#fives slow burn

[ariadnes-red-thread]

The Last Word: Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE: Burn with Laughter

Prologue [Coming Soon] | Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Fives/OFC

Series Summary: War makes victims of everyone. This is something Mal knows too well. An enlisted civilian medic with the GAR, she's been able to rebuild with her chosen family, the Wolfpack, and she's found some semblance of peace in a shattered galaxy. But a request from the famous Captain Rex and a night out at 79's sends her world spiraling as she transfers from the 104th to the 501st and dives back into a search for answers that she had abandoned a long time ago. 

Mal’s new battalion is in the midst of a struggle of its own, having recently survived the horrors of Umbara. The cruelty of a broken Jedi has eroded the fabric of this close-knit group and left behind scars that are hard to heal. ARC Trooper Fives will do anything to protect his vode, and he's not sure if this new addition can be trusted.

Mal and Fives' struggle to save those they care about comes together in unexpected ways, and they find themselves thrust together in a battle for the future of a galaxy far, far away.

Chapter Summary: After a night out at 79′s, both Mal and Fives have to grapple with their decisions... and any feelings that remain.

Chapter Warnings: Alcohol use, Mentions of sex, Both characters made impaired decisions

Chapter Word Count: 5.4k

Recommended Listening: Dark Bird by Jake Wesley Rogers (St. Lucia Remix)

A/N: We’re finally here! I’ve spent the last few months obsessing over this series and this man, and I finally feel good enough about it to put my first chapter out into the world. Thank you so so so much to the incredible writer/friend/human @twistedstitcher27 for beta reading! You’re an angel, and your encouragement means the world :) I’ve tagged a few people who showed interest in the preview post but please join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters so I’m not tagging people who don’t want to be tagged! I’m hoping to update every couple of weeks.

Ao3

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The green canopy of Takodana’s forests hung low in the rain. The heavy cascade thrummed against the leaves, plummeting from great heights to splash off of Mal. The falling water landed on her arms, her legs, and even rolled down her forehead in large, fat drops that soaked her to the bone. But the steady stream barely registered in her mind.

She was here again. 

Mal was locked in her body, just as she had been on the day that it happened. She couldn’t move. She stared into two matching pairs of green eyes, begging them to run. Begging for it to be different this time. Still, the order came, as it always did.

“Fire!”

Mal tried to scream. Nothing came out. She tried to fight. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t change what had happened. Not even in her dreams. Mal raised the blaster and aimed.

The morning sun crept across the studio apartment, ready for vengeance. It reached out with gloating first rays to prod its unwitting victim. Mal was already tossing in an uneasy slumber when the intrusion woke her. She tugged the blanket over her head to escape the sudden onslaught of light, but a quiet groan left her parched throat as she realized there was no hiding. Even though sleep was just starting to leave her body, Mal’s temples were already throbbing, an unfriendly reminder that forgetting to close the curtains had been the least of her previous evening’s offenses. With an inner voice that grew louder and louder, she started to curse the woman she had been the night before. 

As she lazed in bed for a moment, the sheet still pulled over her head, visions of the previous night’s celebrations returned one by one. 79’s. The Wolfpack. Her goodbye party. The 104th had come together to send her off and did so with their usual brand of organized chaos. There were fuzzy memories of Sinker buying rounds and rounds of spotchka, Boost trying to drag her to the dancefloor every few songs, and she quietly choked as she remembered a foolish moment where she had challenged the Commander to an arm-wrestling contest. Mal wriggled her shoulder and was almost surprised to find everything intact. Wolffe must have gone easy on her.

A first, she snorted with a slight smirk. 

Not tearing her rotator cuff was the closest that Commander Wolffe would get to being sentimental about Mal’s transfer, but she would take it for the compliment it was. She kept stretching small muscles in her body as she pieced together the rest of the night’s puzzle, the edges frayed by sleep and drink. At least, she thought as she searched for an upside to her current condition; she didn’t have to report to her new posting until the afternoon. There was still plenty of time to sweat out this hangover and put a blurry night behind her. 

Then, one memory struck her, clear and sharp as a bolt of lightning. Mal shot up in bed, spinning to look over her shoulder. In those slowed nanoseconds before she turned, Mal realized she knew exactly what would be there but still prayed that she was wrong.

She wasn’t. A naked man lay beside her with the pale green sheets tossed carelessly over his bare, tan form. The soft morning light glowed golden around him. Memories came back in swelling, unstoppable waves now. They were more than pleasant, brimming with laughter, smiles, and moans. Yet, Mal’s heart began to race, and dread rose from her stomach up to her throat as she traced her way up his sleeping form. Sheer panic finally set in when her eyes fell on his face. He was a clone.

Fuck.

Mal scrambled out of bed, immediately tangling herself in the sheets and plunging to the floor, the durasteel chilly as it smacked against her bare skin. She was naked, she realized, but this new fact didn’t slow her flight. In a moment, she righted herself, fleeing to the fresher though a haze of alarm and sleep that hadn’t quite worn off.

Mal slammed her palm against the fresher door. The hydraulics moved at their usual speed, but every second was a lifetime. Finally, she could slip through the just barely big enough gap. Mal pinned herself to the wall as the door slid shut again behind her. She quickly locked the door after it sealed as if a sheet of durasteel could protect her from her bad decisions. She threw herself over the sink, flipping on the water before gripping the bowl’s edges.

After letting the water run for a moment, Mal cupped her hands under the sink, collecting a pool in her palms. She closed her eyes and splashed the water onto her face with a quick flick of her hands. As soon as the cool liquid met her skin, she sighed. 

Mal let the water run down her face and along her neck in gentle, forgiving paths for a moment before her eyes fluttered open and snapped to the mirror. She glared at the woman staring back at her, loose red hair flying in every direction and green eyes ringed by smeared make-up. She knew better than to sleep with a clone. Mechanics and techs were okay, and, Maker, there was a whole planet of men out there who weren’t in the GAR. No Jedi, no medics, and especially no clones. Those were the rules of engagement.

Amal Darroch, you grade-A idiot, she grumbled to herself as she scowled at her reflection. Kriff a senator next time.

Mal closed her eyes again, raising her hands to rub her pounding temples with her thumbs. The pressure began to soothe her headache. Next, she turned her attention to her breathing. 

In.

She let her mind follow the meandering crystal trail of water that still trickled along her chest.

Out.

Her breathing slowed. There was no reason to panic. She had made a mistake, but it would be okay.

Even as Mal tried to tell herself that, dread still roiled in the pit of her stomach. She knew all of the reasons that sleeping with a clone was a mistake. She was a civilian medic for the GAR, after all. She had served alongside the clones for almost two years now. They were her patients, her coworkers, and, more than anything else, her friends. The 104th was the closest she had to a family. Sleeping with one of their brothers was a line she never wanted to cross.

Then there was the position that the clones found themselves in, trapped in service to a Republic that often saw them as little more than cannon fodder. She knew what it was like to be seen as a pawn, and her privilege as a citizen was something she didn’t take lightly. And then, of course, tied into all of the other reasons, there was Tye. That was still too sore to touch, but it was there, floating lazily at the top of a deep well of memories long submerged.

In. Out.

It would be okay. It had to be. Mal tried to focus on something else. Anything else. 

What was his name again? She wondered, peering through at the memories to see if she could pick out any details. 

One by one, they came back to her as her headache slowly faded. She had been leaving the restroom when another clone, a shiny she figured from the quick glance she had gotten at his armor, had approached her with a little too much enthusiasm and far too much liquor in his system. 

“Hey there, gorge-” He started, his words slurring as drink sloshed out of his glass.

Mal cursed as the brown, sticky liquor met the green silk of her dress. Before she could look up, the trooper’s feet disappeared, and he darted into the crowd. Frowning at the crowd that had swallowed up the poor shiny, Mal called out an apology that missed the ears of the retreating clone. She had overreacted… again. But this was her one nice dress, and she had only pulled it out of her closet because she lost that bet with Sinker.

She sighed. Nice going. With the familiar feeling of guilt settling in her brow, Mal looked around to find a small napkin left on a nearby booth. She sat down as she attempted to wipe at the spreading stain, but the fabric quickly fell apart in her hands. She cursed again.

“Need one of these?”

A clone, his face unmistakable even though he was in civilian clothes, appeared before her. Did he have a face tattoo? Mal strained at the memory. He had brought a towel and a glass of fresh water, sliding into the booth across from her. He apologized for his brother and made her laugh as he shared his own worst pick-up line from his days as a shiny.

“You must be from Coruscant.” He flashed a wide sideways grin, his soft brown eyes twinkling in the neon light.

“What makes you say that?” Mal remembered asking as she smiled up at him. He was wrong, but she was curious about where this was going.

“Because I was searching for love in Alderaan places before you.” 

Mal’s jaw fell open before she began to cackle, her whole body shaking at his terrible pick-up line. The clone’s grin never faltered as he laughed, both at himself and at her reaction.

“That’s the worse line I’ve ever heard.” She finally pulled herself together enough to speak. “Has it ever worked?”

“Not yet, but I’ll keep trying.” The clone chuckled to himself again before he stood and held out a hand. “Now, what would you say to a dance? It’ll help your dress dry.”

“Now that’s actually the worst pick-up line I’ve ever heard.” Mal raised an eyebrow, considering the clone’s outstretched hand for a moment. 

“Did it work?” His grin crept out a little bit wider. 

As an answer, Mal reached out and claspered his rough palm with her own. She laughed again and then, as he had led her to the dance floor, found she never stopped laughing. As the night wore on, it was as though she’d been strapped to a speeder, along for a ride with this wild pilot. His boldness permeated everything he did. She’d never met someone more comfortable in their own skin. 

Transported away from her hangover and her bathroom and back to 79’s, Mal recalled how she had moved with him to the music and the jokes they had shared, lips pressed to ears on the thunderous dance floor. He had pulled a wildness out of her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Last night, the heaviness of the war and the tragedies that came with it were gone, and there was only this man.  Whether he was sweeping her off her feet on the dance floor or charmingly antagonizing the poor cabbie that brought them home, the world around them was a blur, and the only thing in focus was him.

Then there was the sex. The more Mal tugged at the memories of the night before, the more she remembered just how great the sex had been. Strong hands coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of her, those same hands on her hips as pleasure entered her from behind, her touch on his rippling core as she rode him, soft kisses, hungry kisses, and eventually, being pulled into strong arms as they both collapsed in perfect, exhausted bliss.

She still couldn’t remember his kriffing name, though.

Mal took another slow, measured breath as she dried her face with the hand towel. Name or no name, it was time to go out and face this man. It will be okay, she reminded herself again. She could come up with plenty of reasons not to give him her commlink, and there were millions of clones in the GAR. What were the chances she would ever run into this one man again? Mal frowned as she realized that the dread was gone, and instead, an odd ache formed in her chest at the thought.

She brushed the ache aside and all of the memories along with it. There were other problems to worry about. To begin with, she was still naked. Luckily, a sleeveless top, a binder, and compression shorts hung next to the shower from her run yesterday. She quickly pulled them on. With a sigh, she glanced in the mirror one more time. She made one last swipe under her eyes to wipe away the smudged makeup, and then she was ready to face him.

Mal stepped out of the fresher with a tight chest that bordered more on regret now than dread. Regret for what, she wasn’t willing to consider. But, as she glanced around the corners of her small apartment, she was alone. The man was gone. She breathed a sigh of relief, loud enough to distract her from the unexpected ache in her heart.

Then he stood up. The clone rose from the ground behind her bed. Mal jumped backward, letting out a cry at his sudden appearance. 

“Sorry, sorry!” He waved his hands in innocence, one of them clutching a boot that he held out towards her in explanation. “Just looking for this guy. Got away from me last night.”

“Oh, no problem!” Mal attempted her most casual tone, although she still clutched at her chest, and her heart was pounding furiously.

The clone was clothed now in vaguely familiar dark pants and a white shirt that hung close to his chest. Despite Mal’s best efforts, she found her eyes tracing over him, admiring the man. He was good-looking, born with the same handsome profile as his brothers. He must have been military or at least ground crew, she guessed, taking in his broad, rugged form. He kept his curly hair closely cropped, just a bit longer than regulation, but it was enough to give him bedhead this morning. A dark goatee cut along his sharp jaw, and a smile danced on his full lips with joy that was reflected in his deep brown eyes. Just above his dark brow, a small “5” was tattooed on his temple.

Five. Fives.

That’s right, Mal remembered. Fives. 

She locked eyes with him, and a flash of a memory of those honeyed pools staring up at her from between her legs made her toes curl.

“So, uh, wild night.” He let out a chuckle as he rubbed his empty hand along the back of his neck, ducking his head just a little as she guessed he had some similar flashbacks. “Can’t say I was in my best form, but I had fun. Hopefully, you did too.”

His look was earnest, and Mal smiled back at him against her better judgment. Fives was as disarming this morning as he had been last night.

“Definitely,” Mal nodded.

She winced as she realized what she had said. It was bad enough that she had broken her rule, but now she was flirting with him again. She wanted to be cold. Mal wanted to make this goodbye painless and quick. But something inside her pushed back. Something wanted to pull Fives back to bed, give him her comm, and beg him for an actual date.

You deserve to be happy.

A familiar voice whispered in the back of her head. The echo was enough to snap her back to reality. No clones. No relationships. One night and she was already losing focus. Seemingly oblivious to the thundering internal dialogue reverberating through her already-pounding head, Fives dropped behind the bed again. This time, he sank to one knee to pull on his last boot.

“I gotta get back to the barracks before my Captain has my ass.” He kept chatting as he tugged on the straps. “It’s always worse when he doesn’t go out with us. Jealous sheb.”

His voice was affectionate as he spoke of his Captain, and Mal relaxed a bit, thinking of her own squad. Fives rose again, fully dressed. With purpose, he stepped around the bed and towards Mal. Her breath caught in her throat at the movement. She froze, afraid of what her body might do if she let it. He stood over her, his wide figure towering above hers. He looked her up and down with a smile that brought a blush to her cheeks. Then Fives let out a quiet sigh.

“Thanks for everything.”

His voice was surprisingly gentle. He swooped down and pressed a soft kiss against Mal’s cheek, his goatee gently tickling the place where it grazed her jawline. Before she could even register the moment, he spun around and made his way to the door. With that unspoken goodbye, Fives was gone.

That was easy, she thought, but she didn’t move as she stared at the sealed door with a frown on her face and a chest still tense with regret.

Fives threw an arm around Tup as he pointed across the bar.

“Her. I want to go home with her.”

“Good luck,” Jesse laughed, his eyebrows wrinkling as he glanced at his vod’s target, or more accurately, the clone sitting next to the woman in question. “Looks like you’ll have to fight your way through Wolffe.”

Fives blew a raspberry in dismissal. Jesse let out another chuckle as Kix caught his eye. The medic tilted his head at Jesse, who nodded back to him. Oblivious to their plotting, Fives brought himself down to his elbows to lean on the bar and gawk across the way. While Fives was distracted, Jesse reached for the full drink in front of the boisterous clone, and with a carefully trained hand, he slid it down the bar to Kix.

“Hey, where’d my drink go?” Fives frowned as he looked around.

Kix shrugged, shooting a smug smile at Tup and Jesse over the top of a fresh glass of Corellian whiskey he was now sipping on.

“Ahh, kriff it. I need to piss.” Fives declared before he launched himself away from the bar.

“Should someone go with him?” Tup watched with vague concern as Fives meandered away from them and into the crowd.

“Sometimes you just have to release him into the night and hope he comes home in one piece.” Kix waved off Tup’s worry, still enjoying his new drink.

“Maybe he’ll find Coric. That di’kut went to the bathroom hours ago.” Jesse pointed out.

The night came back in bits and pieces to the slowly waking clone.

Fives had found his way to the fresher, the space from the bar and the mission to relieve himself, giving him some time to focus his whiskey-addled brain. He stood by the sink for a moment, letting himself sober up. Through the mirror, graffiti on the wall caught his eye, and he spun to get a better look at it. It was a quickly scribbled Teyrian mesa goat with large words next to it; Fives’ sister.

Kark you, Jesse. He frowned before he took a recording of the art and sent the holo to the obvious offender over his comm. 

We’re brothers, you shabuir.

Fives typed into the small machine. He tried to scratch at the drawing to see if it would peel off with just his fingernails, but it didn’t budge. Fives let out a small huff in defeat before he turned for the door.

When he finally stepped from the fresher, Fives was torn between returning to his vode or trying his luck on the dance floor. His brothers often accused him of being a charmer, and they weren’t entirely wrong. He liked flirting with the women and sometimes the men that came into 79’s. There was no risk of anything serious, relationship or otherwise. No talk of the war, no hushed whispers about Echo, and right now, no mention of that ori’dush Jedi. As much as he loved his vode, other company was a welcome break.

He was weighing his options when, like a vision, she appeared before him. It was her, the girl he had made his mark from the moment he had spotted her stunning form from across the bar. Wearing a silky emerald dress that clung to her gentle curves and stopped at her knees, and with long hair that fell over strong shoulders in loose red curls, she was unmistakable. She was alone now, weaving her way through the crowd without Wolffe at her side to fend off any suitors. Fives couldn’t believe his luck. This was his shot, and like a good ARC Trooper, he wasn’t going to miss.

Fives knew all the lines he would have used on her as a shiny. Hey baby, come here often? Hey gorgeous, let me buy you a drink. Those lines had done their job, more often than not. Still, he’d learned over the years that his greatest talent, aside from being a honed and rather creative droid-killing machine, was making people laugh, and that usually worked best. 

Before he could make his move, a young clone stepped into his line of site. The young man swayed as he walked, but Fives had to hand it to him; he kept his eyes on his target. Maybe too well.

Soon, the soldier’s drink was down the front of the girl’s dress, and Fives watched with a bemused smile as the poor shiny realized he was in way over his head and quickly tore back into the crowd. The woman looked up after the shiny, and Fives was impressed to see an unheard apology fall from her lips before she turned back to her ruined dress. With all thoughts of chasing after her aside, he went to the bar and came back with a glass of water and a rag to offer her the help that his younger, stupider vod didn’t.

By the time she invited him back to her apartment, Fives’ head was spinning, and it wasn’t from the alcohol anymore. It was entirely her fault. Amal. Mal. Her name was a song clearer than any he’d heard before. She was gorgeous and funny, keeping up with his ridiculous jokes and bold choice of fun at every turn. The cabbie was ready to kick both of them out by the time the speeder had reached her corner. The weequay didn’t find the fact that she and Fives had taken to narrating his driving like announcers at a podrace as amusing as they did. 

They both stumbled from the cab, doubled over, and wrecked with laughter. Fives swore he nearly broke a rub when, before the cabbie could take off, she ran to the front bumper of the air taxi, pulled the dark scarf from her shoulders, and waved it like a starting flag. The cabbie flew away, swearing. Unbothered, Mal blew the weequay a parting kiss.

“For good luck.” She grinned as she skipped back to Fives.

He quickly pulled Mal into him. A feeling of enchantment overcame him as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She smiled up at him, the city light dancing like stars in her glassy, green eyes. He spun her for a moment, sending them both in a circle just so he could pull one more gleeful laugh from her. Then he raised a hand to Mal’s face and leaned down to capture her lips with his.

Now, as he woke in the vaguely familiar bed, Fives groaned and stretched. He could hear her in the bathroom. The sound of the fresher door had pulled him from sleep, and the rush of the sink had prodded him to wake. Fives rolled himself over in bed and onto his stomach, stretching into the empty space beside him, still warm from her form. Her scent, a spicy-sweet vanilla, lingered on the sheets, and a longing sigh escaped him. Something about her presence in the fresher, the running water, and the soft morning light made his heart clench. He could almost imagine other mornings waking up here, other mornings where he could gather her back into his arms and convince her to go back to sleep, or mornings where he could try his hand at cooking and surprise her with breakfast.

Dangerous thoughts, Fives frowned into the soft dusty green fabric. He pushed himself up on his forearms. It was time to go. He started by gathering his clothes. They were strewn about the studio from the whirlwind of their entrance last night. As he pulled on his pants, he looked around the place Mal called home.

The first thing that caught his eye was the kitchen. Sitting kitty-corner to the bed, a tall wood bar separated the kitchen from her living space. It was the only table she had, and it looked a little dusty. Behind it, the kitchen was empty. A few spices and a couple of pans sat on the dark, open-faced shelves mounted on forest green walls. Otherwise, there was nothing.

A waste, Fives snorted. Nat-borns never appreciated the comforts. 

There were two doors along the same far wall as the kitchen. One was a blast door that Fives knew he had entered last night, and the other, he assumed from the sounds of running water, was the fresher. The bed was tucked in the corner of the room, next to a window with crooked curtains, as if someone had tried and failed to close them. On his side of the bed, there was still enough space between the window and the bedframe for a small table and lamp. There, he found that someone- her, if he remembered correctly - had deposited his shirt last night. Opposite the bed, a comfortable and worn brown chair was covered in blankets and a few books, turned down with their pages open as if someone was saving their spot. The rest of the room was lined with more dark shelves covered in more books and countless plants of all sizes and colors. He chuckled a little as he pulled his shirt on. She must like to take care of things. How sweet.

Dangerous thoughts, Fives felt the warning pop up again. Time to pack up. He straightened his shirt and reached for his boots, only to find one missing.

He didn’t hear her come out of the fresher. He was busy grinning victoriously at the erstwhile shoe he had pried out from under the bed. It wasn’t until he heard a sudden cry of surprise that he realized she was there. He snapped his head up to find Mal standing on the other side of the bed, her mouth open and a hand clutched to her chest.

“Sorry, sorry!” He quickly apologized, throwing the boot out in front of him in explanation.

“No problem!” She squeaked.

Fives couldn’t help but grin a little wider. She was trying to act natural, but her breathlessness from the scare still lingered. Then, a memory of her on her back, even more breathless as she writhed on his tongue, came back to him in a flash. Heat spread across his cheeks, and a hand shot up to the back of his neck, which he quickly rubbed as if he could erase the memory from his mind’s eye.

“So, wild night.” Fives chuckled at himself. He felt like a shiny again. “Can’t say I was in my best form, but I had fun. Hopefully, you did too.”

He watched as she relaxed and met his smile with one of her own. 

“Definitely.” 

His stomach flipped. Mal was as gorgeous as he remembered, standing there with her wavy red hair draped over her ivory shoulders. Toned arms peaked out from a sleeveless top, and black compression shorts hugged the curves of her hips. Fives had half a mind to pull her back to bed. He wanted to hold her heaving chest pressed to his and steal the oxygen from her lips. He wanted to kiss each freckle on her face. He wanted to soothe her worried brow.

Her worried brow.

Something was wrong. Fives kept chatting anyway. Echo had always joked that he was the only trooper who could talk more than Kenobi. He could sense her stiffness. It was the pauses between her words and the stillness of her limbs. She laughed, and she smiled, but something was wrong.

“I gotta get back to the barracks before my Captain has my ass. It’s always worse when he doesn’t go out with us. Jealous sheb.”

Fives finally let himself frown as he bent over to pull on his boot. He wondered if she knew what was coming. It wasn’t that he wanted to hurt Mal. They’d had a great time together, and maybe if things were different, this could end differently, but he never asked for comm links anymore. Some of his brothers had lovers that waited for them. They snuck off to dark corners of the Venators to call home and whisper sweet words of love while their other halves told them how much they were missed. Fives didn’t see the point. Jesse, all high and mighty in his relationship, tried to argue with him, saying Fives would understand when he fell in love, but he didn’t think that was likely. Having someone at home meant making promises you didn’t know if you could keep, like coming home at all.

When he stood, Fives was surprised to see that she had relaxed. Whatever was wrong must have been chased from her mind. He stepped around the bed and paused before Mal for a second, taking her in one last time. He breathed a little deeper. She still smelled like vanilla. She pulled him in like a magnet as Fives leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. His lips grazed her soft skin as his breath quickened. He could see her own lips fall softly open at his touch, and every impulse in him wanted to taste her one more time. 

He spun for the door before he could be reckless, breathing out a hurried thank you as he rushed to put space between her and him. Fives pushed aside any thoughts of other mornings, of how her legs had felt wrapped around his waist, or of her shining, spirited laugh. It was time to go. Jesse only could (and would) cover for him for so long.

He stepped out Mal’s front door into a narrow, dark stairwell that led from the entrance of her apartment to a back alley behind a bar below. The acrid smell of the dank crevasse between buildings hit him right away as he descended into the small corridor. He rounded the corner, pausing by the establishment to blink in the sudden sunlight. The divey joint looked just as seedy in the daylight as it had the night before. He frowned for a moment, thinking of Mal living above a place like that, before he shook himself of concern. He had said his goodbyes. A war was going on, and it was time to get back to work. He just had to find his way back to the barracks first.

Where the kriff was he? He wondered as he looked around. Come on ARC, use your head.

He glanced at the time mark on his comm and then looked up at the sun. He turned his attention to the city around him, searching for the level markings notched in the corner of each block of Coruscant. Finally, he examined the way the shadows fell from the buildings. A wave of relief washed over him. He was closer to the barracks than he expected. He might even make it back with time for a shower before the likely chewing-out from Rex.

Fives broke into a jog. He’d run every day since he was a cadet. It was easier on Kamino, with its long winding halls, but he still made time, even if it was just circling the barracks while on distant planets. It drove Echo crazy. His twin would throw pillows at him during tough campaigns, groaning at him to “Cut the shit.” Fives never did, though.

Despite still feeling a little groggy and the fact that he was wearing his one set of civics, it was a nice morning for a run. The sun was just hitting Coruscant’s midlevels, and the thought of a shower before roll call put an extra spring in his step. As his feet beat a steady rhythm against the ground, he focused on the mantra he always repeated as he ran.

Droidbait, Cutup, Hevy, 99, Echo, Hardcase.

The name at the end was new, and it still felt weird and heavy on his heart, but he repeated the names again and again. He wasn’t ever going to forget them. He wouldn’t ever let them be just a number.

tentative taglist: @twistedstitcher27, @baba-fett, @thefact0rygirl, @writingbylee, @wizardofrozz, @wild-karrde, @xopancakeox , @padmeromanoffs, @lunaastars, @shellshooked, @obi-wansorrow​, @misogirl828 and @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond​

[steve-faglan]

Cat // Mouse

Reader x Steve Raglan (William Afton)

TW: NON CON!! DUB CON!! DRUGGING!! HE'S MEAN!!!!!!!!!

SUMMARY: You get a job working for an old man you want to fuck. Are you misreading things? Where did that vibrator come from?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Is this considered a slow burn? It felt slow to write. It's supposed to be like will they? Won't they? But it's... Well yeah. Look at this gif??????? My PUSSSY????????

WORD COUNT: so many.

Daddy issues. At least, that's what they call it. That's what your ex screamed at you about before he left you in a state thousands of miles from the one you were raised in. He said it was because you made him feel immature; less than. But maybe he was. All he ever wanted to do was drink and play video games, you craved more.

After he left, you realized you'd have to get a better paying job to cover the portion of rent your ex was paying. You take a day to really let it settle in. You cry and drink an entire bottle of wine while watching Dirty Dancing, and then you schedule a meeting with a local career counselor.

You sigh as you hang up the phone. It's embarrassing to need a temp agency's help finding employment, but you're new to this area. You don't know anyone and you're barely sure where to start.

Your alarm blares throughout your room, startling you awake. You barely remember falling asleep at all, and somehow, it feels like you couldn't have possibly slept enough. You're sluggish and groggy, but you still find the energy to get ready for your interview. You're hoping a little extra effort will get you further in a small town like this, so you spend a little more time on your makeup before heading out of the house.

The drive across town to the agency is quick and easy. You pull into the parking lot and emerge from your car, shielding your eyes from the sun to read the rickety sign that's hanging on for dear life outside the building. You huff, unsure if this was the best place to go looking for higher-paying work. When you step inside the door, a petite old lady greets you with a smile. She points to an office down the hall and tells you to knock.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

You push the unlatched door open slightly and a warm voice invites you in.

"Come in, have a seat." The man instructs. You scan over his office. It's dated, and decorated with styles reminiscent of corporate America in the 80's. You read the name tag on his desk, Steve Raglan. You take a seat in one of the muted yellow chairs opposite Steve and await his introduction.

"Steve," he extends an arm over the desk and you shake his hand, telling him your name.

"Thanks for having me, Mr. Raglan. I'm new to town, well, new to the entire coast, really."

"Wow, a little far from home, aren't we?" Steve chuckles kindly, smiling with a tightly closed mouth, spreading his mustache across his lip.

"You have no idea," you laugh exhaustedly and Steve tilts his head as if he's pondering something, but he doesn't mention it. "Anyways, here's my resume. It's not much, but uh..." You hand him a folder with your work history document professionally stored inside. Steve happily takes the folder and begins to read through your papers.

Your resume is impressive. You're well educated with a strong work streak. Your work ethic stands out to him. He's reading through your accomplishments aloud, commending each one. You're unsure why, but his praise fills you with a very specific need. You crave more and something in you tells you that you'd do almost anything to get it.

"A course in robotic engineering?" Steve's voice sounds surprised. He looks up at you with raised eyebrows. A grin spreads across his bearded face. "Huh."

"Yeah, I actually took a few courses. I never did anything with it though."

"Do you remember a lot from those classes?" He sets the closed folder to the side and casually places other papers on top of it, distracting you enough to keep you from asking for it back.

"Oh, sure. Mostly coding, I guess." You shrug.

"Coding." He repeats to himself, nodding knowingly. He can think of a million places in this town that could use a smart, pretty little thing like you. A strained silence grows for just a moment before he speaks again. "Well, Y/N. I think I have an offer for you, but it's not much of a pay raise like you'd hoped."

"What is it?" You ask, hoping for at least a dollar difference.

"Did you see Mrs. Penneman out there?" Steve points in the direction of the kind old woman who greeted you.

"Mrs. Penneman?"

"She's at the front desk. She's retiring in exactly one week. That position will be open." He goes on to talk about the ways you could incorporate what you learned in your engineering classes as they switch from mostly paper to computers after Y2K.

"What's the pay like?" You ask, already knowing you plan to agree the second he stops talking.

"Not great, but!" He pauses for a moment. "Plenty of opportunities for overtime." Steve's not an idiot. He saw how looked when he was praising you. The way the red in your cheeks was flaming hot at the mere mention of you doing a good job. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves it.

"Overtime?"

"Of course. Switching the entire employee records from paper to digital isn't an easy feat. It's going to take a lot of time you may not have during the work day. Does this suit you or should I keep looking?"

"Oh, uh," you hesitate. Steve stifles a grin as he watches your inner battle decide between being around him or possibly making more money. "Yes, that's perfect. Thank you, sir."

"Excellent. You start Monday." Steve ends the conversation abruptly. A jarring switch from friendly and conversational to busy and indifferent. It triggered something in you. A desperate need to get that warmth back.

"Right, okay. I'll... See you Monday." You leave the office, yearning. And Steve is well aware. He sits alone in his office, staring forward as he makes plans for you. He folds his hands together and rests his chin on them as he imagines the way he'll pick you apart like a toy. You're already so desperate for his approval, you've done the hard part for him.

Monday rolls around and you, of course, wake up a little early to get ready. Of course, you don't want to come off as desperate, so you're very tactful in the way you dress and present today, your first day. You've all but forgotten your ex was ever here, let alone the fact that you moved all the way to Hurricane, Utah for him.

Nervous, but good at hiding it, you walk into the building with a beaming false confidence. You're trying to remind yourself that while Steve is attractive and older and something mysterious about him draws you in, you're still here to work and you really can't let rent slip because homelessness is not an option when you're this far from your home state.

You brace yourself for what you assume will be an extremely long day, and you hope it is. Not only for the money but the view as well. When you walk up to the desk, Mrs. Penneman is nowhere to be found. All her belongings are missing from the desk, leaving a generic canvas of an office. You glance down the hall to Steve's open office door.

"Mr. Raglan?" You knock lightly on the door, stepping inside slowly so as not to intrude. He's not there. The entire building seems eerily empty. Just as you turn to leave his office, you run flat into a broad, solid figure. Steve. You stumble before finally falling backward. You sit on the floor for a moment, red-faced, but keeping your composure to the best of your ability.

"Someone's punctual." Steve extends a hand to you, helping you up to your feet.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Raglan. I couldn't find-"

"Mrs. Penneman decided an early retirement was in store. I'll be training you, if that's alright." Steve smirks, knowing he relieved his previous secretary of her duties early specifically to have this time working so closely with you. He dressed it up as a gift to her.

"Oh, okay. Of course. Where should I start?" You smile, awaiting instruction. You cling to every word he says, the guidance, the leadership. The way his dimples deepen when he smiles in the slightest. You become dependent on making him smile simply for this reason.

Steve sets you up for data entry and asks that you let him come check your work every so often to make sure things "meet his standards." You've never been more determined to do something perfectly in your life. With unbreakable focus, you start the first few tasks. You're mindful, double-checking, efficient, and fast.

"Mr, Raglan?" You appear like an angel in his doorway. He looks up from his papers and waits for you to continue. "I finished the first portion. Could you come check it for me?"

Steve smiles warmly as he stands to follow you to your desk. The warmth of his gaze melts you from your head to your pussy.

"This looks great, Y/N. Good job." He adds the last bit just to see the way your eyes shift and sparkle when he compliments you. He leaves you to do the rest of your work in peace, but he lingers a little longer in the hallway, watching you for a moment, carefully hidden from your view.

You pick up on the data entry rather quickly and finish the very last employee record by the end of your first week. When Steve comes to finalize the task, he grabs a chair and slides it next to yours so you can both look at the screen together. You're poised and collected by now, the initial lust seeming to die down after a week of seeing him every day. Though his words of approval still cause a knot to form in your stomach.

Steve picks up on your dwindling excitement and decides this is war. As the two of you sit next to each other, he carelessly allows his legs to take up more and more space. Normally a man's obliviousness in a situation like this would boil your blood, but when his thigh grazes yours so softly, you freeze. His touch lingers and he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. His face is dangerously close to yours. He leans in even closer, boldly placing his lips mere inches from your ear.

"You're a very impressive young woman. You know that?" His warm breath brushes against your ear, inviting a million little goosebumps across your skin. It takes everything in him not to chuckle at your visceral reaction. You're frozen, staring straight ahead, basking in the closeness to this man you desire so badly. A few moments pass and a light chuckle leaves his lips. Still ever so close, he speaks again. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"S-sorry! Thank you, Mr. Raglan. Sorry," you nervously laugh, wishing so badly you could go back in time and rip the sticker off your forehead that says "Fuck me, Mr. Raglan."

"Don't mention it." He suddenly withdraws from your personal space, leaving you clinging to the dwindling body heat he's left behind. His tall figure towers over you, especially so when you're sat. He's gone just as quickly as he arrived and you can't help but feel perplexed. Was he not just coming on to you? Did you project all of that onto a perfectly normal interaction? He warps your reality without even touching you.

"What the fuck?" You question aloud to yourself. Your heart is racing. Your mind is constantly replaying the moment. His voice, his words, all of it.

The next day, it starts as any other. You're replaying the day before over and over again, just as you did when you shamelessly touched yourself last night. The sound of his voice so close to your ear, the way his leg brushed against yours. Just thinking about it feels like butterflies in your stomach.

"Good morning, Y/N." Steve walks right past you. You try to return the greeting, but you're cut off by the sound of his office door closing. He's frustrated, but you're not sure why. Disappointed, but not really the probing type, you decide to just get to work. Today was supposed to be the day he trained you for a "side project" utilizing your coding skills, but you're hesitant to ask about it while he's so visibly upset.

The day continues as usual, though it does seem to drag on a little longer for you when you don't get to stare at Steve. You're straightening up the waiting area, bent at the waist to fan out the magazines. When you stand, there's suddenly a tall figure behind you. Steve is pressing the entire front of his body directly against you. You involuntarily release a small gasp when you feel what you're sure is his half-hard cock pressed against your ass. Steve takes only a second to inhale your scent and feel himself pressed against you before he whispers in your ear once again.

"You're my secretary, not my maid." He steps away and you frown, still facing away from him.

"I'm sorry, sir. I've run out of things to do." You shrug and you turn.

"Out of things to do? Already?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, sir." Your formality is adorable to him. And something about you calling him "sir" makes him hard just hearing it.

"Well," Steve steps closer to you now that you're facing him. He's so tall, towering over you, craning his neck to keep his eyes locked on yours. "You're such a good girl," there it is. His words make you shudder. There's no way he's fucking with you right now, right? Wrong. He once again creates a gap between the two of you.

"Good kid with a good head on your shoulders. Try not to overthink it." He smirks at your beet-red face and swiftly disappears to his office. You're becoming frustrated. It's as if by the time he walks away, you're so enthralled that you can't remember whether or not your degenerate, horny brain over-dramatized the memory. Angry and even a little embarrassed, you make your way back to your desk.

Steve sits in his office carefully listening to the sounds of your frustration. He loves the way you'd fall to your knees for him right now if he asked, but he likes fucking with you more. He hears you sigh away the sexual tension and he grins. Having this much power over someone like you. You're so smart and beautiful, what are you doing melting in his hands like that? His strong hand finds the growing bulge in his slacks, hoping to relieve any of the pressure he's been building up for the both of you.

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his teeth still palming himself, picturing you bound and gagged in front of him. Maybe that's why he's so insistent on teasing you instead of fucking you on his desk like he knows you dream about. Maybe he wants the chase, the restraint. You're too easy, he wants you to be scared.

At the end of the day, you decide to say "fuck it" and see what he'll do if you match his energy. He's grabbing his things to leave when you slip into his office and close the door behind you. You're shaking-nervous, your heart is pumping at an inhuman rate. You have no idea what your plan is until it happens.

"Mr. Raglan, can I ask you a question?" You make your way across the room, passing the boundary of the front of his desk, standing with him behind it. Steve tilts his head in a bemused expression.

"Y/N, feeling a little comfortable, are we?" His sarcastic question leaves you a little more unsure of yourself, and you take a step back. "Ask away." Steve smiles innocently.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but..." You're shocked at how steady your voice is as you fall into this sultry character you've created for yourself. It's never failed you before. "I feel like there's something you're trying to tell me. It's not very subtle." You lean against the desk casually. "Am I wrong?"

"Oh, wow," Steve can't help but grin, but he quickly replaces it with a smug, sarcastic expression. "You must be the queen of subtly, right?" His snarky words catch you off guard. "No, dear. Sorry about any miscommunications on my part. See you tomorrow, Y/N."

Steve steps around you and walks out the door without another word. You're stunned silent and extremely embarrassed. You consider leaving a resignation letter on your desk and never coming back. Furious, you slam the door to your car and drive home. By the time you get to your driveway, you've calmed down and accepted that everything you thought he was doing was just your imagination.

You're still angry, unable to fully accept that you'd be that delusional, but who really knows? From then on, you put away your fantasies and focus on work and getting money set aside for rent. The next few days continue like normal, with no more "misunderstandings" or advances. Until... Steve reaches for a binder off a shelf behind your desk. As he slides in behind you where you stand, right behind your pushed-in computer chair, and reaches his long arm up to the shelf, his other arm searches for a surface to brace on. That surface is your pencil skirt-clad waist.

You gasp quietly, but you don't allow yourself to react any further. Steve has the binder in his hand, but he doesn't remove the other from your waist. He lingers, staring at the back of your head trying to read whatever emotion must be displayed on the other side. You're rigid, like you usually are when he pushes these boundaries, but he also senses your frustration and boredom. He can't help but chuckle as he steps away.

"Thank you, Y/N," he says, waving the binder as he walks away to his office. Did he even need the binder? No, probably not. You huff at your seat, officially deeming him untouchable. You decide he must just be a weird old man that doesn't understand personal space and you can accept that now that he's no longer the object of your desire.

This is what he wanted. Your indifference. It's all part of his plan. As the days continue and your attraction settles to dust, he waits for you to make a mistake, any mistake. To his surprise and perhaps even dismay, you're nearly perfect. Then finally, you accidentally double-book a client meeting that leaves someone jobless with no way to reschedule. You're horrified and apologizing left and right to the man who is more than understanding, making you feel worse.

The man finally leaves, with no job, and no meeting. You sit at your desk and mentally scold yourself for being so careless. The stress of the approaching deadline of your rent seems to be taking a larger toll on you than you realized. Steve's client meeting ends and he sends the temp on his way with high hopes. You wish him a good day and try to focus on your computer.

"Y/N, can I see you in my office?" Steve appears from nowhere in front of your desk. He moves so silently when he means to, it's unsettling. You shamefully look up from your work and nod, following him to his office. You both sit in the appropriate seats and he releases a sigh.

"I'm disappointed in you, Y/N." His opening statement crushes you. "That was a huge fuck up, was it not?" His voice is stern and the use of cursing lets you know this is not a formal scolding. You're in trouble.

"I-I know, but it's the first one I've ever made since I started, sir."

"So that means I should just forget about it, right?" He leans back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him. "A man can't feed his family because he doesn't know when he'll have a ride back here."

"I know, sir. I'm... I'm sorry." You sigh, eaten alive with guilt. "He was very kind."

"Did you deserve it?" He's angry.

"No." You look away from him.

"What was that?" He tilts his head, eyebrows still arched. You glance at him, confused for a moment.

"No... Sir." You add.

"I think you're getting too comfortable here, Y/N. 'It's not very subtle.'" he quotes you and your face ignites with blush.

"O-Of course, sir. I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry."

"Well, don't be embarrassed. Do better." You nod and begin to stand to leave when he leans forward with a softer expression. "Coffee?"

"What?" You don't even mean to ask him to repeat himself, it was just such a jarring switch in tone.

"Coffee. I just made it." Steve stands and crosses the room to a little black coffee maker in his office that you'd never noticed before.

"Uh, sure." You accept, hoping the caffeine will give you some sort of drive to improve your current work performance. Steve pours you both a cup and passes one to you. They're the same cup, but his looks comically small in his large, nimble hands. You take a few sips of the hot, dark liquid and begin to feel light-headed.

Everything around you seems to melt away. You've completely disregarded where you are or why you might feel this way. You try to stand and you drop the still-full cup on the office floor. Steve watches it all leaning against the table across the room. He nonchalantly sips his coffee as he waits for you to collapse. Just as he planned, the minute you get to your feet, your knees buckle beneath you. You're out before you hit the floor.

"Look at this. Look how little you think of yourself the second you hear how disappointed I am." Steve chuckles as he lifts your unconscious body. You're bound and gagged in the back seat of his '79 Ford Fairmont as he makes his way to an undisclosed location. Yeah, that one.

You wake up with a deep, sharp gasp as if you'd been holding your breath the entire time. Your head is spinning and your vision is blurry as you try to scan your surroundings. It's a dank grey room littered with failed attempts at his "side project" he'd mentioned to you weeks ago. Crumpled endo-skeletons and half-built robot heads cover each corner while wires and bolts cover the rest. Your heart begins to race and you try to rise from the cold, metal table you reside on, only to find that your wrists and ankles are strapped in place with thick leather binds.

"What the fuck?" You mumble to yourself as you continue to try to wake up. "Hello?! Help! Help me, please!" You scream and thrash on the slab.

"They all say that, you know? They always scream for help as if anyone's coming." Steve slowly enters the door. His tie is loose along with a few buttons, and his sleeves are haphazardly shoved halfway up his arms. His normally carefully combed hair is disheveled and damp with sweat as if he'd been hard at work before entering this room.

"'They?'" You tremble, rattling the metal.

"Of course, you're the first for this type of venture, I guess. Normally I just skip to killing," he chuckles, removing his tie. You're in a state of shock, sheer disbelief. Hearing that last word sends you into hysterics.

"Please don't kill me, sir. I- I won't fuck up again, I promise. Please-"

"Shut. Up." Steve's stern voice cuts directly through your pleas. "I haven't decided yet."

Tears flow steadily down the sides of your face as he begins to grope you. His rough hands explore every inch of you. His calculated hands knowingly leave bruises on your tender skin.

"Please..." You whisper with your eyes tightly shut, afraid of every movement he makes.

"Sweetheart, if this part scares you, I'm not sure you're gonna survive what comes next." He's only inches from your ear as he whispers. Your body shudders with terrified sobs. The cries only get louder when you feel Steve cutting off your clothes. You're too afraid to fight him off, unsure of whether any injuries you may acquire would be accidental or not.

"Why are you doing this? I-I literally came on to you!" You try to find reason in his actions, mostly to distract yourself from the fact that you're completely exposed, the remnants of your clothes a tattered mess beneath you.

"Where's the fun..." he drags the tip of his knife softly from your ankle to your navel as he steps closer to your blushing face. "In that?" He continues, positioning the weapon to stab through your abdomen, should he press down with any effort at all. Goosebumps erupt over your skin. "Now, are you going to shut your fucking mouth or do I need to shut it for you?" He places a gentle hand on your cheek. You nod frantically, looking into his eyes. They look so calm.

You hate to admit it, but the way he touches you seems to attempt to dig up that insatiable attraction you felt for him not long ago. Your fantasies never ventured to this genre, but you used to dream of him making you orgasm. You're torn from that memory when you remember his admittance to murder and how you know that means you probably won't make it out of this room.

Steve places the knife to the side and slowly slips his middle finger inside you. You gasp, and he plunges away, growing rougher with each stride. He curls his knuckles and watches your face closely as your crying eyes roll back into your skull. You yank against your restraints, trying to squirm away from him, but he's ruthless.

"You're so... Peculiar, Y/N." He removes his fingers from you and cleans them of your undeniable arousal with a pocket handkerchief. "I almost caved when you confronted me in my office. So bold. It's been a riot just picking at you." Steve reaches a hand into a desk in this mysterious room and retrieves an unknown device. You gasp as he slips the small, cold object inside you.

"What are you-" your question is swiftly silenced by the small remote in Steve's hand activating a powerful vibration from the item in your pussy. His free hand rubs rhythmically up and down your clit, stimulating you further. Steve stares down at you as you melt away into pleasure, ashamed and silently begging for more. He's laughing at you, hovering his head over yours as you anxiously avoid eye contact.

"Look at me," he demands, but you can't. You shut your eyes. He releases a breathy chuckle and raises the intensity of the vibrating gadget. "Don't start enjoying yourself or I might have to really scare you." You don't want to know what that entails, so you force yourself to look into his soulless blue eyes. The eye contact deepens the red shade that washes over your cheeks and Steve shakes his head, laughing at you again.

"Why are you so embarrassed now? Would you still be this shy if I'd bent you over my desk like you wanted? You're so much tighter when you're scared." Steve abruptly removes the vibrating toy from between your legs. You whimper pathetically in the absence of stimulation. He leaves the room and returns with yet another machine. This one's larger, a box.

He places the box down between your legs, as close to your throbbing entrance as he can get it. The side of the box facing you is adorned with a hole housing a phallic shape made of soft, silicone material. Your heart is bound to give out at this pace. The box itself covers a mass of gears and wires, a motor to power the rod in and out of its destination. You.

"We'll start it out slowly for you, how's that?" Steve presses a button and the machine pushes into you, slipping in easily as your body clearly craves it. You whine and cry out in pain as the machine stretches you out, slowly boring in and out of you. "If this thing's too big for you, what makes you think you could've taken me?" He laughs as he leans against the desk and watches the mechanism fuck you out. Every so often, he increases the speed.

Finally, it's maxed out. You're squirming and wailing in overstimulated pleasure and pain.

"Please! Please, I can't take it- I can't-" your begs are ignored. Steve places a rough hand around your neck, carelessly cutting off your oxygen and blood flow while his other hand delicately flicks your clit. That's it, that sends you over the limit. You climax harder than you ever thought possible, drenching the machine that's still fucking into you as your body quivers. Steve allows you to breathe again and takes his sweet time powering down the penetration machine.

You're shaking. Your tear-stained face is frozen in a look of exhaustion. The last thing you're able to do is move or speak. Your breathing is a plethora of hitched coughs and gasps and you flinch at even the possibility of being touched again at all.

"I think you might be ready now." He unfastens your bindings and takes a step back to observe. You don't move at all, not a single muscle. The truth is, you can't, even if you wanted to. Steve smirks, pressing a foot-lever under the table that lowers you right down to his waist. Two powerful hands hook under your legs and pull you so your beaten hole is perfectly accessible to him. You cry out as he moves you.

"I-I can't, Steve. I-" Your nearly inaudible mumbles are knocked from your mouth as he lands a hard open palm slap across your face.

"You're going to." He makes quick work of his belt and quickly aligns himself with your entrance. At one point all you wanted from him was this, but now you'd rather be anywhere else. Your cheek is ablaze, covered with a spreading stinging sensation. You're too distracted by the pain to notice Steve rearing back. He slams into you at full force, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

"Nooo!" You whine, unsure of how much more your body can truly take.

"Fuck!" He's almost primal when he's inside you, digging his fingertips into your flesh like he intends to take it off your body. "After all of that, you're still so fucking tight."

He reaches to your breasts and roughly gropes at the delicate skin. Your weak hand tries to tug at his wrist, but he simply flicks you away like a pest, continuing the assault. He slams into you, hoping to do more harm than anything, smiling at your sobbing face. Your makeup is a smeared mess and your hair is in disarray from the way you fought back on the table. You look pathetic to him and he loves it.

"You want to be filled up, don't you sweetheart?" He huffs, slowly approaching his climax. Your eyes open wide and a new wave of fear and adrenaline shoots through you, but you're still too weak to manage. Steve easily pins your wrists by your shoulders and thrusts deeper and deeper, hooking his hips to temporarily reach the very limit of your cunt.

"Please don't! Mr. Raglan, please!" You beg between gasping sobs as you listen to his labored breaths become unsteady. His agonizing thrusts lose their rhythm and suddenly you can feel his thick erection twitching inside you, brushing your G spot and carrying you over the edge again as well. You didn't even think that would be possible at this point.

You and Steve ride out your highs. He continues to pump into you making a heinous sound as he fucks his cum deeper inside you. To his surprise, he remains hard, so he continues to rut into your destroyed pussy until his legs threaten to give out. Steve finishes inside you a second time, laughing as he watches your horrified face realize how full of him you are. He's taking his time pulling out of you, playing with your cum soaked clit until you finally pass out from exhaustion.

Steve releases a breathy laugh as he fastens his belt and collapses in a chair nearby. You're lying there, naked and dripping cum from your swollen, demolished pussy. He can't get enough of this view. His original plan was to just get rid of you when he was done here, why not? But this is too much fun for him. Maybe he needs a new pet.

[youngeditor1999]

[paper-lilypie]

behold!! The muses!!!

from @starrspice’s absolutely BRILLIANT au, have the music gods themselves and my own take on their pretty pretty colors

This Y/N is a complete gem and 100% should be allowed to curse out the gods without consequence. Who knows what lies ahead for this poor sucker (spoiler alert: it’s love teehee)

[dilxcc]

chapter five

summary. in which two friends who desperately clings to each other until the other slips away . . .

contains. fem!reader, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, slowburn, cussing, grammatical errors . . .

note. i swear this chapter would be more enjoyable if you read it while listening to kai's come in. ALSO FOR EVERYONE'S INFORMATION!! i actually was listening to kai's say you love me (i thought it fits the yandere theme much more but angst works too hehe) when i come up with this ff 🤭 im not even going to lie when i say most of his songs inspired me to write

previous chapter

his face was adorned with a sweet smile. one hand caressing your hair while the other were wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him. you were too caught up in what was happening until he was suddenly further away from you. your voice were stuck in your throat, desperately trying to call out for him.

that gentle smile were replaced with resentment. you didn't get what was happening. your heart ache as he continue to get further away. you begged for your legs to start moving ― to start chasing after him. but it wouldn't move.

.

you woke up with a start, slightly out of breath as you take in your surrounding. your head was immediately turned towards the door when it swung open, revealing the very source of your nightmare. "satoru..." you muttered. despite your best effort to look like nothing had happened, he had already caught on to it.

"you good?" he asked, sitting down on the side of the bed. "yeah," you answered almost immediately. he knew that was not the case. hell, he's been friends with you since your teenage years. of course, he would know if something was wrong. but he didn't push the topic any further. "are the kids okay?" you asked softly. he put the plastic bag that he brought with him on the bedside table. "they are. thanks to you," he smiled slightly.

you let out a sigh of relief before laying back down on the bed. "i brought your favorites," he said, his eyes were wandering around the hospital room. "eat it while it's still hot," he added.

for the next few minutes, he accompanied you as you ate your lunch ― that was what he told you. as if noticing your constant need to clear your throat, he suddenly got up from his seat and started walking towards the door. "where are you going?" you immediately asked. "missing me already?" he asked with a teasing smile, making you to crack a smile of your own. "i'm getting you water," he said softly, his hand on the doorknob. "i'll be back in a few,"

after he left, you were left alone with your thoughts. your mind wander back to the dream you just had. was it really a dream..? or was it some sort of prediction that might happen in the future? you shook your head slightly, denying all possibilities. there was no way that would happen... right?

.

the two students clung onto you, tears staining their faces as they shout words of gratefulness. "you scared us back there!" itadori started. "we thought that you died!"

gojo only watched the scene unfolding before him with amusement. the fushiguro boy had a concerned look on his face but he was trying his hard to not show it.

after a few minutes of consoling your students, they finally calmed down and returned to their usual routine. you were left alone with the gojo satoru yet again. "don't you have a business trip? you usually have one," you muttered.

"told those old men that i'm busy," the white haired male shrugged. "then why are you still here?" you tilted your head in disbelief. he let out a chuckle and shrugged. "let's hang out," he smiled brightly, dodging your question expertly. he do know why he was here ― why he was reluctant to leave your side. he was scared that you might get hurt again; that you might... leave him.

you sighed and shook your head. "i can't, satoru. i still have classes," you rejected. "oh, you mean the one you had after this? loosen up. you still got two more days before you actually need to start teaching again," he said. "plus, those kids won't have a single mission any time soon," he smiled.

"no, means no, satoru," you sighed. "yes, you mean?" he insisted. without asking for your permission, he grabbed your hand and warped the two of you in front of a sweets shop. "satoru!" you groaned.

without letting go of your hand, he starts walking inside the shop, looking through at the various flavors they have. "choose your favorite," he said softly before letting go of your hand and wander around the store in search for his favorite flavors.

you sighed in defeat before you decided to give in and take a look around the store. it had different flavors, some you have heard of and some that you have never heard of. your eyes stopped at the familiar candy that you used to eat back in the days. yours and satoru's favorite.

you wondered if it was still his favorite.

.

sitting at the park bench, you unwrapped the toffee plastic and popped it inside your mouth. "oh," satoru was frozen in his spot, his eyes glued on the confectionery. he remembered the times during your teenage days when both you and satoru would eat these candies under a tree, laughing at each other's joke.

"still your favorite?" he asked softly, his eyes soften behind his black glasses. you hummed and closed your eyes. "i haven't ate this since..." he trailed off. obviously he meant since the time that your relationship drifted away. "yeah, me too," you smiled bitterly.

he scoot himself closer to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. there was no words needed to be exchanged. just simply being in silence with him, the chirping of the birds and his raging heartbeats were enough.

taglist: @wooasecret @charisthemaniac @tw0fvced @1lellykins @dnnalssndra

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[rex-meshla]

Hello there,

You might not know me yet, but if you're here, you probably love the Clones just as much as I do. I'm excited (and a little nervous!) to finally share my writing with all of you.

Shadows of the Force follows a slow-burn romance between a Jedi OC and a certain Captain that we all love and admire. The story builds with every quiet exchange, every heartbeat of tension. It may be slow, but trust me, it's worth sticking around.

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapters 4-6

Here's a little glimpse of the story:

Amidst the turmoil of the Clone Wars, Stella Cardone, an unexpected survivor from Earth, finds herself thrust into a galaxy far from anything she's ever known. Rescued by Anakin Skywalker and his loyal squad, she must navigate the brutal realities of war while uncovering her own hidden potential. But as bonds deepen on the battlefield, so does a forbidden connection with one of her closest allies-a brave soldier with secrets of his own. Together, they’ll face enemies seen and unseen, testing loyalties, courage, and the fragile line between duty and desire. In a galaxy shadowed by darkness, will love become her greatest strength… or her downfall?

*Disclaimer: this universe isn't strictly canon—because, honestly, f*ck Order 66 and Fives' death

I'll be updating twice a week on Wattpad, or more often when I can.

I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to comment or message me anytime x

[tenwhiteandalusians]

so no one was going to tell me if i got literally one episode further tenax drops that he’s the one who saved scorpus from his mom’s pimp AND that he’s intimately familiar with scorpus’ dick when he was younger. guys. guys.

[bunny7567]

I got you - chapter 1

So this is the first fanfic I've ever written. I've been obsessed with star wars for years and with clone wars for months now, especially with Rex and I've had this story in my head constantly for almost a year. I have never written so many words so fast in my life. Made a tumblr account just to read Rex fanfics lol, so hope I get everything right when posting. I already have a couple more chapters written and many other ideas so this will be a long story. I try to follow canon but it does deviate from it a bit, and I'm also mixing some legends and a lot of headcanons in too. The story will deal with mature themes, I'm not yet sure how sexually explicit it'll get, again, never written fanfic before so not sure if I'm capable of writing smut lol but there's a big possibility. Also not gonna be very action-heavy, I'm more focused on relationships with other characters. Echo and Fives will appear a lot too cause I love them.

A/n: adding an edit to mention that I have in fact managed to write some smut in later chapters, so I guess that makes this story 18+. The chapters that have smut will be properly marked as such.

Pairing: Rex x Jedi!ofc

Word count: 3.8k Warnings: heavy drinking; talk of injury; implied ptsd; implied emotional abuse

Next chapter

mesh'la - beautiful di'kut - idiot

~~~

Lexie looked at her face in the mirror, pleading with her mind to allow her to remember what happened, but she’s met with the same confusing, unclear images she’s been trying to piece together for the past few weeks, images of barren landscapes, white armour, red eyes and the look of disgust in them, and was she in someone’s arms?

She read the report, she knows the facts what happened on Geonosis, but for the life of her, she cannot remember herself being there. She cannot remember her master abandoning her, why would he just leave? She cannot remember how she supposedly took charge of the squad of clone troopers that Master al’Prani was supposed to lead, tearing through battled droids trying to reach Anakin and Obi-Wan. And she cannot remember how she got injured. Her hand reaches to the back of her skull, fingers tracing the long scar that still feels tender. It shouldn’t do, not anymore, not after the months she spent in a coma, but she could swear it still hurt.

It didn’t feel real at first, waking up in a medical facility on Coruscant with only med droids around her to relay the news of her injury and the coma she had been in since. She had woken in such a panic that she didn’t even realise how she used the Force to throw one of said droids against a wall, shattering it to pieces. It didn’t get any better when Mace Windu and Obi-Wan finally came to talk to her, telling her about the war that the Separatists had started and the clone army that the Jedi were now leading. It didn’t feel right at all, Jedi as generals, how is that being keepers of the peace? But the most horrible blow came when Obi-Wan slowly sat down on the chair next to her bed and took her hand in his, a sombre expression on his face.

“Alexis, there is something else you should know”, she could feel that the news he was about to relay had something to do with her master, however Lexie could not believe the words that followed. “Master Safir’al’Prani has left the Jedi Order during the battle of Geonosis.”

“No that’s… that’s not possible” she said, voice coarse after months of not being used. “He was just with me, we were on a ship heading to Geonosis… t-to aid you and Anakin, and… did you say during?”

“Yes. Once the two of you got to Geonosis,” master Windu interjected, “he refused to fight alongside the clone troopers. He considered them…” he paused, carefully choosing the words to use, “beneath him. You can read the report yourself, one of the clones in your squad provided a detailed account of the situation”. My squad? blurry images of white armour flashed in her mind but Lexie forced her attention to master Windu’s words. His voice was steady, no hint of emotion as he nonchalantly delivered the most devastating news for Lexie to hear and then handing a datapad towards the injured Padawan.

Lexie took the datapad master Windu offered her, but could not bring herself to look at the report just yet, feeling the anger and pain bubbling up inside of her and worried about keeping her composure in front of the two Jedi. “Thank you masters, I will look through it later, I… I’m a bit lightheaded at the moment.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said, sitting up from the chair. “We’ll let you rest now, gather your strength, we can discuss your situation at a later time”.

Your situation, the words ring in her head as she braided her bright red hair. She has a meeting with the Council that afternoon, after three weeks of physical therapy and psych evals she has no idea how she passed. Frustration increased as she once again could not hold onto the images that passed through her mind. What’s worse, she’s been feeling so disconnected from the Force, struggling to meditate, not that it ever came easy to her, and also use her abilities. Struggles she has kept from Obi-Wan, who has been checking in on her during her recovery. But now she had to face the Council, had to hide her struggles and insecurities from them, fearing disappointing them.

At least with Obi-Wan there, she hadn’t felt completely abandoned. Considering the amount of times Master al’Prani had dropped her on his head in the past few years, Obi-Wan was becoming more of a master to her than al’Prani ever was. Guess I shouldn’t be that surprised he just up and left me on a battlefield, she thought to herself, anger bubbling inside of her again. But she still was surprised, and angry, and confused, she tried to not blame herself but she couldn’t help feeling like it was somehow her fault, like if she hadn’t been such a disappointment to him, he would not have left. She shook her head trying to get the thoughts out then looked at the time. Shit! She was late.

Reaching the door to the Council room, Lexie stopped to catch her breath and to adjust her black robes. She didn’t wear this colour before but considered it appropriate these past couple of weeks, feeling as if she was almost in mourning. Taking three long breaths, she tried to clear her mind before entering the room.

“Waiting we have been, come, come”. All eyes followed her as she approached the centre. She looked around quickly, taking in the forms present in person or via hologram, then lowered her head and spoke as clear as she could, trying to hide the anxiety in her voice, “My apologies Master Yoda, I seem to have lost track of time.”

“How are you feeling, Alexis?”  Obi-Wan asked.

“Better, Master. I have been cleared by the medics, I am ready to return to my duties.” She replied, trying to sound confident. This is what I need right now, she thought, craving something to occupy her mind, some action so she could feel like herself again.

“Good to hear that is. A decision about your future this Council has made” Yoda continued. Lexie looked at him, waiting for her verdict. Her heart was pounding in her chest as all her concentration was focused on her mental walls, trying as hard as she could not to let the council members feels the anxiety within her.

“As you know,” Mace Windu begun talking, “former master al’Prani was reaching the end of your training. He believed there wasn’t much left for him to teach you”.

She tried to stop her face from grimacing at the words, remembering a similar sentence al’Prani had spoken to her months before Geonosis: “You seem intent on not learning any lesson I am trying to teach you”. Her mind got lost in the memory, anxiety slowly enveloping all her senses.

“…to consider what you have been through on Geonosis as your Trials and grant you the rank of Jedi Knight”. Those words snapped Lexie back to the present, did she hear him right? Did they really believe she was ready to be a Knight?  She opened her mouth to voice her concerns but immediately closed it. What was she going to do, argue with the Council’s decision? But how can they say I passed Trials that I don’t even remember? she thought, but then recalled how she kept that piece of information from them, not even confiding in Obi-Wan about her memory problems.

“We thought you would be more excited about this”, Obi-Wan’s voice stopped her rambling thoughts.

 “I-I am, of course. It’s just a lot to take in, and, if I am honest, I cannot stop feeling a little disappointed my master is not here to give me the… the happy news himself”, Lexie answered, cringing internally at how fast she spoke and how forced the words had sounded. “What happens now? Do I get assigned a battalion?” she asked after a short pause, hoping to move the subject along.

“At this time we cannot assign you your own battalion”, Master Windu spoke again, either not noticing or not wanting to deal with her conflicting emotions. “However, we believe the best course of action would be for you to join Anakin Skywalker as second commanding officer of the 501st. This arrangement could prove… mutually beneficial”.

“Mutually beneficial?”, she repeated, a slight frown showing on her face.

“Yes. You see, Anakin has been in command of this battalion for a few months now, so there’s a lot you could learn from him”, Obi-Wan interjected; she swore she could hear Master Windu scoff at that statement. “And in turn you could help… curve his impulsiveness, be a good influence on him. The battalion is due to return on world later today and Anakin is expecting you at the barracks first thing tomorrow”, Obi-Wan concluded, giving her a reassuring smile.

Lexie almost laughed at this. If they think I could be a good influence on anybody they don’t know me that well. She kept that thought to herself however, and instead bowed her head. “I understand. Thank you masters, I will do as instructed”.

On her way back to her room Lexie felt the anxiety creeping back in, filling every space of her mind. She was not ready for this, how could they think she was ready for this? Upon reaching her room she quickly peeled off her robes, the layers suddenly suffocating her. She sat down on the floor, trying to meditate, to ground herself in the moment, feeling the beginning of a panic attack. She didn’t think she had panic attacks before. But ever since waking up from her coma, they had been a common occurrence.

Meditating proved more effective this time, Lexie’s heartrate coming back to a more normal pace after a few minutes. Maker, I need a drink, she thought. She dug through her closet, looking for a more inconspicuous outfit, not wishing to attract much attention to herself when out. As a Jedi, she didn’t own many clothing items, however she did have a couple dresses and blouses that she would use on nights out, nights when she pretended to be a regular woman enjoying herself in a club or bar. For this occasion, though, she found a plain, dark-grey hooded jacket that she threw over the black tank top she was already wearing. She kept it unbuttoned, a moderate amount of cleavage still visible. She wasn’t going to specifically look for a hook-up tonight, but wasn’t necessarily opposed to anyone coming up to hit on her.

She went to her usual club, planning on only having one, maybe two drinks. However, the need to drown her insecurities got the better of her and five drinks later she was still at the bar, flirting with a Pantoran man who had just offered to buy her another drink.

She liked the confidence that being drunk would give her, she felt like a different person altogether, like a normal person who could comfortably flirt with other people. She wondered for a second if it was problematic that pretty much all of her hook-ups happened whilst she was drunk, or at least tipsy, but she tried to assure herself that she had always been in control, knowing her limit; hell, she had never gotten blackout drunk, never once vomited from alcohol, she just liked to have fun occasionally, to blow off steam.

Lexie was about to accept the man’s offer when she spotted a familiar Tholothian woman walking in the club. Shit, Gemma. The next second Lexie had pulled the hood over her head and was almost running to the exit, keeping her head down as the Tholothian made her way to a booth where she was greeted by loud, already drunk friends. Lexie exhaled a sigh of relief as she stepped in the chilly night air of Coruscant.

She could not deal with seeing Gemma right now, or with the apologies she would have to make. Guilt crept inside of her as she thought of how she basically ghosted the poor woman. I did say from the beginning that I cannot do more than casual, she tried pleading with her guilty conscience, but she knew she had not treated Gemma right.

Lexie realised she had been walking aimlessly for quite some time now, lost in her guilt, and stopped to look around confused as to where she was. The alcohol in her system was also not helping her in recognising her surroundings. She heard loud chatter ahead and followed it, coming face to face with what was, for her, an unusual sight.

She wasn’t used to the clones yet, she had seen a few troopers around, mainly the Coruscant guard or Commander Cody when he would come to retrieve Obi-Wan, but she hadn’t interacted with them at all during her recovery. But now, in front of a cantina she could see was named 79s, Lexie saw a bunch of them, in either officer uniform or in armor with various markings on it. She observed them for a little while, drunk, rowdy, joking around amongst themselves, they didn’t seem to act any different than other drunk men she had encountered in clubs before.

Alcohol-induced curiosity got the better of her and she decided to go inside the bar. I might as well get used to being among these men, she justified in her head. As she made her way to the entrance she pulled her hood down, gaining a low wolf-whistle that she ignored from one of the clones stood by the entrance.

The club was dimly lit and crowded, mainly with clones, but other sentients, mostly women as far as she could see, were mingling with the troopers. Lexie made her way to the bar, sitting down on a barstool as she ordered a cocktail. She looked around the space, taking in the different hairstyles or tattoos that the clones had, fascinated by their need for individuality. But they really were all individuals, she could feel them each through the Force, all their life signatures unique, something that really surprised her.

Lexie hadn’t thought about them much these past few weeks, being solely focused on her recovery. But being inside the bar right now, she was suddenly struck by how human they all were and, just as suddenly, the knowledge that the Republic had bred these sentient, living beings just to throw them into a war made her feel a pit inside her stomach.

Lexie was brought back from her unnerving thoughts by the realisation that she was being watched and turned her head slightly, just in time to notice two clones basically pushing a third clone towards herself. The clone stumbled and briefly met her eyes, before quickly averting them, embarrassment and nervousness seeping from his Force signature, followed by annoyance as he turned his head to look back at the men that threw him into this situation.

“H-Hi…”, he managed to say, looking back at her.

“Hello there”, Lexie replied, voice full of amusement. This should be fun, she thought to herself, studying the trooper in front of her. There wasn’t anything particular about his appearance, he had a standard haircut and no visible tattoos. The most striking aspect of his look was the handprint located on his chestplate, similar but not identical in colour to the other blue markings on his armor; blue, is that the 501st colour?

“I uhh… I’m Echo”, he said hesitantly.

“That’s an… interesting name. Is that short for echolocation, do you have really good hearing or something?”, Lexie replied teasingly.

“Umm, no, I wish”, he said with an embarrassed chuckle, “I-I used to have this tendency to repeat the orders we were given during training. My umm… my brothers used it to tease me and I guess it just stuck”.

“Well, it’s a pretty cool name regardless”, Lexie said, earning a shy smile from the trooper that was still stood stiffly next to her. “So what brings you over here, Echo?”, she gestured to the space between the two of them.

“I didn’t… it wasn’t really my idea, umm… my brothers keep insisting I need to… umm… talk to a woman. I’m sorry for disturbing you”, he said apologetically. Lexie looked over his shoulder to where the two clones were now leaning on the end of the bar, far enough that she didn’t think they could hear their conversation, but clearly still keeping an eye on their brother’s attempt at flirting.

One of the clones had a more striking appearance, his hair shaved, a big tattoo of the Republic crest adorned half his face and a big part of his skull. The other clone also had a facial tattoo, however smaller and on his right temple, showing the number five in Aurebesh; his appearance was otherwise that of a standard clone, minus a hint of a goatee on his chin.

“No worries, I was starting to get bored actually. And I assume that if I turn you away they’ll just find another woman to throw you at?” she asked half laughing.

“Most likely”, Echo answered with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Then you’d better join me”, Lexie said motioning to the empty barstool next to her. “I expect they’ll leave you alone if they believe you’re getting somewhere”.

Echo reluctantly took the seat next to Lexie, even more nervousness enveloping his Force signature. They sat in silence for a moment as Lexie took a few sips of her drink. Finally, Echo seemed to have gathered enough courage to continue their conversation.

  “I-I don’t want to give you the wrong idea if… umm… if you were looking for…”, he paused, having trouble choosing his words, “for something specific tonight”. His eyes could not meet hers, instead focusing on the drink that she was holding.

 Lexie let out a small laugh. “Don’t worry, honey, I was not going to sleep with you even if you had wanted it.”

 “That’s good”, Echo said with a small sight of relief. “I mean I-I don’t want to offend you, I’m just not…”, he paused, unsure if he should be admitting this out loud. “I’m just not really interested in this.”

 “This being women?”, she asked tentatively.

 “Women, men, anyone for that matter. I just don’t think I’m… attracted to anyone”, Echo replied, eyes turned back to her face, awaiting to see her reaction.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know that right? And your brothers shouldn’t force you to be someone you’re not just because they refuse to understand”, Lexie replied with a little indignation in her voice.

“No, I know, I’m not ashamed or anything”, he continued. “And they’re not… well I never actually tried to explain it to them. When Fives and I were at the outpost there was no need to talk about it and I managed to avoid it the last time we were on Coruscant. Fives was too busy finding someone for himself and didn’t pay much attention to me all four days of our leave. This is only the second time we’ve been here actually, Fives and I that is. Jesse has been with the 501st longer than we have.”

So they are with the 501st. “I’m gonna go ahead and assume Fives is the one with the tattoo of the number five”, Lexie remarked with mock deliberation, looking over Echo’s shoulder at the clone in question.

 “Yeah that is a good assumption”, he said with a small laugh. Lexie could feel he was more relaxed now and was surprised to discover she was actually enjoying his company. She’s never really had friendly conversations in bars before, usually only approaching people when she was interested in a possible hook-up, or on the occasions she was looking for information during a mission.

Echo talked a little about the shenanigans he and Fives used to get into back as cadets on Kamino, making Lexie genuinely laugh a couple of time. She could tell that the bond between the two men was special and couldn’t help feeling a little envious. Her thoughts briefly wondered towards her own family, Myria’s face appearing into her mind. No, stop that. She had to change the subject.

 “So, the famous 501st. What is that like?”, she asked after taking a sip of her drink.

“I don’t know if we’re that famous, but they’re good men, all of them. And our general is one of the best”, he answered proudly. “It’s weird though, the reason we’re back on Coruscant is so we can pick up a new general, which seems unnecessary. Fives said they’re probably sending some boring, stuck-up Jedi to babysit General Skywalker, the other Jedi must believe he’s too impulsive”.

  “Anakin impulsive? No way”, Lexie replied with sarcastic shock and a laugh. A sly smile crept on her face as she watched the confused expression Echo made. She stood and downed the last of her drink. “And I wouldn’t worry about the new general, she’s not that bad I think. But then again, I am biased”.

 Echo opened his mouth to say something but before he could get the words out Fives was at Lexie’s side, his hand sliding on her lower back.

“You’re not leaving, are you mesh’la?” he asked in a sweet voice.

 “Oh you’re a bold one”, she replied glancing at his arm and then back at his face, matching the tone of his voice. She was intrigued by the word he used to address her. Was that in Mando’a?

“What can I say, it breaks my heart to see a beautiful woman leave this place disappointed. Unlike this di’kut over here I could make it worth your while if you stayed a little longer”, he said as his head jerked towards Echo then lowered a little towards her.

 “Fives!”, Echo said in an urgent tone, “she’s a Jedi. I think.” His eyes met Lexie’s looking for confirmation, embarrassment once again engulfing him.

“Ten points for Echo”, she replied with a laugh. Fives’ hand immediately withdrew from her body, landing on the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously.

  “S-Sorry, Sir, I didn’t realise”, he said, concern easy to distinguish in his voice as he stepped away from her. Sir? Is that what everyone is gonna call me?

“No need to worry, honey”, she said, amused by the clone’s reaction. “And to answer your question, I am unfortunately leaving, have to be up early.” She noticed the other clone – Jesse, Echo said, right? – had approached them and she gave him a smile. She patted Echo twice on the shoulder and started making her way towards the exit, turning her head to loudly say “see you tomorrow, boys!”.

She laughed to herself as she heard Echo tell the others “I think that was our new general” before the distance snuffed out their voices and she went out the door into the cold night air.

[extasiswings]

Buck and Eddie could full out have sex at the bachelor party in 7x06 and some of y’all would be like “Buddie canon is so dead/never happening” and also complain about it being bad and evil because “it’s cheating” or whatever 🙄

[nebula-remnants]

drew them while waiting for my class

[zootopiathingz]

Slow burn except I’m extremely impatient so they get together in like 4 chapters

[ariadnes-red-thread]

The Last Word: Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR: SAY NOTHING

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter [coming soon]

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Fives/OFC

Chapter Summary: Brought face-to-face with Fives after their one-night stand, Mal faces hard choices and harder truths. Meanwhile, Fives knows at least one thing that this new battalion medic is hiding and he's beginning to suspect that there might be more.

Chapter Warnings: Some swearing (mostly in mand'o), Mentions of Umbara/past trauma and past sexual situations, canon-typical violence, character death mention/flashback

Chapter Word Count: 5.8k

Recommended Listening: Say Nothing by Flume feat. MAY-A

A/N: Another new chapter? Within a month? WHO IS SHE?

Ao3

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She was staring, a sardonic voice pointed out from somewhere deep within her. Mal snapped her mouth shut and clenched her jaw to keep it from falling open again. Fives was here.

For a moment, she glowed. Mal felt herself light up as the night before enveloped her. She thought about the boundless joy of his laugh, the soft friction of his facial hair, the heat of his broad body, the gentle and hungry press of his lips. Then, she caught the dull reflection of her green eyes in the durasteel wall behind him. 

Panic rippled through Mal’s body, casting any lightness into deep, dark shadow. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“This is Tup.” Mal’s heart was racing as Kix went down the line, oblivious to the inner turmoil that she’d been thrown into. “And this is Fives, our resident ARC.”

“And resident pain in the ass,” Jesse added.

Fives pressed his lips together in a smirk. There was no doubt he recognized her. The ripples of panic swelled into waves that threatened to pull her under any moment. She did the only thing she could think of.

“Nice to meet you.” Mal quickly spoke, a bit louder than she meant. 

Tup gave a cheerful reply that she only faintly heard. Instead, Mal stared at his brother. Fives’ eyebrows shot up. His eyes flashed over her and he frowned before he finally nodded. Mal let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“Likewise.” Fives’ reply was pointed, but only to her.

“Come on,” Kix said as he took a step forward, oblivious to the thousand little unspoken words that had just passed between his new civilian medic and his brother. “I’m starving.”

The small group moved together to the mess hall. Around her, Jesse, Kix, and Tup joked and laughed. Only she and Fives walked in silence, sweating under the unforgiving lights. 

The waves of panic had passed, turning into a heavy rock that sat in the pit of her stomach. While Mal waited for his move, she ruminated on her bad luck. The chance of Fives being in her battalion had to have been a million to one. But here he was and now she was about to eat dinner with him. She half-listened to Jesse as he made a joke about GAR food and let out an obligatory laugh when she was supposed to, but inside, Mal was reeling.</p>

No Jedi, no medics, and especially no clones. She had that rule for cycles, and now one slip-up, fueled by alcohol and momentary passion, could undo everything. To begin with, it was unethical and unprofessional. She was already an outsider in an army of brothers. While the 104th was her family, the 501st wasn’t. They didn’t know her and she didn’t want them to make assumptions before they did. Then there was the moral failing of sleeping with her patient. She would have to care for him and now she risked her position being compromised. Any care she gave him or any of his brothers would be scrutinized to make sure she wasn’t showing favoritism, misusing resources, or wasting GAR time. The upper management of the civilian volunteer force would descend on her like a pack of danchafs. And that was if they didn’t just discharge her.

And that, she thought, as her. stomach began to turn, would be unthinkable. This was supposed to be her chance to make things right. The 501st was where she was going to find answers. But now a single mistake threatened it all. 

For one weak moment, Mal wondered if there was still time to transfer back. She missed the 104th more than ever. Sinker would think this was hilarious and do that thing where he laughed so hard he snorted. Boost would roll his eyes. Mal let out a small sigh to herself. She needed that right now. She could even go for one of Crux’s lectures.

The mess hall was loud and crowded. It pulled her back to her surroundings and away from the spiral of her inner monologue. Kix checked in to make sure she was familiar. After she reassured him, he and Jesse took off for the dessert station.

She gathered her tray and got in line. Involuntarily, her eyes drifted over the soldiers, trying to find Wolffe’s scowl, even though she knew it was light years away. Instead, she found only unfamiliar, familiar faces. Protein cubes turned her stomach in a good day and today she almost retched as it was plopped onto her plate.

“Not a fan?” Tup asked, making her start. She hadn’t realized he’d followed her in line. “Can’t say they’re my favorite either.”

“I uh…” Mal grimaced as she tried to fix her face. “Yeah.”

“Look at it.” Tup poked at the jiggling block before he shot her a commiserating look. “We got real meals on Kamino. 'Bout the only thing I miss about that soggy planet. But you get used to ‘em.”

You get used to ‘em. Mal nodded. She thought about telling Tup that no matter how many GAR meals she ate, the protein cubes would always taste of metal ore to her. But she didn’t say it. She opened her mouth just to make sure she could.

Mal followed Tup over to the table where the four other clones were waiting for them. Kix and Jesse were arguing over something that sounded like a battle strategy but also could have been a drinking game. Tup sat next to Jesse, and as Mal slid onto the bench beside him, She found herself face-to-face with Fives again. He was still watching her carefully.  

 Her hope for answers, everything she was here to do could shatter right before her eyes. She shifted her jaw as her mind raced. She could do something. Mal had to do something. 

“I’ll grab water for the table.” She put her tray down. “It’s Fives, right? Want to give me a hand?”

Fives raised an eyebrow at Mal as he hesitated, but curiosity seemed to get the better of him.

“Roger, roger.” He said as he stood, his umber eyes never leaving hers. 

For a moment, she hesitated, wilting in his dark look. Something in her wanted to make him laugh just so she could hear it again. Seconds passed and Mal felt the other three watching her curiously. She spun on her heels, and the table soon turned its attention and debate quickly pick back up. Fives was hot behind her, catching up to her pace in just a few strides. A moment of silence passed as Mal waited until she was out of earshot from the table.

“I’m sorry about the greeting.” Mal’s words were hushed, falling stuttered from her lips as she made her way across the mess with the ARC trooper. “I was caught off guard.”

“That makes two of us.”

His low voice was right in her ear. Her breath hitched just a little as she realized how close he was.

She finally reached the water fountain. Mal took five cups from the stack piled on the counter and handed two of them to Fives. This gave her a moment to look at the man. He stood less than a foot away, one armored hip leaning up against the counter as he waited on her next move. Mal swallowed. He was so very close. The last time he had been this close, his lips had been pressed against her cheek. She blinked, pushing the memory away. 

“I just think it’s best if we keep things professional.”

“You made that very clear.”  

Fives’ voice was still low and it was becoming increasingly unfriendly. A part of her stung as she realized she never would have thought it came from the same relaxed, warm man who was in her apartment just hours ago. Focus, Mal thought to herself, You have to do this.

“I’m sorry, I don’t…” Mal started before Fives cut her off.

“Don’t worry, cyar’ika.” Fives’ tone returned to casual as he began to fill the glasses in his hands with water. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Despite his reassuring words, she couldn’t help feeling like she’d fucked up again. His attention never left the glasses and, after he finished, he took a wide step away, giving her plenty of space to fill her three cups. Mal walked silently back to their meals, several steps behind the clone. The men at the table had seemingly settled their debate, and decided to turn their attention to her.

“So you’re from the 104th, huh? What’s Wolffe actually like?” Jesse asked as she sat back in her seat. “I bet he’s a big softie.”

“You thought Fox would be a softie and how did that turn out?” Fives scoffed at his brother as he slid him a cup of water.

“I’ll win him over yet.” Jesse grinned.

“Not with that lifetime ban from the Senate you won’t.” Kix prodded Jesse with an elbow to the side.

Jesse waved off his brothers as he turned back to her. Mal quickly began to stuff the protein cube into her mouth to avoid his questions, only retching a little at the taste.

“Were you on Khorm when he lost his eye?”

Mal coughed, choking on the gelatinous mouthful. 

“Jesse, shut the fuck up,” Kix ordered. 

Mal shot Kix a grateful smile as she carefully swallowed. She hadn’t spent long with Kix, but she had a feeling he didn’t take that tone with Jessie often. Jessie, for his part, suddenly found himself preoccupied with his protein cube, a slightly sheepish look on his face.

“So what planet are you from?” Tup asked, trying to find a more friendly topic.

Her stomach clenched. Another subject she wanted to avoid. Mal hadn’t considered that this new squad wouldn’t know her from Chancellor Palpatine. There was a privilege in not having to explain herself and it was gone now.

She weighed the answer for a moment.

“Takodana.” Mal finally answered truthfully.

Fives snorted. Mal’s eyes shot to him as she waited. He just shook his head. Then he paused for a moment before he lifted his eyes to hers.

“Takodana? Why do I know that name?” Fives looked at her for the first time since they had both sat down.

She held her breath for a moment. She watched as he frowned, deep in thought. While Fives was distracted, Jesse spotted an opportunity. He snatched the cake from Fives’ tray while the clone was frowning at Mal.

“Hey!” Fives swiped at air as he realized the theft.

“That’s for the caf this morning.” Jesse grinned at the ARC trooper. 

Mal sighed in relief as Fives also excused himself quickly after. She watched out of the corner of her as he walked away. He didn’t look back. The conversation devolved into brotherly harassment as the boys lost all interest in grilling the new girl.

Mal stayed through the meal and long enough for Kix to give her a digital tour of the Venator med bay, but soon he released her with praise for her first day that mostly involved how well she put up with Jesse, and instructions for reporting bright and early tomorrow. The 501st was shipping out again. 

It wasn’t until her apartment door slid shut behind her, Mal realized she had made it back to her apartment. It felt like a lifetime ago that she had left it. The shadows seem longer, jutting out at strange angles, like the place wasn’t quite hers anymore. She didn’t bother to turn on the light as she dragged her body across the small studio, the city offering enough of its own through the windows. Mal stripped the jumpsuit from her body and threw herself into bed, exhausted emotionally and physically. Despite the tiredness that clung to her bones, she immediately sat back up. A spicy, sweet scent of whiskey, smoke, and heady sweat invaded her nostrils. It was Fives. He was still lingering on the sheets. 

She tossed for a few moments and tried to ignore it but, no matter what position she lay in, he followed her, his memory wrapped around her just as he had earlier that same day. She couldn’t escape it, no more than she could when she fumbled her greeting to him. She’d slept with one of the men she was supposed to protect, to help. Fraternization was specifically against the rules for civilians and GAR soldiers. She’d be discharged without a second thought. 

On the bedside table, the small Wolfpack pin glinted in the moonlight. She would fail Wolffe, Crux, and even Tye. And, worse, she would fail the twins. She turned again, but a new wave of Fives and a memory of his arms wrapping around her suddenly was suddenly all around her.

Mal huffed and threw the blankets back. She swung her legs off the side of the bed, sitting up. Mal hung her head, letting it fall to her palms for a moment. Too tired to change the sheets, she pulled her duvet behind her as she dragged herself to the chair. 

The nightmares came again that night.

Mal’s words were a bucket of ice down his spine. Cold and formal. He scanned her face but there was no hint of recognition. Fives reeled. For a moment, he teetered on the edge of calling her out. Nice to meet you? Did my dick give you amnesia? But then he thought about his vode. He didn’t need them to see this rejection. No, for all they knew he had a one-night stand who he left breathless and reeling and totally in love with him. He was going to keep it that way. For now.

“Likewise.” He finally settled on the curt reply.

“Come on,” Kix pushed forward, his mind on food as usual. “I’m starving.”

He watched her from the corner of his eye. She was laughing at something Jessie had said, but he could see that she was watching him too. Probably scared he was going to air her dirty little secret. Tup noticed something was wrong right away. He shot Fives a look as they were swept up in the mess hall crowd. A wordless conversation passed between them. A look of concern. A shrug of unconcern. An eyebrow of skepticism. A smile of reassurance. 

Relax, Fives reminded himself. Time to watch and see how this plays out. Think like an ARC. 

He piled his tray with fortified protein and settled into the table with his friends but no sooner than he had sat down, his eyes found her again. 

Mal trailed behind Tup. She shifted as she walked. A wiggle of her fingers, a soft clench and unclench of her jaw, a slight roll of her neck. It was like she was taking roll call of her body. A red curl escaped her hair tie and hung down over her eyes. She glanced at it and huffed, blowing it to the side. She glared at the errant lock as it fell back into her face, the dusting of freckles on her nose wrinkling. Tup led her to their table, sliding in next to Jesse, leaving enough room for Mal next to him, and right across from Fives.

She didn’t seem to realize where she was sitting until she was almost at his eye level. Finally, her jeweled orbs met his. Mal blinked as she stared at him for a moment. He tried to hold her emerald stare. Why, he wasn’t sure.

“I’m going to go grab water for the table.” She quickly announced to the table before she turned back to him. “It’s Fives, right? Want to give me a hand?”

The hesitancy was a nice touch. Smart. Fives raised an eyebrow as he considered her invitation. Half of him wanted to reject her immediately, but he wanted to see where this was going.

“Roger, roger.” He rose, stepping over the bench to follow her. 

Fives trailed behind her, watching as other clones turned, sometimes slowly and others obviously, and elbowed each other when they took notice of her. He couldn’t blame them, but a frown still snuck across his face. The gray jumpsuit with its long blue stripes along the seams swallowed up most civilian medics, but hers gently hugged her curves, showing the lines of her body that he had traced just hours ago. Luckily, before his mind could wander too far, Mal tilted her face up towards him. She had waited until they were out of earshot of the table.

“I’m sorry about the greeting.” Her voice was quiet. Something about that irritated him even more. There wasn’t even anyone else around and she was still scared of being noticed with him. “I was caught off guard.”

“That makes two of us.” Fives thought it was a measured response.

“I just think it’s best if we keep things professional.”

She wasn’t wrong. Fraternizing with civilian members of the GAR was strictly forbidden. He didn’t think Rex would care, and Skywalker… well that was a more unpredictable reaction, but he suspected the General would look the other way. Clones trapped under lesser Jedi would be at risk of reassignment or worse. Still, that didn’t excuse her and Fives pulled no punches with his tone.

“You made that very clear.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t…” She started.

Mal shifted under his blazing look. Fives decided that, whatever was coming next, he wasn’t going to hear it. She didn’t get to apologize to him. He didn't want it and he didn't need it. 

“Don’t worry, cyar’ika.” Fives kept his voice as even as he could as he turned to start filling up water glasses. “Your secret is safe with me.”

He turned back to the table, spilling water over his hands in the rush. He told himself to slow down. Breathe. He wasn’t going to let her ruin his mood. Ruin this day. Fuck that and fuck her.

He could sense Mal as she scurried behind him, trying to keep up with his long steps. They rejoined the table. Fives debated moving down next to Tup. He looked up at her again and she wilted under his stare. No, he decided. He was going to have to get used to this. His vode started in on her as soon as they got back to the table. Fives felt a flare of annoyance. 

“So you’re from the 104th? What’s Wolffe actually like?” Jesse jumped at the new girl. “I bet he’s actually a big softie.”

Fives snorted at Jesse, half-tempted to throw his water to him instead of pass it.

“You thought Fox would be a softie and how did that turn out?” Fives rolled his eyes. 

It was only last month that Fives had to go get Jesse from the base prison. Fox had glared out at him under hooded eyes, and stood still with crossed arms as Fives tried to bargain for Jesse’s release.  He knew that Fox knew that Fives had been involved with the plot to steal the Corrie Guard’s mastiff for the night, but that, unlike Jesse, they hadn’t been able to catch him. Eventually, Fox wordlessly punched a fist into a button, releasing Jesse from his cell, and then, with a single pointed finger, directed them both out of the brig. Fives wasn’t looking forward to the next time their paths crossed.

“I’ll win him over yet.” Jesse grinned, undeterred by the same memory.

“Not with that lifetime ban from all Senate buildings you won’t.” Kix prodded him with an elbow to the side.

Fives shook his head. He thought they had gotten away with their failed prank as they crawled back into their bunks, trying to get an hour of sleep before roll call. His eyes had just started to drift closed when Rex burst into the barracks, erupting and swinging his datapad at them. Somewhere in the scramble away from his momentarily deranged captain, he learned that Rex had woken up to several colorful messages informing him that Fox had banned Fives and Jesse from all Coruscant Guard-held spaces for life. It had taken twenty minutes and the promise of latrine duty for two weeks to soothe the Captain.

“Were you on Khorm when he lost his eye?”

“Jesse, shut the fuck up.” Kix snapped in a warning tone he rarely took with Jesse. Fives’ eyes flashed to Kix. Interesting. He was protective of his new medic already.

“What planet are you from?” Tup said mildly, carefully changing the subject.

“Takodana.” 

Fives snorted. A hick from a rural backwater planet. Then he heard it. Takodana. Fives’ spine stiffened at a memory he couldn’t quite grasp. That sounded familiar. He knew a lot of planets at this point. Ones he’d been to and ones he hadn’t. But there was something about that name that tugged on some recollection or information buried somewhere deep in his databanks of training. 

“Takodana? Why do I know that name?” Fives finally let his eyes meet hers again.

Her beryl eyes widened and he watched as a flash of fear rippled across her face. It was gone in the next second. He might have even imagined it. He wanted to dwell on it, to hold the moment and tear it open until he understood, but a motion from the corner of his eye caught his attention.

“Hey!” He said, as Jesse snatched his cake from his tray.

Fives tried to swipe out to grab it but it was too late. His vod planted his fork into the stolen dessert.

“That’s for the caf this morning.” Jesse stuck his tongue out at Fives with a victorious wink.

Fives shook his head at Jesse and waved his hand in surrender. 

“Savor it, vod.” He forced a laugh as he stood. “See you all later.”

Leaving the suffocating din of the mess hall behind, Fives followed a familiar path to Rex’s office. The durasteel hallways were empty while everyone was at dinner, and the only sound was the rhythmic echo of his boots against the floor. Usually, Fives appreciated these quiet moments alone. He loved his brothers, and he knew he could be as loud as any of them, but moments where he could hear himself think were precious and far apart when in an army of millions.  There was nothing solitary about this moment, though. His thoughts marched beside him, louder than the clang of his footsteps, with memories as all-consuming as the vacuum of space. It wasn’t until Fives reached Rex’s door that he snapped out of the deep trance. There were voices on the other side.

The blast door slid open just as Fives raised his hand to knock. He stepped back to let General Skywalker and General Kenobi walk out.

“Hello there, Fives,” Kenobi greeted him as Anakin nodded.

“Evening, Generals.” He saluted the Jedi. “Commander Tano.”

The Togruta followed behind the Masters, buzzing with an excitement that Fives knew could only mean a new mission.

“Be nice to Rex,” Ahsoka winked at Fives and he felt his icy mood melt just a little. Ahsoka’s good moods were infectious around the 501st. When she was happy, they all tended to be. “He just spent two hours trying to rein in Skyguy's battle plans.”

Her master shot a look of annoyance at the padawan and the clone before he chuckled and shrugged.

“She’s not wrong.” Anakin flashed a brazen grin at the ARC trooper.

“I’m shocked, General.” Fives smiled back before he turned to Ahsoka with a wink of his own. “And when have I ever been mean to Rex?”

All three Jedi laughed at that.

“Have a good evening, Fives.” Anakin bowed his head before the three Jedi turned back to their journey, likely back to the Temple.

“You too, Sirs.”

Fives stepped into the dark office space. Rex sat at his desk, massaging his temples, as he frowned at a holomap glowing in the dim light.

“Tano and Kenobi act like Skywalker’s the crazy one, but they’re all just as bad.” Rex groaned, not looking up at Fives. 

“We’ll make the most of their plans and take whatever the Seppies throw at us.” Fives settled into one of the chairs across from Rex. “You know that, Captain.”

“Of course,” Rex pressed his thumb to a button on his desk, and the holomap disappeared. The lights returned to the room, and he leaned back into his chair, taking on the quiet calm that came from being alone with an old friend. 

“How’d the debrief with the council go yesterday?” Fives asked. He didn’t want Rex to think he rushed in here to ask about Mal. 

“As well as expected,” Rex grumbled. “Most were supportive. A couple of them tried to press me. Didn’t got over well with me or General Skywalker though.”

“We saved the galaxy from one of Dooku’s pawns, and there's Jedi out there pushing back against us?”

“Just a one or two. General Billaba had some hard questions.”

“Billaba's been out of the fight too long. I know she went through it after Haruun Kal, but to be questioning us? That's kark, sir.” Fives crossed his arms. "She just got that seat back anyways."

“They’re allowed to ask questions. It was certainly a… unique situation.”

“Well, if you need someone to take out another Jedi…”

“That’s not funny, Fives. You’re just dying to get that court martial.” 

“I was going to suggest Tup.” Fives wiggled his brows.

“Di’kut.” Rex muttered under his breath as his eyes shot upward.

Fives chuckled, enjoying the little victory of pulling an eye roll from Rex.

“The briefing’s not why you’re here, though.” Rex’s serious look melted into a wry smile. “What’s on your mind, Fives?”

Fives sighed. He never could keep anything from Rex. Maybe it was because they were brothers, or maybe it was because Rex had known him since he was a shiny on his first mission. Sometimes, he suspected it was because he was similar to Rex in ways the older clone would never admit. Whatever it was, Rex could tell he wasn’t just in his office for a nightcap.

“The new medic… what’s her deal?” Fives asked, hoping his voice was more neutral than he felt.

“Amal Darroch?” Rex raised an eyebrow at him. “Comes highly decorated and recommended from the 104th. Took everything I had to pry her from Wolffe.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, he hung up on me the first three times I asked.” Rex chuckled to himself. Fives sometimes forgot that Rex was a younger brother too.

“We need medics that bad?” Fives frowned.

“Not just medics. We need the best medics.” Then Rex eyed the arc trooper. “Come on, you know that better than anyone. Kix is ready to ban you from the medbay.”

Fives tried to smile at the joke but found it refused to come. Instead, he kept thinking about Mal.

“And she’s the best?” 

“What’s on your mind, Fives?” Rex repeated. “You’re usually not this shy about sharing.”

“Dunno…” She’s hiding something. Maybe multiple things. He wanted to shout it, grab Rex by the shoulders and shake him until he could see what Fives saw, but instead, he hesitated. They did need medics, and they needed good ones. If she was that good, his brothers would be better off with her around. “Just have some questions about her, is all.”

“Well, I’m here if you need anything.” Rex reached for his datapad, sensing the conversation was over. “Just try not to kill her or kriff her.”

Fives finally forced a laugh as he stood with a small salute.

“Roger, roger.”

Fives shut the door behind him, leaving Rex to his plans. The silent hallways that lined his path back to the barracks were even louder on his return route. Mal’s face swam before him. A flash of her laugh and the parting of her full lips melted into the image of her stoic greeting. And if she was hiding this, what else was she hiding? Why did a civilian join the war when most of them prefered to stay safe on their cities and planets far from the battle lines? What game was she playing here? This wasn’t a game to him. This was his life and his brothers’ lives. He thought of how she shifted in her seat at the mention of Takodana. There was no doubt about it. Mal was hiding more than just their night together, and Fives would have to keep an eye on her until he found out what it was.

…

Her paddle sliced through the inky glass of the water with the precision of a beskar blade. She quickly lifted the wooden tool, letting the canoe propel forward with the smallest wake. Despite the exactness of her strokes, Mal never looked down. Instead, she frowned at the horizon. It was dark and the air still held the wet chill of the night before it turns to dew, but the midnight blue at the very edges of the sky had started to pale, a sure sign that she had stayed too long. She wasn’t late. Not yet. But she paddled with a speed that she hadn’t practiced in a long time. Her shoulders ached, muscles that had long been forgotten in the mines, called out in protest of her neglect but she never winced or paused. 

She stepped out into the shallows without a splash and pulled the boat into the overgrown shore where she covered it in the browning large leaves and the ivy, damp from yesterday’s rain. Mal wiped the soil on her palms along the edges of her poncho before she reached a hand into the bag at her side. She felt the delicate petals of the nysillin and finally let her shoulders fall from her ears.

The path was overgrown, disused in the last year since the Mining Guild came, but she knew it by heart. Her feet led on as she scanned the dark underbrush, one hand on her blaster and the other one on her bag. 

She’d only made a few steps into the dark woods when a sound made her stop. Someone or something had coughed. In a flash, she pulled her blaster from her hip, gripping it at the ready as she scanned the trees. 

“How did I know I’d find you still here?”

Her eyes finally landed on the source of the sound. Leaning against a large oak a few yards up the path was a tall man, his muscled arms crossed in front of his broad chest, cutting a stern profile in the shadow of the woods. Her eyes focused on the shape and, in the last throes of starlight, she began to make out a familiar profile.

“Couldn’t help me with the boat, huh?” Mal raised an eyebrow as she lowered her blaster.

“As I recall, last time I tried to help you with the boat, you hit me with an oar.” The sandy-haired man gave a small sideways smile and for a brief moment, she recognized the boy she grew up with.

She snorted, “I forgot about that.” She watched the smile evaporate from his face and the boy she knew was gone and replaced with a soldier. Before she could wonder if he something similar had passed through his mind, she let her eyes fall to her side as she lowered her weapon. “I could have shot you.”

“You probably should’ve.” Niall’s tone was suddenly stern. “But you’re still too slow on the trigger.”

“I’m cautious,” she bit back. Mal walked past the shadow.

“Not cautious enough. What are you still doing out here?”

Mal sighed, stopping to let him catch up to her. They walked side-by-side but they both carefully watched the woods around them as they went, blasters still drawn.

“Which one?” Even though she knew the answer.

“Taron, of course.” Niall tutted, knowing she knew.

“He shouldn’t have worried you.”

“What if Aavia was out here? You know she senses these things. She wouldn’t think twice before killing you and your brothers just for fun.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Mal snapped. “She’s not even planet side. I checked.”

“Still a risk.”

“I needed nysillin.” She stopped short as a tree swayed, but it was only the wind. “Maz hasn’t been able to get anything through the blockade in weeks.”

“Well that’s up to me to worry about.” Niall turned to her and reached out. He gripped her shoulders a little too hard. “Mal, your Da told me to keep you out of this fight.”

“That’s not his decision anymore, is it?” She took a step back as she shrugged.

The step back became a step forward and then another until she fell through the familiar wood doorway.

A pair of green eyes met her. Taron was sitting at the table with his blaster trained at the door. She didn’t have time to wonder where Cadex was. The door shut behind her and she knew if she turned, the other twin would be behind with his own blaster.

“You’re late.” Taron snapped with all the angst of a teenager as Cadex threw the bolt with a click. 

Mal tossed the nysillin on the table before she sprang forward to take advantage of her sitting brother. She ran a hand through his hair, something that always drove him crazy, but was much harder now that he was taller than her.

Taron scoffed and quickly flattened his red locks back down.

“Stop, you’re so annoying.” Taron huffed.

“That was stupid.” Cadex frowned, circling around the table to lecture her. “You cut it too close.”

Mal knew it wouldn’t help his mood, but she smiled as Cadex crossed his arms. He was doing his best impression of Jonan Darroch, even if he didn’t realize it.

“Okay, Da.” she giggled.

Mal blinked and then started, laughter dying in her lips.

Where Cadex had been standing, Jonan Darroch now stood. Where their house had been, the town center had filled in the gaps, leaking through the floorboards like quicksand, pulling their house down to reveal only gray stone and boarded-up shops. Mal knew what came next. A red lightsaber already glowed in her Da's belly.

“You were supposed to protect them.” Da’s voice filled the square and echoed off the cobblestone as it filled her ears, his face contorting as his last breath twisted his words into a piercing shriek.

Jonan Darroch, a tall blue woman stepped out, letting the man collapse to the ground as she drew back her blade. Mal watched as her Da crumbled, lifeless. She tried to run to him, to scream for help, but she found herself frozen. Again.

Aavia smirked, her red eyes sparkling with a cruel mirth. Behind her, the twins stood still, arms behind their backs. She forgot how much taller Taron was now. When she looked up at him, she could see the emerald lodes running out from his dark pupils. 

Not irises. Veins. She could see the veins of the leaves, even on the gray day. Rivers of water ran along its creased center and fell off in heavy droplets onto her face. Aavia’s gleeful voice cut the patter of the rain.

“And you called me a murderer.”

[fandom-friday]

I already submitted 1 for this week, but some of my fav fics have had updates/new chapter drops in the past couple of weeks, so wanted to shout these out too:

Dominoes by @meridiansdominoes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11864643/chapters/26789934

One of my fav fics ever, starring the original Domino squad… We’re off to UMBARA kids! *stressed AF*

In Command by @wild-karrde

https://www.tumblr.com/wild-karrde/702398234256195584/in-command-master-list?source=share

I’ve already screamed at you about it, but so excited to see the re-write of one of my fav fics progress! The emotion that shines through just gives me chills. And Senna is my stubborn and reckless spirit animal.

Walk Me Home by @cyarbika

This new chapter drop had me drooling. Spicy 🔥 Sassy and Sexy - my fav combo. Lemony lemon.

How Long Will it Take You to Slow Down by @saturn-sends-hugs

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44765179/chapters/112629625

Every new chapter drop in this series gives me anxiety because this series is deliciously whumpy. But Saturn writes Echo’s headspace in such an emotional way. He’s a PTSD loaded trainwreck I can’t look away from. I love him in every way! Love how Tech got some time to shine in this update,

Fools Errand by @staycalmandhugaclone

https://www.tumblr.com/staycalmandhugaclone/752401340394799104/fools-errand-pt-1

This is a new arc in Doc’s Misadventures, about a medic running with TBB. And listen - this might be the best arc yet. Stay Calm is the most descriptive writer and just sucks you right into the story. Her OC Doc has so much compassion for those around her, but is also a 100% certified badass and it’s just the best combo, honestly. I love her. And seeing her relationship grow and change with the boys has been amazing. Echo really gets time to shine in this story, which has been stellar. Heavy whump and spicy in some story arcs.

As always, thanks for all the things @fandom-friday !!

Multiple submissions are ALWAYS welcome! This is an absolutely fantastic list, and I am completely and totally honored to be included on it with so many outstanding writers! Thanks so much for putting this together and sending it in!

Link to Walk Me Home

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

[bizarrelittlemew]

pssst hey if you want an Ed/Stede wedding there is one in the epilogue of Something timeless going on 💕 my first multi-chapter fic that i wrote almost a year ago (37k, E, canon divergence/pining while fucking)

[scionshtola]

sweet distraction

summary: On Friday night, Y’shtola found herself alone at the only bar in town. Corisande saves her from ending the night early. pairing: Corisande Ymir/Y'shtola Rhul word count: 2.4k | rated: G | read on ao3 notes: a modern day AU of sorts, where Y'shtola is a geologist new to town and Cori is a ranch hand who shows her around. there's a little bit of Hilda/Joye in here because I could not resist [divider credit]

On Friday night, Y’shtola found herself alone at the only bar in town.

“Leave your books and your research in your motel room for one night,” Hilda had said outside Y’shtola’s room only an hour ago, the same thing she’d said to Y’shtola every weekend since Y’shtola had arrived in town a few weeks ago. Y’shtola had shocked them both by agreeing, and then Hilda had shocked her by abandoning her for a pretty young woman, blonde hair divided into two braids over her shoulders, the moment their drinks had arrived. She’d given Y’shtola a shrug and a wave as she followed behind Joye, carrying both their drinks.

She could have left then, could have gone back to her room where her books and her research still waited for her. But something had held her back, something that had her keeping a vaguely interested eye on the crowd as she pushed her straw around her drink. 

Part of her—a small part—had hoped Corisande would be here tonight. Not that Y’shtola thought about them often, but they’d spent the greater part of the last few weeks together, with Corisande escorting Y’shtola around the Haillenarte ranch as she ran her tests on the land. It was only natural that her thoughts might stray now and again toward the ranch hand who had practically become her coworker. It was hardly her fault that ranch hand was six feet tall, with bright green eyes and the most sincere smile Y’shtola had ever seen. That was barely an observation worth noting—a simple declaration of fact.

She pushed thoughts of Corisande from her mind with a sip of a drink. She couldn’t deny there was some kind of connection between them, friendship and understanding forming between them from their very first meeting, when Corisande had shown both interest in and knowledge of Y’shtola’s work as a geologist. But Y’shtola was here for work, and she was not here for long—there was hardly even time for friendship. 

Anything else would only be a distraction.

“Mind if I join you, miss?” a soft voice said, pitched just loud enough to hear over the music. Y’shtola looked up and found herself staring directly into those bright green eyes, that sincere smile directed her way. 

“Oh,” Y’shtola said, unable to keep the note of relief out of her voice. “You’re here.”

Corisande tilted her head. Her long hair, free of its usual braid, fell in burgundy waves over their shoulder, soft pink highlights catching the warm light. “Were you waiting for me?”

Y’shtola shrugged, and tried to recover. “I figured you would show up sooner or later. Everyone else in town seems to be here.”

“There’s not much else to do on a Friday night around here,” Corisande said, with a knowing quirk to their smile that tugged at something in her, though she could not quite decipher what.

That did not bear thinking about. She tore her gaze from their mouth, letting it fall over them on its way back to her drink. Their usual plaid top had been left unbuttoned, the tails tied together in a knot on one side, revealing a low cut black tank top beneath. 

Y’shtola took another sip of her drink, mouth suddenly dry. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here, though.” Corisande set her drink on the table, a swirling sunset-colored concoction in a tall glass, and draped her jacket over the back of a chair before sliding into it. “Especially not sitting alone.”

“I was talked into taking a break,” Y’shtola said, tilting her chin to where Hilda sat with Joye, their heads bent close together. “And promptly discarded at the door for another woman.”

Corisande glanced over their shoulder, and a smile played on their lips when they turned back. 

“So you had no choice but to sulk at a table alone all night instead of, I don’t know, dancing,” they teased, gesturing toward the crowd on the dance floor that Y’shtola had kept an eye on all night—just for something to do, certainly not on the lookout for any pink tipped ears standing above the crowd. 

“I’m not sulking. I stayed to finish my drink,” Y’shtola said, swirling her glass in their direction. “Besides, I’m not much of a dancer.”

Corisande rested her chin in the palm of one hand as she sipped her drink, looking at Y’shtola with a glint in her eye that concerned her. There was an embarrassing swoop in Y’shtola’s stomach when Corisande smiled. She ignored it.

“Dance with me,” they said, tilting their head again so that Y’shtola had no choice but to follow the fall of their hair.

It took her a moment to realize what they’d said. She gave a short, incredulous laugh in response. Hadn’t she just said she was not much of a dancer? She opened her mouth to protest, but a voice boomed from the stage before she could speak. 

“Alright folks, you know what time it is! Who’s ready for some good old-fashioned line-dancing?”

Corisande’s lips parted, her eyes growing wide in excitement. She reached across the table and grabbed Y’shtola’s hand, pulling her to her feet and halfway to the dance floor before Y’shtola came to her senses with a shake of her head. 

“No, no, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, though she could not quite get herself to pull her hand from Corisande’s, their callused fingers warm against hers. 

“As your appointed guide, I can’t in good conscience let you skip out on a line dance,” Corisande answered, reaching to take Y’shtola’s other hand as well. 

“You’re only my guide at the ranch,” Y’shtola said, still not stepping back. 

“Consider this an anthropological extension of your research, then,” Corisande said, squeezing her hands. “You’ll have fun, I promise. We can stand at the back, and if you get lost you can just watch me.”

Their lips curled into a sly grin then. “You look like a quick study.”

Y’shtola did not like the way her heart skipped a beat at their words. Music started up again on stage, and Y’shtola’s protests died in her throat when Corisande moved their hips in time with it. They tugged on her hands with each slow swivel, and Y’shtola could not stop her gaze from following the long line of their legs, from where their dark jeans tucked into their tall brown boots to where they clung tightly to the curve of their ass. 

“Please?” Corisande asked. “Just one song.”

“One song,” Y’shtola relented. Corisande beamed down at her, and Y’shtola could not help but smile back. 

She let herself be pulled into line at the back of the crowd. The dance had already begun, and Corisande fell easily into the steps beside her, while Y’shtola watched the woman leading and did her best to follow the callouts. 

After a moment, Corisande caught her eye, her lips already quirked into the teasing grin Y’shtola was quickly becoming familiar with. “Good, but I know you can give it more than that,” she teased.

Y’shtola kept her eyes carefully away from where Corisande’s fingers framed her silver belt buckle, her hips swaying. Instead she followed the next step, sliding to the left and punctuating it with a quick shuffle and spin, finding her rhythm easily as she picked up the steps. When she met their eyes again, their grin had grown wider. 

“As you said,” Y’shtola said, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “I’m a quick study.”

Corisande’s head tipped back with her laughter, a sweet sound that warmed Y’shtola more than any drink this place could serve. 

When the lines turned and Y’shtola found herself behind Corisande, it was difficult not to watch her. She leaned into each movement, her long wine-colored hair swaying, a carefree ease and rhythm to each step that somehow made Y’shtola more comfortable in her own movements. 

They turned again, facing the front of the bar, and together they clapped and stomped and stepped in place with the others. Y’shtola’s skirt swung and swirled about her knees as she kicked and glided. She slid to the right, just a bit too far, and Corisande caught her with one arm around her shoulders and spun them both around. They leaned in and, just loud enough for her to hear them over the music, said, “I knew you weren’t one to do things halfway.”

Now it was Y’shtola’s turn to laugh, bubbling breathlessly out of her as they released her. The lines turned, and she felt their eyes on her from behind. She cast a glance over her shoulder, and they met her gaze with a warm smile, one that felt inexplicably secret and knowing between them despite the crowd around them. 

They caught each other’s gaze more often than not for the rest of the dance, smiling and laughing as they stepped and clapped. Each glance set off a spark in Y’shtola’s chest, leaving her warm from more than just exertion.

Corisande’s dark blue pickup rolled to a stop outside of the motel. They’d passed the short drive in a companionable kind of quiet, Corisande with one hand on the wheel and Y’shtola watching the night pass by outside the window, settled in the jacket they had slung over her shoulders. Every so often their gazes met across the cab for a moment, until Corisande’s kind smile made Y’shtola’s cheeks heat and she had to turn away. 

Now that they’d arrived outside Y’shtola’s room, she found herself reluctant to end the night so soon. But she supposed there was no use in staving off the inevitable. 

“Thank you for the ride,” she said, forcing herself to unlock the door and reach for the handle, though she did not open it just yet. “And for the dance. I had far more fun than I expected tonight.”

She could just make out Corisande’s gentle smile in the dark. They leaned back and stretched their arm across the back of the seat. “Better than a night spent with your data?”

“Yes,” Y’shtola admitted with a small laugh, and their smile grew. “I think I needed the break—I’ve been so caught up in my work I’ve hardly let myself have one since I got here. It’s good to be reminded every once in a while.”

“Happy to help,” Corisande said, the sincerity of their tone causing an embarrassing flutter in Y’shtola’s chest. Before she could get out of the truck to avoid any further flustering sentiment, Corisande’s eyes darted to the radio, which had been playing at a gentle hum in the background since they’d left the bar. “In fact…”

They shifted toward Y’shtola. She froze, her breath caught in her chest as they leaned in, until they bypassed her in favor of the window crank. Y’shtola watched them roll down her window, and then hop out of the truck and come around to the passenger side. They opened her door and helped her out of the truck with one hand, before ducking back into the truck, leaning across the seat. 

“What are you doing?” Y’shtola asked, watching them. The volume on the radio climbed and a soft, slow song emanated from the truck’s speakers, a woman’s gentle twang carrying toward her. Corisande straightened and faced her, shutting the door behind them, but it wasn’t until Corisande held their hand out, palm up, that she understood what they intended.

“You haven’t had enough dancing?” she teased, but she took their hand. She hesitated a moment, and then rested her other hand on their waist.

They moved closer without pause, putting their arm around her shoulders. “One more dance, before you get back to work.”

“I wasn’t planning on doing any work tonight.”

“Sure you weren’t,” Corisande said, beginning to turn them in small, slow circles.

“Well,” Y’shtola said, a bit sheepishly. She looked up at Corisande, who smiled teasingly down at her. “I may have wanted to go over one set of results—but only one.”

“Of course, only one,” they agreed, in a tone that indicated they definitely did not believe her. “And then another, and another, until it’s four in the morning and you’ve scattered papers all over your room.”

They lifted their arm, leading her into a twirl as she laughed before pulling her back in, somehow closer than before.  

“You may have a point,” Y’shtola said, surprisingly pleased at the way they seemed to know her so well already. Corisande only hummed, and they fell back into the same comfortable silence they’d had in the truck. Y’shtola found herself leaning in, her head resting on their chest as they turned. She tried to remember the last time she’d felt this relaxed, but nothing came to mind. And yet it hardly seemed strange at all that she should find some kind of peace in their arms, a sweet distraction from her duties here, though she had only known them a few weeks. 

When the song ended, Corisande stopped turning them. They held Y’shtola for a moment longer, and then released her, stepping back. The cold night air rushed into the space between them, making her shiver.

“I suppose I will see you Monday,” Y’shtola said. It suddenly seemed an eternity between now and then, though in reality it was only a few days.

“I suppose so,” Corisande said, her smile small but warm. She squeezed Y’shtola’s hand before letting go. “If you need a break before then, you know where to find me.”

“The ranch? Or line-dancing at the bar?” Y’shtola teased, pleased when she was rewarded with Corisande’s laugh as they turned away, heading for the other side of the truck.

“Definitely line-dancing,” they called as they climbed into the truck, reaching over to turn down the volume on the radio.

Y’shtola got the feeling that Corisande would not drive away until she was inside her room, so she bid them goodnight and went inside. It wasn’t until their headlights had completely disappeared that she realized she was still wearing their jacket. She slipped her arms into the sleeves and pulled it close for a moment, letting the peppery scent that lingered on it take her back to the moment Corisande had held her close, her head against their chest as they spun. 

She shook her head clear of the memory, slipping the jacket off and hanging it over the back of a chair. Though she had planned to do some work, it seemed it would be a largely useless endeavor with the way her thoughts kept drifting toward Corisande.

Instead she readied herself for bed, and fell asleep to thoughts of Corisande’s hand in hers, and the sweet sound of their laugh. 

[rex-meshla]

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