#tua fanfic

[yanderetheumbrellaacademy]

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These

Summary: Five can't keep from dreaming about you, much to his annoyance Pairings: Five Hargreeves x Fem! Reader Tw: Yandere, Mean! Five, Fluff

Five hasn't been able to sleep lately, because his mind was consumed with thoughts of a woman he didn't like. He'd rather never sleep again than even dream of her for a second. He didn't know why she was taking up his mind; Maybe it was some kind of curse? Yes, she was doing something to him and he didn't like it. No- no, he didn't.

He stared blankly at the ceiling, his mind racing with her. He groaned, gripping his hair, his nails digging into his scalp. He rubs his temple, before stretching his face and sitting up. He rubbed his jaw, his mind wandering back to the subject of his dreams; Which only caused his anger to rise.

He fell onto his bed, his arms stretched out. You were in the next room, so he could easily solve his problem, but he was much to prideful to ever even admit he had any kind of positive feelings for you.

He heard some noises outside of his door and decided to investigate. He peaked out the door to see you standing there. You sighed in relief, as you leaned on his door.

"Thank god you're awake. I can't sleep and I knew you'd probably be awake."

"And why would I want to be with you?"

"When have I ever let your asshole mood stop me from worming into your life?"

"It's one of the many things I hate about you."

"I know that's not true."

You were right, but he would never admit that. Not to himself and never to you.

"I think you just say that to keep up your 'douche-bag, I don't care, loner boy' persona. But, that's not why I came here."

"Oh? I thought you love reading people, even if you're wrong."

"Well, I came to see you, because believe it or not, I do like you."

"Why?"

"What?" You look at him, confused.

He doesn't look at you, instead opting to look at his hands, "Why do you like me?"

"Um... Well-" You let out a chuckle. "You're really smart. You act like you don't care, but I know deep down you would do anything for the people you care about... Um... what else?" Your eyes scan the ceiling before your eyes widen and you look towards him, "Oh! Sometimes you're attractive, especially covered in blood."

He finally looks at you, an unknown emotion swarming in his eyes, "Yeah?"

"Yeah." You smile, "But I really like you for you. You know? There's no one else I'd rather spend the end of the world with."

He smiles, but it quickly goes away, "So... What did you want?"

"Oh, right. The dreams..."

"Right." He doesn't need you to continue. Unlike his dreams that were filled with you and a happy life with you, yours were filled with destruction, blood, death; In other words the future. Your mind couldn't get off of the end of the world. "Do you want to stay in here with me? I'll watch you and wake you up if it looks like you're having nightmare."

"I don't want you to watch me sleep. I just wanted to.... I don't know."

"You don't know what you want?"

"No, that's not what I mean. I just... I wanted to be near you." You look down at your hands, before looking at him, "Because believe it or not, I really like you."

"Well, it's a good thing I really like you, too."

"I know, Five. I know."

[froggoon]

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡

She's my Angel I Five Hargreeves x Reader

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚

Post Apocalypse Au! pt.2

WC: ~3,258 Warnings/Tags: Sexual Tension, Mentions of Abuse, Agedup!Five, Mentions of previous trauma, 18+

Summary: The Umbrella Academy saved the world, the Commission is no longer after them, the moon is in one piece and everyone’s lives start to fall back into place. Five attempts to start his life over again when Klaus brings home a girl with unusual shadow powers. ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡

˚

The Apocalypse was over and Five Hargreaves did what he did best, drink and cope. The first few weeks of freedom he tried things he had missed early on in his childhood. It started when Viktor took him shopping for a new, more appropriate wardrobe, that someone who looked his age would wear. Then he would often visit the park just to admire the beauty of places that were once a baron landscape. And sometimes he just spent his time reading catching up on what he missed in the last few years.

But old habits die hard when you spend 54 years alone and the next 2 weeks desperate to save yourself and save your family. Maybe Klaus was right when he called the apocalypse his drug because, for a while, it was all he’d ever know.

Five hadn’t slept well in a long time and despite his newfound freedom without the looming feeling of impending doom. He would find himself waking up at 4 am to check his window and just to see if everything was real.

The Academy had been empty for a bit, the first week his family had stayed back to collect themselves, celebrate, and appreciate one another but slowly their lives fell back into place. Allison went back to Claire wanting to get back her career and her daughter back. Luther wanted to find his independence and took a small helping from his inheritance to live on his own. Diego and Lila had also moved out in hopes of continuing to grow their relationship and perhaps find happiness in normalcy. Viktor, now confident in himself wanting to explore the world more began traveling and meeting new people. To Five it felt like everyone had moved on, except him. He had been the one to jump through time, and now he felt like he was stuck in it.

However this morning, his silent coffee and breakfast time was interrupted but a surprisingly sober Klaus barging through the door with a girl no taller than 5’3 who looked as if she had been dragged through the mud and a forest in his arms.

“I didn’t know where to bring her she ran into me frantic and couldn’t speak much,”

“There wasn’t anyone chasing her so I have no idea where she came from and she’s in pretty bad shape.”

Klaus looked panicked, he felt bad for the beat-up girl in his arms but what could he do besides bring her to the place he knew could help her best.

Grace and Pogo immediately took action, bringing the girl into the spare room to care for her wounds.

“What makes you think you can just bring random people in here? She could be dangerous?”

Five arched his eyebrow at Klaus’s behavior. He wasn’t a trusting man but he trusted his brother’s intuition and the girl genuinely looked like she needed help.

“I couldn’t just leave her on the road. I’m not a bad person Five. There’s something different about her I swear.”

Five looked distrustful at what his brother was saying.

“Well, we’ll just have to see when she wakes up.”

The two went back to doing their own things in the Academy waiting for you to wake up.

————————-3 days later————————

The sun shone brightly in the room you stayed at. Your eyes slowly opened, blinking harshly to adjust to the shining light. You had no idea where you were, this new place was uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Warm wood furniture decorated the walls, and the mattress you slept on seemed more comfy, soft, and warmer than your old hay-filled cot. Unsurprisingly your wounds ached but were clean nevertheless. You jumped when the door swung open to reveal a monkey? no an ape? in a suit. "Ah you're finally awake, Ill let the others know"

"I am Pogo by the way, please rest, we don't want your stitches reopening." Maybe it was the exhaustion catching up to you, but you listened to his words and laid back, staring at the large high ceilings waiting to see if whoever brought you here would be your like your old doctors. Back downstairs Pogo noticed Five pacing around in the living room. "Any troubles worrying you?" "Yes that girl, I can't find any information about her, she had no ID, no name card, I even looked around the area trying to track back where she came from, and nothing." Five glanced around, more cautious of his surroundings

"What if the commission sent her?" "This is not good, not good at all"

And with a quick turn, he teleported to the room of which his unwelcome guest occupied. A flash of blue interrupted your daydreams when a boy about your age in a green flannel, cargo pants, with slightly long side parted hair entered your space. Besides appearing out of nowhere he looked almost normal, but that didn't stop you from being scared. Shivering you pushed yourself back on the bed as far as you could to try to get away from him. Sensing your fear Five held out his hands as a way to show you some form of peace. Lowering one hand he slowly approached you. But the closer he came the farther back you shuffled. Something wasn't right Five thought. You were terrified of him, what had happened to you to cause you to be in such a state.

Hey Im not going to hurt you, I don't know who you are but Im not going to hurt you." Five could see that you weren't budging so he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hazelnut toffee-flavored candy. He wasn't a big fan of sweets but had kept some from his last visit to a local coffee shop. "Here you must be a little hungry, it's good to see." He popped it in his mouth to show her that it was safe, not a trick. Slowly you reached out and touched his hand, grabbing the little treat, unwrapping it before letting the gooey sweet melt on your tongue. Five smiled at your reaction. "See? It was good." He thought you looked adorable with big doe eyes waiting to see if he had any more. He reached into his right pocket and pulled out another handle full of candies. "Ill give you one each time you answer a question. Can you do that for me?" You nodded slowly. "Okay, can you tell me your name?" "Angel" you pointed to yourself "Five" you pointed to him. You had heard Klaus shouting his name when you entered the house. "Angel? Do you have a last time?" "Five. Five Hargreeves" He pointed to himself. "Angel" You repeated. Okay maybe you didn't have a last name that was fine, at least he had gotten a name. He gave you another candy and watched you excitedly open it. "Okay Angel, another question where did you come from? Who or what were you running from?" "Doctor" you responded looking down. "What Doctor? What did he do to you." You felt like you should have known better than to trust the boy in front of you, but he looked so earnest so sweet, that you decided to show him your secret. Opening your fist a ball of shadows appeared in your hand before you tossed it into the air letting whatever light was in the room dissipate. Five knew what this had suggested. Whoever took you, held you captive, and experimented on you. Perhaps they were trying to make you into one of the unlucky 43. Another candy was handed to you.

“Show me more” Five demanded. You blinked at him slowly before he put another candy in your hand. “Show me.”

You looked at him and brought both your hands up into the air. He watched shadows run from the ground into the room and swirl around you. It appeared you could summon shadows at your will and control them.

“Good girl” and another candy as placed in your hand. "Tell me, Angel, do you know where or who it was? Do you know the name of the commission?" You stared at him blankly not understanding what he said. Before Five could ask any more questions Klaus had burst through the door. "My Angel! You are okay !" As he rushed towards you to grab your face. Stunned you jolted back from his presence. "Angel, that's why she called herself that, it's not her name, it’s what you called her!" Five went to smack Klaus in the back of the head when his hand was stopped by a shadow. "No hurt, Klaus friend" With heart eyes, Klaus dove into Angel's arms "LOOK AT MY ANGEL PROTECTING ME!!" With the gentleness of a newborn deer, Angel reached out to Klaus with a small sweet in her hand. "Candy?" "For me? Of course, Angel thank you!" Rolling his eyes at the scene Five teleported to his room to think. Where had this girl come from she had no name could barely speak and had a dark power with unknown consequences. Angel clad in Umbrella Academy uniform, and Klaus were in the living room when a flash appeared in the doorway. "Cinco! Where are you off to?" "Library I need to do some research." But just before he would reach for the doorknob a body was flung into his back. "Here take Angel with you, she needs a new set of clothes, can't have her wearing this uniform, you know all about that wouldn't you?" Klaus said as he shoved Angel forward. "I don't have time, I'm not a babysitter." Five expressed as he grabbed your arms and pushed you back. "Five...mad?" You looked up at Five with tears in your eyes. Reaching out to his face with his hand you softly pet his cheek. "Five...happy. Happy"

The time travelers face softened at the kindness you showed while trying to console him.

“I’m sorry Angel, yes Five is happy. Come on let’s go.”

He grabbed your hand ignoring the feeling of his heart when your soft skin wrapped around his.

————————-In the Car—————————

“Alright Angel, as cute as you look in the uniform we have to get you some normal clothes.”

Five looked over at you, but you were looking out the window. His green eyes passed over the cuts on your legs and the faint but visible bruises on your neck. It wondered him how someone could do this to you, turn a girl who seemed like an Angel into a shadow user. He parked the car at Gimble's before flashing to your side of the door to open it, Five was still a gentleman after all. "Okay now Angel, we're here to buy you some new clothes." You nodded your head to show you understood him and hopped out of the car excited to see the world around you. Being locked up for so long you had forgotten what the outside world looked like. Today the sky was blue with warm gusts of winds filling the air. People and families were seen chattering about. You reached out to grab Five's arm and pulled him closer to the store. Five chucked at your childlike antics, letting himself be whisked away by you. You dragged him to the dress section; some of the kinder doctors had given you books to look at to pass the time, many of them being princess books. There were cute frilly dresses that caught your eye immediately. Rushing forward you grabbed 3 dresses that might have suited you. With a sigh Five grabbed your shoulders wanting to tell you to go find some more practical everyday clothes. But after seeing the glimmer in your eye as if you found the most priceless thing...he couldn't bear take that away from you. "Come on Princess, let's go try them on." He ushered you to the changing room and waited outside. As he turned his back you grabbed his hand, but Five had yanked it back at the unexpected contact. He wasn't completely used to physical touch yet.

Ignoring this you grabbed his hand once more and tried to take him into the dressing room with you. "No Angel I can't go with you, just put on the dresses inside and Ill wait out here."

You had refused to let go of his hand. With another sign he allowed himself to be pulled into the confined space of the changing room. You quickly shimmied out of the uniform skirt and tie throwing it into a random corner. Five's face turned a deep scarlet red, although he was an older man the sight of your small and barely clothes body was enough to make him shift in his pants. Before he could embarrass himself any further he blinked out into the waiting room fanning his face as if he ran a marathon. There were small warning signs in his brain, don't get too attached, she doesn't know better, please don't get a boner right now. Trying to collect himself he put his hands in his face wanting to be anywhere but here right now. You interrupted his train of thought when you came out bouncing with a big smile on your face. The dress you picked out was a cute white summer dress that was white had thick straps tied on your shoulders. The skirt part stopped right above your knees and flared out with a twirl. You looked absolutely adorable, an Angel who wielded the power of a devil. "You look...beautiful" Five muffled through his hand. "Beautiful?" You questioned. "Yes you, Angel, you are beautiful." And as if your smile couldn't get any bigger, you ran and jumped into Five, his arms slowly wrapping around your frame to prevent you from falling.

"Five! Beautiful!" You smiled and pointed at him. Your fingers had graced his cheeks into a smile. Pointing at his dimple "Five! Beautiful" you repeated. "Oh, you think I'm beautiful Angel?" Five couldn't help but also feel happy and continue smiling, something about you felt like a breath of fresh air. His last few weeks had been nonstop paranoia and feeling the effects of an identity crisis, but hearing your laughter and seeing you call him beautiful, it felt as if he was actually living again. However, that didn't stop the nagging fear in the back of his mind of where you came from and what had happened to you. Perhaps it was the assassin in him that just couldn't let him...enjoy a moment. "Come on Angel, let’s get the rest of the dresses and pay. We need to head to the library before it closes." You nodded your head and skipped off to grab the rest of your dresses and clothes. You and Five stood at the cashier waiting to pay. "That will be 45.78." Five pulled out a 50 and felt your head lean on his shoulder. "Five, thank you." You looked up at him with a mischievous gleam in your eye. As he was retrieving his change you leaned up and placed your soft lips on the corner of his mouth. "Five happy?" He looked down at you and blushed "Yes Five is very happy." ————————The Library—————————- You were sat in Five's lap flipping through a picture book while he was doing research. Unfortunately, there was almost no information about any kind of suspicious activities in the area where they had found you or even how you even got to the city. Five had to expand his research on places that might have to do with experimental tests but with so little access he was found himself at a dead end. "Nothing! Absolutely Nothing!" Five yelled before slamming his notebook on the table. You jumped in his lap and covered your ears, eyes filling with heavy teardrops waiting to fall. "Shit Angel Im sorry come here." He cooed wrapping his arms around you for the fourth time today. Five pressed a kiss to the top of your hair and inhaled slowly. You smelt like a blooming meadow and a hint of cinnamon. Closing his eyes he rested his head on yours. It wasn't been often when he felt a peace like this, heck he didn’t even remember the last time he felt calm, other than when he was drinking or passed out after a mission. Your eyelashes fluttered on his neck as you began to press small kisses on his jawline. "Come on Angel what are you doing?" "Make Five happy. Kiss you" You mumbled and continued leaving marks on his neck and jaw. Five clenched his fists around you "Angel if you keep this us I'm not going to be able to hold back." Five groaned as he pulled you closer into his lap. And with his last bit of resolve, he blinked you guys back into the car. "Come on Angel let's go home." He kissed your cheek slightly to assure you he wasn't mad and drove the two of you back. ————————the academy———————--- "Mi hermano and Angel ! You guys are back" Klaus shouted from the couch he was currently lying on. You ran into the living room jumping in front of Klaus to show off your dress.

"My cutie Angel! You look so pretty!"

Klaus then swept you off your feet and into a fit of giggles. Five, who had been observing the scene from the bar was actively trying to fight off the green monster that was creeping up his heart. "Leave her alone Klaus we had a long day. Come on Angel let's have your shower and get ready for bed." It was obvious you needed to be cared for and Five had already begun to assume the role. Pulling out some extra pajamas Five had in his wardrobe he handed them to you before showing you the bathroom. "Shower here and come back to my room when you are done okay?" You nodded back and went into the bathroom. With a sign Five flopped on his back in bed wondering more about you. How could someone he just met cause him to feel such a way? Maybe it was his messed up time-traveling brain that was causing these emotions but deep down he knew he had a hidden attraction to you. He began to think more about your powers. You couldn't be part of the 43 because you were too young but you also showed an understanding of your abilities and more control than Viktor did when he first found out about his. Five would have to talk to you after you shower about your abilities. Small footsteps padded outside his room before stopping. The door swung open and there you stood wrapped in only a small towel Grace had given you. Five green eyes turned wide as you skipped into his room.. You had turned to grab the pajamas he had left you on the bed and dropped your towel. Five sat up instantly, his eyes wandered over the curve of your breasts and the plumpness of your backside. Being in the apocalypse and focused on getting back home to his family never allowed him much time for romance or women, besides Delores. You stood up as bare as the day you were born, nipples perked up at the cold air and you put the silk top and bottom on. Now properly clothed you turned to Five who was staring at you with eyes that rivaled a burning sun. In a blink, he was in front of you grabbing your waist with such a force it felt like you would disappear if he let go. Bringing his lips to your neck he kissed gently and dragged his face to meet your eyes. Soft despreate lips met plump shy ones as you and Five melted into each other. The kiss grew hungry, more desperate, both parties missing the feel of one another. The two of you fell back onto the bed with Five on top of you. Two souls both isolated from the world finally finding solstice in one another. All the questions Five had for you were gone from his mind, the only thing replacing it was the thought of how your body felt against his. A small hand reached into the front of Five's pants. "I want to help Five" You had whispered into his ear. It was going to be a long night.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ Authors note : I kinda of wrote this on a whim in the middle of the night. I’d want to make this into a full series although and go really in depth about Angel who she is and how she got her powers and I defiantly want to bring back the rest of the Hargreaves but I'm not sure when Ill have another creative burst.

[mrsmikaelsxn]

Oblivious To Love

masterlist 1k celebration

pairing: five hargreeves x female reader

warnings: fluff, kinda flirting, kissing

summary: five is your boss at the commission, always flirting and hinting that he likes you. you're oblivious to this but then finally admits his feelings - requested by anon

a/n: not to toot my own horn but i think my writing was pretty good in this. thanks so much for requesting for five because i have to write more of him !!

song: i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys

Five Hargreeves was certainly a character.

He was a decently closed off person. He was always thinking... calculating. Always working to be ten steps ahead of everyone and everything.

He didn't enjoy working at the Commission. He'd rather be enjoying life with his family, and enjoying a decent cup of coffee. For a while when he was there, he was always aggravated at someone or something.

That was until you came.

Or well, until he met you. You've been working there for a few months already.

You're the most stunning person he's ever laid his eyes on. To make things better, he was over the moon when you became his assistant.

You are absolutely lovely. Not to mention, incredible at your job.

You're sweet, smart, and extremely sensible.

Five loved your company. He was always in a good mood when you're around. He often dreamt about you, not to be taken out of context.

He dreamt of a life with you, seeing as how you two are so compatible.

To put the cherry on the sundae, you made the best coffee he's ever had. That says a lot coming from him.

"Good morning, Five," your captivating voice fills his office.

"Morning, gorgeous," he smiles.

He watches as your cheeks turn a light shade of pink. "You have got to stop calling me things like that."

"Nonsense, everything I call you is fitting."

He leans back in his seat and watches your movements as you move towards him. He takes in your outfit and curses the unprofessional thoughts that invade his head.

Today you were dressed in a knee length black skirt, a white button up blouse, and a black blazer.

The blouse had a few buttons undone which gave a glorious view of your cleavage when you lowered yourself to pick a fallen paper off the floor.

However, he considered himself a gentleman, so he looked away.

"Anyway, I was just about to go and make your coffee. Would it be troublesome if I joined you today?"

He stands up from the chair and strolls over to you. He brushes a strand of hair that sways in front of your face. "You're always welcome to join me, doll."

"Great! I'll be right back," you beam and leave.

To say you enjoyed having Five as your boss was an understatement. He was always kind to you, never let anyone say a bad word about you.

You wouldn't deny the fact that he was an attractive young man. The way he called you pet names that had your stomach flutter made you have a sliver of hope that he liked you.

True, pure love.

It's something you've always dreamed about. Reading it in books and seeing it in films gave you a longing to have someone to spend your life with.

After you finished preparing the two coffees, you walk back to Five's office. Your heels make a sound with every step you take.

You open the door and send a soft smile to your boss. "Welcome back, beautiful."

You break eye contact and place his beverage in front of him. "Hi."

He leans his head in his hands as he rests his elbows on his desk and admires you. "How did I get so lucky," he mumbles, not meaning for you to hear it.

You chew the inside of your cheek, "Get lucky with what?" you ask quietly.

He blinks. Then blinks again. "How did I get so lucky with you? When did I do something to deserve you?"

"Oh, um, t-that's very sweet of-"

"Have you ever taken into consideration that there's a deeper reason why I act the way I do with you?"

"Well, not exactly..." you trail off.

"Hm. Did you ever cogitate about how maybe there's a more meaningful explanation to how I behave around you? One besides getting entertainment from witnessing you blush?"

Your mouth opens slightly, and you are at a loss for words. After a moment, your eyes meet his intense ones. You take a breath, "Are you saying..."

He nods once, "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"But what about-"

Before you have the chance to finish your sentence, he strides over in front of your chair, puts his hands on each one of the arm rests, and connects his lips softly onto yours.

He felt you freeze for a split second, before you tilted your head upwards to kiss him back easier.

He drowns in the feeling of your lips. The kiss being shared between you two is better than anything he ever could have imagined.

You both taste of coffee, and he loves it.

You pull back and smile shyly as him. He takes a step back and hops onto the desk, so he's now sitting on it and facing you.

He leans his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together. "I hope after that kiss you'll join me for dinner tomorrow night."

You stand up and smooth your skirt. "I would be delighted."

[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.   

[dicejpg]

You should have left a note - {Five Hargreeves x GN!Reader}

Synopsis: Five is ordered to kill his ex-commission partner. He doesn't want to.

Note: I made this really late at night. I would really appreciate requests for Five :)

(Not edited)

WORD COUNT: 1K

2nd POV:

Five peers down at the paper that bears your name, hands shaky. He was ordered by the Handler--just this morning--to terminate you for immediate extraction.

It’s been a year since you left Five since you left the Commission. He'd been rightfully frustrated since your abrupt departure. He didn't get a note, nor a goodbye. Sure, you two weren’t all that close as partners, but he at least deserved a warning, he thought.

He doesn't know how to feel about the idea of blowing your brains out with his M1935.

You’ve been gone for approximately a year, leaving no trace or hints as to where you may be. But, the Commission finally tracked you down to a small town in New Jersey, 1978.

When he arrives in front of your supposed living quarters, he is taken aback by the rundown apartment complex in front of him. A real shithole. Its bricks are chipped and sun-bleached, presumably from old age. Police sirens and gunshots are audible from a neighborhood away, giving away the unsafeness of the area.

It’s twelve o’ clock at night. Five quietly blinks up to your numbered room. If he remembers correctly from the paper, it's room 395. Third floor, second door to the left.

Your apartment is dark, gloomy. Five does not turn on the lights, not wanting to give away his existence. But, he assumes you’re not home anyways. Your job as a bartender at a rundown restaurant downtown would have you occupied for at least another hour.

He wonders through the confined living space, taking note of a few books scattered on the coffee table, and an unmade bed. There's a small pile of dishes in the sink, a pot and two bowls. There are no picture frames, or wall decor. The room is barren with no personality at all.

Five would not even know that you lived here from the looks of the place.

It smells like you though, he unwillingly notices. He finds it oddly comforting nostalgic.

He’s in the middle of examining some scattered papers on the ground when he hears the jingling of keys outside the door. Along with your whistling.

Five blinks behind a window curtain in no time at all, blood pumping fast. You must have gotten off early.

Your humming becomes more prominent as you enter your living space. The sound of keys being thrown on the kitchen counter makes Five jolt, but he still goes unnoticed.

You make no move to turn on the lights, so Five risks a glance at you.

Your head is blocked by the freezer door, but he notices your disheveled work attire. Some black slacks and an untucked white button down shirt. Your apron hangs on a hook by the door.

When the freezer door is closed, he notices your face. It's the same as when he last saw you, but with sadder eyes and dark eye-bags. His heart sinks, he starts feeling uncharacteristically torn.

He watches you crack open a frozen dinner meal and place it in the microwave. You roll your sleeves up to your elbows while you wait for the food to heat up. Five always thought you had nice, toned forearms. He stares at them, at you.

His eyes are intense, observing as you lean against the counter, stretching and running your fingers through your hair. He feels his stomach knot.

Five was definitely the wrong person for this job. He readys his gun quietly.

You freeze at the almost imperceptible sound of a gun clicking, slowly turning your head in Five's direction. He doesn't see the way your eyebrows furrow because he's fully behind the curtain again.

The microwave beeps quietly, but you make no move to retrieve your dinner.

The sound of footsteps approaching Five's hiding spot makes sweat bead on his forehead. He debates letting himself be caught, but decides against it. Five blinks behind you, aiming his gun.

But you've already kicked the thing out of his hands, fully expecting his maneuver. You tackle him to the ground, gripping his wrists and pinning his legs with yours. Not before kicking the gun far away, under the couch.

"God, of course they sent you, Five." You breathe, glaring down at him in dismay. "The Handler's such a sadistic- I mean, sending my own partner to kill me? Is she kidding?" You ramble is distress, cursing your ex-employer.

Five gazes up at you, swallowing thickly. He fights thoughtlessly against your grasp, but tries nothing else to get loose. He does not want to kill you.

"Let go of me." He warns, feeling fuzzy and not knowing what else to say. His eyes never leave yours.

"Why don't you just blink away? You're fully capable of getting out of this." You accuse, getting close to his face. Your breath tickles his nose. It's minty.

Five hesitates, his eyes fluttering for a moment as he fails to regain his train of thought.

He remains quiet.

"You don't really want to kill me." Your grip on his wrists falters slightly when he doesn't object.

He softly pulls his wrists free, and you let him sit up. But you keep his legs pinned just in case. There is a strangely comfortable silence as you wait for Five to find the words.

"You should have just told me you were going to leave." Five whispers finally. His tone is unreadable. "Or at least left a note."

You look at him with a pained expression. "You're right. I should have." It's something you regretted for months after abandoning him. There is an intake of breath right before you add: "I missed uh- I miss you." You redden, not looking at him.

He exhales with a hidden smile. "Me too."

[incorrectklaus]

Klaus: Has anyone seen my séance candle?

Diego: You mean the one you light to talk to the dead?

Klaus: No, the one I light to set the mood for my bath.

[eddies-guitar13]

Viktor: what do you call disobeying the law?

Five: a hobby

Luther: *stares intensely at Five*

Five:...that we don't engage in

[cobblepot1966]

S4 of The Umbrella Academy returns august 8?

I don't believe it. 🔪💼

Prepare for the Hargreeves family to face their worst nightmare one last time.

Five Alternative. (Au)

New design.

You are in the wrong channel.

(Original Characters)

_

_

[yandere-toons]

KLAUS HARGREEVES

Platonic & Romantic Headcanons - Yandere

WARNING: substance abuse, bloody violence, references to child abuse and neglect, self-harm and suicidal ideation, sexual references, mentions of religious concepts.

PLATONIC:

Hugs, where he snuggles up with his whole body, are his favourite way to greet the one he has so fondly dubbed his truest friend. Klaus shuts out all other communication and responsibility, preferring to laugh with them and grasp for any reason to keep the conversation going. He makes no apologies for his enthusiasm and, if only privately, ridicules those who frown on his behaviour.

A snack or nightcap that happened to be on hand serves as his excuse, but in reality, Klaus is looking for any opportunity to lean in and show how attentive he can be. Klaus will endure an inordinate amount of hostility before he recognises that it's more than a lapse of affection. Even so, he assumes the fault rests squarely on his shoulders and scrambles to be more forthright in his attempts to praise and help.

Sleep exhausts him more than life unless Klaus downs a shot of liquid courage and passes out on his friend, calling their heartbeat the best sedative. He finds comfort in entangling himself with them: then the slightest movement will alert him to a disturbance or an attempt to leave, and he won't have to wake up alone, wondering if he's hallucinated it all.

When his friend exits the room, Klaus jumps up from whatever compact position he's been sitting in and hurries after them. Even if his question about going out together fetches an unequivocal "no," Klaus reacts with joy, as if he's snagged a resounding "yes," and continues to follow at their heels until they reach their destination.

Whether it's throwing himself into the back seat of their car just before they drive off or physically clinging to them, Klaus insists on not being separated for even a minute. Anything longer than a few seconds of uninterrupted silence discomforts him, so he is eager to fill that time with stories of his bizarre visions.

If Klaus's friend lands in a scuffle, he enables them by shouting words of encouragement for them to hit the other. For Klaus to strike, the friend must either ask him to do so or catch him in a moment of extreme distress. Once the altercation is over and Klaus's friend emerges victorious, he approaches the opponent and taunts them quietly, if possible extinguishing his cigarette on their skin.

Suppose his friend loses or appears to be struggling. In that case, Klaus will call upon his brother Diego to intervene with deadly force. Klaus frames this as a personal favour between brothers, but Klaus has, at best, a tenuous intention of repaying Diego, unless what Diego asks for comes in the form of pills or powder. This becomes clear when Klaus decides not to stay for the end of the fight and leaves with his friend to pour a celebratory drink.

Being a bystander in the fight means staying behind Klaus while he holds out his arm like a seatbelt. Klaus believes he has failed to fulfil his sole purpose in life and is therefore unworthy to live, so at the first sign of danger, he will sacrifice himself for one of the few people who have not yet written him off.

Klaus enjoys swapping gossip and bad memories of questionable validity about how awful the person was. He even steals valuables from the person's house, small enough to fit in his coat pocket, and then splits the reward with his friend, distracting them with compliments and jokes in hopes that they won't confront him about the crime.

If the friend presses him hard, Klaus will hand over the stolen goods but will argue that he is thieving solely in their best interest. If you wait a day or more to ask him about it, Klaus will have the time he needs to pawn off all the stolen goods and double down on the lie that someone else is to blame.

Hearing a good song, Klaus will try to dance with his friend. Humour him or not, Klaus improvises a whole routine and "accidentally" plants his elbow in the ribs of everyone he suspects has the same dance partner in mind. He makes a point of swaying in his friend's line of sight and slides into the way each time they venture out.

Despite this, Klaus is the first to flee and invent insults against the others for smothering him. Should the people claim that Klaus is the real hanger-on, that his friend stays with him out of pity rather than necessity, he lashes out in a burst of verbal and physical rage at whoever said it last.

Acts of impulse serve as a cornerstone of his fragile attachment. In a more domestic setting, Klaus falls into their lap on the pretext that his family is hogging all the chairs. Kisses blown across the room, closer if his friend asks for such things, earn him much derision from his siblings.

No matter how much Ben gags in his ear, Klaus pays no mind to his antics and gradually isolates himself from those who challenge his view of the relationship. He has had enough of being expected to validate his every choice in his family's eyes and declares that he will never again bring his friend round the mansion. When questioned as to his motives, Klaus is unusually honest about his preference for them over his family.

Klaus jokes that, even in death, he will hold them to all the promises they made in life. He warns them not to bunk with other spirits, as he has dedicated a La-Z-Boy and a bottomless supply of pizza to them in his afterlife. One-on-one existence, where his dream could never again be taken from him, is his paradise, and the resurrection, the gasp of loneliness that comes with leaving such a world, takes more from his heart than any bullet.

As someone whom the dead haunt like a shadow, Klaus will continue to talk to his friend long after their death. Everyone else can only watch and guess at his condition as he chats with empty air about what to eat that day. Klaus is well aware that his friend is dead and that no one else can see them now, but it gives him more reason to include them in conversations with others.

This is how he soothes his grief and tells himself that despite the new barrier, he can still socialise with them and, at least for a few blissful minutes, pretend that everything is as it should be. If anyone is angry with him for this, Klaus teases them: in his eyes, they are shamelessly envious that he has such a loyal friend.

ROMANTIC:

Playdates with his abrasive family are a necessary evil, but as soon as his partner leaves, Klaus waves goodbye to his siblings and follows. He packs his nonexistent bags and sets off, unable to trust that his partner won't realise he does more harm than good and abandon him while they're apart.

Klaus fears his attachment—he worries that by revealing its burning intensity and seeking appreciation, he is inviting future rejection. Every time Klaus takes such a risk, he anticipates problems in the relationship that will exceed his abilities and expose his incompetence. Consequently, he may attempt to sever the connection before it has the chance to evolve.

Throughout Klaus's existence, fortune has conspired against him, divine intervention has been a lie, and karma has overdosed him twentyfold before granting him another fleeting sense of hope. Any individual who treats Klaus as anything more than his father's failed experiment and values him for reasons beyond his powers which he so loathes must be clueless.

However, Klaus notes, they must also be a finer person than himself, one to whom he could never measure up, and for whose sake he would mutilate himself at a moment's notice. Anyone who hurts them is beneath contempt, a bastard whom he would gladly let burn in a fire of their own making.

Klaus dreams up an intricate history of conflict and pleasure in case he has to step into the role of a jilted ex and deliver a heart-wrenching story to win that coveted second chance. He dallies in places frequented by his partner to catch them alone, spilling his deepest affections, hoping that one day, even if a thousand lifetimes from this one, they will embrace him once more.

For Klaus, eye contact with his partner means that they find him the opposite of repulsive and are open to seeing more of him, a feat he cannot even allow himself. At the slightest hint of their presence, he casts a wistful stare that, when interrupted, turns listless and dejected. It is this ingrained hesitancy to trust his own judgement that causes him to doubt his right to exist until another sees him and proves that he deserves life.

Klaus chases this meaning as he often has the bottom of a bottle, languishing in every sense of the word until he may experience it again. Perhaps a glaring difference in interests leaves him at a loss as to how to bond, such as if his partner turns out to be a grease monkey. In this scenario, Klaus resorts to conning a mechanic's shop into giving them lessons.

He deliberately injures himself, making sure that some part of his body is streaming blood, and then claims that an employee assaulted him. The act is contrived to arouse sympathy for him and punishment for another, replete with tears, dramatised accounts of every blow dealt, and threats when no one else is listening.

Klaus pretends he is too disoriented from blood loss to walk on his own and insists he must hold on to his partner when he stands. He grossly exaggerates the time and energy needed to recover, suggesting they carry him in their arms and focus all their attention on him until he "feels better."

Claiming that insensitive siblings will only aggravate his fragile state, Klaus plays up the injury and groans his way into his partner's abode. There, in the bedroom or on the couch, he finds his strength, undresses with a quickness he previously thought lost, and makes every effort to seduce.

Each day reminds Klaus how readily most people dismiss him as a useless junkie, so much so that he struggles to see the point of recovery. He considers his perceived attractiveness to be his one redeeming quality or, at the very least, the only quality that elicits positive reinforcement from others. Thus, he often sees his body as all he can offer in terms of incentive to stay with him.

When an attempt fails or, worse, is so unsuccessful that the relationship is jeopardized, Klaus rushes to propose alternative forms of intimacy: sleeping in the same bed from now on or spooning for a couple of days. In the meantime, Klaus worries inwardly that he is no longer desirable and fears for his ability to maintain his partner's interest.

That afternoon, Klaus presents them with a cocktail he swiped from Reginald's stash or a local bar, dressed in clothes he snatched from their bedroom without asking. Klaus is down to share a bottle of hard liquor, but addiction is the price he alone must pay for all his mistakes.

When his partner has similar issues, he takes the bottle and pitches all the street drugs, forcing the substance into his own veins when he needs to remove it completely from their reach. Klaus would rather bear the pain of another overdose than risk that for his partner.

Suppose the two have five dollars between them; the partner wishes to use it for a packet of cigarettes, while Klaus wants to put it towards a rice cake to split. Given the risk of disappointing them or starving, Klaus will suffer an empty stomach until he keels over. Once they look pleased, he can always shoplift the odd armful of crisps from a convenience store.

As the days turn to weeks, Klaus finds that less and less of life brings him the high he feels when he is near his partner. Nothing inspires the same happiness, and everything that used to thrill him has dulled. For Klaus, the whole of his life's worth depends on whether his ardour is reciprocated. If not, if he has devoted so much only to humiliate himself again, then the world of the living is no place for him.

Seeing how his family treats him like a ghost, Klaus trusts no one would mourn him if he vanished and never found his way back. At least, in death, he could enjoy a moment's peace and await the day when the one in whose steady hand he put forth his heart, freshly torn from his chest, would visit him.

Gone is the will to eat save for a cold waffle here and there, drinking himself into a nonstop bender that aims to drive out his heartache but instead only deadens it. Wrapped in a memento he never takes off to keep up the semblance of closeness, Klaus lingers at their final resting place so as not to miss any effort at contact.

It is not at all uncommon to find Klaus hungover, musing that perhaps if he dies in the same place, he can follow them to the other side. The more breath leaves his body, the closer their touch, telling him if he falls a little deeper, he can be with them. Whether it's a pipe dream or a drug-induced flashback, which Klaus is no longer able to tell apart, he resists coming out of it until a defibrillator or stomach pump forces him back to reality.

Each time the Maker rides to him on Her dirt road, there comes the possibility of a reunion. At his lowest, Klaus stops his heart for this exact purpose, or rather, he welcomes a moment in the hereafter with one who eases his burden of life.

Do anything you want with my work, but never make me boring!

[frozenwafflesagain]

Hey uh do you think the Hargreeves siblings got each other birthday gifts when they were kids?

Do you think they snuck out in groups of maybe 2 or 3 to go shopping for the rest of them?

Do you think Luther has such an extensive record collection because he got new records from Diego and Ben every single year?

Do you think Allison got Klaus a nail polish set and he got her a new skirt?

Do you think Five never forgot about Viktor and made sure the others didn’t either, so he always got a gift along with the rest of them?

Do you think Luther didn’t quite understand the kind of subjects Ben read about but scoured Barnes and Noble for something he thought Ben might have liked?

Do you think Diego got a new knife from everyone pretty much every time and always complained but secretly used them more than any of his others?

Do you think Viktor played “Happy Birthday” on his violin to wake them up on October 1st?

Do you think they all got Five a gift for years after he disappeared? Do you think they thought that if they remembered him on their birthday it was easier to pretend he was out there somewhere celebrating with them?

Because I do.

[coffee--writes]

Graceland Too

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Mentions of Abuse, Violence, and Drug Use (Not by Reader or Five)

A/N: This is inspired by Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers. The lyrics are italicized!

Summary: Five Hargreeves embarks on a mission with you, a Commission mystery.

Five Hargreeves had not been there when you arrived with scars on your skin and your lips in a thin line. 

Although he hadn’t been there, he had heard all the stories. 

You were a Commission daydream. You were hard as steel. Took orders without a second thought. No one ever broke through that stony exterior of yours, something the two of you had in common. But that didn’t stop the stories from getting around. That day you showed up scarred and cold, you had been running from something. Abusive family, violent parents, constantly cracked up or hungover. No food on the table, barely a warm sheet to cover you at night. You had been in and out of depression. In and out of your mind. 

Then one night, things changed. 

The night you decided you were no longer a danger to yourself or others. 

You made up your mind that night, the night your parents didn’t show. You laced up your shoes, yelled down the hall of your crumbling apartment building. Nobody answered. So you walked outside without an excuse to stay. That night, as you stumbled through city streets, starving, thirsty, bruised, defeated… the Commission saved you. 

You were everything they could’ve wanted. A clean shot of an assassin, a hardened soldier loyal to its infantry. You spoke little. Friends were out of the picture. Another thing, you and him had in common. But one thing was never doubted , that you could do anything you wanted to. One of the highest kill counts, most assignments completed, employee of the year. 

A Commission daydream. 

Your story was infamous. It was one Five Hargreeves resonated with, admired. After all, his family had never been the definition of functional but at least he had had people to call home. Your story ran through his head as he stood outside the Handler’s office listening to your voice, quiet but firm. Your voice never raised and he wondered how you did it. He was indulgent to his anger. It was the driving force behind every kill, every shot. But even as you argued, the Handler’s voice becoming increasingly frustrated, yours never raised, not a decibel. 

The result of the argument over this particular assignment had ended in your favor. Not a shock, you could do whatever you wanted to do. A high-end assignment could easily be won in your favor. What was a shock was you approaching Five, paper in hand. 

“Boss says I’ve got to have a partner for this one.” you state blankly, sliding the paper across the lunch table to him. “How about it, Hargreeves?” 

He blinked, reading the paper, glancing up at you. Another thing Five knew about you, you could go home. The Commission had signed off on it, the works and all. But no, you stayed. Dedicated as ever before. The thought ran through his head, your eyes glared into his. You could go home, but you weren’t going to. 

He didn’t know what prompted him to state a firm, “Sure”. Maybe it was the cold, blank stare in your eyes. Maybe it was the quite beautiful, stoic impression you had. Like the marble of a Greek statue, depicting some tragic tall tale. But whatever it was, it earned him a delicate smile. “Thanks.” you replied, leaving him wondering what on Earth he had gotten himself into. 

—— 

Traveling with you, he learned you weren’t all you were made out to be. 

Sure, the quiet, cold exterior was still there. But upon first glance, he noticed the slight care you put into things. The way you packed two mugs of coffee as opposed to just one. Not a word said but the action said enough. The way you meticulously packed each and every item you brought, making sure to extend the same courtesy to his belongings. 

Small things really, but it said enough. 

So you picked a direction, foot pressing down on the gas pedal of the 1977 Ford F-150 you had chosen out of a random parking lot. You were going 90 in Memphis, turning up the music. An old Van Morrison song, he could recognize the voice. It reminded him of his sister. 

“Why so loud?” he ventured to ask. 

Your eyes never left the road. “So thoughts don’t intrude.” 

He blinked, not sure of what to say. You raised the coffee mug to your lips and he was once again reminded of the one you had brought for him. It raised a curious thought in his head. “Not an easy thing to just not think.” he remarked. 

You glanced at him, almost as though you were taking him in. “I’ve managed.” you said plainly. A moment of silence went by. “Although, I will say Hargreeves you’re making it quite difficult to not think of anything with all your yapping.” 

He chuckled, eyes peeled towards the rising sun. “Well what are you thinking about now that I’ve disturbed your peace of mind.” 

Your lips turned up slightly, almost sadly although it was a smile. “Predictably, I wound up thinking of Elvis.” you chuckle softly. It was the first time he had heard you laugh. It was a nice sound, comforting almost. Somehow reminded him of home. 

“Why Elvis?” he asked, a slight smile coming to his face. 

You took one hand off the wheel, shrugging. “Mom always had it on the few times she was around.” you remarked. He noticed the way your lips curved as you spoke. The one small notation of emotion in your face, the one thing that gave you away. “Plus I wonder if he believes songs could come true.” 

Five’s brows furrow. Your hand drums on the middle compartment of the truck. “Well, he spouts all this bullshit about love. Shit, he made a career off of it. But does the man actually believe in it? Love?” 

“I don’t know.” he commented. “I mean I don’t think you have to believe in something to sing about it. There are thousands of others who wrote about it so I’m sure he had plenty of background to work with.” 

You scoffed. “Well, then that would be plenty sad. I’m usually a cynic but I’d like to believe the man who wrote some of the most notable love songs the world’s known to have believed in it himself.” 

“We’re in a world full of copycats and unoriginal imbeciles. The chances that Elvis believed in love songs is slim.” 

At that you gave a laugh, a full bellied laugh. He looked up quizzically. Your face scrunched up as you did. The marble statue seemed to have melted into a beautiful glaze of colors. Five delighted in it. The fact that he had made your statue slightly crack and crumble. You had done the same to him, if he were being honest. 

“And I thought I was the cynic.” you smirked, cheeks lifting ever so slightly. You sigh, looking at the sunrise with a sense of warmth. A nostalgic pull in your eyes. “All I’m saying is I’m asking for it if they do. Those love songs, I mean.” 

Five nodded briefly, his eyes also glancing out at the sun. 

“Have you ever loved someone like that?” 

“No… have you?” 

“No.” 

The silence lay steady as you went ninety in Memphis. 

—— 

The two of you stopped at a 7-Eleven, dead of night. The bright fluorescent lights blinked as you walked through, taking a grab at the edible things that stuck out to you. When the two of you arrived at the register, your hand moved to your pocket. A ten and a five folded up nicely. There you were again, doing the thing he got such a mental kick out of. He had come prepared but it hadn’t even occurred to you to ask him for money. 

You handed the cash to the man at the register, the same stony expression on your face. 

A beautiful thin line. 

There you were, paying for his things. If it were anyone else, he would’ve rejected this action. He would’ve seen it as a one up, a power dynamic, a petty maneuver. But with you, he realized it seemed to be your nature. There was a gentle nurturing you hid beneath your surface. 

Five desperately wanted to know more. 

You sat at a shitty table, wobbly with faded seats. You bit into a burger, silence hanging in the air almost peacefully as it always seemed to do with you. He looked down at his coffee and bagel. “Why’d you take this?” he asked quietly. “I mean… this assignment.” 

You blinked, eyes vacant and blank. It was as though you were conjuring an answer to that yourself. As if, you still didn’t know the answer to it yourself. He was slowly beginning to realize that maybe you didn’t know what you wanted. 

Your composure slacked, putting down your burger. “Better than nothing.” you responded, taking a sip of coffee. “This is my job. Might as well take the interesting ones.” 

The lights seemed to blink with the slow pace of his heart. He took a bite of his bagel. “What are you going to do… after this is all over?” 

You frown, as though the next thing that you were going to say would make you sad. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 

He took a quiet sip of his coffee. “Me neither.” 

The silence lay peacefully thick once more. 

You were a rebel without a clue.

——- 

Traveling with you only made Five more enamored with your presence. 

You were gentle. Quite the opposite of him, actually. Sure, both of you were statues, cracked and slightly damaged, depicting a long life of sorrow. But you had a gentle warmth beneath the surface which Five rejoiced in. 

The truck was filled with music as you went along. Sometimes you talked, other times you didn’t. You were there though. Present, in the moment. You pulled him back to Earth when his head seemed to wander off. You were deep, intellectual, interesting. 

All the little things you did only made him admire you more. The way you quietly filled the gas tank. The way you flipped the pages of your book when he drove. The cadence of your voice, the vocabulary you used. The sad peaceful look on your face after a clean shot, the way your finger rested on the trigger. 

A peaceful kind of falling. 

One night, the two of you stopped at a motel. The night was dark, the stars shining brightly over an Alabama sky. Two beds, a small television that played old reruns of fifties sitcoms. “This is oddly nostalgic.” you commented. “Reminds me of home.” 

It was one of the rare times you talked of home. He smiled softly. “Reminds me of home too… Maybe we can make the most of it.” 

That night, you spent what was left of your serotonin. The motel door lay wide open, the laugh track on the television muffled as you sat on the second floor balcony. Both your backs lay stiff against the brick wall. 

Five looked over at you, and you were gorgeous. 

You chewed on your cheek and stared at the moon. “Hargreeves, I’ve got a confession.” 

He blinked, looking over at you. The moonlight seemed to illuminate your graceful features. “What’s that?’ 

“I know I lived through it, all that pain… I lived through it to get to this moment.”

“This mission?” 

You nodded. “With you.” 

Five paused, his breath seemed to hitch in his throat. You glanced over at him. “I’ve got to say… I kinda like you, Hargreeves.” 

He didn’t know words could mean so much. They were simple, short, barely a sentence. But you had said them and he knew from even the brief conversations with you, that you said what you meant. His lips upturned slightly, not enough to give him away. “I kinda like you too.” 

Silence ensued. Five had a handful of grapes in his hand. You ate a sleeve of saltines on the floor. No proof of anything, not much said. But what was said was enough. In that moment, Five knew: he would do anything you wanted to. 

You didn’t demand much. Maybe that was how people realized they would do anything for someone. Because they wouldn’t demand something irrational for them? Maybe that’s what made the few irrational demands doable? He realized he would do anything for you. 

Whatever you want. 

You looked over at him, a slight smile. “I Love Lucy marathon?” 

He couldn’t drag his eyes away from your face. 

“Whatever you want.”

… 

Whatever you want. 

——

No tags except @olive-recs because i literally don’t know if any of my other mutuals are active 🕺

[yanderetheumbrellaacademy]

Five in a time line where reader doesn't know him? Kind of like Klaus and what's his faces relationship???????

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Haven't written this in ages

He doesn't take it well at all

He's never loved someone the way he loves you, so when he does go into a time line where you've never even met him, he freaks out internally

Though, then he starts to think that maybe this is a good thing

He knows everything about you. Your likes, dislikes, embarrassing memories, insecurities, hobbies, etc [I think you get my point]

^ He can use this knowledge and use it to make himself seem like the perfect guy/boyfriend

While you did like him in his timeline, there were moments where he wasn't the best boyfriend, but now he has a second chance

He'll 'accidentally' run into you and see you holding a book/sketchbook/notebook/journal [Whatever your interest is] and he'll pick it up before being like "Oh, you like ____? I like it, too. I can never find anyone else who likes _____"

He knows you're shy and easily scared/introverted, so he knows this is a hit or miss, but thankfully you take it really well. You were excited someone shared the same interest as you. You start babbling about it, while asking if he wanted to get a drink or food

He's quick to take up the offer. He didn't want to waste a second with you

You do think he moves incredibly fast. You never had a guy like him show such an interest in you, so you're taken aback by his enthusiasm

He doesn't want to scare you, but he can't help himself

He does begin to scare you when you realize he knows everything about you

He doesn't tell you about his powers, until you start to avoid him in fear

You're surprised when he appears in your room, going through your drawers, before tossing you your journal/diary

"You should put a lock on that"

"How- What are you- How did you get into my room?"

He sits on your bed, ignoring you

"Hello? Five?"

He looks at you, holding one of your stuff animals in his hands. If you had known he would sneak in your room, you probably would have hidden that.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

"What?"

He gets off the bed, stepping closer to you, until your back hits the wall. He throws the stuff animal over his shoulder, before making direct eye contact with you. "Why. Are. You. Avoiding. Me?"

"I-I-I ha-haven't be-been doing that- Avoiding you I mean-" You stutter over your words, causing him to deeply frown

"Don't patronize me. I'm not fucking stupid."

"I've been busy," You quickly lie, mentally applauding yourself for coming up with that so quickly

"Doing what?" Five humored you, deciding he'd try and let you defend yourself. Maybe you weren't avoiding him. Maybe he was being paranoid

"Things?"

He groans, looking away from you, annoyed. Why were you really avoiding him? He thought things were going great? But apparently he was wrong...

What he didn't realize is that he was coming on to strong

There was silence in the room and you were scared, because he still hasn't said anything and he's not looking at you

Finally, after what feels like eternity, he speaks

"Can I tell you something-Well, let me showing something."

You were a little confused, but he pulls you towards the bed and pushes you down. He takes a deep breath, before making direct eye contact with you.

"You can't freak out. Promise me?"

"It can't possibly be that bad-"

"I'm serious. Promise me"

''Fine. I promise."

You think he's over exaggerating and blowing this out of proportion, until he fucking disappears

You look around the room confused and then he suddenly appears behind you, holding a soda. It was the one you had downstairs that you had been waiting all day to drink

"How did you do that???"

"It's complicated," He tells you, rubbing the back of his neck

"That's so cool!"

You ask him to do his talent over and over. At first he was annoyed, but then he realizes that you were probably going to break up with him, but now you were more interested in him than you've ever been

You practically become obsessed with him

He doesn't mind, in fact he finds it hot. His timeline version of you was never obsessed with him. You were just a lovely couple, but this version of you was practically as bad as him and god he loves it so much

He wants to keep you forever

And he will. You're never getting away from him

[froggoon]

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I’ll love you in every multiverse I Five Hargreeves x Reader

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Post Apocalypse Au! ( Yes Im writing another one ) WC: 1,791

Summary: The Umbrella’s can understand jumping through time and all its rules, yeah fuck with the timeline and it’ll fuck you right back. But what happens when a portal opens up in the middle of the academy and outfalls a girl who claims to be Five’s wife from a different universe.

Disclaimer: This takes place after season one if Viktor didn’t blow up the moon. ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡

The Umbrella Academy had saved the world from its supposed end. The siblings had lounged around the academy slowly letting reality set that they had avoided their demise. It was the next morning when each of them woke up to check their surroundings, making sure that doomsday wasn’t there.

Five went downstairs for his morning coffee when he saw Allison scrolling for flights on her phone and Klaus checking where was the next place he could buy drugs.

“Leaving so soon?” He questioned.

Allison looked up at him although happy to see her brother, guilty because he was right.

“I have to go see my daughter. After everything that has happened I need her now just as much as she needs me.”

Five nodded his head, understanding where she was coming from, although a little irked she wasn’t wasting any time running away.

At this time a portal had opened above the living room. The rest of the siblings (Luther, Viktor, Diego) had rushed down to see what the loud noise was. It was like Deja Vu when Five came back. In the portal, they could see a fight happening. Figures that had looked like them in a place that looked like their home. A woman’s back came close to the portal, they could see she was in combat but stood observing. Another man who they couldn’t identify, had pushed the woman through the portal.

A girl who looked to be in her early twenties had fallen through. Her face was covered in soot, her hair black as night, and her eyes closed in pain. She was wearing a navy body suit that clung to her figure, and blood, not her own, stained the fabric.

The Hargreeves gathered around to observe this strange phenomenon trying to assess the danger of the situation. They were used to people going after them, so why would this time be different.

You coughed loudly before sitting up, and each sibling tensed with adrenaline. The girl looked around the room with blazing blue eyes before she landed on the youngest Hargreeves.

“Five?” you questioned.

Everyone turned to look at Five.

Luther spoke up first, “You know her?”

“I have never met her in my life.” Five retorted.

The girl dusted off her suit before standing. “Well if you never met me, you either will meet me or I’m dead in this universe.”

“The names y/n , y/n Hargreeves.”

“I don’t remember our father adopting anyone else,” Diego said. He raised his knives, carefully ready to strike at any move she would make.

“That’s because I wasn’t adopted into this family. Married actually.” And with this, she held up her left hand, a beautiful diamond ring shone in the light with a gold band beneath it. The diamond was embellished with 2 smaller emeralds on the side, perhaps representing her lover’s eyes.

“Married? To who.” Viktor questioned.

“To him.” She looked back at Five.

“Well not to him, an alternate version of him. We met a few years ago and got married, thus me joining his chaotic family.”

“So what are you saying you guys are married in a different timeline?” Klaus asked.

“No, not a different timeline, a different universe.” She sat down on the couch.

Your brain felt like it was rattling against your skull, and your body ached. You took a minute to think. Fuck, it was going to be difficult to get back to your Earth. And to make things better you had no idea where to start.

“Alright before you all start firing questions at me, someone get me a cup of coffee, black please.” You threw a jacket that hung over the couch on you to hide the state of your clothes. "Allow me," The alternate of your husband said. Five quickly blinked the two of you into the car and began to drive. "So you and I, are married in another multiverse."

"Correct." "You look to be about my age, how come I haven't met you yet here." Surerly he would remember someone as beautiful as you. "Well it's as I said, my version here could be dead or you might not have met her yet. That being said although 18 out of the 20 multiverses I have visited, we are together." "And the other two?" "In Earth 216, we are strangers, never have crossed paths, and never will. We simply live our lives with other people." Five's eyebrows furrowed. For some reason even if he didn't know Daisy, he didn't like the idea of you with someone else. "In Earth 894, we were madly in love but our egos destroyed us, and we were never the same since." Five could tell there was more to that story but didn't press any further. "So tell me about us, how did we end up together." "I was Diego's friend first, he and I met in the police force. Diego kinda took me under his wing as I was the youngest graduate out of the academy. Perks of having a high IQ. Anyway, he invited me over after your father's funeral. " "Long story short, you fell in love with my charms and I was the only one who could tolerate you. We got married not too long after. It was a small wedding but it's my most precious memory. Our families had gathered together at the church no too far away from here. You cried on our wedding day by the way." Inciting a side glare from Five.

"But...that's where we had some problems." "Do you remember when I fell out of that portal?" Five nodded his head remembering seeing a fight in the alternate dimension. "Well, apparently some of the 43 are not too happy about their powers, nor happy about living among the common people, they believed themselves superior and it became chaos." The two of you arrived at Griddys. Five walked over to the side of your door and opened it for you. "Thank you, darling." You said with a smile. Five's heart spiked at the nickname. He shook his head at the feeling, obviously, it's just what you were used to calling YOUR Five. The two of you sat at the counter and ordered your coffees and sweets. You signed before pulling out a small stack of photos from inside your suit. "This is us and your family." The photo was a picture of you and Five on your wedding day. Five had never looked so happy. Beside him was Luther who he assumed was his best man, next to him was Viktor, Diego, and a man who looked like you. You must have caught his staring, "That's my brother Damien." He nodded and looked beside you. You were wearing a long white dress with intricate lacing, the dress was strapless with a square neckline and had a small slit on the side. Your veil was flipped over your head and flowed down your back. Beside you was Allison as your maid of honor and two other women who he assumed were your friends. You weren't looking at the camera but at him. The next picture you gave him was a close-up of the two of you. You were the one taking the photo. His alternate self was older and had longer hair and facial hair, but he faced your side kissing your cheek affectionately. "This is my favorite photo of you." You handed him another photograph but this one didn't have you in it. This one was a picture of just Five and in his arms a little girl. She looked like you. Five gulped, a million questions ran through his head. Could this... could this have been his future if he didn't make that stupid jump? You said that not all multiverses are the same, you and him could never meet in this one. But that didn't stop his heart from hurting at the thought of missing out on a life of happiness because of his arrogance. "Before you jump to conclusions, she's not ours. She's my niece that we were babysitting. You just looked so sweet with her. You had always told me you wanted kids before but I wasn't ready." You had looked away sadly. In your home, Five always wanted to settle down and raise a family of his own, but you felt like you weren't ready. Now you regretted not because you weren't sure if you would ever be able to get back home. The two of you sat in silence drinking your coffee, both thinking about the what-ifs. "So...how did you end up here. I've been able to time travel but I've never thought about the possibility of multi-dimensional traveling." "As I said there was a fight between us, your family, and some of the 43. They called themselves the Ascendants. Believe to be the superior race." You took a deep breath before continuing. "The Ascendants had a man who could travel the multiverse with his own power, no special gear or machine need. We had planned to capture him but miscalculated. He was ready for us and he aimed to take out me, his biggest threat."

You took another breath before looking into Five's eyes. "I can warp reality. It is essentially in the name. I can manipulate reality itself, altering the fabric of existence according to my will." "But not without a cost," you continued. "Each time I control something, and the bigger it is, the more of my life force I use." Five sat in silence. This was a lot of information to take in. "So what now. How do I help you get back home." "I have...no clue. You were always the smarter one of the two of us." You sighed. It was going to take a lot of research and time to figure it out. "Well, I'm newly retired and have nothing on my plate so let's start at the library come on." He hopped off the stool and made his way to the door. "You coming?" He said turning to look at you. You smiled, he was a great man. Even if this Five wasn't your husband you loved him no matter what. You ran up looping your arm in his making your way out of Griddy's. ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚

Author's note: I got tons of drafts just full of ideas I've had and never gone through with. I've been rewatching the MCU films and Spiderverse so that was kinda my inspiration for this one. If you like my work check out my other Five stories here! I also always appreciate comments and feedback! It definitely keeps me going. She's my Angel Pt1. Shes my Angel Pt2.

[nickeverdeen]

can u do hcs where five finds female!reader whose powers are very related to the four elements? When he finds her, she's very scared of herself because she accidentally caused a neighborhood to suffer an earthquake, so since that, five takes her under his wings and begins to help her understand her power. (like for example, he figures that her powers are very emotional related. And he starts to be her mentor, helping her control her powers so she doesn't cause a storm when she's sad or angry, or so she can't start burning things when she's panicking, for example)

Five finding female!reader whose powers are related to the four elements and he mentors her

Five stumbles upon you during one of his time jumps, witnessing you accidentally causing an earthquake with your elemental powers

At first, you are terrified of Five, mistaking him for someone from the government coming to take you away

Seeing the fear and confusion in your eyes, Five decides to approach you and offer his help instead

Five becomes a mentor figure to you, teaching you about your powers and helping you understand their nature

Five realizes that your powers are closely tied to your emotions, and he starts to teach you how to control them

Five teaches you techniques to regulate your emotions, preventing you powers from spiraling out of control

Together, you identify triggers that exacerbate your powers, such as anger, fear, or panic

Five helps you learn how to control your powers, starting with simple exercises and gradually increasing the difficulty

You spend hours practicing in secluded areas, away from prying eyes, to avoid causing any more accidents

Five is patient and persistent in his teaching, never giving up on you even when progress is slow

Over time, you learn to trust Five, knowing that he genuinely wants to help you

As you spend more time together, you and Five confide in each other, sharing your fears, doubts, and hopes for the future

Five provides emotional support for you - well he’s trying to - and helping you navigate the challenges of mastering your powers

You both establish a routine for training sessions, setting aside specific times and locations to practice your powers

Five encourages you to experiment with different techniques and approaches to control your powers, finding what works best for you

When you make mistakes or experiences setbacks, Five helps you learn from them and move forward

Five introduces “his student” to the theory behind elemental powers, teaching you about the elements and their influence on the world

You develop a rigorous training regimen to strengthen your control over your powers, incorporating physical, mental, and emotional exercises

Five simulates high-pressure situations to help you practice controlling your powers in stressful environments

Over time, your control over your powers improves, and you gains confidence in your abilities

Five encourages you to push your limits and explore the full extent of your powers, under controlled conditions

As mentor and mentee, you and Five learn from each other’s strengths and weaknesses, growing together in the process

Through your training sessions, together you both discovers new abilities and facets of your elemental powers

Five helps you fine-tune your control over specific elements, focusing on mastering one element at a time

You practice controlling your powers in different environments, from urban settings to natural landscapes, adapting to various challenges

Five teaches you how to navigate public spaces without drawing attention to your powers, blending in seamlessly with your surroundings

You maintain strict secrecy and discretion about your powers, avoiding unnecessary attention and scrutiny

Five creates safe spaces for you to practice your powers without fear of judgment or harm

Five teaches you techniques to conceal your powers from prying eyes, such as masking your energy signature or creating illusions

Five helps you overcome your fear of your own powers, showing you that you have the strength and resilience to control them

Five occasionally pushes you out of your comfort zone to help you grow and expand your abilities

In addition to mastering your powers, Five teaches you basic self-defense techniques to protect yourself in dangerous situations

You delve into the intricacies of energy flow and manipulation, exploring your unique connection to the elements

Five helps you harness elemental energy to enhance your physical abilities, such as agility, strength, and resilience

You discuss the environmental impact of your powers and how to minimize their footprint on the world around you

Five teaches you the importance of balance and harmony in using your powers, avoiding extremes and finding equilibrium

Five shares stories and lore about the elements, drawing from his own experiences and knowledge of the world

You experiment with combining different elements to create powerful synergies and effects

Five teaches you how to project and manipulate elemental auras to enhance your presence and influence

You practice creating elemental shields and barriers for protection and defense against external threats

Five helps you enhance your physical abilities using elemental energy, such as increasing your speed, agility, and endurance

You delve into the realms of the elements, exploring hidden pockets of elemental energy and phenomena

Five introduces you to elemental spirits and entities, teaching you about their nature and significance

You practice channeling elemental forces through rituals and meditative techniques, deepening your connection to the elements

You both discuss strategies for navigating elemental crises and disasters, from earthquakes and floods to wildfires and storms

Five shares knowledge about elemental deities and gods worshipped by ancient civilizations, exploring their mythology and symbolism just to understand this all a bit better

Five teaches you how to assess the environmental impact of your powers and take proactive measures to mitigate potential harm

Both of you explore the possibility of collaborating with elemental beings and entities to amplify your powers and influence

You work towards mastering elemental mastery, achieving complete control and mastery over the elements and their manifestations

Five encourages you to unlock your full elemental potential, pushing you to explore new frontiers and push the boundaries of your abilities

You both delve into your elemental legacy, exploring your ancestral connections to the elements and unlocking dormant powers within your lineage

Five helps you realize your elemental destiny, embracing your role as a guardian of the elements and a champion of balance in the world

Together, you and Five forge a new elemental legacy, leaving your mark on the world and shaping the course of elemental history for generations to come

[badkitty3000]

Strength

Five is finally strong enough to give in to his true feelings and tell you how he feels. You are strong enough to let him.

Five Hargreeves x Reader Smut

The third one shot in this short series, following "Addicted" and "Weak". Contains points of view from both characters.

If you have any more ideas for me, let me know!

My Master List Of Number Five Fanfiction

Strength:

The position of the bed in your room has always annoyed you. For half the year, when the sunlight pours in, it slices right across your face in the most non-gentle way. One minute you’re sleeping soundly and the next you are being slapped awake by a piercing light over your eyes. It doesn’t matter how much you try to cover the window, the sun still fights its way through. Like it has a personal vendetta against your rest.

Today is no different, and you shield your eyes with your hand and blink into the light. It takes you a few seconds to clear your head, but then you remember. The happenings of last night would have felt like a vivid dream if it weren’t for the glaring evidence all around you.

Tangled, wrinkled sheets. Your body aching and throbbing in places it shouldn’t be. The lingering scent of sweat and sex in the air. But of course, the biggest piece of evidence is the empty space next to you. He’s gone.

Not that you were expecting anything less. Yet, for some reason, it still fucking hurts. You would think that you would be used to it by now; maybe even like it. Good company, good sex, no ties. What’s not to like? You’ve had this argument with yourself a thousand times. It never does any good.

You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling, and moving out of the direct line of sun. You’re still naked and you can feel the stickiness between your legs. Some sort of concoction of his saliva and cum, probably. You need to shower. But you lie there, staring blankly upwards.

Are you going to cry? Rip the sheets off the bed in a rage-fueled hysteria? Call and leave several consecutive voicemails listing all of the reasons you hate him? Maybe. Or you could just stay here, unmoving and unfeeling. You’re so tired and that seems like the best option. At least for now.

The thing is, it’s not fair for you to hate him. It’s not his fault. He’s never promised you anything he didn’t deliver. He’s never mistreated you or lied to you. He has never been anything except himself this whole time. If you were going to be honest, you’ve brought all of this on yourself. You created this. This fantasy world that has never existed, and will never exist.

What did you think was going to happen? You would finally get him to fall madly in love with you and you’d make some happy little home together, just the two of you? He’d kiss you goodbye in the morning, head out to blast a few unsuspecting fuckers in the face, and then come back in the evening exhausted and missing you? He would sit down and you’d crawl into his lap and lay your head on his chest while he told you about his day?

Yes. That’s exactly what you thought. Pathetic.

You’re not sure how you got like this. You used to be a normal person. You weren’t exactly planning on losing your fucking mind over this guy. During that first night, when you came stumbling into your place, both of you drunk off your asses and already trying to get the other’s clothes off, you certainly hadn’t planned on anything more than a quick fuck. He was hot. You were horny. He bought you a few drinks. You brought him home to fuck him. Not exactly a swoon-worthy meet-cute.

It wasn’t until he had you on your back, naked and panting, that something switched. There was something different about the way he started to kiss you. Something different in his touch as his hands roamed over your body and lit you up from the inside. You weren’t even sure how to describe it.

It was like a longing, or a sadness, or desperation, as he kissed down your neck and chest like he worshiped you. He fucked you hard and rough, but even that was different than anything you’d experienced before. He continued to look you in the eyes, kissing your lips and touching your face.

There was a weird contradiction between the forceful thrusts of his pelvis into yours and the gentleness of his face and hands. Something about that paradox of hard and soft that seemed to be a constant battle inside of himself had you falling apart.

And fuck, did you fall hard.

You wanted to have more of him, to see inside of him, and to give him whatever he needed. But of course, he pulled away the minute you suggested something more than what you were already getting from each other. He had made it very clear from the beginning. He wasn’t going to stay.

It had hurt, but that didn’t mean you stopped wanting him. It was too late by then. He was already inside you; in your brain and under your skin. When he wasn’t there, you could feel him and hear his voice in your head. All of those things he would tell you while his mouth roamed over your body, his eyes full of want and desire.

You feel so good

You’re stunning

Don’t stop, sweetheart, you’re doing so good for me

I need you, baby

The longer you let it drag on, the worse it got for you. He knew what you liked and how to give it to you. He knew what to say to make you forget everything else. When he was there, he made you his world; giving you everything you begged for and more.

Except for the one thing he never gave you, no matter how much you begged.

And you did beg. Shamefully and embarrassingly. You begged him to give you more of him. To know all of him. Not just the physical parts. You wanted to be in his head and in his soul. But he just gave you that look; the one that got you into this mess in the first place. And then he denied you all of it.

You knew why he had told you what he was. He was trying to scare you. Make you think he was a monster and finally give up on him. You had been asking him to stay again, questioning why he wouldn’t when he snapped. He threw you against the wall and pinned you there, teeth bared in a snarl, his face inches from yours.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” he had hissed.

“Try me,” you challenged.

You had seen the brief hesitation and confliction on his face, but then the anger was back and he spat it back at you.

“Fuck! Why are you so fucking stubborn? Fine, you want to know? Want to know why you’re going to regret all of this? I’m a killer. A fucking assassin and I kill people. I’ve killed hundreds and I’ll keep killing more!”

He was breathing hard as you stared at him, your eyes wide, while he still had you backed against the wall.

“So, what now, princess? Still think you want me?”

He had said it sarcastically, obviously thinking he already knew the answer. He thought you would push him away, or scream, or call him disgusting. Instead, you had looked in his eyes and you saw what he thought he had been hiding from you. The fear that was there. He was afraid you would push him away. Afraid you really would see him as a monster.

“Yes,” you had whispered with a nod.

Before he could answer, you had leaned in to kiss him, but he jerked his head back.

“Stop it,” he’d warned quietly. “You don’t want this.”

But you didn’t listen, and you leaned in again, hearing his breath catch in his throat. After he hesitated again, he gave in and let you brush your lips softly against his and he didn’t resist anymore. He let you kiss him and run your hands down his chest, until he was pressing you even harder into the wall, hands laced into your hair.

You’re not sure when it all became a turn-on. Or even why. It’s not like you’d ever thought murder or blood was sexy before.

But holy shit, when you saw that blood on him the first time, you thought you might come just from looking at him.

The only reason you can think of is that you know he is a hard, ruthless, unforgiving killer when he’s out there. But when he’s with you…you get to see a tiny part of him that very few others ever get to. When he’s soft and gentle and caressing your body with the warmest touch, it does something to you. Something weird and primal.

You like knowing what he’s capable of. You like knowing his secret. And you fucking love the fact that he can switch it off and on for you.

You want to hear the bloody details and see the gruesome evidence. You want to smell the dried sweat on him after a particularly draining day of tracking and killing. Because that means you get the other side of him. The one you can pretend is only for you.

Out of all your little fucked up fantasies, that one is probably the most delusional. You have never discussed exclusivity with each other before. There has hardly been a need to, considering how much time lapses in between meetings. It’s foolish of you to think you are the only one. Why would you be?

You know what he looks like and how he carries himself and how he fucks. To think that there are no other women out there taking advantage of his existence would be pretty fucking stupid.

But still, you let yourself fall into that trap sometimes. You imagine all of those days and weeks that will go by without him; when he won’t pick up the phone. You imagine him sitting there alone, thinking about you.

What a fucking idiot you are.

That’s why you had to tell yourself no more. You were cutting yourself off. It wasn’t good. It wasn’t healthy. You were becoming weird and obsessive and your self-confidence was shot. So, after one of those early mornings, when you caught him trying to slip out undetected, you told him you couldn’t do it anymore.

You told him to leave you alone. Told him to go fuck himself. Told him he was the worst person alive.

And he had just stood there, taking it all in, and not arguing. Then he had left, just like he was going to do anyway.

In hindsight, he didn’t deserve any of that. Or any of the times after that, when you had given in and started the whole pattern over again. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t plant these pathetic ideas into your brain. He never promised you anything. Yet, you still blamed him.

All of these thoughts are running through your head as you haul your heavy body up, pausing to sit on the edge of the bed for a minute, before getting up and making your way to the bathroom. As you wait for the shower to warm up, you look at your reflection in the mirror and you flinch. Leaning in closer, you run a finger over the tender mark on the side of your neck. A red and purple bruise that is too high and too big to be covered by a shirt collar or hair. Then you take in the rest of your body. You look like some sort of fucked up connect-the-dots puzzle.

Marks all over your collarbone, your shoulders, and your tits. You even find a few on your stomach and thighs. You don’t even remember getting those.

You might have been happy about it, or even turned on if it were another time. But your mind goes back to last night and everything that he said and did.

He said you were his. He told you only he could have you. He marked you for himself and for anyone else that might see you. He would kill anyone else that touched you.

Then he left.

And you’re standing here with his bites and bruises all over your body, and his dried cum between your legs, and you’re trapped again.

You’re not sure who you hate more, yourself or him.

The shower feels good on your skin as it washes away some of what he left behind. The water mixes with the tears that are slowly dripping down your face and that you are trying hard to ignore. You feel like shit. Just like you knew you would.

So, this is it. You are done. And this is not like all of the other times you’ve said the same thing, knowing in the back of your mind that you really didn’t have the strength to follow through. Now you do. And you believe yourself this time. He will never be completely yours and you are finally ready to accept that.

After you clean up and get dressed, you stare once again at the disheveled bed and you turn away from it. You’ll deal with it later. Right now you need some coffee. Maybe that will help clear your mind a bit.

As you pad down the hallway, you hear a noise and you stop. You hear it again and you continue on, slowly and cautiously towards the kitchen. And then you see him. Bent over in front of your open fridge and you rub your eyes like you must be hallucinating. You look around you, check the clock on the wall, and determine that yes, it is the morning.

What the fuck is happening?

“Five?” you whisper.

Your voice sounds weird to your own ears and you half expect him to realize he made a mistake and blink away without a word. But he doesn’t. Instead, he turns to you and offers you that fucking irritating smile that you both hate and love. And you don’t even know what to say.

 ***********************************************************************

The sun outside is blinding as I shove my hands in my pockets, hurrying along the sidewalk, my head down. I feel the worst I’ve ever felt, and that’s saying something. I fucked up big time and the shame is still lingering. I was manipulative and possessive and rough with her. And then I was gentle and loving. I told her she was beautiful and no one else could have her.

Then I left.

I can tell myself a million times over I’m doing it for her own good, and maybe that’s partially true. But really, it’s for me. Because I can’t pull my head out of my ass for long enough to acknowledge what I really want. At least outside of my own head.

As I’m silently berating myself, something has caught my eye and I stop dead in my tracks in the middle of the sidewalk. Up ahead, coming out of an apartment building is that guy. The one she was with last night. The one I wanted to murder at first glance.

He’s got his arm around a woman’s waist, and they are smiling and laughing together as they walk outside. She is pushing a stroller with a small girl sitting inside, and he is holding onto a leash with a golden retriever on the other end of it. The woman is wearing a wedding ring with a diamond so big I can see it from here, and they carry on down the street, the perfect picture of the American family.

This time, on top of wanting to blow this guy’s fucking head off his shoulders, I want to expose him for what he is. I want to confront his wife; let her know the kind of man she’s married to and what he was up to the night before. Then maybe she’ll give me the go-ahead to at least punch him in the face.

Two things stop me, though. One is that they have a kid. And growing up knowing that your dad is a complete and total dickwad is not fun. Trust me on that. I figure she’ll find out soon enough, she doesn’t need me to bring that little piece of information to light for her.

The second thing is that I realize I am just like him.

It hits me like a punch to the gut and for a brief moment it actually hurts to take a breath in. Here I am getting pissed about this random guy’s behavior when really, he’s no different than myself. We’ve both lied to her. We’ve both used her. Maybe he didn’t get to fuck her, but he would have if I hadn’t cock blocked him.

Wow, you are one giant piece of shit.

The more I think about it, the more I realize this. Instead of killing him, I should go up to him and shake his hand. Welcome him to the club of heartless assholes; maybe buy him a drink and exchange stories of how we’re the scum of the earth. Fuck, we should be best fucking friends!

Is this what I want? Do I want to spend the rest of my life in the company of these kinds of people? People who are weak and cowardly and use others for their own selfish needs? No, I do not. And I also do not want her to be subjected to more of the same. She’s already had to deal with me; she doesn’t need to go through this with someone else.

I can fix this, though. I can do what I should have done from the start. I don’t have to be like him. I have a choice.

I turn immediately and start making my way back the way I came. I have no idea what I’m going to say or how this is going to work. I don’t know how the fuck to be in a real relationship and I sure as hell don’t know how I’m going to fit into her life. I also don’t know if she’ll even want me. But I have to try this time.

I blink inside like I always do, not even thinking about it. I’m jumpy with nerves and my palms are starting to sweat. I can hear the shower running and I think about blinking in there with her, but quickly decide that I do not want to give her a heart attack or get my balls kicked in, so instead I wait.

What do normal people do in these situations? I look around me. I should do something nice, like make her breakfast. Do I even know what she likes to eat? No, because I’ve always left before I’ve needed to find out. Dick.

Eggs seem like a pretty safe bet, so I start rummaging around in her refrigerator. As I’m pulling out the carton, I hear my name and I turn to see her standing there. She is obviously confused as to why I’m here and I smile because she’s so fucking cute with that dumb look on her face.

“What are you…did you forget something?” she asks, her eyes darting nervously away from mine.

I hold out the carton of eggs I have in my hand. “Yeah, I needed to borrow a few eggs, do you mind?”

That was my lame attempt at a joke and I can see it landed so far off the mark I can’t even see it anymore. She’s staring at me with a deep crease between her eyebrows and her mouth half open like she can’t quite decide if she should say something more or hurl the nearest sharpest object at my head.

I give a short, embarrassed laugh and I set the carton on the counter and run a hand through my hair.

“Sorry. I didn’t come here for eggs.”

 “Then why are you here?”

I can hear the tremble in her voice and I know it’s because she is afraid of my answer. She’s afraid I’m going to make her feel even worse than she already does. It sucks but I understand.

“I came back to tell you…” my voice trails off because I have no idea what to say. I clear my throat and try again. “I came back to tell you a lot of things, actually. But the main thing is that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I have done and everything I should have done but didn’t. You deserve much more than I have ever given you and I am so sorry for that.”

She is still looking at me very suspiciously and she is not saying anything, so I press on.

“I’ve been trying to stay away because I think you deserve someone better than me. Someone who can be a part of your life in all of the ways I don’t know how. I still think that, but I don’t want to keep doing this anymore. I want you.”

Her eyebrows draw together even more and she blinks a few times before speaking. 

“What do you mean you want me?”

I lean up against the counter and take a deep breath. “I want you. All of you. I don’t just want the sex. I want everything and anything you want to give me.”

She swallows hard and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Five, I don’t really…I don’t know what to say.”

I nod and look at the floor. “I understand if you want nothing to do with me. I fully deserve for you to kick me out right now and never talk to me again.”

She shakes her head. “No, that’s not what I mean. Do you know how long I have wanted to hear something like this from you? It’s fucking pathetic how long. But now that I’m hearing it, I’m having a hard time believing you.”

I run another hand through my hair and down the back of my neck. “I understand,” I say again, fully expecting to get the lecture I have coming to me.

Instead, she’s walking over to me, eyes locked on mine. She throws her body against mine and hugs me tightly around my waist and I hear and feel her take a big breath in and let it out. I wrap my arms around her in return, but I don’t know what else to say.

“Don’t lie to me,” she says quietly but firmly. “If you’re lying and you leave again, you need to stay gone.”

“I’m not lying. I want this. I might not know what the fuck I’m doing or how to do any of this, but I’m going to try.” She looks up at me and I trace my fingers down the side of her face. “I know what I want, and it’s you.”

I barely register what is happening next as she jumps into my arms, legs wrapped around me, and she’s kissing me hard and deep. I don’t even know what this means yet, but I don’t want it to end. Her body is warm as she clings to me and I never want to let her go. I tell her that in between hungry kisses and I blink us both into the bedroom where I throw her onto the bed.

I have never seen her in the bright light of the day before, and she’s even more gorgeous this way. It makes me wonder what the hell took me so long. As I lie down next to her, I place light kisses on the mark I left on her neck.

“Does it hurt?” I whisper.

“Not anymore,” she says, before pulling me back in again, covering my mouth with her own.

We don’t feel the need to hurry things along this time, and we take the time to kiss and feel one another until the urge is too strong and we can’t wait anymore. When she’s fully naked and laid out beneath me, the morning sun still shining through the window, I see my map of possessive calling cards I left all over her body. I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m most definitely turned on by that.

“Damn it, you’re beautiful like this.”

She smiles and pulls me in again, opening her legs for me so I can be inside of her, which is what I’m dying for. I don’t want to rush it though, so I thrust into her slow and gentle, covering her neck and face in more kisses. When our eyes meet, I want to tell her so many things.

“You’re the only one, you know. There’s no one else,” I confess as I drag my lips across the shell of her ear.

I hear her whimper and when I look again, she’s crying. I stop, thinking I said something wrong, but she only smiles through her tears and pulls me closer with her legs, pushing her hips up to let me know to keep going.

I shove my cock in deeper and harder. I want to hear her moan and cry for me and only me. She is arching her back and clutching at my body like she’s afraid I’m going to leave right here and now. And I feel terrible that I made her feel that way. I only want to make her feel good.

“I’m sorry,” I moan against her skin as I drive into her even harder. “I’m sorry.”

I pick up her leg and put it on my shoulder, making her mouth fall open as she lets out a loud cry.

“Oh fuck, Five…” she screams.

Just hearing that is almost enough to make me come, but I want more and so I ram into her harder and faster until her loud moans match the rhythm of my fucking. I want to fill her up again, make her mine again, and listen to my name emanating from her mouth in long sobs.

“You’re mine,” I tell her, and I can’t even stop myself. It’s all I can think as I desperately thrust into her, as hard as I dare without hurting her.

I groan, closing my eyes, as I feel her hand in my hair, threading her fingers through it. Her touch feels so good and I let her pull my face down to hers so she can kiss me again. I love the way she kisses me.

“I’m yours,” she responds before throwing her head back, exposing her neck, and I want to leave more marks on that beautiful skin, but I resist this time.

Instead, I bury my face in between her neck and shoulder and keep fucking her. She’s writhing and clawing at my back and she’s on the edge of coming. So, I keep doing what I’ve been doing and pound into her hard and relentlessly. She reaches down between us to finger her clit and the sight and feel of that is too much, because holy fuck, is that hot.

“Oh shit, baby, I’m…” I groan loudly as I unload inside of her at the same time she is shaking and shuddering beneath me.

Afterwards, when we’re both gasping for air, I pull out but I don’t move off of her. I want to stay right here, with her legs and arms wrapped tightly around me, feeling her breath against my neck and her fingers tracing over my skin. I’m so filled with every emotion imaginable and I don’t even know what to say or do. So, I say the only thing I can think of that might somehow convey everything.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, my mouth pressed against her sweat-damp shoulder. “I’m sorry,” I tell her as I move to her face, kissing her mouth, her cheeks, and her forehead. “I’m sorry,” I confess as I lay my head on her chest and close my eyes against the hot tears I can feel forming behind my eyelids.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

I’m chanting it like it’s somehow going to erase all of the things I have done. And not just to her. I’m sorry for so many things I can’t even name them all. But once I start saying it, I can’t stop and I’m just so fucking sorry for everything in my goddamn life. And I know it’s not going to change anything, or change the kind of person I was and still am. I know that. Still, it keeps rising out of me, taking on a life of its own, and I can’t seem to stop.

“I’m sorry…”

“Five, it’s ok. Five, look at me.”

I finally shut up and open my eyes to look at her.

“It’s going to be ok,” she says softly. “We’re going to be ok.”

I don’t even know what to say to that because I want to believe it so badly, but it’s just so hard to. I nod my head and kiss her lips and move off of her so I can lie next to her instead. When I pull her to me, her back to my chest, I feel the best I’ve ever felt. I still don’t know how to do this, or how to fix things, or what tomorrow is going to bring. But I’m going to stay this time, I know that much.

She is my weakness and my strength and everything that makes me whole. She is finally mine.

[himbohargreeves]

I know the fandom has dwindled a little but I really wanted to do something to show we care and that we can pull together for a good cause, so I've set up a fundraiser to try and raise some money for those affected by the conflict in Palestine.

Anera is a great charity which has been providing aid to Palestinians displaced by the conflict for over 50 years by distributing food, hygeine kits, medical aid, and more. You can read about all of their ongoing work on their website here.

As an added incentive I will be creating small doodles or 500-1K word fic drabbles to anyone who provides proof of donation, and I would love if other fan artists and writers would get involved too! Please give what you can or rb to spread the word. Thank you ❤🍉