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badkitty3000 · 2 months

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Weak

Even Five Hargreeves is no stranger to temptation. He tries so hard to stay away. He wants to do the right thing for once in his life. If not for himself, then for her. But every man has his breaking point.

Five Hargreeves x Reader Smut

This one shot is an accompaniment to my other work "Addicted". This can be read on its own, but is a different side of the story, as told from Five's point of view.

As always, I am open to requests. Thank you!

My Master List Of Number Five Fanfiction

Weak:

I never meant to take it this far. I never meant to be cruel. That’s not who I am, or at least I didn’t think I was. I also thought I was strong and had will power. But I guess I was wrong about that, too. Because as much as I try to stay away, I don’t.

I know who I am and what I’m made of. The terrible things I’ve done. That’s not a secret and I’ve never lied to myself about that. My morals can’t even be called a gray area anymore; they’re more like an indistinct blur. But in this one tiny part of my soul, I was trying to be better. For her, at least.

I have failed miserably.

She knows what I am. When things got too comfortable and too familiar, I told her as a way to push her away and to scare her. It didn’t work, though. In fact, it had the opposite effect. She fucking loved it…and I didn’t know how to say no to that.

How could I say no when she was tearing at my clothes, practically panting with desire, and shoving her hand down my pants? All over a bloody stain on a shirt collar and the feel of my Glock against her skin. I’m sure there’s a way to resist that, but fuck if I know what it is. I’m not smart enough or strong enough to figure that one out.

I don’t particularly like all of the killing. But I’m pretty fucking good at it and someone has to do it, I suppose. I certainly never considered it sexy in any way. Then, after that first time, when she begged me to tell her all of the gruesome details, and I watched her skin start to flush and her pupils dilate…well, fuck, that put a new spin on everything.

I still don’t like it, that part hasn’t changed. I get no pleasure from pulling that trigger and watching their skull break open like a fucking pinata, spraying the contents of their brains all over the floor like the world’s worst party game. Now, however, there is a sick little spark that will ignite in me after it’s done. Because I know how it will turn her on.

And, fuck, I am weak.

That’s what this all boils down to. Weakness. For most people that meet me or know me in any way, weak is probably the last word they would use to describe me. Cold; bitter; sarcastic; asshole. Those adjectives are much more likely to be used. But weak? Doubtful.

I know the truth, though. Deep down, that is what I am. Because when you continue to break someone’s heart time and time again, just because you can’t control your own basic urges…that’s weakness. Pure and simple.

She has told me how much I’ve hurt her, and how much I am ruining her life. She has screamed and cried and told me all of the things I know I deserve to hear. She has called me an asshole more times than I can remember, and I have never disputed it. So, I stay away, like I know I should. Until she inevitably calls again. And I slip right back into it without another thought. Like the absolute fucking bastard that I am.

Weak.

Because even though I know it’s wrong and I’m slowly poisoning her with my selfishness, each time I think maybe it will be different. Maybe this time will be the time when I stay. When I will finally be the person I should be and really want to be.

All the way up until the early morning, I will convince myself that this is it. I’ve finally seen the light and I can be the man she deserves; it will be so easy. Because when it’s just the two of us, in our own little cocoon, hidden away from the outside world, the idea is magical. I would give anything to stay there, tucked away, fucking like animals until we’re both too exhausted to talk anymore. I want to stay there and listen to her voice, and her laugh, and feel her hands on my touch-starved body. And I think, yes, this is it. This is what I want.

Then morning comes and the spell is broken.

Once that first peek of dawn starts to light up the sky, all of my anxieties come rushing back, and I remember why I can’t stay. Morning brings back the real world, and with it all of its problems.

I will freeze up, practically paralyzed with fear, as she sleeps next to me, an arm draped over my chest. I will remember what kind of person I really am, and how that just doesn’t translate to boyfriend material. And it’s not just the little fact that I am a hired assassin, although that does put a slight snag in any future meetings with parents and the like.

It’s the mixing bowl of fucked up thoughts and feelings and history that lives inside my brain. Guilt. Regret. Sadness. Rage. Take your pick, none of them are great. And I can mask them for a night or two, while I’m pretending to be someone I’m not. But they will come back again, and that’s just not something anyone needs. Especially someone you care about.

So, I do the worst, shittiest thing in the world, and leave while she’s asleep. No kiss goodbye. No note. Not even a quick morning fuck. I grab my shit and leave in a flash of blue light, like the weak coward I am. Can’t even bother to use the god damn door.

I will stay away after that. At least for a while. I will ignore the incoming texts and voice mails that sometimes will follow, and sometimes don’t. I’ll pretend I don’t care about the lectures and pleas and rightly-deserved insults. But I do care. And that’s why I won’t answer.

A month might go past, maybe more. Just enough time for me to start thinking she really is done with me. Then the call will come through, late at night, and I won’t ignore it. Because, as we’ve determined…I am weak.

She is the only one, although I’ve never told her that and I bet she thinks she’s not. I’m not interested in anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. And when she stops calling for good, which one day I know will happen, that will be it. It’s either her or nobody. And it’s barely even her.

Our paths almost never cross outside of our little midnight meetings. After that first night when all of this started, I’ve never seen her anywhere else besides her apartment. I assume it’s because the types of bars and clubs I frequent are not anywhere a normal, sane person would want to spend their free evenings. But tonight, as fate would have it, I do see her. After I grab my drink off the cracked and peeling bar top and turn to look at the room behind me, I see her. And she’s not alone.

With my glass half way to my mouth, our eyes meet, and for a second neither of us move. It’s not a big place, so we aren’t that far away from one another. But it’s loud and crowded, and the guy is leaning in close to her ear, talking loudly to be heard over the constant bass thumping through the shitty speakers on the walls. Who the fuck is this guy?

It’s not fair, I know that. Believe me, I know that. And I try to give myself a stern talking-to inside my head. She is not yours. Not even remotely. You are an asshole and she deserves better. Leave her the fuck alone.

I take a drink. And then I see his hand disappear under the table, and I can see everything from where I’m standing. He’s squeezing her thigh, leaving his hand there to rest on her leg, rubbing his thumb across the bare skin that isn’t covered by her short skirt. A skirt I know I’ve had my face under before.

Fuck. I hate this guy.

In the thirty seconds that it takes for all of this to happen, she is watching me. Reading me. A faint smile plays on her lips and I know I’m caught. My thoughts must be written all over my face like a fucking billboard, and it’s too late to pretend I haven’t seen or that I don’t care. She’s got me.

If I were stronger, or a better person, I would leave. Pay my tab, collect my coat, and get the fuck out of there without another glance in her direction. Leave her be. Let her live her fucking life. But I am not. And I’m pissed.

My first instinct is to reach behind me, grab the Glock that’s hidden in the waistband of my pants and covered up by my suit jacket, and take care of this asshole right then and there. That would probably be the nicer thing to do, honestly. Then she’d finally see what a fucking psycho I am and that would end things once and for all. But I’m also not that stupid. Or that nice.

Instead, I stay and watch. I let her see me watching, too. I lean with my back against the bar, casually sipping my drink, and my eyes never leave her. I want her to know, even if it makes me more of a giant dick than I already am. I want her to know I am not pleased.

I have no idea who this guy is, and I don’t care. Maybe it’s their first date; maybe it’s their tenth. It doesn’t matter, I want him dead. And now that she knows that, because it’s pretty fucking obvious by the way I’m coiled like a cobra ready to strike right now, it’s quickly become a game. If she had feelings for him before, that seems to have been forgotten now. Because everything she is doing is for me.

Her eyes leave mine and she returns to what I can only imagine is a very dull conversation with the Neanderthal sitting next to her. She smiles and laughs, and moves her leg closer to his so that they are touching. She reaches up and fixes his hair, tucking a stray piece of it over his ear. She rests her chin on her hand and stares at him like he’s the most interesting person she’s ever encountered. And he’s eating this shit up; kicking his game up a notch with even more inane talk and rubbing her thigh up and down with his whole hand. He thinks she’s into him. Fucking dumbass.

That’s the only thing keeping me slightly calm at the moment. Knowing it’s all a play. She is a really good actress, I’ll give her that, but I’ve paid more attention to her than she realizes. I know her tells. I know the difference between her fake laugh and her real one. I can tell when she’s actively engaged in the conversation or she is just waiting for you to shut up. I know how she touches her face when she’s nervous and I know what she looks like when she wants to fuck you.

And, buddy…I got bad news for you.

The corner of my mouth lifts in an arrogant smirk as I take another drink. I shouldn’t be proud of this; I should be appalled. How dare I think I have any right to any of her little traits and quirks? I haven’t earned that. That kind of thing is reserved for boyfriends and husbands and people that can stand to stick around for more than a few hours.

When she runs her tongue over her lips in an obvious gesture meant only for me, I actually laugh out loud. Fuck, she knows what she’s doing. And it’s one hundred percent working.

As I order my second drink, feeling the calming buzz of the booze fill my brain, I start to care less and less. I don’t care if this is not fair. I don’t care that I’m being a complete and utter shit head. I don’t care if I’m weak. I’ll deal with all of that later.

I take out my phone and type out a quick text.

Enjoying yourself?

I watch as she glances to her phone on the table as it lights up. She picks it up, angling it away from Caveman Cliff, and reads it. It’s subtle, but I saw it. A brief twitch of her mouth and a quick flit of her eyes in my direction. I see her type out a quick reply and then she is back to him, completely enrapt in his droning.

Immensely, thank you

Not able to resist, I counter with:

Even I can tell from way over here that your panties are as dry as the desert

She holds in a smile as she responds back.

Too bad you’re not going to find out

Honey, if that pussy of yours is even slightly wet, it’s only because you’re thinking of me bending you over that table you’re sitting at right now

I see her legs shift and she crosses one over the other, squeezing them together as a faint blush covers her cheeks.

And why would I be thinking that?

Because that dipshit you’re with isn’t going to give you what I know you want

I watch as she swallows and then glances at the idiot to her left that is oblivious to all of this, the poor bastard. Her response is short.

Fuck you

She puts her phone away to end this exchange, but I see the small smile she is trying to hide and the way she touches her hand to her face. I can see her chest expand as she sucks in a deep breath, biting at the inside of her cheek.

I give a short snort of satisfaction and put my phone back in my inside jacket pocket. I got what I wanted. I throw back the rest of my drink, leave a few dollars for a tip, and head for the door without another look in her direction. But I know she saw me leave.

As I wait there in the dark, I think about how awful I’m being; what a shit bag move this is. I’m using her, that’s what it boils down to. Using her for her warmth and her openness, and to temporarily calm my mind. Also, for her body and her touch. She sees something in me that isn’t there; or at least something I can’t see. But I can’t or won’t give her what she needs, and I’m also not letting her move on.

Fuck, I’m an asshole.

I hear their voices coming down the hall, the rattle of keys in her hand. As they near the door, I can hear her made up excuses. She’s tired; she had too much to drink; she has a headache. Maybe next time. She’ll call him tomorrow. Then she slips inside her darkened apartment and the door closes behind her.

I’m on her before she has a chance to turn the light on, pressing her against the door as she drops her keys on the floor. Since I’ve been waiting, the anticipation has already made me fully hard and I push my groin into her while I circle my hand lightly around her neck.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? No love connection tonight?” I growl next to her ear.

She never even screams or fights back. She knew I would be there. But her hands grab my forearm and I hear her suck in a loud breath.

“I never knew you were the jealous type,” she smarts back.

“Only when I see someone try to take what’s mine,” I hiss hotly against her neck, drawing my lips and then my tongue across her skin.

“I’m not your fucking property,” she snarls, but I can hear the break in her voice and she swallows hard against my hand.

I laugh cynically. “Well, then I can go and you can let him fuck you instead. Is that what you want?”

There’s a long pause and it’s just our loud breathing in the dark of the room. Then I feel her head move slowly from side to side.

“No,” she whispers.

As I crash my mouth onto hers, my hands in her hair and on her face, and down to her tits, she is reaching for the front of my pants. I had already removed my jacket and belt when I got there, as well as the pistol that I always carry with me. Our little act back at the bar was already enough foreplay and our bodies are screaming for each other.

Our hands can’t work fast enough as she is shoving my pants down my legs and tearing my shirt open while I rip her top off and yank her skirt up. My fingers are already pushing her panties to the side and entering her, sliding right in with no resistance.

I smile proudly against her neck. “I knew you were wet for me.”

As she moans and throws her head back, she is reaching down to stroke my cock, her warm hand tight and firm as she drags it slowly over my shaft.

My hips are already jerking into her and I want to be inside of her so badly I can’t think straight.

“Get these panties off so I can fuck you,” I snarl.

I pull my fingers out, pushing her underwear down roughly and she quickly steps out of them. With one pull of her hips into me, her arms clutching tightly to my shoulders, I lift her up and start fucking her against the door.

I tip my head back and groan loudly as she whines and pulls her legs tighter around my waist.

“Can he make you feel this good?” I ask between clenched teeth as I ram into her harder and the door rattles in its frame.

“No!” she cries out.

“Do you think about him when you’re alone and fingering yourself?”

Her moans are punctuated by the slamming of my body against hers and her fingers press deeper into my skin.

“No,” she breathes out. “No.”

“You think about me, don’t you?” I say with a sneer. When she doesn’t answer fast enough, I ask again, louder. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whimpers pitifully, her nails digging sharply into my shoulder blades.

I can’t believe what I’m saying and what I’m doing. But she’s loving it and so I continue.

“I’m going to fuck you until you forget all about him, and then I’m going to fuck you some more. And if I ever see you with him again, I will kill him.”

“You wanted to kill him, didn’t you?” she asks, and that knowing smile starts to form as she closes her eyes and bites her lip. “When you saw him with me?”

“Fuck yes I did,” I groan loudly into her neck.

She’s almost there, I can tell. So am I, but I’m going to make her finish first. I pick up the pace, thrusting into her as hard as I can, her back and head slamming against the door, my fingers digging deeper into the flesh of her thighs and ass. I’m practically ripping into the side of her neck, latching on with my mouth and teeth, desperate to mark her as my own.

I listen as she repeats my name over and over in gasps and moans and I can’t hold back anymore.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You are all mine.”

She is falling apart in my arms, violently shaking against me as I penetrate her one last time, letting out a loud, guttural moan. I’m as deep inside of her as I can be, and I fill her up with so much cum, I know it will start sliding out; dripping down her legs and onto the floor. Somewhere deep inside, in the primordial part of my brain, I take satisfaction in knowing that it’s my seed, and only mine, that is coating her insides.

Once the last spasm has left my body, I let her down and she falls back against the door, breathing hard. Her bra is still on, but the straps have fallen down, and her skirt is bunched up around her waist. I look at the painful looking purple bruise I left on her neck, which is large enough and obvious enough that she won’t be able to cover it. Her eye makeup is smeared and her lips are swollen and red. She looks completely ravished. And then she starts to cry.

It’s because of me, I know it is. Because of the things I said and the things I did, and the way I needed her so desperately. She had been trying to break away from me and I reeled her back in. And I did it knowingly and deliberately, just to feed my ego and maybe not feel so alone. I could have found anyone for that. But, like the prick I am, I only wanted her.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, my lungs still working hard to get air in and out.

She just nods silently, wiping her face with her hand, and pulls down her skirt. She picks her shirt and underwear off the floor and heads to the bathroom without a word. I’m left standing there with a softening dick and my pants around my ankles.

Fuck.

I could leave now, while she’s in there, and maybe I should. That feels wrong, though. But then again, so does staying. I feel like shit and I’m so full of shame that I want to punch my fist through the wall. Instead, I zip my pants back up and walk over to her couch to wait. I turn on the table lamp and even though it’s dim, it feels blaringly bright and I have to squint my eyes.

When she comes out, she has changed into some soft shorts and a t-shirt. Her face is cleaned up and I assume her thighs and the area between them are too. She is no longer crying, but I can still see the tell-tale signs of red-rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks. I’m surprised when she comes and sits down next to me, laying her head on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I say again, because I can’t think of anything better to say.

“I know. Me too,” she says and she leans her body against mine.

She has nothing to be sorry for and I’m not sure what to do, so I put my arm around her and hug her to me. I kiss her forehead and she closes her eyes. I don’t know why she’s letting me do this, but it feels good and I like it. Just like every other time, I tell myself that maybe this time will be different. I can do this; I can be that person. I don’t want to be that other jealous, callous, hurtful person. I don’t want to be the asshole.

“Just don’t go yet, ok?” she says quietly with her cheek resting against my chest.

I smooth her hair and run my hand down her back. I don’t want to go. She feels good and warm and soft against my tension-filled body. She feels right. I want to tell her all of that, too. I want to say I’m sorry a million times over and beg for her forgiveness. I want to wake up with her next to me every day.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” I murmur into her hair as I brush my chin across the top of her head.

“Don’t do that,” she pleads, her voice soft. “Please.”

I decide I’m going to tell her how I really feel. Before the night is over, I’ll come clean. And then I’ll stay. If she’ll still have me.

“You are, though. I mean it.”

She doesn’t respond, but sighs and nestles in, holding me around my waist. Fuck, I have craved this. More than the dirty talk and the biting and the ferocious fucking. I want this. I want her. And I’m going to tell her.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. It’s there, on the tip of my tongue the whole time. All I have to do is say it. But I don’t.

We fuck again, rough and hard, on the couch and on the floor. I leave more marks on her chest, branding her as my own. I tell her she’s mine, and I make her scream my name again, but I don’t say what I really mean.

We fuck in her bed, while we’re both tired and slightly drunk. I pump lazily into her while she lies underneath me and moans softly. I kiss her lips and tell her how gorgeous she is, and it’s not a lie because she is. I worship her body, running my tongue over every part of it, tasting her skin and her delicious arousal. I can taste my own cum as I lick into her soft folds and inside her pussy that’s been stretched and abused by my cock several times over.

There are so many opportunities and I don’t take any of them. I let her fold her body into mine as I hold her in the dark and I can say it right now. It would be easy and it would be the truth.

I want to be with you.

I want to be yours.

I want you to be mine and mine alone.

I want to stay.

But I am weak, and so I don’t.

She sleeps against me and I listen to her rhythmic breathing while I lie there wide awake. I think about all of the things I should have said. Everything I should have done and should not have done. I hate myself for all of it.

When the sun creeps in, and the faintest light is leaking through the curtains and cutting through the safety of the darkness, it all comes crashing back. I remember why I can’t stay and why those words just wouldn’t come out. The reality of the real world is glaringly obvious in the light of day and I remember all of it.

The real world is filled with everyday things like jobs and homes and bills to pay. Coworkers and families that want to meet you. Graduation and birthday parties. Movie and dinner dates, holidays and vacations. Marriage. Children. Normalcy.

There’s just no way any of that would work. I can’t fit into that life, even though I want to. I think of all of the things holding me back and they keep piling up until they are crushing me and I feel like I can’t breathe.

I am an assassin. A killer. A murderer. I have seen the end of the world and survived the most horrific things. I have PTSD and crippling anxiety. There are nightmares and paranoia and episodes of manic rage. I am old and I am tired. There is nothing left of me and nothing left to give. I am not meant for normalcy.

As I slowly remove her arm from across my chest, she stirs but she doesn’t wake. I take a moment to look at her. Her mind isn’t betraying her with vivid dreams of the world collapsing around her in a fiery blaze or sprays of bullets piercing her body. She is at peace and I am envious of that.

I am not good for her, I know that. I need to go and stay gone. She deserves stability and happiness and a million other things I cannot give her. So, I will be the asshole that leaves in the morning before she wakes, just like I always do. She will hate me and curse me and cry for me. And I will stay away this time. I have to.

I chance it by leaning in and brushing my lips across her forehead. Her face wrinkles up and then relaxes again, but she doesn’t wake. I slip out of the bed and out of the room, following the trail of discarded clothes and put them back on one by one. Then I am gone in the same flash of light that allowed me to enter there in the first place. A convenient exit that I have misused way too many times.

Outside, the sun is bright and the world is waking up. I can feel my resolve growing stronger as the new day builds. That was it, I am done. It was awful and I shouldn’t have done it, but it’s over now and I will not be repeating it. I am a pillar of inner strength. That was the last time and she is finally free of me. I am doing the right thing.

My strength is impressive, both inside and out. But it is not impenetrable, especially when darkness falls and the world around me grows quiet. When I am alone with nothing but my thoughts, and I just need to feel something good again.

Everyone has a weakness.

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rcksmith · 1 year

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Untouchable - Five Hargreeves

You can find the 2 request here: anonymous 1, anonymous 2.

Resume: The villain falls in love with the girl.

Trope: “ Who did this to you?” “Touch her and you are dead.” “i´ll find you in every lifetime”

Couple: Five Hargreeves /Fem!Reader.

Warnings: A LOT OF ANGST, swearing, mention of death, blood, fight between the Hargreeves and the Sparrows,a little enemies to lovers in the end, fluff, SMUT, degrading talk.

Word count: 15k.

A/N: Spoiler from season 3.

OMG THIS IS HUGE JAHHSHDAHSDJAHDHND it turned out bigger than i expected.

Because I have a lot of requests in my box, I compile orders that are similar and put together, but I took care to added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down.

We not tolerate any pedophilia here!! I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter, MHA and others fandoms.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are OPEN. Love you ❤️

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Honor comes from the Latin honoris. Indicating a person who lives with honesty and probity, basing their way of life on the dictates of morality. A principle that leads someone to have a righteous, virtuous conduct, which allows to enjoy a good reputation in society.

Five Hargreeves thought of himself as a callous man with no honor and, somehow, able to drown out the voice of morality in his head. He was very knowledgeable about literature and history, and his physics and math skills could surpass Tesla's, but philosophy for him was a bunch of weak principles and dictated by people who didn't really know the world, who didn't pass 1% of what he passed by, who did not see what he saw. Not even Socrates, Plato or Machiavelli had known the worst of humanity like him, the truth about realities. A big part of his existence came down to surviving, fighting, winning, crushing everything that threatened his life.

His cynical outlook on life led him to pragmatism, and he knows that if he wants something done, he will have to do it himself.

His actions were more about getting things done than about displaying a display of rebellion or power. However, Five was not afraid of pain or even killing. He didn't mind being the author of the worst massacres if it meant going back to his family.

Five Hargreeves don't give a damn about being the villain of the story. He did what had to be done.

It was why, when The Handle ordered him to carry out the death sentence of a Duke and Duchess in 1730, Five did not question or hesitate.

Even though in the back of his mind, in a very small part of his brain, the question arose as to why people from such an old and outdated date, he did nothing about it, much less pulled the thread from the ball of yarn that would trigger a series of questions in a row. His job was not to ask why, to investigate step by step, to go through file by file. Five wasn't on The Commission to know the reason for each death, he was on the execution.

So he went, letting the suitcase unfold before his eyes an ancient era, from a faraway time, introducing him to carriages, flowing dresses, gigantic balls. And, as much as some people considered that era poetic, Five never liked lack of practicality.

So he killed the couple as quickly as possible, determined to escape from the need to spend more hours in that old-fashioned place.

It was like any other murder he had committed over the years on The Commission; he came, killed, and left. No looking back, no questions, no hesitation. Drowning in the deepest wave any second feelings that might have submerged, ensuring his emotions were chained very well at the bottom of the ocean.

It was easy, normal, routine. He was once again the villain, and could sleep very well the night with that.

But something began to change gradually in the atmosphere, in the air.

On some mornings, it was as if Five's hands were tingling for no apparent reason, eager to catch up something he had no idea what it was. On some afternoons, his heart vibrated in his chest, like a ground being punished by an earthquake, shaking his balanced state of mind. And, on some dawns, Five's mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert, thirsty for something that not even the coldest water could appease.

Wherever he was the air stayed suddenly thin, stuffy. And sometimes, in the middle of a mission, the wind seemed to blow in only one direction, hitting Hargreeves' back as if pushing him to go in a path. At those moments, his heart returned fluttered in his chest, as if he knew that one north was calling him and was that where he needed to go.

Everything inside Hargreeves began to be affected by strange reactions, spurred by banal, mundane events.

An in a few seconds, if Five stood completely still, silencing his thoughts and hollowing out any inner voices, he could hear something in the wind calling for him. Small seconds that swept away any balance that one day he ever had.

Five Hargreeves was going through a peripeteia, and he had no idea what was causing it.

What hell is going on?

It was wen, on an afternoon where the sun hid with shame among the dark gray clouds, The Handler gave him another murder.

In 1750.

His soul shuddered inside him in that second, echoing through his bones, keeping Five's egyptian green eyes fixed on the paper in his hands, unable to look away from the bold numbers that indicated the date of his next mission.

The icy breeze ruffled his dark hair, but he didn't move. There seemed to be something important and unspoken in the air, and this time, the voice calling his name on the wind grew softly louder. Now, it didn't seem to come from the back of his mind anymore, but from a place far away.

Five looked around, in an instinctive movement in the pathetic and vain attempt to find the source of that voice.

Nothing. As always.

“Five.” The Handler snapped her fingers in front of his face “May I have your precious attention?" The irony didn't go unnoticed, but his eyes flickered to hers. “As I was saying, the time and place of this mission is strictly important. Viscount Sebastian needs to be killed in his office at midnight, in the middle of his daughter's debut ball, not a minute less and nowhere else.”

Hargreeves gave a nod. Not because he had devoted all of his attention to her, just because he wanted her to stop talking. Much of his concentration was still on the way his body and the hemisphere around him behaved. Mission times and places were standard, no need to focus on this nonsense and listen to someone reiterate the rules as if Five were a child. He was 26 years old, a child was the last thing he was.

Something seemed to be happening, occult like a current that rattles under the sea. And the knowledge that he couldn't see the bottom of the ocean unnerved every cell in his body. Hargreeves couldn't stand things he couldn't perceive, understand how it works, take it apart and put it back together again.

This time, when Five returned to the eighteenth century, with 20 years having passed in that time after his visit and only 2 weeks for him, what hit him first was not the impracticality, the carriages, the big dresses. But the wind. Strong, cold, bringing with it the voice who called his name for weeks, now loud and clear.

The dark strands of his body prickled, and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat. Suddenly, anxiety snaked through his body like venom, stirring every fiber in his body, pumping something into his veins that made his blood heat like lava. An emotion he couldn't name what it was.

In the last mission, Five had a string of complaints about the way the black waistcoat squeezed the white linen shirt over his abdomen, and how heavy the straight-cut coat felt heavy under his shoulders. But in this time, he wasn't bothered with the clothes he had to wear so as not to attract attention and go unnoticed. Now, with his heart pounding in his chest, his throat dry and the constant feeling that he had to be somewhere urgently, his clothes were the last things on his mind.

It was an emotion that squeezed the pit of his stomach, made his hands itch and his body shot with an adrenaline that screamed that he needed to move. That he had a more important place to be. All the sensations he'd felt leisurely over the weeks now came back with absurd force, as if he were getting close to the source of it all.

What was happening?

The moon in that far away era shone sovereignly in the sky, blessing the houses, carriages and large mansions with cascades of distilled light in the purest color of silver.

Las time, the feeling that came over Five was to get out of there as quickly as possible. But now, looking around in search of the source of the voice calling him in the wind, the last thing on his mind was leaving.

His watch still read eight o'clock, but the sensation was like he was already late.

The most practical plan was to stay hidden somewhere near the mansion where the ball was being held. Avoiding crowds, witnesses, minimizing risk and being a shadow. As always did. The most rational thing to do was to stay away from that place at all costs, until the inevitable arrived and he was forced to enter through one of the windows.

He should have done it. But he didn't.

Just as a sailor follows a siren's song on the high seas, Five followed that voice on the wind. His brain screamed for him to seek a hiding place, but his soul rebelled with an absurd ferocity, ricocheting tremors through all his bones and ordering his legs to follow a path his conscious did not know. His whole mind was confused, but his soul carried a certainty that no other living being had ever had in they life.

With no other option, stunned by the sensations in his own body, he found himself walking towards the front door of the only place he was supposed to avoid until midnight.

If Five Hargreeves had to describe what was happening to his five senses, he would say that his vision was mildly blurred, as if were searching for focus. The smell was of climax and the ambient sounds were drowned out by his own heartbeat. It was like being there in flesh and blood, but not in soul.

He didn't focus on the details of the world around him, but he knew when he finished climbing the front steps. He couldn't focus on the conversation around him, but he knew that a few people were walking beside him.

His mind saw everything, but processed nothing.

It was a mistake not to be 100% aware of the environment, not to study each individual's body language, not to constantly calculate the odds of a move going wrong. But... it was as if something prevented him from emerging to the surface.

Five didn't respond when the butler greeted him at the entrance to the great hall, but looked around as the wind from outside hit his back and his name rang in his ears once more.

It was a female voice. Now he could tell.

Going deeper into the hall, the melody of the orchestra invaded his ears while thousands of people, talking, dancing and drinking, took his view. Everything resembled a blur on a painting, the sounds were still muffled as if Five were at the bottom of the sea, and the smell transitioned between flowers, feminine perfume and poetry.

Five Hargreeves was a pragmatic, cynical and austere man. Everything that made up his being was based on rationality, laws of physics and mathematical concepts, he wasn't oscillated by tender things and he certainly wasn't carried away by things of the heart or soul. He always followed what rationality dictated. Until now.

Until now.

Like a violin string that ruptured, Hargreeves was gripped by the feeling that something very important was about to happen. Something that would not only change his existence forever, but change him for eternity. This fact stared him at back, bold, warm and as inevitable as the setting sun. And very hair on his body stood on end at once while everything inside him pulsed with a brutality that could shake his bones.

Now, the sound of the orchestra was drowned out by the soundtrack of his life, which was coming closer to apex by the second. It was like being submerged in a slow-motion, in a moment that preceded an momentous event.

As magnets are pulled one by the other in an impassable way, his eyes, as if they already knew where to look, were drawn to a figure among the others who danced in the middle of the hall.

You.

Was like an explosion. Loud and brutal. He suddenly submerged from the bottom of the sea, bewildered, desperate, out of breath. The stupor released itself all at once, bringing his mind back to the reality. Instantaneously, nothing was blurred anymore, sounds weren't muffled, and he abruptly returned to his conscious state. But his soul was not so lucky. Like being whipped by live eels, his heart pounded in his chest with such fury that he leaned over forward millimeters, his throat was drier than the Egyptian desert and now his hands itched in a hellish, bestial, uncontrollable way.

Five Hargreeves has released himself from a wave of numbness only to be hit by a tsunami of sensation.

His eyes were seeing everything clearly now, but he couldn't take his attention away from the female figure dancing in the middle of the room, her bouffant gown swirling gracefully across the floor as if deities were blowing the fabrics.

There were a lot of people around him, in front of him, behind him, but Five Hargreeves only had eyes for you.

In an insane, magical and inexplicable logic, Five had the purest certainty that it was your voice that called him in the wind, that was by the desire to touch your skin that his hands itched. Five would never be able to explain it to other people, but at that moment, there was nothing more concrete on Earth, in physics and science, than the certainty that was because of you that his soul felt, so many times, that he should be somewhere else.

Like the indubitability that you need oxygen to breathe, touching your skin has become just as indispensable. It was a matter of needing, something that now not only itched his hands, but corroded the bones in his fingers.

There was no reason for all those absurd feelings, Five had never even seen you before. But rationality had no space in that moment.

There, in that rift between the past, future and parallel realities, there was no discernment, lucidity, judgment. It was a hideaway free of any cohesiveness, with the smell of romance, an atmosphere full of emotion, passion and poetry. A distant era that allowed, for the first time in many years, that the soul of Five Hargreeves to take control of his body.

He moved, one step after another, his focus petrified on you. With each centimeter closer to your body, the more he felt able to breathe again, relieving the brutal anxiety that had been beating him for weeks, giving a truce to the martyrdom that lacerate him day after day without even him even knowing why.

You had finished your dance, clapping along with the other guests for the orchestra that started the new melody, this time more lyrical.

Your hair, the tone of which seemed to be the personification of poetry, of art, was tied in a bun that allowed a few strands to fall under your neck, the skin of your bust was speckled with a few little droplets of sweat, the perfect amount to glisten under the yellowish light of the candles in the chandelier, making a divine, almost celestial aurora radiate from you. The dark blue gown referred back to the night sky in its greatest splendor, highlight your full breasts at the straight neckline and opening at the hips in a skirt that preached the illusion of you being floating across the hall. Your lips were a red that Five had never seen in his life. A red that seemed to exist only to serve you, enhancing the color of your eyes.

You were like a mirage. An oasis in the farthest desert. One of those paintings that people come from all over the world to see in person, capable of sweeping, taking they breath away, making they cry for having to live with the burden of never having the possibility of knowing you in life.

The romantic period was going on in that century, society was tired of trends in intellectual thinking, rationalization, industrialization and the veneration of science. People longed for an escape into emotionally charged images and fantastical fiction in the visual arts and literature. And Five Hargreeves was certain that you were one of the greatest inspirations of this movement. It was so clear that you were the influence of John Waterhouse's paintings, sweeping the hearts of artists and illuminating poets. Lord Byron was thinking of you when he created the short lyric poem “She Walks in Beauty”, completely fascinated by you.

That thought shuddered Five's soul even more. And an acidic emotion rose in his throat and burned his eyes. In his chest was injected the feeling that he was facing one of the greatest beauties in history, the person the poems and paintings were based on, the inspiration for so many names of literature and art that would become renowned.

There, in front of him, was more than a person. It was a piece of history, art, literature, a beauty that was immortalized and that would be admired even after centuries. Five had already gone to different times in the past, but nothing touched his soul as much as now. As much as you.

Five Hargreeves went in your direction like a sailor following a siren's song across the seven seas.

You were relatively distracted when he got to you. Lungs catching breath from the last dance, body preparing for the next, your mind was on that ballroom but your heart was far away. It was universally true that girls your age should revel in balls like this one. Full of potential husbands, dancing and music, governed by a perfect night for falling in love. You came to like it in the past, but now, after so many similar events, everything didn't have the same magic anymore.

You've heard enough stories - filled with adrenaline, pirate ships and dangerous waters - to crave adventure in your life. It was also noticed that you spent too much time with your books, and that the consequence of spending so many hours in the fictional world brought you very high standards for men and love. The whispers through the darkened streets were that you would end up a spinster. Since you took no interest in any gentleman who courted your hand.

In your defense, it wasn't your fault. The men in your reality were terribly...tasteless.

That was until he showed up.

You don't know where he emerged, or what lineage he was from, much less his name. But he came towards you like that was more important than breathing. In a virile, perfect posture. As if he knew all the secrets of the world and was able to show you them.

One of the first things you noticed were the eyes. The room was partially dark, lit only by the flickering candles in the candelabra, but the darkness only made his eyes clearer. Intense greens. Of such a pure emerald tone that it shone like a mystical cat, calling you to sink in his greenish sea. The stranger had hair as black as midnight, which fell softly and romantically over a face with firm features; jaw as sharp as a razor and a nose full of masculine personality. Although was well dressed, all his clothes, with the exception of the white linen shirt, were as dark as the strands of his hair, something unusual among the sophisticated gentlemen who were invited.

Looking at that gorgeous face, you were left speechless. The deities had been generous to this man, gifting him with bold, aristocratic features and iris as green as Egypt's most precious jewels. The mystery and secrets contained within in those eyes were a fascinating contrast.

“Can I have this dance?” Just a sentence.

He didn't introduce himself, he didn't say who he was. He just dropped that sentence as if it was the only thing he really cared to say.

The gravity of his words made your heart flutter. What a beautiful voice that man had. With a provocative huskiness, a touch of superb, as if he were an oracle at his peak in ancient Greece. The sound seemed to seep into your body and run through you like warm honey.

The truth was, you had reserved the dance for another gentleman, but in that second, you couldn't care less.

“Of course, milord.” That's what you said, accepting the hand he extended to you.

Never taking his eyes off yours, an unfamiliar sensation washed over your mortal body and engulfed everyone around you. You wondered if it was just the stuff of your imagination or if he too felt the electricity whip through his body as he positioned you closer to dance.

Single women weren't allowed to touch men's hands if you weren't wearing gloves, and that rule had never bothered you. Until now.

Until be affected by an insane, visceral desire to feel that man's skin. Of experiencing the heat radiating from his hand against yours, of feeling those white fingers, slender and pale, holding your denude skin. You've never been touched by a man without a layer of clothing intervening. No brushing of elbows, no bumped of fingers, no errant caresses. And you wondered what it was about that man that made you aware of this deprivation. That stranger radiated secrets in an inexplicable but extremely palpable way in the air and you wanted to feel the touch of mystery on your skin more than you wanted to breathe. A will as strong as fear, as intense as hunger.

Your soul screamed in frustration because of the dress when his hand cupped your cover waist. In a touch so firm it only existed in the romance novels you read. Your heart raced, your breath disappeared, and you didn't notice when you rested your hand on his shoulder and your feet began to follow the rhythm of the waltz.

It was pathetic the intensity of your emotions for a man you had just met and didn't even know his name. But, it was like you'd found something didn't even know you'd lost.

Well… if it was the lack of knowledge of his name that was making things a little difficult…

“Aren't you going to tell me your name? Mine is Y/n”

Your voice, sweet as molasses, velvety as suede, made the hairs on the back of Five's neck stand on end. He recognized the timbre now, he had already heard you calling for him in the wind, but nothing surpassed hearing you from inches away.

This was one of those moments where, if you asked Five why he was doing this, he couldn't answer. He couldn't find any logical answers to his actions, reactions, thoughts. But, once again, this rift in space and time was an environment free of rationality. He didn't need this here. He felt he didn't need to. Not when had you in his arms.

A name…

Five Hargreeves was the name of a villain. Someone who would carry on his shoulders to the grave the weight of the thousands of souls he killed. Someone whose hands were marked, eternally, with thick, hot blood. A proof that his destiny was traced directly to hell. His name was the personification of a freak created to be a hero, an orphan in the apocalypse, a man who belonged nowhere in the timeline, someone without family for many decades.

He looked at the hands that held you. The hands of a serial killer. And then he looked at you, full of beauty, life, happiness and innocence. It was like committing a crime against nature to hold something so pure in such infamous, disgraced, death-scarred hands. And something inside he twisted with something like pain…disgust, for the fist time.

His soul didn't want to hold you in the hands of Five Hargreeves.

Five Hargreeves was the villain. And he didn't want to be that man right there.

His mouth, which looked so beautiful yet so dangerous, softly approached the foot of your ear, while the body of you two continued to follow the steps of the waltz. "We don't need names here."

A current of electricity slammed into your body like a whiplash from a live eel, raising goose bumps on parts of your skin you didn't even know you had. My goodness, it was a sin for a single man to have that much charm.

Sensible young women would have turned away at once. Practical girls who appreciated rationality, sincerity and transparency, who had no estimate for games, mystery and sensuality, would have rolled their eyes. But you were not sensible, practical or appreciative of the good customs of the epoch.

You were romantic, hungry for a good charade, adventure. And that man seemed to be built by those two things.

The world was just a shapeless blur, other people were no more than wandering silhouettes, and the atmosphere was enraptured by the flickering orange light of the candles in the candelabra. The smell was of poetry, romance and freedom, which intoxicated the brain and alcoholize any common sense. Was like a magical place in the middle of space and time, a rift that allowed just being. Time passed slowly, as if dancing together with you two.

‘One second can change many things...’

Just as Five could hear his father's voice saying 'I told you so' during his years in the apocalypse, he could hear his words now.

‘you can crumble empires, win battles...’

Five swirled you around before pulling you into his arms once more, his heart pounding with each passing moment. Neither of you realized it, but every second you spent together, every step, more messed up the timeline.

You smiled full of romance and magic as he leaned you back, his hand firm on your spine, bringing you to the surface and returning to dance around the hall with the waltz that dandle yours bodies.

‘you can fall in love.’

With every strong step the two of you took on the floor, in an apocalypse dance, realities were immediately misaligned. With each spin, lines of events were exploded into other universes. With each look shared, with each smile, with each heartbeat full of romance, people were erased, born, disappeared.

An apocalypse was brewing somewhere because of his hands on your body. A mystical waltz that brought the ascension of chaos in other timelines.

Neither of you two knew about it. But if Five knew, he wouldn't keep his hands off you anyway. Five Hargreeves was the villain in many realities. And he would accept the burden of being in a few more if it meant having you in his arms.

In an inexplicable and irrational way, what was happening now had more importance than everything he had ever lived and would live through in his entire life.

"You dance very well." You praised him, and his hands on you tighten a little more.

"No more than you". Then he gave that smile.

The half smile that lifted only one corner of his mouth. Malicious, sagacious, sphinx. Who promised to know all the mysteries of the world and show you all the sins of life. What man was that? So full of charm, sensuality, beauty. He seemed out of this world and you found yourself wishing that time would freeze in that moment, that you could hold onto your chest and live in that dance for the rest of your life.

There was something different in the air. A soul-deep feeling that whispered that your life would never be the same again.

Not after this man.

“It is not difficult to find women who dance.” You joked. "You've certainly danced with others to know."

Yes, with his mother and Allison.

But even if he had been dancing with all the women in the world, they would have disappeared in that moment. No memories memory experiences with other women could stand out at that moment.

"If I danced, they all disappeared the moment I waltzed with you." He realized he might have said the right thing, because he could see the breath go out of your lungs and cheekbones flush deliciously.

God in heaven… this girl was breathtakingly beautiful.

Five led you around the hall masterfully, committing your features to his mind like the tattoo on his wrist. Permanently, eternally. Suddenly, he was struck down by the insane desire to know more about you. To hear more of your voice, to taste the way the words flowed from your lips like the purest honey.

You were like a drug, an obsession. An addiction that had stuck with him since the first time he came into that century, since he breathed the same air as you, since he coexisted under the same night sky as you. There was insane logic in the fact that his soul felt your presence without even seeing you on that first mission. He would never be able to explain it, but somehow it made sense inside in him.

Five Hargreeves didn't think about what would happen when he had to leave. He didn't think about the withdrawal his body would suffer when he was away from you. Much less noticed the way there seemed to be something important in the air. If he had been in full intellectual faculties and grounded in rationality, he would have managed to understand that that something was the temporal lines collapsing, an apocalypse forming elsewhere, pure and perfect chaos destroying parallel realities.

But he was not being led by rationality. And even if he was, he wouldn't have minded a few worlds burning if it meant having you next to his body. He didn't care. But The Commission was a different case.

But Five Hargreeves wasn't thinking about any of that.

He conducted a conversation with you the way he conducted that waltz. He discovered that you liked the high seas even though you were never allowed to be on a ship. You loved nature and enjoyed good books. He heard your eagerness to know the world and learn about different cultures, that you wanted to unravel the mysteries of Egypt, see the architecture of Greece, visit Spain and wanted to go swim in the beaches of Brazil. You were an adventurer, and Five's heart skipped a beat for it.

But in a corner of his soul, deep down, he felt an ache reverberate through his bones. The urge to tell you about the world came with overwhelming force, and something inside him died when he realized he could never tell you the truth about the subjects you cared about.

He could never tell all that the world already knew about Egypt, about its tombs and its pharaohs. He could never be able to show the beauty of Brazil's beaches that become famous tourist spots, and he reserved a note in his brain that you would have loved to visit Genipabu in Brazil, a beach with huge sand dunes that seemed to be the junction of a huge desert whit a beach. He could not tell you what science, oceanography and marine biologists already knew about the oceans. He could never say about the cruises that roamed the seas in all the luxury and comfort, much less about the planes.

Five Hargreeves would never be able to show you the world. And his soul decided to torture itself even more thinking about what it would be like if you were from his time. The things you would do, the freedom you could enjoy.

He could show you anything you wanted, tell you the secrets of the universe…His secrets.

When the waltz was over, on a note as dramatic as the situation, you couldn't say goodbye to him. Your soul, enchanted and completely enraptured by the man in front of you, vehemently refused to remove your hand over his. It seemed that every molecule in your body, every corner of your spirit, every fiber of your being, had defined that it was with that man that they wanted to stay. Forever.

What was foolish.

The truth was that the sensation of poetry, romance and magic that surrounded you two throughout the dance, had evaporated from the air like mist in the sun. Now the sure that you two weren't meant to be together hung in the air like a black cloud, thundering and flashing. This feeling oppressed you with an overwhelming force, so tangible it was possible to cut it with a razor.

No words needed to be said, but it was stamped into the environment, filling every millimeter and gap, putting that magical dance into a category that would never go beyond that: a dance.

A feeling of melancholy jabbed your throat like a scorpion's sting, injecting an emotion of sadness and helplessness into your blood like distilled poison. You didn't want that to be the end. You didn't want to say goodbye. Even with everything in the air indicating that whatever existed between the two of you, ended here, now.

Five's eyes seemed to exude the same as you. Feeling the end heavy and resounding in the air, reverberating like thunder, as every corner of his soul roared the opposite. The green sea of his irises looked like it was in the middle of a storm. Full of pain, anger. With colossal waves and revolts, which promised to destroy everything they saw ahead. Just like the oceans did in the apocalyptic events in the era of Younger Dryas.

Somehow, without having to utter a single sentence, you both knew you were feeling the same thing. Wishing, with all their might, that this wasn't the end, that they were able to hold time against their chest in a tight, desperate embrace, an attempt to freeze the pointers.

At that moment, Five clamored, to any god who would listen, that you not be taken from his arms.

However, like the evil joke that was his life, his thoughts were cut short by the chiming of the clock. 11 chimes. That echoed in his soul like the trumpets of hell, laughing at him, mocking him, making fun of a murderer thinking he would be graced with something like you.

Five Hargreeves was a villain. And he was destined to have the things villains deserve. And none of this things included someone like you.

In that sadistic moment, Five finally understood a sentence from one of the books Grace read to them at night; ‘If I were to kiss you then go to hell, I would. So then I can brag with the devils I saw heaven without ever entering it.’

Yes. Now he understood. Five Hargreeves leaned in, bringing the back of your hand to his lips, laying a kiss that, however much it was impeded by the muslin layer of your glove, he prayed that this kiss could transmit all the feelings he could never say. This are the only kiss he could give you. That sentence echoed in his head like a fact, as sure as the sky is blue, as true as the salt in the oceans.

And when he went to the core of hell, paying for all his sins, he would brag to the other demons that he had been to heaven without ever having entered it.

You wish you'd said something, asked where he was from, stopped him from going. But none of that happened. This was one of those moments that we regret forever, that are branded in a red-hot iron in the soul, in the mind, in the body. Everything inside you was screaming to go after him when Five turned arund and walked into the sea of guests. But he disappeared in the waves before you could even move your feet.

No one had to tell you, but you knew you'd never see him again. And your heart would never beat for another.

-----------

Five Hargreeves has had to do a lot of horrible things over the years. Actions he wasn't proud of but he knew needed to be done, nights awash in blood and the smell of death.

But nothing has wobble him as much as you have.

His soul, body and mind, trained since he was a child not to develop any weakness that would prevent him from being a perfect hero, then perfected and aggravated by the Commission to be the unbeatable assassin, were rarely stirred by feelings.

He was cynical, hard-nosed, crotchety and arrogant. He never got carried away by emotions and, as much as his desire to save his family is pure, he will cross any ethical lines for the greater good. And all of that made him the Commission's best weapon.

Until now.

Until his emotions messed up not just one, but thousands of timelines. Created catastrophes, formed apocalypses, killed people. Hargreeves meeting you was something that could never have happened. Repudiated not just by nature but by the gods. Having you in his arms was like a crime against the timeline, against the balance of the world.

And heavens and hells would make him pay. With work, blood, or his heart. Promising to take not only the soul, but any hope of laying eyes on you once again. As Icarus had his downfall for the sun, so Hargreeves had for you. In a triumphal ruin.

“Do you have any idea what you caused ?!” It was the first thing The Handler said as soon as Five returned from his mission, seconds after he had killed his target.

Her voice was loud, suffused with anger and rage and… despair. Five frowned, soul still aching from having to leave you, your warmth still in his arms. He didn't have the head to deal with her right now. Not when he had so much to process.

“A death.”

“Don't play smart on me!” Her roar was loud enough for Hargreeves to realize that something really serious was going on. The Handler was many things, but she never got worked up without good reason.

The clatter of her heels echoed through the room as she walked towards him, her eyes full of fierce emotion.

“You had only one job to do! One! Kill the man and get out of there. Like always!" Her voice was as rough as desert sand. “But not only did you mess up entire timelines, but created apocalypses on thousands of worlds that were to happen only thousands of years later!"

Five's mind was racing like a Catarina wheel, spinning at full throttle as it tried to put the pieces together. He blinked once, twice, his heart starting to race with the feeling that something devastating was about to be revealed.

He looked at The Handler, who understood his look. "That's right! Your little feat of dancing with that girl shattered thousands of timelines! People were killed, disappeared, events took a completely different course because of your little impertinence!"

She pulled his arm towards the thousands of screens that monitored infinite realities. And what he saw was chaos. Pure and perfect. Some worlds succumbed to fire, others to water, others to war. But they had devastation as a resemblance.

Five can hear the voices of other Commission workers in the background, in another corridor, other rooms. Some sounded desperate, others irritated, and others helpless, but all seemed concerned. He couldn't even say that he didn't know that little things had chain reactions. Because he knew. There was nothing to justify his actions, for he didn't even have a good reason for himself.

But the truth was, even staring the apocalypse in the face across nine different monitors, he felt no…remorse. There wasn't a part of him that would have done differently, that wouldn't have touched you, that wouldn't have known you. Deep in his soul Hargreeves knew he didn't care how many worlds he had destroyed just by touching you. He was going to hell anyway, it was better to have a memory of you to remember for eternity.

"...we'll have to kill her." It was just that sentence that Five's messed up mind paid attention to.

Then everything stopped.

The weather, the conversations. The world seemed to have held their breath, suspended, staring at Five. Everything inside him fell silent into scary silence, and he turned slowly toward The Handler, all his senses heightened, heart still, mind clear.

She seemed to notice his state. "What did you expect?! You know how things work. Causers of apocalypse get killed, that's our job! And because of that dance of yours, this girl has caused nine different apocalypses.”

There was a kind of insane, evil logic to the situation. The last riddle of gods and life to see Five Hargreeves on his knees. Broken, empty. To punish his sins, taking from him what he took from so many people. They engineered his downfall perfectly, writing with a red-hot iron on his soul the sentence that he could never be happy. His curse, the price to pay. Cosmic fit.

What the fucking hell.

“I'll send some agent to kill her immediately and...”

But Five Hargreeves has never been one to accept sentences imposed on him with his head down. Limitations, rules. He made his own destiny, no matter what he told him, and lived with the consequences. No god, destiny or universe dictated his life.

Everything inside him roared like a beast. Exploding, bursting, sending any control flying away. In an action without any hesitation, delicacy or ambiguities, his hand closed on The Handler's arm. In a firm, strong, tense grip that started hurt her very soon.

She looked at him in a mixture of shock and annoyance. There were very few people in the world willing to face a woman on her level, some too fearful, others who value life too much. But Five Hargreeves was none of those things. He'd never known any predator he should fear, everyone knew he was capable of anything and everything. Maybe there was no line he was able from crossing, or plan he wasn't capable of executing.

Five Hargreeves was the predator she should fear.

And The Handler realized that. For in that pair of eyes she saw danger, rage, pure and perfect hate. His sea of green gave way to red, glittering waves, shining with all the blood he had already spilled. And with a warning that he wouldn't mind spilling more.

“Stay. away. from. her. ” he guided each word with a tighter grip on her delicate arm, sure to leave marks that won't go away anytime soon.

Bewildered, she looked at him like a man possessed, filled with a rage that could fuel hell all by itself. The Handler had never seen him in that state, he was always angry, annoyed, acidic, but that… that was hatred, a bloodthirsty hate.

Five Hargreeves promised to go to hell and drag anyone with him without saying a word.

For the first time in her life, The Handler was afraid.

“Five...you know her need to die...”

"Listen to me" He vociferate, shaking her by the arm. “I don't give a fuck what you have to say. I swear, for all that exists in this world, that if you lay one finger on her, there will be nowhere on earth you can fuck hide from me.”

Five Hargreeves was a tall, masculine man, wrapped in a macabre and sinister aura when he wanted to. He pulled The Handler closer, his face filled with colossal rage being etched like a tattoo into her soul.

“I don't give a fuck about how many worlds are ending, I don't give a fuck if fucking people are dying! You won't touch her until the day I'm dead! And you can bet that, even seven feet under the ground, I'll find a way to take you with me to hell if you do fucking something to her."

You were untouchable.

All of his work on The Commission was about killing a number of people to save even more. But he would never, ever, sacrifice you for the greater good. Not even if it meant millions of dead people.

It didn't matter as long as you weren't one of the dead.

Without waiting for further discussion, he led The Handler towards the exit door, leading her out of the room and locking the door when he returned. Five wasn't stupid or naive to think that she would follow his orders. The handler might be afraid of him, but she knew how to get what she wanted, no matter how long it took. And now that he'd bruised her ego, Five knew she'd make it her primary mission to kill you.

Something he would never let happen.

If someone asked where so much anger, so much sense of protection came from, Five Hargreeves couldn't say. Because he didn't even know. In the same way that he still didn't understand everything that had happened, everything that he had been feeling, he still hadn't reasoned where such primitive, territorialist impulses came from. He had no idea where it all came from, but he was sure he could never let anything bad happen to you.

In a twisted and somewhat obscure way, you had gained a villain as a protector. A fallen angel who didn't promise to do good to people, but only to you. Who swore allegiance not to humanity, but solemnly, exclusively, to you.

It was a sensation that filled his entire body like boiling lava. And Five put his hand in the fire for the certainty that he would never be able to get rid of his feelings for you again.

His soul said that, as long as he was alive, he would be yours.

Making his mind work faster than it ever had before, Five Hargreeves concluded that every record of you had to go. There could no longer be documents proving that you were part of humanity. That once you had a name, a house, a reality. Five would have to erase you from any and all records. Forever. The only way to keep you out of the hands of the people who had access to every form of terrestrial existence, was to erase you from the world. Only then, hidden from the Commission, could you live happily. Fully.

But throwing all your documents away was signing the sentence that he was took the risk of never getting to see you again. Without them, finding someone was nearly impossible, much less accessing their reality. Five could start a calculation to find you one day, but that could take years, ages, and even if he memorized your documents number by number, did the calculations and managed to get to you without any side effects, The Commission could follow him and find you.

And finding a civilian's documents was much easier than finding a special agent like him and throwing them away too.

Once again, his life was a cruel joke of the gods, which served as entertainment for any higher power. Five strongly believed that, if there was anything above or below him, they designed his life for they own amusement.

Five Hargreeves spent hours in the file room, locked in that cubicle, not letting anyone in, not getting out. Once he disappeared with your documents, he would be declared a traitor and deserter, where his punishment would not only be more years of work, but death.

The world was spinning. Head ached. A sound gnawed at his mind, a scratch without melody, like a rustle of paper. Someone had taken a scream, a memory and a fear, crumpled it into a jagged ball, and used it to stuff Five's skull. He need to think of a plan that covered all the rough edges, but his eyes were bombarded with futures he didn't want to think about. Every time he blinked he felt the tragedy lurking in a dark and dismal corner, ready to catch him in their sharp mouths and take him somewhere he feared to go.

A place where the worst had happened to you.

Suddenly, the world was filled with secrets, fears and terror. Just as his soul took control of him in that night, it was the same in this moment. Five Hargreeves wasn't someone to get carried away by anything, but the feeling that something very bad was about to happen to you haunted him to the bone. That would be the perfect ending to his sinful life story; having the one person who touched his feelings so powerfully killed in the same way he killed so many other people.

Life was taking its toll on all the things he had done. For a second, he was afraid of that reckoning. Because the worst is not the bullet hitting yourself, but someone you like.

The feeling outside of being torn apart. All the patches and pieces of what it was to be Five Hargreeves - which he had been painstakingly piecing together throughout his life - were coming loose again, all at once. The clock was ticking, the hours were ticking, and he knew that just as he was coming up with a plan, so was The Handler.

It was a macabre race against time, in which if he lost, he had the feeling he would never fully recover. Not without a part of his soul dying along with you.

When he found your documents, the photo they had of you was a portrait made in that last century, a small painting of your face, eternalizing your smile. Suddenly, the memory of how you'd smiled at him like that gripped him like a demon. And when the memories of you intensified, they brought no comfort, just only fear and dread. Five Hargreeves could not live with himself if those memories were tainted by the knowledge that he was the cause of his tragedy. He would never be able to remember those tender moments again if memories of you were vandalized by images of how you were killed.

It was too late to remedy the consequences of what he had unleashed. The macabre possibilities of what The Handler could do to you were there, tattooed on his brain, as if they would snap open and bolt to reality at any moment. So, as panic rose, Five Hargreeves' mind slammed shut like a heavy book. He wouldn't let any of that happen. Never.

After scheming and checking all the plans in his mind, Five decided that he had already orchestrated the almost perfect scheme. He would destroy all of your documents and, when he had done that, he could no longer remain on the Commission. Thus, he would steal the mission from one of the agents about killing John F. Kennedy, the time that most closely matched his calculations to return to the family in 2019. Then Five Hargreeves would evade The Commission and deal with them without being an employee anymore. And even if they went after him, they would never find you.

Not even Five.

And so it was done.

-----------

Five Hargreeves went through the reunion with his family, faced the commission agents coming after him to kill him, dealt with The Handler and put up with his siblings drama.

In a matter of weeks, he had already gotten himself into so much trouble and confusion that sometimes he didn't even have time to breathe. Processing events and digesting them had become a luxury he no longer had, and saving the world from one apocalypse and falling into another had seemed to become a family pastime.

But there were nights. Cold, when the moon reached its apex in the sky and the rain poured down on the ground, when he was finally able to be alone and clear his mind. In those rare moments, the only thing on his mind was you.

Always you.

His point of peace, his refuge from his constant stress and pressure was in the images of you. In the way your body fit perfectly in his hands, in the way your gaze, enchanted and completely shining, did not leave his. Five Hargreeves felt that, like him at that moment, there was no other place you would rather be.

Twenty years could go by, but he would still feel what it was like to have your warmth in his arms, in the smell that your perfume exhaled and in the way the candles in the candelabra glowed on your skin. You were like a goddess, dancing at that ball as if the world would never be graced with such beauty again.

When Five Hargreeves closed his eyes, he could see you perfectly. Swirling around as if the ground were your clouds and everyone there were mere mortals, watching what the angels in heaven looked like.

It was like a dark paradise. He managed to slake some of that suffocating tightness in his chest whenever he returned to those memories, but it resulted in more flagellations in his poor, tortured soul. The notion that he would never have anything but memories, dreams, and mowed wishes, would skin him alive until his last days. Five would forever be haunted by the notion that, even when he died, you wouldn't be waiting on the other side.

You would be in heaven. And he belonged in hell.

But, it was worth it.

All the pain, all the desperation his soul struggled with, all the shortness of breath that coiled in his lungs, all the feeling of being stabbed with a dagger knowing his would never lay hands on you again, it was all worth it when he reviewed your face in his memories.

Five Hargreeves didn't clamored for relief from his pain, balm for the cuts deep in his soul, a minute's mercy. No, he accepted all of his fate with his head held high. He clamored for you to be okay. Safe, happy. Free from any worries or tribulations. He wished you had forgotten about him, erased that night from your blood, because it would be impossible to live if he knew you were suffering just like him.

Five Hargreeves had never given you a single kiss, tucked your hair in his fingers and tasted your tongue, but he didn't need it. His soul didn't need that to fall madly in love with you.

Yes, pure and perfect passion. It was the only logical explanation for how he felt about you.

Even though he never tasted your skin in his mouth, or touched you without the interference of a piece of clothing, Five Hargreeves was in love with you.

And it would be for the rest of his life.

-----------

All the Hargreeves siblings thought all was well when the Commission was defeated and they got a briefcase to take them back at home. The nightmare of the second apocalypse had already passed and now the feeling that invaded their bodies was one of relief. For a second, Klaus thought that everything would now be back on track; with the family together, stronger ties and improved relationships.

Everyone thought so, actually.

The shimmering blue flash engulfed all the brothers, passing through the barriers of space and time, leaving the Hargreeves in the mansion where they grew up and spent most of their lives. Everyone looked happy, relaxed. And Five also shared the same relief.

Until that fateful moment.

Until a draft of wind enter through the window behind him and hitting his back, bringing a feeling that immediately made every hair on his body stand on end. In a matter of seconds, all sense of relief, calm, and peace were shattered, exploding one by one with the same aggressiveness of a nuclear bomb. The world seemed to stumble and stoped, the colors of the hemisphere fluidized into a vintage orange, flickering, almost as if the lighting came from candles.

As much as his siblings were laughing and making noises, everything for Five was quiet, in a tacit silence. The sound of cars on the streets did not exist anymore, the conversations disappeared, and, little by little, the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. Increasing in tempo gradually, like a soundtrack.

Then, in the apex of silence, when Five could already hear the blood rushing through his veins, he listened.

Five.

Your voice in the wind, almost like a whisper. Calling for him. Just like you did a long time ago.

His soul gave a scream that shook him to the very bones, and he didn't notice when his eyes widened and his breath hitched. Suddenly, his whole body came back to life, being pulled sharply from the bottom of the ocean, submerging, desperately, breathless, astonished. Abruptly, the heat returned to his hands, to his cheeks, to his heart. Five could feel warmth coursing through his body as if they had rekindled the flame of his soul.

Was like resurrect.

He looked back in one jerk, spinning in place, heart pounding in his ribcage, his frantic, frantic eyes darting around every corner.

Nothing.

“Hey, are you okay?” Klaus looked back, focusing on his brother, but Five didn't respond.

He walked past Klaus as if he couldn't hear him, his eyes and hands trembling visibly, his step tight. Five chased the wind current as if he were chased his life, oblivious to anything or anyone.

His siblings, finding the situation strange, followed him without hesitation, accompanying the owner with green eyes entering more in the house. They had no idea what to expect, or what to think, but they stopped behind Five as he froze in the middle of the living room, eyes petrified, wide, fixed on a very specific spot at the top of the stairs.

But nobody noticed what he saw.

While all the Hargreeves were taken aback by Reginald's appearance in the outer corner of the room, stunned and petrified, growing more and more stunned as their father went on to explain the situation, Five couldn't take his eyes off the top of the stairs. Nothing in the world would have made him look elsewhere.

You.

Fucking hell...you.

There, standing next to people he didn't care to find out who they were, looking down, observing at the people who had just entered.

Suddenly, everything inside him was whipped by currents of electricity, as if he'd been struck by lightning. An argument seemed to be brewing in the background, but Five Hargreeves didn't fucking care. May the world explode, may everything end up in dust, fire or water. He didn't want to know.

You were there. With the sunlight coming through the large windows behind your back, and illuminating your silhouette as if you were a deity, a goddess, a muse. You shone. Like the gates of heaven. At that moment, the soul of Five Hargreeves fell to his knees in front of you. For you.

An extremely strong emotion invaded him without asking permission, destroying everything he once was. Five felt like crying.

As a war in the background unfolded, the people who were beside you started to descend the stairs one by one. But he couldn't take his eyes off you.

“Five. Five.” Luther seemed to call out to him in the background, but he didn't care.

You walked down the steps the same way you glided through that ballroom, as if the floor were your clouds. Yours robes were uniform this time, but Five was pretty sure that behind that high collar, your skin harbored a birthmark on your collarbone. Your hair was down, but he knew how you looked with your strands tied up.

With each step you took, more his pulse quickened. It was like a dream, a mirage, his oasis in the scorching desert. At some point in the battle against the Commission he had died, and that was his dream.

However, Luther's hand gripped his arm, forcing his green eyes to meet his brother's.

“Dude, what's wrong with you? Didn't you hear dad saying that we're in another reality?”

“I am not your father.” Reginald countered. “Not in this reality.”

Five frowned, rationality slowly returning to his body, his brain taking over once more. A parallel reality. That explained a lot. A reality where…you existed.

Holy shit.

Someone said the Hargreeves had better go, and Five would have laughed out loud if he hadn't submerged in thoughts. If they really was in a parallel reality, that meant you didn't remember him. You didn't even know him. The version who have danced with him was still in another century, in a timeline far, far away.

But…Five looked up. You radiated the same beauty of the romantic period as before, your skin still looked feather soft, your lips still where able to take away his complete self-control, your eyes still have… the same glow that he remembered so many times during so many nights.

You didn't know him, but that didn't matter. Because Five knew you.

He suffered the worst of martyrdoms all this time, and now that he'd finally, finally found you once more, he wasn't going to leave. Even if it meant having to make you fall in love with him all over again. In fact, Five Hargreeves would dedicate his entire lives to making you fall in love with him all over again in every reality there is. He would have as many times as necessary a first dance with you.

He didn't realize it, but his lips lifted in a smile. In a snap of fingers, everything reached a apex, higher than the buildings, higher even to the clouds. All the problems evaporated like mist in the sun, and being in a parallel reality, with a father that wasn't his, in a house that wasn't the one he grew up in, seemed to be extremely insignificant.

For the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was happy. And nothing would change that.

That's when, amidst all the arguing the Hargreeves and Sparrows were having around, your eyes met his. And for him it was like coming home after an excruciating winter.

You cocked your head slightly to the side, intrigued by the way that man was looking at you so…surrendered. You understood the gravity of the situation, of those strangers breaking into your home and trying to claim everything as theirs. You were also irritated just like your siblings.

But... when you looked at that man… with eyes so green and hair so dark, something inside you caught your breath. A shiver went up your spine. And maybe you were crazy, but you can swear that felt your soul heave a sigh of…relief. A strange, emotional feeling reverberated through your spirit as if…somehow you'd just found what you've spent so long waiting to met again.

It don’t make sense.

As the confrontation unfolded between the two families, you couldn't help but notice that, minute by minute, you found yourself wanting to look at this man more. As if it were never going to be enough, as if the second you turned your head, you were overcome with an insane urge to see more. You should be focused on trying to get those strangers out of your house, not admiring one of them.

But Five realized that. A spark inside him vibrated with hope, and he delighted in being able to relive the feeling of what it was like to be looked at by you again.

But before he or you could even do anything, the physical feud between the two families broke out with astonishing speed, spreading like the plague. Diego, as usual, was the first to go into battle, followed by Luther and Allison.

See, you didn't consider yourself a confrontational person. Your peculiarity was to manipulate the natural elements and, although that made you one of the strongest figures among your siblings, you had a more adventurous spirit than a fighter. There was no such homeric thirst in your blood to be the best, the strongest, the most brutal. Ben said that was the most unattractive thing about you, but Sloane saw this feature with good eyes. Like you, she wasn't much inclined to brutality.

The fight drove you and Five away from each other, separated by rooms, siblings and war. You saw your family appeal to brute aggression very quickly, while, if you're honest, you didn't want to hurt anyone. Is trut that you were irritated by the way they claimed your house as theirs, but you didn't think they were bad people.

Or all this bland resolutions were for the fact that you didn't want to hurt him. Because, in some way you couldn't explain, you knew he wouldn't hurt you.

But that's when Alphonso yelled at you from upstairs. “Y/N! Do fucking something too!”

Everyone was scattered around the house, but you still remained downstairs, in the living room, arranging a way to help without being very aggressive like your siblings were being. You had no intention of killing or seriously injuring them, but you also weren't willing to put up with the scolding your brothers would give you if you continued to be omitte.

So, when one of the strangers came running to get away from something, the tail of his dark overcoat dancing in the air and his black hat toppling along the path, your reaction was to do the one thing that couldn't seem to do any real damage. In a wave of the hand, the windows were shattered by large, sprawling tree roots, that came out of the garden earth like thick snakes and entered the house in a steady stream.

The man gave a high-pitched scream, but his feet were already entwined by the roots and he was knocked to the ground. The roots, which spilled earth over the floor and exhaled a forest smell, wrapped themselves around the man's body up to his chest, with the only purpose of immobilizing him.

You weren't putting force or brutality, and you were sure the roots were just putting considerable pressure on, like a bandage around an injured arm. But the man didn't seem to notice this, because he kept screaming.

The fear should still be clouding his senses, and you revealed the situation. For it wasn't often that someone was wrapped around by giant roots that moved of their own accord. In your place, you would have reacted that way too.

“Hey, hey” you tried to get closer “It's ok, they won't hurt you and…”

But your speech was interrupted by shrill hum, which cut through the air with force and passed like a bullet in front of your face, shaking a few locks of your hair. The speed were frightening, and for a second your heart stopped in your chest. The fright made you take two steps back immediately, but in a matter of seconds any feeling was replaced by a very strong burning in your left cheek. In the same second, a hot liquid began to ooze from your injured skin like water in a current, spreading pain wherever went.

Two seconds that were able to put you face to face with death. Because that attack was not joking.

The bearded man ran to help the one who was lying on the ground, forcing his freedom between the roots that were now weak due to your distraction.

Unlike you, Diego didn't care about the things he had to do to save his family. He was willing to injure, inflict permanent damage, even killing if that was the only way out. He would have a guilty conscience later, but in the heat of the moment, he wouldn't hesitate. Diego did this to the Commission agents hours ago, and he would do this to you if he had to. As sure as the sky was blue, the Sparrows were the enemy. And he was the hero. Thats it. Two polar opposites, destined to face each other into the death.

And that was why he didn't hesitate to attack when he saw Klaus lying on the floor, screaming as if he were being killed. After getting a small taste of the kind of things your powers were capable of doing, it was pretty clear that you were one of the first ones that needed to go down. So Diego didn't hesitate either when he pulled Klaus off the ground, and wielded yet another dagger. Aiming not to hurt, but to kill.

But love could drive even the smartest minds crazy.

Because when the dagger was thrown in the air, a blue flash invaded the scene and a male body enveloped yours, pushing both of you aside in a rough, protective, intense gesture.

Five Hargreeves was on the stair railing, fighting Jayme, when Klaus's screams grab his attention. He didn't have much time to process what he was seeing, but the moment one of Diego's daggers slashed across your cheek, the primal, visceral instinct he'd felt so long ago, with The Handler on The Commission, roared through him like an angry beast. So when another dagger was wielded and thrown into the air, he didn't think twice, didn't hesitate, didn't blink.

Dropping everything behind, Five Hargreeves dove into the blue flash, having you as the only focus in mind.

As soon as the crash of his body with yours caused you both to leave the deadly path, the arms, masculine and wide, wrapped around your back as if he were holding the only anchorage on the high seas in the middle of a storm. His heart was pounding in his chest, and as much that adrenaline, primal instinct and rage were bubbling through his body, he still managed to feel his soul sighing in deep relief when felt your warmth again in his arms.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

Diego's angry roar seemed to shake the walls, but didn't stop the obstinate, angry look that swallowed Five's expression.

“Diego…” his voice didn't match the situation the Hargreeves found themselves in. His tone was serious, steady, so calm it was terrifying, like the warning of darkness to the light. “Stay away from her.”

His brother's confused and perplexed look couldn't have been more accentuated. And even Klaus, known for being the least serious about situations, looked completely astonished. Five Hargreeves didn't held you like he was preventing a murder. No. He held you like Cerberus should have held the only person he was ever loyal to.

"You are fucking crazy?!" Diego gestured with his hands “Let go the enemy now!”

The Hargreeves have been through a lot, seen a lot. Many of them being absurd, beyond any rationality or law of physics, moments in which they had to deal with situations that were not possible to be of this world. But nothing, and no one, could have prepared Diego and Klaus for what they heard from Five;

"Never."

The moment was dispersed when Viktor appeared in the room, shaking, hurt, out of his mind. His head fell back in a single gesture, his arms opened up and the fists closed, as white lights began to shoot out from within his eyes and chest.

Five Hargreeves knew what that meant.

He didn't think twice before running to the side, hiding you behind the bar counter and lowering you two bodies to the floor. His body in front of yours, blocking access to the roughest impact in you.

You two had three seconds, three seconds to look into each other's eyes before the flash explodes. And in that three seconds, the only thing that passed in the soul of both of you was the feeling of finally being where should be.

-----------

"They're stupid villains who think they're smart!" Ben was furious in the kitchen, pacing back and forth.

The last few days had passed like this. With Ben angry about the invasion, Ben angry about the fight, Ben angry about Marcus disappearing, Ben angry about... well... he was always angry.

Of all your siblings, he had the worst temper. Fei and Christopher were practically his dogs, going along with all of Ben's stupid plans just because... you really didn't know why they followed him so fervently, but had a theory that it was because they both thought they would have more power when Ben's plans came to fruition.

A hierarchical system that filled the family with toxicity.

On the other hand, there were Jayme and Alphonso. You never really understood the two, but you described them as bullies. A duo who liked the power they had and how they managed to exert it over people.

The only one you could relate to more deeply was Sloane.

"It would have been better if Y/n had made an attack." Alphonso brought your name up in conversation, his gaze full of rancor.

"Fuck off, asshole" It was the only thing you deigned to say, because you didn't have the patience to deal with his comments at the time.

The truth is, since the invasion, you couldn't get him out of your mind.

It was like a drug, an addiction, that had seeped into your blood from the first time you laid eyes on him. There was something there, something you could never explain. He should be the enemy. Your enemy. But…

The way he saved you from the knives, the way his arms wrapped around you. Almost like he already knows how to hold you. How to protect you.

Your heart couldn't slow down whenever your thoughts returned to that man. From the memory of him placing his body in front of you, standing at the forefront of the explosion.

He saved you. Everytime. And there was something that told you he would save you every chance he got.

The truth was…you wanted to see him. Know his name. Talk with him. There was no longer a fiber of your being that saw the situation as your siblingsdid, your body was facing the complete opposite north.

You wanted to touch him, not fight with him.

When time passed, and Luther showed up at the mansion as someone who was kidnapped, you, again, did not see the situation as a beneficial opportunity for your family. But for you.

Suddenly, your entire soul was gripped by a completely unsettling anxiety that made your hands itch, stomach churn, and your legs unable to stay still. Then you were swept by a feeling of deep sadness, as if you'd already experienced what it was like to spend your whole life wanting to see that man and never getting.

There was no more logic, rationality or coherence to what you were feeling, but finding him was as indispensable as breathing.

That's why you volunteered - more like an imposition - that you would be the one to escort Luther home the moment Ben said he could leave.

“It was kind of you to accompany me” The blond man smiled at you, as the two of you walked through the night streets.

"It was nothing." You tried to sound casual, but with every step toward your destination, the more your hands itched, the more your heart was racing, and in a moment, you found yourself picking up the pace to get there faster.

“I have to confess that you were a topic of discussion between my brothers.” Luther laughed, his odd way of bringing up the subject and not mincing words.

But that got your attention. "What do you mean?"

“A-ahem…well…from what I understand, Diego wanted to kill you, but Five stopped him and…”

Five…Five

His name was Five.

Something inside you stirred. An unfamiliar emotion, but one that made a smile rise to yourcheeks.

“Five” you tried to say aloud, and his name just… felt right on your lips.

You went the rest of the way not being able to pay attention to a single syllable Luther was saying. You don't wanted to be rude, but you just… couldn't stop thinking about Five.

“How long before we get there?” you cut off something Luther was saying about Sloane, and the blond eyebrows drawing together in strangeness.

“Actually” he looked at the big hotel in front of him “We already arrived and…”

But you couldn't stop yourself. All of your muscles felt like they had undergone countless electrical discharges, your heart was faster than any living soul has ever been, and your blood was rushing through your veins like marathon runners. You increased your pace considerably, quickly climbing the steps and opening the doors of that building as if you had just walked through the gates of paradise.

You needed to see him.

Luther came up behind you, giving you a suspicious look and walking towards a bar, where the outlines of several people were talking.

-----------

"I returned." Luther's voice brought Five out of his thoughts, and a part of her brain tried to remember the time his brother had left.

And he didn't find any answers.

To his defence, Five's mind had been elsewhere these days. Moments when he rewound in his mind once, twice, three times. Not even the impending new apocalypse knocking on the door seemed to have any effect on Five. To be honest, he… saw no point in trying to save the world this time. Meeting you once was a miracle, but meeting you again, in an entirely different reality and without The Commission making things difficult, seemed like too much of a luxury for him to ignore.

The truth was that in the first attempt to escape the apocalypse he ended up sending the family to different times, with intervals of years between each one. And, deep down, he didn't know if he could handle trying to take you with him to another reality and end up losing you too.

Five had been through this once before. He knew pain too well not to be willing to risk it.

“What is the enemy doing here?!"

Diego's voice snapped Five out of his thoughts, and an electric current shot through his head and reverberated down to his toes. Immediately, without any hesitation, his eyes flew away, finding not just Luther - whit several bags in hand - but you beside him.

You.

Something inside him ignited, his heart raced and, for a moment, the whole world around him fell away.

But just for a moment, because Diego was already getting up from his seat.

“Hey. Hey!” Five teleported away, once again placing the body in front of you . “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

“What would anyone do to the enemy! What are you doing? Defending a stranger again?!"

“She is not a stranger, Diego. Now be quiet in your place before I have to do it for you.”

"She is not?" Klaus and Viktor said in unison

"I'm not?" Your voice, the only one that mattered to him, came from behind his back, quieter than the others but loud enough for him to hear.

Five turned towards you, turning his back on his siblings. Unlike how he looked at Diego, his eyes held all the softness and attention in the world when they met yours. A small smile appeared at the corner of his left mouth, a secret smile, hidden from the world but revealed only to you.

"It's a long story," he admitted, having no idea how to start. How to tell something that even to him don't make sense.

“I came to see you.” you rewarded his honesty with another truth, a gleam crossing his eyes like shooting stars. “I have time to listen.”

A smile blossomed on his lips, and Five was overcome by the purest feeling of happiness. Without saying anything, or giving anyone satisfaction, his hand laced into yours, and he disappeared with you in the blue flash.

-----------

Any sensible, practical, centered woman, would have laughed at what Five had just told you. Anyone who didn't get carried away by matters of the heart and didn't believe that two people, when destined to be together, are helped even by the wind, would have turned around and walked away.

But you weren't a sensible woman, nor practical, much less centered. Your being was composed of romance, adventure and magic. You fervently believed in destiny, soulmates and that some loves are capable of overcoming the barrier of space and time.

What's more, if all that wasn't enough, you also felt, from your soul to your bones, sensations that couldn't be explained. Feelings he was also saying he felt too. You believed in him. And that fact came as soft as the droplets of dew, as the brightness of the moon.

After his account came to end, with him letting himself be vulnerable in telling all the thoughts that ever crossed his mind about you, the urge to say just one thing screamed your blood rumbling. “You’re no the villain in my story” your words hung in the air.

“I am,” Five's voice brimmed with a liquid honesty that was able to chill your bones, but nothing in his words hinted at remorse for the things he'd already done. “But i'll be the villain for you. Not to you. I'll let worlds burn again if it means keeping you alive. In a problematic way, that I'll never be able to explain, I don't feel guilty about doing something if it means your safety.”

Five Hargreeves expected many things. Many different reactions. Many words of contradiction. But never what happened next.

Your mouth, without any hesitation, joined his in a kiss that was capable of making his world explode. His body was ignited by a fire that swallowed even his soul, washing away all his sins and giving a demon a taste of heaven.

So what was it like to kiss a goddess? An angel, a muse.

If before, without even touching your skin without the interference of clothing, Five would have happily accepted going to hell, now, with your hot mouth melting into his like warm honey, he would accept the torture of eternal fire with a smile on his face.

And when the small kiss intensified into something much bigger, his hands, warm and masculine, wrapped possessively around your waist. There was no going back. There was no turning back. Five would keep you for himself in the same selfishness that a villain steals a princess. And there was no hero in the world capable of pulling you away of his clutches.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” He found the last bit of strength to let you know when your hands untied his tie “I could really hurt you.”

But all good intentions evaporated when your eyes, eager and full of desire, blinked at him. There was an addictive sweetness in that look. The way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, the way your eyes held tinges of delicious submission but hid an incendiary fire behind them.

Fucking damn. He wanted you so badly.

"I don't care." Your breathless whisper invaded the room. But he didn't know if you understood the seriousness of the situation.

“Y/n.” his hands cupped your face. “I spent a lot of time contenting just for the way you looked at me. Spending sleepless nights reliving what it was like to feel the contour of your waist in my hand.” His voice was serious, deep, rough like sand scraping against stone. “Do you have any idea of the things I'm going to do to you now that I can finally, finally, have you?” his pitch lowered a few notes, like a predator talking to its prey.

You didn't know it, but only imagination made yours thighs tighten.

“I can destroy you.” his lips went to the foot of your ear, down to the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent and tasting you. “I can leave your body purple, your breasts bitten, your hips marked by the aggressiveness of mine whenever I enter on you.”

A moan escaped your mouth, fingers tightening on his arms, head lolling to the side.

Oh lord, please he do that.

Five's hands went up to your shoulders, in a touch that became more and more possessive, gluttonous, as if he wanted to swallow you.

“I can spend hours fucking you.” his fingers lowered the straps of your dress, letting the fabric fall unceremoniously to the floor. Five pulled his face away enough to be able to look at your body fully, and a husky growl followed right away. “I can kill you.”

Here, in that moment, Five Hargreeves was giving you one last chance to give up, to make him tame the villain he was and who would destroy you for any other man.

If you slept with Five Hargreeves, you would never stop being his.

"Do it." but you didn't have an ounce of self-preservation in the inner body "please."

You didn't have to beg twice. His hands pulled your legs up, making you place your feet on his hips and hug him with your legs. Your back hit the closed bedroom door as Hargreeves' mouth claimed all it could of his. Twisting your tongue around his, biting and sucking on your bottom lip, he was beginning to mark you as his in a single kiss.

“You have no idea how much I want you.” his confession was more of a hoarse groan, hands fumbling with his belt and lowering the waistband of his pants.

Under other circumstances, he would have sucked you until drive you unconscious, pushing your walls with his fingers until you begged for his cock. But he didn't have the presence of mind to do that now. Not now. Not today. He warned of the consequences of wanting to continue at that moment. But you wanted, you begged, and now he was no longer afraid of being able to fuck you with all the vehemence he needed.

Your moans invaded the room very quickly, your waist, even if limited by the door, moved in his groin, exorcising any common sense and control that Five once had.

He pushed your panties to the side impolitely and entered you in one single, glorious, primal thrust. His cock slid in with extreme ease, being completely soaked by the way your pussy was so slick.

“Oh fucking hell” his growl sent even more waves of pleasure to your uterus, and you pressed your mouth to his neck to keep from screaming.

That's when he withdrew and pushed himself into you. Strong, brute. Hitting until found the bottom of the well. His thrusts began relentlessly, thrusting in and out of you aggressively, possessively, almost animalistic. Five's hands were all over yourbody, fingerprinting every bit of your flesh. The nails digging into your waist when you contracted and squeezed him within your plush walls.

“Fuck. fuck.” his groans mingled with the attrition of the bodies of you two against the door, which sent loud, telltale noises throughout the hotel.

But you would rather die than stop.

His cock suddenly hit a place that made your moans come out too loud. Tears began to pool in the corner of your eyes, and your toes curled.

“Oh do you feel this, baby?” Five teased you, digging himself as deep as possible anatomically and rubbing the tip of his cock there, eliciting sly, desperate cries from you "That's your cervix."

Then he went back to fucking you aggressively, this time pulling his chest away from you and digging his hands hard into the flesh of your hips, pulling you towards him at a intensity that could only be described as animalistic.

This was better than anything he had ever tasted in his life. Better than any sin. Better than any whiskey.

His cock desecrated your pussy like it was the only thing that mattered in the world, pulling thick liquids out of you that enveloped him in pasty white rings. Five Hargreeves would ensure that whenever you thought of any man, your mind was invaded by the way he fucked you.

"I will… I will…" your tearful voice blended with the noise of the door slamming and your bodies bumping into each other.

“Thats right, baby” his mouth covered your “cum for me. cum so I can fill that gluttonous pussy with my cum.”

If the way he thrust in and out of you wasn't enough to make you come, his lines had done the job. You came in a glorious explosion of stars, colors and sensations. Your body contracted with absurd force and relaxed like the best of massages. Your arms went limp around his neck, and you could feel his cock tremble and the hot, thick liquid fill your entire pussy.

The noise of the door stopped, his moans calmed down and now the only thing that could be heard was the heavy breathing in the air.

You thought it was over, until Five climbs a hand to your neck and lets out a broken growl "'You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat, baby."

His cock moved inside you, moving in and out smoothly, pushing his cum even deeper inside you. Make sure you gobble it all up.

“Did you think we were done, princess?” he chuckled evilly, his lips moving closer until they were inches from yours. "I'm just getting started. I'm going to show you how much I've wanted you this whole fucking time.”

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mykinkyyandere · 2 years

Text

Weak Princess

AO3

Pairings: Yandere/Dark! Daddy! Five Hargreeves X Age Regressed! Naive! f!Reader

Summary: Five's desire to have you goes back to his childhood years. Over the years, this protective instinct turns into a darker, more obsessive desire. On top of that, you being so naive only makes things worse.

Warnings: Smut, DUB-CON & NON-CON, +18, yandere, dark, obsessive, possessive, controlling, stalking, manipulating, abusing, lying, kidnapped reader, male & female receiving, daddy-kink, praise kink, hinted somnophilia & hand job, punishments, male dominance, (forced) age regressed & isolated reader, naive & innocent reader, taking advantage of the reader, step-sibling relationship, sexual assault, drugged reader, bottle-feeding, pet names, smacking on the butt, hair pulling, shower sex, oral sex (both receiving), forcing to blow job, slapping face with cock, cumming in mouth, forcing to drink cum, drinking cum, slightly chocking, hinted dacryphilia (?), unprotected sex, drunk sex, drunk Five, cumming inside, loss of virginity, slight blood (virginity), dirty talk (?), grammatical mistakes, possible missed warnings

A/N: Five's a grown-up & didn't stuck in the future. This fiction focuses on flashbacks & past.

It was difficult for you to make sense of life. Understanding life and taking care of yourself. You never knew why you were like this and you constantly watched others to take care of you. First different nannies and then your new mom. Dad said that there was a problem with you and kept your interaction with people very limited. You hardly ever played with your siblings and you saw very little of them. You barely even left your room because dad didn't let you, as you had somehow hurt yourself everytime. Seeing how upset you were, mom got dad's permission and took you to your siblings from time to time, promising to keep you completely safe. Unfortunately, you didn't grow up together enough to get to know each other and establish closeness. But that didn't stop Five from developing an instinct for you that would later become a huge obsession.

You knew that the fact that you were so vulnerable, in need of protection and care was something that attract Five's attention from the very first moment. His eyes were on you, always. Even though you barely saw him, you could tell at a glance how polar opposite he was. You tried to get him out of your mind, but you couldn't stop comparing yourself to him. You wondered if he was comparing too, if he thought how different you were. You wished so much that the meaning of his stares, which were always on you, would be good. If you knew he was staring at you because he hated you, you'd probably cry and never be able to go out again because he was great in your eyes.

He's always been the powerful boy in every way. He neither cared nor obeyed what others said. With his rebelliousness and self-confidence, he's always been the most different person in the room and the scariest person to you. You could tell he was proud of the way he was. He was satisfied with the little smile that appeared on his face when they recognized his intelligence and superiority and saw him as a leader. You could see that being weak was something he had never experienced. On the other hand, seeing how much of a 'coward' girl you were compared to him made you shy away from him. You were afraid that he wouldn't like you, break your heart, or embarrass you. You never could've guessed what a boy like him might think of a girl like you. He looked at you all the time, he was always around whenever you were allowed to go out. You thought he was belittling you. But you were wrong.

One day you walked through the mansion to find your siblings without mom seeing you. You felt bad for running away from her, but you wanted to take care of yourself. After using the stairs, you saw Five and froze in panic. You were so scared because you thought he was going to be mad at you and tell you to go. You wanted to go back without him seeing you, but you met his eyes. Out of breath, you took a step back and lost your balance. You could've been seriously injured if you had fallen down those stairs. Maybe you could have died. But Five, catching your falling body, held you tight and jumped back to where he was. He knealed on the floor, leaned your body against his shoulder, and gripped your chin. His gaze was firm. His brows were furrowed and it was clear that he wasn't satisfied. "What are you doing on the stairs all alone?"

You tried to get up but he didn't let you. His hold around your body was firm, and his demeanor showed that he certainly didn't want you to do the opposite of what he wanted. He squeezed your chin a little and forced you to answer. His voice was calm, but definitely serious. "Why are you alone?"

"I wanted to find my siblings." Your eyes filled with tears and your voice trembled. He definitely scared you. He tightened his arm and shook his head when you wanted to get out of his hold. He took a deep breath and looked down at you disapprovingly.

"Without mom?"

You didn't know how to respond and started to cry. Were you too sensitive or was he too harsh? Why didn't he let you go, why did he push you so hard? Did he hate you that much? He watched you cry for a short while without doing anything, and then he let go of your chin and hugged you. He... hugged you. You couldn't believe he hugged you. You felt that he was hesitating but he was gentle as he hugged you. He patted your head, slowly pulling your hair near your ear. His hot breath tickled you and made you tremble. "You can't walk around alone. Something very bad could happen to you."

You felt so helpless, and sad. He was right, what were you thinking? If he hadn't saved you... You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, couldn't measure your acts. You didn't notice your tears soaking his uniform as you lay your head on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry." You burst into tears, therefore he teleported you to his room. He even carried you to his bed and let you sleep there. Your thoughts about Five had changed that day. You saw that he actually cared about you when he carefully put you in his bed, sat next to you and caressed your cheek. He even apologized for being harsh on you. Then, he gave you a long warning that you shouldn't go anywhere without mom, or him. He said you shouldn't be afraid of him and you should always tell him when you need or want something.

"I know I'm scaring you, I've been aware of this for a long time. You're so timid that I couldn't help but try to understand you from afar. A mysterious, shy and rather fragile girl who rarely leaves her room. Like an angel hiding or being protected from the evil world. You're just so... whatever. To be honest, I thought it was impossible to talk to you. I don't know why, probably this sounds so stupid right now. I don't know how to explain. For that, you must see yourself through my eyes. The feelings you give me are quite... different. But I just want you to know that I've always wanted to be close to you."

He constantly checked on you to make sure he had your attention as he spoke. He cupped your cheeks and brought his face closer to yours, he tilted his head to ask if you understood, or he repeated himself several times when he thought you didn't understand. That was the day you broke the wall between you and him. Five, once looking at you from afar, said that you shouldn't leave his side no matter what. He even told that he wanted to protect you. It was comforting to learn that he actually kept protective rather than bad thoughts about you. "I'm going to talk to dad. It's time for me to take charge of you. As if I really care if he says no."

"But don't you have more important things to do? Like saving the world?" You grabbed his wrist as he caressed your cheek with his thumb and looked at him with an almost sad expression. He smiled but somehow managed to seem scary. Oh, he was very bossy, he had that dominant energy and you felt overwhelmed by the effect he had on you. Even if it was dad, he had an attitude that could confront anyone with his stubbornness and fearlessness.

"I want to spend time with you. We never got a chance to get to know each other, don't you think?"

You nodded and kept staring at him. "What if he says no?"

Smiling, he leaned closer to your face and whispered. "Then I have no choice but to kidnap you."

Of course he calmed you down by patting your head as you gasped in surprise and looked at him with horror. It was just a joke, you don't need to be afraid.

After that day, Five was always with you instead of watching you from afar. He talked to you, more like asking questions, but it was okay. He asked if you felt dizzy or thirsty, if you were afraid or bored, if were you hurt, if you needed something or wanted something... He was being a little obsessed. You saw that Five wasn't the cruel person you thought to be, but you never thought that he'd be someone who would constantly worry about you and question you for that. You weren't sure what to think. Everything was already very difficult for you. But whenever you felt uneasy about his behaviors and wanted go, he restrained himself. He made you think you were exaggerating every time. Although he scared you sometimes, him protecting you from dad was something that always made your heart tremble.

One day, dad said you had no power, but a weakness that keeps you behind. You can't take care of yourself, you always believe in everyone, you're scared of everything instantly and many more things. "You weren't born a superhero, you were born a super weak!", that's what he told you in front of all your siblings, Pogo, and mom after you run out of your room to attend your siblings' training.

Some of your siblings looked at the ground, some at you. None of them stood up to dad or followed you as you ran crying into your room. Or that they didn't comfort you when you left your room in the weeks that followed. Except Five. When you met his eyes after dad's cruel words, you saw him pressing his lips together. He clenched his fist and shook his head. You heard him yelling at dad as you left there in shame, unable to stand to be in front of anyone any longer. Five's words were bold, truly he was fearless.

Then, when you thought no one would come after you, he suddenly appeared in front of you and grabbed your arms when you jumped with fear. You were excited by those weird feelings in your heart as he tilted his head to make eye contact. When you tried to turn your head, he grabbed your cheek and forced you to look at him. You almost saw his hidden feelings when you looked into his eyes. It was all written there. His eyebrows were raised and his mouth was separated. His expression was full of sadness and pity. He seemed to really need to know that you was and would be okay, or at least you felt like it. "Don't listen to him. You know what a bad man he is. You're so special. No, super special."

The first time you were allowed out of your room in weeks after that, you went to your siblings again. Yes, you were offended, but you were also alone. There were no other people around to see. You watched their training like always and when they took a break, Five jumped next to you. "How's my little sister doing?" He spoke loudly and put his arm around your shoulder. He looked like he wanted everyone to hear him. He wanted them to know that he was taking care of you or that you were somehow close to him.

Years passed and everyone went their own way. You, on the other hand, were so lucky to have Five take you with him. The first thing he did was buying a house that he knew would be completely safe for you. Then he decorated your rooms in your taste. Maybe with a little extra safety measures. No pointy furniture, no pointed items, mirrors and windows are impossible to break...

You were strictly forbidden to go out and supposed to stay in your 'playroom' when he wasn't there. He said this room was good for your mind. He told you that you were much more sensitive because you were much more navie than other people for some reason. That's why you had to be protected with high safety measures. And it was his job to protect you. Protecting you, even from yourself, was his top priority. Deep down you thought it was wrong. He wasn't supposed to be like this. But Five never let you argue otherwise. In early days, he was softer with you, showed more tolerance. But as time passed, you felt that his hold on you was getting tighter. He controlled you more than before and even started punishing you. Your first punishment was because you left your playroom and go to the kitchen, and he never allowed you to go there. It was a big no-no place. He was mad, gripping your arm and causing you to whimper in pain. He pushed you into the bed and pinned your arms above your head.

Five got a lot tougher with you as time went on, but it was the first time he had a physical reaction on you. A real physical reaction of his anger. You've never forgotten the way he snapped "What the hell do you think you're doing!". Then he grabbed your arm and dragged you to the bed. He gave you ten hard smacks on each cheek of your butt. You were so scared of him that day, and from that day on, you kept being scared, no matter how much he tried to soothe you. You wanted to get away from him, you wanted to run away from him. By the time you realized how much Five wanted to control you, how much he wanted to possess you, it was too late. A time traveler, ruthless and fetal. There was no escape from him. And he had changed a lot. Of course, you didn't expect him to stay the same as he was years ago. He had grown into a much more dominant man.

The first time, when you moved into your house, he just wanted you to be in your playroom until he was home, including at noon. Later, he let you into the bedroom when he decided you need a daily nap. You could only enter the bedroom at bedtime and nap time because otherwise you would be confused and disrupt your sleep patterns.

Weeks later, he sat you on his lap and started asking how you were. It was more like a questioning ritual in which he questioned you in the evening, making sure that everything was alright. He kept asking you throughout the day if you were okay, but when he sat you on his lap, he gave you a general questioning about everything. It was more about what you did. He wanted to know everything he hadn't witnessed. He said it was a brainstorm when it bothered you and you tried to avoid him. It was important to strengthen your memory.

Then he started dressing you. You wore what he wanted, not what you wanted. He said that although the choice of clothes may seem simple, it was actually very important for your physical health, so you can't do it on your own. Just trust him, daddy knows best. Yes, it sounded off when he first called himself daddy. But he said that he actually had that title from the very beginning, just a title that your sensitive little mind can't comprehend in a minute, that's why he didn't tell you anything about it before. It would scare you if he did.

"A daddy always takes care of his baby. You don't need anyone while I'm around, especially that man. He wasn't your dad. But I can be your daddy, you just need to let me."

He didn't seem to be asking for permission though. He was just getting you used to it. He even started scolding you when you didn't call him daddy. He often held your chin and looked directly into your eyes or smacked your butt randomly.

So you learned eventually. You loved that he took care of you. Actually, you felt like you needed it. You saw that he was quite pleased with dealing every single detail. So when he told you to call him daddy, you did. And you soon got used to it. For this reason, he gave you your first chores: You had to take off his clothes every time he came home. Not all of them, just the jackets of his black suite, his tie, belt and watch. He said doing these things was one of the best thanks you can give to your daddy.

But someday he asked you to take off his shirt, too. You hesitated at first and gave him a confused look. "But you will be half naked."

“I know, little lady.” You froze as you kept your hands on the buttons on his collar and put your hands on his shoulders instead. You stared at him, highly confused. He smiled and gave you a small smack on the butt, making you jump. "Don't keep daddy waiting."

You slowly unbuttoned it with a whimper that escaped your mouth. Your hands were shaking and you tilted your head to avoid eye contact, but you could feel his gaze on you. He grabbed your chin and lifted your head. "Look at me."

Tears filled your eyes as you unbuttoned it by looking at him. His smile, hidden behind his intense gaze, was crushing you. He loved to lead you, no matter what. He enjoyed seeing you melt under him. He loved that you obeyed him.

He told you to look at him when he's naked. He asked you to look at his body and touch it. You didn't understand why he wanted something like that. Of course you raised your voice and asked questions, but not in an angry way, in a confused way.

"You must stop being shy around me. Touch this body and know it, feel it. I'm not a stranger, it is yours. I am yours, just as you are mine. So touch me and don't be afraid to look at me. Soon we will meet our needs. It can't wait forever."

You didn't understand what he meant by needs, but you did as he said. You touched his body with your shaky hands and brought it over his muscles. It was a very difficult and different experience for you. Being close to a body, touching it... It was something you had never experienced. But you thought it was important for the intimacy of the two of you, you had to be physically close in order for you to be close. You didn't know anything because you had no friends or no one to teach you, but you trusted Five.

When he thought it was enough, he kissed your cheek and let you go. But he called you during the shower. You asked several times if he was sure it would be okay to get in. You thought he would be in his clothes, or at least with a towel. You screamed when you saw him naked and turned around.

"It's okay, baby. Take your clothes off and come here. Daddy needs you so bad."

When you refused to go and stayed where you were, he raised his voice. It scared you. "I won't ask you again."

You had no choice but to obey. You took off your clothes and left your underwear, but he warned. "Including your cute little panties and bra."

Your cheeks burned and you hesitated, but you didn't want to make him mad. You lowered your head and were about to slowly pull your panties off when he warned you again. He took your breath away. "Look at me."

And you looked at him. Your eyes were on his firm face but seeing other parts of his body even blurred made you panic. You begged him, hoping he'd have mercy. Your voice was very shaky. A small, frightened voice compared to his clear, harsh one. "I- I'm scared. Please I-"

"No need to be scared, princess. I'm not gonna hurt you. I only want to love your beautiful body. Daddies often need to touch their little princesses. This isn't a bad thing."

You didn't want him to break his soft side, so you took off your panties and bra, in front of his crushing gaze. Covering your breasts with one arm and your pussy with your one hand, you walked over to him and turned your head to a place where you had completely taken him out of sight. He already saw your private parts, but you still wanted to cover them. "Daddy, why do you need me naked?" Your voice sounded like ready to cry.

"Look at me." His voice was hoarse. There was no room for protest in his tone, you could feel it. You turned your head to avoid testing him even more. You must have looked a little too high that you could see the shower ceiling in detail.

He grabbed your cheeks and caressed them. "You're so cute." Then he pulled you into a passionate kiss.

Your first kiss. This was your first kiss.

Your first kiss was with Five, naked, in the shower. You couldn't believe it.

When you tried to push him, he pinned you against the wall and pressed himself against you. He didn't care that you wanted to go as he bit and sucked your lips. He pinned your hands above your head with one hand and grapped your waist with the other. He kissed you like that for minutes. He grabbed your breasts and kneaded, cupped your pussy and rubbed. The sobs you gave in his mouth didn't affect him. It actually affected him differently because as your whimpers increased, his kisses and rubbings became more intense.

Later he turned your face to the wall and pulled your butt towards him. "Please don't!"

He gripped your butt tightly and kneaded it pretty hard as he leaned against you. He moaned into your ear after he kissed your neck. "You have no idea how long I needed you."

You screamed when something hard rubbed up and down in your pussy. It parted your lips and rubbed with pressure. "What's happening?"

"It's me baby, look what you do to me. Now I want you to trust me and press your legs tightly. All right, little princess? Can you do that?"

He squeezed your nipple. Trust him, trust daddy, he knows best. You slowly closed your legs and squeezed him. "More." His throbbing made you squirm. He must have liked it that he pressed himself hard against you. You had no idea why he wanted such a thing, what he was going to do.

"Now I want you to lay your back againts me and wrap your arms around my neck. Understood?"

"Daddy please..." You begged but he smack your butt.

"Understood?" He grit his teeth.

"Uh-huh." You whispered with fear.

This time he smack your butt much harder. He grabbed your hair and pulled your head back, rubbing his lips on yours. "Bad girl."

He didn't pull his lips and forced you to talk like that. Your lips tickled. "I'm sorry daddy, please, I'm so sorry." He moved away from you a little and looked at your face with a stern expression. You corrected yourself, hoping he would forgive you. "Understood, daddy."

"This was the last time you tried me. Next time I won't warn you and I'll tear your little pussy apart, understood?"

"Yes daddy." You cried more the moment he let go of your hair and pulled away from your face. Your body trembled and you couldn't breathe. You were so scared of him that you couldn't stop crying. You felt dizzy, like you were going to pass out.

He leaned your back against himself. He grabbed your chin and turned it towards him, trying to comfort you. "I hate making you cry. But you have to learn to listen to me. I love you so much, don't forget that, okay?"

"Okay daddy." You sniffed. He gently guided you to wrap your arms around his neck. Then he caressed your waist and breasts. Slowly moving himself between your legs and rubbing your pussy, he looked at his tip sticking out from between your legs.

"Now close your eyes and focus on your sweet little pussy."

As he said, you closed your eyes and tried to focus. What you felt was so weird, so different. It was something you've never experienced before. Feeling the hard and rather scary part of him between your legs, rubbing your pussy with pressure, was beyond anything you've ever felt. The way he caressed your arms, the way he brought his face to your cheek and gave his warm breath on you, the growls that escaped his mouth, and the way his hands kneaded your body, all gave you weird feelings. You didn't know what he was doing to your body. Your pussy was burning, begging for something to happen, but you didn't know what. You threw your head back and moaned.

"Good girl." He held your neck and kissed your lips. The pleasure he gave you left you so vulnerable. The slippery sounds that came out as he moved filled your ears. "So wet, I can feel you clenching. Such a good girl."

He grabbed your hips from both sides and pressed it tightly against himself. "Focus and stay put." He slammed into your butt as he pushed himself forward, filling the area with clap sounds. Your moans broke into shaky pieces and echoed from all sides. You arched your back even more and focused on the rapidly increasing sensation.

"Yeah! Yeah, good girl." He was out of breath. You weren't the only one with good feelings. You thought he'd lost his mind as he dipped his fingers in in your skin. "Such a good girl."

"Why do I feel-"

"Cum for me."

You screamed as he let go of your hips and squeezed your breasts painfully. He immediately softened his grip and apologized over and over in a whisper, but his hold was still firm. He was hitting you so hard and fast that it burned from the contact between your butt and legs. Your growing feelings were no longer stoppable, you were close to giving whatever he asked of you. Very close. Your legs closed even more, your body strained. Your lips parted even more as you arched your back as hard as you could, you started to shake as something exploded inside. Your moans were loud. Five kissed you over and over again saying what a good girl you were. He never stopped saying how wonderful your clenches you sent around him.

"Get on your knees."

Even if he was the one who gave you the order, as soon as he said he grabbed your arms and turned you towards him. He placed a hard kiss on your lips, then pressed you to the floor. Face-to-face with his cock made you jump back in fear, but he held you steady. "Take it in your mouth."

"Daddy..." You were still trembling slightly and your eyes were closing because of the sensitivity between your legs.

He grabbed your hair and slapped you on the cheek with his cock. He slapped you on both cheeks a few more times, then rubbed it on your face and pressed it to your lips. "Believe me, I'll hurt you if I do. Don't test my patience, babygirl."

You nodded immediately and apologized. You let out a whinper as your trembling hands touched him, which you thought Five liked because he patted your head. You wrapped both of your hands around him and slowly took the tip into your mouth. You didn't know what to do, or why you were doing it. But you had to. You were his good girl.

When you took him in your mouth, he threw his head back and moaned loudly. The hand holding your hair tightened and pushed you a little towards him. "Suck it. I wanna feel that warm little tongue of yours."

You did as he said but you were too slow and gentle for fear of hurting him. You panicked when he pressed your head against him. You let go of your hands holding him and leaned against his legs. You tried to pull yourself back but he was moving your head back and forth. You hit his legs in panic, coughed a little and sobbed breathlessly before he pulled you back. You were so miserable, frightened, small and shaky.

"I'm so sorry." After giving you a few more seconds to catch your breath, he pushed himself and kept abusing your mouth. "I'm so close baby, just hold on."

You closed your teary eyes and begged it to end as soon as possible. He held your head tightly as he started throbbing in your mouth and warned you. "Hold your breath, babygirl. I know you can take me." And then he poured himself into your mouth. It was too much, you thought you would choke, and it was salty. You didn't know how long you could hold your breath and you hit his legs. But he held you steady and throbbing out more cum. His moans echoed throughout the shower. You hit his legs more, couldn't take it anymore. You had to drink some of his cum as he held your head a little more still. When he finally pulled you back, he immediately covered your mouth. "Swallow."

You swallowed quickly in hopes of catching your breath, and you coughed wildly when he took his hand away from your mouth. You put your hands on the floor and sobbed as you cried. Without waiting too long, he took you in his arms and carried you to the bathtub. He prepared warm water after he put you in it and said what a good girl you were that day as he gently washed you. "I'm so proud of you. You satisfied your daddy so, so well. I knew my beautiful little princess would take me that well."

After washing you, he took you to bed and dressed you in your favorite color. Your skirt was too short and you had no panties on yet. You sighed as you waited for him to put your panties on you. Your body was still shaking from what you had just experienced. He stopped when he was about to put on the panties, he threw it over your head. He lifted your legs and bent them towards you. He knealed before the bed and kissed your sensitive spot softly, then licked all over your pussy. "You're like a candy."

He moved his tongue very slowly. He let his hot breath burn your pussy as he licked and grabbed your breast. He was slow, pressing specifically on your sensitive spot and not forgetting to lick your slit. Then he started to suck the most sensitive part of your poor little pussy mercilessly. You screamed and writhed on the bed and asked him to stop, but he brought the hand that was holding your breast to your neck and held you fixed. Crying, you grabbed his wrist and crushed under his strong tongue blows. He didn't leave you, he never broke contact with you. Her growls vibrated and you arched your back as he savored your pussy. It was about to happen again. You were about to experience that feeling again.

He pulled his hand away from your neck and pulled you closer by your legs to fit his position better. You pushed your hips to his face and moaned shakily as the vibration filled your entire body. The sounds he made while drinking your juice were so dirty, so shameless. It was his physical way to say that you were delicious when he ripped you apart with his mouth.

After the first sexual activity you experienced, Five's physical interaction to you highly increased. Sitting on his lap, he cupped your pussy and kneaded your breasts, waking you by licking or rubbing your pussy while you were asleep, asking you to hand job him...

He told you many times what a good girl you were and gave you several rewards. Coloring books, toys, dolls, cute clothes, jewelry and much more. "My rule is actually very simple. Be my good little princess and I'll make you very happy."

You did whatever he said to prove you were a good girl. Even when he wants to bottle-feed you. He basically wanted to be in control of everything about you because you were too naive to do and figure anything out on your own. So he picked you up, rested your head on his shoulder, and brought the bottle to your lips. "You'll make daddy so proud if you drink it all."

You started to feel very different as time went on. Weaker, more scared and more needy than ever before. It's like you've been out of your mind since he started bottle-feeding you. When you tried to explain it to him, he silenced you and patted your head. "My little baby's dreaming again. Don't be afraid, princess. I'll protect you. Just do as I say." And what he said was staying in your playroom all the time, playing, feeding from the bottle, taking a nap, sitting on his lap, taking him in your mouth... It was like you were being deliberately held back when you could move forward.

And you noticed something. Five would never leave you even if you wanted to. He constantly told you how much you were in danger and how much you needed him, "You need me, you can't survive without me". But in time, you saw that there were different reasons behind it. His obsession with you. His desire to possess you. He thought he owned you.

You were already weak when you wanted to escape. It wasn't the kind of weakness you felt before, it was the kind of weakness that made you want to sit on his lap and sleep. Or the kind that made you want to cry when he patted your head and told you what a good girl you were. Your muscles were also very weak. You had trouble walking, so you were usually sitting all the time. You could only ask Five to walk you around. Even speaking was hard.

After he had you completely in his claws, you paid attention to the red flags and tried to crawl out of the room. You were extremely late, there wasn't even a little chance to run. But you had to try. You had a hard time trying to open the door, you were about to make it. But he jumped behind you and looked at you with his arms put together on his chest. He tilted his head and threw one leg forward, a questioning expression on his face. "What is my princess up to?"

You looked at him with a fearful expression. Before you could explain himself, he picked you up and jumped into the bedroom. "You know, I've always wanted to taste deep inside your little pussy, but I thought you weren't ready for it yet. And I didn't want to rush it. Every moment with you is too precious for me to rush. But I think you're ready now, don't you think?"

He threw you on the bed and loosened his tie. His hair was falling into his eyes, and the sleeves of his white shirt were folded. The veins on his hands were reaching up to his arms. He didn't unbutton his black vest, but unbuttoned the first buttons of his shirt. He took off his tie and leaned you, tying your wrists. You apologized crying but he didn't listen to you. "You're a very naughty princess."

He sat on the bed and laid you facedown on his knee. He pulled your tiny skirt up to your waist and kneaded your cheeks, which exposed from the sides of your little panties. You screamed to his quick smack. "Were you trying to escape?"

"No!" You begged and he just hit harder.

"Liar." He smacked you on each cheek twenty times, very hard, and laid you on the bed. Your butt was burning and your throat was sore from crying. The smell of alcohol on him filled your lungs as he kissed you. He wasn't completely drunk, but he was definitely more impulsive. You didn't have the strength to protest as he took off your clothes. You could only cry and apologize.

When you were naked, he took off his top and unbuttoned his pants. He hit your pussy with his hard cock a few times and fixed himself in your entrance. "You actually deserve me to fuck you like that. Dry and totally unprepared. No foreplay, no eating you out and putting you in the mood. Just me and my pleasure."

He pushed himself a little and listened to your painful sobs. He wasn't even inside yet. "What am I going to do with you huh? You deserve a good punishment, but I don't want your first time to be like this."

He gave a nervous laugh and pinched your cheeks. He leaned closer to your pursed lips and looked into your watery eyes. "Brat. You're so lucky that I love you."

The smell of alcohol was intense. He kissed your lips, then stepped back and cupped your breasts. He tortured your nipples with his tongue, sucked and made you scream. You didn't know how long he played with your breasts, but when he finally let go, your nipples were super sensitive. He gripped your legs aggressively and buried his head in your pussy. Tongue thrusts pointed straight at your sensitive spot. He was so intense that the feelings you didn't want started pouring into your body quickly. He lifted his head, put his hand there and rubbed it. "Already wet. You're a needy little baby and yet you're trying to escape from me."

He placed your legs on his shoulders and rubbed the tip of his cock against your slippery pussy. "I think this foreplay is more than enough for a naughty and liar princess like you."

You grabbed his shoulders as he pushed himself and begged him to stop. He was slow but you thought he wasn't slow enough. You were so scared, and it hurt so much the more he got inside. You sobbed pathetically as your walls clenched like crazy around him. "P-please don't!"

He threw his head back and moaned. "I can't believe I've delayed this feeling for so long." You could feel something dripping on the bed while he was moving at a slow pace. Probably blood?

"It hurts, I'm so scared daddy!"

Five kept moving and smacked you in the butt. "You should take your punishment like a good little girl."

Your grip was too small for his cock. You could actually feel your grip moving around him as he went in and out. Your cries were music to his ears, he didn't hear your beggings. He just moaned and watched how your breasts bounced with each his thrust. After a while he turned you around and pressed your face against the bed, lifting your butt. That's when he fucked you really hard. Clapping sounds filled the entire room, your skin burned so bad and Five's constant smacks didn't help your cries. Your voice was now rather low, like a pathetic whisper. A whisper that satisfied Five. He smacked your butt for perhaps the hundredth time and pulled your hair. He gave his drunk breath to your neck. "Who do you belong to?"

"To you, daddy."

"I'll paint your tight little walls with my hot cum, so maybe you'll know better who you belong to."

He let go of your hair and buried his fingers to your skin. He was so hard and fast that your moans were cut and you gasped. When he gave his final thrust, you listened his growls. You could feel him throbbing inside you, slowly pushing himself a few more times and grabbing your hair again, bringing his face towards you. He rubbed his teeth and licked your neck, placing watery kisses. After licking your cheek, he blew his hot breath and spoke breathlessly into your ear. "My naughty princess needs much stricter rules from now on."

There was no escape from him. You couldn't help but wonder if you'd have a life where you didn't end with him. Maybe there was a way to prevent his obsession from developing. Maybe he would leave you alone. But deep inside you knew, no matter what, he would still find you and get you.

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justasimp1 · 2 years

Text

Five Hargreeves x F! Reader

Smut

Retired

"You're room is...interesting" You stepped into the hotel room, looking at the weird setup, non matching sheets. Five groaned, turning around on the bottom bunk. "Are you sleeping?" You smirked, looking at his shirt tossed on the floor.

"I'm taking my time off from this nonsense" Five yawned before parking his head up to the door. "How you'd get in I thought I locked the door?" "Luther was going to lose the key so I took it" You turned around, putting the dead bolt into place.

You walked over to his bed. Five scooted to the side so you can slip inside the bed. You laid next to him, turning to face him. "What if everything isn't okay?" You whispered. Five groaned, covering his ears. "Five just hear me out- when we came here I think I felt another force-"

Five cupped your cheeks, pulling your face on his. His tongue poked along the bottom of your lips. You moaned in the kiss, gripping the sheets. "Can you feel this?" Five sighed, bringing your hand down to his throbbing tent.

You narrowed your eyes at Five. "I'm serious Five! Something is off" You muttered, eyeing how he inched forward to your lips. You noticed the look in his eyes as he caressed your side. "Maybe I'm a little paranoid" You sighed, a smile cracking on your face when Five hummed in agreement.

He kissed along your neck. "Just relax" Five pulled your hips into his. You whimpered, feeling his hand crawling up your inner thigh, pushing away the hem of your skirt. The sensitive sensation sparked a light in your veins.

"Keep going" Your tense muscles loosened into the mattress. Five continued rubbing on the damp slit on your undergarment. His mouth moved down your neckline and to your abdomen. "Shit" You groaned feeling his fingers dipped into your hole and his lips wrapped around your clit.

Your legs melted like butter, opening wide for Five. Five chuckled in response, his finger stretching deeper within you. You massaged his brown hair, lightly moaning his name. Every touch felt like an electrical current surging through your flesh.

You legs began to shake, trying to hold up from the powerful sensation. Five kept sucking on your drench flesh while keeping his fingers at a steady pace.

It was all going good until a pounding knock came from the door. Five halted, pulling away. "Hey man can you open the door! I think I lost the key" Luther mumbled. "Also get your ass out here, we need to make a plan to get those broken wing bastards back" Diego turned the doorknob frantically.

"Hey Diego, I just spent the last 20 days saving the world twice. Can I get five minutes to relax?" Five grumbled. Diego's boots echoed down the hall. "And alone Luther" Five added, shaking his head. "Right..." Luther's heavy footsteps pounded down the hotel's hallway.

You sat up, kissing Five. "You're right, you literally saved all our asses. You should be relaxing...alone" You grinned. "Thanks for the offer, darling. But I'd rather be spending the time with you" Five laughed, kissing you back while pushing you back into the sheets.

You accepted his advances by opening your legs once again. Five unbuckled his belt, pulling down the zipper. You closed your eyes, looking up. Your vision danced with blank spots as you felt the girthy penetration.

"It's like you're growing but your appearance stays the same" You slowly blinked away stray tears. "Should that be a compliment?" Five hissed as he pushed more into you. You put a hand around his neck, pulling him closer.

His tongue dashed into your mouth, making you choke. "You're so pretty" Five whimpered from your touch, leaning into your grasp on his neck. "And so are you, lover boy" You rolled your hips, feeling his length prod at your walls.

Five stabled himself over your hips, his hands clutching on the fragile skin, his fingernails dug into your skin as he pulled you forward. You moaned his name like a spell. "Fuck" Five felt himself go weak after hearing the wails coming from your mouth.

Five pushed himself in, his balls touching your ass. He thrust rapidly, his aching tip painting precum within your hole. Wet slaps filled the room. The heat seemed to consume the atmosphere. A thin film of sweat coated your body.

A burning passion seemed to fuel your mind. You could speak as Five kept pounding into you with no mercy. Your hips started to cramp as he kept your legs spread on display.

Colors flooded your eyes along with water brimming to the edge. Pleasure-filled sobs came from you as you held onto the rocking mattress. The bunk bed's screws would creak every time Five go too hard.

"Does it feel good?" Five whispered, pushing your legs back into their suffering position. You nodded, feeling your mouth run dry. Your eyes followed the light crease running down Five's abs.

You saw the ring of slick coating his shaft. You moaned at Five pulling out, rubbing his leaking tip on your clit in a fast circular motion. You threw your head back, cursing underneath your breath.

Five could allow this agony to go on forever. "I need to cum, please" You sighed, arching your back once he enters again. "You should've just said so" Five blew loose strands from his face.

He pulled your hips into him, repeatedly. Your breast bounced with the action. A tight bundle curled in your stomach. You closed your eyes, searching for the right nerves to get triggered.

Five applied pressure to your clit. His thumb nudged the bud further to your climax. "Oh, shit" Five whimpered, his thrust shuddering. He placed an arm by your head to prop himself up. His warm load shot out, glazing your velvety flesh in white.

His soft moans were all you need to convulse on his cock. You're own sticky white poured out of your hole, dripping into other fluids soiling the sheets. Five kissed your forehead, laying down on your chest. He nuzzled his head into your warmth.

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time" Five muttered. Your eyes widened in shock at how long it's been since you've had intercourse with him. "I love you" Five mumbled. You squirmed feeling his semen drip out of your hole.

"I love you too but can we get cleaned up" You giggled, kissing Five's forehead.

Masterlist

#fanfic #x reader #fluff #smut #five hargreeves smut #five hargreeves x reader #five x reader #number five x reader #the unbrella academy #unbrella academy smut #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreves fluff #five hargeves x reader smut

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bookishgalaxies · 29 days

Note

Hi! Can you do a five hargreeves x reader where the readers quiet but really good at hand to hand combat? If you don’t want to do it you don’t even have to respond

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤

☾☼✧☽ summary: thoughts on five hargreeves with an s/o who’s quiet but is killer at hand to hand combat.

☾☼✧☽ pairing: five hargreeves x gn!shy!reader

☾☼✧☽ type: head-cannons, not proofread

☾☼✧☽ warnings: fighting???

☾☼✧☽ a/n: love this request! Thank you so much!

▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢

You spoke when spoken to, with the exceptions of conversation with Five Hargreeves, which were still very minimal

You two had only been “together” for a few months now and your brain was still getting used to forming full sentences while looking at him.

For awhile you and Five were only able to communicate through letters due to his work with the commission

After he stopped working for them, and started saving the world with his siblings though, things were different

You most of the time kept to yourself when you weren’t helping the Hargreeves save the world

You would go out for smoothies with Viktor or help Allison with Claire occasionally.

And you could become quite chatty with them, but not Five

He hadn’t meant to assume that since you didn’t talk much, you were shy, and therefor timid in physical fighting situations

It just kind of clicked in his mind like that without him realizing.

So when you two were out one day at the doughnut shop getting him a black coffee and you whatever you normally get

You weren’t expecting a surprise attack from the Commission

You had both been sitting across from each other in a booth by the window

Letting Five talk quietly about what his next plan was and nodding your head while smiling kindly

Enjoying the view of how he looked in the afternoon sun

Then, glass shattered, and in an instant you were up and headed towards the sound.

Five teleported across the shop as you landed a good punch across the agents face.

Exchanging punches and strikes, you took him down quite quickly.

Moving on to the next few, you took them out under ten seconds.

Five was so shocked he stood by, mouth agape.

Looking up at his surprised look, you stood with knocked out bodies around you, breathing heavily and looking at him.

“I didn’t know you could…..” he trailed off

“You never asked.” You responded

“Touché.”

Needless to say, he never underestimated you again.

And actually felt himself develop a healthy fear of you.

Pretty AND deadly…...

He never needed to get on your bad side, he’d be screwed

▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢

thank you so much for reading !!

remember to stay safe and hydrated !!

#five x reader #tua☁️#five hargreeves x reader #tua season 3 #tua hc #tua netflix #tua x reader #five hargreeves #number five #number five x reader #five x y/n #five x you #five hargreeves x you

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yanderetheumbrellaacademy · 4 months

Note

crying because i always have imagined when writing reader x five was for reader to be a stoner and five just rolls his eyes and stops them from getting high regularly

five : is that a cigarette?

reader : noooo…. its klaus’ cigarette…..

five : give me the cig.

reader : cmonnnnn whats better then being high? you????

five : [sigh] ask yourself that, hand it over.

Been in the drafts since July.... 2022

Five didn't want you to end up like his brother. He saw how it destroyed his brother's life and he would be damned if he'd let you go down that same path. He may not have been able to stop his brother from falling into that pit, but he sure as hell will help you.

Klaus indulges/enables you, which annoys Five to no end. He tries to keep you away from Klaus and have as few interactions with him as possible. He doesn't know how to express his emotions/feelings, so he has a hard time expressing himself to you and telling you he worries about you. You think he's being aggressive when in reality that's his way of showing he cares.

Whenever he catches you smoking with Klaus, he's quick to put a stop to it and pretty much scold you like a child. You are never alone with Klaus; Five is always there, no matter where you are. When Klaus does end up getting better, Five is more than excited, because for whatever reason you look up to Klaus and will take after him.

#yandere five hargreeves x reader #yandere five x reader #yandere five hargreeves #five hargreeves #five x reader #yandere number 5 #number 5 x reader #number 5 #five hargreeves x reader #yandere five #tua #number five x reader #five #number five #klaus hargreeves #drabble

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kaybreezy3000 · 1 month

Text

Five is your employer and he's not happy with you. As the night unfolds, you have a very unexpected encounter with him...

~Rated somewhere between G and Mature because, like many of my stories, you can easily skip the sexually explicit parts. (see notes)

This story takes place where we left off with season three, but 5 years later. The name is a nod to hints of what might be coming, though I doubt the Netflix writers are going with my little storyline I have created for you.

~This one is sort of gift to all fanfiction readers and writers. May you always keep passwords on our documents and devices, or maybe not... 😂👌

Warnings: Mildly sexual themes in the middle. This does turn sexually explicit in the second half, but you don't need to read that part to enjoy the story and there is a warning when that starts if you aren't into all that stuff.

(8,711 words)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'Hargreeves home for wayward boys'

It was the end of the day and the Hargreeves family had all disappeared. You knew they were somewhere privately hashing things out, but as just a lowly intern working on their project, staying for that to happen was not necessary. They would call you later to give their decision and then you’d submit the order.

Speaking of which, your phone rang with a call from your boss and it distracted you as you were collecting your things. Arms full and not realizing you had forgotten something, you used your backend to bump open the large doors of the Umbrella Academy. The doors clicked closed behind you and you walked out into the refreshingly cool evening air.

Downstairs in the musty kitchen, Allison threw her head back, letting out a tired sigh before saying, “Guys, arguing is getting us nowhere. We need to end this debate. The order needs to be placed today or we won’t have the sign back when the masons are scheduled to be here to install it.”

Viktor set his empty mug on the counter next to a pair of Grace’s discarded rubber dishwashing gloves. “Why don’t we just vote on it?” he proposed, uneasily glancing at Five.

“I say we go with ‘The Hargreeves Home for Wayward Boys,” Diego loudly declared while raising his arm high, to which the rest of the Hargreeves abruptly raised their hands, making it a unanimous vote, if not for Five, sitting forward with his head in his hands and his elbows on the kitchen table as he venomously glared at all of them.

Five locked eyes with Luther. “Really?” he snapped.

His brother nervously smiled. “Ah… Sorry. I changed my mind, buddy.”

“Don’t call me buddy.” Five angrily shook his head. “You changed your mind, huh? Sorry to inform you but clearly this one doesn’t work any better!”

Not getting Five’s belittling joke, Luther looked to Ben who silently rolled his eyes for about the hundredth time in the last hour.

“And you,” Five roared, pointing his finger at him. “You had shown signs of intelligence but now I have my doubts. Maybe if you keep rolling your eyes like that you might find evidence of a brain up there. This name doesn’t even make any sense! We aren’t just admitting boys!”

“Sure it does,” Lila disagreed. “You’re the only one who doesn’t think so but that’s because it’s very hard for children to think clearly when they haven’t had their nap. Should we call Grace to fetch your blankie and to make your bottle so you can go to bed early?”

Five balled his hand into fists under the table. “You should use glue instead of Chapstick. I hear it does wonders for making you more tolerable to be around,” he childishly shot back to which Lila merely laughed at him. “So, this is it…nobody else thinks that name sounds awful?” he hissed at anyone still looking at him.

Getting up with a loud squeal of his wooden chair leg on the cracked linoleum flooring, Klaus patted Five on the upper back, but his brother jerked away from the gesture. “Oh, come on, Five,” he said followed by an airy laugh. “It’s perfect. Even that cute intern upstairs thought so. After we gave her the low down dirty-dirty on our real family history, she’s the one that came up with it.”

Five scowled even more.

“Ahhh,” Diego obliviously sighed. “Things are finally coming together with this project and I’m feeling a Hargreeves style celebration coming on.” He draped his arm around the back of Lila’s chair looking at her, but she was too busy smirking at Five’s increasingly animated display of sour expressions.

“Let’s all go out!” Klaus excitedly added. “I know a great place for karaoke.” Five got up, slinging his suit coat over his shoulder as he started to walk away but Klaus snatched his arm. “Hold it! You’re coming with us.”

Five swifty swatted his hand away, distastefully brushing his brother’s invisible fingerprints from the crisp sleeve of his white dress shirt. “I’d rather shove a pinecone up my ass and let it sit in there until it dissolved than have to be in the presence of all of you for even five more minutes,” he smoothly retorted while flipping up his cuff to check the time.

Klaus’s bright eyes grew wide with glee. “If you are looking for things to shove up your ass, I can think of way more painfully pleasant options. Come on, let me tell you all about it while we decide where we are going to eat.”

Skirting around the table, Five dodged Klaus before he could put an arm around him to drag him in with the rest of the group who were now talking about dinner plans and the epic songs they were going to belt out later.

After breaking away and muttering under his breath that they were all a bunch of idiots, Five slowly wandered up the stairs. With his fists firmly jammed in his pockets and his shoulders inclined forward, his gaze remained empty though his thoughts were anything but.

After making numerous other suggestions, they had all disregarded his concerns, just like they always did. Whether it was trying to help them avoid apocalyptic ends or simply being somewhere at a specific time to save their own asses, he never could win in this family.

Five cringed as he thought about the name they wanted to use and what it was really referring to.

He was the embodiment of the wayward boy in his family’s less than glorious story. Worst yet, the nod to Homer’s Odyssey, being that it was a narrative Reginald had forced them to remember by heart, was just one of the millions of reasons why, in his head, this was a horrible choice.

That man was an evil incarnate, and Five may have for a time wanted his love and acceptance or even in the very least, his recognition, but he never got them. They’d been used and dumped in a new world without their powers, but at least they had been left with their identities and their childhood home, but those days of bowing to that vile alien parading around as a man were long gone. Five did not want to be associated in any way with Reginald Hargreeves and that title for their new foundation did just that.

“How could they not see that?” he asked himself, trying to work through all this but coming up with nothing other than they were morons. “The last name Hargreeves was already on half the buildings in the city!” he shouted to no one, his voice getting eaten up in the long corridor as his dress shoes stomped along the black and white tiled floor.

As Five watched his siblings raise their hands in favor of the symbolic title, he felt even more set apart from them than he ever had. That feeling wasn’t anything new, and there were many reasons for it, but today, he’d had enough of them not listening to him and he wasn’t about to let this one go until he’d tried one more avenue of attack.

Tromping through the foyer, thinking he’d see you or the lead designer, Five glanced inside the formal dining room but neither of you were there. Looking over the stacks of blueprints on the table, Five spotted your laptop. It was lying among the other items strewn in the large mess but your coat and bag that had been hanging on the back of the chair were gone. Thinking you must have forgotten it and that you had gone for the day, he picked up the streamlined electronic device and carried it with him out of the room.

He’d been dying to lay into you for convincing his family that this asinine idea was the way to go. Sadly, since you weren’t there, that would have to wait and that left him in no better mood, but as he carried your laptop down the hall, he was quickly developing a new plan.

Thinking of you, Five could just see you looking at him like you always did-cautiously but kindly.

You were always professional and extra nice to him in your interactions, despite him being dismissively rude at times. You’d laugh off his detached behavior and truthfully, he didn’t mind the sound of it, or your sweet smiles, or how your legs looked under your many short skirts and smart little slingback heels. He’d never let himself do more than appreciate the view when you weren’t looking, and he’d thought you were about as harmless as a chipmunk marinated in fertilizer that was walking sideways.

He was wrong on that, and worse yet, he simply didn’t get you and Five did not like when he didn’t understand things.

His lips pulled to the side as he noted your almost unnatural ability to remain persistently positive when working with a bunch of ridiculous assholes. Looking past some of your more appealing qualities, he quickly concluded that you were about as stupid and fake as fake could get.

You had stepped on the wrong man’s toes and this meant war.

With steam practically billowing out his ears over how mad he was at you, Five became absorbed in the thought of pissing some of his own mocking sunshine into your Clever Crisp cereal and he knew just the way to do it and get rid of you.

“Perfect fucking idea my ass,” he said through clenched teeth as his diabolical grin spread.

Five opened Reginald’s old office door and flopped down at the large mahogany desk. Flipping the laptop open, he flexed his fingers, his eyes roaming over the keys as the screen came to life.

They could call the design team and tell them the decision was made, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something about it and make it look like you were the one that fucked things up, which as an added bonus that would probably get you fired.

If the very expensive stone signage they were ordering came and didn’t say what his family had wanted it to say, at that point, you’d be in deep shit, and he’d simply look the other way feigning innocence. He’d argue that at that point it was an issue of money and managing their extremely tight budget, so, to be sensible, they should just go with it as is-which would be his title of choice.

To Five, this was a win-win. Nosy intern fired, and no more demeaning name that was a reference to him hanging above the academy’s front door.

It was a simple matter of typing in his idea in the order form, and sitting in front of him was the means to do it. Call or no call, he’d send this in first. The work would get started and it would be too late.

Five was no hacker but over the last few years of being holed up at the Umbrella Academy due to having to live the life of a shut-in teenager again, he’d learned a thing or two about modern tech. With a few clicks, he was into your files.

“Where is it?” he hummed as his eyes ran over the images of little manila folders. There were tons of them and the way you had them labeled was not helping.

Clicking on one that appeared to have image files attached to it had seemed logical since he was looking for a mockup of the graphic design they’d be using going forward for all their letterhead and signage.

“Shit,” Five scoffed as he saw tiny blips of hundreds of your personal photos. These had nothing to do with what he needed and that also meant this computer was not just something you used for work. He was just about to close the file since it was obviously personal in nature but then an image of you when you were slightly younger caught his eye.

Your cheeks were a little bit rounder and your hair a little longer. When he clicked on the next shot and it was one where you were on some kind of vacation and you were wearing a swimsuit, he leaned forward.

He stared at the picture, suddenly intrigued. Opening more pictures, Five realized that same bright smile of yours never faltered in any one of the shots.

It had never crossed his mind that he’d see anything personal while he was digging through your computer, but here it all was and all he had to do was open the files because you foolishly didn’t password protect them.

Driven by curiosity and with nothing else to do for the night, Five dug deeper into your world. He found files with old college assignments which he skimmed over with only moderate interest. Then, clicking on a folder that seemed harmlessly titled, he found himself completely distracted, all at once, totally forgetting what he’d been searching for.

Five scooched even closer to the screen.

The first file he opened was relatively small and he read through it quickly. It was written like some sort of story, or more like part of one. It was about a man that found himself in a version of his body that was much younger looking than he should be. Miraculously he had been through hell and back, and mentally he was much older than he looked, but outwardly he didn’t look any older than his physical age of eighteen. The details of how this all came to be weren’t in this part of her story, but Five immediately recognized the familiarity of the storyline, and he instantly started plowing through the other files in that folder in a sudden need to know what else you’d written.

The files were like snippets of a larger story, not yet fully written or interconnected the way a novel would be, but all of them involved the same two characters, and the scenes were incredibly familiar but also not. Changes to how they actually occurred in real life were subtle enough to make what he was reading fiction, but the similarities were what agitated him and had his defenses on high alert. Even more than that, the male character in your writings was a perfect description of him in all but his name, and the female, though barely described, very much resembled you.

The story laid out that the male character was the infamously lost son of a very wealthy man whose influence held the entire world by the throat. After appearing out of the blue on the doorstep of his family home after years of being missing, this boy chose to keep to himself but that didn’t mean people weren’t aware he was back.

He intentionally carried himself apart from all others, always dressed impeccably, with his dark hair neatly smoothed to one side. He was cold and calculating and always moved with intent, brooding in his mannerisms, but the female in the story also described him as so breathtakingly handsome when he thought no one was looking and he dared to crack a smile.

“She thinks I’m handsome…?” Five breathed as he read on.

The female narrator went on to say, ‘It turned out, that he could storm around the near empty academy all day if he wanted, or even call the president and claim that he was now a 59-year-old man, but sadly that didn’t mean a thing if you had no proof and you looked like a murderously feral kid parading around in your fancy big boy clothes.’

Five’s stomach dropped through the floor. There was no way this wasn’t about him, and you weren't even trying to hide it!

Talking to a character that was said to be one of this tragic figure’s brother’s, the female in the story was told that the boy had no other choice but to abide by laws of normal men unless he wanted to risk the state forcing him into the foster system or worse. All this left him with little choice and a very bad taste in his mouth and he’d been lashing out for years with vengeance about it, ironically acting just like the temperamental teenager he appeared to be..

By the time the woman in the story had come to work for him, years had passed and this character was technically not a kid anymore. Again, because he was too proud to move in with any of his siblings, he’d served his time living behind the walls of the academy his family owned, but those difficult days were no more. It was time to move on, but the female character could see that for all her employer’s outward confidence, the man inside the boy wasn’t sure how to do that.

He still hadn’t found his place in the world. He lived in limbo, completely alone, other than the presence of a robot housekeeper that he called Grace and his siblings still called mom.

He went out but did not act as someone would who was his outward age, yet it wasn’t really his fault because he couldn’t partake in what those his real age did. He dressed like a man on a mission though he had no reason to anymore. Three-piece suits on a teenager and his smug expressions and even more caustically biting words weren’t gaining him any friends on his daily outings or within the tight circle of those he trusted and called family.

The female narrator said, outwardly, he was one thing, but inside, he felt like a joke.

His sharp green eyes spoke of his true age and the trauma of the life he’d lived, but he kept himself in check most of the time, never letting his guard down or letting anyone in for fear that they would see how much he suffered and still does.

Despite his cruelties to even her, the female protagonist said she saw right through him and under all of it was some very special. She said he was worthy of so much more than he was letting himself have.

“What the fuck? What the hell does she mean by special and worthy of more? My life is just fine!” Five fumed.

Five wasn’t just furious about this, he was confused. It didn’t seem like you were trying to actually write a book since none of this it was in any form of order, but he was stumped as to why else you’d be writing such things other than to exploit him somehow and make money by trying to sell some bullshit tell-all story about his fucked-up life.

He shook with fury, his knuckles white as he clenched the wooden armrests on Reginald’s old high back chair.

You had called him out but did so safely from his pretend female’s perspective.

You said this male’s lack of interest in others was just a way to hide how vulnerable and lonely he truly felt!

You said that all his arrogance and cocky remarks were nothing more than a sign that he was desperate for love that he’d never been given, and now didn’t know how to reach for.

You said you felt bad for him!

“I don’t need her fucking sympathy!” Five seethed as he angrily clicked on another much longer file in your writing folder.

Right off, he could tell this one was much different than the others he’d read about your daily exchanges in this fictional yet not fictional narrative you’d been writing about him.

It was set in the same work setting, set in the large manor that the deceptively young male lived. The characters were in a richly decorated office, with dark paneled walls and low light filtering in from the setting sun bleeding through the stained-glass windowpanes. You didn’t need to say this was once this man’s notoriously cruel father’s office for Five to know you were trying to describe the room he was sitting in right now.

The male was sitting in the regal looking chair behind the desk, smug as ever as he stared at the girl. His cool, calculating eyes devoured the entire length of her legs while he slowly but deliberately pushed them apart at the knees, spreading them wide as she submissively sat on the desk in front of him.

Five’s breath hitched as that line and the images described in it played over and over in his head like a naughty ping pong ball.

That saucy passage was Five’s first indication that this story was not like the others and that what he was about to read was not going to be at all like what he’d read so far.

This had turned into some kind of fictional love affair.

Itching heat started to crawl up Five’s neck once he reached the third paragraph and the first lines of dialogue were laid out with perfect effect.

With this male shamelessly observing that under her skirt, the girl was not wearing any panties, she grinned and playfully purred, “You can have me any way you want…”

From there, the two characters proceeded to take things to a place between them that Five had never considered until it was literally being spelled out for him.

As Five read on, parts of him were waking up that had nothing to do with his anger concerning you. The document he was reading was essentially like taking a very seductive trip inside your mind and maybe even more surprising, seeing something that was inside his. It was a firsthand description of how you really saw him, what you wanted from him, and maybe even more scandalously what you wanted to do to him.

Five was not familiar with this kind of writing and the only way he could describe it was explicit, with the descriptions of what was going on being detailed enough that he read the words with a slightly gapped mouth and a rapidly quickening pulse.

The previous files he’d read had focused on emotional and psychological themes, making the barefaced sexual purpose of this one all that much more of a shock. He had no idea you were attracted to him and found his appearance and flippantly dickish behavior so appealing.

If he’d thought you made no sense before, but now he was beyond baffled by you.

As the scene he read moved past him pleasuring you, on to your character kneeling down on the floor between his legs as he confidently opened his pants and he told you to get to work, Five took in a long, deep breath. He reactively moved his hand over the heat between his legs, his palm pressing down the hard length beginning to make itself known under the tightening stretch of fabric covering him.

In spite of his flawlessly pale skin, Five was typically not the type to blush, but by the time he was done reading your story, he felt like his face was on fire and his body was going to spontaneously combust. Unable to stop himself, Five began to more intently rub the aroused flesh hidden under the wool of his pants.

He started reading the story again, and he was so taken by it all that he didn’t hear you walking down the hall.

“Oh, there it is,” you said as you walked in and saw the back of your laptop sitting in front of the last person you had figured you see with it. To make it more bizarre, you didn’t remember leaving it in there and Five was looking at it with the most intense expression you’d ever seen grace his sharply expressive features.

With worry hitting you with the unforgiving force of a tanker truck, you rushed around the large piece of furniture separating you to see what had captured his attention so fully that he only just now looked up at you, finally registering that you were there.

With his hands flying up from his lap, Five tried to clear the screen.

Seeing the title to your very, very naughty story about him on the autosave line, you shrieked out a plethora of swear words, some which you just made up on the fly. Five was sure to have never heard some of your more imaginative curses prior to that moment, but you were pretty sure their meaning was not lost on him based on how he was backing away from you.

You slammed the laptop closed. Then you covered your face with your hands and started pacing as you incoherently mumbled.

Through the cracks between your fingers, you could see that Five was clearly stunned by what had just transpired. He looked like his brain had stopped working, which was impressive since he was a proven genius.

Great. You broke the poor man and all it took was literarily getting your fuck on with him!

Then, instead of flipping out, to your surprise, Five said your name. It came out so soft and unsure and nothing like the way he normally spoke to you. It was the first time he’d ever acknowledged that he knew your name. You had thought that to him, you were just another nameless person they’d hired.

Hearing it, you dropped your hands, revealing a face so red that it only made your body’s less than desirable response accelerate even more, and then you got redder.

Not sure what to say, your next words burst from your mouth. “You must think I am a perverted weirdo! I swear I am not… It’s just…a silly hobby. I- I write things to get them out of my head and I always delete them. I wasn’t going to-"

You didn’t know how to explain yourself, so you squeezed your eyes shut rather than take another second of him sitting there, still as a statue, still staring at you in what you could only guess was horror.

If you weren’t sure that Five was gearing up to bite your head off and report you to the police, you’d almost think his own red-faced expression of distress was cute, but that was only if you didn’t know better. Under his boyish charm, there was a very dangerous man that was about to spring to life. That person had no interest or reason to show someone who’d invaded his privacy any mercy.

Trying to save your ass, you sputtered, “I never write stuff like that, it’s just… Shit. This is basically my worst nightmare. I am so sorry.” You let out a broken sounding moan. You turned around, burying your face in your hands again. “Don’t worry, I am going. I will submit my resignation right away and I will delete that right now.”

Starting to cry, you moved to do just that but Five scared the hell out of you when he snatched your hand away and didn’t let go.

His eyes narrowed and your heart nearly leapt out of your chest. You tried yanking your hand back, but he held fast. “Stop!” he ordered, and you did, sort of. Your entire body trembled as you uselessly pulled, trying to get away. Reeling you back in to face him, Five calmly said, “You better not quit.”

What?

Had you heard him right?

God, he was close. You could feel the heat from his body and the warmth of his breath hitting your lips.

“Please stop crying,” he whispered.

You shook your head.

Undeterred by your inability to speak or to stop your sniffles, Five moved his hand to your waist and his penetrating eyes bore into yours making it impossible to look away. “That little story there…”

He stopped speaking. Suddenly looking flustered he ran his hand back through his hair, rumpling it in the most adorable way.

“You haven’t asked me what I thought about your writing?” he taunted, his voice so low and threatening sounding that you weren’t sure why your feet weren’t moving so you could high-tail it out of there.

Your reply came out as anxious sounding as you felt. “I don’t need to ask. I can tell by the way you are looking at me that you think I am nuts, and you hate me.”

Five drew in a deep breath, his eyes floating to the ceiling for a moment before he held your eye again and countered, “Well, if you think that, then you are right about the other things you wrote about me. I am a complete asshole and treat people like shit, but that is not my intent right now, despite my past and what my face says. You were very accurate and astute when it comes to nailing down who I really am, but perhaps when it comes to how I really feel about all this, and you, you shouldn’t be looking at my face.”

Before you could ask him what he meant by that, Five slid his arm around your waist, pulling your hips flush with his, and that forceful maneuver made it very clear what he thought about what you wrote.

Wiping your eyes as your heart raced, you muttered a very unintelligent sounding, “Oh.”

Five’s excruciatingly soft looking lips pulled up on one side, the look of it matching what you only now recognized in the sparking emerald of his shining eyes. There was a menacing level of mischief in him that was all the more strengthened by his burning arousal.

Confidently taking you by the wrist, Five led you back to the desk. Pressing you back against the unforgiving wood surface, directly between him and his chair as he said, “I am sorry I have been so…” His smile widened and you felt like you could melt from the sheer sight of his dimple deepening. “I have been so blind. You are right about everything you said about me.”

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you tried not to lose it over the way he was looking at you or the feel of his long fingers trailing up your thighs, not stopping until they were hidden just under the hem of your skirt where he let them settle.

Not sure what was happening, you shakily asked, “How much did you read?”

“All of it. Twice,” he blew across your lips as his teasingly hovered so close it was making you dizzy. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. Your writing is very good,” Five added as he flipped your hair aside and his mouth brushed with featherlight gentleness against your neck, making spiraling fireworks of tingles run up and down your spine.

You shut your eyes, feeling like you were having an outer body experience as Five placed tender but persistently more certain kisses along your throat and the shell of your ear. “You’re not mad?” you quietly asked, lost in his extremely loving touches.

Five’s fingers came up, moving a strand of hair from your forehead before those same fingertips tickled across your cheek then gripped your chin, forcing your face up next to his.

Your droopy eyes reactively flipped open.

“No. I am not mad,” he quietly responded, the comforting green of his eyes all but overtaken with the darkness of his growing lust. “I was mad at first and not just because you like to write stories about me. At first, I was hell bent on ending you for interfering in matters that don’t concern you. Pushing my family to choose such an inadequate name for our foundation was your crime and I was going to make you pay, but I see all that a little differently now. Funny how hearing a little truth done in the right way can make a very old, yet forever young fool see the light,” he finished with a chuckle that sounded so unbelievably charming coming from such a normally serious person.

“You don’t like the name, and you wanted to end me? That’s why you stole my laptop?”

Five laughed again. “Thanks to you, the name might be growing on me.” Ignoring your other questions he somewhat less assuredly said, “Is it true what you said about me… That part you wrote about how in the face of how much I lost, the fact that I never stopped fighting to change things for the better was the most admirable and important quality a person could have?”

“Yes. Of course I meant it. You’re an example of what it means to be strong and not give up and that’s what these kids need, and that is why I suggested that name after hearing your brother Klaus ramble on for hours about your life and how wonderful you are. You are someone they can look up to and that name seemed like it spoke of the trials yet also many triumphs of your amazing life.” Seeing Five’s face light up and feeling brave, you cautiously added, “From what I hear, we are all lucky you never gave up and aren’t lost anymore. If not for you, there wouldn’t be a world left. We owe our life to you.”

Five looked down at the minimal space between you, his dark lashes fanning his beautifully flushed cheeks.

“That’s not necessarily true, and in many ways, I am still lost,” he admitted. “You were right, I push people away. I lack basic social skills and I have been way too much of an arrogant prick to own that, and for it, I am alone.” His smoldering eyes flipped back up. “But I don’t want that. I want someone that sees me the way you do and isn’t scared of who I really am.”

The slightest tic as his jaw tensed was the only sign that Five wasn’t as sure of himself as he appeared.

“Are you scared of me?” he provocatively lured, almost as if he were baiting you.

You croaked back a very embarrassing sounding, “No.”

Looking like he loved that, Five excitedly asked, “Good, then will you let me show you how sorry I am for being a dick, and how much I appreciate you making me see all this in a new way? You are right. Nothing sticks it to my old man like making this place in name and purpose into something about giving people less fortunate a second chance. That is not what he’s about and using his name and things he knows are a jab at him is a perfect fuck you.”

That smile of Five’s that could explode a girl’s lady bits came out to play again and with it his hand ran down your back, gripping you by hard on the ass.

“Since you seemed to like the idea of it, and you haven’t kicked me in the balls yet, will you give me a chance to make your fiction come to life?” he courteously questioned, though none of this conversation had anything to do with any form of normal social decorum.

As his words hit home, Five quirked a dark brow at you, and again, ever so subtly, he let you get a feel of his desire as he trapped your body between his and the desk.

“What I lack in experience, I tend to make up with determination and my ability to quickly learn even the most complex concepts and tasks,” he added hopefully.

Squirming a little, your eyes flit over the contours of Five’s face as you tried to imagine the older man that he really was, but like usual, you could only nail that part of him down in the unnaturally assured way he held himself. Like it had from the first time you laid eyes on him, the paradox that was Five Hargreeves only made you want him more.

“I could let you do that…” you flirtatiously dangled, “as long as you aren’t planning on ending me still. Being all scary like you are is hot and all, but the threats against my life and livelihood are sort of a lady boner kill.”

Letting out another laugh that you could hardly believe you were hearing coming from him, Five nodded. “You aren’t going anywhere, sweetheart. Not until I give us both a happy ending and I don’t mean that kind of ending,” he growled just before his lips crashed against yours and his hand moved behind your neck, locking you to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

⚠️This concludes the PG 13 ending option. Go on if you want the explicit ending option.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five’s kiss took your breath away. His tongue pushed inside your mouth as he searched for more.

His kiss was perfectly unpracticed, warm and innocent.

The feel of him letting himself go in this way had you securing your legs around his backside, encouraging him to take even more, which he did, urging your bottom up onto the desk where he held you on the edge.

The protrusion of Five’s erect cock jabbed into your abdomen as he thrust himself against you as if he was already fucking you. “Fuck, I fucking want you,” he wetly gasped as he let your mouth go, only to assault your neck and then your collarbone with nips and needy kisses that were sure to leave their mark.

With his sucking and well timed bites, he was hitting all your most sensitive spots, and you knew without asking that he’d learned just what to do to drive you wild from what he’d just read. As your head dropped back and your eyes closed, you couldn’t believe that a story that was never meant for his eyes had accidentally stoked this passion in him and had now come to this.

Feeling his hand moving higher under your skirt, you let out a huffy little moan, followed by a whining sound. With a smile, Five looked up, looking first at your puffy lips and then your glossy eyes as if something had just occurred to him.

As you were trying to figure out why he’d stopped, he leaned into your ear, softly speaking something in another language. “Sei così bella. Voglio conoscere ogni parte di te ed essere tutto ciò che pensi che io sia..” (You are so beautiful. I want to know every part of you and be all the things you think I am.)

As Five moved along, kissing your jaw, you didn’t even get to ask what he’d said before his fingers were dropping down over your underwear.

“Well, well, well…” he tutted. “You aren’t supposed to be wearing these.” With that, Five remedied that deviation from your story, flipping your legs together and then tugging your panties down so he could stuff them in his back pocket.

His lips brushed yours and you trembled from that as well as the sensation of his fingers coming at you back and forth. They were gliding between your folds as he gauged your reactions to his explorations with a look of devoted persistence that proved he wasn’t kidding when he said he was all about learning the best way to please you.

Soon Five had you making sounds that were somewhere between pathetic whimpers and pleas for more. Then with no warning, he pushed two fingers inside you, and half mad, your mind spiraled into chaos ad he crooked the digits upwards. He worked them in and out with an intensity that was bordering on too much and your body spasmed around him, your legs at his backside clenching him tighter before going limp as you cried out his name.

Five smiled with satisfaction, pulling back just a little to watch your chest heaving and your body writhe.

“That’s it, honey, only next time I want the entire city to know I am fucking you,” he smugly informed before diving back in to kiss you again, all the while his long fingers never stopped dragging out every last tremor of your release.

Even in your state of bliss you could tell that Five was trying and failing to one-handedly undo his belt. Softly pushing him back, you weren’t sure he was going to relent but when he did, he looked humorously desperate.

“Wait you breathed. You can have me as many times as you want and in any way you want, but first there’s something I’ve been dying to do to you.”

That perked Five’s attention.

You pulled your lip between your teeth for only a moment before you pounced on him, your humiliation from earlier now nothing more than an afterthought as you pushed Five back and down into his chair. His vest buttons were your first target, and you relished the feeling of Five straining as you took control and your hands worked, unpackaging him.

Next, the shiny little buttons on his dress shirt popped open, one-by-one.

Once done, you ran your hands across Five’s exposed upper body, loving how firm and smooth his skin was. The contours of his leanly defined abs made him look like some kind of sex God. The very fine trail of dark hair leading from his belly button down, along with the ‘V’ shaped arrow of his muscle leading into his pants, were a sight to behold on their own but they were also drawing your attention to another intriguing a part of him that you could already tell was plenty more than average sized.

Not one to be outdone, while you were checking him out, Five suddenly reached up and ripped your blouse open, making it your second clothing casualty if you counted your underpants that he’d stolen.

His voice was barely more than a whisper but this time you were pretty sure you knew what the single word he spoke meant.

“Perfetta.” (Perfect.)

As your mouth moved to his, he shot forward to meet you, but Five was still mostly letting you have your way with him as you finished undoing his pants and pulled them open so you could fish him out of the thin cotton restraining him.

“My turn,” you warned before coming back to Five’s awaiting mouth, your kiss muffling his groan as your hand pumped his hard length, testing him and finding him deliciously responsive and dripping with pre-cum.

You saw a tinge of madness in his gaze as your thumb circled, teasing the slit of skin and the ridge surrounding the underside of his tip. Your adoring kisses moved down his neck, cherishing every curve and dip of his flesh as he swallowed down what you could only assume was how much he wanted to move this along.

One more kiss, your tongue tracing along his teeth before you sucked at his bottom lip and another spark of need had him pushing down on the armrests so he could better rock his shaft up into your hand even more than he already was.

Five’s thoughts came out in a rush of disjointed words. “Plea- Please. Oh, fuck yes,” he grunted and gasped.

His chocolatey brown hair fell in his eyes, but it didn’t matter because they were closed so beautifully in his state of total surrender.

“I have waited so long to have this,” he groaned as you jerked him harder and faster.

“And you’ve waited long enough,” you whispered against his lips before slipping lower, kissing his jaw and quivering stomach muscles along the way as you moved down between his legs.

As your mouth found him, you could only hope that Five felt truly young and free as he looked. You meant it in your story when you said that he deserved this and so much more.

You took him in, letting him push down your throat until it was too much, but even then you fought to hold your mouth around him, encasing his throbbing cock with hollowed cheeks and the flat of your tongue.

You knew you’d given him some form of peace when he anxiously reached back, tugging at his own hair. A warmth started filling your mouth, not stopping as you swallowed the flood of his seed down. His eyes sprung wide, and his mouth dropped open, a guttural sound flying from his lips as his head fell back helplessly against the upholstered chair.

You knew right then; you’d never forget that beautiful look on his face or the beautiful sounds he’d made. But more than that, you’d never forget the way Five made you feel when he looked at you.

You weren’t one-hundred percent sure that he had never been with a woman like this, but it had been strongly hinted by his brother that may have been the case. Just the fact that he trusted you to be his first brought a whole new depth to this moment. It was so empowering, it felt like pure energy was running through your veins.

Of all people, Five had chosen you.

Through his soft panting, Five looked all sorts of delirious, slouching in his father’s grand chair, with his clothes askew and his dick in your hand as you gave him a few final licks and proceeded to stretch your jaw and shyly smile up at him. Not about to let the fun end, you crawled up in his lap, letting your legs fall through the armrests at his sides so you were straddling him.

Five’s eyes fluttered open and closed as his hands gripped your hips and he gave you a little bounce on his knees. He smiled so happily and sleepily it made your heart skip a beat. Then he said, “Ready for round two, gorgeous?”

“Are you,” you teased, letting your fingers weave together around the backside of his neck as you leaned back so you could admire him in all his post organism, messy haired glory.

“Not yet, but I will be soon,” Five replied and he clearly meant it too. He was still partially hard, and by the way he had just started rubbing your tits and looked totally enthralled with how they were hardening for him, you were pretty sure that with a little more educational exploration of your body it wouldn’t take him long to be ready to go again.

“Five,” you breathed as he plucked and teased your nipples.

“Hmmm,” he sweetly hummed as his mouth found one, sucking on it with increasing pressure until you squeaked, so he resorted again to softly groping and nipping instead.

“What did you say to me before?” you questioned while still recovering from that.

“I asked you to go on a date with me after we finish this little reenactment of yours,” he replied, his words slow and thick. “I need an older woman like you to show me the way of the world and keep me in line and nothing would make me happier than to take you to dinner tonight and tomorrow night and...”

Oh my God.

Gone was the jerk you’d been walking on pins and needles around, and here was a man pouring out his heart to you though you hardly knew each other. To add to your dismay, you could tell he at least partially was lying. There’s no way Five had said all of that while glammering you with his ability to speak in seductive sounding languages. His arrogant little smirk as he lied only added to his power over you, yet you found that all you wanted was to kiss it right off his pretty lying face.

“Well, is it a plan? Will you go on a date with me?” he pushed, while also pushing his hardening shaft into the hand that you had been using to leisurely stroke him.

You laughed at the absurdity of the situation you’d gotten yourself into. The age differences you were dealing with were complicated to say the least, not to mention that you’d already messed up how normal people went about starting this kind of thing.

Doing your best pouty face, you pretended to be offended. “I am not older than you. Not really”

“No, you are not,” he agreed then frowned too and just like that, you wanted to do anything in your power to make him smile again.

Leaning in, you gave Five the softest, most chaste kiss you could.

“I take that as a yes to both aforementioned questions,” he mumbled, not even breaking your kiss as his arms fastened around you and he started lifting you both out of the chair.

Not stopping, in a matter of seconds, Five had you repositioned on top of the desk with his body lined up between your legs.

With his dick in hand, Five didn’t look at all embarrassed as he jerked himself off as he patiently waited for your answer.

This man had said he wasn’t going to end you but right then you knew he was ruin you for anyone else.

“Yes to both,” you frantically gulped, to which Five instantly started swiping his cockhead across your slicked wet entrance.

“Ohhh, fuu-ah-auck!” he moaned as he sank forward and your body stretched and clenched around him with each slow dip inside you that he took.

Biting down your own much higher pitched curse, your fingernails went up under his shirt, stripping it and his vest off.

As Five’s entire length disappeared all the way inside you your body folded around him.

You saw stars and Five also looked perfectly shattered by what he must have been feeling and seeing.

Clinging to him, your fingers dug into his back and he carefully began to roll his hips, fucking you deeply at first, only switching to full and more abrupt thrusts the more your body accepted him.

It was as things were starting to really get moving that Luther walked in.

“Hey, Five?” he started to question before he saw you and what Five was doing to you and then let out a very startled sounding, “Oh SHIT!”

You were already trying to cover breasts but Five didn’t seem concerned about it at all. With hardly a look up over your shoulder, with his cock still slamming into your cunt as he bucked his strong hips, hitting you just right, he roughly grunted out, “I. Smell. Something. Burning. Arrr-you trying to think again, Luther?”

Five’s larger than life brother was floundering, the heels of his shoes clumsily moving backwards before he ran into the wall.

“I urrr-umm… I felt bad. I mean, we felt bad,” he frantically rambled. “I was coming back to see if you were feeling any better about the naming thing. We can go with your idea if you really want and…and we were hoping you changed your mind about coming out to the karaoke bar with us and…shit. This is awkward!”

Still using your legs for leverage as he fucked you as hard as he could, looking up with a goofy smile you’d never seen him make as he casually blew his hair out of his face, Five spoke as if nothing was amiss at all. “I love the ‘Hargreeves Home for Wayward Boys’ name. It’s perfect, just like my smart lady right here said it was, but really Luther… No shit this is awkward for you! Get the fuck out. Can’t you see that I’m a little busy?”

As your body started to tense and then fall into quaking vibrations of uncoiling heat all compounded by flaming embarrassment, just then, Ben rounded the corner, letting out a cynical sounding laugh as his hand flew over his mouth then came down slapping his leg instead.

“Come on, big guy. Looks like this isn’t the time for a family chat,” he said, guiding his frozen brother out of the room.

Alone again, you were somewhere between orgasmic bliss and an odd sort of mortification filled with the feeling that nothing really mattered but the man whose head had fallen against your chest as he started to spill inside you while muttering praises that made your heart feel like it might burst.

This was nuts. All of this was. But somehow, it made sense. It was perfect and you couldn’t have written it happening any better.

Somehow, with Five and his crazy family, you knew things would always be unexpected and extraordinary, but you were ready for it. The once broken but not beaten wayward boy was proving he was far from giving up and he didn’t need special powers to make your wildest dreams come true. He just needed to be the person he'd always been.

Thanks for reading, lovies. ❤️

To see all my art and story posts on Tumblr hit this link

Link to my master list page

To visit me direct on AO3

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lanawinterscigarettes · 2 years

Note

Could you do some Five fluff? literally any sorta of fluff with him please

Sure! I love Five <3

Sleepy Boy (Five Hargreeves x reader)

Warnings: fluffy cuteness overload, soft sleepy Five, Five is kinda grumpy (but then again when is he not)

Five looked adorable when he was asleep, you decided one day after you'd woken up from your nap to find him curled up beside you. He looked so peaceful; it was almost hard to recognize him without the constant scowl on his face.

You smiled to yourself as you ran your fingers through his soft hair, knowing he didn't let his guard down like this for anyone except you. It felt good to be his safe space; you were the one exception to all the rules he'd made before in the past, specifically designed to keep people out.

You stopped moving as he began to shift towards you, his hands reaching out to grab ahold of your torso as he buried his face into your chest. He mumbled something in his sleep about the probability of ending the apocalypse before making a complaint about something Klaus did the other day.

You let out a small laugh while he stirred, slowly blinking his eyes as he lifted his head up.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, honey," you said, brushing his hair out of his face. "Just something you said in your sleep."

"Hm." He unconsciously leaned into your touch as you began to gently scratch at his scalp with your fingernails. "What did I say?"

"Oh, y'know. Apocalypse stuff. That, and you were complaining about Klaus and something he did."

A sour look crossed his face, causing you to laugh again.

"Idiot," Five muttered.

"Hey, that's not very nice," you gently scolded him.

"I don't care," he huffed. "It's true."

You stopped scratching his head, causing him to let out a low whine. "Five, don't be mean. I don't care whether it's true or not."

He sighed loudly. "Alright, fine. I guess I'm sorry, or whatever."

"Much better," you said, starting to play with his hair again. "See, was that really so difficult?"

"Yes," he mumbled without hesitation before letting out a yawn.

"Aw, you're only grumpy because you woke up from your nap early, aren't you?" You teased.

"No, I'm not," he pouted, reburying his face into your chest.

"I think you are," you persisted, wrapping your free arm around his waist. "Poor baby, not getting enough sleep."

"Shut up," he replied, his voice muffled from his face being pressed against you.

You giggled, kissing him on the forehead as you pulled him close. "My beautiful, sleepy boy," you whispered as you held him.

Taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @your-next-daydream

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nickeverdeen · 3 months

Note

how about five x reader when the reader accidently confesses feelings? Please and thank you!

Acidentally confessing your feelings to Five Hargreeves

TW: gunshot injury, mention of getting shot, reader taking care of a gunshot wound

————————————————————

The aftermath of the mission cast a subdued ambiance over the Umbrella Academy. Five Hargreeves, despite his usual uncanny ability to navigate danger unscathed, bore a minor wound—a gunshot graze on his shoulder. The living room, once a battleground, now transformed into a makeshift infirmary.

Y/N, a mixture of relief and worry evident in their eyes, found themselves tending to Five's injury. The air held a tangible tension, the near miss of danger lingering in the room.

As they delicately cleaned the wound, Y/N couldn't help but let their guard down, "You know, Five, for someone who can time travel, you sure have a knack for attracting trouble in the present."

Five, typically stoic, winced at the sting of disinfectant but couldn't suppress a smirk. "I like to keep things interesting."

With the task at hand, the Y/N's thoughts became a tempest of emotions. The sight of Five, vulnerable yet resilient, stirred something profound within them. It was in that charged moment, amid the quiet echoes of the mission's aftermath, that words slipped out before they could be reined in.

"You're infuriating, you know that?" Y/N muttered, their tone a blend of exasperation and affection. "Getting yourself shot and making me worry like that."

Five, more accustomed to trading barbs than receiving concern, raised an eyebrow. "I assure you, it's not on my list of preferred activities."

As Y/N carefully bandaged the wound, they sighed, their gaze meeting Five's. "You have this way of making me care, Five. More than I ever planned to. I mean, who would've thought?"

The admission hung in the air, laden with a vulnerability that transcended the typical banter between the Hargreeves siblings. Five, though adept at masking his emotions, seemed momentarily caught off guard.

A beat of silence passed before Five quipped, "Well, it seems I'm not the only one who can make things interesting."

The room, steeped in a quiet understanding, bore witness to a confession that wasn't grandiose or cliché but was instead woven into the fabric of their shared moments—a revelation that unfolded amidst the aftermath of danger, a gunshot graze, and the quiet acknowledgment of something deeper.

#request #imagine #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #five tua #five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader

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m4nd0l0r · 2 years

Text

Angelic Lips.

Description: A fixation bleeds through him: he catches himself always glancing by.

Ship: Five Hargreeves x GN! Reader

Word Count: 860+ (this is more of a drabble tbh-)

Author’s Note: writer’s block is a bitch and i fought it off with horniness so ig this is a lime (or lemon/smut?? genuinely idk)— i mean it deals with mouths, making out and what i thought oral fixation meant before taking a google search at 1am and becoming so aghast (basically i thought it was a mouth fetish or smth rather than a keen liking to biting and sucking cos of childhood shenanigans—) so it seems accurate, this also is just pure filth n’ brain rot of five, with that said i hope you enjoy reading and pls interact for a little boosting!! <33 (i’ll be posting more five content soon once i get a little more inspo/motivation!!!)

(Five’s body is aged up, and his consciousness ranges from 25 to 50 in my works for him from now on— However you decided which age you want for your experience/comfort!!)

Five Taglist: @ells-graveyard @noahspector @aelinismyqueen @sunweee @fivelegance @ne0boss @twauna00 @placidpluto @eichenhouseproperty @heartsforsuyin @ghostlywavelengths @ghostlycherryblossomwonderland @seconds-not-decades @coolcatlover4 @emotionally-unstabel @peachy-wolfhard @its-loki-bitch @raven-fandomtrash @theilliterateskankula @magicstrange @venusrambles @whereintheworldisspencerreid @honeycombdumbass @kazuive @oscarisaacsleftballsack @zenithinthebin @peachteeaaa @rchaoz @wickedmystery @wordsandnerds @umbrellatte @666abby6666 @iameddiemunsonshair @starlightinhumanform @vennythearsonist @trashmouthsahra @crinklypink @halfumbrella (if you want to be removed/added, pls tell me via pm!!)

This started all because of your damn mouth.

Five keeps, no- always finds himself watching. He feels as if he can’t turn away- that it pulls him back into this tight spot he can’t crawl out of.

And he never tries to get out.

Half of the time, he was sure you’ve catched him looking— it wouldn’t surprise him if you have. He feels- knows that he was too obvious, that he was becoming so perverted- that his eyes shouldn’t dare to look at you ever again.

And yet each time he can- he dares. He feels vulgar, as if he has sinned, but when he sees your lips quirk up into a smile, your canines, molars form a smile that you think shows a little too much gum to the point you try to hide it— he likes it- he can’t help but look.

He looks at you as if he’s seen an angel.

His eyes travel down to the curve of your lips- noticing your cupid’s bow accentuating the shape. He takes in every smile, every frown, every time your mouth gaped open and shifted close. How it flattens as you purse your mouth out of frustration.

He likes how red— angelic, your lips are— how soft it is when you kiss him- when you leave crimson kiss marks on his cheek- neck— even in his own mouth, he loves it.

It always starts small- so sudden at first. A stolen moment in time, you both grasp unto it.

His face pressed up on your cheek, and he breathes. He draws you in- the scent of laundry and other sorts of chemicals flood his senses- but it sets him a reminder- to know again that he was not dreaming.

That he was not creative enough to imagine you and your lips right next to his.

He plants a kiss— it was almost.. sweet- unlike the bitterness of cold coffee, the same one he loves to take in- much to your disdain. It was one that lingers through your skin like a spark. His fingers hold you near, and you could feel the desperation for closeness through his palms.

You push back, returning the gentleness. And yet he strays away, making you want to chase him but he comes back for more— like a starving man- knowing the pleasure is finally in his reach— the desperation clings as his lips push in- His lips smile against yours as he takes you in, his tongue on yours, teeth clashing.

His viridescent eyes watches you, the glint in his look could eat you alive- consume you like fire to wood- turning your vigor into smoke— it was obscene- your chest felt stuffy as you could feel his heart beat so furiously just inches away from your own.

His fingers tracing over your hip bone up to your sides. Your hands hold on his upper arms— his again on your hips- sliding across your back, his thumb rubbing shapes, leaving feathered caresses down your spine.

You were aflamed- burning under his touch, his skin— his lips trailing down your neck- his weight pressing onto your body, molding you both like clay risen from the earth’s mass ever so perfectly.

You both needed to breathe— gasping unto each other- But if he were to pull away, he’d feel as if he stopped being alive— that he couldn’t be away. He wants- needs to further feel you- taste you. His hands grabbing you everywhere- his tongue briefly touching your lower lip— he breathes, takes you in like the air he lacks itself.

“Five— Five, shit—“ Left your swelling lips. He only rasps ‘fuck’ before wrestling away, letting your blood rush somewhere else- not on your cheeks- your lips— the crimson merely pumps swiftly in your chest- adrenaline swimming in your veins.

Silence fills the space between you. As you breathe in and out, hands on the sides of his arms— all he does is stare at your red lips- all swollen up, glistening with a vermillion glow, because of him.

It was tantalizing.

Impulsivity floods his thinking: and he is a drowning man.

“Open your mouth.” His voice strungs you out of your daze— making you blink. It surprises him too- he shouldn’t.

And yet.

You slowly part your lips— his thumb coaxes you, further separating them. Your pupils watch him as he finds himself staring on the inside of your mouth. All teeth and gum- supple skin— Enough of that, he tells himself.

There was no point in this- he knows how you feel— how you taste- what was the point of checking the source? But he continues- an urge sinks in deep his fingertips— it was not enough.

“Wider.”

His knee shifts, now resting between your thighs- he jerks his clothed thigh up, causing you to let out a small throaty gasp. He only takes this opportunity- slipping his finger in. And just as he was about to move away— He felt your tongue slide on the pad of his thumb and your lips quirk into a mischievous smile.

He only broadens his shit grinning grin even further.

“Atta, angel.”

#tua five #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five x reader #five x you #number five x reader #number five x you #five hargreeves smut #number five #five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #tua x reader #tua s1 #tua s2 #tua 3 #1am me was thinking saur good w this #thank you for reading my madness

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parkersbliss · 2 years

Note

I'm so embarrassed but here it is! 😭 so there's y/n who is addicted to coffee flavored candies but doesn't like drinking coffee. which five finds very confusing. She's always offering five candy but ofc, five answers grumpily like "it's not the same thing as coffee"— and suddenly goes to a part where they kiss (idk how it leads to this omg) and five is absolutely ENAMORED with her lips bcs of all the coffee candy she eats..

is this too much explaining or what.. ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR THIS I LOVE U LOTS <3

this… this is THE request. thank you for this 🙇‍♀️

Sweet Flavor | F. Hargreeves

pairing: five hargreeves x fem!reader

wc; 637

warnings: might make you blush lololol

synopsis: five refuses to try your favorite candy, so you make him

a/n: feeding yall today 🙄 you’re welcome! half way through s3 💪 also aged up five ofc!

requests: CLOSED

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt list

—

Five sighs, leaning on the table as you take a seat next to him.

“Really embracing the old man, huh?” You said, referring to his unusual outfit. Instead of the academy uniform, he’d opted for a vest, flannel, and fedora combination. You honestly wondered where he found it.

Five hums. “Yes, I am. It’s called retirement.”

You just laugh at him, unwrapping one of your Werther's caramel coffee candies. Five wrinkles his nose in disgust as you hand one towards him. “Want one?”

“I’d rather save the world again. Naked,” He sassily replied.

“I wouldn’t say that if I were you,” You tease, popping the candy into your mouth and sighing at this sweet-bitter flavor.

“Why don’t you just drink regular coffee?” He asked. “Like a sane person?”

“Because coffee is nasty,” You said, sticking your tongue out at him and displaying the small candy. “These are better.”

“They’re not even close to the same thing,” He grumbled.

You raise a brow at him. “And how would you know? You’ve never had one.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he dismisses, getting up and inspecting the hotel buffet. You follow after him, popping another candy in your mouth.

“So, what are you thinking of doing since you’re retired?”

Five grabs a cup and fills it with coffee. “I don’t know. Traveling? Isn’t that what people do nowadays?”

You scoff, “Yeah, people who don’t look barely eighteen.”

He swats at you, returning to your seats. “I’ll drive.”

He pours some syrup over his pancakes, and you pout. “If you like that much syrup, you’d love the candies just as much.”

“Coffee is supposed to taste bitter, not filled with artificial flavoring.”

“You don’t know till you try.”

“I do know, and I’m telling you now, that is shit,” He points at your mouth with his knife.

You frown, suckling on the candy and its sweet flavor. You were lucky to have found them back in 1963, and now you just kept a handful in your pocket at all times.

“You didn’t like me at first, and now…”

“That’s completely different,” He defends.

You laugh. “Really? Cause you’re a bitter old man, and I’m the sweetest person ever.”

“You are far from the sweetest person ever.”

“That’s not the point, Five,” You huff.

He smiles at you. “Isn’t it, darling?”

“Just try one,” You urged, tossing the wrapped candy at his face. “Please.”

"Try a cup of coffee, and I’ll consider it.”

“I have tried a cup of coffee.”

“When?”

You roll your eyes. “Prior to when we met.”

“Then, I tried your coffee-flavored candy… prior to when we met.”

You glare at Five, and he just smirks, taking a bite of his pancakes.

“Please,” You beg.

“No.”

“But—”

“No.”

“They’re—”

“No.”

“Five.”

“No.”

You click your tongue, still rolling the candy in your mouth when a thought occurs to you. Five notices the mischievous look on your face, and his eyebrows furrow together.

“(Y/N)—”

He’s cut off when you grab the back of his neck and smash your lips together. His hands fly to cup your cheeks as the taste of the candy invades his mouth. And holy shit, he loves it. His lips press harder against yours, almost making you fall off the seat as he chases the flavor.

And then, before you know it, he slips his tongue in and relishes the sweet flavor. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth, trying to seek the sugary treat he so desires. You let out a quiet whine, brain fuzzy at the action. Five groans as you tug on his hair, tongue invading your mouth, and then he pulls back.

You’re stunned, blinking as your lips smack together. And then you notice something missing and gasp.

Five grins, sticking his tongue to display your coffee-flavored caramel proudly on his tongue.

“You little—”

— END —

🏷 five taglist: @clearbasementvoid @halfumbrella @esmedith

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badkitty3000 · 2 months

Text

Strength

Five is finally strong enough to give in to his true feelings and tell you how he feels. You are strong enough to let him.

Five Hargreeves x Reader Smut

The third one shot in this short series, following "Addicted" and "Weak". Contains points of view from both characters.

If you have any more ideas for me, let me know!

My Master List Of Number Five Fanfiction

Strength:

The position of the bed in your room has always annoyed you. For half the year, when the sunlight pours in, it slices right across your face in the most non-gentle way. One minute you’re sleeping soundly and the next you are being slapped awake by a piercing light over your eyes. It doesn’t matter how much you try to cover the window, the sun still fights its way through. Like it has a personal vendetta against your rest.

Today is no different, and you shield your eyes with your hand and blink into the light. It takes you a few seconds to clear your head, but then you remember. The happenings of last night would have felt like a vivid dream if it weren’t for the glaring evidence all around you.

Tangled, wrinkled sheets. Your body aching and throbbing in places it shouldn’t be. The lingering scent of sweat and sex in the air. But of course, the biggest piece of evidence is the empty space next to you. He’s gone.

Not that you were expecting anything less. Yet, for some reason, it still fucking hurts. You would think that you would be used to it by now; maybe even like it. Good company, good sex, no ties. What’s not to like? You’ve had this argument with yourself a thousand times. It never does any good.

You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling, and moving out of the direct line of sun. You’re still naked and you can feel the stickiness between your legs. Some sort of concoction of his saliva and cum, probably. You need to shower. But you lie there, staring blankly upwards.

Are you going to cry? Rip the sheets off the bed in a rage-fueled hysteria? Call and leave several consecutive voicemails listing all of the reasons you hate him? Maybe. Or you could just stay here, unmoving and unfeeling. You’re so tired and that seems like the best option. At least for now.

The thing is, it’s not fair for you to hate him. It’s not his fault. He’s never promised you anything he didn’t deliver. He’s never mistreated you or lied to you. He has never been anything except himself this whole time. If you were going to be honest, you’ve brought all of this on yourself. You created this. This fantasy world that has never existed, and will never exist.

What did you think was going to happen? You would finally get him to fall madly in love with you and you’d make some happy little home together, just the two of you? He’d kiss you goodbye in the morning, head out to blast a few unsuspecting fuckers in the face, and then come back in the evening exhausted and missing you? He would sit down and you’d crawl into his lap and lay your head on his chest while he told you about his day?

Yes. That’s exactly what you thought. Pathetic.

You’re not sure how you got like this. You used to be a normal person. You weren’t exactly planning on losing your fucking mind over this guy. During that first night, when you came stumbling into your place, both of you drunk off your asses and already trying to get the other’s clothes off, you certainly hadn’t planned on anything more than a quick fuck. He was hot. You were horny. He bought you a few drinks. You brought him home to fuck him. Not exactly a swoon-worthy meet-cute.

It wasn’t until he had you on your back, naked and panting, that something switched. There was something different about the way he started to kiss you. Something different in his touch as his hands roamed over your body and lit you up from the inside. You weren’t even sure how to describe it.

It was like a longing, or a sadness, or desperation, as he kissed down your neck and chest like he worshiped you. He fucked you hard and rough, but even that was different than anything you’d experienced before. He continued to look you in the eyes, kissing your lips and touching your face.

There was a weird contradiction between the forceful thrusts of his pelvis into yours and the gentleness of his face and hands. Something about that paradox of hard and soft that seemed to be a constant battle inside of himself had you falling apart.

And fuck, did you fall hard.

You wanted to have more of him, to see inside of him, and to give him whatever he needed. But of course, he pulled away the minute you suggested something more than what you were already getting from each other. He had made it very clear from the beginning. He wasn’t going to stay.

It had hurt, but that didn’t mean you stopped wanting him. It was too late by then. He was already inside you; in your brain and under your skin. When he wasn’t there, you could feel him and hear his voice in your head. All of those things he would tell you while his mouth roamed over your body, his eyes full of want and desire.

You feel so good

You’re stunning

Don’t stop, sweetheart, you’re doing so good for me

I need you, baby

The longer you let it drag on, the worse it got for you. He knew what you liked and how to give it to you. He knew what to say to make you forget everything else. When he was there, he made you his world; giving you everything you begged for and more.

Except for the one thing he never gave you, no matter how much you begged.

And you did beg. Shamefully and embarrassingly. You begged him to give you more of him. To know all of him. Not just the physical parts. You wanted to be in his head and in his soul. But he just gave you that look; the one that got you into this mess in the first place. And then he denied you all of it.

You knew why he had told you what he was. He was trying to scare you. Make you think he was a monster and finally give up on him. You had been asking him to stay again, questioning why he wouldn’t when he snapped. He threw you against the wall and pinned you there, teeth bared in a snarl, his face inches from yours.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” he had hissed.

“Try me,” you challenged.

You had seen the brief hesitation and confliction on his face, but then the anger was back and he spat it back at you.

“Fuck! Why are you so fucking stubborn? Fine, you want to know? Want to know why you’re going to regret all of this? I’m a killer. A fucking assassin and I kill people. I’ve killed hundreds and I’ll keep killing more!”

He was breathing hard as you stared at him, your eyes wide, while he still had you backed against the wall.

“So, what now, princess? Still think you want me?”

He had said it sarcastically, obviously thinking he already knew the answer. He thought you would push him away, or scream, or call him disgusting. Instead, you had looked in his eyes and you saw what he thought he had been hiding from you. The fear that was there. He was afraid you would push him away. Afraid you really would see him as a monster.

“Yes,” you had whispered with a nod.

Before he could answer, you had leaned in to kiss him, but he jerked his head back.

“Stop it,” he’d warned quietly. “You don’t want this.”

But you didn’t listen, and you leaned in again, hearing his breath catch in his throat. After he hesitated again, he gave in and let you brush your lips softly against his and he didn’t resist anymore. He let you kiss him and run your hands down his chest, until he was pressing you even harder into the wall, hands laced into your hair.

You’re not sure when it all became a turn-on. Or even why. It’s not like you’d ever thought murder or blood was sexy before.

But holy shit, when you saw that blood on him the first time, you thought you might come just from looking at him.

The only reason you can think of is that you know he is a hard, ruthless, unforgiving killer when he’s out there. But when he’s with you…you get to see a tiny part of him that very few others ever get to. When he’s soft and gentle and caressing your body with the warmest touch, it does something to you. Something weird and primal.

You like knowing what he’s capable of. You like knowing his secret. And you fucking love the fact that he can switch it off and on for you.

You want to hear the bloody details and see the gruesome evidence. You want to smell the dried sweat on him after a particularly draining day of tracking and killing. Because that means you get the other side of him. The one you can pretend is only for you.

Out of all your little fucked up fantasies, that one is probably the most delusional. You have never discussed exclusivity with each other before. There has hardly been a need to, considering how much time lapses in between meetings. It’s foolish of you to think you are the only one. Why would you be?

You know what he looks like and how he carries himself and how he fucks. To think that there are no other women out there taking advantage of his existence would be pretty fucking stupid.

But still, you let yourself fall into that trap sometimes. You imagine all of those days and weeks that will go by without him; when he won’t pick up the phone. You imagine him sitting there alone, thinking about you.

What a fucking idiot you are.

That’s why you had to tell yourself no more. You were cutting yourself off. It wasn’t good. It wasn’t healthy. You were becoming weird and obsessive and your self-confidence was shot. So, after one of those early mornings, when you caught him trying to slip out undetected, you told him you couldn’t do it anymore.

You told him to leave you alone. Told him to go fuck himself. Told him he was the worst person alive.

And he had just stood there, taking it all in, and not arguing. Then he had left, just like he was going to do anyway.

In hindsight, he didn’t deserve any of that. Or any of the times after that, when you had given in and started the whole pattern over again. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t plant these pathetic ideas into your brain. He never promised you anything. Yet, you still blamed him.

All of these thoughts are running through your head as you haul your heavy body up, pausing to sit on the edge of the bed for a minute, before getting up and making your way to the bathroom. As you wait for the shower to warm up, you look at your reflection in the mirror and you flinch. Leaning in closer, you run a finger over the tender mark on the side of your neck. A red and purple bruise that is too high and too big to be covered by a shirt collar or hair. Then you take in the rest of your body. You look like some sort of fucked up connect-the-dots puzzle.

Marks all over your collarbone, your shoulders, and your tits. You even find a few on your stomach and thighs. You don’t even remember getting those.

You might have been happy about it, or even turned on if it were another time. But your mind goes back to last night and everything that he said and did.

He said you were his. He told you only he could have you. He marked you for himself and for anyone else that might see you. He would kill anyone else that touched you.

Then he left.

And you’re standing here with his bites and bruises all over your body, and his dried cum between your legs, and you’re trapped again.

You’re not sure who you hate more, yourself or him.

The shower feels good on your skin as it washes away some of what he left behind. The water mixes with the tears that are slowly dripping down your face and that you are trying hard to ignore. You feel like shit. Just like you knew you would.

So, this is it. You are done. And this is not like all of the other times you’ve said the same thing, knowing in the back of your mind that you really didn’t have the strength to follow through. Now you do. And you believe yourself this time. He will never be completely yours and you are finally ready to accept that.

After you clean up and get dressed, you stare once again at the disheveled bed and you turn away from it. You’ll deal with it later. Right now you need some coffee. Maybe that will help clear your mind a bit.

As you pad down the hallway, you hear a noise and you stop. You hear it again and you continue on, slowly and cautiously towards the kitchen. And then you see him. Bent over in front of your open fridge and you rub your eyes like you must be hallucinating. You look around you, check the clock on the wall, and determine that yes, it is the morning.

What the fuck is happening?

“Five?” you whisper.

Your voice sounds weird to your own ears and you half expect him to realize he made a mistake and blink away without a word. But he doesn’t. Instead, he turns to you and offers you that fucking irritating smile that you both hate and love. And you don’t even know what to say.

***********************************************************************

The sun outside is blinding as I shove my hands in my pockets, hurrying along the sidewalk, my head down. I feel the worst I’ve ever felt, and that’s saying something. I fucked up big time and the shame is still lingering. I was manipulative and possessive and rough with her. And then I was gentle and loving. I told her she was beautiful and no one else could have her.

Then I left.

I can tell myself a million times over I’m doing it for her own good, and maybe that’s partially true. But really, it’s for me. Because I can’t pull my head out of my ass for long enough to acknowledge what I really want. At least outside of my own head.

As I’m silently berating myself, something has caught my eye and I stop dead in my tracks in the middle of the sidewalk. Up ahead, coming out of an apartment building is that guy. The one she was with last night. The one I wanted to murder at first glance.

He’s got his arm around a woman’s waist, and they are smiling and laughing together as they walk outside. She is pushing a stroller with a small girl sitting inside, and he is holding onto a leash with a golden retriever on the other end of it. The woman is wearing a wedding ring with a diamond so big I can see it from here, and they carry on down the street, the perfect picture of the American family.

This time, on top of wanting to blow this guy’s fucking head off his shoulders, I want to expose him for what he is. I want to confront his wife; let her know the kind of man she’s married to and what he was up to the night before. Then maybe she’ll give me the go-ahead to at least punch him in the face.

Two things stop me, though. One is that they have a kid. And growing up knowing that your dad is a complete and total dickwad is not fun. Trust me on that. I figure she’ll find out soon enough, she doesn’t need me to bring that little piece of information to light for her.

The second thing is that I realize I am just like him.

It hits me like a punch to the gut and for a brief moment it actually hurts to take a breath in. Here I am getting pissed about this random guy’s behavior when really, he’s no different than myself. We’ve both lied to her. We’ve both used her. Maybe he didn’t get to fuck her, but he would have if I hadn’t cock blocked him.

Wow, you are one giant piece of shit.

The more I think about it, the more I realize this. Instead of killing him, I should go up to him and shake his hand. Welcome him to the club of heartless assholes; maybe buy him a drink and exchange stories of how we’re the scum of the earth. Fuck, we should be best fucking friends!

Is this what I want? Do I want to spend the rest of my life in the company of these kinds of people? People who are weak and cowardly and use others for their own selfish needs? No, I do not. And I also do not want her to be subjected to more of the same. She’s already had to deal with me; she doesn’t need to go through this with someone else.

I can fix this, though. I can do what I should have done from the start. I don’t have to be like him. I have a choice.

I turn immediately and start making my way back the way I came. I have no idea what I’m going to say or how this is going to work. I don’t know how the fuck to be in a real relationship and I sure as hell don’t know how I’m going to fit into her life. I also don’t know if she’ll even want me. But I have to try this time.

I blink inside like I always do, not even thinking about it. I’m jumpy with nerves and my palms are starting to sweat. I can hear the shower running and I think about blinking in there with her, but quickly decide that I do not want to give her a heart attack or get my balls kicked in, so instead I wait.

What do normal people do in these situations? I look around me. I should do something nice, like make her breakfast. Do I even know what she likes to eat? No, because I’ve always left before I’ve needed to find out. Dick.

Eggs seem like a pretty safe bet, so I start rummaging around in her refrigerator. As I’m pulling out the carton, I hear my name and I turn to see her standing there. She is obviously confused as to why I’m here and I smile because she’s so fucking cute with that dumb look on her face.

“What are you…did you forget something?” she asks, her eyes darting nervously away from mine.

I hold out the carton of eggs I have in my hand. “Yeah, I needed to borrow a few eggs, do you mind?”

That was my lame attempt at a joke and I can see it landed so far off the mark I can’t even see it anymore. She’s staring at me with a deep crease between her eyebrows and her mouth half open like she can’t quite decide if she should say something more or hurl the nearest sharpest object at my head.

I give a short, embarrassed laugh and I set the carton on the counter and run a hand through my hair.

“Sorry. I didn’t come here for eggs.”

“Then why are you here?”

I can hear the tremble in her voice and I know it’s because she is afraid of my answer. She’s afraid I’m going to make her feel even worse than she already does. It sucks but I understand.

“I came back to tell you…” my voice trails off because I have no idea what to say. I clear my throat and try again. “I came back to tell you a lot of things, actually. But the main thing is that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I have done and everything I should have done but didn’t. You deserve much more than I have ever given you and I am so sorry for that.”

She is still looking at me very suspiciously and she is not saying anything, so I press on.

“I’ve been trying to stay away because I think you deserve someone better than me. Someone who can be a part of your life in all of the ways I don’t know how. I still think that, but I don’t want to keep doing this anymore. I want you.”

Her eyebrows draw together even more and she blinks a few times before speaking.

“What do you mean you want me?”

I lean up against the counter and take a deep breath. “I want you. All of you. I don’t just want the sex. I want everything and anything you want to give me.”

She swallows hard and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Five, I don’t really…I don’t know what to say.”

I nod and look at the floor. “I understand if you want nothing to do with me. I fully deserve for you to kick me out right now and never talk to me again.”

She shakes her head. “No, that’s not what I mean. Do you know how long I have wanted to hear something like this from you? It’s fucking pathetic how long. But now that I’m hearing it, I’m having a hard time believing you.”

I run another hand through my hair and down the back of my neck. “I understand,” I say again, fully expecting to get the lecture I have coming to me.

Instead, she’s walking over to me, eyes locked on mine. She throws her body against mine and hugs me tightly around my waist and I hear and feel her take a big breath in and let it out. I wrap my arms around her in return, but I don’t know what else to say.

“Don’t lie to me,” she says quietly but firmly. “If you’re lying and you leave again, you need to stay gone.”

“I’m not lying. I want this. I might not know what the fuck I’m doing or how to do any of this, but I’m going to try.” She looks up at me and I trace my fingers down the side of her face. “I know what I want, and it’s you.”

I barely register what is happening next as she jumps into my arms, legs wrapped around me, and she’s kissing me hard and deep. I don’t even know what this means yet, but I don’t want it to end. Her body is warm as she clings to me and I never want to let her go. I tell her that in between hungry kisses and I blink us both into the bedroom where I throw her onto the bed.

I have never seen her in the bright light of the day before, and she’s even more gorgeous this way. It makes me wonder what the hell took me so long. As I lie down next to her, I place light kisses on the mark I left on her neck.

“Does it hurt?” I whisper.

“Not anymore,” she says, before pulling me back in again, covering my mouth with her own.

We don’t feel the need to hurry things along this time, and we take the time to kiss and feel one another until the urge is too strong and we can’t wait anymore. When she’s fully naked and laid out beneath me, the morning sun still shining through the window, I see my map of possessive calling cards I left all over her body. I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m most definitely turned on by that.

“Damn it, you’re beautiful like this.”

She smiles and pulls me in again, opening her legs for me so I can be inside of her, which is what I’m dying for. I don’t want to rush it though, so I thrust into her slow and gentle, covering her neck and face in more kisses. When our eyes meet, I want to tell her so many things.

“You’re the only one, you know. There’s no one else,” I confess as I drag my lips across the shell of her ear.

I hear her whimper and when I look again, she’s crying. I stop, thinking I said something wrong, but she only smiles through her tears and pulls me closer with her legs, pushing her hips up to let me know to keep going.

I shove my cock in deeper and harder. I want to hear her moan and cry for me and only me. She is arching her back and clutching at my body like she’s afraid I’m going to leave right here and now. And I feel terrible that I made her feel that way. I only want to make her feel good.

“I’m sorry,” I moan against her skin as I drive into her even harder. “I’m sorry.”

I pick up her leg and put it on my shoulder, making her mouth fall open as she lets out a loud cry.

“Oh fuck, Five…” she screams.

Just hearing that is almost enough to make me come, but I want more and so I ram into her harder and faster until her loud moans match the rhythm of my fucking. I want to fill her up again, make her mine again, and listen to my name emanating from her mouth in long sobs.

“You’re mine,” I tell her, and I can’t even stop myself. It’s all I can think as I desperately thrust into her, as hard as I dare without hurting her.

I groan, closing my eyes, as I feel her hand in my hair, threading her fingers through it. Her touch feels so good and I let her pull my face down to hers so she can kiss me again. I love the way she kisses me.

“I’m yours,” she responds before throwing her head back, exposing her neck, and I want to leave more marks on that beautiful skin, but I resist this time.

Instead, I bury my face in between her neck and shoulder and keep fucking her. She’s writhing and clawing at my back and she’s on the edge of coming. So, I keep doing what I’ve been doing and pound into her hard and relentlessly. She reaches down between us to finger her clit and the sight and feel of that is too much, because holy fuck, is that hot.

“Oh shit, baby, I’m…” I groan loudly as I unload inside of her at the same time she is shaking and shuddering beneath me.

Afterwards, when we’re both gasping for air, I pull out but I don’t move off of her. I want to stay right here, with her legs and arms wrapped tightly around me, feeling her breath against my neck and her fingers tracing over my skin. I’m so filled with every emotion imaginable and I don’t even know what to say or do. So, I say the only thing I can think of that might somehow convey everything.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, my mouth pressed against her sweat-damp shoulder. “I’m sorry,” I tell her as I move to her face, kissing her mouth, her cheeks, and her forehead. “I’m sorry,” I confess as I lay my head on her chest and close my eyes against the hot tears I can feel forming behind my eyelids.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

I’m chanting it like it’s somehow going to erase all of the things I have done. And not just to her. I’m sorry for so many things I can’t even name them all. But once I start saying it, I can’t stop and I’m just so fucking sorry for everything in my goddamn life. And I know it’s not going to change anything, or change the kind of person I was and still am. I know that. Still, it keeps rising out of me, taking on a life of its own, and I can’t seem to stop.

“I’m sorry…”

“Five, it’s ok. Five, look at me.”

I finally shut up and open my eyes to look at her.

“It’s going to be ok,” she says softly. “We’re going to be ok.”

I don’t even know what to say to that because I want to believe it so badly, but it’s just so hard to. I nod my head and kiss her lips and move off of her so I can lie next to her instead. When I pull her to me, her back to my chest, I feel the best I’ve ever felt. I still don’t know how to do this, or how to fix things, or what tomorrow is going to bring. But I’m going to stay this time, I know that much.

She is my weakness and my strength and everything that makes me whole. She is finally mine.

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soolarity · 2 years

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Five Hargreeves SFW Alphabet

Five Hargreeves x gn!Reader - 5.6k words

Warnings: general spoilers for season 3, mild violence, food mentions, pretty angsty stuff five went through

Summary: An alphabetic collection of Five Hargreeves headcanons before, during, and after the apocalypse with you.

Here's my Masterlist!

A/n: Another work in the same month?? what a shock! This is sort of redemption for the sheer angst of my first five fic; out of time. I had so much fun writing this! But I’m also drained because holy fuck it’s a lot of headcanons. If you do want to know more headcanons though about five, feel free to send a request or an ask in my inbox! I’ll be more than happy to write short Five headcanons because he’s just so fun to write. Anyways, enjoy and please leave comments<3

A – Affection

“how do they give or show affection?”

He would definitely be closed off and distant at first and especially around other people. It would take a long while, possibly even years to gain his affection. But once he does, he shows it through acts of service, small yet still important. Maybe he’d make you another cup of coffee or your preferred beverage, or he’d remember small details and interests about you that he’d bring up later on. He would also bring with souvenirs from wherever he goes, pushing it into your hands and grumbling that he had it and didn’t want it even though he actually bought it specifically for you. Behind doors, he would occasionally show physical affection especially when he’s stressed or jittery and needs someone to ground him to reality.

B – Beauty

“what would they find beautiful in their s/o?”

He would definitely find intellect beautiful. It doesn’t matter if you’re academically gifted or more street smarts, he would just love an s/o that is smart and knowledgeable about their passions even if it didn’t exactly align with his. Although he would appreciate it if he had someone to talk and debate about math equations and physics to, he also appreciates someone who listens to him madly rambling and add input into his ideas, no matter how relevant or not.

C – Comfort

“how would they comfort them? how would they like to be comforted?”

Five spent his entire childhood homeschooled in the academy and his adulthood in the isolating apocalypse so needless to say his empathy and comforting skills aren’t the greatest. He would be a listener, maybe not the best because he would interrupt to give (well-meant) solutions to your problems. He wouldn’t know how to act through physical comfort at first, instead he’d hover around you and sit beside you like a cat. After a long, long while he would be open to hugs but you’d usually have to initiate it. He’d grumble about how your tears would ruin his shirt but he doesn’t move away.

would have a hard time accepting comfort from others at first since he had to basically deal with the apocalypse by himself for more than 40 years and then the whole commission spiel. He gets antsy with any kind acts at first, expecting it to be fueled by a deeper nefarious motive. Once he does actually accept comfort, he’d appreciate someone who listens to him earnestly because most of the things he says sounds surreal to other people and he isn’t often taken seriously. He would be averse to physical comfort at first, nearly going to fight mode the first time he receives a hug, but later on he wouldn’t mind a hand on his shoulder or in his own hand, especially during difficult apocalypse flashbacks because it grounds him to reality.

D - Dance

“do they like to dance? how would they dance?”

Five would absolutely know how to dance, after all, Reginald forced them to learn how to formally dance in their rigorous training. Would he like to dance though? Definitely not sober, he’d have to at least be halfway through blackout drunk to even consider dancing. Or at the end of the world, seeing as how he had both at Sloane and Luther’s wedding. Once he has enough liquor in his system to make a regular person barely upright, he’d be pulling out the moves left and right. 50’s rock n’ roll, salsa, waltz, you call it he’ll dance it. Well, before he throws up from dizziness and passes out in an elevator. Outside of drunk dancing, I think he’d only dance if it’s required in the mission to blend in with the crowd or if he truly feels safe and in a sappy mood, he’d slowly sway with you once the apocalypse is finally over and his family and you are safe.

E - Excitement

“how do they act when they’re excited?”

He would vibrate at a volatile speed and a single poke to him would send him bouncing around the walls—I’m kidding. He would definitely be jittery though, bouncing his leg nonstop and grinning happily that’s slightly also unnerving due to the menacing glint in his eyes. He had lost hope countless of times during the apocalypse so he learned to stop hoping and being excited, but once he could finally be excited about something, he would stop at nothing to achieve it.

F – Future

“what are their plans in the future?”

13-year-old him would have probably planned to successfully implement time travel and become the world’s greatest professor or physicist in a prestigious university but 58-year-old Five wants nothing more than to retire. For the past 41 years, his future plans had just been to survive, figure out the equation, and go back home, he didn’t think about the rest. Now once the apocalypse is finally resolved, he’d plan to retire from it all. He’d love to travel around and do road trips with you while also nagging every time about any inconvenience like an old man (because he is). He doesn’t see himself settling down and having a child, mostly because he think’s he’s quite old to have a child and the unresolved family trauma still haunts him every time. He wouldn’t mind getting married, he’d love the tax benefits. Maybe the two of you would be the constantly traveling relatives of Claire, giving her cool presents and souvenirs from your travels together. And after a year of travelling around the world, he would want a suburban house with a picket fence and a nice wide garden. He’d have a field day gardening, planting flowers, and maybe even building a koi pond in the corner.

G – Gifts

“what gifts would they give you?”

He’d give you things you randomly said you needed or wanted some days ago and hand it over to you without a word. It could be a hobby gift or a handy item for your job or maybe something related to your interests. He’d also give you things that he likes and just pass it off as a gift even though he’d probably use it more than you would. He would also gift you acts of service like teleporting to get an item you missed or doing a chore you’ve been procrastinating to do without you asking.

H – Hold

“how would they hold you? how would they like to be held?”

He usually keeps his distance towards others, respecting their boundaries and at minimum only touching them to push or pull them in a certain direction out of frustration. He had done a lot of fucked up shit with his hands so he isn’t the type to give pats or hugs in affection. Although a scenario where he would be most likely to hold you would be if either of you were in a near-death encounter. It can be almost getting shot by commission agents or the impending apocalypse but he would roam over you with his hands, checking frantically for any injuries before holding you desperately. He’d grasp the back of your shirt tightly and slump over you in relief and desperation that you were alive and whole. After retiring from the apocalypse, there would be more fleeting touches such as a brush of hands or a protective hand on your back.

As to how he would like to be held, he definitely wouldn’t want to be treated like fragile glass. He’s a 58-year-old assassin, he doesn’t need pity or caution (or at least that’s what he’d say). Five would appreciate a solid hold, one that isn’t hesitant or scared that they might break him into pieces. He wants someone to hold him together and tether him to the ground on the occasion he jumps too far. He’d appreciate hand holding and the occasional hug when things get too much. As for cuddling, Five doesn’t have the time to cuddle in the midst of the apocalypse, but after successfully retiring without another apocalypse or the Commission hunting him down he’d be more open to the idea. The years of isolation definitely made him touch starved so the first time the two of you cuddled he’d toss and turn to adjust to the new sensation of being held. He’d like to be the big spoon but when he gets nightmares (which are frequent) he secretly craves to be the little spoon. He’d also cling to your side like a koala in his sleep with his face in the crook of your neck but vehemently denies cuddling you once he wakes up.

I – Ideal

“what’s their ideal date like?”

Due to the apocalypse, he has no time to consider planning any dates with an s/o, but after he retires, he would plan a simple yet cheesy dinner date under candle light. He doesn’t have much ideas about dating and courting due to being stuck in the apocalypse since the start of his teenagerhood but he distantly remembers having small dinner dates with his previous wife Delores whenever he’d scavenged a particularly good wine or food in the rubble. Now that he’s with you, he’d definitely struggle a bit with the whole dating thing but just give him a nudge in the right direction and he would quickly pick it up. He'd like private dates such as dinners or movie marathons at home to catch up on all the media he couldn’t enjoy before. He would be less open to public dates such as museum dates or zoo outings or pottery and painting classes, since he would always be hypervigilant and on the look out for any Commission goons despite being retired, or he’d pick a fight with the museum curator or art instructor. It's a flaw he works to fix but Five feels most at ease with only you in the safety of your home.

J – jealousy

“do they get jealous easily?”

Five would have an immense amount of trust for his s/o to the point where he’d consider you his close confidant, best friend, and partner, so he wouldn’t get jealous easily. He trusts that whoever you interact with that it’s just platonic and just in case the other person did indeed have other motives such as flirting with your or something, he would trust you to put a stop to it or walk away from it. If by chance you were oblivious to the other person’s advances, he would step in civilly and bluntly tell the other person that you’re taken, not out of jealousy but more out of concern for your safety. If by the smallest chances you actually flirt back (which is a dumb decision honestly) he would just immediately cut to the chase and tell you ‘what the fuck are you doing?’ Depending on whether it was just your accidental over friendliness or something other he would either tell you that he didn’t like it and it seemed like you were actually interested in the other person or he would break the relationship with you if you weren’t actually faithful to him.

K – Kisses

“how would they kiss you? how frequently?”

Five isn’t really comfortable with PDA so kisses weren’t frequent, especially with the threat of the apocalypse onto them. At most he’d kiss your temple or forehead quickly as a habit before turning back to whatever equations he’d be solving. Although if Five was drunk, that was a completely different story. Five is an unpredictable drunk, but most often than not he’d toss all of his pride out of the window and show affection openly to you even in front of all of his siblings. Behind closed doors, he would be more comfortable kissing you. He’d be fond of temple and forehead kisses or if you were taller than him, he would do hand kisses, especially on your palms if he was feeling extra sentimental (which was a rare occurrence).

As for you kissing him, he would turn tomato red if you ever tried to kiss him in front of others and grumble or yell in embarrassment. Don’t take it to heart though, as much as he’d love to keep up his cold and unaffectionate act around others, he’d melt into a puddle when no one’s looking.

L - Love language

“how would they show that they love you? what love language do they enjoy to receive?”

Five’s language would be acts of service. Usually, he considers his time very precious and he always tries to make the most out of everything, discarding anything else that wasn’t relevant to his mission. For you though he would take time out of his day to check up on you and your well-being, especially in grueling times like running from an apocalypse. He’d also use his powers to fetch items for you and always arrive on time whenever you asked.

For receiving love language, he likes it when you spend quality time with him. It doesn’t matter if its brainstorming the next plan or frantically scribbling formulas on walls or drinking coffee in the morning in the kitchen. Five really treasures small quiet moments where there is nothing he can do but sit down with you and accompany each other in silence or soft conversation. It’s a rare break from the bumbling chaotic tornado that was his family.

M - Melt

“what are the things you do that makes them melt?”

He’s a tough person to get through and crack, but one thing that makes him melt every time is watching you fight. The reason why he would have you as an s/o in the first place is because he trusts you enough with his secrets, his heart, and his mind. He is constantly worrying about whether his family was alive or not and whether they could live beyond a few days, so seeing you fight and defend yourself puts his mind at ease and reassures him that he chose the right person to trust. Five also melts whenever he sees you interact with anyone of his siblings, whether you’re entertaining Klaus’ insane tangents, bond with Luther over his records collection or softly chatting with Viktor about anything, he adores it when you get along with his siblings and he definitely sees you as a part of the umbrella family now.

Another much more niche sight that makes his cold walls fall down and his insides uncharacteristically gooey is watching you stand in front a wall full of complex equations with your back turned from him. He doesn’t know specifically why the sight of you frowning in confusion at the lines of numbers affected him much but it took him a while to recover and stop looking at you with adoration. Although you might have not understood the complex formulas he’s written out, you try as you roam your eyes throughout the whole surface. It was like as if he exposed his entire heart and mind to you in a tangled-up ball of equations and you’re trying to untangle it, which made it even more complicated and caught you within the threads. Five often thinks back to it with a fond smile before frowning again once Klaus asks him what he’s smiling about.

N – Nickname

“what would they call you? what would they like to be called?”

Five has always been blunt in refusing any other name ever since Grace gave them ‘regular’ names when they were children. For some reason Five sticked to him and he refused to change it. He wasn’t even that hung up on the whole ranking system either, he couldn’t care less who was the leader or number 1 among them. Five just had a certain ring to it. So, he’d be generally opposed to any over-the-top nicknames like ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart’ and hearing ‘darling’ gives him flashbacks to the Handler and he’d rather not relive the things that woman did to him. He unwillingly has nicknames from Klaus, always unamused at whatever new name the séance would create for him. Although after a long time of being with him and possibly in retirement he wouldn’t mind ‘honey’ or ‘hon’. It was sweet but not overly and he responded to it whenever you say it from a room in your shared home. Once though when you accidentally slipped up and called him honey in front of his siblings his ears turned firetruck red in embarrassment but teleported to you nevertheless. Allison and Lila never let him live it down.

O – Obvious

“how obvious would they make their love for you?”

To the untrained eye, it was subtle, almost silent. He’d casually brush arms with you or hand you an item when you asked. He’d steal glances at you but he was a trained assassin so he was sneaky. To his siblings who know him and his habits well though, it is more obvious than Five would like it to be. Diego would catch Five’s eyes sometimes lingering a bit longer than usual on you. Viktor often saw Five prepare coffee exactly for two people. Lila once barged in a room searching for Stanley to catch the two of you talking in soft voices and softer looks, she had never once seen Five so un-hostile before. The entire family watched in a mix of fondness, shock, and slight disgust (lovingly) as Five became softer and more considerate around you.

P – Pets

“would they want pets? what pets would they have?”

Five hasn’t really though about adopting a pet before because he was so preoccupied with apocalypse after apocalypse after another apocalypse. When he finally retires though, having a pet wouldn’t be his top priority but he wouldn’t be entirely against it either. He would be the type to have unusual pets such as reptiles or maybe fish (although with Carmichael, maybe not fish). In the comics, Five has a small dog named Mr. Pennycrumb so he would most likely adopt a small dog, maybe a senior dog, and it would be the exact opposite of Five. There’s just something about seeing Five, the greatest assassin in the entire timeline, with a tiny hyperactive dog that couldn’t weigh more than 18 pounds. He is neutral towards animals but he would absolutely have a soft spot for Mr. Pennycrumb and let him run around his garden even though a flower will be uprooted by the excited tornado that is Mr. Pennycrumb. Five would carry Mr. Pennycrumb often and reluctantly let him back to the ground once he realized he needed his hands to do something. A favorite past time of Mr. Pennycrumb and Five is teleport-chase where Mr. Pennycrumb would chase Five as he teleports around the house until the both of them wear each other out.

The Hargreeves family would definitely get whiplash when you bring Mr. Pennycrumb to any holiday family gatherings. Klaus would rub his eyes repeatedly, questioning whether the dog was real or another hallucination, Luther first thought it was a stray dog that randomly waltzed into the mansion and try to adopt Mr. Pennycrumb before being heavily threatened by Five. Allison would just stare in shock while Claire would adore Mr. Pennycrumb, spoiling the dog with endless pets and belly rubs.

Q – Quiet

“how are quiet moments with them?”

Quiet moments are rare when all Hargreeves siblings are gathered together, some mischief or argument would always spiral into a rambunctious event. Fortunately, Five had the power to teleport anywhere he pleases which made it much easier to sneak away from Diego and Klaus fighting over a donut and into a much calmer place. If it was outside, you and Five would sit beside each other in silence, he would drink in his surroundings, bask at the intact buildings and sulfur-free blue sky, and mostly you, alive and breathing. Indoors, he would have some sort of physical contact with you, whether it be a hug, holding hands, or laying his head on your lap. Your presence away from other prying eyes made Five more relaxed and less likely to bounce around and wear himself out by thinking too much about everything. Your scent and your touch would silence every anxious intrusive thought that dared to interrupt his moment of peace.

R – Romantic

“how romantic are they?”

Five isn’t a romantic, he doesn’t know shit about modern dating and pet names and PDA, the closest he’s ever had to romance was his previous wife Delores but she was a coping mechanism he formed to keep himself from going insane in the apocalypse, and she was a mannequin. So, Five isn’t the most romantic, sappy, sentimental person, that title goes to Luther, but he when he loves, he loves the deepest and most intensely. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone for you, hell he won’t hesitate to die for you. When Five Hargreeves loves, he loves them with everything he has, even if it meant little to nothing but himself and his weary hands. He would risk everything to make sure you’re alive and safe and he wouldn’t know how to function if something happened to you. Although he isn’t the most perfect romantic partner, he would get the sun and moon and every star in the sky for the person he loves.

S – Safe

“how safe would they feel around you?”

Five was overly cautious to the point of being almost paranoid constantly and for a good reason. He had to fight ever since he was a child and endure the tortuous training from Reginald, survive by himself in an apocalypse for the other half of his life, then kill for a shady organization he had no choice but to join in. Now he was back with his family but constantly under threat of some sort of apocalypse and the Commission at the same time, he hadn’t had a second to relax and feel safe. Whenever Five was around you, as much as he’d like to say he’s comfortable around you, there is always a part of his mind overworking in the background for any threats or surprises. It would take him a while after the apocalypse to fully relax, but luckily with you by his side, he willed himself to ease into life without constantly looking behind him for a bullet or a knife. He would feel safe whenever your hand is in his, giving him comfort despite running away from enemies. He would feel safe when your arms are around him, fully trusting you not to stab him in the back like so many others did before. He would feel safe together with you in your shared home with Mr. Pennycrumb after the apocalypse. It almost felt too good to be true, almost like a dream or a figment of his imagination before you’d show him it was reality by squeezing his hand and pecking his cheek.

T – Take care

“how would they take care of you if you’re injured or sick? how would you take care of them?”

He’d immediately nag you about not taking care of yourself, which is bold considering he has been running for 45 years on nothing but caffeine, adrenaline, and sheer spite. He’d immediately wrestle you to bed, confining you until you get better and you know that there’s no way you could sneak out of the door without him immediately teleporting in front of you and bringing you back to bed arrest. Five would rush immediately to patch you up or place a cooling towel on your forehead. Even though his actions might be a bit rough, the concern and care bleeds through his actions and you don’t mind if he dabs antiseptic a little bit too hard or if he covers you with a blanket a little bit too tightly.

Due to the Hargreeves’ enhanced physiology, they rarely get sick. Oftentimes it would only be a small cough that would last less than a day but once a year they fall with the worst cold known to man. Five has it the worst, especially with how the stubbornly pushes himself to the limit until his eventual crash and burn. It would be difficult to take care of Five, he constantly tries to teleport himself out of bed until he falls from exhaustion. Luckily in retirement he has all the time in the world to recover and heal, even though you have to remind him more often than not. As a child he was picky with food whenever he was sick, often being forced to eat Grace’s chicken soup after numerous futile attempts to reject it. Now with you, Five eats whatever soup you make without hesitation, thankful that he had you to take care of himself even though he found it hard sometimes to accept it. Five would be torn in being extra clingy and wanting to cuddle with you and wanting to stay 50 miles away from you because he’d be scared that you’d catch the cold that he had and also become sick because of him. Until eventually he gives in and surrenders to the cuddling (you fall ill after a few days like how he predicted and he returns the favor of nursing you back to health).

U – Unique

“what is a trait that is unique to them?”

He is an absolute neat freak. He loves having all of his items in order and would dust everything until not a single spec of dust was left. When the Hargreeves’ visited your shared home (much to Five’s dismay), they were impressed by the sheer cleanliness and organization of the place, almost resembling an Ikea display house more than an actual lived-in home. Ever since Five was a child he was one if not the most organized of the umbrella children. His childhood room was immaculate every time, not even a single physics text book out of place. You would have assumed for it to be an adult’s room if it weren’t for the toy airplane model hung on the ceiling and the small twin sized bed. Since the apocalypse, his cleaning habits have gone to possibly concerning levels. He had to survive in a desolate apocalypse, anything sanitary or clean of rubble was a luxury Five rarely encountered. So, once he was able to retire with you and have his own home, he made sure to take care of everything and never once take the intact house for granted. The only times Five would be caught with scattered items or a messy environment was when he was under extreme stress. Five would be too preoccupied in stopping the apocalypse to care about cleaning any mess and would just start scribbling on the walls frantically. Luckily you picked up on the habit and only stocked up on washable or whiteboard markers in your home, just in case Five needed to go on another math marathon.

W – Wish

“what is their greatest wish?”

Five’s greatest wish is for his family to live long, healthy, and happy lives. It was what kept him going through all those years, to have the opportunity to warn his siblings about the future and save them from their deaths. As much as he loves to complain about his brothers or roll his eyes at his sister, he would sacrifice anything for them, and he technically already did. Five’s survival instincts were held together by the glue that was the thoughts of his family, it had been a long 41 years and it would be more than impressive if he hadn’t thought about giving up at least once, but he kept on running back against the tide of time to save the ones he loves.

X – Xmas

“how would they spend their holidays with you?”

Five’s memory of his childhood was foggy, it was impressive he even remembered bits and pieces of it considering his age and the trauma from his childhood, but Five never once remembered celebrating Christmas as a child in the Umbrella Academy. Reginald was a man (or monster) of logic and thought that holidays based off of religion and culture was unnecessary and stupid so he just remembered spending Decembers with his siblings looking wistfully at strangers decorating across the street or walking with gifts in hand.

In the apocalypse, Five had no reason to celebrate holidays, he barely even knew what day it was half of the time. He tried to keep track of time through clocks and calendars but no other calendars went beyond 2019 and most clocks were broken or eventually stopped working. Five didn’t want to waste resources celebrating alone in the apocalypse, so he eventually forgot of it entirely.

After retiring, Five had to adjust to normal life again, but not alone. You had introduced him to celebrating milestones and holidays. You made hot coco (although Five found it too sweet and swapped it out with coffee with a festive whipped cream), you watched cheesy hallmark movies, and you decorated your home. You had also convinced the Hargreeves siblings to arrange another gathering despite the horrors that might unleash having all Hargreeves siblings in the same place once more. Five and you were finally the ones decorating their house across the street and walking home with heavy bags filled to the brim with gifts. Five surprisingly was an amazing gift giver. He had a talent in knowing exactly what the other person wished for, whether the gift was an item said in a passing conversation or something useful to them. In the celebration Five was lovingly suffocated (Five’s wording) by his siblings for his gifts and most importantly his presence that brought the group together as a family.

Y – Yearn

“what do they do when they miss you?”

Five was bitterly familiar with the feeling of yearning, he had a whole 45 years to be friends with it in the apocalypse and in the Commission. He had a love-hate relationship with it, if you will. With that many years of yearning for his family and his past, Five had developed a system to overcome it. Was it a healthy one? Probably not. He would toss himself into his work, figuring out equations or assassinating targets to distract himself from the aching pain of longing. For you, Five surprisingly hasn’t had much opportunities to yearn yet. Although Five doesn’t look like he’s clingy, he most definitely is. Wherever you are, he also appears. He cannot be further than a 4-meter distance away from you. When in the rare case that he is, he tosses his entire focus onto his work and his mission again, frantically finding the quickest way back to you. Once you finally return from what you had to go to, he’d visibly slump in relief. He would casually ask you how it went before checking if you had been injured in any way, but internally he would be so relieved that he wouldn’t have to yearn for you to come back because you were back and you were with him.

Z – Zzz

“how do they sleep?”

He has two sleep modes, A. He sleeps with basically his eyes open and even the smallest noise will immediately send him to fight or flight mode, or B. He sleeps like an old man and is dead to the world until 6am when he punctually wakes up every single time.

The first sleeping habit wasn’t fully there during his academy training childhood but it fully hammered into him once he worked as the Commission’s temporal assassin. He had to be ready at any moment and never let his guard slip, but if often lead him to be more worn out and tired. In his more youthful days, he would’ve turned sloppy and could have been almost overpowered by his opponent, but now he has trained himself to work with even the smallest amount of energy just for survival.

The second sleeping habit was from when he was truly a child, before the grueling missions and training. He was always the last of the siblings to wake up and would have been the last ones to arrive at the table if it wasn’t for his teleportation abilities. After retiring it would take him a while but eventually, he started sleeping like that again. He could finally rest easy with him clinging onto you like a koala and not be woken even by Luther’s heavy footsteps. His habit of waking up precisely at 6am came from his age, (well mental not physical) he woke up exactly at the same time the sun rose.

Although he was an insomniac due to going for days without sleep to try and stop the apocalypse, now that he was retired, he had no reason to skip sleep, he had all the time in the world. He also surprisingly isn’t a night person despite his insomnia, he would much rather sleep at 9pm after reading for a bit and wake up bright and early (which is very old man of him). If you were a morning person, he’d spend a few minutes in bed with you, basking at the new sunshine before shuffling the both of you to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. If you weren’t a morning person, he would wake up first and stare at your sleeping self with so much love and adoration that Five would rather die than be caught in the act. You would wake up to an empty bed in slight panic but the smell of pancakes and the clanking of pans in the kitchen would quell your anxieties as you go to the kitchen to greet a cooking Five good morning. :)

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