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isnt-it-loverly · 4 years

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falling for you// five hargreeves

Warnings: blood and burns

Summary: A mission goes sour and Five quite literally sweeps you off your feet.

Word count: 1300

Requested: jump, I’ll catch you

Author note: first time writing from the prompt list! I also started working on the next part of little birdie so expect that very soon! I also have a few more ideas and requests to do. Thank you so much for the support and love on my fics.

It all started out like any normal day. You and your partner, Five, were assigned a boringly average case. A businessman in 1940 whose death would somehow lead to the fall of the Third Reich. You were just a field worker, so you didn’t care how, you just knew he needed to die. So simple you don’t know why they needed two of you. However if there was one thing you and Five did well together, it was to execute orders.

The pair of you were a well-oiled machine, you worked in tangent, and you complimented each other nicely. You were the “it couple” of the Commission- everyone wanted to be you.

Although you were no couple, the relationship was strictly business. Sure, sometimes you shared a bed when your motel was downgraded, our you would help him through a nightmare, or he would always pay for your dinner. He was your confidant, your shoulder to sleep on, your best friend. It had taken a lot for you to reach this point. Both of you were exceedingly closed off and very VERY stubborn. Three years of forced partnership had blossomed into something beautiful. Of course, you two weren’t without fault. You still fought from time to time, every relationship had its hicks and bumps in the road. But you had grown to care for him deeply and you knew that beneath that cold, hard exterior that Five cared for you too.

The landing was nothing but ordinary. You were in some rinky-dink alleyway in Paris, France. You straightened out your dress that The Handler forced you to wear, claiming that it would help you blend in. You linked your arm with Five’s, and he hummed in response.

“Let’s get this asshole so I can get out of this stupid dress,” You grumbled in annoyance.

“I think it’s a nice change of pace from the pantsuit, you look less like an assassin and more like a person,” Five replied with a genuine smile.

That was certainly weird. Sure Five was nice to you, but with little things like putting extra sugar in his coffee so when you inevitably stole it, it would be the way you like it. Never just an outright compliment, and has he always smiled at you like that? You wrote off your thoughts and decided that maybe he was just in a good mood that morning.

You two headed towards your target's office. Since it was 1940, there was no security system so no need to be discrete. Although you had a flare for the dramatics, the plan was for you to snuff him out yourself and for Five to keep a watch outside in case things went sour. He watched as you walked in the building, a little nervous that you were going in alone but he knew that you were tough as nails. This was a simple case and he was glad to have a break. He stood next to the fire escape, watching the fourth story window like a hawk.

You waltzed into Mr. Duponte’s office. Your dress was slightly unbuttoned and your lipstick was obnoxiously red.

“Bonjour,” You spoke like a melody. You could tell that your appearance made him flustered. His cheeks glowed red and his eyes widened.

“I seem to be lost,” you said, closing the door behind you, “I’m in need of some assistance.”

“Yes madam, how may- how may I be of service?” He choked, having to clear his throat mid-sentence.

You moved closer hips swaying as you did, God, this was going to be fun. You hand grazed his cheek, while maintaining eye contact with your other hand wrapped around his tie. You leaned in closer and as he closed his eyes you yanked his tie so his head slammed into his desk.

“What the fuck?” He stammered.

You pulled out your revolver with a cheeky smile.

“Don’t ask where I was hiding this, it will only make you blush harder,” You smiled.

Before you could pull the trigger, he somehow managed to snatch the gun out of your hand, and all while landing a solid punch in the jaw. You rubbed it slightly, surprise and pain evident on your face.

“Who are you working for? Russia? Scotland Yard?” He shouted, the gun now pointed in your face.

Shit, you thought to yourself, maybe you shouldn’t have been so cocky. If you survived you would definitely have to hear about this from Five. You raised your hands up, knowing when you’re beat.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been pistol-whipped, but wow did it hurt. When you came too you noticed your wrist was bound to his desk.

“Sorry sweetheart, but I can’t have you running your mouth to your superiors. Or having them find what’s in this office,” he said in a nervous tone.

You watched in horror as he dosed the room I’m alcohol and dropped a single match. You screamed and yanked against the desk, trying desperately to get free before the flames reached you.

Five was now definitely worried, you were taking too long. He knew you liked to mess around but it never took you this long to finish a job. He checked his watch hastily and tapped his foot. Looking up to the window he saw thick black smoke, he felt the breath being sucked right out of his lungs. You were the one constant in his life since the apocalypse and he couldn’t lose you.

Suddenly he heard the window break, he looked to see a rather large book falling from the sky. You leaned out coughing and gasping for fresh air. The pair of you locked eyes and it felt like Five could breathe again.

“The target got away, I’m not gonna make it out in time! See if you can catch him” You yelled hoarsely.

“Not a chance, I’m not leaving while you’re still in there,” He yelled back.

“Five, believe it or not, but I’m not indestructible, my adrenaline will run out. If the fire doesn’t kill me, falling from the fire escape definitely will. You have to go,” You pleaded.

He had to think of something quick. Eyeing his surroundings, there was only one thing he could think of.

“Jump!”

“Are you crazy?! I just said the fall would kill me!”

“Just jump damn it, I’ll catch you.”

You climbed onto the ledge of the fire escape, the blood dripping from your nose and the burn on your hand was excruciating. This confirmed your theory that you would never make it down on your own. You looked at Five and he gave you a hopeful thumbs up. You rolled your eyes and took a deep breath- here goes nothing. Just as you jumped Five blinked to the second tier of the fire escape and caught you as you fell past, just like he promised. You both yelled as that was an incredibly stupid plan, but at least you were both alive and out of immediate danger.

“See, I told you I’d catch you,” He whispered in your ear while pulling you close to his chest.

“Thank you for not killing me,” You sighed in relief.

“I’ll always be there to catch you when you fall (Y/n), that’s what partners do,” Five told you.

Partners. Maybe Five was starting to see you as more than just a business partner, and maybe so were you. You’re breathing hitched at the thought. You always had each other’s backs, what made this any different. Before you could get lost any further in his words you cleared your throat.

“Come on, we have to find that guy before the commission has our heads instead,” You said with a small wince.

“Agreed, but then you’ll let me patch you up,” He stated.

“Of course, partner.”

There was definitely something new between the pair. A feeling that hadn't quite been there before. Maybe not today, but one day soon- perhaps it would blossom into something greater.

#number five #five x reader #five hargreeves #number five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #aidan gallagher #The Umbrella Academy #tua #five #number five x you #five x you #five x y/n #number 5

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today-only-happens-once · 6 years

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Forever

Title: Forever

Word count: 2762

Summary: Virgil has less than a year left in the foster system and then he’s gone. But Patton has a question for him. Human!AU. Paternal Moxiety, Romantic Logicality in the background, familial LAMP/CALM

Warnings: foster care (and perhaps some inaccuracies: my sincerest apologies for those); a little bit of angst but a whole lot of fluff.

A/N: This is easily the fluffiest Sanders Sides fic I’ve written? By a wide margin. Not nearly as dark or deep as most of my other fics. I hope you all don’t mind too much. It’s also shorter than most of my other ones. Editing done by yours truly, so all mistakes are mine.

Edit: If the text looks funky, I’ve been trying to fix it. It seems to be caused by the “read more” addition. So if you click on the link, I think the weirdness goes away? I can’t figure out how to fix it without having that cut there, and its too long for me to not put a cut. Sorry, everyone!

Tags: @helloisthisusernametaken, @ren-allen, @lizaelsparrow, @princelogical, @random-pianist, @ravenclawicecream, @erlenmeyertrash, @milomeepit, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @rileyfirstname, @pinkeasteregg, @sassy-in-glasses, @vigilantvirgil, @generalfandomfabulousness, @lacrimosathedark, @thepoolofthedead, @monikastec, and @randomslasher (it’s familial moxiety, so I thought I might tag you! Hope you don’t mind too much! ^u^)

…

Virgil sighs and runs a hand over his eyes, leaning back in his chair and staring out the window of his bedroom. Evanescence plays quietly from his computer. A pre-calculus textbook rests open on the desk, with pencil scratches in the notebook beside it parroting the information.

This is the sixth bedroom window he has stared out of in his short 16-almost-17 years.

A school bus drives down the suburban street and stops at the corner. Late afternoon sun pours in through the glass and leaves squares of light on the beige carpet. He had a few posters up—Dear Evan Hansen and My Chemical Romance specifically—but there wasn’t much in the way of decoration. He didn’t often keep much of what he did acquire. He had a picture frame on his desk of the night that his host family had tried to help Roman—their kid, only a few months older than Virgil was—with the waltz from when the high school was doing Cinderella. Patton has his hand on Logan’s shoulder, blushing and grinning. Logan looks almost too serious, like he’s trying to hide his real reaction, with his arm placed gingerly on his husband’s waist. Roman is face-palming in the background.

Virgil had quietly and quickly snapped the image on his phone before any of them noticed. He’d only been with them for about year and a half, but there was something safe and familiar about it in a way Virgil had never—ever—felt before.

His attention is caught when he hears a knock on the door.

Virgil straightens up suddenly, setting the frame face-down and grabbing his pencil. He coughs. “Uh, come in.”

The door opens slowly, and Virgil sees Patton poke his head around the corner. “Hey, kiddo,” he says with a smile. There’s something off about it, though. Nervous, almost.

Virgil cocks an eyebrow. “Hi…” he says slowly.

Patton quietly closes the door behind him. “Working hard on that homework, huh?”

“Um, I guess.” Virgil glances down at his notebook. If he was being honest, he’d been struggling for the past hour. Maybe he could ask Logan for some help again…

Patton nods absently, glancing around the room. Virgil feels a knot of worry pull at his stomach.

As irrational as he tried to tell himself it was, Virgil couldn’t help but wonder suddenly if this was it. If Patton and Logan were finally going to tell him that it just wasn’t working out. A part of him always wondered this whenever one of them tried to talk to him unexpectedly or seemed to behave strangely. Maybe they’d finally decided that they wanted to get back to their normal lives. They already had their son Roman, after all. Things had been going so well, Virgil thought.

But maybe that was exactly the problem; Virgil tended to think things were finally good just before the rug would get pulled out from under his feet…

“Kiddo?”

Virgil blinks and tries to force a smile. “Sorry. Zoned out.”

Patton tilts his head. “Something on your mind, Virge?”

“Is something on yours?”

Patton glances away. “Well, actually,” he says, and Virgil feels his stomach sink. “Do you have a minute, kiddo?”

That was the third time he’d used ‘kiddo’ since coming into Virgil’s room. The teen couldn’t help but feel like that had to be a bad sign. “Uh, yeah. I guess.” His stomach squirms uncomfortably. Here it comes.

Patton crosses the room and sits on the corner of his bed closest to Virgil. The teen swallows and swivels his chair over to face him. Patton has his hands folded in his lap. He tries to smile.

Virgil had always felt like Patton radiated brightness and hope—something that helped the transition to their home more than he’d ever admit aloud—but there’s something distinctly off about him now. Virgil can’t place it.

“Honey, Logan and I have been talking. He wanted to be here, but he thought it was better if… for now, it was just one of us.”

Virgil blows out a slow breath and clenches his jaw against the emotions churning his stomach. He averts his gaze as Patton continues softly.

“You’ve been living with us for about a year and a half now. When you came to us, you’d already been to four other homes and six other schools. And when Logan and I first met you, I knew I’d never be able to fully understand what you’ve gone through. But I wanted to try, because I could tell right away that you were such a passionate and wonderful kid even if you were a bit quiet at first.”

The lump in Virgil’s throat hardens. His eyes burn.

Patton shifts forward a bit but Virgil can’t bring himself to meet his eyes. Patton reaches a hand out as if to touch him before stopping and pulling his hand back. Virgil winces internally.

“And over the past year…” Patton continues. He laughs softly, but Virgil can hear the tears just below its surface. “God, kiddo, it’s been nothing less than an absolute joy to have you here. I still remember the first time I saw you laugh. You had been with us almost a month. I cracked a typical dad joke, and for the briefest moment… your whole face lit up.” There’s a pause. “I knew then that I never wanted that look to leave your face.”

Virgil glances up. The corner of Patton’s mouth is curls up in a soft smile. His eyes are shining. “I remember that,” he admits softly. He didn’t remember the specifics of the joke so much as how much joy lit up Patton’s face after he delivered the punch line, and Logan’s loud groan that immediately followed it.

Patton smiles a little more. “I remember the first time Roman convinced you to get involved in theatre.”

Virgil shrugs, but the memory tightens something in his chest. “I just did it to get him to shut up about it.”

“Sure, for that first one,” Patton says with a knowing look. “And then you helped with the set for Into the Woods and it only took two more shows before they put you in charge of set design. The work you did was beautiful, Virge. Every time. Roman bragged about it to pretty much everyone who would listen.”

Virgil scratches the back of his neck, hoping Patton didn’t notice the blush he could feel heating his cheeks. “I mean…”

Patton smiles. “The first time you asked Logan for help with your homework completely made his night, you know.”

“What?” Virgil shakes his head.

Logan’s a high school science teacher. Virgil had been almost certain he’d been pestering him with his questions—the teen highly doubted that a teacher coming home from work enjoyed doing more teaching when he could be relaxing—but he’d had a big exam the next day and was confused. So when Logan asked how the homework was going, Virgil figured maybe being honest wouldn’t be such a bad call this time. He could at least know that Logan would know the answers, right?

Patton nods. “I mean it. You two spent almost three hours going over chemistry. When Logan came upstairs after you went to bed, Virge, you know what he said to me?”

Wordlessly, Virgil shakes his head.

“He said how grateful he was that you trusted him enough to ask for help. He knew how hard that had been for you. And that he actually had a lot of fun helping you study.” Patton pauses. Virgil can feel his gaze on him. “He also said how incredibly bright you are, and how you’ve never really given yourself enough credit.”

The teen looks up, startled and disbelieving. “He…” His voice catches briefly in his throat and Virgil coughs to cover it up. “He said that?”

“He did. And he really meant it, Virgil.”

Virgil shakes his head again and looks out the window. A small group of kids shout at each other as they ride their bikes down the street. He didn’t understand. Why was Patton bringing all of this up now? Was he just setting up for a bigger fall? Was he then going to start talking about all of the times Virgil had screwed up?

He still remembers the first time they fought. Virgil had come home late, almost an hour after curfew. He hadn’t expected them to still be awake—nobody else had ever waited up for him—but when he walked through the door, Patton was on his feet and Logan was calmly sitting on the couch. Both of them had waited up, and both were upset with him for being late. Virgil had said something about getting off his case. He was home now, anyway. And besides, he wasn’t even their kid so what did it matter? (He hadn’t meant it—not really. But he’d never had someone before who cared when he didn’t show up on time.)

He’ll never forget the look on Patton’s face after the words slipped out of his mouth. Or Logan’s quiet gaze as he suggested they all get some sleep and talk about it again in the morning.

“Um,” Virgil says, his voice tight. “This trip down memory lane is great and all, but… why bring this all up now?”

Patton takes in a deep breath. “Well, Logan and I have a question we’d like to ask you.”

Virgil looks at his forgotten textbook, unseeing. He glances at his hands. Anywhere but at Patton. It was nice while it lasted. Virgil was almost 17 anyway. Just over a year left in the system. What was one more move, right? “Okay.”

“Virgil,” Patton says softly, “Would you like to be adopted?”

He freezes. His thoughts trip over themselves in stammering fragments. For a moment, he can’t form a coherent thought let alone get any words to come out of his mouth.

“Kiddo?” Patton asks after a moment, tilting his head. Worry and nervousness saturates his voice.

“I…” Would you like to be adopted? Patton’s question echoes in his mind over and over again.

Even though he isn’t looking at him, Virgil can hear in his voice the way Patton’s face falls. “We don’t want to pressure you. That’s why Logan thought it was better if it was just me. If you don’t want to be adopted, that’s okay. You can tell me, honey.”

Virgil opens his mouth, then closes it. He tries again. “I… why?” Internally, he winces. That’s not exactly what he’d meant to say.

Patton is quiet for a moment. Virgil’s gaze rises to meet his, but Patton looks down at his hands. “You’re one us, Virgil. We all love you, and… we want you to be officially part of our family. But… if that’s not what you want, that’s okay.”

Virgil’s brow pulls together in confusion. “I… I’ve got just over a year in the system. The adopting process takes months. I…” He feels like his heart is about to burst out of his chest. Every part of him is shouting at him to just say yes, but he needs to know that Patton and Logan and Roman all know exactly what they’re getting themselves into. Was he really worth that much effort?

Patton looks confused, and maybe a little hurt. “We know that, kiddo.”

Virgil shakes his head. “Are… are you both sure? I mean, in a year I’ll be out of your hair. And that’s a whole process, and…”

“Family is forever, kiddo. It doesn’t end when you turn 18 unless you want it to,” he replies, at once both soft and firm. He looks at Virgil again. There is something so sincere and earnest and hopeful in his eyes that Virgil feels his own start to burn with tears.

“I’m…” Virgil takes in a shaking breath. His vision blurs and he quickly brushes the back of his hand across his eyes.

“It’s okay, Virgil,” Patton tells him softly and gently. “Do you want some time to think about it?”

“N-No!” Virgil suddenly blurts out as Patton stands. “I… I’m sorry. I know my answer.”

Patton slowly lowers himself back down on the edge of the bed. He takes in a deep steadying breath as if steeling himself, and nods. “Are you sure?”

Virgil’s hands are shaking and he laughs, breathy and wet. “Yeah. I… Yes. My answer is yes.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Virgil can feel the tears still pressing at the back of his eyes when he finally looks back up at Patton across from him. Patton’s eyes are wide. “You’re positive, Virgil?”

“Yes, Dad.”

The name slips off Virgil’s tongue. He’d never called Patton ‘dad’ before. He’d thought about it, but he wasn’t sure how it would come across. He’d only been here for about eighteen months. And he’d never called anyone the term before. But it feels… right.

Patton’s breath catches, his eyes suddenly shining with tears. “Virge… did you just say…”

Virgil ducks his head. “Sorry, was that weird? I-it just… slipped out, but if you don’t want—“

Patton cuts him off by grabbing for him and pulling him suddenly out of the chair and into a hug. “No, kiddo, it’s… great,” he says emphatically. Virgil, startled by the suddenness of the contact, freezes for a moment before relaxing into the hug. He feels Patton give him a gentle, reassuring squeeze before pulling back. His smile lights up his entire face.

Virgil opens his mouth to say something, brushing the sleeve of his hoodie across his eyes, when the door swings open. Roman trips and stumbles into the room, looking embarrassed and flustered.

“O-Oh. Uh,” Roman stammers, scratching the back of his head.

“Roman,” Patton chides lightly, letting his arms fall from Virgil’s shoulders. “It’s not nice to eavesdrop.”

Roman’s face flushes and Virgil barely hides a laugh.

He’s so deliriously happy. He hasn’t felt this way in a very, very long time.

Roman ducks his head. “Sorry, Padrè.” He casts a sheepish look at Virgil. “Sorry, Virge. I just…” He bites his lip and for a split second, Virgil feels worry tighten in his stomach. Did they not ask Roman how he felt? Did Roman not want him in the family?

But then Roman grins. “I just got really excited, okay? You guys asked me about this weeks ago. I know I’m an excellent actor, I can keep a secret with the best of them, but c’mon. It’s about time you asked him.” His gaze swivels over to Virgil. “You said yes, right?”

Virgil smiles a little and scratches the back of his head. “Y-yeah.”

“Excellent. I was thinking, for the party, we could—“

“Calm down, Roman,” says a new but familiar voice. Logan steps into the doorway, leaning against the frame. When he glances at Virgil, he smiles wider than Virgil can ever remember seeing from him. “I am not sure that Virgil wants a party. Although if he does, this is certainly cause enough for celebration.” There’s something in his eyes—something twinkling, warm, and happy—that Virgil can’t quite name.

“Oh, Paramorose never wants to--“

“Roman,” Logan sighs.

Roman dramatically throws his hands up. “What? Now that we’re going to be officially related, I gotta up my nick-name game.”

Virgil lifts a shoulder. “Bring it on, Fiyer-no,” he says with a forced nonchalance even though hearing Roman say officially related rings in his head.

“I’ve got a million of them, Sweeney Toddler,” Roman rejoins lightly.

Virgil can’t help it. He smiles a little. Logan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, but he’s fighting back a smile. Patton laughs and wraps an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in. Virgil blinks when he feels Patton lean his cheek on the top of Virgil’s head.

“Welcome to the family, kiddo,” he says softly.

…

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #platonic moxiety #familial moxiety #sanders sides fluff #moxiety fluff #this is so fluffy and its such a change of pace from my previous stuff #i hope you all don't mind too much yikes #fluff #with a tiny dash of angst because i can't help myself #ack i hope this is okay #okay ill stop rambling in the tags now

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