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masterjedilenawrites · 3 months ago

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What Happened Last Night

Fives wakes up on New Year's Day with no recollection of the night before. Shenanigans ensue as he goes on a quest to piece together what exactly he and his brothers got up to on New Year's Eve.

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Part One - 9:00 AM

Fives x fem!S/O | 3.6k words

Content: drinking, drunkenness, hangovers and related symptoms, memory loss, sexual references, cursing

Note: This is another classic case of starting out with a short one shot and ending up with the first part of a who-knows-how-long series. 🤦‍♀️ I just really liked the idea of Fives and co. getting caught up in a Hangover plot okay.

Fives opened his eyes and was immediately met with sunlight. Gorgeous rays were streaming through tilted blinds into the bedroom, warming up the spots it touched just enough to almost forget it was the dead of winter. But Fives wasn't able to appreciate any of the beauty or warmth of the morning. It was New Year's Day, and he was unfortunately, regrettably, painfully... hungover.

He scrunched his eyes back shut and groaned. His head was throbbing and he felt like he was spinning even though he could also feel a solid mattress beneath him. Gods, he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten this drunk. In fact, he couldn't really remember anything. He brought a hand up to massage his forehead, as if that might jog some memories loose. Nope. The entire night was a blank.

He had gone to a party. That much he knew. In a stroke of good fate, their shore leave happened to fall during Coruscant's New Year and Rex had been in good enough spirits to allow most of the unit to go out and celebrate. He vaguely remembered getting ready for it. Slicking back his hair, putting on his one nice coat. Blindly, he patted his hands across his chest and only felt the cotton of his T-shirt. He didn't remember taking off his coat. He didn't remember the party. Who was there, what it looked like, how in the hell he got from there to... wait, where was he?

He rolled over a bit, away from that blinding light. The movement made him nauseous so he took a moment to compose himself before cracking open an eye to peek at his surroundings. He was in a bed, in a tangle of white sheets, a large pink duvet bunched up on the floor. The rest of the room was similarly decorated, pink and white. Very soft. Very feminine.

Oh. He made himself sit up, careful to not trigger any dizzy spells, and rubbed at his eyes to better see through the sudden light. No one else was in the room, though there were sounds of a shower turning off through a cracked door just to his left. He hadn't even noticed before. His mind felt like it was in a haze, and the more he tried to recall any of the events that led him here, the fiercer his headache became.

There were worse places to wake up, he tried to comfort himself. He went home with a girl, likely someone he met at the party. Nothing out of the ordinary there. But it was maddening to not remember. Had he really drank that much? He could have said things, done something stupid, made a mess without realizing. He hated the feeling of not knowing.

The bathroom door cracked open. Fives braced himself for the emerging figure, trying to come across as nonchalant when in reality he was on edge, ready to spring into action, and also desperately trying to hold down either a burp or the contents of his stomach. He wasn't sure which would come out if he opened his mouth, and he wasn't about to find out in front of whoever he'd spent the night with.

But it turned out his anxiety was unwarranted, as the person who emerged from the steam of the bathroom was simply one of his brothers, Hardcase.

"Oh good, it's just you." The lump in his throat settled and Fives let out a relieved breath.

Hardcase's bottom half was wrapped in a towel and a toothbrush was sticking out of his mouth. He gave Fives a lazy salute as he padded across the room and started opening drawers.

"Wait..." Fives's hungover brain was just starting to come to its senses. "It's you. What are you doing here?"

Hardcase shoved a drawer shut and pulled open another with a shrug. "Dunno," he mumbled around the toothbrush.

"And where even is here?"

"Dunno."

Fives started scooting himself out of the bed, vaguely aware that his own bottom half was only clothed in briefs. He rubbed at his temple and looked around again at the unfamiliar place. How did he end up in this strange bedroom with Hardcase of all people? Nothing was making sense.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Fives now stood, looking more steady than he felt, and frowned as his brother continued rummaging.

Hardcase held up a finger. He took out the toothbrush, threw his head back and gargled whatever was in his mouth, then swallowed and looked back at Fives with his classic crazed grin. "Massive hangover, man. Can't remember a thing."

Fives could only shake his head and mumble, "that was disgusting." His own head was throbbing, so thinking through Hardcase's words wasn't coming easily.

"Ah!" Hardcase had opened one of the bureau's bottom drawers and seemed to find what he was looking for. A pair of baggy sweatpants. Though they were in a rather feminine cream color and hugged very tightly to Hardcase's thighs. And through the pale fabric in the front... well, it was obvious he was "going commando." Fives sighed.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Hardcase bent back over the drawer and fished out what looked like small black leggings. He held them up in front of Fives and pulled at the waist.

"These might fit if you stretch them a bit."

Fives swatted them out of his hands. "Where are we?" he demanded.

Hardcase remained unfazed. "I told you, I don't know."

"Then whose pants are these? And that toothbrush?"

Hardcase looked at the toothbrush as if he just realized he was holding it. He turned it in his hand a few times, inspecting, and then shrugged. "Dunno."

Fives threw his head back incredulously. "Oh my god, then why are you using it?"

Hardcase was already walking away, clearly bored with the exchange already, despite only making Fives even more confused than he was a mere minute previously. "We're in a lady's house. I can't be having morning breath around a lady."

He shook his head as if it was the most obvious thing. He opened another door, out into what seemed to be the main area of the home. Fives did one last look about, mainly to see if his pants or coat were laying around anywhere, but the only clothing in sight was the pair of leggings left on the floor. Fives glowered at them and then went after Hardcase.

"And where exactly is this lady?" he asked, emerging into the next room. It was somehow brighter than the bedroom. Fives paused in the doorway to adjust, cursing himself the whole time. Never again would he have another drink. Ever.

When it no longer hurt to keep his eyes open, Fives moved deeper into the room. It was a nice, open living area, sort of like a loft. Sofas and chairs were arranged around a rug in the middle. Large windows were along the closest wall, overlooking the city. Fives relaxed just a little. He was still in the city; there was one concern crossed off.

Across the living area, the wood floor raised up a step and into a kitchen with a long island counter. The whole place was very tastefully decorated, and apart from random objects strewn all about the floors, indicating some sort of activities occurred the night before, it was relatively clean and neat. Fives stepped over an empty liquor bottle and a shoe, and intended to join Hardcase in the kitchen before something stirred on one of the couches and caught his attention.

"Is that... Tup?"

His poor brother was sprawled belly down on the couch with an arm and leg dangling off, hair tangled across his face, and a bright red gown draped sideways over his bum, which Fives could only hope wasn't bare. Tup shifted his arm to cushion it under his head and continued to sleep.

Hardcase barked out a laugh as he opened the fridge. "Yeah. Little dude's gonna freak when he wakes."

Fives sighed. "Let me do the talking. Ease him into it. I can't handle panic right now."

He saddled up to the counter, resting bare arms against the cool marble. "You haven't seen her? Whoever lives here?" he tried asking again.

Hardcase emerged from the fridge with a carton of eggs and some orange juice. "No. I woke up and it was just us. Maybe she went to get coffee."

"Maybe we broke in. Who leaves a bunch of strange men alone in their home?"

"Nah. Probably met her at that party. Came back to her place, showed her a good time. Don't know why you came along, though," Hardcase frowned at the thought. "I mean, Tup was obviously all alone and just needed a place to crash. But you couldn't land anybody?"

Fives's face screwed up in offense. "Uh, why is that assumption? Maybe she brought me back and you were the third wheel?"

Hardcase only shot him a look before chugging back the orange juice. Straight out of the carton.

"I was in her bed..." Fives offered more evidence. He wasn't sure why it mattered to him so much.

Hardcase finished the OJ and let out a burp. "I woke up on the floor next to her bra."

There was groaning and rustling from behind. Fives peered over his shoulder and saw Tup starting to sit himself up on the sofa.

"Or hey, maybe it was Tup," Hardcase said with a laugh. "He's snuggling with the girl's dress."

Fives pushed off the counter and went over to his other brother. He sat on the edge of the wooden coffee table as Tup leaned back into the sofa, groggy and surrounded by the tule of the red dress. He didn't seem to notice, blinking blearily through messy strands of hair as he came to.

"Heyyy Tup," Fives cooed softly. "How're you feeling, buddy?"

"What did you do to me?" Tup whispered, his voice all gravely.

"Aw, come on, you had a great time last night. Don't you remember?"

Tup rubbed at one of his eyes. He looked so grumpy. "No. I don't remember anything."

Fives patted his knee. "Ah, you'll come around soon enough. Don't you worry."

A loud clanking came from the kitchen, and then the sounds of sizzling. Fives whipped his head around to glare at Hardcase.

"Making yourself right at home, aren't you?" he barked at him.

"What? I'm hungry! She's taking too long to get back."

"She?" Tup spoke. The commotion seemed to have jarred Tup from his stupor. His previously groggy eyes started to focus, first narrowing in on the sight of a shirtless Hardcase frying eggs, and then darting about the strange room.

"What... Where..."

"Hey, it's okay, don't worry," Fives hastily tried to get Tup's attention back. "You know Hardcase. He's just being an ass."

"I heard that!" Hardcase sang.

Fives pretended not to hear him. "Don't worry about it."

Tup's eyes locked in on Fives's with a scowl. "Why do you keep saying that? What shouldn't I worry about? What's going on?"

Tup scooted himself forward to stand and noticed the dress he was wrapped up in. Confused and maybe a bit horrified, he wrestled with the fabric trying to push it off.

"Hey, hey," Fives got up but Tup's flailing movements made it hard for him to help. Eventually his brother got himself untangled from the thing and he stood in a puddle of the fabric looking like a wild animal. The one bright side was that Fives could now see he did, thankfully, have underwear on.

Tup's panting suddenly quieted. He brought a hand to his mouth. "I'm gonna be sick," he mumbled.

Hardcase pointed to the corner opposite the bedroom door. "There's a bathroom over here!"

Tup made a run for it, impressively hopping over the various clothes, beer bottles, and other items all along the way. Fives recognized his pair of pants among them and happily scooped them up. His coat, however, was still MIA. He could never have nice things, could he.

"Egg?" asked Hardcase when Fives joined him again in the kitchen. He'd fried the entire carton and had already eaten half.

Fives ignored him and walked up to the fridge. A calendar was pinned to one side, though nothing to indicate the owner had any plans scheduled on this New Year's Day. On the other side hung several photos, different groups of girls at various events. Fives studied them for a moment until he picked out the one who was in all of them. Seeing her smiling face gave him an odd sense of déjà vu, but still no real memories.

"That's her!" Hardcase suddenly exclaimed by his ear. The clone tapped his finger by a girl with red curly hair.

"I'm pretty sure it's this one..." Fives tried saying but Hardcase was shaking his head.

"No, I remember the color red. It has to be her."

"You sure you aren't thinking of that red dress over there?"

Hardcase was still shaking his head, his eyes looking elsewhere as he tried in vain to remember more. Fives briefly wondered how it was possible all three of them could have such a hard time recalling the events of the night, and then Tup emerged from the bathroom.

He was looking a little better. Color had returned to his skin and he'd pulled his hair back into a ponytail so his full face was bare. Fives and Hardcase choked at the same time. Just underneath his right eye was a small tattoo in the shape of a teardrop, just like the design on his helmet. The skin around it was still red.

"What?" Tup questioned their reaction.

Fives exchanged a look with Hardcase before answering. "You uh... didn't look at yourself in the mirror in there?"

And just like that the color drained from Tup's face once more. "There was no mirror. Why?"

Fives tried to play it off. "No reason. Don't worry about it."

Tup frantically looked about the room and found a mirror hanging above a shoe rack in the front entryway. He rushed over and yelped.

"No no no no no," he whined over and over, rubbing at the tattoo to try to make it go away.

Hardcase started snickering and Fives elbowed him.

"What? Oh come on, that shit is funny."

Fives looked back over at Tup as he continued to bemoan his reflection in nothing but his underwear. He'd never wanted to get tattoos like the rest of them. One of his old batch mates had painted the teardrop on his helmet as a joke, calling him a crybaby. Now he'd forever carry that symbol, right there on the bag beneath his eye. Fives's lips couldn't help but twitch, and soon he was chuckling too.

"This isn't funny!" Tup moaned back at them. "You two are the worst."

"Don't look at me." Hardcase held his hands up. "I didn't make you do that. I don't think."

"What do you mean you don't think?" Tup finally turned away from the mirror and leveled a hard look at him.

Fives stepped in. "Look, we're having a hard time remembering things, too, okay. It's been a rough morning."

"You don't remember. Oh that's convenient." Tup let out an incredulous huff.

"It's true," nodded Hardcase. "We must've had some night to get this hungover."

"Hungover? Are you sure we weren't drugged? This is insane."

With that, Tup went back to fretting in the mirror. Fives sighed and rubbed his temples. His headache was still there, not as sharp and painful, but nonetheless an annoying backdrop to everything else he had to deal with. He tried not to focus on it, or on the sickly smell of fried eggs that still hung in the air.

He was just starting to think they should clean up the place and then leave, get back to base before Rex could get too angry, when the front door by Tup opened. He froze in surprise at the woman who entered.

"Hi there," she said with a smirk. Tup only stared back in response, his hand still hovering by his tattoo. She motioned toward it. "You're really irritating it. I have some balm you can use to calm it down."

Fives and Hardcase inched forward. It was the girl from the photo, the one Fives had noticed. Seeing her in person, hearing her voice, brought back a few fuzzy memories. A dance floor. Champagne glasses. Laughter ringing out across empty streets.

She made eye contact with him - him, he noted, not Hardcase - and stepped into the living room.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey... you," he replied, trying to give off an easygoing smile.

She was clearly amused by his response, but then her eyes slipped over to Hardcase and she frowned.

"Are those my sweatpants?" Her eyes flicked downward and back up real quick. "And no underwear?"

Hardcase wiggled his eyebrows.

"Ugh. They're yours now."

Fives noticed she had a coat folded across her arms. His coat. Thank the gods it hadn't been lost.

"Is that...?" he pointed to it.

"Oh, yeah, I told you I'd get it cleaned for you."

She gently untucked her arm and held it out for him. He must have shown some of his confusion as she then smirked again. "I knocked your wine onto your sleeve?"

He shook his head, not remembering.

"So you weren't out getting coffee," Hardcase grumbled beside him.

"First cupboard on the left," the girl pointed into the kitchen.

Fives looked down at his coat almost reverently. It was the first time it'd been cleaned since he'd gotten it. It felt soft, like new. He looked back up at her and swallowed the weird lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.

"Thank you..." his voice trailed off, still unable to place her name. She laughed.

"It'll come to you."

"Um, excuse me," Tup shuffled over, awkwardly hugging his arms across his bare chest. When the girl turned to him, he shrunk back a step. Whatever distress he felt over his tattoo was now overridden by bashfulness.

"Have you seen my clothes? I think these are Hardcase's." He kicked at a pile on the floor; the rest of the clothes strewn about were dresses and high heels.

"Maybe check behind the couch over there?"

"So..." Fives took the opportunity to try to get some information. "What exactly happened? I hope we weren't too destructive."

The girl smirked. "Strip poker."

Fives dramatically looked around to indicate the wide extent of the mess.

She shrugged. "There was also dancing somehow? I don't know. Everything ended up everywhere. You all were very drunk."

"All?" Hardcase chimed in as he finally got a pot of coffee to start brewing. "Were there others? A redhead?"

"That was my friend Suzy," the girl nodded.

"Suzy..." Hardcase sighed dreamily.

"You weren't drunk?" Tup asked. He pulled on a shirt and was finally clothed; he felt a lot better, so long as he didn't think about that tattoo.

"Can't drink. Medication. But boy did I have fun watching you guys get after it." She chuckled at the thought. Fives was envious of her memories.

"Where'd the other one of you end up?" she asked, stooping to pick up a few beer bottles. Fives jumped into action and starting picking up some items, too. He inwardly chastised himself for not thinking to help tidy sooner.

"The other one?" asked Tup. He, too, started helping, though tactfully avoiding that red dress.

"Yeah. He had a face tattoo, too. Like a V or an arrow?"

Fives and Tup froze and Hardcase came up with a mug of coffee cupped in his hands.

"Dogma?" they all exclaimed in unison.

"Yeah," said the girl, oblivious to how incredulous they were as she continued to clean. Dogma would've been the last person they'd have guessed to even show up at a party, let alone get mixed up in whatever night they all had.

The girl picked up the pile of Hardcase's clothes and a comlink dropped out of them. Hardcase quickly sat down his coffee to pick it up.

"Kriffing battery's almost dead," he mumbled as he inspected it. A blinking light indicated there was a message waiting. He looked to Fives, unsure if it was worth playing out what little life the battery had.

"Might as well," Fives said.

As soon as Hardcase hit the playback button, the voice of a very irritated Captain Rex rang out into the apartment.

General Skywalker's pushed up our deployment time. I don't know where the hell you boys went off to, but the four of you had better be on this tarmac by takeoff at noon. Oh, and you'd better have my helmet, too, or I'm shipping you back to Kamino where you can serve the rest of your careers cleaning freshers for the shinies.

The message cut out, leaving the three clone men feeling exactly the same: anxious and full of dread.

Hardcase looked sheepishly at the girl, who seemed torn between being amused and worried. "There wouldn't happen to be a helmet around here, would there?"

She shook her head and his shoulders fell.

"Okay, let's not worry," Fives said quickly, even though he knew the word would only annoy Tup. "We have a couple hours. We can find Dogma and Rex's helmet before then."

"How?" Tup sighed. "I can't even remember getting ink stabbed into my face."

"You'll help us, right?" Fives questioned their host hopefully.

She shrugged. "I have the day off, so sure, why not."

"Great. So we have..."

"Faith."

Fives blinked a few times before realizing she'd given him her name. It made him really happy for some reason, to finally know it. She was uncharacteristically beautiful, the kind that didn't grab people's attention but instead revealed itself slowly, the more you got to know her. He smiled softly back at her.

"We have Faith. And we have some time. And Hardcase has his coffee. Let's do this."

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter,

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#star wars #the clone wars #fives #hardcase #tup #fives x reader #fives x so #new year #hangover #memory loss #january fics

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

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Hangover 7

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.

Please leave any and all feedback! 💚💚💚💚💚💚

Part of The Club AU

You’re in a shell. Pain, disbelief, dread. The cruiser bumps over a pothole and you groan from the backseat. Storm snickers as he revs the engine then slams the brakes. You roll and throw your arm out to keep yourself from slipping onto the floor.

“How ya doin’ back there?” He taunts. “You break a hip, old lady?”

“Please,” you hiss through your teeth. “I didn’t-- what did I do to you?”

You lean back against the leather and shudder. The wheels spin again and he swerves around a corner. Your muscles rack as you hug yourself and shiver.

“That’s the thing about women. They can’t mind their own goddamn business. Can’t stay where they belong,” he snarls.

“I...” you blink and shake your head. Is that it? You embarrassed him by checking on him? By noticing him? He’s the one who walked into the diner in a half-stupour.

“What happened to the husband, huh? You sneak around behind his back? Or maybe you stopped opening your legs so he had to find someone who would?” He mocks.

You groan and brace your hip. You don’t care what he thinks. In that moment, you can only grit through the agony.

“Officer,” you plead in a wisp.

“I’m tired of hearing you. One more word and I pull over.”

You suck in a deep breath and wince. You believe him. His tone is deadly. You close your eyes and sink into yourself. It’s more than you. You caught him on a bad day. The wrong day.

Piecing together his words, it must be a woman. A break-up of some sort. The bitterness is telling. You’ve dealt with this kind before, it’s just be a while. Turns out, some things don’t change.

The car lurches to a stop and you whimper. He shifts into park and kills the engine. He lingers in the driver’s seat and thumps his fist on the steering wheel several times. It’s like he hasn’t quite decided what he’s doing.

He gets out and the axle shifts with the sudden dearth of weight. He pops open the back door and grabs your ankles. He drags you down the seat as you reach to grab onto anything that might save you. There’s no handles on the doors as they only lock from the outside.

He gets you to the edge of the seat and hauls you up by your elbows. He lifts you over his shoulder and you exclaim as it sends a pang through your hips. You’re helpless to his whims as all your strength is consumed fighting your own body.

He carries you up your own front steps. You’re less than reassured to be home. He digs around in your purse, dangling from his elbow, and unlocks your door. He takes you inside and treads past the mat in his scuffed and dirty boots.

He climbs the stares in a jarring pace. You know its intentional as each step makes you whine. He continues down the hallway, opening a closet, then the bathroom, before finding your bedroom. Without a care, he flips you onto the bed. You land with a shattered cry. Even the mattress is like laying on stone.

He looms over you, hands on his hips, slow, deep breaths as he considers you. You push yourself up on your elbows shakily. “Please, officer, I’m sorry--”

“Stop calling me that,” he unhooks his radio from his belt and stomps to your dresser. “Honey. Like at the diner.”

You gulp, “please... honey, I’m... I’m sorry that I--”

“Shhhh,” he hushes you as he unstraps his holster and checks his gun. He puts it down then unzips his coat.

He faces you, prowling closer as he peels off his coat. He throws it across the cushioned stool against the wall. He unbuttons his shirt, deliberate as his icy eyes pinpoint on you. You tremble and fall flat.

“You just gotta stay on your back. You been married, I’m sure you can handle that,” he snickers.

He strips off his shirt and flings it to the floor. He lifts his ribbed undershirt over his head and reveals his muscled torso, dark hair across his chest and down his stomach. He flexes in a silent threat and cracks his knuckles.

He unbuckles his belt as he steps closer to the bed. He opens his fly and climbs up onto his knees. He pulls your legs apart and drapes them over his as he kneels before you. He grips your hips and squeezes until you cry out.

He pushes your skirt high up your legs. He drags his hands under your ass and rumples it around your waist. He trails back down and pinches your thighs so they twitch. He snarls and smacks your left leg meanly.

“Officer Storm--”

“I’m tired of fucking repeating myself,” he growls.

“Honey,” you reach for his wrist and he swats you away.

“Don’t fucking move or I’ll break your spine,” grabs two of your fingers and bends them back until you whimper.

He lets go as you recoil, hands clasped over your chest. You puff out weakly as he traces along the seam of your nylons. He pokes beside it until your tights split and he wiggles against your panties. He dips his finger around the fabric, scratching you as he feels along your folds.

You gulp and your eyes sting with tears. This can’t be happening. Why is he doing this?

He grabs your wrist and wrenches your arm away from your chest. Your other falls limp and you push yourself into the mattress. He tugs at the top of your dress until the buttons give. He covers one side of your bra with his hand and kneads as he jams a finger into you.

You squeal and spasm, whining as another tide of pain flows through you. He forces himself in to his knuckles, the fabric pinching you as it tautens around his intrusion. He fondles you as he pulls in and out, searching you with the length of his finger.

“How long has it been, huh?” He shoves another finger into you so you whine. “Bet it feels like the first time.”

“Honey, please,” you beg as you show your palms. “Please don't hurt me.”

He laughs as rams his hand against you. “That’s up to you, baby. Better get wet and better do it fucking fast.”

#johnny storm #dark johnny storm #dark!johnny storm #johnny storm x reader #series #hangover #drabble #the club #fantastic four #marvel #au

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