#Five Hargreeves fluff

[stiingrayyyy]

Dating Headcanons F.H

What it’s Like to Date Five Hargreeves

Pairings — Five Hargreeves x Reader (pronouns not specified)

Summary — My headcanons for if you were Five’s lover.

Warnings — opinions, no plot, it’s all over the place, last one is semi-NSFW.

A/N — i try to avoid nsfw with five because yk.. in the show, he’s physically thirteen but this one was too funny not to add. let’s all just pretend there was a happy ending okay 😭😭. i wrote this before season four came out so let’s pretend it ended happily.

— if you want another version where it’s just headcanons of you and five in the apocalypse i’m down for that.

— I see headcanons where Five is straight up mean, manipulative, and where he’s just using you.

— To me, that’s not Five being in love with you. Have you seen how he treats Delores? HE’S SO SWEET TO HER.

— So if you’re his lover, he will give you princess treatment like no other, holy shit.

—He’ll prepare breakfast so it’s ready to be eaten when you wake up.

— He thinks breakfast in bed is a recipe for disaster so he never does that.

— If you take a while to wake up he’ll wake you up.

— “My love, breakfast is ready.” He’ll whisper into your ear before pressing a kiss onto your temple, then one on your forehead, then your nose… then finally a chaste kiss on your lips.

— He’ll tuck you in bed at night and make sure you’re all snug before leaving. If you can’t sleep he’ll read to you.

— With him around, you genuinely never have to open a door. In addition to paying for every meal, he always walks on the outside of the sidewalk. He also pulls the chair out for you when you sit and showers you with praise.

— Sometimes the praise is simple whispers in your ear because he isn’t much into PDA.

— There was never an official wedding, he stole two matching rings and gave one to you.

— He’d like to have an official wedding.

— If he has to worry about the apocalypse he’ll probably neglect you only because he thinks the fate of the world is in his hands.

— He loves going on simple dates, whether it’s at Griddy’s Doughnuts, a simple stroll in the park, or a little painting place.

— He’s fancy but he doesn’t see the point in expensive restaurants. He likes the little things.

— He loves to make and paint pottery with you, it’s his favourite thing to do.

— When he can’t sleep he’ll come over to your place and sit on the roof with you.

— If you fall asleep he’ll Blink into your room and tuck you in, and he’ll even leave a note for you to read when you wake up.

— It usually goes along the lines of..

“You fell asleep, don’t worry I made sure you got back in your room and I picked up all your stuffies from the floor and put them on the bed with you.”

— He struggles with insomnia.

— He’ll write you love letters even though it’s more convenient to send a text. He loves you and he’s willing to put effort in love notes.

— His primary love languages are quality time and acts of service.

— He doesn’t show much affection in public.

— He doesn’t mind holding your hand though.

— Five won’t be afraid to hold your hand, wrap an arm around your shoulders or waist while he’s with his siblings.

— Kisses and hugs are private though.

— Despite being private, he doesn’t hide the fact he’s dating you.

— If anyone tries anything on you, Five will glare daggers. If that’s not enough, he’ll threaten them, and if they keep pushing he’ll make them bleed (but not too severe 🥰)

— He’s hella protective.

— You make midnight munchies together.

— He’ll refuse to dance with you in the kitchen at 2am but he’ll reluctantly say yes and end up actually enjoying it.

— Same goes for dancing in the rain. He pretends to hate it but he loves it and you know he does.

— You always make pasta or noodles for midnight munchies.

— One time you made cookies and accidentally woke up Klaus who ate the cookie dough before you got to put it in the oven.

— When you guys had sex for the first time Klaus congratulated you and Five with a cake that said ‘virgin’ in the middle of a 🚫 and woke you up the next day with confetti.

— sorry, i know i said i’d have a part three to my ben hargreeves fic but i wrote it and didn’t edit it.. and it didn’t seem entertaining enough to post, i’m sorry.

— if you want headcanons with the apocalypse involved, let me know <3

[rcksmith]

I have no words to describe my disappointment with the 4th season of TUA. Five's character was SO out of character that I wanted to scream!

He would NEVER be in the CIA. He would NEVER have betrayed on Diego.

He would NEVER have been with a MARRIED woman.

He would NEVER have acted SO calm and stupid about everything like a plant!

HE IS EXTREMELY INTELLIGENT AND DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO DECIPHER ANYTHING?

I refuse to write anything about him this season. All his virtues; FIERCE loyalty to family, ALWAYS saving family NO MATTER the means, ALWAYS COMING HOME, have been thrown away!

I feel betrayed by Netflix.

I'll only write anything from 3s onwards.

[redroses07]

The Umbrella Academy Season 4 Fix It Fic // Five Hargreeves x Reader Edition

WC: 3.1k

CW: Canon accurate violence, swearing, kissing, use of Y/N, Y/N is a bad ass, domestic fluff, angsty af.

Summary: A Five x Fem!Reader rewrite for the end of season four because I absolutely hated the ending. Five and Lila are not a thing in this fic, because that made me literally gag.

A/N: Hey luvs! I worked my ass off writing this fic because I needed to have a better ending for season four. In my mind this fic is canon. I hope y'all like it because I truly love how it turned out! Have an amazing day and enjoy! - Claire ♡

Five sat on the empty train, riding round in aimless circles. He had no intention of ever stopping. Perhaps he would die here, if death was even possible in this endless void. There was no reason for him to continue, they were out of options.

All he wanted to do was save his family, save you, but he couldn't even do that. At least this way he could escape having to witness the end of their lives.

He couldn't help but feel as if this was all his fault, if only he had listened to Reginald when he told him never to time travel. So much pain, so many lost lives, it never would have happened.

Five looked out the window, he didn't know what exactly for. Everything looked the same. Round and Round again, each identical station feels more hopeless than the last.

After an immeasurable amount of time, days? years? who knows. Something caught Five's eye.

He jumped up from his seat, following the dark figure out into the station.

Was that? No.

"Hey, wait!" Five shouted, chasing him down a staircase.

He rounded a corner, seeing a dimly lit cafe filled with all too familiar faces. The place was filled with several alternate versions of Five himself. It was an odd feeling for him to see himself this way.

Nonetheless, he took a seat across from the Five he had followed.

No more than ten seconds later, another Five served up two pastrami sandwiches. Five number two began to complain about the amount of sauerkraut on his sandwich, staring intently at the meal.

"What is this place?" Five asked, reaching for the cup of hot coffee next to him.

"It's a gas station. What the hell does it look like? It's a Deli." He could see that the alternate Five share his love of sarcasm.

He went on to explain how this was a place where all of the Five's from alternate timelines end up while trying to fix the "broken timeline" issue.

"Okay, so what shattered the original timeline?" Five asked.

"Not what. Who? I'll give you three guesses." Alternate Five held up three fingers.

"We did!" Another Five yelled.

Five wasn't surprised, everything always seemed to be caused by him.

"By we, do you mean my siblings?" Five asked.

"Yep, the morons."

Five rolled his eyes.

"When we come into existence, the timeline is shattered, and then we're stuck trying to save the world. How many times was it again?"

"145,412."

The number seemed almost impossible to fathom, but the more alternate realities, the more opportunity for the world to end. Alternate Five pointed at the wall, which was filled with every possible way the world had ended. Viktor's attempt at blowing up the moon was front and center. Seeing it gave Five an unpleasant sense of nostalgia.

Five came to realize that the commission was created by an alternate Five in an attempt to fix the timeline, but it was never successful since the Hargreeves siblings were the root of the problem.

"I have to get back." Five turned, rushing out the door. He heard the alternate versions of himself begin to speak, but his overwhelming thoughts drowned it out.

Five ran as fast as he could, getting back on the train and returning to his rightful place. With his family.

As Five entered the abandoned shell of his former home, the room's occupants turned to look at him.

The first person he noticed was you. You watched him with sad eyes, eyes he thought he would never have to gaze into again. Yet here he was, and undeniably, he had a plan.

You watched Five scan the room. Dark hair hung in front of his eyes, his chest heaved from running, or perhaps from anxiety.

"I didn't think you'd be back." You purse your lips, giving him a sour look. '

Facing your bitterness was the hardest part of all this for Five. Of course you had every right to feel that way, he had just up and left you. Although, in his mind that was better than having to watch you die.

"Yeah, neither did I." Five muttered.

Everyone looked at him, obviously awaiting an explanation.

"We caused this." Five began.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Alison sighed.

You stared at Five intently, wondering what had changed since he decided to ditch you and everyone else.

"The marigold that infected our mothers bringing forth our births had a side effect, it fractured the timeline, bringing forth the end of the world."

Five looked from person to person, attempting to read everyone's emotions. They were unreadable.

"Extracting the marigold from our bodies is the only way to stop the cleanse, and in short, fix the timeline."

Silence settled over the room. You weren't born with marigold as the Hargreeves were, but due to Ben's antics, this now concerns you too.

"Okay, but how exactly do we do that?" Diego asked.

Five looked over to Viktor.

"Viktor, you can use your powers to extract the Marigold from our bodies. Unfortunately Ben and Jennifer are too far gone to be saved, but their sacrifice will have been for the greater good."

Viktor let out an elongated sigh, and with little to no hesitation, he agreed.

"Okay, let's get moving before it's too late." Viktor said, speeding out of the room.

You followed closely behind, trying your hardest to avoid Five's gaze.

"Y/N, I-" You cut him off, this was not the time to be talking about all the mistakes he had made. Even if those mistakes led to the answer for all your troubles, they were still mistakes.

"We can talk about this later, if there is one."

Five sighed and watched you exit the room, not even bothering to look his way. He had fucked up big time.

You watched Viktor head towards the monster that was Ben and Jennifer. The creature growled, as it hurdled towards your group.

You turned back as you felt someone grab your arm, Five was standing behind you. You saw something in him that you had only seen a few times before, fear.

"Please. If we don't make it through this I want to make sure we're okay." Five begged for your forgiveness.

In any other circumstance you would not have given in this easily, but the dire situation has just begun to settle in. This could be it.

Neither of you wanted to leave this world with so many words unsaid.

Your gaze softened, and you followed Five away from the other Hargreeve's.

"I know what I did was wrong. With every bone in my body I feel that it was wrong."

He spoke loudly enough to drown out the oncoming chaos, but softly enough to omit any sort of aggression.

Five reached for your hands, and you reluctantly let him take them.

Five paused for a moment, trying to find the words that would mean the most, considering he was dealing with limited time.

"My worst fear is to see you suffer, and at the time, running away seemed like my only escape. I feel like I've already caused so much hardship in your life, and the thought of any more terrified me." His eyes stayed glued to you.

Five was the whole reason you had joined The Commission to begin with. He helped you to believe in a cause that you otherwise wouldn't have, and the two of you hadn't left each other's side since.

You didn't regret it per say, but you couldn't deny that you often wished for a different life. You would never blame any of your circumstances on Five though, and you hated how he always chose to blame himself.

"Nothing that has happened to me, or to anyone, is your fault. I think all of us share some responsibility, but blaming yourself is just wrong." You squeezed Five's clammy hands.

Five let out a sigh of relief as he was able to recognize forgiveness in your eyes.

"I love you." He said, fighting the tears that began to form in the corners of his eyes. The phrase was reserved only for you, as it is a concept that has always been hard for five.

Growing up with Reginald as a father, and a family that could win an Olympic gold medal in dysfunctionality, Five didn't exactly have a positive outlook on love.

"I love you too. We've been through worse, we'll get through this too."

Five pulled you into a tight hug, breathing you in as if it was the last chance he would ever get to hold you. The two of you were versed in the end of the world, this was not the first final hug you had shared. Five placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, and he didn't miss the small cry that escaped your lips.

You rarely cried, and when you did it was always around Five. He was the only person you felt comfortable enough with to show vulnerability. It was the perfect moment, and the past few days had worn down your patience. You reluctantly let a few tears slip loose.

"Get your asses over here love birds, Ben is here." Diego called from the other side of the room.

You and Five exchanged a look before running over to the center of the room and rejoining your family.

Ben growled ferociously, the red goo that dripped from his body falling around the room.

"Just so you guys know, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. So if we all die, I apologize in advance." Viktor said, clenching his fists on either side.

His newly improved orange power began to swirl around his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, clearly focusing on the task at hand.

You reached for Five's hand, interlocking your fingers with his. If these were to be your last moments, you wanted to make sure he was with you.

Five gripped your hand with everything he had in him, every bit of strength was to remind you of his presence.

With each moment that passed, the colorful plume of Viktor's powers grew, encasing not only Ben and Jennifer, but all of you.

You and Five watched as the all too familiar gold marigold specks began to float through the air. It felt odd, it didn't hurt, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant feeling. It was like your whole body was being poked by a prickly cactus.

The air turned cold, and all other sounds were overcome by the rumbling of Viktor's power.

An unbearable wave of exhaustion washed over you, and it became hard for you to keep your eyes open.

You looked over at Five, making eye contact with him one last time. He gave you his signature smirk, funny how in spite of everything he could still be himself.

The last thing you saw was Ben falling to the floor, the marigold protruding from him filling the whole room with a deep yellow glow.

And just like that, the world turned black.

· · ─────── ·☂· ─────── · ☂ · ─────── ·☂· ─────── · ·

Five opened his eyes, the bright light of day overwhelming his vision. The ground beneath him was soft, the tall grass tickling his fingertips.

Five sat up slowly, his eyes adjusting to the sun. He looked over next to him, and there you were. Just as you had always been, right by his side. Your chest rose slowly, a thankful sign that you were still alive.

Five looked beyond you, to see his siblings all scattered around the lawn. They were all exactly where they had been before the blackout. The empty patch of grass, of course, was where the Hargreeve's mansion used to stand.

Without the existence of their powers, The Umbrella Academy was never formed. It was strange, to know that what Five remembered, no one else did. It was like waking up from a strange dream.

However, one thing was missing, Ben. And of course Jennifer. Five wasn't surprised that they hadn't made it, considering how their bodies were overtaken.

Five watched as his siblings slowly began to rise from their temporary comas, their eyes heavy and glazed over.

Five nudged you slightly. Unable to wait for you to wake, wanting to share this beautiful moment with you.

You opened your eyes and felt as if you had awoken from a decades long slumber. The first thing you saw was Five next to you, a genuine smile on his face. That was something you had missed.

"Are we in heaven?" Klaus mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Well if this was heaven, I'd be awfully disappointed." Lila replied.

You laughed to yourself, and stood up on wobbly legs.

You all had done it.

"Viktor. I think you might have just saved the world." Luther announced.

Viktor smiled and looked down, maybe eventually he'd let himself take the credit.

You began to take in your surroundings. The sound of traffic in the distance, the wind stinging your cheek, the smell of spring air. It was all so normal.

"Guys, where's Ben?" Klaus asked, and your heart dropped.

"Klaus...we all knew he probably wouldn't make it.." Alison said sadly.

Just then, something caught your eye. Something yellow that stuck out in the patch of green.

"Guys, look!" You pointed at the unique plant.

"Marigolds." Five said softly, and you felt his hand close around yours.

Two beautiful yellow flowers sprouted from the earth, a reminder of what was sacrificed. A reminder of what had to happen for all of this to exist, and a symbol of hope.

~~ Two Years Later ~~

You awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside your window, a song that was often your wake-up call. You rolled over to see Five sleeping peacefully next to you. You weren't surprised. He always slept late, after all, he was an old man at heart.

It had been two years of living freely in the new timeline. You and Five now share an apartment next to Lila and Diego and their three kids.

Life wasn't without its challenges, but compared to everything else the two of you had been through this was paradise.

Viktor had started his own Cafe, a small shop on a street corner that had quickly become a local favorite.

Alison had landed a big movie role not long after everything returned to normal. Ever since it hit the big screen, she had no problem with job offers. She didn't even miss her power of persuasion.

Klaus still lives with Alison. He doesn't really do anything specific, he often refers to himself as 'self-employed'. But he was happy, and that was all that really mattered.

Luther had somehow reconnected with Sloane, who had re-appeared after the timeline was fixed. Of course she didn't remember anything, but it must've been fate because they got to fall in love all over again.

Diego decided to put his skills acquired from his power to use and now taught axe throwing classes.

Lila had decided to help people who had ended up in a mental hospital, similar to how she had. She was working on getting her degree in psychology.

As for you and Five. Five kept his CIA job, and you decided to join him in his career. As the two of you had always done everything together, why not this too?

You felt Five stir next to you, letting out a series of groans. He slowly opened his eyes, a smile spreading across his face the moment he saw you.

"Good morning, beautiful." His morning voice is thick and deep.

"I love you." You whispered, pushing his messy hair out of his eyes.

Five leaned up to kiss you but you counteracted it by jumping out of bed. You pulled the blanket off of him and he whined in protest.

"Time to get up, Gramps, Lila wants us to drive the kids to school today."

Five rolled his eyes at the nickname. You snickered and kissed him on the cheek before heading to the bathroom to get ready.

After the two of you grabbed breakfast, you met Lila outside, Grace and the twins behind her.

"Thank you again for helping us out with this, I don't know how I'd ever get to work on time without you." Lila gave you a quick hug.

"Of course, whatever you need." You ushered her away, signaling that you could take it from here.

You were used to driving the kids places, and they always said you were their favorite aunt. Five however, could not surpass Klaus for favorite uncle.

"Alright guys, who's ready for school?" You said as you jumped in the driver's seat.

There was a chorus of enthusiastic cheers from the back, and you laughed.

"I was never that excited about school when I was your age." The kids had no idea how long ago that actually was for you.

You made sure to put on some kid friendly music, anything but Baby Shark. You dropped the kids off and made sure they all got inside safely.

"Anything else on the schedule for today?" Five asked you.

"Nope, we're both off today so I think the rest of our day is free."

"Great, we should do absolutely nothing." Five's eyes lit up with excitement.

You nodded in agreement and drove towards your home.

Once you arrived, the both of you threw on pajamas and cuddled up in bed. Five flung his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder, simultaneously letting out a big sigh.

"I love you." He mumbled in your ear.

Even after all these years he still made you blush every time he said those three little words.

"I love you more." You pressed a kiss to Five's nose and he scrunched it up before responding with a chaste kiss to your lips.

After breaking apart you and Five settled into each other's arms, excited to spend a calm day together.

He reached for the remote and flicked on the TV. The small kiss he placed on your forehead didn't go unnoticed.

As Five settled into this new life, he found it hard not to expect a new life altering crisis to pop up at any moment. But it never did.

As the day dragged on, nothing out of the ordinary happened; and you could almost say that it was an ordinary day.

Taglist: @xreader-writing @dorkyfangirl24 @dinorawrss @anne-oop @ladynaviamin @i-amtrash @patchesofdreams @sarbear33 @marinalor

[shadowbriar]

Five Hargreeves - Back To You

Pairing : Five Hargreeves x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.8k Warning : Angst. Season 4 references. Synopsis : After one too many subway trips, Five's plan of temporal refuge extended as he met someone he refuse to lose. Notes : I refuse to acknowledge what happened in Episode 5 and 6 though I use the gif of said episodes. Don't come at me if you don't agree. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Living in a small cottage by the lake has never been in his cards. To settle down and watch the sun sets everyday, hearing the rocking chair creak as he takes a sip of his coffee. This was beyond anything he could ever hoped for, anything he could afford. He knew that this wasn’t the life he’s supposed to lead. Lord, this wasn’t even a life he owns to begin with. But with each second passed in this universe, Five finds it hard to drag himself back to that subway and return to his own timeline.

“Enjoying the scenery, are we?” She whispers as she sits on his lap, clinging her arms around his neck “You know, I could really use the help stuffing that chicken. It is afterall your special request.”

The boy raised an eyebrow, “Shouldn’t I be off of any chores since it is my special request?”

“Just because it’s your birthday, doesn’t mean you’re having a vacation, big guy,” She reasoned “We’ve only got two hands and this house is only getting bigger than smaller.”

The boy couldn’t bite his grin when he leaned in to kiss her. His heart swells. She was right. The house feels like it’s growing along with them. They might not have much, certainly far from the wealth his father possesses, but it was much more than enough. Having her was much more than enough.

“You know that I love you, right?” Five asks as he pulls away, his left hand still cupping her cheek as his thumb caresses her gently.

“I know,” She nods, smiling “But you can’t sweet talk your way out of kitchen duty, Mister.”

Five chuckles, standing from his seat as he carried her in his arms, “Alright, Missy, let’s see what this chicken fuss is all about.”

—-

The muscles on his cheeks were aching but he couldn’t fight the need to grin as wide as he could. He was happy, watching her carry that awful looking cake out of the oven. The icing that supposedly spelled ‘happy birthday’ was crooked, its colour pale compared to the bright fondant covering it. Thank God the candles were their only source of light, otherwise she wouldn’t even bring it out, he reckons.

“It’s ugly, I know,” She says as she lets it rest on the table “But it tastes better than it looks, I promise.”

Five shakes his head, disagreeing with her discouraging comments as he steals a kiss, “It’s perfect.”

“Well, go on and make a wish!”

The boy closes his eyes. His hands holding hers as he whispers his wish: I wish for this to last forever. Her squeals of excitement was music to his ears as he blew the candles. It is indeed the best birthday of his life.

“I’d ask but I know you wouldn’t tell me your wish.”

“Who said I made any wish?”

“You did,” She says as she helps him cut the cake “You make that little frown everytime you say your little prayer, do you know that?”

“I don’t pray, Love.”

“You do. Well, not religiously, but sometimes you do. You say your little prayer, your hopes. You whisper them sometimes, but most times you just close your eyes and do that little frown thing.”

Five raised an eyebrow, “Have you been watching me?”

“I might,” She teases “I mean who wouldn’t watch such a handsome man like you?”

The night continues as the couple finishes their dinner. Fulfilled would be such an understatement for what he feels right now. Everything he ever wanted, everything he ever dreamed of, is served right in that room. He wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

“So can I take a guess about what you wished for?”

“Really, Love?” He asked, putting down his glass of wine.

She shrugs, “We’ve talked about everything else, haven’t we?”

“You know, there’s a belief that if you say your prayers, it won’t happen.”

“Well, you’re not saying what it was, I’m just taking a guess what it’s about.” She argues, still persistent “And what’s so bad with it not happening? Do you really want it that bad?”

“I— Nothing, I just don’t—”

“What is it that you could wish for? What is it that you don’t have?”

“Nothing, I’m not saying that I want anything, I just—”

“Is it your family?”

Five pauses. It was as if he was stupefied. He hadn’t thought about his family in a while. Shameful of him, sure, but after one too many subway trips, he figured that a little rest shouldn’t be so bad. He just had to find a timeline where there weren't that many people shooting at him. Perhaps take a week or two to rest and gather his strength before jumping into another subway.

It just had to be her. The girl he bumped into right after he got out of the station. He remembers vividly the concerned look on her face when she saw him. He was littered with bruises, dirt and dust covering his body. He looked more like trouble than a lover yet she still found it in her heart to ask if he needed any help.

And here he was, feeling the happiness in his heart wither as the thought of his family returned to his consciousness. He knew that the universe is cruel, that he couldn’t have the best of both worlds in this lifetime, that he had to choose between his lover or his family. Some nights he wonders if his family had succeeded in preventing another apocalypse without him. Some nights he wonders if his family had found a way to another timeline. Some nights he wonders if his family were still alive. But most nights he tried his best to ignore these wonders. His family must have found a way to stop the apocalypse, or at least escape another one.

Taking a deep breath, Five reaches for her hands. Guilt and regret were evident on her face. He knew that she didn’t mean to sound as cruel. Perhaps it was the wine that made their blood more sensitive or that the fatigue of the day had clouded their minds. Either way he knew that they both would be sorry when the morning came.

“I love you,” He starts gently “I love you more than anything in this and every timeline.”

A tear left her eye. It was painful. To love someone you know doesn’t belong to you. To desperately grasp into the moments you knew would end anytime soon. To selfishly stay in a relationship that was doom from the start. Neither of them deserved this, yet neither of them wanted to let go.

“It’s been six years, Five,” She reasoned “As much as I love you.. We can’t keep living like this.”

“Time works differently there, my love. Six years here might only mean a couple hours there.”

“That doesn’t make it any less wrong for you to stay. Those couple hours might be the most crucial hours for your family. They might be fighting for their lives right now, they might be dying, for all we know! You need to come back to them, Five. You have to.”

Five forces a laugh, “Wait, what are you saying?”

She remained silent. Her tears were falling, biting her lips to conceal her tremble. A bitter feeling is brewing in his stomach now.

“Your family needs you and—”

“Okay, stop,” He stood from his seat with an offended look “Are you breaking up with me? On my birthday?”

She looks away, unable to meet his eyes.

“Goodness, you can’t be serious.”

“What choice do we have, Five? One way or another, you’d have to go back to your family. They need you—”

“And you? You don’t need me anymore?”

Her jaw clenches, “That’s beside the point.”

“No, that is the whole point, actually,” He argues, this time coming close to her “I love you, alright? Why is it so wrong for me to want to be with the person that I love? I’ve lived more than a lifetime alone, why can’t I have someone for once?”

“You don’t belong in this timeline. I—”

“I belong with you,” He cuts in “It’s not the timeline that matters, it’s where you are. I belong with you.”

If there’s anything she loves most about Five other than his gentle and caring nature towards her, it would be how adamant he is once he’s set his mind into something. There’s no doubt in her heart about the genuinity of his words. But as much as she’s grateful and touched over it, she knew that they could only spend so long before the guilt eats them whole.

She lets go of his hands softly, placing them on his cheeks instead. She admires him. The beautiful man that’s now standing in front of her with his heart on his sleeves, announcing his devotion to her on the day when he’s supposed to be the one showered with attention and love. His eyes were glossy, clearly conflicted.

“I love you, Five,” She whispers, gently caressing his skin as if it was their last goodbye “But I can’t keep you here, I can’t. I can’t keep you from your family.”

Five looks defeated, silent.

“Don’t you want to know what happened to them? If they’re okay? If they’ve figured out how to stop the apocalypse? Don’t you want to know?”

“I— I don’t know.” He answers “What I know is that I want to be with you.”

“I’ll always be with you, Love,” She reassures, kissing his cheek “I might not understand how this whole different timelines work, but I know that whichever timeline it is, whatever universe we live in, I will always belong to you. I will always be with you.”

And he finally cries. His tears flowing and wetting her palms. His heart shatters, finally succumbing to the guilt he’s tried so hard to bury and forget. He misses his family, he wanted so badly to get back and pick up where he left off, but would it be worth it? Would leaving everything here be worth it? Would leaving her be worth it?

“We’ll find our way,” She reassures, pulling the broken man into her embrace “You’ll find me in your timeline. Maybe we’ll meet at the grocery store, or at a bar, or perhaps at another train station.”

Five chuckles a little, letting a shaky breath as he asks, “And if we don’t?”

“We will,” She says firmly, giving a little space between them so they could gaze into each other’s face “I’m too much of a troublemaker and you’re too much of a problem solver for us to not meet. It’ll be too hard to ignore each other with our nature, Love. We’re bound to meet each other, in any timeline, in any universe. Trust me.”

The boy forces a smile. He leans in, kissing his lover gently as if she’d burst into petals if he pushed too much. Her hold around his neck feels different. Like she wasn’t looking for support but giving one instead. He could feel her trembling a little as his hands pulled her closer by the waist. Her heart is breaking too, as much as his is, but they knew that it’s inevitable. It’s only a matter of time before time pulls them apart and it certainly would be much more painful then.

“I’ll find you,” He whispers “I promise.”

—-

Canada is certainly much colder than home. Five rubs his hands and blows some air to his palms in hope to gain some warmth, but it’s obvious that the only comfort he’ll find in this weather is to get in Viktor’s bar and ask for some drink. That is, if Diego could start the car and get them going.

“It says here that Viktor’s bar is only five minutes by foot,” Klaus says “Who wants to run to the bar with me?”

“No one is getting out of this car!” Diego says in frustration, irritatedly trying his best to start the engine “We’re going to get to his bar together, in this car. That’s the whole point of a family road trip. We go to the bar by car, not by foot!”

“Yes, but it’s freezing here, Diego! The heater is not even on!” Alison argues.

“Well, it won’t be unless the engine is on.”

“No shit, Luther,” Ben says “I vote to run.”

Lila raises her hand, “Second to run.”

“No! No one is getting out of this car!” Diego yells once more, hitting the steering wheel frustratedly “I just need to—”

And by God’s miracle, the engine turns back on. Though their trip would soon reach its main destination, the bicker done by the family persists. The coldness of Canadian weather and how the heater broke almost twenty kilometres ago has made the seven heads��� temper raise. They really need to get to Viktor’s bar before they start to kill each other.

“I’m out of here,” Five announce as the car gets into the parking space of the bar. He space jumped inside, finding himself on one of the empty stools “Good to see you, Viktor.”

“Five,” VIktor greets, a little startled but his smile grows “You’re here. Where are the others?”

“Still figuring their way out to get here. Can I get whiskey on rocks?”

“On it.”

Five taps on the wooden table as he waits for his drink. His heart was content, as much as it might mean now. Their plan to stop the apocalypse worked. Viktor managed to take the marigold off of Ben before the Cleanse happened and now they’re trying to get back or rebuild their life. For once they finally managed to stop the apocalypse from happening.

Right after they succeeded in preventing the cleanse, Five found himself running to the subway station. He could still feel his feet burning from how fast he tried to get back to the station, wanting to jump in the train and go back to her timeline, but once he got there, the station vanished. There was no trace of it, no matter how many times he tried to run around and look for it. The subway is gone. She is gone.

Perhaps it was the price he has to pay for saving the universe. One’s happiness in exchange for the lives of millions doesn’t seem to be a hard sacrifice to make, but it’s still a tough pill for him to swallow. He knew that she would be proud. That she would hug and kiss him for doing all the hard work in saving the world. But the more he thinks about it, the more it stings for such touch would only be as good as a dream now.

“You ordered whiskey on rocks?” A voice asked, breaking his train of thoughts.

Five’s mouth went agape. He couldn’t tell if he was daydreaming or if this was some sick new power he gained from the marigold, but she was there. Standing right in front of him with a glass of whiskey in her hand.

“Viktor said his brother ordered whiskey on rocks, I assume that’s you?”

“I— Uh, yes,” He stammers, getting off the stool “You’re here.”

Five couldn’t believe his eyes. In his heart he knew that they would meet again, that somehow the universe would let him keep both her and his family, but he never expected that it was true. He never expected that he would meet her again. Not this fast, not this way.

“Sorry?” She asks, raising an eyebrow “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” Five said, shaking his head and taking the glass “Thank you.”

The girl smiles. It was a different smile than what he’s used to seeing. There wasn’t much love in her eyes, but he wasn’t in the position to complain. The girl he’s staring at and his lover might be the same person but she’s yet to know him here. She’s yet to know that he’s hers. She’s yet to know that he loves her. She’s yet to know that he belongs to her.

“Sorry, but have we met before?” She asks, still staring back at him “You look very familiar.”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” He lied, offering his hand “I’m Five. Five Hargreeves. Viktor’s brother.”

She took his hand, telling him her name, “I didn’t know Viktor had a baby brother.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not really his baby brother. It’s— It’s complicated.” Five could feel his cheeks burning like a little boy, bashful “It’s a long story.”

“You mind telling me about it?” She asks, leaning on the table “I’ve got time. I love hearing stories.”

“I know you do,” He says with a big smile “Well, where do I start..”

[srslyblvck]

injured, five hargreeves

pairing: five hargreeves x gn!reader

synopsis: you and five hated each other, everyone knew that. you both bickered like children. so what happens when you are in front of his house, injured?

genre: fluff

warnings: blood, injuries

word count: 0.7k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ YOU NEVER LIKED FIVE. He was insufferable, arrogant, and always acted like he was the smartest person in the room—which, unfortunately, was often true. But that didn't make him any less intolerable. The feeling was mutual, and everyone in the Commission knew it. They watched in bewilderment as the two of you hurled insults at each other, yet when it came to missions, you both worked like a well-oiled machine. The IT duo, they called you, though you’d never admit you found some satisfaction in that title.

But the minute the mission was over, the bickering resumed. It was like you couldn't help it. He’d make a snide remark, and you’d fire back, both of you sparking a fire that never quite died down. It was exhausting, but in some twisted way, it kept you sharp.

Tonight, however, was different.

you were stumbling down a dimly lit alley, clutching your bleeding side, blood seeping through your fingers with every step. The world around you was blurring, spinning, and you couldn’t think straight. You didn’t know where to go, or who to turn to. Your mind was a fog of pain, but one name pushed through the haze—Five.

It made no sense. He was the last person you’d ever willingly go to for help. But at that moment, with death breathing down your neck, his house was the only place you could think of, the only place that might be safe. Even if he was the last person you wanted to see right now.

So you forced your legs to move, one agonizing step at a time, until you found yourself at his door, barely holding on. You raised a shaky hand and knocked, the sound weak against the door. A part of you hoped he wouldn’t be home, that you’d pass out here and this whole mess would be over. But the door swung open, and there he was, staring at you with a mix of shock and disbelief.

You tried to say something, but all you could manage was a weak whisper. "I didn't know where else to go..."

Your vision blurred as you felt your knees buckle, and the world started to fade to black. Before you could hit the ground, though, you felt strong arms catch you, holding you up.

Five's heart pounded in his chest as he looked down at you, barely conscious and bleeding. He hated you—no, he loathed you—but seeing you like this, broken and vulnerable, sparked something he couldn’t quite place. He muttered a curse under his breath as he picked you up, carrying you inside with surprising gentleness.

He laid you on his bed, his eyes scanning your body for the source of the blood. The sight of you like this made something twist in his gut, something he didn’t want to acknowledge. But there was no time for that. You needed help, and fast.

He grabbed a first aid kit, hands trembling slightly as he opened it. His eyes lingered on the hem of your shirt, drenched in blood. He knew he had to remove it, but he hesitated, cursing himself for feeling so conflicted. Finally, he shook his head, forcing himself to focus. If he didn’t do this, you’d die.

Carefully, he peeled the bloody shirt away, averting his eyes from anything but the wound on your side. It was bad—deep, and still bleeding heavily. He worked quickly, cleaning and bandaging it as best as he could. Every few moments, he glanced at your face, now pale and eerily still, his mind racing with thoughts he didn’t want to have.

Who did this to you? Who would dare lay a hand on you?

The thought of someone else hurting you filled him with a rage he hadn’t expected, a simmering anger that only intensified with every glance at your unconscious form. If he found out who did this, they’d regret ever crossing you.

As he finished bandaging your side, he grabbed a hoodie from his closet. He carefully slipped it over your head, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did. He was cautious, trying not to hurt you more than you already were.

As he finished, he sat beside you, his mind racing. The sight of you so vulnerable, so close to death, shook him more than he cared to admit. He hated you, or at least that’s what he told himself every time you exchanged sharp words or shot him a scathing glare. But seeing you like this stirred something in him that he couldn’t quite place—a protectiveness he didn’t know he had.

He clenched his fists, staring at the ground, forcing himself to remember all the reasons he couldn’t stand you. The way you challenged him, the way you never backed down, the way you always had to have the last word. But as he glanced at your pale face, a different thought crept into his mind—what if you hadn’t made it to his doorstep?

Five shook his head, pushing the thought away, refusing to let it take root. He wasn’t going to dwell on that, wasn’t going to let himself feel anything other than annoyance. You’d live, you’d recover, and then you’d go back to bickering like you always did. That’s how it had to be.

But for now, he stayed by your side, watching over you, waiting for the moment when you’d open your eyes and start another argument. And for once, he found himself looking forward to it.

[jellyfishsthings]

WARNINGS: stlll angry reader because i am a petty and grudgy (is that a word? I am not sure) queen, death, funny internal monolgue (i am getting good at them) um not exactly smut but suggestive content ... oh and my terrible writing because it has been a while... also how cool is this collage like 🤯

part 1, part 2

The hotel they had been stayed was a little bit dusty and not overcrowded but his family hoarded him like crazy. They were talking his ear of nonstop demanding answers he didn't have once again. His shoulders felt too heavy and he just wanted to sleep. His lovely wife was avoiding him and when she wasn't avoiding him, she glared at him. His heart ached at her presence. How had he screwed up this one lovely thing fate threw in his way?

His family was a calming presence sure. But he didn't crave them the way he needed her, his chosen family. Don't get him wrong he loved his annoying siblings to bits, those little shots were everything he had. But he didn't seek them out the way he did her. He was infuriated with her from day one. He was a trained assassin, a ruthless killer, yet one simple smile from her, as lightly mean teasing comment turned him soft, weak to his knees, ready to do her every bidding. It wasn't healthy ... right?

He was glad she was getting along with his family and overjoyed when she fought by their side in the Sparrow Academy proving to be a valuable asset. He told her as such which resulted in more yelling from her and a fond smirk on his face formed on his lips as he heard his brothers snickering behind his back.

"Asset? You have the nerve to call me an asset?" Her voice could be heard from miles away but his heart flattered at her sight. Her cheeks were read from the fight and a new cut was adorning her right cheekbone and Five couldn't bring himself to care for the scene they were making because she was finally here, next to him, alive and partially unhurt. He would take her anger over her absence. His mind was calmer and he was more rational, less reckless. All he wanted was to grab her angry face and kiss the anger out of her. Was it toxic? Perhaps. Did he need her desperately? Definitely.

The days have gone by with the blink of an eye and as their impending doom approached them he could she her resolve crumbling, she became less harsh with him, tangling their fingers in show of silent support and Five at that moment felt invincible, there was nothing he couldn't do. If he was going to die he was going to die in her arms, he was going to feel her lips against his one last time and he was going to feel her around him again.

The opportunity arised in Luther's crazy wedding. He could understand the sentiment. He had done the same but he thought his marriage was more beautiful than his. His dark green eyes were constantly scanning the room as he consumed one drink after the other. He was going to be hammered beyond recognition and his wife seemed to have the same idea as she mixed drinks and swayed on her feet. She had never looked more beautiful. She had put on a bit weight, yet not enough and all he wanted was to staff her face with her favorite foods to make sure she would stay healthy.

Somehow they had ended up on the dance floor, stumbling over each other's feet as they giggled lightly underneath their breaths. They were watching them closely from the balcony of the room, yet he was so far gone in her that his brain was stuck in that thought as it repeated her name in an endless circle. His fingers ghosted patters in her lower back and he could feel the goosebumps rising at her exposed back. She had been wearing a beautiful dress, the one that resembled THE dress, the one she wore when their relationship started.

Their last night on Earth.

They were going to spend it together.

With a bottle of the strongest whiskey in hand and pulling her by the waist they ended up in an abandoned room as they stumbled and fell on each other. They flopped down on the bed, bouncing on the mattress and the springs groaned from the sudden weight. His jacket had been discarded in a matter of minutes as he pounced on her like an animal would to its prey and kissed her hungrily.

In a matter of minutes their clothes were resting on the carpeted floor and he was inside her moving at a lazy pace, gathering the other in their arms as soft chuckles and moans filled the air between them. For a moment they were back to their weeding night, were they had drunk once again more than it was humanly possible and they recited their vows while they made love. Five had always craved the softeness, the intimacy of this act were you could still be coherent to treasure and worship your other half with receiving and giving pleasure.

"I take you as mine, knowing and loving all of your strengths and faults, just as I offer myself to you as yours with all of my strengths and faults. I will be there for you in your times of need, just as I know I can turn to you when I need a guiding hand."

Tears were slipping past his eyes as he repeated his oath over and over. He had to make her remember just how much he loved her, because if they were going to die, she had to know that she was loved and treasured, and that he would do anything to make thing right once again.

The angry red sky was what greeted them and found them in each other's arms with pounding headaches and disturbed groans. His face was buried in her neck, drawing in her familiar scent, waiting for her wrath to unveil and kick him out. He had stepped over the line last night, they had both been drunk and not clear headed as things went too far. Yet her fingertips drew shaped in his spine and a chill raced in his bones.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was so soft it could have been lost in the mayhem that surrounded them. Five unfurled himself from around her and leaned in his arms staying on top of her, keeping his weight off of her.

"No. Don't do that. I am the one who should be apologizing."

"No... I- look I do not want us to die and still be angry with each other."

"I could never stay angry with you... not for too long at least." He let her startled laugh wash over him and he softly smiled at her as she nuzzled her face on his chest and hugged him close.

"You don't hate me?" She whispered in a defeated voice.

"I could never hate you my love"

words: 1.237

TAGLIST: @js-favnanadoongi @loca4moony @inkedeye2345 @baguettehead @stvrlitsky

[badkitty3000]

One Fateful Day

Five x Single Mom reader, one-shot, 5k words

Warnings: None!

I received a request quite a while ago for a fluffy, sweet one-shot where Five befriends a single mom. Hope you like a super soft Five, cause that's what this is! ❤️

A/N: This image was made entirely with AI, as you can probably tell by the glaringly bad mistakes.

Five listened to the sound of happy children playing and screaming, along with the quiet hum of distant traffic and the crunch of bike tires as they rolled across the gravel pathways of his favorite city park. He found his usual bench, brushing off a few fallen leaves before easing himself onto it with the groan of someone years older than he looked. As soon as he was situated, he glanced around and waited. It never took long before they found him. Sure enough, less than 30 seconds later, the gang of ne’er-do-wells showed up out of nowhere.

Five’s bird friends consisted mostly of some mangy looking pigeons, a few brown sparrows, and one particularly ornery blue jay. They knew him by sight and would flock at his feet whenever he came to visit. As they gathered around, cooing, chirping and hopping excitedly, Five smiled down at them.

“Hi, guys,” he said quietly. “How’ve you been? Staying out of trouble?”

As usual, he received no real response, but more flitters and flapping of wings. That was ok, though. He didn’t mind the one-sided conversations.

Pulling a small bag of bird seed out of his inside coat pocket, he continued talking.

“Sorry I missed you yesterday.” He sprinkled a handful of the seed on the ground and watched as the excitement of the crew intensified. “Klaus needed a ride to the dentist. He said to say hi.”

Five watched the intricate dance of bird hierarchy unraveling before him. He already knew their order of rank and which bird was going to get the majority of the feast while the others waited their turns.

“Wren Franklin…be nice. Bernice isn’t taking your share, Jack Sparrow, so quit your squawking.”

He threw another handful on the ground. “Trucker Bob, it’s ok buddy…you get on in there, they aren’t going to hurt you.” Five suddenly stomped his foot at the blue jay, causing everyone to scatter for a brief moment before scurrying back again. “Sandra Jay O’Connor, I saw that! If I see you peck at poor Mr. Tippington again, you will be banned for a month!”

As Five cursed the blue jay while cooing soft words of encouragement to a small and plain-looking brown bird, he heard a quiet giggle nearby. Sensing it was aimed in his direction, he looked up. On the next bench over, he saw you. Your eyes sparkled as you tried to stifle your laugh. You looked abruptly away as soon as Five glanced at you.

Five smiled softly to himself. He knew he looked and sounded like a crazy person. But he sensed you weren’t making fun of him, just that you were amused.

“You laugh, but I’ve seen that bird fly right onto a man’s head and fly off with his toupee purely for spite. Granted, she was probably doing him a favor because it was god awful, but still.”

You looked at Five and laughed shyly again before shaking your head. “I had no idea bird crime was so rampant in this city.”

“Oh, yes,” Five nodded solemnly. “In fact, I advise you to stay away from the park at night. You might find yourself in the middle of a fly-by shooting. Lots of bird gang violence around here.”

“Is that so? Well, thank you for the heads up,” you said with a smile. Just then, your 5 year-old daughter ran up, out of breath. You handed her a bottle of water. “Ready to go, sweetie?”

The little girl nodded while taking a sip. “Yep.”

You got up and started to walk away, taking your daughter’s hand in yours. You stopped and looked back at Five, who was still watching you. “Have a nice afternoon with your friends there, and I hope Mr. Tippington is ok.”

Five grinned widely. “Thank you, and he’ll be just fine.”

You nodded with a smile and turned to leave. Five watched you go, ignoring the fact that his feathered friends were now clearly irritated that their benefactor had yet to give them their full ration of seed for the day.

Two days later, and Five was back on his favorite bench. As he was in the middle of another inciteful, one-way conversation with his buddies on the ground, he heard a familiar voice from behind.

“Go along and play, Cassie, I’ll watch you from here.”

When Five turned, he saw you standing there. Your eyes sparkled in the sunlight just like the first time he saw you.

“So, do these birds do anything for you in return for you feeding them? Like bringing you gifts, or doing your taxes?” you teased.

Five chuckled. “No. They just let me talk their ears off while they eat.”

“Huh. Do birds have ears?”

Five shrugged. “You know, I’m not sure. Maybe that’s why they don’t care that I’m talking at them.”

You laughed and gestured to the empty side of Five’s bench. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

As Five moved over to make more room for you, you introduced yourself with a handshake.

“Nice to meet you. Five Hargreeves,” he said.

“Hargreeves? Why does that name sound familiar?” you asked, tilting your head.

Five sighed quietly. He really wondered why he hadn’t just picked another name by now. It would make things so much easier.

“Does The Umbrella Academy ring any bells?”

You were thoughtful for a second and then the lightbulb went on. “You’re kidding! You were…are…one of them?”

Five nodded. “Sure am. Good old Number Five.”

“I see,” you responded with a smile as you looked him up and down. “So, which one were you? I mean, what can you do?”

“Teleportation. Time travel.” He paused. “Pigeon summoning.”

You laughed. “Very cool. I can see your very impressive pigeon power in action now, but you’ll have to show me the others sometime.”

Five smiled. “Sure thing.”

You nodded. “Ok, Number Five. So, I’ve seen you around the park here a lot. Are you here with your kids, too?”

Five felt called out and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks. “Uh, no. No kids.” He was really hoping you didn’t think he was some creeper hanging out at the park for less innocent reasons. “Don’t worry, though. I just like to come here and feed these guys,” he explained, gesturing to the birds on the ground. “It’s like therapy but without the judgment and bill at the end.”

You looked dubious for just a moment, glancing over at the play structure where your daughter was swinging happily. But when you turned to face Five again, you relaxed. You glanced down at the birds. “They certainly seem to like you.”

Five shrugged. “I think they just view me as a human vending machine.” He held out the bag of seed towards you. “Want to be the hero?”

You nodded and reached into the bag, scooping up some seed and tossing it on the ground. The birds went crazy, tweeting and flapping their wings, making you laugh. Five grinned.

“See? They have no loyalty.”

“I see that. But you have names for them all?”

“Ah, well…some of them. At least the usual ones that come around. It’s rather interesting to observe their little avian society.” Five stopped, realizing that he sounded like a weirdo. “I’m sorry. I’m not a complete lunatic, I promise.”

You laughed, and once again Five could tell you weren’t making fun of him. You seemed genuinely charmed by him. You also had a very calming presence, he noticed. He didn’t feel awkward or on edge when talking with you, which was a refreshing change of pace these days.

“I don’t think you’re a lunatic. Believe me, I can spot them from a mile away and you’re not one.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

You jumped when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket from an incoming call. You held it up to Five with an exasperated sigh. “Sorry, I have to take this. It’s my ex and he’s supposed to take our daughter this weekend, so I have to figure out the details.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

As you turned to walk away for more privacy, Five took a look over at the playground. He saw the little girl you had called Cassie, climbing up the ladder to the monkey bars. She was small and Five watched as she got to the top rung, hesitantly reaching out for the first bar to cross. As she swung out, Five could see she wasn’t truly comfortable with what she was doing, and the ground was pretty far below. He stood up, looking over at you, but your back was turned as you were trying to focus on the call. When he turned back to the girl, he saw it start to happen like it was in slow motion. On the second bar, one of her hands started to slip, leaving her dangling by a few fingers. She let out a scream that got your attention, but it was too late.

Just as your daughter lost her grip with her remaining hand and began to fall to the ground, Five blinked directly under her, catching her just in time. As he stood there with your daughter in his arms, both of them looking shocked, you ran over in a panic.

“Cassie! Oh my god, are you ok?”

She nodded, still looking up at the mysterious man that had appeared out of the literal blue to save her. “Yeah.”

Five set her down and she ran to you, hugging you tightly around your waist. You held her to you and looked up at Five.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I can’t believe I wasn’t watching…but you were…oh my god if you weren’t here…”

“No problem. I’m just glad I got there in time.”

You choked back the tears you could feel coming on. “I’m a terrible mother, aren’t I? I just let my kid fall off the monkey bars because I wasn’t paying attention. What kind of person does that?”

Five smiled gently. “A normal one. Of course you’re not a terrible mother.”

“You don’t even know me,” you sniffed with a smile.

“True. But in the very short time we’ve been talking, I can tell that you’re a great parent. Just like you can sniff out the lunatics, I can spot a shitty parent a mile away.”

Cassie let go of you, glancing back at Five with a smile and then back at you. “It’s true, mommy, you’re not shitty at all.”

“Cassie!” you gasped in horror at your daughter’s language.

Five tried to hold it in, but he had to laugh, which made Cassie laugh, which then made you laugh.

 “Sorry, I think that’s my fault,” Five said.

“Well, I’d like to blame you, but the truth is I have a bad habit of swearing like a sailor myself. I just usually try to keep it to a minimum around her, but I’m not always successful.”

Five nodded with a smile before crouching down in front of Cassie. “Maybe next time stick with the swings, ok?”

Cassie frowned, her eyebrows scrunched together as she crossed her arms. “Swings are for babies. I can DO the monkey bars, but these were slippery. Someone made them slippery.”

Five looked back up at you with a grin, then back at Cassie, fixing his face so that he was serious again. “I bet they did. That seems like a very logical explanation; I can tell you are very smart.”

Cassie uncrossed her arms with a smile and nodded. “I am! I get in trouble at school for saying I’m smarter than the other kids, but it’s not my fault. I’m only telling the truth.”

“We’re working on being humble, aren’t we Cassie?” you said in a reproving way.

Five chuckled and leaned in to whisper to Cassie, making sure he was still loud enough that you could hear. “I completely understand. I have the same problem.”

The little girl nodded solemnly, recognizing a fellow put-upon genius in her midst. She looked back up at you. “Can I go on the slide now?”

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yes, I’m ok.”

“Alright, then. I promise I’ll be watching.”

As she ran off to the slide, you turned to Five. “I should probably go over and stand at the bottom. Just in case.”

“Oh sure, I understand.”

“Really, I can’t thank you enough, Five. You’re amazing.”

Five put his hands in his pockets and smiled shyly. “I think amazing is a bit much, but you’re welcome.”

“So, will you be coming by to feed your buddies tomorrow?”

“Most likely, yes.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I was thinking that I might bring Cassie back here tomorrow as well. Maybe around 2pm? Do you think you’ll be here then?”

“I think I will definitely be here at 2pm.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.”

With a smile, you gave him a small wave and turned to go join your daughter at the slide. Five watched you walk away, unable to keep the growing grin off his face. This was the most interaction he’d had with anyone that wasn’t part of his family in a very long time and it felt surprisingly good. Really good.

The next day, Five was already waiting at his usual bench when you and Cassie found your way over to him. When he saw you, he stood up, holding out a cup of coffee for you. His own cup was on the bench next to where he had been sitting.

“I wasn’t sure how you liked it. Or, even if you drank coffee, but here you go. It’s just black.”

As you took the cup, you giggled. “Yes, I do drink coffee, and black is perfect. Thank you so much, that wasn’t necessary.”

Five shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I was getting one for myself anyway, so it was no trouble.”

Cassie watched as you and Five stood there smiling at one another, but not saying anything. Her eyebrows came together and she looked up at Five, tilting her head to one side.

“My mom said your name is Five.”

Snapping out of his trance, he addressed Cassie. “Yes, it is.”

“That’s a number.”

“Yes, it is.”

“That’s how old I am.”

Five nodded. “You seem very mature for your age.”

She paused, eyeing him up thoughtfully. “Five’s a weird name.”

“Cassie!” you cried out, completely embarrassed at your daughter’s lack of a filter.

Biting back a laugh, Five pretended to look confused. “What do you mean it’s weird? I know at least a dozen other people named Five.”

Cassie paused, trying to determine if he was telling the truth or not. Then she shook her head with a small smile. “No, you don’t.”

Five grinned. “See? I knew you were smart.”

You laughed at their interaction, looking around. “So, where are your friends?”

“Oh, I haven’t put out the buffet yet. They’ll be here though.” He turned to Cassie. “Would you like to help feed some very ungrateful birds with me?”

The little girl’s face lit up. “Yes!”

“Ok, then, here you go,” Five took out his usual bag of birdseed and handed it to Cassie. “Just start sprinkling it on the ground. They’ll be here before you know it.”

As she took the seed and started to throw handfuls around and up in the air, laughing to herself, you and Five sat on the bench and watched. Sure enough, after about a minute, the small flock began to swoop in. Five identified all of them that had names, which made Cassie laugh even harder. As she giggled and let out little shrieks of joy while she continued to throw them more food, you turned to Five.

“I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “It’s been really hard on her since the divorce. She has to go back and forth from house to house every week. It’s stressful and I can see it taking a toll on her. Which, naturally, makes me feel like shit.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Five said earnestly. “But even if it’s hard on her now, it will be better for her in the long run. Kids are resilient and she really is very smart, so I have no doubt she’ll be fine. What happened with you and your ex, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Well,” you sighed, “it’s a long story. But the short version is that we got together when we were young and just outgrew one another over time. He’s not a bad guy, but we argued all the time. The love was gone and we just didn’t want to fight anymore.” You looked over at Cassie with a guilty frown. “I just wish I could protect her from all of this.”

Five was silent for a moment as he took that in. “Look, I’m not a parent and I don’t pretend to know anything about marriage, but I can tell you that it sounds like you did her a favor. Growing up in a house with constant bickering can be stressful in its own right. And not seeing any love between parents is even worse. So, she’ll be more than fine. You showed her that everyone deserves to be happy and she’ll carry that with her as she grows older.”

It had been so long since someone had said exactly what you needed to hear, that you immediately started to tear up. Hurriedly wiping your eyes, you laughed at yourself.

“Sorry, I’m not sure what’s wrong with me.” You looked up at Five with a grateful smile and patted his hand that was next to yours. “Thank you for that. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Five swallowed nervously and looked down at your hand on top of his. “You’re welcome. And who knows, maybe you’ll find the right person down the road.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, taking in his clear green eyes. “Maybe I will.”

“Mommy look!” Cassie shrieked with a laugh, jarring you and Five out of your moment.

You quickly pulled your hand away, turning your attention back to your daughter. She was standing there, smiling ear to ear, as a small, skinny pigeon sat on her shoulder like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“It likes me!”

Five laughed, shaking his head. “I have been coming here for months and not one of those damn birds has ever sat on me like that.”

You laughed, too. “Unbelievable.”

“What’s this one’s name, Five?” Cassie giggled.

“Oh, uh…yeah, that’s…Fred.”

As Cassie continued on, feeding and talking to Fred, you looked over at Five. “What was that about?”

He ran a hand through his hair and lowered his voice. “I actually call that one Fuck Face.”

When you doubled over with laughter, Five grinned from ear to ear. He’d never made anyone laugh like that before, and it was the best he’d felt in a very long time.

Over the next few weeks, you and Five built up a close friendship. He listened to your stories about single mom life and how it could be lonely and difficult. You listened to his stories of his traumatic past and how he was attempting to live as a normal man for once in his life. The conversation came easily and you never felt awkward around one another. Soon, he had integrated himself into your life, and into Cassie’s, too.

She loved spending time with Five, and on the days when you didn’t see him, she always asked about him. He liked to tease her and she was always ready with her own zingers to sling back at him. When she told him bad knock knock jokes, he would groan and tell her how horrible they were, but he would be smiling the whole time. You would sit back, watching their banter, thinking how cute they were. 

There were more play dates at the park, more bird feedings, then lunch at a café, and eventually Sunday dinners at your house. Five had never felt this comfortable in his own skin before, and he actually thought he might have found what he had been looking for this whole time. Happiness.

Even though he had become such a big part of your life in such a short time, you and Five had not moved past the friends stage. You were still a little gun shy after the divorce, and you weren’t even sure Five was interested in you that way. Sure, there had been several times when you had caught him looking at you in that way that made your heart do a little flip in your chest. And maybe your breath hitched a little whenever his hand brushed against yours in passing. But you liked how things were between you. At least for now.

Five wasn’t sure how you felt about him, either. He knew you were coming off a bad relationship and you probably wanted nothing to do with men for the time being. He definitely liked spending time with you, though. He found he looked forward to it more and more. Seeing you smile when you saw him was the best part of his day. But he didn’t want to assume you were interested in anything more. If he made a move and you shot him down, not only would it be embarrassing, it might ruin what you already had. And that was too important to lose.

The three of you were at the park again, and you watched as Cassie dragged Five off toward her favorite twisty slide, taking his hand and pulling him along while he pretended to grumble about it. After he was forced to slide down the plastic slide, you laughed loudly when you saw him reach the bottom.

“What?” he asked, brushing the dust off of his pristinely pressed slacks.

“Your hair!” you laughed. “The static made it stick straight up!”

He patted at his crazy hair with a frown and tried to smash it down, which made you laugh even harder. After Cassie came tumbling out of the slide herself, Five pretended to be annoyed with her.

“Hey, kid, you didn’t tell me that slide would mess up my hair.”

Cassie giggled. “You look funny. Like a porcupine.”

After Five fixed himself as best he could, Cassie took his hand and tugged on it again, this time trying to get him to crouch down to her level. When he did, she rested her hand on his forehead for a second, pulling it back with a frown. Then she looked at Five with a shake of her head. “You don’t feel hot.”

“Should I? I’m not feeling sick.”

She looked over at you. “I heard you talking to Taylor’s mom at the bus stop and you said Five was hot.” She put her hand on his cheek. “He feels normal.”

If the ground suddenly opened up and swallowed you whole, you would not have been more grateful. Instead, you remained frozen, your face on fire and your mouth trying to form words that wouldn’t come.

“Uh…” was all that you stammered out.

In true kid fashion, Cassie was oblivious to the faux pas she created. As Five slowly stood up again, and Cassie skipped off to the swing set, unbothered by it all, his eyes met yours. The self-satisfied smirk on his face spoke a thousand words.

“You said I was hot?”

“I…no…I mean well yeah…kind of…” you tried to stumble your way through a cohesive sentence.

Five adopted his typical cool stance, with his hands in his pockets, as he continued to grin like an absolute asshole. “So, is Taylor’s mom cute? Did you give her my number?”

After a few more seconds of being mortified, you started to see the humor in the situation. You relaxed and laughed quietly, looking at the ground with a shake of your head. “Damn it, you’re an asshole sometimes, you know?”

“But still hot, right?”

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” you said with a groan.

Five shook his head slowly. “Probably not.”

As you ran a hand down your still-flushed face, you sighed. With a raised eyebrow, you jabbed a finger in his direction. “You fucking know you’re hot, too. That’s what makes it worse.” When he laughed, but didn’t deny it, you sighed again.

On your way over to the swings, Five bumped you with his elbow. “You’re pretty hot yourself, you know.”

When you looked over, you saw the corner of his mouth turn up as he swallowed hard. His eyes skirted away from yours as he looked at the ground.

“Thanks, Five,” you said, suddenly feeling very warm again.

“You’re welcome.”

It was a few days later when your little trio was walking to the park from your house. After Five had joined you for dinner, you had decided to take some of the leftover bread to his group of feathered friends. As you got close to Five’s regular bench, Cassie stopped him.

“Wait. Can you do the whooshing thing with me?”

Five chuckled. “You mean blinking? I suppose. If your mom doesn’t mind.”

“You can do my mom, too,” Cassie added.

Trying to hide a laugh, he nodded. “I would love to do your mom.”

Even though that little side comment sent a tingle down your spine, you pretended you hadn’t noticed. “It’s ok, you two go ahead.”

Five shot you a very devious grin before grabbing you both by the arms and blinking you over to the bench. Your shriek of surprise was cut short as you appeared out of his portal. Cassie was falling on the ground in a fit of giggles while you tried to catch your breath with a hand on your chest.

“Sorry,” Five said, unsuccessfully holding back his own glee.

“You are not, liar,” you laughed.

With a shrug and a grin, Five handed Cassie the bread for the birds. “Here you go, kid, they should be pretty happy with this feast.”

When Cassie opened the bag and spread the crumbs on the ground, the birds descended, recognizing their new, smaller food-bringer.

“Mr. Tippington, it’s ok,” Cassie cooed to the little brown bird that had become her favorite. “Trucker Bob, you’ll like today’s dinner, it’s bread!” She swatted the angry blue jay away, just like Five had shown her. “Sandra Jay…you be nice or no one will be your friend.”

Sitting next to Five, on the bench where you had first saw him talking to those ridiculous birds, you turned to him and studied his profile. You knew his face more intimately than anyone else’s, you thought. How many times had you stared at it while he was talking? Taking in the sharp angles of his jaw and the way he swept the hair out of his eyes with an agitated hand. It made you wonder…what was stopping you from doing what you really wanted?

Out of nowhere, you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but let out a short burst of laughter because the expression on his face was one of complete and utter confusion.

“Sorry,” you said, looking down at your lap. “I couldn’t resist.”

After a few seconds of Five trying to get his wits about him again, he smiled. “I’m so glad you did that first.”

“What do you mea—”

Your question was cut off by Five’s lips meeting yours, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. His kiss was soft and pure, and unlike any other kiss you’d had before. When you finally opened your eyes, meeting his gorgeous emerald ones, you felt so good you couldn’t contain your giant grin.

“I’m not sure what took me so long,” you confessed.

“Me either,” Five said with a chuckle before leaning in again, letting himself get lost in the softness of your lips and the sound of your quiet, contented sigh.

It was magical, pure and simple, and he wasn’t even sure how this was even possible. He wasn’t sure he was deserving of it, but he would take it.

“EW!!!”

You and Five jumped, pulling apart abruptly as Cassie looked on, hands on her hips.

“That’s gross,” she complained.

“Sorry, honey, uh…Five and I were just…”

“Mommy, I’m not dumb. I know you were kissing and it’s definitely yucky. You’re going to get germs.” She paused. “Are you married now?”

Five laughed, and covered your hand with his. “No, we’re not married. But we like each other, is that ok?”

Cassie thought for a moment, the birds around her seeming to stop and think with her. “Yeah, it’s ok. Just remember I want a baby sister, not a baby brother.” Then she turned back to her birds, ignoring the two shocked adults.

“Well…sorry about that,” you responded with a cringe.

“No need to apologize. These are all good things to know. Yes to a baby sister, no to a baby brother.”

“Oh my gosh,” you said, covering your eyes in embarrassment.

Five gently moved your hand away. When you looked back at him, his soft smile told you everything you needed to know. And when he leaned in for another kiss, you felt like you were finally where you were supposed to be.

“I want this. Do you?” he asked, his voice heartbreakingly quiet.

You nodded. “Yes. I feel like…like we’re meant to be somehow. Does that make sense?”

“It makes perfect sense,” Five said before kissing you once again, cradling your face in his hand.

Five had found what he had never dared to dream of. Someone he didn’t have to lie to, or pretend with, or put up a wall against. You liked him for who he was, and he wasn’t ashamed of anything when he was with you. You brought out all of the good within him, and he never felt safer than when he was with you and Cassie. You and she were his found family; the key to his happiness.

As for you, you had finally found the right person. Somehow, Five had become your best friend and confidant. And now, he was something more. Someone that understood you and knew the real you, all the way down to your bones. He was all you had been waiting for, and you couldn’t wait to start a new chapter of your life with him.

[thebearmage]

Hi! Could I request an one shot about Five&Wife!Reader set in S3 at the wedding, where Y/N worries about Five's drinking frenzy and takes care of him that night? Ya know, that usual drunk words are honest words, world ending stuff etc. I'm just into fluff right now 😭 Maybe Five and Y/N are mentally and physically the same age and know each other from the apocalypse to make it make sense. I loved In Their Arms! Five deserves love. If it's not something you're interested in to write don't worry💜

Put that down!!

Five Hargreeves x Wife!Reader

Summary: During Slone and Luther's wedding, Five goes all out on his drinking. You, being the responsible one, remain sober to take care of him. It goes as one would expect.

NOTE: I went for a bit more humor and angst here too, hope that's okay. Also, The Reader is a Speedster like The CW's Flash. So you can also time travel.

Also (F/C), for anyone who doesn't know, means Favorite Color.

Five and reader are both 18+

"Ah, here we go,"

You turn to look and see where Five is going. The alcohol, of course.

"Oh no," You put your face in your hands, "There goes my plans for the night,"

You and Five are happily married. You were once number 8, born with superspeed and the many different abilities that came with it.

When Five ran off that day, you had used your speed to follow him. You both traveled through time, finding it fun before Five got stuck in the future. Your time travel abilities weren't as limited as his, so you could've left. But you hadn't known if you could take Five with you, so you'd stayed. You didn't want him to be alone.

You and Five were happy together. You and Five had a daughter named Delores and lived in an abandoned library. Life was good and simple then.

Then The Handler showed up and swept you both into trauma after trauma. And then, to top it all off, when you both finally went back, you both got stuck in your 18-year-old bodies.

Now, after failing to save the world a third time, you were at Luther and Sloane's wedding watching as your husband went to get drunk.

You were not much of a drinker yourself, you never really liked the taste and HATED it when Five drank. Tonight, however, you'd let it slide, but you knew you'd have your hands full looking after him.

As the night progressed, you watched your husband slowly get more and more drunk.

You had fun though. Everyone dancing together was enjoyable and you had used the (F/C) lightning that came off your body when running to spice up the floor a bit.

You were twirling around in your dress when you heard Five's voice. You watched, trying so hard not to laugh, as his drunk-as-fuck-ass gave a moving speech to Luther.

You liked Five's singing though, you walked up to the stage and joined him. Wrapping an arm around him.

When everyone moved onto the patio, you had gone off to power your nose. So Five had gone out by himself.

When you went to find the group, half of them were gone, including Five.

"Oh no," you mumble, you stop Luther as he starts to walk Sloane inside, "Where's Five?"

Luther chuckles, "Said he was going to the buffet,"

You sigh and superspeed there, looking around. No Five. You growl and continue to run through the hotel. The (F/C) sparks and a strong breeze followed you everywhere you went.

You soon found Five wandering throughout the halls with cereal in his hands. You zip in front of him and smile.

"There you are,"

Five stumbles at the breeze you make but looks up and smiles when he sees you.

"Y/N!!" He jumps up and glomps you. You're so thankful that minor super strength is part of superspeed because if it wasn't, Five would have knocked you over.

"Hey, baby," you whisper, kissing his cheek, "What are we up to, hmm?"

Five blinks heavily a few times, looking at the cereal in his hands before shrugging, "I dunno,"

You laugh and kiss him softly, "Maybe it's time take you to bed,"

Five wriggles his eyebrows and locks his arms around your neck, "Take me to bed, huh?"

You playfully push his face away from yours, "Not like that. That's the LAST thing you need. I mean sleep, mister,"

Five whines, "Nooo, the night is still young!" He throws his arms out dramatically, "and I have plans,"

You raises your eyebrows in mock fear, "Plans?"

"Plans! Yes!" Five slurs poking your chest, "Lots and lots of plans!"

Five then stumbles over to the plant in the corner of the room, you wince as he vomits. Kneeling down next to him, and rubbing his back.

"There, there, sweetie, get it out," you urge, "It's alright,"

“With everything we discussed, it’d be folly to wait,” A voice said. You snap your head around and even Five looks curious.

The white buffalo suite door is cracked open, and you two can see Reginald, “There is no time. I can’t do this without you.”

Both you and Five press against the crack in the door, straining to see who he’s talking to. You use your speed to faze through the door, only for a moment, and see Allison.

“Do we have a deal?”

"Shit," you whisper, gently coaxing Five up, "Come on, baby, we have to go,"

"What why?" Five asked, already forgetting what just happened, "Wh-" then he wobbles "Oh shit,"

Five tips backward into your arms. You weren't prepared this time so his weight sends you both into the elevator. You grunt as you land on the hard floor, with Five completely passed out on top of you.

The doors close and you sigh. You knew Allison was unstable but this...this meant trouble. You look at Five in your lap and smile. Allison will have to wait, you have your husband to take care of.

As the doors slowly open again, you pull Five to his feet and start dragging him down the hall to your room. He wakes up half-way there are starts to protest.

"No! Please! I wanna keep going," he mumbles, you shake your head.

"You're way too drunk to do anything, my love," you say, Five shakes his own head.

"Am not!"

You look at him, "Oh really? Can you look at that clock and tell me what it says,"

"It says 'Five is not fucking drunk'" he turns around, all proud of himself. You only look at him unamused,

"Okay, bed time!"

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

You drag Five to the door and lock the door. He instantly blinks away.

"FIVE!"

You run out to find him running down the hall, cackling.

"You can't catch me!"

"Oh, for the love of!"

You speed up to him, only for him to blink again. You rub your temples.

"Come on, Five. You need sleep and I'm growing tired. Let's go to bed,"

Five, appearing at the end of the hallway, tilts his head in concertation, "Nah,"

"I'll snuggle you," You offer, "Just how you like it,"

"Ooh!" Five seems interested for a moment, then shakes his head, "Nah!"

He's gone once again, causing you to huff. You wounder if it was better for him to just run himself out.

You shake your head, you can't leave him. You run after him.

Soon, the entire hotel is light up with blue and (F/C) lights as you chase Five around the hotel.

You find Five pilling a bunch of mannequins into some machine and pouring soap in.

"No!" You cry, causing him to stop, "Put that down!"

Five beams and holds the soap closer,

"No! Put it down. Put it...down!"

Five pouts and drops the soap, "You're no fun sometimes, Y/N,"

Aaaannnnd there he goes. You decide to just wait it out. The next few hours you run around, following Five but no longer trying to stop his drunken antics.

Before long you find him snuggled up under the radiator in the kitchen. You smile and shake your head fondly before picking him up.

He snuggles your chest as his eyes flutter open, "Y/N?"

"Yes, my love, it's me," You shift him a bit to get a better hold on him, "I'm taking you back to our room,"

He nods and lets his arms dangle under him, "You're so amazing, you know that," he murmurs, "So...so...amazing,"

You laugh, "Thank you, baby,"

Five takes a bit of your dress in his fingers, "Is this the one I bought you?"

"Bought?" You chuckle, "You mean stole, but yes,"

Five sighs happily, resting his head on your chest and looking up at you, "You're so pretty," his smile is dreamy, "I love you so much,"

You smile and finally reach the room, you faze in and walk over to the bed, laying Five down.

His body relaxes into the mattress as he sighs in bliss. You slowly help him take off his shoes and vest before helping him change into more comfortable clothes.

"I love you," he mumbles for the 10th time, "I love you so much,"

"I love you too," you smile, quickly changing your own clothes using your speed, Five smiles.

"I love your power," he picks at his nail slightly, "It's so beautiful and powerful,"

You smile, "Yours is too," you lay down next to him, "Now sleep honey, it'll be alright,"

Five hugs you like a koala, arms around your chest, legs around your waist, "I'm so glad I get to spend my final days with you," he mumbles, "I love you,"

You kiss him softly, "I love you too, now rest,"

Five nuzzles into your chest. You smile and run a hand through his hair, listening the the noises of the kugelblitz outside.

"I wouldn't mind trying one last time," you mutter, "You're worth saving, my love,"

Five makes a noise in his sleep and you smile,

"Sweetest of dreams, Number Five," you kiss his head, "I will always be with you,"

———————❖———————

I love writing this one! It was so cute and fluffy! I tired to add some humor but idk how I did. Requests are still open so feel free to send in some more! Also, a part three to Mindless will be out soon so look for that. Thanks again for reading!

[ballerinarina]

LOVE ON SUBWAYS AND TAGETES

FIVE HARGREEVES X Fem!OC

Synopsis: On Christmas, Five and Lila manage to return to their timeline after seven years of living together, lost. Izabela notices that something is strange, but it is only when Diego and Five engage in a discussion with confessions that she realizes that she has been betrayed. While everyone heads to the van to prevent the end of the world, Izabela asks for a few minutes alone with Five to settle things, dot the i's and cross the t's; Word Count: 3.2k Tags: spoilers, angst, cheating, fluff, slightly canon divergence (but Lila x Five/end of S4 still happened)

Note: It's been years since I tried to write something (and I never tried to do it in English before), but I hope it worked out! You can listen to the FANFIC PLAYLIST HERE and here you can read about my OC, but it's perfectly enjoyable to read it knowing nothing about her, or imagining youself in her place! I wrote thinking that they both look ± 20 years old. Please enjoy and tell me what you think! ♡

CLICK TO PORTUGUESE VERSION

Something was off, Izabela could tell as soon as her eyes fell on Five. The boy had never been the really outgoing, smiling or affectionate type, but at that moment he didn't even seem present in Diego's living room. His unstable and lost look, the worried wrinkle on his forehead and a tense and insincere return of affection when Izabela welcomed him into the kitchen with a hug put her on alert.

It had always been easy for her to read him, but a hint of confusion seemed to be beeping in her mind now. Keeping her distance and giving him space — at least until he could organize his own thoughts —Izabela was sitting on the arm of the sofa next to her husband, without touching him, just with her senses attentive and worried as she observed him like an enigma.

A tired sigh escapes her mouth as she foresees that Five's anxious restlessness combined with Luther's comments about the apocalypse could only result in nothing good. It was Christmas Day and, from the bottom of her heart, as unlikely as it was, Izabela was wishing that the end-of-the-world problems had magically resolved themselves — or at least been paused, as the previous moments of tranquility seemed to suggest. Not unexpectedly, they were not, so sure enough: as soon as she gets up and heads to the kitchen, mentally using the excuse of taking the Brazilian mayonnaise salad out of the fridge to get away from the depressing subject, she hears Five's stressed voice picking a fight with his brothers.

Escaping the realization of the apocalypse as an existence in her mind (for the fourth time) was her goal as she grabbed the tray and the dishes, trying to distract herself from Diego and Five's argument. With the kitchen right in the next room, the attempt was naive and failed: Izabela could feel the anxiety rising up her spine. She had never seen her husband so hopeless, but not even for a second found this behavior strange among the others. She herself couldn't take it anymore and, good heavens, she hated loud noises, hated missing Christmas, hated her brothers fighting — even though she wasn't much less temperamental than them —, hated not understanding what was happening to Five, and, most of all, hated the end of the world.

She opened and closed the drawers of that house that wasn't hers on impulse, more as an outlet than really interested in finding cutlery to serve the mayonnaise, when she felt her body freeze at the sound of Diego's voice cutting through the air.

“Is something going on between you two?”

Below her, the sought-after steel spoons and forks gleamed, reflecting her pale face and no longer showed interest in any meal.

“Diego…”

“Holy shit!”

In her ears, Five's silence pierces more than any of those sharp knives could. Refusal is the modus operandi that Izabela's mind immediately activates, only retaining strength amidst the shock to slightly shake her head in denial to herself. She thinks she must have misunderstood, sharpens her ears, holds back her despair. But no.

Five and Lila were having an affair.

To Izabela's anguish, Diego and his wife's voices were the last things she wanted to hear, but they were the ones talking, talking, talking amidst the suffocating silence that settled over the house like a funeral, squeezing her chest and leaving her breathless. Five and Lila were together.

Why? Was that why Five was acting strange? How had she not noticed before? When had she lost her husband? At what point had Five stopped being the person she trusted most in the world? In what world had she stopped being the person he trusted most? Why hadn’t he told her himself? Had she done something wrong?

“Yeah. You think I’m gonna buy that bullshit?”

Not even noticing when it began a state of near hyperventilation, Izabela's breathing only catches when Five's voice finally silences her thoughts:

“She’s telling the truth, all right? We got lost. We couldn’t find our way back.”

“We were searching for seven years, Diego…”

A gasp. No. No, no, no — it is horror what gradually fills every cell of Izabela's body, like blood spreading across a carpet.

Seven years. The pieces fit together almost in slow motion in her head, with her mouth half open, wanting to cry, but unable to emit even a single sob. It is towards the open door that her body turns without even needing an order, but it is her own steps that seem to weigh a thousand tons, and it is on the threshold that she stops once again. Leaning on the doorpost, without the courage to step outside and face her husband. Her husband, from whom she had lost seven whole years.

“We were chased, attacked, shot at…”

Each of Lila's words of explanation numbs her from afar as they settle into her diaphragm like stones. As if 45 years without Five hadn't been enough. As if the imminent end of times wasn't enough. It all sets up a scenario so desperate that it turns all sadness into apathetic disgust on her tongue.

Claire’s interruption comes like a ghost that straightens her posture and wipes away the moisture that escaped as it pooled in her eyes. Pursing the lips in bitterness, the information of Ben’s location is an almost physical reminder to Izabela that, whether she likes it or not, she will have to be part of the Umbrella Academy once again, so repressing all this futile conflict is her only option at the moment.

Swallowing the feelings, however, doesn't take away the agony in her heart and, with a shaky sigh trying to regain her composure, she fails to maintain the cool when her eyes meet the back of Five's figure as she enters the room. More than ever, Izabela wants to be practical, to go prevent the end of the world once and for all while stifling any thoughts about this terrifying situation playing with her head, but she knows she would never be able to win any fight like that. In a mirror of her unconscious distress, she exchanges glances with Klaus, the only one on the couch who noticed her in the corner of the room. "I just need a few minutes. Please." he doesn't need words to understand and, with a certain pity, he doesn't hesitate to stand up and encourage the rest of the family towards the van, distracting them with some Klaus-style comment that Izabela honestly can't process.

Feeling her presence as he had for so many years in his past, Five turns around, meeting Izabela's gaze, who mentally catalogues the worst nausea she has ever been condemned to feel when looking at her husband and wondering if she finds a stranger there. The eyes trying not to run over every detail of that face only now notice how much sadder and tired it seems compared to the last time she outlined his features. The silence traps them in a trance in which she finds herself unable to think of anything to say, until she hears the living room door slam, looking away at it and noticing that it was closed. The boy sighs and purses his lips; they were alone.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Is it true? Everything Lila said?” going back to stare at him, the words slip through her mouth, almost like an escape “Did I miss seven years of you?”

“All this time I tried to come back, Izabela…”

A quick shake of her head, Izabela crosses her arms in a tic. What he tries to justify, with such a cautious voice, had never been the question for her.

“I believe you.” pause “And… even if it’s not true, Five. It’s been seven years.”

“Yeah.”

That wasn't the tightness in her chest. She knows Five well, she knows her brother and husband well, and knows how he had spent decades trying to return to his family before. Even if, at any time in these seven years, he had hesitated, Izabela would never have the arrogance to judge his willpower in the face of emptiness. No, her cholera is another. Trying to keep her voice serious, she feels that what she wants is not to fight, that unlike her brother Diego, her anger is not against Five but against everything in essence. She finds herself unable to rid herself of a deep desire to slit her throat, she bites her lip.

“Do you love her?”

“Bela…”

“Please.”

After so many years of the tradition of emotional constipation that has branched out in the family with half-truths and poorly spoken subjects, when Five holds his wife's gaze, he already knows that she would not accept him doing the same thing that Lila did to Diego. Avoiding the subject is the easiest thing to do, but Izabela, so emotional, has also always been the most logical Hargreeves in dealing with emotion, so he knows very well that she, while staring at his green irises so dejected and hesitant, prays for an honest answer.

“I do. I love her a lot, Bela.”

It is no less painful to hear what she already imagined she would hear: the mind seems to be in standby mode, slowly assimilating what so quickly pierced her heart. Trying hard to accept the new reality rationally, the only disturbance on her face is her eyebrows furrowing for just a second, struggling to suppress the urge to cry that rises in her throat, her gaze scanning the wall in the background and then turning back down.

“So you don’t love me anymore?”

Five perceives more of a statement than a question. He opens his mouth to try to answer, but then closes it, his face saddened and his voice not found before himself. It is when she does not hear a response that the so-called new reality hits Izabela, surrounding her in fear, making her look at him with a neutral voice and expression contrasting with her trembling pupils.

“Five… you don’t love me anymore?”

“That’s not fair to you…”

“No… Look.” her voice is dually firm, but by a thread, shivering him “Don't lie, but don't let me die without having that answer.”

If before the tension between the two could be described as funereal, it becomes even more so. The prospect of an imminent death coming out of Izabela's mouth is so strange to Five's ears that it hurts as if he were the one who lost seven years of his wife. Even in the midst of all the daily hopelessness in her life, when finding herself facing the end of times Izabela used to at least pretend to have faith. The lack of such works as a disillusionment for him. Despite having lost his own a few years ago, he only embodies this in himself when he realizes that not even Izabela thinks it is worth believing that she will have another chance to say what was not said.

“I couldn't.” the answer simply comes out of him due to the disturbance of perception “I couldn't stop loving you, even if it were a centenary, Bella. I've never stopped thinking about you, not for a single minute of these seven years.” Five shakes his head, lowering it, scared to finally verbalize anything at all about the subject, especially to the person he was most afraid of doing. He barely feels room to hate how he stutters, lost like just a boy. How he hesitates. “But… when…. when my heart started loving Lila… I had so much fear of coming back to you, precisely because not even for a moment I stopped loving you too.” his cheeks begin to get wet with the tears that throughout his life he has always repressed, but that only ever escaped in the presence of the girl in front of him “Coming back to you meant concretize it, and that's not fair to you, you... you know I'd rather rip my heart out with my own hands than hurt you. But I couldn't help myself…”

His greenish eyes, now so moist, return to Izabela and are surprised to notice what Five identifies as tenderness amidst the restrained and painful crying that accompanied his. Not that his wife wasn't towards him the most tender human being he had ever had the fortune to live with, but precisely because he had failed her so much, he knew he deserved her anger. What he receives, however, is the anguish in his chest intensifying when Izabela approaches and puts her forehead to his, cupping Five's cheeks in her hands and sighing a lament:

“Please. Tell me you still wanna stay with me.”

Silence, he gasps in agony.

“I don’t mind, Five.” Izabela feels as if she is short of breath, so much she longs for confirmation of her request. Any attempted neutrality was lost when the words of the husband, who's always so strong, made it clear how exhausted he seemed in the face of his own feelings. Five had been her weak point for as long as she could remember, and, knowing every comma of what once shaped his pain, being able to see it now makes her desperate, above all and any problem. “I lost seven years of you, Five, I… I almost lost you forever… Please. Maybe the world will end today, but if it doesn’t… Stay with me.

It shouldn’t be Izabela the one asking for anything in this scenario. But if Five still loves her — and, God, she can see that he does —, she finds herself willing to fight the feeling of humiliation tingling in every part of her body. More than anyone, she knows how much the boy believes in his core that he doesn’t deserve any mercy or love as payment for his countless past sins. Izabela sees his affliction before her and, as she has done all her life, she could never give up on her husband like that. He gasps with his brows furrowed, trying to hold back his tears, when a sudden flash illuminates the girl’s mind, that finally sees the edge of the inevitable abyss in which she finds herself.

“Even if… even if you stay with her too… Just… don’t leave me…”

Such insensate words being uttered set up the exact moment when Five breaks, nodding his head in despair and wrapping Izabela's waist in a frightening fragility — which she herself would never have expected to witness in him on a day and in a mood like the one they were experiencing —, marking the beginning of a salty, bereft and hasty kiss, with neither having any idea on who did it.

The bodies of each spouse, once accustomed to kissing for hours on end, this time witnessed an emotional suffocation that soon left them short of breath. Five finds his reason trapped in Izabela's incongruity, who even facing a scenario like the apocalypse and the most logical devastation of what she should feel for him, still thinks and utters such an altruistic and utopian possibility. It is uncomfortable. Hiding his wet face in the girl's shoulder, he hugs her tightly and she immediately clings to him, wrapping her arms around his nape and trying to find in the fingers that intertwine in his locks any physical difference that would mark the years that have passed in him.

“I shouldn't do this to you.”

“No. No. Five.”

“Izabela, it's not fair” he tries to repeat it for the third time, but she interrupts him and repeats herself too:

“And I don’t mind. Damn, Five... You survived. You came back to me. And if loving her kept you alive... That’s… that’s okay with me.” If Izabela is honest with herself, she admits how every word she utters never fails to sound absurd to her. Jealous since she was a child, she deeply hates finding herself in this scenario and, yes, she wants to at least scream in rage. The truth, however, is still intrinsic to every sentence she is saying, no matter how strange it may sound to herself. Faced with this situation, greater than all the rage she feels is the memory of her husband alone for 45 years with the only trace of what he believed to be love coming from deliriums about a broken mannequin — this is what makes her sicker than any unusual situation of infidelity. The realization that Five saw himself once again in front of the horror that has endured his entire life fades any absurdity in the impulsive words she has been speaking, because it is replaced with the relief that at least this time he was not alone. He, in reflex, hugs her tighter, fearing this being a lie. It is with the man she loves most so fragile in her arms that she reaches the certainty that, if in order to survive in the midst of despondment, Five needed to find love — human, real —, her love for him can indeed overcome any other feeling she may feel in the face of it. Izabela pulls away from the hug, connecting her eyes with his and guiding her hand from his hair to his cheek, in a sweet caress accompanied by the melancholy of a weak smile. “When we save the world… Tell me about her. Tell me about you both.” in immediate reaction he frowns, a slight protest as if he assumes that this would only hurt her, but she continues “Five, I love your heart. And this… is part of it now… Let me know. We'll find a way.”

Five hesitates. Izabela is very good to him, always has been. He sees in the affectionate look she gives him the pain his wife is feeling, but he also sees how genuine she is in everything she says. The suffocating dilemma makes him want to die, hating to cause such displeasure to someone he loves so much, but it also makes him wonder if he has gone mad and is just trapped in a dream, so Kafkaesque was the dread he has felt of this moment for the last few years. He kisses her, briefly, leaning in with a sigh and praying in gratitude before joining their foreheads, nodding in agreement, agonized.

“Fuck, I missed you so much…”

“Good to have you back, Five.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Like the misfortune of flowers burning in a fire, Izabela, however, never gets to have Five lying with his head on her lap in a moment of affection, reciting about how much he loved her even from a distance. She also doesn't hear her husband's cautious voice telling her about the dangers that left his life hanging by a thread countless times during those years away, or about the unplanned feelings he experienced. She never had to get used to how their marriage would adapt when he sorted out his pending love with Lila, because such plans never came to fruition, just like the ones to sort out with his brother Diego.

The existence of this love, — of these loves — intertwined by the knots that constituted its universe, was eternally erased in two marigolds that, I like to believe, only survived the rebirth, the wind and the storm due to the hope and lull watered shortly before the end on the vestige of cherish that fought in the hearts of the two lovers.

Five and Izabela Hargreeves.

N/A: What do you think? I'd love to read your opinion!

[norgreeves]

Party: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Notes:

Both Five and Y/N were adults who were aged down after time travel

Both Five and Y/N are at least 18

Y/N is female and uses she/her pronouns

Tags: angst, fluff

You're celebrating with the families, but something seems to be bothering Five.

You were dancing with Lila and he couldn’t look away. 

Everyone was celebrating saving the world from another apocalypse, the Sparrows and Umbrellas had put aside their differences for the sake of a good old fashioned party. Five was relieved and ready to retire, with a bottle of whiskey in hand, but he kept his distance from the group. He was leaning on a table, watching the absolute mess of comradery unravel before him. Ben and Diego appeared to be dancing and fighting at the same time, throwing their masculinity in eachothers faces. Five rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you, already feeling as though he’d missed out on something. A smile, perhaps a glance.

Lila took your arm and you span each other in turn, giggling and stumbling through the moves, the alcohol starting to have more say in your limbs than your muscles. You reached for the bottle of wine, Lila’s grasp loosening as she let you take a swig,

“Someone’s smitten,” Lila called over the music.

“What’s that?” You frowned.

She just mouthed, ‘Five’, at you and winked, before nodding her head to the side. You followed the direction she indicated and caught eyes with Five, who was swaying and staring. There had always been something between you two, but nothing was ever said aloud. And with the whole apocalypse situation it never felt like it was okay to test the waters. He noticed you noticing him, and, in his tipsy state, he was too slow to act natural or hide his embarrassment. You sighed and smiled at him, turning his sheepish stare into a returning smile. Your hand reached out, gesturing for him to join,

“Come dance!”

“Have fun, loser,” Lila called before dancing over to Diego. You watched her go and laughed, turning back to see Five stumbling over to you, almost knocking into Viktor and Klaus, who were swaying about wildly.

“Woah!” you giggled, putting a hand out to steady him, “drunk?”

“Noo!” He shook his head, sounding like a child, “I’m perfectly capable of anything. I could take a whole other boardroom on right now. Just watch me-”

“Okay! Okay, yes you’re very strong and brave,” you patted his back before taking his hand, “Now come dance with me,”

He started to dance, terribly, mind, but you didn’t care. You were more sober than him, sure, but only by comparison. He reached his arm up, inviting you to spin; you felt the world spin with you. Grinning and tugging him back close to your side before letting go. He held his tight smile, but you could see something was up.

“Why do you look so glum, Five? We won! You’re drunk! Who cares?!” You cried, before noticing his lack of reaction, “Right?”

“I guess so!” He replied, trying to convince himself. You slowed your dancing down and stared at him, frowning. “Alright, come on, then,” you grabbed his hand before walking away from the group, Five almost tripping over his own feet as you guided him.

“What’s this for?” Five asked, “where are we going?”

“Just outside, I can’t hear anything in there,” you said as you continued walking towards the door, Five’s hand still clasped around yours. You wondered if he had realised.

“Why?” He slurred slightly, recovering his balance.

“I wanna know what’s up.”

You stopped outside by the benches, turned to face Five, and looked him in the eye. His reactions took a second to catch up with you, and so when he came to a halt he was close to you, his eyes meeting yours.

“I thought you wanted to dance,” he pointed back to the party, swinging his body with his arm.

“It’s not fun if you’re gonna be all mopey,” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m not mopey,”

“Five,” your voice was earnest and gentle as you tilted your head, “I’m serious.”

He looked at you, his hard stare softening away to dust as he took a deep breath. There was a moment of silence and you begged him to fill it.

"Okay," he hummed, "okay..I guess I just...always thought I’d die saving the world,” he hummed, perching on the bench and patting the empty space next to him. You sat down quietly, trying to offer him an encouraging glance, but he was staring at the ground, avoiding your gaze.

“And I was okay with that,” Five nodded slowly, taking a second to fish for sober thoughts, “I figured I’d do something stupid and die trying to fix it. And you’d be there, of course,” he stifled a chuckle, “and I’d say everything I never had the guts to say. And then I’d die, and I wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences.”

“That’s healthy,” you said, but your voice trailed off as you lost the confidence to poke fun. You two always made remarks at each other, trying to get the last sarcastic comment in. But in that moment he was so sincere, it just didn’t feel right. You cleared your throat and turned in your seat slightly to look at him, “What don’t you have the guts to say?”

Five shifted in his seat, daring to look up. His eyes were scanning you, his gaze soft and kind, “I think you already know, Y/N.”

“Then say it, Five.”

“I don’t think I can, I don’t think it’s fair,” his voice was wavering as he looked back down at the ground shyly.

Your stomach began to sink.

“Five Hargreeves," you took his hand and squeezed it, "nothing about this life is fair. Nothing about your job or the commission or these insane families or any other shit is fair. And that’s why you have to say it. Because if you don’t even have the guts to tell me you love me, what’s the point of it all?”

You’d barely got out your last word when his lips crashed onto yours, his hand snaking up your back and melting into your hair as you kissed back. You felt it in his touch, the anger and the love and the thin line he’d drawn to separate the two. His lips were chapped and his hands were cold and you could taste the apocalypse on his tongue.

You broke apart, his hand still cradling your head as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love you, Y/N. Okay? I love you.”

------

Thank you for reading! &lt;3

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The gif is not mine

[clairoscharm]

— you & him | f.h

DAILY CLICK

WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE

EDUCATE YOURSELF

The sunlight from the sun paints your shared bedroom with Five brighter as the two of you are still tangled in bed, covered in duvet for warmth from October's coldness. It was Saturday, and every Saturday, the two of you would sleep in for an hour or two before waking up craving a cup of coffee. Five gently wakes you up by softly tracing a line on your skin. The soft touches make you ticklish and wake you up. Five kissed your temple before wishing you a good morning, and you smiled at him. "Would you care for another coffee-hunting date with me?" he asked as his fingers ran through your hair, untangling it. You smiled at the soft touch of Five's fingers running through my hair, enjoying the simple intimacy of the moment. "A coffee-hunting date sounds lovely," you replied, your voice still groggy from sleep. "But first, I need a few more minutes of this cozy bed and your gentle touch," you say, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. A few moments later, the two of you get out of bed, the cold air of October making you shiver. You take turns getting ready, stealing glances at each other's reflection in the bathroom mirror, and wearing matching outfits.

It was a sunny day. The birds were chirping, the kids were playing, and it was a wonderful day. You stood near the large window in your house with a cup of tea in your hand, watching the kids and wishing you were them, while also imagining yourself as a mother. You smiled to yourself as you heard the contagious laughs from the kids and how it plastered a sweet smile on your face. However, someone was feeling a bit cranky that evening. "This damn kids are always so loud," Five groaned. You chuckled lightly at Five's grumpy complaint, setting down your tea mug and walking over to him. "Oh, come on, they're just having some fun outside," you teased. He scoffs at you, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know, but they're driving me crazy. Can't they play somewhere else? Preferably far away from our house?". "Maybe a cup of coffee would cheer you up, old man!" "Oh, very funny," he muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes at your comment, but a small smirk crossed his face. "And I'm not that old". You smiled at his grumpy reaction, knowing that underneath his grouchy exterior, he was secretly enjoying your teasing. "Come on, grumpy old man," you said, taking his hand in yours. "Let's get you that cup of coffee". And indeed, the sign on your house's front door is true: "A lovely lady and a grumpy man live here".

You have told Five how much you love the rain, yet you tend to use an umbrella to shelter yourself. If you truly love the rain, why would you not embrace it? Let the rain fall from the dark clouds drenched you with its tears. That is something Five never understood. The date was going perfectly fine until the sky suddenly darkened and drops of rain started to fall. "Come on! You said you love the rain," shouted Five, while gesturing for you to join him plays with the rain. You chuckle at his insistence but hesitate for a moment. "I do love the rain," you say, watching as he splashes happily in a puddle. "But I don't want to catch a cold". However, Five's playful smile and the way the rain glistened on his hair was too enticing. You couldn't resist his charm. "Fine, fine. I'll join you," you finally say, stepping out of the shelter and into the rain. Without waiting for a moment, Five grabs your hand and pulls you into the open. The raindrops hit your skin, cold and refreshing. Five laughs as he twirls you around, his face elated. "See? This is much better than standing under a tree, isn't it?" he shouts over the sound of the rain. Your heart flutters at how carefree he looks. "Okay, okay," you say, "You were right. This is fun!". The rain continues to fall, but neither of you seems to mind. Instead, you splash through the puddles on the sidewalk, laughing and enjoying the cool feeling of the rain. Five takes your hand again and starts to spin you around in the rain more, his smile wider than you've seen in a long time. As the two of you dance through the rain, you feel a sense of freedom, as if nothing else in the world matters except for you and him. Five pauses for a moment, his hand still holding yours, and gazes at you. "I must admit," he says, his voice low, "You look absolutely stunning in the rain," he grins, his hands wrapping around your waist. You smile at him, feeling your cheek blush at his words. "You're not so bad yourself, you know," you say, poking him playfully in the chest. Five chuckles, pulling you closer to him, his body pressed against yours. "Oh yeah? You think so?". The rain continues to fall, but neither of you seems to notice anymore. All that matters is the two of you, wrapped up in each other's arms, dancing in the rain.

"Hey, Five… What's all in this box?" you questioned with a wooden box in your hands, holding it to your chest. Five's eyes widened as his heart raced when he saw you holding the box, the letters he'd written over the years stashed inside. He couldn't believe he had forgotten about it, and now fear gripped him as he wondered if he should tell you what was inside. The wooden box that contains all of his letters for you that he couldn't be sent because of a different timeline. All the thoughts, wishes, and hopes he had written on any paper that he could find. Writing every detail that he had known of about you, even the smallest details that even you, yourself didn't know of. Writing every memory he had with you when the two of you were together. Writing everything he wanted to say to you. Writing it all down so that he won't forget about you, he couldn't. He took a deep breath before answering, "That… that's just some old things I've been meaning to get rid of". He tried to make it sound as convincing as possible, but you could sense the nervousness in his voice. You raised an eyebrow, suspicious at his answer, sensing that there was more to that box than he let on. "Really? Just old things?" you asked, still holding the box, your fingers tracing the rough edges. Five shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, his mind racing with thoughts of what you would think if you knew what was inside that box. "Yeah, it's… it's nothing important," he mumbled, his voice wavering slightly. As you continued to hold the box, your fingers still tracing the edges, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to it. "You know, you're not a very good liar," you said, noticing the way he avoided eye contact. Five's heart sank as you called him out on his lie. He knew he couldn't hide the truth for long, but the thought of you reading his letters terrified him. He was scared of what would you think of him. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. "It's… it's just some old letters," he admitted, his voice low. You looked up in surprise, not expecting him to admit to it so quickly. "Letters? To who?" you asked, your curiosity piqued. Five hesitated, unsure if he should tell you the truth. "They're… they're for you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "For me?" your voice laced with surprise. You never thought that Five would write you a letter but letters…? How many are there? What are they even about? "Yeah, for you… Back when I was stuck in the subway for almost seven years," he confessed. You knew about him being stuck there, he had told you. But he never told you about writing letters for you. The curiosity in you is getting stronger, you need to know what it is about. He watched as your expression shifted from surprised to curious, and he could see the question in your eyes. "Yes," he said softly, his voice laced with a hint of resignation. "I wrote them all during that time when I was stuck in the subway". Your mind was reeling with questions, but you tried to stay calm. "How many are there?" you asked, gesturing to the box. "A lot, I couldn't keep count". His answer only added to your curiosity, and you looked at the box in your hands as if trying to estimate how many letters were inside. "Can I… can I read them?" you asked, your voice hopeful. Five was hesitant at first, but after locking eyes with yours, he couldn't say no. After all, he wrote that for you. It was meant for you to read. With his reluctant nod, he gave you permission to explore the contents of the box. Your heart raced as you opened it, revealing stacks of envelopes and crumbled pieces of paper, each with your name written on the front. As you carefully began to read, you felt a wave of emotions wash over you - pain, love, longing, and hope, all captured on the pages.

My dearest love, As I wrote each letter, I poured my heart and soul into every word. I thought of you, how much I missed you, how much I wanted to be with you. The ink on the pages was a testament to my feelings, like a bruise on my heart. I wrote of the small things I missed, such as the way you laughed or the way your hair smelled. I wrote of the memories we shared, trying to keep them alive in my mind. Writing them was a bittersweet act, each page a reminder of the distance between us. Yours truly, forever. Five Hargreeves

In the end, you felt that despite everything, Five's love for you still burned as strong as ever.

[samdeancass]

All About the Tie

Requested by Anonymous

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x reader

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Five, Y/N

Description: Y/N and Five have a very peculiar relationship. They both have unestablished feelings for each other but neither act on them. Y/N is always fixing his tie but when Five hurts their feelings without realising and Y/N stops doing this, Five knows that something is off.

Five Hargreeves is a very peculiar human being, everybody knows it but it seems as though he’s grown a little soft in his old age when he meets you. His usual outgoing and sarcastic personality seems to shy away as you approach him. He shudders as a funny feeling erupts in the pit of his stomach and his eyes widen in realisation of said feeling. 

You, on the other hand, are completely opposite to Five. You’re very shy and timid and tend not to approach individuals that you didn’t know which is why you were quite surprised at yourself when you willingly walked up to Five in the street and fixed his tie which had become a little wonky due to the wind blowing it every which way. 

“Sorry, I could see it a mile off and I felt the need to fix it. I don’t know what came over me.” A red flush erupted over your cheeks as your head bent down to the floor in embarrassment. Five let out a nervous giggle and itched the back of his neck. “No problem at all. This tie is always giving me grief.” 

You looked up at that point and gave him a shy smile. “Glad to be of service. I’m Y/N.” You held your hand out in front of you. Five grasped your hand in his and shook it firmly. “Five. Five Hargreeves.” You raised your eyebrows. “Five? That’s a peculiar name.” “My father was quite peculiar. May as well name his children peculiarly as well.” 

That meeting is what jump started the peculiar friendship that you and Five share. Over time, you had developed feelings for Five. and he developed them for you, but neither wanted to tell the other for fear of ruining the friendship. So you both tiptoed around each other with the established feelings.

You had a tendency to fix Five’s tie, just like you did the first time you met. You were walking down the stairs as Five was exiting the dining room and spotted the wonky tie a mile off. Rolling your eyes, you ran down the stairs and stopped in front of Five, reaching over to fix the tie.

Five shook his head and wafted your hands away before storming towards the door. “I don’t have time for your mothering today, Y/N. I need to go.” Tears welled up in your eyes as the door closed behind the boy. He had never spoken to you like that before, especially not about the tie. It was your special thing and he had never complained about it before. You made your way back up the stairs and into your room.

Over the next few days, Five was becoming increasingly concerned about you. He knew something was wrong because you had not once came to fix his tie or talked to him about the recent tv show you’d been watching. He scoured his brain for an indication of anything that he’d done to upset you. Widening his eyes in realisation he jumped up and ran up the stairs, stopping outside of your bedroom door.

He sighed before knocking softly on the door and waiting patiently for an answer. “Y/N, it’s me. Please let me in.” He waited a little while longer but still no answer. “Listen, I’m so sorry about the way I spoke to you. I was having a really bad day and I took it out on you. I should not have done that and I promise, it’s not going to happen again.” Waiting a little while longer, Five heard shuffling behind the door and smiled a little when it opened. His smile faded, however, when he took in your form. 

Your usual bright eyes and rosy cheeks were nowhere to be found. Red circles engulfed your eyes and your cheeks were completely white. Five immediately engulfed you in a hug, holding you tight against his chest. “I’m so, so sorry. I knew something was wrong when you stopped fixing my tie. I didn’t realise how what I said would affect you so much.” He stepped away and guided you into the room, closing the door. 

“You are my best friend, Five, and I only ever want what’s best for you; even if that does include a straight fricking tie.” Five let out a small chuckle before gently clasping your cheeks in his hands. Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared right into his eyes, getting lost in the chocolate brown swirls. You both slowly leaned in and kissed, slowly but full of pent up feelings. 

You both broke apart and leaned your foreheads together. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” You blushed slightly, bringing the rosy look back to your cheeks. “I can imagine. I’ve been wanting to do that since the first day we met.” 

Five pecked your lips and took hold of one of your hands and guided you out of the room. “Let’s go and get something to eat. You must be starving.”

[rcksmith]

Untouchable - Five Hargreeves

You can find the 2 request here: anonymous 1, anonymous 2.

Resume: The villain falls in love with the girl.

Trope: “ Who did this to you?” “Touch her and you are dead.” “i´ll find you in every lifetime”

Couple: Five Hargreeves /Fem!Reader.

Warnings:  A LOT OF ANGST, swearing,  mention of death, blood,  fight between the Hargreeves and the Sparrows,a little enemies to lovers in the end,  fluff, SMUT, degrading talk.

Word count: 15k.

A/N: Spoiler from season 3.

OMG THIS IS HUGE JAHHSHDAHSDJAHDHND it turned out bigger than i expected. 

Because I have a lot of requests in my box, I compile orders that are similar and put together, but I took care to added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down.

We not tolerate any pedophilia here!! I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter, MHA and others fandoms.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are OPEN. Love you ❤️

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Honor comes from the Latin honoris. Indicating a person who lives with honesty and probity, basing their way of life on the dictates of morality. A principle that leads someone to have a righteous, virtuous conduct, which allows to enjoy a good reputation in society.

Five Hargreeves thought of himself as a callous man with no honor and, somehow, able to drown out the voice of morality in his head. He was very knowledgeable about literature and history, and his physics and math skills could surpass Tesla's, but philosophy for him was a bunch of weak principles and dictated by people who didn't really know the world, who didn't pass 1% of what he passed by, who did not see what he saw. Not even Socrates, Plato or Machiavelli had known the worst of humanity like him, the truth about realities.   A big part of his existence came down to surviving, fighting, winning, crushing everything that threatened his life.

His cynical outlook on life led him to pragmatism, and he knows that if he wants something done, he will have to do it himself.

His actions were more about getting things done than about displaying a display of rebellion or power. However,  Five was not afraid of pain or even killing. He didn't mind being the author of the worst massacres if it meant going back to his family.

Five Hargreeves don't give a damn about being the villain of the story. He did what had to be done.

It was why, when The Handle ordered him to carry out the death sentence of a Duke and Duchess in 1730, Five did not question or hesitate.

Even though in the back of his mind, in a very small part of his brain, the question arose as to why people from such an old and outdated date, he did nothing about it,  much less pulled the thread from the ball of yarn that would trigger a series of questions in a row. His job was not to ask why, to investigate step by step, to go through file by file. Five wasn't on The Commission to know the reason for each death, he was on the execution.

So he went, letting the suitcase unfold before his eyes an ancient era, from a faraway time, introducing him to carriages, flowing dresses, gigantic balls. And, as much as some people considered that era poetic, Five never liked lack of practicality.

So he killed the couple as quickly as possible, determined to escape from the need to spend more hours in that old-fashioned place.

It was like any other murder he had committed over the years on The Commission; he came, killed, and left. No looking back, no questions, no hesitation. Drowning in the deepest wave any second feelings that might have submerged, ensuring his emotions were chained very well at the bottom of the ocean.

It was easy, normal, routine. He was once again the villain, and could sleep very well the night with that.

But something began to change gradually in the atmosphere, in the air.

On some mornings, it was as if Five's hands were tingling for no apparent reason, eager to catch up something he had no idea what it was. On some afternoons, his heart vibrated in his chest, like a ground being punished by an earthquake, shaking his balanced state of mind. And, on some dawns, Five's mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert, thirsty for something that not even the coldest water could appease.

Wherever he was the air stayed suddenly thin, stuffy. And sometimes, in the middle of a mission, the wind seemed to blow in only one direction, hitting Hargreeves' back as if pushing him to go in a path. At those moments, his heart returned fluttered in his chest, as if he knew that one north was calling him and was that where he needed to go.

Everything inside Hargreeves began to be affected by strange reactions, spurred by banal, mundane events.

An in a few seconds, if Five stood completely still, silencing his thoughts and hollowing out any inner voices, he could hear something in the wind calling for him. Small seconds that swept away any balance that one day he ever had.

Five Hargreeves was going through a peripeteia, and he had no idea what was causing it.

What hell is going on?

It was wen, on an afternoon where the sun hid with shame among the dark gray clouds, The Handler gave him another murder.

In 1750.

His soul shuddered inside him in that second, echoing through his bones, keeping Five's egyptian green eyes fixed on the paper in his hands, unable to look away from the bold numbers that indicated the date of his next mission.

The icy breeze ruffled his dark hair, but he didn't move. There seemed to be something important and unspoken in the air, and this time, the voice calling his name on the wind grew softly louder. Now, it didn't seem to come from the back of his mind anymore, but from a place far away.

Five looked around, in an instinctive movement in the pathetic and vain attempt to find the source of that voice.

Nothing. As always.

“Five.” The Handler snapped her fingers in front of his face “May I have your precious attention?" The irony didn't go unnoticed, but his eyes flickered to hers. “As I was saying, the time and place of this mission is strictly important. Viscount Sebastian needs to be killed in his office at midnight, in the middle of his daughter's debut ball, not a minute less and nowhere else.”

Hargreeves gave a nod. Not because he had devoted all of his attention to her, just because he wanted her to stop talking. Much of his concentration was still on the way his body and the hemisphere around him behaved. Mission times and places were standard, no need to focus on this nonsense and listen to someone reiterate the rules as if Five were a child. He was 26 years old, a child was the last thing he was.

Something seemed to be happening, occult like a current that rattles under the sea. And the knowledge that he couldn't see the bottom of the ocean unnerved every cell in his body. Hargreeves couldn't stand things he couldn't perceive, understand how it works, take it apart and put it back together again.

This time, when Five returned to the eighteenth century, with 20 years having passed in that time after his visit and only 2 weeks for him, what hit him first was not the impracticality, the carriages, the big dresses. But the wind. Strong, cold, bringing with it the voice who called his name for weeks, now loud and clear.

The dark strands of his body prickled, and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat. Suddenly, anxiety snaked through his body like venom, stirring every fiber in his body, pumping something into his veins that made his blood heat like lava. An emotion he couldn't name what it was.

In the last mission, Five had a string of complaints about the  way the black waistcoat squeezed the white linen shirt over his abdomen, and how heavy the straight-cut coat felt heavy under his shoulders. But in this time, he wasn't bothered with the clothes he had to wear so as not to attract attention and go unnoticed. Now, with his heart pounding in his chest, his throat dry and the constant feeling that he had to be somewhere urgently, his clothes were the last things on his mind.

It was an emotion that squeezed the pit of his stomach, made his hands itch and his body shot with an adrenaline that screamed that he needed to move. That he had a more important place to be. All the sensations he'd felt leisurely over the weeks now came back with absurd force, as if he were getting close to the source of it all.

What was happening?

The moon in that far away era shone sovereignly in the sky, blessing the houses, carriages and large mansions with cascades of distilled light in the purest color of silver.

Las time, the feeling that came over Five was to get out of there as quickly as possible. But now, looking around in search of the source of the voice calling him in the wind, the last thing on his mind was leaving.

His watch still read eight o'clock, but the sensation  was like he was already late.

The most practical plan was to stay hidden somewhere near the mansion where the ball was being held. Avoiding crowds, witnesses, minimizing risk and being a shadow. As always did. The most rational thing to do was to stay away from that place at all costs, until the inevitable arrived and he was forced to enter through one of the windows.

He should have done it. But he didn't.

Just as a sailor follows a siren's song on the high seas, Five followed that voice on the wind. His brain screamed for him to seek a hiding place, but his soul rebelled with an absurd ferocity, ricocheting tremors through all his bones and ordering his legs to follow a path his conscious did not know. His whole mind was confused, but his soul carried a certainty that no other living being had ever had in they life.

With no other option, stunned by the sensations in his own body, he found himself walking towards the front door of the only place he was supposed to avoid until midnight.

If Five Hargreeves had to describe what was happening to his five senses, he would say that his vision was mildly blurred, as if were searching for focus. The smell was of climax and the ambient sounds were drowned out by his own heartbeat. It was like being there in flesh and blood, but not in soul.

He didn't focus on the details of the world around him, but he knew when he finished climbing the front steps. He couldn't focus on the conversation around him, but he knew that a few people were walking beside him.

His mind saw everything, but processed nothing.

It was a mistake not to be 100% aware of the environment, not to study each individual's body language, not to constantly calculate the odds of a move going wrong. But... it was as if something prevented him from emerging to the surface.

Five didn't respond when the butler greeted him at the entrance to the great hall, but looked around as the wind from outside hit his back and his name rang in his ears once more.

It was a female voice. Now he could tell.

Going deeper into the hall, the melody of the orchestra invaded his ears while thousands of people, talking, dancing and drinking, took his view. Everything resembled a blur on a painting, the sounds were still muffled as if Five were at the bottom of the sea, and the smell transitioned between flowers, feminine perfume and poetry.

Five Hargreeves was a pragmatic, cynical and austere man. Everything that made up his being was based on rationality, laws of physics and mathematical concepts,  he wasn't oscillated  by tender things and he certainly wasn't carried away by things of the heart or soul. He always followed what rationality dictated. Until now.

Until now.

Like a violin string that ruptured, Hargreeves was gripped by the feeling that something very important was about to happen. Something that would not only change his existence forever, but change him for eternity. This fact stared him at back, bold, warm and as inevitable as the setting sun. And very hair on his body stood on end at once while everything inside him pulsed with a brutality that could shake his bones.

Now, the sound of the orchestra was drowned out by the soundtrack of his life, which was coming closer to apex by the second. It was like being submerged in a slow-motion, in a moment that preceded an momentous event.

As magnets are pulled one by the other in an impassable way, his eyes, as if they already knew where to look, were drawn to a figure among the others who danced in the middle of the hall.

You.

Was like an explosion. Loud and brutal. He suddenly submerged from the bottom of the sea, bewildered, desperate, out of breath. The stupor released itself all at once, bringing his mind back to the reality. Instantaneously, nothing was blurred anymore, sounds weren't muffled, and he abruptly returned to his conscious state. But his soul was not so lucky. Like being whipped by live eels, his heart pounded in his chest with such fury that he leaned over forward millimeters, his throat was drier than the Egyptian desert and now his hands itched in a hellish, bestial, uncontrollable way.

Five Hargreeves has released himself from a wave of numbness only to be hit by a tsunami of sensation.

His eyes were seeing everything clearly now, but he couldn't take his attention away from the female figure dancing in the middle of the room, her bouffant gown swirling gracefully across the floor as if deities were blowing the fabrics.

There were a lot of people around him, in front of him, behind him, but Five Hargreeves only had eyes for you.

In an insane, magical and inexplicable logic, Five had the purest certainty that it was your voice that called him in the wind, that was by the desire to touch your skin that his hands itched. Five would never be able to explain it to other people, but at that moment, there was nothing more concrete on Earth, in physics and science, than the certainty that was because of you that his soul felt, so many times, that he should be somewhere else.

Like the indubitability that you need oxygen to breathe, touching your skin has become just as indispensable. It was a matter of needing, something that now not only itched his hands, but corroded the bones in his fingers.

There was no reason for all those absurd feelings, Five had never even seen you before. But rationality had no space in that moment.

There, in that rift between the past, future and parallel realities, there was no discernment, lucidity, judgment. It was a hideaway free of any cohesiveness, with the smell of romance, an atmosphere full of emotion, passion and poetry. A distant era that allowed, for the first time in many years, that the soul of Five Hargreeves to take control of his body.

He moved, one step after another, his focus petrified on you. With each centimeter closer to your body, the more he felt able to breathe again, relieving the brutal anxiety that had been beating him for weeks, giving a truce to the martyrdom that  lacerate him day after day without even him even knowing why.

You had finished your dance, clapping along with the other guests for the orchestra that started the new melody, this time more lyrical.

Your hair, the tone of which seemed to be the personification of poetry, of art, was tied in a bun that allowed a few strands to fall under your neck, the skin of your bust was speckled with a few little droplets of sweat, the perfect amount to glisten under the yellowish light of the candles in the chandelier, making a divine, almost celestial aurora radiate from you. The dark blue gown referred back to the night sky in its greatest splendor, highlight your full breasts at the straight neckline and opening at the hips in a skirt that preached the illusion of you being floating across the hall. Your lips were a red that Five had never seen in his life. A red that seemed to exist only to serve you, enhancing the color of your eyes.

You were like a mirage. An oasis in the farthest desert. One of those paintings that people come from all over the world to see in person, capable of sweeping, taking they breath away, making they cry for having to live with the burden of never having the possibility of knowing you in life.

The romantic period was going on in that century, society was tired of trends in intellectual thinking, rationalization, industrialization and the veneration of science. People longed for an escape into emotionally charged images and fantastical fiction in the visual arts and literature. And Five Hargreeves was certain that you were one of the greatest inspirations of this movement. It was so clear that you were the influence of John Waterhouse's paintings, sweeping the hearts of artists and illuminating poets. Lord Byron was thinking of you when he created the short lyric poem “She Walks in Beauty”, completely fascinated by you.

That thought shuddered Five's soul even more. And an acidic emotion rose in his throat and burned his eyes. In his chest was injected the feeling that he was facing one of the greatest beauties in history, the person the poems and paintings were based on, the inspiration for so many names of literature and art that would become renowned.

There, in front of him, was more than a person. It was a piece of history, art, literature, a beauty that was immortalized and that would be admired even after centuries. Five had already gone to different times in the past, but nothing touched his soul as much as now. As much as you.

Five Hargreeves went in your direction like a sailor following a siren's song across the seven seas.

You were relatively distracted when he got to you. Lungs catching breath from the last dance, body preparing for the next, your mind was on that ballroom but your heart was far away. It was universally true that girls your age should revel in balls like this one. Full of potential husbands, dancing and music, governed by a perfect night for falling in love. You came to like it in the past, but now, after so many similar events, everything didn't have the same magic anymore. 

You've heard enough stories - filled with adrenaline, pirate ships and dangerous waters - to crave adventure in your life. It was also noticed that you spent too much time with your books, and that the consequence of spending so many hours in the fictional world brought you very high standards for men and love. The whispers through the darkened streets were that you would end up a spinster. Since you took no interest in any gentleman who courted your hand.

In your defense, it wasn't your fault. The men in your reality were terribly...tasteless.

That was until he showed up.

You don't know where he emerged, or what lineage he was from, much less his name. But he came towards you like that was more important than breathing. In a virile, perfect posture. As if he knew all the secrets of the world and was able to show you them.

One of the first things you noticed were the eyes. The room was partially dark, lit only by the flickering candles in the candelabra, but the darkness only made his eyes clearer. Intense greens. Of such a pure emerald tone that it shone like a mystical cat, calling you to sink in his greenish sea. The stranger had hair as black as midnight, which fell softly and romantically over a face with firm features; jaw as sharp as a razor and a nose full of masculine personality. Although was well dressed, all his clothes, with the exception of the white linen shirt, were as dark as the strands of his hair, something unusual among the sophisticated gentlemen who were invited.

Looking at that gorgeous face, you were left speechless. The deities had been generous to this man, gifting him with bold, aristocratic features and iris as green as Egypt's most precious jewels. The mystery and secrets contained within in those eyes were a fascinating contrast.

“Can I have this dance?” Just a sentence.

He didn't introduce himself, he didn't say who he was. He just dropped that sentence as if it was the only thing he really cared to say.

The gravity of his words made your heart flutter. What a beautiful voice that man had. With a provocative huskiness, a touch of superb, as if he were an oracle at his peak in ancient Greece. The sound seemed to seep into your body and run through you like warm honey.

The truth was, you had reserved the dance for another gentleman, but in that second, you couldn't care less.

“Of course, milord.” That's what you said, accepting the hand he extended to you.

Never taking his eyes off yours, an unfamiliar sensation washed over your mortal body and engulfed everyone around you. You wondered if it was just the stuff of your imagination or if he too felt the electricity whip through his body as he positioned you closer to dance.

Single women weren't allowed to touch men's hands if you weren't wearing gloves, and that rule had never bothered you. Until now.

Until be affected by an insane, visceral desire to feel that man's skin. Of experiencing the heat radiating from his hand against yours, of feeling those white fingers, slender and pale, holding your denude skin. You've never been touched by a man without a layer of clothing intervening. No brushing of elbows, no bumped of fingers, no errant caresses. And you wondered what it was about that man that made you aware of this deprivation. That stranger radiated secrets in an inexplicable but extremely palpable way in the air and you wanted to feel the touch of mystery on your skin more than you wanted to breathe. A will as strong as fear, as intense as hunger.

Your soul screamed in frustration because of the dress when his hand cupped your cover waist. In a touch so firm it only existed in the romance novels you read. Your heart raced, your breath disappeared, and you didn't notice when you rested your hand on his shoulder and your feet began to follow the rhythm of the waltz.

It was pathetic the intensity of your emotions for a man you had just met and didn't even know his name. But, it was like you'd found something didn't even know you'd lost.

Well… if it was the lack of knowledge of his name that was making things a little difficult…

“Aren't you going to tell me your name? Mine is Y/n”

Your voice, sweet as molasses, velvety as suede, made the hairs on the back of Five's neck stand on end. He recognized the timbre now, he had already heard you calling for him in the wind, but nothing surpassed hearing you from inches away.

This was one of those moments where, if you asked Five why he was doing this, he couldn't answer. He couldn't find any logical answers to his actions, reactions, thoughts. But, once again, this rift in space and time was an environment free of rationality. He didn't need this here. He felt he didn't need to. Not when had you in his arms.

A name…

Five Hargreeves was the name of a villain. Someone who would carry on his shoulders to the grave the weight of the thousands of souls he killed. Someone whose hands were marked, eternally, with thick, hot blood. A proof that his destiny was traced directly to hell. His name was the personification of a freak created to be a hero, an orphan in the apocalypse, a man who belonged nowhere in the timeline, someone without family for many decades.

He looked at the hands that held you. The hands of a serial killer. And then he looked at you, full of beauty, life, happiness and innocence. It was like committing a crime against nature to hold something so pure in such infamous, disgraced, death-scarred hands. And something inside he twisted with something like pain…disgust, for the fist time.

His soul didn't want to hold you in the hands of Five Hargreeves.

Five Hargreeves was the villain. And he didn't want to be that man right there.

His mouth, which looked so beautiful yet so dangerous, softly approached the foot of your ear, while the body of you two continued to follow the steps of the waltz. "We don't need names here."

A current of electricity slammed into your body like a whiplash from a live eel, raising goose bumps on parts of your skin you didn't even know you had. My goodness, it was a sin for a single man to have that much charm.

Sensible young women would have turned away at once. Practical girls who appreciated rationality, sincerity and transparency, who had no estimate for games, mystery and sensuality, would have rolled their eyes. But you were not sensible, practical or appreciative of the good customs of the epoch.

You were romantic, hungry for a good charade, adventure. And that man seemed to be built by those two things.

The world was just a shapeless blur, other people were no more than wandering silhouettes, and the atmosphere was enraptured by the flickering orange light of the candles in the candelabra. The smell was of poetry, romance and freedom, which intoxicated the brain and alcoholize any common sense. Was like a magical place in the middle of space and time, a rift that allowed just being. Time passed slowly, as if dancing together with you two.

 ‘One second can change many things...’

Just as Five could hear his father's voice saying 'I told you so' during his years in the apocalypse, he could hear his words now.

‘you can crumble empires, win battles...’

Five swirled you around before pulling you into his arms once more, his heart pounding with each passing moment. Neither of you realized it, but every second you spent together, every step, more messed up the timeline.

You smiled full of romance and magic as he leaned you back, his hand firm on your spine, bringing you to the surface and returning to dance around the hall with the waltz that dandle yours bodies.

‘you can fall in love.’

With every strong step the two of you took on the floor, in an apocalypse dance, realities were immediately misaligned. With each spin, lines of events were exploded into other universes. With each look shared, with each smile, with each heartbeat full of romance, people were erased, born, disappeared.

An apocalypse was brewing somewhere because of his hands on your body. A mystical waltz that brought the ascension of chaos in other timelines.

Neither of you two knew about it. But if Five knew, he wouldn't keep his hands off you anyway. Five Hargreeves was the villain in many realities. And he would accept the burden of being in a few more if it meant having you in his arms.

In an inexplicable and irrational way, what was happening now had more importance than everything he had ever lived and would live through in his entire life.

"You dance very well." You praised him, and his hands on you tighten a little more.

"No more than you". Then he gave that smile.

The half smile that lifted only one corner of his mouth. Malicious, sagacious, sphinx. Who promised to know all the mysteries of the world and show you all the sins of life. What man was that? So full of charm, sensuality, beauty. He seemed out of this world and you found yourself wishing that time would freeze in that moment, that you could hold onto your chest and live in that dance for the rest of your life.

There was something different in the air. A soul-deep feeling that whispered that your life would never be the same again.

Not after this man.

“It is not difficult to find women who dance.” You joked. "You've certainly danced with others to know."

Yes, with his mother and Allison.

But even if he had been dancing with all the women in the world, they would have disappeared in that moment. No memories memory experiences with other women could stand out at that moment.

"If I danced, they all disappeared the moment I waltzed with you." He realized he might have said the right thing, because he could see the breath go out of your lungs and cheekbones flush deliciously.

God in heaven… this girl was breathtakingly beautiful.

Five led you around the hall masterfully, committing your features to his mind like the tattoo on his wrist. Permanently, eternally. Suddenly, he was struck down by the insane desire to know more about you. To hear more of your voice, to taste the way the words flowed from your lips like the purest honey.

You were like a drug, an obsession. An addiction that had stuck with him since the first time he came into that century, since he breathed the same air as you, since he coexisted under the same night sky as you. There was insane logic in the fact that his soul felt your presence without even seeing you on that first mission. He would never be able to explain it, but somehow it made sense inside in him.

Five Hargreeves didn't think about what would happen when he had to leave. He didn't think about the withdrawal his body would suffer when he was away from you. Much less noticed the way there seemed to be something important in the air. If he had been in full intellectual faculties and grounded in rationality, he would have managed to understand that that something was the temporal lines collapsing, an apocalypse forming elsewhere, pure and perfect chaos destroying parallel realities.

But he was not being led by rationality. And even if he was, he wouldn't have minded a few worlds burning if it meant having you next to his body. He didn't care. But The Commission was a different case.

But Five Hargreeves wasn't thinking about any of that.

He conducted a conversation with you the way he conducted that waltz. He discovered that you liked the high seas even though you were never allowed to be on a ship. You loved nature and enjoyed good books. He heard your eagerness to know the world and learn about different cultures, that you wanted to unravel the mysteries of Egypt, see the architecture of Greece, visit Spain and wanted to go swim in the beaches of Brazil. You were an adventurer, and Five's heart skipped a beat for it.

But in a corner of his soul, deep down, he felt an ache reverberate through his bones. The urge to tell you about the world came with overwhelming force, and something inside him died when he realized he could never tell you the truth about the subjects you cared about.

He could never tell all that the world already knew about Egypt, about its tombs and its pharaohs. He could never be able to show the beauty of Brazil's beaches that become famous tourist spots, and he reserved a note in his brain that you would have loved to visit Genipabu in Brazil, a beach with huge sand dunes that seemed to be the junction of a huge desert whit a beach.  He could not tell you what science, oceanography and marine biologists already knew about the oceans. He could never say about the cruises that roamed the seas in all the luxury and comfort, much less about the planes.

Five Hargreeves would never be able to show you the world. And his soul decided to torture itself even more thinking about what it would be like if you were from his time. The things you would do, the freedom you could enjoy.

He could show you anything you wanted, tell you the secrets of the universe…His secrets.

When the waltz was over, on a note as dramatic as the situation, you couldn't say goodbye to him. Your soul, enchanted and completely enraptured by the man in front of you, vehemently refused to remove your hand over his. It seemed that every molecule in your body, every corner of your spirit, every fiber of your being, had defined that it was with that man that they wanted to stay. Forever.

What was foolish.

The truth was that the sensation of poetry, romance and magic that surrounded you two throughout the dance, had evaporated from the air like mist in the sun. Now the sure that you two weren't meant to be together hung in the air like a black cloud, thundering and flashing. This feeling oppressed you with an overwhelming force, so tangible it was possible to cut it with a razor.

No words needed to be said, but it was stamped into the environment, filling every millimeter and gap, putting that magical dance into a category that would never go beyond that: a dance.

A feeling of melancholy jabbed your throat like a scorpion's sting, injecting an emotion of sadness and helplessness into your blood like distilled poison. You didn't want that to be the end. You didn't want to say goodbye. Even with everything in the air indicating that whatever existed between the two of you, ended here, now.

Five's eyes seemed to exude the same as you. Feeling the end heavy and resounding in the air, reverberating like thunder, as every corner of his soul roared the opposite. The green sea of his irises looked like it was in the middle of a storm. Full of pain, anger. With colossal waves and revolts, which promised to destroy everything they saw ahead. Just like the oceans did in the apocalyptic events in the era of Younger Dryas.

Somehow, without having to utter a single sentence, you both knew you were feeling the same thing. Wishing, with all their might, that this wasn't the end, that they were able to hold time against their chest in a tight, desperate embrace, an attempt to freeze the pointers.

At that moment, Five clamored, to any god who would listen, that you not be taken from his arms.

However, like the evil joke that was his life, his thoughts were cut short by the chiming of the clock. 11 chimes. That echoed in his soul like the trumpets of hell, laughing at him, mocking him, making fun of a murderer thinking he would be graced with something like you.

Five Hargreeves was a villain. And he was destined to have the things villains deserve. And none of this things included someone like you.

In that sadistic moment, Five finally understood a sentence from one of the books Grace read to them at night; ‘If I were to kiss you then go to hell, I would. So then I can brag with the devils I saw heaven without ever entering it.’

Yes. Now he understood. Five Hargreeves leaned in, bringing the back of your hand to his lips, laying a kiss that, however much it was impeded by the muslin layer of your glove, he prayed that this kiss could transmit all the feelings he could never say. This are the only kiss he could give you. That sentence echoed in his head like a fact, as sure as the sky is blue, as true as the salt in the oceans.

And when he went to the core of hell, paying for all his sins, he would brag to the other demons that he had been to heaven without ever having entered it.

You wish you'd said something, asked where he was from, stopped him from going. But none of that happened. This was one of those moments that we regret forever, that are branded in a red-hot iron in the soul, in the mind, in the body. Everything inside you was screaming to go after him when Five turned arund and walked into the sea of guests. But he disappeared in the waves before you could even move your feet.

No one had to tell you, but you knew you'd never see him again. And your heart would never beat for another.

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Five Hargreeves has had to do a lot of horrible things over the years. Actions he wasn't proud of but he knew needed to be done, nights awash in blood and the smell of death.

But nothing has wobble him as much as you have.

His soul, body and mind, trained since he was a child not to develop any weakness that would prevent him from being a perfect hero, then perfected and aggravated by the Commission to be the unbeatable assassin, were rarely stirred by feelings.

He was cynical, hard-nosed, crotchety and arrogant. He never got carried away by emotions and, as much as his desire to save his family is pure, he will cross any ethical lines for the greater good. And all of that made him the Commission's best weapon.

Until now.

Until his emotions messed up not just one, but thousands of timelines. Created catastrophes, formed apocalypses, killed people. Hargreeves meeting you was something that could never have happened. Repudiated not just by nature but by the gods. Having you in his arms was like a crime against the timeline, against the balance of the world.

And heavens and hells would make him pay. With work, blood, or his heart. Promising to take not only the soul, but any hope of laying eyes on you once again. As Icarus had his downfall for the sun, so Hargreeves had for you. In a triumphal ruin.

“Do you have any idea what you caused ?!” It was the first thing The Handler said as soon as Five returned from his mission, seconds after he had killed his target.

Her voice was loud, suffused with anger and rage and… despair. Five frowned, soul still aching from having to leave you, your warmth still in his arms. He didn't have the head to deal with her right now. Not when he had so much to process.

“A death.”

“Don't play smart on me!” Her roar was loud enough for Hargreeves to realize that something really serious was going on. The Handler was many things, but she never got worked up without good reason.

The clatter of her heels echoed through the room as she walked towards him, her eyes full of fierce emotion.

“You had only one job to do! One! Kill the man and get out of there. Like always!" Her voice was as rough as desert sand. “But not only did you mess up entire timelines,  but created apocalypses on thousands of worlds that were to happen only thousands of years later!"

Five's mind was racing like a Catarina wheel, spinning at full throttle as it tried to put the pieces together. He blinked once, twice, his heart starting to race with the feeling that something devastating was about to be revealed.

He looked at The Handler, who understood his look. "That's right! Your little feat of dancing with that girl shattered thousands of timelines! People were killed, disappeared, events took a completely different course because of your little impertinence!"

She pulled his arm towards the thousands of screens that monitored infinite realities. And what he saw was chaos. Pure and perfect. Some worlds succumbed to fire, others to water, others to war. But they had devastation as a resemblance.

Five can hear the voices of other Commission workers in the background, in another corridor, other rooms. Some sounded desperate, others irritated, and others helpless, but all seemed concerned. He couldn't even say that he didn't know that little things had chain reactions. Because he knew. There was nothing to justify his actions, for he didn't even have a good reason for himself.

But the truth was, even staring the apocalypse in the face across nine different monitors, he felt no…remorse. There wasn't a part of him that would have done differently, that wouldn't have touched you, that wouldn't have known you. Deep in his soul Hargreeves knew he didn't care how many worlds he had destroyed just by touching you. He was going to hell anyway, it was better to have a memory of you to remember for eternity.

"...we'll have to kill her." It was just that sentence that Five's messed up mind paid attention to.

Then everything stopped.

The weather, the conversations. The world seemed to have held their breath, suspended, staring at Five. Everything inside him fell silent into scary silence, and he turned slowly toward The Handler, all his senses heightened, heart still, mind clear.

She seemed to notice his state. "What did you expect?! You know how things work. Causers of apocalypse get killed, that's our job! And because of that dance of yours, this girl has caused nine different apocalypses.”

There was a kind of insane, evil logic to the situation. The last riddle of gods and life to see Five Hargreeves on his knees. Broken, empty. To punish his sins, taking from him what he took from so many people. They engineered his downfall perfectly, writing with a red-hot iron on his soul the sentence that he could never be happy. His curse, the price to pay. Cosmic fit.

What the fucking hell.

“I'll send some agent to kill her immediately and...”

But Five Hargreeves has never been one to accept sentences imposed on him with his head down. Limitations, rules. He made his own destiny, no matter what he told him, and lived with the consequences. No god, destiny or universe dictated his life.

Everything inside him roared like a beast. Exploding, bursting, sending any control flying away. In an action without any hesitation, delicacy or ambiguities, his hand closed on The Handler's arm. In a firm, strong, tense grip that started hurt her very soon.

She looked at him in a mixture of shock and annoyance. There were very few people in the world willing to face a woman on her level, some too fearful, others who value life too much. But Five Hargreeves was none of those things. He'd never known any predator he should fear, everyone knew he was capable of anything and everything. Maybe there was no line he was able from crossing, or plan he wasn't capable of executing.

Five Hargreeves was the predator she should fear.

And The Handler realized that. For in that pair of eyes she saw danger, rage, pure and perfect hate. His sea of green gave way to red, glittering waves, shining with all the blood he had already spilled. And with a warning that he wouldn't mind spilling more.

“Stay. away. from. her. ” he guided each word with a tighter grip on her delicate arm, sure to leave marks that won't go away anytime soon.

Bewildered, she looked at him like a man possessed, filled with a rage that could fuel hell all by itself. The Handler had never seen him in that state, he was always angry, annoyed, acidic, but that… that was hatred, a bloodthirsty hate.

Five Hargreeves promised to go to hell and drag anyone with him without saying a word. 

For the first time in her life, The Handler was afraid.

“Five...you know her need to die...”

"Listen to me" He vociferate, shaking her by the arm. “I don't give a fuck what you have to say. I swear, for all that exists in this world, that if you lay one finger on her, there will be nowhere on earth you can fuck hide from me.”

Five Hargreeves was a tall, masculine man, wrapped in a macabre and sinister aura when he wanted to. He pulled The Handler closer, his face filled with colossal rage being etched like a tattoo into her soul.

“I don't give a fuck about how many worlds are ending, I don't give a fuck if fucking people are dying!  You won't touch her until the day I'm dead!  And you can bet that, even seven feet under the ground, I'll find a way to take you with me to hell if you do fucking something to her."

You were untouchable.

All of his work on The Commission was about killing a number of people to save even more. But he would never, ever, sacrifice you for the greater good. Not even if it meant millions of dead people. 

It didn't matter as long as you weren't one of the dead. 

Without waiting for further discussion, he led The Handler towards the exit door, leading her out of the room and locking the door when he returned. Five wasn't stupid or naive to think that she would follow his orders. The handler might be afraid of him, but she knew how to get what she wanted, no matter how long it took. And now that he'd bruised her ego, Five knew she'd make it her primary mission to kill you.

Something he would never let happen.

If someone asked where so much anger, so much sense of protection came from, Five Hargreeves couldn't say. Because he didn't even know. In the same way that he still didn't understand everything that had happened, everything that he had been feeling, he still hadn't reasoned where such primitive, territorialist impulses came from. He had no idea where it all came from, but he was sure he could never let anything bad happen to you.

In a twisted and somewhat obscure way, you had gained a villain as a protector. A fallen angel who didn't promise to do good to people, but only to you. Who swore allegiance not to humanity, but solemnly, exclusively, to you.

It was a sensation that filled his entire body like boiling lava. And Five put his hand in the fire for the certainty that he would never be able to get rid of his feelings for you again.

His soul said that, as long as he was alive, he would be yours.

Making his mind work faster than it ever had before, Five Hargreeves concluded that every record of you had to go. There could no longer be documents proving that you were part of humanity. That once you had a name, a house, a reality. Five would have to erase you from any and all records. Forever. The only way to keep you out of the hands of the people who had access to every form of terrestrial existence, was to erase you from the world. Only then, hidden from the Commission, could you live happily. Fully.

But throwing all your documents away was signing the sentence that he was took the risk of never getting to see you again. Without them, finding someone was nearly impossible, much less accessing their reality. Five could start a calculation to find you one day, but that could take years, ages, and even if he memorized your documents number by number, did the calculations and managed to get to you without any side effects, The Commission could follow him and find you. 

And finding a civilian's documents was much easier than finding a special agent like him and throwing them away too.

Once again, his life was a cruel joke of the gods, which served as entertainment for any higher power. Five strongly believed that, if there was anything above or below him, they designed his life for they own amusement.

Five Hargreeves spent hours in the file room, locked in that cubicle, not letting anyone in, not getting out. Once he disappeared with your documents, he would be declared a traitor and deserter, where his punishment would not only be more years of work, but death.

The world was spinning. Head ached. A sound gnawed at his mind, a scratch without melody, like a rustle of paper. Someone had taken a scream, a memory and a fear, crumpled it into a jagged ball, and used it to stuff  Five's skull. He need to think of a plan that covered all the rough edges, but his eyes were bombarded with futures he didn't want to think about. Every time he blinked he felt the tragedy lurking in a dark and dismal corner, ready to catch him in their sharp mouths and take him somewhere he feared to go.

A place where the worst had happened to you.

Suddenly, the world was filled with secrets, fears and terror. Just as his soul took control of him in that night, it was the same in this moment. Five Hargreeves wasn't someone to get carried away by anything, but the feeling that something very bad was about to happen to you haunted him to the bone. That would be the perfect ending to his sinful life story; having the one person who touched his feelings so powerfully killed in the same way he killed so many other people.

Life was taking its toll on all the things he had done. For a second, he was afraid of that reckoning. Because the worst is not the bullet hitting yourself, but someone you like.

The feeling outside of being torn apart. All the patches and pieces of what it was to be Five Hargreeves - which he had been painstakingly piecing together throughout his life - were coming loose again, all at once. The clock was ticking, the hours were ticking, and he knew that just as he was coming up with a plan, so was The Handler.

It was a macabre race against time, in which if he lost, he had the feeling he would never fully recover. Not without a part of his soul dying along with you.

When he found your documents, the photo they had of you was a portrait made in that last century, a small painting of your face, eternalizing your smile. Suddenly, the memory of how you'd smiled at him like that gripped him like a demon. And when the memories of you intensified, they brought no comfort, just only fear and dread. Five Hargreeves could not live with himself if those memories were tainted by the knowledge that he was the cause of his tragedy. He would never be able to remember those tender moments again if memories of you were vandalized by images of how you were killed.

It was too late to remedy the consequences of what he had unleashed. The macabre possibilities of what The Handler could do to you were there, tattooed on his brain, as if they would snap open and bolt to reality at any moment. So, as panic rose, Five Hargreeves' mind slammed shut like a heavy book. He wouldn't let any of that happen. Never.

After scheming and checking all the plans in his mind, Five decided that he had already orchestrated the almost perfect scheme. He would destroy all of your documents and, when he had done that, he could no longer remain on the Commission. Thus, he would steal the mission from one of the agents about killing John F. Kennedy, the time that most closely matched his calculations to return to the family in 2019. Then Five Hargreeves would evade The Commission and deal with them without being an employee anymore. And even if they went after him, they would never find you.

Not even Five.

And so it was done.

-----------

Five Hargreeves went through the reunion with his family, faced the commission agents coming after him to kill him, dealt with The Handler and put up with his siblings drama.

In a matter of weeks, he had already gotten himself into so much trouble and confusion that sometimes he didn't even have time to breathe. Processing events and digesting them had become a luxury he no longer had, and saving the world from one apocalypse and falling into another had seemed to become a family pastime.

But there were nights. Cold, when the moon reached its apex in the sky and the rain poured down on the ground, when he was finally able to be alone and clear his mind. In those rare moments, the only thing on his mind was you.

Always you.

His point of peace, his refuge from his constant stress and pressure was in the images of you. In the way your body fit perfectly in his hands, in the way your gaze, enchanted and completely shining, did not leave his. Five Hargreeves felt that, like him at that moment, there was no other place you would rather be.

Twenty years could go by, but he would still feel what it was like to have your warmth in his arms, in the smell that your perfume exhaled and in the way the candles in the candelabra glowed on your skin. You were like a goddess, dancing at that ball as if the world would never be graced with such beauty again.

When Five Hargreeves closed his eyes, he could see you perfectly. Swirling around as if the ground were your clouds and everyone there were mere mortals, watching what the angels in heaven looked like.

It was like a dark paradise. He managed to slake some of that suffocating tightness in his chest whenever he returned to those memories, but it resulted in more flagellations in his poor, tortured soul. The notion that he would never have anything but memories, dreams, and mowed wishes, would skin him alive until his last days. Five would forever be haunted by the notion that, even when he died, you wouldn't be waiting on the other side.

You would be in heaven. And he belonged in hell.

But, it was worth it.

All the pain, all the desperation his soul struggled with, all the shortness of breath that coiled in his lungs, all the feeling of being stabbed with a dagger knowing his would never lay hands on you again, it was all worth it when he reviewed your face in his memories.

Five Hargreeves didn't clamored for relief from his pain, balm for the cuts deep in his soul, a minute's mercy. No, he accepted all of his fate with his head held high. He clamored for you to be okay. Safe, happy. Free from any worries or tribulations. He wished you had forgotten about him, erased that night from your blood, because it would be impossible to live if he knew you were suffering just like him.

Five Hargreeves had never given you a single kiss, tucked your hair in his fingers and tasted your tongue, but he didn't need it. His soul didn't need that to fall madly in love with you.

Yes, pure and perfect passion. It was the only logical explanation for how he felt about you.

Even though he never tasted your skin in his mouth, or touched you without the interference of a piece of clothing, Five Hargreeves was in love with you.

And it would be for the rest of his life.

-----------

All the Hargreeves siblings thought all was well when the Commission was defeated and they got a briefcase to take them back at home. The nightmare of the second apocalypse had already passed and now the feeling that invaded their bodies was one of relief. For a second, Klaus thought that everything would now be back on track; with the family together, stronger ties and improved relationships.

Everyone thought so, actually.

The shimmering blue flash engulfed all the brothers, passing through the barriers of space and time, leaving the Hargreeves in the mansion where they grew up and spent most of their lives. Everyone looked happy, relaxed. And Five also shared the same relief.

Until that fateful moment.

Until a draft of wind enter through the window behind him and hitting his back, bringing a feeling that immediately made every hair on his body stand on end. In a matter of seconds, all sense of relief, calm, and peace were shattered, exploding one by one with the same aggressiveness of a nuclear bomb. The world seemed to stumble and stoped, the colors of the hemisphere fluidized into a vintage orange, flickering, almost as if the lighting came from candles.

As much as his siblings were laughing and making noises, everything for Five was quiet, in a tacit silence. The sound of cars on the streets did not exist anymore, the conversations disappeared, and, little by little, the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. Increasing in tempo gradually, like a soundtrack.

Then, in the apex of silence, when Five could already hear the blood rushing through his veins, he listened.

Five.

Your voice in the wind, almost like a whisper. Calling for him. Just like you did a long time ago.

His soul gave a scream that shook him to the very bones, and he didn't notice when his eyes widened and his breath hitched. Suddenly, his whole body came back to life, being pulled sharply from the bottom of the ocean, submerging, desperately, breathless, astonished. Abruptly, the heat returned to his hands, to his cheeks, to his heart. Five could feel warmth coursing through his body as if they had rekindled the flame of his soul.

Was like resurrect.

He looked back in one jerk, spinning in place, heart pounding in his ribcage, his frantic, frantic eyes darting around every corner.

Nothing.

“Hey, are you okay?” Klaus looked back, focusing on his brother, but Five didn't respond.

He walked past Klaus as if he couldn't hear him, his eyes and hands trembling visibly, his step tight. Five chased the wind current as if he were chased his life, oblivious to anything or anyone.

His siblings, finding the situation strange, followed him without hesitation, accompanying the owner with green eyes entering more in the house. They had no idea what to expect, or what to think, but they stopped behind Five as he froze in the middle of the living room, eyes petrified, wide, fixed on a very specific spot at the top of the stairs.

But nobody noticed what he saw.

While all the Hargreeves were taken aback by Reginald's appearance in the outer corner of the room, stunned and petrified, growing more and more stunned as their father went on to explain the situation, Five couldn't take his eyes off the top of the stairs. Nothing in the world would have made him look elsewhere.

You.

You.

Fucking hell...you.

There, standing next to people he didn't care to find out who they were, looking down, observing at the people who had just entered.

Suddenly, everything inside him was whipped by currents of electricity, as if he'd been struck by lightning. An argument seemed to be brewing in the background, but Five Hargreeves didn't fucking care. May the world explode, may everything end up in dust, fire or water. He didn't want to know.

You were there. With the sunlight coming through the large windows behind your back, and illuminating your silhouette as if you were a deity, a goddess, a muse. You shone. Like the gates of heaven. At that moment, the soul of Five Hargreeves fell to his knees in front of you. For you.

An extremely strong emotion invaded him without asking permission, destroying everything he once was. Five felt like crying.

As a war in the background unfolded, the people who were beside you started to descend the stairs one by one. But he couldn't take his eyes off you.

“Five. Five.” Luther seemed to call out to him in the background, but he didn't care.

You walked down the steps the same way you glided through that ballroom, as if the floor were your clouds. Yours robes were uniform this time, but Five was pretty sure that behind that high collar, your skin harbored a birthmark on your collarbone. Your hair was down, but he knew how you looked with your strands tied up.

With each step you took, more his pulse quickened. It was like a dream, a mirage, his oasis in the scorching desert. At some point in the battle against the Commission he had died, and that was his dream.

However, Luther's hand gripped his arm, forcing his green eyes to meet his brother's.

“Dude, what's wrong with you? Didn't you hear dad saying that we're in another reality?”

“I am not your father.” Reginald countered. “Not in this reality.”

Five frowned, rationality slowly returning to his body, his brain taking over once more. A parallel reality. That explained a lot. A reality where…you existed.

Holy shit.

Someone said the Hargreeves had better go, and Five would have laughed out loud if he hadn't submerged in thoughts. If they really was in a parallel reality, that meant you didn't remember him. You didn't even know him. The version who have danced with him was still in another century, in a timeline far, far away.

But…Five looked up. You radiated the same beauty of the romantic period as before, your skin still looked feather soft, your lips still where able to take away his complete self-control, your eyes still have… the same glow that he remembered so many times during so many nights.

You didn't know him, but that didn't matter. Because Five knew you.

He suffered the worst of martyrdoms all this time, and now that he'd finally, finally found you once more, he wasn't going to leave. Even if it meant having to make you fall in love with him all over again. In fact, Five Hargreeves would dedicate his entire lives to making you fall in love with him all over again in every reality there is. He would have as many times as necessary a first dance with you.

He didn't realize it, but his lips lifted in a smile. In a snap of fingers, everything reached a apex, higher than the buildings, higher even to the clouds. All the problems evaporated like mist in the sun, and being in a parallel reality, with a father that wasn't his, in a house that wasn't the one he grew up in, seemed to be extremely insignificant.

For the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was happy. And nothing would change that.

That's when, amidst all the arguing the Hargreeves and Sparrows were having around, your eyes met his. And for him it was like coming home after an excruciating winter.

You cocked your head slightly to the side, intrigued by the way that man was looking at you so…surrendered. You understood the gravity of the situation, of those strangers breaking into your home and trying to claim everything as theirs. You were also irritated just like your siblings.

But... when you looked at that man… with eyes so green and hair so dark, something inside you caught your breath. A shiver went up your spine. And maybe you were crazy, but you can swear that felt your soul heave a sigh of…relief. A strange, emotional feeling reverberated through your spirit as if…somehow you'd just found what you've spent so long waiting to met again.

It don’t make sense.

As the confrontation unfolded between the two families, you couldn't help but notice that, minute by minute, you found yourself wanting to look at this man more. As if it were never going to be enough, as if the second you turned your head, you were overcome with an insane urge to see more. You should be focused on trying to get those strangers out of your house, not admiring one of them.

But Five realized that. A spark inside him vibrated with hope, and he delighted in being able to relive the feeling of what it was like to be looked at by you again.

But before he or you could even do anything, the physical feud between the two families broke out with astonishing speed, spreading like the plague. Diego, as usual, was the first to go into battle, followed by Luther and Allison.

See, you didn't consider yourself a confrontational person. Your peculiarity was to manipulate the natural elements and, although that made you one of the strongest figures among your siblings, you had a more adventurous spirit than a fighter. There was no such homeric thirst in your blood to be the best, the strongest, the most brutal. Ben said that was the most unattractive thing about you, but Sloane saw this feature with good eyes. Like you, she wasn't much inclined to brutality.

The fight drove you and Five away from each other, separated by rooms, siblings and war. You saw your family appeal to brute aggression very quickly, while, if you're honest, you didn't want to hurt anyone. Is trut that you were irritated by the way they claimed your house as theirs, but you didn't think they were bad people.

Or all this bland resolutions were for the fact that you didn't want to hurt him. Because, in some way you couldn't explain, you knew he wouldn't hurt you.

But that's when Alphonso yelled at you from upstairs. “Y/N! Do fucking something too!”

Everyone was scattered around the house, but you still remained downstairs, in the living room, arranging a way to help without being very aggressive like your siblings were being. You had no intention of killing or seriously injuring them, but you also weren't willing to put up with the scolding your brothers would give you if you continued to be omitte.

So, when one of the strangers came running to get away from something, the tail of his dark overcoat dancing in the air and his black hat toppling along the path, your reaction was to do the one thing that couldn't seem to do any real damage. In a wave of the hand, the windows were shattered by large, sprawling tree roots, that came out of the garden earth like thick snakes and entered the house in a steady stream.

The man gave a high-pitched scream, but his feet were already entwined by the roots and he was knocked to the ground. The roots, which spilled earth over the floor and exhaled a forest smell, wrapped themselves around the man's body up to his chest, with the only purpose of immobilizing him.

You weren't putting force or brutality, and you were sure the roots were just putting considerable pressure on, like a bandage around an injured arm. But the man didn't seem to notice this, because he kept screaming.

The fear should still be clouding his senses, and you revealed the situation. For it wasn't often that someone was wrapped around by giant roots that moved of their own accord. In your place, you would have reacted that way too.

“Hey, hey” you tried to get closer “It's ok, they won't hurt you and…”

But your speech was interrupted by shrill hum, which cut through the air with force and passed like a bullet in front of your face, shaking a few locks of your hair. The speed were frightening, and for a second your heart stopped in your chest. The fright made you take two steps back immediately, but in a matter of seconds any feeling was replaced by a very strong burning in your left cheek. In the same second, a hot liquid began to ooze from your injured skin like water in a current, spreading pain wherever went.

Two seconds that were able to put you face to face with death. Because that attack was not joking.

The bearded man ran to help the one who was lying on the ground, forcing his freedom between the roots that were now weak due to your distraction.

Unlike you, Diego didn't care about the things he had to do to save his family. He was willing to injure, inflict permanent damage, even killing if that was the only way out. He would have a guilty conscience later, but in the heat of the moment, he wouldn't hesitate. Diego did this to the Commission agents hours ago, and he would do this to you if he had to. As sure as the sky was blue, the Sparrows were the enemy. And he was the hero. Thats it. Two polar opposites, destined to face each other into the death.

And that was why he didn't hesitate to attack when he saw Klaus lying on the floor, screaming as if he were being killed. After getting a small taste of the kind of things your powers were capable of doing, it was pretty clear that you were one of the first ones that needed to go down. So Diego didn't hesitate either when he pulled Klaus off the ground, and wielded yet another dagger. Aiming not to hurt, but to kill.

But love could drive even the smartest minds crazy.

Because when the dagger was thrown in the air, a blue flash invaded the scene and a male body enveloped yours, pushing both of you aside in a rough, protective, intense gesture.

Five Hargreeves was on the stair railing, fighting Jayme, when Klaus's screams grab his attention. He didn't have much time to process what he was seeing, but the moment one of Diego's daggers slashed across your cheek, the primal, visceral instinct he'd felt so long ago, with The Handler on  The Commission, roared through him like an angry beast. So when another dagger was wielded and thrown into the air, he didn't think twice, didn't hesitate, didn't blink.

Dropping everything behind, Five Hargreeves dove into the blue flash, having you as the only focus in mind.

As soon as the crash of his body with yours caused you both to leave the deadly path, the arms, masculine and wide, wrapped around your back as if he were holding the only anchorage on the high seas in the middle of a storm. His heart was pounding in his chest, and as much that adrenaline, primal instinct and rage were bubbling through his body, he still managed to feel his soul sighing in deep relief when felt your warmth again in his arms.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

Diego's angry roar seemed to shake the walls, but didn't stop the obstinate, angry look that swallowed Five's expression.

“Diego…” his voice didn't match the situation the Hargreeves found themselves in. His tone was serious, steady, so calm it was terrifying, like the warning of darkness to the light. “Stay away from her.”

His brother's confused and perplexed look couldn't have been more accentuated. And even Klaus, known for being the least serious about situations, looked completely astonished. Five Hargreeves didn't held you like he was preventing a murder. No. He held you like Cerberus should have held the only person he was ever loyal to.

"You are fucking crazy?!" Diego gestured with his hands “Let go the enemy now!”

The Hargreeves have been through a lot, seen a lot. Many of them being absurd, beyond any rationality or law of physics, moments in which they had to deal with situations that were not possible to be of this world. But nothing, and no one, could have prepared Diego and Klaus for what they heard from Five;

"Never."

The moment was dispersed when Viktor appeared in the room, shaking, hurt, out of his mind. His head fell back in a single gesture, his arms opened up and the fists closed, as white lights began to shoot out from within his eyes and chest.

Five Hargreeves knew what that meant.

He didn't think twice before running to the side,  hiding you behind the bar counter and lowering you two bodies to the floor. His body in front of yours, blocking access to the roughest impact in you.

You two had three seconds, three seconds to look into each other's eyes before the flash explodes. And in that three seconds, the only thing that passed in the soul of both of you was the feeling of finally being where should be.

-----------

"They're stupid villains who think they're smart!" Ben was furious in the kitchen, pacing back and forth.

The last few days had passed like this. With Ben angry about the invasion, Ben angry about the fight, Ben angry about Marcus disappearing, Ben angry about... well... he was always angry.

Of all your siblings, he had the worst temper. Fei and Christopher were practically his dogs, going along with all of Ben's stupid plans just because... you really didn't know why they followed him so fervently, but had a theory that it was because they both thought they would have more power when Ben's plans came to fruition.

A hierarchical system that filled the family with toxicity.

On the other hand, there were Jayme and Alphonso. You never really understood the two, but you described them as bullies. A duo who liked the power they had and how they managed to exert it over people.

The only one you could relate to more deeply was Sloane.

"It would have been better if Y/n had made an attack." Alphonso brought your name up in conversation, his gaze full of rancor.

"Fuck off, asshole" It was the only thing you deigned to say, because you didn't have the patience to deal with his comments at the time.

The truth is, since the invasion, you couldn't get him out of your mind.

It was like a drug, an addiction, that had seeped into your blood from the first time you laid eyes on him. There was something there, something you could never explain. He should be the enemy. Your enemy. But…

The way he saved you from the knives, the way his arms wrapped around you. Almost like he already knows how to hold you. How to protect you.

Your heart couldn't slow down whenever your thoughts returned to that man. From the memory of him placing his body in front of you, standing at the forefront of the explosion.

He saved you. Everytime. And there was something that told you he would save you every chance he got.

The truth was…you wanted to see him. Know his name. Talk with him. There was no longer a fiber of your being that saw the situation as your siblingsdid, your body was facing the complete opposite north.

You wanted to touch him, not fight with him.

When time passed, and Luther showed up at the mansion as someone who was kidnapped, you, again, did not see the situation as a beneficial opportunity for your family. But for you.

Suddenly, your entire soul was gripped by a completely unsettling anxiety that made your hands itch, stomach churn, and your legs unable to stay still. Then you were swept by a feeling of deep sadness, as if you'd already experienced what it was like to spend your whole life wanting to see that man and never getting.

There was no more logic, rationality or coherence to what you were feeling, but finding him was as indispensable as breathing.

That's why you volunteered - more like an imposition - that you would be the one to escort Luther home the moment Ben said he could leave.

“It was kind of you to accompany me” The blond man smiled at you, as the two of you walked through the night streets.

"It was nothing." You tried to sound casual, but with every step toward your destination, the more your hands itched, the more your heart was racing, and in a moment, you found yourself picking up the pace to get there faster.

“I have to confess that you were a topic of discussion between my brothers.” Luther laughed, his odd way of bringing up the subject and not mincing words.

But that got your attention. "What do you mean?"

“A-ahem…well…from what I understand, Diego wanted to kill you, but Five stopped him and…”

Five…Five

His name was Five.

Something inside you stirred. An unfamiliar emotion, but one that made a smile rise to yourcheeks.

“Five” you tried to say aloud, and his name just… felt right on your lips.

You went the rest of the way not being able to pay attention to a single syllable Luther was saying. You don't wanted to be rude, but you just… couldn't stop thinking about Five.

��How long before we get there?” you cut off something Luther was saying about Sloane, and the blond eyebrows drawing together in strangeness.

“Actually” he looked at the big hotel in front of him “We already arrived and…”

But you couldn't stop yourself. All of your muscles felt like they had undergone countless electrical discharges, your heart was faster than any living soul has ever been, and your blood was rushing through  your veins like marathon runners. You increased your pace considerably, quickly climbing the steps and opening the doors of that building as if you had just walked through the gates of paradise.

You needed to see him.

Luther came up behind you, giving you a suspicious look and walking towards a bar, where the outlines of several people were talking.

-----------

"I returned." Luther's voice brought Five out of his thoughts, and a part of her brain tried to remember the time his brother had left.

And he didn't find any answers.

To his defence, Five's mind had been elsewhere these days. Moments when he rewound in his mind once, twice, three times. Not even the impending new apocalypse knocking on the door seemed to have any effect on Five. To be honest, he… saw no point in trying to save the world this time. Meeting you once was a miracle, but meeting you again, in an entirely different reality and without The Commission making things difficult, seemed like too much of a luxury for him to ignore.

The truth was that in the first attempt to escape the apocalypse he ended up sending the family to different times, with intervals of years between each one. And, deep down, he didn't know if he could handle trying to take you with him to another reality and end up losing you too.

Five had been through this once before. He knew pain too well not to be willing to risk it.

“What is the enemy doing here?!"

Diego's voice snapped Five out of his thoughts, and an electric current shot through his head and reverberated down to his toes. Immediately, without any hesitation, his eyes flew away, finding not just Luther - whit several bags in hand - but you beside him.

You.

Something inside him ignited, his heart raced and, for a moment, the whole world around him fell away.

But just for a moment, because Diego was already getting up from his seat.

“Hey. Hey!” Five teleported away, once again placing the body in front of you . “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

“What would anyone do to the enemy! What are you doing? Defending a stranger again?!"

“She is not a stranger, Diego. Now be quiet in your place before I have to do it for you.”

"She is not?" Klaus and Viktor said in unison

"I'm not?" Your voice, the only one that mattered to him, came from behind his back, quieter than the others but loud enough for him to hear.

Five turned towards you, turning his back on his siblings. Unlike how he looked at Diego, his eyes held all the softness and attention in the world when they met yours. A small smile appeared at the corner of his left mouth, a secret smile, hidden from the world but revealed only to you.

"It's a long story," he admitted, having no idea how to start. How to tell something that even to him don't make sense.

“I came to see you.” you rewarded his honesty with another truth, a gleam crossing his eyes like shooting stars. “I have time to listen.”

A smile blossomed on his lips, and Five was overcome by the purest feeling of happiness. Without saying anything, or giving anyone satisfaction, his hand laced into yours, and he disappeared with you in the blue flash.

-----------

Any sensible, practical, centered woman, would have laughed at what Five had just told you. Anyone who didn't get carried away by matters of the heart and didn't believe that two people, when destined to be together, are helped even by the wind, would have turned around and walked away.

But you weren't a sensible woman, nor practical, much less centered. Your being was composed of romance, adventure and magic. You fervently believed in destiny, soulmates and that some loves are capable of overcoming the barrier of space and time.

What's more, if all that wasn't enough, you also felt, from your soul to your bones, sensations that couldn't be explained. Feelings he was also saying he felt too. You believed in him. And that fact came as soft as the droplets of dew, as the brightness of the moon.

After his account came to end, with him letting himself be vulnerable in telling all the thoughts that ever crossed his mind about you, the urge to say just one thing screamed your blood rumbling. “You’re no the villain in my story” your words hung in the air.

“I am,” Five's voice brimmed with a liquid honesty that was able to chill your bones, but nothing in his words hinted at remorse for the things he'd already done. “But i'll be the villain for you. Not to you. I'll let worlds burn again if it means keeping you alive. In a problematic way, that I'll never be able to explain, I don't feel guilty about doing something if it means your safety.”

Five Hargreeves expected many things. Many different reactions. Many words of contradiction. But never what happened next.

Your mouth, without any hesitation, joined his in a kiss that was capable of making his world explode. His body was ignited by a fire that swallowed even his soul, washing away all his sins and giving a demon a taste of heaven.

So what was it like to kiss a goddess? An angel, a muse.

If before, without even touching your skin without the interference of clothing, Five would have happily accepted going to hell, now, with your hot mouth melting into his like warm honey, he would accept the torture of eternal fire with a smile on his face.

And when the small kiss intensified into something much bigger, his hands, warm and masculine, wrapped possessively around your waist. There was no going back. There was no turning back. Five would keep you for himself in the same selfishness that a villain steals a princess. And there was no hero in the world capable of pulling you away of his clutches.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” He found the last bit of strength to let you know when your hands untied his tie “I could really hurt you.”

But all good intentions evaporated when your eyes, eager and full of desire, blinked at him. There was an addictive sweetness in that look. The way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, the way your eyes held tinges of delicious submission but hid an incendiary fire behind them.

Fucking damn. He wanted you so badly.

"I don't care." Your breathless whisper invaded the room. But he didn't know if you understood the seriousness of the situation.

“Y/n.” his hands cupped your face. “I spent a lot of time contenting just for the way you looked at me. Spending sleepless nights reliving what it was like to feel the contour of your waist in my hand.” His voice was serious, deep, rough like sand scraping against stone. “Do you have any idea of the things I'm going to do to you now that I can finally, finally, have you?” his pitch lowered a few notes, like a predator talking to its prey.

You didn't know it, but only imagination made yours thighs tighten.

“I can destroy you.” his lips went to the foot of your ear, down to the curve of your neck, inhaling  your scent and tasting you. “I can leave your body purple, your breasts bitten, your hips marked by the aggressiveness of mine whenever I enter on you.”

A moan escaped your mouth, fingers tightening on his arms, head lolling to the side.

Oh lord, please he do that.

Five's hands went up to your shoulders, in a touch that became more and more possessive, gluttonous, as if he wanted to swallow you.

“I can spend hours fucking you.” his fingers lowered the straps of your dress, letting the fabric fall unceremoniously to the floor. Five pulled his face away enough to be able to look at your body fully, and a husky growl followed right away. “I can kill you.”

Here, in that moment, Five Hargreeves was giving you one last chance to give up, to make him tame the villain he was and who would destroy you for any other man.

If you slept with Five Hargreeves, you would never stop being his.

"Do it." but you didn't have an ounce of self-preservation in the inner body "please."

You didn't have to beg twice. His hands pulled your legs up, making you place your feet on his hips and hug him with your legs. Your back hit the closed bedroom door as Hargreeves' mouth claimed all it could of his. Twisting your tongue around his, biting and sucking on your bottom lip, he was beginning to mark you as his in a single kiss.

“You have no idea how much I want you.” his confession was more of a hoarse groan, hands fumbling with his belt and lowering the waistband of his pants.

Under other circumstances, he would have sucked you until drive you unconscious, pushing your walls with his fingers until you begged for his cock. But he didn't have the presence of mind to do that now. Not now. Not today. He warned of the consequences of wanting to continue at that moment. But you wanted, you begged, and now he was no longer afraid of being able to fuck you with all the vehemence he needed.

Your moans invaded the room very quickly, your waist, even if limited by the door, moved in his groin, exorcising any common sense and control that Five once had.

He pushed your panties to the side impolitely and entered you in one single, glorious, primal thrust. His cock slid in with extreme ease, being completely soaked by the way your pussy was so slick.

“Oh fucking hell” his growl sent even more waves of pleasure to your uterus, and you pressed your mouth to his neck to keep from screaming.

That's when he withdrew and pushed himself into you. Strong, brute. Hitting until found the bottom of the well. His thrusts began relentlessly, thrusting in and out of you aggressively, possessively, almost animalistic. Five's hands were all over yourbody, fingerprinting every bit of your flesh. The nails digging into your waist when you contracted and squeezed him within your plush walls.

“Fuck. fuck.” his groans mingled with the attrition of the bodies of you two against the door, which sent loud, telltale noises throughout the  hotel.

But you would rather die than stop.

His cock suddenly hit a place that made your moans come out too loud. Tears began to pool in the corner of your eyes, and your toes curled.

“Oh do you feel this, baby?” Five teased you, digging himself as deep as possible anatomically and rubbing the tip of his cock there, eliciting sly, desperate cries from you  "That's your cervix."

Then he went back to fucking you aggressively, this time pulling his chest away from you and digging his hands hard into the flesh of your hips, pulling you towards him at a intensity that could only be described as animalistic.

This was better than anything he had ever tasted in his life. Better than any sin. Better than any whiskey.

His cock desecrated your pussy like it was the only thing that mattered in the world, pulling thick liquids out of you that enveloped him in pasty white rings. Five Hargreeves would ensure that whenever you thought of any man, your mind was invaded by the way he fucked you.

"I will… I will…" your tearful voice blended with the noise of the door slamming and your bodies bumping into each other.

“Thats right, baby” his mouth covered your “cum for me. cum so I can fill that gluttonous pussy with my cum.”

If the way he thrust in and out of you wasn't enough to make you come, his lines had done the job. You came in a glorious explosion of stars, colors and sensations. Your body contracted with absurd force and relaxed like the best of massages. Your arms went limp around his neck, and you could feel his cock tremble and the hot, thick liquid fill your entire pussy.

The noise of the door stopped, his moans calmed down and now the only thing that could be heard was the heavy breathing in the air.

You thought it was over, until Five climbs a hand to your neck and lets out  a broken growl "'You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat, baby."

His cock moved inside you, moving in and out smoothly, pushing his cum even deeper inside you. Make sure you gobble it all up.

“Did you think we were done, princess?” he chuckled evilly, his lips moving closer until they were inches from yours. "I'm just getting started. I'm going to show you how much I've wanted you this whole fucking time.”

[hedonistpoet06]

What If The Storm Ends? - Part 1 Five Hargreeves x Female OC

'What if Five's time during that first apocalypse was slightly different, what if he wasn't alone for all those years?'

Synopsis: On April 1st 2019, the world ended. Icarus had indeed flown too close to the sun when Five Hargreeves pushed the limits of his power. The boy desperately yearned to use his powers to time travel and when he succeeded, he found himself trapped in the future apocalypse. Octavia Maddenfield had spent her whole life hiding her ability to shield and protect, only for it to save her when an asteroid collided into the earth, effectively wiping out all of humanity. The two teenagers are ecstatic to find that they are no longer alone in the apocalypse, however they must learn to navigate their newfound dynamic as Five tries to time travel back to the past and stop the end of the world from ever happening. Octavia is intrigued by the boy's sarcastic demeanour but also incredibly frustrated by his secretive nature, especially towards his past. And Five despises how easy Octavia can make him vulnerable, he tells himself that he cannot become invested in their obvious connection but something about her is so undeniably captivating.

Authors Note: This work is also available on my Wattpad under the users 'hedonistpoet04' and AO3 'heartofthehedonistpoet06' if you wish to read it there!

Word Count: 5099

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈 - 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐫̶𝐨̶𝐦̶𝐜̶𝐨̶𝐦̶ 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐬𝐞

i. 𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐑𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Octavia Maddenfield met Five Hargreeves during the second spring of the apocalypse.

The young girl had surprised herself with how long she had kept herself alive during the end of the world before she found him. During those first two years Octavia tried to tally the days but it was often difficult to keep track of the passing of time.

It was just before midday and Octavia had left the safety of her base to scavenge the city for anything resourceful, mostly food since that was of the utmost importance for her survival. She climbed the endless wreckage of concrete, metal and broken glass for what felt like hours. Octavia had explored most of the outskirts of the city but this was the deepest she had ever searched into it. She hoisted herself up onto a particularly large piece of concrete until her movement was suddenly paused by the foreign sound of something moving, something alive.

Octavia immediately froze at the reverberation of the sound throughout the otherwise lifeless landscape. She then quickly hid behind a particularly large piece of debrief, shielding her silhouette before turning her head to pinpoint the source of the noise. Her heart thudded painfully in the cavern of her chest, she could practically hear its pounding resonance deep within her eardrums. Octavia found herself polarised by the sudden prospect of seeing another person, another human being who was alive and made of flesh and bone. Her heart's incessant beating stopped abruptly when she identified the clear figure of a boy who had to be no older than herself. His back was turned and his face was hidden but she was able to extract some of his key features.

The boy had dark brown hair which looked somewhat overgrown and a slender physique, both were probably attributed to the apocalypse. Octavia felt slightly at ease by the knowledge that the first human she had seen in two whole years was most likely around her own age, however, she was also terrified. She stiffened when she saw the large hunting rifle he had strapped to his back as he continued to burrow through the wreckage like a hungry marsupial.

Octavia couldn't help but grow jealous at how fortunate this stranger must have been to have come across a gun in this desolate wasteland, as she was forced to make do with the few knives she could find that weren't completely rusted.

He was muttering to himself whilst digging through the debris, as if he was intently looking for something. Octavia peeked her head out a bit further out to try and hear what he was saying only for the attempt to be futile. She felt an overwhelming surge of curiosity and adrenaline coursing through her body, encouraging the girl to get closer and decipher what exactly this boy was doing. Careful to not disrupt him, she slowly started to crawl on all fours until she reached a fallen pillar. Octavia decided that this was close enough and inched her head out to get a clearer look. The boy in question was still oblivious to her presence, he continued to mumble to himself and she noticed his demeanour grew irritable. He swore under his breath before throwing a chunk of rubble into the distance, as if that was going to alleviate his frustration.

Octavia flinched at his sudden action and instinctively sought refuge behind the pillar. Unfortunately the sound of her quick movement had caught his attention. She froze and clasped a hand over her mouth to muffle the small surprised gasp that was about to leave her lips. It was too late, the boy knew that she was here or he was at least aware that somebody was watching him. Octavia was painfully aware of the large, lethal rifle strapped to his back as she heard him load and cock it, preparing to shoot.

She was stuck in a rather complicated situation, she couldn't run in case he decided to shoot her and if she tried to jump out and defend her honour he'd probably also shoot her. She was trapped with nowhere to go, so Octavia did what she told herself was a last and final resort. She used her powers on him.

She swiftly emerged from her hiding spot behind the pillar and met the eyes of the boy in front of her. Although he was still a good few strides away from her, Octavia could see the bewilderment in his eyes at her appearance. However, the barrel of the gun was still pointed in her direction and this made her panic. Octavia quickly outstretched her hands and focused all of her energy on manifesting her powers. She drew all of her focus into conjuring a forcefield big enough to encase the boy in front of her. Soon, the familiar lilac light of Octavia's ability had erupted around him, encasing him in a small but sturdy forcefield. She watched as he lowered the gun and darted his head to examine the newly formed forcefield, obviously taken aback by the abrupt manifestation of her power.

"Don't you dare move!" Octavia called out. She tried her hardest not to sound intimidating, after all she did have the upper hand in this situation. Although, the girl's voice slightly faltered, intimidation bleeding through her attempt at assertion. The boy took a step back in his new confinement, as if he was analysing the sphere around him. His eyes then darted from the forcefield to her.

"I wasn't going to attack you!" He snapped back, although the pitch and the youth present in his voice made it sound rather half hearted.

A complicated pang resonated in Octavia's chest at the realisation that this was the first person she had seen in two entire years. She wasn't exactly sure how to respond to the situation at hand, should she laugh? Cry? Or maybe just focus on making it out of here alive without a bullet between her eyes.

"You were pointing a gun at me!" Octavia retorted, gesturing to the rifle.

"You snuck up on me!" He bickered back and she quickly became aware of just how young they both sounded, like true teenagers quarrelling with each other.

"You have a gun!" She reiterated.

"You trapped me in a bubble!" The boy exclaimed before he demanded to be let go "get me out of this thing!"

"It's not a bubble!" Octavia countered, slightly offended at his belittling choice of words, "Besides, how do I know you're not going to hurt me?" she interrogated him further, eyeing the rifle in his hands.

"Okay, no gun. See? I'm not going to shoot you." He quickly shuffled the weapon to its original spot on his back and put his hands up as if he were surrendering.

"Not now you certainly aren't." She said, clearly referring to the forcefield around him. "Struggling is pointless by the way." Octavia tried her hardest to sound cocky.

The boy's eyes shot Octavia a withering glare, he saw straight through the facade of her confidence. "Yeah, obviously," he muttered back, trying to tug against the force field only to no avail.

He gives one more useless tug before he stops, scoffing. "Can you get this thing off of me?" The boy huffed, his irritation only growing.

Octavia had actually considered letting him out, a part of her youthful naivety believed that he was harmless enough but she was brought back to reality by the weapon that he carried and the fact that he was a total stranger.

"Only if you can promise me two things." She finally said, lowering her hands slightly but kept the forcefield maintained. She watched as the boy raised a brow at the bargain, clearly somewhat puzzled. He looks her up and down again, still eyeing her warily and Octavia suddenly felt extremely self conscious, like he was trying to dissect her with his eyes, which he was.

Five was still slightly disorientated by the purple light which surrounded him. A small part of him was impressed at the supernatural ability this girl obtained, the other part of him was pissed that he couldn't use his own to spatial jump out of her stupid bubble.

"And what exactly is that?" His voice was filled with dry amusement as she noticed him slowly but smugly cross his arms behind the lilac force field.

"Firstly, you'll tell me who you are..." Octavia started to speak as she looked him up and down again, examining to see if he had any other hidden weapons on him "and secondly, you have to promise not to kill me." Her cheeks slightly flush in annoyance as she sees him let out a chuckle at the girl's request, as if he found it humorous.

"Five," He announced matter of factly. "My name's Five," he glanced up at the force field again. "And I promise not to kill you," he responded with a bit of a scoff, in disbelief at the absurdity of his own words.

"Like the number?" Octavia raised her brow in surprise as she was genuinely taken aback by the absurdity of his name. The numerical nature of the boy's name was certainly not what she was expecting.

The boy, now renowned as Five exhaled a frustrated breath before pinching the skin between his brows. "Yes, like the number," he responds with a monotonous voice, like he's answered that question one too many times before.

"You only promised me two questions for my freedom, so let me out!" He said, growing increasingly more infuriated. Although Octavia had an abundance of questions regarding the peculiar name she subdued her curiosity into the back of her mind as she remembered their bargain.

"Right, sorry." She quickly muttered an apology and focused her energy on levitating the boy through the forcefield, hovering him just above the ground and moving him closer to where she stood. A perk of Octavia's unique ability was being able to control the contents inside her forcefields, including making them float. She watched in amusement as Five looked absolutely perplexed at his sudden levitation, his eyes flickered between his feet and back up at Octavia.

"What the hell—" he muttered, startled at the lack of ground underneath him. Octavia closed her eyes and focused her effort into deactivating the force field, slowly but surely the lilac light began to melt away. She watched as Five fell to the ground in a not so graceful manner, his sense of balance obviously disrupted by the sudden air trip.

"Crap! Sorry-" Octavia grimaced at the sound and started to move towards him to help him back to his feet but she held herself back. He's stunned, trying to re-ground himself for a moment before shooting an annoyed look up at her and she can't help but feel slightly guilty.

"Could've tried to make that a bit more graceful." Five huffed out, somewhat breathless from the abrupt descent to the ground.

Octavia watched as he stood up and dusted off his oversized black jacket. Five was now only a few feet away from her and this granted Octavia the opportunity to get a good look at his appearance. As much as Octavia was reluctant to admit it to herself, he was undoubtedly the most beautiful boy she had ever seen. Even when all things at the end of the world were considered, he was most certainly not that unfortunate looking. Five was definitely not in the cleanest state, neither was Octavia as their personal appearances were the last of their concerns when it came to their respective survival.

Octavia never considered boys her age to be cute or even somewhat appealing, her only understanding of what made a boy attractive were the boy band posters on the wall of her childhood bedroom. But something about Five was so endearing to her, from his slender cheekbones, to his green eyes or the way his messy, outgrown hair slightly covered his eyes. Maybe it was the fact that he was the first boy she had seen in two years or perhaps it was just the subconscious desperation from being alone for so long. As Five stood a few steps away from Octavia she was able to discern that he was hardly taller than herself, maybe a few inches give or take.

Five had never taken a particular interest in girls, especially before the events of the apocalypse. He respected them of course, he had two sisters after all, Allison and Vanya. Despite the fact that they could often get on his nerves, he admired his sisters, although not to the same degree as Luther who habitually made heart eyes at Allison across the dinner table. Five didn't understand the appeal of them as he watched Luther practically drool like a puppy over his adopted sister. Perhaps the boy's mind was too preoccupied with other more important things such as mastering his ability to time travel through his spatial jumps.

But when Five's eyes first laid themselves on Octavia up close he felt an unfamiliar sense of intrigue consume him. The boy was quick to disregard it as natural curiosity in response to seeing another human being after the considerable amount of time he spent alone.

Octavia didn't look like any girl Five had known before. She looked like what you'd expect from someone who had survived the apocalypse this long. Her skin and clothes were dirtied. A slightly beaten, oversized green cargo jacket covered most of her young yet malnourished physique. Her ashy blonde hair was pulled back into two braids that hung next to her neck and effectively kept it out of her face.

What surprised Five the most about her however, was the way her lips had suddenly curled into a laugh, a bubbly girlish laugh which was unlike anything Five had ever heard before.

"I really am sorry!" She spoke between a gentle laugh which made Five's ears flush under the aviator helmet he wore.

"I haven't exactly mastered the whole 'levitating your captors' trick yet." She continued.

"Yeah, I'd say you don't quite have it down yet," Five responds with a scoff, raising a brow as he looks at her hands which she was unknowingly flexing and contracting. This was a common mannerism of Octavia's which occurred after she manifested her powers, it was a way to release the built up energy that resided in her palms once she conjured a forcefield.

"How did you do that...?" Five asked, his voice more docile now. There was no residue of impertinence, his question was sincere.

"The 'bubble' thing?" Octavia replied playfully, recycling his little insult from earlier.

"Yeah." He said dryly.

"I've always been able to do it, ever since I can remember." She replied honestly.

"When's your birthday?" Five asked suddenly, the question puzzled Octavia immensely as she tried to determine the relevance of his question. Five however was stunned by the occurrence of finding someone else with a supernatural ability outside of his siblings. As the boy eyed her appearance he realised that she had to be no older that himself, unless she had coincidentally time travelled to the future, which he highly doubted, this girl must have been born years after October 1st, 1989. "Why? Do you want to know my star sign?" Octavia teased, she tried to find the humour in his abrupt and seemingly random question.

"Answer me damn it, when were you born?!" His voice was stern and Octavia was even more confused by his bizarre infatuation with her birthday.

"Jesus fine! It's June 20th 2007." She caved just to shut him up.

"Shit..." Five muttered to himself, almost in disbelief. There was no conceivable way that Octavia could have been one of the forty three supernatural children which Five himself was a part of. She was technically born eighteen years before him, so the chance of meeting someone who also had supernatural abilities was next to impossible, or so he believed.

"So you were... you were young when this all happened, huh?" He spoke up, trying to swiftly redirect the conversation.

"Yeah. I was twelve." Octavia confirmed and Five is painfully quiet, his eyes still examining her with an intense precision like that of a scientist, "What about you?" she asked softly.

"Thirteen." He admitted.

"Only a year older, huh?" Octavia concluded, and Five mentally winced at the complicated situation. Hypothetically yes, he was only one year older than the girl in front of him, however, he was also born almost two decades before her. This was such a mind fuck for Five.

"I guess you could say that." Five shrugged, trying to deflect the possibility of this conversation going any further.

"So you're fifteen?" Clearly his attempt didn't work.

"Correct. Which makes you fourteen now?" Five indulged her.

"Also correct." Octavia shot back and Five had to bite back a small smirk at her sharpness.

"You know, you interrogated me about my name so I think it's only fair that I ask yours." Five figured that he might as-well be polite and ask the name of the bubble conjuring girl who both mildly irritated and intrigued him.

"Octavia." She declared and Five felt his stomach tighten at each syllable that left her mouth. It was an uncommon name, Five certainly couldn't talk when it cam to abstract names but something about Octavia sounded so eloquent, almost old fashioned even. Although he didn't see much of the future as he jumped forward in time he assumed that it was defiantly not a common baby name for someone born in 2007.

"I would say it's a pleasure to meet you Octavia, but these aren't exactly the most pleasurable of circumstances." He said, the formality and authenticity of his voice made Octavia avert her gaze from his own, almost shyly.

"It certainly isn't..." She agreed.

There was a prominent silence between them until Octavia spoke up.

"Sorry for trapping you by the way. I should have known you weren't a fan of bubbles." Five was caught off guard by her genuine apology.

He then replayed the past few minutes in an attempt to put it into perspective, and in all fairness, he was the one with the hunting rifle strapped to him.

However, as Five thought to himself a mischievous idea weaved its way into his mind. He was ready to even the playing field between them.

"It's fine, those were just your flight or fight instincts. Like how mine would be something like this if you didn't trap me first..." ​​Before Octavia could even respond to Five's cryptic response, he suddenly erupted into blue light before her.

He shifts in a split second. Instead of being several feet in front of her he was now only mere inches away. Five looked rather satisfied with himself, a cheshire grin dripping from his face as he watched Octavia's face morph from shock to that of confusion.

"Holy shit!" The girl jumped back in sudden surprise at his sudden manifestation. She stumbled backwards onto her rear, she hit the rubble covered ground and watched as Five let out a small but genuine laugh at her reaction. The boy had missed the dramatic reactions of surprise which he gained from people whenever he used his power. He took a small step closer as he stands over her, looking down with a dry smirk.

"Not feeling so intimidating now, are you?" Octavia watched in disbelief as he extended a hand out to help her up off of her ass. She takes it gratefully although she should have been mad at his little prank, she was fascinated by his own supernatural ability. Five lifted her back to her feet and was slightly stunned at the feeling of another humans skin gracing his own.

Although Five wore a battered pair of fingerless gloves he could feel Octavia's skin against his own, she was warm to his touch. He noticed the way her fingers clasped around his as he helped her to her feet. He admired the callouses which she had evidently earned from surviving this long by herself.

"So you're like me?" She asked and Five retracted his hand, the lingering feeling of her skin on his was plaguing him still despite the loss of contact.

"More or less." He said bluntly, not wishing to elaborate more.

"Wow, sorry." Octavia said shakily, still trying to process everything. "I'm just a little shocked, my whole life my parents told me that I wasn't like other kids and that nobody could know about my ability. But here you are..."

"Alive and breathing," Five said smugly.

"Wait. if you can teleport... Why didn't you just teleport out of my force field?" She asked, smirking slightly as she watched Five roll his eyes.

"You didn't think I tried that, smart ass? It seems you have complete control of the energy in your little bubble, including that of your captors, meaning I was rendered powerless." he retorted "and I don't teleport, that's such an amateur word for something so technical! I prefer to call it spatial jumps, it's the precise manipulation and calculation of spatiotemporal boundaries which I can manoeuvre to get from point A to B-"

"Wow. Nerd alert." Octavia can't help but scoff in amusement at his scientific explanation of his powers. She then proceeded to laugh even harder at the way his eyes squinted in irritation at her reaction.

"You little shit..." He replied at her display of immaturity.

"So, Five, how have you made it this far?" Octavia felt his anger brewing and quickly changed the topic of conversation and gestured to him, referring to his well equipped getup.

He crossed his arms over his chest and gave a small shrug, turning his gaze back to her.

"I just... did," He responds, unbothered with providing anything more.

"I just did." Octavia mocked his ambiguous response, changing the pitch of her voice to sound more serious and stoic, like Five. She felt his eyes glare daggers at hers in response to the childlike mimicry.

He stepped forward now, looking even more annoyed than before. Nobody had tested Five like this, not since his youth when his siblings were still around.

"Watch it." He warned in his typical dry tone which Octavia was starting to grow acquainted with the more he spoke.

As Five stepped forward Octavia quickly manifested her power again, a rectangular shield emerged just in front of the boy as he began to walk towards her.

"Or what?" She said as he walked straight into the shield. The scene before her had reminded Octavia of those embarrassing moments when you would accidentally walk straight into a glass sliding door.

"Oof-" Five grunted as he walked face-first into the force field, nearly toppling backward at the unexpected collision. He stumbled backwards several steps, rubbing the centre of his face where he just collided right into her shield. He looked back at Octavia, a somewhat annoyed but less menacing glare was painted in his green eyes.

"That wasn't funny." He mumbled through gritted teeth.

"Oh come on, that was pretty funny to me." Octavia deactivated the forcefield and she held her stomach as a deep genuine laugh left her lips. It was probably the hardest Octavia had ever laughed during her whole two years of being stuck in the apocalypse alone.

She didn't notice it then but Five's expression had softened for a fraction of a second as she laughed, the reverberation of her voice had filled the otherwise barren space.

And there it was again, that disgustingly unrecognisable feeling that consumed the deepest pits of Five's stomach.

Her laughter had stood out the most to Five, stunning him slightly although he would never admit it in that moment. Octavia's voice was bright and melodic, it didn't irritate him in the same way that Klaus's laughter had when he stole from Allisons wardrobe and proceeded to be chased by her through the mansion, taunting Allison with her favourite skirt. But now, the apocalypse for himself had been characterised by the sound of despair, from the burning debris to the deafening silence.

Octavia's laughter juxtaposed everything else desolate and decrepit which he had become accustomed to hearing after all this time. It was so full of life.

Five then understood why people often referred to others' laughs as being infectious. Octavia's laughter had ignited something, this unfamiliar warmth and queasiness started in his abdomen and soon expanded out into his bones and through to his skin. He felt it everywhere and he hated it. Was this just a symptom of the adrenaline? it had to be.

Five quickly broke away from his thoughts and returned to his traditional, irritated demeanor.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" He asked, taking another step towards her again. A small part of him knew he'd probably walk into another force field again, but he was a little too mad to care right now.

"Hey, give me a break. You're the first person I've seen in how long... like what... two years?" Octavia asked, her laughter subsiding and Five finally felt like he could somewhat relax.

"Have you been by yourself for two years?" Five was curious at her revelation, eager to know if she too had spent the last two years in solitude.

"Yeah. Since day one." Octavia explained. Five noticed a distant look which painted her eyes as if she was recalling the first day she had realised she was alone in this concrete hells-cape.

"And you've made it this far?" Five asked softly and he mentally cringed at how patronising he sounded, he didn't mean for his question to sound that why. The truth was Five was incredibly impressed that she had endured two whole years by herself, finding enough food, water, shelter and even fighting off sickness.

Surviving an apocalypse was no easy feat, Five knew that all too well.

"What? Do you not think that me and my bubbles could have lasted this long?" Five was silent for a moment. Of course he didn't think that, in actuality her power would be incredibly resourceful for the conditions the both of them found themselves in. Five struggled to articulate a defensive statement to her teasing but Octavia spoke up again before he could formulate anything worth saying.

"Do you have a group or something?" She asked and Five subconsciously thanked her for changing the topic.

"No. I'm alone." He admitted.

"Well, I guess that makes two of us." Octavia crossed her arms over her chest before she spoke again, "Your powers.. Are they the reason you survived the initial impact too?"

"Yes." Five looked down at the ground as he answered. He wasn't technically lying, he had survived the destructive impact of whatever ended the world because he had spatial jumped too far into the future. That could theoretically be interpreted as him using his powers to survive the mass extinction of all of humanity, right?

He just simply twisted the truth, that's all. Besides, there was no way Octavia would know if he was lying or not.

"You're a boy of few words, Cinco." She retorted and Five shot his gaze back up towards her.

"God- please don't call me that." Five groaned. The nickname not only irritated him but it was the very title his brother, Diego used to call him and hearing it fall from Octavia's lips was painfully nostalgic.

"Can you blame me?" Octavia shrugged and Five clicked his tongue.

"So... what were you doing out here?" She asked, gesturing to the mountain of concrete behind him.

"Looking for food, what else?" Five explained, his voice straightforward and apathetic.

"Fair enough, we all have to eat. Although I don't think you're gonna find much in that pile of concrete." Octavia wasn't judging the boy for his attempt at searching for resources, more so where he was looking. The landscape before them was nothing but grey desolate rubble.

"Well, I can't exactly afford to be picky, can I?" Five rationalised.

"Touché." She said in an approving tone.

Five didn't exactly know how he should continue the conversation as an elongated silence is exchanged between the two of them. Octavia tried to look anywhere but Five's piercing green gaze as the absence of noise consumed them. Although Octavia had been weary to the boy as a potential threat, she couldn't find it in herself to depart from him so quickly. As for Five, he couldn't extract or define the unknown inquisitiveness that overwhelmed his thoughts. He was standing before another living, breathing human and he couldn't quite believe it, these weren't the rotting bodies he had found buried under the remnants of the city.

Five did not want to depart from her presence so quickly, and he hated it.

"Hey.. I have some baked beans I found not too long ago, you're more than welcome to have some. If you want, that is?" Octavia offered and Five had to replay her voice in his head to ensure what he was hearing was correct.

"You're seriously willing to share your food with me during the apocalypse?" He pointed to himself, his head tilted in disbelief. Was this girl actually offering her own food to him despite trapping him in a bubble only mere moments ago?

"Look, do you want food or not?" Five panicked at her question, like she was threatening to take away the prospect of food so quickly.

"Yes." He said sharply, not caring how desperate he sounded in that second. However, Five felt his face begin to grow warm again when Octavia let out a small giggle at his eagerness.

He despised how easily she could get under his skin.

"Okay, just promise not to murder me on our walk back to mine?" She began to adjust the backpack she had resting on her shoulders and Five took that as the cue that they were leaving.

"If I wanted you to, you would be dead already." Five said proudly. Although his words were grim they carried a weight of truth to them, he probably could have killed Octavia instantly once she freed him from her bubble, but why would he want to do that? Not when he had been alone for so long already.

Even if Octavia was incredibly infuriating there was something about her wit and charm that Five found slightly familiar, somewhat comforting even.

"That's reassuring." She said sarcastically.

"I promise I won't try anything. Cross my heart" Five said, sounding so sincere that it was almost jarring to Octavia.

"Hope to die?" She asked warningly. Five raised a brow at her childish question that he believed to only exist on the school yard.

"You're hilarious. But yeah, cross my heart, I won't kill you. I promise." He shoved his hands in his pockets as they began to walk with Octavia leading the way.

"Watch out, I might just have to bubble you again if you try anything." Octavia held out her hands playfully mimicking how she would manifest her powers. Five rolled his eyes and subdued a small smirk that formed on his face.

"Hey, I always keep my word!" He was almost offended at her skepticism, however he didn't blame her, they were still strangers.

"I'm holding you to it, Five." She replied, looking back to face Five, throwing him a small smile.

[onlyangle1]

Stitching Him Up.

Hiya!! This is my first fic so bare with me- Also it's really short so sorry about that! when i was writing it i was expecting it to be longer than it was- Anyway I don't really know what else to say so...Enjoy!

P.S: Remember you can give requests whenever you want, im sure i will get round to them!

Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are sitting in the academy with a nice book when five walks in obviously hurt, you help him get cleaned up and he confesses to you after thanking you for helping him

Warnings: blood, needles, injury, my writing

You were sitting in the living room of the academy, quietly reading a book when Five stumbled in, clutching his side. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking up at him with a concerned stare, squinting your eyes a little when he waved you off, hobbling over to you.

“I’m fine, what were you reading?” he asked. You knew there was something wrong, but you told yourself to leave it. If Five didn’t want you to know, then you weren’t going to pry, if he needed help he would come to you, you thought.

You looked at him wearily but answered his question none the less. “oh! its just this book ben was talking to me about, he said I would like it and let me borrow it! How nice is that?” you smile, holding out the book to Five.

Five took the book out of your hands, taking a look at both covers and flicking through the first few pages, nodding along to what you were saying. “Hm, that is nice of him.”, he said, thinking to himself and wincing as he sat down on the sofa opposite you clutching his side.

“Okay, are you hurt or something? I can tell there’s something wrong!”

“I’ll live, it’s fine.” he grunted, but you could see the pain etched on his face. You got up off the sofa and moved to his before you gently lifted up his shirt to see what was wrong. A nasty cut ran across his side, and you could tell it was deep. “I need to stitch this up,” you said, looking at it while softly running your fingers across his skin, getting a hiss from Five. “Sorry! Sorry, one sec’ I’ll get the first aid kit.” you said, standing up and walking into the kitchen to get the kit from under the sink.

When you get back to the sitting room, you find five with his head back against the sofa, clearly in pain. You wished he would tell you when he was hurt, but you knew he never would. It would hurt his ego. “you ready? This might hurt a little.” you, told him, with the reply of a nod yes.

You set to work, carefully cleaning and sterilizing the wound before threading a needle. Five hissed in pain as you started to stitch, but he didn’t complain. You worked quickly and efficiently, making sure to close the wound tight. “There,” you said, tying off the last knot. “All done.”

“Thanks,” Five said, breathing a little easier now that the wound was closed. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

You smiled at him, feeling a little warmth in your chest. Despite his gruff exterior, Five had a vulnerable side that only a select few were allowed to see. You were grateful to be one of those people. “Anytime,” you said, packing up the first aid kit. “Just don’t make a habit of getting hurt, okay?”

Five chuckled, wincing a little at the pain. “I’ll try not to,” he said, leaning back on the couch. “But you know how it is.”

You nodded, knowing all too well the dangers of their world. You had stopped the apocalypse three times now, and you were relieved to have a bit of a break for a while. But with each passing day, you were glad to have the Hargreeves by your side. And you were especially grateful for Five. He could be a dick sometimes, but he would always look out for you and his family.

“So, what happened? Not another apocalypse, I hope.” You joked before shaking your head and muttering “sorry, that wasn’t funny.” Five looked over at you as you packed away the first aid equipment. “I ran into a few men from the commission. Guess they had a sort of problem with me. Anyway, one of them had a knife i didn’t know about and cut me. I got them back for it though.” Five stated, sounding pretty proud of himself despite getting hurt in the process.

“Just..be carful, okay? I don’t know what I- we would do if something happened to you” you told him quickly correcting yourself hoping he wasn’t listening and didn’t catch it but oh of course he did, he always listened when you talked, it was like your the only person in the world and he just had to listen to you.

“i will.” he said. He seemed to be thinking of something before he finally spoke up. “I really care about you, you know. More than most people and I know it’s not just because of how much we’ve been through together, though that does help.” Five nodded along with himself almost like he was agreeing to what he was saying.

You look up at him, feeling yourself freeze as his eyes meet yours, feeling your heart start to race. Was he really saying what you think he was saying? What you had been wanting him to say for years now?

He took a deep breath, his hand reaching out to touch yours. “Well, what I’m trying to say is that I love you. That I’ve loved you for a long time, ever since we got partnered up together in the commission, but I was too afraid to tell you. And I don’t want to keep it a secret anymore.”

You didn’t know what to say. You had always suspected that there was something more between you two, but to hear him say it out loud was almost too much to handle. “I love you too, Five,” you said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.

He smiled, a genuine smile that lit up his face. “Good,” he said, leaning in to kiss you. It was a soft, gentle kiss, full of all the love and tenderness that had been building between you two for so long.

As you broke apart, you knew that this was just the beginning. There would be more missions, more battles to fight, but you were ready for them all as long as you had Five by your side. Together, you were unstoppable. You always had been.

[srslyblvck]

moment of peace, five hargreeves

pairing: five hargreeves x gn!reader

synopsis: after the embarrassing fight with the sparrows, y/n and the umbrella academy enter hotel obsidian. y/n and five finally have time to relax

warnings: mentions of killing (not much), fluff

word count: 1k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE SOFT HUM OF jazz music filled the dimly lit room in Hotel Obsidian. Y/N and Five Hargreeves had finally found a brief respite from the chaos that had dominated their lives. The scent of old wood and vintage leather mixed with the faint aroma of a dinner long since finished, creating an atmosphere that felt both nostalgic and comforting.

Y/N was adjusting the volume on an old radio they had found, smiling as a particularly slow and sultry tune began to play. Five, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, watched them with a rare expression of contentment on his face.

"Care to dance?" Y/N asked, turning to face Five, their eyes twinkling with a mixture of mischief and affection.

Five straightened up and walked towards Y/N, his usual sharp demeanor softened by the intimate setting. "I thought you'd never ask," he replied, extending his hand.

They moved together in the small space between the bed and the dresser, their bodies naturally falling into a rhythm. Five's hand rested gently on Y/N's waist, his other hand holding theirs firmly but tenderly. Y/N wrapped their arm around Five's shoulder, feeling the tension ease out of both their bodies as they swayed to the music.

It felt surreal to have this moment of peace after everything they had been through. The relentless apocalypses, the battles with The Handler, and the recent conflict with the Sparrow Academy had left them both physically and emotionally drained. But here, in this stolen moment, they could pretend that the world wasn't constantly on the brink of ending.

Five looked down at Y/N, his usually sharp eyes softened by the dim light. "I never thought we'd get a moment like this," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N smiled up at him, their eyes full of understanding. "We deserve it, Five. After everything we've been through, we deserve this."

The music slowed even further, the saxophone's mournful wail blending perfectly with the steady beat of their hearts. Five pulled Y/N a little closer, resting his forehead against theirs. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he confessed, his breath warm against Y/N's skin.

"You'd manage," Y/N replied softly. "But luckily, you don't have to."

They stayed like that, swaying gently, for what felt like hours. The world outside their room ceased to exist, and for the first time in a long time, they felt truly safe. As the song came to an end, Five stepped back slightly, his eyes never leaving Y/N's.

"Shall we?" he asked, nodding towards the bed.

Y/N nodded, a small smile playing on their lips. They climbed into the bed, the sheets cool and inviting against their skin. Five settled next to them, immediately wrapping his arms around their waist and pulling them close. They fit together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces finally finding their match.

Lying there in the dark, they could hear the faint sounds of the hotel around them—the distant clinking of glasses from the bar downstairs, the murmur of conversations, and the occasional creak of the old building. But all those noises seemed far away, drowned out by the steady rhythm of their breathing.

Y/N nestled their head against Five's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall as he breathed. "It's nice to finally relax," they murmured, their voice barely audible.

Five's hand traced soothing patterns on their back. "Yeah, it is," he agreed. "No apocalypses, no villains, just us."

For a while, they lay there in comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts but united by their shared presence. Y/N's fingers traced the scars on Five's arm, reminders of the battles they had fought and won together.

"Do you think it'll ever end?" Y/N asked quietly, their voice tinged with uncertainty. "The chaos, the fighting... do you think we'll ever have a normal life?"

Five sighed, his grip tightening slightly. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I do know that as long as we're together, we can handle anything."

Y/N lifted their head to look at him, their eyes shining with determination. "You're right. We can."

They kissed softly, a gentle promise of more moments like this, more stolen pieces of happiness amidst the turmoil. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N rested their head back on Five's chest, feeling a deep sense of contentment wash over them.

Five closed his eyes, his mind finally quieting. "You know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I've spent so long trying to fix everything, to save everyone. But right now, all I want is this. Just you and me."

Y/N smiled, their fingers intertwining with his. "Then let's make the most of it," they said. "Let's just be us, for tonight."

They fell into a comfortable silence once more, the weight of their past and the uncertainty of their future temporarily lifted. In that small room in the Hotel Obsidian, they found a sanctuary. It was imperfect and fleeting, but it was theirs.

As the minutes passed, Y/N's fingers began to explore Five's hair, running through the soft strands with a gentle touch. Five sighed contentedly, the feeling soothing and intimate. Y/N marveled at the way his usually tense features relaxed completely under their touch, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You know," Y/N whispered, their voice barely louder than a breath, "I've always loved your hair."

Five chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through Y/N's body. "Is that so?" he murmured, his eyes still closed.

"Mm-hmm," Y/N replied, their fingers continuing to move through his hair, massaging his scalp gently. "It's always been a part of you that seems... untouchable. But now, having you here, like this... it feels so real."

Five opened his eyes, meeting Y/N's gaze with a tenderness that was rare for him. "You make me feel real," he admitted. "In a world that's constantly changing, you are my constant."

Y/N's heart swelled at his words, their fingers still threading through his hair. "And you're mine," they said softly. "No matter what happens, we have each other."

They held each other tighter, the room around them fading into the background. Y/N continued to run their fingers through Five's hair, their touch light and loving. Five's breathing slowed, each breath deeper and more relaxed than the last.

As sleep began to claim them, Y/N whispered, "I love you, Five."

"I love you too, Y/N," Five replied, his voice a sleepy murmur.

Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, their fingers still tangled in his hair. They closed their eyes, allowing the peacefulness of the moment to wash over them completely.

In the morning, the challenges would return, and the fight would continue. But tonight, in the quiet sanctuary of their room at Hotel Obsidian, Five and Y/N had found something precious: peace, love, and the strength to face whatever came next.

And as long as they had each other, they knew they could conquer anything.