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hi-im-greenjunipertree · 2 years

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it's spooky month

time to soup post about fetch with ruff ruffman again haha

#fetch with ruff ruffman blossom #fetch season 5 #fetch season 5 is best anime #fwrr #pbs kids #meme #fwrr s5 #ruff ruffman #S O U P

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betadroids295 · 2 months

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In Honor of International Women's Day. Here is my take on the Seven Princesses of Heart with the Season 1-6 Fetchers.

#fetch! with ruff ruffman #princesses of heart #fetch season 3 #fetch season 4 #fetch season 5 #fetch season 6 #fetch season 1 #fetch season 2

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papyrusgayfont · 8 months

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* something that I’ve only just started thinking about recently is how in-universe, nobody knew what the miraculous were or how they worked, even though people had been looking for them since at least the 1940’s, in WWII I’m thinking: Master Fu, after WWII, made a wish to erase the knowledge of the miraculous from everyone’s minds

* that doesn’t mean they never existed, or that they were never used, it’s just that after the point in time where he made the wish, nobody was able to remember them

* but since he made the wish, there had to be a reaction to his action, so I think in exchange for “everyone will forget about the miraculous”, someone would have to learn about them again at some point, and that someone was Nathalie Sancoeur

* look, I don’t exactly know how or when Nathalie would’ve learned about the miraculous, but before the events of the series she was a hunter of magical artifacts. She could’ve found something relating to the miraculous, and decided to try and find more info about them.

* where and when she would’ve done that, I don’t know, but that doesn’t rule out the idea (at least to me)

* now according to the show bible, Tomoe was the one who introduced Nathalie to Gabriel and Emilie. Since the bible is outdated in certain areas (especially with Nathalie), this could also be outdated, but for the sake of this argument I’ll imagine that it isn’t

* what I think could’ve happened is that Nathalie learned about the peacock miraculous, and she told Tomoe (how they’re connected, idk, but whatever) about this, and so in turn Tomoe told her about the Agrestes and that Nathalie should be the one to help them out

* Gabriel, Emilie, and Nathalie would’ve met afterwards, and then the rest is history

* maybe I’m just reaching in all this, I don’t know lmao, but it was fun to think about, so

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le-bon-pamplemousse · 2 years

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If young justice gets renewed for season 5 I’m ready to jump on the clown train for my dc blorbos

so ursa has the eye of ekrom and is the emerald empress yes

who else uses the eye of ekrom and hasn’t been introduced yet in young justice?

Starfire

#I’m putting on my wig and my clown shoes as I type this #I mean we’re still in a meta trafficking overarching plot soooooo it’s not that far fetched that she might show up #manifesting koriand’r for season 5 #first yj has to get renewed but whatever #young justice

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shaarlslec · 1 year

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me and the devil

words: 2769

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

warnings/notes: charles leclerc x reader, none for now; i've been gone but now i am back and i am trying to get back into writing, this is only an introduction to help me get back on track;

inspired by: Soap&Skin - Me And The Devil, The Neighborhood - Afraid, The Academic - Why Can’t We Be Friends?, lovelytheband - i like the way, The Wombats - Turn , Wallows - Pleaser

masterlist

You have been friends before being teammates, each developing what seemed to be crushes on the other during that time. Then, you helped him achieving what he had always craved the most by playing the good cop of the game – and now you were turning on him.

Two championships in the bag since the 2024 season, Charles Leclerc was now fighting for the third one. Flued by the mistakes and wrongdoings of his team and his alone, Charles changed the game, and he was not planning to stop anytime soon. He had to win, he had to be the best that there ever was – and winning two championships represented the beginning of his legacy.

Charles had realized three seasons ago that the good old ways of listening and submitting to his team’s orders was not working anymore for him and his goals. Trusting them with his whole heart that they have a plan for him somewhere soon in the future neither.

First season since the attitude adjustment brought him the second place in the Championship miles away from third place, and the other two the winning title bringing the Italian team back on top, instituting dominance back on the grid. How that managed to happen, everybody wondered when the answer was rather smile – Charles Leclerc was done being nice, obedient, and sweet.

The Monegasque flicked a switch, decided not to follow Xavi’s words all the time over the radio and stopped the hope tap, instead Charles began staying up late every single evening after a race with the engineers and strategists to plan the best way to fetch the next win, not letting them move a finger without him knowing. The entirety of Charles’ life outside and inside the track was Formula 1, not even bothering to afford leisure time anymore, hours and hours of training, testing, and manhandling.

Starving for the win every time when he passed Max or Lewis, never switching positions with his teammate if asked too and sarcastically apologizing for any accident he had provoked due to his now very risky driving – no matter the drivers who were involved. That is what Charles had to do to put his team back on top, and to stop the laughs coming from his haters. Failures can make a man turn bad, and it has turned Charles Leclerc for good.

Ferrari minded at first, but after seeing how a good guy turned bad can win them races, can win them points, can cash for them, and put them back at top, the comments towards him from the team had stopped. No matter how harsh Charles replied to interviewers and no matter how much fuss he was making over the radio – they let him rule.

You were bothered by that to an extend that those sleepless nights that Leclerc had in the garage were your own too – figuring a way to beat him at his own game as his teammate. Yes, the truth was that Charles Leclerc could have not done it without you, without his sweet lieutenant: the one who agreed on being Ferrari’s second driver and forever little helper for Charles Leclerc to shine.

You took Ferrari’s seat two years ago, and the timing could have not been more unfortunate for you to take your shot at one of the bigger teams after rookie years of switching seats in between midfield ones. You were proud to be one of their drivers as everyone dreaming of racing could have been, and it was meaningless to say that part of the excitement of sharing spots with Charles was highly impacted by your undying little crush on him since you were just a junior.

Those feelings of admiration, marvel and curiosity swiftly turned into resentment throughout the two years. Oh, what complications your feelings for Charles were. In the same fashion, what complications you joining the team was for Charles. He knew you, and no in the way the others knew you – but in the way of him being your mentor throughout the years. He had always been talented, and you caught his drift from earlier on watching him climb the ladder as you followed in his steps.

You followed him around when you could, being five years younger than him and not attending the same tracks and leagues as him made it complicated to do so – and yet, you managed. Charles saw something in you too, although you two were not exactly from the same generation – he took his time before F1 races to watch you drive in your F2 ones and watch closely if you were taking his advice. He liked to think about you as somewhat an investment, but what do you do when you start to find your investment as something so much more?

The little protégé turned into the protector, having Charles’ back anytime he needed, changing positions with him every single time when asked, putting him ahead of you all the time for the sake of the team for two whole years. Your mentor-mentee relationship changed since you two were now teammates, and when you were not faking it for the sake of PR and Ferrari’s imagine – you were playing catching mouse most of the time. You obeyed for the first two years, and yet you were the first one to be feed up about Charles Leclerc’s villainous attitude that got him winning championships in the first place. Therefore, you were becoming a threat now although people in the time were already talking about your shift – Charles Leclerc was the first one to feel it.

“I am pretty sure I am faster than him.” You spoke quite calmly to your race engineer hitting the DTS zone while being 0.782 seconds behind P1 that Leclerc hardly managed to keep due to his tire degradation, “I am not waiting for your approval, I am passing him.” You declared, fingers almost crushing on the steering wheel.

“No, no, Y/N. Do not pass him, I repeat – do not pass Charles.”

If you could have rolled your eyes at the engineer, you would have done it in the most annoyed ways he had ever seen a woman disgusted by his words ever in his life. Instead, you keep your calm and speeded. Leclerc was not the only driver that was not listening to his team, you were not either – he thought you that through his actions, right? Well, Charles taught you most things you know about how to race for Ferrari.

It was never easy to pass Leclerc, especially this season since Ferrari managed their best to produce a car according to his driving style (jokes were on him in that matter, since you have been mimicking his driving style since you were fourteen). And yet, through the ten races this season had so far you quite enjoyed every single battle on track with your teammate. Full concentration on, you battled Charles for almost one full lap teasing him enough for his tires to almost fail completely and for your entire body to ache at every single taking of a risky turn wheel to wheel with him.

Fans were in awe; Fred and the whole team were at the edge of their seats with hands clasped praying you two will not crash like you did during the season’s last race (causing your car to be retracted), and as you passed Charles and maintained the ten last laps ahead of your teammate with a teensy half of a second gap or even less you knew that everyone was going to talk about how you stole P1 from Leclerc for the third time this season. Also, you knew how Leclerc’s reaction was going to look like in front of the others. Calm, restricted and with a congratulatory smile all over his pretty damn face. Fuck, it would have been easier for everyone (especially for you) if Charles were not to have such a pretty damn face.

“You needed to be stubborn, weren’t you?” Charles spoke as soon as your helmets were off and you were waiting your turn to hop on the podium after Max claimed the third spot, making sure that you two were the only ones hearing his words.

“You need to stop acting like a prick, don’t you?” You returned the comment making him room to pass you, “Go on now Leclerc, claim your second.” You dared to mock even further, blood boiling inside Charles’ insides as his dreadful glare pierced you with the additional shake of head and a corny smirk sprung on his face.

That was usually how many of your conversations with Charles went lately, sarcastic comments and calling each other on your surnames, faking the coldness of what was a made-up reality in between the two of you. In that type of a reality – you two hated each other when, in fact – you were drowning until the pits of hell together not in heathered but in a form of lustful longing and yearning Dante wrote about.

It was useless to say that your relationship was a twisted complicated one. You have been friends before being teammates, each developing what seemed to be crushes on the other during that time. Then, you helped him achieving what he had always craved the most by playing the good cop of the game – and now you were turning on him. Oh, more than acquaintances, less than friends and under many circumstances craving to be lovers.

The evening after the race called for a huge party thrown into your honor and the 1-2 finish for the team, and the timing could not have been more perfect as that was the last race before the summer break. You needed this, you deserved the win – and you were going to celebrate with everyone who wanted to do so. All the drivers were invited, Charles Leclerc included. Most of you knew that he will not came. Charles had missed most of the parties in the past two years, even though most of them were thrown for him.

“He is going too far with his World Champion vibe.” Norris spoke as the group you were with at the bar were talking about the bet that has been placed at the beginning of every party in the last year or so: will the champ come?

You slightly sighed, your bid for tonight was “no” no matter how much you would have wanted him to truly celebrate with you your win. You took one of the shots that were placed across the bar and drowned it whole. That’s it Y/N, you have to abandon the idea that he still finds you likeable.

Shaking your head due to the high percentage of alcohol you found burning your mouth, you turned to Norris and gave him frowned look, “You always choose the most grotesque shots to start the night with.” You added, napkin now glued to your lips.

Norris’ eyebrows cockily twitched up, “Wait until you see the other that I have plan—” Norris begun to speak but shut his mouth tersely as his eyes went behind your shoulders fixing them on whatever he saw that made him grunt, “Oh fuck – losing all my money again just because of him.” Norris muttered, eyes rolling as well.

Your heart sunk the moment Norris’ finished, Charles was right behind you. You could have caught that judging by what Norris just said, and yet what gave it away was the scent of that one Prada perfume you knew too well. Looking over your shoulder, your glare fixed Leclerc who was already looking right back at you. Besides sarcastic and bitter comments, excruciating long enduring stares was one of your things too. Perhaps they meant something more than just seeing who is winning at the game of asserting dominance, something in between the lines of “I want to touch you, and yet I am afraid I might get burned.”

“Don’t give her too many shots – she gets drunk easy.” He commented, and of course the very first thing your teammate said in a mass of people was about you.

“I don’t.” You childishly replied without breaking the eye-contact, knowing very well yourself that your alcohol tolerance was not something you could show off like you do with your driving skills.

Leclerc let a short amused chuckled escape from between his lips, “Let’s agree to disagree.” He then added, taking a shot as well after quitting in fixing your glare with his – you won this time too.

“That is all you two have been doing since the beginning of the season, aren’t you bored yet?” Russell interviewed with a swift move inside the party, patting your shoulder and gently taking you into a warm embrace, “Congrats darling, awesome drive today!” He then added, joining Leclerc for shots but not before he metaphorically turned the knife inside his friend, “I wish I could say the same about you too, Charles.”

You mimicked an embarrassed smile watching Leclerc giving George a side-eye, “Thank you, George.” You added, not missing on the chance of mocking Charles together with him, “You did your best, don’t mind George.” You bittersweetly spoke, Leclerc placing the empty shot glass back on the bar and giving you one of his signatures shake of disapproval accompanied by a short silence before a scornful comment.

“Since when does George Russell call you darling?” Leclerc then asked, watching George and Norris make their duty in finding homes for the remining shots made of the other drivers’ hands.

Your shoulders shrugged, “I guess it is a British thing.” You shortly laughed, “And since when do you care how other drivers call me?” You wondered, catching yourself too comfortable to really laugh in presence of Leclerc without the laughs being results of sarcastic comments exchanged in between the two of you.

Leclerc’s eyes widened for a short while as he found himself a contented position next to you, who were sitting on a high-bar chair making yourself stood a little taller to Charles’s side, with his elbow pressing the bar’s surface and his chin sustained in his palm, forearm fully into your sight now as well as his peering eyes on yours again. To add to this whole thing, Charles’ other hand wrapped its fingers on the edges of the chair you stood in.

Inches away from each other while the others were taking their seats at the woodened table at your left next to the bar waiting for the food, you two felt like you were alone in the whole entire restaurant – just as you feel when your cars are creeps away on the track.

“I don’t.” Charles replied, fingers gripping on the chair even tighter – sign that Leclerc actually did care on whatever appellatives others used for you when you two only permitted surnames in between the two of you, “We need to talk about today.” He then voiced and you could feel your heart sinking right into your stomach.

“We don’t.” You added, getting down from your seat with a hasty move that meant being trapped in between the chair and Leclerc for a brief second before he took two steps back, almost as if he was careful of your bodies not to accidentally collide, “I have nothing to say to you – I was faster and I passed.” You smiled right back at him, “Sucks to be the second driver at Ferrari for the day, right?” You spoke looking over your shoulder as you made your way to the table next to the others.

You left Charles hanging in there with no chance to reply. He breathed slowly, and after selfishly taking another shot from the bar, your teammate followed your steps towards the table but made sure to sit across from you.

Hours passed, food was served and finished, drinks were aligned and tasted. You enjoyed celebrating your win, and you would have wished for the one standing across the table from you peering with those beautiful damn eyes catching yours from time to time analyzing them back, to celebrate it with you too. Yet, that was unheard off – Charles Leclerc was not celebrating other drivers’ wins anymore.

You liked sweet Charles better than villain Leclerc, and you caught yourself thinking about this while Charles was exchanging shots with Pierre at the bar that evening laughing about unknown whispers coming from the French driver right at Charles’ ears.

In all loudness, Charles’ laughs echoed the most in your head and you would have been able to give up all your wins for him only if that guaranteed you that Charles that you knew back into your mentorship years could come back – that is how complicated being teammates with Charles Leclerc was for the moment, and how much more complicated it will become now that you were turning into the devil you were so afraid of walking with.

#he is so boyfriend coded is not fair #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 fandom #f1 fiction #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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kaybreezy3000 · 1 month

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

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

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

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

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

(8,711 words)

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'Hargreeves home for wayward boys'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Five scowled even more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Five scooched even closer to the screen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You said you felt bad for him!

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

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

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

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

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

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

This had turned into some kind of fictional love affair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

Had you heard him right?

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

“Please stop crying,” he whispered.

You shook your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your droopy eyes reactively flipped open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His kiss was perfectly unpracticed, warm and innocent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That perked Five’s attention.

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

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

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

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

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

“Perfetta.” (Perfect.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of all people, Five had chosen you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I asked you to go on a date with me after we finish this little reenactment of yours,” he replied, his words slow and thick. “I need an older woman like you to show me the way of the world and keep me in line and nothing would make me happier than to take you to dinner tonight and tomorrow night and...”

Oh my God.

Gone was the jerk you’d been walking on pins and needles around, and here was a man pouring out his heart to you though you hardly knew each other. To add to your dismay, you could tell he at least partially was lying. There’s no way Five had said all of that while glammering you with his ability to speak in seductive sounding languages. His arrogant little smirk as he lied only added to his power over you, yet you found that all you wanted was to kiss it right off his pretty lying face.

“Well, is it a plan? Will you go on a date with me?” he pushed, while also pushing his hardening shaft into the hand that you had been using to leisurely stroke him.

You laughed at the absurdity of the situation you’d gotten yourself into. The age differences you were dealing with were complicated to say the least, not to mention that you’d already messed up how normal people went about starting this kind of thing.

Doing your best pouty face, you pretended to be offended. “I am not older than you. Not really”

“No, you are not,” he agreed then frowned too and just like that, you wanted to do anything in your power to make him smile again.

Leaning in, you gave Five the softest, most chaste kiss you could.

“I take that as a yes to both aforementioned questions,” he mumbled, not even breaking your kiss as his arms fastened around you and he started lifting you both out of the chair.

Not stopping, in a matter of seconds, Five had you repositioned on top of the desk with his body lined up between your legs.

With his dick in hand, Five didn’t look at all embarrassed as he jerked himself off as he patiently waited for your answer.

This man had said he wasn’t going to end you but right then you knew he was ruin you for anyone else.

“Yes to both,” you frantically gulped, to which Five instantly started swiping his cockhead across your slicked wet entrance.

“Ohhh, fuu-ah-auck!” he moaned as he sank forward and your body stretched and clenched around him with each slow dip inside you that he took.

Biting down your own much higher pitched curse, your fingernails went up under his shirt, stripping it and his vest off.

As Five’s entire length disappeared all the way inside you your body folded around him.

You saw stars and Five also looked perfectly shattered by what he must have been feeling and seeing.

Clinging to him, your fingers dug into his back and he carefully began to roll his hips, fucking you deeply at first, only switching to full and more abrupt thrusts the more your body accepted him.

It was as things were starting to really get moving that Luther walked in.

“Hey, Five?” he started to question before he saw you and what Five was doing to you and then let out a very startled sounding, “Oh SHIT!”

You were already trying to cover breasts but Five didn’t seem concerned about it at all. With hardly a look up over your shoulder, with his cock still slamming into your cunt as he bucked his strong hips, hitting you just right, he roughly grunted out, “I. Smell. Something. Burning. Arrr-you trying to think again, Luther?”

Five’s larger than life brother was floundering, the heels of his shoes clumsily moving backwards before he ran into the wall.

“I urrr-umm… I felt bad. I mean, we felt bad,” he frantically rambled. “I was coming back to see if you were feeling any better about the naming thing. We can go with your idea if you really want and…and we were hoping you changed your mind about coming out to the karaoke bar with us and…shit. This is awkward!”

Still using your legs for leverage as he fucked you as hard as he could, looking up with a goofy smile you’d never seen him make as he casually blew his hair out of his face, Five spoke as if nothing was amiss at all. “I love the ‘Hargreeves Home for Wayward Boys’ name. It’s perfect, just like my smart lady right here said it was, but really Luther… No shit this is awkward for you! Get the fuck out. Can’t you see that I’m a little busy?”

As your body started to tense and then fall into quaking vibrations of uncoiling heat all compounded by flaming embarrassment, just then, Ben rounded the corner, letting out a cynical sounding laugh as his hand flew over his mouth then came down slapping his leg instead.

“Come on, big guy. Looks like this isn’t the time for a family chat,” he said, guiding his frozen brother out of the room.

Alone again, you were somewhere between orgasmic bliss and an odd sort of mortification filled with the feeling that nothing really mattered but the man whose head had fallen against your chest as he started to spill inside you while muttering praises that made your heart feel like it might burst.

This was nuts. All of this was. But somehow, it made sense. It was perfect and you couldn’t have written it happening any better.

Somehow, with Five and his crazy family, you knew things would always be unexpected and extraordinary, but you were ready for it. The once broken but not beaten wayward boy was proving he was far from giving up and he didn’t need special powers to make your wildest dreams come true. He just needed to be the person he'd always been.

Thanks for reading, lovies. ❤️

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krakenartificer · 2 months

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Who wants a really sad Leverage headcanon?

Was re-watching the Gimme a K Street Job -- Season 5 Episode 5 -- and a couple of things stood out to me.

1) Nate says "Let's go steal some congresspeople", and then sends everyone on the team (except Parker, who's being a cheer coach) out to con one of their targets. But it feels like there's a profound mismatch in who gets which mark.

For the "not like other girls" feminist congresswoman who's inclined to dismiss cheer as worthless and demeaning, you need Eliot to come in looking like a man who very much knows what does and does not count as a sport, and be his tiny angry respect-women-juice self about how regardless of what you think of their choice of clothing they are working as hard as any other athlete and they deserve safety as much as anyone else. But instead they sent Hardison.

For the "Yes I am very busy and important; admire me" chairman, you need Sophie, who is better than anyone else on the planet at making you feel admirable when you're doing what she wants, and scummy and low when you're not doing what she wants. But instead they sent Eliot.

For the "Look I am trying, but I need corn subsidies or I won't be able to do anything else" newbie congressman, Hardison could happily have gone on an infinitely recurring series of fetch quests until he sees the place where they loop around and bottom out and every problem solves every other problem. But instead they sent Sophie.

2) Eliot struggles the most, so Nate works with him the most, but he doesn't help him out hardly at all; he just keeps saying, "So what's your next play?" and then revealing that he's already anticipated Eliot's next play and has all the materials in place to enact it. And of course, they do eventually get the dude on board, and it all works out, but afterwards, Eliot tells Nate, "I trust that some time soon you'll tell me why you had me slogging through all that when you already knew how to hook him."

And of course, knowing what we now know about how season 5 ends, it makes sense that Nate is trying to train the OT3 to work without him, looking for his replacement.

Except.

If the plan is to fuck off into the sunset with Sophie, then why did he throw Sophie into this uncomfortable not-my-wheelhouse scenario?

No, Nate's preparing the entire team to carry on without him. He's forcing them to learn how to plan, learn different ways of approaching problems, to think about bigger pictures and approach them strategically.

...

I think Nate just got the first diagnosis of the disease that's finally going to kill him. And again, we -- the audience -- now know that he's going to live for many years after that initial diagnosis. But he doesn't know that, at this point. He knows he's tested positive, and he knows it's eventually going to kill him, and he has no idea how long he has.

And in some sense, it doesn't matter how long he has. Three months or thirty years, that kind of revelation makes it stunningly clear that taking care of the people you love means making sure that they can take care of themselves.

So that's what he does: he throws them into new, uncomfortable situations where they'll have to grow and support each other without him, so that no matter what happens, they'll be able to keep going. Because he's not a nice person, Jimmy Ford's son, but by God does he know the importance of protecting your family.

#leverage #nate ford #nathan ford is not a nice man but he's the only thing standing between us and jimmy ford's son #headcanon #spoilers #leverage spoilers #leverage redemption spoilers #gimme a k street job

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hi-im-greenjunipertree · 2 years

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On this day in 2006, Fetch! with Ruff Ruffman premiered and aired its first episode. I feel older.

Yo fuck this new image post format. I JUST WANT TO PUT THE IMAGES SIDE BY SIDE TUMBLR WTF

#FETCH WITH RUFF RUFFMAN #fetch! with ruff ruffman #fetch #fwrr #pbs kids #pbs kids go #fetch season 1 #fetch season 2 #fetch season 3 #fetch season 4 #fetch season 5 #ruff ruffman #happy anniversary fetch!

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ggomos-maribat · 8 months

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5 | in which Marinette Dupain-Cheng is behind schedule

Part 5 of No Mr. Wayne You Can't Adopt Me! | Masterlist

Marinette's schedule had become a mess.

She went to the grocery store to do some late night shopping, but when she got to the fresh produce section, the place had fallen victim to a robbery. So there she was, cart positioned in front of her, leaning against the crates after the customers were all told to get down. She tapped on her knees restlessly—Gotham's vigilantes hadn't arrived yet.

If the robber is intercepted in forty minutes, I'll have fifteen minutes to finish shopping and fifteen more to fall in line and pay. Her face twisted into a frown. That's too much time off from work and sleep.

Marinette yawned and peeked through the aisles where the goons were yelling at the poor cashiers. Does it count as work time if I help the vigilante side of my boss? She wondered tiredly. She'd promised not to get too involved when such things happened (she had a cover to keep after all), but the interruption had become an annoyance.

Fine, if they're not here yet after ten minutes, I'm kicking those asses myself, she decided. She opted to scan her surroundings instead to save some time looking for items.

Finally, the sound of grappling guns whizzed in the air, followed by capes swishing. The Bats wasted no time introducing their fists to the criminals. Marinette rolled her eyes. Seriously, how'd they get the idea to rob a grocery store? It's too big of a space for a small group of robbers—anyone can run out and get some help—ooh, wait, is that half-priced lettuce?

Unfortunately for her, the vigilantes seemed to be taking a longer time rounding up all the robbers. She really really wanted to get the lettuce and go back to her apartment. A few more minutes passed and she made up her mind to transfer her items to a basket and crawl through the floor to continue shopping. If I can get to the self-checkout line, maybe I can still follow my schedule, thought Marinette.

She made her way between shelves, grabbing what she needed while laying low without a care in the world about the grunts and punches and kicks she was hearing. She got her precious lettuce, moved on to the frozen section for a while, and then back to the main aisles to fetch the seasonings she needed. Whenever she got a glimpse of Batman, she ducked out of he way, knowing that he'll fuss over her the next day if he found out that she was in the middle of the robbery.

Alas, she forgot to also pay attention to the other Bats. While she was on her knees, ground pepper in one hand, she looked up to see Robin who was staring at her in shock.

She stared back with a straight face.

"What are you doing? " Robin finally spoke.

"Shopping," she said, putting the pepper shaker in her basket.

"What—how—why now? "

Marinette settled for no more than one word. "Capitalism."

The boy cleared his throat, seemingly still puzzled by her actions. "Have you seen other robbers holding customers hostage around here?"

She distractedly pointed to the next aisle over and he took off.

***

Marinette thought she got the stabby Robin off her back, but he came up to her while she was in self-checkout after the robbers were all rounded and tied up.

"What are you doing?" The vigilante asked. "We need your statement first before you leave, miss."

When Marinette looked up, she saw a number of other patrons continuing their business . . . plus Batman speaking with the commissioner. Seriously, he couldn't have asked anyone else?

"What you did was dangerous. You could've been seen by them," Robin scolded.

"I was in a hurry. There was half priced lettuce." Marinette began to shove all the goods into multiple bags as fast as she could.

"You could've waited—"

"No, I couldn't." With a nod, Marinette took all the heavy bags into her arms and ran out of the store as fast as she could.

***

The company didn't require her to work late at night, obviously, but it became a habit for Marinette just like when she sketched before bed. It helped her set things in order for the next day and go over the details she needed to prepare. WE was by no means the perfect corporation and Bruce wasn't the perfect boss, but Marinette was content with her job, especially since it paid well.

She tucked her legs up her chair, reading the files under the yellow light. Yes, WE had its own faults—there were still supervisors from the Marketing Department who'd send interns on coffee runs instead of giving them actual work, and a few execs seemed keen on pocketing money for themselves. Though if she could pick out those issues one by one and bring them up to Bruce, it would be a good change in the workplace.

Meanwhile, as the girl focused on her work, a few vigilantes hung out outside of her window.

"Tt. Father, are you overworking Marinette?"

"What?"

"I found her in the store shopping while the robbers were still active." Robin crossed his arms. "When I asked she only said 'capitalism'."

". . . What?"

***

One office day, Tim decided to stretch and take a walk outside his office for a break. He wandered into the copy room, where he saw Marinette waiting by the printer. He was a little sleepy by that time, but managed to greet her with a quick 'hello' which she reciprocated, followed by: "Do you need anything, Mr. Drake?"

He yawned. "No thanks."

He'd say he needed coffee but he knew Bruce banned him from consuming any more for the week.

After the copy room, he then went to the break room where he found Marinette again. This time, she handed him a cup of what looked like decaf, freshly prepared. "Uh." He squinted at her. "Weren't you just . . ."

"Hmm?"

"You were just . . ." He pointed towards the direction he came from. "Nevermind."

Maybe he was starting to hallucinate.

Not wanting to decline the drink, he took a seat and began taking small sips. He idly watched Marinette heat up pastries for snacks, probably for Bruce. A few minutes ticked by and he excused himself to go to the toilet.

. . . Where he saw Marinette coming out of the ladies' room.

"Weren't—" he sputtered. "You—you were just in the break room! I left you there!"

Marinette's smile appeared forced, but concerned. "No, I wasn't . . .?"

"You were!"

". . . Perhaps you should get some sleep, Mr. Drake," Marinette advised.

"No, I swear! You were there!"

She gave yet another worried smile and went off towards the elevator. Tim shook his head as he went to the bathroom. Had he lost his mind after all? He finished his business quickly and hurried back to his office to gather his thoughts.

But as he passed by Bruce's office he caught someone going out the door.

Someone by the name of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

"Didn't you go downstairs?!" He exclaimed, wide-eyed. This particular Marinette seemed surprised by his outburst.

"Sorry?"

"You went to the elevator!"

"No, I was here." She raised an eyebrow. "In Mr. Wayne's office."

He grabbed her shoulders and started shaking her. " What are you?!"

He was sure he saw her disappear through the sliding doors. He was certain it was her who was in the break room, and outside the bathroom, and inside the copy room. He didn't stop mumbling nonsense until a curse-spouting, stressed Tamara Fox dragged him away from the confused Marinette.

What the poor Tim Drake didn't know unfortunately, was that Marinette strived to meet deadlines every day. And when schedules were tight, she simply couldn't do all her tasks by herself.

So, occasionally, the assistant would pull off a little Hermione Granger and employ the help of a certain time-traveling Miraculous to be in several places at once.

#maribat fic #maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #dc x miraculous #NMWYCAM #PA!Marinette

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pollsnatural · 25 days

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People who insult me because of my opinions will be blocked very quickly. Just block me, don't waste your time, I don't want to argue with you.

I also know that some of my opinions are very popular in different corners of the fandom. But they're still unpopular in other parts of the fandom, so it counts.

EDIT: "didn't teach"

#it's certainly a bad idea #but whatever #polls #spn #supernatural #pollsnatural opinion

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momojedi · 3 months

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Bad Batch: Season 3

My Predictions

The final countdown has started and I'm not ready at ALL! Here are some of my predictions for Season 3 and what I could imagine happening!

1. Tech will be back.

Yes, the trope of dead characters returning is incredibly overused. But as many others I have a good reason to believe that Tech might still be alive. Think about it. It’s pretty likely Hemlock managed to locate Tech’s body considering he left us a huge breadcrumb: his goggles.

Why would Hemlock get rid of a genetically enhanced super soldier, especially considering he likely knows how to properly brainwash someone?

I too like to think that Tech might be the black armoured soldier in the front. It’s the same, if not similar armour as Clone X. Maybe these are part of a special type of clone assassins or troopers? Could they be the prototype for the Dark or Death Trooper?

It’s pretty plain to say that Tech will likely come back, though probably not as the Tech we know.

2. Crosshair & Omega Dynamic

We've seen Omega genuinely bond with all of the Bad Batch - except for Crosshair. Despite her trying her best to get to him every time they had the chance to interact, he denied her any kind of response. Whether that would be because he's just too withdrawn or because he refuses to let anyone see his vulnerable side, we don't know so far.

What we do know however, both based on pure logic alone and the fact that we've heard them both involved in a heated debate in the leaked trailer from the Star Wars Celebration last year, is that they likely will spending a lot of time together on-screen now that they're both captives of the Empire.

Hopefully Omega will be able to lift Cross' spirits, he doesn't seem to be doing very well from what we've seen!

3. Ventress will be an enemy!

Asajj Ventress! We all know and love her, so naturally it's incredibly nice to find out that she'll be returning to the screens for the final season of the Bad Batch! Despite they're naturally being some raised eyebrows considering her fate in the Dark Disciple book, I'm curious to see in what way they'll connect the stories!

However, seeing as Ventress could rather be classified as an anti-hero rather than a full on hero, I believe that she won't be helping the Batch but rather fighting them in order to get to what she wants - as she likes to do.

Perhaps she'll end up cooperating when she realises there might be no other solution, but I strongly doubt she'll be any help to them when it comes to following their personal goals.

4. The Fall of the Clone Rebellion

It's sadly no secret that given the events of Rebels and the three remaining clones Rex, Gregor & Wolffe, it's very likely the rebellions aka rescue of the clones didn't go as initially planned.

I could imagine this being explained a bit clearer in the finale, perhaps even leading up to a great fight against the Empire in the end. We can't forget that the series mainly revolves around a rogue batch of clones, so the thought that it might also go out with a clone-centric subject, especially such a big one, isn't necessarily far-fetched.

5. The End of the Mission

And finally, my most tragic prediction: The end of the Bad Batch.

The writers have been making it very clear that season 3 will likely be the darkest season of the show which unfortunately leads me to think that, as much as I'd want it not to be the case, the finale will lead to the ultimate end of Clone Force 99.

I suspect the series to end with the batch ending up together in some way, as the original five, and landing in a tricky life-or-death situation. Perhaps they'll be stuck in a crashing ship with a one-person escape pod or maybe they'll be facing a threatening figure such as Sidious, leading to the decision to sacrifice themselves in order to protect Omega.

Either way, despite season 3 likely becoming a tragic rollercoaster of emotions, I'm glad we had the chance to experience the epic story of the Bad Batch. It's sad to see them go and although these characters have become like a family not only to me, but to many other fans, let's enjoy our last moments with them and let them go out with a bang!

#star wars #clone wars #bad batch #bad batch season 3 #bad batch s3 #the bad batch #the clone wars #clone force 99 #star wars the bad batch #star wars the clone wars #star wars clone wars #tbb

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phaeton-flier · 2 months

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There are a lot of good criticisms of the MCU but the dumbest one was always "they expect you to do homework to keep up, why do I have to watch all this shit" and like. Yeah. That's how long-running series work. When you walk into The Godfather part 3 you're expected to have seen 1 and 2 first. When you watch The Sopranos Season 6 they, unsurprisingly, expect you to have seen seasons 1-5.

It's ok to not want to do that but it's not exactly far-fetched here.

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