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jetii · 2 months

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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.

taglist: @covert1ntrovert @baddest-batchers @bruh-myguy-what @spicy-clones @qvnthesia

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@heidnspeak @lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod

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@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony

#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*

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badbatchsprincess · 5 months

Text

Heated ~ pt.6

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, sex!pollen trope, some injury, sexual themes, masturbation, heat cycles, rut

Finally I got his chapter done lololol there's 4k extra words in this one so please enjoy haha!

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

"We're under attack!" Wrecker pointed to the sky as more Separatist bombing droids came whizzing by, firing at the Venators in orbit.

"I'm getting Y/N," Hunter started, taking off running towards the growing commotion, but he was suddenly taken off balance when Tech tripped him with his own foot, causing the Sergeant to go tumbling into the grass. He looked up at Tech with a glare.

"You cannot go," Tech said, looking at the camp. "With your heightened senses, it may kill you. From what I can see, those wearing helmets are okay due to their air filters, but those who were caught off guard are starting to display signs of infection. Rescuing Y/N will only risk our own infection, and then it will be irrelevant."

Hunter looked back at the camp, distraught.

"We can't just leave her," Hunter growled, standing back up again.

"What if she's infected?" Crosshair asked, looking down his scope at the medical tent. "The Omegas on the science team died."

Wrecker growled.

"The Omegas died because they had no Alpha to cure their induced heat," Tech read through the researcher's report. "The heat symptoms progressed too far unnaturally."

Suddenly, their com channel cracked. "Hunter?"

"Wolffe?" Hunter responded, looking back at the chaos across the clearing.

"I got her, Hunter!" Wolffe radioed in. "Are you at the Marauder?"

"Yes, we're up here," Hunter said, relieved he could finally take a breath. He grabbed his scope and looked down the rolling hills, trying to see through the foggy red dust.

"We're on our way," Wolffe turned his com off, leaving the 99's in anxious silence. Hunter could pick up the stench rolling off Wrecker and Tech. While the scent was significantly less, even Crosshair was getting nervous seeing the rising tensions in the crowd of 104th regs.

"I see them," Tech said, zooming in his lenses. "1 o'clock."

"What happened to her?" Hunter tried zooming in closer to their silhouette. Y/N was thrown over Wolffe’s shoulder, dangling limply, while Echo followed behind, holding a bloody rag over his face.

"Is she hurt?" Tech asked, trying to get a clearer image.

"I can't tell," Crosshair hissed.

Wolffe and Echo ran as fast as they could, dodging regs and shoving their way through the chaos. When they finally made it up the hill, Wolffe was panting and rubbing at his eyes, trying to wipe the dust from his skin.

The others backed up, not wanting to get any closer.

Wolffe set Y/N down on the plush grass, letting Echo kneel down and press his hand to her forehead. He adjusted the little filtration mask pressed to her face, letting her head lull to the side. She was knocked out cold.

"What the hell happened?" Crosshair couldn't believe it.

"I don't know," Wolffe rasped. "But you gotta get her out of here!" He was panting, starting to feel the effects.

"Tech, power up the ship, we're leaving now," Hunter placed his helmet on, securing the filtration system. The others did the same, running to get the ship primed and ready.

"Radio the General, please!" Wolffe was tearing at his armor, starting to feel the unbearable itch of a rut forming. "Fuck!"

Hunter bent down, picking up the tiny Omega and turned towards the ship.

"What about the other Omegas?" Echo asked, looking back at the camp. The infected regs were raising their noses in the air, seemingly trying to tail a particular scent.

"We can't save them all," Hunter decided, saving Y/N was the top of his priority. "We're not risking it."

Echo just nodded and followed him onboard the ship, letting the door close behind him.

When Tech started to pull the Marauder up into the air, they could see the Commander crawling in the grass, fighting the effects of the drug, but in the distance, they saw the beady eyes of the infected following Y/N’s trail.

They seemed to fall into rage when they realized the Omega had gotten away; their howls could be heard from the ship.

"Maker…" Echo was in disbelief. It was hoards of feral Alphas, hundreds of them.

"What happened to Pip?" Wrecker was nudging her limp body, pathetically trying to wake her up.

"Is she infected?" Tech asked.

"No," Echo confirmed. "She got the mask in time."

"Are you infected?" Hunter looked at their co-pilot.

"No," Echo shook his head. "I'm barely human, nonetheless an Alpha. I don't think it affects me the same way it does all of you."

"We should still check," Tech put the ship into autopilot and went into Y/N's bunk to grab her med kit.

"What happened to her?" Hunter asked, setting her down gently on the floor.

"We just got to the triage tent, she was clocking in when Wolffe came to speak with her," Echo noticed the way Hunter’s eyes narrowed, possessively he might add. He was going to love rousting Y/N when she finally wakes up. "They were talking when the bombs dropped. She saw the red and knew exactly what it was. She grabbed a respirator and tried to save her friend, that little skinny Omega."

"Taran," Tech chimed in.

"Yeah, sure, anyways," Echo looked over to his longest-known friend. "She got knocked over in the chaos and hit her head. Almost got trampled but Wolffe found her and got her out." Echo wanted to smirk so badly, knowing it was going to drive his unit up the wall to know Wolffe saved the day once again.

They had been pining for her ever since they met her, but Y/N was too oblivious to notice. But the arc trooper noticed everything. His sense of smell may have been demolished, but he could see it in all of their eyes.

Echo also may or may not have caught Crosshair rutting with an Omega that looked nearly identical to Y/N the last time they were back for quarterlies. Echo didn't say anything though, but he was always watching.

"What do we do?" Wrecker took off his helmet and sat on the floor next to Y/N.

"She'll need bacta for the head injury and probably pain management when she wakes," Tech informed.

"I'll do it," Crosshair knelt down, taking the pack. "I did it for her once on Crait."

The others just watched as he found the liquid bacta and placed it into her injector. He cleaned the site and pressed the mechanism close to her neck. He pressed the button and watched the dose administer. Her head lulled back into his hand, and he gently removed the respirator from her face.

"Ad’ika?" Hunter cooed, running a gloved hand over her cheek.

Crosshair kept his hawk eyes carefully trained on her eyelashes. She tried to flutter them open, but they were too heavy it seemed. Instead, she just clutched onto his chest plate weakly and groaned in pain.

"It's okay," Hunter whispered, watching Crosshair help her sit up. "You're safe."

She turned into Crosshair, feeling dizzy.

"Get her the painkiller," Tech fussed. Hunter loaded the new cartridge and handed it to the sniper. He pressed it to her shoulder and pushed the button, hearing her wince as the medicine entered her system.

"She's too weak, get her something to lay down on," Crosshair motioned to their bunks.

Wrecker disappeared into her bunk and came back with her cot mattress. They made room on the main cabin floor where Crosshair gently set her down on the mattress, letting her lay down comfortably.

She rolled onto her side, keeping her eyes closed, waiting for the medicine to kick in.

Hunter just looked to Echo, who was concerned, watching his friend in pain.

"What do we do now?" Wrecker asked, watching the Venators approach.

"We let them know what happened, and then I guess we go to Coruscant for quarterlies," Hunter crossed his arms, peering down at the little medic. "We're not going back to Kashyyyk. Not with Y/N."

"It’s been three months already?" Wrecker groused, he hated getting his implant replaced.

"Shockingly yes," Tech replied. "We'll be coming up on seventy-five rotations, give or take a few days." He settled back into his seat to send the transmission to General Plo’s ship.

Up ahead, the darkness of space was lit up with blue and red laser beams as the Republic forces engaged the Separatist warships. Tech stayed far enough away to not be noticed, but close enough to get the message out.

"Well then let's set a course for—" Echo was cut off when their ship was suddenly rocked violently.

"Separatists!" Tech pulled back the controls and started making a beeline away from the planet to make the jump to hyperspace.

"They're on our tail!" Echo exclaimed, watching the red blast fly past them.

"I know…" Tech tried to snake the ship hopefully to throw them, but the droid ship just locked on.

"Make the jump!" Crosshair bit out.

Tech flicked the switch on the console, hearing the hyperdrive power up. Tech set the course for Coruscant, and Echo pushed the lever. Just as the Marauder made the jump, there was a blast coming from the back of the ship.

Just as they jumped, the ship made a loud rumble before falling out of hyperspace. They all lurched forwards as the Marauder was beginning to lose control.

"We've lost left rear engine and hyperdrive," Echo was scrambling to gain the controls back.

"We're heading straight for Mimban," Tech pointed out, seeing the brown planet approaching quickly.

"We're going to have to make an emergency landing," Echo grabbed his steering and tried to pull up to slow the ship.

"Brace!" Tech yelled, pulling up the nose last minute.

The crash was violent and rough. The entire ship creaked as its hull bent under the impact. The lights overhead flickered before permanently shutting off, throwing the whole crew into total darkness. Everyone on board was flung forwards as the Marauder skidded to a halt into something soft.

The emergency lights turned on with a red glow, signaling a total system failure.

~~~

Everything was fuzzy and dizzying the longer you tried to refocus your vision. The pain killers were swirling in your system, making you feel good… really good actually. This was probably the best crash landing you've ever been a part of now that you're thinking about it.

"Y/N?" Echo's face was suddenly in yours. "What is wrong with her?"

You heard yourself giggling. Echo suddenly had two heads, only making you giggle more. Reaching out, your hands felt strange, like they had grown scales or something. You just looked at them, watching your fingertips change colors with an amused gasp.

"Crosshair gave her too much painkiller," Tech brought his flashlight to your eyes, watching them dilate. You placed a hand against Tech's helmet lens, blocking his view, making him swat your grabby hands away.

"What do we do?"

"We just gotta wait it out."

"Well, I don't think that will be a problem. I don't think we're getting out of here for a while."

You could hear their voices talking. Hunter's smokey voice was like honey to your ears. You chewed your lip, looking down at your boots, feeling your cheeks heat up. You felt a tingly warmth start to fill your tummy the longer he talked, and the feeling only seemed to move lower as he continued. You looked up and stared at his criminally slutty waist and fit ass from your jump seat with a longing stare.

You barely registered when he turned to face you with a raised brow. Caught, you turned your gaze up to meet his pretty face and pretty eyes. You bit your lip and blinked owlishly as he studied your face.

"That's freaking me out," Echo grumbled, watching you go out of your right mind.

"Well, let's get to work trying to repair the ship. I don't want to find out what's out here come nightfall," Hunter ordered, "and don't let her wander.”

Soon, you found yourself alone, happily swinging your feet from the jump seat without a care in the world. Echo arrived and adjusted your seat straps so you couldn’t dawdle off like a lost pup. You just giggled and poked at his head ports, making him scowl.

He forced you to drink some water, mumbling something about flushing your system.

You felt the warm Mimban breeze blow through the ship as the boys opened the hatch and got to work digging the ship out.

Tech came to feed you some ration bars and give you more water before checking your vitals. When he determined you were able to hold yourself up without falling over, he unclipped the jump seat straps and helped you get used to your feet again.

“I would suggest you just lay down for a while until you’re functioning properly again.” You clutched his arm while he helped you walk to the mattress on the floor. You plopped down on your bum before flopping over on your side.

“Alright then.” Tech pushed his glasses up and went back to tinkering in one of the side panels.

You pawed at the sky, trying to feel the breeze with your hands, which earned you a few glances from your concerned pack. You nibbled at the food they left for you, but it started to taste funny, and you only giggled more.

“I couldn’t have given her that much,” Crosshair watched you play with your food with an amused look on his face.

“She’s small, even for humanoid omega standards,” Tech ripped out a clump of fried wires and began cutting through the damage, “The dose you gave her was most likely for a full-grown alpha, such as Wrecker.”

“Kriff,” Crosshair whispered and turned back to help Tech.

~~~

Night was coming fast, and you had now come down from being stoned beyond your wildest imagination. You stared at the wall, suddenly remembering everything and realizing the dire situation you were all in. You were beginning to miss the delirium of the painkillers. Luckily, your headache was gone, and the bacta seemed to heal the head injury.

However, you were still royally pissed at your unit.

You didn’t forget what happened, and how they had treated you. You tucked your knees into your chest and decided zoning out into the wall would be better than feeling the rage boiling in your chest.

You noticed they were starting to call it quits making their way back inside the ship. You decided you wanted to be alone and grabbed the corner of your cot to drag it haphazardly through the nearly sideways ship. With a struggle, you got the mattress back into your bunk and hauled it up onto the metal slab. With one final grunt, you shoved the mattress back into place, giving yourself a rest.

You decided to change into something a little cooler. This planet seemed to be a lot warmer than Kashyyyk. You haven’t been able to see outside, but you could taste the humidity in the air and feel the warming breeze. You yanked your long sleeve off and swapped it out for a cropped tank. The tight cargos got swapped for loose ones, and you kicked off your boots, opting just for your socks.

You heard a knock on the door and expected it to be Tech needing something from his bunk, but it turned out to be Echo.

“Hey,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” you replied, folding up your dirty clothes. Your nose immediately scrunched, “You reek.” It wasn’t his normal smell; it was something gross and terrestrial.

He sniffed his armpits, “I didn’t even think I still had sweat glands.”

You shook your head and pointed to his shoes, “Stinky!”

He looked down at the reddish mud caked onto his boots, “Oh… yeah, it’s nasty out there.”

You just made a face and covered your nose.

“You feeling okay?” He asked.

You nodded, “Yeah, but I don’t really know what’s going on. One second I’m on Kashyyyk and the next I’m higher than a hayroot, and then we’ve crash-landed on some stinky planet.”

“Well… you pretty much nailed it,” Echo scratched his head, “You got knocked out in the triage tent after separatists dropped the spice bombs. Then Wolffe carried you all the way back to the Marauder despite being dosed himself and handed you off to Hunter who tried to get away to keep everyone safe and get the message to the General, but we were shot down making the jump to lightspeed and then crash-landed here on Mimban.”

“Mimban?!” You screeched, “That’s in the middle of nowhere!”

He nodded solemnly.

“Did you guys send a distress call to the Republic fleet?”

“We tried… then Tech realized our comms have been squished.”

“Squished…” You narrowed your eyes.

“That was the word he used.”

“I see,” you crossed your arms, “So what I’m hearing is, we have no ship…”

“Correct.”

“No comms.”

“Correct.”

“No fleet.”

“Correct.”

“No one knows where we are.”

“Mhmm.”

“The entire 104th was chemically attacked.”

“Yes.”

“And we’re stranded on Mimban… with no way to leave.”

“Correct.”

“Are you all aware we are supposed to be on Coruscant in eleven days for quarterlies?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, feeling the anxiety creeping in. Great, this is just perfect.

“Are you… alright?” He asked, watching your eye twitch slightly.

“No.”

There was a bout of silence…

He smacked his teeth, “It’s an unfortunate situation.”

You nodded vigorously, “One might say that.”

“An extremely awful and awkward situation…”

“Yeah… it is,” you pushed your tongue into the side of your mouth.

“Well… do you want dinner?”

“I think I lost my appetite,” you gave him a plastered smile.

“Let me know if that changes… I’ll leave you to it.” Echo turned on his heel, leaving your bunk and closed the door behind him. It was only a few seconds before he heard you scream violently into your pillow, making the others jump.

“I take it she figured it out,” Hunter uncovered his ears.

Echo shook his head, “Yeah, I’d say she figured it out.”

“FUCK!” Your muffled scream made Hunter cringe again.

“I think she’s taking the news quite well,” Tech poked at his food.

“Was that you making a joke?” Crosshair raised a brow.

“I thought my sarcasm was obvious,” Tech bit into his warmed food.

“How was that obvious?” Wrecker grumbled.

“We have to get off this rock,” Echo chewed his dinner, “Stating the obvious, but your implants are going to wear out. If we don’t get an evac or somehow manage to fix the ship, we’re going to have a big problem.”

“Our first priority is to fix the com system and try to contact the nearest fleet,” Tech replied, “That would be the most promising scenario given we have no other hurdles.”

“And if we can’t?” Echo raised a brow.

“Then we’ll deal with it when the time comes,” Hunter was trying not to think about the fact that they could be dealing with an omega in heat with alphas in rut in a very confined space. The potential for a mess was likely.

“That gives me a lot of confidence,” Echo snarked.

“It’s all we can do.”

~~~

Day two on Mimban consisted of you coming out of your bunk earlier than the others to eat your breakfast. You looked outside the cockpit window to see nothing but orange fog clouding any terrain. You sighed and prayed to the Force that it would guide you back safely.

The rest of the day, you helped Echo, trailing him, trying to help in any way possible. You quickly realized that the soil on Mimban was reddish-brown clay and it was soft. That was probably the reason the ship hadn’t snapped in two on impact, but the nose of the ship was buried into a thick pile of the stuff. The boys were busy trying to dig out the hull while you, Tech, and Echo fixed the interior damage.

Day three, you were starting to get a little weary. Sleeping on an angle was a bit rough, and Tech decided rest was beneath him. He stayed up all night trying to repair the comm system but didn’t seem to be making any good progress. Echo had you carry around all of the spare parts he needed to try and fix the left engine. Hunter had elected to venture out with Crosshair to see if there were any towns that might be able to help. Wrecker was on shovel clay duty.

Day four, you realized your unit was totally alone in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. There wasn’t anything within remote traveling distance, and when Hunter and Crosshair came back in the morning with the news, you left to lock yourself in your bunk and cry.

Day five was much of the same. You leaned your forehead against the side of the ship while Echo abused your laser suture to weld some pieces of metal to the engine core. You were starting to feel the weight of the situation as the emotional exhaustion was starting to settle in. You missed Kashyyyk. You missed the food, and the fresh water, and the clean air. You missed talking to your unit. They still haven’t apologized, and you’re still giving them the cold shoulder even though they clearly cared enough to protect you from the attack on the war camp. Eating your meals in the bunks was the only time you got to yourself.

Day six was when the others started getting a little agitated. It started with Tech fussing about the mud caking on his boots and ass. He tried shaking off the thick clay but ended up getting so frustrated he screamed and kicked the Marauder with full force. It was so out of character everyone stopped what they were doing to look. No one said anything, but they watched their pack mate rip off his shoes and throw them violently into the cabin with a loud splat followed by very creative cursing.

Wrecker was starving as usual, and his food-related complaining was starting to make your stomach growl too. You had to resort to rationing your rations as you all were not prepared to be stranded for days on end.

“Someone had to have seen us get shot down, right?” You asked Echo, handing him his screwdriver.

“I don’t know, pip,” he sighed, scratching his head, “I don’t think this planet is very inhabited. And if it is, we don’t know if it’s advanced in any way.”

You sighed, taking the screwdriver back and handing him a wrench.

“I think the others are starting to lose it,” you whispered and peeked around the corner to see Tech angrily messing with the console with his mismatched socks on display.

“I’ve certainly never seen Tech yell before,” he snickered.

“I miss Kashyyyk,” you sighed.

“Do you miss Kashyyyk or a certain alpha on Kashyyyk?” he joked.

“Echo!” You whispered.

“What?” he laughed, “I’m thinking about that omega back on Coruscant I had before Skako Minor.”

You gasped, feigning scandal.

Echo smirked, “Whatever gets you through the day.”

“Guys, come out here!” Hunter’s voice echoed throughout the ship.

The three of you came out of the ship to see that they had cleared most of the clay away from the ship.

“We need help pushing her over so she’s back on her feet!” Hunter said, ushering you all to help. When you all were in position, you pushed with everything you had (Wrecker did most of the work), but you all watched in awe as the Marauder was finally on all four landing pads.

“We did it!” Wrecker hooted and picked you up spinning you around before depositing you back in the mud. You gave him a little laugh which made his eyes light up. If he was happy about the ship, that was nothing compared to hearing your voice again.

They all got back to their tasks while Wrecker lingered a bit trying to figure out how to hear that pretty sound again.

You just followed Echo back into the now level ship.

“She laughed.” Wrecker mused, “I haven’t heard her laugh in so long.”

Hunter just gave him a saddened look. He knew him and Crosshair still had to apologize for their behavior back on Kashyyyk. But so many things that happened since then he didn’t have time to think about what to say or how to even approach you. It was killing him that you didn’t want to be around them anymore. He was angered by the fact that Wolffe has offered to take you in, and you hadn’t denied him. Had they really pushed you so far? Your cries when Crosshair forced you to submit out of fear haunted him. It made his inner alpha cringe. He regrets not stepping in but he knew his jealousy had overtaken him. Hearing you giggling with Wolffe and coming back wreaking of him like a mated pair made his blood boil. He was far more territorial than he had ever given himself credit for even though he didn’t actually have a claim on you.

You on the other hand, had no desire to talk to either Hunter or Crosshair, even in this desolate situation you’ll never forget the feeling of Crosshair forcing you to do that.

Day seven then turned into eight, which morphed into nine and ten. By the eleventh day, you knew your time was becoming limited. The past few days had everyone’s sense of smell acting up. The pungent odors from the planet’s atmosphere were becoming stronger and you knew the implants were wearing out.

You knew you couldn’t beat around the bush any longer, by dinner time on the eleventh night, you emerged from your bunk full of anxiety. You walked through the galley and faced your pack who conversed over their food.

“So, whats the plan?”

They all whipped their heads around shocked to hear your voice. You stood there raising a brow and crossing your arms waiting for the shock to wear off and someone say something.

“I’m assuming you’re referring to our implants dissipating.” Tech spoke first.

You nodded.

“Well that means we have an undisclosed amount of time before we all inevitably have a rut and you a heat. That puts us in a precarious situation that I think-”

“We know!” Echo snapped.

“We can turn Wreckers bunk into your place for the week.” Hunter started, “You can stay there and we can rig the lock so only Echo can open it. The rest of us will just deal with it out here.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You retreated back into your bunk.

“Y/N! Wait.” Hunter stood up and followed you. He stepped inside your bunk to find you nervously chewing on your lip. You turned around to face him looking like a kicked pup.

“I-I…” He stuttered wanting nothing more than to reach out and embrace you like you had allowed before this whole fight.

“What Hunter?” You were getting agitated with his silence.

“I…I’m sorry, I’m bad at communicating my feelings.” He sighed knowing he was starting to sound like Crosshair, “I don’t know how I should approach you or… I…”

You just help up your hand stopping him, “Come back when the words find you.”

He sighed, “No I-I just need to tell you… how sorry I am. I was wrong. I should have stopped Crosshair and I shouldn’t have punched Wolffe. I just… something came over me and I lost it. It wasn’t okay and I should have protected my pack…I should have protected you and I’m so sorry we’re in this situation again. I don’t know what to do, I-I-“

“Hunter.” You stopped him, “Thank you for saying something.”

He shook his head, “No, you should be angry with me… with us. This isn’t how a pack is supposed to be. At least I don’t think. I’ve never actually been apart of a real one given I don’t have a family.”

“Hunter…we are your pack.” You sighed.

“I just… wait what?” His face suddenly lightened, “y-you’re staying?”

You raised a brow confused.

“It’s just I thought you were starting to court Wolffe, or rather he was courting you and then he offered you a spot in his ranks…” Hunter babbled.

“Hold up.” You shook your head, “Commander Wolffe?”

Hunter looked at you and blinked.

“Courting me? Me courting Commander Wolffe?” You couldn’t hold in the laugh anymore, “That’s what this is about? You thought I-… oh my god!” You were howling.

“He- you-“ Hunter crossed his arms confused now.

“Me what?” You giggled.

“You came back… from being with him.” He mumbled.

“Did you not hear me when I got back to camp?” You were amused at his confusion.

“It was kinda hard to listen when you came back covered in his scent.” He said pointedly.

“Hunter… I almost drowned in the river.” You scoffed, “Wolffe had to pull me out before I got swept down stream.”

He just let his mouth lull open.

“And yes, while we may have been naked, nothing happened…”

“You were WHAT?” Echo screeched from the main cabin.

“You were what?” Hunter repeated with a growl.

“Chill,” You warned.

“You didn’t tell me that!” Echo yelled.

“I may have left that detail out.” You yelled back.

“Look,” You smiled up at Hunter adjusting your crossed arms, “Wolffe has a good ass but he’s definitely not an alpha I’m interested in like that. Now what I cannot figure out is what the hell happened that made you all hate him so much. You didn’t have a problem with him hitting on me on Coruscant.”

Hunter just reached back and scratched his nape, “I uh…”

“Tell her Hunt!” Echo chided from the other room. What a little eavesdropper.

Hunter shifted uncomfortably, “He-he asked if I had claimed you on Crait…”

Butterflies fluttered violently in your stomach. You tried your hardest to steel your emotions but he continued, “I said no. That was the truth, but then he made it pretty clear he was interested in pursuing you. I guess I-”

Suddenly the pieces clicked…

“Hunter, are you jealous?” You put your hands on your hips.

“W-What?” He sputtered and you watched his un-tattooed side of his face turn pink.

“And Crosshair too?” You raised a brow. That would explain his sudden aggression towards you.

“I-I uh,” He genuinely didn’t know what to say but you knew the truth.

Suddenly you remembered the way they all started acting weird after Wolffe talked to hunter. They were all starting to get territorial. They thought Wolffe was taking you from them and they started changing their behavior trying to get your attention.

“I’m coming to save Hunter before he implodes.” Echo stepped into the bunk and let Hunter walk out redder than Mimban clay. Echo gave you a playful look before disappearing back into the cabin leaving you alone to think about everything. The one thing you desired was at least some kind of olive branch from Crosshair, you knew you’d never get a heartfelt apology, but until then you’d wait. He owed you that at least.

~~~

That night, your anxiety was at an all time high. Sleeping in the newly converted bunk the boys had made was making you a bit uneasy. Wrecker’s alpha scent was calming, but you were used to having Tech near by, instead the square box was feeling a bit prison like. The knowledge that you were locked in too didn’t help. You would have preferred to have slept with the door open but Echo insisted that this be how it is.

You curled up on your side holding Lula trying to close your eyes and let sleep take over, but your elevated heart rate disagreed.

You picked up your com and pressed the button, “Echo!” You whispered.

The line was quiet for a moment before he responded, “What?” His voice was raspy with sleep.

“I’m literally fine can you please let me out? I can’t sleep.” You spoke softly into the device.

“No.” The line went dead and you rolled over onto your back with a groan. You picked up your data pad and decided to read one of your smutty holobooks instead.

~~~

“What did she want?” Hunter rasped waking up from the noise.

“She wanted out.” Echo set the device down and curled back up onto his side.

“She’s not an animal Echo…” He sighed rubbing at his eyelids, “It’s not a cage.”

Echo just blinked up at the bottom of Hunter’s bunk, “…No.”

~~~

The mafia boss thrust his massive length into the sweet little omega’s pussy. Her soft mewls filled the gold lined dinning hall with her sweet sound. This only seemed to spur him on.

“Yeah?” He thrust a little harder, “You like when I maim the men who hurt you? You like feeling their blood on my hands?” He nuzzled into her neck lightly teasing her mating gland with his fang.

Elina suddenly clenched down at his words and he smirked knowing thats exactly what his little princess liked.

“Mmm I like that too Caspian.” Y/N chewed on her finger nail finally getting past the enemies to lovers portion and right into the good stuff. Reaching down for her water mug, Y/n suddenly felt a painful knot form in her abdomen.

With a grunt you put down your holonovel and rubbed at your stomach feeling the pain settle. With a deep breath you tried picking up your book again, but the movement caused another one to tear right through your muscles. You yelped and forced yourself into a sitting position.

“No. No. No.” You whispered trying to massage the pain away.

“Please no.” You begged but the dull pain was starting to become something more sinister. The heat started to emanate from the pain and spread throughout your body giving you a flush. You suddenly were uncomfortable in your little sleep set. You couldn’t get further enough away from the blankets on your cot and opted to curl up on the floor absorbing the cold steel floor desperate for relief.

~~~

Hunter was having a relatively boring dream when his senses started to draw him back to the land of the living.

He couldn’t help but raise his nose in the air while he blinked awake trying to follow the deliciously sweet scent. He barely had his eyes open when a gut wrenching yowl rattled the entire ship.

Suddenly Crosshair was shot up in the darkness holding his blaster trying to figure out what startled him.

“What was that?” Wrecker’s voice croaked from the floor.

Crosshair rubbed his eyes looking around. Everyone was sat upright listening carefully when another more pained warble made the hair stand up on the back of their necks.

“Y/N…” Hunter said looking at their closed door knowing she was just on the other side of the hall surely in pain.

“It started.” Echo laid back down using his pillow to cover his ears.

“It seems she’s… in heat.” Tech searched for his glasses.

“What do we do?” Wrecker asked concerned.

“Nothing.” Hunter groused and laid back down, “Go back to sleep.”

Another whine echoed making Wrecker tense, “She sounds like in pain shouldn’t we help her?”

“That’s the point idiot.” Crosshair snapped while he relaxed back down on his side staring at the wall.

Wrecker just grumbled to himself and forced himself to ignore pip’s desperate cries.

~~~

“Kriff.” You hissed and writhed on the floor feeling the unbearable heat terrorize your entire body. In this moment you cursed the GAR with everything you had. You missed Layla, she wouldn’t have ever let this happen to you. Instead the universe just had to crash land you on this hellscape of a planet with 5 devastatingly attractive Alphas whose scent was beginning to permeate the blast door’s seal.

You moaned smelling the delicious alpha pheromones as they all danced around your little cage like the worst form of torture. The smell immediately triggered your slick response. The wetness soaked your panties and little sleep shorts ruining them totally.

You cried out praying one of the men would snap and take pity on you.

This was significantly less luxurious than the heat house on Naboo. What you would give to have knotting toys and a vibrator right now. You shoved your tiny hand into your pants bringing them to the source of your wetness and dragged them through your silky folds.

You bit back a moan when you found your clit and started to circle it just how you liked. Just like the last time, you came fast, but the burn didn’t ebb. You just growled wanting nothing more than to be stretched from the inside. You wanted a thick knot to cure your pain.

You writhed as another wave of cramps hit and you let out a scream.

~~~

Hunter had held out longer than he thought we could have. He at least made it to sunrise before he couldn’t take listening to her suffering anymore. It was literally his biology to service an omega. Listening to her helpless sounds was making him feel ill and the rock hard boner in his pants wasn’t helping either. Her cries were so tempting. He tried to cover his ears but it was like a siren’s call. He knew that was the point, but it didn’t make it easier to hear especially because he could hear way more than the others. He could hear her panting, her silenced moans, the way her fingers squelched as she tried desperately to fill herself to dull the pain. It was a torture like no other.

“I can’t take this.” Hunter said throwing himself over the side of his bunk and exited the ship. He noted how the others hadn’t gone back to sleep either. How could they?

When he passed by the door, he heard the way she gasped and crawled over to the door trying to listen to his footsteps. Her desperate whines turned into sultry cooes trying to lure him closer to her. She was lost to the heat. He could tell from her cute little sounds, and the way he could smell her slick from the hatch door. She was slipping deeper and deeper by the minute.

With a bit of willpower, he continued outside hearing her crying fade and turn back into suffering wails.

He huffed and sat down on the hatch steps feeling on edge. He shoved his hands over his ears trying to down her out. He knew the others were starting to be affected, even their scents started to spike in response to the distressed omega. It wouldn’t be long before they were in rut too.

~~~

It was time for Echo to feed you. He seemed to be the only one not affected by the now pungent smell. The others resorted to fleeing outside the ship like Hunter had hours ago. Echo was obviously the only one permitted to open your door to make sure you were eating and could use the fresher.

“Hey Y/N?” Echo knocked on the blast door.

He just heard a small sound letting him know you were in there, “I got you some dinner and thought you could stretch your legs?”

“Alpha?” She rasped coming nearer.

Echo used his special pass code to open the door letting it slide open to reveal you absolutely drenched in sweat and shaking on your knees on the bare floor. He knelt down holding your food tray setting it down gently in front of you. You peered up at him with your massively dilated eyes. He sighed knowing how painful all this must be for you.

“Please Echo.” You whined reaching out for him grabbing his arm. He looked down at your flushed wrist feeling its heat on his skin. He leaned forwards to press his palm to your forehead making you preen. Your skin was hot making him a bit hesitant. He was really hoping you weren’t in any kind of health predicament because of this. He’s personally never seen an omega suffer through a heat alone. His partners had always been cared for and it had never gotten to this point. He was a little distressed looking at your current state. It felt wrong. What little part of him still carried the Alpha instincts, felt for you. He wanted to comfort you but knew it couldn’t do any good.

“I’ll take you to the fresher when you finish eating.” He said backing up making you drop with wrist with a pout.

“I’m not hungry.” You sulked.

“I know hun, but you have to eat something or you’ll get sick.” He reasoned.

“But…I-I…” You chewed your lip anxiously.

“Y/N,” He sat back with a more stern voice said, “Eat your dinner.”

“Can I use the fresher first.” You tried to negotiate.

“Fine.” He sighed standing up to assist you in standing, “But then you’re going to eat right after this, you haven’t eating anything in 24 hours.”

You just nodded and let him assist you to the fresher. Once inside, he left you to your devices to use the toilet and turn on the shower to cold. Once inside the shower, you keened feeling the freezing water soothe your burning skin. You tried your best to wash the suds over your hair and skin trying to clean yourself to the best of your ability despite the grogginess.

Echo handed you a fresh towel from a crack in the door letting you dry off and pull on fresh clothes he had set out.

You wobbled back to the room seeing the plate of food on the floor you had neglected and internally sighed. You didn’t want to eat. It didn’t sound good. Instead you wanted an alpha, a really really strong alpha. One that would scent you and fill you up so good. Better than that dumb food.

“Y/N?” Echo eyed the tray, “Remember what you promised?”

You pouted, “Echo please I’m not hungry.”

He just rubbed his face getting frustrated and grumpy.

“Can I have something to nest with?” You asked giving him your best begging eyes, “The floor is cold.”

He sighed and got up leaving you to glare at the steaming rations. When he came back he had every cargo/moving blanket he could scrounge up along with a few pieces of your clothing. He set them down presenting them to you and you chirped happily taking the fabrics from him with greed.

“Now will you eat?” He was getting annoyed.

You ignored him and started fussing around with the blankets rubbing the slightly rough material on your face trying to place them just right. It was making you a bit feral trying to place them correctly in the corned furthest from the door.

You heard the door slide shut behind you letting you know that Echo had abandoned his attempt to get you to eat something. You smiled finally feeling like you were getting somewhere. You wiped your sweat from your forehead and continued rubbing your scent all over the new nest.

Unexpectedly, the door slid open again and you spun around at being disturbed. This time, Echo wasn’t alone. Next to him stood Crosshair, who looked a bit crossed.

“Alpha.” You stood to walk over to him. His delicious smell was making you hazey and you practically tried to throw yourself at him. Crosshair came to save you…

“Stop.” His tone made you freeze on the spot. Your body started to vibrate the longer you scented him and stared into his piercing eyes.

“Echo said you aren’t eating, ad’ika.” His voice was making more slick produce in your panties. You swore you saw his nose flare at the smell that was radiating off of you. The only thing you could process in your dumb omega mind was how good his knot would feel like inside you right about now.

“Omega.” He snarled. You whined. Alpha is upset.

“I’m not h-hungry.” You whispered casting your eyes down to his boots.

“You will eat and you will finish that entire glass of water do you understand?” He commanded with a stern voice you weren’t used to. But man, did it do something to your instincts. You nearly fell to your knees pulling the tray into your lap. His alpha tone was like nothing you had ever heard before, and it sounded so so good.

“Yes, Alpha.” You said picking up the spork and shoving the first bite of food into your mouth, when you swallowed you took the tooka mug of water chugged the liquid not realizing how thirsty you had actually become. You looked up at the two Alphas desperate for their approval. Crosshair just gave you a little nod wanting you to continue.

“Thank you.” Echo whispered.

Crosshair grunted trying to keep himself in check. Even though he was engineered to have inhuman levels of self control and patience, somehow seeing you kneeling on the floor desperately trying to finish your plate to please him was making his pants tighten. The alpha in him was desperate to take your pain away. Echo had worried them when he said you were refusing to eat, he asked Crosshair to give the command knowing he’d be able to control himself for at least a little. He still was upset about your weight when you had come back from Naboo. Those karking droids couldn’t take care of you as well as a partner could. He knew he had no other choice but to step in.

“I’m done Alpha.” You said sweetly placing the tray down hoping he’d give you a reward.

“Good girl.” Crosshair praised watching your eyes light up as Echo took the tray away, “Now you’re going to eat everything Echo gives you, do you understand?”

She suddenly pouted realizing he wasn’t staying.

“Omega?” He raised a brow.

You nodded letting him know you understood.

Then to your chagrin, they closed and locked the door once again. You gave an anxious whine hoping they’d come back, but when the door remained closed despite your hopefully thinking, you resigned to the nest on the floor.

~~~

“She ate.” Crosshair joined the others in the makeshift tent they created outside. The others visibly relaxed.

Crosshair noticed Hunter’s cheeks turning pink as he seemed to be locking his vision onto the floor… the little omega must be trying to get herself off again he thought. Hopefully she’d settle down soon and sleep leaving them all to toil in the increasing rut symptoms.

“Is it getting hotter?” Wrecker tried fanning himself.

“You’re in rut Wrecker.” Tech bit out yanking at his own collar.

“Argh!” The giant groaned.

Hunter shifted uncomfortably noting the near painful bulge in his pants. That damn omega was making his entire system feel like it was on the brink of short circuiting. He was starting to get a little anxious on top of his agitation. It had never felt like this before…granted he didn’t ever let it progress like this…

“I’m so…” Wrecker stood up and pushed his fist into the nearest rock, “Argh!”

Pieces of red earth went flying everywhere.

“Wrecker!” Hunter snapped, “Go rub one out, thats an order!”

The giant just stomped away out into the distance to relive himself.

“I’ll admit, this is beginning to feel unbearable.” Tech slumped against the rock he was leaning on to stare up at the night sky.

“Imagine how Pip feels.” Echo sighed hoping to get some shut eye. She was being uncharacteristically quiet.

So much so, that after a bated breath, the others perked up their heads including Hunter trying to figure out why it was so silent.

Then there was a loud moan breaking the silence and they continued on knowing she was fine.

“This is cruel.” Crosshair crossed his arms looking at Hunter, “You didn’t see her.” His disapproval had been known since it had started.

“You don’t think I know that?” Hunter snarled, “But what the fuck are we supposed to do?”

“Go fuck her!” Crosshair leered.

“We cannot do that.” Hunter shook his head despite how much his body agreed with Crosshair.

“So you’re going to let her suffer like this for six more days?” Crosshair rolled his eyes at his stupidly moral brother, “This is cruel to her and you know it.”

“Since when do you give a fuck about her?” Hunter narrowed his eyes challengingly.

“I’ve always given a fuck about her.” He bared his teeth, “Like you said, she’s pack!”

Hunter just stared at his little brother. While Crosshair may be harsh and unyielding, Hunter couldn’t ignore the tiny soft spot Pip had carved out into his stone cold facade. It was the smaller things, Crosshair brining her stuff, keeping an eye on her wherever they may be, the gentle way he holds her when she’s in need, the bastard still treated her like shit out of jealousy, but that didn’t change the fact that Hunter did in fact see it.

“Alright everyone calm down.” Echo put a hand up in the air, “You’re hormones are taking over.”

Tech decided to stand up to stretch, the clay earth was dampening his trousers making him cringe. He really would prefer to be on Kashyyyk right about now, at least there they had wood for a fire and fresh meat. He decided it would be best for him to also find a secluded space to relieve himself before the frustration became too much.

“Then there were three.” Crosshair closed his eyes again trying to focus on anything else besides the throbbing in his pants.

Echo cleared his throat, “I agree with Crosshair.”

“What?” Both the Sargent and the sniper said at once.

Echo just looked at Hunter, “I already feel guilty about leaving her at that heat center, granted she had way more available to her, but this is wrong. You didn’t see her Hunter, she’s delirious.”

“No! We’re not subjecting her to that.” Hunter growled.

“What if she chooses?” Echo said diplomatically.

“It doesn’t change the fact that eventually she’s going to not be in heat and have to live with us. Then she’s definitely going to transfer to the wolf pack. She’ll hate us.”

Crosshair growled menacingly at the mention of the 104th.

“I don’t think thats the case.” Echo tapped his chin.

“What do you mean?” Hunter questioned.

“I just… look she hasn’t said anything to me, but I have eyes. She’s not oblivious to the way you four have been slowly courting her. She knows none of you are going to make a move without threatening to upset the others so she ignores it.” Echo sighed, “I just don’t think she’ll be as upset at you think Hunter.”

“I still don’t think it’s the right thing to do. She said she hasn’t had a heat in two years. Clearly she’s not interested.”

“Well… that’s not entirely true.” Echo smirked.

Hunter raised a curious brow.

“She had a bit of a thing with the captain stationed on Ryloth, before she transferred to you.” Echo continued, “It was after she was stranded in that village with the droids. The captain had been the first to find her with the pup. Everyone swore he fell in love at first sight. The lovesick idiot couldn’t stay away from her.”

“They were in a relationship?” Hunter prodded he fought back the jealousy flaring in his chest… with a reg?

“No, no.” Echo shook his head, “Just an arrangement. When she had a breakout heat, he’d be the on she went to.”

“Which captain?” Crosshair snapped.

“Howzer.” Echo hid a cheeky smile.

“Was he assigned to helping Cham Syndulla?” Hunter asked.

“Thats the one.” Echo confirmed.

They sat there in contemplative silence. Wrecker and Tech were making their way back at this point, pink cheeked, and sweaty.

“So, how would this work?” Hunter thumbed his chin, “How does this work without causing a massive problem?”

“Are you worried about her or the others?” Echo asked.

“Both.” Hunter answered, “I think it’s obvious we all like her.”

“We let her choose.” Crosshair repeated Echo.

“Then whoever it is, helps her, and everyone else agrees to be civil.” Echo added.

“And what about you?” Crosshair raised a brow.

Echo chuckled, “I don’t know if you noticed but…” He gestured down at his body, “Not an alpha anymore. Barely a human at that. I’m not affected by her smell or noise.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Wrecker had an idea but he wanted to make sure he wan’t imagining it.

“We’re putting Pip out of her misery.” Hunter shook his head unable to shake the feeling that this was a bad idea.

“Are you suggesting what I think you are?” Tech was a bit in shock that his brother caved like this.

Hunter just looked to Crosshair who spoke up, “Let’s get this over with.”

They got up, and made their way inside the ship all filing into the main cabin where Echo scooted past them to start entering the access code to Wrecker’s bunk.

The Alphas were squirming in their shoes in the presence of such strong pheromones. Her scent was everywhere and it was thick they could practically taste it on their tongues.

The door unlocked and slid open causing Echo to turn his eyes up to the ceiling. Inside, Y/N was nearly naked writhing on the floor as more cramps coursed through her little body.

~~~

“Alpha?” You whispered feeling how hoarse your voice had become.

“Just me tiny.” Echo folded his arms looking away trying to give you a little dignity.

“Are you making me eat again?” You asked sitting up to look at him.

“No Ad’ika… can you put on some pants?” He cleared his throat.

You got up on wobbly legs and grabbed a pair of panties and pulled them on with an agitated huff. Had he been still a normal reg, he wouldn’t have ever been able to resist such a pretty thing like you. He was starting to wonder how Howzer didn’t seal the deal and claim you when he had you like this.

“Thank you.” He sighed and looked back down at you. You noticed him looking to his side and wondered what he was seeing. “I’m going to let you out. The others have agreed to help you on one condition.”

“An alpha?” Your eyes suddenly lit up and excitement boiled in your tummy.

“Mhmm.” He nodded, “They’ve agreed to play nice, but you have to choose okay?”

“Okay.” You slowly made your way out of the confinement space raising your nose in the air smelling the delicious scent of purebred alpha. When you turned into the galley your scent spiked in excitement. Echo helped you stop swaying as you entered the main cabin. You let out a gasp seeing your pretty alphas all in one space.

“Alright, you got your pick of the litter.” Echo nudged you forward.

“It’s okay Ad’ika.” Hunter invited you to come closer.

You couldn’t help but feel the thrill of seeing them having to adjust themselves at the sight of you. You stepped closer taking Hunter’s sturdy hand.

“I have to choose?” You asked with doe eyes. He nodded.

You leaned forwards bravely placing your hands on his firm chest. The warmth was making you shiver. You brought your nose forward and pressed into his neck. He smelled as good as he did back on Anakin’s Venator. You shamelessly crawled into his lap straddling him. He let out a surprised yelp feeling your warmth on his crotch. He nearly collapsed when you affectionately rubbed your cheek up against his feeling his stubble along his chin. You repeated on the other side scenting him, you were getting frustrated with how he kept his hands off of you respectfully. You wanted him to grab at the tiny scraps of clothing you were still wearing and tear them off already.

“Alright sweetheart come’re.” Crosshair was getting jealous and lifted you off of his brother. You purred liking his dominance. He towered over you as he leaned against the dining table. You fisted his shirt in your hands as his hands wandered your back letting you explore him. You really liked how his presence dwarfed yours. His smell was similar to Hunter’s but just slightly different making him uniquely Crosshair. You stood on your tiptoes to reach his neck, he took pity on you and leaned down slightly to help. Your mouth instantly started to water and you opened your mouth to stick out your tongue to get a taste when his hand immediately fisted into hair to wrench your head back.

“Ah ah ah.” He chided, “Be good and follow Echo’s rules.”

You pouted before relenting, ignoring the rush of slick sliding down your thighs.

Next was Tech. He shifted slightly when you approached. You stood between his parted legs and bent over giving Hunter a perfect view of your dripping core and soaked panties. The poor Alpha gripped his chair so hard the metal probably bent.

“Hi Tech.” You smiled sweetly bending one knee to place it between his legs thinking he’d let you. Instead he took you by surprise and grabbed your neck keeping you from making your move. He raised a brow and tilted his head slightly in a domineering way you didn’t expect from the pilot it sent a rush through you.

“You heard Crosshair.”

Crosshair snorted watching Tech control your movements, it shocked him too.

“Yes sir.” You whispered letting him guide you to his scent gland. You shifted to get a good smell letting your hands wander his shoulders a bit hoping he’d let you run your fingers through is hair. When you tried, he leaned into your touch giving you the cue. You greedily let your nails scrape against his scalp and you felt the way he was fighting back a groan. When you were satisfied, you then turned to Wrecker who was watching every single micro movement you made.

“Wrek.” You smiled and crawled over Tech to sit in his lap. They didn’t stop you when you climbed over Tech to straddle the giant. Wrecker placed a massive hand on the small of your back making you shiver with his warmth. His scent was similar just like his brothers, but each of them had tiny notes of something different. They were equally delicious and you could help yourself but to grind down on his lap making him smile and moan.

“Omega…” Hunter warned.

“She’s a greedy little thing isn’t she?” Crosshair raised a brow.

“So?” Echo asked looking at you.

“I can’t choose.” You pouted pushing yourself into Wrecker who happily let you. You rubbed your forehead against his neck liking his scent. You hadn’t really been able to smell any of them before, not with your implants intact. But now, ugh it was so good. Your entire body trembled with excitement being around so many perfect alphas.

“What?” They all asked. That’s never happened before. Usually omegas can pick out one scent that they prefer.

“I don’t wanna- ah!” You clenched weakly around Wrecker as another wave of cramps pushed through. You let out a pained whine, “Help me. Please!” You begged to the room.

“Y/N we can’t help you until you tell us what you want.” Tech said struggling to control himself. Wrecker rubbed soothing hands up and down your back in an effort to relax you again.

You squirmed against Wrecker and tucked your face into his neck again mumbling.

They just looked confused before turning to Hunter.

He looked up at Crosshair then Tech, “She said she wants… all four.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Taglist: @substantial-exposure @rains-on-kamino @minimissmoo @z-and-the-batboys @aynavaano @9902sgirl

#abo #crosshair #hunter #wrecker #tech #smut #the bad batch #star wars #clones #99 #wolffe #commander wolffe #howzer #omega

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grampsoninspace · 1 year

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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euphoriacafe · 5 months

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Poll Time because I need help and can't decide for myself.

This is for this story prompt since no one decided to do it :(

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nikscribbles · 1 year

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Shower Howzer

Full cut on Patreon

#star wars #clone wars #captain howzer #tbb howzer #the bad batch #get your smut on

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jagawriterr · 2 years

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This is blog 18+. If you a minor, you shouldn't be here Latest upate: 24 I 07 I 24

If you have some questions, or requests, my inbox is open.

Fives Ice Wasteland, Breakdown, Breakdown part 2, Breakfast, Spring time Howzer Attraction, Jealous Asajj Ventress My enemy

Preassure, Workout, All hail the king Tonight at the city, Assassin, Fuck me hard Shower sex, My preety little girl

Peter Hale Carying, Alfa Simon 'Ghost' Riley You're mine, Stay with me, Eyes on you König Mein Liebe, Hunger Bucky Barnes Library mess, Storeroom Miguel O'hara Say my name, Ride me, Dirty talk Personal trainer I part 2 I part 3 I Never Again Tamlin A dream

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neon-junkie · 2 years

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Howzer x gn!Reader - Pillow Talk

A little drabble where your Captain is questioning if his performance was good. First time nerves, and all that. 600 words.

A tender kiss is placed on your cheek before Howzer finally rolls off, letting out a grunt as his head hits the pillow. His toned chest is rising and falling with urgency, as is your own, worn out from an intense evening of 'planning.'

That's what it was meant to be, planning a series of attacks that have since slipped your mind. Something was bound to happen - you and your Captain left alone in a room together, with feelings so obvious that your squad constantly teases both of you about it.

You wouldn't be surprised if they set you up for this!

Regardless, you're happy that the bubble has finally burst. It's a relief, stress off your shoulders, and you express how chuffed you are by rolling onto your side, and placing your hand on Howzer's bicep.

However, Howzer doesn't respond. Instead, his eyes remain shut as he steadies his racing heart with a series of deep breaths. When his eyes do finally open, they fixate on the ceiling before meeting your gaze, and you instantly pick up on his worry, expressed through slanted brows and a sheepish glisten in his eyes.

"Is everything alright?" you question, and prop yourself up on your elbow, looking down at him sprawled out in bed.

"I don't know," Howzer replies with a shrug. "Is it?"

Your head tilts in confusion, "what's wrong?" you urge, wanting him to spit out whatever's on the tip of his tongue.

Howzer's eyes wander the room as he swallows, soon returning to your sights, although he's struggling to maintain eye contact. He pauses, and then takes his time to question, "was that... okay?"

"Okay?" you repeat with a quirked brow, expressing your confusion through your tone. "You mean... the sex?"

"Yeah," Howzer nods without missing a beat. "Was it... alright for you?"

You can't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Alright?" you repeat his words. "Howzer, that was incredible!"

His eyes widen, and a rosy tint rises to his cheeks. The hands on his chest move up to the edge of the duvet, and you watch as he subconsciously begins picking at it. "Are... are you sure?" he asks once more, as if you're about to laugh in his face, then leave.

"Yes," you confirm with a nod. "I'm more than sure," you sweetly smile, and begin trailing your fingertips along his bicep, over his toned chest, dancing in the light layer of hair. "Why do you ask?"

"I..." Howzer's words trail off. This time, he's the one letting out a chuckle. "It's just been a while, alright? I was worried that I underperformed."

"Howzer," you catch his gaze, and pause before continuing. "I'm the one who underperformed!"

Howzer lets out a "phfft!" as he rolls onto his side, one hand grabbing your shoulder in an attempt to bring you back down to the bed. His eyes meet yours, and the hand on your shoulder relaxes, running up and down your arm in a soothing manner. "You definitely didn't underperform," Howzer informs you.

"And you didn't either!" you smile.

Howzer chuckles along with you, his chest and shoulders relaxing as a sign of relief. His cheeks are still rosy, but no longer from embarrassment. He's content, and proud of himself for communicating on an issue that his mind had conjured up.

As a thank you, Howzer leans forwards to capture your lips with his own. He even has the courtesy to mutter, "thank you," in between kisses. Your fingertips entwine in his short hair, and before you know it, Howzer is rolling you onto your back, his broad form looming over you as he deepens the kiss.

Maybe it's time for some more planning?

#tbbwriting #swwriting #captain howzer #star wars #the bad batch #captain howzer x reader #captain howzer x you #tbb #sw #reader insert #gn!reader #nsft #smut

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oceansssblue · 3 months

Text

100CELEB VOTING RESULTS!!!

Hi guys! Voting period has ended, and without any more delay, here are the 10 winning ideas I'll be writing next!

– prompt4. Angel&demons AU

– prompt5. Super powers&fantasy AU

– prompt6. Historic Period AU

– prompt7. Sex worker/pornstar

– prompt8. Pirates AU

– prompt9. Mermaids AU

– prompt14. Telepathy

– prompt15. Arranged marriage/fake dating

– prompt 17. Prince&servant AU

– prompt 22. Share heat/one bed

I'm so exciteeed! I've already got most of this thought through and a plan for each in my head!

-I've actually finished writing prompt 22 already with Wrecker, which I will publish tomorrow.

-Prompt 4 is going to be with Echo. I've already sketched the whole story (it's going to be a multipart) and the AU I've thought of is going to be so interestinggg i'm so excited to share it w u!

- I'm opened to write any pairings you like for the rest of the prompts. You can sugest a clone either in this comment section or send a dm or request vox. I will also publish an individual post for each prompt with a list of clones you may vote for.

That said, stay tunned! I will be opening pairing votes and I will be publishing this stories throughout the summer, so make sure to check my account from time to time.

All this stories will be tagged with "100blueprompt". Let me know if you want to be tagged in all/any of them!

Thanks for following me and interacting. See u around!

Xx,

Blue.

YOU CAN FIND THE VOTING POSTS HERE:

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zoeykallus · 2 years

Note

I looooove your HCs so much!! Could I make a request for the batch + howzer and Rex reacting to walking in on the female reader using a toy on herself? 🥺👉🏽👈🏽

Hot hot hot!

The Bad Batch + Rex + Howzer x Fem!Reader Spicy HC's - Caught In The Act

Warnings: Sexual Themes /Smut / Suggestive / 18+ / Toy Use / Masturbation / Mutual Pining /Oral Sex

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Summary: There are feelings between you and your beloved clone that neither of you has acted on yet. There is sexual tension, but neither of you has addressed it yet. In the evening, after a long day and a refreshing shower, you feel that you need some relief. While you are relaxing, your beloved clone walks in on you.

PS: I made the Marauder a bigger ship with cabins/rooms for everyone. This is simply more practical. And for some reason Rex and Howzer are on the Marauder too. Reasons.

This one took me so freaking long x.x

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Hunter

You are fresh out of the shower and the thought of him, taking a shower at the same time in his cabin is getting you heated. You grab one of your favorite toys out of your little secret hiding place, lean back and start massaging your clit softly with the vibrating little helper. You are wet in no time, your clit swollen and your pussy clenching aorund nothing.

As you push the thick knob part into your entrance und the bend part on your clit, letting it vibrate and massage your most sensitive spots. Your mind is swimming in arousal and without thinking you moan his name, not just once but again and again imagining, his hands, fingers, tongue and cock.

He can smell your arousal in the main hall. Hunter can't help it, he knows it's you and he knows what you are doing. He get's hard under his armor.

Hunter standing in front of your cabin door, can hear your little moans. He's biting down on his lower lip, his pulse racing. He's making a bold decision.

The door opens and you gasp, for a moment frozen in your position, your legs wide open with your toy between them.

"Maker", Hunter mutters coming in. He's clearing his throat before he says, "Heard you say my name"

Your ears and face get hot, you feel like you should hide what you are doing but you don't.

And he is looking right where your toy is, he can see the wetness and the smell of your heat is overwhelming. Hunter wants to finger you, eat you out, fuck you silly, all at once.

"Wanna help me with this?", you ask almost meekly.

His eyes get dark, almost black, his pupils wide.

"Hell yes!"

This is going to be a long and hot night. Hunter will act out all his fantasies he ever had about you. Get ready to reach one climax after another.

Echo

As you push the thick knob part into your entrance and the bend part on your clit, letting it vibrate and massage your most sensitive spots. Your mind is swimming in arousal and without thinking you moan his name, not just once but again and again imagining, his hands, fingers, tongue and cock.

Poor sweet Echo. He heard your moans and totally misunderstood. Thinking you might be sick or in any kind of trouble, he barges in, ready to safe or help you.

He's blushing like hell when he stands there, staring at you, realizing the situation.

"Oh Maker!", he's muttering "I'm so sorry... I thought you need help"

Before you can really think about a suggestive reply to this, he hurries out of your room as if stung by a hornet.

Later that same night the tables have turned. You want to talk to him, about what happend. You don't want for him to feel bad about it and you don't want him to think you're angry or something like that.

As you knock on his door and walk in the same time. He's sitting on his bed, legs wide, his hard cock in his fist, next to him a bunch of pictures, of you. A collage of swimsuit pictures from last summer.

He hastily covers his privat parts with a nearby pillow.

You are amazed with his thick cock being hard, there is still enough blood left for his face to blush.

"It's not what it looks like", he says meekly.

"It looks like you are masturbating while looking at swimsuit pictures of me", you say softly with a little smirk.

He awkwardly clears his throat, "Okay, maybe it's exactly what it looks like"

"Walking in on me earlier got you heated up I guess"

"I'm really sorry... but the fact that you moaned my name when you... I couldn't help it. I swear I never done this before. Not like this anyway. I mean... oh boy..."

"Want me to help with this?", you ask and interrupt his stammering, pointing on the pillow he's holding over his hard cock.

"You mean... ? Really?"

Your smile get's a little wider.

"I'd love to"

Echo nods saying breathlessly, "Yes please..."

Wrecker

He heard you. Not sure what to make of it, he walks into your room, just to be safe.

"Mesh'la what are you...? Ooooh"

The gentle giant is standing there, looking at you. He can't help but stare.

After a while you ask, "Are you just going to stand there all night?"

"If you don't mind. I could watch this a little longer", he says with a smirk.

"What if I want you to help out a little?"

His smirk becomes a grin.

"Oh, Mesh'la, that's even better!"

He won't hesitate and come right to your side, stealing you a kiss, his big strong hands roaming over your body.

"I've always wanted to do that, ever since you first set foot on the Marauder," he murmurs between kisses and touches.

He is so strong but gentle, grabing you but never hurting you. It's so easy for him to pick you up and get you into a position he want's to have you in.

"Can I have a taste?" he asks, taking your toy away from you.

Heat is creeping up your face as you nod. With a smile he grabs your hips and pulls your lap up to his face, getting to work on your pussy with his tongue and lips.

You will not just moan but scream his name in arousal quite a few more times this night.

Tech

Totally absorbed in his Holopad, he doesn't really notice the sounds coming from your room. When he got out of the shower, he immediately picked up his Holopad again. The rest of the boys is out at the bar. Tech and you stayed behind. He thinks about asking you to watch a holo movie with him. He's got a crush on you, big time. He thinks this might be a great opportunity to get some time alone with you, maybe getting a little bit closer. Maybe he'd pick a horror movie, hoping you'd cuddle up to him, scared of the movie.

He's not thinking anything bad, casually knocking and walking right in before you could say anything. His gaze for the moment still on his holopad.

"Hey Y/N, would you like to....wooah"

Tech drops his holopad, it slips from his fingers and falls clattering to the floor. He can't help it, he's staring for a moment, looking at that toy between your wonderful thighs. Seeing the wetness between them makes his throat get dry and seems to be tighter, right after his pants get tighter too.

Finally, he manages to snap out of it. Hastily Tech picks up his holopad and looks to the side, blushing.

"Um, I was going to ask you if you wanna see a holo movie but I'm guessing now is not the time?"

He just remembers his goggles are still recording, he could look at what he just saw later to relief himself. Right after the thought crosses his mind he feels ashamed, but he knows he's going to do it anyway.

"Well we could, when I'm done here"

"That'd be nice", he says with a little to high pitch.

After awkwardly clearing his throat he tries to ask casually, "Would you mind if I um... If I watch you a bit? You know, out of curiosity. For scientific reasons."

You bite your lower lip before you answer, "I don'tmind"

His eyes behind his goggles get bigger, almost coming out of his head. he slowly walks deeper into the room, taking your desk chair to the foot end of your bunk to sit down there and have a good look at what you are doing.

You can see him lick his lips and study very attentively every little move you make. You know he would love to touch you, explore you, it's written on his forehad. But he's not saying anyhting, just watching.

"Why don't you take off your cod piece?", you ask him suggestively.

Tech is blushing again.

He stammers, "But... but I'm... my um"

"You're hard?"

"My... um genitalia is erect, yes"

You smile.

"Good. Let me see. It's just fair. Don't you think?"

Tech gulps, his heart is in his throat, he's horny like hell but nervous too.

"I guess it is"

Crosshair

He's pretty sure he heard that right. You moaned his name. Crosshair stands in front of your room's door for a minute or two, thinking about going in or letting you do your thing. The sounds you make are so tempting, the image in his mind so hot.

He's been thinking of you this way for quite some time now.

In the end he can't resist, hearing another moan out of your mouth, saying his name so sweetly.

He expects you to shyly touch yourself under the covers and is pretty surprised to see you with your legs wide open using a toy. The very first moment he is so baffled he's not saying a word, just staring.

Your eyes meet, than his travel back to between your legs where the toy is vibrating and your wetness clearly for him to see. Crosshair is getting hard under his cod piece. A little smirk shows on his lips.

"Want to feel something real down there? After all you are already imagining me between you legs. Or why else would you moan my name?"

Heat rises in your cheeks and ears. He's got a point.

"What if I say yes?"

His smirk gets wider.

"Then I'm going to show you a real good time, Mesh'la"

You are going to moan and scream his name that night a lot.

Rex

He's not quite sure what he heard as he walks past your room. It was a moan, clearly, it was your room and your voice. But are you in trouble or did that really sound more like lust? Tentatively he knocks on your door.

"Cyar'ika? Are you all right? Can I come in?"

For a small moment he hears nothing and his hand was already wandering to the opening mechanism of the door. Then he hears your voice.

"I'm fine"

"Are you sure? I'd honestly rather just check on you for a minute if that's okay?"

He hears you chuckle.

"Just as you wish. But enter at your own risk"

Rex has no idea what you mean by that, but he's about to find out. He opens the door and freezes in mid-motion. His eyes grow wide.

"Oh… sorry I uh…"

He stammers but for a long moment he just can't look away. So sexy the way your legs are spread, the way your delicate flower between your thighs shimmers wetly under the overhead light of your room. Rex just wants to lick you out.

He pulls himself together as best he can.

"I see you're doing fine"

"I told you so"

Rex nods, blinks, and tears himself away from the sight to look you in the face. He feels how hot his cheeks are, he knows he's probably blushing and is a little annoyed about it. But the adorable smile on your lips makes him forget everything.

He stands there for a while, not knowing what to do.

"You have several options", you tell him insinuatingly "You stay, sit down and watch me. Another option would be you touch yourself while you watch me. Or else, you touch me"

You can see him swallow.

"Mesh'la, which would you like best?"

"Touch me," you ask him softly.

Howzer

He rushes into the room, ready to fight and tend to wounds, only to find that your moan is of a completely different nature than he thought. Completely different in nature.

"Oh dear…"

What he sees surprises him, to say the least.

"Howzer?!"

He just notices he's staring. A little embarrassed, he hastily turns around.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to barge in like that. I heard you moaning my name and thought…." he interrupts himself, thinks for a moment and finally mumbles, "Wait a minute, you were moaning my name"

He slowly turns to face you.

"Mesh'la" he says with a small smile "Are you thinking about me when you touch yourself?"

You feel yourself getting all warm, you can hardly resist his smile and that expressive look in his eyes. You melt under his gaze. He comes closer to the bed and asks, "Do you dream about it?"

As you shyly nod, his smile turns into a small smirk.

"My gorgeous lady, I would be happy to make your dreams come true, if you allow me to".

One of his fingers gently caresses your heated cheek. He is so close, his gaze so intense but in an intimate, loving way , his touch so gentle. For a moment, words and voice fail you.

He breathes a kiss on your temple and whispers so close to your ear that you can feel his breath, "Tell me, tell me to make your dreams come true".

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

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lune-de-miel-au-paradis · 11 months

Text

Masterlist

Minors and younglings this blog is not for you!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it!

Darth Maul x OC Nina Cerasus- Work in progress

Teaser

Meet my OC Nina Cerasus:

Info dump part 1.

Deep dive part 2.

Deep dive part 3.

About her disease HCM and Authors note on that

Nina' outfits and style mood boards

Story:

Antecedent

Pale as the moon, eyes full of stars and a broken heart

Red as crimson, green as jade and gold confetti rain

Thoughts from the shadows - Maul's pow

The old villa, rain of shooting stars and the old legend

No better version that I could pretend to be tonight - Maul's pow

No better version that I could pretend to be tonight - Nina’s pow

Delineation

Face to face - Maul's pow

Your magnetic field - Nina's pow

Power of names

The attack

Mind games

Collision

Oncoming

Nodus

Vertex

Closure

Mood board

Teaser reel video

Commander Wolffe x OC Nina Cerasus (Star-crossed season 2 clone wars era)- Coming soon

Chapters

Moodboards

Din Djarin x OC Vesper - Coming soon

Captain Howzer x OC Anfisa - Coming soon

ARC Trooper Echo x OC Willow - Coming soon

One shots

Commander Wolffe x reader

Who do you belong to part 1 -smuty romance

Who do you belong to part 2 - smuty romance vampire! reader

What if?

Jedi!Maul x Oc - Coming soon

Senator!Maul x reader - Coming soon

Arranged marriage Prince Maul x Princess reader - Coming soon

#nika's masterlist #masterlist #romance #series #moon and stars #clone wars #smut #angst #fictional characters #morally grey characters #oc nina #oc anfisa #oc vesper #oc willow #what if ?#darth maul #commander wolffe #captain howzer #reader insert

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moonstrider9904 · 2 years

Text

Pairing: Howzer x Fem!Reader

Tags/Warnings: Explicit sexual content. 18+. Alcohol and light drunkenness, more on the tipsy side. Drunk sex was consented and planned prior in sobriety. Cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, brief overstimulation, alcohol effects, creampie.

Word count: 1.1k

Kinktober Day 10: Drunk sex

Note: Yes, this is a repost. if you reblog this, please do not label as alcohol addiction. This one shot does not depict alcohol addiction and if it gets labelled as that on top of the sexual and mature labels I am already using accordingly, my post gets blocked by anyone who reblogs it and fewer people see it. I'm tagging tw alcohol and cw alcohol for anyone who doesn't want to see alcohol themes, please filter your tags accordingly.

In the time you’d been dating him, Howzer had never struck you as the adventurous type. Subtlety was one of his strongest abilities, and that was exactly what he’d used to get the idea out in the open.

A small gesture with his eyes when you’d been sharing a drink, a faint wiggle of his eyebrows followed by a suggestive smile that you often wouldn’t see in the otherwise formal, steadfast captain. You still remembered the disbelief with which you’d met his proposal, a reaction that had made him laugh initially, but he remained serious about it.

The curiosity was making you itch.

One cup was downed, and then another, and then a third one. You’d both waited for the effect to kick in, making conversation in the meantime, seemingly innocent while your hands under the table told a different tale. Looking you in the eyes with his chivalry, Howzer trailed his hand up your thigh, eventually making its way down to where your behind met the seat. You, in turn, teased him by brushing your foot up his shin, an act that wouldn’t have been that dauntless had it not been for your hand reaching for his inner thigh, obscenely close to the growing bulge in his pants.

All the while, you had a charming, innocent little smile on your lips.

Soon, you felt lightheaded. You felt the buzz around your arms and your legs, and though it took you longer to admit, you felt the same rush of sparks flowing to your crotch. You were putting less effort into remaining collected and accepted that the cups of wine were having their effect on you—nevertheless, you’d been expecting that. Howzer had been too.

He felt the same. The bulge in his pants was larger now, aching in the tightness of the confine. Howzer’s beautiful brown eyes met yours, clouded with the slightest hint of a daze, but a smile curved his lips when you reached for his hand and began standing up. You’d taken in more wine than usual in a short time, but you were able to walk yourself to the bedroom with Howzer following closely behind you, and all the way, you smiled at the tingling that flew over your body.

You giggled when you reached the bed and you got on, taking off your shoes and lying flat on your back with your legs already spread.

“What a great idea, captain,” you emphasized the word, knowing what it did to him.

“Gods,” Howzer chuckled, climbing on the bed. “You’re still completely sure about this, right?”

“Yes,” you smiled. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.”

Howzer flashed you his charming grin once more. “Then I won’t take any longer.”

He lay on top of you and kissed you, instantly fanning the flames of his passion and deepening the make out. You could taste the wine on his tongue and feel as the distinctive little sparks shot faster around your body, and the effect heightened when you rubbed your hips against Howzer’s thigh.

Howzer let out a low groan, sounding beautiful in his already gorgeous voice. It made you sink into the mattress beneath you, your eyes closing as the heavenly sensations coursed through your body. Howzer’s hands traveled freely over your body, tracing delicately over every curve which you already knew he loved; he could always make you feel more beautiful than you already were.

You then felt compelled to meet Howzer’s gaze to let him know it was time and to remind him he could do with you as he pleased. His features softened when you looked upon him, and with a hint of a smile, Howzer leaned in and kissed you with the same fervor, moaning at the liquid heat that ran through his veins.

“I want you, ner cyare…” Howzer whispered onto your skin as his hands delicately slid the fabric of your clothes off your body.

“I’m yours, Howzer,” you whispered, bordering on a whimper when Howzer set himself between your legs and removed your panties.

You heard him give one more laugh before his lips crashed onto your cunt and feasted hungrily on you. You moaned long and ecstatic at the sensation, gripping on the bedsheets with your hand while your back arched. The buzz you’d felt earlier concentrated between your thighs, heightening everything Howzer could possibly make you feel.

“How…” You were about to say his name, but a deep whine cut you off. You rutted your hips against Howzer’s tongue, eager for more of that delicious friction, eager to see stars all around you.

You compared it to times when alcohol wasn’t a playing factor in your pleasure, and there was no denying that this was something else.

Amidst your thoughts, you came to realize that the mattress was rutting underneath you, a result of Howzer grinding his hips onto it in desperation. His excitement made you ravenous, and the thought of him wanting to be inside you so badly alone made a small, sharp wave of pleasure shoot up your body, making you shudder at what else was to come.

But Howzer was nothing if not selfless and kind, and you knew he wouldn’t entertain the idea of fucking you before he’d made you feel in heaven.

His tongue flicked even faster over your clit, sending you to your edge; a little more and that heat pooling in your pelvis would explode. Your short and breathy whines filled Howzer’s ears, prompting him to channel all of his craving onto you, and you soon felt two slender fingers slipping into your walls.

Your moaning was as loud as it could be. Your body squirmed, your free hand found Howzer’s hair and fisted the beautiful curls, and you hadn’t even reached your climax yet. Every second tipped you closer to that sweet ecstasy, and between the daze and the buzz, plus the idea of Howzer eating you out like a delicacy…

The time finally came when you lost yourself. Your body quaked as you repeated Howzer’s name, over and over only making him speed up rather than slow down. Your eyes rolled back, and you felt as the pleasure of your orgasm faded into something more, something greater, rendering your voice quiet as you could only continue to quiver in his grip.

Howzer then let you go, at times planting soft, delicate kisses onto your swollen cunt until he finally smiled up at you, breathless. You grinned brightly down at him, giving his hair another light caress before willing yourself to sit up.

You still felt some of that buzz running inside you.

“Sit back, Howzer,” you winked at him. “It’s your turn.”

#cw alcohol #tw alcohol #moon's 2022 kinktober #captain howzer x reader #tbb howzer x reader #tbb howzer smut #tbb howzer x reader smut #captain howzer x reader smut

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cloneloverrrrr · 1 year

Text

Ooh Captain Howzer baby your not far off my delicious Commander Wolffe 🥵🥵🥵🥵

#clone thot #commander wolffe #commander wolffe smut #commander wolffe thot #captain howzer sexy #captain howzer thot #captain howzer

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thespiritualfives · 1 year

Text

Espionage | HunterxOC Story: Ch 4

Chapter 4: Old friends reunited

No Warnings my lovelies

Pfp by @gt13tbbart

Character Artwork by xleintje

Widow wakes up to her wrist communicator going off, she groans in aggravation but knows it's Hunter checking in with her giving updates on how Anaxes is going. She sighs and blows air out with that sigh, and answers the comm. "Hey Serge, sorry about my appearance. I quite honestly forgot about the time difference." She said as she was sitting up on her cot and straightening her suit out "Heh you look no different than you normally do Widow" Hunter replies back with a smirk, she chuckles "What are you trying to say? I look like I roll out of bed every day? She replies. Hunter shakes his head "I mean I didn't say it!" He's now full on grinning at her 'trust your team' Widow recalls her conversation with Howzer from the day prior. She laughs at his quick remark catching her off guard, once she calms down from her laughing fit she's once again greeted with Hunter and his amused expression.

"How's Anaxes?" She questions the holo of Hunter in front of her. "It's been interesting I'll say that, we've already had to break up fights between th-" Widow interrupts "the 501st and our team?" Sending a small smirk at Hunter's way, he looked genuinely surprised. She said 'Our Team' she has never expressed to anyone that they are her team before until now. Widow looks at him with a silent knowing expression and he returns it. " I can't say I am too surprised. Let me guess Jesse was one of the main antagonists." Hunter lets out a breathy laugh "yeah that would be the very one" he remarks "But we have taken out an separatist cyber center, and there was a really odd signature communication coming from it." He pauses "Does the number 1409 mean anything to you?" Hunter questions her expectantly. Widows face shifts from laid back to serious. "I'm sorry, what number did you say?" She questions him, almost panicking, "That number means something to you." He states as a matter of fact looking at her holo image "Yeah, it's the CT number of a close friend of mine who died about a year and a half ago." She says sadly "But why that number specifically?" She questions "that's what we're trying to figure out, The Captain has a theory that he's set in and it's that Echo is alive." The Sergeant reveals to Widow.

She shakes her No gently "But that's impossible though, I was there that night he died. There was an explosion that no one could survive that killed Echo." She informs Hunter and then continues "Trust me nobody wishes more than me that Echo is alive. But I just can't bring myself to believe it." She finishes as she looks to Hunter once again, he's watching her every move, most importantly, he's watching her facial reaction. He can tell that this bothers her deeply. "Where did the frequency come from?" She asked Hunter, He studied her face once more and looks down briefly. As he looks back up "Skako Minor, we're leaving in a few moments" he says looking at her intently. "I'm sorry bu- no, no abso-" she stammers over her words "Hunter listen to me that is a Techno Union base, they are rumored to have dealings with the separatists!" She loudly whispers "I'm coming with you guys I can't ju-" she starts to ramble "Widow listen to me!" Hunter exclaims firmly, silencing the red haired spy "You're staying put, the boys and I can handle it. You're too close to the situation, not to mention you have the issue with the captain that you still need to address" he looks at her with a firm but somber expression "the last thing we need is for tension to be higher, no offense but I'm pretty sure things will get worse if you were to join us." He finishes. She looks at him with a defeated expression "Promise me one thing." She looks at him in his Holo blue eyes, Hunter nods his head for her to continue "Come back safely please. All of you." She begs quietly knowing that only Hunter could hear her. "We will. I promise." Hunter states. Widow hears whom she assumes is Rex in the background saying that it's time to head out, she sends a small smile to Hunter who gave her a returning one. "Remember to keep me posted once you all arrive." She quickly reminds him, he chuckles "Don't worry I will" they nodded to one another as the comm went dark.

'Shit' Widow thinks to herself 'Howzer you better be right about trusting them' she puts her face in her hands and just sits there for a minute, letting everything process. In a matter of a month she has found herself significantly attached to her crew and rather fond feelings of the commanding Officer of the crew. She knows that if anything were to happen to them, she would be devastated once again, but she's never been very good at controlling her emotions and her feelings when it comes to these men because she knows that they didn't ask to be created for war, she doesn't see them as clones. She sees them as human beings. She knows they got a very rough hand in life dealt to them and wants to be at least the one person they could go to that wouldn't judge them for being clones. After a moment, she gets up from her cot, and starts to get ready for the day. She makes her way towards the cafeteria where she can get breakfast with Howzer and they can establish a formation plan for the lost trooper. Once they had a game plan set, a small squad was sent out that included herself, Howzer and three others. While they are aboard the shuttle that is headed to the destination they're all doing various task, Howzer and widow are going over the schematics, and how to make this mission go as smoothly as possible. The other three who were known as Fireball, Scratch and Thunderbolt were standing around obviously nervous even though their helmets were on Widow could still tell that they are still new to this. "Tell me troopers, how does it feel to be stationed away from Kamino?" Widow asked as she's observing them "well it's a lot more dry than that place" Thunderbolt joked earning a small smile from the spy and a few chuckles from the others. Not long after the shuttle landed they proceeded with the plan.

The extraction went smoothly which worries Widow, "That went a lot better than planned" Howzer comes up behind her on the loading dock at the base. "Yeah…" she says as she turns her around to the side "You feel like it went too well don't you widow" Howzer states looking at her. She turns around to look at him fully "You know me too well Buddy" she says as she's walking towards her friend, she walks past him as he's following in step with her "you know this reminds me of when we got trapped in Hondos ship" Howzer remarks, widow groans "How in the blazes does this remind you of that!?" She exclaimed, she chuckled. "Us working together again. Feels just as good as it did back then to me is all." Howzer says sincerely as he takes his helmet off when they reach Widows cot area, she smiles and hm's lightly as she sits down. Motioning her hand for her friend to sit beside her, he gladly accepts it, removing the top half of his armor before he sits so he can be somewhat comfortable.

"Don't worry Howz, I feel the same way." She sighs "although, I'm happy that the mission didn't go the way that mission on Hondos ship did though" she chuckles at the end. Howzer smiles and laughs "I mean I wasn't complaining!" He says while laughing. Widow rolls her eyes and playfully slaps Howzers shoulder "well no shit! From my point of view EVERYONE enjoyed it" she laughs along with her friend "You're still the only one in the GAR to see that much of me by the way." She continues. "Well let's keep it that way then" Howzer smirks as they both calm down from laughing.

"I hate that your leaving tomorrow Wid" Howzer admits "I know. So do I." Widow admits "I do however really like the group I'm with though, they are Clone Force 99." She pauses "they all have unique enhance abilities that make them different from what they call 'regs' which is meaning normal troops" she explains. "They are all so different in their own ways like for instance Tech he's the most intelligent being I have ever met but what he excels in is knowledge, he lacks in common sense, he's a very straight up and forward type of person." She lightly smiles "Then there is Crosshair, he's not much for pleasantries but I will absolutely say he has a Damn good shot when it comes to being a marksman. He's quite the asshole, though." She pauses "oh and how could I forget Wrecker!? He's the toughest guy I've ever met, he can quite literally pick up a ship and toss it around like it's nothing." She glances over to her friend who is just watching her with a curious expression on his face as he's waiting for her to continue describing the rest of her team. She then looks down and pierces her lips together "Lastly there's Hunter." She sighs as she looks up " he's the team Sergeant, and he is one hell of a tracker. He has enhanced senses that help him get a better visual and look on life." She clears her throat "He can get overstimulated a lot, but that's just because of the war that we are going through right now" she trails off " I try to do everything I can to help him when he's in one of his overstimulated moods, but sometimes the best thing for him is just to be left alone from what I've learned" she finishes. "It sounds like your in love" Howzer throws it out there casually, she looks back towards him in disbelief "I am not!" She exclaims. "Oh yeah? then why is Hunter the one you went into the most detail about when you were telling me about your team" he asked, "I don't know, he's the one I spend the most time with out of the gr-" she pauses and thinks for a minute as she looks up to her friend, who is grinning like he just became the luckiest man in the galaxy "shut up" she states.

The next morning was her final morning on Ryloth. Widow had gone out early to get a view of the sunset that was going on, beyond the horizon. The colors in the sky were glorious tones of pink purple hues with clouds that are just mimicking the same colors as the sun is coming to rise over the fields. "I wanted to see you off before they sent me off to do scouting at a nearby settlement" Howzer says calmly as he walks up to stand beside her watching the sunset. Widow smiles and looks over to him "Not going to lie.." she trails off, "I knew you'd show up" she grins widely at him before they make the move to hug each other tightly before departing each other.

Widow sees a familiar shuttle in the distance as she laughs when she realizes it's her team, she gets a little irritated when she realizes it's her team that never contacted her when they were on Skako Minor! Once the ship lands, widow walks over to where she will be the first person they see when they get off the ship. With her hands on her hips, she stood there, waiting for the stairs to descend for them to come off the Havoc. When the shuttle doors finally open, she barely has time to think before being crushed in one of wreckers famous bone crushing hugs "WE MISSED YOU RED!" Wrecker exclaimed to the group, next was Hunter she only knew he came out once he told Wrecker to put her down and to let her breathe. Once the brute of the group, let her go, he went back onto the havoc to do inventory of his explosives. "Thanks for that" she breathes heavily for a moment, and then stands up straight when she catches her breath " you didn't keep in touch Sergeant" she points out grimly. Hunter sighs " I know and I'm sorry things got a little bit out of hand when we arrived nothing we couldn't handle but we weren't able to have communication that would be traceable and we weren't about to leave them back to you" he explains "as you have said before ask for forgiveness, not permission" Hunter points out with a smirk playing on his lips. Widow gives him a look of satisfaction and amusement when he uses her own lines against her. "Well played sergeant you're really catching on." She smirked up at him.

"Where's Cross and Tech?" She questions as she's about to walk up the ramp, Hunter gently gripped her bicep before she is able to get any further to the shuttle " they're inside crosshair is cleaning his rifle, and tech is doing more modifications to the havoc" he pauses briefly and looks to her "I want you to meet our newest member of the team" Hunter tells her as she looks up to him and back to the ship she sees a man that is quite frail looking. Looks like he has been starved, and looks like death. He is walking down the ramp, looking just as surprised as she is seeing him. "Echo?" She gasped out.

#bad batch hunter #star wars smut #sw tbb #fanfic #hunter x reader #star wars #star wars the bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb fanart #captain howzer #howzer x reader #tbb howzer

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jetii · 3 months

Text

Home is a Place on Coruscant

Pairing: Captain Rex x fem!Reader

Words: 10,705

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, discussion of grief/death, some description of blood/injuries, mutual pining, friends to lovers, smut, dirty talk, a little brat taming, oral sex (m and f receiving), penetration, unprotected sex, light exhibitionism but not really

Summary: You've always been there for Rex, and when he shows up at your door in the middle of the night after a devastating mission, you do what you do best: take care of him.

A/N: The start of this fic has been sitting in my notes app since the TCW season finale many moons ago, and it wasn't until I read this drabble by @djarrex that I felt compelled to actually finish it. Rex is my fav and he deserves to be taken care of.

It's been about a decade since I've published a fic and about a decade since I've been active on tumblr, so I decided to start from scratch with this blog. Feedback is very much appreciated! I have a few more drafts in the works for Echo, Howzer, Kix, Tech, and Hunter that I'm planning to publish depending on the reception to this one.

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Rain on Coruscant was rare. But when it came, it came in torrents, and it came all at once.

In the early hours of morning, while the planet was still sleeping, the sky opened up and let loose a downpour that threatened to flood the lower levels. It was so heavy, it even drowned out the traffic noise coming from the speeders that were still flying over the city at the early hour. The noise was soothing, almost like a lullaby, and the sound of it woke you.

You were used to this sound. You were used to it, because you were used to not being able to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. It was one of the many things about living in the Jewel of the Core Worlds that was taking you longer than you would have liked to adjust to.

The traffic noise, the bustle, the crowds—it all made your homeworld of Rion seem very far away. You could never hear anything over the speeder traffic here, and you likely would've gone mad long ago if not for the trickling of the fountain you kept in the main room. It had been your mother's. You were glad it had come with you when you moved.

The rain was heavy enough that you could hear it inside the apartment, a pleasant hum against the transparisteel. You sat in the window seat, arms folded around your knees, watching the rain fall. The view from your window was not the best in the Galactic City, but it was still quite good, and at night it was beautiful, all the lights of the skyscrapers blurring together in the rain.

The rain would be good for the plants.

You had a garden, a modest one. Some of the plants were native to your world. A few were native to Coruscant. Most were from other worlds. They were your pride and joy. Caring for them had given you something to do when you were adjusting to your new life here. You watered and pruned and tended to them all, and in the spring you were rewarded for your efforts.

Rex had been baffled, at first, by the sight of you out in the courtyard behind the complex, on your knees in the dirt, digging and weeding. It was a little piece of nature on a planet that didn't have much, and Rex was amazed that someone could take so much joy in something so… natural. It was nothing like what he'd been raised to appreciate, which was a good vantage point, a well-maintained blaster, and a plan.

When he'd told you as much, you had invited him to kneel down beside you, and, hesitantly, he'd done so. You handed him a spade and pointed to a patch of soil.

"See that little green leaf poking up?" you asked, and Rex followed your gaze. "See it?"

"I see it."

"Plant the spade right under it. When you pull it up, the root will come with it."

"Like this?" Rex had pulled the spade up, and a plant had come with it. He examined it, then tossed it aside, into the compost.

"That's perfect. That's just how you're supposed to do it. See, you're a natural."

Rex smiled, pleased with the praise. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Now, let's get the rest of these weeds."

You'd worked in the garden until the sun was setting. Your hands had been dirty, and you had been smiling, and Rex had thought you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He would probably never tell you as much. He'd been trying to think of ways to tell you, and nothing seemed good enough. There was nothing good enough for you. So instead he told you about the missions he went on. And you listened. You always listened.

You wondered if Rex had heard the rain start. You wondered if it was keeping him awake, too. You wanted him to sleep. He was always so tired, and the last thing you wanted was for him to be exhausted when he came home from his mission.

If he came home.

It was an irrational thought. The missions were dangerous, yes, but the 501st had some of the best soldiers in the galaxy. And Rex was a good captain. A good leader.

But there was always the possibility. The risk.

You were intimately acquainted with the feeling of waiting for someone, and the way it tore you apart. It was a risk, being this close to Rex and the other clones of the 501st. It was a risk, feeling the way you did.

It was a risk, but you did anyway.

You look out at the rain, and the speeders that still flew through it. You wonder how they could fly through the storm, and not be afraid.

You're just about to turn away from the window when a noise behind you makes you jump. There, underneath the sound of the rain battering against the transparisteel, the sound of a knock at your door. You almost don’t think it is real, that it's simply a part of the soundscape of the rainy morning, but it comes again, three short raps.

You slide out of bed, fumbling to grab the clothes you tossed on the floor the night before. You don't bother to put on pants, but pull a long shirt over your head and tiptoe to the door, peering through the peephole.

The rain is heavier now, and the clouds are dark, almost black. The white shape in the hall is familiar, though, and it makes your heart race. You open the door, filling the small entryway with the scent of fresh rainwater and humidity.

"Rex," you say. "What are you doing here?”

He’s stoic, still and silent under your gaze, but you can see the tremble in his hands at his sides. The downpour seems to have washed the majority of dirt and debris from his armor, but bits of red still run through the cracks. An hour ago, he was likely covered with whatever the substance was — Umbaran dust or something more sinister — but the rain did well enough to wash it off.

He must’ve walked here, you realize, eyes widening. Your bottom lip pulls to worry between your teeth as you notice the new dents and marks on him. Carbon scoring on his shoulder plate, a tear in his kama, and what seems to be a blaster hole in his chest plate.

"I… I don’t know," he says after a moment. His voice is quiet, rough through the modulation of his helmet. It's as if the words are being dragged up from his lungs.

"I shouldn’t have. I… I should have called. I just… I had to see you.”

The words hang between you, suspended like the raindrops in the air. You feel tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. You can't believe he's here. He's here, and he's alive. You'd known he would be, but to see him with your own eyes, to have him in front of you, fills you with an immense sense of relief.

But something is clearly wrong. He's not saying what's bothering him, and you're almost too afraid to ask.

“Rex, what happened?”

You reach for him, only to have your hand meet nothing but humid air as he pulls back.

“It’s late, sorry for disturbing you—“

He turns to go, and this time you’re faster. Your hand encloses around his wrist and pulls him to a stop before he can take another step.

“Wait, Rex— please, just… stay. Just for a moment. Come in, you're getting soaked."

He lets out a slow breath and then, after a moment, he jerks a stiff nod. He allows you to drag him inside your apartment and, as the door slides shut behind him, he lifts his hands to the seal of his helmet. You watch him closely as he pulls it free and reveals the face beneath.

There are smudges of grime on his golden skin, and a deep furrow has formed between his eyebrows. He looks haunted, as if the shadows from the battlefield have followed him home. You want to smooth that line out with your thumb, but you aren’t sure he will let you.

You don't ask if you can touch him, but he notices the way your fingers twitch, and he knows you well enough to know that you're thinking about it.

"It's fine," he murmurs. He's never said no to you. "Go ahead."

He doesn't say please, and that hurts a little, but you're not surprised. Rex has been holding you at arm's length ever since he kissed you a few months back, and you know why. You just wish you knew how to help him.

So, you touch him. You brush your fingers across his cheek, wiping away the grime. You know that he doesn't need to be cleaned, but the motions are soothing. Your gentle touch is a balm, and you can feel his tension ease ever so slightly as you brush your fingers over his face.

"What happened?" you ask again, voice barely above a whisper.

"A lot." He lets out a slow breath and leans a little into your touch. He's exhausted, and he's relieved to see you, and the two warring emotions are pulling him in different directions. Rex opens his mouth to say more, but the words die on his tongue. He shakes his head, unable to continue, and closes his eyes.

"Come sit down."

You take him by the hand and lead him over to the couch. You sit first, and he follows suit, sitting a respectable distance from you. The distance doesn't seem right. When you'd met him, Rex had been so full of confidence, even when he'd been a little bit awkward, a little bit unsure. But the war had changed him. He was still the same man, still confident and brave and intelligent, but the weight of responsibility had settled on his shoulders, and the burden was crushing him.

You want to tell him it's going to be okay. You want to say it, but the words sound hollow in your mind.

You shift, moving closer, and Rex moves, too. The distance between you shrinks, and the tension eases. You don’t much care that he’s wearing armor, or that the rainwater is leaving damp spots on the upholstery.

Rex reaches for you, and his hands tremble. His gloves are damp, and his armor is cold, and the chill sends a shiver up your spine when he touches your knee. His eyes are distant, and he doesn't quite meet yours, and his expression is so, so sad.

“Hardcase is gone,” he closes his eyes to avoid seeing the look on your face. You can’t help but gasp at the admission, and a soft sob slips past your lips.

You had met Hardcase once, very briefly. He had been charming and charismatic and kind, if a little wild, and you had liked him immediately. He had flirted with you, and Rex had rolled his eyes and tried to hide a smile behind his cup. Hardcase had been fun, and loud, and a little bit reckless.

You had not known him as well as some of the others on his squad, but the pain in Rex's eyes, the grief in his voice, was enough to make it hurt.

"Oh, Rex, I'm so sorry," you murmur.

Rex nods, and his jaw tightens. You can tell that he's trying not to cry, and you can't imagine how hard it must be, to carry such a heavy weight all by himself.

When he speaks again, your blood runs cold.

“We were betrayed. One of our own— one of the Jedi, he—" his breath hitches. “Oz, Ringo — Dozens of them, my brothers. They’re all gone.

"Betrayed?"

You feel like the bottom has dropped out from beneath you.

You knew the war was dangerous, and that Rex's job was dangerous, but the idea that it could go wrong in such a fundamental way?

The Jedi had always seemed so wise, and so strong, and so just. It had always seemed like there was nothing they couldn't do. To know that one of them could betray their men — could betray the Republic, and the innocent people of the galaxy — was too terrible to contemplate.

Your hand finds his cheek again, and this time, his eyes find yours.

They're shining, but his tears don't fall. He's a soldier, and he knows better than to show weakness, even here. You wish he would let himself break. You wish he would let you hold him, and let his tears fall, and let you help him put the pieces back together.

"Rex," you murmur, "I'm so, so sorry."

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes, and your thumb wipes away some of the wetness that has gathered there.

He pulls back for a moment, and you think he’s pulling away completely before he leans closer. His arms slide around your waist, pulling you tight to him as he buries his head in your shoulder. You immediately return the embrace, one arm over his shoulders while your other hand lifts to hold the back of his head.

You’re not sure how long they stay like that or how many tears are shed between you. After some time, he begins to speak, and you listen while running a soothing hand over his head, trying desperately to keep from sobbing outright as he tells you about the traitorous Jedi Pong Krell.

It’s by far the greatest atrocity you’ve ever heard, and to know that Rex has to put his helmet back on and get back to work in a matter of days makes you sick to your stomach.

He doesn’t deserve this, you think as you pull him into another embrace. None of them do.

Something about the motion causes him to wince, and you immediately release him to grab hold of both his shoulders.

“Are you hurt?” You ask, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

His hesitation is answer enough, and you can feel a wave of anger rise in your chest. How could they let him come back, in the state that he's in? How could they ask this of him, after all he's already done?

“I’m fine, cyare. Armor took most of it.”

If it weren’t for the way he avoided your gaze, you’d believe him, but instead you just feel yourself grow more upset. “What did Kix say?”

“Uh, he didn’t—“

“Rex, you were shot, and you didn’t think to get medical attention?”

His expression darkens, and you can see him withdrawing again. His shoulders pull back, and he pulls his chin up, and the distance between you grows again.

“I didn’t think much of anything, to be honest.” He mutters. It breaks your heart, but it also throws more coals on the anger burning inside of you. Not anger at him, you know, even though you can’t help but let out a sigh of exasperation. “I’ll be alright.”

“Like hell you will be,” you bite out before taking a step back to help him stand. “C’mon. Let’s get you patched up.”

You're angry. You're so, so angry. How could he let himself get hurt? How could he come here and not tell you about it? How could they send him home, to you, after all he's been through, knowing that he was injured?

But there's nothing you can do about any of that now, and being angry at him isn't going to help.

“You don’t have to—“ He protests through words only, allowing you to drag him through the living room and into the refresher.

“Yes, I do.” You shut him down quickly as you flick the light on and turn to rummage underneath your sink.

He’s still standing in the center of the room when you stand back up to full height, looking uncomfortable at your fussing. It’s not the first time you’ve had to patch him up, but so far it’s just been cuts and bruises. It’s unknown territory for you both, and he holds himself like he’s waiting for you to give up and shoo him out.

Your hands find his shoulders, and you gently push him down to sit at the edge of your bathtub. He’s pliant in your hold, but he meets your eyes with the worried pinch between his brows he gets whenever he thinks he’s upset you.

“Rex, let me take care of you,” you plead softly, and the furrow deepens.

He can hear the way your voice breaks. He can see the worry in your eyes. You're scared, and he hates that he's done that to you.

He should have known better. He should have taken a moment, to collect himself, before coming to see you. He shouldn't have let his emotions overwhelm him. He should have kept it together.

You were always there for him, and you listened, and he could tell you anything. He should have told you that he was okay. That would have been the responsible thing to do.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

And now, he can't seem to do the one thing you ask him.

But, after a moment, Rex relaxes. He’s never been able to say no to you before, and it is no different now. His shoulders slump a little, and the furrow smoothes, and you can't help but think that his face looks much nicer like this. You wish he wouldn't be so hard on himself.

"Okay," he murmurs.

It's all the encouragement you need. You lift his hand, cradling it gently, and begin to remove his gloves and armor piece by piece. You set the pieces aside, careful to keep them in order, and you know he appreciates that. It's a little thing, but it helps. You make a note to clean it for him before he leaves, the sight of the red smeared across its surface churning your stomach.

It's quiet between the two of you. The only sounds in the room are the rain and the gentle clink of plastoid against the floor as the last piece is removed.

You're grateful for the silence, though. You're not sure what you would say, and you know that he needs this, needs the moment to breathe.

"Where does it hurt?" You ask.

He hesitates. There's a lot of pain, all over his body. But you can't do anything about the pain that aches in his bones, or the ache in his chest. He doesn't know how to tell you about that.

"Chest," he finally admits. "Took a hit in the vest. Knocked the wind outta me."

That was an understatement, but you didn't need to know that. He could barely breathe, when it had happened, but the rest of his brothers needed him, and he didn't have the time to worry about his own injuries.

"Can you get it off?" You ask.

He gives a slight nod and reaches his arm up to grab the neck of his blacks, slowly pulling it overhead to reveal the skin underneath. Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him, and you feel a flush rising up your neck and onto your cheeks.

The only light in the room is the faint glow from the bulb above the mirror. It casts shadows across the planes of his muscles, and you can't help but drink in the sight of him. His chest is strong and broad, and a line of hair disappears beneath the waistband of his blacks.

There's a blaster mark on his sternum, just above his right pec, not far off from the scar in the center of his chest he’d earned on Salucemi. It’s weeping blood slowly, trickling down the curve of his muscle, and you can see the red, puffy skin surrounding the injury.

It isn't terrible. A few inches to the left, and it could have been fatal. A few inches to the right, and the armor could have deflected the bolt entirely.

Still, you know that he's in pain, and the knowledge is enough to make the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes again. You force yourself to swallow them back and, instead, you reach for a damp cloth to wipe the wound clean.

He hisses at the contact, and you can see him grit his teeth against the pain. His hand moves to grasp the edge of the tub, and you can't help but feel guilty. You want to tell him to relax, to try and ease his suffering, but you know he wouldn't listen. He never listens, not when it comes to his own wellbeing.

"Sorry," you murmur, but the cloth keeps moving. You have to clean the wound, so you can treat it properly.

“Where’d you learn this, anyways?"

"What, first aid?" You're surprised by the question.

"Mhm."

“My dad was a swoop racer, believe it or not,” you say softly. You don't talk about him very often. It still hurts. But this feels like the right moment.

Rex tilts his head curiously, watching your face. You can see his expression soften, and you know he can tell how difficult it is for you to speak about this.

"Really?"

You nod, your eyes focused on your work. “My mom was always patching him up, and I’d sit on the counter and help out where I could. When she passed, I took over.”

“Isn’t swoop racing illegal?”

“Hm, not on Rion, it’s not.” You finish cleaning the wound and move to grab the bacta bandages. “Maybe if it was, he wouldn't have gotten himself killed."

You're not sure what possessed you to be so blunt, but the words are out, and there's no taking them back. Rex blinks, shocked by your honesty. You feel embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck.

"Sorry," you murmur, keeping your eyes low. "That was… I shouldn't have said that."

Rex says nothing. He knows better than to try and coddle you, and besides, you've always been the one doing the comforting, not the other way around. But it doesn’t sit well with him to see you like this, and before he knows what he’s doing, he reaches out to you.

His hand lifts, and he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You can't help but lean into his touch. He's so warm, and his hand is calloused and gentle. He cups the back of your head, guiding you forward, and his lips press against your forehead.

You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes as the cloth slips from your fingers, and you cling to him. You feel terrible, for complaining about the loss of your father when Rex has lost so much.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs, and you're not sure if he means for asking or for Hardcase or for the war or for everything, and you can't bring yourself to ask.

“It’s alright,” you whisper back. He lets you pull away from him to busy yourself with sorting bacta patches, but you can feel his eyes on you.

"Is that why you came to Coruscant?” He asks softly, his tone careful and gentle.

Part of you wants to lie. You're tired, and you're hurting, and you're not sure you have the strength to have this conversation right now.

But the truth is already out, and if this will help him, you'll tell him anything.

You nod.

“He was actually really good at it,” you chuckle, and Rex can hear the bitterness in your voice. “But eventually he pissed off some powerful people who were placing the wrong bets. One day he left for a big race, and the next morning I found a box with his helmet at our doorstep. Or what was left of it.”

Rex sucks in a breath, and you can see his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He knew about the helmet, he’s seen it on the shelf in your living room. But he hadn't known the full story.

You look back up at him. There are tears in your eyes, but they don't fall. You're smiling, and your eyes are sad, and his heart breaks.

“I tried to get the police involved, the racing league, anyone I could get to listen to me, but no one would investigate. I was so angry. Then I started getting threats. I couldn’t…” You shake your head, trying to rid the memories. "I couldn’t stay. So I moved here. And then the war started, and then I met you.”

It seems like a lifetime ago. The days before Rex felt like someone else's life, and you wonder how you ever managed without him. You'd been so lost, and so alone, and you'd felt like the universe was crashing down on you, and he'd pulled you out from underneath the rubble just by being there.

"I'm so sorry, cyar'ika," Rex murmurs.

You reach forward and gently lay a hand on his chest, pressing the bacta patch into place. His skin is soft beneath your touch, and you can't help but think, not for the first time, about how beautiful he is.

"I'm glad that you're here," you tell him softly. "That you made it back, I mean. I'm glad you came home."

Home. Rex swallows thickly.

He's never had a home before, not really. Home had been a word for people with families and futures. Home had been a word for normal, everyday people, not clones.

Home had always seemed like such a far away concept, something he'd never get to experience.

But, suddenly, the idea isn't quite so foreign. Home. With you.

"I'm glad I came back too," he finally murmurs, and his hand lifts to hold yours.

You're quiet, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, and his gaze finds yours.

There's something different between the two of you, something charged and heavy. You know you need to pull away. He needs to rest. You're both exhausted.

But you can't. You can't stop looking at him. He's beautiful, and he's kind, and he's the bravest person you've ever known. You've never loved anyone the way that you love him.

"Cyare," he whispers, and the word makes your heart stutter, even if you don’t know what it means.

He's not sure what comes over him. Maybe it's the way you're looking at him. Maybe it's the fact that, after the past couple of weeks, he thought he'd never see you again. Maybe it's that, for once, you're letting him take care of you. Maybe it's because you're so beautiful and you're so close and he loves you, he's so in love with you, and he doesn't know how much longer he can stand to go without saying something.

Whatever it is, he knows he needs to say something, and he knows he needs to do it now.

"I'm so glad I met you," he whispers, and it's the best he can do, but he hopes it's enough.

He reaches forward, and his hand finds the curve of your cheek, and the touch is enough to send a spark through your skin. You can feel the heat building inside of you, the desire pooling in your core, and the air in the room is electric.

"Me too," you manage.

His lips find yours.

You gasp against his mouth, and your arms wrap around his shoulders, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. You're pulling each other closer, as close as you can possibly get, and it's not close enough.

Rex moans softly against your lips, and you can't help the way your hips twitch, or the way you whimper into his mouth. You're both desperate, and eager, and it's the sweetest relief.

He stands and turns, lifting you up and sitting you on the edge of the counter, and his body presses against yours. Your legs part, welcoming him, and his hips slot perfectly between them. His hands are on your thighs, gripping and pulling and massaging the flesh.

"Rex," you gasp, breaking away from his lips.

He takes the opportunity to press his lips against your throat, his tongue and teeth working the delicate skin. He sucks at your pulse point, and you whine. You know that there will be marks in the morning, but you can't bring yourself to care.

"Rex," you whine again, and you're not sure why, not exactly, because all you want is for him to keep doing what he's doing, to let him claim you and mark you and make you his. But you're overwhelmed, and you need to catch your breath, and his name is the only word your brain can think.

His fingers tighten, and his lips lift from your skin. He’s watching you with dark eyes and swollen lips, chest heaving.

"I need…" he trails off, and he doesn't finish the sentence, but you understand.

He's holding himself back. He doesn't want to push you, doesn't want to assume, but you can feel the need rolling off of him.

He's desperate.

You are too.

“Let me take care of you,” you whisper.

Rex sucks in a breath. There are a lot of things that he could say, but the only thing he can manage is your name, soft and needy, and you can hear the way his voice breaks.

The sound makes you ache.

Your hand finds his jaw, and your thumb runs along his bottom lip. He's looking at you with the most adoring eyes, and your heart feels like it's about to burst.

"Please," he breathes.

It's all the encouragement you need. Your lips find his, and his hands find your hips. He lifts you off of the counter and into his arms, and your legs wrap tightly around his waist. His fingers dig into the backs of your thighs, grabbing and holding and massaging the flesh. You're not sure how the two of you make it into the bedroom. All you can think about is Rex's lips, his teeth and tongue and hands, and the way he's carrying you like you weigh nothing, his hardness digging into your hip.

It's a miracle he doesn’t trip over the pile of dirty laundry on the floor.

His knees hit the mattress, and he leans down to lay you gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. There's a tenderness to his actions, a sweetness in the way he handles you, that makes you shiver. His thumbs trace the lines of your hipbones underneath your shirt, and he smiles at the sound of your breath catching in your throat.

"Are you sure?" He whispers, and the words are enough to make you ache.

His hands are so gentle, his face so earnest. He's always been so careful with you, and it makes you feel like the most important thing in the world.

"Yeah," you whisper, your hand coming up to rest against the side of his face.

Rex's smile is so beautiful, and it's so full of joy, and you can't help but return it. He turns his head and presses a kiss into the center of your palm.

His lips move, tracing the lines on your palm. His teeth nip gently at the tips of your fingers, and he watches as your breath catches.

He wants to take his time, to learn every inch of you, to map out the places that make you moan and the ones that make you scream, and the ones that make you laugh. He wants to kiss the scars and worship the stretchmarks and the freckles, and the dimples in your skin, and the wrinkles in the corners of your eyes, and the birthmark on your shoulder, and he wants to show you how beautiful you are, how perfect, how special, how loved.

He'll do it, eventually. But not tonight.

Tonight, he just needs you.

His fingers dip underneath the hem of your shirt, drawing it up slowly, and he can't help the groan that falls from his lips at the sight of you. You're suddenly, painfully aware of the fact that you'd never put on pants when you answered the door, let alone a bra, and you're almost embarrassed.

But the way Rex is looking at you after your shirt is tossed aside makes your stomach flutter, and the words die on your tongue.

"Mesh'la," he breathes, his eyes wide.

He can't seem to decide where to look, where to touch first, so you grab his hands and guide them. They slide across the planes of your stomach and over your ribs, and his fingers ghost the underside of your breasts, and your head falls back onto the pillows.

"Rex," you beg. "Please."

The sound of your plea is enough to spur him into action. His lips find the side of your neck, and his hand cups your breast, thumb finding your nipple and swiping over it.

You gasp, your back arching and hips bucking into his, and Rex moans softly. His teeth graze the line of your pulse, and he moves lower, and he pulls a nipple into his mouth.

"Fuck," you whimper, your nails scratching at the back of his neck.

You can feel the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He likes having this effect on you.

The hand on your other breast is kneading the flesh, and his lips are sucking at your nipple, his tongue tracing patterns on the delicate skin. His fingers pinch and pull, and you can feel the heat building between your legs.

"So sensitive," he hums, and the vibrations from his words send a tingle down your spine.

"Only for you," you breathe.

The words make his hips stutter, and the hardness of his cock presses into the wetness of your core. You can feel the outline of him against you, the heat and the thickness, and your breath catches.

You roll your hips into his, and Rex releases a groan, his teeth sinking into the soft skin of your breast.

"Kriff," he hisses, and the sound sends a shock of pleasure through you. Suddenly, you remember your promise.

"Lay back," you whisper, and his head lifts.

"What?"

You push at his shoulders, mindful of his bandages as you urge him backwards, and Rex follows your command. You move quickly, kneeling between his legs and grabbing the waistband of his blacks. You can see the outline of his hardness straining against the fabric, and you can't help but lick your lips.

"Can I?"

Rex's chest is heaving, his eyes blown black, and you can tell he's trying to process your question.

"Cyar'ika," he breathes, and the endearment makes your heart flutter. "You don't have to."

"I know," you tell him, your hand moving slowly up and down his thigh. Your head tilts thoughtfully. "Can I be honest?"

"Always," he replies.

"I've wanted to for a while."

You can feel the blush creeping up the back of your neck, and your eyes dart away from his. You don't know why, it's not like you've been hiding your attraction, but something about telling him is making you nervous.

"You have?"

His voice is soft, and his hand finds the back of your head. His touch is so gentle, and the surprise and happiness in his tone makes you bold.

"Yeah," you murmur, looking back up at him.

He looks stunned, but there's a light in his eyes, a warmth that you can feel spreading inside you too. "Why didn't you say anything?"

You shrug. "I didn't want to push."

It's his turn to blush. It's cute, the way his cheeks flush, and his eyes dart away. He almost looks embarrassed.

"Since we're being honest…" He starts.

"What?"

"Me too."

Your heart stutters, and a wide grin stretches across your face. The happiness building inside your chest is competing with the desire that courses through you at the knowledge that he's thought about this, about you, and the idea is almost too much. You're sure you must look like a fool smiling this much, but you can't bring yourself to care.

"You've thought about it?" You tease.

"Yeah," he breathes. "All the time."

"Tell me."

He groans, his fingers tangling in your hair, and you can see the way his cock twitches at your words. "I… Kriff, I've imagined it so many times. How good you'd look on your knees, with my cock in your mouth, or bent over, with my hands on your hips, or straddling me, riding me."

"What else?"

You've moved closer to him, and his fingers tighten in your hair, and you can feel the wetness between your thighs. You've never felt so desperate, so needy, and all you want is him, any part of him.

"I think about it all the time. What it would be like to have you in the barracks, in the 'fresher, in the hangar. You on your knees in my office. Fuck, everywhere. It's all I can think about sometimes."

You can feel the wetness growing between your thighs, and you can't stop the whine that falls from your lips. It's almost too much, hearing the things he's imagined, the ways he's wanted you, the times and places, and the need and desperation behind his words.

"Then will you let me?" You ask, and you hope the answer is yes, because you can't imagine stopping.

"Please," he breathes.

"What was that?"

Rex's grip on your hair tightens, his gaze locked on yours as he speaks again, his voice is low.

"Please, cyare."

That's all the encouragement you need. Your eyes don't leave his as your hands pull at the fabric, slowly revealing his length. He's bigger than you dared to imagine, and thicker, and the sight of him is enough to make your mouth water.

His eyes are wide, his pupils blown, and his mouth is hanging open slightly. The blush on his cheeks is spreading down his chest, and the muscles in his arms are tensed.

"So perfect," you hum, and you're not sure if you're talking to him or his cock.

You wrap your hand around him, and Rex's hips stutter. Your thumb swipes over the head, spreading the bead of precum, and his eyes fall shut.

"So sensitive," you tease.

"Cyare," he warns. There's an edge to his voice, and it makes you grin.

Your head dips down, and you press a kiss to the underside of his cock, and his hips jerk. You keep pressing kisses along his length, your fingers wrapping around the base. Rex is struggling to breathe. He's not even inside of you yet, and it already feels better than anything he's ever experienced before.

He opens his eyes to look down at you, and the sight of you on your knees in front of him is almost too much. He's dreamed about this moment, and fantasized, and he never, not in his wildest dreams, imagined that it would feel like this.

Your lips wrap around him, and Rex can't stop the way his hips thrust up. His cock brushes the back of your throat, and you gag, pulling back slightly with tears in your eyes.

"Sorry," he gasps, his cheeks flushing.

You shake your head as much as you can with his length in your mouth, and your eyes flash up to his.

You like this, he realizes with a start. You like being used, you like the feeling of him fucking into you, and the realization sends a shock of pleasure through him.

You bob your head slowly, and Rex watches, transfixed, as his cock disappears between your lips. Your tongue runs along the underside, and his eyes fall shut again.

"Maker," he moans.

Your hand is stroking what doesn't fit into your mouth, and your other is tracing the lines of his thighs, and his abs, and his V-lines. You can feel the muscles tensing and relaxing under your fingertips, and you can see the way his hips are straining, the effort he's making to keep still.

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and you hum softly in response. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling gently, and his other hand comes to rest on the back of your head.

"Fuck, mesh'la," he moans, and the praise makes you preen.

You pull back, until only the head is between your lips, and swirl your tongue around him. He tastes sweet and salty and just the right amount of bitter, and you can't get enough.

"So good," he gasps. "So perfect, so beautiful."

He's babbling now, the words falling from his lips without him thinking about them, and you can't stop the grin. You'd always wondered if he was a talker.

"So perfect, cyar'ika, taking me so well." His voice is wrecked, and his breath is coming in ragged pants. "Feel so good. I could fuck your mouth all night."

His words make you shiver. He could. He could do anything he wanted with you, and you'd let him.

You move your head down, taking him as far as you can, and Rex's eyes open to watch you. You hold his gaze as his cock slides along the back of your tongue and hits the back of your throat, and you suppress the urge to gag.

"So pretty," he hums, his voice strained. "Such a good girl."

Your pussy throbs at the words, and the moan you release vibrates his length.

"That's it," he gasps.

You can feel the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, but you keep moving, keep taking him, and his grip on your hair tightens.

"So good, mesh'la, so, so good."

He's repeating the words, and you're not sure if he knows he's saying them. Your jaw is starting to ache, your lips are sore, and there's drool dripping down your chin, but you can't stop the soft whimpers and moans.

The sounds are enough to drive him mad.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, and his thumb runs along your bottom lip, stretched around him. The gesture is so tender and loving, it's almost too much.

"Look at you," he breathes. "Kriff, I've wanted this for so long. So beautiful. So perfect. My perfect girl. You take me so well."

You hum again, and his head falls back, the movement pushing his cock deeper. You gag around him, and his hips stutter, a litany of Mando'a spilling from his lips. You're not sure what he's saying, but the words are making your cunt clench, the pleasure building inside of you overwhelming.

"I'm close, mesh'la," he gasps. "If you want to stop, you'd better— ah, kriff!"

You've pulled back, and the suction of your lips is incredible. Rex's hips are stuttering, his hands are tugging on your hair, and the sounds falling from his lips are enough to make your core throb.

"Mesh'la, please, I can't—"

His words die in his throat as you reach between his legs and roll his balls in your hand. The action sends him hurtling over the edge, and his hips thrust up one last time, pushing his cock down your throat as he comes.

Your throat works to swallow every drop. It's so much, more than you were expecting, and you struggle not to choke. His grip on your hair is borderline painful, but you don't mind. You can feel his whole body trembling, his breathing labored and his chest heaving.

You release him with a wet pop, and he shudders. You press one last kiss to the underside of his softening length, and he twitches, his body still sensitive.

"You're gonna kill me" he breathes.

"Hopefully not." You wipe your mouth, thumb catching a stray drop of cum and sucking it into your mouth, and you watch as his eyes darken.

He pulls you to him, and you climb back into his lap, his lips on yours. The kiss is slow and lazy, his hands running up and down your back, his body still shuddering from the force of his orgasm.

"Mesh'la," he sighs against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. "So beautiful."

His fingers trail down the side of your neck and between your breasts. They ghost the skin of your stomach and dip underneath the hem of your panties, and you can't help the whimper that escapes.

"Still want me?" You ask.

"Always."

His lips are on your neck, and his fingers find the wetness between your thighs, and you gasp. The noise that falls from his lips is filthy.

"Fuck, cyar'ika," he groans. "You're soaked."

"That's your fault," you manage.

His teeth graze your pulse, and his fingers brush against your clit, making your hips buck.

"Can't help it," you gasp.

You can't stop the cry of pleasure as his thumb presses down. His touch is gentle, almost hesitant, and you're not sure why. You've made it perfectly clear that you want this.

"Rex," you whimper. "Please."

He presses another kiss to your lips, and the hand not between your thighs wraps around your back, holding you steady. He teases your entrance, and your breath catches, and then his fingers are slipping inside.

"Ah, fuck," you hiss.

You're so wet, so slick, and his fingers slide in easily. Just two fingers already feel so thick, and you can feel your walls stretching around him. There's a dull ache, but it feels so good.

"Cyar'ika," he groans. "Fuck, so tight."

His fingers pump in and out slowly, and your head falls onto his shoulder.

"Faster," you gasp. "Please, Rex."

"Shh," he coos. "Patience, mesh'la."

"Please."

"Be a good girl and be patient for me."

You whine, the sound muffled by his shoulder. He's being cruel, teasing you like this. You've already had him once, and now he's drawing it out. "Rex, I need you."

He hums softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. His fingers are still pumping in and out, slowly, agonizingly, and you know he's doing it on purpose.

"I need you," you whimper.

"I'm here," he whispers.

"No, I— ah! I need you inside me."

You can feel his breath catch, and his fingers stutter, and then his lips are at your ear.

"How do you want me, mesh'la?"

"Like this," you breathe. "I want to ride you."

His breath hisses through his teeth, and his fingers speed up. The change in pace is enough to make your head spin, and the noises coming from your mouth are embarrassing. You sound desperate, and you are.

"Fuck, Rex."

"So good," he hums. "Such a good girl."

A third finger slides in beside the other two, and the stretch makes your back arch. You're not sure when he had the chance to slick his fingers with your wetness, but he must have. He's not hurting you, and the feeling is incredible.

"Rex, I'm gonna—"

"Not yet," he cuts you off.

"Please, I need to—"

"You'll wait," he growls, and the command is enough to make your toes curl.

"Please," you beg. "I'll be good, I promise, just—oh!"

Your plea is cut off by a sharp cry of pleasure, and your walls flutter around his fingers, your hips rocking back and forth.

"I said not yet."

"I'm sorry," you gasp, and the words come out strangled. "I couldn't help it, you feel so good."

He hums, his thumb finding your clit, and the stimulation is almost too much. His lips find yours, and his free hand holds you steady as his fingers move inside of you.

You writhe on top of him, your legs shaking, and you can feel the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach, and it's all too much.

"Please," you beg, and you're not even sure what you're asking for.

"What do you need?"

"Please," you gasp.

"Use your words, cyar'ika. What do you need?"

"I need— ah! I need you. I need more. Please."

He's torturing you, you realize. He's doing it on purpose, making you beg, punishing you for how you teased him earlier, and the thought of it makes your cunt throb.

"You've been so good for me, mesh'la. You think you've earned it?"

"Yes," you hiss. "I'll be good. Please, Rex, I'll be a good girl."

He can't say no, not when you're looking at him like that. Not when your lips are parted and your cheeks are flushed, and the look in your eyes is so desperate.

"Okay," he concedes.

You let out a sound of relief, and his fingers are slipping out of you. He brings his fingers to his lips and sucks them into his mouth, and the action is enough to make you groan. You rise off of him, legs trembling, and hurriedly push your panties down and toss them aside.

He looks up at you, and there's awe in his eyes, a reverence, as his hands settle on your hips to guide you back to him. Your hand wraps around his cock, lining him up, and the two of you gasp as his head breaches your entrance.

"Take your time," he whispers. “You don’t have to—fuck!”

You sink down, taking him fully in one smooth motion, and Rex can't stop the low, guttural moan that escapes.

"You said to take my time," you say, and there's a cheeky lilt to your voice. He opens his mouth to argue, but the words die in his throat. "So I took my time."

You can't stop the grin. The look on his face is almost too much. His cheeks are flushed, and his chest is heaving. His lips are swollen from the kisses, his eyes wide and his pupils blown. He looks good like this, you think, and you've never seen him so undone.

"Cyar'ika," he finally manages.

You hum, circling your hips, and his grip on you tightens. Your pace is slow, savoring this feeling unlike anything you've ever experienced. He's bigger than anything you've ever had inside of you before, filling you in ways you didn't even know were possible. You're still adjusting to him, and your movements are slow, but they're steady, and you can't help the soft whimpers and gasps.

Rex is struggling to breathe. Your heat is so warm and so wet, your walls are clenching around him, and the sight of you is almost too much. The way your head is tipped back, your eyes closed and your mouth open, the sounds you’re making, and the way his cock is disappearing inside of you over and over again, it's all so much. He can't believe this is happening.

He leans forward to press a kiss to your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse. You gasp before pushing on his shoulders, and his back hits the mattress. You lean over him, your hands reaching to grasp the headboard, and the new angle makes the both of you exhale. It also makes your breasts hang tantalizingly in his face.

Rex is not one to waste an opportunity.

He leans up and closes his lips around one of your nipples, and the sensation is enough to make your hips buck. Your pace speeds up, and his hands grip your hips tightly, helping to guide you.

"Oh, kriff," you gasp.

He releases your nipple with a pop and moves his attention to the other, and the sound you make is almost enough to make him come right then. He can’t help but shift his hips, moving them up and down in time with your thrusts, and you pull away from him to give him a look of warning.

"Stay still," you order.

"Or what?"

You raise an eyebrow, and Rex shivers. You're not sure what makes him react like that, but it sends a rush of heat straight to your core.

"I'll stop."

His jaw drops, and his eyes widen. "You wouldn't," he says.

"That’s an order, Captain," you say, and his cock twitches inside of you. You can't help the wicked smile. You’re learning a lot about him today.

"You're the worst."

"You love it," you retort.

His hands move to your waist, and he pulls you closer.

"I love you," he breathes.

You can feel yourself clench around him at his words, and he hisses through his teeth.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

Your lips meet his, and his tongue slides into your mouth as his hands roam your body. You can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, his lips are warm, and his breath is hot, and his body is so close to yours, the feeling is overwhelming.

He's everything.

"I love you," he says again, his voice hoarse.

"I love you, Rex."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"It's true," you gasp.

His hips stutter, and you pull away, giving him a look of warning, and his jaw clenches.

"Sorry, cyar'ika. I couldn't help it."

"I know."

"Let me make it up to you."

"Wh— ah!"

You cry out as his fingers find your clit, and your walls flutter. The movement sends pleasure shooting through you, and your legs shake, the pace of your hips unsteady.

"That's it," he coos. "Come for me."

"Not yet," you gasp. "Need you to— oh, fuck, Rex."

His hips snap up, meeting your thrusts, and the new pace is relentless. He's chasing his own release, and you're right there with him. You can't take it anymore.

"Please, please, I can't—"

"Go ahead," he urges.

You can't stop the cry that tumbles from your lips. You can feel the orgasm building, and your hips are bucking wildly.

"I can't—I can't," you sob.

"Come for me, cyar'ika. Come on my cock."

The words are enough to send you over the edge, and he swallows your cries of pleasure. You're trembling above him, your nails are digging into his skin, and the pressure of his fingers against your clit is enough to make your hips jerk.

"Kriff, I can feel you," he breathes. "Your little pussy is squeezing me so tightly."

"Please," you beg. You're not even sure what you're begging him for.

All you know is that he feels so good, and you're so sensitive, and the sensations are too much and not enough.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Good girl."

"I can't, I can't, I can't-"

"Shh, shh, it's okay."

He's so gentle even as he sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping up to meet yours. You can feel the head of his cock hitting the end of your channel, and his fingers are rubbing frantic circles around your clit.

The pressure is almost painful, but it feels so good.

"Oh, fuck, Rex," you cry out.

"Come again," he demands.

"I can't," you protest. "It's too much."

"You can," he counters. "Do it for me."

The words send a thrill through you, and you can feel the pleasure building. Your walls are fluttering around him, your hips are bucking, and you can't control the noises coming from your lips.

"That's it," he growls.

Your orgasm washes over you, and this time it's stronger, tears spilling over as his name falls from your lips over and over again. You can feel your release gushing out of you, coating his cock and the sheets below.

The sight is so filthy, but it only seems to spur him on. Rex grips your hips tight enough that you know you’ll bruise, and the thought sends another thrill through you. You want him to leave his mark. He fucks up into you with a force that has the headboard slamming against the wall, and his thrusts are losing their rhythm.

"I'm so close," he breathes.

You're barely coherent, but you can't help but latch on, his words sending another rush of heat through you. "You gonna come for me, Captain?"

He shudders, and his eyes flutter shut, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He can't find the words.

"You've been so good for me," you purr breathlessly. "Let go."

You can see the tension leaving his shoulders, his jaw slack. His breath is coming in shallow gasps, and his thrusts are unsteady. He's teetering on the edge, and all it takes is a few more words from you.

"Fill me up."

"Cyar'ika," he warns.

"Do it," you order.

"Fuck, cyar'ika," he breathes. "Oh, fuck, I'm coming, I'm—"

He curses, his head falling back against the pillow, and his cock pulses as he spills inside of you, his hands tight on your hips to hold you down. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you, and the sensation is enough to make the corners of your vision darken.

"I can feel it," you murmur. "I can feel you, kriff, Rex."

He groans, his arms pulling you down, and you collapse against his chest. You're not sure how long you stay like that, just holding each other. You can't feel anything except him, his hands running up and down your spine, and his lips pressed to the top of your head.

“So,” you say after a while, and he can hear the smugness in your voice.

You tilt your head, and the look he gives you is withering.

"Don't start," he warns.

"Captain, huh? I didn't know that was your thing"

"That's not—"

"What? You don't want to talk about the fact that your cock gets hard when I call you Captain?"

On cue, the appendage in question twitches, and Rex closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's not— ugh, kriff," he mutters.

You can't stop the laughter that bubbles up.

"You're cute when you're embarrassed," you coo.

"Don't patronize me," he says, but the words have no heat behind them.

"I'd never dream of it, sir."

You can see the blush rising in his cheeks, and his eyes darken.

"That's an order," he grumbles.

You lean up, brushing your lips against his, and the touch is soft and gentle. He melts into it, his hands resting on your waist.

"Yes, Captain," you say.

"I can't—kriff. You can't say things like that, mesh'la." His expression is pained, and the sound that escapes him is almost a whine.

"You're right," you agree. "I can do better."

He raises an eyebrow, and his jaw drops as your fingers wrap around his wrist. His eyes follow the motion as you pull his hand between your thighs. You let out a satisfied moan as his fingers dip between your folds, and he can't tear his gaze away from the sight of his seed dripping from your cunt when his softening cock slides out of you.

"You're a mess," he says reverently.

"I'm a mess because of you."

He hums, his fingers gathering some of his spend and sliding it back into you.

"Is this what you were imagining, Captain?"

He shudders at the title, and his hips cant, his cock stirring to life.

You can't help the grin. "It is, isn't it?"

"You're terrible," he growls.

"Oh, I'm not terrible. I'm the best you've ever had."

He lets out a breathless laugh. "You're the only one I've ever had," he admits.

You pull back, staring at him in surprise, and the look on his face is unreadable.

"Are you— are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious," he says, brow raised.

"But--"

"Cyare, I've only ever wanted you." His words are simple, and they're said with a conviction that steals the breath from your lungs.

"Oh."

You're speechless. You're not sure what you'd imagined the past few months. You're not even sure if you'd ever given much thought to it, but the idea that you're the only person who has ever made him feel like this is dizzying.

"I've loved you for a very long time," he confesses, and the words make your heart ache. "I never thought—kriff, I never thought you'd feel the same."

"I love you," you say firmly. "So much."

He grins, and the smile is so wide that his cheeks are dimpling. You can't resist. You lean down to kiss him again, and the way he holds you, like you're the most precious thing in the world, makes the feeling in your chest bloom.

"I'll say it every day for the rest of our lives, if that's what you need," you say.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," he murmurs.

"I wouldn't," you promise.

He stares at you for a moment, his gaze intense, and his grip tightens. You can see him steeling himself, and the words he speaks make you shiver.

"Good, because I intend to marry you someday."

"Someday," you echo. You're not sure if you believe him, if that's even possible for you, but you believe that he believes it.

"When the war is over," he confirms. "When the fighting is done, and we've finally got a chance at peace, I'll give you the galaxy, cyare. And a family, if you want one."

"Rex, I—" You swallow thickly, and he can see the emotions flickering across your face. His fingers are drawing shapes on your hip, and his eyes are locked with yours.

"I'm not asking for an answer now," he says gently. "I just— I want you to know how serious I am."

You nod, and the silence that stretches between you is heavy.

"You really mean it," you finally say.

"Of course I do."

"What happens if—"

"There is no 'if.'" His tone leaves no room for argument, and he shifts, sitting up. The new position brings you into his lap, and your knees are straddling his waist. He rests his forehead against yours, and his breath fans across your face.

"Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

"Together," you murmur.

"I'm with you. Always."

You close the distance, kissing him softly. It's nice, holding him like this. The feeling of his arms around you is enough to drive the fears from your mind, pushing them to the furthest corners. You can feel yourself relaxing, the tension leaving your shoulders, and his hands roam your body, exploring every inch.

"You know," you begin, your voice quiet, and your lips brush against his with every word. "I'm still waiting for a tour of the barracks, Captain. Oh, the hangar too."

His breath hitches, and you can feel him starting to harden again under you.

"Cyare," he breathes.

"I'd love to see your office," you continue, and his eyes darken. "You can give me a private tour, just the two of us. I'll wear a skirt, and you can bend me over your desk."

His cock is fully erect now, and he can't stop the groan.

"And the showers," you purr, gently rotating your hips. "I bet they're big. Just big enough for the two of us. We could get the water nice and hot, and I could drop to my knees..."

"Kriff," he swears.

"Or…"

He's breathing heavily, his fingers digging into your skin.

"We could do that now," you offer.

"Cyare." His tone is pleading, and the sound sends a thrill through you. You can feel the ache building between your legs, and your thighs are sticky.

"I'm already dripping wet," you whisper.

"That's it."

He moves so fast that it makes you yelp, and the next thing you know, he's on his feet, carrying you, and your legs are wrapped around his waist. He walks swiftly towards the 'fresher, and the feeling of him sliding against your core makes you shudder.

"You're going to be the death of me, cyare," he murmurs.

"Maybe," you concede. "But I think we can agree that it'll be a great way to go."

The door slides shut behind him, and the sound of his laughter is enough to make you melt.

"A great way to go," he echoes.

You know the path ahead of you is treacherous. You know there will be more battles, and more losses, and more nights where you're unable to sleep. You know there will be pain, and fear, and sorrow.

But there will be hope too, and joy, and happiness. A home, and a family, and a future.

It will be worth it.

#captain rex x reader #rex x reader #star wars #the clone wars #captain rex #captain rex x you #rex x you #clone x reader #clone smut #x reader #clone captain rex #i literally had a dream about rex last night so it's time to pull the plug and post this #roy writes

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