Summary: Finally you catch up with Five, however it’s not the meeting you imagined when you gave him that note.
Words: 1,414
Warnings: Slight Misogyny per era, Embarrassment.
It’d been a few days before you’d caught Five again, however you have to physically catch him in the lunchroom. He’s sitting at the end of one of the tables alone. The rest of the room buzzing with excitement as employees mingle with one another. A group of men sitting a few feet down the long table eye him weirdly. Across the room at another table, a group of girls stare at him curiously. Sliding into the seat right in front of him, you slap your tray down with a thudthat surprisingly doesn’t even come close to the tumultuous volume of the cafeteria. “You’re ignoring me,” you state plainly, glaring at him as he slowly raises his eyes from his sandwich to you, “we still have work to do, Five.”
i really like how you write five five being an asshole is always fun to read lol
@deathcure5 thank you so much! Haha, I totally agree. He’s the most fun to read when he’s like that and I feel like that’s just- how he is a lot of the time.
This is my first Umbrella Academy imagine. This is definitely a part 1, I just haven’t decided whether tp make it a mini-series or a full blown series yet. I hope you enjoy, you can find my updated master-list here.
Being one of the Hargreeves kids was no easy task. It meant constant training and missions along with the impossible standards. But you never complained, instead, you decided from an early age that you were going to do your best to be there for your siblings. Your powers were empath/healing. For people you don’t know, you have to maintain a physical connection with them to read/impose emotions. But for those you knew, you could read them just by looking at them. Sometimes, you could feel the distress without looking at them, it just really depended. So far, in comparison to the others, this power proved useless in missions so you were only ever called in after. Your dad had said that you just needed to unlock more of your potential and that you weren’t trying enough. But you were, you really were trying as hard as you could. You just wanted to be with the others.
Over the years you got used to it. You would sneak around at night and check in on your siblings, taking away any soreness they had from training and making sure they never had to face any nightmares. It wasn’t much, but it was better than doing nothing. None of them were ever any the wiser as you would purposefully slip in and out without waking them.
This went well until one night when you realized Klaus was not in his room. It wasn’t long before you felt it. He was scared, terrified. You went to Pogo and asked where your father had taken # 4. Pogo was hesitant to tell you, so you took his hand and projected just an instant of what Klaus was feeling. Pogo then explained everything.
You were extremely careful as you snuck out of the mansion. You felt so much anger towards your dad for putting Klaus through this. But that anger was overshadowed by your concern for your brother.
When you finally made it down to the cemetery, it wasn’t hard to find the tomb that Klaus was locked in. You struggled to open it and slipped inside.
“Klaus,” you said softly trying not to freak him out anymore.
But it was like he couldn’t hear you, not over all of the voices.
“Klaus,” you tried again, moving closer towards him.
When you didn’t receive a response you decided that there was only one way to get through to him. You gently reached out and held his hands in yours. Then you lived his nightmare with him slowly taking it away and replacing it with happy thoughts. Tears were running down your face as you felt to loneliness and fear.
“Y/n?” Klaus’ smaller than normal voice brought you out of your thoughts.
You wiped your tears and faked a smile towards your brother, “Yes Klaus?”
“Thank you,”
“Anytime,” you replied pulling him into a hug.
“Can we get out of here?”
“No, because dad would know and lash out”
“I-I can’t stay here alone, they’ll come back,”
“I’m going to stay here with you until morning. You aren’t alone,” you reassured.
The two of you talked for a while before you told him to try his best to get some rest. Which was an easy task once you used your powers on him. Everything was going fine until the exertion of using your powers earlier started to take over and you also fell asleep.
You woke up being ripped off the ground and away from Klaus.
“Number 8, this is simply unacceptable. I am so disappointed that you feel the need to continually disrupt your siblings’ training. I think it is time to take a more direct approach with you,” your dad spoke.
“Please dad don’t she was just trying to help,” Klaus pleaded.
“As for you number four, I think we will just be forced to extend your stay here.”
“Please, don’t, he doesn’t deserve this.”
But nothing either of you said would ever make a difference. Not to him. So you decided to do something you never would have thought to do before. You grabbed his arm and forced on him the emotions of his kids. The nightmares, the doubts, the fear, the isolation. Before you could continue you felt a small pinch in your neck and everything went black.
When you woke up, you were locked in a small room, with annoyingly white walls. The floor and ceiling were also white, your clothes were white. The only thing of color was an empty IV connected to your arm, which was odd, but you didn’t really care. Nothing mattered, not really, not anymore. You just felt empty and alone.
You were in that cell for 5 days and then you were allowed to return to your room which had been cleared of everything that you had once cherished. Grace came in to give you a vitamin explaining that it was supposed to help you. You swallowed it and laid down on your bed starring up at the ceiling.
Over the next few days, you refused to eat. You didn’t see a point in any of it. You didn’t feel anything. Klaus returned and locked himself in his room wishing that he could forget the last week of his life. But now that the voices were activated, they wouldn’t go away and he was too distraught to even consider learning how to control them.
Your siblings were told that you and Klaus went on a mission, one that did not go well. Reginald told them that neither of you were to be bothered. This naturally had the opposite effect.
Five was the first one who managed to see you. He blipped into your room and was shocked to see how bare it was, except the plate of uneaten food. You were just sitting on your bed staring at the wall.
“Y/n? Are you okay?” he asked.
But you didn’t even seem to register he was there. To say he was worried about you was an understatement. You were always the one that…well that didn’t matter. The point was that something was wrong and he needed to help you. He reached out for your arm, sitting on the edge of your bed.
“Oh. Hello, number five. I didn’t see you come in,” you said in a straight voice.
“Isn’t that an understatement,” he mumbled to himself, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m alright, how are you?” you said in a voice almost unrecognizable.
“Like you don’t already know,” he shot back trying to lighten the mood.
“I don’t, or I wouldn’t have asked,”
“What do you mean you don’t know? What happened to the empath powers?”
“I don’t have powers anymore,” you stated with indifference.
“Oh my god, Y/n I’m so sorry,” he said pulling you into a stiff hug. Your dad had said the mission went bad, but geez.
“Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why do you feel bad? I don’t feel anything, so why should you,”
“Listen- I don’t know what happened on your mission with Klaus, but we will figure it out, I promise.”
“What mission?”
Five was going to ask you what you meant, but before he could he heard someone coming and was forced to blip out of your room.
requested by: anon. i think i got a little carried away with this - he’s one of my favouritest characters ever. thanks for the request <3 warnings: this may seem a little… well, you know. but i promise, there’s nothing inappropriate here! besides, he is an old man.
At first, it’d be very uncomfortable to be around him at all. He’s like thirteen but speaks with a certain maturity that’s just very… odd. What kind of thirteen year old can have in-depth discussions about the Vietnam war and nineteen-forties politics as if he were there?
But then the Hargreeves would take you aside and explain that although he’s thirteen, and although he was born on the same day as the rest of them, he’s actually fifty-eight. Again, it’s odd and a bit scary at first, but when you think about it, it’s entirely logical.
You’d build a quick friendship when you finally understand him, and it’d catch fire quickly. You’d love to hear all his stories, his thoughts and terrifying knowledge of the apocalypse. But coming from an animated young man who had the patience of a grouchy old fogey, it was hilarious.
He’d get annoyed at you the first time you start laughing while he’s talking. He’d demand to know why, call you childish, and walk off. The irony would just make you cackle harder.
But soon, he’d begin to see your point. He’d crack a smile when he could see you trying to keep your laughter in, and although he’d get annoyed at your OAP jokes, he’d shake his head and let you have it.
But only you. If anyone else were to try the same, he wouldn’t have it. That’s when he’d know you were different, that he felt some type of way about you.
Soon it would come about that when you’re least expecting it, he’d randomly pop up by your side. Making dinner? You’d have to cook for two, just in case he showed up in the middle of your eating. Gonna take a shower? You gotta leave a note on the fridge, just in case he shows up and can’t find you.
Sometimes you’d get home from work and find a note on your fridge that you didn’t put there. It’d tell you to check the oven - and you’d find that he’d cooked dinner for you.
You’d never know, but he’d charge his siblings with making sure you’re okay when he’s off doing Five-things. You’d find that you’d have lunch dates with Allison more than before, and more than once you’d wake up in the night because of a fistfight outside your house. You’d lean out the window and tell Diego to go home.
Klaus would tease the both of you - it would rub Five the wrong way when he calls out “cradle-robber”, knowing fully it could apply to the both of you. You’d think it hilarious, which is just lucky because otherwise Five would grill Klaus for days.
You’d find yourself fitting into the dysfunctional family rather nicely, and you’re actually appreciated there - perhaps you’re a glint of that normality that they all miss out on. Perhaps its also because they’re glad someone can understand Five, and help him adapt to his weird situation.
Eventually, he’d have no choice but to tell you how he feels, lest he wants to suffocate in his feelings. He’d have tried to keep them in, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable or -god forbid- chase you away. But when he crashes your dinner and finds that you have a guy over for dinner (a guy your own age, dammit), his temperament would sour so quickly. He’d ask questions he didn’t want to know the answer to, and you’d be able to tell from how cold he was that he wasn’t alright. When he zaps away, you wouldn’t see him for another week. No notes, no random appearances, he’s not even around when you visit the Academy. Nothing.
It’s only when Allison talks to him about how hard he is to be around that he decides he needs to fix it. Well, she blackmails him. “If you don’t do it, I’ll hear a rumour and you’ll do it anyway.” He may or may not have thrown a coffee cup or two in frustration.
So he appears one evening, but this time, he only appears on your front step. He’d have to check from looking into one of the windows that it is where you live, because he’s never actually been stood outside it before - he just zaps right in. So when you answer the door, he’s both relieved and absolutely devastated.
You’d invite him in, very confused, and make him a cup of coffee. He’d drink it all and ask for another one before he even says a word about what’s on his mind.
When he does, it’s blunt. He explains why, and although you find it tremendously cute, he approaches it like a math question. Logical, systematic, trying to keep emotion out of it. But you can tell he’s nervous and upset, that this means a great deal to him. His voice is his typical explaining, analytical voice, but he clutches the coffee cup until his knuckles turn white and he struggles to meet your eye.
Understandably, you’d feel a little uncomfortable with his confession. On one hand he’s thirteen, but on the other he’s fifty-eight. Either way, it’s… uncomfortable.
But, you’d lean across the table, take his coffee cup, and place your hand over his. Clearly he’s suffering, knowing it can’t happen. But that doesn’t mean you have to be cold.
You’d smile at him, and he’d give a blue smile in return. You’d explain to him that it can’t happen, and of course, he’d nod. He knows.
You’d propose waiting for him - when he’s older, maybe you can give it a shot then.
He’d be so salty. “When I’m twenty-five I’ll be seventy, you know.”
You’d laugh at that, and he’d crack a smile at the familiar situation. You’d kiss his forehead before he goes, knowing it’d mean something different to him than it did to you. But what can you do in that situation?
Before long, things would be back to normal. He’d be irritable, though charming, and your best friend, though simultaneously a child and old man. He’d will himself to push through the days, waiting for the day he’s ‘older’, and would spend each of those days reaffirming you that you mean so much to him, dinner in the oven and sweets left on the table with a note. You mean the most.
A/N:this was supposed to be part of a set for the Hargreeves brothers (a little something about first kisses and it will be coming soon to a Tumblr near you) but Five’s turned out to be a little longer then expected…so he gets his own! For anyone wondering what caused the apocalypse in THIS timeline, it was once again the Umbrellas…but it was Y/N appearing suddenly thanks to Five’s powers that caused it to become messed up/looped.
In “Little Things” I wrote a bit about Five’s lost love, the one he’s been looking for…well, he finally found you.
Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader (gender neutral reader/no pronouns used).
Song: Waiting by Norah Jones.
“Hush now, watch the stars fall into a fire wall. I am waiting here, waiting for you to come home. Sinking embers glow, melting icy snow. And I am waiting here, waiting for you to come home.”
It had been so long and Five had missed you so, so much. Years ago, in a moment of teenage foolishness, he’d made a mistake:
He had run away with you.
It was so typical, wasn’t it? Young lovers breaking all of the rules together! Oh, they can’t tell us what to do, not anymore! He didn’t know what he was doing or where he was going, not back then, and he didn’t care…all he had wanted was you. But rather race off into the distant sunset as a red roadster sped down some desolate desert road or swallow poison together to die in one another’s embrace, the two of you had a more dramatic ending:
A/N: My first writing for The Umbrella Academy! I wanted to do something cute and sweet…so here are the little ways they would express their love for you…I want to write one for the Sparrows but I should probably wait until the new season begins.
Pairing: Luther Hargreeves x Reader; Klaus Hargreeves x Reader; Viktor Hargreeves x Reader; Allison Hargreeves x Reader; Diego Hargreeves x Reader; Number Five x Reader/ Ben Hargreeves x Reader (gender neutral reader/no pronouns used).
Luther knows how you take your tea. He noticed it the first time you stayed the night, arising in the early hours and sneaking into the kitchen together.
The others are (thankfully) still asleep, allowing the morning to unfold without the typical drama and danger. It’s just you and him. Leaning against the counter, Luther watches as you fill the light blue mugs (one with a little chip) mugs, steam dancing in the sunlight. You’re laughing softly at something Luther had said (he doesn’t even remember anymore, too lost in the beauty of your smile and the sound of your laughter) and he’s watching your hands.
Playing with the string of the teabag, picking up the spoon, stirring in sugar or honey or whatever you might like. He studies the gentle movement, just loving every second. And from then on, he never forgets how you take your tea.
Luther buys the types of tea that you like, keeping it in the back of a cabinet.
Beside it are two light blue mugs, one chipped and both waiting to be used. They are your mugs and no one else is allowed to touch them, lest they be tossed into the stratosphere. He knows the way you take your tea, he loves your little hands (they are his favorite part of you), and mornings like this are his favorite thing in the world. Quiet. Calm. He’s happy, he’s in love, and he wants for nothing except for you.
Luther expresses love by caring for you…even if it’s something as small as making you a cup of tea.
Klaus has a box of keepsakes. To anyone else, it’s just a shoebox full of random junk but to Klaus it is a love story. Every so often, he’ll pick something up to remember some special moment the two of you had shared.
A wrinkled napkin (taken from the diner where you’d met, your number still staining the off-white paper), a pressed rose (you gave it to him one night just because he loved roses), notebook paper covered in scribbled song titles (songs you liked or ones that reminded him of you), a shimmery black rock (from a midnight walk in the park).
They are reminders.
When he ishurting,when his heart is breaking and he’s lonely, Klaus opens the box and reminds himself that he is loved.
It’s there, that love, in all of the little thing’s he has collected over time. The rubber bracelet from a concert (it was your favorite band and, admittedly, he stole those tickets), the little love notes scribbled on scraps of paper (just because you wanted to remind him how much you adore him), a Skittles wrapper (you leave him candy on his pillow after you’ve spent the night), a torn butterfly wing (found in the garden and pressed in a glass locket you gave him), a broken ring (a cheap little thing that got tangled in his hair one night as you were making out).
Whenever Klaus is at his darkest, you bring him back into the light.
And these pieces of you are just that, little stars reminding him of the beauty and the wonder that exists within his heart.
You are his light, his love.
Viktor has a playlist simply titled “Y/N”. It’s a mess of music from different genres, nothing seemingly fitting together.
Some are songs you like.
Of course you bonded over music, an entire shelf of CDs lining his walls and boxes of vinyl records (he has a record player and everything, dancing with you to the oldies and the classics) in his apartment. Viktor wanted to know the music you liked and the music you hated, the song you were listening to over and over right now, all of it.
Some are songs that remind him of you.
The song that played in the coffee shop where you’d met or on the radio as you drove far, far away and left it all behind. Your first date (that same coffee shop, spending all night in a corner table talking), your first kiss (lingering in the doorway and wanting to make a move but being too scared…so you did it for him), the first time you saw him play (in the park at night, playing music beneath the moon and stars) and though he was beautiful.
He’s mesmerized every verse, finding little bits of you hidden within. And your favorite songs, he can play them all and will do so happily.
Music is a language to him.
It is art, it’s beauty, it’s hoping and hurting…and it’s love. The playlist, the lyrics, the songs he plays for you, it’s all ways of Viktor confessing his love for you over and over again. You are the music in his mind, playing ever on and one.
Allison buys you a bracelet. Actually, she buys two, one for you and a matching one for her. It’s a set from a high-end shop, handmade and beautiful. She bought them once for your one year anniversary, wanting so much to give you something special.
A silver band, the outside in smooth and plain.
But within the bracelet it a message engraved into metal. Allison wrote it on a piece of paper and the jeweler recreated it, her perfect handwriting engraved into silver.
A. H. + Y. N. Forever.
It’s the promise you’ve always made to one another, ever since the first night you kissed and confessed your love. All of her life had seemed so unstable, never knowing what was going to happen or what she was going to lose. And Allison had lost so, so much. But you aren’t going anywhere, not now and not ever.
“Do you love me?”
“Will you come?”
“Will you stay?”
And you answer it every time in the same way.
“Forever.”
You love Allison, you’ll find her no matter where she goes, and you’ll be by her side forever and over. And that one word brings her so, so much comfort.
Diego texts you first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He’s not always the most romantic guys but he does love you. Oh, he loves you so fucking much!
You are his first thought in the morning and the last before he falls asleep.
In the early morning, sunlight spills over the bedsheets. Diego is alone, the bed seeming so empty without you there…it’s a crappy apartment that he calls home, too small and too lonely, but he likes it better with you there. But you’re not here and he just misses you so much. Finding his phone tangled in the blankets, Diego smiles at his lockscreen (you smiling and him with his arms wrapped around you)
“Thinking of you, baby. Take care of yourself today.”
Most nights you spend with him, but it can’t always happen…at least not right now. So when you have to sleep in separate beds, Diego wants you to fall asleep knowing that he is thinking of you and loving you.
“Missing you so much. I love you, baby.”
Closing his eyes, Diego is exhausted and sleep comes quickly. He’ll be dreaming of you, at least until he can hold you in his arms once again.
Five keeps a note in his pocket. It’s a scrap of notebook paper, soft and yellowed with age. If you were to unfold it, you would see a single line of neat handwriting.
Y/N Hargreeves.
It could be your name, one day, and he could be yours. Maybe he’d have a name too. Maybe the tow of you could run away and be happy somewhere. He’d written in years ago, before he had vanished. In a silly moment of first love, he’d written it down in a notebook and imagined the what ifs…then he heard Luther and Diego clambering up the sitars and panicked, ripping it out of the notebook and hiding it away. Five never threw it away, folding it neatly and keeping it for himself.
It was still in his pocket when you vanished together, both disappearing into different timelines.
Every so often, Five would take out the note and let the dreams come back to him, silly fantasies pulling him through the nightmares.
He would find you again.
Whenever or whenever you were out there, Five was going to find you again. He would bring you home. And he was going to make all of those silly, sweet dreams come true. There was no power in the universe that could stop him.
Ben leaves you little things. Just random things that he hides around the place so you can find them from time to time.
Much like Luthor, caring for you is Ben’s way of expressing his love.
He’ll leave your favorite candy in your coat pocket or a little note to cheer you up. Sometimes you’ll find a wrapped present hidden somewhere in the house. He’ll ask you to grab a towel from the linen closet or hint that you should look in the cupboard…and you’ll find something there, a book you’ve been wanting or a teddy bear, anything really.
“Do you like it?”
Ben loves to spoil you, gift giving being a love language of his.
And when you gush over it, kissing his face sweetly, he cannot help but feel so, so happy…all Ben wants you is for you to be happy and to be his. And he’s always thinking of a way to make you smile, basking in the happiness of loving you.
The last gift he ever left for you was a love letter.
You found it a month after his death, hidden in a coat pocket. The familiar spiderweb handwriting is scrawled on light gray paper, a few scribbles between the his message. He loves you so much. You’re beautiful, perfect, his dream come true…and he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. And as you clutch the letter to your heart and sob, there’s nothing Ben can do to take care of you.
Five Hargreeves dating a short reader would look something like this…
Ok so before we start: Aidan Gallagher is 5’6 so let me just say you’d have to be pretty short to date Five.
He’d be a snarky shit though if you were dating him.
The poor man is stuck in his teenage body at the height of 5’6, all his siblings are taller than him but then you show up and somehow manage to be shorter than him?
He’s going to rub it in your face.
Like if you need to reach something from a higher shelf and you refuse to tell him.
“Do you need help with that?”
** cocky shit smirk **
“Not from you.”
** cocky shit smirk when he hands it to you **
“I could’ve reached it.”
“Could you though?”
“Shut up.”
Affection with Five is limited but forehead kisses are something he indulges in.
Benefits of being taller.
He’s definitely put his coffee mug on your head just to annoy you.
Making you line up at theme park rides and checking to see if you’re tall enough.
“I’m not under 5 feet, asshole.”
“Just checking.”
If it benefits him in some way during a job… he’ll say you’re his little sister or cousin.
“My little sister…”
“I’m going to strangle you.”
Doing everything together and you guys become Bonnie and Clyde 2.0 as Klaus puts it.
“Five, you just killed the board of directors!”
“Okay? And you killed the most people out of anyone in the commission!”
Requested:Hahaha no. Note: this is shit. it went from me thinking it was good to being absolute shit but i’m going to publish it anyway because :p
Summary:We go through such difficult times it’s a wonder how one continues on. A song fic for Come on Get Higher by Matt Nathanson.
I miss the sound of your voice
And I miss the rush of your skin
And I miss the still of the silence
As you breathe out and I breathe in
What gave someone the will to survive?
Most people would respond with family and most people would agree. Love, overall, was an honorable and driving reason to continue on when there appeared to be nothing left in the world. However, it took a certain type of person to continue on alone and still cling to survival in hopes of finding their loved ones.
Five Hargreeves looked far from the person who would know what love was. Anyone who knew him would go as far to say he would need to look the term up in a dictionary to even get a small glimpse of understanding.
This was far from true.
Not everyone showed love the same and everyone had a preferred way of being gifted it. For some it was hugs and kisses, their touch transferred love. For others, Five amongst them, love was shown and received in less obvious manners. They weren’t grandiose, most of the actions were hardly noticeable, but if someone squinted or held their gaze on it for more than a moment, they would see the love intertwined with the notion.
Five clung to the idea of his loved ones. It was the hope that he wouldn’t admit he had that pushed him to do the unthinkable in the scorching heat of apocalyptic ruin. His hope consisted of two categories; his family… and then you, someone who fell somewhere in between.
His dreams were bittersweet as they echoed your voice in his mind. Clear, calm and composed, you had spoken to him rather honestly. There was no need for laced sweetness or false tones, only your voice and the words that flowed from them. You never dragged on conversation when it wasn’t needed, you didn’t feel the need to speak when there was silence.
Your silence was calming.
He could remember countless hours spent in the library together, neither of you speaking, both of you drowned into another world whether mathematical or fictional or perhaps historical. Some would have argued the arrangement wasn’t bonding at all but to Five it was perfect. It was presence. It was peace. It was company. It was having someone by his side in peace and quiet as he dug into the philosophies of Plato or uncovering the secrets of the universe with Steven Hawkins.
The sun burning on his skin mirrored your touch, something he had taken time to accustom to. It had first been grazes of fingers between exchanges of items; books, napkins, dishes, pencils. Little things that had irked him and made his spine cringe. But soon it had progressed to high fives, fist bumps and bumped shoulders. Small things, pathetic things to some.
But not to him.
You were his best company. His favorite company. With you conversation came easy, silence was simple. If he had wanted to he could have listened closely and heard the beat of your heart and the soft inhales and exhales of your breathing. He didn’t know he could enjoy simply being with someone. It was nice knowing that he could solve theorems and equations, translate Latin and analyze Hemingway and have someone to explain what all of that meant to.
If I could walk on water
If I could tell you what’s next
I’d make you believe
I’d make you forget
There was a lot Five wished he could tell you.
He wished you knew that the moment he had jumped in time he had instantly regretted it. He wished you knew that only a few hours later he’d be sleeping in a pile of rubble salvaging burnt bread and dirty water in order to make it to the next day. He wished he could tell you about the coming apocalypse for you were the only person he could think of that wouldn’t immediately freeze. Whose mind would turn with possible solutions and perhaps the only person who would completely believe him.
Most of all, he wished he could tell you how sorry he was. Perhaps it was because he knew you would be the only one to accept it. He doubted if he even attempted to apologize he wouldn’t know where to begin or how to end but he knew, no hoped, that wouldn’t matter to you.
To you he wanted to stumble over his words as he tried to figure out how to express all the regret he felt. He wanted to break down or perhaps collapse in front of you because he was so fucking tired and you would make sure he could rest peacefully at least for a night. He wanted to mutter the words “I’m sorry” to you because they had once been hard for him to say but with you they came easy because with you he meant it.
But that would never happen.
If he was being truthful he hoped you would forget about him. It would be better off that way. Chances of coming home were slim and if the universe could send a message to you he’d ask it to let you know he was okay. Physically, at least. Or if miracles were real you’d move on and quit worrying for him like he knew you were doing. Love was giving back and he would do anything for you, search the depths of the known and cross into the unknowing in order to get back to you.
You were the first person to ever give back to him without getting something in return.
He figured someone that genuine would search the universe for him too.
The idea of it was pleasant but he hoped more than anything that you’d stop.
So, come on get higher, loosen my lips
Faith and desire and the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard
And drown me in love
Nights were easier with the shadow of you to accompany him.
Ghosts of memories lingered vaguely and he could remember those precious moments where his lips would upturn due to the little things you did. If you studied together, you always brought coffee for him. If you stayed up late together, you always made sure he ate. Your caring actions pulled his head out of the clouds consisting of logic and reason.
He craved your affection. He didn’t realize how much he’d miss it. His whole life Five had always thought he had taken care of himself. He never realized you carried a large weight that now fell back on his shoulders.
Being drowned in love seemed rather vulgar at first but he imagined your waters would bring a peaceful death.
So, come on get higher, loosen my lips
Faith and desire and the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard
And drown me in love
Delirium.
It forced loose smiles on his face from things that weren’t there.
Five was afraid he was beginning to imagine you. But was that all so bad? He was surviving and that was what mattered. After all, your ghost was pushing forward.
Funny, how even if you weren’t physically there you still looked after him.
I miss the sound of your voice
Loudest thing in my head
And I ache to remember
All the violent, sweet
Perfect words that you said
The sun only intensified the illusions his mind was stirring up.
Your voice in his head, he trekked from water to water, can to can. Searching for anything he could use to survive. He could imagine your sweet scolding; angered at him for being so reckless yet proud that he had accomplished what he had wanted. There would be no hatred between you two, only understanding, empathy, sympathy.
As there always had been.
You always understood.
If I could walk on water
If I could tell you what’s next
I’d make you believe
I’d make you forget
Months went on and each one stayed the same. Sun and rubble and loose thoughts. His brothers, his sisters, Grace, Pogo, his father… you.
No one to save him.
His own memories of you resurfacing in order to save him.
Until someone did show up to save him…
So, come on get higher, loosen my lips
Faith and desire and the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard
And drown me in love
FORTY FIVE YEARS LATER
The job at the Commission suited him well.
Currently the Parisian streets were cluttered and the small 1950s café was bustling with conversation and joy. He could picture you and his family here clearly. Klaus would fit right in with a goofy cap on his head, smoking a cigarette outside the café. Luther and Allison would be side by side window shopping. He’d accompany Vanya to a symphony at Versaille. Diego would be enthralled with Moulin Rouge and Ben would appreciate the louvre and you… he’d take you anywhere you liked.
He saw your face in crowds and heard your laugh in theaters. It was what kept Five from going completely off the deep end. With each murder and each assassination he imagined a happier scenario to suit it; visiting Cathedrals with you and his family, listening to the sound of their bickering which he missed so dearly. You’d make sure he ate and you’d make a joke to something he’d find funny like Freudian or Dickens and you’d smile as his lips turned upwards only slightly.
Everything would be perfect.
He just had to find his way back.
So, come on get higher, loosen my lips
Faith and desire and the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard
And drown me in love
He saw you in Sacramento, Mumbai, Arizona. Your eyes were in the streams of the Nile. Your smile was the blazing sun in Patagonia. Klaus was in the ash-stained streets of Berlin. He could catch Allison’s heart in Naples and Luther’s pride in the ruins of Rome. Ben was in the boisterous air in Barcelona, Diego’s voice could be heard in the Brazilian Carnival and he almost swore he saw Vanya beside a river bank in Oslo.
Wherever Five went a part of his old life lingered and he could never truly let go. The reminder that he was once loved, or possibly still loved, was encouraging. Books soon cluttered in his bags. Theories of time travel and quantum physics of which he hadn’t studied for years but he clung to the hope that this time he’d be smart enough.
That this time he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
I miss the pull of your heart
I taste the sparks on your tongue
With each hour he spent studying and calculating and pouring over little infinities he was reminded of your words whenever he worked. Small sarcastic remarks that would have caused him to snap at his siblings but it was somehow alright if you said it. He could remember your handwriting, feeding him sources from beside him. The calm muse you were in whenever the two of you dove into something. He found himself trying to replicate it on his own but it wasn’t the same.
Home was so close. He could feel it by now. Numbers were crunching together and soon he’d have a plan all in set. Even after forty years you still were the one who resonated in his mind the most. It still felt like you were sitting beside him as he researched and perhaps like many quantum theories suggested, there was another reality where you were next to him.
He was determined to get back to that reality.
I see angels and devils
And God, when you come on
Hold on, hold on, hold on
Numbers upon numbers.
He was so fucking close.
And then the numbers seemed to fall into place.
Hawkins would’ve been proud.
So come on get higher
Loosen my lips
Faith and desire and the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard
And drown me in love
Dealey Plaza was crowded with prospects of the president coming into town.
Five Hargreeves was attempting the impossible today.
Other than the order to assassinate the president, he was planning to dodge the order all together. He had found the numbers. At least what he thought were the right numbers. He’d have to be quick. His case was on the floor, his hands were beginning to glow and concentration… his family was in arms reach by now.
The anomaly formed, his eyes widened.
Without a single concern he walked straight in.
So come on get higher
Loosen my lips
Faith and desire and the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard
And drown me, drown me in love
It burned like no other.
HIs mind felt as though it was tearing itself apart.
Five was instantly regretting stepping inside. Something had gone wrong. It was the end of the line for him and all because of a simple slip up on his part. At that point it didn’t even matter to him. Death would be greeted as an old friend.
But then there was a moment of clarity.
“What is that?”
“What was that supposed to do, Klaus?”
Your voice, his brother’s voice. He could hear them. Clear as day. He opened his eyes, everything was covered in a haze of blue. With a jolt the universe sent him forward. His body hit the ground with a thud.
Voices were echoing around him.
It’s all wrong, it’s all wrong
It’s all wrong, it’s so right
“Does anyone else see little number five?”
He looked up and it took everything in him to not drop his jaw in awe. There before him stood Klaus and in line with him, all his siblings and at the end you. Klaus’s words didn’t seem to matter anymore because there he stood, back at home and in his own flesh although one that belonged to the younger him.
And you were there.
They all were.
Older, taller, more grown into your features but he could recognize each of his siblings. Your smile was the brightest as though you knew somewhere deep down that he’d always return. The silence between you was still peaceful and now that he was in the moment he appreciated it so much more.
So come on, get higher
So come on and get higher
‘Cause everything works, love
Everything works in your arms
You smiled.
He gave a soft grin.
It may have shocked everyone to see him hug you tightly. His face expressionless but words quietly coming from his lips. “I’m sorry.” he whispered.
You only laughed. “It’s okay, Five.”
“It’s okay.”
—
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A/N:Yes, I stole the title from the movie Silver Lining’s Playbook (an enjoyable movie by the way) and yes this can be viewed as platonic or romantic. I’m not writing a minor a fucking grandeur love story.
Summary:In which, Five Hargreeves didn’t see the silver lining and one day you point it out to him.
Despite the sun’s menacing glare, you couldn’t help but find it beautiful.
On the contrary, Five Hargreeves resolutely disagreed.
In his mind, there was nothing redeeming or remotely beautiful about the apocalyptic ruins in which you two walked. Survival was his main focus although what drove him, he didn’t know. Maybe it was in hopes of seeing his family again. In hopes that he could get you back to yours. These were the few miniscule ideas that kept him going despite the sun’s heat and the intense growl in his stomach.
“Today’s a nice day.” you say, pulling the sheet that clothed your hair down further.
“I think we have two very different definitions of nice.” he sighed, kicking the rocks that lay in his path.
You shake your head, taking a small swig of your water. “No. I just think you’re choosing not to stop and take a look.”
“At what?”
“The world.”
“I can see the world, Y/N. It’s shit.”
That was the thing about you that Five found odd. He had found you on his twelfth day in the future sitting in the ruins of a building with an expired can of fruit and a book in your hand. A pathetic picture to come across if you asked him. You had no recollection of how you survived or where you were from. Five had almost made the decision of leaving you but the small sliver of humanity that was left had won the mental debate and here he was.
You had an unique optimism and with anyone else it would have bothered him. The attitude typically followed with a bubbly personality and Five had little to no patience with most people but bubbly people especially. However, you talked of the silly, somewhat romantic, ideas in a serene tone that reminded him of his brother, Klaus. It was that peaceful aura of yours that kept him company through the rougher days. He wouldn’t ever admit it but you kept him from falling off the deep end.
He would say sanity but he figured he was far past gone in that department.
“I mean the good stuff. It may be hard to see from where we stand but there’s some good.”
He bit back a sarcastic laugh. “Like what?”
You fell into step with him, squinting in the shine of the sun. “Well, I finally took the time to read. I didn’t know I would enjoy it this much.”
Five scoffs. “That’s nice.”
You sigh at his sarcastic remark, though you were used to them by now. The sun was setting now similar to the hue of an egg yolk. Heat still lingered on your skin as you looked at him with a smile. “Come on. There has to be something that you’re grateful for. Something that keeps you going.”
His façade seemed to glitch for a mere second before he recollected himself once more. One thing came to his mind. Something was more along the lines of someone, that someone being you. Of course, he wouldn’t tell you that. There was no need to be vulnerable and make matters more complicated than they already were.
“Yeah. Your pestering.” he jokes with a smirk. His eyes fall on some ruins with odd books sticking out and astray. He nodded to the hideaway, lugging the small collection of necessities he had brought with him.
“Nice to know my voice keeps us alive. That’s very sweet of you, Five.” you tease, collapsing against the wall.
He rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his water. You pick up the stack of books that lay by your side, flipping the pages with a sigh. Five watches as you toss it aside, flipping through another only to do the same. “They’re in Greek.”
“Hand me those.” he calls. You lift the book to him, his fingers lightly grazing yours during the exchange. Five flips the book to its title. “Oedipus Rex.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You read Greek?”
He nods, turning the page. “η σκηνή”
Your eyes light up with curiosity. “What does that mean?”
Five looks up, your eyes the brightest he’d seen them in a while despite the need for sleep that lingered in them. He sighed, clearing his throat as you smiled. “The Scene. Before the palace of Oedipus, King of Thebes. A central door and two lateral doors open onto a platform which runs the length of the façade…”
You watched Five as he read, noticing the miniscule changes in his demeanor. The stern countenance in his eyes dimmed to a soft curiosity, similar to a small child’s. His face relaxed and his voice no longer scolded but flowed gently as he read. In his peace, you found sweet lullabies that drew your eyes closed as the journeys of Oedipus faded from your mind.
>>><<<
You and Five decided on staying at the ruins for a bit. Enough food and accessible water was around to make camp for a few days. When the sun shone the two of you worked making little to no conversation. Five preferred to scavenge in silence and you didn’t mind obliging to his few demands. It was mainly at night in which the two of you conversed, when the air was cooler and the day at an end.
“Hey, Five.” you mumble.
Both of you laid with your backs on the ground. Your eyes were gazing upwards as were Five’s. “Yeah, Y/N?”
“Isn’t it odd that the one thing that stayed the same in the world were the stars?”
He nodded. “If anything they got brighter.” he added.
“Yeah. It’s like we’re looking at one big storybook.” you say, pointing out lines of stars. “Leo, Ursa, Sextans.” Five follows your finger, a bright star lying under the tip. “That bright star right there is Regulus. Each constellation has a myth.”
“Myths by the Greeks. And the Greeks loved their tragedies.” he tapped the book that lay by his side. “Look at old Oedipus here. He’s suffering a pretty bad fate I’d say.”
“Not all stories are tragic. Actually most stories have happy endings I would say. If I were in a story this would all be so easy.”
Five shakes his head. “I disagree. Technically we’ll be a story and our ending isn’t happy at all.”
You turn to him. “You think so?”
He turns to you with a smirk. “Sure. An untold one. But I don’t see a happy ending in sight for us.”
“Now I’m going to have to disagree.” you say quietly. “There’s always a silver lining.”
A silver lining. It was something so common yet so uniquely you. Of course you believed in them. After all you still had hope despite Five’s persistent effort to get your head out of the clouds and your feet back on the ground. He had never believed in silver linings but he liked the idea when you said it. It seemed real. Genuine.
Your eyes wander to the stars once more with a smile. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but I think the best stories are the saddest ones. They’re the most real, right?”
He nods, fighting the soft smile on his lips. “Right.”
“So maybe our story is sad. But you can only know what’s sad if you know what’s good in this world.” you turned over, your head resting against your backpack and your eyes beginning to sink. “There’s a silver lining in this somewhere. Maybe you just haven’t found it yet.”
Your eyes fluttered close and your breathing came to a steady pace as Five looked up at the stars. His own open storybook clouded with your silver linings. Five’s story was a tragic one. His opinion would never change on that. It belonged to be painted in the sky for eternity, one of the many tales in your storybook. But perhaps there was a silver lining to it all.
Yours was the stars.
His was the person who pointed them out.
>>><<<
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Do I tag anyone? Shit I don’t have a TUA tag nice going Bri.
Leading him back into the theatre, your heart thudded against your ribs in your chest as lights shone onto your face. Fuck, what on earth were you doing? Taking a deep breath deep into your lungs, you pushed the swirling whirlpool of thoughts away. You needed to do this - just to get it over with.
Five appeared by your side, the overhead lights illuminating his smug grin like golden sun rays. “So… where are we going?”
Refusing to meet his gaze, - you knew if you looked into those harsh eyes you wouldn’t be able to go through with your plan - you concentrated on keeping your eyes trained on the ground as you replied, “Backstage. There’s something I need you to do.”
Laughter bubbled from his chest as he grinned, “Aww, finally taking me up on my offer, are you?”
Shame flushed on your cheeks like a blossoming rose as you attempted to hide your bashful smile. “I…No, that’s - that’s not it at all.”
Stopping suddenly by your side, Five grabbed your arm and spun you to face him. As his skin touched yours you almost jolted away from him at the feeling that ran up your skin, goosebumps forming on your arms. “Holy shit, you actually do want me to kiss you!”
Burning from the inside out, you opened your mouth to speak in response to the shit-eating grin on his face. “No! It’s just - before the play and all… I don’t actually want to kiss you. I’ve just… I’ve never been kissed before and I just - ugh, I hate you.” Reaching up to cover your face, you shrunk inwards underneath his calculating stare, shame slowly consuming you.
A calming heat began to swirl over your skin as Five leaned closer, lowering his head to yours. His hands wrapped around yours, pulling them away from your face in order to meet your eyes. You couldn’t think in that moment - couldn’t breathe - as he drew closer, his nose almost brushing against yours. And his eyes - god, the intensity in those eyes - sea green and passionate, and so, so alluring.
As you began to lean forward to meet him in a kiss, a soft whisper escaped his lips, rooting you to the spot where you stood. “In your dreams, Y/L/N.”
You stood for what felt like hours after he had walked away, attempting to process what had just happened, your mouth agape in shock. You couldn’t take your eyes off his receding figure as he strode out of the theatre, an awful pit forming in your stomach where the heat of excitement had resided only a few moments before.
Weeks later, after torturous rehearsals filled with his mocking grin and having to pretend you loved him - impossible in any universe - it was finally show night. The costumes had been adjusted - you had almost swooned at the dress picked out for you - and lines learnt, the cast chattering together in apprehension about performing in front of hundreds of people.
As your friend finished applying a light blush to your cheeks, you frowned at her, asking “Do you really think people will believe that I’m in love with him? It’s hard enough to pretend in front of you guys, let alone a whole crowd.” Covering a snicker, she smiled at you, amusement flashing in her eyes.
“Y/n, the chemistry’s been undeniable the whole time.”
“Chemistry? Please,” you raised an eyebrow at her. “Not with him.”
Your thoughts were interrupted by a stirring commotion on the other side of the mirrors. You knew who it was; you could recognise that arrogant voice anywhere. “No way!” Storming around the back to face whatever he was whining about now, your hands came to rest on your hips as you took in the scene before you. Five sat in a chair, surrounded by flustered makeup artists holding all manner of cosmetics.
“What’s your problem, Hargreeves?”
He levelled a cold glare at you, looking you up and down in your costume. “What’s your problem, Y/L/N?”
“You’re my problem.”
Someone standing behind him grinned at the bickering, adding, “He refuses to wear makeup for the show.”
Scoffing at how ridiculous he was, you waved them away. “Let me handle it.”
As you grabbed some of the makeup from the side, you gradually became aware of how empty the room was; it was just you and Five now. Swallowing the lump that formed in your throat, you stepped closer to the chair he sat in, leaning closer to dab some foundation under his eyes. You did your best to avoid meeting his gaze, which - unbeknownst to you - was following your every move with a deep longing.
“See, if you hadn’t been so fussy, neither of us would’ve had to be in this situation right now,” you prodded, continuing to apply makeup to his gorgeous, insufferable face. His skin was smooth, and soft under your fingertips. A strange desire to trace his features washed over you like crushing wave, but you pushed it away, reminding yourself of how he had left you standing in the theatre weeks ago, careless of how he had made you feel.
When he didn’t respond to your snark you did glance up at him, finally noticing how focused he was on you. It felt strange to be under such scrutiny, but not uncomfortable. Ignoring him, you continued. You had almost finished; all that was left was… lip balm. Fuck me, really? You internally groaned, recoiling at the idea of having to relive the closeness of that night.
Forcing your pride down, you leaned even closer, using your index finger to carefully dab lightly-coloured balm onto his lips. They parted as you touched them, and he let out a soft sigh. In response to the sound, your eyes flicked up to meet his, and you recognised the look in his eyes: he wanted to kiss you.
“Y/N.”
His voice was careful, apprehensive, as if any noise might scare you away from him. You looked back down at his lips, realising how close your faces were; if you had moved forward an inch, your lips would touch his. You wanted to; every muscle in your body urged you to move forward, a heat spreading through you as butterflies erupted in your stomach.
He shifted closer in his seat, his fingertips brushing against your bare arm as if asking for permission. You gave it, tilting your head down to move even closer. Your nose brushed against his as your eyes closed slightly, feeling the warmth of his breath on your skin. Your lips touched his, just a brush of heat as your fingers on his cheek directed him closer. Before your lips could meet properly, however, you pulled away, leaving him cold and unsatisfied. Holding his gaze you began to back towards the door, raising an eyebrow and giving him a smug smile, your head tilting to the side. You hoped he enjoyed a taste of his medicine.
Later, on stage, everything felt different. Nothing you said had any weight in the real world, and you were someone else entirely. You moved with the grace of an angel, your eyes playfully dancing with Five’s, the almost-kiss lingering between you. Except, he wasn’t the smug bastard you knew, he was Romeo; beautiful and romantic and enchanting.
He moved closer to you now, teasing, “Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”
Smiling, you recited your lines in return, “Ay pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.” He moved closer still, and you could feel electricity radiating off of his skin and onto yours.
“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray; grant though, lest faith turn to despair.” Reluctantly, you pulled away from his inviting gaze, your steps echoing across the stage.
“Saints do not move, through grant for prayers’ sake.”
Again, he moved closer, so much more so than ever before in rehearsals. Your heart sped up, blood thrumming in your veins. “Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take. Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.” His eyes were almost pleading as he looked down at you, his hand raising to your cheek. You could feel the heat rising to your face at his touch, knowing that this time, you couldn’t escape his touch. You closed your eyes as his lips pressed against yours, melting into his touch. It was even better than you had expected, and you pushed forward, ensuring that you were as close to him as possible. He pulled away too soon, his eyes focused on your lips.
You managed to remember your lines not a moment too soon after the kiss rendered you unable to catch your breath. “Then have my lips the sin that they have took?” You couldn’t escape his gaze, intensity burning into you; he wasn’t acting anymore.
He whispered back, “Sin from thy lips? Oh trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.” With that, he pressed his lips against yours again, almost desperately. This kiss was different somehow: more urgent and real, something that you both realised was long overdue. Your lips moved in sync as time seemed to fade away, forgetting the crowd. His hands cupped your cheeks, holding you against him gently as you both revelled in the feeling. Eventually - reluctantly - you pulled away for air, resting your forehead against his as a smile played on your lips.
“You kiss by th’ book,” you whispered, unable to step away from him, or remove your hands from where they rested on his neck. His grip on your waist tightened as a cheer arose from the crowd, subtly tugging you closer. You grinned at him - at Five, not Romeo - the smugness in his eyes replaced by adoration. “I waited too long to do that,” he muttered quietly, leaning in to kiss you again.
requested: Heya! I absolutely LOVE your writing (probably as much as I love Five, which is a lot!) and I was wondering if I could send you a quick request? If you have the time (and if you’re interested), could you write about Dunk!Five confessing his feelings/telling the Reader he loves them for the first time? Thank you so much!!
(@fandom-feline) Could you do one where Five is hella drunk and has no filter? He just goes on about the apocalypse and how touch starved he is and the reader is like “ok cuddles then” and then Five, with slurred speech is like “no I need my dignity”
a/n: god i love drunk!five what a mesS (also fuckin finally it took me way too long to get this up)
“I’ve got an idea!” Klaus exclaimed, his words slurring together slightly like crashing waves as he raised a bottle of whiskey in celebration of his ‘miracle’ thought.
Giggling childishly, you leant against Five on the sofa, your head falling onto his shoulder as the world began to spin slightly, a headache blossoming at the back of your skull. “What’s your fabulous idea, Klaus?”
Stumbling towards you both, Klaus collapsed on the sofa between Five and you, separating you from his warm touch. You whined quietly at the loss of contact like a touch-starved puppy, and Five sighed in annoyance at his erratic brother. Wrapping his arms around the both of you, his hand patting your shoulder, Klaus whispered excitedly, “Let’s play hide and seek! Come on, come on - I’ll count to twenty.”
“Like when we were kids?”
“Yes, but no cheating! You can’t use your stupid jumpy things to win this one, you little psychopath.” Shoving you off the sofa, Klaus whooped, “Go!!!”
As you groaned at the idea, Five grabbed your hand and pulled you upstairs, awkwardly managing to spatial jump half of the way. In his liquor haze, Five forgot he was supposed to be articulate and mature, not a boy who was enthralled at the idea of playing hide and seek. You couldn’t help but smile at his childish excitement, allowing him to pull you both into a closet on the first floor, explaining, “We can hide here.”
Unable to stop laughing at his serious expression, you lost your remaining self-control and became slightly hysterical as the liquor in your system continued to invade your sobriety. A hand slapped over your mouth in an attempt to quiet your laughter, startling you.
“Hey!” Your voice was muffled by Five’s hand, as he pressed a finger against his own lips, shushing you. A few moments of silence passed, and you began to realise how close you were standing to Five; his chest was pressed against yours with your noses almost touching. You couldn’t move anywhere; there was no room to move at all, especially not backwards. Heat spread up your cheeks at the proximity as Five’s hand slowly dropped from its place over your lips. His eyes bore into yours: sea green and wiped free of the past; untainted by painful memories.
His fingertips slid down your face in awe, beginning to softly trace the outline of your lips. The alcohol he had consumed that night was still coursing through his veins, blurring any of his remaining inhibitions. You released a breath you hadn’t known you were holding as he whispered, “Your lips are really soft.”
His eyes stayed trained on your face as he began to move closer to you, murmuring, “And I think I - you’re the most beautiful person I’ve seen in my entire life.” Leaning up on your tiptoes instinctively, Five cupped your cheek, tilting your head upward towards his. Before you could press your lips to his in a long-awaited kiss, a bright light illuminated the cupboard, and you squinted your eyes in response to the shock.
“Ha! Found you. I win,” Klaus crowed, unaware of the events occurring between Five and you. “Now I’m gonna hide and you have to find me.”
“Sure, Klaus,” Five smiled happily as he left the cupboard, grabbing your hand behind his back. As Klaus ran off excitedly down the corridor, Five led you in the opposite direction, laughing to himself.
“Where are we going?” you grinned, racing to keep up with his fast pace.
“Don’t worry, he’ll hide somewhere and fall asleep. We’re gonna go find some more alcohol.” He almost sang the last noun as he stumbled along, opening the door to his room and leaving you standing there as he spatial jumped. You shook your head at him, breathlessly collapsing on his bed. What had just happened? Damn that boy.
When he returned, he shook two big bottles of liquor in his hands, smirking wickedly as the liquid sloshed against the glass. You both downed more of the stinging poison, and time began to blur together.
Hours later, you were still listening to Five babble on about the apocalypse and how lonely it made him as he sloppily danced around his room. It seemed that alcohol dissolved any filter Five maintained while sober, allowing him to experience the freedom of childhood that he had never truly had. Grabbing your hands, he lifted you from where you sat and you squealed at the force he pulled you with.
“If I tell you something, can you keep it a secret?” He giggled childishly, imitating a shushing sound. You nodded at him to continue. “I think…that I might be in lov-” he hiccuped, “in love with you.”
At his words, your mind ricocheted back to sober reality as you blinked in surprise. “W-what?”
“But don’t tell Y/n, because she can’t know.” Five collapsed on to the pillows on his bed, opening his arms for you to join him.
“Okay, Five. I won’t tell her. I promise.”
He began babbling again. “After the apocalypse and everything…I just…I like being held, you know? It makes me feel s-safe and warm,” he slurred. Smiling at his confession, you moved closer to him. “Like I’m in a nice microwave…”
You couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. “Cuddles, then?”
“No,” Five groaned, pulling you into his arms despite his protests. “I need my dignity.”
Snuggling into his chest as his arms tightened around you, you mumbled, “You can still hug me and keep your stupid dignity, you know?”
Lightly pressing a kiss to your forehead, his eyes slid shut as his head fell back onto his pillow. A few moments later, a soft snore came from above you, and you looked up to find Five passed out. Even sleeping, he looked beautiful, as if he was handcrafted by angels.
“I think I might be in love with you too, Hargreeves. Even if you can only admit it while drunk.”
requested: hey could u make a five x reader where the reader has the power to manipulate reality (go wherever u want with it) and then five disappears. when he comes back and r is mad and stuff but eventually forgives him? (she stays young by just manipulating reality so everyone sees her as a kid whenever she wants) thnxxxxx (pls lots of fluff and angst)
You relived it in your dreams every night. Every single time you closed your tired eyes, you saw it all play out on the back of your eyelids. For years, you had woken up shaking and sobbing, your skin freezing cold but boiling hot at the same time. Whatever you did, you couldn’t get the memory out of your head. Nothing worked.
As usual, Five was testing his boundaries with Father. You knew he was going to cause trouble before you were even called to dinner; you could see it in the way he fiddled with his fingers and impatiently tapped his feet on the floor. Cautiously, you had attempted to persuade him to leave whatever it was alone, but of course, he didn’t listen. He was always convinced he knew best.
You knew Five had gone too far with Father when his voice raised to a decibel that reverberated around the room, bouncing off of the walls and carefully selected paintings. You flinched as his knife and fork clattered loudly against his plate as Five turned to leave the room. He ran, and you hesitated for just a second before following him out of the Academy. Your chair scraping against the polished wooden floor was the only sound in that room as you raced out of the front doors, your head turning left and right as you tried to find Five. Further up the street, you saw a sudden flash of blue, and then nothing. Fuck, fuck, fuck, no.
Continuing to run further down the street, your feet kissing the pavement as your muscles tensed. Your eyes scanned the entire street, but Five wasn’t there. He was gone. He had attempted time travel despite the warnings against it, and he hadn’t come back. Your breath caught in your throat as thoughts raced through your brain, and you stumbled along the pavement. Gasping, you managed to weakly call out, “Five?” There was no answer. Nor was there an answer the hundreds of times you asked after that, not even as Ben and Klaus came to drag you back to the Academy, a consuming fear cutting deep into your heart.
The panic and hurt racing through your veins had lasted weeks after his disappearance, and as much as you hoped and prayed to whatever Gods existed, Five didn’t come back. Every night, you stayed up with a lit candle by the window of your room, just in case he did. You planned what you would tell him, reciting it over and over in your mind; ‘I didn’t forget you at all, and I missed you so much that it hurt to think about - promise me you’ll never leave again.’ You never got to tell him those things, though, as a decade passed and he still had not returned.
As a child, you had used your power to manipulate reality to conjure an image of Five who sat in your room and talked to you for hours on end, reassuring you that he was trying his best to return home. You never told anyone about those private conversations - not even Klaus, who was your closest friend at the Academy besides Five.
Without Five, you didn’t want to grow up. You didn’t recognise the person that stared back whenever you looked in the mirror, so you resorted to appearing like your 13-year-old self to everyone you met. You knew who that girl was, and you didn’t have to imagine a terrifying future without Five.
As days passed, you grew used to his absence, sharp jolts of pain no longer stabbing you whenever anyone mentioned his name.
One day, you stood in your room, allowing yourself to see what you looked like now after years had passed. As you released your tight grip on your power, the face reflected in the mirror became one you didn’t know. A frown grew on her face as she glared back at you, grief and sadness the only thing glimmering in her eyes. You hated her. It was her fault Five wasn’t here; if she had just told him not to do it then -
A blue light flashed through the windows of your room, illuminating everything as if deep underwater. Wind rattled the glass window panes, and - gripping your hold on reality again - you ran out of the room to find your siblings racing downstairs. You followed them outside to confront whatever the disturbance was, slightly behind due to the difference in your strides.
Staring at the blue light, you noticed a distinguishable face beginning to form within it, making your heart stop beating for a singular moment. You’d recognise that face anywhere, regardless of age or distance. Stepping forward towards the light, your hands began to tremble slightly as Klaus moved to pull you back.
A body fell to the floor, clad in an oversized suit, landing with a thud on the courtyard floor. As he stood, hot, stinging tears welled in your eyes as you scanned his features - nothing had changed. He looked exactly the same as the day he disappeared. His eyes locked on to yours, and a cry of despair sounded from deep within your chest. You turned on your heel, marching away from all of your siblings so they couldn’t see the tears that began to fall down your face.
It washim. He was home. But all you felt was pain and anger. Anger that he left you alone for all those years. And despite everything, he could stand in front of you with the same smile that had crossed his lips whenever you made a joke. Slamming your door, you sank to the floor, your knees making contact with the carpet as you buried your face in your hands. Your body doubled over as agony blossomed in your stomach, the image of his face staining your thoughts.
A while after - you couldn’t tell if it was minutes or hours - there was a soft knock at your door. “Y/n?” a voice called from the other side, caring and concerned. The tone elicited another stab of sharp pain in your side, a groan sounding from your lips. You stood, moving as far away from the door as physically possible, offering no reply to the boy who was only separated from you by a panel of wood. The urge to run to him was excruciatingly difficult to resist, but the anger remained in your veins.
“It’s… it’s me. Five,” the voice continued as he hesitantly lent his forehead on the door. After so many years without you, he yearned to touch you, to hold you, to apologise a million times over. He closed his eyes against the returning silence, startled by your sudden reply.
“What do you want from me?” Were the only words you managed to find, your voice cracking with emotion. The door opened timidly, creaking on its hinges as it revealed Five’s apologetic face. Refusing to look up, you twisted your hands together angrily.
Slowly taking steps into your room, Five’s brows creased together. “Why are you so angry at me?”
That question set off an explosion of emotions inside of you, volatile anger coursing through your veins. “Angry? Why am I angry, Five? I’m pissed at you because you left me for years, with no explanation or goodbye. Do you know what it was like to lose you?” Raising your eyes to his, you were unable to stop the salty tears that spilt. Breathless, you continued, “But I’ve lived without you for quite a while, so if you want to leave again - go ahead. I think I can survive a couple more years without you.”
Five now stood in the middle of your room, tension evident in the way his fists clenched. “I never left you, y/n, I got stuck in the future. Do you think I wanted to leave? Do you honestly think I didn’t try everything to get back to my family - to you? I loved y- You know what? Forget it.” Turning to leave your room, he muttered, “It doesn’t matter anyway.”
His words caused guilt to course through you, remorse growing at the way you had shouted at him. Clearly, Five’s time travelling experiences were rather scarring, or at least, you guessed they were from the way his eyes flashed with pain when he spoke about it. Swallowing your pride, you reached out towards him.
“No, Five, wait. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blamed you, but I…” You sighed as you struggled to find the right words. “Do you wanna tell me what happened? And…why you’re still in a thirteen-year-old body?”
Gently grasping his arm, you pulled him back to face you. You lifted his chin with your fingertips until his gaze met yours. “I’m glad you’re home,” you whispered. Suddenly, Five grabbed you, pulling you into a tight hug. You honestly thought your ribs might crack at the force he held you with, but it felt right to be in his arms again. Safe.
Hours passed, and Five explained everything. The apocalypse, his time with the Commission, how long it had truly been. You winced whenever his voice broke with tears, reaching out to hold his hand in comfort. His fingers tightened around yours as he finished, raising his gaze to yours.
“You know what the hardest part was?” He smiled sadly, continuing bashfully, “Living every day without you.” As you smiled back at him, leaning closer, he added, “And coffee.”
Playfully, you shoved him, exclaiming, “You ass! Way to ruin a moment.”
Your laughing was cut off by Five’s lips crashing against yours. The kiss only lasted for a single moment, but it said a thousand words at once. “I’m kidding,” he mumbled. “I missed you much more than the coffee.”
