#tbb howzer x you

[moonstrider9904]

Gardens of Yesteryear

This fic is for the Clone Troopers and their Flowers event! @arctrooper69 this goes out to you!

Pairing: Howzer x Female Reader

Synopsis: on a very important day for you and Howzer, you’re unable to find the one thing you need to make the evening flawless. Will that stop you?

Tags/warnings: SFW. No real warnings, just fluff. Established relationship, brief mentions of alcohol.

Word count: 2.6k

Crossposted to AO3

As you bumped into one of the many flower-filled buckets for the third time that visit, you scolded yourself for leaving it to the last minute. There you were, in the fifth flower shop of the morning, and you’d had no luck finding those flowers. The day before, you’d thought your reasons to wait until the actual day were decent. You didn’t want them going bad, you didn’t want the petals crumbling or the stems going stale. You wanted all the best for him, for your special day.

You couldn’t believe it had already been three years.

The memory of your beloved coming into your life prompted you into taking a deep breath in the middle of the flower shop amidst all the people happily buying their bouquets of sunflowers or lilies, all flowers that were easy to find and renowned by everyone. It had been a rainy summer, that one, and it was the summer your life changed when you put it into perspective. The decisions you made, the people you met… you remember your man being the sensation. Everyone was talking about him and you’d heard his name mentioned and repeated days before you even got the chance to meet him, and surely enough, you also fell for Howzer’s charms when you first laid eyes on him. It was hard for you to fathom your luck—the sheer way in which the universe had smiled at you, told you yes, you may have this man to love and to hold.

A smile appeared on your face when the memory of when he’d asked you to be his came into your mind. The clouds had cleared on that day and you felt a warm sunshine on your skin. The breeze that day carried the smell of grass and flowers and the noise of children laughing and families going about. Donning a sundress and a cute little hat with sandals that matched it, you’d met Howzer underneath an oak tree whose green leaves looked radiant in the sunlight, and he’d arrived with a stunning bouquet of blue freesias. The way the blue shade matched the colors of his armor from his days as a soldier didn’t escape you, and that was when he’d asked you if you wanted to make your relationship formal. You’d never been quicker to say yes to anything, and those flowers remained on a vase at the center of your home for longer than any other bouquet had in your entire life.

Your mother’s words came to mind, of that one time she told you, “When someone’s flowers last that long, it means their feelings for you are really strong.”

But your heart also ached at the memory of how beautiful Howzer’s gesture was. Now that you were hitting the three year mark, you wanted to replicate the feeling in him, let him know that you’d also be willing to go over the top for him any time. And while most of your three-year-anniversary date had already been planned out, this part remained a secret.

In theory, since your flower endeavor was a secret, there would be no real consequence to you not going through with it. But you were unwilling to let it slide.

Then, as the florist came back around the counter from the back of the shop, you took a deep breath, feeling your pulse rise as you anticipated all the things she could possibly say to you.

“I have good news and bad news,” the florist said.

“Oh, maker,” your words shook from nerves as you exhaled your tension, but your tone remained kind. “Start with the bad news, please.”

“Well, I have two pieces of bad news,” the florist continued. “I have no blue freesias, and I have no freesia arrangements already made.”

You nodded. “Okay… what about the good news?”

“I have freesias in just about any other color. If you’re willing to work with that, just tell me what other colors you want and I’ll have an arrangement ready for you in thirty minutes tops,” she smiled at you.

Your heart sank, and the florist took notice.

“I don’t mean to make it worse,” the florist said, “but if you’d come around one hour earlier, I think you still would’ve found some blue ones.”

You chuckled, your laughter dipped in slight disappointment. “Yeah… an hour ago I was at a different flower shop, and they told me the same.”

The florist gave you a sympathetic smile. “I can work wonders, you know. Why don’t you let me mix some white, purple, and pink freesias and sprinkle in some golden motifs?”

A thought suddenly perched itself on your mind as you remembered the warm glow of the evening when your relationship with Howzer started. Everything had seemed so golden around you, and after all this time, that was one of the first things that you thought of when the memory came. The next thing you always seemed to think of was how beautiful the teal of Howzer’s armor looked whenever the ambience around him was so warm. The image was vivid in your mind, and your heart raced with joy as you thought of your handsome Howzer, in that perfect lighting, only belonging to you.

“You know what?” You smiled at the florist. “Do you have any yellow and hot pink freesias?”

“You bet,” she replied.

“Okay… do you think you could mix all the colors, but give the warm tones priority? And maybe we could keep the golden motifs.”

The florist nodded at you. “Give me a half hour and I’ll surprise you.”

A half hour sounded wondrous. In that time, you could go to the bakery next door to get some of the last things you needed before your anniversary date.

“You’re a hero,” you told the florist. “I’ll be back!”

*

The sun had started to go down on the sky, and the light it cast on the outside took that beautiful shade of gold you so loved. Despite the flowers not going according to your plan, the bouquet the florist got for you was still gorgeous, and if anything, it complimented Howzer’s signature colors. You had the whole thing planned out, figuring you could trust the kind florist to help you with one last endeavor to give the evening one more level of charm. You never wanted to be predictable when it came to Howzer, especially not when it came to a day as important as that one.

You were approaching the spot Howzer had chosen for your date. He had the tendency to not be predictable when it came to you either, and though it would have been sweet to have your date where it all began, Howzer chose a place that was new to you. At a park in a quieter side of the town, where there was grass, benches, tall trees, and even a fountain, and you felt the romance in the air from the moment you arrived.

You marched yourself across the park, feeling occasional blades of grass brushing against the skin exposed on your sandaled feet, and the gentle wind flowed in harmony with the skirt of your white sundress. You made your way towards the spot of the park Howzer had told you to meet him beforehand, and when you were at a short distance, you spotted him talking with two of his brothers. He saw you coming, as you could tell by the way his gorgeous brown eyes landed briefly on you only for him to gesture hurriedly at his brothers to leave, causing you to giggle softly at him. Howzer was a gentleman, but you loved it whenever your charm brought out his more clumsy side.

As you walked up to him, you took in every detail of Howzer. Though you weren’t at the same oak tree, the warm light of the evening matched the memory so well it might as well have belonged to you and Howzer already. As for your boyfriend, Howzer wore light brown pants and shoes that were a slightly darker shade, almost approaching a milk-chocolate color. His white shirt seemed to be made of a light, breathable fabric, ideal for days with such high temperatures and warm winds blowing, and the white shirt had thin cross-stitch patterns embroidered along the length of his chest in teal thread, his signature color.

A large grin plastered itself on your face as you took those last steps between Howzer and yourself, and your free hand went up to his shoulders as you leaned in and perked yourself up on your toes to greet him with a light kiss on his cheek.

“Hi, love,” you chimed.

“Hi,” Howzer smiled at you, his gaze traveling over your silhouette. “Wow, you are… you are stunning.”

You giggled and gave a little twirl on the spot. “Thanks.”

You then paused as you watched him standing there, his hands hidden behind his back as he smiled a tad nervously at you. You took that moment to take in the rest of the details around you: the red and white blanket placed on the grass, a large plate with grapes, hams, and cheeses, a wooden tray with short legs to safely hold a bottle of rosé wine and two slender cups, and series of warm fairy lights already powered on for them to grow progressively as the sun set. You smiled at the scene and set your basket of bread down on the blanket, your chest swelling with joy as you looked over at Howzer again, ready to tell him how beautiful the set up was.

But Howzer remained with his same uptight posture, hands insistently behind his back.

You giggled again. “Well? Aren’t you gonna kiss me?”

“U-Uh, right,” Howzer stammered, revealing one of his hands from behind his back. “Suppose I could just do this.”

“Mmm yeah, you could,” you chirped as Howzer bent forward and kissed your cheek sweetly. Smiling brightly, you turned your face to face him directly, and Howzer leaned in again to press his lips to yours.

You sighed dreamily, sinking into the familiarity and warmth of his lips, letting your fingertips travel up to brush the skin on the sides of his face. You’d memorized all of him, from the texture of the scar on his cheek to the lines of his face, the way he tasted and how he tilted his head first to the left and then to the right when he locked lips with you. You grinned into the kiss, pressing your lips harder to his before pulling away with a tiny smile.

“Happy anniversary, dear,” you whispered.

“Happy anniversary,” Howzer reciprocated with a serene smile.

“So,” you raised a brow at him. “Wanna tell me what you have back there?”

The clumsiness returned momentarily to Howzer as he stammered on his words. “Oh, r-right. Um…”

Howzer took a deep breath, returning to his regal, captain-like demeanor. He straightened his back and looked at you with confidence and affection, two traits that would have you swooning over him for days.

“I wanted to have a balance today, you know?” Howzer began. “I do want to commemorate this day three years ago under that oak tree when you said yes to me, but it’s been three years, and as much as I hold the past very close, I also want to acknowledge the fact that you and I, well… we have a future. We have a path to move forward in, and… hence the new place. But… well, maybe putting it that way, it’s not such a tragedy.”

You tilted your head, confused by his last sentence.

Howzer chuckled. “To have a piece of the day you and I became a couple, I wanted to get you the same blue freesias I got you back then.”

He slowly revealed what he was hiding behind him, and you stared at the bouquet of bright yellow, red, magenta, and light pink freesia flowers. The bouquet was balanced out with smaller white flowers that resembled chamomile, and it was wrapped in cellophane on the outer layer and thin bright pink paper on the inside, tied together with a neat teal bow. Howzer held the bouquet out to you, smiling charmingly at you, and for a moment, he resembled a prince declaring his love to you for the first time all over again.

You chuckled at him, dazed. “Let me guess. All the flower shops were out of the blue freesia flowers.”

“It’s uncanny how I was unable to find any today. It’s like they plotted to ridicule me,” Howzer agreed, but now he raised a brow at you. “How did you know?”

You giggled, your cheeks flushing with heat. With the best of timings, you spotted the florist walking up behind Howzer, and your gaze regrouped with that of your lover.

“Well, you’re not the only one who remembers vivid blue flowers that day,” you said, slowly walking up to him and kissing his cheek, letting your voice lower into a whisper as you told him, “close your eyes.”

Happily, Howzer obeyed. You skipped past him and went over to the florist, mouthing the words “Thank you” as you took the bouquet from her and took your position in front of Howzer again. You held the bouquet in front of your chest and smiled brightly at Howzer, your eyes sparkling.

“I know about the blue flowers because I wanted to get them for you too,” you said.

Howzer opened his eyes and felt his chest swelling with love at the sight of you holding the bouquet. You’d gotten the flowers in the same colors he had, and the golden motifs didn’t escape him.

“Darling,” Howzer sighed as he took the flowers from you. He chuckled softly, looking you in the eyes. “Well, great minds do think alike.”

“I guess they do,” you beamed.

Howzer set your bouquet down on the blanket next to the one he’d gotten for you. He rested them on your basket of bread and smiled at the way both complement one another, not unlike you did to him. Howzer then took your hands in his and looked you in the eyes, gazing into you with all the tender care he held for you.

“I love you,” he spoke softly.

Your entire chest fluttered, and your eyes glimmered up at Howzer as you blessed him with the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

“I love you too,” you said before leaning in and letting him kiss you.

As you both pulled apart from the kiss, the gleam in your eyes turned excited.

“Now, can I please start eating that cheese?” You proposed.

Howzer laughed. “Help yourself. I’ll pour the wine and get the crackers.”

“No wine, no crackers, no bread,” your hungry side got the better of you. “Only cheese.”

Howzer kissed your cheek, pressing himself firmly into you and smiling into your skin with how much he adored you. You then took a seat on the blanket and grabbed a cube of rich, yellow cheese, plopping it into your mouth. As you savored it, you leaned your head back, taking a deep breath as you enjoyed the peace, the breeze, the whole evening. Hearing as Howzer opened the bottle of wine and poured the two cups, you reached for a grape and smiled, knowing you were in the middle of perfection.

Here’s to more years, you thought as Howzer took a seat next to you, handing you your cup of wine.

You clinked your glasses together, and then you leaned your head on his shoulder, smiling as you gazed into the sunset and enjoyed every second of your time with the man who made your days bright and your years sweet as the scent of freesias.

Thanks so much for reading! If you like this fic, please consider reblogging to support me!

Dividers by saradika-graphics

[letsquestjess]

Protective Measures - Part 2 (Howzer x GN!Reader)

Summary: After an assassination attempt, you and Howzer face your feelings for each other before you must inevitably part ways.

Word count: 1.8K

Warnings: Minor details of injury. Bit of angst. Very suggestive content so there is a huge 18+ and an MDNI on this one. Just to clarify, the assassination attempt is not on Reader or Howzer.

Part 1 | Part 3

Fic Masterlist

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Two laughter-filled peals broke the stillness of the corridor and mirthful tones decorated the otherwise dull hush. 

“Truly,” you exhaled between chuckles, your shoulders settling from their amused judders. “It was the most bizarre exchange I have ever seen, but somehow, it worked. Both sides were satisfied with the trade and an alliance was formed.” 

Howzer’s teal pauldron swayed as he let out another muffled snicker. The few politicians and officers you both passed spared you disapproving glances, but he didn’t care. He would withstand every chiding stare, every scoff and derision, just to hear you laugh again. “If anybody else had told me that story, I may not have believed them,” he admitted. 

“Sometimes, I wonder whether I believe it myself, but it’s all there in the reports. Down to the finest detail.” 

Your cheeks ached from the uncontrollable laughter, and a soreness overtook your sides, but never had you experienced such a profound sense of ease. In Howzer’s company, relaxation came naturally, and you had spent numerous nights talking into the small hours. It saddened you to think that the moment the negotiations concluded, you would be shipped back to Coruscant, uncertain if your path would bring you and the charming captain together again. 

“Senator?” 

A faint jolt shivered through your chest as his voice returned you from your musing. “Sorry, did you say something?” 

“No. You seemed a bit preoccupied.” 

“I was just mulling over the discussions,” you fibbed, disguising your true thoughts as you neared the council chamber. “A lot is riding on today.” 

“You are stronger than you realise,” Howzer assured you.

“While I appreciate the sentiment, if I leave that hall with anything half-decent, it will be a miracle.” By the heavy double doors, you hesitated, thumbs kneading at your palms. You had never been this nervous about a meeting before, but this one was imperative. A single blunder, a mere slip, and all the progress you made with the other senators would topple before you could catch the falling pieces. 

“Wish me luck,” you said, hoping for a distraction to postpone the conference, even if just for a couple of hours.  

“Having witnessed the previous meetings,” Howzer replied, “I am positive you don’t need my luck. You’ll hold your own perfectly fine.” 

His certainty ignited a flicker of confidence within you and quelled some of the anxiety. “Spoil sport,” you mumbled, playfully jabbing his arm and relishing the half-smile that illuminated his face at your antics. 

“You ready?” he asked. His grip tightened on the rounded handles of the doors as he glanced back at you. 

For a brief second, his eyes softened, whispering that you would be okay, that no matter what happened, your courage had not been in vain. You briefly met his encouraging gaze and smoothed your attire. Chin up, you nodded. “As I’ll ever be.” 

* * *

Unlike the last meetings, the senators around the table remained in their seats, lacing their carefully crafted remarks with poison before they spat them out but keeping the volume to an appropriate level. Your words flowed smoothly and serenely as you expressed your ideas, responding to any queries and incorporating wise suggestions. 

Time lulled you into a sense of triumph. The advocate of the negotiations diligently removed any insults from the conversation and seasoned ego gave way to compromise. It hadn’t been a simple task, but you and a few other reasonable senators had found a solution to overcome the stubbornness of a select few and achieve your desired outcome: a successful conclusion to the discussions which would provide a stable future for all. 

“If these deals are signed today,” Senator Kel sighed, “I expect everything to be upheld within the thirty rotations promised. If they are not, all arrangements will be suspended.”

“That is a fair proposal,” the advocate said. Her golden scrutiny swept the gathering, scanning for any traces of disagreement, but the room motioned their approval. “Fantastic. Now, there is the matter of trade routes and supply points. How would we like to solve that?”

Several senators presented solutions, and ideas quickly circulated. While a few disputes arose, they were sternly put to rest and suitable options agreed upon.  

You could hardly believe it. You had convinced yourself that this meeting would be an utter disaster, with the fear that the inability to agree on these crucial matters would provoke the intervention of outside parties. But you were delighted that your anxieties had proven false. 

Shifting in your seat, your attention landed on Howzer, and a smile of relief broke across your face. With a gentle bow of his head, he returned the gesture as though to say ‘I told you it would be fine’. 

“Senator Kel, that simply would not work for the majority here,” the Lothal representative asserted. “I cannot agree to that.” 

“That is what I’m offering,” Kel replied firmly. “Your quickest route would take you into my airspace, and by the laws of my planet, a toll must be paid.” 

“Then our previous agreements will be cut.”

Just as Kel was about to sneer a remark, a bullet tore through his right shoulder and a spray of blood shot from the wound. Chaos exploded in seconds and as the injured senator tumbled, so did you.  

Your chair knocked from beneath you by Kel’s, your palms smacked onto the floor. Howzer closed in on you in a blur of motion and his protective arms held you close while you sought shelter behind the toppled, high-backed seat. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked in a frantic voice, scanning the rafters for a hint of danger, but his brothers were already climbing up to apprehend the culprit. 

“No, no, I’m okay,” you assured him, your grip tight on his armour as he lifted you to your feet. 

His hand stayed rigidly clamped around yours as you both ran. Shots erupted in the hall behind you to mingle with the frantic footsteps of the other clones guiding their designated senators to safety.

With each turn, you became more aware of Howzer’s intended destination and matched his hurried pace, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze to let him know you were still right beside him. 

Inside your apartment, he locked the doors and the windows and flung the curtains shut on the darkening evening outside. He meticulously combed every nook and cranny, his senses alert for any signs of hidden danger. Finding no threats, he returned to you in the open plan living room.  

“All clear,” he announced, holstering his gun. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes,” you replied. You hadn’t realised until that moment, but your body shuddered and your breaths came out in shallow flutters. Nothing that time wouldn’t settle.  

Your eyes locked onto his worried features as the comforting weight of his hands gently tilted your head to check for injuries, calloused thumbs caressing your jaw and the heavy rise and fall of his chest plate easing once he found no lasting harm. One hand over his and the other on his shoulder, you leaned your forehead on his. “I’m all right,” you whispered. “See. I’m right here.”

“I’m sorry.” Howzer’s voice emerged as a tired, creaking sigh. Broken. Shivering. A whole galaxy away from the captain who confidently made you laugh and shared stories about the war. He didn’t feel like the trained soldier he was supposed to be, but rather a panicked man, hopelessly grasping onto a love he knew he couldn’t have.

“I thought it was you,” he confessed, barely a touch upon the silence between you. “When your chair fell, I thought the shot had hit you.”

You hushed his fears with soothing touches and tender words of comfort. All the while he held you as though to anchor you both in that private moment. “Howzer,” you uttered like an intimate confession. His eyebrows knitted together, wrinkling his forehead, and the tip of his nose brushed your cheek. 

“Say the word and I am yours,” he breathed. Throughout his entire existence, he had been defined by his creators, told what he was, who he was. A clone. A replica. Nothing but a replaceable cog in the mighty machine that was the Republic.

But his love and loyalty for you was all his. Something he felt. Something real he could hold.  

Instead of speaking, you sealed the final few inches. His slightly dry lips beckoned you in with promise and warmth, and you surrendered to him without hesitation. 

Forbidden kisses passed between you, caresses roaming, bringing closer, nearer, pulling, teasing, until the need for breath parted you. You kept your fingers nestled in his midnight locks as your rib cage heaved, afraid to break the bliss by talking. 

With a nervous swallow, Howzer unclipped his chest plate and laid it down on the sofa. As you began helping him, his initially restricted movements blossomed into a newfound confidence, and in a whirlwind of teal and white, he stood before you in his under armour. 

“If at any point you want to stop, we stop,” he insisted, pausing inches from your lips. After receiving your explicit confirmation, he kissed you with an unbridled fervour and steered you to the bedroom.

While darkness drowned the city outside, you spent the night in a tangle of limbs and love, indulging in a slow exploration and drawing out every drop of pleasure. You bathed yourself in the devoted captain and submitted to the intoxicating fog of desire he lavished upon your body, until, perspiring and breathless, you found peace in each other’s embrace. 

* * *

The spaceport reverberated with chatter as officers hurried to escort the senators to the shuttle. Senator Kel silently climbed down from his private speeder onto the sanded stone, his injured arm supported by a sling and dark smudges circling his violet eyes. 

Walking side by side with Howzer, you wanted to slow your steps to savour those last minutes with the captain, but you drove yourself to keep pace. Sheltered within the shade of the craft waiting to take you to Coruscant, you fidgeted your thumbs. You racked your brain for a plausible excuse to prolong your visit, just for a few more days, but considering the situation, you doubted anything would convince the senate. 

“I should have known they’d call us straight back after what happened to Senator Kel,” you said. “I had hoped we’d be allowed to stay just a little longer.”

“As did I,” Howzer agreed, “but your safety is paramount.”

You could see the crestfallen ache in his eyes, swimming in the flecks of golden brown, and it took all your strength to swallow down the tears, if only to make the impending parting less painful for you both. “I will miss you, Captain Howzer,” you whispered, brushing your fingers over his for a fleeting second. “Thank you for keeping me safe.”

“It has been my honour, senator.” The captain’s hand shot up in a salute, and as he lowered it, he scanned his surroundings to confirm there were no prying eyes. “I wish I could kiss you, say goodbye properly.”

“That is something we can both look forward to when I next visit,” you told him. “With any luck, sometime soon.” This was not a goodbye, but a farewell for now, a promise you would see him again one day. At least that much, you were adamant on. 

TAGLIST (Message if you’d like to be added for future reader fics, 18+ only)

@skellymom @freesia-writes @the-hexfiles @theeyesofasoldier @multi-fan-dom-madness @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @tech-aficionado @techsriduur @dangraccoon @starrylothcat @jediknightjana

[kaminocasey]

25 Days of Life Day: Day 11 - Matching Holiday Sweaters with Howzer

Summary: You got matching ugly sweaters with Howzer.

Warnings: Suggestive language.

A/N: Sorry, wrote this in a bit of a hurry so it's a little shorter.

“I look ridiculous.” Howzer looks down at the sweater you got him.

“I think it’s cute.” You grin laying on the bed with your chin in your hand. 

He looks at your reflection in the mirror, staring at you with raised eyebrows like “Are you serious?”

“I’m not wearing this.” He laughs. “It’s hideous.”

“That’s kinda the point.” You shrug, grinning.

You were hosting this year’s Ugly Sweater party and since Howzer had never celebrated Life Day before, you took it upon yourself to buy one. Unfortunately, he absolutely hates it. 

Howzer sighs with his hands on his hips, turning around to look at you. “Will it make you happy if I wear this?”

“Glad you asked.” You get up off the bed and grab your ugly sweater that’s identical to his from the closet.

“I’m sorry… You bought two?” He asks.

You laugh and shrug it on. “One for you. One for me.” 

Howzer runs his hand down his face. “If we are the only two people wearing ugly sweaters, I’m changing.” 

“Deal.” You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” He smiles, softly. 

The party is turning out to be a success. Plenty of people showed up in ugly sweaters. There were a few who didn’t. Wolffe had told you he’d rather be fed to literal wolves than wear what you and Howzer were wearing. Howzer had just laughed and said “One day you’ll understand.” and tucked you into his side. You had smiled proudly up at him. 

You and Howzer have only been together for six months but you were absolutely sure that this man was who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. 

“You know, you’re really starting to make that sweater work.” Howzer murmurs into your ear from behind you.

“Oh yeah, the snowmen are really doing it for you, huh?” You smirk.

“Little bit.” He teases, pulling you against his chest. “As soon as the last person walks out the front door, I’m tearing that sweater off of you.”

You gasp. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would… and then…” He kisses your neck before continuing his train of thought. “I’m going to burn it.” 

You can’t help your little burst of laughter, making a few people look in your direction. Turning around to look up at your partner, you lean against the kitchen counter. 

“You are so dramatic.” You laugh.

“Not like these sweaters.” He takes a drink of his punch and you watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. 

Maybe he was onto something with wanting to get out of these sweaters, but not for the reason he was thinking. 

“I was thinking about something else for when everyone leaves.” You tell him, smirking.

He sits the cup down on the counter, caging you in between his strong arms. “Do tell.”

You lean in and kiss him on the nose. “Maybe later.”

Ducking underneath his arm and walking away, you turn back to smirk at him before going to talk to one of your friends. You know that he’s going to make you pay for it later with the way he’s smirking right back at you. 

Either way, the sweaters are probably never getting worn again.

TAGS: @grievouus @brynhildrmimi @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @misogirl828 @rexandechosandwich @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @twistedstitcher27 @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501

[jetii]

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.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

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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@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony

[dragonrider9905]

Celebrating You!

Hi guys! I’ve been on here for a bit now and while I never had a follower goal, I do appreciate you guys who have decided to follow me! So now I’d like to celebrate you!

In light of TBB ending, and how much we'll be missing the boys, I thought this was as good as a time as ever!

Here’s the idea! I’m opening a prompt request for the dates of April 5th through May 5th, 2024 (you may start submitting now though!) and choose from the prompts below! You can choose one from each category, or just one category. It’s ok if it is just the prompt or the prompt and a brief idea. If you have a fun idea or prompt not listed, please share!

Rules: I only write SFW. I typically write for clones; I reserve the right to refuse requests which make me uncomfortable for whatever reason. I have had a few requests in the past that really unsettled me for various reasons. Or if I don't know the character. I'd hate to try to write something then upset the person because it is so ooc that it's cringy. (But if I said I would write your request and haven't yet, I just honestly haven't gotten to it :D I like to do well on the stories you guys entrust to me so it does take me a bit :D)

This is supposed to be fun so lets keep it fun!

You may submit as many requests as you'd like! The more the merrier!

Characters: Star Wars Clone Wars or The Bad Batch (as long as I know them. I know a lot of clones but alas, not all.)

Story genre:

Classic SW! (Pick an era if they exist in more than one if you wish)

AU of choice (modern, western, pirate, mermaid, time traveling, etc if I’m unfamiliar with the genre, I may have to change it or request more details)

Dialogue Prompts:

“Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

“If we’re going to do this we’ll need—“ “A plan?” “No! Code names! Cool ones!”

“I don’t need to be anything to you. I just want my life to mean more to you than my death.”

“You are playing a dangerous game without even a glimpse of the rule book.”

“I’ve never been terrified of death, til he set his sights on you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” “Yeah, you’re not allowed to ask that in this situation.”

“Where’s your shoe?” “The giant mud puddle in the road demanded a sacrifice.”

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist.” “Then how else do I describe the feeling I got when I first saw you?” “You…love me?” “Apparently not, according to you.”

“A fate worse than death….” “They’re burnt cupcakes.”

“White paint has more color than your face.”

“Why is there a dragon in my fridge?” “It was hot.”

“Touch **, and you’re dead.”

“I am the law.”

“Do that again and I’ll throw you out the window. Wait, what are you doing?” “Checking how high the drop is; seeing if it’s worth it.”

“I’d rather have you hate me than loose you entirely.”

“I have a mission but don’t know what it is.” “Well that sounds incredibly counterproductive.”

“I would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulties in your life.” “You are the worst at this comforting thing.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this but I’m quite petite.” “Really? I had no idea in our twelve years of friendship that you’re shorter than I am.”

“But what is power?” “Loyalty.”

“Don’t you sign to me in that tone.”

“I’m with him/her for better or worse.” “It’ll probably be worse.” “I knew that the day I met him/her.”

"I'm sorry I tried to kill you." "It's fine, but next time you should try harder."

"C'mon, like I need an excuse to spend time with you."

"You're not as bad as everyone says you are."

"The only one who gets to kill you is me."

“blood loss”? well it’s not lost. I know exactly where it went. right over there.”

“How the mighty have fallen!” “It’s a dropped chocolate bar, stop being dramatic.”

“Shit, we’re gonna die” “Now I don’t want to hear that negative attitude, look on the bright side!” “Yay! We’re gonna die! Woo!”

“How do you do it?” “How do I do what?” “Pretend you are ok.” “I’m not pretending.” “Yes, you are. Every single day and it breaks my heart.”

“Hey, so I know things are pretty f**** shitty right now but I need you to breathe for me.” “Wha-wh-wh-” “You’re having a panic attack. It’s gonna be ok. Just breathe with me.”

“Please, my arms—I can’t wipe my tears, don’t let them see!”

"Smiles are contagious!" "Don't worry, I'm vaccinated."

"I don't want to get involved, it's too risky." "Please do it for me, you're the only one I can turn to." "It's not worth it. You really want to lose everything? 'cause I don't."

"Do you ever think of anyone other than yourself?" "No"---a long pause---"actually yes, at Christmas time"

"There is a reason I go through that door first, It's to make sure everyone else walks back out"

“I can’t leave you here!” “You can and you will.”

"OH! Are you alright? Are you alright?" "Apart from being trapped under here, and maybe suffering from broken bones and embarrassment beyond what I am capable of handling. . . I'm dandy, why do you ask?"

Oh no, are you alright? You're covered in blood!" "Yes, it's yours, Now will you please let me take you to the hospital?"

"What did love ever do anything for anyone anyway?"

"What the hell were you even thinking?!" "You told me not to think!"

"With love comes loss, that's part of the deal. Sometimes it hurts, but in the end, it was all worth it. There's no greater gift than love."

“'Temporary stitches' all stitches are temporary if you have a pair of scissors and aren’t a coward" "What do you....that better not mean what I think you mean......" "Am I just talking about sewing stitches or sutures too? Maaayyybe?" "NO! Absolutely not!"

"I made the calculations, and boy am I bad at math."

"It'll be over soon, I promise."

"Working together again, just like old times." "Well, not just like old times."

"I am many things but not your enemy."

Action Prompts:

Forehead kisses

Palm/hand kisses

Dramatic rain scene

Touching foreheads

Jealousy

Dancing

Last stand

Christmas/Life Day celebration

mistletoe

Accidental hand touch

First date

First kiss

Spending time with the family

Bad day cheering up scheme

Pranks

Going to a pet shop

Going to the movies

Always go after the girl

soft spoken person has loud, unnerving scream.

Lullabies

Nightmares

injury

amnesia

pretend/mistaken to be married/in a relationship

cooking

[sinfulsalutations]

Yayyyy! Congrats! I would love to place my beloved Howzer in your amazing hands again. Could I request him with Fem!Reader for prompt 12 or 13? Leaning toward 12 but whichever you prefer! 😍 Thaaaaank you!!

➼ ɴᴏᴜʀ'ꜱ 500 ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ᴀʜʜ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰʀᴇᴇ! ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ꜱᴏ ʜᴏɴᴏʀᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴀɴ 🥹😌 ɪ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ 12 ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɪ ɢᴏᴛ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴀɴʏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ 13, ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴘɪᴄᴇ ɪᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ!

➼ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ☆ “ɪꜰ ᴡᴇ ɢᴇᴛ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ, ɪ’ᴍ ʙʟᴀᴍɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ”

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ꜱᴇx, ꜱᴇx ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴛ, ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ Qᴜɪᴇᴛ (ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ ɪꜱɴ’ᴛ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴊᴏʙ)

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 508

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

Howzer has always been a passionate lover. You first catch such a glimpse during your first kiss, how he pleasantly groans into you and hums so sweetly when he pulls away. Even when you aren’t engaging in such hot and heavy activities, just simple, domestic pastimes, how long he’d savor each passing kiss and hug. But you don’t truly realize such a fact until you’re in bed, not for the first time, no, but a time when he isn’t allowed to make as much noise as he pleases. That becomes a problem very, very quickly.

The groans are pleasant, no doubt, as he rocks into you slowly and methodically to ensure you don’t make too much racket with how you're positioned on top of a storage crate in a closet, but even then, you’ll no doubt be found if he continues making those sounds.

“Howzer,” You mutter, eyes succumbing to close from pleasure. He’s still rocking the both of you slowly, even as you rouse his attention to your voice. “Baby.”

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” He finally answers you, and you huff. At least you can hide your face, pressing your chin on his shoulder and facing the ceiling.

“You’re being too loud.”

His rocking stops for a moment, and he adjusts the both of you so you’re looking at each other. Suddenly, you’re laughing softly, and he’s biting his lip, a look of light disappointment in himself over his features.

“I thought I was being quiet,” He admits with a chuckle, leaning down and pressing your foreheads together. You laugh with him, very quietly and very carefully, but still enough to know that you’re not upset with him. “I mean, this is pretty quiet for me,” He adds, more hushed than before.

“Sure,” You retort, before lazily resting your arms on his shoulders, holding the back of his head, and bringing him down for a kiss. He lets himself make some noise as you do, letting it ferment and vibrate between the two of your bodies and not leave, but it’s still enough for you to pull back again, giving him a stern look and a raised eyebrow. “Seriously?”

He doesn’t respond appropriately.

You sigh, “If we get caught, I’m blaming you.”

Howzer only smiles again, pecking the top of your nose.

“I’m fine with that, dear,” He says.

You bite the inside of your cheek, attempting to contain a coy grin, but it doesn’t seem to be working. Suddenly, Howzer moves; he’s lifting your hips off the crate and turning you around, pushing his bottom onto it and bringing you into his lap, all somehow without slipping out of you.

It’s your turn to make noise, squealing softly, but he brings his hand over your mouth to contain it. You scowl, before lightly pecking his palm, urging him to pull it away.

“Hm,” he hums with a mischievous smile. “Seems like I’m not the one making all the noise now.”

You slap him lightly; with your lovesick smiles and starstruck eyes, it’s helpless to contain your giggles.

tags: @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @followthepurrgil @wolffegirlsunite @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @aconstructofamind

[happytroopers]

Lessons in Self Defense // Howzer x Reader

Summary: little blurb about how quickly a Captain’s self defense seminar can turn into something else, especially in Ryloth’s afternoon sun.

Warnings: suggestive implications nothing mentioned explicitly, not even pg13, mostly fluff

"Ok, plant your foot- a little wider," Howzer paused to try to hide his grimace when your foot slid out a little too wide, which threw your balance off, "Not that wide, honey."

"Yeah, I gathered that." You snipped backed, cheeks puffing as you blew a piece of your hair out of your face before readjusting your feet. Howzer’s lip quirked up into a smirk at your sass, tapping your ankle with the toe of his boot to make you angle better.

"Better." He breathed, almost instantly dropping into a fighting position. When the captain did it, he looked graceful, powerful… dangerous. Standing across from him, trying to mirror it, you just felt… awkward, "Ok, now try to hit me."

Immediately, you dropped the stance, shaking your head, "Howzer, I’m not hitting you."

"(Y/N), the only way to learn is to practice." He reminded you for what seemed to be the hundredth time, not rising from him stance. Still, you shook your head defiantly.

"I don’t want to hurt you, Howz."

That was what made drop his stance, or at least half way as he laughed out right at you. Your cheeks flushed with heat as he laughed at you, fortunately the blistering Ryloth heat had already given you a permanent blush so he couldn’t outright read your embarrassment.

"I take it back. I’ll hit you now." You muttered as his laughter died down. As frustrated as you were with your lack of talent for fighting, it was nice to hear him laugh so loudly. Seeing your unamused deadpan, he tried to temper his amusement.

"And that’s very kind of you, honey, but I promise, you can’t hurt me." He promised you with a wink.

He seemed at ease here, in a secluded spot behind General Syndulla’s estate. Teaching, or at least attempting to teach you some basic self defense. Though you were fairly sure it was just another reason to sneak off together. His teal painted armor was piled up nearly a couple feet away, leaving him in only his blacks from the waist up. Had it been five degrees hotter, he would have discarded those too. But, you were already distracted enough as it was.

Seeing that you still weren’t crazy over the idea of actually hitting him, he sighed bemusedly, not for the first time wondering how someone like him lucked out with someone like you. This time, he back up a bit and held up both of his palms, as if expecting two high-fives.

"How about this?"

Behind his held up hands, his eyes were soft, hopeful. Howzer had always been hard to say no to. You sighed, dropping back into stance. His grin stretched, "Good girl."

You tried not to let your face betray what affect those words had on you as you held your fists up the way he showed you. Without further deliberation, you struck as he had taught you.

Right, left, right, while keeping whichever hand wasn’t striking close to guard your face.

"Just like that. Do it again, harder." He instructed. As he had said, the solid contact did feel good- made you feel powerful even if Howzer didn’t budge. He grinned at your excited smile.

So, you did it again, hurling your fist harder, and then again. He had wrapped your knuckles earlier, doing it painstakingly slowly with enough suggestive eye contact that you had almost forgot about training, but now you were glad he did. Even with the extra layer, your hands and wrists already ached- a dull throbbing shooting up your bones. But his encouragement kept you going until you were sweating.

When he could tell your hits were getting softer and shakier, he took a step back on purpose. Being so in the zone, you didn’t realize until your fist missed its mark and you had no choice but to follow it’s momentum. Straight into Howzer’s chest.

The captain, of course, caught you easily, twisting you around so your back pressed to his chest. His larger arms were wrapped around your midsection, hips flush to yours as his breathe fanned over your neck, "Now break this hold, just like a showed you."

Unfortunately, he had shown you that move right after taking off his armor. You had been throughly distracted by his blacks instead of paying attention. But you had other ideas- he might be a soldier, but he was also a man.

"What if I don’t want to?" You whispered back, leaning into the hold instead of fighting against it. You felt Howzer stiffen behind you as he processed what you said.

"Oh. Oh."

He cleared his throat, his grip adjusting so it was less tactile and more… fitting for the situation. "In that case, we can move on to…"

In that moment, you seized the opportunity to drop to the ground, breaking away from him before he could register. When you rose from the dusty ground and flashed him a victorious smile, his face went from flushed to unamused understanding.

"That was a dirty move, honey." He scolded you, taking a step forward with a look on his face that you knew all too well. Your victorious smiled turned to a cheeky grin, knowing exactly what the darkening, predatory look in his eyes meant for you. You took a couple of timid steps back, feeling the familiar twist in your stomach as he matched your movement.

"All’s fair in love and war?"

____

On a flight reading through old stuff on my notes app, most things are unfinished but I wrapped them up so I could post parts of things at least. Sorry I don’t write fr anymore maybe one day 🫣

[sev-on-kamino]

I hope your day is going better than mine

But whenever you have time could I get some fluffy headcannons about how the boys would react to receiving a flower crown from the reader

I’m so sorry you’re having a bad day, shades 😔 Let’s see what I can do to give you some good vibes, yeah?

Written while listening to ‘Adore You’ by Harry Styles

The Boys react to receiving a flower crown

Kix

He’s observant in general, but especially when it comes to you, so he definitely noticed you weaving the brightly colored blooms together.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, and blushed slightly when you finished and looked up at him.

He watched as you walked over, your delicate creation in hand, and gave the softest little gasp as you placed the crown on his head.

“You were making this for me, mesh’la?”

When you nod, his eyes grow impossibly soft, and he caresses your face.

“It’s perfect. I love it.”

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, and proudly wears it the rest of the day.

Howzer

He’s always ready to spend his downtime with you, and if that means the two of you wind up in a meadow to enjoy the sunset, so be it.

You’ve gathered loads of purple and blue flowers and settle between his legs, leaning against his chest to weave them together.

You ask him to tell you how his day went, and he presses a kiss to the side of your head before telling you about the shenanigans his squad got into, and how it would have tickled you, while he watches you handling the delicate blossoms.

When you finish your work, and turn to face him on your knees, he looks up at you with a grin that makes your heart race.

You place the crown over his perfectly styled hair and marvel at your handiwork.

“You spoil me, cyare. How do I look?”

You tell him he looks beautiful.

“All thanks to you,” he says, reaching up to pull you down for a gentle kiss.

Hunter

You know how sensitive he is to smells, so you’ve been carefully figuring out which scents agree with him and which do not.

Armed with this knowledge you track down blooms that will smell nice together, and are subtle enough to not assault his senses.

You find him twirling his vibroblade around, and he watches your approach with a raised eyebrow, and a smile tugging at his lips.

You’ve got his little present tucked behind your back, but you’re sure he can already smell them.

He’s kind and allows you to bring the crown out with a flourish without spoiling the surprise.

When you ask if they’re alright, if you can place the crown on his head, he nods and tilts forward.

You rest it on his head, and smile at the way it clashes hilariously with his skull bandana.

You ask if he likes it.

“You made it, mesh’la, of course I do. Thank you.”

He tugs you into his lap, and treats you to soft kisses and snuggles.

Rex

Even during downtime, Rex is always needed somewhere, busy with something, taking care of everyone in some way or another.

You decide a little surprise to show your appreciation is in order, and gather up the prettiest assortment of flowers you can find, weaving together an elaborate crown.

When you finally find him on his own, you grab him by the hand and tell him you need two minutes for just the two of you.

He hesitates, as there are still things that require his attention, but ultimately gives in because he hates telling you no. It’s only 2 minutes after all.

You ask him to kneel in front of you, and once he does, you pull off his bucket. He raises a brow at that, but keeps his position.

As though it were made of gold and jewels, you place the flower crown on his head, and tell him every king needs a crown.

He blinks up at you, words failing him at the gesture and the fact you just referred to him as a king.

He rises to his feet, and takes you by the hand, dragging you off towards the field where you gathered the flowers.

You ask where he’s taking you.

“The queen needs a crown too,” he says with a grin.

Wolffe

He’s figured out by now that you show love in all sorts of unexpected ways.

It’s love when you sneak him a pack of his favorite candy during a briefing.

It’s love when you fuss over him after an injury no matter how minor.

It’s love when you won’t go to sleep until he does.

So when he sees you roaming through the base, brow furrowed, something brightly colored held carefully in your hands, he can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

He waits for you to spot him, schooling his face into a neutral expression, but he can feel the smile tugging at his lips.

When your face lights up, and you practically sprint to his side, it’s all he can do not to grin like love struck fool.

You hold up the crown with a dazzling smile, and ask if he likes it, and beam when he tells you it’s beautiful like you.

You ask where he wants to keep it, and he gives you a curious look for a moment, and you deflate a little, wondering if it’s too much.

“Isn’t it supposed to go on my head, bunny?” he asks with that warm smile he reserves for you.

You blink in surprise, before nodding, and placing the crown on his head.

You look up at him, eyes full of affection. Every bit of it is mirrored on his face.

“When did you have time to do this?” he asks, kissing your cheek.

You tell him when it comes to him, there’s always time.

He adds flower crowns to the ways you show love.

tag list: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @iamburdened @sunshinesdaydream @dukeoftheblackstar @rexxdjarin @wolffegirlsunite @808tsuika @sleepingsun501 @starrylothcat @ladyzirkonia @wings-and-beskar @pb-jellybeans @clio3kantarella @staycalmandhugaclone @stardusthuntress

also tagging: @freesia-writes this is my first time writing anything with Howzer, and I deffo want your opinion on how I did 😅

[letsquestjess]

Protective Measures - Part 3 (Howzer x GN!Reader)

Summary: It has been too long since you last saw Howzer, and after his escape, the first thing he wants is to see you.

Word count: 2.2K

Warnings: Usual Empire stuff mentioned in the first part.

Part 1 | Part 2

Fic Masterlist

-- -- -- -- --

Order 66. That is what they were calling it. The eradication of the Jedi at the hands of the clones who had fought beside them and trusted them. The vindication of a new empire, ruled with a ruthless grip. Each passing day saw the relentless exploitation of planets, depleting them of all their valuable resources and smothering any signs of rebellion. Thousands resisted and died. And as the galaxy’s suns rose and fell, more perished. 

News of Imperial bloodshed reached you daily, and it hadn’t taken you long to question the integrity of this new authority. The calculated methods hinted at a meticulous plan prepared before the fall of the Jedi. If that were the case, the alleged assassination attempt against the chancellor may not have been wholly unjustified, but you knew better than to voice your doubts. Instead, you locked them away and remained vigilant. 

Everything changed in a blink, in a whisper, and your life altered with it. Colleagues you had known for years started voicing their dissent and vanishing, and with each disintegrating world, the Emperor’s dominion grew stronger. You had managed to retain control of your own planet, but barely. It wouldn’t take much time before you faced demands you were not willing to meet. 

To add to the mounting pressure of your job, your communications with Howzer had ceased. After your visit to Ryloth, you had both kept in touch via holo-communications, cherishing stolen moments to talk or respond to messages. But since that day, since the galaxy was turned upside down, you hadn’t been able to reach him. 

“You look as if the weight of the world rests upon your shoulders,” Riyo Chuchi remarked, interrupting herself as she rambled about the recent senate meeting. 

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Or at least I will be.” 

The Pantoran smiled kindly, but an underlying worry tinged the gesture. With a hand to your elbow, she veered you into a deserted corridor. “You haven’t seemed yourself, and I can see that something is on your mind.” 

Her intuition wasn’t wrong. You had plenty to trouble you, but there were some burdens you locked deep down so that nothing could reach them. Burdens that haunted you in the depths of the night while the hail pounded the windowpanes and preoccupied your thoughts whenever you spotted an elegant bouquet or the first speckles of sunlight. Like the flecks in his eyes, you remembered. 

However, there was one topic you knew you could discuss with her, a common concern you both shared. “Riyo, do you agree with what the Empire is doing?” you asked, lowering your voice and checking that there was nobody lurking nearby. “I’ve heard things, things I probably shouldn’t have and… The Republic wasn’t perfect, we made many mistakes, but we never would have done this. People are disappearing in alarming numbers. Families are being torn apart. The slightest hint of insurrection and Imperial soldiers are wiping out villages.”

“I have also heard of some disturbing events,” Riyo admitted. “The more I hear, the more I question what we’re doing, but we have to be careful of what we say, at least for now. All we can do at the moment is keep on fighting for the clones, and maintain a low enough profile that the rest of the senate thinks we are unaware of certain liberties they have taken.” Her pale yellow gaze dropped, and a troubled wrinkle squeezed at her brow. “This is not what I become a senator for, and I understand it is the same for you, but we still have the ability to help people.”

“We do,” you said with an inkling of hope in your heart. But for how long, you left unspoken. 

* * *

Accompanied by the melodic tune on the radio, you whisked the lumps from the sweetened batter and poured it into the little trays, mopping up the stray blobs and slipping them into the oven. While it may have seemed unusual to other senators for one in your position to refuse any staff arrangements, you found comfort in tending to your own needs. Following the incident on Ryloth, the former senate had clarified that tighter security was non-negotiable, and you had had to relent, but unless there was an issue, they left you in peace. 

As the oven emitted thin beeps, you gingerly took out the trays. With careful coaxing, the cakes popped from the mould and gushed out ribbons of vanilla-scented steam. Once the bowl was full to the brim, you plodded into the living room. Your days were usually hampered with work, leaving little time for self-indulgence, but you made an effort to carve out moments of quiet whenever you could. 

You activated the buttons on the armrest of the sofa as you sat down to eat and the holographic television blinked to life. Among the holo-dramas and news bulletins, you lingered on a garden documentary. The pruned flora and the spread of pastel petals transported you back to the secluded plot of land on the outskirts of Lessu, and a thin layer of tears clung to your lashes. The devoted warmth that had caressed your face and the delicate scents that had invited you in. And the man who had walked by your side. Who had made you laugh so much that your cheeks ached and opened up to you in one of the most vulnerable ways. 

Howzer, you thought, momentarily closing your eyes and summoning the image of the clone captain. 

A worried grumble fluttered from your lips and you set the bowl of tiny cakes on the seat beside you. There was no way of finding out what had happened to him. The stars above only knew how you’d tried, discreetly checking the Ryloth accounts and making tactful inquiries just to catch a hint of his whereabouts. In the back of your mind, you realised you may never see him again, but you stubbornly refused to entertain such a grim thought. I’d know it, you convinced yourself. He’s still out there somewhere. 

Amidst the uncertainty, you took a deep breath and returned to your well-deserved dessert, immersing yourself in the narrator’s vivid descriptions of each flower and their vital role in the delicate environment of the outer-rim planet. Enthusiasm dripped from her voice, and for a time it distracted you. Enough that when the buzzer screeched, you almost dropped the bowl in your hands. 

You hurried to the door and stole a glance at the visitor identification by the intercom system, disabling the locks and ushering your guest inside. “Senator Chuchi,” you said as she lowered her hood. “I wasn’t expecting any callers tonight. Is everything okay? Has something happened?” For a frightening moment, you worried your conversations had been discovered, but the Pantoran’s composed demeanour dispelled your concerns. 

“Do not panic, senator. All is well,” she replied. “I am not disturbing any plans, am I?” 

“No, not at all.”

“Good.” Riyo glanced towards the door, her attention drawn to the orderly row of jackets hanging on the hooks. “I would recommend you bring a thick coat. It’s rather cold out tonight.”

“Why?” you asked, spotting a rare, mischievous glint in her features. “Where are we going?” 

Noting the unease in your voice, the senator retrieved a small, transparent bag of rounded chocolates from her pocket and presented it to you. Your heart soared and pounded. 

“There is someone who would like to see you,” Riyo said, depositing the packet in your hand before she strolled to the entrance of your apartment. “But we need to be discreet.”

* * *

Senator Chuchi hadn’t been mistaken. The merciless chill bit at you through your layers of clothing and a fierce howl bounced between the buildings. Goosebumps crept up your skin and your breath curled in huffed streams. 

As you descended to the lower levels of the city, the elements filtered into the tunnel and gradually eased. Alleys and walkways painted a mosaic of shadows and artificial light on your path. At the faint vibration of your footfalls, small creatures scurried out from the bins, and the metal casings rattled as they scooted away. 

“Riyo,” you said in a hushed tone, tugging at your hood. “Where exactly are we going?” 

“Just a little further,” the senator replied. She gestured to an air taxi, the engine purring, and smuggled inside. 

You followed her in and settled down, observing the kaleidoscope of neon lights zooming by in a disorienting blur as you journeyed to your unknown destination. 

Your legs bounced with the faint rhythmic pulse of the vehicle. Only one person was aware of the chocolates, but a twinge of doubt tempered your anticipation. For all you knew, someone else awaited, someone with bad news. 

Part way down the underground portal, the air taxi came to a smooth halt at a landing point. Filled with trepidation, you climbed out and craned your neck to look up at the shutters, trying to figure out where you were. Riyo tapped a signal onto the corrugated metal and the massive doors shuddered, revealing a narrow gap for you to squeeze through. 

The accompanying senator wriggled in first, the sliver of light leaking through the divide temporarily engulfing her slight frame. Once she had disappeared, you manoeuvred your way inside the repair shop.

“What is this?” you asked, taking in the shelves stacked with dusty ship parts and unopened crates that provided a resting spot for the chatting soldiers. 

“A place of security for the clones,” Riyo explained. “It’s an underground network that I have been assisting. I wanted to tell you about it, but it would have put you at considerable risk.”

“These are unsettling times,” you assured her, eyes brimming with understanding. “Thank you for not taking my safety lightly.” 

“I hope your journey here wasn’t too troublesome, senators,” Captain Rex said, winding the entryway closed and acknowledging both of you with a firm nod. 

“I waited until nightfall, as you advised,” Riyo replied. “Is he here?” 

Rex waved towards a shelving unit, drawing your attention to the clone engaged in a conversation with one of his brothers. Gone was the familiar white and teal armour; now he wore a dark under suit and navy vest. More like a prisoner than a captain, but it was unmistakably him. 

You inched closer, the sight before you seeming too surreal to be true. How many times had you dreamed of this moment? How often had your thoughts roamed on lovelorn feet to the memory of how his smile had warmed you, how his comforting words had sung to you like a lullaby? 

Your timid footsteps stirred him from his conversation, and his placid expression morphed into one of utter disbelief. In a rush, you ran towards each other and collided in a desperate embrace. He sank to his knees, and you willingly followed, squeezing him so tightly you felt the racing of his pulse. 

Howzer drew back, his forehead meeting yours, and he wiped away your tears and left a chaste peck on your lips. “Hush now,” he cooed. “It’s all right.”

“When I stopped getting messages, I feared the worst,” you admitted, straining to get the confession out through the knot in your throat. “What happened, Howzer?”

“There’s time for that later. I just want to enjoy having you here with me.” 

His words spurred your heart, and you couldn’t resist the urge to capture his lips in a fervent kiss. Others be damned. You didn’t care if they looked. Your captain was here, and that was all that mattered. 

Reluctantly, you parted to catch your breath, accepting his assistance as he helped you back onto your feet. Fresh scars littered his hands, glossy in the strong lamplight and mottled around the edges. Your thumbs glided over them, tracing every contour and silently cursing the people who dared to harm him. 

His melancholic smile deepened the creases above his cheekbones, and you pulled him closer, seeking to provide him with as much solace as you could. “I missed you,” you whispered.

“I missed you too,” he said just as reverently. “Whenever I could, I went to that garden, remembering how your eyes lit up when you first saw it and the softness of your voice as we spoke.” He kissed you again, inhaling your scent as if you alone could nourish his soul. “How you felt in my arms the night before you had to leave.”

Every shred of fortitude within you ignited. The months of arguing with the senate over clone matters teemed in your mind, and the intensity in that gold-flecked gaze only fuelled your determination to fight even harder. You would secure a home for them and shield them from ever having to endure such troubled times again. Even if it meant risking everything and abandoning the senate to join forces with Rex, it was a chance you would take. For Howzer, for the clones who aided your planet during the war, and for your suffering people. “Whatever we do next, we do together,” you spoke, resolute in your conviction.

His hands squeezed yours with a fierce determination, his expression overflowing with love and unwavering devotion, as he gave you a steadfast nod. “You and me,” he said. “Together.” 

TAGLIST (Message if you’d like to be added for future reader fics, 18+ only)

@skellymom @freesia-writes @the-hexfiles @theeyesofasoldier @multi-fan-dom-madness @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @tech-aficionado @techsriduur @dangraccoon @starrylothcat @jediknightjana

[freesia-writes]

Master List

All my writing will be PG-13 at most; I love the angsty yearning, the will-they-won't-they, the sweetness and softness of new love. However… smutty smut can be found over at @spicy-clones. 😎

Sign up for my tag list (or opt out) here, or even better, message me for a link to my tag list discord server, used only for posting works, no chatting or other stuff. 🙂

Quantum Entanglement: Howzer and Aurelia - Even as a cocky young shiny, there were a few people who saw the integrity and depth beneath Howzer's facade. Aurelia was one of them, but life tore them apart. However, when they found themselves reunited on Ryloth, with drastically different circumstances, they have to learn anew how to navigate a changing world and their undeniable feelings for one another. 67k words, 42 chapters, Finished/Paused til TBB Season 3 Click here for Master List

Tech and Vel - During the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch is tasked with a variety of missions across the galaxy. An unexpected addition to their team throws a wrench in the mix, particularly for Tech, who finds a particular connection with this disillusioned Padawan-turned-mechanic named Vel throughout the events in this action-adventure romance. 35 chapters, about 55k words total. Click here for Master List

Beyond the Shadow of a Doubt: Hunter x OC - Enjoy a riveting tale of romance, suspense, adventure, and self-discovery as Hunter finds his path after the events of TBB. With engaging imagery, emotional depth, comic relief, and some fun twists and turns, the story will take you on a delightful ride with our beloved Sergeant, leaving you satisfied as he finds his happily ever after… eventually. 😉 Click here for Master list

Waking Up with The Bad Batch (click for master list)

Waking Up with Rex

A Series of Dates: Gregor x Reader (click for master list)

500-Follower Prompt Requests (click for master list)

Clone Poetry (click for master list)

Wrecker x GN!Reader - medical care for you

Tech x GN!Reader - nostalgic Christmas in the kitchen

First Kiss Requests (click for master list)

CuddleFluff Clone Drabbles (click for master list)

TBB Prompt Event #1 - "You're the Worst" "Yeah, well you still like me!" - Hunter x F!Reader

Pets4Vets: Jesse Miniseries

The Master List of Tagged Fun Posts

Master List of TCW/TBB Fan Artists

Drabbles in response to fun anonymous asks

Howzer Headcanons in an Earth AU .

Clone Helmet Dividers - Help Yourself!

Spicy Clone Dividers - Help Yourself!

Bad Batch Dividers - Help Yourself!

More Bad Batch Dividers - Help Yourself!

Full-Body and Head Bad Batch Dividers - Help Yourself!

Cozy Comfy Clone Dividers - Help Yourself! .

Life Update During Hiatus

Master list of Star Wars terminology I have to save forever

Master List of Echo Fics by Other Authors

Master List of TCW/TBB Longfics by Other Authors

[nahoney22]

Would it be possible to commission you for a few more one shot of the spontaneous helmet kiss prompt for the other batchers and possibly other clone soldiers like Rex or Howzer?? I WAS IN LOVE WITH YOUR TAKE WITH TECH’S!

Thank you & Absolutely you can! Let’s gooo (decided to just do little one shots in this post, hope u don’t mind nonny 😚)

Helmet Kisses

All Bad Batch boys + Rex, Fives & Howzer X GN!Reader

Little HC about reader giving our boys a spontaneous helmet kiss.

warnings: none, pure fluff. Little mentions of injury. Not proofread

A/N- Originally inspired by this post by @whoneedsname501. I’ve already done Tech which you can read here so this will be all the others 😊

Masterlist

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

☾ Echo

This man was smitten the day he had met you so when you kissed him on the helmet one day, his body just did not compute what happened.

The Batchers including him had been away on a mission for two days now and thought it was best that you stay with the ship as a ‘just incase’. Which, you didn’t mind.

You were in a forest in Raxxus and wildlife was absolutely your thing. The sight of new plants, herbs and animals always amazed you and it was something Echo thought was quite endearing about you. Although he is usually grumpy, he did perk up around you when you would go on a tangible rant and rave about something new.

On his return back to the ship, he notices a strange looking orange plant with sweet smelling leaves. So, he grabs a handful (he did hide away from his brothers when he did this because he didn’t want to hike back to the ship with them teasing him all the way) and stuffs them in his pocket carefully and would give them to you on arrival.

You’re sitting on the steps of the ship with your head in your holopad when you heard the crunch of branches and leaves and sure enough your clones were in view.

“Hey guys! How’d it go?” You wave over at them, standing to your feet and bound down the steps to greet them.

They tell you all went well so in return you tell them you brewed something up for them food wise in the ship if they’re hungry. Of course, Wrecker went racing inside with the others following aside from Echo who hung back a little.

“Hello my Arc Trooper, you alright?” You beam at him teasingly as you nudge his shoulder playfully. Luckily for him, he was wearing his helmet still so he could hide the stupid smile on his face when you called him ‘my Arc Trooper’.

“Very well. Though, I found something you may be interested in?”

Your ears perk at this and watch as he reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. He hands it to you and your eyes widen in surprise. It was a herb from what you can tell but it was new and that excited you. “Oh wow!” You took them into your hands and inspected them closely. “They smell nice. Could be good in some stew of some kind?” You spoke more to yourself than at him but he watches you and again, smiles.

When you do look back at him to see him still standing there, you’re thankful for the kind gesture. So thankful that you don’t realise that you leaned towards him and placed a small kiss to the side of his helmet.

Echo stilled and cursed to all what was greater in the Galaxy for having his damn helmet on. But then again, would you have thanked him with a kiss if he didn’t?

Your mouth is moving as he stares at you but he hears nothing. It’s not until a confused expression crosses your face and you place a hand on his arm gently when his senses come back to him. “Are you okay?”

Nodding quickly, way too quickly for it to be believable he walks past you and goes to his bunk to research more rare herbs for another kiss to happen again.

☾ Hunter

“Hey Sarge, what are you doing up?”

Hunter turns around to face you and that’s when you spot your blaster in his grasp. “Did I wake you?” He questions you before you could ask what he was doing with one of your weapons.

“No,” you shake your head, stepping towards him to see what he was doing, “I usually wake at this time anyway. What are you doing with my stuff?” You question, curious and a little apprehensive. Truthfully, you were quite forgettable when it came to maintaining your kit and you really didn’t want to get in Hunter’s bad books. After all, you did have a tinchy-tiny crush on the long-haired Clone.

His voice is a little modulated by his helmet but you’re sure he chuckles a little before holding up a rag. “Cleaning your gear for you.”

Your face drops and a wave of embarrassment and shame washes over you. “Hunter, you don’t have to do that. I’m sorry, I thought I was up to date with all this stuff.” You grimace at yourself for being foolish.

Hunter didn’t need his senses to know how tense you suddenly got and he hated that he could have made you anxious for no fault at all. “Easy there cyare,” he says very softly and almost hesitantly places a hand on your shoulder, “I’m only cleaning it because I saw it on the side when I was doing mine. Thought I’d, uh, spruce it up a little.” He tries not to show that he’s shy at the confession but he’s also trying to hold his own as he feels the warmth of your body seeping in through his gloved hand.

Relief washes over you and your shoulders drop in relaxation. “You didn’t have to do that for me.” You’re blushing a little and his heart picks up as he notices that his action had good consequences.

“Wanted to. You’ve been busy taking care of us lot so it’s only fair.” He says casually, looking back to your blaster and giving the barrel a bit of a wipe. “Don’t want it jamming up in battle now do we?”

You watch him and the action you want to do next is a bit of a risk but since it would only be on his helmet, you weren’t breaking a huge boundary in your mind. So, you ever so gently place a hand on his shoulder this time, lean up and place a kiss to the right side of his helmet.

His reaction is quick as he turns to look at you, baffled but also feeling very warm and grateful. “W-what was that for?” He stammers, not realising the rag in his harsh grasp had slipped onto the floor.

Gushing at what you did, you tuck your hands behind your back and rock back and forth on your heels shyly. “Just a thank you.”

“Can you do it again?” He blurts out.

☾ Wrecker

Usually, your sparring buddy would be Hunter so when you heard that Wrecker wanted to you were both very excited yet a little nervous. After all, he was a very large and muscular guy.

“Ya ready for this cyar’ika?” You tried to ignore the feeling you got at the name, something he would always call you out of endearment.

You alter your stance, hands coming up in defence whilst Wrecker forms his offence position. You pause for a second and frown. “You’re wearing your armour? How am I meant to spar with you?”

He laughs behind his helmet. “Gotta be prepared for all types of scenarios. Now c’mon over ‘ere and hit me with ya best shot!” He teases whilst also being deadly serious.

So you do. You managed to land a few blows and managed to dodge those he threw back at you. It’s going well, well you thought it was until a piece of uneven ground decided to surprise you that sent you toppling down whilst in an awkward grappling embrace with Wrecker who falls down too.

He’s quick however and softens your fall all the while he places his hands on either side of your head to stop himself from completely crushing you. Sweat glistens at your brow and a sigh of relief washes over you.

“Kriff, you alright?” He too sighs in relief but you’re too tense to speak as his right hand cups your bare cheek, as if to inspect you.

You gulp, a little flustered when you realise that Wrecker, someone who you had liked for a while, was hovering over your body and giving you the softest of touches to your face. “F-fine.”

“Ya sure? Didn’t hurt ya did I?” He’s nervous in his question, knowing that he was a little more rough-handed than the others and the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you.

A smile grows on your face and you softly nod. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“But I do worry. A lot.” He sighs, almost as if he was ashamed and at blame that you could have gotten hurt which couldn’t have been further from the truth.

No matter how many times you would reassure him, he would think the latter and so as you gaze up at him through his visor, a bold idea pops into your mind.

Ever so gently, you prop yourself up on your elbows and purse your lips before kissing his helmet, a little bit over where his lips would have been if it weren't for the gear.

The second you pull away, blood rushes to your cheeks as you whisper to him that you really were alright but Wrecker was in to much shock to even do anything. It wasn’t until you spoke his name softly that he snapped out of this haze.

“You kissed me.” He states, a wide smile behind his bucket.

“Technically I kissed your helmet.” You smirk a little, head tilting to the side and into his hand that he still hadn’t moved.

A second later, he pulls the helmet away from his head and sure enough, the man is flustered to the max and shyly asks if he could kiss you.

☾ Crosshair

Kissing Crosshair on his helmet would either be the best decision you had made or the worst. There were no thoughts in your mind when you did it but there were certainly a lot of thoughts in his mind.

It’s a late evening, so maybe you were a little drowsy when you spontaneously kissed him but you were all playing a game of Sabacc. One by one, each batcher got eliminated until it was just the two of you left. The others had gone off to bed which just left you and Cross. Truthfully, you had no idea how you managed to beat the likes of Echo and Tech but somehow you did.

“You know it’s kinda cheating wearing your helmet, Cross.” You taunt with a playful wiggle at your brows.

“No it isn’t. It’s strategic.” He mumbled, eyes focused on his set of cards. You had no idea if he was looking at you or the cards.

“That strategy being able to see what cards I have with the vision in your helmet?”

“Disabled. Now make your move.” He prods at you with a kick of his foot under the table to which you kick back just as hard.

There’s tension in the air but after all, there’s a measly ten credits at stake.

When your cards are shown, you hear a small snarl as Crosshair slams his luminescent cards on the table which only meant:

“Have I won?!” You try to bite down your excitement but it’s hard to do when it comes to beating Crosshair at something. For the first time, too.

He’s grumbling but as you finally let out a small cheer and scoop up your credits, he can’t help but smile a little underneath his helmet upon seeing you so happy. “Well played.”

He stands and you do too but as he does, a bunch of credits fall off his lap. You’re confused but then the slow realisation of what was really happening dawned on you. “YOU CHEATER!”

Cross freezes and raises his hands in mock defence. “I see it as helping you win against Tech.” The Marksman declares casually. You can’t help but feel a little deflated that he had been helping you win all along somehow but you were curious as to why he would let you win in the first place.

“Didn��t know you were a softie for me.” You’re teasing him but you noticed how stiff as a board he got. Him being called soft felt odd but it wasn’t something he found not necessarily hating.

“Am not.” He mutters, voice raspy as he stares you down as you approach him.

“Yeah yeah,” you roll your eyes, smiling up at him through his visor, “goodnight Crosshair.”

Then you kissed him. Well, you leaned up and placed a kiss in the middle of his breath filters, the centre of his helmet where his lips would have been.

You realised what you did straight away and backed away, mumbled a quick apology before scooting off but Crosshair was adamant to get the real deal.

You heard footsteps behind you and you were certain it was Crosshair who was about to give you a telling off. But when you turned around to face him, you didn’t expect him to be ripping his helmet off and tossing it to the side as he bound towards you.

“If you’re gonna kiss me, do it properly.”

In a second, he has you pinned to the wall with his body, one hand in your hair and the other to your waist as he flushed his lips to yours in a heated embrace.

Your eyes are wide and hands are flailing pathetically as you were both unsure where to put them or if you could even touch him. A second before you felt yourself melt into the kiss he pulled away, panting a little but there was that infamous smirk.

“Better?” You gasp out, not quite believing what just happened.

“Better.”

Bonus

☾ Rex

Seeing Rex get injured on the battlefield crushed your heart. Thankfully, he only came into the medic tent with a sore ankle and a nasty blaster shot to his left arm.

He didn’t like his teammates seeing him like this and so those who could leave, you politely discharged to give your Captain some more space.

Rex is laying on a cot as you sit on a stool beside him when you’re patching up his arm. “Can’t believe I got shot.” He grouches, wincing a little as you fix up a tender spot.

“You’re a soldier, Captain. It’s bound to happen some time.” You say as a matter of fact. It wasn’t exactly a nice truth, but a truth nonetheless. To which, he agreed with a small grunt.

“Suppose. And I told you to call me Rex.” He lifts his head up a little to gaze across at you, heart fluttering as he becomes easily smitten at your deep concentrating face.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed a medpatch, applying it to the wound in the hopes it’ll heal up nicely. “Well Rex,” you say playfully, helping him sit up, “you’re all done.”

He cranes his neck to the side and swings his legs around on the cot. He knows he has to go back out there and finish the mission, but he found himself much rather being here and beside you. His crush on you was deepening but he just didn’t know how to tell you. “Thank you. You’re, uh, a great medic.”

It’s awkward the way he compliments you but from him? It meant everything. You always valued what he had to say and to hear him praise you sent a warmth through you. “I appreciate your words Cap- I mean Rex.” You enthuse shyly. “But it’s best if you get back to it.” With a nod towards the front of the tent where the mission was happening just on the outskirts, Rex sighs but nods in agreement.

He stands and places his bucket back on his head. He’s turning to face you to bid his goodbyes when you lean up and place a kiss to the centre of his helmet. His eyes comedically widen and his lips part in pure awe as he watches you giggle, wave him off and quickly rush to the aid of a new incoming clone. Rex definitely had to speak to you about that kiss later.

☾ Fives

You both like each other, that much is clear but you’re too shy to make commitments just yet but Fives still wanted you to know that you were all he wanted when he had the chance.

It was a quick start to some romance; love at first sight if you will. He saw you leaning on a bar one night, uninterested in your date at the time when the two of you locked eyes across the room. Then that was it, you were both rather smitten. And you loved, adored his teasing.

However, liking someone in the GAR is never easy. Especially a clone. Not only is it frowned upon by superiority forces, but there was always the risk of never seeing them again. And sadly, today could be one of those days.

Fives comes up to you in the Hangar before he’s set to leave for a mission. He’s already suited up in his Arc Trooper armour and if it wasn’t so bittersweet, you would say that you definitely had the hots for him right now.

“Mesh’la, we’re leaving soon.”

You smile sadly, wrapping your arms around your body as the two of you walk somewhere a little more private and out of ear and eye shot. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?” Your tone is meak and it crushes Fives to hear.

“I don’t know this time.” He says truthfully, stopping to stand in front of you. “But I’ll come back for you? Okay? I promise.”

It’s hard not to get emotional with goodbyes and it’s especially harder when you find yourself having some unexplainable feelings for someone. “You better.”

You take a step to him, shaking hands coming up to grip the side of his helmet before you bring his head down a little so you could plant a kiss to his helmet, just where you wished his lips would be.

“Oh mesh’la please let me take it off so I can kiss you properly.” He begs quietly, taking a hold of your waist but you shake your head with an emotional smile.

“Come back to me first… then we can kiss forever.”

☾ Howzer

Howzer came to your market stall more and more as the weeks passed by. You’re new to the city and had already taken the eye of a certain Clone Captain.

You sold an arrangement of bric-a-brac things including the odd jewel and you always managed to have something new that Howzer was interested in.

He’s walking into the market, meant to be patrolling but when in reality he just wanted to see you. But on his arrival he hears shouting followed by

some smashing. He rushes to see the commotion and is flawed when he sees you get robbed! In broad daylight!

“GET BACK HERE!” He calls after the thief and begins his mad dash to retrieve whatever was stolen and to also implement a form of punishment.

You're saddened by the events and do your best to tidy up the mess that was caused, sweeping the smashed vase on floor up. Even some of the locals helped too.

“Sorry about that, but the perpetrator has been caught and taken into custody by some of my men.” You turn to see Howzer walking towards you and you smile thankfully at him.

“Thanks for that. Not what I needed today at all.” You sigh, placing your hands on your hips as you look at the mess that you still had to clear up.

Howzer gives you a sympathetic smile yet it’s covered by his helmet so you couldn’t see it. But for some reason, you had felt it.

“I believe this belongs to you?” He holds out the stolen item, a ring.

“Yeah. They didn’t even steal it from the stall either. Yanked it straight off my finger!” You frowned at first but that soon dwindled as you let Howzer - quite sweetly you may add - slip it back on your finger.

He realises his actions may have come across a little… intimate but he saw how happy you were to have the ring back and that’s all that mattered. You both look at each other with a hint of awkwardness until you break it by saying you should close shop for the day.

He understands but is a little dejected that he didn’t get to speak to you as much as he would like. But then, you leaned across and placed a kiss to the side of his helmet. “Thanks again for the help. Means a lot.” You say softly before walking away.

Howzer is left pretty dumbfounded. He also felt slight guilt that he wouldn’t mind if he was your saviour again from getting robbed if that was the reward. Maybe he could ask you out on a date if he read your relationship with each other correctly

Please remember to comment or reblog to show support to our writers and artists ♥️

Masterlist

tags: @teletraan-meets-jarvis @jennamelinda12 @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz z @captxin-rex x @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka a @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @adriiibell @theroguesully @equalityforcats @rexandechosandwich @mustluvecho @inagalaxywickedfahaway @misogirl828 8 @ladykatakuri i @sadspring @chxpsi @alexandrisonfire @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @salaminus @by-the-primes @torchbearerkyle @tech-aficionado @in-the-crosshairs @therealnekomari @a-c-lee @autumnleaves1991-blog @tech-depression-inventory @mylifeinthetardisforever @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @lucyysthings @the-good-shittt @buddee @s1st3r @cosmic-persephone @imalovernotahater @ilovebadboys

[fandom-friday]

Hello friend Karrde!

I hope that all here have been well and prosperous, or at least not buried in snow like me. I have more offerings again for the rec list! I apologize because this is gonna be a whopper of a list too, totally understand if it doesn't make it in this week.

On the Art side of things:

@pinkiemme has been rocking our world with both Commanders Wolffe and Mayday... such scrumptiousness. But then I saw this panel of Captain Rex and... (crying).

@rexxdjarin again with the thick and healthy series latest Echo and Gregor... the study of muscular anatomy is so on point!

@sunshinesdaydream has given us the adorable duo of Hardcase and Sparks

@spicyclones79s has gifted us Omega & Hunter, Commander Wolffe, and a very sweet Foxio

@ladykagewaki always has my heart with the Bebe batch snuggles But also Ms. Fangirl has shared how to summon Echo (May contain spoilers!)

@cloned-eyes made me smile with Wrecker and his little friends but then sob when I saw Jenot.

Comic Recs!:

@paperback-rascal is back with mercy and co with an interesting neurologic finding on Major 40

Fic Recs!:

@pickleprickle 's Newest fic features an injured Mace Windu in the wake of the Empire's rise in Shattered Sunrise. When I say I binged the first two chapters... go read!

if anyone is in need of a Howzer Fic after @the-rain-on-kamino has just reposted their Exigency series. I didn't get a chance to read it the first time and am making my way through it now and let me tell ya... the love, the longing, the CAPTAIN! oh and the build up to the SMUT!

Hopefully I'll have the other comic pieces gathered together for next week and a few more recs. Till then happy reading!

This is one HECK of a list that's got a little something for every TCW/TBB fan out there! I love all of the artwork, and the fics are phenomenal!!!

(Quick correction: the art of Hardcase and Sparks was a commission done by @cloned-eyes)

As always, THANK YOU for taking the time to pull all these together!!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

[dragonrider9905]

Can you pleaaaaaaase do a Howzer x Female Medic!reader with the prompt 36 😭

I need some good angst in my life. I feel like maybe they’ve both known each other for ever but don’t actually confess until it’s a life or death situation and Howzer has to get the gal to leave against her will to protect her 🥹🥲

it can end in death if you want ☠️

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh @carolinetano7567 dear, be very very careful what you ask for ;D You may end up hating me after this XD

Please don't ;D I love you Caroline! XD Can even end in death? ohhhh girl don't tempt me because you know what you'll get? And with sweet Howzer too? ohhh noooo!

I hope you like it!!!! After reading your request I had to think hard but then the idea struck and boom, the angsty angst train arrived. One serving of angst coming right up! Hope you enjoy this :D Thank you SO much for dropping in the request <3 Love you girl!!!!!

36. "I can't leave you here!" "You can and you will!"

Night Reveals All Regrets

Prompt List

Celebrating You Masterlist

Summery: The battle of Teth was bloody. Then Lieutenant Howzer and his favorite medic are caught up in the middle of it. It's time to face how you feel about each other before it's too late. Warning: Angst, no comfort; major character death

You were surrounded. You could feel the heat of the blaster bolts as they flew by, searing everything in it's path. Lieutenant Howzer stood back to back with you as the great battle of Teth reigned chaotically around you. Serving under the great Captain Rex, Howzer was rising quickly through the ranks for his heroics. This was one of the bloodiest battles yet, and Rex already lost a lot of good men.

Your company was sent up ahead to scout and report back about Separatist movement, but ended up getting caught in a surprise attack. The firefight was fierce and the men you served with were dropping all around you.

"You need to get out of here!" Howzer shouted above the din, shooting from double blasters as droids made their way toward you.

"No, I'm not leaving you!" you responded, defiantly, voice scratchy with emotion and dust.

"GO!"

"I can't leave you here!"

"You can and you will!"

"If you don't make it out of here, I don't want to either!"

At your words, Howzer spun around and grabbed you by the shoulders.

"I'd rather it be me than you. You deserve a chance at a life. That's what I was made for..." he paused, "and that's what my heart was destined for."

Your jaw dropped.

"Howzer..."

"Hey, in case we don't make it out of this, I need you to know."

Spinning you around, wrapping one arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, he shot at more advancing droids. He kicked your legs from under you into a controlled roll.

His strong arms encircled you and forced you along until you came to a fallen tree. He knelt and helped you to his level. He didn't remove his hands from your shoulders, steadying you from the dizzy action or perhaps grounding himself for what he was to say--you weren't sure which.

"Firstly, I'm so sorry for our argument. It was dumb. I don't like not talking. Please, forgive me."

You placed your hand on Howzer's helmet where his cheek would be.

"Of course I do."

He sighed in relief.

"Secondly but more importantly...I love you. If we make it out of this, would you marry me?"

Shock passed through your eyes, then disbelief. You squinted, leaning in closer to see if he was serious.

"You're ... not joking?"

"No." He squeezed your arms. "I'm not."

"Then yes, my answer is yes!" You smiled and hugged him, tears streaming from your eyes.

"Just promise me you'll make it out of this?" Howzer said, "No matter what. I need you alive and happy."

You swallowed hard, looking down as the world stood still. When you looked up, you looked directly into his eyes with a hauntingly knowing expression.

"I can't promise you that. You know why."

Your words echoed in his ears in the loud silence, rippling in resounding waves through his mind.

Before Howzer could respond, a blaster bolt ripped through his shoulder. The wound seared with firey pain and a scream burst from his lips.

"Howzer!"

You caught him as he fell forward but another one made impact on his back.

"No!"

Tears ran from your eyes as you helped him to the ground. You rummaged through your bag, tearing through things to get to what you needed, dumping supplies all around the ground in scattered fragments.

"No no no no!" A sob burst from your mouth. You brought your hand up to your mouth as if that'd be some comfort to you, blocking out what was happening in front of you.

"Hey, hey, it's ok." With a cough, Howzer spit up some blood. His hand searched for yours. You grabbed it firmly, stroking his face with the other. You cradled him closely to your chest, trying and failing not to cry.

He was surprisingly calm. He was happy. The pain was a little uncomfortable, but you were here and that's all that mattered to him.

A light shown around your head as he looked up at you, tears falling from your face to his. You started to sing a lullaby, the tune was one he was familiar with, slow and ethereal, but he couldn't make out the words you sang. Your voice seemed distant and echoey.

His focus shifted, and he felt light and willowing, like was floating in the air and drifting in a fast river.

At some point, he started coughing as his lungs closed in on themselves and the singing stopped. Instead, you clutched hard to him, begging him to stay with you just a while longer. You lifted him slightly, hoping he could breathe a little easier.

The floating sensation left, and was replaced with the imminent feeling of your sadness. Your eyes were glassy, and pain was written all over your face.

The yellow light still shone around your head, but the wind shifted and the feeling of warmth faded. When you opened your mouth, his peace left, dread and foreboding took it's place.

"It's not your time yet. I'll wait, I promise. But take your time, love. I miss you, and I love you too."

A shadow passed over you, and the concern and worry which were present in all your movements melted into a relaxed unconcern. All jagged movements melted away. Your ministrations turned sprite eerie, easy motions. The fear in your eyes turned devoid, replaced with an empty nothing. Your lips once pressed, now split into a wide smile.

Placing your hand on his cheek, your touch was soft, but cold; your voice gentle and sweet, like how it always was on a summer afternoon hidden away in secret.

"Howzer, wake up."

Howzer jolted awake, for the hundred-thousandth time, body soaked in sweat and panting from an exhaustion from an exertion he experienced every night in his dreams. But no matter how many times he dreamed it, no matter how many different forms it took, it always ended the same.

How he wished it would have happened.

Teth happened a year ago.

And nothing was as it should be.

There was no confession of love between you.

You never had time to make up for the argument you had. He couldn't to this day even remember what it was about, only that you were mad at each other and weren't on speaking terms.

Worse of all, he hadn't even been there when it happened--he'd read the report so many times, he could insert himself into the scenario and his dreams at night haunted his 'what-if's the day presented and re-ran through his mind.

There was no escape during the waking or the sleeping hours. All he could think about was you.

And how he failed.

You died never truly knowing how he felt about you. You died alone. You died with a misunderstanding forever hanging in the air between you and now no chance of ever clearing it or understanding each other.

You died without him ever asking the one question he would die a thousand deaths to ask.

Why did he ever let you out of his sight?

"We've secured the area for the moment, Lieutenant." One of the troopers under his command approached him. He gave Howzer a sour, sad look. "The surprise attack was bad. The company is all gone."

"What do you mean gone?" Howzer nearly shouted back. He tried to control himself but his heart started to pound against his chest.

Everyone knew that you and Howzer were close. No one knew the correct name to label your relationship, but it was undeniable that you two were inseparable and shared a special bond. Being the medic of his unit, you became the little sister of the group. Everyone loved and respected you, especially him.

"Fireball, what happened, tell me."

"I found her. She's gone."

Time froze and everything around him blurred. The floor felt like it was being ripped from under him. His stomach churned and threatened to give up what little it contained in a biting, rancid taste of acid. Urgency overtook him and the adrenaline rush caused the world to spin.

He had planned on talking to you and apologizing after the day's battle was done. When the advancing company asked for volunteers, you hadn't hesitated. It only took moments before his own company was caught in a firefight--a surprise attack of its own to handle. He fought long and hard in his zone and seeing how many brothers fell, made him realize he needed to talk to you. There was so much to say and in your line of duty, anything was possible. He vowed if he made it out, he'd tell you everything and make up for the foul up. If it hadn't been for the surprise attack, perhaps he'd have caught up with the second company in time. Those few seconds were a wasted, precious few seconds.

Lightyears and pain both traveled at the same speed, Howzer decided, and life was too short to let things go unsaid. In war, even shorter.

Howzer didn't remember when he started running but he was. He had to find you. See you for himself. He didn't even wait for Fireball to direct him to your place of rest. The pounding of his heart made him deaf and dumb.

Frantically turning his head and dodging in every direction with no thought of safety he searched the bodies littered on the ground. His brothers were everywhere. By each clone were ten droids. They'd fought valiantly and fallen with honor.

When he found your body, you were laying in a crumpled heap in the center of the men, covered in blaster bolts. Of course it took more than one to take you down. You were too stubborn to die from just one. They must have circled around you to protect you as long as they could, and yet, that wasn't enough. There were still more droids littered around the ground by you. He would have been proud, if he wasn't so overtaken by grief.

Trembling with shock, Howzer gently, he took your body in his arms and cradled you, rocking back and forth. He removed your helmet and his, resting them side by side. At least your face was free of pain, but it's pale beauty was empty of life. The flame in your eyes would never dance again.

"Cyare? Cyare, wake up. Wake up, please, don't go...don't go." With the back of his hand, he stroked your cheek which was somehow blurring and getting wet with little drops. He ran his fingers through your tangled hair and begged some sign of lift to show from the still form.

"Please, there's something I need you to know. There's something I have to tell you."

He didn't notice his brothers come up behind him, removing their helmets in silent respect. Nor did he see their own quiet grief at witnessing such a loss.

"Please, I love you, come back. Come back..."

"Stay with me, marry me, be my wife..."

"Forgive me...for everything."

Would you be alive if he'd been by your side? He would have taken your place in an instant. Could you both have had a future if perhaps you'd decided not to push forward with the company? What if you'd never argued? What if he told you how he really felt? What if he had gotten there sooner? Would he have been in time to save you? Even prevent you from being shot?

Would things be different?

Or would they have always ended this way, the same?

Hanging his head, he allowed the tears to flow. The night knew his secret regrets of the heart all too well. They surrounded him and offered the little comfort of their light best they could. Their light, which was a reflection of yours. Their warmth, only a fraction of the flame of your own.

The sun would never know his sadness. The stars were his only witnesses to grief, and the pale reminder of who you were. Perhaps they were telling him you weren't gone, but waiting for him like the dream said, but he couldn't understand their language.

Hanging his head, he cried.

What could have been if only one factor was different?

He'd never know.

Dividers by @djarrex

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕠𝕟𝕖 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕖𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕙𝕠𝕨𝕫𝕖𝕣

⋆ ★ ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 2023 ʟɪɴᴇᴜᴘ

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙᴏʏ, ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛʟʏ ɴᴏ ʀᴇᴀʟ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍʏ ʙᴀᴅ, ꜱᴛᴇᴀᴍɪɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʀɪᴅɪᴄᴜʟᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ᴛᴇᴅɪᴏᴜꜱ ʏᴇᴛ ꜱᴇxʏ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴘʟᴀʏ

⋆ ★ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴡɪᴛʜ, ᴡᴇʟʟ, ɴᴏ ʀᴇᴀʟ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴅ ᴍᴇ ʙʟᴜꜱʜɪɴɢ ꜰᴜʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ. ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ :)

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

“What would you like me to do for you?”

You turn your head, fixing your posture as you gaze at your boyfriend across the room. He’s dressed handsomely to the nines; the black uniform shines like patent leather, silver buttons catching the light like metalwork in a museum. His white waistcoat and dress shirt peek out from beneath, hugging his form and frame most enticingly. His hands folded at his front, gloved in white, curl slowly, stretching out his knuckles as if he were preparing himself. Everything about him is pure grace and gift, something you're so thankful to lay hungry, salacious eyes upon. You lean an elbow on your armrest, taking long and thoughtful libations of his appearance. Then, you think about what he asks you.

You don’t take long. Those few words provide all you need to know. It’s a part of your secret language, how you communicate while playing characters. It’s how you know Howzer is ready to serve you as your obedient butler tonight.

“That’s a good question,” You say, smiling coyly. You spin yourself in your chair and cross your legs, casually comprising yourself into a pretty glass of water for him to drink. “I’m not sure yet.”

Howzer nods curtly, swiping his covered palms against each other as he looks at your positioning by the vanity. He’s endlessly patient, this man; especially when tasked like this to serve. You adore it.

“I’ve cleaned the sitting room and the kitchen,” He informs, and you grin in approval. “I also folded all of the laundry.”

“Thank you,” You twirl a strand of hair between a finger and bite your lip as he inches closer. You tantalize and tease the other in your little game of cat and mouse as Howzer anticipates your next move, eager and curious to see what you have in mind.

“It’s simply my job, my lady.”

Your core tingles and your spine shivers in thrill.

“Of course,” You fake correct yourself. Howzer takes another step closer. You uncross your legs and smooth out the skirt of your dress. “If you have nothing else to do…”

Perking up, he watches your tongue swipe against your bottom lip and get tugged between your top teeth.

“Yes?” He waits for you to finish your sentence.

“Would you take off my shoes for me?” You lift a leg and point your toes in his direction with a raised eyebrow. It’s hard not to smirk.

You don’t expect him to comply so quickly. He drops to his knees and crawls toward you almost immediately.

He takes off your shoes, his peripheral vision guiding him as he keeps eye contact with you.

When both are off, Howzer slides a gentle palm up and down your right shin. You bite your lip.

“Good job.” 

The praise heats his cheeks.

“Of course.”

Howzer places your shoes on the floor, sliding off your socks with it, but his eyes are zeroed in on your exposed skin above, your legs set only a little spread. Not enough for him to fit his head between them, but certainly enough to get a good look.

He hisses. Crest of his chin dipping down, the motion is almost like he’s bowing to his high commander, keen to obey. He purses his lips and plants a firm, long kiss on the side of your calf. His eyes remain shut as he trails his mouth up and kisses the very beginning of your inner thigh.

You hum, patting his head and running your fingers through his soft hair in a soothing, overly doting manner.

“I think you’re a little distracted, Howzer,” you tell him with a fake frown.

“I’m sorry.” At least the apology seems profuse. “How would you like me to serve you, my lady?”

You pretend to take your time thinking thoughtfully over what you want him to do. But you already know. You spread your legs further.

“Slide my panties off…” Humming softly as he runs his hands on the outside of your thighs, slipping past your skirt and hovering over the waistband of your panties. You lean in further, nipping at his ear while one hand cradles his jaw. “...and eat.”

Something of a groan leaves his throat. His next words are barely a whisper, muttered against your skin when he leans in to finally get his fill, fulfill your request.

“As you wish…”

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[thecoffeelorian]

Chapter Title: The Bet

Word Count: 1,542 words.

Brief Description: Captain Howzer x Female Reader, Captain Howzer x Chandrilan Reader (Singular Love Interest). Just when you're one step away from getting onto the ship bound for Naboo...some unseen force of nature finally intervenes, and you then have to make the biggest decision of your life.

AO3: Link Here

Extra Notes: My Clone Trooper OC, Commander Miles, has his first speaking cameo in this story! Hope you all come to love him as much as I do!

Chapter Masterlist: Link Here

The No-Pressure Tag List: @skellymom @masterjedilenawrites @littlefeatherr @ceejay3636 @red-plaidedandcladed

@knightprincess @carlixz @zaryashame @amazonian-bae @badbatchjedi

@weirdest-lights @crosshair-lover @clxnewxrs @offspringsdaughter @liliskywalker

@sunshinefanfictioninsp @sunshinesdaydream @nerfpuncher @burningfieldof-clover @angrypaperearthquake-tbbb-main

@techhasmjolnir and anybody else who might want some more Howzer x Reader stories in their lives.

There's a cold chill growing upon the back of your neck as you step out of the line, your focus now trained solely upon this Trooper. Judging from the shape and placement of his pauldron, he's some kind of high command official, like a Captain or a Commander...and as of this moment, he just might be a few steps away from bringing you in for questioning.

“What seems to be the problem, sir?” Especially if, should your fears prove to be correct, your own father has found a way to keep you from leaving.

“Are you the eldest daughter of Julian Minola?” Which, apparently, he seems to have figured out right as you arrived at this spaceport.

“I...am an eldest daughter, Sir. Why do you ask?” In response, his right hand beg­ins to move toward his left wrist, a sure sign that you just might be one comm away from the lecture of your life. “Well, ma’am, I may have just received a message from your father—” “—It’s because of my father that I'm getting on board that ship, Captain...?” “Miles, ma’am. Commander Miles.” You're not about to give up so easily, though. Not when you're standing just a few steps away from literal freedom. “May I ask if you’re, ah...dealing with any trouble at home?” In fact, if you can speak well enough to the Trooper before you...would it perhaps, be a possibility that you end up convincing him to let you go?

“...Of a sort, Commander.”

“And that is?”

“Simple. I’m not staying in a place where I’ll be sold off to the highest bidder.”

At first, you see this Commander’s entire stance go rigid, and for a moment, you can almost swear he’s about to call your father to this very spot himself. Perhaps you might even deserve such a response as well, considering you were literally one sentence away from broaching a very uncomfortable topic of discussion.

There go your hopes of getting away blame-free. On the other hand...even though your supposed ‘place’ is within a gilded cage and his was once within the line of fire, just how different are the two of you at the end of the day? Isn’t it an odd coincidence that the both of you were raised for one purpose and one purpose only, whether or not you try to fight it in the end?

Furthermore, isn’t it a cold hard fact of life that women can die in the delivery room just as easily as men do on the battlefield, especially when the wrong people are left in charge? It certainly appears to be that way sometimes, what with the few but frightening tales about such things that you’ve read on the holonet late at night. Things that could easily happen to you or someone else you know, even if you all do your best to take the necessary precautions first.

Sure, you and your sister didn't come off of some genetic assembly line with countless other girls both ahead and behind you, but in the eyes of Chandrilan society, you’re not the first daughter to be married off and, chances are, you won't be the last for some time yet.

Not as long as there are more people around that cling to the old ways rather than changing or rejecting them.

It’s not that uncommon, either, for younger men on this planet to remarry within a few years of losing their first wives, if indeed ‘the worst’ should happen to them. According to a few old family stories, that was exactly how your father came to exist in the first place, as your paternal grandfather had once been married long before meeting your grandmother. Is it really too much to assume, then, that the both of you are replaceable?

“...Hm... and what about Captain Howzer?” Your line of thought is brought to a halt the moment this good commander chooses his next approach, and an unexpected one at that. “Who...?” ‘Howzer’? Who or what is that, some kind of obscure Trooper code word? “Captain Howzer, ma’am. The one who spoke to you earlier?” —Oh. Oh-h-h. So that was the interesting Trooper you just happened to meet in the middle of your escape. The one who didn’t look at you strangely or start asking you questions about where you were going, but just interacted with you instead like—like you weren’t something to be judged, or bothered by, and for that, you had started having—feelings. Awkward, yes...but still feelings.

You might have once thought that any and all of those awkward feelings had gone the moment that the two of you had gone your separate ways. Indeed, if the two of you were truly meant to never meet again, both you and that Captain might have eventually or gotten your first meeting, and so moved on with your lives. Now that you might, in fact end up speaking to him a second time, though...you feel that old heat rising in your cheeks all over again. “You...know each other?” “We’ve spoken before, all right.” A heat that could either excite you or embarrass you utterly, if it’s not dealt with in the correct manner. “So, then...what did he say about me?” But then again, there’s still your flight. Your one chance to trade Chandrila for Naboo, and it’s evident in the second pinging that you receive from your Comm. Can you really throw it all away now, just for somebody who might lose interest in you soon enough, if not also leave you behind instead? “Only that you were the kindest, sweetest lady he ever had the luck of meeting, and that he hopes you might yet return.” “ ‘Return’...?!” Can you really also run the future risk of some kind of complication when, or even if, whatever's waiting for you back home leads to the next generation of Minolas? “And how, Commander, do I end up explaining a change of heart to the Naboo University faculty? How do I explain it to the Queen?!” Oh, but your voice is getting shrill now, and perhaps also your bad temper right along with it. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end for you. This day wasn't supposed to be so jumbled, so confusing, as to send your mind into a tailspin. What, if anything, are you supposed to do with yourself now...? “Let me put it this way...” As though to answer you, the Commander touches a hand to his helmeted forehead, a single gesture might be a secret sign to remind you to calm down and think. “He’s eager to see you, that much is a given—but at the same time you’re eager to leave. I get that. I'm not going to make your decisions for you, ma’am, and you don’t have to listen to me if you don’t want to—but what if you were able to do both?” “ ‘Both’?” “Yep.” “How do I do both?” “Simple. You go back and listen to what he has to say, try whatever he offers for about a month...then, if it doesn’t work out for you, can go back to your original plan and leave for Naboo at your earliest convenience.” “What...you mean, like a bet?" “More of a trial run, really. That is, unless you’re willing to treat it like one?” “Hmm…” You absentmindedly finger the pouch full of credits hidden beneath your poncho, remembering the amount you'd saved up in secret before your escape. Would it be so wise to toss your money away upon a simple gamble, never mind a man who you don’t exactly know that well?

On the other hand, though...what if he did have a point here after all, and you ended up owing him instead? “...And what if I offered you five hundred credits as a reward, should I decide to stay?” The Commander becomes just a little bit flustered after hearing this, as he demonstrates the same nervous head-rubbing gesture that you’ve seen a handful of other Troopers do whenever they were stressed out or troubled. Clearly, you’ve given him a lot to think about in a short amount of time, if he hasn’t also done the same for you. “Well, I ah...I guess I would have to find a banker willing enough to open an account for me!” Nevertheless, if the possibility exists that Captain isn’t the only Trooper looking for a fresh restart in life, and as long as you yourself dislike the idea of an entire army getting left by the wayside— “Then I think you and I just might have a deal, Commander.” —Then let it be five hundred credits to start Commander Miles upon his way if he’s victorious, and if not, the longed-for flight to Naboo for you. “We may indeed, Miss Minola. Time to make it official.” Either way, the two of you seal the deal with a handshake, the sign of business in action...and then, just as the last of your three notifications comes, the commander finally motions to the pilot that she has full clear­ance to take off. Well, that's the end, perhaps, but only for now. For better or for worse, your one journey may be postponed, all right...but another journey seems to be just beginning, even if you can't exactly be too sure of the outcome just yet.

Maybe this time, though, if you keep a full heart and an open mind...you’ll be better prepared to see it through.

[neon-junkie]

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?