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#the umbrella academy x reader imagines
mrsdarkandyandere7 · 4 months
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Caged In
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Pairing: Yandere Five Hargreeves x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
SUMMARY: You try escaping Five but you should’ve known he’ll never let that happen.
WARNINGS: Implied Kidnapping.
AN: Five is aged up, as usual. Please, reblog and give me feedback.
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It’s pure luck how you managed to catch Five unguarded, successfully kicking him in the groin and running towards the door as he slouches in pain. 
Not so lucky as the door is locked. You should’ve guessed but right now, your brain is working fast, adrenaline pumping in your veins. You take a left turn, running towards one of the guest rooms, hoping that at least one of their windows must be unlocked. 
It’s the first time you’re actually trying to escape, acting upon an impulse. Five is going to be ballistic but you don’t have another choice. You just can’t stay here anymore. 
It’s driving you insane. Actually he’s insane and he’s on the verge of turning you insane too. 
“Y/n! Come back here now.” Five loudly yells but you don’t even dare to slow down.
You have a hopeful feeling this is going to work.
Barging into one of the large guest rooms, you immediately run towards the window and try to shove it upwards. 
It doesn’t even budge. 
You frantically run towards the next room, spitting a cuss word. Five is nowhere to be heard but you know it won’t take long before he’s fully operational again. That thought alone makes your hands sweat. 
You forcefully push the door, praying this window is unlocked but as soon as you take a step inside the room, Five materializes. A cocky grin on his face, hands on his hips. 
“Oh? Were you planning on going somewhere, darling?” he mocks you.
“Five, please…” you beg, feeling your determination slipping away from you as he starts taking steps towards you. 
“You actually thought you’d be able to get away from here? From me?” he lets out an incredulous laugh.
“You should’ve known better, Y/N. I’ll never allow you to leave me. You’re stuck with me for the rest of eternity.”  
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sagelovesbooks · 5 months
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Klaus's Freakout
Five: *Kicks the door down in a rush* Y/N: What did you do? Five: Nobody died. Klaus: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!
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mangoshorthand · 1 year
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Hii I'm a real sucker for your smuts and I was wondering if you could do a five one where he walks in on reader riding their pillow and thinking about him while doing it (and they haven't had intercourse in a long while because of apocalypse stuff and all that) and the aftermath where you can do anything with it after but I'd really like it if five was being gentle to the reader :<
Sorry this is a long req I hope you write it and it's okay if you dont wanna, thankiee 🫶
Your welkiee! Hope you enjoy. 😊 Lucky Fucking Pillow | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader 3k words, Rated E
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It had been four weeks: four fearful, lonely, miserable weeks. You felt stupid, irritated with him. You hated the fact you were waiting at home for him like the sweetheart of a world war two vet, living on the letters he sent from the front lines. 
You held it together until just before he left, duffel bag over his shoulder.
“The situation’s dangerous; unpredictable. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
On the floors below you, you could hear a bustle of activity as his siblings made similar preparations to leave.
“Why is this your responsibility?”
He looked at you, disbelievingly, the hand not supporting the bag went directly into his pocket.
“This is the world. Am I supposed to sit at home and wait to be subsumed by another apocalypse?”
You shook your head, bringing your knees up to your chest, not able to articulate what you were feeling.
“Let me come with you then.”
He let out an exasperated sigh, picked up the last of his morning coffee and knocked it back, shaking his head. 
“I’m not having this discussion again. I’d want you beside me in anything else, but not in this. If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself. Your best chance of survival is staying well away.”
“What if you die? What am I supposed to do?”
From slight irritation, he softened further. Bending from the waist, he kissed your forehead.
“I love you, okay.”
He crossed to the door, but a strangled sob made him turn back. Your face was suddenly red, tear-streaked. When you spoke, the words tore themselves from a tight throat. 
“Don’t go!” 
He closed his eyes, hand still on the door handle. He let out a breath and dropped the duffel bag, turning back around, crossing the room in two strides and holding you close, your head against his chest.
“I have to, angel. I’m so sorry.”
Since then, your days had been spent scouring the horizon for impending doom and following the news incessantly for any hints of what was going on. Your nights had been spent sleepless, remembering Five’s caresses and trying to get your head around the fact that you and everyone else could die at any moment.
You at least knew he wasn’t dead. He got messages to you sporadically; short dispatches from the field. They appeared mostly via an ancient telegraph machine stowed in Reginald’s old office. The most recent of these hadn’t been very encouraging:
We’ve got a plan, but it’s tenuous. If it doesn’t work, we’ll really be fucked. If that’s the case, then I hope to see you on the other side, -F x
smut below cut
They were four sexless weeks too. You quickly discovered that it takes more than the threat of imminent death to crush the human capacity for horniness. Before that month, you would have thought it would be a deluge of cold water on your libido, but that was far from the case. 
On the contrary, knowing that time could be short, all you could think about was having Five in your arms again: running your hands all over his body, the feeling of his lips on yours and the sensations of his lovemaking. 
As you lay in bed, his phantom was a heavy, intoxicating presence. Your need for him was strong tonight. You rolled to look at his empty side of the bed and imagined his head on the pillow. His eyes (that fickle forest green that masqueraded as blue in some lights and brown in others), you imagined them shaded by his hair. You saw his raised eyebrow, his smile, soft and suggestive, with the dimple that only appeared on one side of his face, recessing two large freckles by his mouth.
You pulled his pillow to you and buried your face in it. It smelled of him. You inhaled it deeply: his aftershave, his antiperspirant, his shampoo, a hint of coffee and something more  indefinable: a more fundamental scent that was all him.
It was this last smell that made your stomach flip, that made you breathe in the scent of the pillow again. It awakened something primal in you: ripples from your center outwards; flutters down each of your limbs. 
Before you knew it, you were stripping off your panties and kneeling up in bed. One hand held his pillow to your face and the other held your own pillow between your legs. When you started to grind, it was him beneath you. In imagination, he was teasing you: not allowing you to get on his dick until you came from humping his leg.
It wasn’t enough friction, so you sped up your hips, snapping them back and forth desperately. There was a whisper of something, a tingle from your neglected pussy, so you chased it, sinking deeper into the fantasy and imagining his hands squeezing your hips, guiding you as you rode him.
“Oh, Five,” you whispered, feeling your body begin to respond, wetness gathering between your labia, “Five, fuck.”
You threw your head back and closed your eyes.
“Hm,” said an approving voice from the doorway, “that lucky fucking pillow.”
You gave a violent start, dropped his pillow and turned around. There he was, framed in the open doorway. You gave a grateful, ecstatic cry.
“Five!” 
In nothing but your t-shirt, you were across the room in a leap and bound and throwing yourself against him, holding him to you with sudden, tight urgency.
He immediately stiffened and let out a sharp groan of pain. You loosened your grip
“Oh my god, what happened? You’re hurt! Are you okay? Is it over? Is everyone okay? Is the world okay?”
He was holding himself stiffly, but now his pain had faded, his face was amused. He leaned forward and kissed your lips. On your side, the kiss was desperate, joy-filled; on his, more passionate. His tongue flicked between your lips before he broke away.
“How about this? l answer each of your questions if, each time, you answer me one in return?” he said, smirking. 
“I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” he said, smiling gently, “but that wasn’t a question.”
You were too happy to see him to have space to be irritated by this game.
“Fine. What happened to you?”
He moved as if to put his bag down on the chair. Seeing his wince, you took it off him and placed it there yourself.
“Thanks. It’s just a wound. There was an explosion. I was hit by a piece of flying steel.”
“Shit,” you whispered, looking down at his chest and the bandages that must be underneath his shirt, “oh my god, are you okay?”
“Hey,” he admonished, “it’s your turn to answer a question now. What were you doing when I came in?”
You looked at him with annoyance.
“You know what I was doing.”
“Yes,” he smirked, “I want to hear you describe it.”
“I was masturbating.”
“How were you masturbating?” he pushed.
“It’s my turn to ask a question now,” you said, using his own tactic against him, “How long will it take to heal? Are you seriously hurt?”
“That was two questions,” he said, stepping towards you, “but I’m feeling generous: I’m not seriously hurt. It’s a flesh wound. It’ll heal nicely.”
You looked at him with concern and he shook his head with a smile. 
“Now it’s my turn: what exactly were you thinking about when you were humping that pillow?”
“You,” you mumbled, “I missed you.”
“What exactly? You didn’t answer properly.”
You feel your face flush.
“I was thinking about fucking you. On top. Riding you.”
Five’s smirk grew, biting his lip and raising his eyebrows suggestively. You hurried on.
“Is the family okay?”
“All present and correct.” he said, moving even closer to you and stroking your hip in gentle circles.
It was a long, long month without you. There was barely time to think, let alone have the privacy for any ‘self care’ sessions of his own. Now that it was all over, his dick was complaining rather vocally about this neglect; insisting that if it didn’t get inside something warm and tight within the next five minutes, it would be most seriously displeased with the rest of him. 
As if to punctuate the point, it was now requisitioning rather a lot of blood from his brain, leaving him rock hard and almost lightheaded with the rush. 
“You’re so horny for me, aren’t you? Humping your pillow like a dirty little girl?”
“Was that a question?”
“Yes.”
You sighed as his hand snaked around to your ass. He stroked one of your buttocks up and down slowly, palm cupping the curve of your skin.
“Then yes: I’m horny for you.”
“How horny?” he said, immediately, squeezing you gently.
“Did you save the world?”
“Are you wet for me?” he said, huskily.
The fingertips of his other hand came to rest on your thigh. His eyes, dark in the low light of the bedroom, captured yours and held them firmly, authoritatively.
“If you’re not going to answer my question, I’ll have to find out for myself.” 
You looked back at him and his lips twitched. Slowly, he walked his middle and index fingers between your legs and parted your labia. He let out a low ‘oh’ as he felt the sopping folds waiting for him.
A jolt twitched down the boner now pressing insistently against the crotch of his pants. 
“How about you ditch the pillow and have a piece of the real thing?”
His fingers slipped slickly up and down your slit and you nodded, trying not to let your knees go weak. Your hands came to the hem of your shirt, pulled it over your head and discarded it so that you were standing naked before him. 
As your breasts bounced free, his befuddled mind could only think how much he’d missed them. He bent forward eagerly to try and take a nipple into his mouth, but froze mid-stoop with a wince and harsh intake of breath.
“Ow. Shit.”
He straightened up slowly, stiffly and leaned against the door, experimentally stretching out his limbs.
“You okay?” you said, worried. 
“I’m fine.” he muttered, hand over his injury, “Got a bad case of hornybrain. Made me forget I was impaled by a steel bar for a hot second there.”
You winced in sympathy and rubbed his clothed stomach in circles. When the pain had abated and he was again looking at you with lust behind his eyes, you leaned in and whispered to him.
“Looks like you’re going to have to stay still and let me do all the work.”
His lips parted but no words came out, for once unable to think of anything cocky to say. You could see the glisten of saliva on his tongue. You smirked and lowered yourself so that you were kneeling in front of him.
He laid his head against the door and exhaled as you deftly freed him of his pants and let them fall to his ankles. He squeezed his eyes closed, thoroughly undone by the mere suggestion of being sucked. He was even hornier than he realized. 
He groaned in a strange mix of satisfaction and need as you licked him through his underwear, using one hand to pull the fabric taught around the thick five and a half inches imprinted there in harsh relief. The stretch and your saliva made the white material semi transparent and you felt a pleasant twist in your stomach as the hint of soft, flushed skin beneath. You lost yourself, aware of nothing but the perfect outline of his glans beneath your tongue and the heady, pheromonal smell of him. 
He made another tight, needy sound as you put your lips around his still-clothed head.
“Please.”
How could you refuse him? Pulling at the elastic and reaching in, you pulled him out to twitch in the open air. It looked painfully hard, as always curving slightly to your left but otherwise sticking straight out like an exclamation point to his arousal.
Slowly, still inhaling that intoxicating scent, you took him into your mouth, slowly sucking him. You hummed appreciatively at his solid, hot skin between your lips. You were in heaven there, happy to keep sucking him as long as he’d let you.
“You don’t know how much I need this,” he said, weakly, knees buckling as you built to a steady rhythm. You paid close attention to his head, enjoying the little pop it made as it left the tight seal of your lips.
He looked down at you with hazy eyes, watching the way your lips pouted as you slid your lips up his length. When you caught his eyes, the pupils suddenly widened and he immediately looked away, head snapping straight back to look up at the ceiling.
“I can’t look at you right now,” he breathed, by way of explanation, “You’re too perfect; I’ll come too fast.”
You flushed, glowing with his praise. Though Five was a loving partner, his compliments were usually hidden beneath layers of self-consciousness and sarcasm. Him saying this now was evidence of how overwhelmed he was: inhibitions swept away in the rush of reunion. 
Slowly, you withdrew and laid your head against his stomach so that his cock rested on your cheek. You looked up at him adoringly, simultaneously enjoying the intensity of his arousal and giving him time to calm down.
“I love you Five.”
“I love you too, baby.” he said, voice breathy and hoarse, “Now, please god, take me to bed and treat me like that pillow.”
You smiled, rose to your feet and led him to the bed, helping him out of the pants around his ankles. Standing by his side of the bed, you kissed his lips gently, enjoying the way his dick stabbed and pressed periodically at your thighs. When you broke apart, you looked into his eyes, at his soft look with his thick eyelashes shading his eyes. 
Aware of his injury, you supported him as he lay down, helping him to ease onto the mattress with the bare minimum of pain. His solid presence in your arms as he let you assist him was bliss.
Though you were being careful not to place any weight where it would hurt him, he pulled you into his arms. 
“Please,” he whispered, “I want you to fuck me. Ride me. Just use me to get off. Use me like a goddamn dildo. I don’t care.  I need you.”
You smirked at this.
“Who are you and what have you done with Five?”
“Please.”
More begging. You didn’t have it in you to tease him, not when you too were desperate to feel his body against yours, to feel him inside you, to mingle your sighs and your pleasure with his.
You slipped him inside you and gasped. The resumption of this perfect coupling alone told you just how much you needed it. You knew you missed it, but now he was inside you again, you realized that it made you whole. His small keen as he slid home was enough to send a fluttering shudder from your center outwards.
“Let me take care of you,” you whispered, leaning close to him.
He nodded, biting his lower lip and caressing your hips.
Slowly, you began to grind against him, rolling your hips with him inside you, moving on top of him just as you did the pillow. This time, it really was Five beneath you, his cock twitching inside you, hitting and charging that sweet spot inside you until it felt like you were buzzing with his electricity.
“Oh fuck,” you moaned, “Five!”
“I-don’t-deserve you,” he panted, “So perfect. Perfect. Beautiful girl…so goddamn sexy. I love you. I-fucking- Ah!”
He always got more talkative yet less coherent the closer he got. He was watching your swinging breasts, hanging a few inches above his face. You leaned forwards immediately, keen to give him what he couldn’t take for himself a few minutes before.
He took the hint eagerly, taking your nipple into his mouth and groaning along with you at the change of angle. He suckled enthusiastically, hungrily; hand leaving your hip to rub your breast with his palm. 
His groans now sent miniature, warm vibrations onto your nipple, creating a new center for charge to build upon. As it crackled down your limbs, stoking the heat in your stomach and groin, you moaned, wanting to ride him hard- ride him like a bike - but you were reluctant to let loose in case you hurt him. 
Instead, you rolled your hips upon him desperately. Judging by the sudden shout from him and the ache from your pussy, this motion was to both of your liking. You were on the edge now, teetering.
“Gonna come. Gonna come.” he whispered, urgently, removing his mouth from your titty with a wet sound.
He meant this to warn you but, instead, his desperate voice gave you the final push.
As you came, your pussy clenched, squeezing him suddenly. His eyes shot open and he all-but squealed at the unexpected stimulation. His hips surged upwards, the pain from his chest eclipsed for the moment by this maddening, raging orgasm. It felt like your pussy was milking it from him, pulling his rapid shots of come up into itself. 
At last, you came to a stop. 
“Is the world safe?” you asked, after a warm breathless minute or two.
“Yes,” he said weakly, “the world’s all okay.”
You carefully climbed off him, laid beside him and held him. There was the fresh smell of his shampoo and antiperspirant. The smell of home if ever there was one.  After a minute or two becoming heavier in your arms, he spoke again.
“Well, the world’s certainly all okay now.”
He stroked your stomach as if you were made of paper-thin glass, inclining his head towards yours as he spoke again.
"I meant what I said: you are perfect, you know."
Request masterlist >> HERE
NOTE:
I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.
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mrsmikaelsxn · 8 months
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Oblivious To Love
masterlist 1k celebration
pairing: five hargreeves x female reader
warnings: fluff, kinda flirting, kissing
summary: five is your boss at the commission, always flirting and hinting that he likes you. you're oblivious to this but then finally admits his feelings - requested by anon
a/n: not to toot my own horn but i think my writing was pretty good in this. thanks so much for requesting for five because i have to write more of him !!
song: i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys
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Five Hargreeves was certainly a character.
He was a decently closed off person. He was always thinking... calculating. Always working to be ten steps ahead of everyone and everything.
He didn't enjoy working at the Commission. He'd rather be enjoying life with his family, and enjoying a decent cup of coffee. For a while when he was there, he was always aggravated at someone or something.
That was until you came.
Or well, until he met you. You've been working there for a few months already.
You're the most stunning person he's ever laid his eyes on. To make things better, he was over the moon when you became his assistant.
You are absolutely lovely. Not to mention, incredible at your job.
You're sweet, smart, and extremely sensible.
Five loved your company. He was always in a good mood when you're around. He often dreamt about you, not to be taken out of context.
He dreamt of a life with you, seeing as how you two are so compatible.
To put the cherry on the sundae, you made the best coffee he's ever had. That says a lot coming from him.
"Good morning, Five," your captivating voice fills his office.
"Morning, gorgeous," he smiles.
He watches as your cheeks turn a light shade of pink. "You have got to stop calling me things like that."
"Nonsense, everything I call you is fitting."
He leans back in his seat and watches your movements as you move towards him. He takes in your outfit and curses the unprofessional thoughts that invade his head.
Today you were dressed in a knee length black skirt, a white button up blouse, and a black blazer.
The blouse had a few buttons undone which gave a glorious view of your cleavage when you lowered yourself to pick a fallen paper off the floor.
However, he considered himself a gentleman, so he looked away.
"Anyway, I was just about to go and make your coffee. Would it be troublesome if I joined you today?"
He stands up from the chair and strolls over to you. He brushes a strand of hair that sways in front of your face. "You're always welcome to join me, doll."
"Great! I'll be right back," you beam and leave.
To say you enjoyed having Five as your boss was an understatement. He was always kind to you, never let anyone say a bad word about you.
You wouldn't deny the fact that he was an attractive young man. The way he called you pet names that had your stomach flutter made you have a sliver of hope that he liked you.
True, pure love.
It's something you've always dreamed about. Reading it in books and seeing it in films gave you a longing to have someone to spend your life with.
After you finished preparing the two coffees, you walk back to Five's office. Your heels make a sound with every step you take.
You open the door and send a soft smile to your boss. "Welcome back, beautiful."
You break eye contact and place his beverage in front of him. "Hi."
He leans his head in his hands as he rests his elbows on his desk and admires you. "How did I get so lucky," he mumbles, not meaning for you to hear it.
You chew the inside of your cheek, "Get lucky with what?" you ask quietly.
He blinks. Then blinks again. "How did I get so lucky with you? When did I do something to deserve you?"
"Oh, um, t-that's very sweet of-"
"Have you ever taken into consideration that there's a deeper reason why I act the way I do with you?"
"Well, not exactly..." you trail off.
"Hm. Did you ever cogitate about how maybe there's a more meaningful explanation to how I behave around you? One besides getting entertainment from witnessing you blush?"
Your mouth opens slightly, and you are at a loss for words. After a moment, your eyes meet his intense ones. You take a breath, "Are you saying..."
He nods once, "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."
"But what about-"
Before you have the chance to finish your sentence, he strides over in front of your chair, puts his hands on each one of the arm rests, and connects his lips softly onto yours.
He felt you freeze for a split second, before you tilted your head upwards to kiss him back easier.
He drowns in the feeling of your lips. The kiss being shared between you two is better than anything he ever could have imagined.
You both taste of coffee, and he loves it.
You pull back and smile shyly as him. He takes a step back and hops onto the desk, so he's now sitting on it and facing you.
He leans his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together. "I hope after that kiss you'll join me for dinner tomorrow night."
You stand up and smooth your skirt. "I would be delighted."
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stiingrayyyy · 2 months
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Dating Headcanons F.H
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What it’s Like to Date Five Hargreeves
Pairings — Five Hargreeves x Reader (pronouns not specified)
Summary — My headcanons for if you were Five’s lover.
Warnings — opinions, no plot, it’s all over the place, last one is semi-NSFW.
A/N — i try to avoid nsfw with five because yk.. in the show, he’s physically thirteen but this one was too funny not to add. let’s all just pretend there was a happy ending okay 😭😭. i wrote this before season four came out so let’s pretend it ended happily.
— if you want another version where it’s just headcanons of you and five in the apocalypse i’m down for that.
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— I see headcanons where Five is straight up mean, manipulative, and where he’s just using you.
— To me, that’s not Five being in love with you. Have you seen how he treats Delores? HE’S SO SWEET TO HER.
— So if you’re his lover, he will give you princess treatment like no other, holy shit.
—He’ll prepare breakfast so it’s ready to be eaten when you wake up.
— He thinks breakfast in bed is a recipe for disaster so he never does that.
— If you take a while to wake up he’ll wake you up.
— “My love, breakfast is ready.” He’ll whisper into your ear before pressing a kiss onto your temple, then one on your forehead, then your nose… then finally a chaste kiss on your lips.
— He’ll tuck you in bed at night and make sure you’re all snug before leaving. If you can’t sleep he’ll read to you.
— With him around, you genuinely never have to open a door. In addition to paying for every meal, he always walks on the outside of the sidewalk. He also pulls the chair out for you when you sit and showers you with praise.
— Sometimes the praise is simple whispers in your ear because he isn’t much into PDA.
— There was never an official wedding, he stole two matching rings and gave one to you.
— He’d like to have an official wedding.
— If he has to worry about the apocalypse he’ll probably neglect you only because he thinks the fate of the world is in his hands.
— He loves going on simple dates, whether it’s at Griddy’s Doughnuts, a simple stroll in the park, or a little painting place.
— He’s fancy but he doesn’t see the point in expensive restaurants. He likes the little things.
— He loves to make and paint pottery with you, it’s his favourite thing to do.
— When he can’t sleep he’ll come over to your place and sit on the roof with you.
— If you fall asleep he’ll Blink into your room and tuck you in, and he’ll even leave a note for you to read when you wake up.
— It usually goes along the lines of..
“You fell asleep, don’t worry I made sure you got back in your room and I picked up all your stuffies from the floor and put them on the bed with you.”
— He struggles with insomnia.
— He’ll write you love letters even though it’s more convenient to send a text. He loves you and he’s willing to put effort in love notes.
— His primary love languages are quality time and acts of service.
— He doesn’t show much affection in public.
— He doesn’t mind holding your hand though.
— Five won’t be afraid to hold your hand, wrap an arm around your shoulders or waist while he’s with his siblings.
— Kisses and hugs are private though.
— Despite being private, he doesn’t hide the fact he’s dating you.
— If anyone tries anything on you, Five will glare daggers. If that’s not enough, he’ll threaten them, and if they keep pushing he’ll make them bleed (but not too severe 🥰)
— He’s hella protective.
— You make midnight munchies together.
— He’ll refuse to dance with you in the kitchen at 2am but he’ll reluctantly say yes and end up actually enjoying it.
— Same goes for dancing in the rain. He pretends to hate it but he loves it and you know he does.
— You always make pasta or noodles for midnight munchies.
— One time you made cookies and accidentally woke up Klaus who ate the cookie dough before you got to put it in the oven.
— When you guys had sex for the first time Klaus congratulated you and Five with a cake that said ‘virgin’ in the middle of a 🚫 and woke you up the next day with confetti.
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— sorry, i know i said i’d have a part three to my ben hargreeves fic but i wrote it and didn’t edit it.. and it didn’t seem entertaining enough to post, i’m sorry.
— if you want headcanons with the apocalypse involved, let me know <3
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retirement [five hargreeves x reader]
a/n: hi guys! it’s been a while hehe, so i hope ull enjoy this short x reader with the one and only five yall know i love sm, homeboy did not disappoint this season neither lmao. season 3 just premiered and i already have finished it:( 
can i just say
WHAT THE ACTUAL FVUCK
either way, id b happy to discuss with yall opinions and such and also feel free to leave requests! 
ill leave warnings at the beginning of each imagine if it shall be the case
i.e. this imagine takes place right in the first episode!!
also, forgive my english, havent really spoken in a while and dont even get me started on the writing 
enjoy besties!
summary: now that the second apocalypse is over, five and y/n can finally retire and maybe finally make their moves?
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“You know, Five... Sometimes I do wish I’d never met you,” You took a sip from your wine, watching as the preteen in question rolled his eyes playfully at you.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a delight as well, Y/N,” He nonchalantly dismissed you, continuing to eat his Chinese takeout.
After surviving not one, but two apocalypses alongside Five Hargreeves and his siblings, you guys wound up back in your timeline, only to find out your trip to the 60s caused some changes in the present, such as Sir Reginald Hargreeves deciding against adopting Luther, Diego, Klaus, Ben, Allison, Viktor and Five, and instead some seven other dickheads with superpowers.
Your encounter was far from pleasant. 
Six months ago you were planning to retire from the Commission, since you were almost sixty and had had your fair share of missions, so you figured one last task with your partner, Five, would be the good way to end things. Well, one thing led to another and instead of taking out JFK, you woke up in 2019, in your preteen body, in an unknown backyard with unknown people, who turned out to be your partner’s siblings.
One thing led to another and you guys bonded over the span of 10 days in an attempt to save the world, but that is a story for another time. 
After those 10 days, you time traveled once again and woke up in 1963, alone, in a school. Some teacher found you and took you in, thinking you were a lost 13 year old girl, but then again, that is a story for another time.
Six months passed until you reunited with the Hargreeves siblings in yet another attempt to save the world.
Two more weeks and you were back in 2019, but things did not go according to plan. 
“Still don’t understand how you two have not banged yet,” Klaus shook his head disappointed, as Diego and Luther couldn’t help but not in agreement.
You tried not to blush, but Klaus’ bluntness always got the best of you. Spending this time with Five on top of being a teen again took a toll on you. You’ve known Five for long before the apocalypse. When the Handler recruited him, she trusted you to be his partner, since you were basically her right hand. The bickering was there even back then, but these past six months you started seeing him with different eyes, in a different light.
“I’d rather choke on chopsticks,” You were quick to deny any indecent thought, “You’re sick, by the way.”
“And you’re sixty, so bye,” Klaus smirked, hopping from his stool.
“Too retired to even bother,” Five shrugged his shoulders, watching as his two other brothers followed Klaus.
“I’m gonna get more food,” Luther lightly shrugged his shoulders, making his way to the buffet.
“I refuse to third wheel 13 year olds,” Diego stated, scratching the back of his neck.
You watched confused as the three men all left the table, leaving you alone with Five, who did not seem bothered at all. 
“I’ll never get used to your brothers,” You shook your head, taking another sip from your wine, “You people are too much.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Five scoffed, watching as you were playing with your glass.
“So, retirement, huh?” You changed the subject, “What are your plans now that the world is safe?”
“I didn’t think much of it, to be honest,” Five shrugged, “Weren’t you supposed to retire after the JFK mission? What did you have in mind?”
You smiled softly, looking at your wine, “I was gonna buy a mansion in Italy, 1970s or so... maybe get a dog and cat, start producing my own wine... I don’t know, I didn’t plan much.”
“Of course there’s a lot of wine in your retirement plans,” Five smirked, as you playfully smacked his arm, “Ow!”
“You’re officially banned from visiting me in Italy,” You stated, biting back a chuckle.
“I wouldn’t have wanted to anyway,” Five lightly shrugged his shoulders, not once dropping his smirk, “Besides- you wouldn’t last a day without me.”
“Excuse you?” You scoffed, placing your hand on top of your chest for a more dramatic effect, “Last I checked, you were the one who dragged me along this whacky adventure.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I knew you’d be devastated at the Commission without me,” He replied with the same cocky air as usual, which made you ponder on the situation.
Is this Five’s way of flirting with you? During the time you spent together ever since operation Doomsday started back in the original timeline of 2019, there may have been a few... interesting moments to say the least. Like when he first opened up to you about being worried sick for his siblings, or when he gave you the tightest embrace after reuniting with you in 1963. There was also that time when you two held hands on your way to meet his father. 
Moments like these that you couldn’t help but cherish with utmost happiness, but not once letting yourself get sidetracked. There was an apocalypse going on, neither of you had time for this.
But now?
Now there’s no apocalypse anymore. Granted, there still are some issues that would be best to fix, but it’s not like they’d bring the end of the world if not.
So, why not?
“If I didn’t know you any better, Five Hargreeves,” You smirked, leaning in closer to the boy, with your glass of wine in one hand, “I’d say you are flirting with me.”
Five shook his head amused, watching you sip your precious wine so close to him. If the wine was intoxicating you, you definitely were the one intoxicating him. It took him some while before he could accept that he had feelings for you, but he couldn’t say either that he was surprised when he realized.
He really felt like you were absolutely perfect, no doubt in his mind. 
“And would that bother you?” Five raised a brow, resting his arm on the back of your chair, leaning in even closer.
“I can’t say it would be unpleasant,” You set down your wine, curious to see where this would go.
“You’re such a tease, Y/N,” Five rolled his eyes, “But... I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
“Will you just kiss me already?” You sighed, watching a genuine smile appear on his lips, as he leaned in, connecting your lips at last.
You cupped his face, melting into the long-awaited kiss. On one hand, you couldn’t believe this was finally happening, and on the other hand, you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. You and Five were finally done with apocalypses, trying to save the world and the Commission. 
You could officially both retire.
“Does this mean I can visit you in Italy?” He whispered, as you two pulled away from the kiss, but still painfully close to one another.
“Ah, who can’t last a day without the other now?” You smirked, pulling him into another kiss.
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parkersbliss · 2 years
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Flustered | F. Hargreeves
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pairing: five hargreeves x fem!reader
wc: 903
warnings: sexual innuendo?
synopsis: ever since five retried, he’s been a lot more affectionate with you
requests: CLOSED
prompts: 043: “Your hands are really soft.” 054: “They have everyone.” “Not you.” “I’m the exception.” 067: “Nice hickey. Where’d you get it?”
“Hi, Luther, Klaus, Diego!” You greet happily. Five doesn’t bother and just pulls out his chair.
“What’s wrong?” Later said through a mouthful of Chinese takeout. “You look happy.”
You come up next to Five, and he pulls a chair out for you, making your cheeks heat up at the small action. “Why can’t he be happy?”
“Well, he’s Five. Always so… bitter.”
You shrug. “They hate everyone.”
“Not you.”
“I’m the exception.”
“I am plenty happy,” Five spoke, taking a seat. “Had a nap and shvitz, what does a man need?”
“Brother’s who don’t eat like barn animals?” Klaus suggests.
Both Diego and Luther look to Klaus, mouths full of noodles, proving his point.
You sit down, smiling at the three brothers. You're dressed in the same thing as Five, a soft bathrobe that says “Hotel Obsidian.”
Klaus grins at you, and you raise a brow. “Nice hickey. Where’d you get it?”
“What?” You practically scream, pulling back the collar of your bathrobe.
Diego snickers, “Seems like Five got a little more than a Shvitz.”
Luther nods. “Yeah, (Y/N) looks like she’s gonna die of embarrassment.”
Klaus claps. “Oh my god, I’m so happy for you two! How was it?”
Five blinked at his brother. “It’s none of your business.”
“Oh, why not? We’re bros!”
Five sighs, looking at you, then back to Klaus. “It was… nice.” You basically die in your seat at his choice of wording. He notices and chuckles, grabbing your hand in his. The three brothers whistle, and you shrink further into your seat.
“Your hands are really soft,” He whispers in your ear.
“Five!” You whine, feeling like you might explode at all the attention and affection. You and Five mostly kept your relationship on the down-low, seeming it was the most concerning issue the past month.
“So I’ve been thinking through our little timeline snafu, and I’m pleased to report that in my professional, expert opinion: we are totally in the clear.”
“Awesome!”
“Huh.”
“Great! So everything’s totally fine?” Luther asked.
“More or less. I mean,” Five hesitates, smiling. “There is one small thing. But it’s nothing we can’t manage.”
Five hands you one of the carry-out boxes, “Choi mein, your favorite.” And you smile softly, mumbling a thanks to him. He just smiles back, “Anytime.” And your stomach flips when he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. You actually think you might die this time.
“So, spit it out, boomer!” Diego mumbles through his noodles.
“Fine, Diego, it’s like this. Dad didn’t adopt us as babies, but those babies still existed here,” Five explained as you take a bite of your own meal.
Klaus frowns. “Awww.”
“We just grew up in different places with different people.”
“So?” Diego questions.
“So where are they now? Odds are we each have identical versions of ourselves walking around out there living completely different lives.”
Luter gasps excitedly. “Our doppelgängers!”
“That’s a made-up word,” Klaus dismisses.
“No, no, I learned all about this in Texas. Tell them about the paranoid psychosis, Five!”
“It’s paradox,” You correct.
“Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa, I thought you said this wasn’t a problem?”
“Okay, yes,” Five admits. “Technically, if you’re near your Doppel for too long, you’ll go insane. So if you ever see your other self—”
“Kill them.”
“Sleep with them.”
“… avoid them."
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Luther asked, giving both his brothers a skeptical look.
“Oh, come on, as if you wouldn’t climb Luther mountain,” Klaus teases. The look on Luther’s face tells you enough about what he’s thinking.
“Wait, how are we supposed to guarantee we don’t cross paths with ourselves?”
“Easy. I mean, we’re the Benetton of superheroes, born all around the world until dad brought us here, which he no longer did. Doppel’s probably aren’t even in the same time zone as us.”
“That’s true,” Luther mumbles.
Diego nods. “Yeah.”
“Would you pass the moo shu?” Five asked, reaching across the table, and Luther does so. Suddenly, Diego leaves in a rush, and you shrug it off.
“So how long have you two been…” Klaus trails off, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Gross, Klaus,” Five said, before adding. “We’ve been together for a while now.”
“Oh, wow,” Klaus sighs. “That’s so cute. I mean, (Y/N) is so sweet, and you’re so… you!”
You giggle at that, and Five rolls his eyes, “Thanks, Klaus.” Five grabs his takeout and a pair of chopsticks before taking your hand and helping you off your seat.
“You didn’t have to do that, Five,” You mumble, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
“I know, darling, but I wanted to,” He replies, and you swear you’re gonna pass out.
Five must notice because he waves his brothers goodbye and leads you back to the hotel room. His hand intertwines with yours, and your face is even hotter now.
“You’re easily flustered, darling,” Five said, opening the door to his room.
“You’re not usually so forward, that’s all,” You shrug.
“Well, I’m retired, so I get to spend the rest of my life loving you.”
You hide your face in your hands at his comment. “Five!”
He chuckles, peeling your hands away carefully. “There you are, pretty girl.” Five cups your face in his hands, pressing a tender kiss to your lips that has you internally screaming.
“The rest of our lives is just gonna be this,” He promises.
“Really?”
“Really.”
— END —
🏷 five taglist: @clearbasementvoid @halfumbrella @esmedith @navs-bhat @alexxavicry @thelaststraw3 @rainbows-r-nice05 @gcldtom @bokuakadaily @3ternalreal1ty @umbrellatte @hahaspoilerhaha @mi1kobitch @analuizafernandescavalcante @icarus-star @yuki1s--note @m4nd0l0r @ells-graveyard @eichenhouseproperty @iaevs @oneirataxia-girl @ay4kshalatus
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badkitty3000 · 2 months
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Weak
Even Five Hargreeves is no stranger to temptation. He tries so hard to stay away. He wants to do the right thing for once in his life. If not for himself, then for her. But every man has his breaking point.
Five Hargreeves x Reader Smut
This one shot is an accompaniment to my other work "Addicted". This can be read on its own, but is a different side of the story, as told from Five's point of view.
As always, I am open to requests. Thank you!
My Master List Of Number Five Fanfiction
Weak:
I never meant to take it this far. I never meant to be cruel. That’s not who I am, or at least I didn’t think I was. I also thought I was strong and had will power. But I guess I was wrong about that, too. Because as much as I try to stay away, I don’t.
I know who I am and what I’m made of. The terrible things I’ve done. That’s not a secret and I’ve never lied to myself about that. My morals can’t even be called a gray area anymore; they’re more like an indistinct blur. But in this one tiny part of my soul, I was trying to be better. For her, at least.
I have failed miserably.
She knows what I am. When things got too comfortable and too familiar, I told her as a way to push her away and to scare her. It didn’t work, though. In fact, it had the opposite effect. She fucking loved it…and I didn’t know how to say no to that.
How could I say no when she was tearing at my clothes, practically panting with desire, and shoving her hand down my pants? All over a bloody stain on a shirt collar and the feel of my Glock against her skin. I’m sure there’s a way to resist that, but fuck if I know what it is. I’m not smart enough or strong enough to figure that one out.
I don’t particularly like all of the killing. But I’m pretty fucking good at it and someone has to do it, I suppose. I certainly never considered it sexy in any way. Then, after that first time, when she begged me to tell her all of the gruesome details, and I watched her skin start to flush and her pupils dilate…well, fuck, that put a new spin on everything.
I still don’t like it, that part hasn’t changed. I get no pleasure from pulling that trigger and watching their skull break open like a fucking pinata, spraying the contents of their brains all over the floor like the world’s worst party game. Now, however, there is a sick little spark that will ignite in me after it’s done. Because I know how it will turn her on.
And, fuck, I am weak.
That’s what this all boils down to. Weakness. For most people that meet me or know me in any way, weak is probably the last word they would use to describe me. Cold; bitter; sarcastic; asshole. Those adjectives are much more likely to be used. But weak? Doubtful.
I know the truth, though. Deep down, that is what I am. Because when you continue to break someone’s heart time and time again, just because you can’t control your own basic urges…that’s weakness. Pure and simple.
She has told me how much I’ve hurt her, and how much I am ruining her life. She has screamed and cried and told me all of the things I know I deserve to hear. She has called me an asshole more times than I can remember, and I have never disputed it. So, I stay away, like I know I should. Until she inevitably calls again. And I slip right back into it without another thought. Like the absolute fucking bastard that I am.
Weak.
Because even though I know it’s wrong and I’m slowly poisoning her with my selfishness, each time I think maybe it will be different. Maybe this time will be the time when I stay. When I will finally be the person I should be and really want to be.
All the way up until the early morning, I will convince myself that this is it. I’ve finally seen the light and I can be the man she deserves; it will be so easy. Because when it’s just the two of us, in our own little cocoon, hidden away from the outside world, the idea is magical. I would give anything to stay there, tucked away, fucking like animals until we’re both too exhausted to talk anymore. I want to stay there and listen to her voice, and her laugh, and feel her hands on my touch-starved body. And I think, yes, this is it. This is what I want.
Then morning comes and the spell is broken.
Once that first peek of dawn starts to light up the sky, all of my anxieties come rushing back, and I remember why I can’t stay. Morning brings back the real world, and with it all of its problems.
I will freeze up, practically paralyzed with fear, as she sleeps next to me, an arm draped over my chest. I will remember what kind of person I really am, and how that just doesn’t translate to boyfriend material. And it’s not just the little fact that I am a hired assassin, although that does put a slight snag in any future meetings with parents and the like.
It’s the mixing bowl of fucked up thoughts and feelings and history that lives inside my brain. Guilt. Regret. Sadness. Rage. Take your pick, none of them are great. And I can mask them for a night or two, while I’m pretending to be someone I’m not. But they will come back again, and that’s just not something anyone needs. Especially someone you care about.
So, I do the worst, shittiest thing in the world, and leave while she’s asleep. No kiss goodbye. No note. Not even a quick morning fuck. I grab my shit and leave in a flash of blue light, like the weak coward I am. Can’t even bother to use the god damn door.
I will stay away after that. At least for a while. I will ignore the incoming texts and voice mails that sometimes will follow, and sometimes don’t. I’ll pretend I don’t care about the lectures and pleas and rightly-deserved insults. But I do care. And that’s why I won’t answer.
A month might go past, maybe more. Just enough time for me to start thinking she really is done with me. Then the call will come through, late at night, and I won’t ignore it. Because, as we’ve determined…I am weak.
She is the only one, although I’ve never told her that and I bet she thinks she’s not. I’m not interested in anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. And when she stops calling for good, which one day I know will happen, that will be it. It’s either her or nobody. And it’s barely even her.
Our paths almost never cross outside of our little midnight meetings. After that first night when all of this started, I’ve never seen her anywhere else besides her apartment. I assume it’s because the types of bars and clubs I frequent are not anywhere a normal, sane person would want to spend their free evenings. But tonight, as fate would have it, I do see her. After I grab my drink off the cracked and peeling bar top and turn to look at the room behind me, I see her. And she’s not alone.
With my glass half way to my mouth, our eyes meet, and for a second neither of us move. It’s not a big place, so we aren’t that far away from one another. But it’s loud and crowded, and the guy is leaning in close to her ear, talking loudly to be heard over the constant bass thumping through the shitty speakers on the walls. Who the fuck is this guy?
It’s not fair, I know that. Believe me, I know that. And I try to give myself a stern talking-to inside my head. She is not yours. Not even remotely. You are an asshole and she deserves better. Leave her the fuck alone.
I take a drink. And then I see his hand disappear under the table, and I can see everything from where I’m standing. He’s squeezing her thigh, leaving his hand there to rest on her leg, rubbing his thumb across the bare skin that isn’t covered by her short skirt. A skirt I know I’ve had my face under before.
Fuck. I hate this guy.
In the thirty seconds that it takes for all of this to happen, she is watching me. Reading me. A faint smile plays on her lips and I know I’m caught. My thoughts must be written all over my face like a fucking billboard, and it’s too late to pretend I haven’t seen or that I don’t care. She’s got me.
If I were stronger, or a better person, I would leave. Pay my tab, collect my coat, and get the fuck out of there without another glance in her direction. Leave her be. Let her live her fucking life. But I am not. And I’m pissed.
My first instinct is to reach behind me, grab the Glock that’s hidden in the waistband of my pants and covered up by my suit jacket, and take care of this asshole right then and there. That would probably be the nicer thing to do, honestly. Then she’d finally see what a fucking psycho I am and that would end things once and for all. But I’m also not that stupid. Or that nice.
Instead, I stay and watch. I let her see me watching, too. I lean with my back against the bar, casually sipping my drink, and my eyes never leave her. I want her to know, even if it makes me more of a giant dick than I already am. I want her to know I am not pleased.
I have no idea who this guy is, and I don’t care. Maybe it’s their first date; maybe it’s their tenth. It doesn’t matter, I want him dead. And now that she knows that, because it’s pretty fucking obvious by the way I’m coiled like a cobra ready to strike right now, it’s quickly become a game. If she had feelings for him before, that seems to have been forgotten now. Because everything she is doing is for me.
Her eyes leave mine and she returns to what I can only imagine is a very dull conversation with the Neanderthal sitting next to her. She smiles and laughs, and moves her leg closer to his so that they are touching. She reaches up and fixes his hair, tucking a stray piece of it over his ear. She rests her chin on her hand and stares at him like he’s the most interesting person she’s ever encountered. And he’s eating this shit up; kicking his game up a notch with even more inane talk and rubbing her thigh up and down with his whole hand. He thinks she’s into him. Fucking dumbass.
That’s the only thing keeping me slightly calm at the moment. Knowing it’s all a play. She is a really good actress, I’ll give her that, but I’ve paid more attention to her than she realizes. I know her tells. I know the difference between her fake laugh and her real one. I can tell when she’s actively engaged in the conversation or she is just waiting for you to shut up. I know how she touches her face when she’s nervous and I know what she looks like when she wants to fuck you.
And, buddy…I got bad news for you.
The corner of my mouth lifts in an arrogant smirk as I take another drink. I shouldn’t be proud of this; I should be appalled. How dare I think I have any right to any of her little traits and quirks? I haven’t earned that. That kind of thing is reserved for boyfriends and husbands and people that can stand to stick around for more than a few hours.
When she runs her tongue over her lips in an obvious gesture meant only for me, I actually laugh out loud. Fuck, she knows what she’s doing. And it’s one hundred percent working.
As I order my second drink, feeling the calming buzz of the booze fill my brain, I start to care less and less. I don’t care if this is not fair. I don’t care that I’m being a complete and utter shit head. I don’t care if I’m weak. I’ll deal with all of that later.
I take out my phone and type out a quick text.
Enjoying yourself?
I watch as she glances to her phone on the table as it lights up. She picks it up, angling it away from Caveman Cliff, and reads it. It’s subtle, but I saw it. A brief twitch of her mouth and a quick flit of her eyes in my direction. I see her type out a quick reply and then she is back to him, completely enrapt in his droning.
Immensely, thank you
Not able to resist, I counter with:
Even I can tell from way over here that your panties are as dry as the desert
She holds in a smile as she responds back.
Too bad you’re not going to find out
Honey, if that pussy of yours is even slightly wet, it’s only because you’re thinking of me bending you over that table you’re sitting at right now
I see her legs shift and she crosses one over the other, squeezing them together as a faint blush covers her cheeks.
And why would I be thinking that?
Because that dipshit you’re with isn’t going to give you what I know you want
I watch as she swallows and then glances at the idiot to her left that is oblivious to all of this, the poor bastard. Her response is short.
Fuck you
She puts her phone away to end this exchange, but I see the small smile she is trying to hide and the way she touches her hand to her face. I can see her chest expand as she sucks in a deep breath, biting at the inside of her cheek.
I give a short snort of satisfaction and put my phone back in my inside jacket pocket. I got what I wanted. I throw back the rest of my drink, leave a few dollars for a tip, and head for the door without another look in her direction. But I know she saw me leave.
As I wait there in the dark, I think about how awful I’m being; what a shit bag move this is. I’m using her, that’s what it boils down to. Using her for her warmth and her openness, and to temporarily calm my mind. Also, for her body and her touch. She sees something in me that isn’t there; or at least something I can’t see. But I can’t or won’t give her what she needs, and I’m also not letting her move on.
Fuck, I’m an asshole.
I hear their voices coming down the hall, the rattle of keys in her hand. As they near the door, I can hear her made up excuses. She’s tired; she had too much to drink; she has a headache. Maybe next time. She’ll call him tomorrow. Then she slips inside her darkened apartment and the door closes behind her.
I’m on her before she has a chance to turn the light on, pressing her against the door as she drops her keys on the floor. Since I’ve been waiting, the anticipation has already made me fully hard and I push my groin into her while I circle my hand lightly around her neck.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? No love connection tonight?” I growl next to her ear.
She never even screams or fights back. She knew I would be there. But her hands grab my forearm and I hear her suck in a loud breath.
“I never knew you were the jealous type,” she smarts back.
 “Only when I see someone try to take what’s mine,” I hiss hotly against her neck, drawing my lips and then my tongue across her skin.
“I’m not your fucking property,” she snarls, but I can hear the break in her voice and she swallows hard against my hand.
I laugh cynically. “Well, then I can go and you can let him fuck you instead. Is that what you want?”
There’s a long pause and it’s just our loud breathing in the dark of the room. Then I feel her head move slowly from side to side.
“No,” she whispers.
As I crash my mouth onto hers, my hands in her hair and on her face, and down to her tits, she is reaching for the front of my pants. I had already removed my jacket and belt when I got there, as well as the pistol that I always carry with me. Our little act back at the bar was already enough foreplay and our bodies are screaming for each other.
Our hands can’t work fast enough as she is shoving my pants down my legs and tearing my shirt open while I rip her top off and yank her skirt up. My fingers are already pushing her panties to the side and entering her, sliding right in with no resistance.
I smile proudly against her neck. “I knew you were wet for me.”
As she moans and throws her head back, she is reaching down to stroke my cock, her warm hand tight and firm as she drags it slowly over my shaft.
My hips are already jerking into her and I want to be inside of her so badly I can’t think straight.
“Get these panties off so I can fuck you,” I snarl.
I pull my fingers out, pushing her underwear down roughly and she quickly steps out of them. With one pull of her hips into me, her arms clutching tightly to my shoulders, I lift her up and start fucking her against the door.
I tip my head back and groan loudly as she whines and pulls her legs tighter around my waist.
“Can he make you feel this good?” I ask between clenched teeth as I ram into her harder and the door rattles in its frame.
“No!” she cries out.
“Do you think about him when you’re alone and fingering yourself?”
Her moans are punctuated by the slamming of my body against hers and her fingers press deeper into my skin.
“No,” she breathes out. “No.”
“You think about me, don’t you?” I say with a sneer. When she doesn’t answer fast enough, I ask again, louder. “Don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whimpers pitifully, her nails digging sharply into my shoulder blades.
I can’t believe what I’m saying and what I’m doing. But she’s loving it and so I continue.
“I’m going to fuck you until you forget all about him, and then I’m going to fuck you some more. And if I ever see you with him again, I will kill him.”
“You wanted to kill him, didn’t you?” she asks, and that knowing smile starts to form as she closes her eyes and bites her lip. “When you saw him with me?”
“Fuck yes I did,” I groan loudly into her neck.
She’s almost there, I can tell. So am I, but I’m going to make her finish first. I pick up the pace, thrusting into her as hard as I can, her back and head slamming against the door, my fingers digging deeper into the flesh of her thighs and ass. I’m practically ripping into the side of her neck, latching on with my mouth and teeth, desperate to mark her as my own.
I listen as she repeats my name over and over in gasps and moans and I can’t hold back anymore.
“That’s it, sweetheart. You are all mine.”
She is falling apart in my arms, violently shaking against me as I penetrate her one last time, letting out a loud, guttural moan. I’m as deep inside of her as I can be, and I fill her up with so much cum, I know it will start sliding out; dripping down her legs and onto the floor. Somewhere deep inside, in the primordial part of my brain, I take satisfaction in knowing that it’s my seed, and only mine, that is coating her insides.
Once the last spasm has left my body, I let her down and she falls back against the door, breathing hard. Her bra is still on, but the straps have fallen down, and her skirt is bunched up around her waist. I look at the painful looking purple bruise I left on her neck, which is large enough and obvious enough that she won’t be able to cover it. Her eye makeup is smeared and her lips are swollen and red. She looks completely ravished. And then she starts to cry.
It’s because of me, I know it is. Because of the things I said and the things I did, and the way I needed her so desperately. She had been trying to break away from me and I reeled her back in. And I did it knowingly and deliberately, just to feed my ego and maybe not feel so alone. I could have found anyone for that. But, like the prick I am, I only wanted her.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, my lungs still working hard to get air in and out.
She just nods silently, wiping her face with her hand, and pulls down her skirt. She picks her shirt and underwear off the floor and heads to the bathroom without a word. I’m left standing there with a softening dick and my pants around my ankles.
Fuck.
I could leave now, while she’s in there, and maybe I should. That feels wrong, though. But then again, so does staying. I feel like shit and I’m so full of shame that I want to punch my fist through the wall. Instead, I zip my pants back up and walk over to her couch to wait. I turn on the table lamp and even though it’s dim, it feels blaringly bright and I have to squint my eyes.
When she comes out, she has changed into some soft shorts and a t-shirt. Her face is cleaned up and I assume her thighs and the area between them are too. She is no longer crying, but I can still see the tell-tale signs of red-rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks. I’m surprised when she comes and sits down next to me, laying her head on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, because I can’t think of anything better to say.
“I know. Me too,” she says and she leans her body against mine.
She has nothing to be sorry for and I’m not sure what to do, so I put my arm around her and hug her to me. I kiss her forehead and she closes her eyes. I don’t know why she’s letting me do this, but it feels good and I like it. Just like every other time, I tell myself that maybe this time will be different. I can do this; I can be that person. I don’t want to be that other jealous, callous, hurtful person. I don’t want to be the asshole.
“Just don’t go yet, ok?” she says quietly with her cheek resting against my chest.
I smooth her hair and run my hand down her back. I don’t want to go. She feels good and warm and soft against my tension-filled body. She feels right. I want to tell her all of that, too. I want to say I’m sorry a million times over and beg for her forgiveness. I want to wake up with her next to me every day.
“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” I murmur into her hair as I brush my chin across the top of her head.
“Don’t do that,” she pleads, her voice soft. “Please.”
I decide I’m going to tell her how I really feel. Before the night is over, I’ll come clean. And then I’ll stay. If she’ll still have me.
“You are, though. I mean it.”
She doesn’t respond, but sighs and nestles in, holding me around my waist. Fuck, I have craved this. More than the dirty talk and the biting and the ferocious fucking. I want this. I want her. And I’m going to tell her.
The rest of the night goes by in a blur. It’s there, on the tip of my tongue the whole time. All I have to do is say it. But I don’t.
We fuck again, rough and hard, on the couch and on the floor. I leave more marks on her chest, branding her as my own. I tell her she’s mine, and I make her scream my name again, but I don’t say what I really mean.
We fuck in her bed, while we’re both tired and slightly drunk. I pump lazily into her while she lies underneath me and moans softly. I kiss her lips and tell her how gorgeous she is, and it’s not a lie because she is. I worship her body, running my tongue over every part of it, tasting her skin and her delicious arousal. I can taste my own cum as I lick into her soft folds and inside her pussy that’s been stretched and abused by my cock several times over.
There are so many opportunities and I don’t take any of them. I let her fold her body into mine as I hold her in the dark and I can say it right now. It would be easy and it would be the truth.
I want to be with you.
I want to be yours.
I want you to be mine and mine alone.
I want to stay.
But I am weak, and so I don’t.
She sleeps against me and I listen to her rhythmic breathing while I lie there wide awake. I think about all of the things I should have said. Everything I should have done and should not have done. I hate myself for all of it.
When the sun creeps in, and the faintest light is leaking through the curtains and cutting through the safety of the darkness, it all comes crashing back. I remember why I can’t stay and why those words just wouldn’t come out. The reality of the real world is glaringly obvious in the light of day and I remember all of it.
The real world is filled with everyday things like jobs and homes and bills to pay. Coworkers and families that want to meet you. Graduation and birthday parties. Movie and dinner dates, holidays and vacations. Marriage. Children. Normalcy.
There’s just no way any of that would work. I can’t fit into that life, even though I want to. I think of all of the things holding me back and they keep piling up until they are crushing me and I feel like I can’t breathe.
I am an assassin. A killer. A murderer. I have seen the end of the world and survived the most horrific things. I have PTSD and crippling anxiety. There are nightmares and paranoia and episodes of manic rage. I am old and I am tired. There is nothing left of me and nothing left to give. I am not meant for normalcy.
As I slowly remove her arm from across my chest, she stirs but she doesn’t wake. I take a moment to look at her. Her mind isn’t betraying her with vivid dreams of the world collapsing around her in a fiery blaze or sprays of bullets piercing her body. She is at peace and I am envious of that.
I am not good for her, I know that. I need to go and stay gone. She deserves stability and happiness and a million other things I cannot give her. So, I will be the asshole that leaves in the morning before she wakes, just like I always do. She will hate me and curse me and cry for me. And I will stay away this time. I have to.
I chance it by leaning in and brushing my lips across her forehead. Her face wrinkles up and then relaxes again, but she doesn’t wake. I slip out of the bed and out of the room, following the trail of discarded clothes and put them back on one by one. Then I am gone in the same flash of light that allowed me to enter there in the first place. A convenient exit that I have misused way too many times.
Outside, the sun is bright and the world is waking up. I can feel my resolve growing stronger as the new day builds. That was it, I am done. It was awful and I shouldn’t have done it, but it’s over now and I will not be repeating it. I am a pillar of inner strength. That was the last time and she is finally free of me. I am doing the right thing.
My strength is impressive, both inside and out. But it is not impenetrable, especially when darkness falls and the world around me grows quiet. When I am alone with nothing but my thoughts, and I just need to feel something good again.
Everyone has a weakness.   
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thebearmage · 1 year
Text
One Mistake (is all it takes)
Five Hargreeves x GN!Reader
Summary: When Five's harsh words and temper causes Y/N to run head-first into danger, the man learns the hard way that words can sometimes be more deadly than actions.
Warnings: Angst, HEAVY angst, blood, violence, Five being sad
MASTERLIST
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It had been a hard day.
You and Five were working hard, trying to think of any and everything that could stop the apocalypse.
Five was standing on his, scribbling numbers onto the walls messily. You sat at his desk chair, reading over a few papers.
You are smarter than most, which is something Five admired, so, even though he's only explained the math a few times, you mostly understood what he was trying to do.
"What about this equation?" you say, gesturing to a line on the page you were holding, "It doesn't look right,"
"No, that one's fine," Five says, scratching his neck.
You sigh, "Sorry, I'm still wrapping my mind around all this. I honestly think we're going about this in the wrong way,"
Five stops and slowly turns to you with an incredulous look, "Wrong way?" he hisses, "We're trying to save the world, Y/N! What don't you understand?"
"I understand your reasoning, Five, I really do. But I fail to see how killing this random ass person might stop the apocalypse!"
Five blinks, before scoffing, "I really thought you understood this! That you were smarter than this!"
You sigh, trying to ignore Five's heated tone, "I do understand, I'm just trying to help,"
"Well, you're doing a lousy job!" Five snaps, "I only ask one thing of you, Y/N! Did I ask you to battle a monster? No! Climb a mountain? No! I only ask one simple thing and you can't even do that!"
Your eyes widen and fill with tears. Five doesn't seem to notice, he turns away and throws his hands into the air, "Of course, what did I expect! Messing up is all you can do! I mean, honestly, how can you possibly be this useless!?"
You gasp softly, tears finally running down your face. Five doesn't turn to look at you, shaking his head and mumbling angrily.
You put the papers down and leave, not bothering to look behind you. You rush down the steps of the Academy, ignoring the way Allison calls out for you, or how Luther asks what's wrong. You flee the building, out into the cold pouring rain and you start to run home.
You fail to notice the two assassins following you.
Cha-Cha and Hazel had failed to kill Five, so they were given a new objective; Kill Y/N L/N. You were special, even if you didn't know it yet. You were a key factor in stopping doomsday.
Five spent the rest of the day rattling his brain for any ideas. Luther had convinced blackmailed him into not killing anyone, so he had to come up with a new plan.
He had seen you storm off. He knew his words were harsh and maybe unnecessary but his frustration was getting the better of him. He also knew he needed your help. None of his siblings seemed to understand, but you did. You always did.
Sighing, he blinks to your apartment building. Putting a hand into his pocket, he knocks on the door.
"Hey! Anyone there? It's Five! I need to speak with Y/N!"
Nothing. Five blinks, eyebrows furrowed. He clicks a few buttons to be buzzed in, "Hello!?"
Nothing again. Five runs a hand through his hair and curses under his breath, "Fuck it,"
He smashes the window and unlocks the door from the inside, "Hel--"
His greeting dies in his throat. All over the lobby was blood. On the floors and walls, everywhere. All he could see was blood.
Five gasps, horrified. There were clear signs of a struggle; dents in the wall, broken decorations, pictures scattered on the floor. There was even a body in the hallway.
"H-Hello?" Five slowly takes a step inside, body slightly shaking. He's felt fear before. He's lost people before. But this...this terror...this was pure raw panic, overwhelming his body and mind. He wanted...no needed you to be okay. His voice shakes, "Y-Y/N!? I'm here! Are you there!?"
Suddenly, there's a shadow behind Five and he whips around. It's Cha-Cha, with a knife.
"No!" Five thinks, panic turning into fury as he ready for the fight, "Not until I find them!!!!"
———————❖———————
Cha-Cha lies dead on the ground. Her own knife plunged deep into her chest. Five pants heavily, eyes wild as he slowly gets up off the body.
He turns and runs deeper into the building. There was no sign of Hazel or the team's briefcase.
"Coward must've taken it and run off," Five spits, before turning back to the task at hand.
Five climbs the steps to your floor, counting the bodies as he goes.
...9
...12
...17
Second floor, more bodies.
...23
...25
...32
He finally reaches your floor, feet pounding down the hallway to your door.
"32 people dead. They didn't want any witnesses, they wanted them all gone!"
He finally reaches your door, dread pooling into his already queasy gut when he sees it open...kicked open.
"Y/N? Answer me!" He calls, running to the doorway. He freezes when he sees your apartment. It's worse than the lobby.
"Y/N!! I chased them away!" Five calls desperately, "So please answer me!"
He rushes into the room, looking around wildly. When he finally rounded a corner to the hallway, his heart stops.
"N-no,"
You were lying on the floor, covered in blood, a pool of it under your prone body.
"Y/N!!!"
Five runs over to you, dropping to his knees next to you, "Hey! Hey! You're okay! It's me! It's Five, hey!"
You slowly blink open your heavy eyelids, "...Five?"
"Yes, it's me!" Five gasps as he pulls your body into his arms, blood soaking his clothes.
You were bleeding out, he needed to get you to a hospital, or the Academy.
"Hold on!" he tucks you into his arms and goes to blink.
Nothing happens.
Five's eyes widen in horror, "No..." he tries again, "No, no, no!"
The fight. It had drained him too much. He was already stressed and that messed with his powers too.
"Nonononononono!"
Five presses his hands to the wound, "Come on! Please!"
Someone from the upper level hears his cries and comes down, gasping in horror when they see you.
"Call 911!" Five screeches at them, "Call anyone! Please!"
The person rushes away, and Five turns back to you. You cough weakly and grab his arm.
"...Five..."
"Save your strength!" Five barks, "Stay with me!"
"...Five..." you try again, "...hey..."
Five turns to you, and you are shocked to see tears running down his face, "What?"
"...don't blame yourself..." you whisper, "...okay? For me?"
Five sobs, "No! Don't say that! You're going to live!"
You smile brokenly, "And here I thought you were smarter than that,"
Five turns his head as he hears sirens, and he smiles hopefully.
"They're coming!" he shouts, "They're coming! You're going to be okay! You're going to be-"
He cuts himself off when he looks down at you. Your eyes are closed and your hand has gone limp on his arm.
"Y/N?" He shakes you slightly, then harder when you don't respond, "Y/N!"
You don't move. Five's breathing becomes ragged as more tears spring to his eyes.
"...No..." he chokes out. A shaking hand slowly pushes some hair away from your face, "No, please,"
Five pulls you to him, tucking you under his chin as he rocks back and forth, "My...baby...my...my..." Five buries his face into your hair. His entire body shook with his sobs. His wails of agony could be heard floors both above and below.
"Don't leave!!!" He howls, "Don't leave me alone!!! Don't leave me alone!" he turns to the doorway, "Someone help!!!"
Five lets your body drop to the floor so he can bury his face in your chest, holding you close, "Don't leave me!! I can't lose you!! Please! Open your eyes! Stay with me!!!"
Five could hear footsteps. He looks at you, his face twisted, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"
Hands grab onto Five and start to pull him away from you, he kicks and screams.
"NO! NO! LET ME GO!"
Paramedics rush over to you as the person drags Five further away,
"NO! I CAN'T LEAVE THEM! LET ME GO!"
"Shhhh," A voice gently shushes Five, it's Diego, "It's okay, it's okay! The paramedics are going to help Y/N, it's going to be okay,"
Five could hear the pain in Diego's voice, and Five can only watch as your limp form is carried away.
———————❖———————
Is everyone okay? Here! *Hands you all a box of tissues* There will be a part two, I promise! Also, requests are open! So if you have a request, you can send 'em to me!
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nickeverdeen · 3 months
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how about five x reader when the reader accidently confesses feelings? Please and thank you!
Acidentally confessing your feelings to Five Hargreeves
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TW: gunshot injury, mention of getting shot, reader taking care of a gunshot wound
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The aftermath of the mission cast a subdued ambiance over the Umbrella Academy. Five Hargreeves, despite his usual uncanny ability to navigate danger unscathed, bore a minor wound—a gunshot graze on his shoulder. The living room, once a battleground, now transformed into a makeshift infirmary.
Y/N, a mixture of relief and worry evident in their eyes, found themselves tending to Five's injury. The air held a tangible tension, the near miss of danger lingering in the room.
As they delicately cleaned the wound, Y/N couldn't help but let their guard down, "You know, Five, for someone who can time travel, you sure have a knack for attracting trouble in the present."
Five, typically stoic, winced at the sting of disinfectant but couldn't suppress a smirk. "I like to keep things interesting."
With the task at hand, the Y/N's thoughts became a tempest of emotions. The sight of Five, vulnerable yet resilient, stirred something profound within them. It was in that charged moment, amid the quiet echoes of the mission's aftermath, that words slipped out before they could be reined in.
"You're infuriating, you know that?" Y/N muttered, their tone a blend of exasperation and affection. "Getting yourself shot and making me worry like that."
Five, more accustomed to trading barbs than receiving concern, raised an eyebrow. "I assure you, it's not on my list of preferred activities."
As Y/N carefully bandaged the wound, they sighed, their gaze meeting Five's. "You have this way of making me care, Five. More than I ever planned to. I mean, who would've thought?"
The admission hung in the air, laden with a vulnerability that transcended the typical banter between the Hargreeves siblings. Five, though adept at masking his emotions, seemed momentarily caught off guard.
A beat of silence passed before Five quipped, "Well, it seems I'm not the only one who can make things interesting."
The room, steeped in a quiet understanding, bore witness to a confession that wasn't grandiose or cliché but was instead woven into the fabric of their shared moments—a revelation that unfolded amidst the aftermath of danger, a gunshot graze, and the quiet acknowledgment of something deeper.
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asteriismos · 2 years
Text
cherry waves - ben hargreeves
PAIRING ◆ sparrow!ben hargreeves x umbrella!reader
WARNING(S) ◆ SMUT, rough sex, choking, DIRTY TALK, unedited, piv sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (fem receiving), byeLOL
SUMMARY ◆ you come to terms with the new ben.
WORDS ◆ 4.6k
NOTE ◆ … lolllllll!!!!!!! there's no ben smut out there so (insert thanos meme) fine, i'll do it myself.
The Ben that you had fallen in love with when you were younger has been dead for almost fifteen years . . . you had to keep telling yourself that. Getting over his death was one of the hardest things that you had ever done, because his loss was the first one that you had ever experienced at the ripe age of seventeen years old. You weren’t even an adult and yet, you were faced with the tragedy of your first love being killed and you had to face that realization every day for the rest of your life. You remembered the day like it was yesterday, and although it had been over a decade since it happened, there were some times where you would wake up in the middle of the night, sweat covering your entire body and gasping for air because of the nightmares you endured. You weren’t there to witness his death, but the tragedy was all the same. In your nightmares he was ripped away from you without a goodbye. 
You finally started to forget about the trauma when you were in Dallas, as there seemed to be no way to get back to the future and for the life that you had back in 2019. You even met some other people, though nothing came to fruition like your relationship with Ben did. With him it felt so natural to be in love and with everyone else you felt like you were going through the motions. Instead you grew your relationships with your friends and that managed to take your mind off of him. 
And you thought that this mess was done once you made it back to 2019. Everything seemed fine until you and The Umbrella Academy came face to face with Reginald, who was explaining that your home wasn’t your home anymore . . . or it never was. You were confused as hell on what had happened due to time travel. Noises were heard from the top of the balcony and you and your family turned around, revealing a whole set of other people just like you and some weird floating cube. 
And just as you thought things couldn’t get any more weird, you heard footsteps to your left and saw none other than Ben Hargreeves, more alive than you could remember him being. 
Dad, who the hell are these assholes?
That voice was still ringing in your head as clear as day, because to be honest, you couldn’t remember much from the encounter. You took one look at your deceased past lover who was no longer dead and started to shake, the familiar feeling of being hopeless came back to you and you passed out. Five would later tell you that he caught you and was able to get you out of the house before people started to fight, and it wasn’t until five hours later that you woke up. In this timeline, he’s still alive, Y/N, He would say to you when you finally came to, in some hotel room that your family booked. He’s not the same Ben that you fell in love with. He’s different.
And for a few hours you believed that, you tried to join your family in getting on with their lives and planning for their future, but you couldn’t get your mind off of Ben. Because in a way, he was the same person that you fell in love with. Your curiosity got the best of you and like always, led you to do some questionable things – because why would life ever be simple for you?
Your curiosity led you to the doorstep of The Sparrow Academy, knocking on the door and waiting for someone to answer it, not entirely sure that what you were doing is what you should actually be doing. You heard that there was a fight here and although you didn’t get too much information from your siblings, you were sure that there was still bad blood between the two families. The person to answer the door was a brunette woman, who stood a little bit taller than you and gave you a soft smile, turning to look behind and closed the door behind herself, coming out onto the sidewalk with you. She looked a little nervous that you were here, but didn’t look like she had any ill will against you. 
“You’re the one that passed out. I’m Sloane.” 
Great. You’re glad that was the reputation they all had of you. How embarrassing. 
“I don’t normally do that,” You said. “There’s just someone here that reminds me of someone I used to know.”
Sloane looked confused for a second, her features scrunching up in thought before they softened, as if she realized who you were talking about. “Ben said something about your family giving him weird looks. And you passed out right after you saw him . . . How do you know him?” 
“Ben was . . . Well, Ben was in our timeline too. I knew him from then but he died almost fifteen years ago. It was . . .” You trailed off, not knowing the right words to use. You were notorious for never talking about it, which was not good for your healing as you’ve heard, but it was always too painful to think about. “It was traumatic for all of us.” 
“You loved him.” 
Was it that easy to see? Maybe what gave it away was your pained expression at the mere thought of his death, or that you could barely say his name above a whisper. The more you stood in front of her the more you wanted to run away, thinking that this was a bad decision and that you should’ve listened to your family and stayed the hell away from here. But you couldn’t just leave now, and soon enough Sloane was inviting you in and telling you which door led to Ben’s room, and soon enough you were knocking on the door. 
You heard a groan, and a small come in and for a moment you hesitated, thinking that you would be saddened by the fact that the new Ben wasn’t the same one. But you just needed to see him, even if it was just for a moment. You opened the door and closed it, coming face to face with someone who looked the same as your lover, smelled the same as your lover, and even stood the same as him too, but it wasn’t him. It was someone else. 
“Did you come in to discuss something about your family, or are you just trying to get your hands on one of us since you didn’t get a piece of the action earlier?” Ben asked, his tone condescending and nothing like how you remembered it being. “As I recall, your little twitchy brother zapped you out of the house before things got exciting.” You shook your head, taking a step back as he took a step forward. You were silent, still eyes wide at the sight of him. The only thing that was different about his appearance was the visible scar on his face and the slightly tight fitting shirts that Ben never wore before. 
You opened your mouth to say, “I just wanted to see if it was really you.” 
“What do you mean, really me?” He asked. 
“It’s a long story. But the Ben that I knew died so long ago, and I loved him so much. Seeing you down there earlier today just brought all of it back. I never thought that I would see you again . . . But it’s not you. Or at least the one that I knew from my timeline,” You explained. 
“You were in love with me?” He asked. It was a strange concept to him. No one had ever loved him, not enough to pass out due to the thought of him, not enough to risk their life to come to his doorstep after their whole family had engaged in a fight that almost killed them. You were gorgeous enough as it is, and now you were telling him that you loved him. In some ways that made him feel a twinge of emotion towards you, and it made him extend his hand out forward. You flinched for a moment at his touch, but allowed it once you felt his fingertips on your arm. Closing your eyes, for a moment it felt like you were seventeen again and Ben was still here. 
And you opened your eyes and Ben was there, those eyes that you remembered. 
“Did he feel like this?” Ben asked you, his hand not leaving your arm. You nodded, reaching and grabbing the hand with your own. Just like how it used to be. Ben didn’t know why he was doing this, but it felt as if something in the universe was telling him to do it, like it was right somehow. Like you and him were meant to get together. It was all happening so fast. 
In a moment of either pure hope or total idiocy, you stood on your tippy toes and kissed him. It was a short kiss, similar to the ones you two had shared before in your past. Clumsy even, noses brushing against one another as you pulled away a tiny bit to get a look at him. His eyes met yours and he leaned in again, not testing the waters like you had. He knew what he wanted and you were shamelessly going to give it to him, no questions asked. Ben’s hands reached down to the small of your back, pulling you into him and not letting go.
The kiss was greedy, taking all that you could of one another, you still standing on your tippy toes and steering out of balance when your chest hit his own. He kept you up though, your legs turning into jelly when he released his lips from your own and indulged in the crook of your neck. It was hot and sloppy, swollen lips trailing from your neck to your jaw and down the other side, a row of saliva glistening on your skin. Your body shuddered, he made you feel weak in his hands and all you wanted to do was fall down but he didn’t let you. Instead his hands kept you firmly, head dipping down further along your collarbone and squatting down, placing them on the backs of your thighs, nudging.
Realizing what he wanted, you were quick to obey, jumping into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. Ben’s strong arms held you with no problems, hoisting you up so your head was now level with his own. You took the opportunity to press your lips against his own again, hands finding their place on his jawline, kissing with a passion you had never used before with anyone else. His hands pulled you down and he grinded against you, making you moan into his mouth, Ben’s tongue sliding past your parted lips and exploring your mouth.
He began to walk backwards, steadily so as to not trip. And the moment his calves hit the bed, he sat down, taking you with him so you were now straddling his thighs. You were becoming aware of the heat between you two, every shuddering breath that left his lips egged you on further, wanting to make him writhe and moan your name over and over again. The need for him was deeper than you had ever felt before, and you didn’t want to hold back anymore, you wouldn’t let yourself run away from this. It was like he had never left. 
There was a small knock on the door and it threw you off your groove, head snapping to the large door. Ben placed a hand on your side to steady you. “Who is it?” He asked, voice wavering a tiny bit at the interruption, hoping the person wouldn’t come in.
“Did you want to train tonight or tomorrow morning?” It was his sister Fei.
A sigh left Ben’s lips. “Tomorrow morning.” There was a muted reply that neither of you could hear, and another moment passed and you knew that she was gone.
“That was close-”
“Ben,” You breathed, not in the mood for small talk. You were still sitting on his thighs and you needed him more than ever now. “Stop talking.” A sly smile came across his lips and you wiped it away with a kiss, going back to the fast pace that had been set before. Your hands came and went under his shirt, feeling the taut skin of his abs and thanking God for his training and conditioning. He was considerably larger and muscular than when you had known him. The thought of him above you with a body like that? It made you falter in your movements.
Using the break in your concentration to his advantage, Ben started mouthing along your skin again, hands pulling up your shirt above your head. His eyes scanned your body, raising an eyebrow. “No bra?” He asked, making you shy away and look anywhere but at his face. You didn’t reply, but he seemed to not like that. His hand came and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. You gave a small smile, “Well I didn’t know that this was happening and I wanted to be comfy.” He hummed, somewhat disappointed in your answer but not disappointed at how compliant you seemed to be with him. Ben went back to kissing your neck, teeth grazing along your soft skin, making you jump whenever he bit down on a particular spot.
You were beginning to grow impatient. Perhaps it was with the way that he was worshiping you, wanting to kiss every single inch of you and make you keel into his touch over and over again. Or maybe it was because no one had ever made you feel this way before. You had been with others before, men whose names you didn’t bother remembering, all men who resembled the one below you now. Men, with blue eyes that you pretended were his, strong arms that felt like the ones that Ben wrapped around you before you said goodbye to him for what you didn’t know would be the last time. They never made you satisfied, and you were left feeling more broken than put together after the deed was done, scrambling to leave in the middle of the night to avoid the awkward conversation that would follow in the morning. Ben, even though he was only kissing you, put those men to shame. You wondered if he was thinking the same, that no woman measured up to you.
He definitely was.
Ben’s hands found your breasts, squeezing them and kneading them together, fingers coming to pinch your nipples. Your back arched into him and you almost fell over on top of him, using your hands on his muscles to stop you. You reached and decided you wanted to please him, to show him how much you wanted him. You trailed your hands under his shirt and came to the band of his pants, pushing your fingers past it and making your way down. Before you could hit his obvious hard on, one of his own hands came and grasped your wrists, pulling your hand away. You looked up, thinking that you did something wrong. Tilting your head, you gave him a silent what?
“I’m not done with you yet,” Ben explained. In one movement he put his hands to your back and flipped you two over, him now on top of you. Your head hit the mattress with a small humph and wondered what he had in store for you.
You worked with him to shimmy your pants and panties off, throwing them to some side of the room. His hands splayed against your thighs and you watched with an open mouth to see what he was going to do. He gave you a look, a familiar one that reminded you that you were actually here with him, not someone who looked and acted like him. It was actually Ben. The one that you still loved, the one that you trusted more than anyone in the world.
You were also well aware of the slick that was beginning to coat your thighs, body betraying you and showing him how much you wanted him, how you ached for him. Ben seemed to like it though, bringing his flesh hand to your slit and scooping some of it up. When he brought his hand back up, you could see the way that it glistened on his skin, popping a finger into his mouth and humming sinfully at the taste. He did it again and again, humming every single time your arousal hit his tongue. You looked down with heated cheeks, feeling a little embarrassed that you were getting so worked up over something so small. “You taste …” He trailed off, bringing his tongue to your folds and swiping up from your hole to your clit. “Amazing.”
“It’s all for you,” You said, wiggling your hips and urging him to pleasure you again. Ben smirked, feeling a sense of pride wash over him at your words. He brought a finger to you and pushed it in, watching your mouth open into a wide ‘O’ at the feeling. He curled it up, making your muscles tighten around him. Ben built a steady pace and he came back up to your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek sweetly as if he couldn’t hear the lewd sounds that were being created when he added a second finger in.
“Did he make you feel like this,” He asked, towering over you. His thumb rubbed against your clit while his fingers fucked into you. “Were you ever under me like this?”
You moaned out at his words, thighs clenching around his hand to keep him there. You couldn’t respond, too busy thinking about the steady fire that was building in you. You reached to climb higher, hoping he would grant you some kind of release. He didn’t give it to you though. Instead, whenever you were getting to that tipping point, he would stop all of his movements altogether until you stopped shaking, then repeat the process over and over again.
It was making you go crazy, how he had the power to push you towards release but he just wouldn’t do it.
“Tell me, when you were with other guys to forget, did they make you feel this good?” Ben whispered into your ear, biting the skin below it. “Did they make you shake under their fingertips?”
So that’s what it was. Jealousy. Ben was jealous of all the men that had been with you before him. How someone else had heard your first moans, been inside you, made you cum before he ever had the chance to. He was determined to make sure that he was better than them, and make sure that you would never go to anyone else again.
“Answer me.”
You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t. As if to test you further, he pushed a third finger into you, making you moan out his name loud and roll your eyes to the back of your skull. His thumb kept rubbing languid circles on your clit. You thought if you stayed quiet you could sneak an orgasm, cut him off guard. But as if he heard your thoughts, his movements stalled and he put his other hand firmly on your hips so you couldn’t even move against his statue-like hand. His dark eyes bore into your own and you squeezed around his fingers. “No, they weren’t anything like you. You make me feel so good, Ben.” The praise fell from your lips with ease, lava pooling in your stomach as if threatening to burst at any moment. If only he would just rub a little bit more …
He pulled his hand away from you. Ben didn’t even respond to your statement and you wondered if you said something wrong, if he had enough. And he had enough all right, but not enough of you. He wanted to see you cum, just around his cock and not his fingers.
But you couldn’t hear what he was thinking, which made you whimper when he pulled himself away fully, standing at the edge of the bed. You opened your legs up to him, the farthest that you could go without hurting yourself and hoping that it would make him come back to you quickly. Your clit was aching from several denied orgasms, almost thinking about pulling your hand down to finish yourself off, though deciding against it when knowing Ben would never allow something like that. He liked seeing you writhing like this.
Ben’s hands shed all his clothing. He wasn’t exactly putting on a show for you but you marveled anyways, watching the way that his muscles flexed when his shirt came off and how you wanted to lick all around his abdominal region and make your way all down to his cock, which was pressed against his stomach and slightly glistening with precum. It was big, probably the biggest you’ve ever had and felt your insides clench just thinking about it sliding into you. Once he was satisfied with his clothing off, he came back down to the bed and kneeled between your spread legs.
“Ben,” You whispered. “Please.”
“Please what?” There was a hint of mischief in his eyes and it took all of your strength to not roll your eyes. “What do you want me to do to you?” Of course he wanted to hear you say it, to announce what he was inevitably going to do.
You couldn’t ignore the way you loved how controlling he was with you, how he ordered you to do some things. And as much as you hated that he didn’t let you cum, you also loved how he would make you cum when he wanted you to, not you.
He took his cock into his hands and rubbed the tip against your glistening folds, teasing you in the most sinful way possible.
“Please … Fuck me Ben. Make me cum, I can’t take it anymore.” You just wanted him inside of you so badly, you were going to scream if this went on for any longer. He was right there, denying you both the pleasure.
With a nod of his head, he pushed into you in one fluid motion. The feeling of him bottoming out inside of you made you grip onto his bicep, pulling him close so his warm chest was against your own again. He wasted no time moving, the sound of it deliciously sweet in your ears. Ben took your legs and pushed them upwards, your feet hanging off of his shoulders and pressing your thighs further up until they were almost hitting the mattress. The change in position had you crying out, feeling him hit deeper inside of you.
You could feel every single scrape of his cock against your walls, increasing that fire in your stomach until you were sure you were about to cum. His pace was unrelenting, moving quicker and quicker until you were sure he was using all his power. He kept at it with such loyalty and vigor, his motivation to make you feel the best you ever had fuelling him to a tenfold. He was such a devoted man to begin with, so you should’ve known that he would handle things the same way in bed.
You squeezed around him. “Please,” You whimpered.
“Go ahead.” Those two words were all you needed, allowing yourself to scream out as your orgasm ripped through you, built up again and again and now it was finally here and it was amazing. It rippled through you like shockwaves, and made you go limp under him, legs completely boneless. Ben didn’t let up as he rode through your orgasm, keeping the same pace with you. He was unforgiving, not giving you time to adjust and instantly making you feel the feeling of overstimulation. You were so sensitive to his cock ramming in and out of you that you could feel a second orgasm already building up.
The tip of him hit a particularly nice spot in you and you yelled, curling your toes and your hands came to tangle and grip in his hair. You almost stopped for a moment thinking that you were hurting him, but when you looked at his face, you saw only fucked out bliss, white incisors showing in a ravenous grin. His eyes opened and they were almost fully dark, making you shiver.
You opened your mouth to speak but was halted by two of his fingers shoving their way into your mouth. It was harsh, but in a good way, your insides burning up as your second orgasm washed over you, sucking on his two fingers as they made your moans muffled.
“You feel so good. You’re so fucking tight,” He mumbled, as though he was talking to himself. He was completely thrown into the pleasure that you were giving him, hot and warm and just perfect, like you were made for his cock to be rammed into over and over again. “Made for me, all for me.” He used your past words, them never losing their meaning no matter how many times he muttered under his breath.
Time seemed to slow and grow faster at the same time, the whole room disappearing as both of you focused on only each other. You weren’t sure how many times he had made you cum at this point, you took whatever he gave you and took it well. When you got enough strength to crane your neck down, you watched as your hole enveloped his cock, it coming back out slicked with the remnants of your past orgasms. Ben saw where your eyesight was and a sense of pride washed over him again. “Do you like watching that? Seeing how well you take me?” He asked, egging you on. His hand went to grab your own and placed it on your lower abdomen, and you could feel the skin slightly raising up every time he went into you. You could see it too, sliding in and out.
Though, even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself, his movements were beginning to falter. He was becoming more sloppy with his hips and you knew he was about to cum. So, to give him what he had worked for, you wiggled your hips up, matching his hips. Your oversensitive clit rubbed against the base of his cock and you were clenching around him, and as if on cue, you were cumming again, feeling weak under him. Ben wrapped his arms around you and pulled you up, his cock splitting you open until he was spilling inside of you.
The moans that left his mouth were probably the hottest things you had ever felt in your life. You could feel his cum dripping down his cock, coating your thighs and dripping onto the soiled sheets. He put you down on the bed and followed you, eyes watching your own and kissing your sweaty forehead. He finally stopped moving and stilled inside, not wanting to leave you and go back to the way things had been before. He didn’t want to leave this moment and neither did you.
Because both of you knew when you were both cleaned up, you would have to come to terms with what was happening. 
So you stayed there with him, letting his cock stay inside of you and whispering sweet nothings into his ear, words of praise were exchanged. How good he had been, how good you made him feel … Anything that both of you could think of to keep the moment from ending. 
4K notes · View notes
messers-moony · 2 years
Text
Vulnerable | F.H
Paring: Five Hargreeves X Fem!Reader
Summary: Five finds a girl who flips his world upside down
It was no surprise Five Hargreeves was known as the ‘little boy’ around the academy after being thrown back into his thirteen-year-old body. His siblings always treated him as a younger brother, something he absolutely despised. 
His girlfriend also gave into the teasing, continually calling him the same names his siblings did, which only aggravated him more, but when the words fell from her tongue, it was like sugar. 
When she called him all the classic pet names, which Five had hated initially, it made his face heat up, and his entire body become queasy. His girlfriend was slowly changing his perspective on everything he once hated. 
The male hated video games, but now, he absolutely loves playing them. He also hated spending time with his siblings. Now he hates being away from them for long periods of time. The boy had become so vulnerable, and it would all be thanks to Y/n. 
Once all the Hargreeves siblings and Y/n were together on the couch watching a movie. Halfway through, Five became unbearably sleepy. Subconsciously he cuddled up on the female's side and fell asleep, leaving his siblings in complete awe at their now ‘soft’ younger brother. 
It’d be a lie that the siblings didn’t think Y/n had some form of power or potion to make their stubborn, grumpy little brother so soft and vulnerable. It turns out; she never had any form of power or tincture, just a boy who loved her with everything he had. 
Other times they’d be out just to leave the house, and Five would always hold the door open for her, holding her hand, arm around her waist, subtle things. 
The night was dark, making the stars shine like a flashlight in the night sky. Five sat at his desk while his girlfriend read a book with her glasses laid lazily on her nose. 
This wasn’t an unknown occurrence. Both significant others had their hobbies or jobs, and they both respected that. Y/n made sure to know boundaries just as well as Five did. 
But eventually, Five couldn’t take it anymore and struggled up from his desk. Dropping onto his twin bed beside his lover, and gently laid his head onto her thighs. 
Absentmindedly her hand went from her side into the brunette's hair leading him to lean into her touch. He laid in a ball with his head on his lover's lap while she massaged his head. 
Gently she put her book down on the nightstand, “ Love? “ A gentle voice asked as her other hand rubbed his side. 
“ Mm? “ Humming in response as he couldn’t form words, “ You alright? “ Y/n quizzed as her hands pulled the boy to sleep. 
Five nodded in response, “ Just tired. “ Five-spoke once he could form words, “ You know when we first got together, I never thought we’d be here. “ Y/n announced, making Five visibly furrow his eyebrows confused. 
Y/n let out a small laugh, “ I mean, when we first got together, I could barely kiss you, and now here you are curled up on my lap. “ 
“ You made me this way. “ Five groaned as he nuzzled into her lap further, “ Good. I’m glad. “ Y/n responded. 
Without another word, Five fell asleep, a dreamless one, a nightmare less one. Y/n let out a quiet chuckle at the now sleeping male and reached for her book to keep reading. 
3K notes · View notes
sagelovesbooks · 7 months
Text
Paint
Y/n: Do you think different paints have different tastes? Klaus: They do. Five: ...Why did you say that with such certainty?
669 notes · View notes
mangoshorthand · 8 months
Note
oh, and it was a guy who decided to tell me that as soon as all my clothes were off
Original request:
I have a really personal request of thats ok w u. my first time having sex i was called ugly and obese, and it still sticks with me nowadays so i shy away from being fully exposed/on top/having the lights on bc im scared they were right and its gonna happen again - so how would 5 deal w this in a partner? if this is too weird 4 u then just ignore
Thanks to @kaybreezy3000 for reading through this before I posted and making me sound less like a wildly-masturbating 19th century nobleman. Note for you at the end, anon.
Venus and Cupid | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader 4k words, Rated E
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Five was an observant man: he had to be. If he hadn’t learned to pick up on the details then it's doubtful he could have even made it to adulthood.  
So he noticed that you had quite specific tendencies very early on, back when you were first seeing one another. The first time you had sex, he thought you leaving your clothes on was pretty hot - it seemed as if you were so desperate to have him inside you that you couldn’t delay it even the short time it would take to get undressed - but it quickly became apparent to him that this was something more.
You always seemed to leave as many clothes on as humanly possible, or else turn off the lights before undressing shyly, almost reluctantly, always keeping something clutched around you. 
His first reaction was to feel frustrated, (okay, frustrated and insecure, if you insisted on wheedling that out of him). Were you even into it? 
He loved the sex you had, and you certainly seemed to get something out of it, but all the while you were covering yourself from his lustful gaze like he was a lecherous drunk eyeing you from down an alley. 
He just didn’t understand it. Things were great outside the bedroom: you laughed together, you had intelligent, lively conversations…you even romanced him in a way nothing had taught him to expect. You anticipated his wants, you surprised him with dates and the occasional gift. You made him feel special and wanted in every way except this one way.
And he needed it that way too.
Maybe there was something about sex that brought home to you that he was old enough to be your father. Maybe you saw his hungry gaze as the leer of a dirty, predatory old man...and that thought hurt because it held too much truth.
He finally asked you about it after a session of sex in which you looked distinctly uncomfortable riding him, avoiding his gaze and keeping the bed sheets wrapped around you. 
He brought it up in a way typical to him: blunt antagonism as defense, masking his real insecurities. “Question: why are you with me?”
“Because I like you,” you replied, confused by his tone.
“Sure,” he said, the smallest trace of sarcasm in his voice, “but there’s a problem here, isn’t there?”
You turned to him on the pillow, and you were greeted by his expectant, irritated smile. He raised a brow, clearly prompting you to state this so-called ‘problem’. When you seemed none the wiser, he continued. 
“The problem seems to be that you hate having sex with me.” 
You looked at him, nonplussed.
“No I don’t. Why would you say that?”
He shook his head with the trace of a bitter laugh. 
“So you just hate me looking at you, is that it? You know, nobody’s forcing you to sleep with me. We could just end it if you can’t stand me ogling you.”
You turned away from him, folding your arms across your chest protectively, hugging yourself. You tried not to cry, but tears were already welling in your eyes, threatening to overspill and roll down your face. You could feel him slipping away; sense the rejection coming on the breeze.
At the sound of a sniffle, Five softened slightly 
“Why do you always cover yourself?” he said, finally.
You choked back the tears.
“B-because I’m self-conscious about my body, okay?”
Five sounded incredulous.
“You’re self-conscious about your body?”
You nodded, still not looking at him.
“Don’t bullshit me,” he said, suddenly irritated again, “You expect me to believe someone who looks like you is self conscious about her body? You’re beautiful, what the hell do you got to be self conscious about?”
His words, though spoken in a tone of irritated disbelief, gave you a warm feeling in your chest. In fact, it was his irritation that assured you of his honesty. That feeling of affirmation brought more tears at first, and it took a few moments to recover.
Five waited for you to begin patiently, able to tell by now that you’d been holding something back, and realizing for the first time that perhaps this wasn’t all about him.
You told him everything.
Your first sexual experience was with somebody who called you ‘ugly’ and ‘obese’ as soon as your clothes were removed. The first man to touch you in that way had used that privilege, not to lift you up and make you feel beautiful, but to tear you down, destroying your confidence in the process. Now, being in full view when having sex was almost unbearable to you, so you avoided Five seeing you completely naked and you avoided being on top as far as you could, lest it break the illusion and he see you for what you really were. 
You stopped occasionally to cry, unable to meet Five’s eyes. It was partially the memories, and partly the fact that you were bearing your soul to him in this way: totally vulnerable. You were giving power to him now; knowledge of how to hurt you worse than almost anything if he chose. 
As he listened, Five’s heavy brows lowered further and further, his lips becoming thinner and thinner, occasionally shaking his head as you unfolded the tale.
“Shit.” he said, after you finished your story, and then fell into silence. After almost a full minute, he spoke in a low, serious tone.
“What was his name?”
“It doesn’t matter,” you said, wiping your eyes.
“What was his name?”
You told him.
“Well he’s a fucking idiot, you know that right? A nasty little…you know where he lives?”
“No.”
“No problem, I can find him.”
“Five-”
“First I’ll pull out his fucking fingernails.”
“Five, no.”
“I’ll kill that cunt slow. Ignorant-”
“Five!” 
Your raised voice finally made him turn his head.
“What good would killing him do?”
He blinked. 
“It would make me feel better,” he said, though the murderous fantasies seemed to be fading from behind his eyes. 
Then, he shook his head, casting the thoughts away like a dog shaking off water. 
“....I  admit that making me feel better is low on our priority list right now.”
He held out his arms to you. When you didn’t immediately enter his embrace, he spoke in a voice so soft, and so caring that you couldn’t deny him. 
“Please, my love.” 
My love?
That was new. 
You leaned up against him, and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, one around your shoulders, the other around your waist. 
“You don’t have to feel self-conscious or…ashamed around me. You know I would never - you know that I…I worship you, for Chist’s sake. I’m desperate to see all of you. That guy was an ignorant, tasteless bastard. You don’t - surely you know that?”
You nodded uncertainly, another tear running down the side of your nose. 
“I guess,” you said, mouth against his firm pectoral, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart, “but I always get scared. Like you might…like one day you might see me and...get grossed out. Because…I know, I know I’m not sexy. I know I’m -”
“You think you aren’t sexy?” he said, speaking as if you’d just claimed that you were an organic cucumber, “are you crazy?” 
He pulled away from you, a hand on each shoulder so he could look you dead in the eye.
“Jesus, you think I’d be ‘grossed out’ if I saw you? I’m not blind, y'know; a bedsheet or a light switch can’t really hide your body from me. You’re so sexy, I can barely think straight sometimes - how in the hell can you not see that? I’d choose you for looks over any girl, every damn time. The other day when you were wearing that tight black dress- god, I pitched a tent big enough to sleep eight.”
And the way he looked down at your silhouette had you almost believing him.
You smiled, nevertheless self conscious of the idea of your black dress being more form-hugging than you’d thought. Five continued, sweeping his hair carelessly out of his eyes. 
“And it’s not just your face or your body, it’s the way you carry yourself. The way your hair falls, your smile, the color of your skin. It’s just attractive. It’s hot. End of story.”
The vehemence in his face made you smile a little more. He looked the way he did when he’d just completed a complex mathematical proof: buzzing with the knowledge of pure, objective truth. From his perspective, he had just conclusively proved an undeniable fact. 
“I know I’m biased because I love you, but anyone would say that you’re beautiful. When you met Klaus, he took me aside and told me I was punching way over my weight. I didn’t even argue-”
But you interrupted him.
“You love me?”
He fell silent abruptly, playing back his last words in his mind.
Yup, he’d definitely said it. 
He swallowed. He was an idiot.
“Well yes. Actually, I do.” 
Before you had time to do anything except gape, he rushed to fill the silence:
“I know it’s not been too long, and I don’t expect you to feel the same-”
“But I do.”
He fell silent again, his eyes on yours. 
They were strange eyes. Their shape and color, although beautiful, were normal enough, but there was a little something in their expression that always took you firmly by the throat. One might fall into those eyes and drown, yet his hand, coming to take yours, tethered you to the water’s edge. 
“You sure?”
“Never been more sure of anything,” you breathed.
His lips gave a spasm and, for a moment, you both thought he was going to cry too, but instead, he just smiled. He smiled for you a lot, but the clear, open love in this one was like being bathed in warm sunlight, and you luxuriated in it.
Then, he laughed. He giggled, in fact. It bubbled up his throat and out of his mouth before he could temper it into anything that sounded more sophisticated.
“We love each other,” he said, grinning in a dopey, infectious way.
When you smiled back, he cupped your chin gently, those eyes keeping your face upturned to his just as firmly as his hand did. He leaned into you.
At first, his kiss was tender, and your lips slid past and around one another like an embrace. But when he leaned forward, forcing you back onto your pillows, his tongue entered your mouth, and the kiss took on a more amorous character. He made a low noise as he deepened his tongue’s quest into your mouth, and you reciprocated with a soft bite to his lower lip. 
He growled, and heat spread through you as his kiss became rough and firm, pressing you into the pillows now with the weight of his body. All the tenderness had transferred from his lips to his hands, one stroking reassuringly through your hair, and the other at your waist, giving you feather-light, electric touches through the bedsheets.
Your hands came to his subtly muscled back, and cinched him closer to you. The heat was concentrating now, pooling in your lower stomach and swirling there as his unyielding lips let you know that resistance was futile. Your skin was alight with every gentle, loving touch from his fingers, now starting to work their way beneath the bedsheets.
He broke the kiss just long enough to speak. His voice matched the kiss: deep, rough and feral.
“Let me see you.”
Though it was a command, it had the sound of a request, so you took it as such.
Despite the desire now aching in your guts, your fears were still there: perhaps irrational in this situation, but no less real. Beneath the sheets, Five’s hand squeezed and massaged the flesh just above your hip. The touch spoke of his renewed need, but it spoke also of his restraint: his hand had stopped just shy of the area you’d usually hide.
“Please.”
And the word, in that husky voice, broke you. 
“Okay,” you said, arousal threatening to be overcome by nerves, “just…take it slowly.”
He nodded distractedly. His eyes were roaming your skin as he came to kneel between your legs. Both of his hands were now inching the bedsheets down, from your waist to the swell of your hips.
He made a low noise in his throat, and his soft hair fell onto the newly-exposed torso as he bent to kiss it, hot presses of his lips against sensitive skin. His hands skimmed you, feeling out your flesh.
“So beautiful,” he growled, looking up at you, fingers worming their way beneath the sheets again, “is this okay?”
You nodded as he pulled the sheets down another few inches, exposing your stomach to just below the navel. As the air met the newly-exposed skin, you felt gooseflesh prickle across your arms, your stomach tightening with the feeling of exposure. “Pretty girl.” Five cooed, running his hands across your tummy, his pressure gentle, but proprietary. 
With another slow shift of the sheets, and you were exposed to your pubic bone. He let out a breath and squeezed the skin of your hips, smiling at you broadly. It was the dangerous, toothy smile.
“I’m sorry, my love, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to get you over this. I’m going to have to make you realize how fucking hot you are, because I’m going to need to hold onto you just like this while you bounce on my cock. I need to watch these tits bounce while you ride me.”
He squeezed your flank harshly, making you gasp, and you arched your back into him as he leaned forward to take each nipple into his mouth. There was a low rumble in his throat as he first nibbled, and then soothed each tortured bud with his tongue. Your whines tailed off into moans, as arousal and the intensity of his desire once again overcame your fears. 
You felt his satisfied smile around your nipples, and then his hands left your hips to paw and knead your breasts, weighing and bouncing them in each hand. 
He gave you another kiss on the lips before straightening up, so that he was kneeling over you again, head tilted as he looked down on you, almost speculatively. The position made it obvious that he was hard again, his bulge stretching the fabric of his white boxer-briefs, leaning up against his stomach and beginning to put pressure on the elastic of his waistband. His pretty, curved cock was perfectly outlined by the material: 
“I’m going to make you feel so confident that you’ll push me onto the bed, trap me between your thighs and ride me so hard I get a concussion against the headboard.”
Though the idea made you feel another squirm of discomfort, the humor combined with the lust behind his eyes made you give a small smile.
“Not today,” you said, in a small voice.
The memories were still too close…the hurt from recalling them was only just over the horizon. 
“Not today.” he confirmed, eyes roving down to where the bedsheets still covered your sex, “but can I see your pussy, beautiful?”
“Yes.” you said, barely more than a whisper.
“Mm. Good girl,” he groaned, and pulled the bedsheets down to your knees. 
There you were, fully exposed to him…totally bared. Internally, you were fighting between the urge to cover up, and the urge to please him. You still felt exposed, like a turtle without its shell, vulnerable laid out in front of him. 
He was still taking it all in, eyes lingering on where your thighs were as close together as they could be with his body between your calves.
Part of you was still terrified it was coming. Perhaps he wouldn’t be cruel -  he’d probably try to be polite about it - but he was still about to reject you now that he’d finally got a real look. Perhaps it was okay when his imagination could fill in the blanks, but now he’d actually seen you - 
“Oh,” he said.
And in that syllable, all your fears were proved baseless. The sound was a moan of pure, wanton appreciation.
His tongue slid out to wet his lips, still pink and swollen from his hard kisses. His dominant left hand slid immediately into his underwear, and he began to pump himself vigorously. Apparently, he was more than ready for this evening’s second round. 
“Oh my god,” he groaned, speeding his strokes as his eyes roamed your exposed flesh, “you’re so hot.”
As his eyes came to your thighs and pussy again, he increased the frequency of his strokes, fist still out of sight down his underwear. 
“Five,” you said, anxiously, still feeling slightly uncomfortable. 
“Just a few minutes, baby.” he said, desperately, “Look what you’re doing to me.”
Beneath the material, he retracted his foreskin and pressed the head of his cock against the small, wet patch that had appeared there. The pink of his deeply-flushed cock tip was just visible through the fabric, rendered semi-transparent by his precome.
“I’m already leaking.” he said, agony creeping into his rough voice, “Just a few more minutes. Just until I finish.”
His eyes looked hazy, far away somehow, transported to a place where his body’s need ruled him with an iron fist. It was enchanting to behold, impossibly arousing: Five Hargreeves (the man of impeccably starched, pressed and tightly-buttoned dress shirts), was keening in front of you, totally undone with his hips gyrating into his own fist as he visually devoured your body.
“Let me eat you,” he said, begging now, “I want to jack myself off with my head between those thighs.”
And he groaned at the idea, throwing his head back and speeding his pumps.
Your body didn’t give you the opportunity to turn him down. Your pussy throbbed and slick wetness drooled onto your thighs as you looked up at him, all pale skin, latent strength and desperation.
You gave a small nod, and he bent, first to kiss your lips and then to press small pecks onto each thigh.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, “open your legs for me. Show me that pretty pussy.”
And that way, with small kisses progressively further up your thighs, he coaxed your legs wide.
“Good girl,” he crooned, his hand leaving his leaking cock only for the minute it would take to run his index finger up and down your slit. 
You shivered at the contact, too sensitive. He’d already fingered and fucked you to two orgasms tonight, and the feeling of his mouth replacing his finger made you buck immediately. 
“Nngh - Five.”
In response to your moan, he tasted you with a flat tongue. 
Your flavor, a potent honey, made his cock twitch in his hand, and he wrapped his free arm around your leg, drawing you even closer to him. Your soft folds soaked his lips, serving to excite him more.
“Fuck,” he whispered, still in that low growl. His exhale sent warm air dancing across your swollen clit, “you’re so perfect. I love you. I love you so fucking much.”
You had no time to glow with his praise, because he was sucking your clit too hard for you to do anything but gasp. As his mouth worked you, his tongue moved rapidly inside his mouth, flicking deliberately across your aching, needy nub. His tongue pulsed to the same beat as his hand inside his underwear, unconsciously matching the rhythm of your pleasure to his.
“God, Five!”
All the shame and discomfort was gone, washed away by the tide of swirling heat. The pleasure curled inside you, winding tighter and tighter. All that mattered now was Five’s clever mouth, pushing you inexorably towards another orgasm. 
Your conscious brain let go, and your hand gripped his hair tightly, not aware that you were pulling him even closer to you, forcing his nose into your mound. 
He grunted like a wounded bear, surprise causing his hand to falter around his cock. It was hard to concentrate, so preoccupied was he by the fact that you were taking control, pressing his face deeper into your folds. It was quite possibly the hottest thing he had ever experienced.
Recovering, he gripped himself even tighter, veins and tendons standing out in his left forearm as he worked himself almost violently. 
He was too close now, and it made him clumsy, completely losing the rhythm of his suckles and tonguing. 
“Nooo!” you whined, thighs tightening around his head, “Like before!”
Though lightheaded with the knowledge that your thighs were crushing his ears, (he was wrong earlier, this was definitely the hottest thing he had ever experienced), Five reluctantly let up on his protesting manhood and concentrated his efforts on your pussy. 
Soon, you were gasping and moaning, writhing, and taking him with you with the power of your thighs. 
“F-Five. Fuuuck. Oh fuck, that’s it!” 
Your cunt gushed onto his face as he brought you to orgasm. He groaned again as his chin and cheeks were soaked with sweet slickness. He strained to hear you scream his name, your thighs rendering him deaf as they clutched around his ears. While he couldn’t hear the individual words, he certainly heard enough to flatter his ego. 
Wave after wave of ecstasy was crashing through you, and you babbled meaninglessly: unconnected, incomprehensible syllables. Behind closed eyes, you were seeing stars, completely unaware of everything but the explosion going on in your lower body.
He withdrew, finally, when your thighs relaxed and your climax abated to spasms down your limbs. As you were still catching your breath, he rose to his knees, wiped his sodden mouth, and took himself in hand again, looking at you splayed, completely on display and too drunk on his sex to care.
It took him fewer than ten pumps to bring himself to orgasm. 
“Fucking gorgeous - cunt tastes so good. Mm - fucking perfect, so fucking hot. Oh shit!”
Eyebrows raised, mouth wide in a perfect ‘o’, he exploded into his underwear.
You could see his first shots of come soaking through the material before he was even finished painting their insides with spurts of his thick seed: an impressive load given the fact it was his second in under an hour. 
His throat ground out a low whine as he slowed his hand. 
He took four or five seconds to catch his breath, and in that time your conscious mind took a firmer hold. Though you pulled the bedsheets up and over you, it was more for physical comfort rather than mental. 
Five crawled beneath the sheets beside you, still breathing hard. When he collapsed on the pillow, he turned to you.
“Believe me now?” he asked, “you think I’d wank myself raw over someone I thought was ugly?”
You smiled and let out a small puff of air; a shy little laugh.
He propped himself up on one elbow while his other hand caressed your body beneath the sheets.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, firmly, “To me, you’re a renaissance painting, and I was there when Titian finished Venus and Cupid, okay?”
“Okay,” you murmured, eyes already heavy, “I’m sorry that I squeezed your head with my legs.”
“You kidding me?” he said, amused, “You could break my neck with your thighs and I’d die happy…what a way to go.”
“Well,” you said, a little discomfort returning, “I still feel bad.”
“Baby steps,” he said, voice as soft as his hand now stroking hair away from your eyes, “soon I’ll have you riding me fast and rough.”
You smiled and let his caresses close your tired eyes. After a few minutes, in which he looked lovingly down at your gentle doze, his voice sounded again.
“Can I at least beat the living shit out of that guy?”
You considered.
“...Maybe.”
Request masterlist >> HERE
NOTE: Dear sweet, anonymous girl, I see you. You did not deserve this, and this was never your problem. These formative experiences really do hurt us, and yours was such an extreme version that I'm not surprised it's given you these insecurities. I can promise you, it does get better. Feminism and loving yourself is at least half the battle, but nothing quite cements the truth like this: One day, you will be naked in front of a guy you trust completely. He'll look at you with that lustful, testosterone-fuelled glower and you'll know without a shadow of a doubt that, to him, you are venus. I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.
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joenotexotic99 · 1 year
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The pleasure before the storm
masterlist
Five Hargreaves x f!reader
Warning: slight spoilers for season 3, smut, oral f!receiving, hand job male and female receiving, bathtub sex, riding, unprotected sex (rember it won't harm her to wear some armor,) cream pie, language, squirting, face riding, and of course fluff.
Lmk if I missed any :)
-Five and reader are both in there 20s-
Word count: 1.5K
-I am not responsible for what you read on the internet so please do not blame me for adult content-
A/n: I know this is not my regular Fandom however I ABSOLUTELY love the umbrella academy and there is a SEVERE lack of smut in this Fandom so I did a favor for all the whores for five out there and wrote this
Enjoy
<3
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*I'm too lazy to write a whole ass backstory for this so just imagine that you and five got wrapped up with each other in the 60's and fell in love or some shit and just went with them to the future*
Everything was finally ok for the most part. Everyone was finally able to let out a sigh of relief, especially five. His entire life he never got the chance to feel a feeling that wasn't stress or worry or anger. He wasn't fighting or getting hurt. The only emotion he was enveloped in was his love for you.
God, you drove him mad. You were able to find that soft spot in him, so. fucking. quickly. And he loved it. He loved that no matter what he could come back from God knows where or when and be with you. To hold you, kiss you, fuck you.
Steam filled the room as you laid your head on five's chest, back to his front. You let the warm water of the bath relieve any tight mussels that were left. Five had rubbed your thigh up and down in a loving manner.
You were letting the warmth of the atmosphere slowly lull you to sleep when five's hand crept slowly up to your inner thigh. Your sleep was quickly replaced by a different warmth that was rapidly turning to heat.
"Five" you breathed. Praying that he won't stop.
He didn't reply, instead drawing his middle finger to the place you needed him most. Lazily rubbing your clit.
You squirmed due to the sensation but before you could do much, five moved his free arm around you keeping you in place.
He didn't say a word. He simply quickened his pace on your sensitive nub, keeping a strong hold on you. Making it so the only thing you could do was grip the bathtub and take it.
You moaned his name like a prayer. Over and over and over. A colorful array of language spewed out of your mouth. Head thrown back. The slight feeling of five creating a hickey on your neck. The feeling of your quickly building orgasm took over everything you simply need a little push just one. small. push.
You heard five say one word that tips you over the edge.
"Come"
And it was over. You squeezed the bathtub until your hands turned white. Letting pleasure wash over you.
Your senses came back as you laid to catch your breath. Five's arm that was around you moved to your side and prompted you to turn around. As you sat down in his lap facing him. Five stroked your cheek. And leaned in to kiss your lips. He pulled back, hand still resting on your cheek.
"You did so good for me my love" he stated. While pulling you back to another kiss with more fever this time.
You whined into the kiss wanting more. You reached down between your body's to stroke his already hard and leaking erection.
Five closed his eyes at the feeling of your soft hands around him. As much as he adored the feeling of your hand he wanted something else.
He moved his own hand down and stopped your movements. You looked up at him with the most desperate hungry eyes. Fuck, five could Cum from that look alone if he wanted to. Five gripped your sides and brought you closer, hovering right over his length. He put his mouth right up to your ear and whispered
"What are you waiting for? Ride me"
That's all it took for you as you sunk on to his dick. Both of your heads are thrown back at the action. Five kept his hand on your sides as you slid up then back down. You repeated the action until you set a fast rough pace. The burn in your thighs long forgotten due to the overwhelming sensation.
You sunk down as five pushed up to meet you halfway. Water splashed over the sides of the tub creating a puddle around it. The temperature of the room quickly rose as a layer of sweat started to form on both of you. The sound of your moans were music to his ears as you grounded down on him. God he never felt better. If he were to die he was a thousand percent sure that he would wake up to find that this was his heaven. And he would not complain one bit. The way your breasts bounced every time your body's slammed into each other. The way you would throw your head back and chant his name or tell him to not stop. He Wasn't completely sure if this was even real. Maybe he did die in the jump because this moment right here was fucking ethereal. The way you squeezed around him brought him back to reality. He knew you were about to come. And so was he. Your pace got more brutal until you stopped letting your orgasm consume you. White spots clouding your vision. You felt so good. So fucking good. Five spilled into you letting out his own groan from his high.
The water was now cold making you shiver.
Five noticing the drop in temperature as well he sat up and spoke.
"here let's get you out and back to our room huh?" Five asked as you tiredly nodded your head in approval. Five stood and picked you up bridal style. He set you down on a bench. He grabbed one of the towels you two left out prior to your bath. And wrapped in a round your shoulders. He soothingly rubbed your arms. You clung to the white towel as five stood up to fetch the other one. He wrapped it around his waist and walked over to the bath and leaned over to take out the plug letting it drain.
You stood up to remove the towel from around your shoulders and wrapped it around your front.
Five reached his hand out letting go you know to take it. You to walked hand in hand to your rooms miraculously without anyone noticing.
Five being the responsible one had the key with him and unlocked the room to find it pleasantly empty. You both walked in as the door closed behind you with the sound of a click signaling that it had locked.
Five turned around facing you and slowly walked forward until your back hit the door.
Five played with edge of the towel as he looked into your eyes
"You think you can take one more for me sweetheart?" Five asked
You nodded your head yes not trusting your voice.
"I need to hear you say it" Five stated
"God fuck, please" you whined
Five Immediately ripped the towel off your body and threw it to God knows where. He quickly dropped to his knees and skipped the teasing needing a taste of you. He grabbed your thighs and put them over his shoulders. Diving into your heat. His tongue licks up every square inch of your sweet sweet cunt. Eventually landing on your already overestimated clit. As his finger pushed into your sex. Pumping in and out fast. His tongue doing figure eights. He closed his eyes loving every second of this. You ran your fingers through his hair as you pushed his mouth closer, practically riding his face, chasing your high.
"Fuck five" you moaned out pulling on his hair making him moan into you.
The vibrations making scream from overstumulating pleasure. You couldn't care less about your neighbors. As you rode his face, the coil in your lower abdomen got thinner and thinner with every second until it snapped. A rush of heat ran through your body. Every nerve In your body was on fire. When you came down from your third high of the night you looked down to see five's face covered in your juice. You hadn't realized what you had done, to wrapped up In the moment. You weren't even sure you could squirt until now. Five stood up and looked at you.
You were scared of his reaction seeing as how you had never done that before. However a wide grin took over his face. He picked you up, legs wrapping around him as he walked over to bottom bunk of the bed. Setting you down. He pulled the towel off his body doing the same to his towel as yours. He was already hard again
He fell on top of you letting his hands catch him. He kissed you hard again again and again before he pulled away.
" I want you to do that again," five declared. Sex and want dripping from his voice.
"Do what?" You asked, making sure you were thinking the same thing as him.
"You know what" he whispered, lining up with your entrance and pushing, just to start a brutal pace of wonderful pleasure.
You were in for a long and fun night.
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Imagine a heart-to-heart with Five at the end of the world…
“Here we are. End of the world - again.” You said dismally as the giant plume of death-smoke swirled in the air. It would have been beautiful if this wasn’t the end. Noticing the empty space beside Five, you gestured to the spot to silently inquire if you could take a seat.
“Knock yourself out.” He sighed taking another large swig of alcohol.
Planting yourself down, you hung your legs over the literal edge of the world and took a deep breath.
“You know, I figured that if I went out it would be mid-fight or old-age. But sitting and waiting for the inevitable end feels… lacklustre.” You confessed.
Five chuckled softly. “You sound like Diego.”
You smiled at the comment of likeness and bumped into his arm. “And how do you feel about all of it? I don’t think anyone would have remembered to ask.” You wondered and turned in his direction only to see Five lower the drink. He exhaled and shook his head.
“Honestly. I feel like shit. Every time I try to save the world it gets more fucked up.” He replied and glanced at you for a quick second before straightening up. “And what’s worse is that my oldest friend still thinks I’m a teenager and forgets that I’m an old man.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. He was right. You definitely treated Five more carefully than the others and often forgot that he was trapped in his young body.
Taking the bottle from his hands, you took a large swig and wiped you mouth with the back of your hand as you gave it back. “I promise I’ll be more of an asshole to you.”
Smirking, Five emptied the rest of the liquor before tossing the bottle into the void.
“Never change Y/n. You’ve been the only constant thing in this madhouse of a family. I think you’re great as is.” He offered kindly. “We all do.”
~ More imagines here ~
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