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letbenfuck2021 · 4 years

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inside your head the sound of glass by soitgoes/fiveyavibecheck

So he’ll ruin her. To make her stay, he’ll break her down until she’s just as trapped as he is.

rating. explicit. warnings. incest/pseudo-incest, dark fic, dead dove: do not eat, dub-con written for fiveya week 2019. prompt: jealousy. ao3 link

Five is jealous. There’s no getting around it.

He’s been stewing on the leather upholstered arm chair in the hotel’s lobby for fifteen minutes now while his siblings chatter excitedly among themselves blissfully ignorant of Five's plight. Ben, whom Five often regarded as his most intuitive sibling, is the only one who took notice of his anguish. He turns his attention from Allison, who has been explaining a meticulously planned attack on every worthy boutique in a fifteen mile radius, to give Five a concerned look. Five just glowers at his brother before sinking further into his seat.

He really shouldn't fault them for their elation. Just moments ago, Pogo informed them that they’ve all been allotted a few hours of free time. A reward on behalf of their father for a job well done. It makes them feel victorious in a way that completing a mission hasn't felt in a while.

The Paris job had been nearly flawless, no in-fighting or drama, minimal property damage. It had certainly impressed Reginald enough to grant them something as coveted and rare as unsupervised time. And all this was due in no small part to Five’s own efforts.

For years now, he’s played the part of lodestone, the linchpin in the failing mechanism that is the Umbrella Academy. No one wants to say it out loud but they can all feel how precarious their reality is. None of them want to talk about what happened in Philadelphia last year. No one wants to talk about the pale, jagged scar across Diego’s temple or Klaus’ crooked ring finger or how Ben now walks with the smallest limp, favoring his right side. But this isn’t Philadelphia and there are no scars in the making or broken bones, at least not on the Academy’s part. No, these past five days have been nearly perfect, a throwback to the glory days.

He looks around at their faces and notices that his siblings aren't just victorious or satisfied, they are happy. And he can't even be happy for them. Instead, at the sight of their cheery banter and open smiles, all he can feel is envy that as they all prepare to set out and enjoy their morning and afternoon freely, blissfully he is left bogged down by an affliction that has a first and last name.

Five stands abruptly with enough force to send his seat screeching back a little ways. This time, all of his siblings stop to stare at him. Both Ben and Klaus seem concerned, Diego a little irritated, and Luther only stared blankly at him. Philadelphia had changed Luther most of all. The three mechanical fingers on his left hand flex ever so slightly but his expression remains cool. He almost feels sorry for his brother. It wasn't just his fingers Number One lost. It isn't until his eyes land on Number Three that any kind sympathy drained into cold, hard resentment. At least she had the decency to look sorry.

After a second, Five waved them off and left them to find Pogo. It's been years since she'd saddled him with a ball and chain with her Rumor but Five has yet to forgive her. Not that they all hadn't used their powers on each other at some point. During training, for pranks, to showboat, even just out of boredom, but what Allison did to him five years ago had changed the course of his life forever.

It's a cruel sort of irony that he, of all people, should be saddled with a ball and chain. By all laws of the universe, Five should be well on his way to the top of the world. He’s the son of one of the richest men in the world, a literal genius who can bend space and time and yet he's stuck playing cops and robbers all because of one particular phrase produced by one particular mouth.

I heard a rumor…

In a way, it’s Five’s own fault that he’s landed himself in his current predicament. He’s always had a little bit of a rebellious streak. Blame his intellect paired with a curious nature and taste for the mischievous, but he's never been able to accept at face value the vague, foreboding explanations which seem to be the only kind that Sir Reginald knows how to give. So whether it be because of incessant questioning or outright disobedience by age thirteen, Five became such a destructive force on the team that he had nearly, single handedly dismantled the whole team.

He agitates the rivalry between Diego and Luther, indulges Klaus’ vices. As if this wasn’t bad enough, Five would constantly undermine Reginald’s authority. Whether it be on missions or during their school lessons, Five seemed to simply be incapable of behaving. Worst of all, he dared to interact, in fact seek out the company of the academy’s resident pariah, their other sister. Number Seven. Vanya .

Five finds Pogo in the hotel’s smoking room. The old chimp had made himself at home with a cup of coffee, still steaming, and a newspaper pulled up in front of his face.

"I have to call home,” Five declares with a scowl.

He’s never been a fan of cigarettes, Five found it to be a nasty habit, so he finds it incredibly irritating that Pogo always seems to hole himself up in one whenever the team is granted the luxury of staying in a place swanky enough to have one. Doubly so, seeing as Pogo did not smoke.

Pogo’s fingers make deft work of folding his newspaper down so he can look over at his young charge and he frowns at the sight. Pogo had known Number Five all his life. There had been a time when Five had shone brightest among his siblings. Intelligent, inquiring, Pogo had hoped that at least he would be able to escape Reginald’s grasp but as it turned out, his master’s reach was far longer and more sinister than any of them could have imagined.

“Number Five! Shouldn’t you be planning out your day like the rest of your sib-”

Five cuts him off.

“I didn’t come here for pleasantries, Pogo. Just give me the card.”

Pogo pauses a moment and takes a good hard look at the young man before him. This fall, he and his siblings will be eighteen, legally free of their father’s hold but in all other ways completely trapped. To anyone else, Number Five must seem a handsome and driven young man. In press conferences, he was amicable and charming enough to be approachable but he was also careful to cultivate an air of respectability as well. Though Luther still held the position of Number One, Pogo, and the old chimp suspected everyone else, knew that it was Five who pulled the strings on this team. But looking at Five now, he saw not the intriguing young man or even the iron-fisted leader that the public and his siblings saw. Pogo only saw a sad young man marred by his affliction.

“You can save the pitying looks, old man,” Five practically growls. “Give. Me. The card.”

He grinds out the last words from between his gritted teeth. His eyes shine a little, bright blue and burning with a frenzy that is not unlike the look Pogo had seen in Klaus’ eyes after spending a few days locked down in some dungeon beneath the mansion. His were the eyes of a man who had been denied his fix for too long. Six days without it had left Five brittle and Pogo had learned better than to bait him in this state. So he quickly fishes the telephone card from inside his vest pocket and hands it over. Without so much as a word of thanks, Five snatches it from his hand and leaves.

Five thinks that it must have been his attachment to Vanya that finally tipped their father over the edge, either that or Reginald realized that it was something he could use. Even before Allison rumored him, Five had always been fond of Vanya. Partly because he knew it pissed his father off but more so because she was so completely separated from the bullshit and melodrama that came with being part of the illustrious Umbrella Academy. At first, it truly had been a passing fancy to seek out Vanya’s company. He was curious about the sibling that he and the rest had been separated from since they were four. He had expected her to be dull. Plain little Number Seven had no powers, no special abilities. As their father had driven into their heads for as long as he could remember, Number Seven was not like them, she was ordinary and they all insinuated that this meant she was worthy of nothing more than their scorn and occasionally their pity. But when he actually started speaking and spending time with her Five was delighted to find that she was a wealth of entertainment. She’s easy to tease and unlike their other siblings who had been trained to be as ruthless and barbed to attack, Vanya reacts usually with a shy blush or a stuttering reply that often results in her turning her face to the floor and scurrying away. It’s fun. It’s like having a new toy to take apart, to understand, and to ultimately put back together again.

Ultimately, Five finds that Vanya is a perfectly good way to pass the time. It isn’t until the first time things go bad on a mission, bad enough to send all of them reeling to the brink, that Five realizes just how much he needed Vanya. It’s a relief to be with her. The reality she populated was not pitious like he had been taught to believe but was envious. The world she lived in wasn’t awash with blood and violence. He knows that she hates her plainness, her mundanity but it's a blessing to Five. It's like air, like something precious. She is free in a way that none of the others ever would be. Or at least, she had been.

It takes him very little time to find the international phone booths. Somehow, they're always in the same place in the lavish, extravagant hotels that Reginald likes them to hold press conferences in. Though, he only does this once their missions are complete. Despite being the children of a billionaire, none of the Hargreeves children had ever seen the inside of these lavish rooms to do much more than shower and prepare for the reporters..

He moves as quickly as possible though the steps needed to place an international call. It’s tedious but he never hesitates to do it. Once the operator puts him through, he hears a dial tone and after a single ring, Grace picks up. She's pleasant as always and attempts to carry on that uniquely odd version of small talk that's been programmed into her system but Five has no time for it and makes his demand quickly and curtly. There's a tense pause, before she responds with a placid, of course dear.

He knows that Grace is looking to his father to grant permission. There’s no doubt in his mind that the old coot had been waiting for him. Five moves like clockwork now, he does the old man’s dirty work and immediately comes crawling for his fix. Five knows also that a call had already been made home informing Reginald of their success and Five's instrumental role in it. The silence as he waits seems to stretch on forever until there is a small sound of a receiver being lifted from its cradle. It's so soft and small that most people probably never take notice of it. But it's nearly pavlovian for Five, already his blood is pounding in his ears and when her small, thin voice dribbles over the line, he can barely breathe.

"Five?" she mumbles, her voice scratching with sleep.

"Hey, did I wake you?" his voice sounds almost as hoarse as hers.

Five doesn't know why he asks. He'd already known he would wake her. It's 10 am in Paris but it's only 4 back home. It's a silly question and like most of his irrational behaviors, Five chocks his irrationality up to his condition.

Vanya hums a disgruntled confirmation of his assumption. For a moment he allows himself to imagine her standing in their father's still-dark house. She's probably using the phone near the staircase that leads up to their rooms. She'd still be in her pajamas, cheeks a little flushed, hair still tousled from sleep. Just envisioning her helps to soothe the aching emptiness within him. It's both a relief and a bitter pill to swallow that she has such an effect on him.

It hadn't always been this way between them. Though Five had always held a greater fondness for Vanya than their other siblings, it wasn't ever like how it is now. Just the sound of her voice causes him to feel lighter, more at ease. It's a need, a compulsion to be near her, to hear her, feel her. It's like a drug and when she sleepily says his name, confused by his sudden silence, he can understand Klaus' predilection for addictive substances. But there's no way for him to simply enjoy the high because it's evidence of Reginald's hold on him.

It happens when they’re fourteen. Five has a hard time remembering clearly what had happened, a particularly strange experience considering his eidetic memory. He remembers that he had convinced Vanya to sneak out with him to Griddy’s instead of attending Latin. With his abilities, sneaking out of the mansion was easy-pickings. Convincing Vanya to sneak out with him was not. He remembers kissing her in the sticky vinyl booths in front of a scandalized waitress and how her mouth tasted of sugar and coffee. He remembers sliding his hand over her left hip and the smell of yeasted donuts frying in oil. But other than that, there's a sizable gap in his memory of that day. It was a tricky side-effect of Allison’s power. He can’t even remember the exact command she gave him, only her three words and then, searing pain.

"Five?" she says sounding more awake all of a sudden, her tone is urgent. "Why are you calling, did - did something happen? Is everyon-"

He clicked his tongue in distaste.

"Everyone else is fine," he grumbled. "It's me you should be worried about."

Five didn't want to spend their time talking about the others.

"Did something happ-oh god, Five wh-why wha-"

She's fully awake now, stuttering over the phone. Five relishes how distraught she sounds over him. He lets her panic a few seconds longer before shushing her.

"Nothing like that, V. I just miss you," he says pressing the receiver to his ear trying to hear every tiny reaction she might give him.

He hears her sigh and it sounds like she’s landed somewhere between relief and irritation. Five has become an expert at analyzing her every sound, expression, and movement.

"You can’t mess with me like that,” she scolds already sounding tired again.

Five checks his watch and trains his voice to be as pathetic as possible

"I'm not. It feels like I'm dying. I wish you were here," he croons although to any passersby, Five could have been talking about the weather for all they knew.

Her silence after he says this could go either way. It is now 4:05 am and he’s hoping that she’ll opt to stay with him a little longer.

“I have to go back to sleep, Five,” she murmurs, her voice sounds as though her throat is constricting around tears and they very well may be.

“No,” he pleads, his expression never shifting. “Stay with me a little longer, just a little, Vanya.”

Over the years since Vanya had become the unwilling planet around which his universe tilts, Five had become adept at prying out of her whatever morsel of time and attention he could. Being a Hargreeves, he had no qualms about playing dirty. Guilt was usually Vanya’s soft spot. She was especially good at being contrite.

“Five,” she seems to hesitate and Five thinks perhaps he’s won.

If all she wanted to do was breathe over the receiver for the next few hours while he sat and listened, Five would be more than happy. It was physically painful to be away from her thanks to Allison’s Rumor. His need for her hollowed him, left him ragged and gaunt. It was easier to ignore the further away he was and when he could distract himself with planning out strategic attacks, risking his and his siblings lives, but as soon as the dust settled he was left again with the vast emptiness of her absence and nothing would soothe it except her.

“I have to go to bed,” it would have been better if she’d stabbed him. “Dad scheduled me a lesson in a couple hours.”

“So just stay up. Stay with me until you have to get ready,” and finally his expression matches his tone.

The prospect of hanging the phone on the receiver, of disconnecting from her sends a shockwave of pain through him that leaves him a little winded.

“I can’t, Five. I have to be at my best. It’s a new teacher and I wanna make a good impression.”

“Va-”

“I’ll come see you as soon as you get home.”

Vanya’s learned to play their game as well.

“I promise, Five. As soon as you get home, even if dad tells me not to, I’ll come see you.”

He mulls this over. There’s no doubt that after how well he did that Reginald would not bar him from Vanya. Her offer is practically moot. He could continue his ploy, play on her guilt until she gave in but he knows that if he does Vanya is just as likely to double down as she is to fold. And although their father is unlikely to restrict his access, Vanya might.

“You promise ,” he murmurs.

“I do, I promise, Five.”

She sounds sincere. Five had always been under the impression that Vanya was incapable of lying. And to be fair, she hardly ever did but over the years he’s found that Vanya was more than capable of duplicity when she put her mind to it.

“Fine. We get back at 6:34pm,” he hears silence. “Are you nodding?”

“Oh!” she lets out a breathy giggle and Five feels his chest tighten. “Sorry - I mean - okay, I’ll see you then.”

Her voice already sounds far away when she mumbles, “bye, Five.”

A bout of panic rolls through him and Five is suddenly overcome with the urge to beg her now to hang up. He feels the pathetic plea bubbling up in his throat. He feels on fire with the anticipation of severing this one line of connection, even as flimsy as it is. His lips are already wrapped around the syllables of her name when he hears the line go dead. He listens to the low tone until it cuts off and leaves him in the noise of the hotel lobby that’s begun to pick up as the morning goes on. When he returns to his seat in the lobby, his siblings are nowhere to be found. He sits again on the upholstered chair and leans back and imagines Vanya going back up to her room, her bare feet shifting over the floor, the rustle of sheets as she slides into bed. He wishes more than anything he could be there with her and he hates himself for it.

###

The flight home is as dull as it usually is. Despite Reginald’s stinginess when it comes to their lodgings, he sees the utility in having a private mode of international travel saving them from the horrors of commercial airline flight. As per usual, Number Two attempts to mask his anxiety about flying with aggression and rage. And it isn't until Klaus slips something in Diego’s drink that he’s compliant enough to get onto the plane. This results in Klaus attaching himself to a mostly catatonic Diego and Ben scurrying after. Allison and Luther hovel together at the back of the plane and keep to their own devices.

When they get home and pile into the foyer, the entire Umbrella Academy is exhausted but they all file into the drawing room for debriefing. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Five that Vanya is absent. Already, he is beginning to feel frantic. In his head he chants over and over, she promised, she promised.

Reginald is already waiting for them and though the procedure could not have taken any more than ten minutes, it feels like an eternity to Five. He can't stop himself from continually glancing at the room's entrance, hoping that the double sliding doors will open and she will emerge but she never does. His jaw is clenched so tightly that he thinks he might shatter his teeth. As soon as Reginald releases them he jumps to his room.

“Oh!” he hears as he rematerializes in his own room with practiced ease in a pop of blue.

The dimensional energy is still shifting around him when Five turns to find Vanya sitting leisurely on his bed. She looks so casual with her back against the wall and one of his books nestled on her laps between her thighs. Her ankles are crossed over one another as they dangle over the edge of his bed. Beneath her feet is his suitcase. Grace must have brought it up during their debrief.

“Five!” Vanya says as she scrambles off the bed. “Dad said you were all home but he felt it was best for me to wait up here.”

For you.

That was the unspoken notion at the end of her words. She had been waiting for him here, as pretty as a present ready to pay their father's dues. It should make him happy to see her, elated even but he feels sour instead. A dead dial tone is still ringing in his ears.

"Well this is a surprise," he lies.

She's visibly uncomfortable, uncertain of the playing field.

"W-well I said I would come see you."

“I recall you saying ‘as soon as you get home’,” he recites easily for her.

Unconsciously, Vanya takes her left middle and ring fingers in her right hand. She squeezes both slowly, over and over. It’s a habit she’s picked up over the years. He winces at the memory of her two digits bent out of their sockets with a sickening pop.

“You still blame me for that then,” he says.

His words make her freeze mid squeeze and she drops her fingers as though she's been burned.

“I never blamed you," she says. "It wasn’t your fault.”

The words spill from her mouth easily like she’s been practicing them as much as she practices her violin. He takes a step towards her and he's glad she doesn't scurry backwards. It’s like trying to resist gravity approaching her slowly like this. His body strains against his restraint but he goes slow. Vanya likes it better when he goes slow.

"You only ever do it around me,” he says closing the distance between them inch by inch.

Her hands twitch towards one another.

"It was my fault,” he continues as he reaches out and takes her left hand in his own. “It was my idea to try to make a run for it.”

They were fifteen and his new manacles had begun to chafe enough to spark his creativity. It would be a lie if he said he didn’t think of abandoning her but even imagining being away from her at that point was painful. So he’d convinced her to come with him. He fed her words of love and adoration even though resentment was squating in his chest and she’d barely resisted. It took their siblings mere hours to find them. Five had come out of the ordeal with little more than a few bruises but Vanya, she had to wear a cast for weeks. Grace put her through a strict physical therapy regimen and all in all the fingers had healed beautifully and if her playing was any different, he was unable to tell. Just a small scar that ran across her two fingers remained. Five touched it reverently. The thin, jagged line was almost imperceptible now but it never left his mind. Some days, it was all he could see when he looked at her.

“You didn’t speak to me for over a month. It was hell.”

He’d gotten his revenge. The three mechanical fingers on his brother’s left hand were a reminder to everyone but most of all to their father that Five would not suffer any injury to Vanya. And though Reginald did not take kindly to his favorite toy being broken, Five had taken his punishment gladly, knowing that the old man had gotten the message.

“You know I didn’t mean it to be like that. It wasn’t just you, I didn’t speak to anyone,” she says as her fingers tense beneath his touch.

She had been a stone. For weeks, she sat in the infirmary unresponsive and unreactive to everything around her. It wasn’t the pain or the physical wound that had broken her. Without her left hand, she wouldn’t be able to play. The threat of that loss had hung heavily in the air like the silence that fell oppressively over the academy. None of them had realized how used to the sound of the violin they had become accustomed to until it had disappeared completely. Five turns his eyes to her face, her wide eyes are still guarded, unsure but he sees there a hope that perhaps he’ll play nice today.

"So. Uh - I guess I'll head out, let you unpack and get some rest,” she murmurs awkwardly, bowing her head.

He’s got her nearly backed up against the edge of her bed but there’s still enough room for her step away and maneuver around him. Vanya makes a beeline for the door but before she can make it there he stops her.

"Wait,” he says and she halts.

Five takes a seat on his bed and watches as she slowly turns to face him. She’s like a frightened fawn, poised to dash away at a moment’s notice.

“C'mere,” he says sweetly as though he means to coax a wild animal into a trap.

"I should go,” she breathes but even as she says this she’s turning from the door, inching towards him.

"Why?” he says lightly but there’s a darkness in his tone. “You got somewhere better to be? Just come here for a moment.”

She’s less than a foot away when he reaches out again and takes her hand in his. Such a small, dainty thing, from what he knows of the violin, Five thinks she must have the perfect hands for it. He puts his lips to her knuckles, drags them across the scar she got for him. When he looks up from her fingers, he finds her eyes fluttering closed. It’s reassuring to know that even this small touch has an effect on her. Though it isn’t enough, it is never enough.

She’s very plain, his sister. Her face still rounded with baby fat and flat dark hair that only lends to her roundness. Whereas their other sister had matured and blossomed, Vanya had largely stayed the same. Her large brown eyes and tiny button nose left her looking more akin to a mouse than a beauty. And yet, despite all this, he loves her. Desperately, he loves her. There’s no denying it. What Allison rumors becomes a fact. But it wasn’t just love the Rumor gave him, it was need, frantic, desperate, burning need. He leans into and presses his lips to the corner of her little pink mouth.

“Five. We agreed .”

He looks up at her and tilts his head to the side with feigned confusion. He’s almost the same height as her even when sitting. Vanya had failed to grow vertically as well as in looks. She was hardly an inch taller than when they were fourteen and he dwarfed her when he stood at full his height which was fast approaching six feet.

“We don’t indulge the rumor any more than we have to,” she says and pulls her hand back.

And he lets her but turns his attention to the buttons on her shirt. Vanya was no longer permitted to wear the academy uniform. Reginald had enrolled her in a private school in the city and now she mostly wore the pleated skirts and plain white button downs that they required. He likes these uniforms better than the jumpers that Reginald had stuck her in before. These were much easier to get into.

“No. I agreed,” he says as he fingers the little plastic button that sits just above her belly button. “You said that you didn’t want to take advantage of me and I agreed because I know how you so loathe to be the bad guy, my dearest sister.”

She’s quiet above him but he knows that her thoughts must be churning.

"But you’re not taking advantage of me, I’m taking advantage of you.”

He looks up at her again to see her baffled. He laughs unkindly.

“Don’t you get it, V?” he says hooking one of his fingers into the open space between two buttons. “You're my reward ."

His finger brushes the soft smooth skin of her belly and Vanya grimaces, a look of such disgust colors her face that he suddenly feels like he wants to throttle her. Just moments ago, she was shuddering at his kisses but now she looks like she wants to hurl. Five twists his fist into her shirt, ruining the once-pristinely ironed fabric and pulls her forward.

"Don’t play dumb. You think I don’t know why you’re up here? Did Dad tell you what a good job I did for him? Wanna hear how many I killed for you , just to get back to you ? Wanna know what it was like to slit their throats, what they said as I drained the life from them? It's so ironic how chatty people feel as soon as they have a knife in their throat."

Vanya’s reaction is immediate, she jerks away, stepping back as though to make for the door but his grip on her shirt doesn’t budge. Five tugs her forward and doesn’t miss the feel of her exposed belly beneath his knuckles. It sends a shudder down his spine. He feels ravenous, like he’s been starving for days and has been presented with a feast. Five pulls her closer again so that her face is nearly pressed into his chest.

“Don’t do that, Vanya. Don’t run away like this isn’t about you. This shit is yours as much as it is mine,” he whispers hoarsely into the crown of her head.

This is their burden, a cage built for two.

Vanya relaxes a little, her shoulders drop and the tension in her shoulders melts away. A shuddery breath escapes her lips as she turns her face to his. She looks almost as tired as he feels.

“What do you want from me?”

A silly question.

“What I always want, Vanya. You .”

It isn’t just that he loves her. He had loved her before Allison rumored him but thanks to her rumor, now he needed her. Being separated from Vanya was agony for him. He feels as though someone has ripped out his intestines and sent him walking, trailing his entrail out behind. If he can’t touch her, then he needs to see her, and if he can’t have that then he needed to at least hear her. Ironically enough, the further away he got from her the easier it was. While distance didn’t erase the hollow aching, it helped dull his awareness of it. The pain was at its pinnacle when she was close by but just out of reach. Reginald, once he realized this, made great use of his newfound tool of control.

"Come on, Vanya,” he croons trying sweetness again.

Vanya likes it when he’s sweet. He unfurls his fist and flattens the fabric over her stomach.

“It’s not like we haven’t before. Didn’t you like it the last time?"

Last week had been a dream. Five always felt the rumor’s pull just before long absences and knowing this about him, Vanya was usually more pliable. He'd finally convinced her to let him try eating her out. He had been obsessing over it for nearly a month, the thought of her spread out like a meal before him, of tonguing her inside her, tasting her from the inside was enough to make him dizzy. She'd been hesitant at first and it was new for both of them but Five had always been a dedicated learner and a quick study. He’d had her gasping for air and clawing at his scalp in practically no time.

Vanya bites her lip and considers his words then with shaky hands she begins to unbutton her shirt. Five leans back half in awe and half in smug satisfaction. When she gets to the last button, he leans forward and pushes her shirt open with both hands reverently. He splays his hands over her skin. She feels so warm and soft and good that he nearly sobs in relief. Pushing his right cheek against her belly, he wraps his arms around her middle and pulls her between his legs.

“Five,” Vanya gasps. “Are you sure you want -”

“Don’t ask me that,” he cuts her off sharply. “I always want this. Always . I don’t have a choice.”

He places a kiss above her navel. Vanya is staring down at him with a pained expression. Five reaches up and pinches one of her cheeks and smiles indulgently.

“Don’t look like that. You’re helping me,” he murmurs and begins to place open mouthed kisses up the center of her body. “You make it better, Vanya. You make it all worth it.”

Five sucks bright red spots over her abdomen as his fingers run up and down her sides. Above him he hears Vanya sighing and gasping with every wet pop of his mouth as it releases her skin. He feels her legs shaking between his thighs as he surveys his work. Her once-pale skin is speckled pink and his spit glitters on her skin. Her face is flushed and turned away.

“Well, I think I’ve had enough,” he says and he’s delighted when she turns to startled at his admission. “You can go now if you want. I won’t stop you.”

She stands there dumbfounded as he leans back on his palms. Her eyes dart around the room and back to his face, uncertain.

“Unless, you want more?”

Vanya worries her bottom lip as she considers again what she should do. Then after a few moments, she begins to slip her shirt from her shoulders.

“Atta girl,” he jeers.

She shoots him a hurt look but doesn’t pause as she begins to reach behind to undo her bra. He always likes watching her undress. It is strangely not a sexual desire. There’s something beautiful to him about her peeling back the layers and layers between them to stand naked before him. Sometimes, Five likes to sit on her bed in the mornings and watch her dress for school and when she comes home in the evenings, he watches her undress again. It’s a process that fascinates him to no end. One day, he’d like to dress her himself. He’s already gotten good at the undressing.

As she wrestles with the clasp at her back, Five runs his hands up her thighs to hook his fingers in the elastic of her cotton panties. He slides them down her thighs to her ankles and she lifts each of her feet as he removes them completely. Vanya moves to undo her skirt as well but he stops her.

“I like it on," Five shrugs.

He stands guides her towards his bed and situates her on the edge. Vanya folds her arms over her chest. It's sweet the way she still tries for modesty even when there's no such thing between them now. Five kneels down and gently lowers her arms. Vanya is still hesitant, resisting ever so slightly but he presses a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist and she folds. He trails more kisses up her arm and across her chest. Five feels her dip backwards baring herself more for him.

Five places a kiss at the center of her chest and flicks his tongue to taste the soft flesh there. Vanya hisses and twists at the sensation. To the left, he leaves a sticky, wet trail until he reaches the soft peak of her nipple. It's already tight and pert, begging for a taste. Five sends a hot puff of air from his mouth and she shivers in his arms.

"Your tits are so sensitive," he muses against her skin.

He breathes again over there nipple as Vanya squirms. Then with no preamble, he reaches up and flicks the little numb and Vanya yelps. Hips buck and she whines as he takes it between his fingers and rolls.

"Fuh-fah," Vanya chokes on his name.

" So sensitive," he murmurs and with her nipple still puckered between his fingers he drags his tongue over it.

"Ah! Shit ," Vanya says causing a stream of laughter to tumble from his mouth.

Vanya practically vibrates when he scrapes his teeth over the pert little nub letting loose another spout of profanity. Though usually sweet and passive, Vanya was prone to cursing when she was pushed to very edges of pleasure. It only made him work harder, push her further. If he had it his way, they’d do nothing but sit in his bed and work her over until she forgot her own name.

Vanya’s nearly out of her mind when Five finally leans back to survey his handiwork. She’s an obscene sight in nothing but her pleated skirt, spread out across his bed like a buffet. Her pale skin is littered with teeth marks and hickeys and he ghosts a hand over them as though he’s tracing the letters of his name. He wants to press into every inch of her his ownership. It is true that he is trapped by her but each time they’re together, she is just a little more ruined, a little more broken. Soon, she’ll be just as trapped as he is.

At least he hopes so.

Five glances up to find Vanya watching him, her eyes dark with desire as she watches him straighten to his full height. Without needing to be asked, she scoots backwards and lifts her legs. And though her face is flushed with embarrassment, her eyes never leave his as she spreads her thighs and lets her skirt fall back on her belly. Her heels find the edge of the bed as she opens herself to him.

Five is the one to break first, eyes dropping to the apex of her thighs. He can’t help himself. He loves the look of her cunt. Already she’s glistening, her folds slick with desire. He remembers tonguing her open, tasting her arousal on his tongue as she whimpered above him. His mouth is watering with the memory but while it's a tempting thought, he can’t wait. He has to be in her.

With his thumb, he presses her apart. Vanya gasps at the contact and when his eyes dart up to her, he finds her eyes glued to cunt as well. He wonders idly if she too is as entranced by the beauty of it. As though she can feel his eyes, she looks up and meets his eyes looking desperate. A whimper escapes her trembling mouth and it feels good. It feels so fucking good to see her look as pathetic and needy as he feels.

“You should see your face, V,” he says. “Why insist on denying that you want this just as much as I do, I’ll never know.”

Vanya winces as though he’s slapped her but before she can curl up into herself, Five finds the little hard nub of her clit and presses. She spasms as a shockwave rolls through her.

“Fuck,” she sobs and chews on the air for a moment trying to find her bearings but he doesn’t let her.

With practiced deftness, he removes himself from his pants and nudges her thighs further apart. She’s reeling when he pushes in the head of his erection. Vanya lets loose a low hiss and throws her head back. Her left hand is fisting his comforter while the other is against the wall behind her, digging into the paint.

“FiveFiveFive,” she chants frantically as he begins to slip further into her.

Her pleas are somewhere between terrified and desperate. He can’t quite be sure because he can’t see her face. His eyes are glued to the mesmerizing sight of her tiny cunt stretching to accommodate him as he pushes into her. It’s truly a wonder. Everything about Vanya is so tiny. Tiny waist, tiny mouth, her little dainty hands so it’s no surprise that her pussy would be so small and adorable. The first time they fucked, he’d almost thought it would be impossible to fit inside her. But he feels silly for ever thinking such a thing. Of course she’d be able to take him, she was made for him. She was perfect, perfectly made just for him.

He goes slow at first. It’s still so new for her, for the both of them really. It still feels raw, like ripping open a freshly healed wound and letting it bleed out. A sigh escapes his mouth as he sinks into her, eyes fluttering closed, head falling back. It’s beyond physical, what he feels when he’s inside her. Of course she feels amazing. Her cunt is warm and wet and so fucking good but it’s more than that. It’s as though he'd been holding his breath all this time and just now he'd finally been allowed to inhale. It’s as though he’d just been made whole. It’s as though he’s finally come home.

A part of him is distantly aware that the intensity of what he feels, the way he feels it is unnatural. It’s part of the rumor, albeit an unintended side effect. All his father had been looking for was a way to control him and though he got it, Five is now reaping the benefits, however scarce and fleeting they may be.

"Five," he hears from beneath him.

He looks down to find Vanya a mess. Her face is flushed, eyes glassy with unshed tears. Vanya always gets so overwhelmed when they fuck. He thought that perhaps it was just the first time, he’d tried his best to make it good for her but he knew it hurt. He’d kept the red-stained pair of cotton panties she’d worn that day, hidden it deep in his wardrobe away from any prying eyes or greedy hands that might take it from him.

But even after she’d healed, after it started to feel good for her too, Vanya still cried. Though, Vanya had always been a cry baby, crying even for the ants they used to crush out in the courtyard for fun. A tear buds at the corner of her eye and before it can slide down the side of her face into her hair, he catches it on his thumb. Not thinking anything of it, Five brings the pad of his thumb to his mouth and puts it to his tongue. It tastes of salt and just the slightest bit of her sweat. He’s learned not to take her tears personally, now it’s just nice to know she’s so moved.

“Five, please,” she whines followed by a low moan that gurgles at the back of her throat when he rolls his hips forward pushing into her fully.

“That what you wanted, sis? Feel better?”

She whines in response, too overwhelmed to form any intelligible response.

“You like being full huh?” then again more desperately, “you like it. You want this, just as much as I do. Don’t you, Vanya?”

He wants her to agree, wants her to tell him she loves him too, needs him as much as he needs her. But that’s impossible. There’s no one in the whole world who understands what he feels.

Five shifts back, pulling out of her fully and slamming back into her with enough force to send her little tits bouncing. He reaches up and rolls one little nub between his forefinger and thumb and Vanya yelps at the sensation. He’s recently realized that she likes it when he plays with her tits while he’s inside her. Five pulls on her little nipple causing her to keen loudly and leans down to place a kiss on her temple.

“We should be like this all the time,” he murmurs into her hairline where a sheen of sweat has begun to form.

He stills and just enjoys the feeling of being inside her. So warm and safe and whole, he could stay like that forever. He could have died happy there sunken into the core of her, the smell of her sweat and tears mixing into the smell of sex. His head drops down to the crook of her neck and he breathes in deeply the heady scent of her.

“F-five,” he hears her mumble.

He loves the sound of his name as it dribbles from her mouth half delirious with need. Her hands have found their way to his shoulders where her nails are digging little crescents into his skin just shy of drawing blood. He feels the pressure of her hips as she press up into him.

“I need more, please Five pleasepleaseplease,” she sobs. “I need you.”

Five feels his heart expand. He always loves her best when she’s undone. He can’t deny her when she’s being so honest. He sets a brutal pace, slamming into her hard enough to bruise but Vanya only sighs in relief at the friction.

“You feel so good, Vanya,” he huffs as he picks up pace, he feels his own face flushing. “No one else could ever feel this good for me. No one else. No one.”

Her breathing has gone ragged, a harsh, unruly tempo against the measured slap of skin against skin. He slips his thumb into her open mouth, pressing down on her tongue. It makes her gag a little and as she chokes her teeth come slamming down on his knuckle. Then she bites down, hard enough to draw blood and sends him over the edge, spilling into her. He cries out, an indecipherable mess of sound as he feels her clench around him as she cums. His eyes screw shut, behind them is nothing but searing emptiness as he sinks into bliss.

He collapses against her, half kneeling and half laying on her. Beneath him, he feels the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she wiggles beneath his weight. She shifts a little, as though to pull away but he slips his hand under her ass and pushes her hips into his. Vanya grunts, she’s still too sensitive but he doesn’t want to pull out of her yet. He stays there, pressed into her for a few minutes are Vanya’s breathing evens out beneath him.

He’s told no one this but it hurts when he pulls out of her. The loss of connection is like ripping his own arm off. Vanya slides her shaking arms around his neck, presses her cheek against his and even a few hesitant kisses to the shell of his ear. She’s so sweet after she cums, not withholding and flighty like she usually is. She’s more honest when she’s under him, when he’s inside her and he is always loath to bring it to an end but his legs are beginning to ache and his back is sore as well. The last six days of keeping his brothers and sisters in line and alive is starting to take its toll.

Her arms come undone from his neck with little resistance. When he leans back, Five finds Vanya already half asleep. Her eyes are dull, lids fluttering. Her body has gone slack with exhaustion and satiation. He hauls himself up, wincing as he slides out of her, to undress but he pauses a moment to take in the mess he's made of her.

At some point, she'd lost her footing and now her legs lay dangling just above the floor, spread wide. Her skirt lies in a wrinkled heap across her stomach leaving her messy little pussy completely exposed. His cum is still sliding out of her down to her ass and onto the comforter beneath. It's obscene but she doesn't even seem to register it.

The sight of her has him half hard already but he knows Vanya will need some time before she's ready again. Five strips down before turning his attention back to her. He replaces her skirt over her thighs, smoothing the fabric down so that the wrinkled fabric lays as flat as it can. He really does enjoy the skirt but it needs to come off. After appreciating his handiwork for a moment, he finds the zipper on her right hip and loosens it enough to slide the garment over her legs.

Vanya shifts a little while he works and as soon as her legs are free, she folds her legs into her middle and turns on her side. Five attempts to usher her over to the far side of his bed, but she resists.

"Don't be a brat," he murmurs but with no real malice behind the words.

Vanya cracks an eye to glare at him but eventually she crawls across his bed. Turning her back to him, Vanya tucks herself tightly against his bedroom wall. He stares for a moment at the smooth, unmarked expanse of her back. With a steady hand, he reaches out to brush his fingertips over the curve of her spine. Then, as if scalded, Vanya jumps and curls further into herself away from his touch.

His blood runs cold. The drone of a dead dial tone is ringing in his ear again and he is suddenly awash with the urge to tear into her, rip her back to him and shake her until she promises to never do that again. But an instant after the immediate blaze, his rage cools into bitterness. Her aloofness no longer came as a surprise.

In his worst moments, Five is racked by the fear that she will leave. As their eighteenth birthday draws closer, it becomes a more imminent possibility that Vanya might just disappear. She’s the only one of them who has the chance at any kind of normal life. Reginald had kept her presence almost entirely scrubbed from the media. Though the existence of a seventh baby was widely publicized, Hargreeves had paid an exorbitant amount of money to have it explained away. In theory, Vanya could leave any time she wants.

It isn't that he doesn't understand. The rumor doesn't turn him stupid. Vanya is afraid because she isn't stupid either. They both know that this is a lie, a fabrication created by three words spilled forth by a specific tongue. And for now, she can comfort herself with the belief in her helplessness. For now, they are both prisoners but Vanya is waiting for the day when he’ll wake up and look at her with disgust and accusation, finally free of his curse. There’s really no telling how long Allison’s abilities can last. As far as Five knows, his condition is the most persistent so far.

And on that day, everything will end. He'll be free but, he fears, also at a loss. Nothing will ever feel as good as being with her. As low as he can get without her, the high he experiences when he’s with her or at least when he's inside her, they're perfect. It's been carved into him, the craving, the ache and so too is the sweet relief and high that comes with indulging his addiction. He knows - he knows that this isn't real, but it feels real. And every day that passes, every moment that goes by, that distinction matters less and less.

So he’ll ruin her. To make her stay, he’ll break her down until she’s just as trapped as he is. Five palms her hip and coaxed her onto her back. A low whine rumbles in her chest but she doesn’t resist when he climbs in besides her and skates his hand up under legs and down between her thighs. He watches her face closely as she unfurls from her short nap, coming alive under his ministrations. Still slick with both his cum and hers, she takes his two fingers easily. Her thighs fall open without hesitation, tilting her hips to take him in deeper.

“Five.”

She moans his name so sweetly that he can almost believe that she could feel for him half of what he feels for her. In his head, the dead dial tone is still ringing but louder is the small hope that he's too afraid to voice.

This is real, this is real. It can work. She loves me enough for this to work.

It isn’t the rumor he needs to get rid of, Five thinks darkly to himself. He just needs to dispose of the person holding the leash.

#fiveya #fiveya fanfic

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