Number Five Imagines

Little Ballerina

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Summary: Allison has tickets for the ballet, Five is not interested, but a ballerina changes his mind.

A/N: This was a request from a nice person from tumblr

Warnings: none

It was a Thursday evening when Allison proudly announced at dinner that she had something special planned for the entire Umbrella Academy family.

"Ballet," she said, with a bright, excited smile. "I got us all tickets to Giselle. It's supposed to be breathtaking."

Klaus immediately cheered. "Yes! Drama, heartbreak, dramatic leaps in tights—I am in!"

Luther nodded enthusiastically. "Sounds great. Haven't been to the ballet since... ever."

Diego groaned. "Do we have to?"

Allison shot him a look. "It's family bonding, Diego."

Everyone turned toward Five, who was already shaking his head.

"No. Absolutely not. I'm not spending two and a half hours watching people leap around in tutus. I'd rather be waterboarded with lukewarm coffee."

Allison narrowed her eyes and leaned in with a dangerous smile. "I heard a rumor..."

Five glared. "You wouldn't."

She raised her brows.

"I hate you," he muttered.

"Love you too. See you Saturday. Don't be late."

—

The night of the ballet, Five sulked the entire ride to the theater, dressed in his signature black suit—not because he wanted to look nice, but because it was the only formal thing he owned. The family found their seats in a grand velvet-lined box, and Five immediately slouched into his chair, arms crossed.

"This is gonna be torture," he muttered to Viktor, who just smiled politely.

Then the lights dimmed. The orchestra began.

Five sighed audibly.

And then... she appeared.

She glided across the stage with the grace of falling snow, her every movement precise, poised, and utterly mesmerizing. Dressed in soft white, the ballerina seemed to float instead of move. Five leaned forward in his seat, brows furrowed—not in irritation, but something else.

"Who is that?" he whispered.

Allison, sitting beside him, smiled knowingly. "That's Y/n. She's the lead ballerina. And a friend of mine."

Five didn't respond. His eyes were fixed on her as if time had slowed. He watched the way she turned, leaped, and told an entire story without speaking a single word. There was something hauntingly beautiful in her performance—an emotional vulnerability that cut straight through him.

When the final curtain fell and the theater erupted into applause, Five was one of the first to stand. He clapped—awkwardly, like a man not used to expressing appreciation. Allison stared at him, amused.

"Still wish you'd stayed home?" she asked.

"Shut up," Five muttered.

—

Backstage, Allison pulled some strings and led her siblings through the maze of corridors. Five stayed back at first, suddenly unsure why he was even tagging along. It wasn't like he cared... right?

Then Y/n came around the corner, her hair pulled back in a loose bun, her stage makeup just barely faded, her smile soft and tired.

"Allison!" she greeted.

They hugged tightly. "Y/n, you were amazing."

"Thank you. My legs feel like jelly."

"Let me introduce you to some people." Allison turned to her siblings, listing names, but when she got to Five, she paused. "And this is Five. My time-traveling, perpetually grumpy brother."

Y/n laughed. "The Five?"

He blinked. "People know me?"

"Allison talks about you all the time."

"Only the bad stuff, I hope."

Y/n smiled. "Mostly."

Five stared at her. "You were... incredible."

Her smile widened a little. "Thank you."

There was a beat of silence, something electric hanging between them. Five cleared his throat.

"I mean, I didn't want to come. Ballet isn't really my thing. But you... you made it worth it."

Y/n tilted her head slightly. "That might be the most awkward compliment I've ever received."

"I'm awkward," Five said with a shrug. "It's part of the package."

Allison cut in, trying not to grin. "Y/n, he's single."

Y/n laughed. "I can see why."

Five shot her a look. "I'm leaving now."

"No you're not," Allison said sweetly, grabbing his sleeve. "Because i gave her your number."

Five looked like he might teleport out of sheer embarrassment. But then Y/n reached out and gently touched his arm.

"Hey," she said softly, "if you'd like to see another performance sometime... let me know."

Five paused, stunned for a moment. Then—just barely—he smiled. "Yeah. I'd like that."

—

That night, as they drove home, the family couldn't stop teasing him.

"Do we have to start calling you 'Romeo' now?" Klaus asked, fanning himself with a playbill.

"You blushed," Diego added. "You. You don't blush."

Five stared out the window, hiding a rare smile. "Shut up. All of you."

From the backseat, Allison leaned over and whispered, "You're welcome."