#number 5 smut
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𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆 - 𝒑𝒕. 2
five hargreeves x reader
word count: 1.7k
part one. part two. part three.
summary: after you discovered a deli full of alternate versions of your cheating husband, you realize they would never hurt you the way he did. once he finds you getting comfortable with another version of him, you'll have to work together to figure out how to save the world.
authors note: thank you so much for all the notes on part one! i appreciate it so much since i thought no one would ever see it. here's the highly requested part two, enjoy!
You could tell it was him right away. Your Five had burst into the deli like he was crashing a wedding. When you walked in, every Five had a look of awe displayed across his face, but now that look was replaced with anger and disappointment.
You could tell Five had shrunk a bit under the gaze of his counterparts yet he firmly walked over to the booth where you were sitting with the new Five that you had been talking to. He had a shameful look in his eye yet held a stoic visage. Glancing down at your gentle hands still firmly held in the palms of the other Five, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked between the two of you.
“What- what is this?” He scoffed in an annoyed manner, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing yet somehow he knew exactly what was happening.
The Five across from you gently released your hands as his eye twitched and he stood up and faced your Five. Even though they were both exactly the same height, you could tell they were challenging each other by standing up a little straighter, your Five standing slightly on his toes.
New Five had an angry clench in his jaw yet held a slight smirk. He addressed your Five in a low tone, “You must be a fluke if you think you can just apologize and win her back because there’s not a single Five in this room that would hurt her the way you did.”
You looked up at the two of them from your seat in the booth. You hadn’t mentioned how your Five had hurt you, what he’d done to lose you. How could this Five have known? Still however, you appreciated his defense. You had always thought it’d be pathetic to see two guys fight over you, but to see two versions of the same man, one who has hurt and wronged you and the other who holds an unconditional and undying love for you, it ignited a spark in you that you thought you’d never feel again in your existence.
Existence.
Once the new Five finished his sentence you could see the offense on your Five’s face as he prepared a rebuttal but you shut that down quickly.
“Enough,” you held a hand out as if to break the aggressive tension between them, “this is irrelevant. We need to discuss a plan.”
Your Five took this as an opportunity to occupy the seat next to you in the booth but new Five beat him to it by pulling him back by the arm and sliding in next to you, as well as placing a hand on your thigh.
Your Five was taken aback by the action yet quickly regained his composure as he settled into the seat across from the two of you.
Waiter Five stopped by once again to drop off another mug of coffee for your Five as well as to top of your mug and Five’s. You thanked him and took a sip as he waltzed away with a wink. You watched as your Five took a sip from his mug which he immediately spit back out. The deli of Fives erupted in laughter as both you and your Five looked around confused.
The Five sitting next to you whispered an explanation in your ear, stating that Waiter Five had poured a couple of salt packets into his coffee rather than sugar. You grinned and hid your laugh in the shoulder of the Five next to you, him still facing you, your foreheads nearly touching. Your Five watched with a heartache as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin and set it back down on the table.
The laughter had mostly died down, excluding a very sloshed and disheveled looking Five who continued to chuckle and hiccup while leaning against a door.
You were still leaning slightly onto the Five next to you as he spoke, “So I take it you figured out the subway system by now”
“Alternate versions of the same moment in time?” Five asked.
“Correct,” the other Five responded, “We’re all you from alternate timelines. Most of us here have given up on trying to fix the broken timeline.”
Your Five listened with a befuddled look on his face and before he could question the words of the Five before him, you piped up an explanation, “It’s us who shattered the original timeline.”
“Thank you, dear,” said the Five next to you as he brought an arm around your shoulder. You couldn’t tell if he was being this affectionate because he really missed his y/n or because he could see how badly it was ticking your Five off but either way you wanted to play along, leaning into his affection.
He broke your gentle eye contact to once again address the Five glaring at you both.
“The timeline was shattered the moment we came into existence, leaving us with an infinite number of alternate timelines in an infinite loop of trying to save the world,” he said in a tired voice.
You took a moment to really look at him, he looked so exhausted.
So did your timeline’s Five.
So did Drunk Five, Waiter Five, and Brisket Five.
Sure they looked content in the deli, as it was their place to escape, but the tired looks in their eyes really showed how hard they had tried and how worn out it made them.
You didn’t realize it but you were staring so deeply into the eyes of your timeline’s Five. With such a soft look he thought would never come his way again. You felt sorry for him. You really did but there is nothing that could excuse everything he did. Nothing could excuse the betrayal and heartbreak he caused you. That was his fault and he would have to deal with every ounce of guilt and shame that accompanied him in his downfall.
His eyes met yours, the green shining with sorrow as he attempted to convey all his feelings through his irises. You both knew your relationship would never be the same, even if you survived the Cleanse. There was just too much that couldn’t be undone.
You broke the connection first, turning away to look at the tiled floor of the deli instead.
Your Five continued to look at you.
Your eyes. Your hair.
He never could’ve loved Lila like he loved you, how could he have thrown you away so easily?
His love for you was what kept his fire burning all these years. His love for you ignited his passion for saving the world, just so you could live safely.
Just so you could live without surviving on cockroaches or the roof of a crumbling library.
Just so you could live without having to kill in fear of being killed.
Just so you could live a happy and comfortable life, even if it no longer meant a life with him.
You clenched your jaw in thought before turning to the Five next to you, “What can we do? I mean, there has to be a way out of this.”
He looked at you with an answer he was sure you wouldn’t like, “The only way this cycle will end is if you cease to exist. You have to let the marigold combine with the durango in the Cleanse.”
You raised a brow, “Just the marigold?”
Five looked at you confused, “Yes, the marigold infected our mothers the moment the timeline was shattered.”
“So it’s not actually us that’s the problem?” You waved your finger in a circle, gesturing to yourself, Five, and his absent siblings.
“Technically not,” Five confirmed.
You leaned back into the seat as Five returned his arm to his side. You bit your lip as you tried to remember anything that might help you come up with a plan, then it hit you.
Viktor.
You remember how he told everyone that when he lived on the farm back in Dallas, he saved Harlan, the little boy who drowned in the lake, by giving him some of his marigold.
You also remembered that he was able to take away the marigold in the barn, and whatever was left back at Hotel Obsidian.
You lifted your head, your eyes bright as the idea swirled in your mind.
You brought your hands onto the table, finding that you explain best with random hand motions, “What about Viktor, he could absorb our marigolds and transfer out his own into the Cleanse. That way the marigold and durango meet but we won’t have to die, we just won’t have our powers again.”
Both Fives were silent for a moment as they contemplated your plan. The Five next to you was the first to react by holding your face in his palms and planting a kiss between your brows. “Darling,” he admired, “You’re an absolute genius.”
Your timeline’s Five frowned in disagreement and jealousy, “What about Ben? If we combine our marigold with the Cleanse then he’ll die in there.”
“That Ben was an asshole anyway,” you shrugged, honestly not caring since he was the reason you were in this dilemma in the first place.
He hummed in agreement, not able to argue with you on that. He stood up and so did the other Five so he could let you out of the booth.
Your Five didn’t want to hang around for goodbyes, you had come up with a plan and that was that. He grabbed your arm and tugged you towards the door. The other Five quickly grabbed your other arm to hold you in place.
“Once this is all over, don’t go back to him. There are plenty of Fives here who will treat you so much better,” he winked at you as cheers of agreement ensued across the deli.
A blush came across your face as you looked around at the hopeful smiles of every Five in the room.
Maybe you didn’t have to stop loving Five.
You just had to let go of one.
You slightly nodded and winked back at Five as he let go of your arm, letting your Five tug you back towards the subway with an upset stomp. Looking back with a little wave, you walked out as Drunk Five yelled, “Auf wiedersehen!”
☕︎
part three.
authors note: hopefully you guys enjoy! originally i didn't plan on making a part two but i'm glad you guys liked it so much. my inbox is open for any requests and please let me know your thoughts in the comments!
taglist: @madscamp02 @buttermilkpetals @leitor-sonolento @ren-ren23 @alavit @tofueater78 @buzzbuzzlilbee @clownwritesfanfic @beanzwritez @pholuvre
(hopefully i did this right??)
#five hargreeves imagine#five hargreeves#number five x reader#brisket five#number five#five hargreaves x reader#number five fanart#brisket five x reader#five hargreeves angst#five hargreeves imagines#five hargreeves headcanons#five hargreeves x reader#tua five#number 5#five x you#the umbrella academy#tua s4#tua spoilers#tua season 4#umbrella acedmy#angst#five tua#five hargreeves smut#five hargreeves x reader platonic
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leo valdez with a breeding kink… i’d literally give that man anything he wants 😫
OHHHHHH FUCK ME. I WANNA KISS YOU ON BOTH CHEEKS FOR THIS ONE. Leo does not realize he has a breeding kink until it hits him like a fucking semitruck. you're with some family and friends at a little get together, and you end up looking after a baby cousin to give their parents a break. you have the kiddo on your lap while you chat with your friend, and when Leo gets back with drinks he nearly drops them. Boom. Light switch on, breeding kink in full force. He doesn't even realize what's happening, not quite yet, but all he knows is that it's going to take every ounce of self control he has to wait until the party's over. after a physically painful eternity that he suspects is his eternal punishment from the gods worse than pushing a boulder or being strapped to a boulder or holding up a planet sized boulder (it's maybe an hour and a half max) you're finally on your way home. He nearly pulls an irish goodbye just to get his beautiful beautiful hands on you sooner, and Leo is NOT the type to leave without at least a dozen hugs and cheek kisses and leftovers and plans to meet up next time, so you know something must be going on with him. the only reason he doesn't fuck you in the car (and he is this fucking close) is because he knows that he wants to take his time with you. Also, he can get pretty vocal. Also so can you. (anyone would with him jfc) so he keeps his hand on your thigh while he drives. He rubs it, inches it up higher and higher, higher than he ever has outside the bedroom until he's practically fingering you in the passenger seat. Honestly you wouldn't complain if he did. The sound of your flustered, surprised giggle when he pick you up and carries you into your house over his shoulder, all unga bunga like something primal has woken up inside him. And it has. When he lays you down on your bed which is still descheveled from the fun you'd had that morning, when he kisses you like he's hungry and strips you down like he's unwrapping a christmas present, neither of you know what's gotten into him yet. But he knows one thing for damn sure.
There's no way in hell he's pulling out tonight. Or ever again, if he's being honest.
So really, you'll both find out what's gotten into him (and you) in about nine months
#drabbles#leo valdez smut#leo valdez#leo valdez x reader#heroes of olympus x reader#heroes of olympus smut#heroes of olympus drabbles#FUCKING THANK YOU FOR THIS#LEO VALDEZ BREEDING KINK LEO VALDEZ BREEDING KINK#“mmm... just one or two more. maybe three.”#with his mad engineering skills???? you could afford a whole ass brady bunch#as your bump gets bigger he starts holding it up for you to take the pressure off your back#he loves that it makes you feel better and he LOVES the little sigh you make when you rest your head back against him#and there's baby number 5 /hj#just hearing him say the words “knock you up” and you black out immediately#NNNGGGGGHHHHHHH I NEED HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!
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The Boy A Five Hargreeves / Female Reader Insert
Created for an Anon request (rated mature for explicit sexual content)
Warnings: 18-yr old Five, Lots of Smut, Five being soft and also not, CIA setting but with none of the other things happening from season 4
Anonymous asked:
will you do one or just some scenes with Five being soft with a girl he's falling for? Like first kiss stuff or other more intimate things between them? Or any stuff with him letting his guard down for someone for the first time- not with Lila please. Explicit or not explicit. Anything like this. Ty:-*
(For those of you who are awesome and have read all my stuff before this little smut filled story, you might notice some similarities in this one to some things my 16-year-old version of Five went through in 'Number Five and the Girl.' No worries this is much different, but I thought I'd mention it because so much of what I've written already could have filled this request, so I borrowed some ideas from hot little moments I'd sort of done before to add some fun to this Five's adventure.)
Note~This quarter end treat is broken into 5 parts of smutty progression-Your Welcome😂
The Boy
Part One: The Push
Like you had been for the last two months since Five had been assigned as your mentor and you started training with him, there you were, attached at the hip.
Walking down the hall towards your room at the CIA training facility, instead of him treating you to his endless cold glares and his usual lines of belittling bullshit, Five didn’t seem to mind as much that he’d been paired with you. Today, he seemed more than okay with it as indicated by the way he had been eyeing you up like he wanted to do much more than spar with you while the other recruits made jokes about you kicking his ass.
After asking him if he’d like to come back to your room so you could change into something warmer and then go get something to eat together somewhere better than the CIA building’s cafeteria, like he’d never done before, Five followed you, but then he was hesitating at the threshold of your room.
Playing the gentlemen and your superior, you could tell that he wasn't going to budge, so you reached out and pulled him in, shutting the door behind him. Five Hargreeves was not the type to be led by anyone, and before this he had been acting like he loathed you, so him giving in so easily was very surprising, but also very encouraging.
You felt the tension building between you all day. On the outside, Five seemed calm and in control like always, but his eyes gave him away. The way he looked at you told you a much different story when it came to him wanting to keep things strictly professional.
Feeling braver, you started thinking.
Earlier, Five and the other agents were talking about how most altercations aren’t the type where you get to stand and face each other, and even worse, during the fight, you usually both end up on the ground where things get dirty. They all said you needed to practice more realistic scenarios, but Five, as your assigned partner, didn’t seem too keen on putting his hands on you in any way that may have been considered too rough. He also didn’t want to let anyone else touch you.
Finally giving in, to your shock, as Five braced himself behind you, directing you to get out of his chokehold, his embrace was more like that of a lover than an attacker. His soft breaths tickled your ear from behind as they cascaded down your neck. When he ordered you to drop to your knees, your mind going all sorts of places other than where it should have been, you did as you were told, throwing all your weight back into him.
Falling back, your body landing on top of him, he started laughing at you, and his laughter was almost just as alarming as his dimpled smile that had been charming you anytime that he had been willing to grace you with it.
You had just crushed him, almost elbowing him in the dick, but the thing worrying you wasn’t his nuts. You were falling for him.
On your walk back to the dorms, giving Five a hard time, you said, “Why not start practicing more realistic takedowns? Why are you handling me with kid gloves?”
Five gave you one of his adorable side smirks as he leaned in, whispering in your ear, “I can be harder on you if you really want, but I’d prefer to do that without an audience of assholes.”
Hmmm? You were alone now?
Five was looking around, taking in the general chaos that was the room you’d been sharing with one of the other trainees. His eyes stopped on your bed.
“Sorry. It’s really messy in here,” you said.
Five looked back up. “No, it’s not bad. Don’t apologize. You should have seen the messes my siblings made of things in the house I grew up in. This is nothing.”
“Didn’t you say you had five brothers and one sister? That’s a lot of male mess going on. Where was it you said you grew up again?”
Five didn’t answer. Instead, he sucked in his lower lip, wetting it as he looked around again. He glanced over at the few things you were allowed to keep with you while in training. He swallowed. He was staring at you so intently. He was so hard to read sometimes, and this was definitely one of those times.
He seemed nervous and now you were too.
He cleared his throat as his lips turned up again. “I like working with you," he said, casually tucking his hands in his pockets. "A lot actually."
Five had no idea how handsome he was with those animated expressions of his, or how cute he was, awkwardly flirting with you. Not wanting to break the magical moment, you decided to flirt back.
“So, you wanted to see how I handle a little groundwork, but in private?” you dangled while raising both your eyebrows.
He shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head to the side. “It’s not a bad idea if you want to be able to defend yourself.”
Again, there was an air of the usual superiority in his tone that was so irritatingly him.
You scrunched your nose. “I think I can defend myself decent already, Mr. Perfect. I’m warning you now, I know how to get down and dirty. You are the one that’s the closeted softy.” You came forward, backing him closer to your bed as you moved your hand down his arm, your fingers brushing the underside of his left wrist.
Five visibly tensed, as if you’d touched him in a painful way, but there was no sign outwardly why that was. As you were looking down at the flawless patch of skin that seemed to be bothering him, he suddenly came back to himself. “You're allowed to believe that Mr. Softy crap, but it doesn’t mean you’re right,” he taunted, smiling back at you innocently.
Without warning, you pulled him closer. With a quick spin, you twisted his arm behind him, throwing all your weight into it, pushing Five on your bed.
He landed on your blankets face down, and you quickly leaped on top of him, pinning his arms behind his back to restrict his movement before he could retaliate.
“Impressive,” he huffed, laughing as he lay there, pretending to be vanquished.
Your victory didn’t last long, despite your best efforts. Five effortlessly ripped his arms free of your hold. Then he sprang up from the bed, sweeping you up with him before nailing you down on the mattress.
In one swift motion, he had you pinned with your arms above your head. He lay over you, forcing your legs wide with his knees.
“You always need to be alert," he scolded. "Things can change in the blink of an eye. If you let your guard down, you may find yourself in a position you don't want to be in."
The way he was schooling you, you knew he was genuinely trying to teach you something, but you were also surer than ever that he was testing you in a way that had nothing to do with your training.
“Oh, I don’t know about not wanting to be in this situation..." You gave him a playful wink, one you knew would fluster him. "The view isn't too bad down here. For all you know, I may have wanted to be in this position. Maybe it was all part of my master plan. Did you ever think of that, smarty pants?”
Five’s cool smile melted into something feral looking.
All at once he secured both your wrists in one of his hands. Then he painstakingly slowly ran the fingers of his other hand down the sensitive underside of your exposed left arm.
“Oh FFffff! Five! Ss-stop that's, please sto-” you laughed and gasped, wriggling like a manic as you tried to escape.
He didn’t relent. His eyes darkened as he looked down at you. You had nothing on, but your cropped workout top and equally tight spandex shorts and he was in his usual gym clothes of athletic shorts and a black t-shirt. You’d been training together like that for hours, but now your lack of normal skin covering clothing was making this feel much different than if you’d been sitting together, with him helping you study while he was dressed in his signature three-piece suit and you in your more female version of business attire.
You were in your bed of all places, and that look in his eyes, and the feeling of him pressing himself on you the way he was!
He looked so unbelievably hot and there you were laughing so hard you could hardly breathe. “Seriously, that tickles!”
“Awww,” he drawled, while looking fake sorry for you. “Ever hear that saying, you reap what you sow? I felt you trying to get a rise out of me with those evil girl talons of yours. You made me look like a fucking idiot today on the mats when you dug your fingers into my ribs, and you know damn well what you were doing had nothing to do with self-defense.”
Your frantic pleas to make him stop only seemed to spur him on more, because after that, his hand danced along the length of your exposed side, then down your quivering stomach.
“Five Hargreeves…I think they are right, you don’t fight fair,” you accused in between breathless panting.
“Doesn’t matter if you fight fair. It only matters if you win.” The sultry tenor of Five’s voice as he leaned down, humming against your skin, only furthered your inability to think.
To add to your shock, he began peppering kisses along your shoulder, then up your neck.
Five was not affectionate. He was dangerously smart, aloof, and even scary sometimes, but with that maneuver, he’d just proved that there was more to him than the closed off, emotionless person he projected himself to be.
His gentle fingers trailed across your abdomen, sending shivers through your entire body. Perhaps feeling you struggling to hold yourself together, or maybe just because he was an arrogant shit, Five suddenly had to bury his loud burst of laughter into your neck, and with it, he let his nose brush against your skin in such a loving way it made you squirm all over again.
“Doesn’t really seem to bother you…me not fighting fair and all,” he breathed. He smiled against your neck as he brought his lips back down to your shoulder.
You were sure he said something else after that, but for the life of you, you couldn’t concentrate enough to register what it was, not when his teeth were lightly nipping at the bottom of your ear and his fingers were moving back up, his thumb grazing over the mounded fabric of your top.
As he let out the quietest moan from the feel of your breasts under his hand, you couldn’t help it either when your body reactively rocked up against him.
As soon as you did that, Five abruptly pulled back from his onslaught of kisses, his hand lowering as he attempted to shift himself so he wasn’t lying on top of you as much. He looked down, his expression unreadable as he sucked in a breath, as if needing the extra air to voice what was on his mind, but instead of coming out with it, he grimaced and looked away, seeming to think better of it.
Your faces were still so close, so you rose up on your shoulders as much as he’d let you, clearing the gap. You quietly said his name, wishing he would just look at you again. It sounded like a plea, and it was.
Five’s lips collided with yours. He released your hands, while at the same time pivoting his weight on both his forearms so he could control how much of his weight he was pressing into you.
His kiss was urgent, and wild, and beautifully sloppy.
He was becoming more and more agitated the more he let himself explore your mouth with his trembling lips. His breathing was becoming heavier, and you could tell he wanted to move his hips into your pelvis more than he was already rocking and digging them.
It must have felt so good to him as is though, because he was getting hard, and the young man, who for the last few months was never the type to show any sign of vulnerability, actually whimpered, and holy fuck was that hot.
Shocked by his own verbal moment of weakness, Five pulled away again, but just as fast, you placed both your hands on the sides of his face and steered him back. Kissing him softly, you let your tongue run along his lower lip.
He shut his eyes. His expression looked so pained. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered. “If you knew all the horrible things I have done, you wouldn’t look up to me the way you do.” He opened his eyes. “On top of all that, I am way too old for you.”
Sure… Okay. All this had to be because Five was just worried that he was your mentor and that this kind of relationship wasn’t something your superiors would be okay with. That made sense but…
You smiled, then said, “Oh my God, Five! Who says I look up to you? And I am older than you, you self-absorbed jerk, who apparently never bothered to read my bio.”
With that and his exceptionally sour expression that followed, you started laughing at him, and about the entire situation because you were older. Only by a year, but really…
What was he talking about?
Five opened his mouth a few times while trying to figure out a retort, so you came at him before he could, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth with kittenish feistiness, and that seemed to rattle him like nothing else had so far, and it sent him coming back at you like a man being torn apart from the inside out.
After that, Five started to let his tongue and teeth explore more freely and it was clear that was something he had wanted to do, only like all of this, he hadn’t been sure of it being okay until you’d made the first move.
He always smelled good. You knew that before, but wow. Five tasted like what you'd think comfort would taste like if it had a taste; like the warmth of good coffee mixed with an old-fashioned dinner mint. He was the embodiment of pleasure, and his lean body was built to move in more ways than you’d seen him work it while in the gym when beating the shit out of the other much larger agents.
Having your hands free to do as they wished, you dropped them both down under Five as he lifted up just a little.
You let the tips of your fingers drift down the length of his tight stomach muscles, moving them with a feather-light touch. You inched them along slower and slower after you passed over his navel, going up under his shirt, following the thin trail of dark hair that led from there, down into his shorts.
Five's hands clenched in the sheets at your sides. Every muscle in his abdomen shuddered under your touch, quivering in anticipation as you played with the dangling strings that were meant to keep his shorts around his waist.
He pulled away from your kiss to catch his breath, burrowing his face against the side of your neck. “Holy Shit…” he breathed, in between his wet kisses. His body dropped lower, his torso falling flush against the heat between your legs for just a moment before he quickly readjusted his hips on the mattress next to you.
Before he could fully right himself by pulling back up on his elbows and roll away from you completely, you brought your hand back up to his neck, your fingers lacing through his incredibly soft hair. "It felt good. Don’t stop," you whispered.
Looking utterly broken; he began kissing your neck, moving upwards again as he simultaneously started to move his shaft against the side of your leg.
Five nipped at your ear harder than he had been before and the sensation had you digging your nails across his back, and that seemed to excite him even more. In a frenzy, he started to run his tongue along, first the shell of your ear, then anywhere he could get at.
That boy was good, and not just with a gun while at the shooting range. The ache between your legs was becoming more intense with each shameless thing he did to you.
When Five satisfied himself with marking your neck, he moved to your collarbone. It felt like he was studying every inch of you with his mouth, gauging your reactions as he went. He first kissed, then licked, then sucked gently along the rolling plains of your rapidly rising and falling chest. It felt so amazing that you had to dig your feet into the bed to contain yourself.
"Fuck," he groaned as he threw his leg over yours and repositioned himself fully on top of you.
You whined as his hardened length nudged between your legs, then cruelly moved away. Thankfully, the sound of your discontent seemed to make Five bolder, and he did it again, then moved his mouth lower, applying kisses along the edges of your workout top, playfully pulling it up with his teeth.
Your toes curled as you squirmed under him.
You were both oblivious to the world going on around you when suddenly you pulled your attention away from him because you thought you heard something. Five must have heard it too because all at once he stopped what he was doing. His entire body froze.
“Ahem,” coughed a voice from over Five's shoulder.
You leaned up, peering over him. Even before seeing her, you knew who it was.
“Hey…” you weakly offered your roommate.
She was already smiling like a total goofball, and her expression grew bigger and happier as she took in the extent of your blushing state and that of your equally turned-on partner in crime.
She mouthed, “Is that who I think it is?”
The slow shake of your head confirmed her suspicions. She cleared her throat obnoxiously, then said, “It’s about time you guys got past all your staring at each other with those disgusting puppy dog eyes.”
With his face still buried against your neck, Five let out the tiniest sound, like that of the sad little puppy she’d just compared him to, then he growled, “You have no idea what you are talking about because I have never looked at anyone like that.”
“Er, whatever you say… So, ah…sorry guys. I will just, ah…go,” your friend said as she jerked her finger and thumb back towards the hall, but she was still dawdling, enjoying the site of Five, laying there still as could be, trying so hard to pretend he wasn’t just busted while trying to dry fuck you like you were both horny teenagers that were still in high school.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Five groaned, as he started moving off of you.
Your roommate was leaving at that point, but hearing Five's frustrated oration, she turned back around, shooting you a huge cat just ate the canary grin before quietly shutting the door behind her.
Next to you, Five tipped his head back as he stared up at the ceiling. It looked like he was praying it would fall on him.
He sighed exasperatedly. “Can’t I ever get a break?”
It was obvious Five was upset about getting walked in on because this could mean his job, but you also knew that he had to be upset because he’d just totally been cock-blocked, and if he hadn't been, you weren’t sure what would have happened or how far things would have gone.
Thinking of the impressively engorged package he was dealing with in his gym shorts, you rolled over, facing him, your lower lip pouty. “Ah, yeah… So....that sucked,” you said, stating the obvious as you tried to suppress your giggle.
Five just stared at you and groaned again. By the look on his face, you were pretty sure he was ready to die, and you weren’t about to let that happen, so you were about to suggest a different kind of sucking, but first you thought you should address his other big concern.
“Hey, don’t worry," you said, laying your hand on his tensed forearm. "I swear she won’t say anything. She already knew I had a huge crush on you. Lots of girls here would die to be in my shoes because that would mean they would get to enjoy your scowls and contemptuous comments like I do.” You tried a reassuring smile, getting serious. “Really, she’s trustworthy.”
What you said seemed to help. At least it brought a smile back to Five’s tightly pursed lips.
“You are full of shit,” he shot back, not believing you, but about which part, you weren’t sure. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter,” he continued before you could insist that you weren’t lying about any of it. “If she says anything, I am done, but at least I got to hump you for three minutes, so that was totally worth throwing away five years of my hard work to get myself in this pathetically lame position that I’ve waited a lifetime to totally fuck up.”
He threw a hand over his face, then back into his chocolatey mess of hair.
Somehow, Five managed to sound both irritated, but also so funny, which was just one of the many things that made you like him so much. The light in his eyes was coming back and he hadn’t tried to touch you again. It was obvious your little moment with him was over, and he was doing his best to calm himself down, but something else seemed off.
You frowned, but you weren’t mad at all because you mostly understood why he’d said all that. You’d feel awful if he was let go because of you. Everyone knew that Five was amazing at his job. He was a bona fide genius the CIA had found at a very young age while he was crushing his studies to get through his PhD. His being a fully contracted agent in the CIA at so young was unheard of.
Compared to him, you were only there as an intern and had years ahead of you to actually get hired and prove yourself the way he already had.
Once you managed to control your brain again, you finally responded, and stopped staring at him like you wanted to be devoured by his perfect mouth.
You took your hand off his arm, then quietly said, “I suppose you’d rather not get lunch with me now?”
His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head in that way of his. “I suppose, it would be better if we didn’t,” he said with eyebrows furrowed slightly, indicating he was upset about something, but if it was about getting busted and potentially losing his job or something more, you couldn’t tell.
“That’s it then…? That is unless you want to stay," you offered, then purposely glanced at your bedding still bunched to his crotch. "You could show me a few more moves?”
After a few seconds, Five cleared his throat and grinned, making your heart skip a beat. “We better not do that,” he said, then he looked away. “You go first. I just need a minute. I’ll lock your door on the way out.”
“Okay,” you replied, your heart sinking through the floorboards.
"Okay," he agreed.
He lay there on his side, head propped up on his arm, you threw on a baggy sweatshirt and some jogging pants. After covering yourself, you turned. “See you later?”
“Sure,” he said, still staring off as if you weren’t even there.
Chapter Two:
Five Said No, But Morning Glory Says Yes
Right on que, Five woke up with his dick harder than an oak.
He was lying there on the couch in his office, having fallen asleep while working late. Back when he’d started at the CIA, not even done with college yet, he often did this, but that usually involved drinking too much then passing out.
That kind of behavior was nothing new for him, but he hadn’t done that in a while. Relieved that he didn’t have the brain throbbing start of a hangover nagging at him, he kept his eyes closed tight, like he could get his dick to go back to sleep if he willed it.
He tried to ignore it, he really did, but thanks to his physical age and the power of young guy hormones raging, his increasingly bothersome boner alarm proved impossible to turn off.
Taking a long, tired breath, then letting it out slowly, Five started mentally preparing himself for another wake and whack session to add to his already impressive record.
He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming about, only that you were together, and you were touching him down there or maybe he was touching you down there. Whatever it had been about, it didn’t matter, because once again, Five had woken up before he’d got off, and was ready to send forth his load into an innocent piece of clothing, only he wasn’t at home, so he’d have to find something else nearby to catch his mess instead. Anything would do, even destroying the shitty plastic tree someone had put on the floor next to his couch.
“Fuck that Ficus,” he breathed.
His hand flexed, ready to spring into action and get this over with, and in doing so, it rubbed along skin that was not his own. To his shock, his arm was laying over something warm and alive, and that had him immediately realizing the pressure pressed up against his hard-on was not from the couch cushion or one of the pillows.
Five never would have admitted it unless he happened to be using it for his job as a cover story while trying to fit in with other lunatics, but like so often, he was having trouble differentiating between reality and fantasy.
Seeing as how he’d woken up on more than a couple of occasions unsure if his dreams or nightmares were real or not, he couldn’t blame himself for being confused, not entirely, not when the main player in his fantasies other than Dolores was right there squeezed in next to him.
His eyes abruptly focused, taking in his surroundings, confirming what he already should have known. You had both fallen asleep while he was helping you study for your next round of exams, and there you were with him, lying on the couch in the darkness of his quiet office.
He had no idea how he ended up cuddled next to you the way he was, and even though Five had thought about it about a hundred million times since the incident in your room, things hadn’t started back up the way they had that day. He believed it was for the best, and he’d said as much, and you’d respected it, but that didn’t mean it had been easy for him.
Just being around you, doing nothing even remotely flirtatious or sexual in nature was making the tornado of butterflies in his stomach worse each day that he fought to stomp them into submission. There was no denying that, or the perpetual case of blue balls he had from watching you sashay around him in your short skirts and blouses with the top few buttons undone as if daring him to dive into your cleavage again.
He had already touched those perky pleasure pillows, and he liked doing it way too much. Five liked everything about you. The way you challenged him even when he was being an insufferable jerk. The way you laughed.
Even more than all of that. Five loved the way you smiled at him like you didn’t smile for anyone else.
Being around you made him forget all the bad things that had happened, if even for just a while.
It didn’t matter. What he’d done was a mistake. Nobody could ever really care about him if they knew the truth, and you sure as hell wouldn’t believe him. You’d think he was crazy. He’d be fired and maybe even forced into psychiatric care.
It was better this way, but so much for his plan to shut this down, and so much for being good and keeping his hands off when you considered the situation he was in now. In hindsight, looking at the out-of-control horn-ball he had become in the last few weeks, Five knew that he should have scheduled a well-defined whack-off time as a part of his daily routine, then maybe this shit wouldn’t happen when he wasn’t expecting it.
When did I become such a perverted degenerate? he silently asked himself.
He remembered you reading, leaning back after a while, kicking your heels off. Sitting a few feet away, looking over a briefing Derek had given him earlier that day, Five waited for you to finish your review so he could quiz you again. He felt himself starting to doze off.
He remembered how comfortable he was with you there.
He just wanted to stay like that with you a little longer, with the smell of you filling his lungs, with you touching his things.
He vaguely recalled trying to keep his eyes open and noticing that you looked very tired too.
Now there he was with his hand in an area on you that normally he wouldn’t have dared let it venture. It was starting to come back to him each minute he was conscious, and he was almost certain that when he started to wake up, he was grinding his morning monster on your butt, and his hand was touching you between your legs in a very inappropriate way.
It wasn’t just a dream; he had been really doing that, maybe?
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Way to go, fucking creep, he mentally yelled.
He had no right to, but Five had you spooned to him like you were his, and if you were awake, you were definitely able to feel his predicament, and also what he had been doing to you.
He shifted his weight, moving just a little, trying to give you some space and maybe if it was not too late, also try to save some face.
Just as he began to pull his arm off, you started stretching your legs, your feet twisting around his.
“Is it morning already?” you complained.
The smell of your hair filled Five’s lungs again and the pressure from you pushing back against him had his eyes popping wide.
If he had his powers still, he would have blinked away the second he’d realized where he was. That wasn’t an option anymore, but the instinct to do it was still eating at him like a spark that kept trying to burst into a flame but couldn’t.
Five was panicking; he didn’t know what to do.
You shifted again, trying to move back, but he found he had nowhere to go. He was trapped between you and the back of the couch.
“I… Ah… It’s not morning yet. I’m sorry I woke you. I must have fallen asleep," Five stammered as he tried to sit up, using the arm under his small couch pillow to push himself up. "I’m going to just-"
You captured his hand as it started slipping over your hip. You pulled him back down and he found himself falling around you again, entrapped in the exact same position.
“You’re so warm, and your office is so cold. Please don’t go yet. I like you as my blanket,” you whined while pushing back, your firm curves warm against his even warmer erection.
Five went ram rod still at the same time you did.
“I am so sorry,” he quickly tried to say, but stopped at that because he found he had no words that would explain what he’d done. Instead, he forced out the pillow from under his head and then buried his face in it, hiding from his shame like a total jackass.
The clock on his wall ticked for what felt like an eternity, neither of you saying a word. You were clearly upset, weirded out, or God help him…Five didn’t know anymore.
Finally breaking the silence, you said, “Five, stop that. You don’t need to be sorry.”
Even though he was still under his shield, Five could tell by your tone that you were trying to console him. Of course, you were the one taking the highroad. Here he was the one almost 42 years older than you and you were the one being mature.
He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, knowing he had to say something, but still not sure what would make the situation better.
“And to think," he started, "I was worried about what my boss would think if someone here found out about us and talked. It turns out I was worried about the wrong thing. This is so much more awkward than that." He groaned into his shame pillow.
Five felt you move, your hands landing on the throw pillow, forcing him to let go. When he finally had the courage to open his eyes, he was met with yours, and even though it was dark, he could tell you weren’t mad. You had turned your body towards him, your fingers already playing with the ends of hair at the nape of his neck.
Five felt like he was going to die, sure that he would if you didn’t stop touching him like that.
He was thinking about using his arm to cover his face instead of expiring. It was his only option since you’d thrown his pillow out of reach, but then he realized he may have needed more than just his arm to cover him because he could feel everything from his forehead to his chin burning bright red with humiliation.
You grinned in that way he knew meant you were trying to hold back a laugh. “You know, Five... Nobody is talking doom and gloom about this other than you, and why do you think this is awkward?”
“Oh, I don’t know… because of Morning Glory here,” he joked, gesturing down to where the small throw blanket you had pulled with you had thankfully covered the area below his waist, but it didn’t really matter because he knew, and you knew, that he was still sporting a nice sized tent for the second time you’d been alone with him in a week.
You took claim of his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, keeping your smile on for him. “Yeah…I don’t really think you can blame that all on it being morning. Unless that clock is wrong. It's not even midnight.”
You moved closer, and all at once, Five felt you press against the villain in his pants, and he let out a little puff of airy agitation in response.
“And this isn’t awkward. It’s flattering," you furthered, your sexy smile melting into something a bit silly as you added, “A healthy sexual appetite is nothing to be embarrassed about."
Your intentionally nerdy, sex ed teacher tone had somehow managed to sound even sexier than when you normally teased him, and holy fuck did Five love getting lectured by you like that.
The dirty old man in him that was thinking about spanking you for trying to steal his role as the teacher didn’t know what to say. You were obviously trying to make him feel better for his little predicament, but he still felt like a creep. Getting morning wood while sleeping next to an extremely hot girl that was way out of your league was one thing, but touching her in her sleep, like that…
What the hell was wrong with me? That was not normal! Five privately scolded himself.
“I need to-" He didn’t finish, instead, Five swiftly pushed himself up, and as discreetly as possible made sure ‘woody’ was tucked down against his leg.
He started getting up, and you moved out of his way. He swung his legs to the floor and was about to stand, but he didn’t get any further than that because you quickly turned and swung a leg over his lap, your knees landing on either side of his torso, in effect, preventing his escape as your skirt flared out, covering his lap.
“Hey, not so fast. I am not mad at you, Five. I fell asleep too, so it’s not your fault. Maybe it happened again for a reason. I knew you were dreaming a few minutes ago, so don’t be freaked out about this or what happened the other day. It’s ok, I promise.”
Your fingers moved along his scalp, playing with his hair again. The look on your face was so sincere, but then it quickly changed to something more pensive and playful as you slowly licked your lip then continued. “And just so you know, even if you weren’t dreaming, I would have been ok with what you were doing. You can touch me however and whenever you want. I thought I made that known the other day. You were the one that said no more, not me.”
The more perplexed Five looked, the more devilish you looked. Your fingers dug in as they fell to his shoulders, pulling his dress shirt even tighter in your grip.
You leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I am so wet for you right now. I am more than ok with how that clever mind of yours works, but the question is, are you, and do you want me to stop trying to convince you how much I want you?”
The things you were saying and your soft breaths on his skin were making Five’s hands shake.
“Don’t stop,” he breathed, just as your lips brushed against his cheek and you began kissing him.
Both of Five’s hands latched on to your hips so fast it was like he wasn’t in command of his own body anymore. He felt like he needed something to hold on to, to ground himself, and his hole punch filled morals weren’t working.
It was so much all at once, with real lips on his, and you on his lap and the warmth of your sex so close to his painfully hard cock. Instead of thinking about how 'wet' you said you were, Five tried to distract himself by focusing on your mouth as it moved against his. You obediently opened for him as he urgently searched your lips with the tip of his tongue, pushing for entry. The second you gave, Five darted it inside, feeling the sweet, candy-like warmth that he was coming to know was simply the taste of you.
Beside himself already, Five moaned into your mouth.
Your tongue met his more excitedly after that, and you both pushed each other for more, hardly coming up for air.
You felt so good. What you were doing to him felt so good; it was like he was in another world, with nothing but the two of you.
It was like it was with Dolores, only not at all. That was survival. She was hard and cold. You were soft and warm. She was him, and you were…fuck.
Dolores knew him. You didn’t.
Like before, Five knew this was wrong, but his hands slipped behind you anyway, pulling you closer as his hips rocked underneath you.
In moments of desperation, Five had held Dolores in his lap like this, and done the same thing, only this was so much different. He could have lost himself completely in the feeling of you and been a very happy man, but his brain kept trying to reboot and intrude.
Even as his cock was getting a nice little ride, his brain was yelling at him to stop. 'Here you go again! This is so fucked-up, and this is obviously not going to help with your not so little problem, and what the hell are you doing? You’re going to ruin this for both of you!'
He pulled away, his breath coming way too fast.
“We shouldn’t do this… I…I can’t-” he whispered, but he couldn’t help it as he let his lips mark a path along your jaw, trying to repress his agonized growl with his kisses.
You weren’t buying it, and he wasn't doing a good job selling it. Seeing where your hips were, it was obvious he was more than capable of doing this.
You softly laughed, your breath brushing his skin as your hands explored, first unbuttoning his fitted vest, then untucking his shirt, making his entire body quake with the simplest of touch as your fingers crawled up, exposing him, one small button at a time.
Not used to being touched like that, Five pulled back, dropping his head as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain some composure. You weren’t having that either. You continued to caress his heated skin with your fingers moving dangerously close to his waistband.
Unlike him, your intentions were very clear as usual, but your voice came out raspy and sweet and questioning anyway, in total contrast to how you were so self-confidently seducing him. “Five?”
He hesitantly opened his eyes and looked up at you. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyes full of worry.
“Why are you scared?” A crease appeared between your brows. “What you were doing was perfect and I want you to touch me like that. I wanted you to touch me all night,” you said, practically moaning your words.
Five was so fucking hard; it was almost more than he could take. All rational thought was gone.
When he came back up to meet you again, claiming your lips, you were ready and willing, tugging him closer with his loosened tie. Not satisfied with his state of undress, or with how you were so successfully dominating him, you quickly undid the knot and whipped the length of silk through his collar, throwing it over his head. You traced your nails down his torso with one hand and laced your fingers through his hair with the other.
Five met your advances, letting his hands float under your blouse, exploring the softness of your skin. When his fingers grazed just below your breasts, he stopped.
“Is this ok?” he asked with his mouth still brushing against your lips.
“Yes. God yes,” you whispered as you dropped your head back, moving yourself against him as he risked letting a finger glide over the lacey fabric of your bra. After a few more tentative touches, you made a soft whining sound. Five looked up, and the look you were giving him was so needy that it could have only matched his own. “They way you touch me…it’s like nobody else has ever touched me. Everything is different with you, Five. I don’t know why but it is,” you breathed.
Relinquishing his hold on your curvy hips, Five slid his hand up your back, proudly only fumbling a few seconds to get the clasp on your bra unhooked.
You let the fabric pull away from you so his fingers could slide under and caress your breasts.
Five leaned in, placing his other hand back on your ass as he buried his face against your neck. He wasn’t brave enough to take off your shirt the way you’d done to him, but this was plenty awe-inspiring anyway. He relished your body’s reactions to him and the smell of your skin as he lay gentle kisses below your ear.
Talking to himself in the way he’d spent a lifetime doing and couldn’t seem to break away from, Five asked, Why on earth have I been tormenting myself about this?
He had no answer to that, and Dolores, being not at all on his mind, didn’t chime in and give him any help like she normally did in his times of distress.
Five trailed kisses along your jaw and over your quietly gasping lips as you rocked your body against his cock. He continued to massage your breasts, stopping to feel your nipples as they grew harder, all seemingly because of his tender touch.
You moaned sweetly, letting him know you liked how it felt as he rolled the taut nubs between his fingers. Musing again, Five smiled while thinking that the only thing that would be better would be having his way with your tits.
Instead of doing that, he kissed your lips again. The hand Five had on the curve of your waist instinctively pulled you right up against him as his hips jut into yours. The sensation sent him careening, and he had to squeeze his eyes closed and think about something else or Chernobyl number two was going to happen in his pants.
The friction he had thought would help ease things, unfortunately only made it worse. His dick was so hard, it was throbbing in complaint as it lay trapped under his remaining layers of clothes. He could hardly breathe, and even more embarrassing, Five had just let out an animalistically guttural sound that had filled the entire office.
He would have been mortified that he’d done that, but when he opened his eyes, all he saw was your hooded eyes gazing back with no hint of judgment.
He didn’t even realize you had moved your hand from his chest until you were touching him, your palm cupping him tightly through his pants. Five swallowed hard, trying with everything he had not to move as you rubbed along his thigh where his dick had been trapped.
“Fuck-” he croaked out, then bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to be quieter in case there happened to be anyone else in the office working late.
“Do you want me to stop?” you asked.
“Please no,” he begged with his lips grazing your cheek.
You increased the pressure, and Five tried to pump himself up into your hand in response.
“Good, because I don’t want to," you said, then you leaned in, purring more assurances as you kissed along his throat and pulled at the top of his waistband with your other hand, loosening the inner clasp so you could zip his fly down and let your hand slide in.
As you very carefully pulled him free, positioning his erection up between you, Five cried out at the feel of you manhandling him. He had touched himself like that so many times, but with you doing it, it felt millions of times more extreme. His hand that had been toying with your breasts lost all function, other than to fall to his side, fisting the bottom of your skirt.
Your skin against his hard flesh had him seeing stars as you explored, running your palm down and up his entire length.
After getting more acquainted with what you were working with, you ran a finger over the tip of Five’s cock, doing that move to his glans, over and over. That of course made it harder for Five to think and breathe. You spread the wetness that had gathered there, smearing it under your tightened fingers, and by the time your hand wrapped around him even firmer, and you started to really move, the muscles in Five’s legs were quivering and flexing uncontrollably.
As you started jerking him off, feeling like he was having an outer body experience, Five dropped his head back, pinching his eyes closed.
He wasn’t thinking at all anymore. If you'd asked him his name, he wouldn't have been able to tell you.
“Harder-" he begged through clenched teeth.
Your hand obediently tightened.
There was nothing but the sound of wet skin, and sex, and the feeling that he wasn’t in control of any of it for the first time-ever.
Fuck. He was going to come already.
“Plea-” he desperately breathed, gazing up at your determined eyes. You sped up without him having to find the coherent words to ask for it, and he couldn’t help himself as he bucked, moving you with him as his hips repeatedly met your hand. “I am gonna cum-" he warned, but you didn’t stop.
His breath hitched, and his eyes closed again as his forehead fell against your chest.
Falling apart like he’d never done for anyone, Five began to spill.
“Fuuuuuuuuck!” he moaned, the ‘F’s’ repeating as spurts of his seed rocked his body.
Your hand slowed in pace with his erratic thrusts, but your fingers stayed around him as he rode out the final spasms of his release.
Five dropped his head back on the couch, totally drained.
You let go and slid your hand back up, letting the waistband of his briefs snap back in place when once you had him properly tucked in.
Now that it was done, Five wanted to fold in on himself and hide, to run, to…
He didn’t even know what he wanted to do. He could feel all his normal anxieties seeping back in way too quickly even though that had been unbelievable, and you were unbelievable and fuck...
When Five risked opening his eyes, he realized you had grabbed some tissues from the box on the side table and managed to catch his mess, so at least he didn’t make a total fool of himself in that way, or defile CIA property by splatter painting their stupid decorative plant. That would have been just great, blasting jizz all over that, or over himself and you in the wake of his inability to show even the slightest bit of restraint.
Someone was thinking; and it sure as hell wasn’t him.
“I am sorry,” he said, looking up at you regretfully.
You had been beaming at him happily, and to that, your face scrunched in confusion. “Why are you sorry now?”
How does one say sorry for that… Five wondered, then came up with an answer.
‘Ah…because I just blew my wad in your hand, and because I did it so fast, and because I didn’t do anything for you...and I shouldn’t be doing any of this anyway because of more reasons than I can count, and I can count really fucking high!'
Five couldn't bring myself to say all that. It wasn’t that he knew how to do the same thing for you exactly, but still, he knew he was supposed to reciprocate, and he’d watched plenty of porn over the years, so he could have at least tried.
Holy hell, he felt stupid.
“Oh no... There you go again. Five. When you get that look, I know it’s not good. For a guy that normally seems like you have the world by the balls, you worry way too much,” you said.
The urge to do something was there, but then you started to run your fingers through his hair again and Five couldn’t help the extremely relaxed feeling it was giving him, especially after what had just happened. He wanted to give himself over to it, and just like that, he did. He simply let go, letting himself feel every soft touch of your hand.
It felt like love, or what he imagined real love felt like.
He would have been completely at peace with the world at that point, but Five still couldn’t completely shake the idea that he’d messed up and that he never should have started fucking with you like this to begin with.
He dreamily gazed up at you, still not sure what to say. “That was... Fuck," he idiodically huffed, then tried again. "That felt so good. I’m sorry I didn’t-"
You cut him off with your pointer finger to his lips.
“Stop, Five. Just hush it with the apologies. If you’re worried about me, don’t be.” Your frown melted into a curious looking little smirk. “You looked like you couldn’t take much more, and watching you, like that... Let’s just say that was very satisfying and I am very glad you liked it. I may not have reached the same level of pleasure as you, but I enjoyed myself plenty." You tipped your head to the side, as if considering something.
“You’re not pissed about any of this?” he asked.
“No, absolutely not.” You gave him a sexy grin. “If you’re really worried about it, why don’t we make a deal? Next time we play around, you can call all the shots, and I’ll keep my hands to myself. I’m sure you’ll think of a way to repay me with that vivid imagination of yours.”
Biting your lip, you waited for him to respond.
Five was almost certain that you'd just given him an open invitation to touch you like he had been doing when he woke up and thinking about doing that had his now semi hard dick twinging with renewed excitement.
If he didn’t stop imagining that, then he would be fighting another massive boner, and the whole thing would start all over again. Hating himself for not being stronger than this, the voice in his head sang, Earth to Five… Do you even have a brain anymore or do you only think with your dick?
“Ok,” he agreed, breaking the silence with nothing more than a one-word answer.
He really, really did want to redeem himself, but he also needed to settle down because he could hear the wheels of Frank the janitor’s cleaning cart coming down the hall outside his door.
Knock, knock, knock…
“Shit,” Five cursed, shifting you off of him as he quickly started righting himself, zipping his fly, then quickly trying to button at least most of his shirt.
Frank tapped again as he was scrambling to pick up all the cummed on wads of tissue laying around on the floor. “You okay in there?” the older man called. “I came past earlier but…but I thought it might be better if I came back.”
“Just a minute,” Five called out, his eyes darting around the dimly lit office, seeing his tie laying over by his desk and your dress shoes laying at the other end of the couch. Your hair looked like you’d been rolling around in the hay with him, minus the hay. Realizing that his hair probably looked worse, Five also remembered struggling to keep quiet, but failing horribly. “Fuck,” he cursed, turning around, his vest flying open as he frantically tore his hands back through his messed-up man mane, only making his less than tidy cut look even worse.
As you calmly picked up your stack of books and the case files Five had kindly let you use for your essays, frowning, he looked back at you from his reflection in the small mirror hanging by the door. The way he looked only made your hardly stifled giggles even louder.
Nice going boner boy. Very smooth and so fucking tactful! he thought, while rolling his eyes at himself.
Coming up behind him, you leaned in and kissed his cheek, quieting his troubled thoughts as if you held some kind of otherworldly magic over him.
Five shut his eyes, again letting you make all the moves. He cleared his throat, then he opened the door, doing his best to offer Franke a curt-looking smile and wave him inside, so he could do his thing.
“Evening, Frank.”
The white-haired janitor looked from Five to you, his mustache quirking just a little.
Hand pushing deep in his front pockets, Five moved aside, coming out into the hall, letting the older looking man and you move past. “Before tomorrow, make sure you read over the notes I gave you on the importance of situational awareness, or there’s no way you’re going to pass,” Five called after you, trying to sound as pompously dick-ish as he normally would.
Turning back, you flipped him the bird.
Five smiled.
Watching you disappear down the hall, he promised himself this was the last time he was going to let you get the upper hand.
If he was doing this, which he evidently was, then he was going to start showing you exactly who he was. Then, maybe you’d get that he wasn’t who he appeared to be, and you’d do what he wasn’t strong enough to do, which was walk away and end this.
Part Two: Five Said No, But Morning Glory Says Yes
Right on que, Five woke up with his dick harder than an oak.
He was lying there on the couch in his office, having fallen asleep while working late. Back when he’d started at the CIA, not even done with college yet, he often did this, but that usually involved drinking too much then passing out.
That kind of behavior was nothing new for him, but he hadn’t done that in a while. Relieved that he didn’t have the brain throbbing start of a hangover nagging at him, he kept his eyes closed tight, like he could get his dick to go back to sleep if he willed it.
He tried to ignore it, he really did, but thanks to his physical age and the power of youthful hormones raging, his increasingly bothersome boner alarm proved impossible to turn off.
Taking a long, tired breath, then letting it out slowly, Five started mentally preparing himself for another wake and whack session to add to his already impressive record.
He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming about, only that you were together, and you were touching him down there or maybe he was touching you down there. Whatever it had been about, it didn’t matter, because once again, Five had woken up before he’d got off, and was ready to send forth his load into an innocent and unsuspecting piece of clothing, only he wasn’t at home, so he’d have to find something else nearby to catch his mess instead. Anything would do, even destroying the shitty plastic tree someone had put on the floor next to his couch.
“Fuck that Ficus,” he breathed.
His hand flexed, ready to spring into action and get this over with, and in doing so, it rubbed along skin that was not his own. To his shock, his arm was laying over something warm and alive, and that had him immediately realizing the pressure pressed up against his hard-on was not from the couch cushion or one of the pillows.
Five never would have admitted it unless he happened to be using it for his job as a cover story while trying to fit in with other lunatics, but like so often, he was having trouble differentiating between reality and fantasy.
Seeing as how he’d woken up on more than a couple of occasions unsure if his dreams or nightmares were real or not, he couldn’t blame himself for being confused, not entirely, not when the main player in his fantasies was right there squeezed in next to him.
His eyes abruptly focused, taking in his surroundings, confirming what he already should have known. You had both fallen asleep while he was helping you study for your next round of exams, and there you were with him, lying on the couch in the darkness of his quiet office.
He had no idea how he ended up cuddled next to you the way he was, and even though Five had thought about it about a hundred million times since the incident in your room, things hadn’t started back up the way they had that day, and he believed it was for the best, and he’d said as much and you’d respected it, but that didn’t mean it had been easy for him.
Just being around you, doing nothing even remotely flirtatious or sexual in nature was making the tornado of butterflies in his stomach worse each day that he fought to stomp them into submission. There was no denying that, or the perpetual case of blue balls he had from watching you sashay around him in your short skirts and blouses with the top few buttons undone as if daring him to dive into your cleavage again.
He had already touched those perky pillows and he liked doing it way too much. Five liked everything about you. The way you challenged him even when he was being an insufferable jerk. The way you laughed.
Even more than all of that. Five loved the way you smiled at him like you didn’t smile for anyone else.
Being around you made him forget all the bad things, if even for just a while.
It didn’t matter. What he’d done was a mistake. Nobody could ever really care about him if they knew the truth, and you sure as hell wouldn’t believe him. You’d think he was crazy. He’d be fired and maybe even forced into psychiatric care.
It was better this way, but so much for his plan to shut this down, and so much for being good and keeping his hands off when you considered the situation he was in now. In hindsight, looking at the out-of-control horn-ball he had become in the last few weeks, Five knew that he should have scheduled a well-defined whack-off time as a part of his daily routine, then maybe this shit wouldn’t happen when he wasn’t expecting it.
That thought got him asking himself the question, When did I become such a perverted degenerate?
He remembered you reading, leaning back after a while, kicking your heels off. Sitting a few feet away, reading over a briefing Derek had given him earlier that day, Five waited for you to finish your review so he could quiz you again. He felt himself starting to doze off. He remembered how comfortable he was with you there with him. He just wanted to stay like that with you a little longer, with the smell of you filling his lungs, touching his things. He vaguely recalled trying to keep his eyes open and noticing that you looked very tired too.
Now there you were, his arm wrapped around you, laying over your hip, and his hand was in an area that normally he wouldn’t have dared let it venture. It was starting to come back to him each minute he was conscious, and he was almost certain that when he started to wake up, he was grinding his morning monster on your butt, and his hand was touching you between your legs in a very inappropriate way.
It wasn’t just a dream; he had been really doing that, or he was pretty sure he was.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Way to go, fucking creep, he mentally yelled at himself.
He had no right to, but Five had you spooned into him like you were his, and if you were awake, you were definitely able to feel his predicament, and also what he had been doing to you.
He shifted his weight, moving just a little, trying to give you some space and maybe if it was not too late, also try to save some face.
Just as he began to pull his arm off, you started stretching your legs, your feet twisting around his.
“Is it morning already?” you complained.
The smell of your hair filled Five’s lungs again and the pressure from you pushing back against him had his eyes popping wide.
If he had his powers still, he would have blinked away the second he’d realized where he was. That wasn’t an option anymore, but the instinct to do it was still eating at him like the ghost of a spark that kept trying to burst into a flame but couldn’t.
Five was panicking; he didn’t know what to do.
You shifted again, trying to move back, but he found he had nowhere to go. He was trapped between you and the back of the couch.
“I… Ah… It’s not morning yet. I’m sorry I woke you. I must have fallen asleep," Five stammered as he tried to sit up, using the arm under his small couch pillow to push himself up. "I’m going to just-"
You captured his hand as it started slipping over your hip. You pulled him back down and he found himself falling around you again, entrapped in the exact same position.
“You’re so warm, and your office is so cold. Please don’t go yet. I like you as my blanket,” you whined while pushing back, your firm curves warm against his even warmer erection.
Five went ram rod still at the same time you did.
“I am so sorry,” he quickly tried to say, but stopped at that because he found he had no other words that would explain what he’d done. Instead, he forced out the pillow from under his head and then buried his face in it, hiding from his shame like a total jackass.
The clock on his wall ticked for felt like an eternity, neither of you saying a word. You were clearly upset, weirded out, or god help him…Five didn’t know anymore.
Finally breaking the silence, you said, “Five, stop that. You don’t need to be sorry.”
Even though he was still under his shield, Five could tell by your tone that you were trying to console him. Of course, you were the one taking the highroad. Here he was the one almost 42 years older than you and you were the one being mature.
He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, knowing he had to say something, but still not sure what would make the situation better.
“And to think," he started, "I was worried about what my boss would think if someone here found out about us and talked. It turns out I was worried about the wrong thing. This is so much more awkward and damning than that." He groaned into his shame pillow.
Five felt you move, your hands landing on the throw pillow, forcing him to let go. When he finally had the courage to open his eyes, he was met with yours, and even though it was dark, he could tell you weren’t mad. You had turned your body towards him, and your fingers were already playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.
Five felt like he was going to die, sure that he would if you didn’t stop touching him like that.
He was thinking about using his arm to cover his face instead of expiring. It was his only option since you’d thrown his pillow out of reach, but then he realized he may have needed more than just his arm to cover him because he could feel everything from his forehead to his chin burning bright red with humiliation.
You grinned at him in that way he knew meant you were trying to hold back a laugh. “You know, Five... Nobody is talking doom and gloom about this other than you, and why do you think this is awkward?”
“Oh, I don’t know… because of Morning Glory here,” he joked, gesturing down to where the small throw blanket you had pulled with you had thankfully covered the area below his waist, but it didn’t really matter because he knew, and you knew, that he was still sporting a nice sized tent for the second time you’d been alone with him in a week.
You took claim of his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, keeping your devil-may-care grin on your rosy lips. “Yeah…I don’t really think you can blame that all on it being morning. Unless that clock is wrong, it’s not even midnight.”
You very purposefully moved closer, and all at once, Five felt you press against the villain in his pants with your thigh and he accidentally let out a little puff of airy agitation in response.
“And this isn’t awkward. It’s flattering," you furthered, your sexy smile melting into something a bit silly as you added, “A healthy sexual appetite is nothing to be embarrassed about."
Your intentionally nerdy, sex ed teacher tone had somehow managed to sound even sexier than when you normally teased him, and holy fuck did Five love getting lectured by you you like that.
The dirty old man in him that was thinking about spanking you for trying to steal his role as the teacher didn’t know what to say. You were obviously trying to make him feel better for his little predicament, but he still felt like a creep. Getting morning wood while sleeping next to an extremely hot girl that was way out of your league was one thing, but touching her in her sleep, like that…
What the hell was wrong with me? That was not normal! Five privately scolded himself.
“I need to-" He didn’t finish, instead, Five swiftly pushed himself up, and as discreetly as possible made sure ‘woody’ was tucked down against his leg.
He started getting up, and you moved out of his way. He swung his legs to the floor and was about to stand, but he didn’t get any further than that because you quickly turned and swung a leg over his lap, your knees landing on either side of his torso, in effect ambushing him, and preventing his escape as your skirt flared out, covering his lap.
“Hey, not so fast. I am not mad at you, Five. I fell asleep too, so it’s not your fault. Maybe it happened again for a reason. I knew you were dreaming a few minutes ago, so don’t be freaked out about this or what happened the other day. It’s ok, I promise.”
Your fingers moved along his scalp, playing with his hair again. The look on your face was so sincere, but then it quickly changed to something more pensive and playful as you slowly licked your lip then continued. “And just so you know, even if you weren’t dreaming, I would have been ok with what you were doing. You can touch me however and whenever you want. I thought I made that known the other day. You were the one that said no more, not me.”
The more perplexed Five looked, the more devilish you looked. Your fingers dug in as they fell to his shoulders, pulling his shirt even tighter in your grip.
You leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I am so wet for you right now, I am more than ok with how that clever mind of yours works, but the question is, are you, and do you want me to stop trying to convince you how much I want you?”
The things you were saying and your soft breaths on his skin were making Five’s hands shake.
“Don’t stop,” he breathed, just as your lips brushed against his cheek and you began kissing him..
Both of Five’s hands latched on to your hips so fast it was like he wasn’t in command of his own body anymore. He felt like he needed something to hold on to, to ground himself, and his hole punch filled morals weren’t working.
It was so much all at once, with real lips on his, and you on his lap and the warmth of your sex so close to his painfully hard cock. Instead of thinking about how 'wet' you said you were, Five tried to distract himself by focusing on your mouth as it moved against his. You obediently opened for him as he urgently searched your lips with the tip of his tongue, pushing for entry. The second you gave, Five darted it inside, feeling the sweet, candy-like warmth that he was coming to know was simply the taste of you.
Beside himself already, Five moaned into your mouth.
Your tongue met his more excitedly after that, and you both pushed each other for more, hardly coming up for air.
You felt so good. What you were doing to him felt so good; it was like he was in another world, with nothing but the two of you.
It was like it was with Dolores, only not at all. That was survival. She was hard and cold. You were soft and warm, and she was him, and you were…fuck.
Dolores knew him. You didn’t.
Like before, Five knew this was wrong, but his hands slipped behind you anyway, pulling you closer as his hips rocked underneath you.
In moments of desperation, Five had held Dolores in his lap like this so many times, and done the same thing, only this was so much different. He could have lost himself completely in the feeling of you and been a very happy man, but his brain kept trying to reboot and intrude.
Even as his cock was getting a nice little ride, his brain was yelling at him to stop. 'Here you go again! This is so fucked-up, and this is obviously not going to help with your not so little problem, and what the hell are you doing? You’re going to ruin this for both of you!'
He pulled away, his breath coming way too fast.
“We shouldn’t do this… I…I can’t-” he whispered, but he couldn’t help it as he let his lips trail along your jaw, trying to repress his agonized growl.
You weren’t buying it, and he wasn't doing a good job selling it. Seeing where your hips were, it was obvious he was more than capable of doing this.
You softly laughed, your breath brushing his skin as your hands explored, first unbuttoning his fitted vest, then untucking his dress shirt, making his entire body quake with the simplest of touch as your fingers crawled up, exposing him, one small button at a time.
Not used to being touched like that, Five pulled back, dropping his head as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain some composure. You weren’t having that either. You continued to caress his heated skin with your fingers moving dangerously close to his waistband.
Unlike him, your intentions were very clear as usual, but your voice came out raspy and sweet and questioning anyway, in total contrast to how you were so self-confidently seducing him. “Five?”
He hesitantly opened his eyes and looked up at you. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyes full of worry.
“Why are you scared?” A crease appeared between your brows. “What you were doing was perfect and I want you to touch me. I wanted you to touch me all night,” you said, practically moaning your words.
Five was so fucking hard; it was almost more than he could take. All rational thought was gone.
When he came back up to meet you again, claiming your lips, you were ready and willing, tugging him closer with his loosened tie. Not satisfied with his state of undress, or with how you were so successfully dominating him, you quickly undid the knot and whipped the length of silk through his collar, throwing it over his head. You traced your nails down his torso with one hand and laced your fingers through his hair with the other.
Five met your advances, letting his hands float under your blouse, exploring the softness of your skin. When his fingers grazed just below your breasts, he stopped.
“Is this ok?” he asked with his mouth still brushing against your lips.
“Yes. God yes,” you whispered as you dropped your head back, moving yourself against him as he risked letting a finger glide over the lacey fabric of your bra. After a few more tentative touches, you made a soft whining sound. Five looked up, and the look you were giving him was so needy that it could have only matched his own. “They way you touch me…it’s like nobody else has ever touched me. Everything is different with you, Five. I don’t know why but it is,” you breathed.
Relinquishing his hold on your curvy hips, Five slid his hand up your back, proudly only fumbling a few seconds to get the clasp on your bra unhooked.
You let the fabric pull away from you so his fingers could slide under and caress your breasts.
Five leaned in, placing his other hand back on your ass as he buried his face against your neck. He wasn’t brave enough to take off your shirt the way you’d done to him, but this was plenty awe-inspiring anyway. He relished your body’s reactions to him and the smell of your skin as he lay gentle kisses below your ear.
Talking to himself in the way he’d spent a lifetime doing and couldn’t seem to break away from, Five asked, Why on earth have I been tormenting myself about this?
He had no answer to that, and Dolores, being not at all on his mind, didn’t chime in and give him any help like she normally did in his times of distress.
Five trailed kisses along your jaw and over your quietly gasping lips as you rocked your body against his cock. He continued to massage your breasts, stopping to feel your nipples as they grew harder, all seemingly because of his tender touch.
You moaned sweetly, letting him know you liked how it felt as he rolled the taut nubs between his fingers. Musing again, Five smiled while thinking that the only thing that would be better would be having your tits in his mouth.
Instead of doing that, he kissed your lips again. The hand Five had on the curve of your waist instinctively pulled you right up against him as his hips jut into yours. The sensation sent him careening, and he had to squeeze his eyes closed and think about something else or Chernobyl number two was going to happen in his pants.
The friction he had thought would help ease things, unfortunately only made it worse. His dick was so hard, it was throbbing in complaint as it lay trapped under his remaining layers of clothes. He could hardly breathe, and even more embarrassing, Five had just let out an animalistically guttural sound that had filled the entire office.
He would have been mortified that he’d done that, but when he opened his eyes, all he saw was your hooded eyes gazing back with no hint of judgment.
He didn’t even realize you had moved your hand from his chest until you were touching him, your palm cupping him tightly through his pants. Five swallowed hard, trying with everything he had not to move as you rubbed along his thigh where his dick had been trapped.
“Fuck-” he croaked out, then bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to be quieter in case there happened to be anyone else in the office working late.
“Do you want me to stop?” you asked.
“Please no,” he begged with his lips grazing your cheek.
You increased the pressure, and Five tried to pump himself up into your hand in response.
“Good, because I don’t want to stop," you said, then you leaned in, purring more assurances as you kissed along his throat and pulled at the top of his waistband with your other hand, loosening the inner clasp so you could zip his fly down and let your hand slide in.
As you very carefully pulled him free, positioning his erection up between you, Five cried out at the feel of you manhandling him. He had touched himself like that so many times, but with you doing it, it felt millions of times more extreme. His hand that had been toying with your breasts lost all function, other than to fall to his side, fisting the bottom of your skirt.
Your skin against his hard flesh had him seeing stars as you explored, running your palm down and up his entire length.
After getting more acquainted with what you were working with, you ran a finger over the tip of Five’s cock, doing that move over and over. That of course made it harder for Five to think and breathe. You spread the wetness that had gathered there, smearing it under your tightened fingers, and by the time your hand wrapped around him even firmer, and you started to really move, the muscles in Five’s legs were quivering and flexing uncontrollably.
As you started jerking him off, feeling like he was having an outer body experience, Five dropped his head back, pinching his eyes closed.
He wasn’t thinking at all anymore. If you'd asked him his name, he wouldn't have been able to tell you.
“Harder-" he begged through clenched teeth.
Your hand obediently tightened.
There was nothing but the sound of wet skin, and sex, and the feeling that he wasn’t in control of any of it for the first time-ever.
Fuck. He was going to come already.
“Plea-” he desperately breathed, gazing up at your determined eyes. You sped up without him having to find the coherent words to ask for it, and he couldn’t help himself as he bucked, moving you with him as his hips repeatedly met your hand. “I am gonna cum-" he warned, but you didn’t stop.
His breath hitched, and his eyes closed again as his forehead fell against your chest.
Falling apart like he’d never done for anyone, Five began to spill.
“Fuuuuuuuuck!” he moaned, the ‘F’s’ repeating as spurts of his seed rocked his body.
Your hand slowed in pace with his erratic thrusts, but your fingers stayed around him as he rode out the final spasms of his release.
Five dropped his head back on the couch, totally drained.
You let go and slid your hand back up, letting the waistband of his briefs snap back in place when once you had him properly tucked in.
Now that it was done, Five wanted to fold in on himself and hide, to run, to…
He didn’t even know what he wanted to do. He could feel all his normal anxieties seeping back in way too quickly even though that had been unbelievable, and you were unbelievable and fuck...
When Five risked opening his eyes, he realized you had grabbed some tissues from the box on the side table and managed to catch his mess, so at least he didn’t make a total fool of himself in that way, or defile CIA property by splatter painting their stupid decorative plant. That would have been just great, blasting jizz all over that, or over himself and you in the wake of his inability to show even the slightest bit of restraint.
Someone was thinking; and it sure as hell wasn’t him.
“I am sorry,” he said, looking up at you regretfully.
You had been beaming at him happily, and to that, your face scrunched in confusion. “Why are you sorry now?”
How does one say sorry for that…Five wondered, then came up with an answer.
‘Ah…because I just blew my wad in your hand, and because I did it so fast, and because I didn’t do anything for you...and I shouldn’t be doing any of this anyway because of more reasons than I can count, and I can count really fucking high!'
Five couldn't bring myself to say all that. It wasn’t that he knew how to do the same thing for you exactly, but still, he knew he was supposed to reciprocate, and he’d watched plenty of porn over the years, so he could have at least tried.
Holy hell, he felt stupid.
“Oh no... There you go again. Five. When you get that look, I know it’s not good. For a guy that normally seems like you have the world by the balls, you worry way too much,” you said.
The urge to do something was there, but then you started to run your fingers through his hair again and Five couldn’t help the extremely relaxed feeling it was giving him, especially after what had just happened. He wanted to give himself over to it, and just like that, he did. He simply let go, letting himself feel every soft touch of your hand.
It felt like love, or what he imagined real love felt like.
He would have been completely at peace with the world at that point, but Five still couldn’t completely shake the idea that he’d messed up and that he never should have started fucking with you to begin with.
He dreamily gazed up at you, still not sure what to say. “That was... Fuck," he idiodically huffed, then tried again. "That felt so good. I’m sorry I didn’t-"
You cut him off with your pointer finger to his lips.
“Stop, Five. Just hush it with the apologies. If you’re worried about me, don’t be.” Your frown melted into a curious looking little smirk. “You looked like you couldn’t take much more, and watching you, like that... Let’s just say that was very satisfying and I am very glad you liked it. I may not have reached the same level of pleasure as you, but I enjoyed myself plenty." You tipped your head to the side, as if considering something.
“You’re not pissed about any of this?” he asked.
“No, absolutely not.” You gave him a sexy grin. “If you’re really worried about it, why don’t we make a deal? Next time we play around, you can call all the shots, and I’ll keep my hands to myself. I’m sure you’ll think of a way to repay me with that vivid imagination of yours.”
Biting your lip, you waited for him to respond.
Five was almost certain that you'd just given him an open invitation to touch you like he had been doing when he woke up, and thinking about doing that had his now semi hard dick twinging with renewed excitement.
If he didn’t stop imagining that, then he would be fighting another massive boner, and the whole thing would start all over again. Hating himself for not being stronger than this, the voice in his head sang, Earth to Five… Do you even have a brain anymore or do you only think with your dick?
“Ok,” he agreed, breaking the silence with nothing more than a one-word answer.
He really, really did want to redeem himself, but he also needed to settle down because he could hear the wheels of Frank the janitor’s cleaning cart coming down the hall outside his door.
Knock, knock, knock…
“Shit,” Five cursed, shifting you off of him as he quickly started righting himself, zipping his fly, then quickly trying to button at least most of his shirt.
Frank tapped again as he was scrambling to pick up all the cummed on wads of tissue laying around on the floor. “You okay in there?” the older man called. “I came past earlier but….but I thought it might be better if I came back.”
“Just a minute,” Five called out, his eyes darting around the dimly lit office, seeing his tie laying over by his desk and your dress shoes laying at the other end of the couch. Your hair looked like you’d been rolling around in the hay with him, minus the hay. Realizing that his hair probably looked worse, Five also remembered struggling to keep quiet, but failing horribly. “Fuck,” he cursed, turning around, his vest flying open as he frantically tore his hands back through his messed-up man mane, only making his less than tidy cut look even worse.
As you calmly picked up your stack of books and the case files Five had kindly let you use for your essays, frowning, he looked back at you from his reflection in the small mirror hanging by the door. The way he looked only made your hardly stifled giggles even louder.
Nice going boner boy. Very smooth and so fucking tactful! he silently fumed while rolling his eyes at himself.
Coming up behind him, you leaned in and kissed his cheek, quieting his troubled thoughts as if you held some kind of otherworldly magic over him.
Five shut his eyes, again letting you make all the moves for him. He cleared his throat, then he opened the door, doing his best to offer Franke a curt-looking smile and wave him inside, so he could do his thing.
“Evening, Frank.”
The white-haired janitor looked from Five to you, his mustache quirking just a little.
Hand pushing deep in his front pockets, Five moved aside, coming out into the hall, letting the older looking man and you move past. “Make sure you read over the notes I gave you on the importance of situational awareness before tomorrow, or there’s no way you’re going to pass,” Five called after you, trying to sound as pompously dick-ish as he normally would.
Turning back, you flipped him the bird.
Five smiled.
Watching you disappear down the hall, he promised himself this was the last time he was going to let you get him.
If he was doing this, which he evidently was, then he was going to start showing you exactly who he was. Then, maybe you’d get that he wasn’t who he appeared to be, and you’d do what he wasn’t strong enough to do, which was walk away from this.
Part Three: Closeted Softy
One second you and Five were heading down the hall, making your way to the conference room where, in an hour, he was going to be delivering a class to other trainees on interrogation tactics, then the next, your head was spinning from how quickly Five had latched on to you and swung you around, pushing you inside a maintenance closet.
It was dark, but not completely because the light seeping in from under the door filled enough of the cramped space for you to see that a jug of industrial cleaner was sitting on a shelf, inches from your face.
Something behind Five jingled, like a set of keys or something else metal.The points of his dress shoes nudged against the tips of your toes as he moved in closer, pressing you against the wall, so you couldn’t get away. You started to open your mouth, but before you knew it, he crashed his lips into yours, silencing you.
As he pinned you in his embrace with his strong fingers digging into your hips, his kiss quickly grew deeper and more desperate, making your heart beat faster and faster. Then, suddenly, he broke away, peering at you with his striking green eyes full of the devil.
“My turn,” he said, his smile exposing more of his charmingly boyish dimple in the dim light.
His warm fingers started sliding up the length of your arms, an unexpected coldness tickling your skin as he went, bringing your hands together. The weight of his body pushing against you, Five recaptured your lips with his again, then he pinched his fingers around the metal rings he’d just sneakily slipped around your wrists, tightening the handcuffs that you had no idea he’d had with him.
“Five, wha-"
As soon as he had you strung up, the chain of the cuffs hung up on one of the hooks above your head that would normally be used to hang a mop or broom, Five’s hands moved down, pushing you into the wall even tighter. "No hands, remember,” he mumbled in way of explanation before biting down on your earlobe, his teeth stinging your flesh as he suddenly pinched your nipples through the fabric of your blouse.
You gasped in shock, feeling Five's breathily laughed sigh of happiness over it, then you felt his velvety whisper. "Was that good?"
“I think you know it was,” you breathed as you squirmed in frustration, wanting to touch him, to run your fingers along the lines of his handsome face, then down his lean frame, but able to do none of that as he peered at you through the darkness with a lopsided grin.
Five's eyes smoldered, the soft green glint in them nonexistent. Lowering his head, he started softly licking one of your nipples through your shirt, his saliva wetting the fabric so there’d be no way you could hide it when the door reopened.
“You regretting doing this with me yet?” he asked when he pulled away.
All you could do was let out the most pathetic sounding whimper, so he did it again, only this time smiling against your peeked flesh before he bit down, making your body crane up against his. That’s when he reached down between you, and started palming himself.
Five jerked his chin to the side and slowly swallowed, his Adam's apple moving accordingly while your eyes drank in the sexiness of his nervous tick.
All at once, abandoning his own need, his hands were sliding up your skirt, moving between your legs. His breath hitched as soon as he felt the heat of your desire for him wetting your satin underwear.
A growl crept up from inside Five’s throat as he pushed the garment aside, slipping it down your legs where it got trapped at your ankles, further proving how helpless you were. At the feel of his hand sliding down, you squirmed over the new sensation, but instead of giving you what you wanted, Five paused, letting the wetness of your arousal paint the tips of his fingers.
“Oh fuck, I fucking love this,” he breathed as if transfixed. That breathless declaration, along with the gentle movement of his fingers, softly and carefully stroking, hit you hard. You reactively clenched your thighs together as fresh wetness spilled between your legs.
You whimpered as he cursed again, and his finger started sliding a little harder.
You bucked against his hand because it felt so good. Equally moved, Five feverishly started kissing you, but his hand remained, lodged between your legs.
Trying to chase the gloriously erotic feeling he was giving you by feeling more of him, you tried to push closer to him, but he wouldn’t let you, dodging it by moving himself back out of your reach.
“MMmmmmfff!" you cried, breathlessly breaking away from his mouth. "Yes, Five, there!” you urged and panted, then you had to hold your breath because that was way too loud and his finger was moving just right against your clit and…”Ahhh-ah-Ffffiiiiiivvveeee!”
Standing there, his silhouette in his black suit only making him look all the more sinister, Five smiled so sweetly. “That’s it, say my fucking name.”
“Fffffuuu- Five, yeeeeeesssss,” you moaned, when his index finger moved harder and faster.
Your breathing was becoming more labored, and your heart was beating so fast it felt like it might explode. Your body was moving of its own accord, your hips helplessly wiggling against his hand. Unable to control himself, Five started to thrust himself against your leg. “Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he growled as your body rammed back against the wall from the momentum of his attack.
His index finger pushed through your folds, flirting with entering you before sliding back upwards, pressing into your clit with just the right pressure. The handcuffs dug into your skin as your back arched off the wall while he licked at your earlobe in long hot hungry swipes.
“Say it!”
“I want you to fuck me! Please, Five!”
Only furthering his claim on you, and proving none of this was in your control, Five bit down hard and sucked at the skin on your shoulder as his finger flew around your nub, gliding faster and faster in a semi-circle like motion, pushing upwards, then down with no mercy.
You bucked and thrashed. “Yes, like that,” you frantically begged.
Five slowed his pace to a stop, denying you.
He lifted his head, looking up at you appraisingly, then he slowly slipped his finger inside you. As it disappeared, your walls involuntarily clenched around it, and looking diabolically thrilled, Five moved his digit deeper inside you.
You moaned, so broken and quiet that it finally seemed to bring a little of that familiar light of worry to his eyes. “Does it hurt?” he quietly asked.
Lost in the feeling of him inside you, you shook your head.
Once your tightness could be felt along the whole length of his finger and his palm was pressed up against you, Five began to slowly move in and out to the same pace as his thumb swirling around your clit.
“Oh my god, Five,” you gasped, as your whole body struggled against his.
“Does this feel good?” he asked, determined to keep you talking as he angled his finger up, letting it drag, making you bucked up, proving that was a move worth repeating.
“Ff-fuck. Ff-feels so good,” your words trailed off as you pinched your eyes shut.
“Say that you are nothing but a little prick tease and all you want is my cock, or I’m leaving you in here and not coming back,” Five demanded, his voice sounding so low and cold.
You didn’t understand. You said nothing.
“Do it!” Five angrily hissed.
“I’m a prick tease and I want your cock,” you obediently cried.
Five pulled out of your warmth, then gently buried his middle finger and index fingers together inside you, doing it so slowly.
Watching you intently, Five gradually increased the pace and angle of both fingers. He moved them in and out, again and again, the soft wet rhythmic sound of him moving inside you, and your panting for more, driving his wrist harder and faster. Unable to stop himself, he pushed his mouth against yours, fighting to be inside you even more than he was, but soon his own breathing became too unsteady, and he was forced to pull away for air.
“Fi-ve....I am almost there… Plea-se don’t st-op!” Your teeth pierced the bottom of your lip as you closed your eyes.
“Look at me,” he demanded, and just like that you did. You were covered in a sheen of sweat, about to double if the cuffs hadn’t been holding you up and he looked like something dark had consumed him, something terrifying.
“Please…let me go so I want to touch you,” you said as you gasped and bucked against his hand, your wetness warmly slipping against his palm as his long fingers felt like they were touching your soul.
“Do this for me, like this, and it will be over,” Five lovingly urged, and that change in how he’d spoke to you and what he’d said confused you even more.
"Five!" you cried as his fingers abruptly changed pace again, violently slamming in and out of you.
Your legs all at once tightened around his hand and your insides began to clench around him. Your entire body tensed, then shuddered. You weren’t breathing at all for moments on end. When you did, it was strained, but Five’s fingers kept going at it hard, letting you ride out every moment of the orgasm he’d forced out of you.
When the clinching sensation around his fingers gradually began to slow to where he could no longer feel it, Five finally stopped moving them. You went limp against him, breathing heavily as he let you drop your head to his shoulder.
As he held you, you were letting out shaky noises of contentment, and you were sure by the way his hand trembled as he ran it up and down our back that he wasn’t feeling very steady either. You felt like you could cry it was all so much, but then, adding to your dismay, that was when Five pried himself away and you heard the sound of him starting to open his pants.
Opening your eyes, your entire body still pulsing in time to your frantic heartbeat, you were treated with faintest glint Five’s heartbreakingly infectious pale green eyes that never seemed to cease in their infinite power over you, that, and his long, hard dick in his hand as he slowly and methodically stroked it like a man that knew exactly what he was doing and didn’t care at all that he was killing you.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he said while peering at you, still strung up, locked to the wall, unable to get away unless you screamed, ending all this madness of this for both of you.
Coming forward, the ends of Five's hair tickled your heated cheeks, his erection coming all the way to the height of your navel as he whispered in your ear, “Don’t worry. We’re almost done.”
Moving back so you could see all of it, his leisured motions as he massaged his cock, Five ran his hooked index finger round the tip, carefully spreading the moisture dripping out of him down his entire length, then he began to work himself in earnest, sliding his hand effortlessly over his shaft.
Just looking at him doing that made your insides throb all over again. Tiny shivers of satisfaction danced up your spine as a low growl resonated deep in Five’s throat.
The way he was looking at you as he pleasured himself spoke of so much without him uttering a word. There was a flicker in his eyes, something pained.
His breathing was becoming more labored as he gave himself over to the feel of his hand.
His thighs were tensed, holding him upright as the expensive wool fabric of his dress pants slouched to his knees. He was so beautiful.
“I’m- I'm almost there," he gasped.
He came at you, whipping aside your skirt with his free hand, just in time for the milky white burst of cum that started to spill out of him. It spurt out, up onto your stomach, and between your legs, dripping down your thighs as he shuddered and grasped, erratically jerking his hand at his sensitive tip with the final jolts of his release.
When Five felt the final waves of tension in him ease to an end, he let go of his cock, but not before giving the thickly engorged length one final pump, that made his eyes fall shut.
Stumbling forward, he collapsed into you, shuddering all over again.
“Holy fuck,” he breathed while shakily wiping his forehead with his forearm.
“You can say that again,” you agreed as his face nuzzled against your neck.
Looking out of it, Five glanced down between you. Even in the darkness he could see what he’d done, his release glistening all over your body and clothes.
“That was not exactly what I meant to do to you,” he apologized, as he immediately reached over to the shelf, swiping a roll of paper down so he could start cleaning his cooling seed off your stomach and even some that had flung up between your breasts, leaving chalky stains on your black blouse that there was no way his efforts could remedy.
As Five attempted to erase the visible evidence of what he’d done, to you, his expression appeared to be a mixture of fascination and shame, and before seeing that look on one face, you weren’t even sure those two emotions could happen at the same time, but with Five, you were starting to realize anything was possible.
Throwing the soiled towels to the floor, he silently reached up, releasing you from your restraints. Still not letting you go, his warm fingers rubbed your wrists, so tenderly as he lowered your arms and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, everything about his behavior so unlike his urgent kisses and crazed demands from before.
It felt so good to be worried over by him like that. He pulled you firmly against him, his chin resting on your shoulder. The hold he had on you felt possessive but also is heartbreakingly desperate as you both took in the uncertain afterglow of something neither of you could put to words.
After a few minutes, you tried to push away enough to look him in the eye, but the moment you did, Five turned away from you and popped the door open.
“Five, what’s wrong?”
Not answering you, he stepped out, then he stopped a few feet from the door and looked down at his shoes, with his dark hair falling over his face.
“Five, wait,” you snapped at him when he started to walk away again.
Mid-step, his hands clenched at his sides. “No. Go back to your room and change, then go straight upstairs and tell them you need to be transferred to another office,” he quietly said, then walked away.
Part Four: Not Five’s Dolores
You did go straight to your room like Five had told you to do, but you didn’t go upstairs and request a transfer. You ended up being late for the session Five was leading, thanks to having to change, and fix your tear-streaked makeup, and pull your head together enough to face him, but as it turned out, as the other trainees filled out of the conference room an hour later, he wasn’t even in there with them.
He'd bailed and another agent had led the class.
Over the next week, Five was nowhere to be seen, which meant you had no mentor and had to buddy up with your roommate and hers, a middle-aged guy who was not at all as easy on the eyes as Five, but at least he hadn’t ruined you. That was about the best thing you could say about Barry Carponelli and his questionable shirt stains paired with the oppressive smell of stale cigarettes that always seemed to be wafting off him.
Five did not smell like that. Five was…
Five was an asshole.
After another training session, sparring with Agent Smelly, you slung your gym bag over your shoulder, ready to be done with all of it.
“Hey, kid,” Barry called after you. You turned. “You know, before I came down here to teach you girls how to do more than those pansy ass moves Five is always doing in here with you, I heard someone say that smug little prick was finally back. If I took that many days off, I’d be fired. I have no idea why they put up with him. You’re better off without him,” he said, then plucked a smoke out of his pack and strolled past, leaving you filled with renewed purpose.
This wasn’t over until you said it was. Fuck Five.
Racing up the stairs to the admin offices, you went straight to Five’s door, just as his assistant Derek was coming out. “Is Five available,” you asked.
“No. He just left for the day,” the small statured blonde male answered, looking at you curiously. “Do you need me to leave him a message?”
“No,” you quickly replied, glancing at Five’s office door. “I think I left one of my notebooks in there the other day. Do you mind if I go in and look for it?”
“Go ahead,” Derek said, opening Five’s office door wide, making it clear he’d be keeping an eye on you.
Politely nodding your thanks, you went in, heading for the couch, but as soon as you heard Five’s assistant getting distracted by someone else, you darted for the desk.
Pulling on the drawers, you realized most were locked. “Shit,” you quietly cursed, looking around the clean surface of Five’s workspace, but then you saw it. Sticking out from under a paperweight that was shaped like an umbrella that had been turned backwards by the wind, you saw a piece of mail. It was personal. It was a bill with Five’s address on it.
You smiled. “Found you, you bastard.”
A few hours later, just before sunset, you were in a shady neighborhood that was not at all where you’d expected Five to live based on his job and his outward appearance being that of someone that looked like they had much higher standards than the rundown building you were standing in front of.
Going inside wasn’t much better. Since the elevator was broken, you had to step over countless piles of trash in the fire escape stairwell on your way up the fifth floor.
By the time you had gotten to his door, you were second guessing yourself.
Raising your hand to knock, you finally came to your senses. Confronting Five would do nothing to change what had happened. First thing in the morning, you would put in your transfer paperwork.
Then, just as you were lowering your hand and turning to leave, a tall curly-haired guy, several years older than you, or more, opened the door. He looked as startled as you, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he looked you up and down.
“Tell them, I am not coming, and stop coming over without calling first! I told you I am fine!” Five yelled from somewhere in the apartment.
Saying nothing, the stranger looking back at you as he stood there wearing the strangest poncho made of bubble wrap, lifted a finger to his lips, silently motioning for you not to say anything, then he came out.
Once he’d shut the door, he said, “Hi. I am Klaus, Five’s brother. And you are?”
You said your name, and just as fast, his eyes lit up. “Right… I thought maybe it was you…” He grinned. “So…” He pulled his lips to the side. “I suppose you were here to tell off that angry little shit rat in there?”
“I was, but I changed my mind.”
“Since I’ve heard all about you, and I’m sure Five has told you all about me and the rest of his wonderful family, and your plans have changed, and it looks like neither of us have shit to do now, would you like to join me for a stroll to this really nice smoothie place a few blocks away? It’s got the best add-ins, like lemongrass and all sorts of other healthy crap that really boosts the old immune system and keeps the reaper away.”
Five told you nothing about Klaus and almost nothing about his personal life that didn’t relate directly back to his work at the CIA. He’d used you to get his rocks off and that was that, but you didn’t say that because something told you this peculiar Klaus guy already knew that his brother was a first class asshole..
Opening your mouth to decline, Klaus must have seen it coming, so he stuck out his bottom lip. “Pretty please… This neighborhood is scary, and I walked all the way over here to check in on that grumpy old man child and he’s being such a dick head, and I know something’s up with him other than his normal lonely mopey thing, but like always, he won’t talk about it. He’s always shutting us out and I know he likes you and something happened and-"
Taking a risk, you cut Klaus off. “You know what, I am in the mood from some anti-grim reaper juice.”
Giving you a toothy smile because he’d totally got you, the next thing you knew, you were being escorted down the street by Klaus Hargreeves, with him babbling on and on about things that seemed so far out there that they should have been part of a science fiction comic book rather than about what it was like growing up as part of something he called, The Umbrella Academy.
Hours later, after confirming Klaus was not on hallucinogenic drugs, or drunk, or just plain out of his mind, you had heard an earful and then some. After everything Five’s brother had told you, about them all being born with superpowers, their horrible alien father who adopted them, their lives going to shit, to them all being stripped of their pasts and powers and left to fend for themselves in this new timeline, you didn’t know what to think.
It was clear that Klaus believed all of it. And he was very interested to hear your version about what had happened between you and Five, and when he did, like you’d suspected, he was not at all surprised by it.
“You’re the only one he’s ever done any of that with, and I mean like the only one, other than his plastic woman relationship thing. Five is not the bad person he thinks he is,” Klaus said, just before parting ways. “He’s just been through hell and back, over and over, and sometimes, I think he gets stuck not knowing how to move on from all that, you know…”
You didn’t know. You didn’t know what to think about any of this. What he’d said happened to Five was so bad, it was on another level of awful and unbelievable. Nobody would be okay after that, no matter how strong they were.
Piecing together the strange things Five had said to you, things like him being older than he looked, and that he’d done unredeemable things, it made sense now, but still…
Wow.
You did your best to act normal and not too weirded out. You liked Klaus. Klaus was the kind of person that was hard not to like, but it was hard not to be very weirded out.
Saying goodbye after you’d made sure Klaus was only a few blocks from his sister’s house, well out of the dangerous area of town that Five lived in, you were left alone again with your thoughts going haywire.
It was late, almost past midnight. Not even thinking about where you were heading, soon you were back, looking up at Five’s building.
Questioning your sanity, you lightly tapped on his door.
He didn’t come.
You knocked again, only louder.
A whole minute later and after several more knocks, startled and swaying as he flung his door open, Five blinked his eyes rapidly at you as if trying to clear his vision.
You looked down at the half-drained liquor bottle in his hand and the fuzzy dog slippers he had on his feet. To match his look of disheveled drunkenness, Five was wearing nothing but a dark blue bathrobe that came to just below his knees.
“This was a very bad idea,” you said, under your breath, already turning to go.
Five’s voice cracked as he said your name. “…Please come back. I didn’t mean to-”
He wiped at his eyes.
Five took a small, very defeated looking breath. “I tried to leave you alone, but I just..”
“You just what?” you asked, coming back when he didn’t finish, stopping right in front of him with your fingers tapping at your hips.
Five held your accusing stare but just barely. “I just… I don’t deserve you and you could do a million times better than me.”
“Why because you’re a 63-year-old, ex-temporal assassin who’s stuck inside the body of an eighteen-year-old asshole who’s got his panties in a twist because he can’t teleport anymore?”
Forcing himself to stand up straighter even though it was clear that he was a drunk mess, Five swallowed, his face looking entirely serious. “Actually, we don’t call it teleporting. It’s called blinking, and you’re right, I can’t do that anymore, and if I wore panties, yes, they’d be in a twist about it.”
“Teleporting! Blinking! Five! What the hell difference does it make when I just walked into the twilight zone!”
Eyes wide, Five reached out, pulling you inside his apartment.
It was small, dimly lit, the furniture minimal. You could see almost all of it in just one quick glance. An outdated, beat-up kitchen on one side, two reading chairs next to an overflowing bookshelf made up his clean, but tiny living area. There was a bedroom door filled with darkness off to your left. Everything was old and used, but cozy looking. It was exactly the kind of unassuming hideaway you would have expected the extremely traumatized person Klaus had told you about would feel safe.
It was the embodiment of Five: the old man who’d cared about everyone else, but had given up on himself, and the innocent boy who’d been used and abused, who would never be able to stop fighting and hoping for a chance at something better.
“Do you believe it? Everything Klaus told you?” Five asked, looking at you with glossy eyes.
“I do.”
“Then why are you here?”
Pointing to the chair you were pretty sure Five had been sitting in based on the way the other looked like nobody ever sat in it, you let out a loud exhale. “Sit,” you ordered.
Five turned and stumbled back to his chair, dropping down in it clumsily, where he proceeded to almost spill his liquor, then slumped like a sad child that had just been told to go sit in the corner.
Coming over, kneeling in front of him, Five tried to put his legs together before you could position your body in a way that prevented it, but he didn’t move at all fast enough.
“Not this is how it’s going to go,” you said, gripping his knees. “I’m going to ask you something and you’re going to tell me the truth. Do you understand?”
Five nodded.
“Do you have feelings for me?” you asked.
“Yes.”
“What kind?” you countered.
“The kind that I shouldn’t have.”
You shook your head and spread his knees farther apart, making his terry cloth robe spread, exposing the snow-white skin of his inner thighs. “Elaborate,” you pushed. From what you could tell, Five wasn’t wearing any panties, just like he’d said. He wasn’t wearing anything.
The line between his eyes deepened as he answered you. “I have the kind of feelings for you that make me wish I was someone you could love.”
Slowly, you started moving your hands from his knees, heading under his robe, stopping just shy of the danger zone. “You don’t get to decide how I feel about you, Five. I can think for myself, but if you decide to push me away, that’s on you.”
Again, he nodded.
“I like you, Five and that means the you that I thought I knew but then decided to fuck things up and make me cry my eyes out.” You smiled even though that made him look even more miserable. “And I like that frisky old man in you that you’ve been trying and failing to keep hidden. Both are good men even if they act like jerk offs sometimes.”
A tear slipped down Five’s reddened cheek.
“You say you don’t deserve it, but I think, from what I’ve heard, you deserve the world, Five Hargreeeves.”
Five looked down at his lap, holding his breath.
Very carefully, your hand moved over him, gathering the silky length of flesh descended between his legs, lovingly fondling him.
“You need to realize that it doesn’t matter what you’ve done, or what you’ve lost. You’re still worthy of love, and even if you weren’t and all that crazy shit your brother told me turned up to be some kind of dream I’d had in a moment of insanity while wallowing over you as I drank a delicious smoothie, I’d still want you. Even if you looked like the white-haired man grumping around up there in your head, I’d want you because under it all, you are sweet and kind and too smart for your own good and all kinds of scary sexy and I like all of that.”
As you relished in the feel of him getting hard, Five looked utterly defenseless even though you knew that was far from the truth. His tear-filled gaze was lazy and appreciative as he gazed at you, lying your heart out to him as you stroked his ego and his cock.
“Do you still want me?” you asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
You brushed aside the rest of Five’s bunched-up, funny old man robe, then came forward, resting your forearms on his warm thighs. Your hand tightened around his cock and kept moving as you looked up at him, his eyes looking droopy as his head rolled to one side.
“You don’t have to do-” Five started, but before he could finish what he was going to say, you were nuzzling him, your face at the crook of his leg and torso, tenderly kissing him there before you slowed your hand to a stop and licked the length of his dick, from the base to the tip, like it was the best thing you’d ever had in her face.
Five shivered.
Without hesitation, you started to suck, slowly running your tongue around and around the drip of translucent fluid that had already started leaking out of him.
“Mmmmm,” you hummed as you tasted him, the smooth pattern of your mouth moving over him, making Five grasp at his armrests as he tried and failed to bite back a broken moan.
Your contented humming continued as you let your tongue spread the wetness so you could push your mouth down, taking in more of him. Feeling the vibrations from your throat, Five’s head dropped back against his chair. He reached down with his left hand, shakily brushing your hair to the side so he could watch you sucking him off.
When your mouth met your fingers, you stopped working downward and began to move your head back up, never letting up with your tight lips or your tongue as it pressed along his length.
“Oh shit, that feels good!” Five whispered, his fingers moving through your hair as he very tentatively placed his hand on the back of your head. More soft curses came out of him on quickening breaths as you buried your nose in the small tuft of dark hair between his legs, taking him until your nose hit his pubic bone.
Gripping you tighter, holding you there and finding no resistance, Five deliriously questioned, “Are you sure this is okay?”
The second he let up, your head bobbed, your mouth making the most perfectly erotic squelching sounds as tears started to run down your red cheeks. Still, you didn’t stop.
The sight of him breaking you, but not, and you letting him do it, and the feeling of you loving him like this even at his lowest, sent what was left of Five’s restraint out the door.
Straining not to push you too much, Five’s hips started rocking upwards as you latched on to his upper leg with your other hand, supporting yourself as he pushed his cock deep, sending himself down your throat each time he rolled and fucked his body up into your mouth.
He was the one mostly dictating the speed and depth of each thrust, and the act was brutally degrading, but you didn't seem to care. Even the sound of you forcing your breaths through your nose was a turn on, and Five had to force myself not to say the string of dirty praises he had running through his head.
“I’m so... cl-close,” he stammered instead, in-between hardly contained grunts of the word fuck while forcing your head down and up again.
With his heels digging into the floor for leverage to lift him with each jerk of his hips, something in Five felt like it was shattering.
He took you all the way to the hilt again, holding you there until you started gagging and digging your nails into his leg. Then he did it again, and again.
Overwhelmed by what he was doing and how sick it was of him that he wanted to feel and see you struggle like that, in between thrusts, he let out sob like cries of thank you, and please, and fuck, and with those desperate words helplessly coming out of him, that deep seated feeling in his stomach that followed was impossible to ignore.
“I’m gonna come,” Five wept as he fisted your hair and frantically pumped himself in and out of your mouth as he began to ejaculate down your throat.
He kept incoherently moaning as his hips thrust in angry bursts of momentum.
When his body was done and his shudders had ceased, dizzy enough that the room felt like it was spinning, Five finally let go of you and you fell back on your heels, whipping at the line drool that had dripped from your mouth. You looked up at him, your nose a little runny and your eyes still wet, but somehow you still managed to smile for him and that broke Five even more.
Reaching out, Five ran his thumb across your cheek, collecting a remaining tear before his hand flopped to his side again. “I am so sorry for everything,” he whispered.
“I know,” you whispered back as you covered him back up, pulling his robe around him like he was helpless, which he was. When you walked to his bedroom and he didn’t follow because he was physically incapable at that moment, Five didn’t get to see your smile, but as you looked around in the dark at his boyishly blue quilt and saw the small, worn stuffed animal puppy dog lying on his bed, you knew once again that you weren’t wrong about him.
Snatching up a blanket that was neatly folded and placed by his pillow, you came back out, laying it over him.
Leaning in, you brushed Five’s hair from his forehead before you kissed his cooling skin, then you tiptoed away again. Turning back as you placed your hand on the doorknob, you saw him sleepily watching you, clearly wanting to say something, but like so often, not being able to find the right words.
“Goodnight, Five,” you said, then you left.
Part Five: Perfectly Wrong
The next day, the second you entered his office, Five rushed to the door, locking it, then he grabbed you by the waist, tugging you closer. “Where the hell have you been, I have been losing my mind up here,” he declared while lowering his head to yours, bringing your faces within a whisper's length.
“I have been working, that’s why I’m here, remember?” You laughed then said, “I wasn’t scheduled to meet with you until afternoon.” You looked at the clock then smiled. “Which is right now.”
Five didn’t look satisfied with that, so you kissed him, then pulled away, leaving him cutely puckering at air with his dark lashes fanning his cheeks so handsomely.
“For a man that once could control time, you seem very confused about how it works,” you teased.
“No shit. If that isn’t the understatement of the year,” he smarted back while giving you an adorable smirk. “I am impatient, impossible to deal with, and so horny for you that they should lock me up to protect you. All that made me think you’d changed your mind about me, that or I’d dreamed you coming to my apartment last night to tell me off, but then, instead, I ended up getting the first blow job of my long pathetic life and finished that mind blowing experience by getting tucked into my recliner like the big baby invalid I am.”
“I didn’t change my mind about you, and you didn’t dream that. I still like you, and our totally taboo, mentor fucking with his student, scandalizing age gapped, dirty talking, panty wetting, dry humping, cry fest of a relationship we have. Speaking of my training and it being your job to see to it that I succeed, I can’t quite understand how things work around here as they relate to my future and what they expect out of me as a fully sworn in agent.”
“Oh...? You read the 3000 page mission statement, but you still need my help figuring that out?” Five offered back, playing along.
You leaned in and whispered hotly in his ear. “I do. Will you help me?”
“I’d do anything for you,” Five breathed back, nudging your nose with his to make you smile as he peered at you through the strands of his hair that had just fallen in his face.
“Maybe you could lay it all out for me, right here on the top of your desk? Show me how you navigate all these complicated protocols and endless hours of typing up boring intelligence reports. With all the talking and writing up briefings, your fingers and mouth must get so tired. I know mine do. What then? What other tools do you have on you to get you through those super hard, long days?”
Five tipped you back on his desk, his hands moving down your back to support you until you were resting on your elbows. “As a fully sworn in agent, I steer myself around any obstacles in my way, ruthlessly and rudely ignoring anything and anyone that dares to get in my way.” He pushed the bulge forming in his pants between your legs. “When it comes to protocols, I throw them out the window and do what I want because I have never been good at following anyone’s rules but my own. And when I get tired of talking and my fingers get fatigued from all the typing, I say fuck it and really start breaking the rules and let my dick do the talking for me, proving why it was a very bad idea to make me your mentor and that I’m a huge pervert. Would you like me to elaborate on that?”
“Yes,” you said, burying your fingers in Five’s hair, using it as an anchor to draw his mouth to yours as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders while trapping him with your legs around his waist.
Sliding his hands under your bottom, Five pulled you closer to his need, brushing his face at your neck as he sucked on and kissed, his warm breaths tickling your skin.
“Tell me what you want. I mean it, I’d do anything for you,” Five insisted, all teasing aside, speaking into your skin as you gripped his firm backside and fooled around with his hair in that way he loved.
“Because you're a bad boy and I am a very bad girl, I want you to break all the rules with me right now,” you whispered.
Five let go of your hips where his hands had been rhythmically tugging you against him.
“Jeez-us, fuck you are trouble,” he breathlessly hissed as you reached down and started undoing his pants.
Five couldn’t contain his groan as you pulled his dick out and started to rub him. You flashed him your teeth as you smiled, enjoying yourself immensely as he careened into your grasp.
Giving you the hardest look he could muster considering what you were doing to him, Five pulled your hands away, guiding them both back behind you so he could press them down on his desk, under the pressure of his palms.
“Leave them here,” he sternly ordered, though there was no holding back his amused smile.
You nodded while sucking in your bottom lip as you coyly looked up at him from underneath your lashes.
Once Five was sure you were going to stay put, he let go of your hands, then he pressed himself closer to you again while bracing you from behind with one hand, bringing the other between your legs, yanking your panties aside.
As his fingers slid inside you, you dropped your head back, watching him with narrowed eyes.
“You’re really all in?” he asked, knowing you were, only wanting to hear you say it again.
“Yes, Five. I want all of you,” you begged, as you looked down at his cock, then up at him distraughtly.
Gripping himself, Five slipped his fingers out of you, replacing them with the softness of skin on skin and the warm, girthy head of his cock, gliding it back and forth as he wet himself at your entrance, then prodded and rubbed against your clit, back and forth.
“Fuck me, you're amazing,” Five cursed, unable to contain it when he finally felt what it was like to do this with his bare cock slicked against a body that was warm and forgiving.
He rocked himself against you, marveling over the simple pleasure of it, and he could have probably been held rapt forever by just that, but you’d said you wanted it all, and fuck..so did he.
“Are we okay like this?” he asked, meaning without protection.
“Yes, please…fuck yes!" you moaned, and he swore the look on your face could have killed a lesser man.
Getting the go ahead, Five ran his cock through your folds again, making sure he was wet enough to enter you. Then, carefully, drawing it out with a slow steady motion, he started pushing himself into you. Your warm walls clenched around his rounded tip, fighting it, but you didn't tell him to stop, so he moved inside deeper, whimpering because it felt so good to finally feel what this was like.
With Five’s thick cock opening you wider than it seemed possible, you threw your head back, panting his name and assurances to keep going, forcing your body to accept him. Feeling your tightness quivering around his length, unable to contain himself any longer, Five slowly started to move in and out, watching your face carefully for any signs of pain.
Once it was clear that he wasn’t hurting you, he smiled darkly, then very lowly warned, "Be quiet, or I’ll give you a reason to get really loud and then we both will have to start looking for new jobs.”
Immediately going faster, his hips thwacking against you harder and harder, Five leaned forward over you again, kissing the exposed area of your neck and upper shoulder.
When you let out a loud gasp, his hand flew over your mouth, then he increased the pace and angle of hips, rolling them in and out, fucking to a softer rhythm that felt so fucking good and made him look even more like he was the God of fuck he was.
“You are so fucking tight. This feels so…fuck,” he breathed before whipping his head back, trying to get his hair out of his eyes. As if he wasn’t doing you just fine already, hoisting your legs up a little more, Five pulled himself out a little, attentively working his tip in a way that pushed upwards, increasing the pressure building inside you in a way that made your head rolled back on your shoulders and your legs around his waist go limp.
“Oh, fuck, Five, yes, like that,” you cried out from under his hand.
“I fucking love you so much,” he moaned back, his eyes on yours as he bore down on you.
His dick pumping back and forth inside you even faster, Five’s brain took a second or two to catch up to what he’d just said. Breaking out in a sweat, his hand coming off your mouth, letting you breathe, he suddenly looked horrified, but that was only until you began to wildly thrust yourself back against him, using your ankles by digging them into his back.
Your fingernails tore into his back through his vest and dress shirt as he pushed his tongue against yours.
Slipping farther and farther into subspace every time his cock barred inside you, the more intense the lightning storm inside him got. His thoughts had grown hazy, and all Five knew was he was in heaven.
He was slamming into you, harder and harder, and all you could do was hold on, keeping yourself locked to him as you clung to the sides of his desk. You felt that sweet aching pressure down in your lower abdomen. Your back arched. You felt your heart pounding between your legs as Five began to come violently cum, his cock throbbing inside of you as he fell into stuttering movements, having been totally taken off guard by the intensity with how hard the height of his pleasure hit him.
The scent of his cum in the air, of sweat gathering on your bodies and the sound of your heavy breathing, the sounds of your lover’s kisses returning to your lips, urgent, insistent, desperate….
It was perfect.
Five didn’t stop working his hips, pulling his cock in and out of you. Bringing his hand between your legs, all it took was the slightest touch of his fingers getting into the game and a few more pumps of his hips, making his cum drizzle hotly out of you onto his desk and you were falling apart, your body trembling through your equally intense release.
Slowing to a stop, Five smiled into your neck, slowly kissing you as he ran his hand down your side. He didn’t want to pull away, but he also didn’t want to force you to stay like that, spread out with him heedlessly leaning between your legs. On top of that, he could hear Derek talking just outside his door.
After a moment more of proudly grinning over what had just happened, he pulled away.
“Are you sure about me?” he asked, uncertain, yet playing it like a joke, not so brazen and sure of himself when you weren’t withering against him.
“I am sure, and that was, holy fucking wow, Five,” you praised, as you reached out, tenderly brushing back a piece of his hair that had stuck to his forehead.
Five’s ego was quickly restored. You always knew exactly what he needed, when he needed it. It was as if you understood him better than he understood himself and you were ok with who he was even when he wasn’t.
“You are making this way too easy for me,” he pointed out.
“I ah… I should probably go,” you said as you grinned at him, momentarily distracted as he looked down at your legs dangling around his. He was so fucking hot.
“Shoot,” he laughed, rolling his eyes to his ceiling, then back to yours. “I meant to show you that my mouth is good for more than delivering sarcastically slights and even better clever commentary. Maybe there’s still time,” he teased, hands moving under your legs as he lowered himself, about to throw your legs over his shoulders and bury his face between the mess he’d made between your legs.
Derek knocked on the door.
“Fuck,” he laughed, jumping up, swinging your legs together, whipping you upright like you weighed nothing. His jaw pumped in agitation but that didn’t change his massive smile. “As much as I hate it, we really need to save that lesson for another time. Not that I care if I get fired, it’s just…You know,” he rambled, racing to zip up his pants and tuck his shirt back in.
“Another time then,” you chirped as you scooted off his desk, your heels landing softly on the floor.
As Five went to the door, unlocking it, before Derek tried to open it and come in, you came up behind him, hugging him from behind, your cheek falling against his as he tried to turn back. “I love you too, Five,” you whispered, then let him go just as the door started to open.
Stepping past Derek, you looked over your shoulder at Five, and said, “Thanks again for helping me, ahh…with figuring all that out.”
“Anytime. That’s what I am here for,” Five replied, his hand running over his mouth to hide his wicked grin.
As Derek looked at him in question, clearly aware that something was up, totally smitten, Five took the file he was handing him, but his eyes remained glued to you.
“It looks like those few days off did you some good. Are you feeling better?” Derek questioned, as he looked over at the papers pushed off of Five’s desk that were now laying on the floor. He smiled.
“Yes, much better,” Five breathed, coming to his senses, but only after you’d turned the corner, blowing him a secret kiss.
For the first time in his life, Five knew what it was like to feel the love he’d always longed for, and it was all because of you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~As always, thanks for reading. Let me know if you liked this. ❤️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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#number five smut#five hargreeves x you#dark number five#soft number five#smutty smut smut#number five fanfiction#number five#five hargreeves#number 5#number five x reader#number five imagine#number five x you#five x reader#five hargreeves x reader#number five hargreeves#number five fanfic#tua fanfiction#kaybreezy-on-a03#five x you#anon request
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Untouchable - Five Hargreeves
You can find the 2 request here: anonymous 1, anonymous 2.
Resume: The villain falls in love with the girl.
Trope: “ Who did this to you?” “Touch her and you are dead.” “i´ll find you in every lifetime”
Couple: Five Hargreeves /Fem!Reader.
Warnings: A LOT OF ANGST, swearing, mention of death, blood, fight between the Hargreeves and the Sparrows,a little enemies to lovers in the end, fluff, SMUT, degrading talk.
Word count: 15k.
A/N: Spoiler from season 3.
OMG THIS IS HUGE JAHHSHDAHSDJAHDHND it turned out bigger than i expected.
Because I have a lot of requests in my box, I compile orders that are similar and put together, but I took care to added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down.
We not tolerate any pedophilia here!! I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter, MHA and others fandoms.
English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.
Requests are OPEN. Love you ❤️
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Honor comes from the Latin honoris. Indicating a person who lives with honesty and probity, basing their way of life on the dictates of morality. A principle that leads someone to have a righteous, virtuous conduct, which allows to enjoy a good reputation in society.
Five Hargreeves thought of himself as a callous man with no honor and, somehow, able to drown out the voice of morality in his head. He was very knowledgeable about literature and history, and his physics and math skills could surpass Tesla's, but philosophy for him was a bunch of weak principles and dictated by people who didn't really know the world, who didn't pass 1% of what he passed by, who did not see what he saw. Not even Socrates, Plato or Machiavelli had known the worst of humanity like him, the truth about realities. A big part of his existence came down to surviving, fighting, winning, crushing everything that threatened his life.
His cynical outlook on life led him to pragmatism, and he knows that if he wants something done, he will have to do it himself.
His actions were more about getting things done than about displaying a display of rebellion or power. However, Five was not afraid of pain or even killing. He didn't mind being the author of the worst massacres if it meant going back to his family.
Five Hargreeves don't give a damn about being the villain of the story. He did what had to be done.
It was why, when The Handle ordered him to carry out the death sentence of a Duke and Duchess in 1730, Five did not question or hesitate.
Even though in the back of his mind, in a very small part of his brain, the question arose as to why people from such an old and outdated date, he did nothing about it, much less pulled the thread from the ball of yarn that would trigger a series of questions in a row. His job was not to ask why, to investigate step by step, to go through file by file. Five wasn't on The Commission to know the reason for each death, he was on the execution.
So he went, letting the suitcase unfold before his eyes an ancient era, from a faraway time, introducing him to carriages, flowing dresses, gigantic balls. And, as much as some people considered that era poetic, Five never liked lack of practicality.
So he killed the couple as quickly as possible, determined to escape from the need to spend more hours in that old-fashioned place.
It was like any other murder he had committed over the years on The Commission; he came, killed, and left. No looking back, no questions, no hesitation. Drowning in the deepest wave any second feelings that might have submerged, ensuring his emotions were chained very well at the bottom of the ocean.
It was easy, normal, routine. He was once again the villain, and could sleep very well the night with that.
But something began to change gradually in the atmosphere, in the air.
On some mornings, it was as if Five's hands were tingling for no apparent reason, eager to catch up something he had no idea what it was. On some afternoons, his heart vibrated in his chest, like a ground being punished by an earthquake, shaking his balanced state of mind. And, on some dawns, Five's mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert, thirsty for something that not even the coldest water could appease.
Wherever he was the air stayed suddenly thin, stuffy. And sometimes, in the middle of a mission, the wind seemed to blow in only one direction, hitting Hargreeves' back as if pushing him to go in a path. At those moments, his heart returned fluttered in his chest, as if he knew that one north was calling him and was that where he needed to go.
Everything inside Hargreeves began to be affected by strange reactions, spurred by banal, mundane events.
An in a few seconds, if Five stood completely still, silencing his thoughts and hollowing out any inner voices, he could hear something in the wind calling for him. Small seconds that swept away any balance that one day he ever had.
Five Hargreeves was going through a peripeteia, and he had no idea what was causing it.
What hell is going on?
It was wen, on an afternoon where the sun hid with shame among the dark gray clouds, The Handler gave him another murder.
In 1750.
His soul shuddered inside him in that second, echoing through his bones, keeping Five's egyptian green eyes fixed on the paper in his hands, unable to look away from the bold numbers that indicated the date of his next mission.
The icy breeze ruffled his dark hair, but he didn't move. There seemed to be something important and unspoken in the air, and this time, the voice calling his name on the wind grew softly louder. Now, it didn't seem to come from the back of his mind anymore, but from a place far away.
Five looked around, in an instinctive movement in the pathetic and vain attempt to find the source of that voice.
Nothing. As always.
“Five.” The Handler snapped her fingers in front of his face “May I have your precious attention?" The irony didn't go unnoticed, but his eyes flickered to hers. “As I was saying, the time and place of this mission is strictly important. Viscount Sebastian needs to be killed in his office at midnight, in the middle of his daughter's debut ball, not a minute less and nowhere else.”
Hargreeves gave a nod. Not because he had devoted all of his attention to her, just because he wanted her to stop talking. Much of his concentration was still on the way his body and the hemisphere around him behaved. Mission times and places were standard, no need to focus on this nonsense and listen to someone reiterate the rules as if Five were a child. He was 26 years old, a child was the last thing he was.
Something seemed to be happening, occult like a current that rattles under the sea. And the knowledge that he couldn't see the bottom of the ocean unnerved every cell in his body. Hargreeves couldn't stand things he couldn't perceive, understand how it works, take it apart and put it back together again.
This time, when Five returned to the eighteenth century, with 20 years having passed in that time after his visit and only 2 weeks for him, what hit him first was not the impracticality, the carriages, the big dresses. But the wind. Strong, cold, bringing with it the voice who called his name for weeks, now loud and clear.
The dark strands of his body prickled, and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat. Suddenly, anxiety snaked through his body like venom, stirring every fiber in his body, pumping something into his veins that made his blood heat like lava. An emotion he couldn't name what it was.
In the last mission, Five had a string of complaints about the way the black waistcoat squeezed the white linen shirt over his abdomen, and how heavy the straight-cut coat felt heavy under his shoulders. But in this time, he wasn't bothered with the clothes he had to wear so as not to attract attention and go unnoticed. Now, with his heart pounding in his chest, his throat dry and the constant feeling that he had to be somewhere urgently, his clothes were the last things on his mind.
It was an emotion that squeezed the pit of his stomach, made his hands itch and his body shot with an adrenaline that screamed that he needed to move. That he had a more important place to be. All the sensations he'd felt leisurely over the weeks now came back with absurd force, as if he were getting close to the source of it all.
What was happening?
The moon in that far away era shone sovereignly in the sky, blessing the houses, carriages and large mansions with cascades of distilled light in the purest color of silver.
Las time, the feeling that came over Five was to get out of there as quickly as possible. But now, looking around in search of the source of the voice calling him in the wind, the last thing on his mind was leaving.
His watch still read eight o'clock, but the sensation was like he was already late.
The most practical plan was to stay hidden somewhere near the mansion where the ball was being held. Avoiding crowds, witnesses, minimizing risk and being a shadow. As always did. The most rational thing to do was to stay away from that place at all costs, until the inevitable arrived and he was forced to enter through one of the windows.
He should have done it. But he didn't.
Just as a sailor follows a siren's song on the high seas, Five followed that voice on the wind. His brain screamed for him to seek a hiding place, but his soul rebelled with an absurd ferocity, ricocheting tremors through all his bones and ordering his legs to follow a path his conscious did not know. His whole mind was confused, but his soul carried a certainty that no other living being had ever had in they life.
With no other option, stunned by the sensations in his own body, he found himself walking towards the front door of the only place he was supposed to avoid until midnight.
If Five Hargreeves had to describe what was happening to his five senses, he would say that his vision was mildly blurred, as if were searching for focus. The smell was of climax and the ambient sounds were drowned out by his own heartbeat. It was like being there in flesh and blood, but not in soul.
He didn't focus on the details of the world around him, but he knew when he finished climbing the front steps. He couldn't focus on the conversation around him, but he knew that a few people were walking beside him.
His mind saw everything, but processed nothing.
It was a mistake not to be 100% aware of the environment, not to study each individual's body language, not to constantly calculate the odds of a move going wrong. But... it was as if something prevented him from emerging to the surface.
Five didn't respond when the butler greeted him at the entrance to the great hall, but looked around as the wind from outside hit his back and his name rang in his ears once more.
It was a female voice. Now he could tell.
Going deeper into the hall, the melody of the orchestra invaded his ears while thousands of people, talking, dancing and drinking, took his view. Everything resembled a blur on a painting, the sounds were still muffled as if Five were at the bottom of the sea, and the smell transitioned between flowers, feminine perfume and poetry.
Five Hargreeves was a pragmatic, cynical and austere man. Everything that made up his being was based on rationality, laws of physics and mathematical concepts, he wasn't oscillated by tender things and he certainly wasn't carried away by things of the heart or soul. He always followed what rationality dictated. Until now.
Until now.
Like a violin string that ruptured, Hargreeves was gripped by the feeling that something very important was about to happen. Something that would not only change his existence forever, but change him for eternity. This fact stared him at back, bold, warm and as inevitable as the setting sun. And very hair on his body stood on end at once while everything inside him pulsed with a brutality that could shake his bones.
Now, the sound of the orchestra was drowned out by the soundtrack of his life, which was coming closer to apex by the second. It was like being submerged in a slow-motion, in a moment that preceded an momentous event.
As magnets are pulled one by the other in an impassable way, his eyes, as if they already knew where to look, were drawn to a figure among the others who danced in the middle of the hall.
You.
Was like an explosion. Loud and brutal. He suddenly submerged from the bottom of the sea, bewildered, desperate, out of breath. The stupor released itself all at once, bringing his mind back to the reality. Instantaneously, nothing was blurred anymore, sounds weren't muffled, and he abruptly returned to his conscious state. But his soul was not so lucky. Like being whipped by live eels, his heart pounded in his chest with such fury that he leaned over forward millimeters, his throat was drier than the Egyptian desert and now his hands itched in a hellish, bestial, uncontrollable way.
Five Hargreeves has released himself from a wave of numbness only to be hit by a tsunami of sensation.
His eyes were seeing everything clearly now, but he couldn't take his attention away from the female figure dancing in the middle of the room, her bouffant gown swirling gracefully across the floor as if deities were blowing the fabrics.
There were a lot of people around him, in front of him, behind him, but Five Hargreeves only had eyes for you.
In an insane, magical and inexplicable logic, Five had the purest certainty that it was your voice that called him in the wind, that was by the desire to touch your skin that his hands itched. Five would never be able to explain it to other people, but at that moment, there was nothing more concrete on Earth, in physics and science, than the certainty that was because of you that his soul felt, so many times, that he should be somewhere else.
Like the indubitability that you need oxygen to breathe, touching your skin has become just as indispensable. It was a matter of needing, something that now not only itched his hands, but corroded the bones in his fingers.
There was no reason for all those absurd feelings, Five had never even seen you before. But rationality had no space in that moment.
There, in that rift between the past, future and parallel realities, there was no discernment, lucidity, judgment. It was a hideaway free of any cohesiveness, with the smell of romance, an atmosphere full of emotion, passion and poetry. A distant era that allowed, for the first time in many years, that the soul of Five Hargreeves to take control of his body.
He moved, one step after another, his focus petrified on you. With each centimeter closer to your body, the more he felt able to breathe again, relieving the brutal anxiety that had been beating him for weeks, giving a truce to the martyrdom that lacerate him day after day without even him even knowing why.
You had finished your dance, clapping along with the other guests for the orchestra that started the new melody, this time more lyrical.
Your hair, the tone of which seemed to be the personification of poetry, of art, was tied in a bun that allowed a few strands to fall under your neck, the skin of your bust was speckled with a few little droplets of sweat, the perfect amount to glisten under the yellowish light of the candles in the chandelier, making a divine, almost celestial aurora radiate from you. The dark blue gown referred back to the night sky in its greatest splendor, highlight your full breasts at the straight neckline and opening at the hips in a skirt that preached the illusion of you being floating across the hall. Your lips were a red that Five had never seen in his life. A red that seemed to exist only to serve you, enhancing the color of your eyes.
You were like a mirage. An oasis in the farthest desert. One of those paintings that people come from all over the world to see in person, capable of sweeping, taking they breath away, making they cry for having to live with the burden of never having the possibility of knowing you in life.
The romantic period was going on in that century, society was tired of trends in intellectual thinking, rationalization, industrialization and the veneration of science. People longed for an escape into emotionally charged images and fantastical fiction in the visual arts and literature. And Five Hargreeves was certain that you were one of the greatest inspirations of this movement. It was so clear that you were the influence of John Waterhouse's paintings, sweeping the hearts of artists and illuminating poets. Lord Byron was thinking of you when he created the short lyric poem “She Walks in Beauty”, completely fascinated by you.
That thought shuddered Five's soul even more. And an acidic emotion rose in his throat and burned his eyes. In his chest was injected the feeling that he was facing one of the greatest beauties in history, the person the poems and paintings were based on, the inspiration for so many names of literature and art that would become renowned.
There, in front of him, was more than a person. It was a piece of history, art, literature, a beauty that was immortalized and that would be admired even after centuries. Five had already gone to different times in the past, but nothing touched his soul as much as now. As much as you.
Five Hargreeves went in your direction like a sailor following a siren's song across the seven seas.
You were relatively distracted when he got to you. Lungs catching breath from the last dance, body preparing for the next, your mind was on that ballroom but your heart was far away. It was universally true that girls your age should revel in balls like this one. Full of potential husbands, dancing and music, governed by a perfect night for falling in love. You came to like it in the past, but now, after so many similar events, everything didn't have the same magic anymore.
You've heard enough stories - filled with adrenaline, pirate ships and dangerous waters - to crave adventure in your life. It was also noticed that you spent too much time with your books, and that the consequence of spending so many hours in the fictional world brought you very high standards for men and love. The whispers through the darkened streets were that you would end up a spinster. Since you took no interest in any gentleman who courted your hand.
In your defense, it wasn't your fault. The men in your reality were terribly...tasteless.
That was until he showed up.
You don't know where he emerged, or what lineage he was from, much less his name. But he came towards you like that was more important than breathing. In a virile, perfect posture. As if he knew all the secrets of the world and was able to show you them.
One of the first things you noticed were the eyes. The room was partially dark, lit only by the flickering candles in the candelabra, but the darkness only made his eyes clearer. Intense greens. Of such a pure emerald tone that it shone like a mystical cat, calling you to sink in his greenish sea. The stranger had hair as black as midnight, which fell softly and romantically over a face with firm features; jaw as sharp as a razor and a nose full of masculine personality. Although was well dressed, all his clothes, with the exception of the white linen shirt, were as dark as the strands of his hair, something unusual among the sophisticated gentlemen who were invited.
Looking at that gorgeous face, you were left speechless. The deities had been generous to this man, gifting him with bold, aristocratic features and iris as green as Egypt's most precious jewels. The mystery and secrets contained within in those eyes were a fascinating contrast.
“Can I have this dance?” Just a sentence.
He didn't introduce himself, he didn't say who he was. He just dropped that sentence as if it was the only thing he really cared to say.
The gravity of his words made your heart flutter. What a beautiful voice that man had. With a provocative huskiness, a touch of superb, as if he were an oracle at his peak in ancient Greece. The sound seemed to seep into your body and run through you like warm honey.
The truth was, you had reserved the dance for another gentleman, but in that second, you couldn't care less.
“Of course, milord.” That's what you said, accepting the hand he extended to you.
Never taking his eyes off yours, an unfamiliar sensation washed over your mortal body and engulfed everyone around you. You wondered if it was just the stuff of your imagination or if he too felt the electricity whip through his body as he positioned you closer to dance.
Single women weren't allowed to touch men's hands if you weren't wearing gloves, and that rule had never bothered you. Until now.
Until be affected by an insane, visceral desire to feel that man's skin. Of experiencing the heat radiating from his hand against yours, of feeling those white fingers, slender and pale, holding your denude skin. You've never been touched by a man without a layer of clothing intervening. No brushing of elbows, no bumped of fingers, no errant caresses. And you wondered what it was about that man that made you aware of this deprivation. That stranger radiated secrets in an inexplicable but extremely palpable way in the air and you wanted to feel the touch of mystery on your skin more than you wanted to breathe. A will as strong as fear, as intense as hunger.
Your soul screamed in frustration because of the dress when his hand cupped your cover waist. In a touch so firm it only existed in the romance novels you read. Your heart raced, your breath disappeared, and you didn't notice when you rested your hand on his shoulder and your feet began to follow the rhythm of the waltz.
It was pathetic the intensity of your emotions for a man you had just met and didn't even know his name. But, it was like you'd found something didn't even know you'd lost.
Well… if it was the lack of knowledge of his name that was making things a little difficult…
“Aren't you going to tell me your name? Mine is Y/n”
Your voice, sweet as molasses, velvety as suede, made the hairs on the back of Five's neck stand on end. He recognized the timbre now, he had already heard you calling for him in the wind, but nothing surpassed hearing you from inches away.
This was one of those moments where, if you asked Five why he was doing this, he couldn't answer. He couldn't find any logical answers to his actions, reactions, thoughts. But, once again, this rift in space and time was an environment free of rationality. He didn't need this here. He felt he didn't need to. Not when had you in his arms.
A name…
Five Hargreeves was the name of a villain. Someone who would carry on his shoulders to the grave the weight of the thousands of souls he killed. Someone whose hands were marked, eternally, with thick, hot blood. A proof that his destiny was traced directly to hell. His name was the personification of a freak created to be a hero, an orphan in the apocalypse, a man who belonged nowhere in the timeline, someone without family for many decades.
He looked at the hands that held you. The hands of a serial killer. And then he looked at you, full of beauty, life, happiness and innocence. It was like committing a crime against nature to hold something so pure in such infamous, disgraced, death-scarred hands. And something inside he twisted with something like pain…disgust, for the fist time.
His soul didn't want to hold you in the hands of Five Hargreeves.
Five Hargreeves was the villain. And he didn't want to be that man right there.
His mouth, which looked so beautiful yet so dangerous, softly approached the foot of your ear, while the body of you two continued to follow the steps of the waltz. "We don't need names here."
A current of electricity slammed into your body like a whiplash from a live eel, raising goose bumps on parts of your skin you didn't even know you had. My goodness, it was a sin for a single man to have that much charm.
Sensible young women would have turned away at once. Practical girls who appreciated rationality, sincerity and transparency, who had no estimate for games, mystery and sensuality, would have rolled their eyes. But you were not sensible, practical or appreciative of the good customs of the epoch.
You were romantic, hungry for a good charade, adventure. And that man seemed to be built by those two things.
The world was just a shapeless blur, other people were no more than wandering silhouettes, and the atmosphere was enraptured by the flickering orange light of the candles in the candelabra. The smell was of poetry, romance and freedom, which intoxicated the brain and alcoholize any common sense. Was like a magical place in the middle of space and time, a rift that allowed just being. Time passed slowly, as if dancing together with you two.
‘One second can change many things...’
Just as Five could hear his father's voice saying 'I told you so' during his years in the apocalypse, he could hear his words now.
‘you can crumble empires, win battles...’
Five swirled you around before pulling you into his arms once more, his heart pounding with each passing moment. Neither of you realized it, but every second you spent together, every step, more messed up the timeline.
You smiled full of romance and magic as he leaned you back, his hand firm on your spine, bringing you to the surface and returning to dance around the hall with the waltz that dandle yours bodies.
‘you can fall in love.’
With every strong step the two of you took on the floor, in an apocalypse dance, realities were immediately misaligned. With each spin, lines of events were exploded into other universes. With each look shared, with each smile, with each heartbeat full of romance, people were erased, born, disappeared.
An apocalypse was brewing somewhere because of his hands on your body. A mystical waltz that brought the ascension of chaos in other timelines.
Neither of you two knew about it. But if Five knew, he wouldn't keep his hands off you anyway. Five Hargreeves was the villain in many realities. And he would accept the burden of being in a few more if it meant having you in his arms.
In an inexplicable and irrational way, what was happening now had more importance than everything he had ever lived and would live through in his entire life.
"You dance very well." You praised him, and his hands on you tighten a little more.
"No more than you". Then he gave that smile.
The half smile that lifted only one corner of his mouth. Malicious, sagacious, sphinx. Who promised to know all the mysteries of the world and show you all the sins of life. What man was that? So full of charm, sensuality, beauty. He seemed out of this world and you found yourself wishing that time would freeze in that moment, that you could hold onto your chest and live in that dance for the rest of your life.
There was something different in the air. A soul-deep feeling that whispered that your life would never be the same again.
Not after this man.
“It is not difficult to find women who dance.” You joked. "You've certainly danced with others to know."
Yes, with his mother and Allison.
But even if he had been dancing with all the women in the world, they would have disappeared in that moment. No memories memory experiences with other women could stand out at that moment.
"If I danced, they all disappeared the moment I waltzed with you." He realized he might have said the right thing, because he could see the breath go out of your lungs and cheekbones flush deliciously.
God in heaven… this girl was breathtakingly beautiful.
Five led you around the hall masterfully, committing your features to his mind like the tattoo on his wrist. Permanently, eternally. Suddenly, he was struck down by the insane desire to know more about you. To hear more of your voice, to taste the way the words flowed from your lips like the purest honey.
You were like a drug, an obsession. An addiction that had stuck with him since the first time he came into that century, since he breathed the same air as you, since he coexisted under the same night sky as you. There was insane logic in the fact that his soul felt your presence without even seeing you on that first mission. He would never be able to explain it, but somehow it made sense inside in him.
Five Hargreeves didn't think about what would happen when he had to leave. He didn't think about the withdrawal his body would suffer when he was away from you. Much less noticed the way there seemed to be something important in the air. If he had been in full intellectual faculties and grounded in rationality, he would have managed to understand that that something was the temporal lines collapsing, an apocalypse forming elsewhere, pure and perfect chaos destroying parallel realities.
But he was not being led by rationality. And even if he was, he wouldn't have minded a few worlds burning if it meant having you next to his body. He didn't care. But The Commission was a different case.
But Five Hargreeves wasn't thinking about any of that.
He conducted a conversation with you the way he conducted that waltz. He discovered that you liked the high seas even though you were never allowed to be on a ship. You loved nature and enjoyed good books. He heard your eagerness to know the world and learn about different cultures, that you wanted to unravel the mysteries of Egypt, see the architecture of Greece, visit Spain and wanted to go swim in the beaches of Brazil. You were an adventurer, and Five's heart skipped a beat for it.
But in a corner of his soul, deep down, he felt an ache reverberate through his bones. The urge to tell you about the world came with overwhelming force, and something inside him died when he realized he could never tell you the truth about the subjects you cared about.
He could never tell all that the world already knew about Egypt, about its tombs and its pharaohs. He could never be able to show the beauty of Brazil's beaches that become famous tourist spots, and he reserved a note in his brain that you would have loved to visit Genipabu in Brazil, a beach with huge sand dunes that seemed to be the junction of a huge desert whit a beach. He could not tell you what science, oceanography and marine biologists already knew about the oceans. He could never say about the cruises that roamed the seas in all the luxury and comfort, much less about the planes.
Five Hargreeves would never be able to show you the world. And his soul decided to torture itself even more thinking about what it would be like if you were from his time. The things you would do, the freedom you could enjoy.
He could show you anything you wanted, tell you the secrets of the universe…His secrets.
When the waltz was over, on a note as dramatic as the situation, you couldn't say goodbye to him. Your soul, enchanted and completely enraptured by the man in front of you, vehemently refused to remove your hand over his. It seemed that every molecule in your body, every corner of your spirit, every fiber of your being, had defined that it was with that man that they wanted to stay. Forever.
What was foolish.
The truth was that the sensation of poetry, romance and magic that surrounded you two throughout the dance, had evaporated from the air like mist in the sun. Now the sure that you two weren't meant to be together hung in the air like a black cloud, thundering and flashing. This feeling oppressed you with an overwhelming force, so tangible it was possible to cut it with a razor.
No words needed to be said, but it was stamped into the environment, filling every millimeter and gap, putting that magical dance into a category that would never go beyond that: a dance.
A feeling of melancholy jabbed your throat like a scorpion's sting, injecting an emotion of sadness and helplessness into your blood like distilled poison. You didn't want that to be the end. You didn't want to say goodbye. Even with everything in the air indicating that whatever existed between the two of you, ended here, now.
Five's eyes seemed to exude the same as you. Feeling the end heavy and resounding in the air, reverberating like thunder, as every corner of his soul roared the opposite. The green sea of his irises looked like it was in the middle of a storm. Full of pain, anger. With colossal waves and revolts, which promised to destroy everything they saw ahead. Just like the oceans did in the apocalyptic events in the era of Younger Dryas.
Somehow, without having to utter a single sentence, you both knew you were feeling the same thing. Wishing, with all their might, that this wasn't the end, that they were able to hold time against their chest in a tight, desperate embrace, an attempt to freeze the pointers.
At that moment, Five clamored, to any god who would listen, that you not be taken from his arms.
However, like the evil joke that was his life, his thoughts were cut short by the chiming of the clock. 11 chimes. That echoed in his soul like the trumpets of hell, laughing at him, mocking him, making fun of a murderer thinking he would be graced with something like you.
Five Hargreeves was a villain. And he was destined to have the things villains deserve. And none of this things included someone like you.
In that sadistic moment, Five finally understood a sentence from one of the books Grace read to them at night; ‘If I were to kiss you then go to hell, I would. So then I can brag with the devils I saw heaven without ever entering it.’
Yes. Now he understood. Five Hargreeves leaned in, bringing the back of your hand to his lips, laying a kiss that, however much it was impeded by the muslin layer of your glove, he prayed that this kiss could transmit all the feelings he could never say. This are the only kiss he could give you. That sentence echoed in his head like a fact, as sure as the sky is blue, as true as the salt in the oceans.
And when he went to the core of hell, paying for all his sins, he would brag to the other demons that he had been to heaven without ever having entered it.
You wish you'd said something, asked where he was from, stopped him from going. But none of that happened. This was one of those moments that we regret forever, that are branded in a red-hot iron in the soul, in the mind, in the body. Everything inside you was screaming to go after him when Five turned arund and walked into the sea of guests. But he disappeared in the waves before you could even move your feet.
No one had to tell you, but you knew you'd never see him again. And your heart would never beat for another.
-----------
Five Hargreeves has had to do a lot of horrible things over the years. Actions he wasn't proud of but he knew needed to be done, nights awash in blood and the smell of death.
But nothing has wobble him as much as you have.
His soul, body and mind, trained since he was a child not to develop any weakness that would prevent him from being a perfect hero, then perfected and aggravated by the Commission to be the unbeatable assassin, were rarely stirred by feelings.
He was cynical, hard-nosed, crotchety and arrogant. He never got carried away by emotions and, as much as his desire to save his family is pure, he will cross any ethical lines for the greater good. And all of that made him the Commission's best weapon.
Until now.
Until his emotions messed up not just one, but thousands of timelines. Created catastrophes, formed apocalypses, killed people. Hargreeves meeting you was something that could never have happened. Repudiated not just by nature but by the gods. Having you in his arms was like a crime against the timeline, against the balance of the world.
And heavens and hells would make him pay. With work, blood, or his heart. Promising to take not only the soul, but any hope of laying eyes on you once again. As Icarus had his downfall for the sun, so Hargreeves had for you. In a triumphal ruin.
“Do you have any idea what you caused ?!” It was the first thing The Handler said as soon as Five returned from his mission, seconds after he had killed his target.
Her voice was loud, suffused with anger and rage and… despair. Five frowned, soul still aching from having to leave you, your warmth still in his arms. He didn't have the head to deal with her right now. Not when he had so much to process.
“A death.”
“Don't play smart on me!” Her roar was loud enough for Hargreeves to realize that something really serious was going on. The Handler was many things, but she never got worked up without good reason.
The clatter of her heels echoed through the room as she walked towards him, her eyes full of fierce emotion.
“You had only one job to do! One! Kill the man and get out of there. Like always!" Her voice was as rough as desert sand. “But not only did you mess up entire timelines, but created apocalypses on thousands of worlds that were to happen only thousands of years later!"
Five's mind was racing like a Catarina wheel, spinning at full throttle as it tried to put the pieces together. He blinked once, twice, his heart starting to race with the feeling that something devastating was about to be revealed.
He looked at The Handler, who understood his look. "That's right! Your little feat of dancing with that girl shattered thousands of timelines! People were killed, disappeared, events took a completely different course because of your little impertinence!"
She pulled his arm towards the thousands of screens that monitored infinite realities. And what he saw was chaos. Pure and perfect. Some worlds succumbed to fire, others to water, others to war. But they had devastation as a resemblance.
Five can hear the voices of other Commission workers in the background, in another corridor, other rooms. Some sounded desperate, others irritated, and others helpless, but all seemed concerned. He couldn't even say that he didn't know that little things had chain reactions. Because he knew. There was nothing to justify his actions, for he didn't even have a good reason for himself.
But the truth was, even staring the apocalypse in the face across nine different monitors, he felt no…remorse. There wasn't a part of him that would have done differently, that wouldn't have touched you, that wouldn't have known you. Deep in his soul Hargreeves knew he didn't care how many worlds he had destroyed just by touching you. He was going to hell anyway, it was better to have a memory of you to remember for eternity.
"...we'll have to kill her." It was just that sentence that Five's messed up mind paid attention to.
Then everything stopped.
The weather, the conversations. The world seemed to have held their breath, suspended, staring at Five. Everything inside him fell silent into scary silence, and he turned slowly toward The Handler, all his senses heightened, heart still, mind clear.
She seemed to notice his state. "What did you expect?! You know how things work. Causers of apocalypse get killed, that's our job! And because of that dance of yours, this girl has caused nine different apocalypses.”
There was a kind of insane, evil logic to the situation. The last riddle of gods and life to see Five Hargreeves on his knees. Broken, empty. To punish his sins, taking from him what he took from so many people. They engineered his downfall perfectly, writing with a red-hot iron on his soul the sentence that he could never be happy. His curse, the price to pay. Cosmic fit.
What the fucking hell.
“I'll send some agent to kill her immediately and...”
But Five Hargreeves has never been one to accept sentences imposed on him with his head down. Limitations, rules. He made his own destiny, no matter what he told him, and lived with the consequences. No god, destiny or universe dictated his life.
Everything inside him roared like a beast. Exploding, bursting, sending any control flying away. In an action without any hesitation, delicacy or ambiguities, his hand closed on The Handler's arm. In a firm, strong, tense grip that started hurt her very soon.
She looked at him in a mixture of shock and annoyance. There were very few people in the world willing to face a woman on her level, some too fearful, others who value life too much. But Five Hargreeves was none of those things. He'd never known any predator he should fear, everyone knew he was capable of anything and everything. Maybe there was no line he was able from crossing, or plan he wasn't capable of executing.
Five Hargreeves was the predator she should fear.
And The Handler realized that. For in that pair of eyes she saw danger, rage, pure and perfect hate. His sea of green gave way to red, glittering waves, shining with all the blood he had already spilled. And with a warning that he wouldn't mind spilling more.
“Stay. away. from. her. ” he guided each word with a tighter grip on her delicate arm, sure to leave marks that won't go away anytime soon.
Bewildered, she looked at him like a man possessed, filled with a rage that could fuel hell all by itself. The Handler had never seen him in that state, he was always angry, annoyed, acidic, but that… that was hatred, a bloodthirsty hate.
Five Hargreeves promised to go to hell and drag anyone with him without saying a word.
For the first time in her life, The Handler was afraid.
“Five...you know her need to die...”
"Listen to me" He vociferate, shaking her by the arm. “I don't give a fuck what you have to say. I swear, for all that exists in this world, that if you lay one finger on her, there will be nowhere on earth you can fuck hide from me.”
Five Hargreeves was a tall, masculine man, wrapped in a macabre and sinister aura when he wanted to. He pulled The Handler closer, his face filled with colossal rage being etched like a tattoo into her soul.
“I don't give a fuck about how many worlds are ending, I don't give a fuck if fucking people are dying! You won't touch her until the day I'm dead! And you can bet that, even seven feet under the ground, I'll find a way to take you with me to hell if you do fucking something to her."
You were untouchable.
All of his work on The Commission was about killing a number of people to save even more. But he would never, ever, sacrifice you for the greater good. Not even if it meant millions of dead people.
It didn't matter as long as you weren't one of the dead.
Without waiting for further discussion, he led The Handler towards the exit door, leading her out of the room and locking the door when he returned. Five wasn't stupid or naive to think that she would follow his orders. The handler might be afraid of him, but she knew how to get what she wanted, no matter how long it took. And now that he'd bruised her ego, Five knew she'd make it her primary mission to kill you.
Something he would never let happen.
If someone asked where so much anger, so much sense of protection came from, Five Hargreeves couldn't say. Because he didn't even know. In the same way that he still didn't understand everything that had happened, everything that he had been feeling, he still hadn't reasoned where such primitive, territorialist impulses came from. He had no idea where it all came from, but he was sure he could never let anything bad happen to you.
In a twisted and somewhat obscure way, you had gained a villain as a protector. A fallen angel who didn't promise to do good to people, but only to you. Who swore allegiance not to humanity, but solemnly, exclusively, to you.
It was a sensation that filled his entire body like boiling lava. And Five put his hand in the fire for the certainty that he would never be able to get rid of his feelings for you again.
His soul said that, as long as he was alive, he would be yours.
Making his mind work faster than it ever had before, Five Hargreeves concluded that every record of you had to go. There could no longer be documents proving that you were part of humanity. That once you had a name, a house, a reality. Five would have to erase you from any and all records. Forever. The only way to keep you out of the hands of the people who had access to every form of terrestrial existence, was to erase you from the world. Only then, hidden from the Commission, could you live happily. Fully.
But throwing all your documents away was signing the sentence that he was took the risk of never getting to see you again. Without them, finding someone was nearly impossible, much less accessing their reality. Five could start a calculation to find you one day, but that could take years, ages, and even if he memorized your documents number by number, did the calculations and managed to get to you without any side effects, The Commission could follow him and find you.
And finding a civilian's documents was much easier than finding a special agent like him and throwing them away too.
Once again, his life was a cruel joke of the gods, which served as entertainment for any higher power. Five strongly believed that, if there was anything above or below him, they designed his life for they own amusement.
Five Hargreeves spent hours in the file room, locked in that cubicle, not letting anyone in, not getting out. Once he disappeared with your documents, he would be declared a traitor and deserter, where his punishment would not only be more years of work, but death.
The world was spinning. Head ached. A sound gnawed at his mind, a scratch without melody, like a rustle of paper. Someone had taken a scream, a memory and a fear, crumpled it into a jagged ball, and used it to stuff Five's skull. He need to think of a plan that covered all the rough edges, but his eyes were bombarded with futures he didn't want to think about. Every time he blinked he felt the tragedy lurking in a dark and dismal corner, ready to catch him in their sharp mouths and take him somewhere he feared to go.
A place where the worst had happened to you.
Suddenly, the world was filled with secrets, fears and terror. Just as his soul took control of him in that night, it was the same in this moment. Five Hargreeves wasn't someone to get carried away by anything, but the feeling that something very bad was about to happen to you haunted him to the bone. That would be the perfect ending to his sinful life story; having the one person who touched his feelings so powerfully killed in the same way he killed so many other people.
Life was taking its toll on all the things he had done. For a second, he was afraid of that reckoning. Because the worst is not the bullet hitting yourself, but someone you like.
The feeling outside of being torn apart. All the patches and pieces of what it was to be Five Hargreeves - which he had been painstakingly piecing together throughout his life - were coming loose again, all at once. The clock was ticking, the hours were ticking, and he knew that just as he was coming up with a plan, so was The Handler.
It was a macabre race against time, in which if he lost, he had the feeling he would never fully recover. Not without a part of his soul dying along with you.
When he found your documents, the photo they had of you was a portrait made in that last century, a small painting of your face, eternalizing your smile. Suddenly, the memory of how you'd smiled at him like that gripped him like a demon. And when the memories of you intensified, they brought no comfort, just only fear and dread. Five Hargreeves could not live with himself if those memories were tainted by the knowledge that he was the cause of his tragedy. He would never be able to remember those tender moments again if memories of you were vandalized by images of how you were killed.
It was too late to remedy the consequences of what he had unleashed. The macabre possibilities of what The Handler could do to you were there, tattooed on his brain, as if they would snap open and bolt to reality at any moment. So, as panic rose, Five Hargreeves' mind slammed shut like a heavy book. He wouldn't let any of that happen. Never.
After scheming and checking all the plans in his mind, Five decided that he had already orchestrated the almost perfect scheme. He would destroy all of your documents and, when he had done that, he could no longer remain on the Commission. Thus, he would steal the mission from one of the agents about killing John F. Kennedy, the time that most closely matched his calculations to return to the family in 2019. Then Five Hargreeves would evade The Commission and deal with them without being an employee anymore. And even if they went after him, they would never find you.
Not even Five.
And so it was done.
-----------
Five Hargreeves went through the reunion with his family, faced the commission agents coming after him to kill him, dealt with The Handler and put up with his siblings drama.
In a matter of weeks, he had already gotten himself into so much trouble and confusion that sometimes he didn't even have time to breathe. Processing events and digesting them had become a luxury he no longer had, and saving the world from one apocalypse and falling into another had seemed to become a family pastime.
But there were nights. Cold, when the moon reached its apex in the sky and the rain poured down on the ground, when he was finally able to be alone and clear his mind. In those rare moments, the only thing on his mind was you.
Always you.
His point of peace, his refuge from his constant stress and pressure was in the images of you. In the way your body fit perfectly in his hands, in the way your gaze, enchanted and completely shining, did not leave his. Five Hargreeves felt that, like him at that moment, there was no other place you would rather be.
Twenty years could go by, but he would still feel what it was like to have your warmth in his arms, in the smell that your perfume exhaled and in the way the candles in the candelabra glowed on your skin. You were like a goddess, dancing at that ball as if the world would never be graced with such beauty again.
When Five Hargreeves closed his eyes, he could see you perfectly. Swirling around as if the ground were your clouds and everyone there were mere mortals, watching what the angels in heaven looked like.
It was like a dark paradise. He managed to slake some of that suffocating tightness in his chest whenever he returned to those memories, but it resulted in more flagellations in his poor, tortured soul. The notion that he would never have anything but memories, dreams, and mowed wishes, would skin him alive until his last days. Five would forever be haunted by the notion that, even when he died, you wouldn't be waiting on the other side.
You would be in heaven. And he belonged in hell.
But, it was worth it.
All the pain, all the desperation his soul struggled with, all the shortness of breath that coiled in his lungs, all the feeling of being stabbed with a dagger knowing his would never lay hands on you again, it was all worth it when he reviewed your face in his memories.
Five Hargreeves didn't clamored for relief from his pain, balm for the cuts deep in his soul, a minute's mercy. No, he accepted all of his fate with his head held high. He clamored for you to be okay. Safe, happy. Free from any worries or tribulations. He wished you had forgotten about him, erased that night from your blood, because it would be impossible to live if he knew you were suffering just like him.
Five Hargreeves had never given you a single kiss, tucked your hair in his fingers and tasted your tongue, but he didn't need it. His soul didn't need that to fall madly in love with you.
Yes, pure and perfect passion. It was the only logical explanation for how he felt about you.
Even though he never tasted your skin in his mouth, or touched you without the interference of a piece of clothing, Five Hargreeves was in love with you.
And it would be for the rest of his life.
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All the Hargreeves siblings thought all was well when the Commission was defeated and they got a briefcase to take them back at home. The nightmare of the second apocalypse had already passed and now the feeling that invaded their bodies was one of relief. For a second, Klaus thought that everything would now be back on track; with the family together, stronger ties and improved relationships.
Everyone thought so, actually.
The shimmering blue flash engulfed all the brothers, passing through the barriers of space and time, leaving the Hargreeves in the mansion where they grew up and spent most of their lives. Everyone looked happy, relaxed. And Five also shared the same relief.
Until that fateful moment.
Until a draft of wind enter through the window behind him and hitting his back, bringing a feeling that immediately made every hair on his body stand on end. In a matter of seconds, all sense of relief, calm, and peace were shattered, exploding one by one with the same aggressiveness of a nuclear bomb. The world seemed to stumble and stoped, the colors of the hemisphere fluidized into a vintage orange, flickering, almost as if the lighting came from candles.
As much as his siblings were laughing and making noises, everything for Five was quiet, in a tacit silence. The sound of cars on the streets did not exist anymore, the conversations disappeared, and, little by little, the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. Increasing in tempo gradually, like a soundtrack.
Then, in the apex of silence, when Five could already hear the blood rushing through his veins, he listened.
Five.
Your voice in the wind, almost like a whisper. Calling for him. Just like you did a long time ago.
His soul gave a scream that shook him to the very bones, and he didn't notice when his eyes widened and his breath hitched. Suddenly, his whole body came back to life, being pulled sharply from the bottom of the ocean, submerging, desperately, breathless, astonished. Abruptly, the heat returned to his hands, to his cheeks, to his heart. Five could feel warmth coursing through his body as if they had rekindled the flame of his soul.
Was like resurrect.
He looked back in one jerk, spinning in place, heart pounding in his ribcage, his frantic, frantic eyes darting around every corner.
Nothing.
“Hey, are you okay?” Klaus looked back, focusing on his brother, but Five didn't respond.
He walked past Klaus as if he couldn't hear him, his eyes and hands trembling visibly, his step tight. Five chased the wind current as if he were chased his life, oblivious to anything or anyone.
His siblings, finding the situation strange, followed him without hesitation, accompanying the owner with green eyes entering more in the house. They had no idea what to expect, or what to think, but they stopped behind Five as he froze in the middle of the living room, eyes petrified, wide, fixed on a very specific spot at the top of the stairs.
But nobody noticed what he saw.
While all the Hargreeves were taken aback by Reginald's appearance in the outer corner of the room, stunned and petrified, growing more and more stunned as their father went on to explain the situation, Five couldn't take his eyes off the top of the stairs. Nothing in the world would have made him look elsewhere.
You.
You.
Fucking hell...you.
There, standing next to people he didn't care to find out who they were, looking down, observing at the people who had just entered.
Suddenly, everything inside him was whipped by currents of electricity, as if he'd been struck by lightning. An argument seemed to be brewing in the background, but Five Hargreeves didn't fucking care. May the world explode, may everything end up in dust, fire or water. He didn't want to know.
You were there. With the sunlight coming through the large windows behind your back, and illuminating your silhouette as if you were a deity, a goddess, a muse. You shone. Like the gates of heaven. At that moment, the soul of Five Hargreeves fell to his knees in front of you. For you.
An extremely strong emotion invaded him without asking permission, destroying everything he once was. Five felt like crying.
As a war in the background unfolded, the people who were beside you started to descend the stairs one by one. But he couldn't take his eyes off you.
“Five. Five.” Luther seemed to call out to him in the background, but he didn't care.
You walked down the steps the same way you glided through that ballroom, as if the floor were your clouds. Yours robes were uniform this time, but Five was pretty sure that behind that high collar, your skin harbored a birthmark on your collarbone. Your hair was down, but he knew how you looked with your strands tied up.
With each step you took, more his pulse quickened. It was like a dream, a mirage, his oasis in the scorching desert. At some point in the battle against the Commission he had died, and that was his dream.
However, Luther's hand gripped his arm, forcing his green eyes to meet his brother's.
“Dude, what's wrong with you? Didn't you hear dad saying that we're in another reality?”
“I am not your father.” Reginald countered. “Not in this reality.”
Five frowned, rationality slowly returning to his body, his brain taking over once more. A parallel reality. That explained a lot. A reality where…you existed.
Holy shit.
Someone said the Hargreeves had better go, and Five would have laughed out loud if he hadn't submerged in thoughts. If they really was in a parallel reality, that meant you didn't remember him. You didn't even know him. The version who have danced with him was still in another century, in a timeline far, far away.
But…Five looked up. You radiated the same beauty of the romantic period as before, your skin still looked feather soft, your lips still where able to take away his complete self-control, your eyes still have… the same glow that he remembered so many times during so many nights.
You didn't know him, but that didn't matter. Because Five knew you.
He suffered the worst of martyrdoms all this time, and now that he'd finally, finally found you once more, he wasn't going to leave. Even if it meant having to make you fall in love with him all over again. In fact, Five Hargreeves would dedicate his entire lives to making you fall in love with him all over again in every reality there is. He would have as many times as necessary a first dance with you.
He didn't realize it, but his lips lifted in a smile. In a snap of fingers, everything reached a apex, higher than the buildings, higher even to the clouds. All the problems evaporated like mist in the sun, and being in a parallel reality, with a father that wasn't his, in a house that wasn't the one he grew up in, seemed to be extremely insignificant.
For the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was happy. And nothing would change that.
That's when, amidst all the arguing the Hargreeves and Sparrows were having around, your eyes met his. And for him it was like coming home after an excruciating winter.
You cocked your head slightly to the side, intrigued by the way that man was looking at you so…surrendered. You understood the gravity of the situation, of those strangers breaking into your home and trying to claim everything as theirs. You were also irritated just like your siblings.
But... when you looked at that man… with eyes so green and hair so dark, something inside you caught your breath. A shiver went up your spine. And maybe you were crazy, but you can swear that felt your soul heave a sigh of…relief. A strange, emotional feeling reverberated through your spirit as if…somehow you'd just found what you've spent so long waiting to met again.
It don’t make sense.
As the confrontation unfolded between the two families, you couldn't help but notice that, minute by minute, you found yourself wanting to look at this man more. As if it were never going to be enough, as if the second you turned your head, you were overcome with an insane urge to see more. You should be focused on trying to get those strangers out of your house, not admiring one of them.
But Five realized that. A spark inside him vibrated with hope, and he delighted in being able to relive the feeling of what it was like to be looked at by you again.
But before he or you could even do anything, the physical feud between the two families broke out with astonishing speed, spreading like the plague. Diego, as usual, was the first to go into battle, followed by Luther and Allison.
See, you didn't consider yourself a confrontational person. Your peculiarity was to manipulate the natural elements and, although that made you one of the strongest figures among your siblings, you had a more adventurous spirit than a fighter. There was no such homeric thirst in your blood to be the best, the strongest, the most brutal. Ben said that was the most unattractive thing about you, but Sloane saw this feature with good eyes. Like you, she wasn't much inclined to brutality.
The fight drove you and Five away from each other, separated by rooms, siblings and war. You saw your family appeal to brute aggression very quickly, while, if you're honest, you didn't want to hurt anyone. Is trut that you were irritated by the way they claimed your house as theirs, but you didn't think they were bad people.
Or all this bland resolutions were for the fact that you didn't want to hurt him. Because, in some way you couldn't explain, you knew he wouldn't hurt you.
But that's when Alphonso yelled at you from upstairs. “Y/N! Do fucking something too!”
Everyone was scattered around the house, but you still remained downstairs, in the living room, arranging a way to help without being very aggressive like your siblings were being. You had no intention of killing or seriously injuring them, but you also weren't willing to put up with the scolding your brothers would give you if you continued to be omitte.
So, when one of the strangers came running to get away from something, the tail of his dark overcoat dancing in the air and his black hat toppling along the path, your reaction was to do the one thing that couldn't seem to do any real damage. In a wave of the hand, the windows were shattered by large, sprawling tree roots, that came out of the garden earth like thick snakes and entered the house in a steady stream.
The man gave a high-pitched scream, but his feet were already entwined by the roots and he was knocked to the ground. The roots, which spilled earth over the floor and exhaled a forest smell, wrapped themselves around the man's body up to his chest, with the only purpose of immobilizing him.
You weren't putting force or brutality, and you were sure the roots were just putting considerable pressure on, like a bandage around an injured arm. But the man didn't seem to notice this, because he kept screaming.
The fear should still be clouding his senses, and you revealed the situation. For it wasn't often that someone was wrapped around by giant roots that moved of their own accord. In your place, you would have reacted that way too.
“Hey, hey” you tried to get closer “It's ok, they won't hurt you and…”
But your speech was interrupted by shrill hum, which cut through the air with force and passed like a bullet in front of your face, shaking a few locks of your hair. The speed were frightening, and for a second your heart stopped in your chest. The fright made you take two steps back immediately, but in a matter of seconds any feeling was replaced by a very strong burning in your left cheek. In the same second, a hot liquid began to ooze from your injured skin like water in a current, spreading pain wherever went.
Two seconds that were able to put you face to face with death. Because that attack was not joking.
The bearded man ran to help the one who was lying on the ground, forcing his freedom between the roots that were now weak due to your distraction.
Unlike you, Diego didn't care about the things he had to do to save his family. He was willing to injure, inflict permanent damage, even killing if that was the only way out. He would have a guilty conscience later, but in the heat of the moment, he wouldn't hesitate. Diego did this to the Commission agents hours ago, and he would do this to you if he had to. As sure as the sky was blue, the Sparrows were the enemy. And he was the hero. Thats it. Two polar opposites, destined to face each other into the death.
And that was why he didn't hesitate to attack when he saw Klaus lying on the floor, screaming as if he were being killed. After getting a small taste of the kind of things your powers were capable of doing, it was pretty clear that you were one of the first ones that needed to go down. So Diego didn't hesitate either when he pulled Klaus off the ground, and wielded yet another dagger. Aiming not to hurt, but to kill.
But love could drive even the smartest minds crazy.
Because when the dagger was thrown in the air, a blue flash invaded the scene and a male body enveloped yours, pushing both of you aside in a rough, protective, intense gesture.
Five Hargreeves was on the stair railing, fighting Jayme, when Klaus's screams grab his attention. He didn't have much time to process what he was seeing, but the moment one of Diego's daggers slashed across your cheek, the primal, visceral instinct he'd felt so long ago, with The Handler on The Commission, roared through him like an angry beast. So when another dagger was wielded and thrown into the air, he didn't think twice, didn't hesitate, didn't blink.
Dropping everything behind, Five Hargreeves dove into the blue flash, having you as the only focus in mind.
As soon as the crash of his body with yours caused you both to leave the deadly path, the arms, masculine and wide, wrapped around your back as if he were holding the only anchorage on the high seas in the middle of a storm. His heart was pounding in his chest, and as much that adrenaline, primal instinct and rage were bubbling through his body, he still managed to feel his soul sighing in deep relief when felt your warmth again in his arms.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"
Diego's angry roar seemed to shake the walls, but didn't stop the obstinate, angry look that swallowed Five's expression.
“Diego…” his voice didn't match the situation the Hargreeves found themselves in. His tone was serious, steady, so calm it was terrifying, like the warning of darkness to the light. “Stay away from her.”
His brother's confused and perplexed look couldn't have been more accentuated. And even Klaus, known for being the least serious about situations, looked completely astonished. Five Hargreeves didn't held you like he was preventing a murder. No. He held you like Cerberus should have held the only person he was ever loyal to.
"You are fucking crazy?!" Diego gestured with his hands “Let go the enemy now!”
The Hargreeves have been through a lot, seen a lot. Many of them being absurd, beyond any rationality or law of physics, moments in which they had to deal with situations that were not possible to be of this world. But nothing, and no one, could have prepared Diego and Klaus for what they heard from Five;
"Never."
The moment was dispersed when Viktor appeared in the room, shaking, hurt, out of his mind. His head fell back in a single gesture, his arms opened up and the fists closed, as white lights began to shoot out from within his eyes and chest.
Five Hargreeves knew what that meant.
He didn't think twice before running to the side, hiding you behind the bar counter and lowering you two bodies to the floor. His body in front of yours, blocking access to the roughest impact in you.
You two had three seconds, three seconds to look into each other's eyes before the flash explodes. And in that three seconds, the only thing that passed in the soul of both of you was the feeling of finally being where should be.
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"They're stupid villains who think they're smart!" Ben was furious in the kitchen, pacing back and forth.
The last few days had passed like this. With Ben angry about the invasion, Ben angry about the fight, Ben angry about Marcus disappearing, Ben angry about... well... he was always angry.
Of all your siblings, he had the worst temper. Fei and Christopher were practically his dogs, going along with all of Ben's stupid plans just because... you really didn't know why they followed him so fervently, but had a theory that it was because they both thought they would have more power when Ben's plans came to fruition.
A hierarchical system that filled the family with toxicity.
On the other hand, there were Jayme and Alphonso. You never really understood the two, but you described them as bullies. A duo who liked the power they had and how they managed to exert it over people.
The only one you could relate to more deeply was Sloane.
"It would have been better if Y/n had made an attack." Alphonso brought your name up in conversation, his gaze full of rancor.
"Fuck off, asshole" It was the only thing you deigned to say, because you didn't have the patience to deal with his comments at the time.
The truth is, since the invasion, you couldn't get him out of your mind.
It was like a drug, an addiction, that had seeped into your blood from the first time you laid eyes on him. There was something there, something you could never explain. He should be the enemy. Your enemy. But…
The way he saved you from the knives, the way his arms wrapped around you. Almost like he already knows how to hold you. How to protect you.
Your heart couldn't slow down whenever your thoughts returned to that man. From the memory of him placing his body in front of you, standing at the forefront of the explosion.
He saved you. Everytime. And there was something that told you he would save you every chance he got.
The truth was…you wanted to see him. Know his name. Talk with him. There was no longer a fiber of your being that saw the situation as your siblingsdid, your body was facing the complete opposite north.
You wanted to touch him, not fight with him.
When time passed, and Luther showed up at the mansion as someone who was kidnapped, you, again, did not see the situation as a beneficial opportunity for your family. But for you.
Suddenly, your entire soul was gripped by a completely unsettling anxiety that made your hands itch, stomach churn, and your legs unable to stay still. Then you were swept by a feeling of deep sadness, as if you'd already experienced what it was like to spend your whole life wanting to see that man and never getting.
There was no more logic, rationality or coherence to what you were feeling, but finding him was as indispensable as breathing.
That's why you volunteered - more like an imposition - that you would be the one to escort Luther home the moment Ben said he could leave.
“It was kind of you to accompany me” The blond man smiled at you, as the two of you walked through the night streets.
"It was nothing." You tried to sound casual, but with every step toward your destination, the more your hands itched, the more your heart was racing, and in a moment, you found yourself picking up the pace to get there faster.
“I have to confess that you were a topic of discussion between my brothers.” Luther laughed, his odd way of bringing up the subject and not mincing words.
But that got your attention. "What do you mean?"
“A-ahem…well…from what I understand, Diego wanted to kill you, but Five stopped him and…”
Five…Five
His name was Five.
Something inside you stirred. An unfamiliar emotion, but one that made a smile rise to yourcheeks.
“Five” you tried to say aloud, and his name just… felt right on your lips.
You went the rest of the way not being able to pay attention to a single syllable Luther was saying. You don't wanted to be rude, but you just… couldn't stop thinking about Five.
“How long before we get there?” you cut off something Luther was saying about Sloane, and the blond eyebrows drawing together in strangeness.
“Actually” he looked at the big hotel in front of him “We already arrived and…”
But you couldn't stop yourself. All of your muscles felt like they had undergone countless electrical discharges, your heart was faster than any living soul has ever been, and your blood was rushing through your veins like marathon runners. You increased your pace considerably, quickly climbing the steps and opening the doors of that building as if you had just walked through the gates of paradise.
You needed to see him.
Luther came up behind you, giving you a suspicious look and walking towards a bar, where the outlines of several people were talking.
-----------
"I returned." Luther's voice brought Five out of his thoughts, and a part of her brain tried to remember the time his brother had left.
And he didn't find any answers.
To his defence, Five's mind had been elsewhere these days. Moments when he rewound in his mind once, twice, three times. Not even the impending new apocalypse knocking on the door seemed to have any effect on Five. To be honest, he… saw no point in trying to save the world this time. Meeting you once was a miracle, but meeting you again, in an entirely different reality and without The Commission making things difficult, seemed like too much of a luxury for him to ignore.
The truth was that in the first attempt to escape the apocalypse he ended up sending the family to different times, with intervals of years between each one. And, deep down, he didn't know if he could handle trying to take you with him to another reality and end up losing you too.
Five had been through this once before. He knew pain too well not to be willing to risk it.
“What is the enemy doing here?!"
Diego's voice snapped Five out of his thoughts, and an electric current shot through his head and reverberated down to his toes. Immediately, without any hesitation, his eyes flew away, finding not just Luther - whit several bags in hand - but you beside him.
You.
Something inside him ignited, his heart raced and, for a moment, the whole world around him fell away.
But just for a moment, because Diego was already getting up from his seat.
“Hey. Hey!” Five teleported away, once again placing the body in front of you . “What the hell do you think you are doing?”
“What would anyone do to the enemy! What are you doing? Defending a stranger again?!"
“She is not a stranger, Diego. Now be quiet in your place before I have to do it for you.”
"She is not?" Klaus and Viktor said in unison
"I'm not?" Your voice, the only one that mattered to him, came from behind his back, quieter than the others but loud enough for him to hear.
Five turned towards you, turning his back on his siblings. Unlike how he looked at Diego, his eyes held all the softness and attention in the world when they met yours. A small smile appeared at the corner of his left mouth, a secret smile, hidden from the world but revealed only to you.
"It's a long story," he admitted, having no idea how to start. How to tell something that even to him don't make sense.
“I came to see you.” you rewarded his honesty with another truth, a gleam crossing his eyes like shooting stars. “I have time to listen.”
A smile blossomed on his lips, and Five was overcome by the purest feeling of happiness. Without saying anything, or giving anyone satisfaction, his hand laced into yours, and he disappeared with you in the blue flash.
-----------
Any sensible, practical, centered woman, would have laughed at what Five had just told you. Anyone who didn't get carried away by matters of the heart and didn't believe that two people, when destined to be together, are helped even by the wind, would have turned around and walked away.
But you weren't a sensible woman, nor practical, much less centered. Your being was composed of romance, adventure and magic. You fervently believed in destiny, soulmates and that some loves are capable of overcoming the barrier of space and time.
What's more, if all that wasn't enough, you also felt, from your soul to your bones, sensations that couldn't be explained. Feelings he was also saying he felt too. You believed in him. And that fact came as soft as the droplets of dew, as the brightness of the moon.
After his account came to end, with him letting himself be vulnerable in telling all the thoughts that ever crossed his mind about you, the urge to say just one thing screamed your blood rumbling. “You’re no the villain in my story” your words hung in the air.
“I am,” Five's voice brimmed with a liquid honesty that was able to chill your bones, but nothing in his words hinted at remorse for the things he'd already done. “But i'll be the villain for you. Not to you. I'll let worlds burn again if it means keeping you alive. In a problematic way, that I'll never be able to explain, I don't feel guilty about doing something if it means your safety.”
Five Hargreeves expected many things. Many different reactions. Many words of contradiction. But never what happened next.
Your mouth, without any hesitation, joined his in a kiss that was capable of making his world explode. His body was ignited by a fire that swallowed even his soul, washing away all his sins and giving a demon a taste of heaven.
So what was it like to kiss a goddess? An angel, a muse.
If before, without even touching your skin without the interference of clothing, Five would have happily accepted going to hell, now, with your hot mouth melting into his like warm honey, he would accept the torture of eternal fire with a smile on his face.
And when the small kiss intensified into something much bigger, his hands, warm and masculine, wrapped possessively around your waist. There was no going back. There was no turning back. Five would keep you for himself in the same selfishness that a villain steals a princess. And there was no hero in the world capable of pulling you away of his clutches.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” He found the last bit of strength to let you know when your hands untied his tie “I could really hurt you.”
But all good intentions evaporated when your eyes, eager and full of desire, blinked at him. There was an addictive sweetness in that look. The way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, the way your eyes held tinges of delicious submission but hid an incendiary fire behind them.
Fucking damn. He wanted you so badly.
"I don't care." Your breathless whisper invaded the room. But he didn't know if you understood the seriousness of the situation.
“Y/n.” his hands cupped your face. “I spent a lot of time contenting just for the way you looked at me. Spending sleepless nights reliving what it was like to feel the contour of your waist in my hand.” His voice was serious, deep, rough like sand scraping against stone. “Do you have any idea of the things I'm going to do to you now that I can finally, finally, have you?” his pitch lowered a few notes, like a predator talking to its prey.
You didn't know it, but only imagination made yours thighs tighten.
“I can destroy you.” his lips went to the foot of your ear, down to the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent and tasting you. “I can leave your body purple, your breasts bitten, your hips marked by the aggressiveness of mine whenever I enter on you.”
A moan escaped your mouth, fingers tightening on his arms, head lolling to the side.
Oh lord, please he do that.
Five's hands went up to your shoulders, in a touch that became more and more possessive, gluttonous, as if he wanted to swallow you.
“I can spend hours fucking you.” his fingers lowered the straps of your dress, letting the fabric fall unceremoniously to the floor. Five pulled his face away enough to be able to look at your body fully, and a husky growl followed right away. “I can kill you.”
Here, in that moment, Five Hargreeves was giving you one last chance to give up, to make him tame the villain he was and who would destroy you for any other man.
If you slept with Five Hargreeves, you would never stop being his.
"Do it." but you didn't have an ounce of self-preservation in the inner body "please."
You didn't have to beg twice. His hands pulled your legs up, making you place your feet on his hips and hug him with your legs. Your back hit the closed bedroom door as Hargreeves' mouth claimed all it could of his. Twisting your tongue around his, biting and sucking on your bottom lip, he was beginning to mark you as his in a single kiss.
“You have no idea how much I want you.” his confession was more of a hoarse groan, hands fumbling with his belt and lowering the waistband of his pants.
Under other circumstances, he would have sucked you until drive you unconscious, pushing your walls with his fingers until you begged for his cock. But he didn't have the presence of mind to do that now. Not now. Not today. He warned of the consequences of wanting to continue at that moment. But you wanted, you begged, and now he was no longer afraid of being able to fuck you with all the vehemence he needed.
Your moans invaded the room very quickly, your waist, even if limited by the door, moved in his groin, exorcising any common sense and control that Five once had.
He pushed your panties to the side impolitely and entered you in one single, glorious, primal thrust. His cock slid in with extreme ease, being completely soaked by the way your pussy was so slick.
“Oh fucking hell” his growl sent even more waves of pleasure to your uterus, and you pressed your mouth to his neck to keep from screaming.
That's when he withdrew and pushed himself into you. Strong, brute. Hitting until found the bottom of the well. His thrusts began relentlessly, thrusting in and out of you aggressively, possessively, almost animalistic. Five's hands were all over yourbody, fingerprinting every bit of your flesh. The nails digging into your waist when you contracted and squeezed him within your plush walls.
“Fuck. fuck.” his groans mingled with the attrition of the bodies of you two against the door, which sent loud, telltale noises throughout the hotel.
But you would rather die than stop.
His cock suddenly hit a place that made your moans come out too loud. Tears began to pool in the corner of your eyes, and your toes curled.
“Oh do you feel this, baby?” Five teased you, digging himself as deep as possible anatomically and rubbing the tip of his cock there, eliciting sly, desperate cries from you "That's your cervix."
Then he went back to fucking you aggressively, this time pulling his chest away from you and digging his hands hard into the flesh of your hips, pulling you towards him at a intensity that could only be described as animalistic.
This was better than anything he had ever tasted in his life. Better than any sin. Better than any whiskey.
His cock desecrated your pussy like it was the only thing that mattered in the world, pulling thick liquids out of you that enveloped him in pasty white rings. Five Hargreeves would ensure that whenever you thought of any man, your mind was invaded by the way he fucked you.
"I will… I will…" your tearful voice blended with the noise of the door slamming and your bodies bumping into each other.
“Thats right, baby” his mouth covered your “cum for me. cum so I can fill that gluttonous pussy with my cum.”
If the way he thrust in and out of you wasn't enough to make you come, his lines had done the job. You came in a glorious explosion of stars, colors and sensations. Your body contracted with absurd force and relaxed like the best of massages. Your arms went limp around his neck, and you could feel his cock tremble and the hot, thick liquid fill your entire pussy.
The noise of the door stopped, his moans calmed down and now the only thing that could be heard was the heavy breathing in the air.
You thought it was over, until Five climbs a hand to your neck and lets out a broken growl "'You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat, baby."
His cock moved inside you, moving in and out smoothly, pushing his cum even deeper inside you. Make sure you gobble it all up.
“Did you think we were done, princess?” he chuckled evilly, his lips moving closer until they were inches from yours. "I'm just getting started. I'm going to show you how much I've wanted you this whole fucking time.”
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part two of my girl pleaseeee!!!!
Ask and thou shalt receive! Here you go reader ❤️
My girl pt.2
Synopsis: Five has become obsessed and lovesick over Y/N. your just so perfect in his eyes. oh how you could do no wrong
Mini stories MDNI 18+
Yandere five x reader (Everyone is adults)
Warnings: Stalking, obsession, Yandere five, sexual content (Masturbating and fantasies), unconsenual photography, home invasion and secret plans
When five got home he hardly got through the door before taking off his pants. he was frantically unbuttoning his belt and heading to his bedroom, the image of you naked fresh in his mind.
His pants were soon thrown somewhere in his bedroom with little to no care at all. He leaned back against the wall his cock standing at attention. He looked to the photo’s he took of you and whimpered, precum quickly rising and spilling down his throbbing cock
“Oh my beautiful love, you’re so lovely. That body of yours” his head fell back and he whimpered. He could no longer tease himself, his hand wrapped around his cock and went at a slow pace at first causing his legs to stutter and he whimpered. His hand going faster as he imagined pounding your sweet cunt, your legs pushed to your chest in a mating press and filling you over and over till you could no longer think.
That did him in cause after just a few more strokes he was shooting cum to the floor, rope after rope of white as he pathetically whimpered and shook with the force of his orgasm.
After a clean up of himself and the floor he was writing about it in his journal like the sick man he was. He gushed about his visions of you and how pretty you would be filled to the brim with his cum.
On another day he was desperate to be in the same room as her. It was like an itch you cant scratch or an itch in your hand you have to bite to make it stop. So late at night he came to her house when he knew his precious girl was fast asleep. He circled the house trying to find an open window or unlocked door. it must’ve been his lucky day cause your bedroom window was unlocked. Oh how silly his poor baby was. It was only right he came in and checked on her right? It’s what good lovers do. He crawled in through the window and he sighed happily smelling her perfume in the room and the lovely warm atmosphere that was you and your home.
he looked to your bed practically shaking in excitement seeing you right there. He knew he could blink in and out of the house but something was more thrilling about being possibly caught. His eyes were practically hearts as he looked at you. He shuffled closer and swallowed a nervous lump. God you were so beautiful. You looked like a goddess in the pale moonlight. He sighed contentedly and took out his polaroid from his bag. He began to snap photo’s of you. All in different angles but all of them beautiful.
Once he was done playing photographer he looked around your room. He saw all your little trinkets and collectibles and clothes up close. He opened a drawer and he had to clap a hand over his mouth to silence the gasp. It was your underwear. Oh god. He saw all kinds. Regular ones meant for comfortable casual relaxing and he saw the sexy pair. Oh god he closed the drawer blushing. His cock rock hard and straining his jeans. He quickly decided to take his leave. He blinked out of your house and made a sprint for home.
The next day you awoke from your sleep. you had a pretty good night. you stood from your bed and felt something cold and odd under your foot. You looked down to see a square. you bent over and picked it up turning it around and to your horror it was a photo of you asleep in your own bed. Your eyes widened in horror and your hands shook. You dropped it and backed up and sat down on the edge of your bed thinking about what you just saw.
Ol’ fivey was a little careless this time. He left crucial evidence within your grasp. Oh well the thrill was so fun to five. His darling girl was so beautiful and lovely. He couldn’t care less.
Five was sat in his desk at home scrap booking a whole page of you sleeping. he was thinking about you the whole time. A life together would be nice wouldn’t it? What kind of house do you want? how many kids? what would you be like living with? oh his lovely girl would be perfect!
As five thought he had a plan. An unethical plan but you know what a plans a plan. he had to have you. One way or another. He was going to pay someone to attack you and he can be your night and shining armor and save you and nurse you back to health. Make you fall for him and he can have you for forever. Oh yes, yes! if he was the type he would be jumping for joy.
He was going to have his darling girl one way or another. Your heart will be his, forever and always.
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Hi! i hope you like it! i tried to make a good second part and i plan to make a third part! i love you stay safe put there people ❤️
#the umbrella academy#five hargreeves#tua#number five#umbrella acedmy#five hargreeves x reader#five x you#five hargreaves x reader#number five x you#five hargreeves smut#number five x reader#tua five#five x reader#number 5#five x y/n
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A Hargreeves Christmas Carol | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader | Ch. 1
SUMMARY: Luther is the sort of idiot who goes around with a 'Merry Christmas' and a goofy smile on his lips. In your opinion, he should be roasted with his own turkey and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. Who better to teach you the error of your ways than Luther's brother, the man who holds the power of Christmases Past, Present, and Yet to Come in the palm of his hand? Info/Announcement Post
Chapter One (Rated G-T, 3.4k words)
Marley's Ghost
Luther was annoying to begin with, there was no doubt whatsoever about that. Despite this, you developed a grudging friendship with him over the years, based mainly on the fact he was impossible to spurn.
He was a regular in your little bar, and his good moods were completely unflappable. No matter how surly and taciturn you might be with him on a bad day, he always greeted you like his best friend the next time you saw him. In this fashion, his company became gradually bearable to you over the years you knew him, and you learned to welcome his bright-eyed, towering figure with no bad grace.
“Hey!” he said, cheerfully, as he bounced through the door early on Christmas Eve, bringing with him a blast of cold air from the slush-filled streets outside.
You looked up at him and nodded, suppressing a roll of your eyes at his appearance. He was wearing a luxuriant velvet Santa hat and an obnoxious Christmas sweater depicting gingerbread houses, elves, and snowflakes in lurid colors particularly offensive to the eye.
Long ago, you’d concluded that the holidays were for idiots, and, although you liked him, Luther more than qualified.
Yes, you’d decorated the bar, but as sparsely as it was possible to get away with: few coloured lights here and there and some limp tinsel around the window frames, but that was it. When your employee Robbie tried timidly to introduce a Christmas tree, that bullshit was in the dumpster out back before a half hour had passed.
“Merry Christmas,” Luther said, beaming, “happy holidays, and happy New Year!”
“Merry Christmas, Luther.” Robbie replied, looking up from serving another customer to give him a wave, which Luther returned gleefully.
“Enough with that bullshit already,” you grumbled, filling him a glass of his usual beer/
“Christmas?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief, “Bullshit? Surely you don’t mean that?”
“Sure I do,” you said, setting his beer down on the bar in front of him and holding out your hand expectantly, “I don’t see what’s particularly ‘merry’ about it. It’s just some commercialised holiday. Idiots going into debt just to buy their kid the latest trash.”
Luther frowned and pulled out a bill.
“I don’t see why it shouldn’t be merry.” he said, though sounding a little disquieted, “You own this place, right? You must see people coming in to celebrate all the time. That sort of happiness is infectious. It must at least make you happy to see other people happy?”
You just scoffed and turned away, busying yourself about the bar taps.
“Come on,” Luther called after you, in a conciliatory tone, “are you annoyed with me?”
You were, but when you turned back to him, you tried to keep your tone light.
“Do you have any idea how shit it is working a bar at Christmas? The only thing that makes it worth it is the extra money. People make a mess, they make a lot of noise, they get drunk and they sing. They fuck you up the ass with a candy cane, shove a holly jolly dick in your mouth and expect you to just smile through it.”
There was a moment of silence while Luther absorbed this colorful language, and then he spoke again.
“I guess you got a point. Customer service at Christmas has gotta be hard. But the day itself is fun, right? It’s a time for family. It’s a time to show people that you care about them”
You let out a loud “pfft.”
“If I’m anywhere on Christmas day, it’s as far away from my family as it’s possible to be. I’ll be at home alone, thank god.”
Luther looked at you, and you found yourself even more irritated by the expression of sympathy in his blue eyes.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, genuinely, “everyone should be with someone they care about on Christmas, even if they don’t celebrate.”
You let out another sound of derision, and Luther looked briefly down at the bar.
“Christmas can make people kinder,” he said, quietly, “and I know they should be kind all year round, but it reminds people to be more open hearted. Peace and goodwill to all men, y'know? And so, yeah, Christmas is commercialised and stuff, but it’s a reminder to love one another and appreciate the people around us. And in this world, I think that’s important.”
As he gave this speech, his voice became more confident, and by the end he was sitting up straighter on his bar stool, looking at you with earnestness that did nothing to improve your mood.
“Well said Luther,” piped up Robbie, enthusiastically, giving him a little round of applause.
You shot him a look, and he quickly stopped and went back to cleaning the bar.
“Bullshit,” you said again, dismissing his sickly speech.
But Luther was undeterred.
“Listen,” he continued, gently, “I’m spending Christmas with my family. It’s low key, and we all bring guests. I’m cooking, and there’s enough to feed twenty. The way I see it, the more the merrier.”
Your nostrils flared. Was he really doing what you thought he was doing?
“I like you,” he said, “you remind me of Five. You remember Five, right?”
You nodded tightly. You more than remembered Five. Over the years he visited the bar with Luther and occasionally alone. You had to admit you found him…intriguing. You’d decided some time ago that you were done with men, but that didn’t mean you didn’t occasionally stop to enjoy the view.
You and he shared the same cynical sense of humor, and though he wasn’t exactly friendly, he was polite, tipped well, flirted like a pro, and was easy enough on the eye that his occasional acerbic comments were interesting rather than irritating.
“Five’s a grumpy asshole too,” Luther continued, “but he and I both know what it’s like to be alone. It can break you, and I don’t want to see that happen to you. Why don’t you drop in on us tomorrow?”
He paused here, smiling winningly and giving you time to answer. He looked so much like a gleeful puppy that you half expected him to let his tongue loll out and start panting with excitement.
But your just-restrained anger had broken its bounds; your face felt flushed, and his canine expression did nothing but prod the angry hound inside of you, raising your hackles.
“Come over,” he said, cajolingly, a hopeful expression starting on his face, “We won’t sing until we get really drunk, and I promise nobody will threaten to sodomise you with a candy cane.”
He paused and then amended his last statement:
“I can almost promise you nobody will threaten to sodomise you with a candy cane. But come anyway.”
Your lips tightened. You weren’t some charity case. When you finally got the words out, you spoke with low, dangerous emphasis.
“I think I’d rather see you in hell than see you for Christmas.”
Luther looked hurt, but you didn’t care. Who was he to come into your bar, and lecture you about family and kindness and all that sentimental bullshit. He had no idea. You felt your fists clenching at your sides, and when you continued, your shaking voice got louder with every word:
“What makes you think I want to spend time with you and your weird-ass family?”
“I was just trying to be a friend to you.” Luther said, crestfallen.
“I don’t need friends!” you cried, furious now, “You seriously have to grow up, Luther. Grown-ups don’t believe in Santa Claus, and grown-ups don’t think one day playing nice around a Christmas tree means jack shit. So why not keep all your Christmas shit to yourself and mind your own goddamn business?”
Luther blinked, cut to the quick, and you began to polish the bar in a determined sort of way.
“Why are you pushing me away?” he asked.
You didn’t answer, so Luther stood, leaving half his beer on the bar.
“I’m sorry I upset you,” he said, wounded, but dignified, “I can see now that Christmas doesn’t mean to you what it means to me. But still, I hope you have a good day, whether you celebrate or not.”
You didn’t answer him, pretending to be intent on your work, and his hulking figure retreated, leaving the bar with a quick, sad wave to Robbie.
You ignored Robbie’s reproachful looks and continued about your business, counting down the hours to closing time when you could get home and get away from all the idiot revellers.
Meanwhile, the snow thickened outside, and the sky darkened rapidly. It was already a cold day, with thick, portentous clouds, but the evening was bitter, and the night even more so; harsh and biting.
The Christmas eve party goers were wrapped in layers upon layers of clothing, but even the most stout of them thinned out as the night wore on, scared off by the wind and snowstorm, no doubt fearful of getting stranded in the city if the bad weather persisted.
By the time you closed up, there was nobody there to throw out. All was quiet and still but for the wilting tinsel shifting minutely in the tiny draft at the window frame. The bar was deserted - as dead as a doornail, you might say.
Robbie left as soon as you gave him the nod, head bowed, holding onto his scarf for dear life as it whirled and bucked in the wind that threatened at every moment to tear it from his neck.
When the door blew closed behind him with an abrupt, wall-shaking slam, you were totally alone.
The bar was part of an old city block, and thus odd noises were audible in your apartment above at the best of times. As bad as the weather was that night, you could hear strange grindings and creakings as soon as you mounted the stairs.
The back of your neck prickled, warning you of who knew what, even as you told yourself firmly not to be so ridiculous.
You shivered, wishing very much that you’d gotten around to changing the light bulb in the windowless stairwell, meaning that you were in full dark as you made your way haltingly up the stairs.
The stairs were old too: wooden, uneven and whining in protest with every step. Though you weren’t usually one for superstition or hyperbole, your mind couldn’t help but dwell upon the sounds: they sounded increasingly like the wails of desperate, neglected children as you progressed higher and higher towards the top landing.
At that moment, with your hand at last on the doorknob, there was a strange frisson in the air, something that was half sound and half sensation.
And your blood ran cold.
This sound was unlike any that could be the result of bad weather on an old building. It was a zap and a crack, and it made all the hairs on your arms stand on end, like the few seconds of eerie anticipation before a lightning strike.
You froze, suddenly wary of what might be inside. Very slowly, you pressed your ear to the door and listened, yet heard nothing but the wind’s ambient noise.
“Pull yourself together,” you chided yourself under your breath.
You unlocked and opened the door quietly and hurriedly, not daring to flick on lights in case it alerted an intruder to your presence. Indeed, you found the living space within quiet and empty to the eye, lit slightly by the street lamps outside.
You even checked behind the door, just to reassure yourself that there was nobody lurking behind it.There was nobody there, of course: no sound but for the rushing wind whistling down the street, and no sign that anything might be amiss.
No sign but that creeping sensation on the back of your neck, of course.
You sighed, frustrated with your own silliness.
Still, unable to shake that feeling, you carefully, soundlessly picked up the baseball bat you kept behind your coat stand and crept from living room, to bathroom, to bedroom, just to prove to yourself that you were just being foolish. You even looked behind the couch, behind the shower curtain and under the bed, just for good measure.
At one point, you gave a violent start at what sounded like an electric whoosh as you stood in front of the wardrobe, but when you opened the door with the bat raised, there was nothing inside that shouldn’t be there.
But there was a smell, you thought. A whiff of something vaguely familiar, and then it was gone. The smell of mint or eucalyptus lingering in the air.
Again, there was that creeping sensation at the back of your neck, flesh needling, as if you were being…
As if you were being watched.
You whirled around, but again the room and doorway were perfectly empty, and no sound suggested the presence of anybody but yourself and the ceaseless wind outside.
“It’s nothing but the smell of bullshit,” you muttered to yourself, dismissively.
When you were finally satisfied that your apartment was indeed quiet and still, you double locked the front door, even putting it on the chain, a precaution you didn’t usually take.
Slightly comforted by this, you moved into the living room to unwind before bed, sat down on the couch, and turned on the TV, reaching likewise to turn on a lamp beside you.
And then, in the glow from the TV, you saw him.
As large as life, there was a man sitting in the darkest corner of your living room.
He was well dressed, wearing a three piece suit and a grim expression. But for his very solid appearance, you might have believed he was a ghost, lit as he was in an unearthly hue by the TV’s blue light, throwing his face into a strange distortion of light and shadow.
You opened your mouth to scream, but before sound could come out, he vanished and reappeared above you, clapping one hand over your mouth with one hand and grabbing your wrists with the other, looking down at you from beneath heavy brows, his strong jaw working with the effort of keeping your flailing hands contained.
It was then that you recognised him.
“Fiph?” you cried, muffled from behind his hand, “whadafu?”
It was Five himself.
He raised his eyebrows, handsome jaw angled upwards. It was an unspoken question: can you be quiet?”
You nodded, and he took his hand away from your mouth.
“What the fuck, Five?”
And there it was: a waft of mint and eucalyptus that at once explained why it smelled familiar, as well as the noise from your wardrobe.
“What the hell are you doing?!” you shrieked, panicked again, and he quickly clamped his hand back over your mouth.
“I’m here to talk. Keep your goddamn voice down and turn on that lamp. I can’t see for shit.”
Your whole arm trembling, you turned on the lamp beside you, and Five’s face was lit in a more natural glow.
As always when confronted with Five, you couldn’t help but notice his appearance: his clear, smooth skin; his noble, expressive brow; his intelligent green eyes, shaded by hair and reflecting the lamplight. His long fingers were hooked around your jaw, and you could feel the warmth of his palm against your lips.
It was this that made you stop trembling.
Sensing this, he removed his hand again, and when you didn’t scream, he sat down on the other end of the couch. Before he settled, he reached back to the armchair he’d just vacated to pull a briefcase across the carpet so that it rested against his feet.
“What do you want with me?” you asked, half anger, half fear.
“Much,” Five said, simply.
You stared at him.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, surveying you with those eyes, holding yours with quiet authority.
“You might say I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” he said, “You’ve fucked up.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, half angry, half afraid.
“Well,” he said, settling his hands on his top leg, “I never told you this, but I work for an organization that handles the timeline, and its raison d'être is to make sure that everything happens as it’s supposed to. That’s why I have this briefcase,” he said, tapping it with his foot, “it allows me to travel back and forth in time, and fix fuck ups like yours.
“I thought you could already travel in time,” you said, “isn’t that, like, your whole thing?”
There was a flicker of annoyance on his face then, and you were glad to see it: it was evidence that you’d pricked his ego, and it was enough to make him seem a little less intimidating.
“I do have natural time travel ability,” he said, carefully, struggling to maintain the almost professional air he’d adopted, “but the briefcase allows me to be precise.”
“So, basically, you suck at time travel without your security blanket?” you said, pressing your advantage.
Nobody broke into your home and got away without being taken down a peg or two.
Five scowled, and you felt a brief sense of triumph as he continued.
“Oh, because you’re so good at time travel?” he snapped, sarcasm dripping from his words.
“No,” you said, causticly, “I own a bar. It’s not exactly in the job description. But if I couldn't make you decent Manhattan without clinging to a recipe book, you might start to think I’m under-qualified.”
Five’s scowl deepened, and even though this should theoretically make him more frightening, it didn’t: it further levelled the playing field.
“As pleasant as this little back and forth is,” he said with a hint of his old flirtation, we’re getting off the point. Little actions can have far-reaching consequences. For example, you spoil one manchild’s Christmas spirit, and then boom, we could have nuclear armageddon on our hands.”
“What?” you asked, taken aback.
“Yep,” he said, seriously, “you’d be amazed how even the most insignificant events can fuck the future beyond all recognition. And, that’s exactly what happened with your angry little diatribe to my brother.”
As you took a couple of seconds to absorb this, Five leaned towards you fractionally, his eyes regaining more of that lost authority.
You looked back at him, and the air grew heavy at the moment your eyes connected. You felt like a fish on a hook in the pull of his gaze, the sound of wind outside coming into greater prominence in that single, suspended moment.
There was another bolt of electricity, another raising of the hairs on the back of your neck. Though this time it wasn’t caused by you sensing Five’s power.
Well, not his superpower, at least.
Five glanced away and cleared his throat, and the spell was broken. Your mind became a fraction less cloudy and, in doing so, butted against a roadblock in his credibility.
“This is bullshit!” you cried, incredulously “Seriously, an armageddon?”
Five shrugged.
“I don’t know what to tell you. Actions have consequences, and they snowball. Time is chaos, and one wrong move can fuck up everything.”
You shook your head in denial.
“Do you really expect me to believe that not playing at some sickly, cloying, Christmas with your clown car of a family causes nuclear armageddon?”
Five sighed exasperatedly.
“Why is it so hard for you to just play nice?” he said, voice betraying annoyance for the first time, “why the hell have you got your panties in such a bunch around Christmas, anyway?”
And then his mouth twitched, and he let out a little chuckle.
“Though I admit that ‘clown car’ is a good description.”
You ignored this, as well as his prying questions and folded your arms defiantly.
“Fine,” he said, with a hint of smugness, “you don’t have to tell me.”
He reached down to the floor and fiddled with his briefcase, and then grabbed your elbow before you could protest.
“I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”
His hand tightened on your arm and, in a fizz of static, you were both gone, leaving no trace but the echo of your scream in the empty apartment.
Read Chapter Two >> I FEED OFF COMMENTS AND REBLOGS YUM YUM YUM
Marley's Ghost (left) and The Ghosts of Departed Usurers, or, The Phantoms. (right) Both by John Leech, 1843 in Dickens's A Christmas Carol, first edition (1843).
Dickens' A Christmas Carol full text available here.
Read it! It's a much better than this, and you can see how many lines I stole verbatim or clumsily referenced. If you haven't guessed, 'bullshit' is this Scrooge!Reader's 'bah humbug'.😊 Dividers used in this series by @bernardsbendystraws (garland) and @strangergraphics (lights)
Taglist: @nevbrooke-555, @fiannee, @abeeabee6969, @chalametabingbong, @lolawassad, @icantpickanamefromonefandom @thebearmage, @kaybreezy3000 (comment to be added or removed)
Megalist
Request info + rules
I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See request info + rules for request status and more.
#five hargreeves#five hargreeves fanfic#five hargreeves x you#five hargreeves imagine#number 5 imagine#number five imagine#five hargreeves x reader#five x you#luther hargreeves#my fanfic#tua fanfiction#umbrella academy fanfic#the umbrella academy five#the umbrella academy#the umbrella academy imagine#the umbrella academy smut#umbrella academy number five#umbrella academy five x reader#umbrella academy five x you#five hargreaves x you#five hargreaves x reader#number 5 x reader#number five x you#A Hargreeves Christmas Carol
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Reborn - Five Hargreeves x Dolores - Chapter One
Rated 18+/Mature
(Chapter One) (Chapter Two)
Chapter One - Awake "Do you trust me?"
"Viktor!? What are you doing!? Stop her!"
"Allison, don't do it!"
"Allison, wait!"
The entire universe goes dark as if someone turned off the power on an old TV - there's a beat, then two, then three.
She startles awake with a gasp, breath filling her lungs, looking up at the white ceiling tiles. She's laying on her back, trembling, body working overdrive as it struggles to grasp its new mechanisms.
Everything is too bright; everything is too loud. Her head hurts, her body hurts, and everything felt constricting and too loose at the same time. Before they can process what's happening, they turn onto her side and vomit.
It's mostly bile, for her stomach has nothing in it, never has. She pants roughly as spots dance before her vision, black threads falling into her face as they attempt to push themselves into a kneeling position.
A hand is on her back. She looks up to see a store worker - a kind-looking woman, pear-shaped, with gray hair and soft eyes.
"Are you alright, honey?" She asks, "Did you fall?"
The words sound like gibberish for a moment, her neurons firing faster than ever before. They blink in confusion for a moment before the words finally register.
"I…"
She turns and coughs as soon as she tries to speak. Her throat feels like sandpaper; she grips it softly as she coughs, and the woman rubs her back.
"Easy, now, take it slow. You must have passed out,"
The store worker helps her to her feet, and she has to grab the clothes rack next to them in order to stand properly. Her legs felt weak…unused.
How…how did she know…anything? She didn’t know what a store or clothes were; she knew nothing 30 seconds ago. But now she has all this shit in her head, thoughts pounding against her skull as she tries to make sense of it all.
"Oh honey," The worker helps balance her, "What happened?"
They don't answer her at first, looking behind her to see small platforms. Two nicely dressed mannequins occupied two platforms, but the third - the one in the middle - was empty.
Thoughts come streaming together in a whirlwind, causing her head to hurt. They look down at themselves: black and white polka-dot t-shirt, black pencil skirt, pale skin.
They look to the side to see a black beret and matching shoes near the base of the middle pedestal. Her breathing picks up. They grip her arms so hard they feel her fingers dig into her skin. Panic starts to rise within her, and the worker gently grabs her face to make eye contact.
"Sweetie, look at me," she instructs softly, "Can you hear me? What color is my jacket?"
Her eyes flicker down to the woman's vest, "B-blue," her voice is raspy as if she's never spoken before.
"Good, what color is your skirt?"
"B-black?"
"Very good," the woman smiles as they slowly start to calm down, "what color is the floor,"
"Gray,"
The woman helps them take deep breaths, and soon, her pounding heart slows.
"Now, what's your name, darling?" the woman asks again.
She blinks before answering, "Dolores,"
»»———— ★ ————««
Dolores sits in the department store's break room. She looks at her reflection in a little mirror. She guessed the women used to correct their makeup during their breaks.
Dark hair and green eyes looked back at her; her face was not too angular but not round. Her eyes lidded but not tried looking. Her cheeks were rosy, and her lips a soft pink. Dolores's dark hair stopped right at her shoulders, straight but with a slight wave.
It's not what either of them imagined.
Dolores breaks the intense eye contact with her reflection to look at the cup of a dark liquid in her hands.
Coffee…right… it's called coffee.
Dolores, curious, raises the drink to her lips and takes a sip, nearly spitting the bitter liquid out.
"Not a coffee fan?"
They looked up to see the woman before walking into the room. Dolores tried to smile. Her mind was slowly piercing itself together, memories fitting back into place. She didn't know how it happened, but she was alive. Plastic was replaced with skin, and a hollow torso was replaced with organs and blood.
"Not really," Dolores laughs softly, coughing a bit. Her vocal cords were still not used to working. Or rather, she was still getting used to having a voice.
"Well, it'll help either way," the woman sits in a chair across from Dolores, looking at them softly, "That was one nasty fall you took there,"
Dolores nods, "I remember…"
"What happened?"
Dolores takes a moment to answer, her newly born thoughts firing rapidly. What happened isn’t normal. She isn’t normal. She can’t tell the truth. She’d be accused of being insane and convicted. She had a lie. To hide. Protect herself.
"I was trying to see the hat the mannequin was wearing. I was too short, so I stepped up on the platform to see. I slipped," Dolores took another sip of the coffee, wincing at the taste again, "It was stupid, I'm sorry,"
The woman looks sympathetic, "Well, you're okay, and you learned not to do that again," she laughs softly. Dolores smiles.
"Is there anyone I can call for you?" the woman presses. "Family or friends?"
Dolores shakes her head, "No,"
"Spouse? Wife? Husband?"
A face flashes in her mind - well, two faces: an old man and a teenage boy. But Dolores knew it was the same person. It was--
"No," she says, "I'm…alone,"
The woman looks concerned, "Are you--"
"Thanks for the coffee," Dolores gently cuts her off, "And for helping me, but I better get going,"
The worker sputters as Dolores exits the break room, walking down the aisles to the door.
"Wait!"
Dolores turns back around to see the woman hobbling after her, "Are you sure you're okay, honey? I can call someone to help you,"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Dolores tries to smile, "Thank you again,"
The woman looks like she wants to protest, but Dolores turns away and slips out of the store.
»»———— ★ ————««
Dolores doesn't know how long she's been walking. Her feet were starting to hurt, but she felt like she couldn't stop. She's never been able to move, walk, or pose independently; she's always been guided by someone else to pose silently, frozen.
What was she going to do? She had some understanding of how the world worked; he would keep complaining about it to no end, and he sometimes brought her to different places, riding around on the back of a wagon…or was it a bike? Maybe both?
Should they go to him? Ask him to take them in?
Dolores shook the thought away. No. Hell no. They were not going back. Every time they were around him, they got shot at, thrown, used as leverage, or abandoned. Yeah, no fucking thanks.
So what are they to do? They need a job, a place to live, food and water.
Dolores noticed that it was getting dark out. In a slight panic, they looked around, seeing they were in the…darker parts of town.
The only establishment nearby was a club, and there was nowhere else to go. Dolores crossed the street and entered. As soon as the door closed, she felt eyes on her. Most of the patrons were men, with scarcely dressed women dancing on poles, serving drinks, and even sitting with them.
Dolores felt uncomfortable but knew she couldn't back out—not with how the men looked at her. Most were older, with graying hair and crooked teeth. Some were younger, middle-aged, and handsome, with evil glints in their eyes. Dolores felt like…she…they were looking at her as if she were a doll again. For a brief moment, Dolores thought she had turned back, only to snap back to herself when a voice behind her went.
“You going to walk in, missy, or keep blocking the door?”
Dolores paused; she also didn’t have anywhere else to go. So, holding her head up high, she walked to the bar at the end.
"Hey, sugar, what can I get ya?" The bartender asks, looking happy to serve someone other than a sleazy older man.
"Just water is fine," Dolores answered, and the woman nodded and walked away.
Dolores nurses her water for the next hour, ignoring the men talking and staring at her. She needs a job, but what sane person would hire a woman with no history - no birth certificate, no social security number, no driver's license, no fucking proof of identification.
This…was going to be a lot harder than they thought. Dolores sighs, racking her head. Many of her memories were fuzzy and incomplete, but a few were vivid and clear. On top of that, she had a lot of information flowing into her head like a river, as if someone had activated the default settings on a video game character.
She knows what a video game is…?
"Hey, princess!" A gruff voice calls out. Dolores looks up to see a nicely dressed older man in a crimson suit looking at her. He was big, with graying hair, flushed skin, a double chin, gold bracelets and necklaces, and a golden tooth. He beckons her over.
"Come sit next to me, darling. I wanna get a good look at you,"
Dolores' eyes narrow, and she sips her water without breaking eye contact or moving. The man's smile is full of false warmth.
"Oh, come on, princess. I won't do nothin' honest! Just wanna get a closer look at you,"
Dolores was about to refuse when she noticed the fear on the bartender's face. They made eye contact, and the woman gestured for her to go over. With a sigh, Dolores took her water and plopped down beside the man.
"There we go. That wasn't so hard, right?" The man leans closer to Dolores, who leans back a bit, "You're a pretty one, all right. What's your name?"
"Dolores," Dolores answers shortly, "Yours?"
"They call me Mr. Higgins. A pleasure to meet you, Miss. Dolores,"
Higgins takes Dolores' hand and kisses it. They want nothing more than to rip it away. They steel her expression and sip her water.
"So, Miss Dolores," Higgins speaks casually, either not noticing or ignoring her discomfort, "What does a pretty thing like you do?"
Dolores sees the trap before it's laid, but they also see an opportunity, "I don't have a job right now,"
Higgins has the decency to pretend to be shocked, "Oh? Well, that's a shame. How do you pay for your house?"
Dolores starts to wonder if this man has been following her, "I don't have one,"
Higgins gasps in fake horror, "You're homeless? Oh princess, that's not right," he retakes her hand, "Let me help you, darlin'. I can help you get back on your feet! Work for me. I'll let you stay in one of my backrooms," Higgins's smile is full of malice. Dolores can also see the sharp teeth, "Nobody like you should be wandering around alone, I'll take good care of you,"
Knowing this was a bad idea but desperately needing the money, Dolores struggled with her decision. She knew she was walking into a trap, but the allure of a job and a place to stay was too strong. She plastered a grateful smile on her face and nodded, "Thank you very much! I'd like that!"
As she agreed to Higgins's offer, she felt a surge of anger and frustration. She wanted nothing more than to punch that wicked smile off the man's face as it grew in triumph. But they knew they had to play along, for now. Dolores was determined to find a way out of her current situation, no matter what it took.
#the umbrella academy#the umbrella academy imagine#the umbrella academy smut#the umbrella academy five#umbrella academy number five#umbrella academy five x you#number five imagine#five hargreeves imagine#five hargreeves smut#number 5#number 5 imagine#number five smut#number 5 x you#fanfic#tua fanfic#five hargreeves#number five#five hargreaves#luther hargreeves#allison hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#ben hargreeves#viktor hargreeves#diego hargreeves#lila pitts#the umbrella academy season 4#umbrella academy#tua season 4#reginald hargreeves#the mun speaks
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Sanji + gender play (fem reader) for kinktober! Wanna ride him while he's all dolled up in lingerie with a vibrator in his ass 🤤
I didn't quite capture the letter of your request but I think I at least got the spirit. I wrote this in half an hour tipsy on mulled cider and I think I got possessed by the spirit of a novel writer from the 1860s
Kinktober 5: Gender Play, Sanji/Reader
Contains: Sanji's fucked up thoughts on gender, feminization, humiliation, lingerie, cross dressing, hand jobs
The kitchen door is locked, and most have gone to bed. But here on one of the chairs Sanji sits disheveled and full of shame and lust. You’ve removed his tie and jacket a long time ago, and tugged open his shirt and slacks to the soft sweet prize that’s been waiting for you all day beneath stiff wool.
It’s a set of lacy pink underwear, a matching bra and panty set that you bought with Sanji under the pretext of wearing it yourself. So consumed by thoughts of you in lacy bralettes and bikinis spinning through his head Sanji had neglected to notice they didn’t match your measurements (which he had of course memorized, as any good shopping companion should).
The long hours since you had connived him into the set this morning with soft kisses and softer touches had become tortuous, with Sanji hyper aware of the soft lace against his cock, and then comfortably forgetting, before swells of guilt at the thought that he was so little a man he could forget such a humiliation sweeping over him in turns throughout the day.
Finally, finally, you had come flouncing into his kitchen long after the dishes were done, eyes full of mischief to offer relief to him.
And that’s how he had ended up here, eyes tearing as you stood between his legs softly stroking his cock through delicate pink panties until he came and soaked them through as you called him, “Good girl~”
#black leg sanji#sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji#one piece smut#reader insert#x reader#vinsmoke sanji x reader#sanji smut#fic#mine#kinktober 2023#kinktober#also yes its the 21st and this is number 5 dont look at me#ive been having PROBLEMS#anyway the thing about Sanji smut is its about the SHAME 🤌#i want to embarrass him until hes no longer functional and shooting his brains out his dick#its the fundamental tension between i could fix him- i could make him worse#synthesized by I could have gay sex with him#hes pathetic and that must be visible in everything i write about him#also im trusting yall to not be obnoxious about the politics of crossdressing on this#my writing
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this poster makes me want to do and say unspeakable things. all i have to say about aaravos is that these thoughts are not in the bible
#rose rambling#LOORDDDDD#HAVE MERCY#hes literally scrumpdillyitious#aaravos will always be one of my number one pookies#aaravos and eris vanserra have been my top two for *checks date* 4-5 years and 2 years#anyways prepare for the incoming inevitable tdp brainrot#and sloppy vicious aaravos smut bc HRGRJRHRHRHEHEH#i will convert others to my cause#beCAUSE he's hot#:)#aaravos#the dragon prince#tdp#tdp aaravos#:) yeah
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Accidentally woke up (and got up, and got ready for work) a whole hour early, so now I’m chilling on my couch eating a muffin and trying to decide if I have the brain cells for writing yet.
#apparently I do not know my numbers yet#since I mixed up 5:15 and 6:15#anyways it’s too early for this shit but is it ever too early to write smut?#LT talks
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Okay then can we get the 3 headcanons for Jihyo/Tzuyu 🎮
Christmas music
bad weather
couch naps
(unexpected) filthy text messages
overstimulation (feat. praise)
#Forever my number 1 Twice ship#thank you!#Twice smut#Xbox anon#Jihyo smut#Tzuyu smut#5 associations
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Damn, I forgot what it was like posting in a popular Fandom
#its been over 5 years since my last SOC ff#ive been posting in pretty small fandoms recently#like i got multiple comments in an hour#but i also love the small fandoms#like on one hand they were quick but also like thats 4 commenrs to almost 150 kudos#i love kudos bc they help others find my fic#but i have small fics with a one comment to two kudos ratio#i also miss my mutuals messaging me to talk about it#small fandoms are great#its tricky to compare tho cuz i usually do multichapter#my only one shot was smut which changes things#idk its weird#small fandoms are more like grateful#like yayy content!!!!#wheras big ones just inhale#im in both like no hate to the fand obv#buts its weird to compare like NHIE and The Goldfinch to Shadow and Bone#the number 1 trending topic for days now#tho its not even that huge a fandom fic wise#like compared to raven cycle and foxjole court theres not a lot of content#still a obv difference compared to nhie and goldfinch tho
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i present to you, dick grayson: the whore
dick grayson is a masochist. not even strictly in a submissive role. he’ll pound your pussy until you pass out, sure- but he wants you showing him exactly how good his dick feels inside you. poor guy pops a boner the second you suck or bite his neck a little too hard. mark up his neck while he’s knuckles deep inside you and he’s bound to cum with you.
or instead of his fingers it’s his lips and tongue, nails digging into your soft thighs as you snatch and pull at his hair. the vibrations of his muffled groans into your pussy makes it ten times better, and you have no choice but to reward him with an even harsher tug.
he’s even caught in a delightful surprise when you slap him. nothing too hard or harmful, of course. you’re on top of him and he’s still talking up a storm, damn near having a conversation with himself about how slutty you are. greedy fuckin’ pussy, he’d groan, look at that, such a needy whore i’ve got. he’s got some nerve considering how he’s just as (and if not,) louder than you. you’d argue he’s a whore too.
“shut up, dick,” you whine, slapping his cheek lightly as your hips gain intensity. the moan he lets out is fucking filth, loud and wanton and followed up with a little laugh. “god, but i’m the whore?” you keen at him, hand trailing up his abdomen and around his throat to rest there. “never told you I wasn’t one too,” he grins at you, hips drilling into you from the mattress.
his favorite is probably when your nails leave deep lines in his skin, a testament to how far he drove you over the edge. almost like he wants you to claw at him, just to look at the damage he caused to himself later. “tryna maul me like a damn cougar, huh?” he teases against your neck, lifting a leg over his shoulder and telling you to take it out on him. he grunts and groans into your ear every time you go deeper, trying not to blow his load in the next minute. not like he can’t keep going or anything- but he’d hate to fill you up sooner than intended.
#✩ putting this on my shelf ✩#my dearest kazz <3#kazz ily#dick grayson#kazz my number 1 dick grayson writer#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson smut#dick stfu for 5 minutes
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A steaming hot and humorous deli Five story, and An Ode To All The Fives We’ve Loved Before.
Written by: @badkitty3000 and @kaybreezy3000
(Rated Mature for Sexually Explicit Content, 6976 words)
Note: All six reader inserts in this one were inspired by characters we wrote in our other stories about Five. But if you haven't read any of these stories, you can still easily enjoy this one. If you find that you want a little more of Five and any one of these lovelies, links will be provided at the end.
Heading across the subway platform towards the deli, Five heard the shrill squeal of a train coming into the station. Thinking it was going to be another version of himself showing up, he slowed his step, letting out a tired sigh. “Here we go again.”
Even before the train was fully stopped, he realized this wasn’t going to be one of his normally depressing encounters. There were six females inside one of the cars, all of them anxiously looking back at him standing under the warmth of the delicatessen's incandescent lights.
He was dumbstruck. There had never been anyone else besides himself on a train before.
His breath caught as the doors began to slide open.
“No way…” he gasped, looking at the girl in front who had a baseball bat slung over her shoulders, her body poised for a fight.
“Five!” she shrieked as she pushed the doors open, kicking one of them aside faster with the heel of one of her checkered patterned boots. Dashing towards him, her wooden bat fell to the ground with a resounding thunk as she threw herself into his waiting arms.
Just then, a loud bark echoed through the subway. Bursting out from between the other girls’ legs, a golden-haired dog bee-lined it for the door of the deli, just as another stunned Five threw it open. A fraction of a second later, that Five was stumbling backwards, getting knocked down by the wild beast. “I missed you too, buddy,” he laughed through his tears as his furry friend affectionately slobbered him.
Next to them, pink and blue pigtails swayed as the first Five lifted the girl in his arms, kissing her anywhere he could plant his lips. Loving it, her smile got bigger and bigger the more frantic he got, and she started giggling even more about it when she looked down at the pair on the ground. “I guess it was easy enough for Mr. Pennycrumb to figure out which one of you was his master. Just look at him…he’s so happy he and his daddy finally get to go home.”
“Home?” the deli’s Greeter Five questioned, sounding heartbreakingly confused as the rest of the girls on the train came past, worriedly making their way towards the welcoming lights of the restaurant, all of them hoping their Fives were there too.
Inside, Five was behind the counter, doing his usual inventory of ingredients for his famous pastrami sandwich when he looked up to see the most beautiful sight he’d seen in a very long time. He could hardly believe his eyes and it took him a few seconds to realize she was real.
Skidding around the corner from the kitchen while trying to hide the tears in his eyes, he grabbed his wife around her waist, reeling her in. With hands on each side of her face, he kissed her so desperately that he forgot to breathe. Finally, he pulled away, smiling lovingly as she started to cry.
“I can’t believe it’s really you. I’ve missed you so much, my love,” he choked out, stroking her cheek with his hand. “What are you doing here? When I ended up here, I thought I’d lost you and our entire world because our timeline was destroyed.”
“I missed you, too,” she breathlessly replied. “Things were a little all over the place with the timeline problem thing, but it’s okay now. We’re here to bring you home. I didn’t know there was an entire restaurant filled with you when I set out, but the girls and I ended up on the train together and it quickly became clear we were all in the same boat, and all of you were too. As crazy as all that is, when we realized where you all ended up, it was still a little surprising to say the least.”
“How did you even find this place? The odds of coming across it are astronomical.”
His wife rolled her eyes. “Really, Five? There’s like twenty of you here and not one of you can read a goddamn map? Together, the girls and I figured it out in about fifteen minutes.”
“Oh…” Five muttered.
She smiled and kissed his pouty face, pushing his dark hair off his forehead. “Well, it’s a good thing for you, and all these other boys, that before you got stuck here, you stole the hearts of the smartest, most badass women around because we’re here to save all your asses.” She looked around at all the Fives that looked like they were either about to have a breakdown or were in the middle of one. “And just in the knick of time, it seems,” she added.
While being devoured by the Five that had been previously pouring coffee, his girlfriend stopped him mid-kiss to say, “Hold on… you guys are stuck here because you don’t know how to read a map?”
“We know how to read maps,” her Five scoffed back. “We just don’t know how to read this particular map.”
With his head down as he rounded the corner from the kitchen, another Five came in carrying a bin of clean dishes. Irritated that nobody was helping him he said, “You don’t know your ass from a hole in the ground, Waiter Five, and hey Brisket, you may be a worthless genius like the rest of us, but you’re letting the sandwiches burn!”
“I don’t give a fuck about the sandwiches, you moron,” Brisket Five snapped back.
Brisket’s wife quirked a brow. “Brisket?” she questioned, letting his strange nickname roll off her tongue with seductive playfulness, only then just realizing her husband was wearing a chef’s apron.
“Are you surprised? You know I’m the king of the kitchen,” he said, giving her a cocky smirk.
Hearing the allure of the feminine voice questioning Brisket Five, the distracted bus-boy finally looked up, his eyes as wide as saucers.
“HOLY SHIT!” he gasped as the tub of plates in his hands hit the floor. Moving almost as fast as if he’d blinked, he leapt over the booth between him and the luminously pale girl that was grinning at him with two shiny tips of sharp white studding into her lower lip.
“Hey there, you little horny devil,” the cheeky looking vampire girl snickered as he slid up to her, his boyish mess of dark hair all over the place as his entire body shook like a leaf with excitement. “Five, sweetie, there’s so many of you here…”
Looking over at the lonely looking Five in the corner booth with his mannequin, the vampire’s fang descended a little more.
“Awww,” she cooed as she looked back at her own Five. “He’s so cute. He’s just like you were. Can I maybe have a little nibble on him, honey?”
“Hell no. I am the only abomination you get to suck on,” Bus-Boy Five dreamily replied, his soft green eyes luring her right back.
Interrupting their reunions, and their conversation about the map, the bathroom door flung open, and another Five carrying a mop came out, immediately directing his shock at the girl the Waiter Five was once again doing his best to suffocate with kisses. “Hey!” he yelled. “Are you that chick who used to fuck Klaus?
Tossing his mop in the supply closet, the Janitor Five moved in closer, plopping his butt down on the tabletop next to a Five who was sitting there, contemplatively shuffling a deck of cards as he watched the bizarre scene unfolding.
At the mention of Klaus, Waiter Five gave his girl one more peck, then a sly grin as he said, “Those guys don’t know the whole story. All they need to know is that the Hargreeves with the best dick won. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
The girl that ironically used to own a coffee house shook her head at her now-waiter boyfriend as she stretched up, planting a big kiss on his lips. “You could say that. Or, more accurately, I won. I’ve been missing a lot of things about you, including your dick,” she teased while pulling him by the belt loops until their hips were flush.
A few feet away, a shapely woman with jet-black hair slid into a booth. The bells on her red headband rung cheerfully as her bottom bounced on the vinyl seat. The familiar sound made the slumped down man that was sitting there lift his head.
“Oh, Five…what did you do?” she soothed as she snuggled up next to him while placing a gentle hand on his cheek.
He looked over, eyeing her up and down with a foggy expression before the light suddenly went on. His face immediately relaxed with relief. “Oh my god…it’s you! How are you here? Fuck. Did I die and go to heaven?”
She shook her head, the same chipper smile on her face, just like always. Leaning in to give him a tender kiss, Drunk Five’s angelic girlfriend placed a warm hand on his thigh. “I will explain all of that later. Right now I think we need to get you sobered up.”
Her Five nodded slowly, his eyes becoming misty. “I’m sorry, I went a little crazy with the booze again,” he admitted, gesturing to the bottle on the table. “I’ve been a mess since I lost you.” His gaze drifted downward to her low-cut top and the perfect tits that were spilling out. “Damn, I missed you.”
Leaning in, his lips tickling the shell of his girlfriend’s ear, Waiter Five whispered, “I’m not sure how fucked-up Drunk Five got a nice girl like that.”
Looping her arms around his waist she smiled. “Because she’s an actual angel,” she replied. “Like from heaven. They had a real life Christmas Carol situation and that’s what helped him finally get his shit together.”
“Huh,” Waiter Five hummed before he started kissing her again, already not caring about the other alcoholic version of him’s issues.
As Greeter Five came inside, joining the group, one of the Fives nearest the door swooped in, taking the hand of the girl next to him, gently kissing it.
Instantly overwhelmed by the unexpected gesture, as well as the sight of all the other Fives, she turned to her Five, mouth agape. “Wow… I thought you had some kinky things going on inside your brain, but compared to you…” She started to crack-up. “He was just thinking about eating pastrami off my ass!”
Looking beyond flustered by her calling him out, the other Five quickly backed away, stammering, “Wh-what is she, a mind reader?”
Positioning himself in front of her, Greeter Five’s already menacing expression turned even more threatening. “Yeah, dumbass, she is and she can alter your emotions, so I’d watch out if I were you or you might find yourself falling in love with a jar of sauerkraut. And you won't be eating pastrami or anything else off her ass as long as I’m here, so fuck off unless you’d like an acid burned dick and that spatula over there shoved up your ass.”
“You know that’s not how my powers work,” the petite blonde corrected as her hands slid around the Greeter Five’s trim waist. Clearly already aware of that, and enjoying her magical touch way too much, his grin grew and he started to lower his mouth to hers again.
Seeing that he was out of his element, and not about to win this one, the food fetish Five bolted out the door, prompting Janitor Five to stroll over, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. “Since you are the biggest nut job in here, it makes sense you’d be dating a sexy Harley Quinn look alike,” he said, distracting the couple.
“I mean no offense, sweetheart,” Janitor Five continued while suggestively wiggling his eyebrows at Greeter Five’s girl.
She smiled.
“I think you’re hot,” he added as his cool green eyes sparkled triumphantly. “Just so you know, I am way less of a headcase than him, and I am not at all scared of letting you play around inside my head, or my pants.”
“Fuck you!” Greeter Five growled.“Keep your grimy toilet cleaning hands off of her, shithead! She’s my wife!”
“Woah, settle down there, ‘Mr. I started The Commission But Got Downgraded To The Doorman At A Deli.’ I am just trying to point out that I am a much lesser dipshit than you, and let the lady here know that you are not her only option when it comes to better Fives.”
“For fucks sake! We all know that I am the best Five in here!” Greeter Five loudly yelled back, as he lunged at him.
Catching her husband by the coat tails, the comic book character look alike’s fingers brushed against his lower back. The fight almost instantly forgotten, Greeter Five turned and lowered his forehead to hers, and within seconds, she had his mind and body coming back down to a much less murderous state of arousal, but it was already too late. That arrogant outburst started all the other Fives bickering and glaring at each other, sizing each other up even though they were all the exact same size.
No longer involved in the hostilities because he was caught in his wife’s euphoric spell, Greeter Five scooped her up, pinning her against the window next to the entryway.
“I wish I could kill all these pathetic bastards,” he breathed as he nuzzled his face against the crook of her neck.
“No you don’t. You’re a good man, Five,” she corrected.
Happily mind fucked and once again paying no attention to anything else other than the piece of ass he had in his hands, Greeter Five crushed his lips against his wife’s, inadvertently sliding her back along the window glass until they rammed into another three-peice suit wearing Five that had been standing near the door since his girlfriend had come in and claimed him.
That Five had been basking in the pleasure of having his shaggy hair played with while the woman in front of him teased her hands down the front of his pants. Not happy with the Greeter Five for interrupting them, he angrily moved away from him, barking, “Get a room, asshole!”
Greeter Five snickered. “Why?” he questioned through the fringe of his hair as he grinned at the other Five. “I don’t care if you fuckers watch.”
Ready to own that, he shamelessly started rutting the prominent bulge in his pants into his giggling telepath.
Seeing and hearing all this madness, Brisket Five’s wife started to get a wild gleam in her eye as a million kinky thoughts about the vast number of identical, sexy men in the room filled her with naughty ideas.
Not nearly as fazed by all the bullshit happening around him, Brisket Five took her chin in his hand, guiding her face back to his until she was looking up at his piercing green eyes that could read her like an open book. With a subtle shake of his head, he raised an eyebrow. “I don’t fucking think so, darling,” he said, his voice low with warning.
She batted her lashes at him innocently. “What are you going to do about it, Daddy?”
At the mention of his dirty, yet fitting nickname, the other women perked up, dodging their own Five’s kisses and disappointed faces as they shared amused glances with one another.
Still getting publicly dry humped, only now over on the table edge in front of a Five that was still trying to sit there and do his crossword, Greeter Five’s girl chirped, “That’s amazing! So it’s not just my Five that likes the daddy thing!”
None of the Fives needed to say it. Their intense glares directed at each other said it loud and clear for all of them.
I’M THE ONLY DADDY HERE!
“That’s it. We’re going to settle who is the ruler of this deli once and for all!” Greeter announced, right before sliding his girl’s booty shorts towards him so he could push her backside down on the table.
“Sounds like you want to put your money where your mouth is,” taunted Cards Five as he continued to nonchalantly shuffle through his deck.
“Fuck yeah, I am,” the Greeter confirmed, ripping the red and blue shorts down his woman’s legs as he licked his lips and lowered like he was about to dive face first into her pussy-which he was.
“Oh, you are on! Get ready to lose, assholes,” yelled Waiter Five as he picked his girl up with her legs wrapping around his waist.
As there were more grumbles and boastful claims coming from the Fives, the girls glanced around at the roomful of horny, angry men they had on their hands. Brisket Five’s and Greeter Five’s wives took one look at each other and knew exactly what the other was thinking.
“Alright, ladies,” Brisket’s wife called out. “We can’t bring these horny old bastards home in the state they’re in. I think we should let them have their fun with us and then we can get out of here safely. Sound good?”
The women all nodded in agreement and just as fast they started to get pawed at even more aggressively.
Having witnessed all of this, the most aloof looking Five who had been sitting in the corner booth, lifted his glass, clinking it with the one sitting in front of his beloved mannequin. “I’m sorry, darling, you might want to shut your eyes.”
Openingly admiring the butt of the girl with the other Five that had been over by the door, Janitor Five asked, “How’d you get so lucky to hit an ass like that?”
Smirking, the Five in question leaned up against the wall next to the jukebox while pulling his lady away from the Janitor. “It’s a long story but it started when I became a pervert that was obsessed with spying on her while I jerked off. Then there was an accidental parking lot abduction incident, and after that, it just sort of happened.”
“You mean, first you tied me up, then I tied you up and set you straight,” she corrected, tugging his tie, which earned her a quiet whimper.
“Oh, so you're into perverted creeps?” Janitor Five said, trying to get a rise out of her Five but he got nothing out of either of them other than more of her hands going down her perverted boyfriend’s pants.
Seeing again that he was going to be left high and dry, the Janitor Five moved on, selecting a perfect song from the jukebox next to them for the fuck-fest that was about to commence. He then turned to Drunk Five who was still in his booth and sneered. “You might as well count yourself out, dickhead. You won't even be able to get it up.”
With an indignant snort, Drunk Five pulled his cheery angel onto his lap, running his hands up and down her bare thighs as she ground down on his rapidly hardening crotch.
“What do you think, honey?” he rasped. “Is he right?”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, actually,” she laughed, leaning in for a deep kiss.
Cards Five, not at all interested in the sex part of all this, saw his opportunity elsewhere. He turned to the Janitor Five giving him a slanted smile.
“We’re going to make a killing,” he said before hopping up on one of the unoccupied tables with the deli already becoming rowdier from all the couples in various compromising positions and locations around him.
“Listen up, shit heads! Here’s the rules!” Cards Five called out. “The Five who can get their lady off the most times in five minutes wins and will be declared the official BEST FIVE! And…no helping your guys by touching yourselves ladies, or you’re out.”
“Awww,” Janitor Five huffed.
Ignoring his disappointment, Cards Five gestured for him to start collecting the bets, then he pulled his sleeve up and set his stopwatch.
Holding his arm out to show the other Fives, he received the desired nods of approval from all.
Not needing any more encouragement to begin, as soon as Cards Five yelled out ‘go’, every Five who had the option started getting to work, determined to win his very important title.
Amid a flurry of coat jackets being hurriedly shrugged off and ties being thrown through the air, their perfect song selection cued up.
As the first few staccato notes of “Eye of the Tiger” filled the room, there was a chorus of enthusiastic cheers from the over-sexed men.
The competition had officially begun.
With his vampire girlfriend at his side, Bus-Boy Five took off with her towards the bathroom, entering the small tiled room on the heels of the Pervert Five and his pretty dominator. Shoving him into the wall, the small but assertive female directed her man to drop his pants. Already looking so excited that he might explode, he didn’t argue. His pants fell around his ankles, the metal of his belt clanking against the floor as she yanked his underwear down, letting his length spring free.
With her shirt getting ripped open and the tiny pearl buttons tinkering across the counter, the vampire sank her fangs into her Five, moaning as he hungrily nipped his teeth across her porcelain neck.
Catching the door before it swung closed on them, Janitor Five propped it open, yelling, “There’s no room for modesty here, boys! You better give us a good show in there!”
Over in their booth, doing just that, Drunk Five was already getting the full religious experience with his personal angel.
Straddling his lap, she quickly unbuckled his pants and shoved her hand inside, grabbing hold of his hardened cock. “Even though you fell off the wagon, you know I’ll always let you plow my field,” the angel quipped with a smile.
He pulled her in for a rough kiss, a hand on the back of her neck as she pumped her fist. “Enough of your bad jokes, sweetheart, right now I need you to ride my dick,” he murmured before groaning loudly, “Let’s show these assholes what we can do.”
“You got it, baby,” she purred next to his ear as she pushed her panties aside and sunk herself onto his waiting dick.
With her tits bouncing in front of his face, and her hot sleeve moving fast over his cock, Drunk Five was in a Heaven made just for him. Clutching his shoulders, the angel threw her head back as his heels dug into the floor and he pounded up into her, her broken cries proving he was still a contender.
Simultaneously, on the other side of the deli, Brisket Five was not-so-gently squeezing his wife’s tight, round ass as he aggressively sucked at her neck.
“Five,” she breathed out desperately as she clawed at the back of his shirt after having flung his chef’s apron on the floor. She took a quick peek over his shoulder, scouting the room. “I think we’re out of fuckable places.”
Pulling back with a mischievous grin that always lit a fire in his wife’s pants, Five shook his head. “Not necessarily.”
She let out a short laugh as she worked as fast as she could to get his shirt unbuttoned and pushed off his arms. Running her hands down his firm, bare chest she looked up at him. “You’re going to fuck me in a closet, aren’t you?”
As Brisket Five quickly hurried his wife along to his secret sex spot, Waiter Five brushed past, heading in the same direction.
“I’m calling the kitchen, dipshit, so don’t even bother,” he snarled at Brisket Five.
When he didn’t get the expected spiteful reply in response, Waiter Five stopped and turned. The chef version of himself was not actually trying to bone his woman in the kitchen. Instead, he was continuing in the direction of the supply closet.
“Where the fuck are you going? Scared your girl might see what she’s missing out on?” Waiter jeered, even as his girlfriend was pulling her legs tighter around his waist, rubbing against his hard crotch. His hands gripped her ass harder as he pushed her against the doorway of the kitchen, jerking his hips against her until she let out a beautifully needy moan.
“Think again, dumbshit,” Brisket barked back before unceremoniously shoving his wife into the closet and slamming the door behind him.
“That guy is a total whack-job,” Waiter Five said to his girl before continuing inside, perching her on the food-prep counter.
“How about you focus less on him and more on fucking me,” she suggested, snaking her hand down the front of his pants as she rubbed the large package that was tenting there.
With a quiet grunt, he let his eyes fall shut, his expression one of total bliss as he grinned back at her. “Good idea.”
As she hastily began opening his fly, Five worked on yanking her pants down. Knowing his dirty-minded coffee girl inside and out, he shoved his hand between her legs, letting his long fingers work their magic.
“Daddy knows what you like, doesn’t he, sweetheart?” he seductively taunted.
At the first “Ffff-uuu…yesss” that she whimpered, he knew he had her right where he wanted, and he continued to finger her while she rocked her hips into his hand and pulled at the front of his shirt.
In the closet, Brisket’s wife was pushed roughly against a wall as he flattened her body, attacking her with bruising kisses. With his hands gripping her wrists, he shoved her arms over her head, pinning them to the wall as Janitor Five’s mop went clattering to the floor.
“Panties off. Now!” Five ordered in a harsh but quiet tone, knowing for a fact that this was a sure fire way to get her dripping wet.
Freeing her wrists, she did exactly what he said, dropping her shorts and underwear and kicking them off somewhere in the dim light of the closet. With the sound of his wife’s harsh breathing riling him up even more, Five anxiously unbuckled his pants and dropped them to the floor.
Lifting one of her legs, holding it up against his hip, he pressed his rock-hard cock between her legs, not entering her as his shaft rubbed against her wet slit.
As he continued to rut into her, faster and harder but not actually fucking her, he felt the satisfying shudder of her body against his. “That’s one, but I think we can do better than that, don’t you think, angel?” he teased.
Also about to witness a second orgasm, sitting over at his booth with Greeter Five licking and lapping his wife’s clit as his fingers squelched in and out of her quivering cunt, Crossword Five lowered a hand under the table, discreetly palming the tightly stretched fabric covering his crotch.
With his fingers thrusting and wife gasping, her body bucking on the table in front of them, Greeter Five looked up, his face proudly shining as he glanced at their booth buddy. “Might as well whip it out and go for it, you dirty bastard. She likes to watch.”
At the sound and sight of Crossword Five’s fly zipping down, the woman on the table between the two shameless men cried out, “Oh, Fivvvvve. Fucck, yes! I love you!”
“That’s right, say it louder, beautiful. Let these assholes get a taste of what they are missing!” her husband growled, right before grinding his face between her legs again.
In the corner booth, not at all impressed, the Five sitting with Dolores picked up his empty margarita, eyeing it like it had personally offended him. “I’m not like that, am I?” he questioned, to which the mannequin next to him held her Mona Lisa smile, but only until he looked over and cutely smirked. “Oh. You’re right. I am like that,” Five chuckled, clearly stewed.
In the bathroom two minutes earlier, the Pervert Five’s head fell back with a bang against the wall the moment his girlfriend’s lips began to circle around the dripping tip of his waiting erection.
A few feet away, flipping around his vampire, Bus-Boy Five was about to do some sucking of a totally different kind as he lined himself up to the smooth white ass waiting for him to destroy it. Fisting the length of the vamp’s hair as the tip of his cock prodded the coolness of her slippery folds, his words came out ominously dark. “You’re all I’ll ever want. This time I want forever.”
“Then take it,” his vampire moaned as Five’s lips began to move along the exposed side of her milky throat. Looking like a man whose soul needed saving, using a hand to guide the thickened head of his cock where he needed it, penetrating all her senses at once, his blunted teeth slowly began to sink in.
A guttural moan reverberated from Five’s chest as his mouth filled with the salvation of her bittersweet taste.
Mouth agape, her fingers clenching the edge of the countertop as Five’s tongue moved over her broken skin, the vampire’s body, shaking with lust, jerked back, forcing him to bottom out.
“So-so fucking tight,” he deliriously groaned, just before thrusting his dick inside her again with much more supernatural vigor.
Looking up as he fucked, his chocolate locks hanging in his eyes and his lip still bleeding from one of her love bites, Five grinned at his reflection in the mirror, the wicked gleam in his eyes matching the sinful glow in hers lovinginly looking back at him.
Not to be out done by the debauchery happening next to them, the other Five helplessly gasped a string of profanities as he clenched his hand on the back of his girlfriend’s head so he could better slam his dick down her throat.
Interrupting the gagging and sniffling, whines and animalistic grunts and growls streaming out of the bathroom, pointing at the violent blow job in progress, Janitor Five barked out, “Disqualified! You’re supposed to be getting her off, not the other way around, you selfish dumbass!”
Coming fully undone, unloading in her mouth with his hips twitching even more spastically with each new wave of ecstasy, dumbass Five hissed and moaned, “Fuuu-aaaahh- This feels so ff- Mmfff- I don’t fff-ucking care.”
As Waiter Five’s girlfriend was coming down from her finger-fuck climax in the kitchen, he was already preparing for the next round. Stroking his leaking cock, he positioned his swollen tip at her soaking wet opening. As he slammed into her, her head fell back, knocking against the metal pots and pans that were hanging behind them. Each clatter of metal was accompanied by a loud moan as Waiter Five used all of his strength to give his girl the fuck of her life.
Alerted by all the noise, Janitor Five poked his head through the kitchen’s service window. “Hey, you better not drip any jizz on that floor, I just mopped it.”
Not slowing down for even a second while he continued to rail his girl as hard as possible, Waiter Five glanced over his shoulder at the dickhead in the doorway. “Says the guy that cums in the coleslaw.”
Smiling and mouthing ‘True’ to the girl being nailed where their food was prepared, Janitor Five witnessed a second Waiter-delivered orgasm. It was followed a few seconds later by a loud groan and some cursing as his counterpart came hard inside of her, the clanging of the pots and pans slowly quieting as his body stilled.
Back in the closet, Brisket Five’s wife clung to the rattling supply shelves as his hips slapped against her ass and his dick slammed inside her from behind. Sweating and out of breath, expertly maneuvering his fingers on her clit, she started coming hard.
“Fuck, Fiiive!!” she screamed as she bucked her ass backward and rolls of toilet paper rained down on them.
“That’s two,” he panted heavily as she tried to regain her composure enough to stand on her wobbly legs. “One more, darling?”
Grinning widely, pulling her flush with his chest, his cock still-hard, his wife nodded and smiled knowingly; just another confirmation that the two were meant for each other.
As he went in for a kiss, a hand tangled in her hair, she stumbled forward, causing Five to stagger backward into the door. The two came flying out of the supply closet with a giant crash as they fell into a mostly-naked heap onto the floor.
There was a very brief pause as everyone else in the deli looked in their direction, but they were quickly ignored as the other Fives got back down to business.
“One minute left, boys…let’s wrap it up!” yelled Cards Five.
Determined not to lose, Brisket Five pushed his wife onto her back and crawled on top, not giving a shit that they were laid out for the entire deli to see. Thrusting his cock back into her still-wet cunt, Five let out a long groan. Going at it hard as he held himself up on his forearms, he rammed into her at just the right angle. From there, his wife’s third orgasm came quickly, allowing him to fill her up with an impressive stream of cum.
Standing near the kitchen service window, Janitor Five slammed his palm down onto the order-up bell to signal the latest win. “Another one for Brisket!” he yelled. “That’s three!”
As Brisket Five and his wife laid on their backs, chests heaving, he grabbed a nearby discarded suit coat and threw it over her bottom half. With satisfied smiles, they lazily high-fived one another on a job well done.
Realizing he needed to do something fast, Greeter Five worked his hips overtime as his wife’s legs draped around the narrow of his waistcoat.
“Come on, come on, come on!” Janitor Five chanted along with him as he dangled over the booth, watching their Greeter going at it, his dick working like a piston engine.
In a frenzy, beating his meat hard, Crossword Five let out a broken moan.
Only taking his eyes off his prize long enough to see that Cards Five was counting down the final seconds on his fingers, Greeter Five frantically gasped, “Touch him, NOW!”
As the telepath’s hand fell into Crossword Five’s free hand, his face pinched in ecstasy and spatters of cum flung from his rapidly pumping fist, landing all over the tabletop.
To the backdrop of Janitor Five loudly singing, ‘Rising up to the challenge of our rivals,’ Greeter Five’s wife’s eyes began to roll back in her head and her body began to tighten and turn to mush all over again.
Looking like a madman, Greeter Five kept at it, thrusting his throbbing cock in and out of her trembling hole as he filled her with load after load of pent up seed.
“Yes! We got this in the bag!” Janitor Five exclaimed, obnoxiously clapping his hands together over the awe inspiring spectacle of the three exhibitionists simultaneously climaxing.
Turning back and forth between the two Fives who appeared to be at a tie, Cards Five held up his watch for his betting buddies to see. “It’s…TIME!” he shouted.
Either not hearing that it was over, or simply not caring, Bus-Boy Five and his vampire girlfriend burst out of the bathroom with him carrying her like she was his front backpack. Unnaturally floating past everyone, he kept at it, impaling her, his phantomlike showmanship making it abundantly clear he wasn’t going to stop and he didn’t give a damn who won the fuck competition.
Just then, the bell on the door chimed as Old Five walked in wearing his dapper gray suit and hat. “Jesus Christ! What the hell is going on in here!” he gasped in horror as the undead couple disappeared through the doorway behind him.
Kissing his wife languidly as his softening dick wetly slipped out of her, Greeter Five began to laugh. “Busted, beautiful. I saw that,” he said, taunting her as she dizzily eyed-up the older gentleman. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, still treasuring her with gentle brushes of his lips against her flushed cheeks.
“What?” she said as she grinned and pulled his pants around him, re-fastening his belt. “You give an amazing mustache ride. You can’t blame a girl for wanting to feel the tickle of your sexy old man whiskers for old time’s sake.”
The line between Greeter Five’s brows deepened with distaste as Old Five looked his half naked wife up and down, his mostly whitened brows going all the way to his hairline because he was so floored by what she just said.
Chuckling at Greeter Five’s sour expression, Janitor Five started to clear some of the scattered dishes on their table since their bus-boy was currently preoccupied doing vampire things. “Are you going to spank her for saying that, or do you want me to since you look a little spent?” he conversationally offered.
“No thank you. I’ll take care of it later,” Greeter Five politely chuckled as his wife pinched his butt.
As the rest of the Fives and their girls were still lounging around in various states of droopy eyed post coital bliss, twirling his wife’s panties on his index finger, Greeter Five smiled smugly. “As I said before all of this, I am, and always was, the winner here.”
Not having that, Brisket Five, helping his wife up off the floor, chimed in, “No. It’s a tie. Everyone heard my girl screaming for me at least three times. Twice in the closet and the last just now.”
Tensions rising again, arguing about how to divide the money, the betting Five’s started in on each other.
“Well, this has been interesting,” Old Five grumbled from where he was sitting in one of the back booths, his hat resting next to him as he sipped his coffee. “I can’t believe what a moron I used to be.”
Before picking up his book, the old man’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he gave Greeter Five’s wife a flirty wink. Getting one back, he reached over, dropping a quarter in the jukebox.
Missing the enamored look on his wife’s face this time since his focus was on his nemesis, Greeter Five said, “Whatever. See you later, loser.”
Brisket Five’s smarmy grin deepened. “You only hit three because you are a cheater, shit head.”
About to say something else ridiculous to the other him, a finger pressed against Greeter Five’s lips, shushing him. Her mind willing him to shut his trap, the seemingly harmless blonde began softly singing along with the jukebox and his eyes instantly glossed over.
Let ‘em say we're crazy, I don’t care about that…Put your hand in my hand baby, don’t ever look back…
“What a pussy,” Brisket Five laughed at the other him’s inability to see that he’d been silenced.
Sighing, his wife’s head moved back and forth in reprimand.
“What?” he questioned, as if he didn't already know.
Grinning like an idiot as the song that had so much meaning to him played, Greeter Five, having forgotten what he was going on about, allowed his clever wife to tow him towards the door like a puppy on a leash. Following their lead, the Five who still owed his girlfriend for her world-class BJ, and a much more sober Five and his angel, happily made their way out with Waiter Five and his coffee girl not far behind. Brisket and his wife brought up the rear, his arm draped over her shoulder.
As all of the couples made their way out of the deli, every one of the Fives was looking forward to finally getting back to the places where they had first learned what it meant to be truly loved.
Seeing that their only reliable cook was now leaving them, Janitor Five threw his hands in the air as he yelled out, “Hey, Brisket, what the fuck are we supposed to eat now?”
Turning around and seeing his signature apron lying on the floor, Brisket Five scooped it up. With a crooked grin, he flipped his hair out of his eyes and tossed it at the deli’s biggest asshole. “Why not try eating a dick?”
After the doors of the train closed, and the more fortunate Fives were on their way, Janitor looked over at Cards Five and shrugged as if considering that.
Turning to go back inside as he laughed, then began belting out, “AND…WE can build this dream TOGETHER, standing strong forever, NOTHINGS GONNA STOP US NOW! AND if this-”
As they heard the sound of another train coming into the station, he stopped.
With that unexpected surprise, not long later, all of the remaining Fives finally found their happiness, too.
Thank you all for reading this, and for all your support through our many, many crazy Five stories. ❤️
To read Kitty's origin stories for Brisket Five, Waiter Five, and Drunk Five either visit this master list or hit the A03 links below.
(Brisket) Halo Series
(Waiter Five) 'Love In The Time of Cholera and Coffee
(Drunk Five) It's a Wonderful Life, Five Hargreeves
To read Breezy's origin stories for Greeter Five, Vampy Five, and Pervert Five either hit my master list or the A03 links below:
(Greeter Five) Paramore (The Umbrella Academy) 3-part series
(Vampy Five) 'The Devil Within'
(Pervert Five) 'Bad Things'
#number five#brisket five#five hargreeves smut#deli Five#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves#Max's Delicatessen#number 5#five hargreeves fanfic#five hargreeves x you#tua s4#tua season 4#number five smut#number five fanfiction#number five x reader#the umbrella academy five#number five x you#kaybreezy-on-a03#badkittywrites#number five imagine
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Announcing A Christmas Carol adaptation starring Five Hargreeves Five / GN or F reader: Rated ?
All was quiet and still but for the wilting tinsel shifting minutely in the tiny draft at the window frames. The bar was deserted - as dead as a doornail, you might say. You're a Christmas-hating bar owner with the world's most annoying regular - the sort of idiot that goes around with a 'Merry Christmas' and a goofy smile on his lips. In your opinion, Luther should be roasted with his own turkey and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. But when you're visited by strange apparition on Christmas Eve, you realize that your Grinch-like ways have more of an effect than you could have ever anticipated. And who better to teach you the error of your ways than Luther's brother, who holds the power of Christmases Past, Present and Yet to Come in the palm of his hand.
Chapter One now posted! >
Yes. I'm ripping off Dickens, and shamelessly, I might add. And as Dickens wrote serially, I may as well rip that off too. Usually I write my entire fics before I post them, so this will be a challenge for me, but I vow to get the whole thing (4-5 chapters) done before Christmas.
I'll aim to update once or twice per week: on Tuesdays, Fridays, or maybe both!
Will this be a G-rated family friendly romance or a filthy smut-filled christmas romp? I genuinely don't know! Will the main character remain gender neutral, or won't they? I hope you know, because I sure as fuck don't.
Join me in this hare-brained scheme, watch as I flounder trying to get this motherfucker written in time for Christmas, look on in confusion as I jam Luther into the role of both Scrooge's nephew and Tiny Tim, and wince in pain as I shit on the work of one of the most beloved authors and social commentators of all time!
God Bless us. Every one.
#five hargreeves#five hargreeves fanfic#five hargreeves x you#five hargreeves imagine#number 5 imagine#five hargreeves smut#maybe smut.#umbrella academy x reader#number five imagine#five hargreeves x reader#five x you#luther hargreeves#my fanfic#tua fanfiction#umbrella academy fanfic#the umbrella academy five#Sorry Charles#You didn't deserve this bro
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Reborn - Five Hargreeves x Dolores - Chapter Two
Rated 18+/Mature.
TW: Coercion, mention of sex, attempt at rape
(Chapter One) (Chapter Two) (Chapter Three - coming soon)
Chapter Two - Fight or Flight
“Dotty, honey! We got another beer at table three,”
Dolores massages her temples behind the bar before turning to face one of the older women in Mr. Higgin’s establishment, Rosa, with a tight smile.
“Got it, Rosa,”
Dolores returns to the tap, takes a glass, and fills the pitcher. She watches the golden liquid fill the glass, her thoughts running just as fast.
Eleven months, two weeks, two days. That’s how long Dolores has been working at this shithole. Mr. Higgins kept his promise; he gave Dolores food, shelter, and a steady income of cash, but it was not enough, not by a long shot, for Dolores to get her own place.
Dolores hated it, every goddamn second of it. Mr. Higgins was ‘kind’ enough to let Dolores stay on waitress and bartending duties unless asked for specifically by a client. Those nights were the worst.
“Just lay there and look pretty,” Rosa told Dolores one night after she returned from her first night with a customer, “They don’t want a partner. They want a toy. So, be the toy and get them off so you can be done,”
Even with her little social knowledge, Dolores knew it was wrong. She felt like a doll again: manhandled, squeezed, told what to do and how to act.
“I am a real person…I am a real person…I am a real person…I am a-”
Dolores’ thoughts are cut off by the feeling of the beer overflowing onto her hand; she quickly wipes everything down before carrying the drink to the table, trying not to trip.
Mr. Higgins forced all the women to wear skimpy outfits that barely covered anything. Dolores wore a white crop top over a black lace bra that everyone could see, tight jeans shorts, matching lace panties, and white Stiletto heels.
Dolores had no idea how other women could walk in these hell shoes.
Teetering slightly, Dolores makes it over to the table and serves the man his beer, but as she turns away, she feels a sharp smack right on her butt.
“Hey!” She cries, angered, “What the fuck!?”
She turns to find him leering up at her in a very lewd and unashamed way.
“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. It just looked so appealing. Lighten up.”
Dolores feels her face twist into a scowl, but knowing this job was all she had, she holds back, actually biting her tongue to keep herself from talking.
“Is that everything, gentlemen?” she says, trying hard to keep her face in check.
“Not quite,” said the man, “Why don’t you come and spend some time with me. All work and no play makes-” he squints at her nametag, “-Dot a dull girl.”
“No, thank you,” she says stiffly.
“Oh come on, girl,” The man bites his lower lip, “You’re asking for it, come on, spend a night with Daddy,”
Dolores tries not to vomit but lets her disgust show on her face, “Ugh, fucking gross,” she starts to walk away.
“Hey!” The man gets up, “I’m talking to you, bitch!”
Dolores turns around, “Yeah? Well, I’ve taken your order and served your drink, so this discussion is over,”
The man fumes, “Oh you fucking-” he reels his hand back to slap Dolores, but another hand stops her. Mr. Higgins.
“Now, now, son,” He grins, “Hands off the merchandise. I have a special customer looking forward to seeing her tonight; I don’t need that milky skin marked up now, do I?”
Dolores folds her arms over herself, tray under her arm, trying to seem smaller. Higgins didn’t value any of his workers as people; they were just pretty cash cows for him to exploit. He talked about the girls as if they were works of art for him to sell off to the highest bidder. Or, more accurately, pieces of meat.
“Go get ready, dolly,” Higgins orders Dolores, “Your man will be here soon,”
Dolly. That fucking nickname. Dolly or Doll. Dolores hated that name with a burning passion; just hearing it sent waves of fury curling in her gut. It takes all she has not to hit Higgins around the pudgy face with the tray in her hands.
Though the thought has helped her sleep many nights.
“Sure,” she responds, before walking away to get ready.
By getting ready, she means taking everything but her bra and panties off and waiting for the guy in her room. It was so different from before, where he would wrap her up in layers of clothing to ensure she was warm, that she’d survive. Now, Dolores was actively removing her precious clothing to appease a man in almost the same way.
“Wait, what guy am I even thinking about? When did this happen?” She shakes the thoughts away and reapplies her makeup before sitting on the bed. “You can do this. Just be the toy for a few hours, get the extra money, then go home,” Dolores tells herself, “Be the toy. Get the money. Be the toy, get the money,”
It doesn’t take long for the man to knock, and Dolores looks up, “Enter,”
The man was tall and older, maybe in his mid-40s, with graying black hair and brown eyes. He wore a three-piece suit and matching fedora. He looked fucking ridiculous, like a wannabe prohibition-era gangster. It amused Dolores as well as disgusted her.
Dolores puts on her best fake smile and greets him, running a hand up his arm, “Heya, baby, how can I be of service tonight?” The man breathes a sigh of relief and instantly wraps his arms around Dolores's middle, “Oh baby, the list of things I wanna do to you tonight,” he whispers into her ear. Dolores could smell the beer and tobacco on his breath, “I got a list,”
Dolores giggles, “We’ll show me, mister, and we can discuss it,”
The man looks at Dolores, “Discuss? No, no, no, I’m doing all of these…” he pulls out a folded list and lets it fall open in front of Dolores’s face, ���...to you tonight,”
Dolores scans the list, and the alarm bell rings in her head. Not even two words down, and she’s already seen one of her hard nos.
Anal Fisting
“Oh fuck,” Dolores tries to smile again, “Baby, limits and boundaries must be discussed,” she laughs awkwardly, “Otherwise, I’m going to have to turn you away,”
The man’s grip on Dolores tightens, eyes full of lust due to her fear and smile predatory, “Did you not hear me, babe?” he asks, “I said ‘I’m doing all of this to you,”
He pushes Dolores backward, causing her to trip on her heels and sprawl out onto the bed, and she scrambles to get away, only for the man to grab her arm and force her under him.
“Come on, baby, you’ll love it, I promise!”
“HIGGINGS!” Dolores screams, “HIGG-” The man claps his hand over Dolores’ mouth, “Shh, shh, shh. No, no, baby, we’re going to have fun,”
The man moves his free hand down to Dolores’ panties, and something within her…clicks.
Without thinking, Dolores grabs one of her shoes and jams the heel right into the man’s ear. He cries out as blood spurts from the busted eardrum as Dolores rolls off the bed and onto the floor.
“What the fuck!??” The man shouts, blood leaking through his fingers as he holds his ear, “You fucking psycho! You busted my ear!”
The man attacks again, but Dolores blocks his three hook punches before jabbing the man in the kidney once…twice…thrice before punching him square in the jaw.
The man drops like a rock, crumpling to the ground with Dolores standing over him with a bloody shoe.
Hearing the commotion, Rosa bursts into the room, “What in the blazes is going on-”
She cuts herself off, seeing the prone man and Dolores.
“Honey?”
Dolores was panting, her eyes wide as she stared at the man, the shoe, then back at him.
“What the hell…?” she mutters, sitting on the bed, “What the hell!?”
“Dotty, what happened!?” Rosa drapes a robe over her, “Did…did he try something?”
Dolores nods, “He tried…” she takes a harsh breath to keep the tears from spilling, “...he tried to rape me, Rosa,”
Rosa gasps softly, “Oh baby,” she hugs Dolores, and the younger woman breaks down in her arms, sobbing into her shoulder.
The other girls, hearing Dolores’ sobs, come in and crowd around, one sitting on Dolores’ other side and rubbing her back. Rosa mouthing the word ‘rape’ to them had them all gasping in horror.
They all start whispering encouragement and comfort to Dolores, one girl gently petting her hair while another rubs her back. They all stayed with her until her sobs turned to sniffles.
One goes to get Mr. Higgings, and the unconscious man is dragged out. Another makes tea, and the girls stay with Dolores. They talk about random things—how their day was, comments about the men who remained at the bar too long—until Dolores is ready to speak.
Dolores tells them the story, all of it: him coming onto her, her saying no, him insisting, throwing her on the bed.
“It’s like I…snapped,” Dolores holds her head, “I just…suddenly knew what to do,”
“Maybe it was an old memory springing forth,” Jenny, a waitress, says, “You said you lost your memory, right?”
Dolores nodded, remembering the cover story she had told the girls when it became clear that Dolores didn’t know things that would typically be common knowledge.
“Maybe you were some kickass cop-in-training or something,” Cassy, the bartender who’d initially served Dolores her first night, comments, smiling, “That would be cool!”
Dolores, despite knowing it wasn’t true, laughs, “Yeah, maybe,” she sighs, “I just hate when I’m forced to be a toy for them,” Dolores rests her chin on her hand, “I’m not…into it, as one would say,”
Jenny thinks for a moment, “Dotty, have you ever considered being on top?”
“Top?” Dolores sniffs, “Top of what?” Cassy laughs, “Top of others, silly! You know women don’t always bottom, right? Why not be the one who's in control? That way, you could hit men - which you're clearly good at - AND they'd pay you for it,”
“Yeah, yeah!” The second bartender, Myra, adds, “Oh my god, Dotty. That’d be perfect for you! You seem to do better when you’re in control, and I know quite a few men who love being dominated by women,”
Dolores looks around, seeing that all the women agree, “But I…I wouldn’t know how…I’ve never,”
“Oh girl, no one does it at first,” Cassy scoffs, “Here, little secret…” she leans in as if to whisper, hand by her mouth, “I moonlight at a club…” she pauses as if looking for eavesdroppers, “...a sex club, downtown! They cater to all kinds of people there! I bet one of their experts can teach you a thing or two! Maybe you can even get a job!”
Dolores feels hope surge in her chest, “...Really?”
Cassy hits her arm, “Yeah, girl! Tell you what, I'll get you an interview, and then you can hook the rest of us up when you get the green,” Cassy cheekily rubs her fingers together, “Deal?”
Dolores nods, beaming, “Deal!”
The girls squeal and all hug her, Rosa looking at the group fondly.
»»———— ★ ————««
Dolores walks briskly down the city streets, dressed in the attire Cassy helped her pick out. She hasn’t said anything to Higgins in case this doesn’t work out.
Dolores was nervous; she’d never done an interview before. The girls helped her practice, but it became clear Dolores knew nothing, so they had to run her through standard social practices.
The only thing they told her to do was be there early. Her interview was at three p.m., and it was currently two forty. She would have to sprint to get there at least ten minutes early.
Dolores was in such a rush that she didn’t notice when she ran smack-dab into a man. His coffee, luckily, only hit the concrete instead of their clothes.
“Shit!” he curses, backing up, “Watch it!”
Dolores pants, looking at the man. He was shorter, with black hair that fell over his green eyes, “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking. I…”
Dolores looks around to see the C.I.A. building right next to them. The man has clearly started walking up the stairs, crossing her path.
“Oh fuck, I ran into a C.I.A agent,” she curses herself, “I’m so sorry, I have an interview and I…”
The man holds out his hand, “It’s okay,” he smiles politely, “I have one today, too. I get it,”
Dolores gets a better look at the man. His hair was shorter but just tickled his nape in a way that said he was growing it out. He wore a three-piece dark gray suit with a white button-down. He had a sharp, handsome jawline and a slightly hooked nose, and he was looking at her with a little line between his furrowed eyebrows. His posture was professional and tall, speaking wonders about his confidence.
Dolores smiled, “He’s kinda cute,” she couldn’t help but think before shaking it off, “I’d offer to get you another, but I really have to go,”
The man shakes his head, still smiling, “No need. Good luck, by the way,”
“You too,” Dolores smiles before brushing past him, “Have a good day!”
The man starts up the stairs, sending her a wave. Dolores hurries the remaining block before reaching the building. It was a giant black house with a rather intricate staircase leading to giant black wooden doors. It looked odd with the city buildings on either side, but Dolores liked it.
With a shaking hand, she knocks on the door. After a moment of waiting, a younger man with bleached white hair, eyeliner, a band T-shirt, black skinny jeans, and Converse opens the door.
“Dolores Smith?” he asks, smiling when Dolores nods, “Alright! Come on in!”
Dolores takes a breath before stepping inside, following him, “Here we go,”
#the umbrella academy#the umbrella academy imagine#the umbrella academy smut#the umbrella academy five#umbrella academy number five#umbrella academy five x you#number five imagine#five x dolores#five hargreeves imagine#five hargreeves smut#number 5#number 5 imagine#number five smut#number 5 x you#fanfic#tua fanfic#five hargreeves#number five#five hargreaves#luther hargreeves#allison hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#ben hargreeves#viktor hargreeves#diego hargreeves#lila pitts#the umbrella academy season 4#umbrella academy#tua season 4#reginald hargreeves
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