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#Five hargreeves x y/n
ourgoddessathena · 2 years
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Five : *Accidentally hits Y/N in the face*
Five : *Trying to decide between saying 'I’m fucking sorry' and 'Are you okay'*
Five : "ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?!"
Y/N : "What’s wrong with you?!"
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rcksmith · 1 year
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Untouchable - Five Hargreeves
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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.
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"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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1-imaginary-girl · 1 year
Text
Annoying 2
Five Hargreeves x Reader
Summary: Five and Y/N are now partners. They’ve been assigned their first official mission as a team. But when the plan derails, the two find themselves facing a choice that might change the course of their new partnership. Reader is gender-neutral.
Warnings: Violence
Word Count: 5113
Part 1
A/N: This was originally going to be an independent one-shot, but there were so many requests for more “Annoying” content I decided to switch things up. If anyone has any suggestions or requests for what to do to continue this series, I would greatly appreciate it.
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Reader’s POV
“Have you completely memorized your character sheet?” Five shouts from another room. You’re currently putting the finishing touches on your disguise in the washroom of your shared hotel room. And thankfully, the Handler assigned the two of you separate beds. Your face heats up thinking of a different situation.
“Yes, Five, believe it or not, this isn’t my first time undercover,” you shout back. You smile, knowing he's probably rolling his eyes at you.
This is yours and Five's first official mission together as partners. Just the sentence makes you want to squeal. But you have to keep yourself professional tonight. You want to show Five just how good an agent, and a partner, you could be.
There was a bit of prep and training before tonight as neither you nor Five has had a partner before and the Handler doesn’t respond well to mistakes. It was simple tests to ensure that the two of you were suitable to be partners, such as practicing combat as a duo, reviewing boring company documents, and there was even a training video called “How to be the Ideal Partner” which Five immediately tried to walk out of before the Handler reminded him it was required.
All of this extra work worried you that Five would change his mind about being your partner, especially since you weren’t even sure what finally convinced him to do it in the first place. But to your surprise and delight, Five stuck through it with bearable complaining.
You touch up your face and adjust a few stray hairs before feeling satisfied. You stand back and take a look at yourself. The look is a bit bold but you remind yourself that you are no longer Y/N L/N but rather Sam Palinski. A bit of an average name, but the point was not to stick out.
You’re not sure if the Handler did this on purpose, but the outfit chosen for “Sam” cuts quite the figure. It hugs your body a bit tighter than what you would normally wear, but you remind yourself to be confident. In fact, you look pretty hot. The outfit isn’t perfect for hand-to-hand combat, but the objective was to avoid as much conflict as possible. Thankfully, you are wearing shoes that double in comfort as well as looks.
The details of your character sheet rattle off in your mind. You shouldn’t need to know too much, just enough to hold a conversation, but you were prepared nonetheless.
“I would prefer to get there on time,” Five shouts. This time it’s you who’s rolling your eyes.
“Calm down, I’m coming,” you say. After one final look at yourself and a whisper of encouragement, you exit the washroom. “Besides, it’s always better to be fashionably late, don’t you think?”
You look up and are struck by the image of Five Hargreeves in a tuxedo. While he’s normally seen in a suit and tie, the look of him in a proper suit with his hair combed back sets your heart aflutter more than usual. He locks eyes with you and you think you see his eyes widen. You try to portray an act of confidence as he surveys your look.
“Well, what do you think?” you say while outstretching your arms. Your smile brings his eyes back up to your face.
“You look…adequate,” he says before clearing his throat and turning away. You don’t know what you expected, but something in you deflates. You think you hear him mutter, “Not very inconspicuous” but you brush it off.
“Just what every person wants to hear.” Suddenly you feel awkward with Five’s back to you so you inch closer to gauge a reaction out of him. “So, are you ready to make our debut, Mr. Palinski?”
Five scowls to himself while taking a step away. “I don’t see why the Handler had to make our identities married to one another.” You’re used to Five’s grumpiness. You never let it affect you because you know that’s just the way he is. But sometimes you think there might be another side to him. And a part of you keeps hoping that he’ll show you that side more. But you already got him to agree to be your partner. You got what you wanted from him, right?
“Because a married couple is more discreet than two eligible singles, especially when I look like this.” You give a twirl and wink at the boy. His face is flushed, probably from frustration. He’s cute when he’s frustrated.
“We should get going.” You roll your eyes at his abruptness.
“Fine. After you, husband.” You receive one more scowl for the road.
After a short drive where Five continued to shut down your attempts to sing along to the radio, you pull up to the target’s location. The target is hosting a soiree at their ginormous mansion which is how Five and you will be able to slip in amongst the attendants.
Even though you knew what the mansion looked like since the two of you surveyed the area prior to tonight, the size still blows you away. You wonder what it would take for you to live in a mansion like this.
Driving past the front gate, you arrive in front of the doors. There is a valet stationed to help you out of the car. You thank them and take in the scene before you. Five rounds the car after handing the keys over to the valet and stands beside you.
He starts to walk in when you see a security guard with no doubt a guest list. You quickly loop your arm through Five’s and hold tight when he tries to pull away.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he hisses at you. You roll your eyes.
“We’re supposed to be married and that involves acting like it,” you hiss back. “Haven’t you ever done undercover work?”
He tosses a glare your way. “Yes but normally I’m on my own,” he whispers. And then under his breath says, “Which I’m starting to miss right about now.”
You ignore his negativity and simply pull him along with you. The two of you give your names to the security guard, and after presenting I.D., you are let in. One reason you love working in the field is the various places you get to travel. Rich targets are your favourite because they always have the most extravagant homes.
You look around in awe as you take in the place. Immediately there’s a golden chandelier above you in the entryway. Just a little further you can see into the ballroom and your excitement doubles. “Come on,” you say to Five without giving him a glance and dragging him over to the room.
“Slow down, you’re going to tear my arm off.” His complaint goes in one ear and out the other as you stumble into the room. People dressed in their most expensive clothing populate the room. There are tables and such off to the sides where some are conversing, but it’s the middle of the room that catches your eye. There, people are dancing the waltz, and you compare the sight to a dazzling teacup ride as they move round and round in circles, the girls twirling their dresses in various colours while the men take the lead.
“We should spread out, try to blend in with the crowd before making a move to recover the flash drive,” Five says while scanning the area. Your mission was to recover a stolen flash drive that the target swiped from the Commission. The target is an ex-employee and a bitter one at that. The flash drive contains confidential information about the Commission, specifically compromising details about their agents. That includes Five and yourself.
You know the mission is an important one, but you can’t help but feel drawn to the dance floor. You want to get swept away into your secret identity and for one night blend in with this society of high-class, beautiful-looking people.
“We should dance,” you blurt out.
“We absolutely should not.” He looks at you incredulously. But you don’t care.
“Come on Five—”
“Y/N, we’re supposed to be blending in not standing out.”
“But isn’t the best hiding spot in plain sight?” You look at him with your best attempt at a puppy dog face. Despite his lack of human emotion, he does look away from you.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” It becomes clear to you that he won’t budge and you would either have to drag him kicking and screaming onto the dance floor or let it go. Or a third, more devious option.
“Fine. We should split up, talk to different people.”
“Don’t blow our cover by talking too much,” he warns you with a serious look on his face.
“Who, me?” You give him one last cheeky smile before heading towards the right side of the room.
You scour the crowd of well-dressed people looking for someone to execute your plan with. There are plenty of eligible bachelors, but your eyes land on one in particular. You can’t believe your luck, but there, standing on his own, is the host. He’s also the one who stole the flash drive. You straighten your back and quickly saunter over to him before anyone else can scoop him up.
“What’s a handsome man like yourself doing all alone?” you ask as you saddle up next to him. The man turns to you and smiles.
“Apparently, I was waiting for you.” Despite yourself, you blush. It isn’t often you get this kind of attention.
“Sam Palinski, pleasure to meet you,” you say.
“Michael Lynell, and I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine.” You feign shock at the name.
“You’re the host?”
“That’s correct.”
“Well, you certainly know how to throw an event,” you say, gazing out at the sea of people and the intricate, beautiful décor.
“Thank you, I do hope you’re enjoying your time so far.”
“Absolutely.”  
A pause. “Are you unaccompanied tonight?” he asks. Smooth move.
“Actually, I’m here with my husband,” you say. You try and fail to spot Five amongst the crowd. Michael only then seems to notice your (fake) wedding ring. His face shows mild disappointment.
“Ah, I see.” He seems a bit defeated before perking up and regaining his charming attitude. “Do you think your husband would mind if I asked his lovely spouse for a dance?” he asks. You’re surprised you didn’t have to ask him, but are excited nonetheless.
“Not at all.” Michael holds out his hand and you take it, following him onto the floor as a new song begins. Michael takes the lead and you’re perfectly content to follow.
“You’re quite the dancer, Mr. Lynell,” you say, feeling giddy to be dancing for the first time in a while.
“Only because I have such a good partner,” he says with a wink. You bite your lip to keep from smiling too much. The man is rather cute, and perhaps if he wasn’t your current enemy, you could see yourself actually pursuing him.
Just as you allow yourself to get swept up into the dance, your eyes flicker down from Michael’s gaze to the crowd. Suddenly, your eyes lock onto Five’s as he stares at you from across the room, and there’s a look there that you don’t recognize. You look away, trying to ignore him for the time being. There’s no use in entertaining that idea. You shake off any ill-conceived hopes and continue with your fantasy.
Before the song is over, however, Five appears next to you which gives you a start. His eyes are on Michael as he taps the man on the shoulder. Michael turns to him, just as startled.
“Mind if I cut in to dance with my spouse?” Five asks him with anger laced in his tone. It must be your silly imagination, but you could have sworn he emphasized the last two words.
Michael recovers from his surprise and returns to his charming host persona. “Of course,” he says. He then turns to you. “It was a pleasure, Palinski.”
You nod with a smile as he weaves through the crowd and disappears from your sight. You’re drawn back as Five repositions you to dance with him. You are bewildered by his actions. “What are you doing?” you ask as he prepares himself.
“Dancing,” he says, as if it was a stupid question. Then the two of you begin to dance as if nothing happened. You stare at him, trying to figure him out, but he’s determined to stare at the top of your head instead.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t dance,” you say with narrowed eyes. But his expressionless face doesn’t waver.
“I said we shouldn’t dance, but since you’ve chosen to ignore my advice, you leave me no choice but to keep up appearances or risk blowing our cover,” he says, all calculating and professional. “After all, married couples typically dance together, do they not?”
Again, you thought you heard an emphasis on the word “together”. So, you pull on that thread. “I was doing just fine dancing with our host.” Then you see it. Five flinches at your words. Your confusion only grows.
“And just what were you doing interacting with our enemy?” He finally meets your gaze as if looking for something.
“Blending in.”
“By making lasting impressions? We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile,” he snipes.
“Relax, I doubt it was a lasting impression.” Five looks as if he wants to argue but decides against it.
“It was a risk nonetheless.” You almost argue back but stop yourself. You don’t want to argue. You’re right where you want to be: dancing at a fancy event, and with Five himself no less. You decide to just let yourself enjoy it.
A few moments of silence pass over the two of you before you speak up again, this time with a teasing tone. “I didn’t expect Five Hargreeves to be such a good dancer.” He meets your eyes again and your breath catches. Thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice.
“My father trained us in ballroom dancing. Said it would help with our coordination, or something about dancing being an important skill,” he says, and as he talks there’s a far-off look in his eyes. “He was old-fashioned like that.”
You try not to get excited about all that you’ve learned about Five so far. He said us, which suggests he has siblings and the words “trained” and “coordination” seem to suggest more teachings than a regular father would give.
“He sounds like an interesting fellow,” you comment. Five snorts derivatively.
“That’s one way to describe him.” You don’t want to push him for more information since you’ve already gotten more in the last few seconds than you have the last few months. But you also don’t want the conversation to end or for him to regret telling you so you offer something up in return.
“I used to take dance lessons when I was a kid, my own idea,” you say, smiling fondly. “Of course, it turns out I was terrible at dancing, and I quit after a year.” Five laughs, and your chest swells with pride as you smile back.
“You don’t seem so terrible right now,” he offers, a rare compliment from the man.
“I suppose a few lessons must have stuck,” you say. “That, or I have an excellent partner.”
“Must be the latter,” Five says, causing both of you to laugh. When your eyes meet again, and the two of you are caught smiling, something seems to change in the air. You two continue to dance, but Five doesn’t look away this time, instead giving you an earnest look. You don’t look away either. You hold your breath, afraid that one false move might ruin this moment. But everything good must come to an end eventually.
The music stops, and it’s as if Five snapped out of a trance, for he quickly looks away and clears his throat. You can’t help but feel a bit disappointed. “I think now’s the time to begin the search,” he says, all traces of amusement gone.
You recover yourself and nod. “Yes, right.” Five then takes off towards the staircase and you’re close on his heels. You nervously glance around before making a bold move. You catch his hand and grab his arm with your other hand, snuggling into his side with a giddy smile plastered on your face.
Five appears taken aback by your actions. “W-what the hell are you doing?” he asks, his face reddening.
“Keeping up appearances, remember?” you say still with a smile. “It’s a bit less suspicious for a couple to sneak off somewhere together than two individuals.”
“Right,” he says, but still seems very uncomfortable, only managing a tight smile as a cover.
†††
Once you’re out of sight, you immediately let Five go. You feel a tad embarrassed by your actions, but you were only trying to keep yourselves from getting caught. Five leads the way to the office located in the building, remembering the blueprints you studied together.
The door is locked when you find it, but Five simply teleports inside and unlocks it for you. You had planned for this; when the two of you were scoping out the place, Five made sure to check out the office from the windows to know what the room looked like.
“Stand guard while I search,” he tells you before walking away. You scrunch your face.
“Why am I standing watch, exactly?”
Without looking up from his search, Five says, “Because you said I could take lead on our missions.” You try to remember your multiple pitches to Five when asking to be his partner. Damn, you did say that.
“I take it back,” you say while maintaining watch of the hallway.
“Too late.” You huff but accept your fate. Your gaze flickers across the hallway, keeping your eyes and ears open for any witnesses. You can faintly hear the music from the first floor and can’t help but wish you were back there, dancing again. Dancing with Five. You shake your head and try not to let your mind wander any further.
After a while of painful silence, Five breezes past you. “I’ve got it,” he says, holding the flash drive in his hand. You smile.
“Finally.” You snatch the flash drive from his hands.
“Hey!” he frowns trying to grab it but you duck out of reach. You giggle and begin to head towards the stairs when suddenly two large men in tuxedos enter the hallway. You turn your head to see two more making their way towards you and Five, and you have a feeling that there are more to come.
You quickly stuff the flash drive into one of your pockets.
“The party’s downstairs kids,” one of the men in front of you says. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Five tense up and see the calculating gaze enter his eyes.
“Silly us, must’ve had too much champagne!” you say, stalling for the inevitable as you prepare yourself. “Well, we’ll just return to the party—”
“I don’t think so,” the other says, revealing a gun.
“That’s alright. I hear the real party’s upstairs anyway.” With those words, you see Five blink from your side to standing behind the two men. You love seeing the shock on people’s faces the first time it happens.
You turn to deal with the other two. “Can’t we just talk this out?” you ask. One of them takes aim and you roll your eyes. “Guess not.”
The bullet fires but you’ve already moved out of the way. You might not have Five’s teleportation, but you’re quick on your feet. You pull out the gun that was strapped to your leg and shoot the weapon out of the man’s hand. He shouts just as his partner fires at you. But you’re running, and the bullet hits the wall.
You manage to get behind the man you haven’t shot and jump on his back. While he struggles to get you off, you shoot his partner in the neck. The man you’re on top of reveals a hidden knife and slashes at you, opening a gash on your right forearm. You hiss and drop off of him. But you shoot his chest three times before he can turn around.
Near the stairs, you see Five standing over the body of two men but more are coming. As you make your way over, you fire at them, careful not to hit Five while he’s blinking around. The two of you manage to take out eight more guards, but somehow they keep coming.  Then you see one man in particular make his way onto the scene.
“I have to say, Palinski,” Michael Lynell says as he catches your gaze. “I’m rather surprised.”
“What, you didn’t think I was just another pretty face, did you?” you ask, as Five tackles the guards around him. It seems you have Michael’s undivided attention. He smiles at you.
“Of course not. I just didn’t expect the Commission to risk such an obviously valuable asset,” he says, looking you up and down. It doesn’t give you the same butterflies as before but rather sends a chill up your spine.
“Allow me to show you how valuable I really am.” You shoot a few bullets at the man but he’s running before they can reach him. You quickly run out of bullets and toss your gun aside, changing to hand-to-hand combat. Your fist collides with his jaw which sends him stumbling back. You smile as he scowls. But soon he’s diving for you and you barely manage to move out of the way.
Your fight continues with a few blows landing on each other when suddenly he clamps his hand down on your bleeding arm, catching you off guard. You struggle but can feel him gaining the upper hand. In a moment of panic, you spot Five not too far away. While fighting against Michael, you manage to catch Five’s eye.
“Run!” you yell. Before he can process what you mean, the flash drive is out of your pocket and you’re tossing it into the air. Five’s eyes widen before quickly blinking over to catch it. As he catches it, Michael tightens his hold on your arm and you bite back a whimper. He pulls you to his chest and puts you in a chokehold. But he doesn’t cut off your breathing. You look to your right to see a gun pointed at your head.
“Drop your weapon!” Michael shouts at Five. Five looks over and you see his eyes widen. Michael’s the last enemy standing, you and Five managed to take on every other one. You try to struggle in his grasp but he only presses the gun further into your head. Five tosses his gun to the side. You assume he also ran out of bullets anyway.
“Now, hand over the flash drive, or I’ll shoot your pretty partner here,” he says in a menacing voice. He’s cocky and you can sense the victorious smile spreading across his lips. But he's not the only one victorious.
You laugh in his hold. “Nice try, but Five here doesn’t care if you shoot me,” you say. You try not to show your hurt and hide the pain in your chest but you know you’re right. This isn’t how you imagined you’d die, but at least you’ll make a hot corpse.
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, pretty,” Michael whispers in your ear, his eyes locked on Five.
Instead of running like you told him to, Five hesitates. To your confusion, he seems to be looking between you and Michael with that calculating gaze. His jaw is set and you can see his frustration from the tightening of his fists.
“Five, what are you doing?” you ask. “Go!” He should have been long gone. He has the flash drive, your mission was a success. Besides, you were only a new partner. As much as you’ve tried, you haven’t managed to get on his good side. He wouldn’t throw away the mission for this.
But then, you watch as Five pulls the flash drive from his pocket. You begin to struggle again, despite the pain of the gun pressing into your skull. Five doesn’t look at you.
“If I hand this over,” Five says. “You let them go.” His voice is seething as he stares Michael down, like he wants to rip him apart. Your mind can barely process what’s happening. You wish he would look at you so that you could try to make some sense of what’s going on in his head, but he refuses to look your way.
“That’s the deal,” Michael says from behind you. In a quieter voice, Michael says to you, “I told you you were valuable.” The sentence sends you to panic more and you shake your head, a bruise beginning to form where the gun is pressing into you.
In a matter of seconds, you watch as Five tosses the flash drive into the air towards Michael. The man shoves you to the ground hard as he tries to catch it. The second he has the object in his grasp, he takes off running.
You groan from your place on the floor. Suddenly you see a flash of blue and Five is leaning over you. His eyes are swimming with concern as he sweeps over your body. Then he locks eyes with you and you feel your breath stop.
“Are you okay?” he asks seriously. His stare is intense and you freeze for a minute. Then you snap back to reality.
“Uh yeah, I’m fine,” you say and Five’s shoulders seem to relax. Then you remember your mission. “Five, he’s getting away!”
“Oh no he’s not,” Five growls as his gaze fills with anger once more. You see Five go from crouching beside you to blinking next to Michael just as he made it to the stairs. You begin to sit up as you watch Five knock the man out, probably killing him. He leans over Michael’s body and you think he says something before he pries the flash drive from his hands.
In a flash, Five is back standing over you. He wordlessly holds out his hand toward you. You grab it and he helps you up. “Thank you,” you say in awe, once again trying to lock eyes with him. But the moment seems to have passed.
“Don’t mention it,” he says, and you have a feeling he isn’t just talking about helping you up.
†††
The car ride back is uneventful, filled with awkward silence. You keep glancing over at Five but his eyes remain focused on the road.
The two of you walk into the motel room, exhausted from the fight. Five prepares to send the flash drive back to the Commission as you watch, unsure of what to do or say. So you say the obvious.
“So, are we not going to talk about it?” you ask. You’re met with silence and you roll your eyes. You reach over to your travel bag and hiss, pulling back your arm.
“You got stabbed, you idiot,” Five says, glancing over his shoulder. Oh, right. You kind of forgot about your injury in your haze of confusion. You hold your arm, wincing at the amount of blood.
“I’ll be fine,” you say, brushing it off. “Just have to patch myself up.”
You search for the motel’s first aid kit. After finding it you plop yourself down in a chair and place the kit on the room’s desk. Then you hesitate, wondering how to proceed single-handedly. Especially using your bad hand. That doesn’t stop you as you open the kit and start to clean the wound. It’s a bit of a struggle and takes you way longer than it should have. You’re also exhausted which doesn’t help.
You hear a sigh and turn to see Five approaching you. “Useless,” he utters as he starts to take over.
“Five, I don’t need your help. I’m fine—”
“Shut up and let me concentrate.” The way he becomes so focused on the task, eyebrows scrunching as he delicately holds your arm, is enough to shut you up more than his words.
“Yes sir,” you whisper, and he rolls his eyes. Silence fills the room as Five wordlessly patches up your wound. You hiss at the rubbing alcohol and he glances up at you, his features softer than normal, before gently continuing the task. You take the time to regard him fondly, watching his small mannerisms and movements.
You get so caught up that the words seem to fall out of your mouth. “Why didn’t you run?” you whisper, trying to keep the moment quiet. He hesitates. “The mission was complete, you had the flash drive. I told you to run.” The question has been eating away at you. Five takes a moment to think before continuing his task.
“They were going to kill you,” he says, as if it was an obvious answer. But nothing about this man seems obvious to you.
“I thought you hated me.”
“I do,” he says and the words seem to hurt despite the fact that you already knew that. “But that doesn’t mean I want you dead.”
Your breath catches as you stare at Five. It’s not much, and for anyone else that sentence would have meant nothing. But you knew that it was Five revealing his feelings for you. Five hates everyone, that's only natural. But this is the first real indication that you mean something to him.
You smile. “For the record, I don’t want you dead either.” Five stops what he’s doing and for the first time since the mansion, he meets your gaze. The two of you hold eye contact for a moment and you swear you see his mouth twitch upwards. Then reality crashes down on both of you and you awkwardly look away while blushing.
Five clears his throat. “This doesn’t change anything,” he says, finishing up the bandaging of your arm.
“Of course not,” you respond, and he seems to hold onto your arm for a moment or two longer than he should have. Then he’s walking away. As you watch him head for the washroom, you both know that that was a lie.
* * * * *
Those who asked for a part 2:
@winchestertitties​ @tua-five​ @violett-s @if-alina​ @shampoocovers99​
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the-anxiety-academy · 2 years
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Five x TEEN!Y/n
Incorrect quotes pt6
⚠Disclaimer⚠ I made this when I was 15 and I no longer post about Five!
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*at Luther and Sloane's wedding*
Five: What the hell were you thinking?
Y/n: I heard releasing birds at a wedding is romantic!
Five: You released OSTRICHES!
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Five: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized.
Y/n: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely*
Five: That one. I want that one.
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Y/n: Five is playing hard to get.
Y/n: Little does he know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.
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Five: I was going to suggest we do Marilyn Monroe and JFK roleplay, but I’d get way too into it.
Y/n: What- how?
Five: You’d be like “come to bed … Mr. President” and I’d be like, “I need to increase the amount of American military advisors in South Vietnam by a factor of 18.”
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Five: You’re not jealous, are you?
Y/n: No!
Five: Good, ‘cause I consider my fake relationship with you a lot more meaningful.
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Y/n: What happened?!
Five: Do you want the long version or the short version?
Y/n: Sh-short??
Five: Shit's fucked.
Y/n: Okay, long.
Five: Shit's very fucked.
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Five: We both look very handsome tonight.
Y/n: You know, if you'd just said that I looked handsome, I would have said, "So do you."
Five: I couldn't take that chance.
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Five: Hey, Y/n. What kind of flowers do you prefer?
Y/n: I like sunflowers.
Five, pulling out a bouquet of Venus Flytraps: Well, shit-
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Five: Ask me anything. Go ahead, I'll give you a straight answer.
Y/n: Why are we so fucking awesome?
Five: That's the best fucking question anybody's ever asked.
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Y/n: That's greatly offensive to my people.
Five: College dropouts?
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Y/n: I don’t even use tubberware anymore.
Five: What are you saying? Say it again.
Y/n: Tubberware.
Five: Say it again. Slow.
Y/n: Tubberware.
Five: Slow, very slow - actually, say the first syllable.
Y/n: Tub.
Five: Wrong.
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Five: So what do you have planned for the future?
Y/n: Lunch.
Five: No, like long term.
Y/n: Oh...um, dinner?
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igotanidea · 2 years
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The umbrella academy incorrect quotes
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y/n : Honestly, Diego was always my favorite of the family.
Five: Is that so?
y/n: Yes. Quite easy to impress. It’s much harder to win you over.
Five: y/n, binge-watching all episodes of House M.D.  in four days does not impress me.
Diego (running into the room) : y/n! You are an expert on medical field, I'm bleeding, what do I do?!
y/n (raising her eyebrows looking at five): See?
2K notes · View notes
soolarity · 2 years
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Five Hargreeves SFW Alphabet
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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
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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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messers-moony · 2 years
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Illness | F.H
Pairing: Five Hargreeves X Fem!Reader
Summary: Five gets sick for the first time in a long time
Five didn’t get sick often. He was always quite careful, so he didn’t catch a cold. But when he did catch a cold? He was a complete asshole to his siblings but also an absolute baby. 
The male hated sickness more than anyone in the world, but one thing that made getting sick worth it was being babied by his loving girlfriend. Granted, being babied hurt his pride but being sick was an excuse to let it happen. 
On this faithful morning of March 24th, Five woke up holding his girlfriend with an excruciating headache. When going to breathe, he realized how stuffy his nose was, and unintentionally he groaned, waking up his girlfriend. 
“ Five, you okay? “ Y/n questioned as she turned around to face the male lying in his back, staring at the ceiling, “ I’m fine. “ Five responded, but his voice said otherwise. 
Y/n smirked slightly, “ Your voice says otherwise. “
“ Shut up. “ Five groaned, moving to snuggle into the crook of her neck, “ You got sick from yesterday, huh? “ Y/n asked, raking her fingers through his hair. 
Five nodded with a slight whimper, “ I’m gonna get up and get you some medicine, okay? “ Y/n spoke as she pulled away, but Five only pulled her closer, “ No. Stay. “ 
“ Five’s your head isn’t gonna get better if I don’t get you some medicine. I know your head hurts like a bitch. “ Y/n informed, “ But you’re so warm, and I feel so cold. “ Five whined. 
“ I’ll be three minutes max, okay? “ The female announced as she left the bed, leaving her whiney boyfriend. 
She walked downstairs and grabbed some cold medicine from the cabinet. It wasn’t anything terrific, but it would definitely help lessen the length of the cold. Sighing, she held a cup of warm water and brought it upstairs along with the medicine. 
Upon entering the room, she found Five already sound asleep with his head buried in her pillow, probably breathing in her scent. Y/n set the glass of water on his nightstand and put the medicine beside it. 
Carefully she shook him, “ Fives, I need you to take this medicine. Then you can go back to sleep. “ Y/n’s soft voice rang through his ears, yet it felt so loud, making him groan, “ Mhm. “ Five hummed as he sat up. 
Y/n picked up the medicine and handed it to him, resulting in him placing it into his mouth. She took the glass in her hand and tilted it to his mouth as he swallowed both the contents. 
Five looked miserable. His cheeks were red, along with his nose. He looked unbearably tired, and his forehead was piping hot. Y/n gently kissed his forehead as she placed the water back on the night table. 
Her boyfriend had sunk back into the bed, falling asleep almost instantly. Y/n chuckled and moved the hair out of his face. Gently she kissed his cheek, making him smile subconsciously. 
Y/n walked back downstairs to see Diego, Allison, Klaus, and Luther at the table, obviously more awake than Y/n was. 
“ Morning, guys. “ Y/n greeted as she started making coffee, “ Where’s Five? Usually, he’s up before you. “ Luther questioned. 
“ He’s sick. Probably best not to disturb him today. You know how his temper is when he’s sick. “ Y/n informed, “ Who knew a little cold could take down the little psycho. “ Klaus teased. 
Allison scoffed, “ He just liked when Y/n babies him. “ 
“ And if he does? “ Y/n inquired, sitting on the counter with her coffee, “ Nothing. It’s just different to see Five enjoy being babied. “ Allison defended. 
“ You know, big and robust Five secretly enjoys being the little spoon. “ Klaus laughed, and Y/n shrugged, “ I’m not sayin’. “ Y/n replied. 
“ Y/n! “ Five’s voice echoed from upstairs, making her jump down from the counter, “ And that’s my cue. if you need me, talk to me by here. “ Y/n informed, pointing to her brain, referring to her telepathy. 
Y/n ran up the steps and into her shared room with her boyfriend. She found a whining boy lying on his bed. Gently she sat next to him, and his head instantly went to her lap, curling around her right leg. 
“ What did you need? “ Y/n asked as she ran her fingers through his day-old hair, “ You. “ Five’s muffled voice spoke. 
Y/n blushed, and Five slept soundly with her beside him now. To be honest, Y/n was bored out of her mind, but she didn’t really want to leave him, knowing he wouldn’t be the happiest if he woke up alone. 
It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy his company. It’s just she didn’t plan on him to fall asleep on her lap, and her book was across the bedroom. Then she heard footsteps outside the door. 
“ Can whoever’s outside Five’s door come here. “ Y/n spoke loudly enough for the person to hear but for Five not to wake up, the door then opened. 
Allison appeared in the doorway, “ Yes? “ Allison inquired, “ Can you hand me my book on Five’s desk, please? “ Y/n politely questioned. 
Without a second thought, Allison grabbed the book and handed it to Y/n. She stood there for a minute, looking at her sleeping brother in Y/n’s lap. Allison smiled softly. 
“ He’s awfully cuddly, huh? “ Allison lightly teased, “ He’s sick, Allison. “ Y/n retorted. 
Allison sighed, “ I know, I know. It’s just we never get to see Five act sweet. He seems so cold and hard on the outside. It’s just a nice change of scenery to see him look and act so soft. “ Softly spoke, Allison, as Five nuzzled further into her lap. 
“ See! He’s being all soft and lovey. “ Allison quietly exclaimed, making Y/n lightly chuckle, “ He’s always like this, just not around you guys. “ Y/n responded. 
“ Why? “ The adult questioned, “ Truthfully? He doesn’t want you guys to make fun of him for being all ‘soft and lovey’. “ Y/n replied. 
Allison looked down with a sense of guilt, “ When he’s in the right frame of mind, tell him we won’t make fun of him. “ Allison said as she walked toward the door, “ I’ll be sure to let him know. “ The teen girl responded. 
Allison left the room and the door shut with a click. Y/n began reading through her book as her hand gently moved in Five’s hair and down his arm, soothing him as he slept. 
“ Princess. “ Five rasped as he had just woken up, “ What do you need? “ Y/n asked softly as she closed her book. 
Five smiled and pulled closer to her, “ I love you so much. “ 
“ I love you so much more. “ Y/n responded to her half-asleep boyfriend, “ And that’s why I’m gonna marry you someday. “ Five muttered, making her face light aflame. 
Y/n chuckled through the blush, “ You’re loopy from the medicine. “ Y/n spoke, “ I might be a little, but I know what I’m saying. “ Five responded. 
“ Why would you wanna marry me? “ Y/n queried, and Five sighed dreamily, “ Because you’re perfect. You love me through everything, even our fights. You know how to make good coffee, and you always reassure me when I need it most. You’re my girl, and I’ll be damned if I let you slip out of my grasp. “ Five explained as his hand gently rubbed her outer thigh. 
“ You are such a hopeless romantic, Five Hargreeves. “ Y/n complimented, “ Only for you. “ Five smiled.
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sagelovesbooks · 2 years
Text
What Happens Behind The Curtains.
Tag: Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader, Five being a little clingy, just pure fluff, no smut.
A/n: This is a prompt I found so I decided to do it. Basically, you write for two characters including no dialogue, just the two being domestic together without others being involved. Five is aged up in this.
Summary: Where you and Five live the quiet, domestic life you had once thought would never happen.
Word count: idk
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It was a quiet morning. For once. Five's siblings, are currently on a trip, leaving the house to Five and Y/n for the weekend. Thank god.
Usually, the two would wake up to the sound of someone's voice, somehow sounding throughout the house, running through the halls, or screaming. Always eventful and never a moment of peace.
Now it's quiet. Completely silent. No running through the halls or voices sounding through the walls.
It was pure bliss.
Y/n felt Five, nuzzling into her warmth, holding her close to him. His arms were wrapped around her tight, blankets draped over them, legs entangled with one another.
Sunlight shone through the curtains, bringing light to the once, completely dark room.
Five grumbled. Taking notice of the light, he dug his head further into Y/n's shoulder. Y/n took a deep breath, moving her arms from their resting position, and rubbing her eyes. She turned around, after gently nudging Five to remove the arm that rests under her frame. Once he does, sleepily, she turns to face him and sees his puffy eyes, not yet opened out of their hazy state.
There was a lot to admire about him. His jawline was one of the most noticeable things about him. Yet, surprisingly, that wasn't what caught Y/n's attention when she first met him.
It was the forest-green eyes that were currently shut, in sleep.
She gently brushed the hair that was crowding his face to the side, taking a moment to admire him. Her lips turned up, eyes unknowingly getting brighter the longer she looks at him.
He stirs, mumbling incoherently, his eyes then fluttering open. His eyes meet with the ones admiring him and he feels his heart warm as he copies the woman, admiring her features as well.
It's a quiet moment that's shared between the two, simply cherishing each other in the tranquil moments of the morning.
The coffee is warm and steaming, the mug set between the woman's two hands as her lover's arms rest around her, his chin leaning against her shoulder, and the back of her head resting against his shoulder.
The two appreciate the scenery outside, birds and bugs flying around. The sun, still bright and shining from its recent awakening, sets the sky in its usual position as it shines down, raining the earth with its light.
Even though the two haven't spoken a word, the quiet moments that are shared between the two are enough to make up for the loss of words that usually fill each other's ears, now being completely silent.
A movement is made, the coffee now held up to Five's lips in a silent 'Take a sip.' He obliges, feeling the warmth of the liquid, make its way down his throat as it matches the warmth of the woman in his arms.
He drapes himself against her, the back of his head resting against her chest as he allows himself to bring his focus onto the book resting in his hands.
Socks are clad against his feet, as well as a blanket, draped over the bodies of the two resting on the couch, indulging in each other's presence. It isn't cold for the two when they're resting in each other's arms.
Body heat is passed between the two, as they rest in silence with one another, the quiet moment, still unruined.
There's a lot that happens behind closed curtains. Sometimes it's just better that way.
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silky-slinky · 2 years
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WEDDING AIR !
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FIVE HARGREEVES X FEM!READER PAIRING !
FIVE HARGREEVES MASTERLIST !
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Five had to double take at you arriving and stepping out of the elevator. His mouth slightly parting at the sight of you. He couldn't believe his eyes. You weren't one for dressing up, always opting for comfortable clothes. It made you incredibly confident with what you were wearing, it hugged your curves well, the color making your skin-pop out. Safe to say you weren't the only one thinking of that.
You had grown accustomed to these people, so far to call them your own family. Caring for them as if they were your family by blood. Klaus is your closest friend there, alongside Five who you caught feelings for ever since spending time with him.
Your eyes panned to everyone, their eyes boring into yours. “Y/n/n! You look amazing!” Klaus quickly went over to your side, linking his arms with yours. As you watched Diego and Lila approaching the both of you, the others sent you a smile.
“Can't lie, Y/n. You do look amazing.” Diego said with a smile.
“Yeah, it's surprising you dressed up,” Lila said with a laugh. You even surprised yourself by dressing up. Well, you had to of course, for the sake of Luther and Sloane's wedding in the middle of an inevitable apocalypse.
“Why thank you, everyone. It's a once-in-a-lifetime experience to attend a wedding in the middle of an apocalypse.” Courtly smiling at them while taking Klaus away from the group whilst his arm was still linked to yours.
Your eyes scanned the venue, with gorgeous lights that decorated the ceiling. The dance floor illuminated your faces as you made your way towards Five's table, Klaus still linked to your arm, looking like a lost puppy.
With Five's stare, you got uncomfortable right away. Was it the dress you were wearing? Your hair didn't look the way you thought it looked? Your make-up didn't match your dress? Five looking like a fish out of water. And you got more and more anxious when he didn't say anything, just staring at you. While Klaus was long gone, wandering off and pestering whoever he wanted to.
Your hands gestured to your dress and face after a few seconds of awkward staring. “Well? What d'ya think?” An awkward smile adorning your face.
Five's eyes looked at you up and down, stopping right at your (e/c) eyes. “I think...” He stopped and trailed off. “I think you look beautiful.”
After so many years of being in love and being friends with this man-child? This was the only thing he said that was a compliment.
You sat down next to him, “I dressed up. Who knows what'll happen next.” You shrugged your shoulders at him.
“I'm glad you did.” Five giving you a tight-lipped smile. He was uncomfortable with his heart beating so loudly, he's fought back his feelings and he wasn't about to accidentally out himself.
“I was about to say you aren't so bad yourself but I realized you're wearing the same thing you had earlier. Nevertheless, you look amazing.”
Five hated you with all his guts.
Five hated how you made him melt just by smiling at him.
Five hated how his heart would beat so fast when you were in the room.
Five hated how sweaty his palms would be if you were sitting beside him.
Five hated how he loved you more than himself.
And so he found himself drinking his problems away. The world ending and you. He never knew why he felt things for you. Hell, he didn't even feel these things when he was with Dolores.
“Five, stand up.” You had found Five in one of the elevators as you were going back to your room, drunk and unconscious. Surprisingly, you didn't drink even a sip of the booze everyone was drinking. You weren't a fan of alcoholic drinks in the first place.
“Y/n?” Five grumbled into your touch as you took one arm of his onto your shoulders to support his weight. The way to your room consisted of countless attempts to pry away from you. Several times your name was called out by him and every time he would, you'd tune him out.
By the time you arrived at your room, you were fed up by Five. Reminding yourself to never interact with a drunk Five. You were lucky enough to have a room of your own, you opted to lay Five down on your bed rather than going to the boy's room where Diego and Lila were probably shagging each other.
“Y/n.” Another whine came from his mouth, to which you rolled your eyes. One thing you were known for was your thin patience.
“Yes, Five?” Egging him to continue.
Five seemingly sober than before, he sat up on your bed. “Y'know? I hate you.” A chuckle left your lips. “Why?”
“Because you make me feel things I shouldn't feel.” Your heart raced incredibly fast. What did he mean by that?
“What?” You stammered over your words, stumbling back to the wall when he stood up and walked your way.
“I love you, Y/n.” Five could hear your breath hitch from how close he was standing in front of you, almost towering over you.
“Five, you're drunk.” Your hands pushed him away, making your way to the door, to which you could hear Five's feet following yours.
Your mouth left a gasp as you feel Five's hand wrapping around your wrist to stop you from leaving the room. “I'm drunk but I'm not dumb. I love you, Y/n. I always did.” Your whole body turned to face him, eyes glossy as tears threatened to spill.
Thoughts came racing to your mind, was he telling you the truth? Why now? Why did he pick a time when everything was going to shit? Why?
“Five...” Your mouth suddenly dried out. You called his name but no words wanted to leave your mouth.
By this time both of his hands were on yours, giving you the softest look he could ever muster up. It wasn't easy for him to be this open with expressing his feelings. All his life he never knew how to.
“I love you too.” Five let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in, as he hugged you tighter than he's ever done.
“Why'd you confess now?” You say with suspicion laced in your voice.
“Probably the wedding air.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “and of course, the end of the world.” He says as he pressed his lips into yours.
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THAT'S ALL, MORE TO COME !
- ★
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p0m3gr4netel0v3 · 2 years
Text
𝗖𝗼𝘇𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴
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꒰♡꒱...warning(s) : nothing but tooth rotting fluf.
꒰♡꒱...five hargreeves x gn!reader
꒰♡꒱...five hargreeves modern day headcannons
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No matter what he always wakes up before you. making himself a cup of coffee and some breakfeast for the two of you, then he go's to wake you up with a few light shakes to your shoulder.
This man knows how to cook, extremely well. He loves to cook dinner for the two you all the time, he'll never let you cook, only if you really insist he'll let you cause he cant say no to your puppy dog eyes.
Even though he would never admit it, he absolutely looooooves rainy days with you. He loves that you can both can just lay in bed all day and cuddle. He loves that he doesnt have to worry about work or other things, infact its one of the few times his mind actually feels at peace.
He says he dosent like animals, but as soon as you buy a cat, or a dog, or any other kind of animal, he immediately loves them. Often times he gives them a few more treats than they're supposed to have,
He has such a big soft spot for you. Its just the way you smile, and the way your eyes light up, it just captivates him so much and he cant explain why.
Has everything that you like/the way you like things mesmerized. Knows Exactly how you like your coffee or tea, knows the exact taste of music you have, knows all of your favorite foods.
He despises amusement parks. Though he'll never admit it but the rides absolutely terrify him, but if it makes you happy he'll go with you to one. He'd do absolutely anything for you if it meant he'd be able to see your smile.
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m4nd0l0r · 2 years
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Hungered Sin.
Description: Desire is a humanly feeling, it bubbles and foams— and it’s either one acts upon it, or let it simmer pathetically down the drain.
Ship: Five Hargreeves x GN! Reader
Word Count: 1.2k (this was supposed to be short uhhh)
Author’s Note: (short note 4 tonight :”)) guess who wrote this at 2am….. i did— this is just pure horny (smut (not piv LMFAO) specifically) (about temptation and what not) born from their parent named academic stress (cough i struggled writing this a little so if its clunky..i’m sorry 😭)… if this has any typos- welp…i’ll going to fix any of those… in the morning (or someday we’ll never know)!— anyway- i hope you giys like this one! (i loved writing this even tho i fought tooth and nail w my docs w this-) (likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!! they motivate sm fr)
(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@fivelegance @ne0boss @twauna00 @placidpluto@eichenhouseproperty @heartsforsuyin @ghostlywavelengths@ghostlycherryblossomwonderland @seconds-not-decades@coolcatlover4 @emotionally-unstabel @peachy-wolfhard @its-lokilocked @raven-fandomtrash @theilliterateskankula@magicstrange @venusrambles @whereintheworldisspencerreid@honeycombdumbass @kazuive @oscarisaacsleftballsack@zenithinthebin @peachteeaaa @rchaoz @wickedmystery@wordsandnerds @umbrellatte @666abby6666@iameddiemunsonshair @starlightinhumanform @vennythearsonist@trashmouthsahra @crinklypink @halfumbrella@wifeofcamillamacaulay (if you want to be removed/added, pls tell me via pm!!)
“Can I hug you?” 
You asked him in a soft breath, dressed in a dark pinkish mauve turtleneck. It was somewhat tight, wrapping its cloth unto your body as if it were some sort of clay. It wasn’t your usual color, always somewhat preferring something else— and yet Five still stares, focusing, and as entranced as he can be. 
His eyes always find their way trailing to wherever he pleases. A ‘curious’ look coats his pupils as he unabashedly stares. And you plainly see it, every damn time— he doesn’t even try to hide it. 
He always, always- made himself obvious, as if he was letting you watch himself unfold right in front of you. 
And as you look him in the eye, daring to lick your bottom lip right in front of him. You don’t ask him why he stares, because you’re doing this on purpose. The glint in your pupils was too mischievous, even from you. 
Five has a good eye, that’s something you were- if not, need to be- sure of. 
He notices everything— he just does. It would be stupid to assume he wasn’t keen- observant even. 
Every time his fingers fasten his blazer- his wrists, swivelling as he adjusts his cuffs— or even when he holds something- even just a bottle, it always intrigues you— makes you cast your eyes right to his fingertips, a devilish gleam coats you. 
Honestly, he questions whenever you gawk unto his hands- supposedly, there was nothing much to marvel at. Blunt clean fingernails to keep jobs easier— filled with callouses from working with digging off scraps, adjusting weapons to fit his precision- his knuckles whitening from the amount of times skin has been scraped off and bloodied. 
And yet, you were so enthralled with such a simple thing- to the point that it drives him mad- Insane even, it surprises him on how you could be so interested in something so plain. 
But he would be a liar if he said he wasn’t amused. 
A tingly, warm feeling courses through Five’s veins as if he were some sort of addict, injecting himself with what the world can offer, and in this case, it was need. 
“Of course, angel.” His voice low, it rolls smoothly as if it were silk. 
A realization settled on his part- it was also want. The impulse to feel, to fully caress, he wants to embrace you even closer, to further bind you to his skin— your blood simultaneously pumps through your heart as his syncs with yours. 
The burning itch, as if flames would eat him alive if he dares not to think of it— to not think of pressing his lips up to the back of your neck, or on the crook by your pulse. 
The sheer pure want that settles into his lungs, the urge to breathe you in— He stops himself, letting himself feel you suddenly leave open kisses onto his face, a wind’s touch to clouds; light yet so rousing. 
“That wasn’t part of your deal.” Five teases, you only sigh unto his cheek, chuckling. 
“C’mon- can’t I kiss you out of all people?” Your voice drawls, a raised brow is drawn from your face. It only serves to make him laugh. 
“You don’t even need to ask.” He clarifies, shaking his own head. Your mouth shapes itself like clay, and he only sees your toothy smile— it was genuine; an artisan’s craft, and he merely admires it.  
Your lips press down almost roughly but still so soft as you hold his face by your palms. Your breath tickling his skin as if you were the sun to the sea. And one kiss after another, he was sure you would leave kiss marks, and as much as he hated messes, damn it- he likes it. 
He felt perverted, for liking it this much— your simple kisses bubbled something in his chest, and it was drowning him. 
It was as if something set off in him; a fire fed with fuel, as he felt your fingertips slide further by his ears, right at the crook of his nape.  You lightly caress his head as you leave another kiss right beside his mouth- and he only leans in further. 
His hands slip- wrapping his fingers unto yours as he guides them down from his own face to his upper arms. Your face quivers in confusion, but it fades, his palms hike down to your sides, to your waist— He pulls you close to him, pushing his lips to yours. 
You merely open your mouth, his tongue muffling a sound that escapes your throat— You grip onto his shoulders almost tightly, and his only reaction was a smile that you felt form on your own lips. He lets his hands slither underneath your sweater, caressing so softly to your supple skin. 
And he was sure— that he fell into this trap, letting himself become strung unto the threads of temptation. That this hunger for you has grown as each day passes, and his need to feast merely grows precariously; an invasive weed to a perfect field. 
He presses himself closer to you, throwing you off- and his hands only further skid through the creases of your back— the pads of his fingertips cold compared to the warmth of your skin. He can’t help it— the pure festered desire just can’t quell itself, and all he finds himself wanting is more. 
Adjusting his head, he tilts himself, your teeth bump into each other but he doesn’t mind— he wants this, he needs to be closer- and god— Your hips pressed to his, roughly shifting yourself to match his movements. His pelvis teasingly slides down, hiking back up and burying himself unto your own, your body tenses.
He slips out a shaky groan— He could have sworn he felt his own eyes flutter out of shock. His fingers almost painfully dig down to your skin, and you hum in response. “Fuck.“ His eyes roll, a guttural grunt slipping again from his throat. Before you could even come back to the depths of his lips— His hands- still underneath your sweater- trail to your bare sides, making you shudder. 
He almost stopped- a small impulse sprouts itself to go back up and to press his lips against yours— But he doesn’t— feeling you push yourself to his palms, urging- silently pleading him to continue— and his laugh vibrates, a searing sensation against you. 
“You really want this?” He whispers to your ear, warm to your flushed skin. You merely form a small serpentine grin, not even hesitating to murmur a silken yes so low he almost didn’t even hear it- yet, it dares to shudder a ripple unto his own spine.
He drags his lips again unto you— and you only huff breathily, echoing a hum of pleasure as Five trails up. His hands grasp unto you, and he forces himself to watch, to see the glint of deconcentration that shone in your eyes because of him. How your mouth shaped into an “O” just as you felt him touch— The way you tried to hide your now aflamed face, only receiving another chuckle as his fingers slipped even lower, briefly touching your waist. 
Damn it- This— you were a pure act of desecration; the destroying of his own control. It was irreverent-  sinful, to even think that he needs, desires you this much. 
It was as if he were a man desperate to get even a drop from an oasis’s springs in a desert full of sand and grime threatening to choke him with each breath he takes; he was simply feeling something quell in his throat, it was as if it were thirst— or even worse, it was hunger. 
He knows— Fascination wraps unto him; an anchor into the depths of desire.
And all his sight lets him conjure is you, the one who plagues his dreams with temptation— merely watching him sink down with it. 
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ourgoddessathena · 2 years
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Five : "You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you."
Y/N : "I want you to eat three meals a day, drink less coffee, and have a decent sleep schedule."
Five : "Absolutely not."
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rcksmith · 2 years
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Last night of the world — Five Hargreeves
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You can find the 3 request here: anonymous 1, anonymous 2, anonymous 3.
Resume: Luther's wedding was an ironic joke for Five Hargreeves, especially with the apocalypse knocking at the door. But, that night, when Five looked at you and his breath escaped his lungs, he understood his brother. Beause he would marry you too on the last night of the world if he could.
Fluff prompts:
5. ”Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”
11. “Wow- you look…amazing.” 
15. “Because i love you god damnit!”
16. “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass..” “I heard that!” “You were supposed to!”
20. “How am i supposed to spoil you when you wont accept my gifts?”
40. “Come cuddle.”
Couple: Five Hargreeves /Fem!Reader.
Warnings: just swearing, little angst, mention of death, VERY FLUFF.
Word count:3k.
A/N: Spoiler from season 3.
Because I have a lot of requests in my box, I compile 3 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 ❤️
———
He can remember to this day. The taste of heaven on the top of his tongue, his heart suddenly racing into an uncontrollable rhythm, the sensation of an icy shiver coursing through his body and igniting a hot flame deep in his chest. It was like seeing the muse of a Renaissance painting: exciting, destabilizing. And all your splendor made the soul of Five Hargreeves want to kneel for you in eternal devotion.
You were breathtaking. And even after years, he can still remember that moment.
Five is not a man who is easily impressed, nor is he snatched by any woman. He is firm, rational and practical. But meeting you… in all your glory as a God-decorated angel, made him want to admit the existence of the divine and drown himself in your religion.
It only took a few months for Hargreeves to realize that the earth's rotation only made sense when you were by his side, directing smiles towards him that made he feel like he was in the heart of the sun, that awakened the will to…be good. At least the best possible, for you. To have the illusion that he could deserve you.
Maybe if Five Hargreeves tried to be a better man when he was by your side, he could fool the gods, life or fate, that he deserved you. And so no one would take you away from him. Maybe.
The relationship of you two was something inevitable, unstoppable, Five held you like it was a miracle and didn't dare let go anymore. You were one of those once-in-a-lifetime things, and he wasn't going to risk losing you. But, lucky for Five, you loved him just as much as Phyllis loved Demophon.
There was an unspoken promise surrounding the love of the two of you, the unshakable conviction that you would remain side by side, until the end of the world.
"You are so lost in thought." Your voice snapped Five out of his reverie, bringing him back to reality.
A reality many years later. Where the end of the world knocked at the door, once again. Where his dysfunctional family was trapped in that strange and confusing reality. A reality where, in the midst of impending death, Luther was getting married.
When did time go by so fast?
It was at that moment that the blue eyes with ocean hues were in your direction, and just like so many years ago, Five lost his breath, his reason and his understanding of the world. The red silk clung to every curve of your body like an embrace of perfection, your skin was glistening under the lights of the hotel's ballroom, leaving you looking like a fantasy too good to have come true.
Holy fuck.
“Wow-’’  His voice got stuck on the way from brain to mouth, too perplexed how someone like you could be real. “You look…amazing.” 
The sincerity in his voice, charged with a tremor and veneration, made the hairs on your arms stand on end and your heart race like horses in a race. How, after so many years, could he still look at you as if you were the most beautiful deity among the Greek gods? There was a pure love deep in his eyes that always made your soul tremble.
"You look wonderful too." You flashed a big smile, running your hand down his arm. “I love you in a suit.”
Five made a mocking sound, like a half laugh, as he looked away for a second before turning his attention to you.
"You always say that."
"Because it's true"
Your body came close to his without hesitation, being greeted by Five's warm arm around your waist. His touch became firmer as he pulled you a little closer, as if, unconsciously, he firming up territory.
“What were you thinking?” He looked at you in an inquisitive way “When I arrived. What were you thinking?”
"In you." His answer came as firm as his grip, and your heart leapt in chest. “More specifically the first time I saw you.”
There was something about the way Five Hargreeves looked at you. Something mysterious, passionate, hot as the fire of sin and sweet as the gates of paradise. Something that made you feel like you were living a true love story. Emotions curled at the top of your throat, and you knew you would cry if you uttered a single syllable. So you just laid your head on his shoulder, snuggling into the person who was the reason you were still breathing.
“What are the plans for tonight?” Your voice came out when you were sure you wouldn't cry, looking back into his eyes.
“My only plan for tonight is to get fucked up beyond all recognition” Then his mouth got closer to your ear and became wicked when said "And fuck you so fucking hard that I'm going to break the bed"
Hot shivers licked up your spine to the back of your neck, heat in your belly rose to your eyes, and you smiled broadly, full of sinful expectation.
Five's promises were never in vain.
”Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.” he said.
Your cheeks flushed and you smiled even wider, the blood pulsing hard in your veins, following the same rhythm as your passionate heart.
Hargreeves bit his teeth as he tightened his grip on your waist. “You teasing little thing.”
You laughed loud, letting him lead you to one of the tables and you said softly  “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass...” 
“I heard that!” 
“You were supposed to!”
----
No one knew - or cared - what time it was, the height of dawn was always perfect for rampant alcohol and dubious behavior. Nights were made for choices that weren't made during the day.
At that moment, forever was in that ballroom, with drunk people and loud music. The colored lights pulsed like a car engine, contributing alcohol to cloud and inhibit the rationality of everyone in the room.
The world was ending and each one there found a different poetic meaning for the situation.
Luther found his in his wife, Klaus clung to his father's plans and lived that night not as the last, but as the beginning of something, just like Ben. Viktor found his in the peace that existed in the idea of - finally - putting an end to that drama of apocalypses, which followed him from timeline to timeline.
For Five Hargreeves, his poetic meaning was you.
His eyes were heavy and his mind light, but he would have to be completely blind for not recognize that, whenever he looked in your direction, you were the most breathtaking girl of the universe.
Would he stop venerate you as a goddess? No.
He stood there for a few seconds, next to someone he didn't care who it was, his eyes completely mesmerized on you. Like you was the most dangerous siren at sea, and he was just a sailor totally at your mercy.
Your body, trapped in that fucking maddening red silk gown, was covered in a fine mist of sweat that lit your skin like pirate treasure. Your hair was unruly and coming out of hairstyle, but the strands that fell under the lap of your breasts took his breath away. It should be considered a cardinal sin the way your body was moving, and Five would have dropped to his knees for you if he could spend eternity there, watching you dance.
“I don't think I've ever seen you look like that.” It sounded like Klaus' voice, but Five didn't want to take his eyes off you to check it out.
“I don't have any expression on my face.” He said the first thing that came to his mind, even though he didn't believe his own words.
How could anyone keep a complacent expression when you looked like that? So miraculous that Five questioned his sanity. There was something about you that kept him wrapped around your finger, so fervently in love, whipped with just one look you gave him. Your image was like a renaissance miracle, a glimpse novelists had of paradise.
God sure was a woman…because there was no explanation for you being so divinely beautiful.
“she’s just…wow”
Klaus must have said something, but Five didn't deign to pay attention, his concentration too focused on the way your body moved, the sway of your hips that moved his ocean. Your every move was a tsunami on his sea, every twirl was a rotation on his Earth, you were shaking Five's entire existence and didn't even notice.
You may have fallen in love with him first, but he fell in love hardest.
That's when your eyes met his, in a fatal connection that made Five's soul tingle. Your smile was the second shot at his sanity, and at that moment, at a stupid wedding, Hargreeves wondered why the hell he never made an event like this be a moment of the two of you?
Why did he never ask you to marry him?
And in that second, watching you dance with Viktor, he found no reason not to.
Fuck it.
With each step Five took toward you, charged with purpose, the more the sense of certainty inside him grew, like a thunderous sound.
“I'm going to have to steal the most beautiful woman of the night.'' Five told his brother, who tried to hide his laughter at his drunken, uninhibited state.
A delicious flush crept up your cheeks, coloring your skin to a shy tinge that made Five want to run his tongue at the maddening color.
“All yours” Viktor was still trying not to laugh as he handed you to his night-black-haired brother.
“Come cuddle.” Five's drunk voice teased you as he pulled you as close to him as he could.
“You know that the most beautiful woman of the night is a bride, don't you?” it was your first speech as you settled youself with his warm, masculine, possessive hand on the small of your back.
“Not for me.” His voice brushed your jaw, lowering to your neck as if Five were inhaling the scent of your soul. “Never for me.”
Five was drunk, you knew that, he smelled like expensive whisky and masculine cologne, but there was something about his sincerity abounding in his drunkenness that made your heart pound. Hargreeves could be very good at hiding his feelings on a day-to-day basis, but that fell apart when alcohol drowned out his demons.
Was that what he thought whenever he looked at you? That you were the most beautiful woman, in every single night? Did he look at you with that oblique glow and in his mind he secretly venerate you?
You've never wanted a positive response so much in your life, because that's exactly how you feel about him. Your heart has long had the name 'Five Hargreeves' tattooed in red-hot iron, and the wish you've asked the shooting stars is that yours would also be tattooed on Five's heart too.
it wasn't too much to ask...
“I love the way you smell.” You buried your nose in his neck, letting the male body rock you completely, just not touching you with both hands because he held a bottle of whisky in his left.
Five let out a sound that could be described as disbelieving laughter. "i've been drinking for hours."
“But I can still smell your real scent.” You joked, reaching up to the back of his head whit your hands.
Hargreeves rummaged his shoulders, in a way to draw your attention to his face, pulling your eyes from your favorite hiding place. When you did, there were so many emotions pouring out of the blue Egyptian eyes that made your soul shivered.
“What do I smell like?” A question so innocent, pure, almost childish, but one that was able to quicken your pulse as quickly as a wildfire.
There was no hesitation in your voice as you replied: “Home.”
A hot feeling licked Five from head to toe, shaking his structures and revoking all the foundations of his life. It should be a crime for you to say such things. It should be a crime for you to be so beautiful that it physically hurt. It should be a crime to be that passionate for you. So, whit his chest sinking with overwhelming emotions and feelings, Hargreeves made the only coherent decision: he kissed you.
Kissed you because his ribcage would explode if he didn't. Kissed you because every cell in his body screamed that no longer belonged to him, but to you.
Mine, mine, mine. That's what Five thought as drowned the sins on your heavenly lips.
“I want to marry you.” His voice was still swallowed by your lips, because he refused to pull away.
"But..." one more kiss ''we already...'' one more kiss ''we're married.''
"No." the firmness in his voice shook your heart  “I want a stupid wedding like this stupid event. I want to hear the idiotic speeches of my father and my siblings, and say that I want this hell to end when in fact I'm reveling in the fact that everyone is gathered just to see my wife. Because i love you god damnit! '' his statement left no space for a answer, because Five swallowed your breath with another incendiary kiss “I want to see you in white, and recite silly vows when in fact my love for you is much more than these ready-made words. I want to give you my last name, keep you by my side as the only Mrs. Hargreeves… I want… why the fuck have I never asked you to marry me before?!”
Five couldn't tell if you were crying or smiling, but he was relieved by the tight way you were holding him. Of course it wasn't the best of statements, he was never good with sentimental shit, but something in the way you looked at him shocked said he said something very right.
“I should propose to you in a better way.” His speech was cut off by a hiccup from the alcohol. “fucking hell…'' his gaze wandered slowly across the room and stopped at the stage, where Ben and Klaus were singing some horrible bullshit ''I already know…'' his drunk mind went back to you again ''I'll sing for you.''
Your laughter overcame the tears, and the automatic question left your mouth. “Why,babe?’’
"Because I want to make a decent proposal, give you something more worth telling people about later."
You were going to say a thousand things, but Five cut you off by the look in your eyes "How am I supposed to spoil you when you wont accept my gifts?”
Five Hargreeves didn't give you a chance to argue, didn't give you a second to recover from a breathtaking statement, and you felt like crying in anger at yourself when he was already away from you, on his way to the stage. You wanted to say that you loved him from the first second, that you worshiped him more than the Greeks worship Zeus. You didn't need a proposal, a big wedding, a official celebration, you always knew you were his wife. And you wanted him to know that too, wanted him to understand that, nothing he wasn't ready to do, you would push him to do. His reserved and sour nature wasn't a problem and you were always completely happy with what you had. Because that meant having Five on your side.
You've never considered yourself a big fan of such public displays of affection, you've always found proposal in open spaces and with people around cheesy, but...but the way Five smiled at you on that stage, microphone in hand and bottle of alcohol in another, it made you question all your tastes in life. That scene was worth it
The truth was, Five would hang the moon in the sky for you, and you'd do anything to keep that love and happiness in his eyes whenever he looked your way.
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1-imaginary-girl · 2 years
Text
Annoying
Five Hargreeves x Reader
Summary: It’s no secret Five finds you annoying. In fact, he frequently tells you this. Maybe he even goes too far. But when someone else insults you, Five realizes that only he’s allowed to do that. Reader is gender neutral.
Warnings: Hurtful comments said to the reader
Word Count: 3500
A/N: I’m alive! So long story short, I lost the motivation to write for a while which caused my spontaneous hiatus. I honestly wasn’t sure if I would post anything again. But then, I rediscovered comfort in writing, especially when it’s about my best boys. 
My posting from now on may be a bit sporadic as I’m back in school but I do intend to keep posting.
Anyway, here’s my favourite grumpy boy as a treat!
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Five Hargreeves had gotten used to working at the Commission. He still hated every second of it: the job, the people, the killings. But he had adapted, just like he had in the apocalypse, and had fallen into a familiar routine that made the situation easier to swallow. He had finally accepted his job and made peace with it. That is, until you came along.
You also work at the Commission as a field agent and until recently, Five didn’t even know of your existence. Then one day, you came into his office and tried to chat with him. He was bewildered of course and told you to get the hell out of his face. But his rude words didn’t deter you. Instead, you asked him if he wanted to be your partner in the field. Again, Five was shocked and told you absolutely not. Unfortunately, you don’t seem to take no as an answer.
Every day since then, you kept popping into his life. Every day you would make nice with him, do him favours, and were overall friendly with him. Every day, he offered you nothing but a cold shoulder. Every day you asked him to be your partner and every day he told you no.
It was extremely aggravating to say the least. He tried to report you to the Handler but she told him you were doing nothing wrong. She even made some suggestive comments that made Five regret ever going to her for help. So he was on his own.
Except none of his usual moves worked. You never shied away from his negative presence. If he blinked away, you would somehow find him again. There seemed to be no way to remove you from his life.
He’s sitting in his office working when he hears a sound he has come to dread. “Knock knock,” you say as you open his door, not waiting for a response. He once asked you, “What if I was doing something private?” but that only made him flush at the accidental implication and you laughed.
“Not now,” he mumbles, not taking his eyes off his work.
“Yes now,” you say, entering the room and taking a seat on the other side of his desk. He doesn’t know why he hasn’t just removed the chair since the only person who ever used it was you. “I brought you coffee!”
This causes him to glance up, only a little, and what a mistake that turns out to be. There you sit, a beaming smile spread across your face. Your eyes tend to light up when you smile, bringing attention to how stunning they are. Thoughts like these make him feel queasy, at least that’s what he’s deeming it to be. His face also tends to heat up and his breathing acts funny. He’s considered a few times that he was sick, but every test indicated otherwise.
This is another thing that bothers him so much about you. You bring unknown feelings that Five has never experienced before, and he hates feelings, let alone unfamiliar ones.
“The answer is still, and always will be, no,” he says blankly, his eyes focused on his computer but he isn’t paying attention to what’s on the screen.
“But I haven’t even said my pitch yet!” you complain. Without looking, he knows you’re looking at him with big puppy dog eyes. He would never admit, even to himself, that they affect him. “I think today’s speech is much better—”
“Doesn’t matter, still a no.”
You ignore him and clear your throat. “As your partner—”
“Stop.”
“I would bring you freshly made coffee every morning, just the way you like it,” you continue. He decides to stop talking to you altogether. With concentration, he’s able to read the words on the screen and continue typing. “You can still take lead on the missions, though you’ll find I’m fairly skilled on the field. This will also reduce the danger of getting hurt, and if one of us does get hurt, the other can patch them up.”
It is a pain to tend to my own wounds, Five thinks before mentally berating himself. He’s supposed to be ignoring you. And besides, he’s been taking care of himself for years, he’s used to the difficulties by now.
“Another bonus, is that with me as your partner, the Handler won’t be on you as much,” you say, and despite himself, he listens. “She’ll know that someone else has their eyes on you, and with my reputation, she’ll trust me with it.”
Now that actually sounds desirable. The Handler is always checking in on him and keeping a watchful eye on his actions. She knows he’s a good agent, he’s proved that by now, but she still worries that he might betray them. This makes him a loose canon in her eyes. Plus, with her attention elsewhere he’ll be able to make more progress on his secret project to return to his family—
Stop it, he tells himself. This is exactly what you want. You actually have him considering the possibility of becoming partners. The more your voice fills his ears and the more he thinks about what it would mean to have you as a partner, the more his face starts to burn.
He can feel himself losing control over his emotions and he panics. Clearly, ignoring you is not the solution.
“That’s enough!” he yells, causing you to pause mid-sentence. He looks over at you to see your wide eyes staring at him. For the first time, he sees a crack in your positive shield. He continues. “God, just stop already. I am so sick and tired of you groveling at my feet, it is so annoying. Why won’t you get this through your head? I am never partnering with anyone, especially not with you! So for the last time, leave me alone!”
A deadly silence fills the room. Five is panting from his outburst and when his anger recedes, he finds he’s shocked at himself. He’s never had an outburst like that, never yelled like that before. Sure he gets angry and frustrated all of the time, but he hardly ever yells and his words are never that venomous. He just got so riled up with his emotions…
You also seem shocked. You try to cover it up, but he can still tell. You seem unsure of what to say and your usual peppiness seems to have vanished as well. Five isn’t sure how to feel. He also isn’t sure of what to do.
You then clear your throat. “Well then,” you say, trying to piece yourself together. “You seem busy so I should go.” You grin but its wobbly and it doesn’t meet your eyes. And despite himself, he feels sorry. You wordlessly stand up and exit his office.
The silence remains and Five is left frozen. After a moment, he shakes his head and tries to feel unbothered by what just happened.
†††
A few hours have passed since his conversation with you, and Five is out of coffee. He blinks to the Commission’s break room but then he sees you there. You’re standing at the counter with your back to him and in a moment of panic, he blinks to behind a wall just around the corner from the break room.  
He curses silently. He can’t believe that he’s hiding from you after earlier. Maybe he just doesn’t want to deal with your emotions. Or maybe he’s hiding from his own.
He’s about to just toughen up and deal with it when he hears someone else entering the room. “Y/N, how nice to see you,” he hears someone say. He looks to see a woman approaching you. Five thinks he’s seen her around but doesn’t recognize her. He’s tried not to make friends here or fill his mind with useless information. This means he only knows a few people including you and the Handler.
“Cassandra,” he hears you say in a bitter tone. He frowns. He’s never heard you speak like that.
“How have you been?” Cassandra asks and Five doesn’t know why, but she sounds ingenuine despite her cheery tone. He also suspects her smile to be too friendly.
“Fine.” You don’t even look over at her as you continue whatever you were doing at the counter. It isn’t like you to be short with people, and Five wonders if it’s because of what he said.
“I heard you got in trouble with the Handler this morning,” Cassandra says. Oh shit, Five thinks. He isn’t sure if that happened before or after he yelled at you but either way, he doesn’t envy your morning.
“Yup,” is your only response. Cassandra doesn’t seem satisfied by your response. She walks over and leans against the counter next to you.
“That must have been awful. I hope she doesn’t fire you soon,” she says with false concern. You still don’t glance her way. You simply nod your head absentmindedly as your focus remains locked on the kettle in front of you, waiting for the water to boil. Cassandra just keeps talking. “Are you still bugging Agent Five about being his partner?”
Five’s ears begin to burn as the conversation steers towards him. Now more than ever, he thinks he should leave this private conversation, but his feet remain glued to the floor. What does he care? he tries to tell himself, but it doesn’t work.
He watches as you grip the counter tightly. Unfortunately, Cassandra also seems to notice and she takes that as an answer. “Aw you poor thing,” she says, putting her hand on your shoulder only for you to shrug it off.
“Look Cassandra,” you say, your voice filled with agitation. “I’ve had a really bad day, if you could just—”
“I can only imagine,” the woman says, and Five is starting to really dislike her. “It must be hard, getting rejected day after day. I’m surprised you haven’t given up.”
“Fuck it.” You push yourself off the counter. You turn around and Five ducks back around the corner. “I’ll come back later.”
There’s a moment of silence before, “Do you know why he keeps rejecting you?” Five risks a glance to see that you’ve turned back around.
“What?” you say, surprised by the question.
“It’s the same reason why all of the others rejected you,” she says, which takes Five by surprise. He didn’t know there were others. An illogical flare of jealousy rises in him before he stomps it out.
“You’re annoying,” she says, her tone one of false sympathy. “No one wants to be around you. You come on way too strong and, sweetie, you reek of desperation.”
“S-stop,” you say, in shock but also seemingly hit by a bullet of emotions. Even Five is surprised.
“You’re just a nuisance,” Cassandra says. “A pest that no one can get rid of. That’s why you’ve never found a partner and that’s why you never will. I mean, who could like you let alone stand you?”
“Cassandra…” you say and Five can hear the quiver in your voice. He doesn’t know why, but the sound makes his chest tighten.
“Face it, Y/N,” she says, now standing right in front of you. “You were always meant to be alone.” Finally, Five can’t take it anymore. He walks out from around the corner and glares at Cassandra. He finds himself loathing her. Only he is allowed to call you annoying.
Cassandra glances past you and looks surprised to see him there. Just like that, she has on her friendly looking face again. “Oh hey there Fi—” she starts to say to him.
“Get out,” he spits at her. Her eyes widen at his venomous tone but decides to listen, scurrying away. It’s nice to see his fearful reputation precedes him. There’s a silence that settles in the room once she’s left. You seem to be frozen in place, not even turning to face him. He isn’t sure what to do himself, whether to somehow approach you or to ignore you entirely.
Luckily, his decision is made for him as you wordlessly walk back up to the counter towards the kettle. Five clears his throat, trying to rid himself of this awkward feeling, and walks up beside you.
He doesn’t address you, after all he normally isn’t the one to start the conversation. Which is why it’s so odd when you don’t. The two of you move about silently, completing your individual tasks. He finds he can’t even look at you, for the downtrodden look on your face still inflicts pain upon him. Finally, after an agonizing amount of time, you speak.
“Five,” you say, also clearing your throat. “I, uh, I have some good news for you.”
He sees that you’re trying to plaster on your usual happy appearance but it’s broken and he can see right through it.
He expects you to say something along the lines of “I forgive you for earlier” or “I made you some coffee.” He expects you to forgive him and act as normal. He did not, however, expect your actual words.
“I will no longer be bothering you with my presence.” Normally, these words would send him jumping for joy. After all, this is what he’s been wanting. But after the conversation he overheard, something gave him pause.
“Oh?” he says, at a loss for words as he is caught off guard.
“Yeah,” you say with a forced smile. “I’ve realized that I haven’t been respecting your feelings, as you have made it more than clear that you don’t want me as a partner and that you never will.”
He hears your voice crack towards the end and he can’t help but compare your words to Cassandra’s. “Yes I uh…I appreciate that,” he says, hesitant with his words. He isn’t sure what to make of all of this.        
“Right,” you say, straightening yourself. You pick up your mug and turn to fully face him. He tries to ignore the shine of incoming tears in your eyes. “See you around. And uh, sorry for bothering you.”
Before he can say anything else, you turn and exit the room, leaving Five in a state of uncertainty.
†††
When Five walks into work the next morning, he’s not on edge like he usually is. He normally expects you to greet him on his way to his office, but there’s no sight of you. After Five recovered from his shock, he decided he should be happy about the situation. Sure, he didn’t want you to get hurt, but he got what he wanted.
He settles into his office and gets to work. He reaches to take a sip of his coffee when he realizes there’s nothing there. Oh, right. You normally got his morning coffees for him. Not a big deal, he thinks. If anything, this shows what a nuisance you had been for changing his routine.
Throughout the next couple of days, he starts to realize what an impact you had made on him. For one, the coffee doesn’t taste as good, which is odd. Then he noticed his plant started to die. Five didn’t even know he had a plant. He got rid of it and suddenly felt that his office was colder. He knows it’s illogical, but he didn’t realize how it brightened the room.
And most of all, he found his normal routine to be rather dull. Normally, you would interrupt his work and give a small relief to the boring workload. His room is quieter than ever and the days start to blend together.
But this is what he wanted wasn’t it? To finally be on his own? It’s not like he missed your ramblings, or the sound of your laugh, or your happy disposition, or the way you brightened his day. No. He’s better off alone…
He doesn’t even believe himself. He scowls. How could he let this happen? How could he let someone in and affect him so much to a point where he missed them? He thinks about ignoring his feelings and soldiering on, as is his way, but the thought of going on like this for God knows how long makes him reconsider.
Goddamn you.
†††
He had never seen your office before. He didn’t even know you had an office up until now. He thought, a bit conceitedly perhaps, that he was the only field agent with an office. Maybe you weren’t exaggerating when you said you were good.
Your door is left open, possibly to be more inviting and welcoming. It’s perfectly you. Five looks in to see your head down, writing something at your desk, and takes a moment to consider you. God, he had missed you. He feels a little excited just seeing you there. Is he that lonely and desperate?
He knocks on your door and stands in the doorway. You lift your head and your eyes widen in surprise to see him. He tries not to look uncomfortable under your gaze.
“Oh! Hey Five,” you say, cautiously. You’re not as bubbly around him anymore, almost afraid to scare him off. He doesn’t like it. “What can I do for—”
Before you can finish, Five drops a file onto your desk. You look at him in surprise. There’s a silence. “What’s this?” you ask.
“Read it,” he snaps at you, his nerves getting the better of him. You open the file and he sees surprise overtake your whole face.
“This…this is a request to have me as your partner,” you say quietly, not knowing how to react.
“This has nothing to do with your pestering, by the way,” Five says. “I thought about it and came to my own conclusion that a partner would be beneficial. I thought since you were already willing, it was the simpler choice.”
As he speaks, he watches your disbelief change into joy and a bright smile returns to your face. It’s almost infectious.
“This is incredible,” you say. And then something changes and your smile drops into a frown, which makes him upset. Not that he was doing this for you, but he thought you’d be happy. “But I thought…I thought I annoyed you. What changed?”
He feels guilt tug at him. It seems his outburst stuck with you. “I…might have overreacted the other day. You do annoy me, but I didn’t mean it like that.” You nod at this and he senses it isn’t enough to convince you. Fuck it. He’s already in this deep. “I suppose, as a gesture of good faith as your new partner, and only for this occasion…I owe you an apology.”
Your eyes shoot up at him and he falters. Then he clears his throat and prays no one else is around to hear this. “I am…sorry, for any hurt my outburst may have caused you.” He could count on one hand the number of times he has genuinely apologized to someone. But apparently it works, as your frown is gone.
“Oh, um, thank you,” you say, unsure how to respond to his sudden change in character. There’s an awkward pause before you smile. You hold out your hand and say, “Partners?”
It’s such a sweet gesture of forgiveness that Five finds his mouth twitching upwards. “Partners,” he says, shaking your hand. He ignores the sparks he feels when his hand touches yours. But he has been sentimental for far too long.
He ends the handshake and clears his throat once more. “To be clear, this is not an official contract, you still have to sign the paper,” he says but the smile cannot be erased from your face.
“Yes, of course! I will handle that right away,” you say. “This is so exciting! You will not regret this.”
“I better not,” he says. “This doesn’t change anything between us, we’re not friends.”
“Yet,” you say with a cheeky smile. He is much more relieved to see you acting as your normal self again.
“Y/N I’m serious—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. This is going to be so fun,” you giggle, seemingly ignoring what he just said. “Thank you.”
You’re looking up at him, a soft smile on your lips and a twinkle in your eye. He falters again as he feels heat rising in his cheeks. He looks away.
“No need to thank me, just make sure that request is signed and submitted.”
“Aye, aye, cap’n,” you salute him and he takes this as his cue to leave. He turns and you call out, “See you around!”
He doesn’t respond, or rather he can’t. He’s already starting to regret this and not because of the reason you think. Seeing you all happy and excitement caused his heart to swell with a feeling he isn’t familiar with. He doesn’t like this unknown territory and change. But he has to admit…
It felt kind of nice.
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the-anxiety-academy · 2 years
Text
Five x TEEN!y/n
Incorrect quotes pt3
⚠Disclaimer⚠ I made this when I was 15 and I no longer post about Five!
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Five: I want to kiss you.
Y/n, not paying attention: What?
Five: I said if you die, I wont miss you.
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Y/n, throwing their head into Five's lap: Tell me I'm pretty!
Five, lovingly stroking their hair: You're pretty fucking annoying, that's what you are.
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Five: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.
Y/n: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.
Five: But you’re always acting stupid?
Y/n: ...
Y/n: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.
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Lila: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons!
Y/n: Bet you I can!
Five: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*
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Y/n: What is wrong with you?
Five: Loaded question. Elaborate.
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Y/n: And have you learnt anything this Christmas, Five?
Five: …Not really.
Y/n: Nothing?
Five: Tell you one thing I have learnt—Christmas; ultimately, commercial holiday. Who's the real winner at Christmas? Amazon. they have drones now! Tiny little dystopian slaves delivering iPads and headphones. I ordered a toaster; It was on the doorstep five hours later! Do we need that? It was 4.99! For a toaster! I mean, someone's being exploited there.
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Five: Deep down, I'm sure I was always pretty okay with you.
Y/n: Thanks, Five!
Five: It wasn't a compliment, numbnuts.
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Y/n: Pardon the intrusion, but-
Five: On this moment or just my life in general?
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Y/n: Hey, I’m getting in the shower. Wanna help me out?
Five: ...Have you never taken a shower before?
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Y/n: I still have no idea how I’m attracted to you...
Five: Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me, and no take backs, honey.
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Y/n: When you said 'Magic in Bed', I wasn't expecting this...
Five: *pulls out card from deck* Now, was this your card?
Y/n: Holy moly-
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igotanidea · 1 year
Text
We're all broken here: five hargreeves and reader.
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Summary: Five is known to say exactly what is on his mind, even if it may hurt someone else. What if he takes it too hard and aim at the one person he really cares about. Will she understand?
A/N: This is just some story focused mostly on family relationships and supporting each other. no romance, just brother-sister stuff. Located somewhere in season 1. no "y/n"s
***
„Shit! Why you gotta be so stupid?!”
This last words echoed through the rooms and hallways of Hargreeves mansion leaving all of the siblings frozen. Despite the fact that Five was the one to use them he already regretted it.
“Eight, I …” he stuttered
“No. You  know what, it’s fine. I’m stupid and you’re mean. Let’s settle here and move on. No sorries, no I didn’t mean it, because for a matter of fact you did mean it.” It took all of her courage and inside strength not to fall apart at this adjective. She was used to being called weak, pathetic, distant, unattractive and plump and that did nothing to her. Aiming at her intelligence however, the only thing she was building her confidence on was just too much. But of course she would never let her idiotic 80somethign year old brother in a kid’s body know that.
“Eight….”
“Save it. We are good. I’m gonna go, but by all means you stay here.”
“Oh, no, honey, wait, wait for me! I’m not leaving you alone with your misery!” Klaus stood up immediately and stumbling a bit followed his sister with a bottle of alcohol in one hand.
“Low blow Five. Really in-style” Alison , aka number three mocked.
“Oh, just shut up and give me a break” Five hissed with clenched fist in his best attempt to teleport back to his room and move on with work and equations that did not make any sense.
“You’re not gonna do this” Diego, number two pointed a knife in his direction. Eight was his favorite sister, always there to calm him down after a fight or to help him with his stuttering or whatever else he had going on and inside he always felt the need to protect her.  She might have been gifted with seeing people’s auras, manipulating their emotions and occasionally getting into their thoughts but she couldn’t use that on herself. And at this moment, surely she had a lot.  “You’re gonna go to her and apologize.”
“I do not have to listen to you, Diego” Five squinted and took a sip of coffee, which was his inherent accessory. “And as a matter of fact, I will not. I’m out.”
“He’s a prick” Luther, number one mumbled with his mouth full when Five excused himself in a flash of blue light. “But that is nothing new.”
“He never was for her” number seven, Vanya shook his head “this whole apocalypse business must have really got into his head if he’s acting like that.”
“Nope” Luther pointed “you seem him differently cause you two always had a connection. But Five is an ass.”
“Hear, hear” Alison nodded
“Hate to say it, but Luther’s right.” Diego stood up.
“Do you think I should check on Klaus and Eight? Don’t know which one will have worse influence on the other.” Vanya was truly the only one who wasn’t afraid to show she cared.
“Leave them be. She can handle herself. In fact, I see Klaus getting advice from her not the other way round. He’s been acting strange lately.”
“Can’t remember the time when he was not.”
*** 
Meanwhile in eight’s room she was sitting on her bed with legs up to her chest, staring blankly into a space. Well, in fact she was staring at the wall bordering her room from five’s but it was not intentional.
“My lovely sister!” Klaus stumbled into her room and fell on the bed making the girl jump a little. “Do not torture yourself with Five’s words. This is unhealthy.”
“Look who is talking about unhealthy” she smirked pointing towards the bottle “care to share?”
“Um…. Sure, yeah, why not? Here you are.” He took a long sip before passing the alcohol to her “enjoy.”
“Klaus?”
“Yes, dear?”
“It’s empty, you ball of fuzz. You drank the last drops”
“Ups. Sorry.” he grinned “I’m sure you can do without, right?” he hid his face in the bed sheet and groaned
“You left me no choice. Anyway, anything I can do for you, brother?”
“Me?” he raised himself on the elbows and looked straight at her, his hair being a mess, confusion all over his face “Oh, no, I’m fine. I’m fine.”
“Klaus.”
“Yes.”
“I can see your aura, remember? I can feel your emotions.”
“And what do you see, sister my?”
“Brown.” She raised an eyebrow
“You have to be more specific on that.”
“Well, you are either high, but that’s usual or you’ve been dealing with your ghost powers. I bet the latter.”
“I’m working hard you know, I’m trying” he cried “I even let Diego tie me to a chair so I would keep on track”
“So that’s what it was all about. Cute.”
“Don’t mock me” Klaus fell on his back dramatically “It’s exhausting.”
“Sure is. Ben giving you a hard time lately?”
“Not more than usual.” Number six, Ben, died at 17, but was still showing himself to Klaus and on some occasions Eight was capable of feeling his presence and emotions.
“It’s so good that at least you believe me I see him” Klaus grabbed her hand “He’s terrible. Won’t let me do a single thing.”
Liar.
“Oh, shut up, Ben”
“He’s here now? Where?”
Come on, eight, focus. I’m …. right…. here….
“Sitting on the window sill. You feel him?”
“Somewhat. I see yellow from that side. He’s mad. Not sure if It’s about you being a liar or ….”
The other one, obviously. Tell her, Klaus!
“Yeah, it’s about Five. Now, come here, sis. Let me hug you and make the pain go away. You do know you are not stupid, right?”
“Of course I do. But thank you Klaus.” She was more than happy to let her brother embrace her.
***
There was no denying that this damn upcoming apocalypse had an effect on every one of the siblings. Each of them reacted in their own way, leaving Luther and Alison spending the rest of the time together, Diego doing his vigilante shit, Klaus crying his heart out on Eight’s shoulder and Five going crazy. More than usual. Doing stuff he was not supposed too.
“Eight.” It was his best chance to make things right with her, so he appeared inside her room startling Klaus.
“Ah! Five. Don’t do this.”
“Go away. I need a word with her.”
“I don’t know if she….”
“If you don’t leave in like 5 seconds I’m gonna ….”
“Ok, fine, fine. I’m leaving. Jeez, threatening, Five? Seriously? I’m fragile!”
“Get out, Klaus!”
“Come on, Ben. We’re out.”
Nope. I’m staying. This will be interesting.
“Don’t you disobey me, now!” four yelled at the air making both Five and Eight look at him in confusion. Five more than his sister since she saw a bit of red in the air. Ben was angry for being told what to do. She shook her head not sure what to do with three brothers, one dead inside her room.
“You know what, since you all act like lunatics, I’m gonna go. Whoever has a business with me, feel free to join. I’ll get coffee and wait in the garden. 
And with that she left Klaus bantering with Ben and dumfounded Five behind.
***
“Come out now, blue, I can see you” couple minutes later she was sitting on the garden bridge, legs hanging from the edge, sipping coffee, watching the street.
“Stop calling me that” Five took a step towards her, hands in pockets, his whole posture a little slouched.
“I can’t help you just radiate this color.”
“And what does that mean to you. Sadness? I am not sad.”
“Of course not. Blue is not sadness, it’s more … thinking, considering. I can almost feel the wheels in your brain turning. So, the question is, what is on your mind to leave you like this?”
“Stop playing around. You know damn well what this is about.”
“Guilt?” she tilted her head
“Don’t push me Eight! You can say it to yourself.”
“Maybe” she refused to look at him “but I want you to express it.”
“I never should have called you that.”
“If that’s what troubles you ….”
“No. Don’t interrupt me!”
“How could I. After all you are older than me.” She fixed her gaze on the tree on the opposite side of the road.
“Look, Eight” he sighed in exasperation and rubbed his forehead “I saw you all die. I have lived through the apocalypse, and came back here looking like a kid. Surely you understand it is not… normal.”
“I do. And?”
“And…. This may have some effect on how I behave.”
“I call bullshit, Five.”
“Fine!” he yelled “you are infuriating, you get the craziest ideas, you make me mad and small, you constantly undermine what I do and …..”
“And what?” she finally looked at him. The second she laid her eyes on his face he could not hide anymore. She saw right through him like an open book. Not only because of her abilities, but because she was always the one closest to him. Challenging, yes. Demanding, yes. But at the same time so ambitious that it made him want to do more, to do better. To outsmart her, to impress her and to prove that he was in fact worth her friendship. He sighed, feeling utterly defeated.
“I hate you, Eight.” The boy shook his head in frustration  “But at the same time you are my sister and after some snarky comments and spiteful words I would jump into the fire for you.”
“I know. That is why I did not take what to you said to me personally.”
“It didn’t look like that to me.”
“Well then you are no smarter than me, dumbass. We are family, we are all broken, messy, chaotic and a bunch of individuals. We fight, scream at each other, get mad and even do not talk for … how many years?” she smiled at him “but at the end of the day we resist the urge to kill each other and that is the progress.”
“You want to kill me, Eight?”
“Sometimes, yes. Do you remember that?” she moved slightly so he could see a carving on the bridge.
“Fight” he smirked “Like Five and Eight combined.”
“How old were we when we made that up? Six?”
“Possibly. It’s good to see some things stays the same.”
“You know Five, we may have grown up, but seems like our relationship will always come down to this one words. Fight. Each other or other people, never mind. To me it just mean we are here for one another.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
“Good” she raised her cup “but stay away from my coffee. If there’s anything about you I know is that you are an ass, mischievous, spiteful, vengeful …”
“Careful there sister….”
“I’m not done yet… you act on impulse and do not mince your own words, but you are not cruel.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen my fair share of people who wanted to hurt another. Their faces when they told words that were meant to tear each other apart and to cause damage. There were so much viciousness inside. That single purpose on their mind to break and destroy. Whatever you may think about yourself you are not like that, Five. You are not evil. Just a menace.”
“So touching” he mocked  “I think I’m about to cry.”
“Don’t mind my presence than” she took another sip and having finished the coffee put the cup down ”“Now. You got silver sparkling in your cloud. Who are we fighting with today?”
“Have I ever told you about the Commission?” he squinted at her.
“Nope. But it seems like a long story. I’m listening.”
Yes. After all, they were family. And at the end of the day they were up to get rid of anyone who would threat a member of it.
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