This imagine contains spoilers for season 2. It is part 1 of a two part imagine. Check out more of my writing : here. Enjoy!
This was it, you and your siblings had prevented the second apocalypse. And now it seemed that the fate of the world rested on whether or not Vanya could get through to a young boy to whom she accidentally transferred some of her power.
This already challenging task was not made any easier by the fact that the handler decided to declare a full out war against the entirety of the umbrella academy. The seven of you were so outnumbered that you honestly didn’t stand a chance. You just had to buy Vanya as much time as possible.
You used your powers to shield your siblings as they made their way to safety. Your powers allowed you to heal and shield others, but not yourself. It was incredibly draining to hold up multiple shields and you haven’t had a lot of practice in recent years. That being said, you managed through.
You then saw Vanya levitating ready to use her powers. She used her force to take out all of the soldiers, leaving only Lila and the Handler who somehow managed to create their own force field. You watched in surprise as Lila also began to levitate, you barely had time to react before she blasted you all with a force like Vanya’s. You managed to dampen it as it hit your siblings, making each of their landings as soft as possible.
You saw Lila head towards the house and ran after her. You watched as she threw Luther through the wall and ran to his aid as he landed in the snow. You healed him ignoring the light-headedness you were beginning to feel. Lila was now fighting Allison and you were about to go try to help her when Luther stopped you.
“Five is in there under the bricks. Go help him, I’ll help Allison,” Luther said.
You rushed inside and started to pull bricks off of him until he was mostly freed. You then put your hands on his chest and began to heal his injuries one by one. He shot forward and shook off the remaining bricks.
“Y/n, your nose,” he said and you reached up to wipe away the blood you hadn’t previously noticed.
“I’ll be fine, I just need a minute,” you tried to smile reassuringly, “go help the others,”
With that five blipped out to try to find the Handler and stop this once and for all.
“Y/n,” you heard Luther yell with desperation in his voice.
You force yourself off of the ground and out to where he is holding Allison.
“Lila rumored her, she can’t breathe you have to-” Luther started.
“Oh no you don’t,” Lila said before grabbing you and blipping you away and throwing you hard against the ground.’
“Why are you doing this?” you ask before feebly making your way to your feet.
“Because I want you and all of your siblings dead,” she replied before pulling out a knife and stabbing you before pulling it out, “and you were getting in my way,” she whispered as you sank to your knees. She then blipped back to the barn. It was time to avenge the death of her parents once and for all.
“Y/n! Klaus! Luther! Help!” you heard Diego yell. But as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t seem to move. The world around you was fading in and out. That was at least until you heard another voice, this time much closer.
“Holy Shit! Y/n! Can you hear me? Hey just stay with me?” Klaus said as he slid down and started putting pressure on your wound. The force cause pain to shoot through you and you shrieked trying to push away from it. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re going to be fine. The others are going to come and we are going to get you out of here. You just have to stay awake, okay?”
Little did the two of you know that as you were laying there fighting for your life, the others were closing in on Lila. They were trying to tell her the truth about the Handler. And just as she agreed, the Handler came in and shot everyone seconds before the last Swede shot her. Five summoned all of his strength to go back in time just a few seconds to prevent all of this from happening.
And this time it worked. The siblings were all left standing, the Swede shot the Handler before leaving. Lila darted towards the handler’s case, mouthing, “I’m sorry,” to Diego before vanishing. Then they all refocused their attention on Harlan and Vanya, who was taking her power back from him. Once the noise and chaos were over they all let out a breath that they didn’t even know they were holding. It was with this newfound quiet that for the first time that they heard Klaus yelling for them.
Five blipped to his brother’s aid immediately and was shocked to see the scene in front of him. Hesitating for only a moment before grabbing you and blipping you in the house. The others quickly raced in as five was blipping around frantically trying to find the tools he needed. You would need a transfusion, and to be stitched up, but maybe he could cauterize the wound and get you back to 2019 in time. Who was he kidding, you didn’t have time.
He found the lighter, alcohol, needle, and thread. And was trying to prepare himself mentally as the rest of your siblings come barging in. They are all freaking out, which is not helping.
“Everyone Shut Up! She is going to die if you don’t get a grip. Now then, Luther and Diego hold her down. Allison and Vanya see if you can find any type of painkillers or sedatives, anything,” he said taking his tie off.
“What about me?” Klaus asked.
“You, start making me coffee,” Five said as he crammed his tie in your mouth and whispered in your ear, “I’m sorry.”
He took a deep breath before glancing to make sure both of your brothers were in place before preceding to pour the alcohol in and around the wound. Your muffled screams pained your siblings, but they couldn’t stop. Five then took the lighter and fought through tears as he started to stop the bleeding. He was an assassin who had done unspeakable things, but he had never had to do anything that pained him this much. He was slightly relieved as your body went slack meaning the pain had finally taken over and you were unconscious.
“Someone check her pulse,” he ordered as he dipped the needle into the alcohol. He then stitched up your wound and stepped back taking a deep breath. He did a visual check for any other overly apparent injuries before taking the coffee that Klaus had made and dumping the rest of the alcohol in it and starting to chug it.
“How did you learn to do that?” Luther asked in astonishment.
“What part of assassin does your ape brain not understand?”
“Is she going to be okay?” Diego asked.
“I don’t know,” Five said softly.
“She has to be, we can’t lose anyone else,” Klaus spoke.
“You guys should take her upstairs and put her in one of the beds,” Five spoke.
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.
when requesting, please try to keep the amount of prompts requested under or equal to five. thank you and happy requesting! + anyone and everyone is free to use these prompts for their own writing <3 + all pronouns are set as ‘they’ but are subject to change per requests !
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: just a sweet little things for a few of the Umbrellas and their artistic lover!
Pairing:Luther Hargreeves x Reader; Diego Hargreeves x Reader; Viktor Hargreeves x Reader (gender neutral reader/no pronouns used).
Luther loved the paints staining your hands. Taking your hand in his own, you seem so tiny compared to him…and he can’t help but love that a little bit. Rough fingers run across your hands, his eyes catching the many colors.
Cerulean blue, goldenrod, midnight black.
Before him is a half-finished night sky painted across the bedroom wall. It’s beautiful, something out of Van Gogh’s dreams. Leaning into his embrace, a half-smile on your face, you ask Luther what he thinks of it so far.
“It’s beautiful.”
All around the home you share, little pieces of you are scattered about. Papers covered in concept sketches, glass jars full of brushes, too many tunes of painted to be counted.
Starlight silver, murky gray, ice blue.
Luther loves all of these little things, the half-filled sketchbooks and loose pencils and paint stains on denim jeans…but the bedroom wall is his favorite place, his favorite piece. He looks at it every night looking at it, smiling in wonder at the beauty of what you had made…but it’s not as lovely as you. Nothing could ever be as perfect as his lover. Pulling his eyes away from the mural, Luther will gaze at you as he falls asleep, so thankful that he was worthy of such a love.
Diego was the only one allowed to go through your sketchbooks. It brings him a sense of pride, being the only one given such an honor…others in life had cruelly criticized your art, leaving you insecure and protective of it.
Piles of used sketchbooks lay in stacks around the apartment, black covers speckled with color.
If he asked, you would allow him to flip through the ink drawings. A weeping moon, a burning sun, strange flowers and fairies and beautiful girls.
But it was moments like this he loved the most.
Diego had stolen a brief moment of piece with you. A clouded sky hung over the city, dark and cold. Clouds trembled with a coming storm, rain gently falling from the sky. Some old action flick is playing onscreen but that’s not what Diego is really paying attention to. His eyes are fixed on you, watching you create something wonderful.
Hands flying over the page, you lightly erase the messy pencil sketch and slowly replace it with a starry sky. He recognizes the constellations on page, Andromeda and Perseus and Libra carefully carefully decorated in shining silver. You love the stars, he recalls, knowing the constellations and the stories told about them…and whenever you cannot see them through a clouded sky, you make your own.
Taking your ink stained hand in his, Diego kissed your fingers softly.
Rough facial tickled your skin, Diego pulling you closer and into a soft, sweet kiss. You smelled of ink and paper and something of mint, fresh and cold and clean. As the rainfall became heavy, he held you tight and didn’t let go…he had no clue what dangers tomorrow might bring at least for tonight, he had this.
He had you.
Viktor’s soul is so much like your own. It was your shared love for the arts that had brought you together to begin with.
You always had to have music when you were sculpting and you just so happened to live right next door to a violinist. It was his music that had brought you into Viktor’s life, every little note making your heart swell. He just so happened to be walking down the stairs as you talked to friend about the beautiful boy who made magic with a violin and, well, that was that.
Viktor fell in love and took you with him, plummeting into a messy, wonderful world unlike anything else.
Moving into a small home together, Viktor found everything he’d ever dreamed of.
Music filled the house constantly, the tow of you dancing whenever you could. His books lined the shelves and overflowed in piles, your sketches covered the walls. In the garage was your studio, sculptures slowly coming to life. Viktor came in as you were working to Danse Macabre, the music swelling as you worked to bring stone to life. Bearing gifts (two cups of coffee and a kiss), he joins you for a moment.
Carved of white stone stands a man with perfect features, a crooked half-smile and kind eyes. In his hands was a violin and a bow, carved to such perfect that Viktor could almost see him coming to life and playing in the night.
“A conservatory commissioned me to create a piece for them…and I already found my inspiration.”
Viktor felt his heart beat wildly in his chest, a smile blooming over his face. Setting his coffee aside, he pulled you into his embrace and kissed you softly. A single kiss was enough to make you forget yourself, wrapping your arms around him so tight, as though you feared letting go. Hands played with his dark hair, a soft whisper muffled against his lips.
Cuddling with Klaus Hargreeves would look something like this…
We can all agree that Klaus seems like a very affectionate person.
Cheek kisses, holding hands, hugs… literally everything and anything. It’s the result of a touch starved childhood.
You indulged his affections and the only way to describe how he made you feel was warm. It was nice having someone who would hold you and pour all their love and affection for you.
And when Klaus showed you affection it felt genuine. His flighty personality made it so that every small act of touch made you blush knowing that somewhere in his mind he was thinking of you.
It was… rather nice.
Now of course relationships are boundary breaking and by far one of the largest boundaries broken was your problem with sleeping.
Overthinking was a killer and sleep had always been hard. Your mind could never shut down and the only way to describe your issue was, as you had told Klaus, “like the world was collapsing in on itself”.
“That sounds really awful.”
“Tell me about it.”
So one night, Klaus decided to stay over. It was only slightly nerve wracking for you. You were scared of him falling asleep and you still being… well awake.
Klaus was aware of your situation as refrained himself from touching you as he fell asleep beside you.
The moment worked out exactly how you thought… Klaus asleep and you awake and anxious and fighting off the urge to shift.
You failed at that.
You tried to shift quietly but Klaus heard you regardless. He let out a groan. “You’re still up?”
“Sorry.” You murmured.
He rubbed his eyes. “No, no! It’s fine. It’s not your fault.”
You softly smiled. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I think it’s a good thing seeing as you aren’t asleep. I’d rather stay up all night with you then have you suffer alone.”
You grin, his words cheering you up. “I know. I just wish there was a way for me to stop thinking for one fucking moment.”
He nods, his eyes seeming to be lost in thought. Klaus looked at you calmly. “Do you trust me?”
You nodded.
And that moment changed everything. He still faced you, looking you in the eyes as he slightly shifted. His arms wrapped around your back, lightly pushing you closer to him. Surprisingly, you didn’t panic. In fact, you collapsed into his warmth. Your head fell against his chest and you felt his lips kiss your temple.
It was the best night of sleep you had ever gotten.
From there, Klaus slept over every night and he held you. Your mind no longer raced down highways and you stopped tossing and turning.
And Klaus… he was overjoyed that he had somehow managed to solve your problem. He felt needed and that was something rare to him.
“Hey, Klaus?”
“Yeah, Y/N?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here.” you murmured. “When I’m with you, the world no longer collapses.”
Klaus has had to live through a number of difficult situations.
It doesn’t help that his siblings are shit with emotions and don’t realize to ask if he’s okay (especially with his addiction).
I feel like you were someone Klaus met a long time ago on one of his excursions out of the house as a teen. You were easy to talk to and the two of you became quick friends.
You’d already become a sort of therapist for Klaus. Or maybe a better word would be a shoulder to lean on. A friend’s place to crash in. You were just… therewhen no one else in his life had truly been.
Your first time truly comforting Klaus was after Ben’s death. Instead of being greeted with sympathy, the Hargreeves children were met with anger, disappointment and criticism.
It may not have been painstakingly obvious but Klaus was deteriorating inside.
So he had found himself sneaking out that night, Ben’s ghost not aiding to fill the lack of flesh and bone he used to walk in. He stumbled in through the fire escape of your apartment; drunk, a bottle of vodka in one hand, a cigarette in the other.
“Klaus, what are you doing in my fire escape?”
“Drinking away my sorrows. It sounds pretty poetic, don’t you think?”
He explained Ben’s death, gave a drunken recount of the funeral and deflected all forms of emotional questioning at all. But you didn’t need to hear the words to see that Klaus was in grief.
You listened to his rambling with a sad smile, preparing the couch for him. His face began to pale and a sickly mask overtook his features. The two of you stumbled to the roof, thinking it best to allow him to get some air.
The stars were shining brightly, a last ode to Ben in your opinion. Klaus stared at them in a daze. “He always loved the stars.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. When we were little we used to make wishes on them all the time.”
The gesture was sweet, innocent for someone so broken. “What would you wish for?”
“Candy.” he laughed. “And other things too. They never came true though.”
You nodded. “Well, have you ever wished on a burning star?”
His expression was priceless, like a lost child. “Burning stars?”
“Yeah. Burning stars. Ones that shine brighter than all the others. My grandma would say that burning stars are the ones you have to wish on.”
“Why?”
“Because when they die… when they finally go out… they become stardust. Your wish will be infused in the stardust and that stardust will make more stars and planets and it will spread your wish across the universe.”
You point to one of the stars in the sky, one of the brightest burning ones you could spot. “That sounds beautiful.” Klaus sighs.
You grab his hand, pointing his own finger to the star. “Now make a wish on that one and I swear on all the burning stars I can find that your wish will come true.”
“Do I say it out loud?”
You shake your head. “Think it. They’ll hear you.”
You watched as he closed his eyes, before letting out a soft sigh. “You done?”
“Yeah.” he said.
With that the two of you went inside. You made sure he was covered completely on the couch. An old musical played as you sat on the floor, back against the couch. Occasionally, you would hear him sing along until the weight of the night collapsed on you both and sleep was welcomed with open arms.
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.”
—
Let me know what you thought? (I told you it was shitty). Send an ask to be part of the taglist.
Summary: I’m a rocket-man, burning out his fuse up here alone.
Day 62
There was nothing you loved more than stars and the way they stood out against the black void of the universe or the misty colors of the planet you left behind.
But even beauty held sadness. Or perhaps it was the other way around? After sixty-two days of wandering in space you still hadn’t found the answer.
You knew there was a madness to your job. An obsession, a drive, a passion. A few rare people are crazy enough to abandon the comforts of their homes and routine lives, their families, all to explore an ever expanding universe alone. Not many things triumphed over the contentment of home but the unignorable call of curiosity did.
And boy was it calling to you now.
It had been smooth sailing for the past hour, the buzz of the radio Walkie-Talkie dulling your senses. Stars twinkled and you had already sent your daily report to your boss back at the launch site so the only real thing left to conquer was isolation and boredom.
Which is when curiosity tickled your insides.
A smirk came over your face as you rolled over onto your side, slowly turning the knob on your radio. In came the static, a peaceful hum but one that did not satisfy you. You sighed, continuing to turn the knob for a minute or two until you blinked, clear and concise classical music being heard through the buzz. Vivaldi?
“Hello?” you asked, brows furrowed in confusion. “Hello?”
The music stopped, the gruff voice of a man coming through the radio. “Hello? Who is this?”
You smiled, staring out into the open void of space at where the source could be coming from. A stupid idea, you knew, seeing as the radio could reach for miles and miles and all you could see was the grey speck of the moon and the small clusters of stars. “This is Y/N L/N. I’m with NASA.”
“NASA?”the man questioned. He didn’t sound all that enthused. “How’d you tune into this frequency? This is a private communication line.”
This man was already ticking you off. He had a rude but slightly curious tone to his voice as though he were trying to cover up his curiosity with an authoritative humph. “I’m an astronaut.” you replied. “I was just searching through the frequencies.”
“Well, this is a private communication line.”
“So you’ve said.”
The man huffed. “So don’t tune in again!”
“Hey, wait!” you called, not sure if the man was still listening. “Look. I’m sorry.” you picked at the cuticles on your fingers. “I’m sorry. I’m alone. I’ve been alone for sixty-two days now up here. I just… got bored.”
It took a minute for a reply to come through as though the man were contemplating on whether or not he should reply. You were about to turn off your line when the voice returned. “I’ve been up here for three years now.”
Your eyes widened, heart plummeting for the man. “Shit- three years?”
“Yeah,”he said sadly. “Like I said, private mission.”
At his words, your eyes wandered around your own spacecraft, it’s clean but empty appearance. You couldn’t imagine being stuck here for years. “Are you on a craft?”
“No, the moon.” he let out a breath of air, something between a laugh and a scoff.
“I haven’t heard of any moon missions that long.” you search your brain as you think. “Are you with Britain? China? Russia?”
“What? No!” he laughed, your questioning tone being the only source of emotion he’d heard in years. It was odd how much emotion it had drawn from him. Such a simple question. It was the longest conversation he had had in a while. “I’m American.” There was another pause. “I shouldn’t be telling you all this to be honest.”
“Maybe you want to.” you offer, blankly and quite literally staring into the view of space out the window. “After all, you’ve been here for three years.”
He chuckles. “Right.”
Surprisingly, you smile. “As much as I’d love to pester you about why you’re up here, I don’t want to tire you out.” Silence. “Can I at least know your name?”
The man sighs. “Luther. Luther Hargreeves.”
What a pleasant name (or perhaps the only new name you’d heard in a while). “Well, goodbye, Luther.”
“Goodbye, Y/N.”
And all that was left was static, stars, and some sense of hope.
Day 63
Despite its hardships, you still loved your job. You did your duties well, the open universe just a glance out the window. You moved slowly each day, collecting photographs, evidence, observations. Fragments of space to bring home and analyze but it had never been about the science, only your desire to touch the mysteries of the galaxy.
But you found yourself in the same position as before, isolated and alone. Thoughts of your family and friends
At the same time the previous night you found yourself searching the radio channel, listening in for that sweet sound of Vivaldi’s four seasons. It greeted you like a wave of reassurance as you waited for the song to end before tapping in.
“You have such refined taste in music, Hargreeves.”
There was a grumble on the other end although he didn’t sound as angered this time around. “I thought I told you not to tap in here anymore.”
“I do recall that but then again, I’m terrible at listening to directions.”
“I can tell,” he scolded. “Does your boss know you tap in here? I have a good feeling he doesn’t.”
You chuckle at that, knowing Luther wouldn’t be able to reach your boss back on earth. Your eyes settle on the planet, mist clouding the African plates. “It’ll be our secret, Hargreeves. Bet you haven’t kept one of those in a while.”
He gave an airy chuckle. “Never been good with secrets.” An uncomfortable chuckle followed. “Strict father.”
You blinked, forgetting that despite not seeing him, Luther Hargreeves was as much a person as anyone else. Three years wasted without another soul to swap stories with, confide in, trustin.
“I’d suppose that meant you’d have more secrets.” you confess. “Was your mother any nicer?”
Radio silence. “I didn’t really have one. I mean, sort of?” he gave a huff. “It’s all very confusing and a long story.”
You have a soft smile, something he couldn’t see but you hoped he could feel. “I’m all ears.”
And surprisingly, he told you everything. You stared into the dark void, the white lights of your spacecraft being the only source of sight as you listened to Luther’s story like a child listened to a fairytale. The movie of his life enfolded in the black folds of the universe from superpowers to bank robberies. The death of his brother, the tenuous but deep love for his remaining siblings. Ape transformations, nights sneaking out.
You heard it all.
And you were a fantastic listener. You commented on all the right moments, empathized when you thought he had no one (you didn’t realize how true it was), laughed at the jokes that were funny and laughed at the ones that weren’t. Lord, how great it felt to have someone to share the universe with.
It made the stars feel a little warmer.
Luther offered the same courtesy to you. You talked of your mother and your father and of your sister back at home. You explained the dreams of the unknown that you’d had since you were a little kid.
“I’ve always wanted to be here, you know? It’s been my dream since I can remember.”
“I can tell,” he confessed warmly. “Just the tone of your voice gives it away.”
You blinked. “Really?”
“Really.”he chuckled. “Your voice speeds up and you sound like you’re getting carried away somewhere far off.”
“Oh.” you mumble, a warm smile overtaking your features. No one had ever described something so simple in such detail. “What was your dream?”
He sighed, your fingers drummed on the cold surface. “I don’t know. I just wanted someone to be proud of me.”
Radio silence.
You weren’t quite sure what to say.
“I’m proud of you, Luther.”
…
“Thanks, Y/N.”
You smiled and gave a small hum. “It’s getting late, Hargreeves. I’ve got to clock out.”
“Me too.” he was quiet. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
You were somewhat unable to contain your smile. “Goodnight, Rocket-Man.”
“Rocket-?”you turned off your radio with a chuckle, leaving him to wonder for a while.
Day 66
Your daily tasks had increased in small intervals each day leaving no room to talk to Luther out of pure exhaustion. It left a hollow feeling in your stomach. You knew he was out there somewhere but untouchable due to something as human as sleep.
But luckily, on day sixty-six things began to slow. You completed your tasks with quite a bit of effort but still managed to finish in time to tap into the radio line and be welcomed by a jokingly frustrated Luther.
“What did you mean by rocket-man?” he inquired with a huff.
You laughed as you pictured what his face probably looked like. Scrunched, pout, a dab of frustration. “Relax, Hargreeves. No hello? No, how are you?”
He huffed. “I don’t like being left out of things.”
The frustration in his voice made you smile. “Haven’t you listened to Elton John before?”
“Elton John?”
You gasped. “Luther Hargreeves you haven’t listened to Elton John? I know your father was strict but that’s simply a crime.”
Luther sighed. “If I put this song on it won’t be some joke, will it? It’s not going to tell me I’m a stupid astronaut monkey?”
Once again, your laugh was sent out to the empty void of stars and through the staticky waves of the radio. “Who would write a song about that?”
You guessed he was rolling his eyes for a mocking of your statement followed before a bit of silence and then some piano.
And music spoke more depth than either of you could muster with your lonely hearts and troubled pasts. And in that moment you hoped that the words and the keys would speak to him the way they once spoke to you and that he’d find meaning in them the way you had found it.
“It’s beautiful.”
The corners of your lips rose and you wished more than anything that he could see it. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“It almost feels too special.”
Although he couldn’t see you and even if he was here you doubted the artificial light of the ship would illuminate your face enough to depict your slow shake of your head. You glanced at the stars and the small wisps of colors that were dancing in the blanket of nothingness. “You’re special, Luther. Remember that, okay?”
The static communicated his grin as best it could.
A/N: heads up… I’m not “back” (i say this now but watch i swear to god) this was sitting in the drafts and i read it and impulsively decided to publish it and… yeah.
Summary: Shaky fingers become steady hands once they dance across the keys of a piano forte.
You and Klaus Hargreeves had one thing in common and that was the slight twitch of your fingers.
Klaus, for one, has always hated his. It was a natural twitch that only got worse after the use of drugs and other mind-altering substances. His father deemed it “pathetic” and an “annoyance” whenever he drummed his fingers against the table at lunch.
Your twitch, however, had managed to become something beautiful when out to good use by your own supportive parents. Klaus was thoroughly enjoying the beauty now as your fingers lightly danced across piano keys in the stormy silence of the academy.
His head sat on your shoulder as you played sweet melodies and occasional sad fortes. A smile lay steadily on your face, eyes melting into the keys. The cloudy skies that awaited at the window merely faded away with the drawn out echoes of the piano.
Klaus knew that the silence in the house meant all his siblings were listening. He’d bet Vanya was hidden behind a column with curiosity raging inside her as she inquired in joining in with her violin. Perhaps Diego would pause in his training and Luther and Allison would stop their secret rendezvous to listen to the quiet player at the stairs.
You brought peace and comfort, something Klaus was eternally grateful for.
When you finished your piece, fixing his hair with a now steady hand and a soft smile. He flushed as you did so. “That was amazing, Y/N.”
“Thank you.” you chuckled, eyes roaming down to his own trembling fingers. You take them in yours, lightly moving them to hover over the keys. Klaus gulped, the proximity of his face to yours nerve-wracking. He could make out the curve of your jaw and the small difference in the hues of each strand of hair. “Can I teach you?”
He nodded softly. “Yeah, sure. By all means.”
You grin, pressing his fingers down on two keys for the chords, guiding his other hand to play the melody. A euphoric sound mused from the instrument causing his heart to flutter in awe, looking down at his own typically twitching fingers that had evoked the sound.
Klaus was starting to understand why you enjoyed playing so much.
The impromptu lesson continued on with your side pressed against his as you played small portions of the song for him to imitate. Klaus’ playback was as expected… quite choppy. The keys didn’t quite sing the same way as you made them but even so the moment was beautiful. The uneven playing made your heart tug as you remembered when you had first discovered the secrets and comforts of piano keys.
And now you were teaching them to Klaus Hargreeves who was slowly growing entranced with his own child-like dance across the forte.
When he finished the piece you taught him, playing it through hesitantly, he gazed at you with wide eyes. “How did I do?”
You grinned, an honest answer leaving your lips. “You did perfect, Klaus.” you pushed a hand through his messy hair. “It was perfect.”
Klaus grinned, his heart skipping twice as he laid his head on your shoulder once more, listening keenly as you picked up another gracefully soft melody to lull him to a peaceful daze with.
—
not tagging anyone because… i really don’t care about that stuff anymore. whoever sees this sees it i guess
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.”
