeping the noise to a minimum–until Fireball comments on it, briefly pausing and checking in to make sure you’re okay.

“‘M fine,” you assure him. Your hand finds his own from where it's grabbing your hip – extra reassurance. “Faster. Go faster. Please.”

You’re guided into a standing position, your back meeting the cool, hard armor covering his body. Fireball’s hand wraps around your throat, not squeezing with too much pressure but it's very much there. His other hand finds its way between your legs, rubbing at your clit to match his increasing speed. It isn’t long until you’re crying out in ecstasy into the palm of your head, tears brimming in your eyes at the intensity of it all. When you climax, Fireball feels it for sure, his own cresting at breakneck speed.

“Where do you want me,” he breathily gasps into your ear, still rubbing your clit into overstimulation. You don’t have it in you to care though, legs wavering from your ongoing climax.

“Inside,” you whimper. “I have the implant.”

“Fuck, okay.”

Fireball cums inside of you – and the feeling is indescribable.

Never before have you been with a partner who felt like this during an orgasm. He makes the most sinful of noises as his cock swells deep inside of you, his body shaking against yours. He pants into your ear while your entire cunt heats with his amount of release, enough of it to seep out even with his cock still fully inside of you, feeling it trickle down your thighs.

Fireball bends you down against the table once again when he pulls out, a gush of warmth following. Crouched down to watch his handiwork, he swipes his fingers through some of the mess along your inner thighs, bringing it back to where it belongs.

“Messy girl. Took me so well.” He stands, guiding you back to your feet, “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

“Anybody could have walked in on us,” you laugh breathlessly, that very realization making you quick in redressing, not caring about the mess still dribbling down your thighs and now soaking your underwear.

Tucking himself back into his undersuit and reattaching his guard piece, Fireball blinks dreamily at you. You’re pulled in by the look in his eyes, full of satisfaction and adoration. Your lips meet then, a passionate kiss that punctuates the moment perfectly.

“I should get to the comms,” he tells you almost apologetically. You nod in understanding, meeting his lips for another kiss. “See you around?”

“Of course,” you reply. “Looking forward to our next meal and conversation.”

The unspoken third activity hangs in the air, Fireball grinning knowingly at the implication.

It wasn’t even an hour later when some of the others came back to base after being away for a few rotations. You heard the team return, conversations loud enough to sound as if they were occurring just outside your room. Something about running into another shadow – those assassins you’ve been briefed on. Figuring this is a conversation you should be apart of, you gather your datapad and go to head out the door.

Right as you’re opening the door, Howzer is there.

“Welcome back,” you tell him with a hint of surprise in your voice, not at all expecting him to be right there. “I was just coming out to see what was going on.”

“We’ll debrief you later. Rex and Gregor have other business to attend to at the moment.”

You set down your datapad. “Oh, okay. Well, if you’re hungry, there’s a huge pot of tiingilar on the stove that was made about an hour ago. Should still be pretty warm–”

Howzer interrupts you when his lips passionately meet yours.

“There’s only one thing I’m hungry for,” he mumbles against your lips, quickly shutting the door behind him. “And she’s standing right here in front of me.”

You giggle at that, once again being swept off your feet when Howzer’s lips reconnect with yours. It happens so fast – his hands roaming your body. Too lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours and his tongue tasting your lips you don’t realize one of his hands has already lost a glove and found its way into your pants until you jolt from the sensation. Your reaction makes Howzer pause, a curious brow raised.

You never cleaned yourself up from earlier. A request to make contact with your office had come in immediately following what took place in the kitchen, and you were so consumed with work that you completely forgot to take care of yourself.

And Howzer noticed.

“What’s the matter? A little sensitive down there, baby?”

You only manage a nod, bashfully smiling through it against his lips. Howzer continues, only now his fingers move your soaked panties to the side. He pauses again, this time pulling his face from yours.

“Oh?” He hums playfully, narrowing his eyes yet still keeping his cocky smirk. “You're a mess.”

His fingers slip inside you with ease, and his eyes widen. You choke on a gasp when his fingers pull from you, his hand raising up between your faces for you both to see. Coated on his digits is the creamy film of a mixture of releases, and some of it still dripping from your pussy from what happened between you and Fireball.

“Now who did this?”

Howzer once again lowers his hand and slips his fingers inside of you, pulling them out only to swipe at your sensitive clit. The motions make your body jolt again, and he takes notice, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

“Here I was thinking you took care of yourself because you’re just so needy.” He shakes his head, his tongue coming to wet his lips. “Now I see I’m not the only one you’re fucking around here.”

Howzer wipes his hand onto his glove, his eyes never leaving yours. Guilt and shame immediately flood your entire body – but you’re unsure why. You and Howzer aren’t a thing – nothing official. So why does he sound so–not angry, not upset–disappointed?

He tilts his head, a cocky look once again appearing on his face as he watches you.

“Hey, it's okay,” he tells you genuinely, reaching for your arms and pulling you towards him. He guides you toward a wall, your back firmly pressed against it. “I don't mind sharing. Why don't you tell me who it was, baby? Tell me who beat me into cumming in this perfect pussy while I was away.”

Crouching down, Howzer guides your bottoms off, pulling them from your feet and tossing it all to the side. He watches how you squirm under his gaze, his eyes taking note of every detail from the encounter you had.

“Couldn't have been Gregor,” he comments absently, swiping his fingers through your mess. He plants a kiss to an unsullied part of your inner thigh. “Couldn't have been Rex, either.”

The very names of both captains being used in this context makes you shiver, the thought of either of them touching you in such a way heating you up inside. They’re both incredibly competent – strong – skilled. You’re sure they’d completely and utterly ruin you for anybody else.

Howzer chuckles at your reaction and stands up, his hand still toying with you. “It wasn't them but I can tell you wouldn't mind that, hm? Such a filthy, needy girl. You'd take all of us at one time if that were possible, wouldn't you?”

The thought truly never crossed your mind until now – something to revisit later. You’re getting yourself into trouble – the best kind. You’re afraid of getting addicted to the feeling of these men touching you, first Howzer and then Fireball. They may be clones, but from what you can tell so far, they do things in their own, unique ways. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t at all curious about how the others would handle you – if they’d take you roughly, tenderly – if they’d use their mouth on you or speak filth into your ear.

Your own fantasies scare you – threatening to make you lose sight of who you are and why you’re here. The most debauched of images flash into your mind – a scene of multiple men of this base taking turns using you in any way they desire.

Fingers slowly thrusting into you as he awaits your response, you gasp out a shaky “Yes”, making Howzer bite his lip.

He peers at you with darkened eyes. “We can discuss that later.”

But he's not finished questioning you yet.

“Was it Greer? Samson?” Howzer’s hand quickens, fingers plummeting harder into you. He curls them, too – massages the spot that makes your brain fuzzy. Lips brushing against your jaw, he continues to rattle off a few more familiar names, but you shake your head at each of them.

“Nemec?”

No.

“Fireball?”

When you finally hear his name, you can't help but gasp. Howzer catches on, humming thickly at your wordless confession.

“Ah, I see. I'm sure he was good to you, baby, so why are you this needy and wanting more?”

Howzer removes his hand then, instead heading over toward the door, leaving you pantsless and unfulfilled.

“Howzer, please.”

Hand reaching for the door controls, he turns his head over his shoulder. “Why don't I call Fireball in here so he can properly take care of you, hm? Seems you were left unsatisfied.”

When you don't respond right away, Howzer approaches you, his face serious and concerned. He takes your hand. “If this is too much, please let me know. It's all just talk if that's what you're comfortable with. We don't need to take it further.”

“I appreciate your caution. I really do – but I'm fine with it, Howzer.”

“You're sure?”

“I– I like that idea,” you admit quietly.

Howzer raises an intrigued brow.

You feed into it then, reiterating the foundation of all this talk.

“I let Fireball cum inside of me.”

“I know, baby. Want to tell me what else he did?”

“He ate me out from behind and fucked me against the kitchen table.”

Howzer’s eyes widen at your confession but narrow just as quickly, seemingly disapproving of the carelessness you displayed. Every encounter you had with Howzer so far has been off the beaten path, definitely not in a common area in the middle of the day no less.

He shakes his head.

“Anybody could have walked in on you two.”

It was risky – but exciting.

You bite your lip at the memory.

“I know.”

“When was this?”

“About an hour ago.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Howzer puts his hands on his hips, tilting his head to the side in thought. He watches you intently with his lips twisted. “Hm. Clean yourself up, then take off your clothes and get on the bed. I'll be back soon, okay?”

You nod, Howzer kissing you before throwing out one last command: “And don’t touch yourself.”

Body shaking and your heart pounding with anticipation, you quickly clean yourself up with a damp rag and shed the rest of your clothing before getting into your bed, just as you were instructed. Implications of Howzer’s final comments to you has you spiraling, different scenarios coming to the forefront of your mind. He’s going to get Fireball, you know it. He’s going to bring him right here to you, and the two of them will take turns with you – or, maybe, they’ll use you at the same time.

Your pussy flutters at that idea.

You try your hardest to present yourself in the best way for their return, propping yourself up against your pillows and wrapping the blanket around parts of you that they would have to remove themselves to expose you. It’s a lengthy twenty or so minutes until Howzer returns, but just as you thought, Fireball’s right at his side.

“Hello, boys,” you say in the sweetest voice you can muster, despite the small amount of disappointment for the wait. Their eyes flash the very same dark shade of desire, pooling deep in those soft brown eyes they share.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, darling. I made sure no one would be around. Had to make up an excuse to borrow Fireball for the evening.”

“You didn’t touch yourself while you were waiting, did you, beautiful?”

Your eyes flicker to Fireball, shaking your head no.

“Good girl. Following orders so well already.”

Howzer agrees and starts to undo his holders and the rest of his armor, Fireball wordlessly following the other in preparation. Neither of them take their eyes off of you for too long, staring at you as if they mean to devour you completely.

And you think they just might.

Dressed only in their undersuits now, Howzer doesn’t break eye contact with you as he addresses the other, gesturing to you with a jolt of his chin.

“Fireball, she told me what you did out in the kitchen, where anybody could have walked right in,” he begins, that same firm, disapproving tone present in his voice as it was with you. “Now, I want you to show me exactly what you did to make our girl so damn messy.”

Our girl.

You could get used to this.

“Of course.” Fireball grins. “I’d be happy to.”

You bite your lip at Fireball as he approaches, but you glance quickly to Howzer, who has decided to sit this one out in the chair against the wall.

His eyes don’t leave you, though. He’s going to watch.

“A proper bed,” Fireball comments, caressing your cheek in the palm of his hand. He rips the blanket from your body and leans toward your ear, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “I can’t wait to break you apart. I’m going to ruin you, beautiful.”

Your heart skips a beat, then Howzer speaks up in the background almost knowingly. “We all know the color system, correct?”

Not looking towards the man in the chair, you nod, Fireball nodding along with you.

“Good.”

With that, Howzer leans back, legs spread. You can already see the outline of his cock straining in his skin-tight pants.

He wants a show, and you’re going to give him one.

That is, if Fireball doesn’t destroy you first.

“I can’t believe how messy you were,” Fireball comments in disbelief as his hand slips between your legs. “Kept me inside of you that whole time, even let Howzer finger you like that.” He continues stroking you, paying extra attention to your clit. “Spread your legs this way,” he directs, angling your body so you’re exposed to Howzer. Fireball teases you in the same fashion as he did just a little while earlier, planting kisses all over your thighs and folds until you’re begging him for more. Howzer, meanwhile, has started to palm himself over his clothes, watching with his lips parted.

The extra pair of eyes on you turns you on even more.

“Fireball, use your tongue like you did before.”

He smacks his lips, squeezing your thigh in warning. “Now, now, where are the manners you were using so politely before?”

You’re not in charge here. You never were.

“...Please.”

Satisfied, Fireball grins. “Good girl.”

He attacks your pussy with his tongue, only this time, he’s sloppier. Maybe it’s the change of angle, or maybe it’s the audience, but he’s using his tongue in a way that has your head spinning and hips bucking. Fireball seems to be spurred on by this, doubling his efforts and even using an arm to keep you pressed into the bed. He switches to suck vigorously at your clit before lapping at you and it’s already far too much. Your body is desperate for release.

“I’m– I'm going to cum. Please let me cum. Please.”

He pulls his mouth from you, his lips smacking against your wet folds from a sloppy kiss. Wiping his mouth, he flashes you a devilish grin.

“Not yet. You’re going to cum on my cock, just like before.”

Defeated, you flop your head back onto the bed, your climax receding. You know that the disappointment won’t last for long, though.

Fireball stands, kicking his bottoms all the way off and peeling his shirt off over his head. You’re granted a perfect view of his entire body, the muscles and hair and soft patches making your head spin. You even discover he has a tattoo – a rather large piece that starts from his hip and travels up his side, the shape of flames twisting around to his pectoral.

You go to adjust, to change position, but Fireball stops you. “No, no. You lay just like that,” he tells you, guiding you back to where you were. “Hold your knees up for me. Good girl – just like that.”

Still laying on your back, both men have a perfect view of your pussy, clenching with need before their eyes.

Fireball leans down to your ear again, his cock hot and dragging heavy against your stomach. He’s so incredibly warm. “We’re going to give him a show. When I cum, I’m going to fill you, and you’re going to take it all like the good girl you are.”

You gasp at his filthy words of promise, but Fireball isn’t pleased with your lack of verbal response. He pinches your cheeks between his fingers, not hard, but definitely firm enough to get your attention. “You tell me if I’m going too rough,” he asks you sincerely. “I’m having fun with you, but stop me if it’s going over the line.” You nod weakly, desperate to feel him between your legs once again. He shakes his head. “Sweetheart, I need you to say it.”

“I’ll let you know,” you promise. “I’m green, Fireball.”

“Good.”

With that, he stands back up at the edge of the bed, scooping his hands under your rear and dragging you up above the edge. Your hands grab at your knees as instructed.

“Deep breath,” he commands, turning his head over his shoulder at Howzer, almost as if he’s giving him a pointer – a jab about his size.

Your lower half hovering over the bed, you take that deep breath, already knowing what’s to come. Fireball impales you on his cock, sinking even deeper than before without the armor as a hindrance. Every part of his hips and groin make contact with your skin this time, including the maintained curls at the base of his cock. He holds there for a few moments, taking deep breaths, almost as if he’s composing himself.

You once again glance at Howzer, his cock outside of his waistband now and being fisted by his hand.

You could gush from the sight alone.

“I’m green,” you remind Fireball.

Sweat already starts to bead at his hairline, strands of hair falling out of place. He looks wrecked already and he hasn’t even begun moving yet.

“You feel incredible like this,” he sighs in admiration. “I should just have you sit on my cock while I’m manning comms. Keep it warm for hours until you’re shaking.”

“Fuck, Fireball–”

“Yeah, would you like that, beautiful? To be my pretty little cockwarmer?”

“For fucks sake, enough,” Howzer growls out from behind him. “Just fuck her already, or step aside.”

You almost laugh at how Howzer’s impatience is somehow shorter than your own, but Fireball isn’t having it. He goes from zero to ten in seconds, pulling his cock all the way out before slamming back in. Your entire body jolts from each thrust, breaths being punched out of your lungs almost uncomfortably. The feeling of his cock knocking into the back wall of your cunt is all you can focus on, and as Fireball becomes more intense, he stalks talking.

“Tell him, beautiful,” he begins, his skin slick with sweat and lips parted. “Tell him who the first one was to cum inside this pussy. Tell him who claimed you there first.”

You hear Howzer groan from behind him, and it spurs you on. You did want to give him a show, after all.

“You did, Fireball,” you choke out. “You did.”

“Damn right,” he continues, more hair falling out of place. “And I’m going to do it again, but you’re going to cum with me. You cum when I say and only when I say. Understood?”

“...Yes, sir.”

Your ranking comment seems to be one that does Howzer in, because you can hear the telltale sounds of the Captain cumming into his own hand. Fireball though, he takes your comment and runs with it, twisting his face into determination. The muscles of his abdomen flex violently as his thrusts change into quick jabs. He’s utterly disheveled, but he’s not done with you yet.

“I can feel how close you are. You’re so fucking tight around my cock.”

You nod absently, too far gone to speak. There’s so much pressure built up inside of you that you feel you’ll burst at any moment; and that moment comes when Fireball’s fingers find your clit, rubbing at it in quick motions.

“Cum. Now.”

You’re thankful to hear the words, because you fear you were about to anyway. You feel yourself gush around his cock, along with that familiar feeling of heat coming from his own release being pushed deep inside of you. You’re drunk on it – utterly lost in euphoria. Out of your body. The only thing keeping you tethered to reality is how Fireball caresses your cheeks, so incredibly tender compared to how he just handled you.

“You okay, beautiful?”

His eyes look wide with concern, full of fear that he crossed a line. You reassure him with the sincerest smile you can manage at the moment, your head still dizzy with endorphins.

You then see Howzer appear beside Fireball, his face reading the same expression.

You reach up to take Howzer’s hand. “You wanted Fireball to make a mess of me again,” you say quietly, still coming back to your body. “Look.”

Both men look at where you’re gesturing, their eyes blown wide and lips parting with a groan. You clench and relax your muscles, pearls of white seeping out from your swollen pussy and dripping onto the floor. You giggle tiredly at their shared reactions.

“I know you need a break, baby,” Howzer says, running his hand along your thigh. “But I want you so bad right now.”

“Then have me,” you offer. “I promise I’m green, just a little tired is all.”

Fireball cleans himself off and starts to redress. “I’m going to get some water.” He hands Howzer a different rag and places a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Howzer lifts you and lays you down the other way, your head now supported by pillows. He strips off his undersuit and takes his place beside you, one hand caressing different parts of your body while the other carefully runs the rag between your legs.

“You’re breathtaking,” he tells you. “And you looked so good getting fucked like that.”

You smile at him, holding his chin in your hand, running your thumb along the scar. “I can’t believe you just watched,” you tease. “I almost expected you to push Fireball out of the way, especially after how impatient you got.”

He laughs at that. “I’ll still have you, baby. I’m not worried.”

“Have me now, Howzer.”

“You sure?”

“Please. I want you.”

“Okay, pretty girl. I’ll be gentle.”

Howzer climbs on top of you, holding your face in his hand as he swipes his cock through your folds. You wince at the sensation, far too oversensitive for any type of teasing. Even though he just came into his hand not long before you got yours, he’s already hard again, and easily slips inside of you. Both of you share a soft moan, Howzer’s eyes fluttering shut at the feel of you wrapped around him.

Your leg bent and held against his hip, he slowly starts to thrust, his heated chest pressed against yours.

“I missed this,” he admits. “I thought about you a lot while I was away.”

“Fireball told me that you were asking about me every time you made contact.” You giggle when Howzer looks away in embarrassment, but your hand finds his scarred cheek, delicately redirecting his eyes to yours. “It was sweet.”

Howzer’s lips meet yours, his hips resuming that same, slow pace. It’s relaxed yet he’s still hitting so deep, a balming sensation that sends butterflies through your stomach.

A knock at your door makes you both pause briefly, but you soon recognize it as Fireball returning with water, and invite him in.

“Leave it on the table,” you direct Fireball. “And come over here.”

Howzer gives you a curious look, though not letting it phase his movements. Fireball obeys and is at your side in an instant. You take your hand from Howzer’s shoulder and instead reach for the waistband of Fireball’s undersuit. His brow raises, and this time, Howzer halts.

“I want to suck your cock while Howzer fucks me.”

Both men once again widen their eyes.

“This is what I want,” you offer before either of them can object or make an argument for your sake. “Howzer, it’s okay, you can go a little harder. I know you want to.”

Howzer smirks at you and nods, adjusting himself to kneel upright so he can give you what both of you need. Fireball can’t help but reach for your breasts, running his hands all over your chest. You guide his cock out from his undersuit and he steps closer, resting a knee on the bed to get a good angle.

“Howzer, I want you to cum inside of me. Fireball, I want you to cum on my tits.”

“Oh, fuck,” you hear one of them groan.

Looking up at Fireball with pleading eyes, you open your mouth and extend your tongue. His jaw practically drops at your gesture, taking that as the goahead to feed his cock into your mouth. You taste the tang of release still clinging to his skin and you quickly start to crave it, your mouth watering for more.

Howzer resumes his own movements, his hands clinging to your hips like a vice. They both use you, one cock nudging the back of your throat while another punches into your gut. Howzer’s normally perfectly styled hair quickly becomes mussed from exertion, those combed strands collapsing down his forehead.

Fireball thrusts into your mouth over and over again, drool starting to dribble down your cheek and chin. He keeps one hand occupied with squeezing your breasts while the other finds a home wrapped around your throat, just as it was earlier. That same tingly sensation floods your senses again from even the faintest of pressure offered, sending sparks to your core.

“She’s so close,” Howzer tells the other, as if you aren’t there.

Fireball smirks at that, squeezing your throat with just a little extra pressure.

“Fuck, do that again,” Howzer groans. “She liked that.”

Fireball repeats the motion, squeezing then releasing, and each time you clench with the return of pressure. It’s so much and just when you thought you couldn’t possibly have another one in you, your third orgasm of the evening hangs right there, though this one doesn't feel as disastrous. You start to welcome it but hold back, awaiting permission.

“It’s okay, beautiful,” Fireball coos. “Cum for us.”

Howzer chimes in, slowing his thrusts and angling his hips upward to hit that spot he knows will send you over the edge. “C’mon, baby. You can cum.”

When it arrives, it washes over you like a cool, replenishing rain, different from the others that were burning hot and unforgiving. You feel at ease and brand new. You feel safe with these men, knowing they’d do anything to take care of you. As you start to come down from your relaxed high, the pair dote on you with praise and gentle touches, then switch their focus to finishing themselves. You help them get there anyway you can, adding in extra clenches for Howzer and tongue movements for Fireball.

It isn’t much longer after that when Fireball pulls out of your mouth and pumps himself at the head, squeezing as his cock spurts his cum onto your chest. Howzer starts to crumble at the sight of the white ropes painting your breasts and drool coating your chin, and shortly after that, he’s burying himself as deep inside you as he can, pelvis flush with yours, and shakes and groans with his own release.

Both of them looked wrecked yet so satisfied. They also share the same admiration in their eyes as they get you cleaned up and hydrated.

Fireball sits at the edge of the bed, offering you and Howzer the blanket to cover up.

“Can I ask you both a personal question?” You and Howzer glance at each other, nodding in unison to Fireball before he continues. “What started…” he gestures with his hands to the two of you lying beside one another in bed, “...This?”

“We actually met several months ago,” you start to explain.

“And hooked up that same day,” Howzer adds with a grin. “Guess we sort of picked up where we left off.”

You laugh. “Captain Impatient here couldn't wait to get me alone on my first day here.”

Howzer shakes his head at your nickname, and Fireball only nods along as he listens to the two of you go back and forth.

“I don’t want to get in the middle of anything,” Fireball finally chimes in. “You two have something here – and I don’t want to ruin that.”

You make eye contact with Howzer, both of you thinking the exact same thing.

“You’re not ruining anything,” you assure him. “What Howzer and I have–” you look at Howzer again, to ensure you’re both on the same page, “--It won’t go beyond this right here.”

Fireball turns instead to his captain, wanting to hear what he has to say.

Howzer considers for a moment, tenderly grabbing your chin before responding. “I already told our girl here that I don’t mind sharing.” He pauses again. “That is– if you don’t mind sharing, Fireball.”

Fireball grins. “I definitely don’t mind. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t getting in the way of anything.”

Simultaneously, they both make eye contact with you. Howzer’s fingers delicately run across your cheek. “Are you okay with it, darling?”

You ponder their offer for a moment, thinking about everything it could cost you. You’re here for work, not for pleasure. You’re way out in Wild Space because you were entrusted with this job. Yes, you would lose this job if word got around that you’re sleeping with the clones. Yes, you’d lose the trust of many, and perhaps lose the faith of your people, who are counting on your office to fight against the Empire in a diplomatic way.

But you look at these two men, one laying next you, the other sitting at your bedside. Both of them would protect you without a second thought. Both of them have already shown how much they care about you. Both of them still allow you to do your job, mutually benefitting from it. They take your mind off everything that’s going on – the oppression of your people, the tragic experiences of recently rescued clones, the disheartening news when a mission fails.

And when the need arises, both of them can make you feel things unlike anything you’d ever felt before. It started with Captain Howzer – and you’re not at all about to turn away Fireball. You have strong connections with both of them, and you’re not willing to give up the physical aspects of those relationships.

Sitting up, you grab their hands, holding them in your own. You keep a serious expression on your face, wanting to display that yes, you’ve given this a lot of thought, even though you already knew your answer. You want to show them that you’re taking this seriously, and that their caution and concern are dually warranted.

That serious expression of yours morphs into eagerness, a smile forcing its way across your lips.

“As long as I can do my job without too many distractions, and as long as my office doesn’t find out – I’m okay with it.”

#djarrex writes #captain howzer x reader #clone trooper fireball x reader #howzer x reader #fireball x reader #howzer x reader x fireball #the bad batch #tbb #clone thirsting

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syndullqs · 1 month ago

Text

soft mornings — clone trooper headcanons

summary — what soft mornings look like with some of our favorite troopers

warnings — painstakingly soft, gn!reader, some cheeky moments with cody, might be a part 2

note — UH YEAH ITS BEEN A MINUTE HI! this won the poll so it’s FINALLY out. sorry if it sucks…pls enjoy!

arc trooper fives

shore leave with fives is not short of fun

but there’s also moments where the two of you just need to relax together

you’re sipping a cup of caf one morning, reading something on your datapad when fives walks in, his hair tousled which is coupled with the grey sweatpants

aka he’s lookin fine af

he sits down next to you on the couch, and you watch him as he settles his head on your shoulder

fives is clingy, but especially in the mornings

you set your datapad down on your lap, and with your free hand your buried your fingers into his hair and massaged his scalp.

which earned you several grunts and moans from fives

“you’re a mess,” you would tell him, and he’d only bring himself closer to you, wrapping his arms around your middle.

“but i’m your mess,” he’d look up at you with the biggest brown eyes full of love and ugh

once that man gets caf in his system though it’s over

captain rex

due to unpopular belief, rex is not a morning person

like he would rather be stuck in bed, curled up with a blanket than be anywhere else

so when he is on shore leave, the bed is his best friend

not that you would be complaining

the sun would be peaking through the curtains, brushing against his skin, casting shadows on his muscles.

aka he looks ethereal

you sit yourself on your elbows, running a hand over his back and leaning over to press kisses between his shoulder blades

rex just groans, not wanting to wake up and face the day, but also the feeling of your touch is sending him through the roof.

“good morning, my love,” you would hum in between kisses to his shoulder blades

“mornin’,” he mumbled back.

aka an absolute softie

mornings with rex are always soft, always warm, and always safe

rex has never felt safer whenever he’s with you on shore leave

captain howzer

now this man, THIS MAN, is a morning person and boy does it show

he loves getting up before you when he’s on shore leave, making you breakfast and a hot cup of caf

he loves the quiet mornings despite how rare they are

you’d get up after feeling his lack of being there, following the smell of breakfast

you’d wander into the kitchen, find howzer standing with his back to you

shirt off ofc

you’d wrap your arms around his middle and rest your cheek between his shoulder blades

a very sweet and very warm moment for the both of you.

the feeling of your arms around him secures him in place, it tells him he’s ok.

you’re his safe place

“smells absolutely amazing,” you hummed, earning a deep chuckle from howzer

“glad it does, it means i’m not burning it,” he replied as he twisted his body to kiss you on top of your head.

howzer loves cooking, even if he’s not that great at it

you definitely teach him

mornings with howzer are soft, but be ready because the slowness to the morning doesn’t last long with him

commander cody

if there’s anyone out of this bunch who’s cheeky in the mornings it’s cody

but he has his soft moments too

he doesn’t stay in one position all night, he’s definitely one who will fall asleep one way and wake up another.

he wakes up first, and when he sees you’re still asleep?

he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever

he’ll watch you for a bit before he brings you closer to him, wrapping you in his arms

you would slowly wake up, but would melt right back into his touch.

it would be all soft, cody running his fingers up and down your back

and then he’d start kissing your neck

“cody!” you would squeal out in surprise

“what? you’re my breakfast,” he’d say casually

“whatever, lover boy,” you would blush.

his hands would roam, but they would respectfully

he never would do anything you weren’t comfortable with

so, mornings with him were always a little cheeky, but always soft and warm

commander wolffe

wolffe isn’t used to being on shore leave, no matter how many times he’d done it

but for some reason whenever he started dating you he eased up

clearly there’s an obvious reason

mornings are rough for him

he’s up early, sitting in the living room, with his sweats on and a hot cup of caf in his hands

mind you it’s not even light out

but you feel an absence without him, so you crawl out of bed and wander into the living room

“hun?” you softly called to him, and he turned his head to face you

wolffe definitely doesn’t get good sleep

so, when he sees you wander into the living room, his shoulders sag and he relaxes.

“couldn’t sleep, so just came out here,”

you sit yourself in his lap, and he absolutely loves it

he loves you being close to him; it helps him relax and it does help him sleep

the two of you would sit there, in silence, and wolffe would focus on you and your presence

you’re his grounding point, and no matter how quickly sleep evades him, you always manage to help him rope it in

commander fox

we all know that fox isn’t a morning person. like, at all.

when he gets a chance to sleep in, much less sleep at all, he’s sleeps HARD

fox is also a cuddle bug, fight me

like he wants to be close to you, but he doesn’t want nor like anyone knowing that about him

mornings with him are always started with him refusing to wake up

“we’ve got to get up, my love,” you’d groan, trying to wiggle out of the tight grasp he had you in

“i’m off, no we don’t,” he’d mumble into your neck, causing shivers to crawl down your body.

so you would lay there, your fingers threading through fox’s curls

he’d feel the safest with you, he’d feel seen by you, and those two things were the most important things to him, besides you of course

“what if i make you breakfast and caf?” you hum into his ear

now, that gets him going

“i’ll get up for that, especially since you’re making it,” he lifted his head out of the crook of your neck and kissed you

you’d end up laying there still, by the way

probably end up falling back asleep because who wouldn’t want to cuddle fox and tell him he’s gonna be ok

#star wars #star wars imagines #star wars imagine #star wars the clone wars #commander fox x reader #commander cody x reader #commander wolffe #captain howzer x reader #captain rex #arc trooper fives

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grampsoninspace · 1 year ago

Text

doctor’s orders.

Please, don’t let it be him.

Please no…

Please!

“Good evening,” a warm voice interrupts your silent pleading with whatever force is listening. There’s strain in the usual honeyed tone, which jerks your chin upward with an invisible string. Your panicked thoughts are replaced by your emergency mode, your hands trembling with adrenaline at the pain in the man’s voice.

“What did you do now?” you hiss, assessing the patient visually before you even get close to him, watching blood drip steadily from a wound just shy of his temple.

Captain Howzer smiles up at you with mischief in his brown eyes.

“I got a little too close to the action, Doc,” he shrugs.

“How many times do I have to tell you? The blood belongs inside of your body, Captain. For Maker’s sake, can we go a single week without you risking life and limb for the nearest being?” You pull your gloves on with an angry snap.

“Well… it is my job,” he tells you, trying to sound the slightest bit remorseful and failing miserably.

“I don’t care if it’s your job — it’s going to be a little hard to do it if you’re dead,” you shake your head, starting to remove his armor to assess the rest of him.

“You’re fussing again,” Howzer’s voice drops in octave and volume, much too near your ear.

“Well, that is my job,” you mimic his accent poorly, daring to look back into his eyes as you remove his chest plate.

His full lips are twisted in the faintest smile, and he is watching your every move. You roll your eyes but you can feel yourself blush, choosing instead to focus on removing his pauldrons, gauntlets, and gloves.

“I know... I like it when you fuss over me,” he leans forward and yanks the top of his blacks off with one hand, exposing his skin down to his waist.

You turn back to face him and remind yourself with a deep breath and a mental lashing that you are a fucking professional and you will do your job without incident or…

Or…?

What were you saying?

“Well?” he prompts.

“Hm?” you raise your eyebrows, pretending you were listening.

He leans back with his palms flat on the exam table, his knees farther apart than you remember. “I asked you a question.”

“Which was?” you ask, frowning, silently cursing yourself.

“I asked what your diagnosis was,” he smirks.

“I don’t know yet,” you rub your forehead with the back of your hand. “I need to get your head cleaned up first. Do you feel pain or discomfort anywhere else?”

“No pain…” His smile is teasing. “But I still expect a thorough examination. I could be in shock.”

You give him a look. “Behave yourself, Captain.”

Howzer holds his hands up. “I’m just asking you to do your job, Doc. I wouldn’t expect any less but the closest attention to detail when you’re in charge.”

You swallow, and he won’t look away from your eyes — even as you start to gently clean the wound on his forehead and he sucks in a breath through his teeth, grabbing your wrist roughly and trying to pull your hand away.

Your stomach flips but you give him a stern look.

“Captain. When I said to behave yourself, I clearly meant you need to allow me to do my job.”

“Warn me next time,” he growls, releasing you.

“I did!” You smack his hand down. “I told you I had to clean your head…”

“Oh, that’s what you meant,” he smirks up at you as you continue removing the blood from his skin. You press harder in retaliation and he grabs both of your wrists.

“Stop being belligerent or I’ll let you fuckin’ bleed to death,” you tell him through gritted teeth.

“Which one happens first?” he asks, your wrists still bound in the shackles of his rough hands.

“What—?” you ask, scrunching up your face.

“You said you’d let me fuck and bleed to death,” he repeats, pulling you forward and tugging your hands behind his back so your face is much too close to his.

“Do you think it could be in that order?” he drops his voice down deep and low, his breath warm on your skin.

“You know damn well I did not say that,” you tell him, trying to sound sure of yourself, but your voice shakes.

“Do I?” he asks, searching your face with his dilated eyes.

“Should I check your hearing?” you ask sharply, but his gaze lands on your lips.

“What?” he jokes, and you sigh in his face.

“Captain.”

His eyes flick to yours, and he leans back just enough to let your hips rest in the V his legs have made. “Say my name, and I’ll be good for you.”

“This is very unprofessional behavior,” you frown.

“I’m no snitch,” he whispers. “Besides, is it against protocol for you to use your patient’s name?”

“Of course not,” you sigh again. “But I’m using your title as a sign of respect, just as I would do with anyone else.”

“And I love that about you, but I wanna hear you say my name,” he grips your wrists harder, gives you a little yank, and you arch into him involuntarily.

“Captain Howzer…” you say, trying to keep your tone even and clinical.

“Close,” he smiles but shakes his head. “But no. Just say my name, and I’ll behave.”

You take a deep breath, knowing he’s absolutely full of shit without running a single test to prove it.

“Howzer…” you say in a low voice, your temple pressed against his. He hums low in his throat, and the vibration of it in his chest seems to travel wherever your body is touching his.

You let your lips brush his ear: “Can you please allow me to finish my exam now?”

“Yes ma’am,” he rumbles, letting go of your wrists and planting his hands on the edge of the table again.

His eyes are closed and he keeps very still as you clean his head wound, patching it with bacta and exploring the rest of the lines in his face, running your fingers over the deep scar on his cheek.

“Field medic work,” he smiles, leaning into your touch. “Didn’t have your finesse.”

“Doesn’t change anything,” you blurt out quietly.

His eyes slide open and they are darker than a starless night. “Hm?”

“You know,” you frown, pushing his face to the side to check his neck and shoulders with careful hands.

“What do I know?” he asks, his cheek twitching with how badly he’s trying not to smirk. “What doesn’t the field medic’s work change?”

You sigh roughly in the back of your throat as you move around the table to check his back. “Your… face.”

“Oh, because every clone has the same one?” he asks, a defensive lilt to his teasing.

“No!” you poke him in the shoulder blade, hard.

“Then what?” he twists, to try to make you look at him again, but you push him forward.

“What did you promise me?” you frown. “Be still, Howzer.”

He inhales deeply and sits up with perfectly straight posture. You run your hands down his spine, then press your fingers where you know injured organs would reveal tender spots. He doesn’t flinch, but you don’t know if that’s his training or an actual lack of pain. Nothing seems out of place, but knowing him, he’s probably hiding something.

“Get up,” you pat his shoulder.

He obeys, standing perfectly at attention.

And as you help him remove his lower armor, it’s very apparent that he’s not the only one.

You instantly blush, despite having seen countless human bodies in all different contexts… your whole body flushes with warmth which travels between your legs. You’re removing his knee pads and the feelings you’re having are so improper you feel yourself blushing harder with shame…

“Sorry Doc,” he says quietly. “Natural reaction.”

“To what?” you blurt out, looking up from your kneeling position into his face.

He smirks. “I think we both know you know the answer to that… You’re a doctor. You know how the human body functions in these situations…”

You shake your head. “I’m making sure you’re not going to die of internal injuries, Howzer. I’m not doing anything to try and…cause this.”

“Don’t have to,” he says, low and rough. “You just are.”

Your fingers are still on his thigh, just about to get him to lift his foot to let you remove his boot, when you stop and feel your jaw go slack.

“Please stand up,” he asks. You oblige him, and he sits back up on the exam table, obediently removing his boots for you without breaking eye contact once. You swallow around your dry throat, taking in the sight of him there in nothing but the bottom half of his blacks, which he’s now standing again to remove.

Howzer sits back up on the exam table in just his dark briefs, which — despite their color — are not doing much to hide the topic of your discussion.

Why do I want it in my mouth?

Your eyes are wide when you meet his gaze again, thankful beyond belief that he can’t read your mind. But he smiles softly like he can.

Why is that a thought I’m having right now, when I should be making sure he isn’t in any more pain?

You try to snap out of it, distracting yourself by looking fo contusions or abrasions, any signs of internal injuries or dislocated bones… You put your gloved hand on his thigh to inspect a discoloration there and his body reacts visibly to your touch.

“Howzer…” you whisper, “Should I stop?”

“Please don’t,” he breathes, reaching out to grip the wrist closest to his bare skin.

“I… I need you to stand up and turn around,” you tell him quietly, and he does as he’s told, letting you peruse the backs of his legs and the bottoms of his feet.

When he turns around again, he’s mere inches from your body, his muscles taut and his face hyper-focused on yours.

“I don’t see any other… problems,” you swallow, your voice barely audible. “You’re free to dress and go now.”

“But I don’t want to,” he shrugs, lifting his hands to cradle your face.

He doesn’t kiss you.

He brushes his nose against yours, touches your foreheads together, rubs his cheekbone up and down your cheek.

You can feel the rough texture of the skin on his face and let a soft sound escape your careful throat.

Howzer locks onto that sound like a heat-seeking missile, pressing his hand gently to your throat and repeating the motion he thinks you liked — his cheek pressed to yours.

You whimper lightly, just barely audible, and he loses his careful control to what he wants most.

He kisses you so hard it snaps your head back; you gasp into his mouth and he takes that as an invitation, exploring inside with his tongue. He only breaks the seal your lips have made to let you breathe, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your jaw and down your neck, hungrily making his way down to taste as much of your skin as he can reach.

His hands move from your face and neck to unbutton your uniform coat, pushing it down off your shoulders onto the floor, sliding his long fingers under the shirt you wear beneath.

“I want this off,” he tells you, and you nod your permission, lifting your arms to let him strip you from the waist up.

He removes your bra so quickly and easily it gives you the slightest moment of hesitation and doubt, wondering how many women he’s collected inside the warmth of his body just like this. But his hands are holding your breasts and his tongue is in your mouth again, and you quickly forget your fears. His fingers travel down to the waistband of your pants, and you don’t think you’ve ever taken them off so quickly in your entire lifetime.

“Fuck,” he whispers, looking at you in nothing but your underwear. “You’re perfect.”

“Prove it,” you tease him. “You get naked first.”

He smiles at you with bright eyes, yanking his underwear down and hopping up to lie back on the exam table with his arms behind his head, all too comfortable.

“What’s the verdict, Doc?” he asks, eyes closed, body stretched out for your (scientific) inspection.

You remove your gloves and run your fingertips from his broad shoulders to his hip bones, watching his dick twitch at the attention of your hands.

“I think you’re perfectly…healthy, Captain,” you tell him, your eyes landing on the glorious thickness he’s been hiding in those briefs.

Howzer props himself up on one elbow, turning just enough to ripple more muscles like a statue carved of some ancient god from another galaxy.

“Your turn,” he drawls, gesturing with his finger toward your underwear, and you shake your head.

“Oh now that’s just not fair,” he crows, climbing back down off the exam table and putting his hands on your hips, changing tactics.

“Do you want me to take them off for you?” he gives you a half-smile, his eyes blazing a path from your bare breasts to the fabric between him and his goal.

You nod slowly, pushing your hips just slightly forward as he dips his thumbs in the band around your waist.

“I need to hear you say it,” he says quietly.

“Please take them off,” you try to whisper, but it comes out like a whine. He looks into your eyes expectantly, wiggling his thumbs but not moving his hands any more than that.

“Howzer…” you groan. “Please.”

“That’s better,” he pushes your underwear to the floor and runs his hands back up your legs as you step out. “Isn’t it?”

He kisses you again, softer this time but no less hungry, pulling you back with him onto the exam table. He wraps his arms around you until you’re flush on top of him, nipping at your lips and running his hands all over your body, seeking friction by pressing his hips up into yours…

“Would you like to ride me, sweetheart?” he rasps, his erection pressed against your hip, his heart pounding in his chest against yours. “Because I’d like nothing more than to see you get on top and use me however you want.”

You know your face must look like you’re in pain, the need for him so strong it feels like your heart could stop. You move your knees apart and brace yourself, letting him help you to a more upright position, crawling back until you’re hovering right above him.

You look into his eyes as you guide him to your entrance, inhaling shakily as you feel the tip slide past your resistance, shoving your knees farther apart and dropping slowly to take him deeper. His eyes practically roll back in his head the farther down you go, groaning low in his throat when he’s fully sheathed inside of you.

The two of you stay very still for a long moment, just breathing while you both adjust. When you start to move on him, he looks up at you heavy-lidded and reaches up to grope your breasts, moaning a bit as you sink your fingernails into his shoulders trying to find a rhythm you both like. You roll your hips and grip him good as you do, filthy curses escaping his swollen lips with every thrust.

Howzer lifts his knees slightly to support you, gripping your hips tight as you ride him hard, forgetting every reason you shouldn’t be doing this as you lose yourself to the feeling of him inside of you as his hands explore your ass.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to fuck you like this?” he asks roughly, one hand gripping your ass, the other running up your back to grab a fistful of your hair. You shake your head, unable to form cohesive thoughts as you move on him faster, your need for him only increasing the harder you fuck him.

He sits up suddenly, spreading his legs and bending his knees, wrapping his arms around your lower back and staring right in your eyes as he fucks you right back.

You run your hands through his hair, rubbing the fuzz where his head is shaved and crying out as he hits the perfect spot while holding you this close.

“Since day one,” he rasps. “I’ve wanted you like this since I first met you. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about taking you right here, just like this…”

He grunts as you clench around him, wetter than ever and panting his name, blissfully close to him making you cum in his lap right on your fucking exam table.

“Fuck me, Howzer,” you beg him, all sense of propriety lost in the lustful haze clouding your brain and flooding your body with heat. “Please just fuck me.”

“No, baby,” he denies you. “I want this to last.”

“But I’m so close,” you whine, pushing him down on his back and riding him harder.

He moves his hand from your hip to press his fingertips to your clit, not bothering to move them with how quickly your hips are rocking, and your head rolls loosely on your neck as your back arches. You bite your lip to keep from screaming as he drags the orgasm right out of you with his lazy fingers and his ridiculously perfect cock.

“Howzer, I can’t, I’m gonna…” you whine, and he pulls himself up again, locking eyes with you as he feels you hit your threshold, a strangled moan slipping out of you as he keeps you close while you cum.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxes as you start to slow your movements to a near-stop, “Are we done already?”

“Sit up,” you tell him, climbing off of him and the table, kneeling and watching him swing his legs over the side.

“Am I already due for another exam—” he chokes on his teasing remark as you take his leaking dick into the tight wetness of your mouth, rolling your tongue underneath him and hollowing your cheeks.

“Fucking Maker,” Howzer groans, his hands instantly tangling in your hair, hips bucking toward your face. “You keep that up and I’m not going to last much longer either.”

Your only reply is to bob your head, taking him deeper toward your throat with each motion, using your hands to grip what can’t fit inside your mouth.

“Oh sweet fuck,” he growls, turning into an absolute mess as you stare up into his eyes while you suck him off. He doesn’t know where to put his hands and he’s trying so hard to let you do what you want, but you can feel him throbbing and you know he’s ready to lose it.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know where you want me to cum, but you’d better decide fast,” he rasps, his eyes squeezing shut.

You keep him in your mouth, but pull back just enough to swirl your tongue around his already-sensitive tip. He groans and shoves his dick deeper in your mouth, yanking your head back by the hair as he loses control. He cums down your throat with a series of grunts and moans your name when he’s finally finished. You swallow every drop, content to lick him lazily until he groans and tugs on your hair to make you stop, guiding your face back up to his.

“You’re mine now, I hope you know,” he growls in your ear, his scarred cheek pressed to yours as he does.

You nod in agreement, feeling his fingers slip between your legs again as he kisses you gently at first…

But you make sure to call him “Captain” when he makes you cum the second time, with nothing but his tongue.

#bad batch #bad batch fic #captain howzer #captain howzer x reader #howzer x reader #clone trooper howzer #tbb howzer #howzer my beloved #howzer x female reader #star wars tbb #tbb fanfiction #sw tbb #sw tbb fanfic #star wars smut #grampsoninspace #be nice it’s my first post lol

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moonstrider9904 · 6 months ago

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Gardens of Yesteryear

This fic is for the Clone Troopers and their Flowers event! @arctrooper69 this goes out to you!

Pairing: Howzer x Female Reader

Synopsis: on a very important day for you and Howzer, you’re unable to find the one thing you need to make the evening flawless. Will that stop you?

Tags/warnings: SFW. No real warnings, just fluff. Established relationship, brief mentions of alcohol.

Word count: 2.6k

Crossposted to AO3

As you bumped into one of the many flower-filled buckets for the third time that visit, you scolded yourself for leaving it to the last minute. There you were, in the fifth flower shop of the morning, and you’d had no luck finding those flowers. The day before, you’d thought your reasons to wait until the actual day were decent. You didn’t want them going bad, you didn’t want the petals crumbling or the stems going stale. You wanted all the best for him, for your special day.

You couldn’t believe it had already been three years.

The memory of your beloved coming into your life prompted you into taking a deep breath in the middle of the flower shop amidst all the people happily buying their bouquets of sunflowers or lilies, all flowers that were easy to find and renowned by everyone. It had been a rainy summer, that one, and it was the summer your life changed when you put it into perspective. The decisions you made, the people you met… you remember your man being the sensation. Everyone was talking about him and you’d heard his name mentioned and repeated days before you even got the chance to meet him, and surely enough, you also fell for Howzer’s charms when you first laid eyes on him. It was hard for you to fathom your luck—the sheer way in which the universe had smiled at you, told you yes, you may have this man to love and to hold.

A smile appeared on your face when the memory of when he’d asked you to be his came into your mind. The clouds had cleared on that day and you felt a warm sunshine on your skin. The breeze that day carried the smell of grass and flowers and the noise of children laughing and families going about. Donning a sundress and a cute little hat with sandals that matched it, you’d met Howzer underneath an oak tree whose green leaves looked radiant in the sunlight, and he’d arrived with a stunning bouquet of blue freesias. The way the blue shade matched the colors of his armor from his days as a soldier didn’t escape you, and that was when he’d asked you if you wanted to make your relationship formal. You’d never been quicker to say yes to anything, and those flowers remained on a vase at the center of your home for longer than any other bouquet had in your entire life.

Your mother’s words came to mind, of that one time she told you, “When someone’s flowers last that long, it means their feelings for you are really strong.”

But your heart also ached at the memory of how beautiful Howzer’s gesture was. Now that you were hitting the three year mark, you wanted to replicate the feeling in him, let him know that you’d also be willing to go over the top for him any time. And while most of your three-year-anniversary date had already been planned out, this part remained a secret.

In theory, since your flower endeavor was a secret, there would be no real consequence to you not going through with it. But you were unwilling to let it slide.

Then, as the florist came back around the counter from the back of the shop, you took a deep breath, feeling your pulse rise as you anticipated all the things she could possibly say to you.

“I have good news and bad news,” the florist said.

“Oh, maker,” your words shook from nerves as you exhaled your tension, but your tone remained kind. “Start with the bad news, please.”

“Well, I have two pieces of bad news,” the florist continued. “I have no blue freesias, and I have no freesia arrangements already made.”

You nodded. “Okay… what about the good news?”

“I have freesias in just about any other color. If you’re willing to work with that, just tell me what other colors you want and I’ll have an arrangement ready for you in thirty minutes tops,” she smiled at you.

Your heart sank, and the florist took notice.

“I don’t mean to make it worse,” the florist said, “but if you’d come around one hour earlier, I think you still would’ve found some blue ones.”

You chuckled, your laughter dipped in slight disappointment. “Yeah… an hour ago I was at a different flower shop, and they told me the same.”

The florist gave you a sympathetic smile. “I can work wonders, you know. Why don’t you let me mix some white, purple, and pink freesias and sprinkle in some golden motifs?”

A thought suddenly perched itself on your mind as you remembered the warm glow of the evening when your relationship with Howzer started. Everything had seemed so golden around you, and after all this time, that was one of the first things that you thought of when the memory came. The next thing you always seemed to think of was how beautiful the teal of Howzer’s armor looked whenever the ambience around him was so warm. The image was vivid in your mind, and your heart raced with joy as you thought of your handsome Howzer, in that perfect lighting, only belonging to you.

“You know what?” You smiled at the florist. “Do you have any yellow and hot pink freesias?”

“You bet,” she replied.

“Okay… do you think you could mix all the colors, but give the warm tones priority? And maybe we could keep the golden motifs.”

The florist nodded at you. “Give me a half hour and I’ll surprise you.”

A half hour sounded wondrous. In that time, you could go to the bakery next door to get some of the last things you needed before your anniversary date.

“You’re a hero,” you told the florist. “I’ll be back!”

The sun had started to go down on the sky, and the light it cast on the outside took that beautiful shade of gold you so loved. Despite the flowers not going according to your plan, the bouquet the florist got for you was still gorgeous, and if anything, it complimented Howzer’s signature colors. You had the whole thing planned out, figuring you could trust the kind florist to help you with one last endeavor to give the evening one more level of charm. You never wanted to be predictable when it came to Howzer, especially not when it came to a day as important as that one.

You were approaching the spot Howzer had chosen for your date. He had the tendency to not be predictable when it came to you either, and though it would have been sweet to have your date where it all began, Howzer chose a place that was new to you. At a park in a quieter side of the town, where there was grass, benches, tall trees, and even a fountain, and you felt the romance in the air from the moment you arrived.

You marched yourself across the park, feeling occasional blades of grass brushing against the skin exposed on your sandaled feet, and the gentle wind flowed in harmony with the skirt of your white sundress. You made your way towards the spot of the park Howzer had told you to meet him beforehand, and when you were at a short distance, you spotted him talking with two of his brothers. He saw you coming, as you could tell by the way his gorgeous brown eyes landed briefly on you only for him to gesture hurriedly at his brothers to leave, causing you to giggle softly at him. Howzer was a gentleman, but you loved it whenever your charm brought out his more clumsy side.

As you walked up to him, you took in every detail of Howzer. Though you weren’t at the same oak tree, the warm light of the evening matched the memory so well it might as well have belonged to you and Howzer already. As for your boyfriend, Howzer wore light brown pants and shoes that were a slightly darker shade, almost approaching a milk-chocolate color. His white shirt seemed to be made of a light, breathable fabric, ideal for days with such high temperatures and warm winds blowing, and the white shirt had thin cross-stitch patterns embroidered along the length of his chest in teal thread, his signature color.

A large grin plastered itself on your face as you took those last steps between Howzer and yourself, and your free hand went up to his shoulders as you leaned in and perked yourself up on your toes to greet him with a light kiss on his cheek.

“Hi, love,” you chimed.

“Hi,” Howzer smiled at you, his gaze traveling over your silhouette. “Wow, you are… you are stunning.”

You giggled and gave a little twirl on the spot. “Thanks.”

You then paused as you watched him standing there, his hands hidden behind his back as he smiled a tad nervously at you. You took that moment to take in the rest of the details around you: the red and white blanket placed on the grass, a large plate with grapes, hams, and cheeses, a wooden tray with short legs to safely hold a bottle of rosé wine and two slender cups, and series of warm fairy lights already powered on for them to grow progressively as the sun set. You smiled at the scene and set your basket of bread down on the blanket, your chest swelling with joy as you looked over at Howzer again, ready to tell him how beautiful the set up was.

But Howzer remained with his same uptight posture, hands insistently behind his back.

You giggled again. “Well? Aren’t you gonna kiss me?”

“U-Uh, right,” Howzer stammered, revealing one of his hands from behind his back. “Suppose I could just do this.”

“Mmm yeah, you could,” you chirped as Howzer bent forward and kissed your cheek sweetly. Smiling brightly, you turned your face to face him directly, and Howzer leaned in again to press his lips to yours.

You sighed dreamily, sinking into the familiarity and warmth of his lips, letting your fingertips travel up to brush the skin on the sides of his face. You’d memorized all of him, from the texture of the scar on his cheek to the lines of his face, the way he tasted and how he tilted his head first to the left and then to the right when he locked lips with you. You grinned into the kiss, pressing your lips harder to his before pulling away with a tiny smile.

“Happy anniversary, dear,” you whispered.

“Happy anniversary,” Howzer reciprocated with a serene smile.

“So,” you raised a brow at him. “Wanna tell me what you have back there?”

The clumsiness returned momentarily to Howzer as he stammered on his words. “Oh, r-right. Um…”

Howzer took a deep breath, returning to his regal, captain-like demeanor. He straightened his back and looked at you with confidence and affection, two traits that would have you swooning over him for days.

“I wanted to have a balance today, you know?” Howzer began. “I do want to commemorate this day three years ago under that oak tree when you said yes to me, but it’s been three years, and as much as I hold the past very close, I also want to acknowledge the fact that you and I, well… we have a future. We have a path to move forward in, and… hence the new place. But… well, maybe putting it that way, it’s not such a tragedy.”

You tilted your head, confused by his last sentence.

Howzer chuckled. “To have a piece of the day you and I became a couple, I wanted to get you the same blue freesias I got you back then.”

He slowly revealed what he was hiding behind him, and you stared at the bouquet of bright yellow, red, magenta, and light pink freesia flowers. The bouquet was balanced out with smaller white flowers that resembled chamomile, and it was wrapped in cellophane on the outer layer and thin bright pink paper on the inside, tied together with a neat teal bow. Howzer held the bouquet out to you, smiling charmingly at you, and for a moment, he resembled a prince declaring his love to you for the first time all over again.

You chuckled at him, dazed. “Let me guess. All the flower shops were out of the blue freesia flowers.”

“It’s uncanny how I was unable to find any today. It’s like they plotted to ridicule me,” Howzer agreed, but now he raised a brow at you. “How did you know?”

You giggled, your cheeks flushing with heat. With the best of timings, you spotted the florist walking up behind Howzer, and your gaze regrouped with that of your lover.

“Well, you’re not the only one who remembers vivid blue flowers that day,” you said, slowly walking up to him and kissing his cheek, letting your voice lower into a whisper as you told him, “close your eyes.”

Happily, Howzer obeyed. You skipped past him and went over to the florist, mouthing the words “Thank you” as you took the bouquet from her and took your position in front of Howzer again. You held the bouquet in front of your chest and smiled brightly at Howzer, your eyes sparkling.

“I know about the blue flowers because I wanted to get them for you too,” you said.

Howzer opened his eyes and felt his chest swelling with love at the sight of you holding the bouquet. You’d gotten the flowers in the same colors he had, and the golden motifs didn’t escape him.

“Darling,” Howzer sighed as he took the flowers from you. He chuckled softly, looking you in the eyes. “Well, great minds do think alike.”

“I guess they do,” you beamed.

Howzer set your bouquet down on the blanket next to the one he’d gotten for you. He rested them on your basket of bread and smiled at the way both complement one another, not unlike you did to him. Howzer then took your hands in his and looked you in the eyes, gazing into you with all the tender care he held for you.

“I love you,” he spoke softly.

Your entire chest fluttered, and your eyes glimmered up at Howzer as you blessed him with the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

“I love you too,” you said before leaning in and letting him kiss you.

As you both pulled apart from the kiss, the gleam in your eyes turned excited.

“Now, can I please start eating that cheese?” You proposed.

Howzer laughed. “Help yourself. I’ll pour the wine and get the crackers.”

“No wine, no crackers, no bread,” your hungry side got the better of you. “Only cheese.”

Howzer kissed your cheek, pressing himself firmly into you and smiling into your skin with how much he adored you. You then took a seat on the blanket and grabbed a cube of rich, yellow cheese, plopping it into your mouth. As you savored it, you leaned your head back, taking a deep breath as you enjoyed the peace, the breeze, the whole evening. Hearing as Howzer opened the bottle of wine and poured the two cups, you reached for a grape and smiled, knowing you were in the middle of perfection.

Here’s to more years, you thought as Howzer took a seat next to you, handing you your cup of wine.

You clinked your glasses together, and then you leaned your head on his shoulder, smiling as you gazed into the sunset and enjoyed every second of your time with the man who made your days bright and your years sweet as the scent of freesias.

Thanks so much for reading! If you like this fic, please consider reblogging to support me!

Dividers by saradika-graphics

#cloneflowerficevent #tbb howzer x reader #tbb howzer x you #captain howzer x reader #captain howzer x you #moonstrider writes #captain howzer #tbb howzer #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction

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ireadwithmyears · 4 months ago

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how these clones would be with a visually impaired significant other: part two

part one |visually impaired reader masterlist

Pairings(individually): marshal Commander Fox, commander Wolffe, and captain Howzer/visually impaired reader

warnings: explicit, not very detailed but descriptions of sexual content (18+: minors DNI) implied light bondage (I can’t help it, Wolffe is just like that), implied oral (F receiving) light angst, overprotectiveness, insecurities related to blindness, fluff, hurt/comfort

Word count: 3.7 k

requested by @clonethirstingisreal

thank you so much for the request, and I really hope you like these. If other readers would like to request a specific trooper for these, just send me an ask or a message and I am more than happy to keep going.

note: though the reader is visually impaired, my hope is that you do not need to be visually impaired to enjoy or relate to aspects of these. Also, I am a blind girl working without a beta and admittedly, I only lightly edited these for the sake of my own sanity. So there are probably still going to be mistakes that I didn’t catch, just as a heads up.

❤️Marshall Commander Fox❤️

Fox is both terrified and in awe of your independence and perseverance.

He respects how seamlessly you navigate the world around you, even if he knows that it’s not as seamless as it looks. He admires how unfazed you are by new challenges, even if those challenges are enough to make his eyebrows raise in concern.

You’re telling him about how construction has kind of messed with the usual route you take to work and how you had to take an extra 20 minutes to figure out how to work yourself around it, and you’re talking about it so nonchalantly as if you didn’t get lost like five times, not to mention you had to take several detours down Coruscant’s lower levels to work around it.

Listen, as Marshall commander of the guard, he’s encountered the absolute worst of humanity and criminals, so forgive him if the idea of you wandering around and lost when he knows that those types of people could be around anywhere in your vicinity sends him into a mini heart attack and his protective instincts into overdrive.

And yes, there is an overdrive, and you may have to temper it a little.

This probably would have happened regardless of your blindness. It’s just how he operates. Fox is always on guard, always thinking of potential risks and security issues, and always strives to mitigate them before they actually arise. So, at first, you think nothing of the fact that near the places you frequent, your work, the coffee shop you go to the most, there’s always a guard member stationed in that general vicinity.

But his vode aren’t always good at keeping secrets, and so when one of them accidentally lets it slip that the commander has them Stationed there in particular regard for your personal safety, you are not pleased.

So not pleased that when the other guard members see you marching through headquarters, either your cane incessantly tapping against the floor or your guide dog trotting along your side as you angrily speed walk, they’re immediately wondering what in the name of the force did Fox do to piss you off.

It’s not in your nature to make a scene. But for once, you barge into his office without a second thought, demanding an explanation.

You’re the only one who can storm into his office like this, the only one who, when he looks up and sees you, his glare will immediately soften, not that you take note of that.

He explains that because you’re part of a more vulnerable populace, more likely to be targeted, he had put these precautions in place to try and keep you safe.

This would be the typical over protective, annoying speech if you couldn’t hear the worry and concern, so uncharacteristically unmasked in his voice, and when you cross to his desk, taking one of his hands, you can feel it trembling in your fingers.

This tempers your anger a great deal and when you next speak, it is softer, continuing to hold his hands. “Fox, I love you, and I’m grateful that you’re looking out for me and trying to keep me safe. But, did you think about how that would make me feel?” You ask, and at the lingering silence, you continue. “I have spent my whole life learning how to be independent in spite of the vision that I don’t have. For you to do that, as well-meaning as it was, it makes me feel like I’m nothing more than just a child who can’t go out without supervision.”

You hesitate for a moment, weighing your words before deciding to speak them.

“When you look at me, i is that what you see? Just someone you need to worry about all the time?” You ask.

He’s shaking his head before you even finish that sentence, swallowing heavily before his hands tighten around yours, drawing them close. It’s his turn to weigh his words. It’s a skill that as a clone, as someone who was raised to believe that his thoughts and opinions shouldn’t hold weight, it takes him some time, because he needs these words to hold true, for you to feel them as heavily as he speaks them.

“No, cyar,” he says, voice low and swallowing heavily. “From the first moment I met you, your unwavering resilience. Your quiet confidence and independence is so, so beautiful.” He pauses, taking the time to turn your hands over in his, kissing the back of your knuckles with a downcast expression in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, meshla. I can see how my actions would make you feel like I don’t trust you, which is far from the case. I know that you are so, so capable.” he leans across the desk, pressing his forehead against yours as his voice drops to an almost timid whisper. “But I’m still going to worry.”

“I know you are,” you say softly, mirth entering your voice when you next speak. “I would expect nothing less from my overprotective commander,” you smirk. “So, let’s compromise.”

The compromising comes much later, because first, Fox feels that he must apologize to you more deeply, more eloquently than his words will allow.

This apology consists of him lying you across his desk, burying his face between your legs, and worshipping you with his mouth, which to you, is more than acceptable, and by the time he’s finished, you’re so blissed out that you can’t even remember what the two of you were talking about in the first place or why you were mad at him.

The second part of this apology comes into play with a trust exercise that you suggested. It involves Fox putting on a blindfold and letting you guide him through levels of Coruscant and crossing some of its more populated streets.

He’ll never admit that it scares the shit out of him, but every time you’re crossing a street with him holding your elbow, you can feel his hand tightening around your arm and you can tell that he is. You take him to a much more residential street, show him how you use your ears to determine the flow of traffic, and then ask if he wants to try it, with reassurance and a kiss on the cheek to let him know that you’ll stop him if he makes the wrong call so that he doesn’t get hit by a speeder.

Unsettled by that last remark, but never one to back down from a challenge, he does, and the day ends with him being even more in awe of you, but feeling a sense of nuanced understanding that he didn’t have before, which he both appreciates, and finds settles him a little.

Your part of the compromise is that he gives you a device that can send your location and track you in case of emergencies. If you get into trouble, you hit a button, and he’ll be notified of where you are, and if you move. This data will also be shared with several other trusted members of the guard, namely Thorn and Hound, so that the nearest guard to your position can get to you quickly if needed.

You also ask that Fox teaches you self-defence training, recognizing that both his military prowess and hand to hand expertise would really help you feel more secure in being able to protect yourself. He is more than happy to do so, and, in spite of his worry that he won’t be good at teaching you the proper technique, he finds that it comes naturally. He loves getting to see your confidence channelled into a feisty, fighting side.

And well, if the lessons get somewhat sidetracked once he’s got you pinned to the training mats with your wrists above your head because you just look so damn irresistible, can you really blame him?

At the end of the day, Fox will always be protective of you. But he finds different, and much more satisfying ways, to channel it.

Being Marshall commander of the Coruscant guard affords him certain privileges and loopholes, which he takes full advantage of when it comes to you.

Meaning that that bakery employee who ranted at you for asking if something was available because “do you see it in the window? No, so clearly, it’s out of stock,” suddenly finds herself without a job.

That Uber driver who refused to take you and your guide dog because he didn’t want to deal with dog hair in the back of his car suddenly finds that his license has been suspended indefinitely.

He doesn’t bother you by telling you about any of this, knowing that you would feel bad, but also knowing that you probably wouldn’t be surprised.

What can he say, his sense of spite and drive to seek vengeance towards anyone who has wronged or hurt you is how he best shows his devotion and love.

🩶Commander Wolffe🩶

Wolffe was not aware that his default tone was grumpy all the time.

Well, okay, maybe that was a stretch. Maybe he was aware of it in the back of his mind and maybe he never bothered doing anything about it because well, as a commander, it was useful.

It helps to be able to correct the behaviour of a few rowdy shinys by just barking one singular word at them to get them to stop. Or just to get all of his men to listen and pay attention to him. That tone attracts their ears and their eyes up to him without question, and he likes that.

Regardless of how grumpy he may sound or look, he knows that they know that he cares about all of his vode, whether they’re just pups who haven’t earned their paint, or their longtime members of the pack. He displays his care in his actions towards them.

He’s realizing, though, that this approach doesn’t work for you as smoothly.

He notices because sometimes, just in the smallest flicker of a moment, when he says something to you, something inconsequential, words that fall past his lips without being conscientious of the tone that they’re delivered in, you jump, you sometimes look up a little too quickly, a wary expression flashing across your face before it’s immediately stamped out and you relax again, as if it were never there to begin with. But Wolffe is observant, and he notices.

And he does not like it in the slightest.

He begins to understand that not being able to use your eyes to see how others communicate with you, not Being able to read their Body language makes you very perceptive and sensitive to the tone of their voices, and how even the slightest hint of frustration, even if it’s not directed your way, makes you tense up or flinch, eyes scanning the room for a quick exit Just in case.

He realizes that not being able to read the expression on his face, see the soft look in his eyes or the so rare upward turn of his lips every time he looks at you, makes you very reliant on both the words he says, and the tone he delivers them in.

He thinks that it’s going to be hard to tune back his natural grumpiness, but in reality, every time he looks at you, he feels like he’s seeing the first glimpse of sunshine through clouds, and he finds that It’s not that hard at all.

Wolffe is still Wolffe. Still gruff and stoic with that seamless authority that drew you to him so easily.

But his voice softens, loses its biting edge whenever he speaks to you. It takes effort at first, having to constantly remind himself to weigh the way he speaks. But after a while, Watching how your shoulders, instead of instinctively tensing, seem to soften and relax whenever you hear the sound of his voice, it becomes second nature to him.

If he is frustrated, needing to vent to you about something, he will always take the time to reassure you when his tone shifts, because he knows that even if it’s not Directed at you, he can still frighten you with how gruff and irritable he can sound when he’s annoyed about something. Wrapping his arms around you from behind, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before murmuring softly in your ear, “s all okay, cyar’ika, i’m not upset with you.” His hands will softly caress up and down your arms, your sides, until he feels you soften against him, and when he continues, he will be careful to make sure his tone remains measured.

he trusts you, your independence and your abilities. However, if you are walking home when it’s dark outside, he insists that you call him as you go.

This ends up being a thing that reassures you both, because regardless of if you have any vision or not, walking home at night is immediately unsettling, and if you’re anything like me, the slightest noise can immediately have you on edge and thinking that someone is about to sneak up on you.

Wolffe can always tell, regardless of if you tell him or not. He can hear the hitch in your breath, the sudden tightness in your voice and he’s always there to encourage you and make you feel safe until you get home.

“You’re safe, cyar, i’m here. Take a deep breath, and keep that head up,” he speaks, voice both soft and an order into the COM device. “Act confident, even if you don’t feel it, and you’ll be home and in my arms before you know it.”

It’s always true, and your heart always stops racing the second he’s holding you, a silent, strong presence that always makes you feel safe and protected.

If you rely on public transit like ridesharing apps, and your driver happens to either be lazy or not good at following directions because suddenly you’re dropped off on the wrong side of the street, which you didn’t realize until you got out of the car, your commander is on speed dial.

Wolffe keeps you calm with his steady, reassuring voice, encouraging you to turn on your devices camera so that he can effectively guide you to where you need to go with verbal directions.

If you’re a blind person who gets insecure or self-conscious about how your eyes look different, Wolffe can sympathize.

He knows from experience with his own cybernetic that trying to change your view of how you think of them, trying to make you believe that they’re beautiful when you don’t feel like they are, is counterproductive.

Instead, he’ll remind you of all of the things he finds beautiful about you, all of the things he loves. And if words still don’t cut it, well...

You might just find yourself tied to the bed you both share, all spread out and bare for him, unable to do anything except let him touch, kiss, worship and praise each part of your body, while also leaving a collection of bite marks behind that contrast beautifully against your skin, and if you have any vision left, will be able to see. He pays special attention to places like your inner thighs, knowing that you’ll be able to look down and easily find his claims and promises later.

And because he’s Wolffe, and Wolffe is a teasing asshole to his core, if he’s feeling particularly annoyed with how little regard you view yourself, he might just edge you, over and over, only allowing you to come once you agree with him that you’re beautiful, which doesn’t take long for the words to come, but he does drag it out, only relenting when he actually believes the sincerity of them.

In much more innocent bedtime activities, if you have a guide dog, who also shares your bed, Wolffe becomes a jealous bastard.

He wants your cuddles to be exclusively his for the taking, and having to share with someone else simply is not fair and he will always grumble irritably About it.

You don’t worry about it too much, because whenever he thinks you’re not in earshot, he’ll give your guide dog a grudging pet and mutter a quiet “it’s a good thing you’re cute, and you keep her safe.”

Because that’s Wolffe. Impenetrable steel and seemingly implacable yet with a soft, tender warmth beneath it all that isn’t actually that hard to get to, if you earn his heart, and that’s exactly why you love him.

🩵Captain Howzer🩵

I think Howzer is a gentleman, like, golden retriever energy in the best way possible.

So naturally, with this golden retriever energy, he is very affectionate towards you, which you love. But, here’s the thing, when you’re blind, there are these little hiccoughs in the road depending on how much vision you have and yes, just in case I haven’t made this clear enough, blindness is a spectrum.

For example, you love to kiss him, and you want to kiss him. But sometimes, initiating that can be not the most seamless, or romantic, if you have limited vision. Sometimes aiming for his lips isn’t as straight of a line as you think it is, which leads to aimless searching, making you feel embarrassed.

He picks up on it, pretty quickly. But, reading that it makes you embarrassed/discomforted just by the look on your face, he never brings it up, at least not verbally. He’ll just take silent note that you’re wanting to kiss him, gently take your chin in his hand, and guide your lips to meet his, the expression in his eyes incredibly soft and filled with adoration.

And, as he pulls away, he can see that your lips are about to form an apology or an embarrassed remark, so his thumb caresses over them instead, leaning forward again to whisper a soft “your beautiful,” in your ear, that leaves you shivering and forgetting all about your fumble.

Another result of his golden retriever energy is the fact that sometimes, he literally becomes a human guide dog.

He’s always keeping an eye out as you walk for potential obstacles in the way, outdoor patios in the middle of sidewalks, steep upward curbs, always ready to offer an arm, especially if you’re going down a set of stairs that doesn’t have a railing.

You don’t say anything, but he sees the small smile on your face, the way you always seem to be one step ahead, and out of the blue, he asks “am I helping too much?” Because he’s fully aware of his tendencies.

“A little,” you concede with a small grin as you look up at him. “I let you because it’s so cute when you do it.”

Then you take his hand, and you show him how you navigate the world around you, whether it’s by feeling the way your cane taps against the curb, running along its edge to gauge how big it is, how it feels the obstacles around you so that you can maneuver around them. Or how your guide dog will stop walking and place it’s front paws on top of the street curb or staircase to show you that it’s there, and how you work as a team to find the safest way to maneuver around obstacles.

He’s very attentive as you show him, adoring even this glimpse of getting to see the world through your point of view and how you move through it. He asks for you to please, please tell him if he’s ever being over bearing in the name of trying to be helpful, because he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s ever doubting you or weighing you down.

He’s also very mindful of the things you can’t see in regards to your person when you’re out on a date. Like, if you’ve got a piece of lint or dog hair, usually in my case, on your clothes, he’s reaching over and gently picking it off, usually lingering for a kiss to your cheek and a soft “I’ve got you covered, cyar. You look lovely.”

If you’re wearing make up, recognizing that it takes more effort and hard work for you to do that, he becomes the king of reapplying it on the go just to make sure you’re always feeling good about yourself.

You might’ve gone out for dinner and all your lipstick has come off after eating. No problem, he’ll reapply it with a precise, light hand. You went and saw a holofilm that made you cry all your mascara off. He might lightly tease you for that, not that he’s really complaining because he got to hold you while you pressed your face against his chest, but he’ll also carefully reapply it, a very focussed expression on his face as he’s always just a little bit worried when he gets near your eyes with anything.

And, it’s surprising, how good he is at it. How he seems to know what he’s doing. He’ll never tell, but he secretly watched tutorials so that he could learn, out of genuine fascination and because he wanted to be more helpful to you.

Now, if you regularly wear make up, he’s the person you go to to spot check you in the morning, making sure that everything looks good and helping you clean up anything that might look out of place.

Regardless, Howzer is your number one hype ma’am, always finding something new to complement about you unprompted. How cute you look in that top, how the colour of that one sweater brings out your eyes, how soft your hair is when he strokes it.

Howzer also quickly picks up on the fact that sometimes, if he touches you unexpectedly, you startle, before recognizing it’s him and settling again.

That simply will not do, so now, if you’re sitting beside him and he wants to place a hand over your thigh, he’ll reach out, but leave it hovering just above until your eyes flash with recognition and slowly, gently, settling it there, leaving you able to anticipate or pull away if the touch is not wanted.

If he comes home to you and catches you by surprise, it’s rare but happens sometimes, he’ll come up behind you, gently place his hands on your shoulders with a Quiet “just me, love,” waiting until they relax beneath his palms before he’ll fully wrap his arms around you, nuzzling his face against your neck, breathing you in.

That’s your captain. He’s observant, he’s deliberate in everything he does, and he’s captivated your heart, which he will take the upmost care of, holding onto it as tightly as he holds onto you.

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vodika-vibes · 8 months ago

Note

Hi there, can I please have the smutty reactions of Howzer, Sev and Thire (headcannons, a blurb or short scenario, whatever strikes your fancy) when their female s/o (who is normally very quiet and reserved in bed) moans for the first time during sex?

Let Me Hear You

Pairings: Captain Howzer x F!Reader, Clone Commando Sev x F!Reader, Commander Thire x F!Reader

Word Count (Total): 1141

Warnings: Smut

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So Howzer's and Thire's are both longer than Sev's, I think. Bus Sev was fighting me on this. And I have a soft spot for the Corries. Also, the writing style might be a little different than I normally write, so I'd like any feedback on that.

Captain Howzer x F!Reader

Howzer is used to his cyare being quiet. She’s just a quiet and reserved person by nature, and that trait of hers remains, even when he’s doing his best to help her see stars with his fingers of mouth or cock…

Well, frankly it’s adorable.

Maybe he teases her, just a little, but she just ducks her head and her face heats and how is he supposed to do anything other than kiss her senseless and take her continued silence as anything other than a challenge?

So today, today he’s doing something different.

A different position, a different intensity, a different everything.

She’s perched on his lap, and he’s buried deep inside her (it feels like home, like a homecoming, he loves her so kriffing much-), and his hands are everywhere.

Why he’s never used this position before is beyond him. He can feel everything. The way her breath hitches when he lifts her and brings her back down, the way her legs muscles twitch when he thrusts up in just the right way-

He was clearly suffering from some form of madness to never consider this position before. Poor past Howzer. He had no idea what he was missing out on.

Howzer drags his hands over her thighs, intentionally leaving marks on her neck, high enough that they’ll be seen. Yes, he is a possessive asshole, thank you.

He adjusts her ever so slightly and thrusts up into her, hard.

A soft cry slips from his cyare’s lips, and Howzer stills, his heart swelling with so much affection that he thinks he’s about to explode.

Slowly he drags his hand up her spine, until it rests at the back of her neck, and he carefully adjusts his grip until he’s able to direct where her gaze is focused.

And once her gaze is locked on his face, he repeats the motion. The same power behind the thrust, the same intensity.

A grin cracks his face when a second, quiet but still audible, moan falls from her lips. Her face burns when she realizes what she did, and she presses her face against his neck.

“Oh, no cyar’ika,” Howzer coos, pulling her back, “Look at me baby. Let me hear you.”

And then he crashes his lips against hers.

Victory. Now he just needs to get her to be louder.

Sounds like fun.

Clone Commando Sev x F!Reader

“You’re so quiet, Princess.” Sev has a small grin on his face as he lays over his beautiful girlfriend. Her face is flushed and her chest is heaving.

To be fair, he had just spent the last hour or so pushing her from orgasm to orgasm. And yet, no noise.

He’d be disappointed if he didn’t know that his pretty princess was just quiet by nature.

Sev’s grin grows as he drops several heavy kisses against her jaw and down her neck.

“Let’s see,” He muses, almost to himself, though he’s talking to her, “We’ve tried missionary, and you’re quiet that way.”

She pouts at him, and he grins as he drops a kiss to her lips.

“Maybe I should ask Fixer for that sex manual,” He muses, “I’m sure there’s plenty of positions in there that will make you scream for me.”

She whines, quietly, and presses her hands over her face, and Sev laughs before he pins her hands to the bed, “None of that, princess. I want to see your pretty eyes.” He gently strokes her cheek, and she smiles up at him.

Sev keeps his gaze locked with hers as he slowly eases inside her, he never likes to rush, not with her.

Her hand comes up and pushes through his hair, and Sev quickly grabs her wrist and pins both of them over her head to the bed.

And it’s that action that pulls a quiet moan from her lips.

They both freeze. Sev has a look of sheer delight on his face, while she looks incredibly flustered.

“Aww…my princess wants to be tied up?” Sev asks as he tightens his grip around her wrists, “Why didn’t you say so? I’d be more than happy to.”

This time, when he snaps his hips to meet hers, he makes sure that she can’t move away, and he’s rewarded with a slightly louder cry of pleasure. And his grin grows.

Commander Thire x F!Reader

Thire has never been so glad in his life to have a private office. And that his office has a door that locks, unlike Fox’s office.

Why?

Well that would be because his perfect, wonderful, amazing mesh’la is currently spread across his desk, totally naked, with his cock balls deep inside her. That’s why.

Look, he can’t help himself.

He sees his mesh’la standing there, looking oh so tempting in that red dress, with her hair pulled off of her neck, practically begging for him to leave his marks all over the tender skin there.

And sure, maybe she had been talking to Stone. And yeah, maybe it was important.

But he’s only a man, and how is he supposed to keep his hands off her?

His hands slide across her chest, lightly caressing her breasts, before gliding back down to her hips and squeezing tightly.

He’s also lucky that she’s not a loud woman. If she was, he’d never get away with this, and then Fox would kill him, so it wouldn’t matter in the long run.

“It's your own fault, you know.” Thire gasps as he hooks one of her legs around his waist, while his hand glides down the other leg, caressing, “You came here, dressed like that, it’s like you were asking for me to steal you away.”

Her laugh is soft, and slightly breathless, “Maybe I was.”

Thire groans, “You’re the worst.” He leans in and kisses her deeply, “Lucky you’re so quiet. If Fox ever caught us, he’d kill me and then you.”

He pulls out, and flips her, pulling a startled squeak from her. Thire bends her over his desk, and uses his foot to spread her legs for him, and he quickly thrusts back in.

The softest moan slips from her lips, and she immediately clamps her hand over her mouth, “...sorry.”

“Kriff, okay. Note to self, next time I want to make you scream, bend you over the kitchen table.” Thire says with a breathless laugh, before he slides his hands up her side and to her mouth, “You want me to cover your mouth or you wanna suck on my fingers? Take your pick, love.”

When she wraps her pretty lips around his fingers he has to bury his face in her neck to muffle his own groan.

Yeah, Fox is definitely going to kill them.

But so long as they’re both able to finish, it’ll be worth it.

#star wars #tcw #tbb #captain howzer x reader #clone commando sev x reader #commander thire x reader #18+ fic #clone thirsting #nsft #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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meshla-cyarika · 7 months ago

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just gonna leave this here

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coffeeandbatboys · 6 months ago

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Fluff=🍭

Hurt/Comfort=🌧️

Heavy Angst/Hurt/Comfort=⛈️

Mild spice, sfw=🌶️

Mild concerning stuff (creeps, etc.)=⚠️

Reblogs are appreciated!!

Can’t Take My Eyes Off You—Rex x Fem!reader for @eternal-transcience 🍭

At Last—Howzer x Wife!Reader for @trixie2023 🍭

Can't Take My Eyes Off You—Fives x Fem!Reader for @moonydainty 🍭

Love Will Keep Us Alive—Rex x Fem!Reader for @smw-on-kamino 🍭🌧️

Love Will Keep us Together—Rex x Reader for @masterjedilenaaa 🍭🌶️

Uptown Girl—Jesse x Fem!Reader for @sees-writes 🍭⚠️

Right Here Waiting—Wolffe x Fiancée!Reader) for @high-ct5555 ⛈️

Right Here Waiting—Fives x Reader for @snarkyfina 🍭

Kiss an Angel Good Morning—Wolffe x Reader for @clonethirstingisreal ⛈️🌶️

Come Monday—Mayday x Reader for @sunshinesdaydream 🍭

Uptown Girl—Howzer x Fem!Reader for @annoyingstudenthideout 🍭

Lovefool—Jesse x Fem!Reader for @moonlightwarriorqueen 🌧️🍭

Angel Of The Morning—Howzer x Reader for @trixie2023 🍭🌶️

#star wars #coffee’s 300 follower celebration #arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper jesse x reader #captain rex x reader #captain Howzer x reader #commander wolffe x reader #commander mayday x reader

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vizslasaber · 6 months ago

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VIZSLASABER’S MASTERLIST ──── tumblr writing.

Last updated | May 16, 2024

☾ = angst | ☀︎ = fluff | ♡ = suggestive themes | ✦ = smut/18+ | ☁︎ = graphic descriptions

Taglist | Navigation | AO3

All graphics & fics are by me. Please do not steal or claim as your own.

──── CLONE / READER FICS.

──── CAPTAIN REX / READER.

☾ ☀︎ ☁︎ SERIES | friendly fire | WIP, 2/?

SUMMARY | Newly knighted and unaccustomed to combat, you’re suddenly given your first assignment on the shadowy world of Umbara. Waiting on the planet’s surface is the start of a mission filled with death and deception—and the companionship of someone whose smile you never thought you’d fall for.

☀︎✦ COMING SOON | like real people do

SUMMARY | Rex comes home, safe and sound. It’s all you ever asked for.

──── COMMANDER WOLFFE / READER.

☀︎ ☁︎ COMING SOON | an eye for an eye

SUMMARY | You wonder, on the bad days, if the war will cause too much hurt for you to heal. A new patient in the Halls of Healing proves you wrong.

──── ARC TROOPER ECHO / READER.

☾ ☀︎ ONESHOT | understanding

SUMMARY | In the middle of the night, Echo finds you, hurt and exhausted and in need of an apology.

──── ARC TROOPER FIVES / READER.

COMING SOON!

──── SERGEANT HUNTER / READER.

COMING SOON!

──── CAPTAIN HOWZER / READER.

COMING SOON!

──── JEDI / READER FICS.

──── OBI-WAN KENOBI / READER.

☀︎ COMING SOON | to pass the time

SUMMARY | You’re a pilot for Queen Amidala’s ship that’s bound for Coruscant, but your skills aren’t any good without a hyperdrive. Luckily, there’s someone to keep you company while you wait for Master Jinn to return.

──── CANON X OC FICS.

☾ ☀︎ ♡ COMING SOON | lighthouse

SUMMARY | Coruscant, with its seemingly infinite levels and endless types of diverse characters, is the galaxy’s best hiding place. Rex, a man with a face identical to that of millions, stands out in his own right—especially now that the war is over. So does Vega Knoxyn, the sarcastic and striking manager of 79s, but even in a time of peace, she only seems to want to hide. Unfortunately for Vega, who came to Coruscant to disappear, Rex’s unceasing curiosity about her only starts to grow once they meet.

#vzs masterlist #clone trooper x reader #captain rex x reader #commander wolffe x reader #tbb echo x reader #arc trooper echo x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #tbb hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #captain howzer x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #cal kestis x reader

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mandos-mind-trick · 1 year ago

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See You In My Sleep

Summary: After months of silence, your soulmate reappears in your dream space desperate for help. You're desperate to save him, but you're just a bakery owner from Coruscant.

Pairing: Howzer x reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, soulmate AU, PTSD, nightmares, fluff, angst.

A/N: Man, I've been rather long winded with my fics lately. This one has taken the cake (lol) for the longest soulmate fic to date. I'm terrified of posting this once as I've never written for Howzer before, but I hope I did him justice.

MASTERLIST

It’s been months.

You haven’t spoken to your soulmate in months.

It wasn’t that unusual for you to go periods of time without speaking to him, but those only lasted days, at the most a couple weeks. Months, though? That was unheard of.

It makes you worry.

You know things have been happening, things that aren’t quite right. The sudden change from the Republic to the Empire with the end of the war was enough to have anyone paying attention raising an eyebrow. With your soulmate’s direct involvement, it only has you questioning things more.

You know things, things most people don’t, about the Empire and its agenda. You’ve heard things that have been happening, things your soulmate has taken part in. Things he’d been questioning lately.

You hope he’s alright.

You share a dream space with your soulmate. When you’re both asleep at the same time, you can slip into a shared dream that allows you to see and speak with each other. Sometimes you can even share images with each other. Places, things, events.

You can tell when it’s going to happen. Instead of drifting off like normal, it feels almost like you’re leaving your body, ascending into some higher plane. The world goes white for a moment before you’re there, standing together. You can’t touch, but you can get close enough to see the details of each other’s faces.

The first time it happened, it took you by surprise. You hadn’t understood it at first, and most of what you saw were blurry, indistinguishable shapes around you. It had felt very cold and uninviting, even despite the fact you couldn’t make out what you were seeing.

You always felt well rested upon waking, despite not feeling like you had slept at all.

You had brushed it off as exhaustion, stress, some strange vivid dream. You had tried not to think about it too much, until it happened a second time.

Once again, it had all been blurry shapes moving around in that cold, sterile place. You had entertained insanity for a moment upon waking, but you didn’t feel crazy. You felt well rested and almost comforted by the strange experience.

It didn’t happen every night. You sometimes went a week or two without the strange floating and white place. As time went on, the images began to shift. They became a bit clearer, though you still couldn't understand what you were seeing. There was nothing indicative of a place or people or anything that looked familiar to you. It was more like looking into an abstract piece of art.

As the years passed, things became a bit clearer. Images became things you could recognize, though you didn’t always understand what they meant.

It was a couple years before the war started that you met him for the first time.

He seemed equally confused by his appearance in your dream. It didn't feel quite right. He seemed too aware for a dream, too real. He was young, just barely having reached adulthood, you would later figure out. He had told you he was a clone and was training for war.

You thought it ridiculous. The galaxy wasn’t at war. You knew galactic relations were getting to be tense. Living on Coruscant gave you a front row seat to the drama of the Senate. But to think it would come to war...that was far fetched.

It was only after a handful of interactions with Howzer that you figured out what was going on. You had done a bit of research on your strange dreams and had come to the conclusion it was your soulmate link, and Howzer was your soulmate.

When you told him during your next meeting, he had been upset. He told you about their rules regarding soulmates, but that most of them didn’t agree with it. He didn’t want to reject you, but he had to be careful. Thankfully, your shared dream space was easy to hide.

He grew quickly, a product of his enhancements as a clone. He spoke a lot about his training, about his fellow clones. The idea made you uneasy, especially with war nowhere in sight at least that you could tell, but there wasn’t much you could do. Even if you knew where he was, going to see him was not an option.

You weren’t supposed to know about his existence.

Not that you were going to tell anyone. You had no one to tell.

You’re just a humble bakery owner who lived among the trillions on Coruscant.

He liked to talk about you, about your life on Coruscant. He liked to hear about the outside world, about the goings on of everyday people. It made you a bit sad, that his entire life had been created for one purpose, for a war that might never come.

The war does come.

Your visits with Howzer become rarer as he ships out. You still manage to see each other, but you can tell as the war progresses how much it begins to weigh on him. You can see the dark circles, the exhaustion in his face as he joins you in your shared dream space. He talks a lot about the battles and losing men, his own brothers. You give him the space to unload it all, your own tears falling as you listen to the pain in his voice, sharing his sadness.

He has his own close calls. You’re there for the formation of every scar, every blemish. You worry about him, relishing every second you have with him.

He likes to hear about your life, which remained relatively unchanged, even with the war. If anything changed, it was the influx of customers at your bakery. You saw plenty of senate aides, and even the occasional Coruscant Guard.

When the war ends, you don’t hear from him for a couple weeks. You’re not surprised, given how rapidly everything seems to change. You only get him back for a few weeks, though, before he disappears.

You often played over that last dream in your head as you waited and waited for his reappearance. You’ve tried everything you can think of to reconnect, even taking time off from your bakery to spend as much time as possible asleep in hopes you catch him, even for a moment.

Yet he remains absent.

So you continued on, pouring your worry into your work. You try not to think about it, but you can’t help it. You’ve begun to feel the yearning, the need to see him, hear him once more. Even if it’s just to make sure he’s alright. You want to see those deep, soulful eyes just one more time.

Even if the next dream that comes is a rejection.

***

It finally happens one night, when you’re least expecting it.

You were dozing off while watching a holofilm. You had an early morning, yet you were up late trying to relax. You were beginning to get anxious, itching under your skin in your need for Howzer.

It happens suddenly, your body floating before you’re surrounded by a familiar white glow. You nearly cry as you find yourself standing before him.

“Howzer.” You breathe his name in relief, a weight being lifted from your shoulders almost instantly.

He says your name, a tear sliding down your cheek. How you want to touch him, feel him, ensure he’s really here. You know though, deep in your bones. It’s really him. He’s really here.

He looks tired. There’s dark circles around his eyes, and his face seems thinner than normal.

“Howzer,” You breathe, staring at him with teary eyes. “What happened?”

“I don’t have a lot of time.” He says, and you can see the desperation on his face. “I was arrested by the Empire with some of my men. I’m not sure where we are, but there’s other clones here. Some of them have disappeared. Others are being moved.” He looks guilty. “I had to close off the connection to protect you. If they found out...you would have been in danger.”

You nod, a lump forming in your throat for a different reason. The relief you had felt is slowly ebbing away, replaced by anxiety. By fear. “Have you been able to see anything at all? Maybe...maybe I can try and find it. Or find someone that can help.”

He closes his eyes, the white space around you shifting, showing you a few images of things he had seen. It’s not much to go off of, but it’s something.

“Be careful.” He says. “Don’t try anything stupid.”

“What, like trying to invade an Imperial fortress with nothing but a whisk?” You crack the joke, but it lacks the normal light tone you would have used.

You can see the softening of his gaze, but his face doesn’t move. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to do this again.” If he’ll be able to do it again.

The reality of his situation is hitting you hard. He’s at the mercy of the Empire now. He has been for months. He’d cut off his contact with you to try and protect you, even though you know how badly you’ve both been suffering.

“Soon.” You say, determined. “I’m going to do everything I can to find you.”

He lifts his hand, almost like he wants to touch you, but he can’t. “Be careful.”

You want to say it back, but the dream fades before you can.

You wake alone on the couch, the image of his eyes painted at the front of your mind.

***

Your hands shake as you try to frost the cake in front of you. The shop will be opening in less than an hour, and you were behind on orders already. You can hardly focus, the dream with Howzer still fresh in your mind. He’s in trouble, he’s been in trouble this whole time. The fearful thoughts you had tried to suppress are coming back full force, threatening to spill over.

You put down your piping bag, taking a deep breath. You need to work. Going home will only make things worse. You’ll have nothing to do there but sit and worry all day. At least this will be a distraction.

You spot movement at the door, your one employee, Mina, arriving for her shift. You’ve known Mina since you were kids and would trust her with your life. You let her in, rubbing your eyes.

“You look like a bantha ran you over.” She says, dropping her things behind the counter.

You crack a small smile, but you’re certain it looks more like a grimace. “Just stressed.”

“Busy day?” She asks, pulling her apron on.

“Already behind.” You answer.

She stares at you for a few moments as you wash your hands. You try to ignore her as you grab the piping bag once more. “Well, whatever it is, you worry about the cakes. I’ll handle the customers.”

She goes about setting up the lobby, allowing you the chance to try and get caught up with your cake orders. It was like half the people on Coruscant were all celebrating something today.

Mina turns on the holoTV, the end of a news broadcast popping up. The anchor’s going on about Senator Chuchi and her bold fight for clone rights despite having the majority of the Senate against her. The broadcast is saying less than favorable things about her, but you ignore it. Ever since the Empire took over, the news had become almost unbearable. Between fluff pieces and outright slander, it had become more of a coverup for things they didn’t want citizens finding out than actual news.

You pause for a moment, something flashing through your mind.

Senator Chuchi was very outspoken in her support of the clones. You have a clone that desperately needs help. If you could get Senator Chuchi to help, maybe you could find Howzer. But how would you get her to help? You couldn’t just walk into the Senate building and ask to see her. You’d have to give your reasoning for being there and that would put you on the Empire’s radar, or worse, get you arrested too.

Not to mention, you have no proof except your own words. You had tried to search for anything that might look like what Howzer showed you, but you had turned up empty handed. That was partially why you were behind this morning.

But, a Senator would have more resources to investigate. Access to information it seemed the Empire didn’t want citizens to have.

You turn to look at Mina, setting down the piping bag once more. “Mina? Your sister still works as an aide, right?”

Mina pauses where she had been setting up chairs, looking at you. “Yeah, why?”

“I-I need some help.” You say.

Mina didn’t know much of anything about your soulmate. It wasn’t so much that you didn’t trust her, but more that you weren’t sure how to approach the subject. Mina had met her soulmate not long after you both graduated school. She was a sweet Twi’lek who worked as an event planner. You’ve collaborated several times before in the past. Mina would understand your desperation, maybe enough to convince her sister to help you.

You take a deep breath. “I need to speak with Senator Chuchi. It’s about a group of clones.”

Mina frowns. “What are you doing getting involved with clones?”

You should tell her. If you can get Howzer help, if he gets rescued, you’d like to bring him here. You’d like to have him in your life. She’s going to see him eventually. She’ll have to know eventually.

You step out from behind the counter, pulling her back into the kitchen. You stand close to her, speaking quietly. It was unlikely anyone would overhear you with the door still locked, but you couldn’t be too careful. Not in this situation.

“I need you to promise you won’t breathe a word of what I’m about to tell you to anyone. Even your sister.” You say.

She stares into your eyes for a moment before she nods. “I promise.”

“I’m trusting you with this. If any of this gets out, it will take down both of us.”

She gulps, but nods. You take a deep breath, planning out what and how you’re going to tell her this.

“My soulmate is a clone,” You begin, her eyes widening at your words. “We share a dream connection. I didn’t hear from him for months, but last night he contacted me. He was arrested a few months ago by the Empire. I think he’s in trouble. I have to help him, but I don’t even know where he is.”

Mina stares at you in silence for a few moments, processing your words. It’s a lot, not to mention it’s dangerous what you’re saying. Howzer would be in deeper trouble if the wrong person found out about your connection, not to mention you would be in a lot of trouble.

You don’t want to be on the Empire’s radar.

“You think Senator Chuchi might be able to help?” Mina asks.

“I have to try.” You say. “I have to do everything I can.”

Mina’s silent for a few more moments before she sighs. “I can ask Shera when she comes in to meet with us later when she has time.”

Tears fill your eyes as you nod. “Thank you, Mina.”

She nods. “Just...if you get caught, pretend you don’t know me.”

You laugh. “Of course. You’re just my employee after all.”

***

“I had to pull a lot of strings, but she agreed to see you.” Shera says as soon as she steps through the door.

Shera was an aide for Senator Organa of Alderaan. She was one of your regulars, and not just because her sister was your single employee. You liked to think she was the reason you got so many Senate aides in your shop in the morning.

When you spoke to her, you hadn’t given much detail aside from needing to speak to Senator Chuchi about something relating to clones, and with a promise of free pastries and cakes from your bakery for life, she had agreed.

You breathe a sigh of relief at her words. You’ve got a long way to go, but at least this was a foot in the door. A chance to try and help Howzer. “Thank you. I’m forever indebted to you.”

She smirks. “You’re just lucky I like you. And your cakes are so damn good.”

“I meant it.” You say, pushing a box across the counter. “For life.”

“I will be taking you up on that.” She says, taking the box. “Tomorrow, after you close. She’ll send someone to pick you up.”

You let out a long breath. It’s really happening. “Thank you.”

Shera opens the box, pulling out a pastry and taking a bite. She waves her hand, mumbling with her mouth full as she turns, making her way to the door.

You just have to make it to tomorrow.

***

“Wait here.”

You shift nervously on your feet, half expecting the Coruscant Guard to suddenly appear and arrest you for conspiracy or treason or something. Your hand brushes your pocket where the datastick is safely sitting, making sure it’s still there and hasn’t disappeared into thin air.

You wait anxiously, trying not to look nervous or suspicious. You are nervous. You’ve never spoken to a Senator before, much less about something so sensitive. You don’t have concrete evidence, only Howzer’s word and your meager research. Despite how outspoken you know she is about clones and their rights, she has no reason to believe you.

You wouldn’t blame her if she turned you away.

You had tried not to stare at the clone that had picked you up. Despite his disguise, you know he’s a clone. You’d know that face, those eyes anywhere.

You miss Howzer.

Even though you have yet to meet in person, you miss his face and his voice and his presence. You’re worried for him. You know he’s not dead, you would have felt it if he was, but there could be any number of unimaginable things happening to him right now. Your hand brushes your pocket once more, making sure the datastick is still there, that it hasn’t disappeared into thin air.

Footsteps approach, making your heart flutter. You’re sure you look like the nervous wreck you feel. You take a steadying breath as she appears, flanked by two other clones. She greets you by name, surprising you.

“It’s nice to meet you, Senator Chuchi.” You say. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Of course.” She gives you a small smile. “Shera said you may have some information on clones in need of help.”

You nod, shifting nervously on your feet. You had practiced what you were going to say over and over all day. “My soulmate is a clone and we share a dream space.” You start, telling her the truth in hopes it will help you. “He suddenly stopped contacting me a few months ago and then out of the blue a couple days ago he reappeared. He said he’d been arrested by the Empire and taken prisoner. He wouldn’t go into much detail, but he seemed worried. He said wherever he’s being held, there’s other clones there too. He was able to give me glimpses and I tried to do some research, but every time I tried to dig deeper, the holonet wouldn’t let me.”

Senator Chuchi nods. “The Empire is locking down parts of the holonet. They don’t want civilians accidentally stumbling across something that might give them ideas.”

You frown. All those feelings you’ve been having about the Empire seem to only become more and more validated at every turn. You reach into your pocket, pulling out the datastick. “I managed to narrow it down to a few places. I couldn’t do much else.”

She takes the datastick. “I know someone who might be able to figure out where they are. We’ll do everything we can to rescue them.”

“Thank you.” You say, tears springing to your eyes once more. You had been expecting the worst, and now there’s a glimmer of a chance that Howzer might be found and rescued.

“If they find something, you’ll be the first to know.” She says, giving you a reassuring smile.

You trust her, even though you know next to nothing about her. She could be lying, but the genuine look on her face, and how bravely she fought for clone rights in a Senate that had been against her tells you otherwise.

All you can do is hope your research is enough, and they can find Howzer and the others before something bad happens.

***

A few days pass in tense anticipation. There's still no word from Howzer, and no word from Senator Chuchi either. You know it has to take time, but you want to know faster. Have they been able to find them? Was your research enough? Had you been completely wrong and they had to start from scratch?

You keep yourself busy at the bakery as you had been doing for the last few months. You've waited years for this, for the chance to meet Howzer. You can wait a few days if it means they have a better chance of finding them safely.

You just hope it's not too late.

You were closing up shop, planning to spend your evening worrying and sleeping as you had been doing lately in hopes of hearing from someone, when Senator Chuchi arrived in person at your shop. It was a rare occasion you got an actual Senator in your shop.

"Senator Chuchi," You greet her from behind the counter where you had been boxing up leftover pastries to set out in front of your shop for those from below who roamed the upper levels in search of food or handouts. "How can I help you?"

She approaches the counter, a small smile on her face. "I have good news. They've found him."

You stare at her in shock for a moment, your brain trying to process what you had just heard. You've been waiting days for this, your mind thinking up every situation, every way this could happen. "What?" You ask in disbelief, your brain short-circuiting.

"They're on their way back here as we speak." She says. "Tomorrow when you close, I will have someone meet you to pick you up."

You nod slowly, your brain trying to catch up. "They found him." You say it, almost like you're trying to convince yourself it's real.

She smiles, nodding. "He's on his way here now."

Nerves begin to bubble in your stomach. Though you've spent years speaking to him, seeing him, you're nervous at the prospect of finally getting to see him in person. You know what he looks like, what he sounds like, what his personality is like. Yet, you've never met in person. You've never been able to touch him, to smell him, to really be with him.

Your heart is pounding with nerves and excitement as you see Senator Chuchi out, locking the door behind you. In a matter of hours you'll be going to see Howzer. You never thought this day would come. You never thought it would actually be real.

***

The hours pass by slowly. Despite the busy hours at the bakery, time seems to move in slow motion as you wait for the end of your day. As you wait for the time to come. As you wait for Howzer's arrival. You've been lost in thought all day, fighting nerves and insecurities.

It was ridiculous to think Howzer wouldn't like you. You've seen him, and he's seen you. If he didn't like you, he wouldn't have bothered spending hours upon hours getting to know you, baring his soul to you. If he didn't like you, he would have rejected you like he was supposed to.

You're a little afraid because you know Howzer is different now. You could see the difference in him after months of whatever had happened to him. You’d support him as best you could, even if you couldn’t completely understand.

You’re just worried he might get into his own head.

You’d take him no matter what, simply because it means you’ll finally get to have him with you.

If he wants to.

You try not to think about it. You try not to let your insecurities get in your way as you wait patiently for your escort.

When they finally arrive you feel like your heart may jump right out of your throat. It’s a different clone than the one that had taken you to meet Senator Chuchi the first time. You’re too nervous to speak on the trip to the location, thinking up how this scenario could play out over and over in your head. What are you going to say?

You should have thought of this beforehand.

Your stomach lurches as you land. You stare at the open door of the garage, at the light shining out from inside. Howzer’s in there. He’s in there, and he’s waiting for you. Your hands are shaking, and you’re not entirely sure you’re going to be able to stand.

You have nothing to be afraid of. It’s so irrational, yet you can’t make yourself move. You know you should. You have to. The poor clone that drove you here won’t wait forever.

You’re so close. So close. He’s right there.

“You alright?” The clone that had escorted you asks.

You turn to look at him, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah. Nervous.”

He nods. “I would be too. So I can confidently say, he’s probably just as nervous.” He gives you a small smile. “He didn’t come all this way for nothing.”

He’s right. You’re a bit silly being so nervous. “What’s your name?” You ask.

“Nitro, ma’am.” He says, nodding at you.

“Thank you, Nitro.”

You take a breath before pulling yourself out of the speeder. You steady yourself, trying desperately to push down the butterflies as you make your way into the garage.

Tears spring to your eyes as they spot him. He has his back to you, but you can tell right away. You just know it’s him. Gone are the words you had thought up, the practiced speech you’d thought up on the way over of what you would say, how you would approach him.

“Howzer?” Your voice shakes as you say his name.

His back straightens, body turning slowly to face you. Tears threaten to blur your vision as you see him, just as he looked in your dreams. His brow furrows for a moment as he stares at you before his brows lift in surprise and disbelief. He whispers your name, almost like he’s afraid you might disappear if he speaks it too loudly.

You’re suddenly moving, feet carrying you and before you realize it, you’re standing right in front of him. You stare at his face, every detail, every line that you had spent hours memorizing in your dreams.

His hand slowly lifts, just like it had in your dream. Only, this is real. There’s nothing keeping you from touching each other now. His fingers brush your cheek, the rough pads ghosting across your skin like he’s making sure you’re really real. Sparks erupt under your skin at the touch, the first touch you’ve ever shared.

You close the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him. He tenses for a moment, before he’s wrapping his own arms around you. The tears begin to fall, dampening his shirt as you cry for the months of solitude, the months of suffering he’d endured, the years you’ve both been waiting for this moment. The worry, the fear, the anxiety is melting away as you hold him, feeling him, ensuring he really is real.

You tighten your hold on him, hands grasping his shirt as you hold on for dear life. He’s so warm, his heart thumping under your ear.

“I’ve got you, mesh’la.” He whispers, leaning his head against yours. “I’m right here.”

“Months,” You sob, voice muffled by his shirt. “Months I didn’t hear from you. I thought something had happened...I thought-”

He shushes you, tightening his hold on you. “I’m here now.”

You let yourself relax in his hold, breathing him in. There’s a distinct metallic hint to his clothes, and the faint hint of sweat, but you’re not complaining.

You don’t want to pull away from him. You want to stay here holding onto him forever. Yet, you know you can’t.

You pull back slowly, meeting his gaze once more. His hand brushes your cheek once more, his palm warm against your skin.

“You’re even more beautiful in person.” He says, eyes shining as he stares at you.

Your cheeks heat up, so much he can probably feel it under his hand. You stare into those brown eyes, taking in every inch of him. “So are you.”

The corner of his lips pull up in a grin as your face heats even more. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He doesn’t seem to mind, though.

You lift your hand, pressing it against his where it’s still resting on your cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

His thumb gently strokes your skin. “Me too.”

It’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Months of worrying, years of only having dreams to see and speak with each other had been taking its toll. The little relief you got from your shared dream space was nothing compared to having him in front of you.

You don’t want this feeling to end. Yet, you know there’s still so much standing in your way.

***

It’s late at night when you finally get back home. There had still been much to do after your arrival at the garage. Both you and Howzer had spoken to Senator Chuchi, and you had been introduced to the clones that had rescued Howzer, and the clones that had been part of Howzer’s squad.

Howzer had also been a bit hesitant to leave his men, but at their insistence he had left with you. It wasn’t like you were going that far, and you wouldn’t stop him if he wanted to return to see them, or to help the fledgling rebellion. You had been briefed on their operation and sworn to secrecy, though you wouldn’t even dream of revealing them.

“Here it is.” You say, leading Howzer inside the bakery. “My pride and joy.”

He smiles, glancing around. “It’s cuter in person.”

You had shown him images of your bakery in your shared dream space many times. When you’d bought the space, when you’d finished renovating, when you’d opened, and many times after as you changed aesthetics and decor.

You smile proudly. “I put a lot of work into her.”

He steps closer to you. "I can tell."

You stare up at him, getting lost in those eyes once more. You’re tempted to close the distance, but you don’t want to push too much. Especially not with him just having been rescued a few hours ago.

“I have one employee, Mina.” You say, breaking the silence as you show him around the bakery. “She sort of knows about you already. Her sister helped me get in to see Senator Chuchi.” You pause by the door that leads up to your apartment. “I’m sure you’ll meet eventually, but don’t worry. She’s basically family. I’d trust her with my life.”

You lead him up to your small apartment above the bakery. It’s not the most comfortable space, but it’s convenient and since it was just you, it worked.

You do wish you’d picked up a little before you left.

You have crates of new bakeware stacked everywhere, along with more supplies for the bakery on the kitchen counter. It’s not so much messy as just cluttered. You had been meaning to move the crates down to the kitchen downstairs, but that was a lot of work, and with everything going on, you were a bit distracted.

“Sorry, I’ll get this stuff cleared out tomorrow.” You say, stuffing a couple things in a crate before closing the top. You’re glad it’s the weekend and your bakery is closed. It will give you time to adjust, as well as figure some things out with Howzer.

You straighten up, meeting Howzer’s gaze. He’s watching you, an unreadable expression on his face. You shift on your feet, unsure of what to say. You hadn’t thought this far ahead. You had been so focused on his rescue and then meeting him, you hadn’t planned much else.

“You’re, uh, probably exhausted.” You say, breaking the silence. “You can have the spare bedroom.” You lead him across the living room to the door for the spare bedroom. “It doesn’t get used often,” You’re glad the bed is still made at least. “I don't remember the last time someone used it. There’s blankets in the closet if you get cold, but it gets pretty warm up here when the ovens are going in the kitchen downstairs. If you get too hot, you can turn on the air conditioning. I don’t bother since I’m downstairs most of the day and it cools off up here by the time I get done. Of course, we’re closed tomorrow so that won’t be much of a problem-”

A hand on your arm stops your rambling. You stare down at it for a moment before you follow it up to Howzer’s face. “It’s fine.” He says, giving you a small smile. “I think this is the nicest room I’ve been in.”

You open and close your mouth a few times. “That’s horribly depressing.”

His hand slides down your arm until he reaches your hand, taking it in his. “I’d sleep on the floor if it meant I could be close to you.”

Your cheeks warm once more, your stomach flipping at his words. “Well, I won’t make you do that. You can make yourself at home here. I’ll go out in the morning and pick up some stuff for you. I’m up pretty early usually anyway. Help yourself to anything you’d like, whenever you’d like.” You bite your lip, cutting off your rambling once more.

“Thank you.” He squeezes your hand gently. “For everything.”

“Well, I couldn’t just sit and do nothing.” You shrug. “I’m glad things worked out like they did.”

“Fate has a way of making sure things do work out.” He says, squeezing your hand.

“I guess it does.” You stare up into his eyes.

You stand there for a few moments, just staring at one another. It doesn’t seem uncomfortable, the silence between you. You know it will take some adjusting for both of you. Him more so, adjusting to a civilian life. A civilian life he has to hide in.

Senator Chuchi, and the other clones had cautioned both of you about anyone seeing Howzer. Especially since the Empire was aware of their interception and rescue. Though it was unlikely they’d send out a big search as that would warrant too much attention, if the wrong person saw Howzer, it would put both of you in danger.

It was worth the risk. Though you occasionally had some higher-profile customers, you weren’t worried about them. You could easily hide Howzer in your home, and you knew where to go if you ever needed to run. Coruscant was a big place. There were plenty of places to hide.

“I’ll, uh, let you get some sleep.” You say, pulling away from him, even though you feel you could stand there and stare at him for hours. “My room’s just off the kitchen. I’m a light sleeper so, just knock if you need anything.”

You back out of the room slowly, hesitant to leave him but you’re starting to feel the tiredness weighing down your limbs. You know he has to be tired too. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s gotten a good night’s sleep.

***

You settle into life with Howzer surprisingly easily. He tiptoes a bit, but you suppose that’s to be expected for someone new to civilian life. You return to a normal schedule at the bakery to keep up appearances. The last thing you need right now is for someone to suspect you of anything.

You don’t tell Mina right away about Howzer living upstairs in your apartment. You want to give things time to settle, time to cool down before you share his whereabouts. You feel a bit paranoid about everything, but if it keeps Howzer safe, then it’s worth it.

You haven’t used your dream space since he arrived. Though, with him being so close there wasn’t really a reason to. If you wanted to talk to him, he was only a room or a flight of stairs away. It feels surreal.

Despite being so close, you both tiptoe around each other a bit. You hadn’t really known what to expect once you had him in front of you. You’re not really sure anyone knows what to expect when they first meet their soulmate. You’d had the benefit of speaking to him long before you actually met him, so you already knew a lot about each other, but yet, there’s still hesitation there.

You don’t really know each other.

You’re a bit afraid to push, a bit afraid to start asking. He has to process it, and you want to give him time to do that. He’d given up a lot, risked a lot, and lost many of his men. That was just at the hands of the Empire. He had suffered through the war too.

He has nightmares often.

The first time you heard him, it had been in the quiet hours of the early morning. You’d woken and heard the rustling sheets as he fought whatever enemy he was facing, the quiet mutterings as he relieved whatever horrible thing he was facing.

You had debated getting up, but ultimately decided on it, not wanting to force him to continue to suffer through his nightmare. You got up and slipped to his room, watching his body jerk on the bed, brows pinched in a frown.

“Howzer?” You asked, stepping closer to the bed.

His eyes snapped open, body jerking upright. You suddenly found yourself with a blaster pointed at your chest. You stumbled back a step, gasping in shock. Clarity crosses his features, the blaster in his hand shaking as it stays pointed at you.

He curses, the blaster slowly lowering. You can see the guilt, the regret in his gaze. You slowly move to his side, gently peeling his fingers from around the blaster. You drop it on the bed behind you, sinking down next to him. You’re not sure when he had gotten the blaster, but you can understand why he would feel he needed it. He’d practically been born with a blaster in hand. Of course having one now, especially in such a vulnerable situation, had to be comforting.

“I could have shot you.” He gasps out, his breaths shaky.

You lace your fingers with his, squeezing gently. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you.”

“I could have killed you.” He says, voice shaking.

“But you didn’t.” You say, turning his face to look at you. “I’m alright. It was my fault.”

You can see the tears shining in his eyes from the dim light coming in the window. You hate it, you hate his suffering, you hate that he’ll blame himself for this. You hate that you feel so helpless, but you know there’s some things he has to work through on his own.

You can’t magically heal all of him. No matter how badly you wish you could.

***

The nightmares continue

You wake up hearing his gasps and grunts, the thrashing of his body in the sheets often. Ever since he pulled a blaster on you, you’ve been hesitant to wake him. You had been lucky he hadn’t fired, that he’d woken quickly enough to realize what was going on. Realize who was standing in front of him.

Instead you do research. He had figured out a way to control the dream space, to keep it from happening after he was arrested by the Empire. You hadn’t used it since he contacted you before his rescue, but perhaps you could figure out a way to use it to help him.

In your research you learn dream spaces are controlled entirely by the soulmates themselves. It’s mostly done on a subconscious level after the first initial dream. The yearning, the need to see your soulmate drives the pull into the dream space. If both are asleep at the same time, one can pull the other in. One can also shut off the dream space from the other, even without rejection.

So Howzer in his desperation to keep you safe had subconsciously cut off your dreamspace for months. It had only opened back up when he had wanted to contact you. When he needed to contact you.

Perhaps you can use that to your advantage.

You wait until Howzer has another nightmare before you try it. It takes a few minutes, some deep thinking, until suddenly you’re floating on that familiar feeling, the world around you going white.

He’s there, looking around in shock. He’s breathing heavily, eyes still wide with fear. He says your name in confusion, brows pinching as he frowns.

“I did it.” You say, stepping up to him. “It worked.”

His frown deepens. “What did you do?”

“You can control the dream space.” You explain, telling him everything you’ve learned. You want to help him with his nightmares, and this was the safest way for both of you. Not that you thought he’d pull a blaster on you, or shoot you, but you could never be too careful.

“Thank you.” He says, relaxing a bit as the nightmare falls away, left in the past.

“You know you can talk to me.” You say. “I can’t really understand what it was like, but you know I’ll listen.”

His gaze drops, shoulders slumping. “I don’t want to scare you away.”

You shake your head, wishing you could touch him. “You won’t scare me. Nothing you could say would scare me. Let me help you. I want to help you.”

He slowly lifts his gaze, his eyes meeting yours. You give him a small smile, wishing you could reach out and smooth the small frown pinched between his brows. You wish you could run your fingers over his face, ease the tension in his body.

You’ve never cursed your alarm more than you do at that moment.

***

The weekend couldn’t come soon enough. The bakery seemed extra busy that week, and you had barely gotten time to take a break and check on Howzer. You know he’s fine, you know he’s capable of entertaining himself and keeping himself busy. You can’t help but worry about him, though.

You get off late every day, dragging your feet up the steps, dreading another early morning. You love the bakery, and you wouldn’t change anything, but sometimes the exhaustion really begins to hit you.

Howzer always looks concerned, usually starting to piece together something for dinner as you drag yourself in the door. He’s no professional chef, considering he lived off rations most of his life, but he does alright. He doesn’t seem to mind doing it, and you’re more than willing to let him help out a bit. Especially if it means you don’t have to stand in a kitchen more than you already do.

Over the weekend you planned on testing new flavors for the bakery. It was getting about time to start revamping the menu again, and you had a few things you wanted to test. You’d usually force it on Mina and her soulmate to try, but you have Howzer now. He’d never really had anything sweet before he met you, and you had rectified that very quickly.

You rise early as usual, taking care not to be too loud as you set to start making some cakes and pastries. You hum quietly to yourself as you begin mixing, measuring out ingredients and getting the pans ready.

Howzer rises not long after, equally an early riser, though you were usually up before him. He watches you for a while, eyes following you around the kitchen.

He doesn’t move until you’re starting on the second batch, joining you in the kitchen. He moves hesitantly, despite his posture always speaking to his training, his status. He took up a lot of space in any room, even if he was trying to make himself seem smaller.

“Can you teach me?” He asks, stepping up next to you.

You look up at him in surprise. “You want to learn how to make cakes?”

He shrugs. “Yeah.”

You stare down at the mixer before shrugging. “Sure, why not.”

You grab an apron for him, helping him tie it before you start explaining things. Ingredients, measurements, how much to add to the pans, how long to bake them for. You teach him how to make frosting too, how perfect everything has to be, how to know when it’s mixed just enough.

He starts to talk too as you guide him, telling you about everything. From the time you last spoke right before he defied Imperial orders to when he was rescued. He tells you what happened to him, and the little he knew about what happened to the others.

Your heart aches for him as he spills everything, everything that haunts him in his nightmares. You can understand why they’re so bad, why they plague him so much.

You wrap your arms around him as you wait for the cakes to cool, pulling him against your chest. You hadn’t shared much contact at all since he moved into your apartment. You’d been separated by hesitation and your own busy schedule. You know he’s here, you know he’s real, but it feels good to hold him. You want to hold him and never let go. You want to be with him every minute of every day. You want to protect him and ease his nightmares away.

“Sleep with me.” You say, voice slightly muffled by his chest.

“What?” He chuckles nervously, trying to pull away but you tighten your hold around him.

“Sleep in my bed with me. At night.” You say, trying to calm the nervous pounding of your heart. It matches his pounding against your ear. “Maybe...maybe it will help with the nightmares.”

“I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” He says.

“I said I was a light sleeper. As soon as you start to have a nightmare, I can slip into the dream space and pull you out.” You say. “It’s worth a try.”

He sighs, wrapping his arms tightly around you once more. “I guess.”

You smile. “I’ve never had a man sound so disappointed to sleep in the same bed as me before.”

He pulls away, staring down at you with a dark look on his face.

You burst out laughing, shaking your head. “Don’t worry. You’ll be the first to actually do it.” You shake your head. “Plenty have offered, but you know how busy I am and besides, I’ve been waiting on the right person.”

He shakes his head, a smile forming on his face. “You think you’re so funny.”

You grin, flicking frosting onto his nose. “I’m hilarious.”

He looks offended before a wicked grin forms on his face, his arms scooping you up before you can even turn and run. You squeal, wiggling in his grasp. He loses his hold on you, both of you falling onto the floor in your small kitchen. He softens the drop with his arms, one hand cradling the back of your head as you hit the floor, and he falls on top of you. He’s a solid weight over you, your faces inches apart.

You stare up into his eyes, your arms snaking around his neck. He drops just slightly closer, your breaths mingling. You lift your head just slightly before darting your tongue out to lick the frosting off his nose.

His nose scrunches before he laughs, shaking his head. “You could just kiss me like a normal person.”

“Who said I was normal?” You grin before you’re pulling him down, your lips meeting his.

***

Howzer moved into your bed that night. He was still plagued by nightmares for the first few nights, but there was no incident, nothing like the first night he’d had a nightmare in your apartment. You had eased him into the dream space every time, talking him down before you inevitably woke thanks to your early alarm.

He rises with you the first few times, until he eventually settles enough to give you a sleepy kiss before rolling over and going back to sleep.

He also likes to cuddle. It had been a bit awkward at first, until you’d woken with his arms around you. You hadn’t said anything, and it easily became something natural. You gravitate towards each other as you were naturally made to do.

You wake early one weekend, as you were wont to do. Not as early as you had to for work, but still too early for the weekend. Howzer agrees, his arms wrapped tight around you from behind. You can feel him, every part of him pressed up against your back. He’s shirtless, only his thin sleep pants and your own shorts separating you. His arms around your waist have pushed your shirt up, his skin touching yours.

You can feel the energy between you, the tingling from where you’re connected. It’s a warm feeling, a comforting feeling. You feel safe, like nothing else in the world could hurt you, could come between you, so long as you’re touching.

“Go back to sleep.” He murmurs, lips brushing your neck.

You bite your lip at the sensation, goosebumps forming on your skin. He nuzzles his face closer, a warm puff of air ghosting over your skin as he exhales. You bite your lip, dropping your hands to his arms, trailing your fingers along his skin. He shifts against you, pressing even closer behind you.

“I can’t.” You say, pushing back against him.

He hums, one hand pushing higher beneath your sleep shirt, palm and fingers splaying across your stomach. You gasp at the sensation, shifting against him once more. You haven’t done more than kissing and some exploring, and plenty of cuddling. You can’t deny the heat pooling between your legs as he grinds against you, his half-hard length pressing against your ass.

“Howzer?” You ask quietly, turning just slightly so you can see him. He lifts his head so he can stare down at you. “I’d like you to fuck me now.”

His hand slips from beneath your shirt to cup your face. “You sure, mesh’la?”

You take the hand on your face, boldly slipping it under your shorts so it’s resting against your damp panties. “I’m ready.”

The corner of his lips lift in a grin. “That’s pretty good evidence.” He pushes against your underwear, applying pressure to your clit.

You gasp, fingers wrapping around his wrist. “I’m ready. I want to do it.”

He leans down, kissing you softly. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” You say, kissing him hard.

His tongue slips into your mouth, the hand between your legs beginning to circle your clit over your panties. You cling to him, allowing him to work your body up. You could get lost in him so easily, in his tender touches, his strong demeanor.

He’s utterly perfect.

You moan against his lips as he continues to tease you through your panties, your own hand trailing down his chest. You trace the lines of his muscles, slowly working your way down his stomach. His hips press closer to your hand, a groan rumbling through his chest.

You nip at his bottom lip as he pulls back, moving his body so he’s hovering over you. His hand pulls free of your shorts, fingers looping under the waistband before tugging them down your legs. You pull your shirt over your head, leaving yourself bare before him. You fight the urge to hide under his gaze, the urge to cover yourself as he studies you.

He leans his body over yours, pressing a kiss to your lips. “So kriffing beautiful.” He murmurs, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck.

“Howzer,” You gasp as he nips at the sensitive skin, your arms wrapping around his strong back.

You can feel the pulsing beneath your skin, the electricity starting to ignite your nerve endings as you get closer and closer to him. He’s so big and warm over you, the pulsing feeling shooting down between your thighs.

You need him.

Your fingers trail down his back before they slip under the waistband of his sleep pants. You begin to tug them down and he pulls away just enough to help you, kicking them off the end of the bed. He’s thick and hard, the tip of his cock leaking. You bite your lip as you stare at him, thighs clenching in anticipation.

“Kriff, I need you so bad.” He groans, burying his face in your chest. He licks and nips at your skin, leaving marks in his wake. It’s so possessive, the way he leaves his mark on you, the way his hands grip your sides, your hips.

“Take me.” You say, letting your thighs fall open for him. “I’m yours.”

He stares down at your glistening pussy, licking his lips. “All mine.”

“Only yours.” You gasp as his fingers trail along your slick folds, gathering the wetness there to wet his cock.

He slips his cock along your folds, teasing you before he lines himself up. You watch him as he eases the head of his cock inside, your body stiffening a bit at the stretch. His hands grip your hips, gently massaging the skin in an attempt to ease the stretch and help you relax.

“So kriffing tight.” He breathes as he slips further in, moving slowly to give you time to adjust.

He folds his body over yours as he sinks completely inside you, lips tracing a path from your chest to your jaw. He’s so big, stretching you so much. You wrap yourself around him, holding onto him as your body adjusts to his cock.

“So good for me.” He whispers in your ear, shifting his hips just slightly. “So perfect.”

You moan as his cock moves inside you, your legs tightening around his waist.

“You like that?” He groans, pulling out just a little before sinking back into you. “Feel good?”

“So good.” You gasp, hips lifting to meet his slow thrusts.

“Good girl.” He murmurs, pulling out further, before sinking back in.

You cling to him as he fucks you deep and slow, his arms wrapped around you just as tightly. You can feel him, every part of him as he makes love to you, your very souls connecting. It’s almost overwhelming, being so connected, being so full of him.

“Howzer!” You gasp his name as you cum, shaking under him.

He groans into your neck, hips jerking as he spills into you.

Neither of you move, still wrapped around each other, still completely connected. You’re practically vibrating with energy as the feeling of him fills you and overwhelms your body. The warm puffs of his breath on your sweat-slicked skin, the beat of his heart echoing in your chest keeps you grounded, keeps you here with him.

“I love you,” He whispers, lips brushing your skin.

“I love you too.” You whisper in his ear, tightening your hold around him.

(I'm going to try putting the taglist in a reblog. See if that works.)

#star wars #star wars fic #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #captain howzer x reader #x reader #clone thirsting #soulmate au

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