#Number Five x reader imagines

[rcksmith]

Untouchable - Five Hargreeves

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

Resume: The villain falls in love with the girl.

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

Couple: Five Hargreeves /Fem!Reader.

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

Word count: 15k.

A/N: Spoiler from season 3.

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

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

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

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

Requests are OPEN. Love you ❤️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What hell is going on?

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

In 1750.

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

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

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

Nothing. As always.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What was happening?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His mind saw everything, but processed nothing.

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

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

It was a female voice. Now he could tell.

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

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

Until now.

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

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

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

You.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was until he showed up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A name…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ‘One second can change many things...’

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

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

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

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

‘you can fall in love.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not after this man.

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

Yes, with his mother and Allison.

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

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

God in heaven… this girl was breathtakingly beautiful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What was foolish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But nothing has wobble him as much as you have.

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

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

Until now.

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

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

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

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

“A death.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then everything stopped.

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

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

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

What the fucking hell.

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

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

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

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

Five Hargreeves was the predator she should fear.

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

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

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

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

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

“Five...you know her need to die...”

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

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

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

You were untouchable.

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

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

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

Something he would never let happen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A place where the worst had happened to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not even Five.

And so it was done.

-----------

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

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

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

Always you.

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

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

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

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

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

But, it was worth it.

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

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

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

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

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

And it would be for the rest of his life.

-----------

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

Everyone thought so, actually.

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

Until that fateful moment.

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

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

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

Five.

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

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

Was like resurrect.

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

Nothing.

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

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

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

But nobody noticed what he saw.

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

You.

You.

Fucking hell...you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holy shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It don’t make sense.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But love could drive even the smartest minds crazy.

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

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

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

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

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Never."

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

Five Hargreeves knew what that meant.

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

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

-----------

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

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

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

A hierarchical system that filled the family with toxicity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wanted to touch him, not fight with him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Five…Five

His name was Five.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You needed to see him.

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

-----------

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

And he didn't find any answers.

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

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

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

“What is the enemy doing here?!"

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

You.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking damn. He wanted you so badly.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh lord, please he do that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you would rather die than stop.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[thebearmage]

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

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!

[mangoshorthand]

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

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.

[i-like-writing-stuff]

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?

“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.

[nickeverdeen]

how about five x reader when the reader accidently confesses feelings? Please and thank you!

Acidentally confessing your feelings to Five Hargreeves

TW: gunshot injury, mention of getting shot, reader taking care of a gunshot wound

————————————————————

The aftermath of the mission cast a subdued ambiance over the Umbrella Academy. Five Hargreeves, despite his usual uncanny ability to navigate danger unscathed, bore a minor wound—a gunshot graze on his shoulder. The living room, once a battleground, now transformed into a makeshift infirmary.

Y/N, a mixture of relief and worry evident in their eyes, found themselves tending to Five's injury. The air held a tangible tension, the near miss of danger lingering in the room.

As they delicately cleaned the wound, Y/N couldn't help but let their guard down, "You know, Five, for someone who can time travel, you sure have a knack for attracting trouble in the present."

Five, typically stoic, winced at the sting of disinfectant but couldn't suppress a smirk. "I like to keep things interesting."

With the task at hand, the Y/N's thoughts became a tempest of emotions. The sight of Five, vulnerable yet resilient, stirred something profound within them. It was in that charged moment, amid the quiet echoes of the mission's aftermath, that words slipped out before they could be reined in.

"You're infuriating, you know that?" Y/N muttered, their tone a blend of exasperation and affection. "Getting yourself shot and making me worry like that."

Five, more accustomed to trading barbs than receiving concern, raised an eyebrow. "I assure you, it's not on my list of preferred activities."

As Y/N carefully bandaged the wound, they sighed, their gaze meeting Five's. "You have this way of making me care, Five. More than I ever planned to. I mean, who would've thought?"

The admission hung in the air, laden with a vulnerability that transcended the typical banter between the Hargreeves siblings. Five, though adept at masking his emotions, seemed momentarily caught off guard.

A beat of silence passed before Five quipped, "Well, it seems I'm not the only one who can make things interesting."

The room, steeped in a quiet understanding, bore witness to a confession that wasn't grandiose or cliché but was instead woven into the fabric of their shared moments—a revelation that unfolded amidst the aftermath of danger, a gunshot graze, and the quiet acknowledgment of something deeper.

[badkitty3000]

Physical Fitness

Five has been distant lately, but you discover all he needs is a good workout to get his mind back on you again

Words: 2800

Warnings: Smut, Daddy kink, masturbation

☂️Requests open!☂️

Link to my Number Five Fanfiction Master List

Five doesn’t always give you his utmost attention when he gets home. Some days he’s bursting through the door, pissed off about one thing or another, already in mid-sentence while he rants about the lack of brain cells in whoever was annoying him that day. So, you listen quietly, with an amused expression that you try and hide from him until he calms down enough for you to speak. Usually, all it takes is a soft kiss, a scratch down his back with your nails, and maybe even a stiff drink and he’s back to being putty in your hands.

You don’t care if he stomps around the kitchen, slamming cupboard doors and rattling the glasses inside. Or if he’s so worked up, he can’t sit still and he paces back and forth in the living room while muttering various curse words under his breath. You don’t mind because his anger is never aimed at you, and you are also the only one who can dare to try and calm him down without fear of bodily harm.

No, those things don’t bother you. What does bother you is when he outright ignores you. Those times when he hurries through the door, waves a hasty hello without even glancing up, and shuts himself away in his office. When you try and go to him, knocking hesitantly on the door and cracking it open, he’ll look up momentarily from whatever he’s doing, give you a brief smile, and he’s back at it again. On those days, you’ve learned to just let him be. But it still doesn’t make you any less irritated.

He knows it pisses you off. So, later, when you’ve gone to bed before him and you’re feigning sleep, he’ll slip in behind you and pull you close. He’ll whisper how much he loves you and place kisses along your shoulder and neck until you can’t take it anymore and you’re pushing back against him, having forgotten what you were mad about in the first place.

Those days used to be few and far between, but lately, it’s become a habit. Every day these past two weeks, it’s been one quick peck on the cheek or brief hug, before he’s back at his “research” and ignoring you behind closed doors. You’ve tried talking to him, and he says he’ll make an effort but so far you haven’t seen anything change. You know you have a solid relationship and he would never do anything to intentionally hurt you, but you’re not sure why he’s acting like this. Probably just because he’s an oblivious man wrapped up in his own world, but still, it’s making you worry.

When you are stressed, you usually throw yourself into some kind of physical activity. For a while it was kickboxing, and then it was tennis. Lately, it’s been yoga. It seems to work well for relaxing your mind while also getting a bit of a workout. Tonight you think about going to the studio that you usually frequent, but decide you’re too lazy and you’ll just do your own routine at home.

Five is still not home, but you aren’t going to wait for him. Not like it would matter anyway. You change into your sports bra and black leggings, pull your hair back in a ponytail, and fill up your water bottle. Once you are set up in the living room, with the lights dimmed and relaxing music playing, you begin with a few stretches and then move into some more advanced poses.

Your workout is an hour long and about 30 minutes in you have a nice sheen of sweat covering your body and you’re feeling good. The next half is more about cooling down and resetting your mind. As you are getting into position for the next pose, you hear Five open and close the door to the house, and his footsteps walking towards the room you’re in. You don’t stop what you’re doing. Your time is valuable too, and if he can’t be bothered to stop what he’s doing lately, then why should you?

You sense Five walk into the room just as you are bending over in downward facing dog, your hands on the floor in front of you and your ass in the air. You can’t see his face, but when you look through your legs, you can see that he has stopped in the doorway. Then you watch as his polished black dress shoes cross over one another and he leans into the door frame. When you stand up and look over your shoulder you see him casually watching you with a wolfish grin.

“Please, don’t let me stop you,” he says, gesturing with his hand for you to continue. His shirt sleeves are uncuffed and rolled up his forearms as he crosses his arms over his chest in an air of superiority.

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “Is this what I have to do to get your attention these days? Bend over in tight pants?”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

You huff, turning away from him. “Well, I’m going to finish my workout, so either sit there quietly or go back to your office.”

“Alright, I will,” you hear him say as you get back to your routine.

Assuming he was talking about the latter of your two suggestions, you’re caught off guard when you see him cross over and sit down in one of the armchairs facing you.

“What are you doing?”

He shrugs with a smirk. “Sitting here quietly.”

Not really wanting to indulge him in whatever he’s up to, you turn away again with a loud sigh and move into another pose. There’s a few more minutes of balancing with your butt on display in Five’s direction, but he doesn’t say anything. Then you move onto the ground on your stomach, pushing the top half of your body up with your arms and looking towards the ceiling.

“So, what’s that one called?”

You sigh again. “Cobra. I thought you were supposed to be quiet.”

When you turn around again, your mouth opens in a partial gape as you watch Five in his chair. He is sitting with his legs splayed and his hand on the very prominent bulge in his crotch, eyeing you up like a hungry predator.

“I got your cobra right here, honey,” he says with a smile, and you can see he’s trying not to laugh at his stupid innuendo.

You try to hold in your own giggle but you can’t and you shake your head. “You’re disgusting.”

With another smart-ass grin, he pulls his tie off, discarding it on the floor. “No. Whipping out my dick and jerking off while watching you would be disgusting.”

Before you can make a comment, he starts doing exactly that; unbuckling his belt and unzipping the fly to his pants. He pushes them down far enough to expose his fully hard cock and he gives it a long stroke with his hand, all while keeping his eyes on you.

You should be disgusted. Or annoyed, at the very least. But, fuck, he looks hot sitting there with his sleeves rolled up and his hair flopping onto his forehead; thick cock in his hand. Your breath speeds up just a little and you swallow the pool of saliva that has collected in your mouth.

You clear your throat and flip your ponytail over your shoulder with a sly grin. “Well…you do what you want, I guess. I’m going to finish this workout.”

As you turn away, you decide you’re going to give him as good of a show as you can come up with. You get down on the ground in child’s pose, making sure to spread your knees out wide and push your ass back towards your heels while you splay your arms out in front of you in supplication. You can’t see him, but the thought of what he is doing while watching you is getting you wet and creating a damp spot in the crotch of your pants.

You are slow and deliberate with your movements, and you are back on your hands and knees, only this time you turn to face him. His breathing is louder as he shamelessly works his fist over his cock, running his thumb over the head and jerking his hips up. You can hear the wet slapping noises as his fingers spread the continuous flow of pre-cum over his shaft and he picks up the pace. One side of his mouth turns up as you look at him but he doesn’t slow his movements.

“Fuck, baby, keep going,” he breathes out.

With a breathy laugh you get back to it, pushing your ass up and arching your neck back in a cow pose. It gives him a nice view of your tits in your skimpy sports bra and you hear him let out a quiet grunt while he vigorously pleasures himself. When you flip around and push your hips towards the sky, legs spread wide in a bridge pose, you hear him moan softly.

Turning back over and staying on your hands and knees, you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes and start to crawl slowly towards him. His breath hitches in his throat when you stop between his legs, wetting your plump pink lips with your tongue and gazing up through a fan of dark lashes. Five lets out a long groan when you reach up and place your hand around his, guiding him as he slowly pumps his cock up and down.

“Do you want to fuck me, Daddy?” you ask as sweetly and innocently as possible.

Five lets out a growl through gritted teeth as he thrusts his hips up into the tight fist around his dick.

“Yes. Fuck, yes, I want to fuck you.”

You lean forward and run the flat of your tongue up the underside of his shaft, from base to tip, keeping your eyes on him until he closes his and leans his head back with a whine.

When you pull back, taking your hand with you, he looks back down at you with a deep crease between his dark brows as you start tracing one finger over the top of his thigh and sticking out your bottom lip.

“Five, I want nothing more than to feel your big, thick cock inside of me right now, but here’s the thing. Unless you get that gorgeous, brilliant head out of your ass and start making an effort to acknowledge me around here, I’m afraid that cobra of yours is going to get mighty lonely. Understand?”

Five lets out a disbelieving laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

You pout some more and then back away, shaking your head. “Sorry, baby. I’m very serious.”

Before you let him respond, your back is turned to him again and you’re bending over in an upside-down V shape while running a hand slowly over one ass cheek and down the back of your thigh.

“Fuck…” you hear him moan under his breath and you know you’ve got him. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice sounding just a tad on the pitiful side. “I will make an effort to pay attention to you more.”

You look at him through your legs again, watching him pout with his dick in his hand, and you smile. “No more slinking into your office the minute you get home and ignoring me?”

“No, I promise. No more.”

You love that he’s practically begging you now, desperate and panting as you tease him with your tight, round ass in front of his face. You press back a little more to accentuate it.

“Alright then, as long as you promise. Now, what was it that you wanted to do to me?”

In a literal flash, Five is behind you, pants falling to the ground and his hands on your hips, tugging you backward. You shriek as he slams his pelvis into your backside, his solid cock pushing between your clothed legs. He yanks you back up to standing with a hand wrapped around your ponytail, his breath hot on your neck as his low and deadly voice buzzes over your skin.

“On your hands and knees. Daddy’s going to fuck you now.”

With a pathetic moan that is partly due to the fact that you can’t help yourself when it comes to his demands, you drop to the floor on your hands and knees. He’s behind you again, tugging at the waistband of your pants and pulling them down your thighs. When you feel his fingers slip in between your legs, your body instinctively reacts by pressing backward onto his hand.

“Five…” you whine, your head hanging down as he pushes his fingers inside you. “Please…”

“What’s wrong sweetheart? I thought you wanted more attention from me.”

You thrust your hips back and forth, fucking his fingers while you moan and gasp like some kind of feral creature. When he pulls his hand away, you feel his wet fingers on your back as he pushes your torso towards the ground. He’s teasing you with his cock, rubbing his leaking head against your clit and through your folds until you can’t stand it anymore.

“Five!” you cry, your face pushed against the floor.

“Let me hear you, darling. Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me! Please!”

Five doesn’t hesitate for a second, slipping inside of you, pushing all of the way in until his hips are flush with your ass. He grips your waist tightly, holding you there while you squirm against him.

“Fuuuck…” he groans. “You know exactly how Daddy likes it.”

After a strong slap to your ass, Five starts fucking you hard and deep, driving into you with enough force that your body is propelled forward and you know you’re going to have rug burn on your arms and knees. But it doesn’t matter, because everything he is doing is exactly right. Each time he pounds into you, and you feel his thick cock filling you up, you cry out from how good it feels. Your pussy is soaking wet and throbbing with each thrust and you’re not sure how much more you can take.

He's breathing loud and hard behind you, a loud grunt accompanying each snap of his hips, hands firmly clutching your body; holding you steady while he pumps inside of you.

“Oh shit, you’re such a good girl for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you come on my cock,” he rasps.

With one expert move of his hand around the front of you, his fingers finding your clit and pressing into it hard, you yell out.

“Oh, god, Five! Yesss….oh fffuckk…I…I…oh shh…”

Your orgasm hits you hard and your fingers claw into the carpet beneath you, your knuckles white, and your body spasming uncontrollably against his. You continue moaning his name while he pounds into you a few more times before swearing loudly and exploding inside of you. You both stay like that, the muscles in your bodies tight and locked into position as your cries and whines soften and then subside. Soon, there is nothing but the ragged sound of your heavy breathing, and you feel him start to soften and pull out.

You both collapse onto the floor on your backs, chests heaving and shiny with sweat. When you look over at Five, you smile and then start laughing breathily.

“What’s so funny?” he smirks, turning his head to the side to look at you while he reaches down to pull up his pants.

You begin to pull up your own as you grin back at him. “You. If I had known all I needed to do to get your attention was stick my ass in your face, I would have done that weeks ago.”

Five chuckles and moves over next to you, propping his head up with one hand. He pushes a damp piece of hair off your face. “It definitely doesn’t hurt for you to do that, and I will always pay attention when that luscious ass is in my face. But I should have listened to you before. I’m sorry if you’ve felt ignored.”

“I just like spending time with you. I don’t mind you going off and doing whatever it is you do in there, but maybe sometimes include me too? You don’t have to shut me out of everything.”

He nods. “You’re right. And like I said, I promise I will stop from here on out.”

He leans down and kisses you while you run a hand through his soft hair. “I’m not sure why or how I love you as much as I do,” you sigh.

“Me either. But, god, am I glad you do.”

[inkspiredwriting]

Love, Hate, and the Hargreeves

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves had always been known for his sharp mind and sharper tongue. Y/N, his girlfriend, was no different. Their relationship was a fiery mix of love and playful antagonism, a dynamic that often left the rest of the Hargreeves family in stitches. Today was no exception.

The siblings had gathered in the living room of the Umbrella Academy, the air filled with the scent of popcorn and the sound of laughter. Klaus had found an old box of family videos and insisted on a movie night, much to everyone’s amusement.

Y/N and Five sat on the couch, bickering over which movie to watch.

“I’m telling you, Five, ‘The Princess Bride’ is a classic!” Y/N argued, holding the DVD case up for emphasis.

“And I’m telling you, Y/N, if I have to hear ‘As you wish’ one more time, I might throw myself into a time vortex,” Five retorted, rolling his eyes.

Diego snickered from his spot on the floor. “Ah, the sweet sound of true love.”

“Viktor,” Y/N pleaded, turning to him for support. “Back me up here. ‘The Princess Bride’ is timeless, right?”

Viktor smiled, enjoying the show. “It is, but watching you two argue is better entertainment.”

Luther, munching on a handful of popcorn, chimed in. “You know, Five, for a guy who’s been through the apocalypse, you’re surprisingly bad at picking battles.”

Five shot him a glare. “And for a guy who’s part gorilla, you’re surprisingly bad at shutting up.”

Klaus, sprawled out on the other couch, giggled. “Oh, leave them alone, Luther. This is their foreplay.”

Y/N and Five both turned a shade of red, but neither was willing to back down.

“Fine,” Five said, crossing his arms. “We’ll watch ‘The Princess Bride’. But if I start quoting it sarcastically, you have only yourself to blame.”

Y/N grinned triumphantly. “Deal. And for the record, if you don’t cry when Inigo Montoya gets his revenge, you’re heartless.”

Five smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. My heart’s in perfect working order. Unlike some people’s taste in movies.”

As the opening credits rolled, the siblings settled in, occasionally glancing at Five and Y/N, who were now sitting unusually close, sharing a bowl of popcorn. The movie played on, and true to his word, Five couldn’t resist a few sarcastic comments.

“‘My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’ Classic line,” Five deadpanned. “Really hits you in the feels.”

Y/N nudged him playfully. “Shut up and watch, smartass.”

Halfway through the movie, during the iconic fire swamp scene, Klaus leaned over to Diego, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Do you think they’re actually fighting, or is this some weird foreplay we don’t understand?”

Diego chuckled. “Given how they are, it’s probably both.”

Y/N threw a piece of popcorn at Klaus. “We can hear you, you know!”

Klaus caught it and popped it into his mouth. “Just saying, you two have the sexual tension of a rom-com.”

Five rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide a smirk. “And you have the brain of a goldfish, but we still keep you around.”

Laughter erupted, and even Y/N couldn’t help but join in. The teasing was relentless, but it was also filled with affection. The Hargreeves were a dysfunctional family, but they were a family nonetheless.

As the movie reached its climax, Five found himself genuinely engrossed. He glanced at Y/N, who was watching with a look of pure joy on her face. Despite their constant bickering, he loved seeing her happy.

The final scene played out, and as the credits rolled, Viktor turned to them, grinning. “So, how was it, Five? Are you a ‘Princess Bride’ fan now?”

Five shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

Y/N beamed. “I’ll take that as a win.”

Klaus jumped up, stretching dramatically. “Well, this was fun. Let’s do it again sometime. Preferably with more popcorn and less bickering.”

Diego smirked. “Less bickering? With these two? Not a chance.”

Five stood, pulling Y/N up with him. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s leave these amateurs to their popcorn.”

Y/N laughed, following him out of the room. “As you wish.”

The siblings burst into laughter again, and Five couldn’t help but smile. Their love/hate relationship might be a source of endless teasing, but it was also what made them, well, them.

As they walked down the hallway, Y/N slipped her hand into Five’s. “Thanks for watching the movie with me, Five.”

He squeezed her hand, his usual sarcasm softened by genuine affection. “Anytime, Y/N. Just don’t expect me to quote it back to you.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” she teased.

And with that, they continued down the hall, ready for whatever adventures and arguments lay ahead, knowing that as long as they had each other—and the Hargreeves’ relentless teasing—they could handle anything.

[parkersbliss]

Flustered | F. Hargreeves

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

[kaybreezy3000]

You never know what kind of trouble you might find if you put yourself out there and speak your mind, and tonight, that kind of trouble is Five Hargreeves.

~Set post season three. (the 5ish years later thing) Five is older, but still struggling with life and you happen to find yourself at a party with him.

~Title note: The saying 'keeping it under your hat' simply means, think it but don’t say it.

(9827 words)

~Rated Mature for sexual themes, but it's still full of other fun too so you can skip that part and pop back in at the end if you aren't into it.~ Warning for the full rated E/dirty stuff is marked with a ⚠️ then you can come back in after the next ⚠️

Warnings: explicit sexual content, rough sex, spanking, daddy kink, super mild humiliation play, and Five pretty much being the quirky, sweet, and sexy guy I like to think he is under that hat.

Under Your Hat

The living room of the apartment was packed with people, and you didn’t know most of them. If not for Lila and Diego insisting that you had to attend their baby reveal party, you would have been at home with your nose in a book.

You had become good friends with the couple since you had first met them, and it wasn’t that you didn’t want to be there. The problem was you had always been more of a wall-flower type and not one who thrived in loud crowds.

Feeling out of place and seeing your chance, you politely excused yourself from conversation you were pulled into about eyelash perms. You had nothing to add to that topic and looking around you as you escaped the group of Barbie look-alikes that enjoyed talking about all things them, you noticed that you weren’t the only one there who seemed to feel the way you did.

Diego’s brother appeared as unenthused as a person could be. He was standing there with one hand jammed in his front pant pocket as he stared at the drink in his hand with all the enthusiasm of a sloth taking a nap.

You had to smile at that.

Five Hargreeves clearly wasn’t having the time of his life, but when he unexpectedly looked up and busted you looking at him, you swore his lips tuned up just a little.

Damn.

You’d seen a few pictures of Five in the press but he was never happy in them. Now you could see that he could break hearts by deploying even the smallest smile, which apparently wasn’t something he did often because that small crack in his otherwise somber demeanor was the first you’d seen all night, and you’d know because since he arrived your eyes had felt magnetically drawn to him.

You couldn’t help it, and you could only blame that partly on all the things Diego and Lila had told you about him. Because of them, you knew all about the infamous Number Five and not just the things the public had been told. Five may have looked young again, but he was anything but a naïve college boy who was just starting out in life, and you found his story tragic but also fascinating.

You couldn’t help but admire him and how he looked in his perfectly tailored three-piece suit. All guys tended to look good when dressed to impress like he was, but somehow, he was making the look so innocently charming that it was making you feel inappropriately warm.

Shaking off the jittery feeling just his quick glance had given you, you moved over to the kitchen. The counter had two punch bowls sitting on it for guests to choose from. Selecting a scoop of the one you hadn’t tried yet; you filled your cup with the pink colored poison then continued maneuvering your way through the swarm of people.

Just as you were meandering over to a corner to hide in, Lila spotted you and called out, waving you over.

Here we go…

You had every intention of talking with them again before you left, but right then, almost their entire family were over there and…

Yeah.

You had heard about the Umbrella Academy and the Hargreeves since you were just a kid, and you loved Diego and Lila and their little boy, but that didn’t make it any less bizarre or intimidating being at such an intimate gathering with all of them. None of them looked like they did back in their glory days. Those famous kids wearing their fancy blue academy blazers and goofy shorts paired with their superhero masks were no more but to say you were still slightly awestruck was a gross understatement.

As you shyly approached, you heard Five snappily asking, “Do you have too many tabs open in your brain again, Lila?”

Lila snorted as she took you by the hand, pulling you into their fold.

“Sure, says the so-called genius who talks to himself and who's romantically involved with his hand,” she shot back, then took a second to introduce you to her verbal sparring partner since you’d already met the rest of the family when you got there.

Five’s eyes narrowed a tad as he took you in, then his expression warmed with his dimpled smile as he extended his hand and casually introduced himself.

When your skin touched his, you felt a strange spark-like sensation that left you with quick quivering aftershocks as if you’d just picked up too much static. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stifle the small squeak that came out of you from the sensation of it, and there was no mistaking the devious look in Five’s eyes over your reaction.

Then, as if he hadn’t just intentionally done something to you, with his soft looking lips still quirked up, Five looked back at Lila and coolly said, “To get back to addressing your needless concerns about what I do with my free time, of course, I am good with my hands and talking to myself. That is not news. I am a survivor and I take care of my business and always have. And further, sometimes I need an export opinion and I sure as hell won’t be getting it from any of you idiots, so just back off.”

“Urgh,” Lila protested. “There he goes again saying we are all idiots. Diego, my idiot, my love, Why did we invite him again? Oh yeah, because Five has no social life, which is exactly my point.”

Diego obviously heard her, but he continued messing around on his phone, rearranging the songs on his playlist rather than joining their argument.

Towering over everyone but looking meek as a kitten, Luther awkwardly cleared his throat. “She’s not wrong, Five. Perhaps it is time to spread your wings and fly.”

“And when did you do that again?” Five hissed. “Not until you were twenty-nine!”

Clearly you had stumbled into a conversation that wasn’t meant for your ears, but you had a pretty good idea of what they were talking about because Diego had told you that Five was very reclusive. You couldn’t really blame him for that, not with him being in an extremely complicated situation that would make starting any kind of new relationship very hard. Telling people the truth about his life would never be easy and from what you could see, most people didn’t seem interested in breaking the ice with the standoffish ex-temporal assassin anyway.

As you were mentally questioning if it was just because Five gave off the don’t fuck with me vibe, or if it was just the very little people did know of him that kept them away, Klaus reached over and squeezed Five on the arm as he said, “Don’t worry, man. I get it. We all do, it’s just-"

Five looked like he might bite his brother’s hand off if he didn’t remove it. “No, you don’t get it," he interrupted, "and I said drop it with your hippy guru therapy shit.”

Lila tisked and Five looked at her then rolled his eyes so far back that you thought they might get lost inside his head. She smacked Diego. “Hey! Back us up. Your brother is being a bore as usual and as much as much as I hate the pervy little muppet, I have had enough of his brooding.”

Totally distracted or maybe just still pretending to be, Diego slammed the rest of his drink, then went back to mouthing lyrics as he bobbed his head to the bass thumping rap music he’d just put on.

Taking a long drink of your own beverage, you mulled over what you were seeing and hearing.

Lila often spoke of Five with a distaste, but you could tell that under all her condemnation there was a fondness there built on things only they could understand. She cared about him, and the feeling had to be mutual otherwise she wouldn’t be bothering with him and Five wouldn’t have come in the door an hour ago with a huge stuffed animal for their son and an equally big gift covered in yellow and green wrapping paper for their unborn child that you were all there to honor.

Seeing as Diego was still ignoring her, and Five shut down his other two brothers, Lila tried again, which again proved that her meddling wasn’t just for the fun of fucking with him, though it seemed she was enjoying that too, especially since you’d come over.

“Five, all I am saying is, sometimes you’re the bird and sometimes you’re the statue. Stop being the statue that all the happy carefree free birds crap on,” she metaphorically explained. “You’d look better without all their shit mucking up that sour face of yours. Lighten up and maybe try hitting on someone not made of plastic.”

Your eyes popped as she looked over and grinned.

What?

Plastic? Did she mean like the Babies girls over there and their fake tits and lip fillers?

Shaking his head as he pulled a hand back through his hair, Five huffily sighed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Dolores and I have moved on. And as much as your hairbrained logic proves my point about your questionable brain function, I’m sorry, I have to go. You’re boring me to death and my survival instincts are kicking in.”

Just like that, to your dismay, the most interesting person there started to walk away, but then Diego jumped in, holding up a finger for him to wait. He sprinted off to a closet by their front hall. When he came back a few seconds later, he dumped a fedora on his younger looking brother’s head.

“There, buddy,” Diego happily exclaimed as Five apprehensively glanced up at the brim of the gray hat. “We have been meaning to give this to you. The old guy who used to live here left a bunch of weird shit behind. It fits your grumpy grandpa style and Lila said you used to wear one just like it.”

Five took off the hat, blankly looking at it.

Verbally jabbing him even more, Lila said, “This really does complete your stick up your arse look and I am sure it will be a big hit with the ladies.”

Not sure what got into you as you watched Five’s face becoming more and more troubled, you rapidly blurted, “It’s true. I think it makes you look very sexy.”

Looking about as surprised as you over that coming out of your mouth, Five slowly placed the hat back on his head, then he proceeded to slam the rest of his drink and go back to staring at the empty cup rather than acknowledge your compliment or his family who were now conspiratorially looking between the two of you as they sniggered like a bunch of shithead schoolgirls.

Seeing as Five was choosing to withdraw even after you’d acted totally out of character and hit on him in front of everyone, Diego gently elbowed him in the side and said, “Earth to Five. Maybe you’d have better luck picking up a date if you pulled your head out of your ass and tried to be nice for once.”

Jaw working as if he was thinking very hard about something, Five’s deeply expressive eyes suddenly flipped up, meeting yours for just a moment before he looked back at Diego, and scowled. “First, it was a stick up there, and now you say it’s my head. “What’s with you weridos and things in my ass?”

They had ganged up on him, but there he was, defiantly standing there with that silly hat perched on his chocolate-colored mane while he was being all grumbly but somehow doing it while sounding more adorable and looking more handsome than anyone you had ever seen.

To add to your night of doing embarrassing things, glancing down at Five’s rather nice butt, he busted you again and so did Lila. Her snort of a laugh over your indiscretion was the moment you couldn’t hold it in anymore and you started cracking up too, almost choking on your drink when Klaus declared, “Looks like we aren’t the only ones obsessing over your cute ass, Fivey. It’s a force to be reckoned with.”

For some reason the predatory look Five was offering you only made your fit of giggles worse. His ass was very cute and he was owning that ridiculous hat and then some, and damn did he look good when he was mad.

He slowly licked his lips. That openly hungry look in his pale green eyes aimed directly at you and it made you shiver even though the temperature in the room felt like it had suddenly become volcanically warm.

Did the air just get sucked out of the room?

Your skin prickled. 

You stopped laughing and your mouth snapped shut.

Of course, this is when Lila and Diego had suddenly become engaged with a few of their guests that had just come in, and Luther was also talking with someone else, and Klaus had gotten pulled away. You were quickly feeling very out of place again. Not sure what to say, you tried to move away, but Five snatched you by the wrist as you tried to pass.

“Do you think I’m going to let you laugh at me and get away with it?” His words came out with a razor sharp edge to them, and at first you didn’t know what to say and he clearly knew he had you totally flustered based on his haughty smirk.

“I wasn’t laughing at you because of what your family was saying. I think they were being a bit harsh but it’s only because they care,” you nervously explained.

“Oh, really? Why were you laughing then?”

You swore your cheeks must have been glowing they were so hot as you answered with your partial lie. “I laughed because I think the things you say are hilarious. I love a man with a dry sense of humor.”

Five’s fingers tickled the underside of your wrist. His smile grew bigger as he flashed his perfect white teeth. “I am gathering that you’ve heard all sorts of things about me and yet you still think I am sexy? You think I am funny when I am being a dick and you evidently like looking at my ass… Is that right or did I miss something?”

He raised a brow at you.

“Er...”

After giving that very articulate answer, you figured you might as well die right then and there and Five looked no less amused by that.

The fact that he was trapping you and he was a very dangerous man hadn’t escaped your attention. The way he was looking at you and the way he was blocking your path were making that even more evident, but then he brought your hand to his mouth and threw you for a loop when he gently kissed the top of it.

You didn’t know what to say but Five didn’t seem to mind as he confidently added, “Despite the things they say about me, being good friends with your hand simply makes me aware of how to use it, and believe me, I know how to use them both and not just on myself.”

Five pulled you closer, his lips moving to your ear as he set his cup down on the small end table next to you.

“Since you seem so interested, I love to show you what I can do.” His hand tightened around yours. “To start, I could be a gentleman and save you from this party you seem to be enjoying so much. I could gallantly escort you out of here and we could get to know each other a little better, somewhere a little quieter…”

Gulp.

Did he really just say that?

Five’s smile turned sweetly innocent again and his eyes sparkled with mischief. “By that, of course I mean, I could buy you a coffee and we could take a nice friendly hand-in-hand stroll through the park, or we could do something equally as enjoyable. My attitude doesn’t have to be the only reason I yell and roll my eyes in the back of my head.”

He winked and your heart skipped a beat.

You couldn’t believe your ears. Five started to pull away.

“So? What do you think? Are you game?” he questioned.

Just then, Klaus came running through, flipping over the back of the couch before tackling Five.

“You can’t leave yet!” he yelled as Five went flying into the back of the chair behind him.

The crowd moved back but it was too late for you and the bowl of chips that went airborne.

Though smaller than his brother, Five was visibly not out matched and he could give two shits about going off on Klaus in front of everyone. Five surged at Klaus, shoving him back but Klaus leaped back up almost as fast as he took a nosedive. He launched himself again, this time frazzling Five’s hair into a fuzzy looking tangled nest but Five disappeared in a flash of blue then reappeared and nailed him in the gut with his knee. 

Klaus curled in on himself but not before snatching the gray fedora off Five’s head. Then wheezing with laughter, he smacked Five in the butt then ran away yelling something extremely mature that sounded a lot like, ‘Na-na na-na boo-boo, can’t catch me I’m the ghost whispering gingerbread man!’

You wiped a hand down your wet face and looked down at your shirt that just got splashed with the high-octane blue beverage Klaus had been holding and accidentally tossed during his ambush.

With his back to you still as he looked in the direction Klaus had run off in, Five angrily breathlessly panted, “Sometimes I really hate that asshole.”

His hands came up, threading through his messy hair, then they ran down his rumpled vest before he straightened his silk tie. He started to turn back your way saying, “The jellyfish has existed as a species for 500 million years, surviving just fine without a brain, so that gives me…” Five’s mouth stopped moving when he saw you, “-that gives me hope for- Him. Shit…” He started yanking his hair again. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Gone was that foxy smile and the smooth talker that seemed to know just how to push all your buttons. Five was fiddling with his hands at his sides like he didn’t know what to do or say now that the moment between you had been interrupted.

Just as you were about to assure him that it was nothing and you were fine, Luther and Diego came over yelling something about them acting like children. Seeing that Five was engaged with yelling back at them, you quickly hurried off to the bathroom.

As you entered Lila and Diego’s bedroom and beelined it for their private bathroom, you couldn’t believe that had just happened or how much Five had gotten to you.

Looking down at your nearly empty drink sitting on the counter, then at your sticky face in the mirror, you laughed at yourself.

In your head, you had already convinced yourself that you were reading it all wrong. There was no way Five was hitting on you, not when there were about a million other better options of people to flirt with out there in this world, not to mention in that apartment.

You were super buzzed enough to let your eyes wander places they shouldn’t and your alcohol loosened lips said some very forward things and he was just messing with you because of it, or maybe even trying to be nice since his family had been drilling him so hard about it.

Sure… Nice wouldn’t be alluding to the things he was, but still. There was no way someone like Five Hargreeves was trying to get with someone like you.

Was there?

Out in the living room, unbeknownst to you, Five had finished telling Luther and Diego to fuck off then he broke away from the crowd.

When he reached his brother’s bedroom door and found Klaus was lying across their bed, he glared bitterly. “Someday I am going to blink you to Antarctica and leave you there.”

Klaus just laughed. “Awww, sorry about that, Lil’ brosnap. I didn’t see who you were talking to. I just thought you were bailing, and I didn’t want you to go yet.” He lazily tossed the stolen gray hat up in the air and purposely nodded towards the door next to the bed.

Glancing that way, Five could see the light pouring out from under the door.

Hearing you talking on your phone inside, he looked at Klaus, shaking an admonishing finger at him. “Thanks to you, she is probably in there calling a cab. She probably wants to get away from me and this moronic family as fast as possible!”

Just as Klaus was about to open his mouth, Five brought a finger up to his lips, wordlessly shushing him. Klaus grinned wider as he twirled the old hat on his finger.

Five came in further, and Klaus loudly whispered, “That’s it. You got this, buddy. She is so wet over your cute little old man ways. Go get her!”

Five stomped over, stealing his new hat from him, then smashed it down on his head.

“She’s wet because you spilled on her!” he snarled, while ignoring whatever else Klaus was suggesting with his dirty hand gestures.

Five silently made his way over to the bathroom door again, raising his hand to knock but paused midair and turned. “Get the fuck out!” he angrily whispered.

Looking thrilled as ever, Klaus jumped up and skipped back out to rejoin the party.

Five took a deep breath. “Here goes nothing, old man.” He quickly readjusted his hat and softly knocked on the yellowed paint covering the wooden barrier in front of him.

He’d hardly pushed on the door, but to both your surprise, the old latch gave and the next thing you knew, you were standing there, with your shirt unbuttoned halfway down and Five staring at you with wide eyes and a rapidly gaping jaw.

“Fuck,” he cursed as you clung to the washcloth you were using to clean yourself while you also clumsily tried to close your shirt, but it was too late, he’d seen your goods and his face looked absolutely stunned from the sight.

“Oh my God this is embarrassing,” you moaned as you turned around, still trying to right yourself.

You were sure Five was going to turn around and walk away and you’d never see his captivating features looking so adorably flustered ever again, but then he stepped inside.

You looked up at his reflection staring back at you through the mirror and that look of shock was replaced by something else entirely menacing.

Five appeared right behind you a second later in a flash of bluish light and you jolted in astonishment over it. You knew about his powers. He’d even given you a tiny taste of what he had inside him when you shook his hand, but you’d never seen it or felt what it was like to have a teleporter’s electrified touch tease your skin by merely flexing his strength that close to you.

Your heart raced.

“Holy shit, you scared me,” you gasped.

Five smiled.

“Sorry. I couldn’t resist.” His answer came out so close, his breath tingling the fine hairs on the back of your neck as it cascaded down, making your thighs tense with aching want.

You swallowed thickly, then said, “I thought the door was locked. I- I-ah…”

“I am glad it wasn’t.”

Through the mirror his gaze shamelessly moved down your body before meeting your questioning eyes again.

“I was going to come in here and apologize for what happened out there,” he said, his words quiet and steady, a stark contrast from the torrents of butterflies that were making it feel like you might start quivering all over from him simply being so close. “That was no way for me to treat a lady I was trying to seduce.”

So much for those butterflies staying in their net.

“Wha-what?” you stammered.

“I may look like I am doing nothing while I am awkwardly trying to navigate social situations like this, but in my head, I have been quite busy. The last hour I have been trying to figure out how to approach you. I came to drop off my gifts, but you are the reason I stayed this long.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” he laughed, and you felt the back of his wool pants brush against your leg. “And it turns out Lila wasn’t wrong this time,” he furthered. “I heard so many things about you, but nothing could prepare me for your timeless beauty, or how your mouth moves without your consent because then I get to hear your unfiltered thoughts while your cheeks become as pink as your kissable looking lips.” His eyes lowered to those lips. “In my last relationship one could say I got lost inside my own head, so I am not good at this kind of thing, and I appreciate your candor. If you hadn’t said what you did, I would have never had the balls to speak to you.”

The points of his shoes moved into view next to yours.

“You made it easy for me and the math is really simple. First, add the bed, then subtract the clothes, and hope we don’t multiply. That’s how this is supposed to go, right?”

You rapidly blinked.

“I am just kidding…well, sort of,” he teased. “I know this is fast but speaking of honesty and saying what’s on your mind. I am dying to kiss you. Can I?” he softly questioned.

Without even thinking you whispered back a yes.

Five’s arm began to slip around you and his warm lips hit your shoulder. This was not the kiss you were expecting, but then again, you weren’t facing him and nothing about Five was what you were expecting.

“Do you like this?” he asked against your neck while you fell back into him.

“I do,” you quietly replied as Five applied a barrage of super soft kisses from behind and he tightened his hold.

Not letting up on his affections, he continued tickling you with his lips as the thrum of the song that had just come on rattled the walls in the tiny bathroom.

Was this happening?

Thinking nothing other than you didn’t want this to stop, your hands came up, reaching behind you as your fingertips slid along the crown of Five’s hat, lightly holding him to you.

For someone that supposedly didn’t get out much or date, you were thinking that Five was very good at this seduction thing. Then his hands at your waist loosened and your eyes flit back open the moment his magical lips detached from your skin.

He was watching you with a peculiar sort of expression. You were not sure what you were seeing. You could almost imagine his clever green eyes, slightly more crinkled in the corners, and his sharp jaw, all still the same but different as he aged and someday again became the person he was on the inside.

He was a contradiction of outward behavior and his young face under that old man’s hat had you wanting him in ways that were all sorts of wrong.

“You really do like this hat, don’t you?” he teased as your fingers latched onto the brim again then moved down to the silky ends of his hair that was flipped out boyishly behind his ears.

“I do,” you admitted as you ran your fingernails into his scalp.

⚠️(naughty part starting)

Five let out the sweetest sound of joy over the feel of you touching him, then his body pressed up behind you and you immediately felt the heat of his arousal pressed between your butt cheeks.

Your brain did a somersault, and your mouth went off again. “I mean, I was going to say that- Ah… That you look very nice one way or another, hat or no hat. I should have clarified out there but then I felt stupid for saying anything and then I got all wet and…”

Totally losing your mind and your confidence, you dropped your hands in front of you again, twisting them anxiously.

Five’s smile deepened. “For starters, I had been thinking of grabbing coffee and taking you on a get to know you better date, but now with you writhing your beautiful body all over me, you’ve got me thinking I need to get you even more wet before we can get out of here and do that. Will you let me touch you a little more?” he calmly replied, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly slid his hands over the planes of your stomach, then down over the curves of your waist where he took your hands under his and brought them between your legs.

It felt like you were having an outer body experience.

When you didn’t answer, Five started to pull away and you reactively laced your fingers between his, keeping him attached to you as your body melted back into his like you were two puzzle pieces always meant to be put together.

As you slowly moved your hand in his over your need, there was no denying that you wanted him or that he wanted you, not with how his eyes blithely closed and reopened just as hypnotically as his uttered wishes rolled off his tongue. “Will you let me pleasure you, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart?

You whimpered and closed your own eyes to another one of his feather light kisses moving along your throat.

Five nuzzled his face against your skin, humming in appreciation as he brushed your hair aside and ran his lips over every inch of you that he could get at. The shell of your ear was captured between his lips, his teeth running along the length.

Unwilling and unable to stop this anymore than Five was, you snuck a hand behind you, giving his belt a tug so he poked you from behind hard enough to make your smile brighten with renewed confidence.

Thinking of his impressive erection and the scandal over the fact that the bathroom door was still cracked open, you started to rub your ass back into him very deliberately.

“Oh, fuck, the things I want to do to your sweet ass,” he huskily breathed as his fingers dug into your hips almost painfully.

“Do it then,” you challenged.

“I am going to make it impossible for you to forget me. You’ll be ruined for anyone else when I’m done with you,” Five darkly warned.

“I am not scared,” you purred back, and to that, Five gave a quick huff of a laugh and a not so soft nip on your shoulder in reprimand for your white lie. “It’s okay if you are scared. You’d be foolish not to be.”

After that matter of fact comment, Five contentedly sucked on your earlobe as his hands slid down your thighs, kneading them as he worked your skirt up.

Your barely contained sighs as you repeatedly drove your bottom back against his dick were letting him know you weren’t deterred by his warning, but to your dismay, Five abruptly pulled away again.

Almost right away your mouth opened with a flood of complaints.

“No, Five! Come back!” You had just whined so pathetically that you instantly wanted to hide your face but Five wouldn’t let you. His hand came up, forcing your chin back up so you had to look at him.

Looking happy as ever, Five then nudged his new hat up just a little, making him look even more unbelievably attractive now that it was sitting crooked. "Damn. You’re already a fluttering mess for me,” he said followed by a quick laugh. “You want daddy to do very bad things to you, don’t you, naughty girl.”

“No, I don’t!” you shot back and Five smirked even more at your fake look of indignation.

“Beg for it,” he commanded.

Of course, to that, you said nothing and tried to lay it on thicker, sulking even more as you carefully worked your ass back along his shaft despite his lame attempt to hold you off.

“Admit that you have been undressing me with your eyes ever since I walked in the door,” he taunted.

“I was not.”

“You are begging to be punished for these blatant lies,” he coarsely breathed against the back of your neck as he aggressively kneaded his palm over your bottom.

Undeterred by your refusal to give in, Five began urging you to lean over with one of his hands pushing down on your upper back. When you obediently did as he wished, he pulled his hand off you, bringing it back only a second later with a burning slap delivered to your left ass cheek.

Eyes peeled wide, you looked back at him through the mirror, pretending to be appalled, but you cracked quickly enough, smiling back cheekily as you said, “Uh-oh, looks like daddy is mad at me."

At first Five looked surprised by what you'd said but then just as quickly, he pursed his lips and shrugged. “I’m not mad, sweetheart, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences for you not confessing how much you want me to fuck you. Almost from the start I knew there was a very bad girl hiding underneath that coy smile of yours.”

Five gave your ass cheek another swift spank. This time it was harder, the blooming sting hitting you both where his hand had just been and between your legs where the fresh flood of your desire leaked hotly onto your panties.

“You’re a dirty girl who wants daddy to fuck you hard. Say it.”

You didn’t, so he did it again. As Five’s hand made contact your body reactively dropped lower and your head thunked against the countertop as a soft moan of desperation crawled out of your mouth.

“You can hardly contain yourself,” Five mocked as he fingers lightly traveled from behind then down over your underwear. As he felt the moist heat he’d caused, Five let out the most filthy sound of approval.

He had called it. You may be a closeted naughty girl but Five Hargreeves was evidently not all he appeared to be either and not in the way you thought.

Flipping your hair and angling your head up, you breathlessly licked the drool from your lips then said, “I can take whatever you’ve got. Give me more if you think you’ve got it in you.” To add to that, one of your high heels lifted and rubbed against Five’s ankle.

Seeming to mentally pause over your comment that was meant to provoke him, Five massaged his hand over the spot he’d just slapped. With the blood raised to the surface of your skin, it almost felt like too much with him just doing that but somehow, compared to you, he still looked mostly unmoved.

You were quickly realizing that Five could be unbelievably tender, but something in him craved submission, which was fine by you but you knew there was only so long before someone came in there and this titillating game of foreplay couldn’t last forever.

Probably realizing the same thing, pulling you back upright, Five leaned into your ear again. “Don’t worry, I got it in me, honey. I am just waiting to hear the right words,” he assured, as he gave your side a fresh tickle while also letting his fingers on his other hand mosey inside your slightly open blouse.

Five’s fingers grazed your round mounds of flesh that were already moving up and down heavily thanks to the coil of need inside you that was building to a point it felt like it could burst at any moment. As his fingers threaded along your nipples another kittenish sigh filled the small room.

“Ah, fuck, I wanted you from the moment I saw you,” you frantically moaned. “Please fuck me, Five.”

Just as something slammed into the wall from the other side, you noticed that for the first time Five looked hesitant, but then his breath tensely pulled in and he said, “Fuck it.” He cocked his head at you and grinned. “Hold on tight. I’m not stopping until you’re crying out my name.”

Right then, the 80’s pop song playing ended and a more club type of music started to play, thumping bass through the speakers in the living room loud enough to shake the floor under your feet.

All at once, you lifted your body and grasped the back of Five’s neck as you pulled his face against yours. Trying your best to kiss him, you rolled your body against his to the beat.

He smelled so good, something between fresh air and a spicy rich scent you couldn’t name. His body molded to yours as you moved together in a way you knew someone as reserved as him wouldn’t be doing if you were doing this dance in front of everyone else.

Five rapidly rewarded your efforts to get more of him with his own frantic kisses moving along your jaw as you began massaging your fingers through his soft hair. With his chin, Five worked your collar down while he pushed his hips into you, undulating them to the music.

While he had you occupied with his gyrating dance moves, he shoved his foot back, kicking the bathroom door closed. No sooner was that done, than he had one hand lifting the hem of your skirt again so he could slide it inside the front of your underwear.

Your breath hitched as your body twisted from the abrupt contact of his diligently circling fingers.

His words buzzed in between kisses and him humping your ass.“Do you want to dance with me, or fuck me, sweetheart?” 

You gave him the only answer you could because it was true. “Both”

Pushing him along, you leaned over and gripped the counter in a way that you knew would look very encouraging.

Five kept close, moving right along with you, fingering you with his arm around your front, but he also started tearing at his belt with his other hand, opening it and his pants as fast as he possibly could. Once freed, his pants fell to the floor, the metal of his belt hitting the tiles with a sharp clank.

With that done, Five yanked your underwear down and out of the way. Though you were being dominated by his brilliant finger fucking, you managed to shimmy the lace down the rest of the way, kicking out of the tiny garment once it hit your heels.

No sooner had you done that than Five brought his slicked fingers around your backside, and with no word of warning, he moved two fingers inside you from the back. Just as fast, you were making the most scandalous sounds of consent over the forceful act and how perfectly he was hooking his fingers.

To make it all the better, you could hear Five angrily fisting his erection as he grated out his next words. “I need to be inside you, right now. Just like this. Is that okay?”

To answer his question, you bent just a bit more, inviting him to take what he wanted. Five dipped forward rubbing the tip of dick between your cheeks. The precum seeping out of him brushed down your entire crack as if to scramble your brain even more with the question of which hole he had meant when he said, 'just like this' and 'is this okay.'

The angle was perfect for both one way or another, the counter height just right, and you could even see his beautiful face in the mirror in front of you. Now all he needed to do was take what was already his no matter how he decided to take it. You didn’t care anymore, that was how much this man had broken you.

Only letting out a small noise of complaint when he removed his fingers from inside you, Five was quick to replace them. Shuffling closer with his pants around his polished shoes, and one hand on your hip, Five slid the heavy tip of his cock across your swollen folds.

You tensed slightly when he began pushing inside.

Feeling that, Five’s throat hummed with something pained sounding and he slowed himself.

Your body fought against his as he gradually sunk deeper, everything feeling more intense with him taking you from behind. Your soft sighs as he continued penetrating you were each met with his own hissing curses.

“This feels… Fffff- Oh fuck you feel so good,” he spat.

His praise wasn’t coming out very eloquent compared to his normally more well thought out orations, but considering it felt like he just drove his dick all the way through to your belly button, that was apparently all he had, and you could hardly speak a single syllable or a vowel any better to explain what you were feeling.

Once fully encircled by your heat, while you were lost in how deep he was, Five wasted no time jerking your hips back to him so he could bury himself all over again.

That time he bottomed out on one shove.

“Aaahh-ffffmmm!” you loudly moaned as your hands searched for purchase on the smooth countertop and several bottles of toiletries tipped and rolled into the sink.

“Fuck me. I think my dick just entered the gates of Heaven on Earth,” Five groaned, and you couldn’t help but shakily laugh at that and the completely wrecked face he was making.

Also feeling lightheaded with lust, peering up at him through the mirror, you gave him something else to think about. “I knew my tight pussy would ruin you for anyone else…honey.”

Looking all at once shaken by your garish comment that mimicked his, Five then shocked you when his grip loosened on your waist and his hand reconnected with your ass so hard your legs nearly gave out.

“Such a bad girl,” he growled back with his nostrils flaring but he looked so fucking hot in his near manic state that it and his debasing treatment only made you even more lost in the insanity of the moment and painfully delicious pleasure he was giving you.

“Oh, yes, da-ddy…please, just like that, doh-don’t st-op,” you loudly pleaded with him to keep fucking you just like he was, all the while hoping the music was enough to prevent anyone hearing your sputtered cries.

And just like he’d said, Five didn’t stop.

He slapped and groped, again and again as his cock moved in and out with a carefully calculated cadence. You buried your head against your arm to stifle your moans. Just the sound of his hips thwacking against your butt each time he threw his cock into you was enough to make it feel like you’d lost touch with reality.

Your eyes crashed closed as everything around you disappeared but you and him.

Five reached around your waist so he could play with your clit again and almost instantly, your legs started trembling and that only made him work his hand harder.

“Ffffffff-iiiive!”

His breath hitched with each determined thrust as he disjointedly said, “That’s- Right. Say. My. Name!”

"Oh, fuck yes, Five! Ffffuucc-" Your words were cut off by another obscene sounding whimper.

You were about to double over. The blessing of warmth crashed down around you, your entire body feeling like it could burst as you fell over the edge with pulsing waves of pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you breathed in-between Five’s cock sliding in and out of you as your ass continued to get wildly bounced off his powerful hips.

Having taken care of you, Five withdrew his fingers from between your legs, then he gripped you by the hair tugging you up.

Even though you could hardly stand, let alone think straight as your body continued to spasm around his cock, you swiftly complied, angling your head back, as you arched your body against his punishing hold.

This new angle changed things up dramatically and not in a bad way. Five’s cock was filling you, the rounded tip sliding in and out and catching just right. You held your breath as you savored the feeling of him taking complete control of your body.

Your droopy eyes could hardly stay open but every time you tried to close them, Five would tug your hair. “Look at me,” he demanded.

He all but lifted your weight off the floor so he could angle his hips up and down even more, which quickly had you shuddering all over again and showering him with dizzying rambles of praise.

“You are so- So…fuck-ing amazing, Ffff-ivvve. Fu-ah-ah-kkkkk!”

He grunted his agreement, then let go of your waist as he started feverishly trying to get his hands on your breasts. Frustrated that your shirt was preventing him from getting at all of you, he suddenly ripped it the rest of the way open. The buttons flew everywhere, but neither of you so much as flinched as they scattered around your feet.

Having got what he wanted, Five kept at it, fervently grinding myself up against your ass as he massaged and pinched your nipples with his hands shoved under the cups of your bra.

Watching your reflections in the mirror, his darkened eyes felt like they could see right through to your soul. Speaking softly next to your ear, he spoke his next words between low bitten off groans. “I’m not- Stopping. Until you- Ca-um again.”

Even though you had not objected, that didn't prevent Five from digging in the sharp points of his teeth into your shoulder until you breathed the word please, over and over.

Even having just climaxed twice already, and without his hand stimulating your clit, you were close again. You started to shake, your legs turning to jelly with each violent jolt of his hips.

Not sure if you could stay on your feet, you tried to reach for the counter, but Five wouldn’t let you go. He kept at it, tightly detaining you so he could keep plowing into you from behind.

The second you were lost in orgasmic bliss again, he gave in, finally seeking his own release, and it only took a moment more for him to find it.

Five let out a vibration of hummed contentment that danced softly along your neck. He sounded as beautiful as he looked as his cock throbbed and his hot seed filled you, then started to drip down your legs and onto the floor. His thighs kept flexing as he shoved his entire length in and out but his hips gradually lost rhythm.

⚠️(naughty part end)

In between labored breaths Five was doing his best to pepper your shoulders with kisses, though it was sweetly sloppy compared to the way he’d been making a study of treasuring you before.

Despite Five’s seemingly heartless and self-absorbed ways, you were totally falling for this and that was because he was anything but that person he tried to make others see. Five was extremely attentive and loving and you were thinking about that truth when you realized the bass thumping music had been turned way down.

Footsteps were loudly clomping down the hallway leading to the master bedroom.

Your eyes darted towards the door.

Luther called out, “They aren’t in here!”

Not even a half a second later, while a very dazed Five was still slowly undulating his hips and lethargically clinging to you, the door burst open.

“AHHH!” Luther loudly cried.

Both his hands flew up covering his eyes like it would somehow change what he’d just seen.

“So not cool! I- I just saw your bare ass, Five!" he rambled, his jaw opening and closing, the noises coming out, but he couldn’t come up with anything else coherent until he stammered, “We didn’t know where you guys went. We thought maybe something was wrong.”

“Klaus knew where the hell we were,” Five quickly shot back, then languidly kissed your neck where he’d bitten it numerous times, then he looked at his brother in the mirror and much more calmly added, “Luther…shut-the-door.”

Trying to listen to his older but younger looking brother, Luther dropped one hand and blindly started searching for the door. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to open the door,” he repeated as he failed to find the knob because he wasn’t letting himself see more than the floor right at his feet.

He appeared to be too scared to step inside to reach for it.

Carefully slipping his length out of you, Five flipped your skirt down, then he reached for his own pants and underwear, pulling them both back up. He didn’t waste time zipping up or fastening his belt because he’d suddenly found it more important to find something to cover your destroyed shirt; the one you were now forced to hold shut manually.

You didn’t even have your underwear. They were over just in front of the door by Luther’s feet, which was probably also why he was too stunned to move. At least you were mostly covered; your bra hid most everything explicit from his eyes, and Five’s body collapsing into yours had covered the rest. Now everything was mostly put away, so you weren’t sure what Luther was freaking out about or hiding from.

Five took a towel from the shelf next to the shower and handed it to you. At that point, you could have cared less one way or another if you had it, but you took it and beamed back at Five, wiping up the mess he’d made of you while also trying not to crack up at the stern look he was giving you for not covering your boobs.

He mouthed for you to cover yourself and you tried not to laugh at how serious he was trying to sound while saying it but it was a total failure and you laughed anyway.

While unfolding the towel in front of your tattered shirt you said, “Well, now I am both wet and super sticky and my chances of finding anyone as amazing as you are destroyed. I guess you accomplished all your goals, Five. I am absolutely ruined.”

Luther glanced out from under his hand for about half a second and Five raised one of his dark brows and the smile he was trying to hold back came out in full.

“Is- Is everything okay?” his brother questioned. Luther looked thoroughly appalled. The poor guy didn’t seem to know how to process this.

When he didn’t leave, and seemed to be waiting for confirmation that everything was fine, Five sighed and smacked his hand away from his eyes, offering him a cavalier looking grin as he said, “Luther, the lock is broken so it wasn’t your fault the door opened when you touched it, and I am a grown-up just like you, and as such, I have needs, which is why I just got my fuck on in Diego and Lila’s shitty bathroom. I would have thought what you saw cleared up any questions you had about what is going on in here, but just in case it didn’t, take a good look at the hard-on I’m still sporting. Turns out, I finally met a real, non-plastic girl that already knows what kind of man I am, and for some reason she likes me anyway. I am smitten with her, and I don’t care who knows it. Now get the fuck out!”

After Five read Luther the riot act, Klaus sauntered in, joining the party. He whistled loudly as he strolled around the doorframe, grinning at you both like an idiot.

“Ye-ah buddy, way to go, Fivey!” he cheered. “You know what they say, carpe diem and all that shit!”

Seeing as Five was not willing to hit up his high five, Klaus waved at you as if you weren’t already aware he was there.

You waved back, feeling your face getting hotter.

“Did Fivey thoroughly plunder you or do you guys need a few more minutes to finish?” he questioned with his eyes moving from yours, down to the front of Five’s pants. “I see Five is still a go in that department, so I suppose we can put off the party games a bit longer if need be.”

Five still hadn't covered himself and the prominent boner he’d already mentioned was still making its glorious presence known. Like out in the living room, realizing he wasn’t going to back down, you said, “No worries. I think I’m thoroughly plundered for the time being, and I’m pretty sure your brother is just still riled up. We will be right out.”

Klaus bit his bottom lip as he nudged Luther. “Our little psycho is finally growing up. Can you believe it?” Klaus’s voice cracked as he pretended to choke up. He even added some fake sniffles and wiped his eyes. There were tears in them, but that was only because he was trying so hard to hold back his laughter.

To take your bathroom post sex chit chat even further down the pisser, you were then graced with both Diego and Lila coming in.

Seemingly unfazed by the bizarre scene before him, Diego took one look at you and then at Five’s open pants and barked, “Come on assholes, put some clothes on. The party isn’t over yet!"

Lila’s grin grew bigger by the second as her eyes flitted from Five’s crotch to you standing behind him. Feeling the need to step in again, you startled Five when your hands slide around his waist.

“Woah! Hi, there,” he cutely gasped, which made both Lila and Klaus laugh. Poor Luther still looked mortified and wasn't at the laughing part yet.

“Just hold still,” you warned as Five got all squirmy when you blew air across the light sheen of sweat heating his neck. “I think you’re scaring the big guy, with your big scary trouser snake.”

Giving Five a pat on his butt for good measure, you pressed yourself tighter to his back side while putting him back to rights, zipping him up, fixing his belt, and then tucking his shirt back in.

“There, all set.” You gave him a peck just below his ear, then smoothed your hands over the fronts of his tensed thighs as you peeked over his shoulder at your audience.

Diego’s smirk had you thinking it was just a matter of seconds before he battered Five with something that would no doubt set him off again, but then he merely chuckled and said, “You really do make that hat look good, man.”

Lila tossed you one of her old band t-shirts and gave you a wicked looking grin of approval that proved she was up to something all along, then she said, “We haven’t done the baby reveal yet but you two already know what we’re having, so if you want to get out of here, have at it.” When neither of you said anything, she added, “I still think you are prat, Five, but you deserve something good like this. Just wipe up that jizz off my floor before you go.”

Diego turned, putting an arm around her while he also tugged Klaus and Luther along with them.

Once they were out of sight, you threw the soft cotton over yourself just as Diego started yelling, and you heard their confetti cannon filled with pink glitter going off. “Now it’s really time to celebrate, people! We’re having a girl and her crazy ass Godfather just got laid for the first time!”

Totally Gobsmacked, your mouth dropped open and you stepped in front of Five. “The first time?”

“Not exactly,” Five replied, sounding slightly embarrassed. “I mentioned a woman named Dolores before… So there was that.”

Thinking of the sad look in his eyes when he had mentioned her, you hesitantly said, “Is she still…here?” You couldn't’ bring yourself to ask if she’d died but you could tell that something bad had happened.

“She’ll always be here,” Five whispered, followed by a tiny laugh and a curiously timed scratch at his temple. He looked down at the floor. “I guess my wonderful family didn’t tell you about that part.”

“No, they didn’t, but will you?”

“I will,” he replied, looking up at you with a soft smile that almost reached his eyes but not quite.

“Hey. They asked you to be the Godfather?” you questioned, trying to change the subject as you came forward and threw your arms around Five while breathing in the minty scent of his hair as he lowered his head against yours.

“They did,” he replied. “I am already their other little rugrats back up parent and I guess I didn’t screw that up yet, so they figured why not keep things simple.”

“That’s funny. They asked me to be the Godmother.”

Five let out a tired sounding sighed but you could still hear the smile on his lips. “And the plot thickens…”

A moment of silence passed, and you weren’t sure what he was waiting for. 

The door was open. 

“Is it true that you would have been willing to go out there with me?” he softly questioned. Breaking away just a little so he could look at you, Five’s smile looked so hopeful as he added, “I mean, a teleporting, cold blooded killer, with control issues, random bouts of blatant psychosis, big time issues with body dysmorphia, and a ridiculously inflated ego aren’t usually what most people look for in a boyfriend, so I get it if all you wanted from me was a few laughs and my amazing dick.”

You burst out laughing as you tilted your head up and kissed him, your lips finally coming together for the first time, face to face.

Now there was nothing between you and there was no question what your answer was.

Though Five was obviously a very complicated man, and all the freaky daddy sex god stuff aside, you felt like you were starting to understand him and that was because inside where it mattered, he was all heart.

With his hands coming to your back to keep you locked to him, Five slowly kneaded your tongue with his and it felt like you were falling into a trance from the feel of it and the sound of his peaceful breathing. That was until the world around you fell away, the floor ripping out from under your feet as your stomach free fell.

All at once, you were standing outside. The air crackled around you with the remanence of radiating blue light. Your feet were on the sidewalk, and you could make out that your back was pressed up against the dark blue 1970 corvette stingray you had seen parked outside below Diego and Lila’s living room windows.

Reluctantly breaking your kiss that Five seemed not at all in a hurry to do himself, you looked at the sweet man staring back at you with so much passion in his eyes. His smooth skin was flushed ever so slightly, and his dark hair was sticking out from under that hat in ruffled twists along his long neck.

“Are you ready for that walk in the park now?” he questioned.

You were.

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

Thanks for reading and if you've read my first series posted over on A03 and this one seemed a little familiar, it's because this one was inspired by a scene in part two of that story. It was just too fun not to turn it into a reader insert one-shot for those who aren't interested in reading 800,000 word, 3 part stories about our awesome guy. 😂👌

Link to my Five Art/Fanfic master post

Link to all my Tumblr posts

Link to visit me on A03

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

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 ~

[itstheghostofmypast]

Five: Emotional connections bring weakness.

Y/N: *tearing up*

Five: And put you and everyone else in danger.

Y/N: *whispers* Five...

Five: A weakness that'll prove fruitless if death approaches.

Y/N *full on sobbing and hugging him*

Klaus *awkward* :You may now kiss the bride?¿

Diego: wtf, is going on?

*Everyone else shrugs*

Lila *wiping a tear* : Beautiful.

[thebearmage]

Closed Eyes (Please Open Them)

Five Hargreeves x GN!Comatose!Reader

Part Two of One Mistake (is All it Takes)

Summary: After Cha-Cha's attempt on your life, you are admitted to the hospital. You are alive, but you are far from okay. Five sits with you, refusing to leave. His only company is his own regrets.

Warnings: Angst, HEAVY angst, injuries, hospital and medical equipment, Five being sad

READER AND FIVE ARE 18+

MASTERLIST

Five was shaking.

He was sitting in his room, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. A mug of something hot in between his numb fingers. He hasn't moved. Not since Diego had dragged him out of your apartment building a few hours ago.

Five was still in his bloody clothes, he was looking at the blood on his pants. It's yours. Your blood...you're blood on his clothes....your blood staining his skin....your blood all over the floor...all over you...everywhere....everywhere.....EVERYWHERE!!!

Five gasps as he finally snaps himself out of his shock-induced trance. He pants, letting the mug slip through his fingers, crashing onto the floor.

Someone comes rushing into the room. It's Vicktor, he gasps softly and kneels in front of Five.

"Five, hey look at me," he gently takes Five's hands, "Hey, it's Vicktor, can you hear me?"

Five slowly focuses on Vicktor, sighing, "Yeah,"

Vicktor looks at Five in sympathy, "Let's get you cleaned up, okay?"

Five nods numbly. Vicktor leads him to the bathroom.

"How is..." Five's voice cracks. He's scared to ask the question, "Are they...?"

Vicktor nods, "They're alive. Last we heard from the hospital, they went into surgery. We have to wait until they're done before we see them,"

Five nods, his breathing slowed a bit. You were alive. You were alive.

The relief slowly fades when the second part of Vicktor's sentence clicks into his mind.

Five swallows. You were not out of the danger zone yet.

Vicktor helps Five clean up and change clothes. After that, the family drives to the hospital.

Allison walks up to the desk, her brothers trailing behind her.

"Hey, we're looking for Y/N L/N,"

The nurse nods, "They just got out of surgery, it went well," The umbrella academy sighs in relief but the nurse looks at them sadly.

"Oh no, I know that look," Klaus says,

"What's wrong?" Luther asks,

The nurse sighs, she gesture for the family to follow them as they walk down the hallway.

"Y/N was brought to us in critical condition," she states, "Several stab wounds to the stomach and sides, bruised ribs, a bruised lung, and some trauma from being attacked or hit. They're body showed us signs of torture as well,"

Five's blood was boiling. The quick death he gave Cha-Cha was a reward compared to what he wished to do now.

The nurse stops at the door, "They lost too much blood on the way here and during surgery. They...fell into a coma,"

The Umbrella Academy gasped in horror. Ben and Allison cover their mouths with their hands. Luther and Klaus look down. Diego curses before putting a hand on Five's shoulder.

Five...looked crushed. The mask he normally wore around others shattered into pieces at those words. Tears filled his eyes as he gasps a bit.

"When will..." he takes a breath, "When will they wake up?"

The nurse shrugs, "We don't know. It's possible that they won't,"

Five chokes on a sob and blinks into the room. The nurse is startled but the others slowly open the door to peak inside.

Five is staring at your broken and battered body. Bandages were wrapped around your arms and fingers. Five could assume there were more covering your chest and legs. There was a few tan bandages on your face, covering smaller cuts.

There were so many different IVs and wires connected to you, each hooked up to a liquid or machine keeping you alive. You were on life support; a tube was down your throat, peaking out of the side of your mouth. You lips were closed limply around it. There oxygen tubes in your nose, helping you breath.

For a heart stopping moment Five realized those tubes could be the only thing making you breath. He stands, frozen, breathes coming quicker and quicker.

Then, to the shock of his family (sans Diego, who'd had seen Five earlier), Five bursts into sobs, rushing over to you.

He doesn't say anything at first. He just grabs your free hand and sobs loudly, gently moving some hair out of your face with a trembling hand.

"No..." He pleads, "No....please...."

Five collapses into a chair next to you. His legs no longer able to hold him. He buries his face into your stomach, gently wrapping his arms around you, and wails. Screaming his sorrow and pain into your hospital gown.

———————❖———————

Days ticked by, slowly turning into weeks. The doctors were loosing hope for your recovery, saying you most likely have gone brain dead.

Five wouldn't listen, he was by your side every hour. The doctors stopped trying to kick him out after he'd blinked into the room after visiting hours multiple times.

The doctors told him that talking to you might help. So, as he sits next to you, on day 18, he mumbles to you.

"Hey, baby. It's me. It's Five," he says, "I...I um...I hope you can hear me," Five sniffs, taking a pause, "I really do. So, whatever your dreaming about, I can be there with you,"

Five slowly covers your hand with his, "I have some good news," he laughs a little, "I should have told you ages ago...but...um...it's past April 1st.....we've stopped Doomsday,"

Five swallows, his throat was dry, "We learned about Viktor's powers. Apparently he was the bomb to end the world. But, uh, he's to worried about you right now,"

Five laughs humorlessly, "You've saved the world," he says, voice choked, "By nearly dying," he lets out another laugh, "You're a goddamn hero, Y/N,"

Five's laughter slowly dissolves into sobs, "God...I miss you so much," he murmurs, "So...so...fucking much! So much it hurts!"

Five tries to wipe his eyes, but the tears keep falling, "You've needed this rest, though," he admits, "You've been so overworked since I came back,"

Five buries his face in his free hand, "It's all my fault! I dragged you into this! I wasn't there for you when you needed it! I pushed you away! I said those horrible things to you!"

Five sobs brokenly, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Five desperately but gently squeezes your hand, "I've got you, I'm not letting go! I have your hand, your small lifeless hand," he hiccups slightly, "Oh god why is so lifeless!?"

He brushes some hair out of your face, sobbing and looking into your closed eyes, "Please wake up....please wake up,"

He lets his head drop onto your chest as he weeps. His hand ever letting go of yours.

The sound of your heart monitor beeping faster catches his attention, he gasps softly as he looks up.

"Baby?" he cups your face, "Y/N?"

You slowly wince due to the harsh light as it slowly filters into your awareness. Your eyes are not open yet but you can sense the brightness behind your closed lids,

You try to speak around the tube in your mouth, and then sigh in defeat when you can't. One would expect that you'd be panicking, but you had hear (most of) everything while unconscious. You had been aware that you were in a coma, and you had been aware of the tubes and wires attached to you (it caused a LOT of discomfort, thank you very much).

Five was in disbelief, gasping as he gently cups your face, "Y/N?"

Despite the harsh light, you slowly crack open your eyes to look at him. You smile as best you can.

Five laughs, this time it's a happy sound, and rushes forward to kiss your forehead, "Hey," he says, more tears coming to his eyes. You slowly reach up your heavy arm to brush the tears away and he cradles your arm against his face.

"You're okay, you're okay," he mumbles like a mantra, "I'm here...and you're here with me," he half sob, half laughs and looks up at you.

"Morning sleeping beauty," you give him a deadpan look at that line and he snickers wetly.

The doctors come rushing in a moment later. Once they get the tube out you turn to Five and breath,

"...bright," your voice is cracked and dry due the tube and lack of use. Five blinks to the light switch and flicks it off, earning a few glares from the doctors, he just maintains eye-contact until they turn back to you.

Once the doctors clear out, Five sits down next to you again, smiling from ear to ear. You try to sit up to hug him but he puts a hand on your shoulder,

"No, no, stay down. Stay down,"

You wince in pain and nod, laying back down. You cough a bit,

"...water?"

Five nods quickly, overwhelmed, and blinks to the cafeteria. He comes back with a water bottle. You hold out your hands for it and he reluctantly hands the bottle over,

"....bed,"

Five nods again and helps you raise the bed so you're sitting up more without moving your body. When if was safe to drink, you gulp down half the bottle before sighing.

With your throat feeling less like that The Atacama Desert, you turn to Five.

"Hey, baby," your voice was clearer but still weak, "Did you miss me?"

Five laughs brokenly, "Yes, yes I did," he leans forward and kisses you, "I'm so so sorry,"

You look at him, confused, "For what?"

Five looks at you in disbelief, "For everything!" he shouts, "Dragging you into my mess, not being there, pushing you away, saying those horrible things,"

"Five..." you try, but he isn't listening.

"For not protecting you, for letting my selfishness get the better of me. It's my fault your like this!"

"FIVE!" You cough roughly at raising your voice and Five feels another pang of guilt.

"What...happened....wasn't your fault," you say between pants, "We have a fight, yes. But who knew that Cha-Cha was going to be there? Not me, and certainly not you!"

"But..."

"No buts!" You snap, "I don't want to hear you wallow in self pity! I want you to be here with me, dammit! Okay?"

Five laughs, seeing that you were taking a page from his book with the harsh words, "Okay,"

He leans in again and you kiss. He holds you gently. You were here, in his arms, awake and alert. He was never letting you go again, not in a million years.

"So...I saved the world,"

"Oh, shut up,"

———————❖———————

HELLO EVERYONE! I hope you enjoyed this part two! There might be a very short, fluffy part three if anyone wants to see it! Again, hope you enjoyed.

Also, requests are still open! If you want you can send some ideas to me and I'll write them for ya!

TAGS

@eddie-swhore @deceasedream69 @beautyb1ade @sniney @fives-simp217

[mangoshorthand]

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

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.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Could you do some Five fluff? literally any sorta of fluff with him please

Sure! I love Five <3

Sleepy Boy (Five Hargreeves x reader)

Warnings: fluffy cuteness overload, soft sleepy Five, Five is kinda grumpy (but then again when is he not)

Five looked adorable when he was asleep, you decided one day after you'd woken up from your nap to find him curled up beside you. He looked so peaceful; it was almost hard to recognize him without the constant scowl on his face.

You smiled to yourself as you ran your fingers through his soft hair, knowing he didn't let his guard down like this for anyone except you. It felt good to be his safe space; you were the one exception to all the rules he'd made before in the past, specifically designed to keep people out.

You stopped moving as he began to shift towards you, his hands reaching out to grab ahold of your torso as he buried his face into your chest. He mumbled something in his sleep about the probability of ending the apocalypse before making a complaint about something Klaus did the other day.

You let out a small laugh while he stirred, slowly blinking his eyes as he lifted his head up.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, honey," you said, brushing his hair out of his face. "Just something you said in your sleep."

"Hm." He unconsciously leaned into your touch as you began to gently scratch at his scalp with your fingernails. "What did I say?"

"Oh, y'know. Apocalypse stuff. That, and you were complaining about Klaus and something he did."

A sour look crossed his face, causing you to laugh again.

"Idiot," Five muttered.

"Hey, that's not very nice," you gently scolded him.

"I don't care," he huffed. "It's true."

You stopped scratching his head, causing him to let out a low whine. "Five, don't be mean. I don't care whether it's true or not."

He sighed loudly. "Alright, fine. I guess I'm sorry, or whatever."

"Much better," you said, starting to play with his hair again. "See, was that really so difficult?"

"Yes," he mumbled without hesitation before letting out a yawn.

"Aw, you're only grumpy because you woke up from your nap early, aren't you?" You teased.

"No, I'm not," he pouted, reburying his face into your chest.

"I think you are," you persisted, wrapping your free arm around his waist. "Poor baby, not getting enough sleep."

"Shut up," he replied, his voice muffled from his face being pressed against you.

You giggled, kissing him on the forehead as you pulled him close. "My beautiful, sleepy boy," you whispered as you held him.

~

Taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @your-next-daydream

[darkk-academic]

Something like love

[Five Hargreeves x Reader]

Summary : You and Five dance.

Warning : None.

"Dance with me."

It's a statement more than a question. You know if you posed it as a question, he will just decline. Saying it like this gives you a fair chance to convince him.

And as you deduced, it was enough to send Five Hargreeves off-kilter. "What?" Is his immediate response. Not a straight no.

"Dance with me," you repeat, much more firm and sure.

He holds you under a contemplative stare, you resist the urge to squirm—why is his gaze always so intense? Luckily, you manage to meet his stare.

He quirks a brow. "Why?"

"Because life is fleeting, and I want to."

He bites the inside of his cheek. You can tell he is thinking—his brows furrow a little, and gaze sharpens when he does. Seemingly coming to a conclusion, he walks towards you with determined steps.

A touch apprehensive as he holds his hand out, palm up, towards you.

And you?

You positively beam.

You take his hand. Five sighs, as if it's too much work, yet his eyes hold a gleam of fondness.

His fingers trail through your waist—leaving tendrils of warmth in their wake—before settling firmly on your back, drawing you closer—your heart stutters and shakes. Tentatively, you place your hands on his shoulder.

The slow, melodious symphony of piano fills your ears—such a contrast to the rhythm of your heart.

You feel overwhelmed, you wonder if it was a good idea at all. Perhaps, you shouldn't be dancing with him at all, seeing as his mere presence makes you a flustered mess.

"You know, my face is much preferable to stare at than my shoes, if I do say so myself."

Face heating up, you chance a glance at him.

He's already looking down at you, amusement across his face. "There's no need to be flustered, darling. I won't bite," then he playfully adds, "Unless you want me to."

You trip.

His hands steady you, as you cling to his collar, hiding your face in his chest. You decide to stay that way.

He huffs out a chuckle. "Are you going to stay like this?"

"Yes," you say, petulantly.

"Alright," he concurs, and you can hear the smile in his voice. He lets his arms enclose around you in a slight hug.

You smile, turning your head so that your ear is pressed against his chest. Sighing at the sound of his heart beat—which you conclude is better than the dulcet melody currently playing.

You both sway lightly. Not really dancing, just being. Here, in this moment, where there is no yesterday or tomorrow. Neither the end, nor the beginning of the world. Just you. Just him. The two of you, and something transparent.

Something like love.

..................................................................................

A/N —:

Why is writing on a whim so much smoother than writing a planned fic, like why-

Anyways, so this is yeah, hope you enjoy it. And in case it's not apparent I've got no clue what to say so.

Thankyou! ❤

[badkitty3000]

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.