𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒 [Five x Reader]

Number One

Scrawny - Wallows
(Watch the video)

Holocaust. Rumble. Bombs. Tanks. Five. A random girl. Wait, what? Five's eyes wandered at everything surrounding him. The heavy sandbags used as protection against bullets that stacked from two to three. The people crouched behind them. His family that fought off against the Russians. God, everything was a mess and he witnessed all of it. The huge nuclear mushroom cloud that fell overhead of the small town. Had he not warped away with Hazel, he would've been dead meat.

He did think about that strange girl that fought off with his family. He didn't recognize her from anywhere and she certainly wasn't family. She was scrawny looking, but she was on the radar of attractiveness for sure, and he didn't know how to react to his teenage hormones raging and going through puberty twice. Albeit, under completely different circumstances.

...

My dad came back from the roof and I yawned, continuing to stare at the ceiling fan. The only source of entertainment in the room. I heard a knock from the front door's window and I stood up to get it, my dad not too far behind. I opened the door to see a teen with brown hair and hazel-like eyes with a uniform on. I gave an questioning stare.

"What do you want?" I blinked. He smiled an almost fake smile but seemed pleased that I answered the door. "Hi, I'm selling encyclopedias for my youth group. I was curious if-" I shut the door on him and leaned against the counter with my head down. Suddenly, the boy showed up in front of me.

I looked up to see the boy there, staring at me intently. My eyes widened and my dad was spewing out little sounds of surprise and shock. I grinned in amusement and stifled a laugh. The boy was confused, like, really confused and to be frank, I was too. I banged on the counter with my fist and snorted. He rose a brow. "Are you done?" He asked.

"Yep." I got off the counter and popped the 'p'. "Good, because-" "How'd you do that?" My dad asked and held up a butter knife. We both turned to him and I snatched the knife from his hands and slammed the drawer he'd gotten it from shut. "You're not fooling anyone, Pa." I rolled my eyes and turned back to the boy.

"Okay...what are you doing here and how did you do whatever it is you did that my dad saw?" I shot him an intimating and accusing glare. "Don't really have time to explain," He shrugged. "You from the Pentagon?! Huh?!" My dad growled. "Definitely not." I eyed him and shook my head and, in turn, the boy gave me a wry smile.

"CIA? FBI. KGB?" Dad listed. The boy ignored the questions and glanced at me. "Is that fresh?" He pointed to the coffee and warped in front of the dining table, taking the coffee brewer and pouring some coffee into a mug. Dad screamed and panted, following his every move. The boy pretended to be as oblivious to his fear as he could and I just watched the whole scene play out, drinking my own coffee.

"So, this is what it's come to." I sighed into my mug and walked into the living room, the brunettes eyes followed. He soon followed behind and hummed. "This Colombian?" He asked, holding up his mug. "It's my own blend. Pretty nice, huh?" I grinned and he nodded, muttering something about decent coffee. He eyed the papers on the wall and walked towards one.

"Those are, in case you didn't know or you've been living under a rock, newspaper clippings..." I whispered to him. "How ironic." He muttered to himself inaudibly. [AHAHAHAHA, YOU GET IT? 'CAUSE VANYA BLEW UP THE MOON? Okay, I'll stop now.] He glanced at me from the corner of his eye and turned around, looking across the room and its hundreds of newspaper clippings on the walls all over the house.

"You ever heard of Area 51? Roswell?" He smirked and walked around. My dad scoffed and chortled. "Hot damn!" He yelled. "Language." I warned. The boy gave me a weirded out stare. "What? It's not nice." I shrugged and finished my mug. "That's not what-whatever, I don't have time for this." He mumbled to himself. "See, I always knew we weren't the only ones!" Dad cheered.