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#tua fanfics
layingwithlay · 2 years
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Side note I’m still trying to finish my Stanley FanFictions. Including this sick fic I’m working on.. sneak peak.. how many Hargreeves does it take to care for a sick kid?
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dicejpg · 9 months
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You should have left a note - {Five Hargreeves x GN!Reader}
Synopsis: Five is ordered to kill his ex-commission partner. He doesn't want to.
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Note: I made this really late at night. I would really appreciate requests for Five :)
(Not edited)
WORD COUNT: 1K
2nd POV:
Five peers down at the paper that bears your name, hands shaky. He was ordered by the Handler--just this morning--to terminate you for immediate extraction.
It’s been a year since you left Five since you left the Commission. He'd been rightfully frustrated since your abrupt departure. He didn't get a note, nor a goodbye. Sure, you two weren’t all that close as partners, but he at least deserved a warning, he thought.
He doesn't know how to feel about the idea of blowing your brains out with his M1935.
You’ve been gone for approximately a year, leaving no trace or hints as to where you may be. But, the Commission finally tracked you down to a small town in New Jersey, 1978.
When he arrives in front of your supposed living quarters, he is taken aback by the rundown apartment complex in front of him. A real shithole. Its bricks are chipped and sun-bleached, presumably from old age. Police sirens and gunshots are audible from a neighborhood away, giving away the unsafeness of the area.
It’s twelve o’ clock at night. Five quietly blinks up to your numbered room. If he remembers correctly from the paper, it's room 395. Third floor, second door to the left.
Your apartment is dark, gloomy. Five does not turn on the lights, not wanting to give away his existence. But, he assumes you’re not home anyways. Your job as a bartender at a rundown restaurant downtown would have you occupied for at least another hour.
He wonders through the confined living space, taking note of a few books scattered on the coffee table, and an unmade bed. There's a small pile of dishes in the sink, a pot and two bowls. There are no picture frames, or wall decor. The room is barren with no personality at all.
Five would not even know that you lived here from the looks of the place.
It smells like you though, he unwillingly notices. He finds it oddly comforting nostalgic.
He’s in the middle of examining some scattered papers on the ground when he hears the jingling of keys outside the door. Along with your whistling.
Five blinks behind a window curtain in no time at all, blood pumping fast. You must have gotten off early.
Your humming becomes more prominent as you enter your living space. The sound of keys being thrown on the kitchen counter makes Five jolt, but he still goes unnoticed.
You make no move to turn on the lights, so Five risks a glance at you.
Your head is blocked by the freezer door, but he notices your disheveled work attire. Some black slacks and an untucked white button down shirt. Your apron hangs on a hook by the door.
When the freezer door is closed, he notices your face. It's the same as when he last saw you, but with sadder eyes and dark eye-bags. His heart sinks, he starts feeling uncharacteristically torn.
He watches you crack open a frozen dinner meal and place it in the microwave. You roll your sleeves up to your elbows while you wait for the food to heat up. Five always thought you had nice, toned forearms. He stares at them, at you.
His eyes are intense, observing as you lean against the counter, stretching and running your fingers through your hair. He feels his stomach knot.
Five was definitely the wrong person for this job. He readys his gun quietly.
You freeze at the almost imperceptible sound of a gun clicking, slowly turning your head in Five's direction. He doesn't see the way your eyebrows furrow because he's fully behind the curtain again.
The microwave beeps quietly, but you make no move to retrieve your dinner.
The sound of footsteps approaching Five's hiding spot makes sweat bead on his forehead. He debates letting himself be caught, but decides against it. Five blinks behind you, aiming his gun.
But you've already kicked the thing out of his hands, fully expecting his maneuver. You tackle him to the ground, gripping his wrists and pinning his legs with yours. Not before kicking the gun far away, under the couch.
"God, of course they sent you, Five." You breathe, glaring down at him in dismay. "The Handler's such a sadistic- I mean, sending my own partner to kill me? Is she kidding?" You ramble is distress, cursing your ex-employer.
Five gazes up at you, swallowing thickly. He fights thoughtlessly against your grasp, but tries nothing else to get loose. He does not want to kill you.
"Let go of me." He warns, feeling fuzzy and not knowing what else to say. His eyes never leave yours.
"Why don't you just blink away? You're fully capable of getting out of this." You accuse, getting close to his face. Your breath tickles his nose. It's minty.
Five hesitates, his eyes fluttering for a moment as he fails to regain his train of thought.
He remains quiet.
"You don't really want to kill me." Your grip on his wrists falters slightly when he doesn't object.
He softly pulls his wrists free, and you let him sit up. But you keep his legs pinned just in case. There is a strangely comfortable silence as you wait for Five to find the words.
"You should have just told me you were going to leave." Five whispers finally. His tone is unreadable. "Or at least left a note."
You look at him with a pained expression. "You're right. I should have." It's something you regretted for months after abandoning him. There is an intake of breath right before you add: "I missed uh- I miss you." You redden, not looking at him.
He exhales with a hidden smile. "Me too."
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Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These
Summary: Five can't keep from dreaming about you, much to his annoyance Pairings: Five Hargreeves x Fem! Reader Tw: Yandere, Mean! Five, Fluff
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Five hasn't been able to sleep lately, because his mind was consumed with thoughts of a woman he didn't like. He'd rather never sleep again than even dream of her for a second. He didn't know why she was taking up his mind; Maybe it was some kind of curse? Yes, she was doing something to him and he didn't like it. No- no, he didn't.
He stared blankly at the ceiling, his mind racing with her. He groaned, gripping his hair, his nails digging into his scalp. He rubs his temple, before stretching his face and sitting up. He rubbed his jaw, his mind wandering back to the subject of his dreams; Which only caused his anger to rise.
He fell onto his bed, his arms stretched out. You were in the next room, so he could easily solve his problem, but he was much to prideful to ever even admit he had any kind of positive feelings for you.
He heard some noises outside of his door and decided to investigate. He peaked out the door to see you standing there. You sighed in relief, as you leaned on his door.
"Thank god you're awake. I can't sleep and I knew you'd probably be awake."
"And why would I want to be with you?"
"When have I ever let your asshole mood stop me from worming into your life?"
"It's one of the many things I hate about you."
"I know that's not true."
You were right, but he would never admit that. Not to himself and never to you.
"I think you just say that to keep up your 'douche-bag, I don't care, loner boy' persona. But, that's not why I came here."
"Oh? I thought you love reading people, even if you're wrong."
"Well, I came to see you, because believe it or not, I do like you."
"Why?"
"What?" You look at him, confused.
He doesn't look at you, instead opting to look at his hands, "Why do you like me?"
"Um... Well-" You let out a chuckle. "You're really smart. You act like you don't care, but I know deep down you would do anything for the people you care about... Um... what else?" Your eyes scan the ceiling before your eyes widen and you look towards him, "Oh! Sometimes you're attractive, especially covered in blood."
He finally looks at you, an unknown emotion swarming in his eyes, "Yeah?"
"Yeah." You smile, "But I really like you for you. You know? There's no one else I'd rather spend the end of the world with."
He smiles, but it quickly goes away, "So... What did you want?"
"Oh, right. The dreams..."
"Right." He doesn't need you to continue. Unlike his dreams that were filled with you and a happy life with you, yours were filled with destruction, blood, death; In other words the future. Your mind couldn't get off of the end of the world. "Do you want to stay in here with me? I'll watch you and wake you up if it looks like you're having nightmare."
"I don't want you to watch me sleep. I just wanted to.... I don't know."
"You don't know what you want?"
"No, that's not what I mean. I just... I wanted to be near you." You look down at your hands, before looking at him, "Because believe it or not, I really like you."
"Well, it's a good thing I really like you, too."
"I know, Five. I know."
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froggoon · 2 months
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⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。
I’ll love you in every multiverse I Five Hargreeves x Reader
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。
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⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚
Post Apocalypse Au! ( Yes Im writing another one ) WC: 1,791
Summary: The Umbrella’s can understand jumping through time and all its rules, yeah fuck with the timeline and it’ll fuck you right back. But what happens when a portal opens up in the middle of the academy and outfalls a girl who claims to be Five’s wife from a different universe.
Disclaimer: This takes place after season one if Viktor didn’t blow up the moon. ⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。
The Umbrella Academy had saved the world from its supposed end. The siblings had lounged around the academy slowly letting reality set that they had avoided their demise. It was the next morning when each of them woke up to check their surroundings, making sure that doomsday wasn’t there.
Five went downstairs for his morning coffee when he saw Allison scrolling for flights on her phone and Klaus checking where was the next place he could buy drugs.
“Leaving so soon?” He questioned.
Allison looked up at him although happy to see her brother, guilty because he was right.
“I have to go see my daughter. After everything that has happened I need her now just as much as she needs me.”
Five nodded his head, understanding where she was coming from, although a little irked she wasn’t wasting any time running away.
At this time a portal had opened above the living room. The rest of the siblings (Luther, Viktor, Diego) had rushed down to see what the loud noise was. It was like Deja Vu when Five came back. In the portal, they could see a fight happening. Figures that had looked like them in a place that looked like their home. A woman’s back came close to the portal, they could see she was in combat but stood observing. Another man who they couldn’t identify, had pushed the woman through the portal.
A girl who looked to be in her early twenties had fallen through. Her face was covered in soot, her hair black as night, and her eyes closed in pain. She was wearing a navy body suit that clung to her figure, and blood, not her own, stained the fabric.
The Hargreeves gathered around to observe this strange phenomenon trying to assess the danger of the situation. They were used to people going after them, so why would this time be different.
You coughed loudly before sitting up, and each sibling tensed with adrenaline. The girl looked around the room with blazing blue eyes before she landed on the youngest Hargreeves.
“Five?” you questioned.
Everyone turned to look at Five.
Luther spoke up first, “You know her?”
“I have never met her in my life.” Five retorted.
The girl dusted off her suit before standing. “Well if you never met me, you either will meet me or I’m dead in this universe.”
“The names y/n , y/n Hargreeves.”
“I don’t remember our father adopting anyone else,” Diego said. He raised his knives, carefully ready to strike at any move she would make.
“That’s because I wasn’t adopted into this family. Married actually.” And with this, she held up her left hand, a beautiful diamond ring shone in the light with a gold band beneath it. The diamond was embellished with 2 smaller emeralds on the side, perhaps representing her lover’s eyes.
“Married? To who.” Viktor questioned.
“To him.” She looked back at Five.
“Well not to him, an alternate version of him. We met a few years ago and got married, thus me joining his chaotic family.”
“So what are you saying you guys are married in a different timeline?” Klaus asked.
“No, not a different timeline, a different universe.” She sat down on the couch.
Your brain felt like it was rattling against your skull, and your body ached. You took a minute to think. Fuck, it was going to be difficult to get back to your Earth. And to make things better you had no idea where to start.
“Alright before you all start firing questions at me, someone get me a cup of coffee, black please.” You threw a jacket that hung over the couch on you to hide the state of your clothes. "Allow me," The alternate of your husband said. Five quickly blinked the two of you into the car and began to drive. "So you and I, are married in another multiverse."
"Correct." "You look to be about my age, how come I haven't met you yet here." Surerly he would remember someone as beautiful as you. "Well it's as I said, my version here could be dead or you might not have met her yet. That being said although 18 out of the 20 multiverses I have visited, we are together." "And the other two?" "In Earth 216, we are strangers, never have crossed paths, and never will. We simply live our lives with other people." Five's eyebrows furrowed. For some reason even if he didn't know Daisy, he didn't like the idea of you with someone else. "In Earth 894, we were madly in love but our egos destroyed us, and we were never the same since." Five could tell there was more to that story but didn't press any further. "So tell me about us, how did we end up together." "I was Diego's friend first, he and I met in the police force. Diego kinda took me under his wing as I was the youngest graduate out of the academy. Perks of having a high IQ. Anyway, he invited me over after your father's funeral. " "Long story short, you fell in love with my charms and I was the only one who could tolerate you. We got married not too long after. It was a small wedding but it's my most precious memory. Our families had gathered together at the church no too far away from here. You cried on our wedding day by the way." Inciting a side glare from Five.
"But...that's where we had some problems." "Do you remember when I fell out of that portal?" Five nodded his head remembering seeing a fight in the alternate dimension. "Well, apparently some of the 43 are not too happy about their powers, nor happy about living among the common people, they believed themselves superior and it became chaos." The two of you arrived at Griddys. Five walked over to the side of your door and opened it for you. "Thank you, darling." You said with a smile. Five's heart spiked at the nickname. He shook his head at the feeling, obviously, it's just what you were used to calling YOUR Five. The two of you sat at the counter and ordered your coffees and sweets. You signed before pulling out a small stack of photos from inside your suit. "This is us and your family." The photo was a picture of you and Five on your wedding day. Five had never looked so happy. Beside him was Luther who he assumed was his best man, next to him was Viktor, Diego, and a man who looked like you. You must have caught his staring, "That's my brother Damien." He nodded and looked beside you. You were wearing a long white dress with intricate lacing, the dress was strapless with a square neckline and had a small slit on the side. Your veil was flipped over your head and flowed down your back. Beside you was Allison as your maid of honor and two other women who he assumed were your friends. You weren't looking at the camera but at him. The next picture you gave him was a close-up of the two of you. You were the one taking the photo. His alternate self was older and had longer hair and facial hair, but he faced your side kissing your cheek affectionately. "This is my favorite photo of you." You handed him another photograph but this one didn't have you in it. This one was a picture of just Five and in his arms a little girl. She looked like you. Five gulped, a million questions ran through his head. Could this... could this have been his future if he didn't make that stupid jump? You said that not all multiverses are the same, you and him could never meet in this one. But that didn't stop his heart from hurting at the thought of missing out on a life of happiness because of his arrogance. "Before you jump to conclusions, she's not ours. She's my niece that we were babysitting. You just looked so sweet with her. You had always told me you wanted kids before but I wasn't ready." You had looked away sadly. In your home, Five always wanted to settle down and raise a family of his own, but you felt like you weren't ready. Now you regretted not because you weren't sure if you would ever be able to get back home. The two of you sat in silence drinking your coffee, both thinking about the what-ifs. "So...how did you end up here. I've been able to time travel but I've never thought about the possibility of multi-dimensional traveling." "As I said there was a fight between us, your family, and some of the 43. They called themselves the Ascendants. Believe to be the superior race." You took a deep breath before continuing. "The Ascendants had a man who could travel the multiverse with his own power, no special gear or machine need. We had planned to capture him but miscalculated. He was ready for us and he aimed to take out me, his biggest threat."
You took another breath before looking into Five's eyes. "I can warp reality. It is essentially in the name. I can manipulate reality itself, altering the fabric of existence according to my will." "But not without a cost," you continued. "Each time I control something, and the bigger it is, the more of my life force I use." Five sat in silence. This was a lot of information to take in. "So what now. How do I help you get back home." "I have...no clue. You were always the smarter one of the two of us." You sighed. It was going to take a lot of research and time to figure it out. "Well, I'm newly retired and have nothing on my plate so let's start at the library come on." He hopped off the stool and made his way to the door. "You coming?" He said turning to look at you. You smiled, he was a great man. Even if this Five wasn't your husband you loved him no matter what. You ran up looping your arm in his making your way out of Griddy's. ⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚
Author's note: I got tons of drafts just full of ideas I've had and never gone through with. I've been rewatching the MCU films and Spiderverse so that was kinda my inspiration for this one. If you like my work check out my other Five stories here! I also always appreciate comments and feedback! It definitely keeps me going. She's my Angel Pt1. Shes my Angel Pt2.
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mrsmikaelsxn · 9 months
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Oblivious To Love
masterlist 1k celebration
pairing: five hargreeves x female reader
warnings: fluff, kinda flirting, kissing
summary: five is your boss at the commission, always flirting and hinting that he likes you. you're oblivious to this but then finally admits his feelings - requested by anon
a/n: not to toot my own horn but i think my writing was pretty good in this. thanks so much for requesting for five because i have to write more of him !!
song: i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys
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Five Hargreeves was certainly a character.
He was a decently closed off person. He was always thinking... calculating. Always working to be ten steps ahead of everyone and everything.
He didn't enjoy working at the Commission. He'd rather be enjoying life with his family, and enjoying a decent cup of coffee. For a while when he was there, he was always aggravated at someone or something.
That was until you came.
Or well, until he met you. You've been working there for a few months already.
You're the most stunning person he's ever laid his eyes on. To make things better, he was over the moon when you became his assistant.
You are absolutely lovely. Not to mention, incredible at your job.
You're sweet, smart, and extremely sensible.
Five loved your company. He was always in a good mood when you're around. He often dreamt about you, not to be taken out of context.
He dreamt of a life with you, seeing as how you two are so compatible.
To put the cherry on the sundae, you made the best coffee he's ever had. That says a lot coming from him.
"Good morning, Five," your captivating voice fills his office.
"Morning, gorgeous," he smiles.
He watches as your cheeks turn a light shade of pink. "You have got to stop calling me things like that."
"Nonsense, everything I call you is fitting."
He leans back in his seat and watches your movements as you move towards him. He takes in your outfit and curses the unprofessional thoughts that invade his head.
Today you were dressed in a knee length black skirt, a white button up blouse, and a black blazer.
The blouse had a few buttons undone which gave a glorious view of your cleavage when you lowered yourself to pick a fallen paper off the floor.
However, he considered himself a gentleman, so he looked away.
"Anyway, I was just about to go and make your coffee. Would it be troublesome if I joined you today?"
He stands up from the chair and strolls over to you. He brushes a strand of hair that sways in front of your face. "You're always welcome to join me, doll."
"Great! I'll be right back," you beam and leave.
To say you enjoyed having Five as your boss was an understatement. He was always kind to you, never let anyone say a bad word about you.
You wouldn't deny the fact that he was an attractive young man. The way he called you pet names that had your stomach flutter made you have a sliver of hope that he liked you.
True, pure love.
It's something you've always dreamed about. Reading it in books and seeing it in films gave you a longing to have someone to spend your life with.
After you finished preparing the two coffees, you walk back to Five's office. Your heels make a sound with every step you take.
You open the door and send a soft smile to your boss. "Welcome back, beautiful."
You break eye contact and place his beverage in front of him. "Hi."
He leans his head in his hands as he rests his elbows on his desk and admires you. "How did I get so lucky," he mumbles, not meaning for you to hear it.
You chew the inside of your cheek, "Get lucky with what?" you ask quietly.
He blinks. Then blinks again. "How did I get so lucky with you? When did I do something to deserve you?"
"Oh, um, t-that's very sweet of-"
"Have you ever taken into consideration that there's a deeper reason why I act the way I do with you?"
"Well, not exactly..." you trail off.
"Hm. Did you ever cogitate about how maybe there's a more meaningful explanation to how I behave around you? One besides getting entertainment from witnessing you blush?"
Your mouth opens slightly, and you are at a loss for words. After a moment, your eyes meet his intense ones. You take a breath, "Are you saying..."
He nods once, "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."
"But what about-"
Before you have the chance to finish your sentence, he strides over in front of your chair, puts his hands on each one of the arm rests, and connects his lips softly onto yours.
He felt you freeze for a split second, before you tilted your head upwards to kiss him back easier.
He drowns in the feeling of your lips. The kiss being shared between you two is better than anything he ever could have imagined.
You both taste of coffee, and he loves it.
You pull back and smile shyly as him. He takes a step back and hops onto the desk, so he's now sitting on it and facing you.
He leans his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together. "I hope after that kiss you'll join me for dinner tomorrow night."
You stand up and smooth your skirt. "I would be delighted."
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badkitty3000 · 3 months
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Weak
Even Five Hargreeves is no stranger to temptation. He tries so hard to stay away. He wants to do the right thing for once in his life. If not for himself, then for her. But every man has his breaking point.
Five Hargreeves x Reader Smut
This one shot is an accompaniment to my other work "Addicted". This can be read on its own, but is a different side of the story, as told from Five's point of view.
As always, I am open to requests. Thank you!
My Master List Of Number Five Fanfiction
Weak:
I never meant to take it this far. I never meant to be cruel. That’s not who I am, or at least I didn’t think I was. I also thought I was strong and had will power. But I guess I was wrong about that, too. Because as much as I try to stay away, I don’t.
I know who I am and what I’m made of. The terrible things I’ve done. That’s not a secret and I’ve never lied to myself about that. My morals can’t even be called a gray area anymore; they’re more like an indistinct blur. But in this one tiny part of my soul, I was trying to be better. For her, at least.
I have failed miserably.
She knows what I am. When things got too comfortable and too familiar, I told her as a way to push her away and to scare her. It didn’t work, though. In fact, it had the opposite effect. She fucking loved it…and I didn’t know how to say no to that.
How could I say no when she was tearing at my clothes, practically panting with desire, and shoving her hand down my pants? All over a bloody stain on a shirt collar and the feel of my Glock against her skin. I’m sure there’s a way to resist that, but fuck if I know what it is. I’m not smart enough or strong enough to figure that one out.
I don’t particularly like all of the killing. But I’m pretty fucking good at it and someone has to do it, I suppose. I certainly never considered it sexy in any way. Then, after that first time, when she begged me to tell her all of the gruesome details, and I watched her skin start to flush and her pupils dilate…well, fuck, that put a new spin on everything.
I still don’t like it, that part hasn’t changed. I get no pleasure from pulling that trigger and watching their skull break open like a fucking pinata, spraying the contents of their brains all over the floor like the world’s worst party game. Now, however, there is a sick little spark that will ignite in me after it’s done. Because I know how it will turn her on.
And, fuck, I am weak.
That’s what this all boils down to. Weakness. For most people that meet me or know me in any way, weak is probably the last word they would use to describe me. Cold; bitter; sarcastic; asshole. Those adjectives are much more likely to be used. But weak? Doubtful.
I know the truth, though. Deep down, that is what I am. Because when you continue to break someone’s heart time and time again, just because you can’t control your own basic urges…that’s weakness. Pure and simple.
She has told me how much I’ve hurt her, and how much I am ruining her life. She has screamed and cried and told me all of the things I know I deserve to hear. She has called me an asshole more times than I can remember, and I have never disputed it. So, I stay away, like I know I should. Until she inevitably calls again. And I slip right back into it without another thought. Like the absolute fucking bastard that I am.
Weak.
Because even though I know it’s wrong and I’m slowly poisoning her with my selfishness, each time I think maybe it will be different. Maybe this time will be the time when I stay. When I will finally be the person I should be and really want to be.
All the way up until the early morning, I will convince myself that this is it. I’ve finally seen the light and I can be the man she deserves; it will be so easy. Because when it’s just the two of us, in our own little cocoon, hidden away from the outside world, the idea is magical. I would give anything to stay there, tucked away, fucking like animals until we’re both too exhausted to talk anymore. I want to stay there and listen to her voice, and her laugh, and feel her hands on my touch-starved body. And I think, yes, this is it. This is what I want.
Then morning comes and the spell is broken.
Once that first peek of dawn starts to light up the sky, all of my anxieties come rushing back, and I remember why I can’t stay. Morning brings back the real world, and with it all of its problems.
I will freeze up, practically paralyzed with fear, as she sleeps next to me, an arm draped over my chest. I will remember what kind of person I really am, and how that just doesn’t translate to boyfriend material. And it’s not just the little fact that I am a hired assassin, although that does put a slight snag in any future meetings with parents and the like.
It’s the mixing bowl of fucked up thoughts and feelings and history that lives inside my brain. Guilt. Regret. Sadness. Rage. Take your pick, none of them are great. And I can mask them for a night or two, while I’m pretending to be someone I’m not. But they will come back again, and that’s just not something anyone needs. Especially someone you care about.
So, I do the worst, shittiest thing in the world, and leave while she’s asleep. No kiss goodbye. No note. Not even a quick morning fuck. I grab my shit and leave in a flash of blue light, like the weak coward I am. Can’t even bother to use the god damn door.
I will stay away after that. At least for a while. I will ignore the incoming texts and voice mails that sometimes will follow, and sometimes don’t. I’ll pretend I don’t care about the lectures and pleas and rightly-deserved insults. But I do care. And that’s why I won’t answer.
A month might go past, maybe more. Just enough time for me to start thinking she really is done with me. Then the call will come through, late at night, and I won’t ignore it. Because, as we’ve determined…I am weak.
She is the only one, although I’ve never told her that and I bet she thinks she’s not. I’m not interested in anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. And when she stops calling for good, which one day I know will happen, that will be it. It’s either her or nobody. And it’s barely even her.
Our paths almost never cross outside of our little midnight meetings. After that first night when all of this started, I’ve never seen her anywhere else besides her apartment. I assume it’s because the types of bars and clubs I frequent are not anywhere a normal, sane person would want to spend their free evenings. But tonight, as fate would have it, I do see her. After I grab my drink off the cracked and peeling bar top and turn to look at the room behind me, I see her. And she’s not alone.
With my glass half way to my mouth, our eyes meet, and for a second neither of us move. It’s not a big place, so we aren’t that far away from one another. But it’s loud and crowded, and the guy is leaning in close to her ear, talking loudly to be heard over the constant bass thumping through the shitty speakers on the walls. Who the fuck is this guy?
It’s not fair, I know that. Believe me, I know that. And I try to give myself a stern talking-to inside my head. She is not yours. Not even remotely. You are an asshole and she deserves better. Leave her the fuck alone.
I take a drink. And then I see his hand disappear under the table, and I can see everything from where I’m standing. He’s squeezing her thigh, leaving his hand there to rest on her leg, rubbing his thumb across the bare skin that isn’t covered by her short skirt. A skirt I know I’ve had my face under before.
Fuck. I hate this guy.
In the thirty seconds that it takes for all of this to happen, she is watching me. Reading me. A faint smile plays on her lips and I know I’m caught. My thoughts must be written all over my face like a fucking billboard, and it’s too late to pretend I haven’t seen or that I don’t care. She’s got me.
If I were stronger, or a better person, I would leave. Pay my tab, collect my coat, and get the fuck out of there without another glance in her direction. Leave her be. Let her live her fucking life. But I am not. And I’m pissed.
My first instinct is to reach behind me, grab the Glock that’s hidden in the waistband of my pants and covered up by my suit jacket, and take care of this asshole right then and there. That would probably be the nicer thing to do, honestly. Then she’d finally see what a fucking psycho I am and that would end things once and for all. But I’m also not that stupid. Or that nice.
Instead, I stay and watch. I let her see me watching, too. I lean with my back against the bar, casually sipping my drink, and my eyes never leave her. I want her to know, even if it makes me more of a giant dick than I already am. I want her to know I am not pleased.
I have no idea who this guy is, and I don’t care. Maybe it’s their first date; maybe it’s their tenth. It doesn’t matter, I want him dead. And now that she knows that, because it’s pretty fucking obvious by the way I’m coiled like a cobra ready to strike right now, it’s quickly become a game. If she had feelings for him before, that seems to have been forgotten now. Because everything she is doing is for me.
Her eyes leave mine and she returns to what I can only imagine is a very dull conversation with the Neanderthal sitting next to her. She smiles and laughs, and moves her leg closer to his so that they are touching. She reaches up and fixes his hair, tucking a stray piece of it over his ear. She rests her chin on her hand and stares at him like he’s the most interesting person she’s ever encountered. And he’s eating this shit up; kicking his game up a notch with even more inane talk and rubbing her thigh up and down with his whole hand. He thinks she’s into him. Fucking dumbass.
That’s the only thing keeping me slightly calm at the moment. Knowing it’s all a play. She is a really good actress, I’ll give her that, but I’ve paid more attention to her than she realizes. I know her tells. I know the difference between her fake laugh and her real one. I can tell when she’s actively engaged in the conversation or she is just waiting for you to shut up. I know how she touches her face when she’s nervous and I know what she looks like when she wants to fuck you.
And, buddy…I got bad news for you.
The corner of my mouth lifts in an arrogant smirk as I take another drink. I shouldn’t be proud of this; I should be appalled. How dare I think I have any right to any of her little traits and quirks? I haven’t earned that. That kind of thing is reserved for boyfriends and husbands and people that can stand to stick around for more than a few hours.
When she runs her tongue over her lips in an obvious gesture meant only for me, I actually laugh out loud. Fuck, she knows what she’s doing. And it’s one hundred percent working.
As I order my second drink, feeling the calming buzz of the booze fill my brain, I start to care less and less. I don’t care if this is not fair. I don’t care that I’m being a complete and utter shit head. I don’t care if I’m weak. I’ll deal with all of that later.
I take out my phone and type out a quick text.
Enjoying yourself?
I watch as she glances to her phone on the table as it lights up. She picks it up, angling it away from Caveman Cliff, and reads it. It’s subtle, but I saw it. A brief twitch of her mouth and a quick flit of her eyes in my direction. I see her type out a quick reply and then she is back to him, completely enrapt in his droning.
Immensely, thank you
Not able to resist, I counter with:
Even I can tell from way over here that your panties are as dry as the desert
She holds in a smile as she responds back.
Too bad you’re not going to find out
Honey, if that pussy of yours is even slightly wet, it’s only because you’re thinking of me bending you over that table you’re sitting at right now
I see her legs shift and she crosses one over the other, squeezing them together as a faint blush covers her cheeks.
And why would I be thinking that?
Because that dipshit you’re with isn’t going to give you what I know you want
I watch as she swallows and then glances at the idiot to her left that is oblivious to all of this, the poor bastard. Her response is short.
Fuck you
She puts her phone away to end this exchange, but I see the small smile she is trying to hide and the way she touches her hand to her face. I can see her chest expand as she sucks in a deep breath, biting at the inside of her cheek.
I give a short snort of satisfaction and put my phone back in my inside jacket pocket. I got what I wanted. I throw back the rest of my drink, leave a few dollars for a tip, and head for the door without another look in her direction. But I know she saw me leave.
As I wait there in the dark, I think about how awful I’m being; what a shit bag move this is. I’m using her, that’s what it boils down to. Using her for her warmth and her openness, and to temporarily calm my mind. Also, for her body and her touch. She sees something in me that isn’t there; or at least something I can’t see. But I can’t or won’t give her what she needs, and I’m also not letting her move on.
Fuck, I’m an asshole.
I hear their voices coming down the hall, the rattle of keys in her hand. As they near the door, I can hear her made up excuses. She’s tired; she had too much to drink; she has a headache. Maybe next time. She’ll call him tomorrow. Then she slips inside her darkened apartment and the door closes behind her.
I’m on her before she has a chance to turn the light on, pressing her against the door as she drops her keys on the floor. Since I’ve been waiting, the anticipation has already made me fully hard and I push my groin into her while I circle my hand lightly around her neck.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? No love connection tonight?” I growl next to her ear.
She never even screams or fights back. She knew I would be there. But her hands grab my forearm and I hear her suck in a loud breath.
“I never knew you were the jealous type,” she smarts back.
 “Only when I see someone try to take what’s mine,” I hiss hotly against her neck, drawing my lips and then my tongue across her skin.
“I’m not your fucking property,” she snarls, but I can hear the break in her voice and she swallows hard against my hand.
I laugh cynically. “Well, then I can go and you can let him fuck you instead. Is that what you want?”
There’s a long pause and it’s just our loud breathing in the dark of the room. Then I feel her head move slowly from side to side.
“No,” she whispers.
As I crash my mouth onto hers, my hands in her hair and on her face, and down to her tits, she is reaching for the front of my pants. I had already removed my jacket and belt when I got there, as well as the pistol that I always carry with me. Our little act back at the bar was already enough foreplay and our bodies are screaming for each other.
Our hands can’t work fast enough as she is shoving my pants down my legs and tearing my shirt open while I rip her top off and yank her skirt up. My fingers are already pushing her panties to the side and entering her, sliding right in with no resistance.
I smile proudly against her neck. “I knew you were wet for me.”
As she moans and throws her head back, she is reaching down to stroke my cock, her warm hand tight and firm as she drags it slowly over my shaft.
My hips are already jerking into her and I want to be inside of her so badly I can’t think straight.
“Get these panties off so I can fuck you,” I snarl.
I pull my fingers out, pushing her underwear down roughly and she quickly steps out of them. With one pull of her hips into me, her arms clutching tightly to my shoulders, I lift her up and start fucking her against the door.
I tip my head back and groan loudly as she whines and pulls her legs tighter around my waist.
“Can he make you feel this good?” I ask between clenched teeth as I ram into her harder and the door rattles in its frame.
“No!” she cries out.
“Do you think about him when you’re alone and fingering yourself?”
Her moans are punctuated by the slamming of my body against hers and her fingers press deeper into my skin.
“No,” she breathes out. “No.”
“You think about me, don’t you?” I say with a sneer. When she doesn’t answer fast enough, I ask again, louder. “Don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whimpers pitifully, her nails digging sharply into my shoulder blades.
I can’t believe what I’m saying and what I’m doing. But she’s loving it and so I continue.
“I’m going to fuck you until you forget all about him, and then I’m going to fuck you some more. And if I ever see you with him again, I will kill him.”
“You wanted to kill him, didn’t you?” she asks, and that knowing smile starts to form as she closes her eyes and bites her lip. “When you saw him with me?”
“Fuck yes I did,” I groan loudly into her neck.
She’s almost there, I can tell. So am I, but I’m going to make her finish first. I pick up the pace, thrusting into her as hard as I can, her back and head slamming against the door, my fingers digging deeper into the flesh of her thighs and ass. I’m practically ripping into the side of her neck, latching on with my mouth and teeth, desperate to mark her as my own.
I listen as she repeats my name over and over in gasps and moans and I can’t hold back anymore.
“That’s it, sweetheart. You are all mine.”
She is falling apart in my arms, violently shaking against me as I penetrate her one last time, letting out a loud, guttural moan. I’m as deep inside of her as I can be, and I fill her up with so much cum, I know it will start sliding out; dripping down her legs and onto the floor. Somewhere deep inside, in the primordial part of my brain, I take satisfaction in knowing that it’s my seed, and only mine, that is coating her insides.
Once the last spasm has left my body, I let her down and she falls back against the door, breathing hard. Her bra is still on, but the straps have fallen down, and her skirt is bunched up around her waist. I look at the painful looking purple bruise I left on her neck, which is large enough and obvious enough that she won’t be able to cover it. Her eye makeup is smeared and her lips are swollen and red. She looks completely ravished. And then she starts to cry.
It’s because of me, I know it is. Because of the things I said and the things I did, and the way I needed her so desperately. She had been trying to break away from me and I reeled her back in. And I did it knowingly and deliberately, just to feed my ego and maybe not feel so alone. I could have found anyone for that. But, like the prick I am, I only wanted her.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, my lungs still working hard to get air in and out.
She just nods silently, wiping her face with her hand, and pulls down her skirt. She picks her shirt and underwear off the floor and heads to the bathroom without a word. I’m left standing there with a softening dick and my pants around my ankles.
Fuck.
I could leave now, while she’s in there, and maybe I should. That feels wrong, though. But then again, so does staying. I feel like shit and I’m so full of shame that I want to punch my fist through the wall. Instead, I zip my pants back up and walk over to her couch to wait. I turn on the table lamp and even though it’s dim, it feels blaringly bright and I have to squint my eyes.
When she comes out, she has changed into some soft shorts and a t-shirt. Her face is cleaned up and I assume her thighs and the area between them are too. She is no longer crying, but I can still see the tell-tale signs of red-rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks. I’m surprised when she comes and sits down next to me, laying her head on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, because I can’t think of anything better to say.
“I know. Me too,” she says and she leans her body against mine.
She has nothing to be sorry for and I’m not sure what to do, so I put my arm around her and hug her to me. I kiss her forehead and she closes her eyes. I don’t know why she’s letting me do this, but it feels good and I like it. Just like every other time, I tell myself that maybe this time will be different. I can do this; I can be that person. I don’t want to be that other jealous, callous, hurtful person. I don’t want to be the asshole.
“Just don’t go yet, ok?” she says quietly with her cheek resting against my chest.
I smooth her hair and run my hand down her back. I don’t want to go. She feels good and warm and soft against my tension-filled body. She feels right. I want to tell her all of that, too. I want to say I’m sorry a million times over and beg for her forgiveness. I want to wake up with her next to me every day.
“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” I murmur into her hair as I brush my chin across the top of her head.
“Don’t do that,” she pleads, her voice soft. “Please.”
I decide I’m going to tell her how I really feel. Before the night is over, I’ll come clean. And then I’ll stay. If she’ll still have me.
“You are, though. I mean it.”
She doesn’t respond, but sighs and nestles in, holding me around my waist. Fuck, I have craved this. More than the dirty talk and the biting and the ferocious fucking. I want this. I want her. And I’m going to tell her.
The rest of the night goes by in a blur. It’s there, on the tip of my tongue the whole time. All I have to do is say it. But I don’t.
We fuck again, rough and hard, on the couch and on the floor. I leave more marks on her chest, branding her as my own. I tell her she’s mine, and I make her scream my name again, but I don’t say what I really mean.
We fuck in her bed, while we’re both tired and slightly drunk. I pump lazily into her while she lies underneath me and moans softly. I kiss her lips and tell her how gorgeous she is, and it’s not a lie because she is. I worship her body, running my tongue over every part of it, tasting her skin and her delicious arousal. I can taste my own cum as I lick into her soft folds and inside her pussy that’s been stretched and abused by my cock several times over.
There are so many opportunities and I don’t take any of them. I let her fold her body into mine as I hold her in the dark and I can say it right now. It would be easy and it would be the truth.
I want to be with you.
I want to be yours.
I want you to be mine and mine alone.
I want to stay.
But I am weak, and so I don’t.
She sleeps against me and I listen to her rhythmic breathing while I lie there wide awake. I think about all of the things I should have said. Everything I should have done and should not have done. I hate myself for all of it.
When the sun creeps in, and the faintest light is leaking through the curtains and cutting through the safety of the darkness, it all comes crashing back. I remember why I can’t stay and why those words just wouldn’t come out. The reality of the real world is glaringly obvious in the light of day and I remember all of it.
The real world is filled with everyday things like jobs and homes and bills to pay. Coworkers and families that want to meet you. Graduation and birthday parties. Movie and dinner dates, holidays and vacations. Marriage. Children. Normalcy.
There’s just no way any of that would work. I can’t fit into that life, even though I want to. I think of all of the things holding me back and they keep piling up until they are crushing me and I feel like I can’t breathe.
I am an assassin. A killer. A murderer. I have seen the end of the world and survived the most horrific things. I have PTSD and crippling anxiety. There are nightmares and paranoia and episodes of manic rage. I am old and I am tired. There is nothing left of me and nothing left to give. I am not meant for normalcy.
As I slowly remove her arm from across my chest, she stirs but she doesn’t wake. I take a moment to look at her. Her mind isn’t betraying her with vivid dreams of the world collapsing around her in a fiery blaze or sprays of bullets piercing her body. She is at peace and I am envious of that.
I am not good for her, I know that. I need to go and stay gone. She deserves stability and happiness and a million other things I cannot give her. So, I will be the asshole that leaves in the morning before she wakes, just like I always do. She will hate me and curse me and cry for me. And I will stay away this time. I have to.
I chance it by leaning in and brushing my lips across her forehead. Her face wrinkles up and then relaxes again, but she doesn’t wake. I slip out of the bed and out of the room, following the trail of discarded clothes and put them back on one by one. Then I am gone in the same flash of light that allowed me to enter there in the first place. A convenient exit that I have misused way too many times.
Outside, the sun is bright and the world is waking up. I can feel my resolve growing stronger as the new day builds. That was it, I am done. It was awful and I shouldn’t have done it, but it’s over now and I will not be repeating it. I am a pillar of inner strength. That was the last time and she is finally free of me. I am doing the right thing.
My strength is impressive, both inside and out. But it is not impenetrable, especially when darkness falls and the world around me grows quiet. When I am alone with nothing but my thoughts, and I just need to feel something good again.
Everyone has a weakness.   
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rcksmith · 1 year
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Untouchable - Five Hargreeves
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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.
-----------
All the Hargreeves siblings thought all was well when the Commission was defeated and they got a briefcase to take them back at home. The nightmare of the second apocalypse had already passed and now the feeling that invaded their bodies was one of relief. For a second, Klaus thought that everything would now be back on track; with the family together, stronger ties and improved relationships.
Everyone thought so, actually.
The shimmering blue flash engulfed all the brothers, passing through the barriers of space and time, leaving the Hargreeves in the mansion where they grew up and spent most of their lives. Everyone looked happy, relaxed. And Five also shared the same relief.
Until that fateful moment.
Until a draft of wind enter through the window behind him and hitting his back, bringing a feeling that immediately made every hair on his body stand on end. In a matter of seconds, all sense of relief, calm, and peace were shattered, exploding one by one with the same aggressiveness of a nuclear bomb. The world seemed to stumble and stoped, the colors of the hemisphere fluidized into a vintage orange, flickering, almost as if the lighting came from candles.
As much as his siblings were laughing and making noises, everything for Five was quiet, in a tacit silence. The sound of cars on the streets did not exist anymore, the conversations disappeared, and, little by little, the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. Increasing in tempo gradually, like a soundtrack.
Then, in the apex of silence, when Five could already hear the blood rushing through his veins, he listened.
Five.
Your voice in the wind, almost like a whisper. Calling for him. Just like you did a long time ago.
His soul gave a scream that shook him to the very bones, and he didn't notice when his eyes widened and his breath hitched. Suddenly, his whole body came back to life, being pulled sharply from the bottom of the ocean, submerging, desperately, breathless, astonished. Abruptly, the heat returned to his hands, to his cheeks, to his heart. Five could feel warmth coursing through his body as if they had rekindled the flame of his soul.
Was like resurrect.
He looked back in one jerk, spinning in place, heart pounding in his ribcage, his frantic, frantic eyes darting around every corner.
Nothing.
“Hey, are you okay?” Klaus looked back, focusing on his brother, but Five didn't respond.
He walked past Klaus as if he couldn't hear him, his eyes and hands trembling visibly, his step tight. Five chased the wind current as if he were chased his life, oblivious to anything or anyone.
His siblings, finding the situation strange, followed him without hesitation, accompanying the owner with green eyes entering more in the house. They had no idea what to expect, or what to think, but they stopped behind Five as he froze in the middle of the living room, eyes petrified, wide, fixed on a very specific spot at the top of the stairs.
But nobody noticed what he saw.
While all the Hargreeves were taken aback by Reginald's appearance in the outer corner of the room, stunned and petrified, growing more and more stunned as their father went on to explain the situation, Five couldn't take his eyes off the top of the stairs. Nothing in the world would have made him look elsewhere.
You.
You.
Fucking hell...you.
There, standing next to people he didn't care to find out who they were, looking down, observing at the people who had just entered.
Suddenly, everything inside him was whipped by currents of electricity, as if he'd been struck by lightning. An argument seemed to be brewing in the background, but Five Hargreeves didn't fucking care. May the world explode, may everything end up in dust, fire or water. He didn't want to know.
You were there. With the sunlight coming through the large windows behind your back, and illuminating your silhouette as if you were a deity, a goddess, a muse. You shone. Like the gates of heaven. At that moment, the soul of Five Hargreeves fell to his knees in front of you. For you.
An extremely strong emotion invaded him without asking permission, destroying everything he once was. Five felt like crying.
As a war in the background unfolded, the people who were beside you started to descend the stairs one by one. But he couldn't take his eyes off you.
“Five. Five.” Luther seemed to call out to him in the background, but he didn't care.
You walked down the steps the same way you glided through that ballroom, as if the floor were your clouds. Yours robes were uniform this time, but Five was pretty sure that behind that high collar, your skin harbored a birthmark on your collarbone. Your hair was down, but he knew how you looked with your strands tied up.
With each step you took, more his pulse quickened. It was like a dream, a mirage, his oasis in the scorching desert. At some point in the battle against the Commission he had died, and that was his dream.
However, Luther's hand gripped his arm, forcing his green eyes to meet his brother's.
“Dude, what's wrong with you? Didn't you hear dad saying that we're in another reality?”
“I am not your father.” Reginald countered. “Not in this reality.”
Five frowned, rationality slowly returning to his body, his brain taking over once more. A parallel reality. That explained a lot. A reality where…you existed.
Holy shit.
Someone said the Hargreeves had better go, and Five would have laughed out loud if he hadn't submerged in thoughts. If they really was in a parallel reality, that meant you didn't remember him. You didn't even know him. The version who have danced with him was still in another century, in a timeline far, far away.
But…Five looked up. You radiated the same beauty of the romantic period as before, your skin still looked feather soft, your lips still where able to take away his complete self-control, your eyes still have… the same glow that he remembered so many times during so many nights.
You didn't know him, but that didn't matter. Because Five knew you.
He suffered the worst of martyrdoms all this time, and now that he'd finally, finally found you once more, he wasn't going to leave. Even if it meant having to make you fall in love with him all over again. In fact, Five Hargreeves would dedicate his entire lives to making you fall in love with him all over again in every reality there is. He would have as many times as necessary a first dance with you.
He didn't realize it, but his lips lifted in a smile. In a snap of fingers, everything reached a apex, higher than the buildings, higher even to the clouds. All the problems evaporated like mist in the sun, and being in a parallel reality, with a father that wasn't his, in a house that wasn't the one he grew up in, seemed to be extremely insignificant.
For the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was happy. And nothing would change that.
That's when, amidst all the arguing the Hargreeves and Sparrows were having around, your eyes met his. And for him it was like coming home after an excruciating winter.
You cocked your head slightly to the side, intrigued by the way that man was looking at you so…surrendered. You understood the gravity of the situation, of those strangers breaking into your home and trying to claim everything as theirs. You were also irritated just like your siblings.
But... when you looked at that man… with eyes so green and hair so dark, something inside you caught your breath. A shiver went up your spine. And maybe you were crazy, but you can swear that felt your soul heave a sigh of…relief. A strange, emotional feeling reverberated through your spirit as if…somehow you'd just found what you've spent so long waiting to met again.
It don’t make sense.
As the confrontation unfolded between the two families, you couldn't help but notice that, minute by minute, you found yourself wanting to look at this man more. As if it were never going to be enough, as if the second you turned your head, you were overcome with an insane urge to see more. You should be focused on trying to get those strangers out of your house, not admiring one of them.
But Five realized that. A spark inside him vibrated with hope, and he delighted in being able to relive the feeling of what it was like to be looked at by you again.
But before he or you could even do anything, the physical feud between the two families broke out with astonishing speed, spreading like the plague. Diego, as usual, was the first to go into battle, followed by Luther and Allison.
See, you didn't consider yourself a confrontational person. Your peculiarity was to manipulate the natural elements and, although that made you one of the strongest figures among your siblings, you had a more adventurous spirit than a fighter. There was no such homeric thirst in your blood to be the best, the strongest, the most brutal. Ben said that was the most unattractive thing about you, but Sloane saw this feature with good eyes. Like you, she wasn't much inclined to brutality.
The fight drove you and Five away from each other, separated by rooms, siblings and war. You saw your family appeal to brute aggression very quickly, while, if you're honest, you didn't want to hurt anyone. Is trut that you were irritated by the way they claimed your house as theirs, but you didn't think they were bad people.
Or all this bland resolutions were for the fact that you didn't want to hurt him. Because, in some way you couldn't explain, you knew he wouldn't hurt you.
But that's when Alphonso yelled at you from upstairs. “Y/N! Do fucking something too!”
Everyone was scattered around the house, but you still remained downstairs, in the living room, arranging a way to help without being very aggressive like your siblings were being. You had no intention of killing or seriously injuring them, but you also weren't willing to put up with the scolding your brothers would give you if you continued to be omitte.
So, when one of the strangers came running to get away from something, the tail of his dark overcoat dancing in the air and his black hat toppling along the path, your reaction was to do the one thing that couldn't seem to do any real damage. In a wave of the hand, the windows were shattered by large, sprawling tree roots, that came out of the garden earth like thick snakes and entered the house in a steady stream.
The man gave a high-pitched scream, but his feet were already entwined by the roots and he was knocked to the ground. The roots, which spilled earth over the floor and exhaled a forest smell, wrapped themselves around the man's body up to his chest, with the only purpose of immobilizing him.
You weren't putting force or brutality, and you were sure the roots were just putting considerable pressure on, like a bandage around an injured arm. But the man didn't seem to notice this, because he kept screaming.
The fear should still be clouding his senses, and you revealed the situation. For it wasn't often that someone was wrapped around by giant roots that moved of their own accord. In your place, you would have reacted that way too.
“Hey, hey” you tried to get closer “It's ok, they won't hurt you and…”
But your speech was interrupted by shrill hum, which cut through the air with force and passed like a bullet in front of your face, shaking a few locks of your hair. The speed were frightening, and for a second your heart stopped in your chest. The fright made you take two steps back immediately, but in a matter of seconds any feeling was replaced by a very strong burning in your left cheek. In the same second, a hot liquid began to ooze from your injured skin like water in a current, spreading pain wherever went.
Two seconds that were able to put you face to face with death. Because that attack was not joking.
The bearded man ran to help the one who was lying on the ground, forcing his freedom between the roots that were now weak due to your distraction.
Unlike you, Diego didn't care about the things he had to do to save his family. He was willing to injure, inflict permanent damage, even killing if that was the only way out. He would have a guilty conscience later, but in the heat of the moment, he wouldn't hesitate. Diego did this to the Commission agents hours ago, and he would do this to you if he had to. As sure as the sky was blue, the Sparrows were the enemy. And he was the hero. Thats it. Two polar opposites, destined to face each other into the death.
And that was why he didn't hesitate to attack when he saw Klaus lying on the floor, screaming as if he were being killed. After getting a small taste of the kind of things your powers were capable of doing, it was pretty clear that you were one of the first ones that needed to go down. So Diego didn't hesitate either when he pulled Klaus off the ground, and wielded yet another dagger. Aiming not to hurt, but to kill.
But love could drive even the smartest minds crazy.
Because when the dagger was thrown in the air, a blue flash invaded the scene and a male body enveloped yours, pushing both of you aside in a rough, protective, intense gesture.
Five Hargreeves was on the stair railing, fighting Jayme, when Klaus's screams grab his attention. He didn't have much time to process what he was seeing, but the moment one of Diego's daggers slashed across your cheek, the primal, visceral instinct he'd felt so long ago, with The Handler on  The Commission, roared through him like an angry beast. So when another dagger was wielded and thrown into the air, he didn't think twice, didn't hesitate, didn't blink.
Dropping everything behind, Five Hargreeves dove into the blue flash, having you as the only focus in mind.
As soon as the crash of his body with yours caused you both to leave the deadly path, the arms, masculine and wide, wrapped around your back as if he were holding the only anchorage on the high seas in the middle of a storm. His heart was pounding in his chest, and as much that adrenaline, primal instinct and rage were bubbling through his body, he still managed to feel his soul sighing in deep relief when felt your warmth again in his arms.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"
Diego's angry roar seemed to shake the walls, but didn't stop the obstinate, angry look that swallowed Five's expression.
“Diego…” his voice didn't match the situation the Hargreeves found themselves in. His tone was serious, steady, so calm it was terrifying, like the warning of darkness to the light. “Stay away from her.”
His brother's confused and perplexed look couldn't have been more accentuated. And even Klaus, known for being the least serious about situations, looked completely astonished. Five Hargreeves didn't held you like he was preventing a murder. No. He held you like Cerberus should have held the only person he was ever loyal to.
"You are fucking crazy?!" Diego gestured with his hands “Let go the enemy now!”
The Hargreeves have been through a lot, seen a lot. Many of them being absurd, beyond any rationality or law of physics, moments in which they had to deal with situations that were not possible to be of this world. But nothing, and no one, could have prepared Diego and Klaus for what they heard from Five;
"Never."
The moment was dispersed when Viktor appeared in the room, shaking, hurt, out of his mind. His head fell back in a single gesture, his arms opened up and the fists closed, as white lights began to shoot out from within his eyes and chest.
Five Hargreeves knew what that meant.
He didn't think twice before running to the side,  hiding you behind the bar counter and lowering you two bodies to the floor. His body in front of yours, blocking access to the roughest impact in you.
You two had three seconds, three seconds to look into each other's eyes before the flash explodes. And in that three seconds, the only thing that passed in the soul of both of you was the feeling of finally being where should be.
-----------
"They're stupid villains who think they're smart!" Ben was furious in the kitchen, pacing back and forth.
The last few days had passed like this. With Ben angry about the invasion, Ben angry about the fight, Ben angry about Marcus disappearing, Ben angry about... well... he was always angry.
Of all your siblings, he had the worst temper. Fei and Christopher were practically his dogs, going along with all of Ben's stupid plans just because... you really didn't know why they followed him so fervently, but had a theory that it was because they both thought they would have more power when Ben's plans came to fruition.
A hierarchical system that filled the family with toxicity.
On the other hand, there were Jayme and Alphonso. You never really understood the two, but you described them as bullies. A duo who liked the power they had and how they managed to exert it over people.
The only one you could relate to more deeply was Sloane.
"It would have been better if Y/n had made an attack." Alphonso brought your name up in conversation, his gaze full of rancor.
"Fuck off, asshole" It was the only thing you deigned to say, because you didn't have the patience to deal with his comments at the time.
The truth is, since the invasion, you couldn't get him out of your mind.
It was like a drug, an addiction, that had seeped into your blood from the first time you laid eyes on him. There was something there, something you could never explain. He should be the enemy. Your enemy. But…
The way he saved you from the knives, the way his arms wrapped around you. Almost like he already knows how to hold you. How to protect you.
Your heart couldn't slow down whenever your thoughts returned to that man. From the memory of him placing his body in front of you, standing at the forefront of the explosion.
He saved you. Everytime. And there was something that told you he would save you every chance he got.
The truth was…you wanted to see him. Know his name. Talk with him. There was no longer a fiber of your being that saw the situation as your siblingsdid, your body was facing the complete opposite north.
You wanted to touch him, not fight with him.
When time passed, and Luther showed up at the mansion as someone who was kidnapped, you, again, did not see the situation as a beneficial opportunity for your family. But for you.
Suddenly, your entire soul was gripped by a completely unsettling anxiety that made your hands itch, stomach churn, and your legs unable to stay still. Then you were swept by a feeling of deep sadness, as if you'd already experienced what it was like to spend your whole life wanting to see that man and never getting.
There was no more logic, rationality or coherence to what you were feeling, but finding him was as indispensable as breathing.
That's why you volunteered - more like an imposition - that you would be the one to escort Luther home the moment Ben said he could leave.
“It was kind of you to accompany me” The blond man smiled at you, as the two of you walked through the night streets.
"It was nothing." You tried to sound casual, but with every step toward your destination, the more your hands itched, the more your heart was racing, and in a moment, you found yourself picking up the pace to get there faster.
“I have to confess that you were a topic of discussion between my brothers.” Luther laughed, his odd way of bringing up the subject and not mincing words.
But that got your attention. "What do you mean?"
“A-ahem…well…from what I understand, Diego wanted to kill you, but Five stopped him and…”
Five…Five
His name was Five.
Something inside you stirred. An unfamiliar emotion, but one that made a smile rise to yourcheeks.
“Five” you tried to say aloud, and his name just… felt right on your lips.
You went the rest of the way not being able to pay attention to a single syllable Luther was saying. You don't wanted to be rude, but you just… couldn't stop thinking about Five.
“How long before we get there?” you cut off something Luther was saying about Sloane, and the blond eyebrows drawing together in strangeness.
“Actually” he looked at the big hotel in front of him “We already arrived and…”
But you couldn't stop yourself. All of your muscles felt like they had undergone countless electrical discharges, your heart was faster than any living soul has ever been, and your blood was rushing through  your veins like marathon runners. You increased your pace considerably, quickly climbing the steps and opening the doors of that building as if you had just walked through the gates of paradise.
You needed to see him.
Luther came up behind you, giving you a suspicious look and walking towards a bar, where the outlines of several people were talking.
-----------
"I returned." Luther's voice brought Five out of his thoughts, and a part of her brain tried to remember the time his brother had left.
And he didn't find any answers.
To his defence, Five's mind had been elsewhere these days. Moments when he rewound in his mind once, twice, three times. Not even the impending new apocalypse knocking on the door seemed to have any effect on Five. To be honest, he… saw no point in trying to save the world this time. Meeting you once was a miracle, but meeting you again, in an entirely different reality and without The Commission making things difficult, seemed like too much of a luxury for him to ignore.
The truth was that in the first attempt to escape the apocalypse he ended up sending the family to different times, with intervals of years between each one. And, deep down, he didn't know if he could handle trying to take you with him to another reality and end up losing you too.
Five had been through this once before. He knew pain too well not to be willing to risk it.
“What is the enemy doing here?!"
Diego's voice snapped Five out of his thoughts, and an electric current shot through his head and reverberated down to his toes. Immediately, without any hesitation, his eyes flew away, finding not just Luther - whit several bags in hand - but you beside him.
You.
Something inside him ignited, his heart raced and, for a moment, the whole world around him fell away.
But just for a moment, because Diego was already getting up from his seat.
“Hey. Hey!” Five teleported away, once again placing the body in front of you . “What the hell do you think you are doing?”
“What would anyone do to the enemy! What are you doing? Defending a stranger again?!"
“She is not a stranger, Diego. Now be quiet in your place before I have to do it for you.”
"She is not?" Klaus and Viktor said in unison
"I'm not?" Your voice, the only one that mattered to him, came from behind his back, quieter than the others but loud enough for him to hear.
Five turned towards you, turning his back on his siblings. Unlike how he looked at Diego, his eyes held all the softness and attention in the world when they met yours. A small smile appeared at the corner of his left mouth, a secret smile, hidden from the world but revealed only to you.
"It's a long story," he admitted, having no idea how to start. How to tell something that even to him don't make sense.
“I came to see you.” you rewarded his honesty with another truth, a gleam crossing his eyes like shooting stars. “I have time to listen.”
A smile blossomed on his lips, and Five was overcome by the purest feeling of happiness. Without saying anything, or giving anyone satisfaction, his hand laced into yours, and he disappeared with you in the blue flash.
-----------
Any sensible, practical, centered woman, would have laughed at what Five had just told you. Anyone who didn't get carried away by matters of the heart and didn't believe that two people, when destined to be together, are helped even by the wind, would have turned around and walked away.
But you weren't a sensible woman, nor practical, much less centered. Your being was composed of romance, adventure and magic. You fervently believed in destiny, soulmates and that some loves are capable of overcoming the barrier of space and time.
What's more, if all that wasn't enough, you also felt, from your soul to your bones, sensations that couldn't be explained. Feelings he was also saying he felt too. You believed in him. And that fact came as soft as the droplets of dew, as the brightness of the moon.
After his account came to end, with him letting himself be vulnerable in telling all the thoughts that ever crossed his mind about you, the urge to say just one thing screamed your blood rumbling. “You’re no the villain in my story” your words hung in the air.
“I am,” Five's voice brimmed with a liquid honesty that was able to chill your bones, but nothing in his words hinted at remorse for the things he'd already done. “But i'll be the villain for you. Not to you. I'll let worlds burn again if it means keeping you alive. In a problematic way, that I'll never be able to explain, I don't feel guilty about doing something if it means your safety.”
Five Hargreeves expected many things. Many different reactions. Many words of contradiction. But never what happened next.
Your mouth, without any hesitation, joined his in a kiss that was capable of making his world explode. His body was ignited by a fire that swallowed even his soul, washing away all his sins and giving a demon a taste of heaven.
So what was it like to kiss a goddess? An angel, a muse.
If before, without even touching your skin without the interference of clothing, Five would have happily accepted going to hell, now, with your hot mouth melting into his like warm honey, he would accept the torture of eternal fire with a smile on his face.
And when the small kiss intensified into something much bigger, his hands, warm and masculine, wrapped possessively around your waist. There was no going back. There was no turning back. Five would keep you for himself in the same selfishness that a villain steals a princess. And there was no hero in the world capable of pulling you away of his clutches.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” He found the last bit of strength to let you know when your hands untied his tie “I could really hurt you.”
But all good intentions evaporated when your eyes, eager and full of desire, blinked at him. There was an addictive sweetness in that look. The way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, the way your eyes held tinges of delicious submission but hid an incendiary fire behind them.
Fucking damn. He wanted you so badly.
"I don't care." Your breathless whisper invaded the room. But he didn't know if you understood the seriousness of the situation.
“Y/n.” his hands cupped your face. “I spent a lot of time contenting just for the way you looked at me. Spending sleepless nights reliving what it was like to feel the contour of your waist in my hand.” His voice was serious, deep, rough like sand scraping against stone. “Do you have any idea of the things I'm going to do to you now that I can finally, finally, have you?” his pitch lowered a few notes, like a predator talking to its prey.
You didn't know it, but only imagination made yours thighs tighten.
“I can destroy you.” his lips went to the foot of your ear, down to the curve of your neck, inhaling  your scent and tasting you. “I can leave your body purple, your breasts bitten, your hips marked by the aggressiveness of mine whenever I enter on you.”
A moan escaped your mouth, fingers tightening on his arms, head lolling to the side.
Oh lord, please he do that.
Five's hands went up to your shoulders, in a touch that became more and more possessive, gluttonous, as if he wanted to swallow you.
“I can spend hours fucking you.” his fingers lowered the straps of your dress, letting the fabric fall unceremoniously to the floor. Five pulled his face away enough to be able to look at your body fully, and a husky growl followed right away. “I can kill you.”
Here, in that moment, Five Hargreeves was giving you one last chance to give up, to make him tame the villain he was and who would destroy you for any other man.
If you slept with Five Hargreeves, you would never stop being his.
"Do it." but you didn't have an ounce of self-preservation in the inner body "please."
You didn't have to beg twice. His hands pulled your legs up, making you place your feet on his hips and hug him with your legs. Your back hit the closed bedroom door as Hargreeves' mouth claimed all it could of his. Twisting your tongue around his, biting and sucking on your bottom lip, he was beginning to mark you as his in a single kiss.
“You have no idea how much I want you.” his confession was more of a hoarse groan, hands fumbling with his belt and lowering the waistband of his pants.
Under other circumstances, he would have sucked you until drive you unconscious, pushing your walls with his fingers until you begged for his cock. But he didn't have the presence of mind to do that now. Not now. Not today. He warned of the consequences of wanting to continue at that moment. But you wanted, you begged, and now he was no longer afraid of being able to fuck you with all the vehemence he needed.
Your moans invaded the room very quickly, your waist, even if limited by the door, moved in his groin, exorcising any common sense and control that Five once had.
He pushed your panties to the side impolitely and entered you in one single, glorious, primal thrust. His cock slid in with extreme ease, being completely soaked by the way your pussy was so slick.
“Oh fucking hell” his growl sent even more waves of pleasure to your uterus, and you pressed your mouth to his neck to keep from screaming.
That's when he withdrew and pushed himself into you. Strong, brute. Hitting until found the bottom of the well. His thrusts began relentlessly, thrusting in and out of you aggressively, possessively, almost animalistic. Five's hands were all over yourbody, fingerprinting every bit of your flesh. The nails digging into your waist when you contracted and squeezed him within your plush walls.
“Fuck. fuck.” his groans mingled with the attrition of the bodies of you two against the door, which sent loud, telltale noises throughout the  hotel.
But you would rather die than stop.
His cock suddenly hit a place that made your moans come out too loud. Tears began to pool in the corner of your eyes, and your toes curled.
“Oh do you feel this, baby?” Five teased you, digging himself as deep as possible anatomically and rubbing the tip of his cock there, eliciting sly, desperate cries from you  "That's your cervix."
Then he went back to fucking you aggressively, this time pulling his chest away from you and digging his hands hard into the flesh of your hips, pulling you towards him at a intensity that could only be described as animalistic.
This was better than anything he had ever tasted in his life. Better than any sin. Better than any whiskey.
His cock desecrated your pussy like it was the only thing that mattered in the world, pulling thick liquids out of you that enveloped him in pasty white rings. Five Hargreeves would ensure that whenever you thought of any man, your mind was invaded by the way he fucked you.
"I will… I will…" your tearful voice blended with the noise of the door slamming and your bodies bumping into each other.
“Thats right, baby” his mouth covered your “cum for me. cum so I can fill that gluttonous pussy with my cum.”
If the way he thrust in and out of you wasn't enough to make you come, his lines had done the job. You came in a glorious explosion of stars, colors and sensations. Your body contracted with absurd force and relaxed like the best of massages. Your arms went limp around his neck, and you could feel his cock tremble and the hot, thick liquid fill your entire pussy.
The noise of the door stopped, his moans calmed down and now the only thing that could be heard was the heavy breathing in the air.
You thought it was over, until Five climbs a hand to your neck and lets out  a broken growl "'You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat, baby."
His cock moved inside you, moving in and out smoothly, pushing his cum even deeper inside you. Make sure you gobble it all up.
“Did you think we were done, princess?” he chuckled evilly, his lips moving closer until they were inches from yours. "I'm just getting started. I'm going to show you how much I've wanted you this whole fucking time.”
3K notes · View notes
c’mon, you know there’s a terrible made-for-tv movie about the kennedy six in the sparrow timeline
5K notes · View notes
incorrectklaus · 7 months
Text
Klaus: Has anyone seen my séance candle?
Diego: You mean the one you light to talk to the dead?
Klaus: No, the one I light to set the mood for my bath.
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nickeverdeen · 2 months
Note
can u do hcs where five finds female!reader whose powers are very related to the four elements? When he finds her, she's very scared of herself because she accidentally caused a neighborhood to suffer an earthquake, so since that, five takes her under his wings and begins to help her understand her power. (like for example, he figures that her powers are very emotional related. And he starts to be her mentor, helping her control her powers so she doesn't cause a storm when she's sad or angry, or so she can't start burning things when she's panicking, for example)
Five finding female!reader whose powers are related to the four elements and he mentors her
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Five stumbles upon you during one of his time jumps, witnessing you accidentally causing an earthquake with your elemental powers
At first, you are terrified of Five, mistaking him for someone from the government coming to take you away
Seeing the fear and confusion in your eyes, Five decides to approach you and offer his help instead
Five becomes a mentor figure to you, teaching you about your powers and helping you understand their nature
Five realizes that your powers are closely tied to your emotions, and he starts to teach you how to control them
Five teaches you techniques to regulate your emotions, preventing you powers from spiraling out of control
Together, you identify triggers that exacerbate your powers, such as anger, fear, or panic
Five helps you learn how to control your powers, starting with simple exercises and gradually increasing the difficulty
You spend hours practicing in secluded areas, away from prying eyes, to avoid causing any more accidents
Five is patient and persistent in his teaching, never giving up on you even when progress is slow
Over time, you learn to trust Five, knowing that he genuinely wants to help you
As you spend more time together, you and Five confide in each other, sharing your fears, doubts, and hopes for the future
Five provides emotional support for you - well he’s trying to - and helping you navigate the challenges of mastering your powers
You both establish a routine for training sessions, setting aside specific times and locations to practice your powers
Five encourages you to experiment with different techniques and approaches to control your powers, finding what works best for you
When you make mistakes or experiences setbacks, Five helps you learn from them and move forward
Five introduces “his student” to the theory behind elemental powers, teaching you about the elements and their influence on the world
You develop a rigorous training regimen to strengthen your control over your powers, incorporating physical, mental, and emotional exercises
Five simulates high-pressure situations to help you practice controlling your powers in stressful environments
Over time, your control over your powers improves, and you gains confidence in your abilities
Five encourages you to push your limits and explore the full extent of your powers, under controlled conditions
As mentor and mentee, you and Five learn from each other’s strengths and weaknesses, growing together in the process
Through your training sessions, together you both discovers new abilities and facets of your elemental powers
Five helps you fine-tune your control over specific elements, focusing on mastering one element at a time
You practice controlling your powers in different environments, from urban settings to natural landscapes, adapting to various challenges
Five teaches you how to navigate public spaces without drawing attention to your powers, blending in seamlessly with your surroundings
You maintain strict secrecy and discretion about your powers, avoiding unnecessary attention and scrutiny
Five creates safe spaces for you to practice your powers without fear of judgment or harm
Five teaches you techniques to conceal your powers from prying eyes, such as masking your energy signature or creating illusions
Five helps you overcome your fear of your own powers, showing you that you have the strength and resilience to control them
Five occasionally pushes you out of your comfort zone to help you grow and expand your abilities
In addition to mastering your powers, Five teaches you basic self-defense techniques to protect yourself in dangerous situations
You delve into the intricacies of energy flow and manipulation, exploring your unique connection to the elements
Five helps you harness elemental energy to enhance your physical abilities, such as agility, strength, and resilience
You discuss the environmental impact of your powers and how to minimize their footprint on the world around you
Five teaches you the importance of balance and harmony in using your powers, avoiding extremes and finding equilibrium
Five shares stories and lore about the elements, drawing from his own experiences and knowledge of the world
You experiment with combining different elements to create powerful synergies and effects
Five teaches you how to project and manipulate elemental auras to enhance your presence and influence
You practice creating elemental shields and barriers for protection and defense against external threats
Five helps you enhance your physical abilities using elemental energy, such as increasing your speed, agility, and endurance
You delve into the realms of the elements, exploring hidden pockets of elemental energy and phenomena
Five introduces you to elemental spirits and entities, teaching you about their nature and significance
You practice channeling elemental forces through rituals and meditative techniques, deepening your connection to the elements
You both discuss strategies for navigating elemental crises and disasters, from earthquakes and floods to wildfires and storms
Five shares knowledge about elemental deities and gods worshipped by ancient civilizations, exploring their mythology and symbolism just to understand this all a bit better
Five teaches you how to assess the environmental impact of your powers and take proactive measures to mitigate potential harm
Both of you explore the possibility of collaborating with elemental beings and entities to amplify your powers and influence
You work towards mastering elemental mastery, achieving complete control and mastery over the elements and their manifestations
Five encourages you to unlock your full elemental potential, pushing you to explore new frontiers and push the boundaries of your abilities
You both delve into your elemental legacy, exploring your ancestral connections to the elements and unlocking dormant powers within your lineage
Five helps you realize your elemental destiny, embracing your role as a guardian of the elements and a champion of balance in the world
Together, you and Five forge a new elemental legacy, leaving your mark on the world and shaping the course of elemental history for generations to come
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eddies-guitar13 · 2 years
Conversation
Viktor: what do you call disobeying the law?
Five: a hobby
Luther: *stares intensely at Five*
Five:...that we don't engage in
1K notes · View notes
rothman1966 · 3 months
Text
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S4 of The Umbrella Academy returns august 8?
I don't believe it. 🔪💼
Prepare for the Hargreeves family to face their worst nightmare one last time.
Five Alternative. (Au)
New design.
You are in the wrong channel.
(Original Characters)
_
_
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thebearmage · 1 year
Note
Hi! Could I request an one shot about Five&Wife!Reader set in S3 at the wedding, where Y/N worries about Five's drinking frenzy and takes care of him that night? Ya know, that usual drunk words are honest words, world ending stuff etc. I'm just into fluff right now 😭 Maybe Five and Y/N are mentally and physically the same age and know each other from the apocalypse to make it make sense. I loved In Their Arms! Five deserves love. If it's not something you're interested in to write don't worry💜
Put that down!!
Five Hargreeves x Wife!Reader
Summary: During Slone and Luther's wedding, Five goes all out on his drinking. You, being the responsible one, remain sober to take care of him. It goes as one would expect.
NOTE: I went for a bit more humor and angst here too, hope that's okay. Also, The Reader is a Speedster like The CW's Flash. So you can also time travel.
Also (F/C), for anyone who doesn't know, means Favorite Color.
Five and reader are both 18+
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"Ah, here we go,"
You turn to look and see where Five is going. The alcohol, of course.
"Oh no," You put your face in your hands, "There goes my plans for the night,"
You and Five are happily married. You were once number 8, born with superspeed and the many different abilities that came with it.
When Five ran off that day, you had used your speed to follow him. You both traveled through time, finding it fun before Five got stuck in the future. Your time travel abilities weren't as limited as his, so you could've left. But you hadn't known if you could take Five with you, so you'd stayed. You didn't want him to be alone.
You and Five were happy together. You and Five had a daughter named Delores and lived in an abandoned library. Life was good and simple then.
Then The Handler showed up and swept you both into trauma after trauma. And then, to top it all off, when you both finally went back, you both got stuck in your 18-year-old bodies.
Now, after failing to save the world a third time, you were at Luther and Sloane's wedding watching as your husband went to get drunk.
You were not much of a drinker yourself, you never really liked the taste and HATED it when Five drank. Tonight, however, you'd let it slide, but you knew you'd have your hands full looking after him.
As the night progressed, you watched your husband slowly get more and more drunk.
You had fun though. Everyone dancing together was enjoyable and you had used the (F/C) lightning that came off your body when running to spice up the floor a bit.
You were twirling around in your dress when you heard Five's voice. You watched, trying so hard not to laugh, as his drunk-as-fuck-ass gave a moving speech to Luther.
You liked Five's singing though, you walked up to the stage and joined him. Wrapping an arm around him.
When everyone moved onto the patio, you had gone off to power your nose. So Five had gone out by himself.
When you went to find the group, half of them were gone, including Five.
"Oh no," you mumble, you stop Luther as he starts to walk Sloane inside, "Where's Five?"
Luther chuckles, "Said he was going to the buffet,"
You sigh and superspeed there, looking around. No Five. You growl and continue to run through the hotel. The (F/C) sparks and a strong breeze followed you everywhere you went.
You soon found Five wandering throughout the halls with cereal in his hands. You zip in front of him and smile.
"There you are,"
Five stumbles at the breeze you make but looks up and smiles when he sees you.
"Y/N!!" He jumps up and glomps you. You're so thankful that minor super strength is part of superspeed because if it wasn't, Five would have knocked you over.
"Hey, baby," you whisper, kissing his cheek, "What are we up to, hmm?"
Five blinks heavily a few times, looking at the cereal in his hands before shrugging, "I dunno,"
You laugh and kiss him softly, "Maybe it's time take you to bed,"
Five wriggles his eyebrows and locks his arms around your neck, "Take me to bed, huh?"
You playfully push his face away from yours, "Not like that. That's the LAST thing you need. I mean sleep, mister,"
Five whines, "Nooo, the night is still young!" He throws his arms out dramatically, "and I have plans,"
You raises your eyebrows in mock fear, "Plans?"
"Plans! Yes!" Five slurs poking your chest, "Lots and lots of plans!"
Five then stumbles over to the plant in the corner of the room, you wince as he vomits. Kneeling down next to him, and rubbing his back.
"There, there, sweetie, get it out," you urge, "It's alright,"
“With everything we discussed, it’d be folly to wait,” A voice said. You snap your head around and even Five looks curious.
The white buffalo suite door is cracked open, and you two can see Reginald, “There is no time. I can’t do this without you.”
Both you and Five press against the crack in the door, straining to see who he’s talking to. You use your speed to faze through the door, only for a moment, and see Allison.
“Do we have a deal?”
"Shit," you whisper, gently coaxing Five up, "Come on, baby, we have to go,"
"What why?" Five asked, already forgetting what just happened, "Wh-" then he wobbles "Oh shit,"
Five tips backward into your arms. You weren't prepared this time so his weight sends you both into the elevator. You grunt as you land on the hard floor, with Five completely passed out on top of you.
The doors close and you sigh. You knew Allison was unstable but this...this meant trouble. You look at Five in your lap and smile. Allison will have to wait, you have your husband to take care of.
As the doors slowly open again, you pull Five to his feet and start dragging him down the hall to your room. He wakes up half-way there are starts to protest.
"No! Please! I wanna keep going," he mumbles, you shake your head.
"You're way too drunk to do anything, my love," you say, Five shakes his own head.
"Am not!"
You look at him, "Oh really? Can you look at that clock and tell me what it says,"
"It says 'Five is not fucking drunk'" he turns around, all proud of himself. You only look at him unamused,
"Okay, bed time!"
"NOOOOOOOOO!"
You drag Five to the door and lock the door. He instantly blinks away.
"FIVE!"
You run out to find him running down the hall, cackling.
"You can't catch me!"
"Oh, for the love of!"
You speed up to him, only for him to blink again. You rub your temples.
"Come on, Five. You need sleep and I'm growing tired. Let's go to bed,"
Five, appearing at the end of the hallway, tilts his head in concertation, "Nah,"
"I'll snuggle you," You offer, "Just how you like it,"
"Ooh!" Five seems interested for a moment, then shakes his head, "Nah!"
He's gone once again, causing you to huff. You wounder if it was better for him to just run himself out.
You shake your head, you can't leave him. You run after him.
Soon, the entire hotel is light up with blue and (F/C) lights as you chase Five around the hotel.
You find Five pilling a bunch of mannequins into some machine and pouring soap in.
"No!" You cry, causing him to stop, "Put that down!"
Five beams and holds the soap closer,
"No! Put it down. Put it...down!"
Five pouts and drops the soap, "You're no fun sometimes, Y/N,"
Aaaannnnd there he goes. You decide to just wait it out. The next few hours you run around, following Five but no longer trying to stop his drunken antics.
Before long you find him snuggled up under the radiator in the kitchen. You smile and shake your head fondly before picking him up.
He snuggles your chest as his eyes flutter open, "Y/N?"
"Yes, my love, it's me," You shift him a bit to get a better hold on him, "I'm taking you back to our room,"
He nods and lets his arms dangle under him, "You're so amazing, you know that," he murmurs, "So...so...amazing,"
You laugh, "Thank you, baby,"
Five takes a bit of your dress in his fingers, "Is this the one I bought you?"
"Bought?" You chuckle, "You mean stole, but yes,"
Five sighs happily, resting his head on your chest and looking up at you, "You're so pretty," his smile is dreamy, "I love you so much,"
You smile and finally reach the room, you faze in and walk over to the bed, laying Five down.
His body relaxes into the mattress as he sighs in bliss. You slowly help him take off his shoes and vest before helping him change into more comfortable clothes.
"I love you," he mumbles for the 10th time, "I love you so much,"
"I love you too," you smile, quickly changing your own clothes using your speed, Five smiles.
"I love your power," he picks at his nail slightly, "It's so beautiful and powerful,"
You smile, "Yours is too," you lay down next to him, "Now sleep honey, it'll be alright,"
Five hugs you like a koala, arms around your chest, legs around your waist, "I'm so glad I get to spend my final days with you," he mumbles, "I love you,"
You kiss him softly, "I love you too, now rest,"
Five nuzzles into your chest. You smile and run a hand through his hair, listening the the noises of the kugelblitz outside.
"I wouldn't mind trying one last time," you mutter, "You're worth saving, my love,"
Five makes a noise in his sleep and you smile,
"Sweetest of dreams, Number Five," you kiss his head, "I will always be with you,"
———————❖———————
I love writing this one! It was so cute and fluffy! I tired to add some humor but idk how I did. Requests are still open so feel free to send in some more! Also, a part three to Mindless will be out soon so look for that. Thanks again for reading!
835 notes · View notes
Note
Five in a time line where reader doesn't know him? Kind of like Klaus and what's his faces relationship???????
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Haven't written this in ages
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He doesn't take it well at all
He's never loved someone the way he loves you, so when he does go into a time line where you've never even met him, he freaks out internally
Though, then he starts to think that maybe this is a good thing
He knows everything about you. Your likes, dislikes, embarrassing memories, insecurities, hobbies, etc [I think you get my point]
^ He can use this knowledge and use it to make himself seem like the perfect guy/boyfriend
While you did like him in his timeline, there were moments where he wasn't the best boyfriend, but now he has a second chance
He'll 'accidentally' run into you and see you holding a book/sketchbook/notebook/journal [Whatever your interest is] and he'll pick it up before being like "Oh, you like ____? I like it, too. I can never find anyone else who likes _____"
He knows you're shy and easily scared/introverted, so he knows this is a hit or miss, but thankfully you take it really well. You were excited someone shared the same interest as you. You start babbling about it, while asking if he wanted to get a drink or food
He's quick to take up the offer. He didn't want to waste a second with you
You do think he moves incredibly fast. You never had a guy like him show such an interest in you, so you're taken aback by his enthusiasm
He doesn't want to scare you, but he can't help himself
He does begin to scare you when you realize he knows everything about you
He doesn't tell you about his powers, until you start to avoid him in fear
You're surprised when he appears in your room, going through your drawers, before tossing you your journal/diary
"You should put a lock on that"
"How- What are you- How did you get into my room?"
He sits on your bed, ignoring you
"Hello? Five?"
He looks at you, holding one of your stuff animals in his hands. If you had known he would sneak in your room, you probably would have hidden that.
"Why have you been avoiding me?"
"What?"
He gets off the bed, stepping closer to you, until your back hits the wall. He throws the stuff animal over his shoulder, before making direct eye contact with you. "Why. Are. You. Avoiding. Me?"
"I-I-I ha-haven't be-been doing that- Avoiding you I mean-" You stutter over your words, causing him to deeply frown
"Don't patronize me. I'm not fucking stupid."
"I've been busy," You quickly lie, mentally applauding yourself for coming up with that so quickly
"Doing what?" Five humored you, deciding he'd try and let you defend yourself. Maybe you weren't avoiding him. Maybe he was being paranoid
"Things?"
He groans, looking away from you, annoyed. Why were you really avoiding him? He thought things were going great? But apparently he was wrong...
What he didn't realize is that he was coming on to strong
There was silence in the room and you were scared, because he still hasn't said anything and he's not looking at you
Finally, after what feels like eternity, he speaks
"Can I tell you something-Well, let me showing something."
You were a little confused, but he pulls you towards the bed and pushes you down. He takes a deep breath, before making direct eye contact with you.
"You can't freak out. Promise me?"
"It can't possibly be that bad-"
"I'm serious. Promise me"
''Fine. I promise."
You think he's over exaggerating and blowing this out of proportion, until he fucking disappears
You look around the room confused and then he suddenly appears behind you, holding a soda. It was the one you had downstairs that you had been waiting all day to drink
"How did you do that???"
"It's complicated," He tells you, rubbing the back of his neck
"That's so cool!"
You ask him to do his talent over and over. At first he was annoyed, but then he realizes that you were probably going to break up with him, but now you were more interested in him than you've ever been
You practically become obsessed with him
He doesn't mind, in fact he finds it hot. His timeline version of you was never obsessed with him. You were just a lovely couple, but this version of you was practically as bad as him and god he loves it so much
He wants to keep you forever
And he will. You're never getting away from him
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froggoon · 3 months
Text
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。
She's my Angel I Five Hargreeves x Reader
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。
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⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚
Post Apocalypse Au! pt.2
WC: ~3,258 Warnings/Tags: Sexual Tension, Mentions of Abuse, Agedup!Five, Mentions of previous trauma, 18+
Summary: The Umbrella Academy saved the world, the Commission is no longer after them, the moon is in one piece and everyone’s lives start to fall back into place. Five attempts to start his life over again when Klaus brings home a girl with unusual shadow powers. ⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。
˚
The Apocalypse was over and Five Hargreaves did what he did best, drink and cope. The first few weeks of freedom he tried things he had missed early on in his childhood. It started when Viktor took him shopping for a new, more appropriate wardrobe, that someone who looked his age would wear. Then he would often visit the park just to admire the beauty of places that were once a baron landscape. And sometimes he just spent his time reading catching up on what he missed in the last few years.
But old habits die hard when you spend 54 years alone and the next 2 weeks desperate to save yourself and save your family. Maybe Klaus was right when he called the apocalypse his drug because, for a while, it was all he’d ever know.
Five hadn’t slept well in a long time and despite his newfound freedom without the looming feeling of impending doom. He would find himself waking up at 4 am to check his window and just to see if everything was real.
The Academy had been empty for a bit, the first week his family had stayed back to collect themselves, celebrate, and appreciate one another but slowly their lives fell back into place. Allison went back to Claire wanting to get back her career and her daughter back. Luther wanted to find his independence and took a small helping from his inheritance to live on his own. Diego and Lila had also moved out in hopes of continuing to grow their relationship and perhaps find happiness in normalcy. Viktor, now confident in himself wanting to explore the world more began traveling and meeting new people. To Five it felt like everyone had moved on, except him. He had been the one to jump through time, and now he felt like he was stuck in it.
However this morning, his silent coffee and breakfast time was interrupted but a surprisingly sober Klaus barging through the door with a girl no taller than 5’3 who looked as if she had been dragged through the mud and a forest in his arms.
“I didn’t know where to bring her she ran into me frantic and couldn’t speak much,”
“There wasn’t anyone chasing her so I have no idea where she came from and she’s in pretty bad shape.”
Klaus looked panicked, he felt bad for the beat-up girl in his arms but what could he do besides bring her to the place he knew could help her best.
Grace and Pogo immediately took action, bringing the girl into the spare room to care for her wounds.
“What makes you think you can just bring random people in here? She could be dangerous?”
Five arched his eyebrow at Klaus’s behavior. He wasn’t a trusting man but he trusted his brother’s intuition and the girl genuinely looked like she needed help.
“I couldn’t just leave her on the road. I’m not a bad person Five. There’s something different about her I swear.”
Five looked distrustful at what his brother was saying.
“Well, we’ll just have to see when she wakes up.”
The two went back to doing their own things in the Academy waiting for you to wake up.
————————-3 days later————————
The sun shone brightly in the room you stayed at. Your eyes slowly opened, blinking harshly to adjust to the shining light. You had no idea where you were, this new place was uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Warm wood furniture decorated the walls, and the mattress you slept on seemed more comfy, soft, and warmer than your old hay-filled cot. Unsurprisingly your wounds ached but were clean nevertheless. You jumped when the door swung open to reveal a monkey? no an ape? in a suit. "Ah you're finally awake, Ill let the others know"
"I am Pogo by the way, please rest, we don't want your stitches reopening." Maybe it was the exhaustion catching up to you, but you listened to his words and laid back, staring at the large high ceilings waiting to see if whoever brought you here would be your like your old doctors. Back downstairs Pogo noticed Five pacing around in the living room. "Any troubles worrying you?" "Yes that girl, I can't find any information about her, she had no ID, no name card, I even looked around the area trying to track back where she came from, and nothing." Five glanced around, more cautious of his surroundings
"What if the commission sent her?" "This is not good, not good at all"
And with a quick turn, he teleported to the room of which his unwelcome guest occupied. A flash of blue interrupted your daydreams when a boy about your age in a green flannel, cargo pants, with slightly long side parted hair entered your space. Besides appearing out of nowhere he looked almost normal, but that didn't stop you from being scared. Shivering you pushed yourself back on the bed as far as you could to try to get away from him. Sensing your fear Five held out his hands as a way to show you some form of peace. Lowering one hand he slowly approached you. But the closer he came the farther back you shuffled. Something wasn't right Five thought. You were terrified of him, what had happened to you to cause you to be in such a state.
Hey Im not going to hurt you, I don't know who you are but Im not going to hurt you." Five could see that you weren't budging so he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hazelnut toffee-flavored candy. He wasn't a big fan of sweets but had kept some from his last visit to a local coffee shop. "Here you must be a little hungry, it's good to see." He popped it in his mouth to show her that it was safe, not a trick. Slowly you reached out and touched his hand, grabbing the little treat, unwrapping it before letting the gooey sweet melt on your tongue. Five smiled at your reaction. "See? It was good." He thought you looked adorable with big doe eyes waiting to see if he had any more. He reached into his right pocket and pulled out another handle full of candies. "Ill give you one each time you answer a question. Can you do that for me?" You nodded slowly. "Okay, can you tell me your name?" "Angel" you pointed to yourself "Five" you pointed to him. You had heard Klaus shouting his name when you entered the house. "Angel? Do you have a last time?" "Five. Five Hargreeves" He pointed to himself. "Angel" You repeated. Okay maybe you didn't have a last name that was fine, at least he had gotten a name. He gave you another candy and watched you excitedly open it. "Okay Angel, another question where did you come from? Who or what were you running from?" "Doctor" you responded looking down. "What Doctor? What did he do to you." You felt like you should have known better than to trust the boy in front of you, but he looked so earnest so sweet, that you decided to show him your secret. Opening your fist a ball of shadows appeared in your hand before you tossed it into the air letting whatever light was in the room dissipate. Five knew what this had suggested. Whoever took you, held you captive, and experimented on you. Perhaps they were trying to make you into one of the unlucky 43. Another candy was handed to you.
“Show me more” Five demanded. You blinked at him slowly before he put another candy in your hand. “Show me.”
You looked at him and brought both your hands up into the air. He watched shadows run from the ground into the room and swirl around you. It appeared you could summon shadows at your will and control them.
“Good girl” and another candy as placed in your hand. "Tell me, Angel, do you know where or who it was? Do you know the name of the commission?" You stared at him blankly not understanding what he said. Before Five could ask any more questions Klaus had burst through the door. "My Angel! You are okay !" As he rushed towards you to grab your face. Stunned you jolted back from his presence. "Angel, that's why she called herself that, it's not her name, it’s what you called her!" Five went to smack Klaus in the back of the head when his hand was stopped by a shadow. "No hurt, Klaus friend" With heart eyes, Klaus dove into Angel's arms "LOOK AT MY ANGEL PROTECTING ME!!" With the gentleness of a newborn deer, Angel reached out to Klaus with a small sweet in her hand. "Candy?" "For me? Of course, Angel thank you!" Rolling his eyes at the scene Five teleported to his room to think. Where had this girl come from she had no name could barely speak and had a dark power with unknown consequences. Angel clad in Umbrella Academy uniform, and Klaus were in the living room when a flash appeared in the doorway. "Cinco! Where are you off to?" "Library I need to do some research." But just before he would reach for the doorknob a body was flung into his back. "Here take Angel with you, she needs a new set of clothes, can't have her wearing this uniform, you know all about that wouldn't you?" Klaus said as he shoved Angel forward. "I don't have time, I'm not a babysitter." Five expressed as he grabbed your arms and pushed you back. "Five...mad?" You looked up at Five with tears in your eyes. Reaching out to his face with his hand you softly pet his cheek. "Five...happy. Happy"
The time travelers face softened at the kindness you showed while trying to console him.
“I’m sorry Angel, yes Five is happy. Come on let’s go.”
He grabbed your hand ignoring the feeling of his heart when your soft skin wrapped around his.
————————-In the Car—————————
“Alright Angel, as cute as you look in the uniform we have to get you some normal clothes.”
Five looked over at you, but you were looking out the window. His green eyes passed over the cuts on your legs and the faint but visible bruises on your neck. It wondered him how someone could do this to you, turn a girl who seemed like an Angel into a shadow user. He parked the car at Gimble's before flashing to your side of the door to open it, Five was still a gentleman after all. "Okay now Angel, we're here to buy you some new clothes." You nodded your head to show you understood him and hopped out of the car excited to see the world around you. Being locked up for so long you had forgotten what the outside world looked like. Today the sky was blue with warm gusts of winds filling the air. People and families were seen chattering about. You reached out to grab Five's arm and pulled him closer to the store. Five chucked at your childlike antics, letting himself be whisked away by you. You dragged him to the dress section; some of the kinder doctors had given you books to look at to pass the time, many of them being princess books. There were cute frilly dresses that caught your eye immediately. Rushing forward you grabbed 3 dresses that might have suited you. With a sigh Five grabbed your shoulders wanting to tell you to go find some more practical everyday clothes. But after seeing the glimmer in your eye as if you found the most priceless thing...he couldn't bear take that away from you. "Come on Princess, let's go try them on." He ushered you to the changing room and waited outside. As he turned his back you grabbed his hand, but Five had yanked it back at the unexpected contact. He wasn't completely used to physical touch yet.
Ignoring this you grabbed his hand once more and tried to take him into the dressing room with you. "No Angel I can't go with you, just put on the dresses inside and Ill wait out here."
You had refused to let go of his hand. With another sign he allowed himself to be pulled into the confined space of the changing room. You quickly shimmied out of the uniform skirt and tie throwing it into a random corner. Five's face turned a deep scarlet red, although he was an older man the sight of your small and barely clothes body was enough to make him shift in his pants. Before he could embarrass himself any further he blinked out into the waiting room fanning his face as if he ran a marathon. There were small warning signs in his brain, don't get too attached, she doesn't know better, please don't get a boner right now. Trying to collect himself he put his hands in his face wanting to be anywhere but here right now. You interrupted his train of thought when you came out bouncing with a big smile on your face. The dress you picked out was a cute white summer dress that was white had thick straps tied on your shoulders. The skirt part stopped right above your knees and flared out with a twirl. You looked absolutely adorable, an Angel who wielded the power of a devil. "You look...beautiful" Five muffled through his hand. "Beautiful?" You questioned. "Yes you, Angel, you are beautiful." And as if your smile couldn't get any bigger, you ran and jumped into Five, his arms slowly wrapping around your frame to prevent you from falling.
"Five! Beautiful!" You smiled and pointed at him. Your fingers had graced his cheeks into a smile. Pointing at his dimple "Five! Beautiful" you repeated. "Oh, you think I'm beautiful Angel?" Five couldn't help but also feel happy and continue smiling, something about you felt like a breath of fresh air. His last few weeks had been nonstop paranoia and feeling the effects of an identity crisis, but hearing your laughter and seeing you call him beautiful, it felt as if he was actually living again. However, that didn't stop the nagging fear in the back of his mind of where you came from and what had happened to you. Perhaps it was the assassin in him that just couldn't let him...enjoy a moment. "Come on Angel, let’s get the rest of the dresses and pay. We need to head to the library before it closes." You nodded your head and skipped off to grab the rest of your dresses and clothes. You and Five stood at the cashier waiting to pay. "That will be 45.78." Five pulled out a 50 and felt your head lean on his shoulder. "Five, thank you." You looked up at him with a mischievous gleam in your eye. As he was retrieving his change you leaned up and placed your soft lips on the corner of his mouth. "Five happy?" He looked down at you and blushed "Yes Five is very happy." ————————The Library—————————- You were sat in Five's lap flipping through a picture book while he was doing research. Unfortunately, there was almost no information about any kind of suspicious activities in the area where they had found you or even how you even got to the city. Five had to expand his research on places that might have to do with experimental tests but with so little access he was found himself at a dead end. "Nothing! Absolutely Nothing!" Five yelled before slamming his notebook on the table. You jumped in his lap and covered your ears, eyes filling with heavy teardrops waiting to fall. "Shit Angel Im sorry come here." He cooed wrapping his arms around you for the fourth time today. Five pressed a kiss to the top of your hair and inhaled slowly. You smelt like a blooming meadow and a hint of cinnamon. Closing his eyes he rested his head on yours. It wasn't been often when he felt a peace like this, heck he didn’t even remember the last time he felt calm, other than when he was drinking or passed out after a mission. Your eyelashes fluttered on his neck as you began to press small kisses on his jawline. "Come on Angel what are you doing?" "Make Five happy. Kiss you" You mumbled and continued leaving marks on his neck and jaw. Five clenched his fists around you "Angel if you keep this us I'm not going to be able to hold back." Five groaned as he pulled you closer into his lap. And with his last bit of resolve, he blinked you guys back into the car. "Come on Angel let's go home." He kissed your cheek slightly to assure you he wasn't mad and drove the two of you back. ————————the academy———————--- "Mi hermano and Angel ! You guys are back" Klaus shouted from the couch he was currently lying on. You ran into the living room jumping in front of Klaus to show off your dress.
"My cutie Angel! You look so pretty!"
Klaus then swept you off your feet and into a fit of giggles. Five, who had been observing the scene from the bar was actively trying to fight off the green monster that was creeping up his heart. "Leave her alone Klaus we had a long day. Come on Angel let's have your shower and get ready for bed." It was obvious you needed to be cared for and Five had already begun to assume the role. Pulling out some extra pajamas Five had in his wardrobe he handed them to you before showing you the bathroom. "Shower here and come back to my room when you are done okay?" You nodded back and went into the bathroom. With a sign Five flopped on his back in bed wondering more about you. How could someone he just met cause him to feel such a way? Maybe it was his messed up time-traveling brain that was causing these emotions but deep down he knew he had a hidden attraction to you. He began to think more about your powers. You couldn't be part of the 43 because you were too young but you also showed an understanding of your abilities and more control than Viktor did when he first found out about his. Five would have to talk to you after you shower about your abilities. Small footsteps padded outside his room before stopping. The door swung open and there you stood wrapped in only a small towel Grace had given you. Five green eyes turned wide as you skipped into his room.. You had turned to grab the pajamas he had left you on the bed and dropped your towel. Five sat up instantly, his eyes wandered over the curve of your breasts and the plumpness of your backside. Being in the apocalypse and focused on getting back home to his family never allowed him much time for romance or women, besides Delores. You stood up as bare as the day you were born, nipples perked up at the cold air and you put the silk top and bottom on. Now properly clothed you turned to Five who was staring at you with eyes that rivaled a burning sun. In a blink, he was in front of you grabbing your waist with such a force it felt like you would disappear if he let go. Bringing his lips to your neck he kissed gently and dragged his face to meet your eyes. Soft despreate lips met plump shy ones as you and Five melted into each other. The kiss grew hungry, more desperate, both parties missing the feel of one another. The two of you fell back onto the bed with Five on top of you. Two souls both isolated from the world finally finding solstice in one another. All the questions Five had for you were gone from his mind, the only thing replacing it was the thought of how your body felt against his. A small hand reached into the front of Five's pants. "I want to help Five" You had whispered into his ear. It was going to be a long night.
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ Authors note : I kinda of wrote this on a whim in the middle of the night. I’d want to make this into a full series although and go really in depth about Angel who she is and how she got her powers and I defiantly want to bring back the rest of the Hargreaves but I'm not sure when Ill have another creative burst.
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yandere-toons · 7 months
Text
KLAUS HARGREEVES
Platonic & Romantic Headcanons - Yandere
WARNING: substance abuse, bloody violence, references to child abuse and neglect, self-harm and suicidal ideation, sexual references, mentions of religious concepts.
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PLATONIC:
Hugs, where he snuggles up with his whole body, are his favourite way to greet the one he has so fondly dubbed his truest friend. Klaus shuts out all other communication and responsibility, preferring to laugh with them and grasp for any reason to keep the conversation going. He makes no apologies for his enthusiasm and, if only privately, ridicules those who frown on his behaviour.
A snack or nightcap that happened to be on hand serves as his excuse, but in reality, Klaus is looking for any opportunity to lean in and show how attentive he can be. Klaus will endure an inordinate amount of hostility before he recognises that it's more than a lapse of affection. Even so, he assumes the fault rests squarely on his shoulders and scrambles to be more forthright in his attempts to praise and help.
Sleep exhausts him more than life unless Klaus downs a shot of liquid courage and passes out on his friend, calling their heartbeat the best sedative. He finds comfort in entangling himself with them: then the slightest movement will alert him to a disturbance or an attempt to leave, and he won't have to wake up alone, wondering if he's hallucinated it all.
When his friend exits the room, Klaus jumps up from whatever compact position he's been sitting in and hurries after them. Even if his question about going out together fetches an unequivocal "no," Klaus reacts with joy, as if he's snagged a resounding "yes," and continues to follow at their heels until they reach their destination.
Whether it's throwing himself into the back seat of their car just before they drive off or physically clinging to them, Klaus insists on not being separated for even a minute. Anything longer than a few seconds of uninterrupted silence discomforts him, so he is eager to fill that time with stories of his bizarre visions.
If Klaus's friend lands in a scuffle, he enables them by shouting words of encouragement for them to hit the other. For Klaus to strike, the friend must either ask him to do so or catch him in a moment of extreme distress. Once the altercation is over and Klaus's friend emerges victorious, he approaches the opponent and taunts them quietly, if possible extinguishing his cigarette on their skin.
Suppose his friend loses or appears to be struggling. In that case, Klaus will call upon his brother Diego to intervene with deadly force. Klaus frames this as a personal favour between brothers, but Klaus has, at best, a tenuous intention of repaying Diego, unless what Diego asks for comes in the form of pills or powder. This becomes clear when Klaus decides not to stay for the end of the fight and leaves with his friend to pour a celebratory drink.
Being a bystander in the fight means staying behind Klaus while he holds out his arm like a seatbelt. Klaus believes he has failed to fulfil his sole purpose in life and is therefore unworthy to live, so at the first sign of danger, he will sacrifice himself for one of the few people who have not yet written him off.
Klaus enjoys swapping gossip and bad memories of questionable validity about how awful the person was. He even steals valuables from the person's house, small enough to fit in his coat pocket, and then splits the reward with his friend, distracting them with compliments and jokes in hopes that they won't confront him about the crime.
If the friend presses him hard, Klaus will hand over the stolen goods but will argue that he is thieving solely in their best interest. If you wait a day or more to ask him about it, Klaus will have the time he needs to pawn off all the stolen goods and double down on the lie that someone else is to blame.
Hearing a good song, Klaus will try to dance with his friend. Humour him or not, Klaus improvises a whole routine and "accidentally" plants his elbow in the ribs of everyone he suspects has the same dance partner in mind. He makes a point of swaying in his friend's line of sight and slides into the way each time they venture out.
Despite this, Klaus is the first to flee and invent insults against the others for smothering him. Should the people claim that Klaus is the real hanger-on, that his friend stays with him out of pity rather than necessity, he lashes out in a burst of verbal and physical rage at whoever said it last.
Acts of impulse serve as a cornerstone of his fragile attachment. In a more domestic setting, Klaus falls into their lap on the pretext that his family is hogging all the chairs. Kisses blown across the room, closer if his friend asks for such things, earn him much derision from his siblings.
No matter how much Ben gags in his ear, Klaus pays no mind to his antics and gradually isolates himself from those who challenge his view of the relationship. He has had enough of being expected to validate his every choice in his family's eyes and declares that he will never again bring his friend round the mansion. When questioned as to his motives, Klaus is unusually honest about his preference for them over his family.
Klaus jokes that, even in death, he will hold them to all the promises they made in life. He warns them not to bunk with other spirits, as he has dedicated a La-Z-Boy and a bottomless supply of pizza to them in his afterlife. One-on-one existence, where his dream could never again be taken from him, is his paradise, and the resurrection, the gasp of loneliness that comes with leaving such a world, takes more from his heart than any bullet.
As someone whom the dead haunt like a shadow, Klaus will continue to talk to his friend long after their death. Everyone else can only watch and guess at his condition as he chats with empty air about what to eat that day. Klaus is well aware that his friend is dead and that no one else can see them now, but it gives him more reason to include them in conversations with others.
This is how he soothes his grief and tells himself that despite the new barrier, he can still socialise with them and, at least for a few blissful minutes, pretend that everything is as it should be. If anyone is angry with him for this, Klaus teases them: in his eyes, they are shamelessly envious that he has such a loyal friend.
ROMANTIC:
Playdates with his abrasive family are a necessary evil, but as soon as his partner leaves, Klaus waves goodbye to his siblings and follows. He packs his nonexistent bags and sets off, unable to trust that his partner won't realise he does more harm than good and abandon him while they're apart.
Klaus fears his attachment—he worries that by revealing its burning intensity and seeking appreciation, he is inviting future rejection. Every time Klaus takes such a risk, he anticipates problems in the relationship that will exceed his abilities and expose his incompetence. Consequently, he may attempt to sever the connection before it has the chance to evolve.
Throughout Klaus's existence, fortune has conspired against him, divine intervention has been a lie, and karma has overdosed him twentyfold before granting him another fleeting sense of hope. Any individual who treats Klaus as anything more than his father's failed experiment and values him for reasons beyond his powers which he so loathes must be clueless.
However, Klaus notes, they must also be a finer person than himself, one to whom he could never measure up, and for whose sake he would mutilate himself at a moment's notice. Anyone who hurts them is beneath contempt, a bastard whom he would gladly let burn in a fire of their own making.
Klaus dreams up an intricate history of conflict and pleasure in case he has to step into the role of a jilted ex and deliver a heart-wrenching story to win that coveted second chance. He dallies in places frequented by his partner to catch them alone, spilling his deepest affections, hoping that one day, even if a thousand lifetimes from this one, they will embrace him once more.
For Klaus, eye contact with his partner means that they find him the opposite of repulsive and are open to seeing more of him, a feat he cannot even allow himself. At the slightest hint of their presence, he casts a wistful stare that, when interrupted, turns listless and dejected. It is this ingrained hesitancy to trust his own judgement that causes him to doubt his right to exist until another sees him and proves that he deserves life.
Klaus chases this meaning as he often has the bottom of a bottle, languishing in every sense of the word until he may experience it again. Perhaps a glaring difference in interests leaves him at a loss as to how to bond, such as if his partner turns out to be a grease monkey. In this scenario, Klaus resorts to conning a mechanic's shop into giving them lessons.
He deliberately injures himself, making sure that some part of his body is streaming blood, and then claims that an employee assaulted him. The act is contrived to arouse sympathy for him and punishment for another, replete with tears, dramatised accounts of every blow dealt, and threats when no one else is listening.
Klaus pretends he is too disoriented from blood loss to walk on his own and insists he must hold on to his partner when he stands. He grossly exaggerates the time and energy needed to recover, suggesting they carry him in their arms and focus all their attention on him until he "feels better."
Claiming that insensitive siblings will only aggravate his fragile state, Klaus plays up the injury and groans his way into his partner's abode. There, in the bedroom or on the couch, he finds his strength, undresses with a quickness he previously thought lost, and makes every effort to seduce.
Each day reminds Klaus how readily most people dismiss him as a useless junkie, so much so that he struggles to see the point of recovery. He considers his perceived attractiveness to be his one redeeming quality or, at the very least, the only quality that elicits positive reinforcement from others. Thus, he often sees his body as all he can offer in terms of incentive to stay with him.
When an attempt fails or, worse, is so unsuccessful that the relationship is jeopardized, Klaus rushes to propose alternative forms of intimacy: sleeping in the same bed from now on or spooning for a couple of days. In the meantime, Klaus worries inwardly that he is no longer desirable and fears for his ability to maintain his partner's interest.
That afternoon, Klaus presents them with a cocktail he swiped from Reginald's stash or a local bar, dressed in clothes he snatched from their bedroom without asking. Klaus is down to share a bottle of hard liquor, but addiction is the price he alone must pay for all his mistakes.
When his partner has similar issues, he takes the bottle and pitches all the street drugs, forcing the substance into his own veins when he needs to remove it completely from their reach. Klaus would rather bear the pain of another overdose than risk that for his partner.
Suppose the two have five dollars between them; the partner wishes to use it for a packet of cigarettes, while Klaus wants to put it towards a rice cake to split. Given the risk of disappointing them or starving, Klaus will suffer an empty stomach until he keels over. Once they look pleased, he can always shoplift the odd armful of crisps from a convenience store.
As the days turn to weeks, Klaus finds that less and less of life brings him the high he feels when he is near his partner. Nothing inspires the same happiness, and everything that used to thrill him has dulled. For Klaus, the whole of his life's worth depends on whether his ardour is reciprocated. If not, if he has devoted so much only to humiliate himself again, then the world of the living is no place for him.
Seeing how his family treats him like a ghost, Klaus trusts no one would mourn him if he vanished and never found his way back. At least, in death, he could enjoy a moment's peace and await the day when the one in whose steady hand he put forth his heart, freshly torn from his chest, would visit him.
Gone is the will to eat save for a cold waffle here and there, drinking himself into a nonstop bender that aims to drive out his heartache but instead only deadens it. Wrapped in a memento he never takes off to keep up the semblance of closeness, Klaus lingers at their final resting place so as not to miss any effort at contact.
It is not at all uncommon to find Klaus hungover, musing that perhaps if he dies in the same place, he can follow them to the other side. The more breath leaves his body, the closer their touch, telling him if he falls a little deeper, he can be with them. Whether it's a pipe dream or a drug-induced flashback, which Klaus is no longer able to tell apart, he resists coming out of it until a defibrillator or stomach pump forces him back to reality.
Each time the Maker rides to him on Her dirt road, there comes the possibility of a reunion. At his lowest, Klaus stops his heart for this exact purpose, or rather, he welcomes a moment in the hereafter with one who eases his burden of life.
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Do anything you want with my work, but never make me boring!
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