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rae-gar-targaryen · 4 years

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alight with the lights out | diego hargreeves x reader [tua]

A/N: Thank you for all of your interest after I posted the teaser! It was VERY surprising and humbling; I’ve NEVER had so many people ask for a tag before. I only ask that if you asked for a tag, you interact with this fic SOMEHOW. And go find another story you love and REBLOG IT! LET THAT WRITER KNOW YOU LOVE THEM!

I’ll be honest, I’m very nervous about this one. I’m not sure if it turned out as good on paper as it did in my head. Please let me know what you liked and what you didn’t!

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x vigilante, powered!Reader; this one may read a bit more like an OC because I’ve given the reader backstory, powers. She’s (you’re) a vigilante who regularly runs into Diego. I keep the physical description vague, so I hope you can still imagine yourself!

Warnings: Language; who doesn’t love getting a little sweary? Violence, fighting, references to a shitty childhood, and separately, implied sexual assault (nothing graphic, I promise); angst and angsty dialogue; SMUT-- 18+ ONLY PLEASE; lots of cocktease dialogue, fingering, pierced nipples (the reader’s not Diego’s-- sorry), biting, rough sex, choking. Romance is its own warning. Fluff.

Word Count: 12.1k of sexy, self-righteous vigilantism, half-baked metaphor and of course, at least one literary reference.

Summary: Diego Hargreeves, aka The Kraken, is secure about few things in life; one of those things being his vigilantism. He’s a hero. Until he meets a fighter who shares the same hobby, albeit with different methodologies. Diego isn’t quite as certain about her, but her mysterious abilities make him think he and his siblings aren’t the only ones in this world with power. If only she and Diego could just stay out of each others’ hair. It’s a good, old-fashioned ENEMIES TO LOVERS, lads!

Link to my playlist of songs that inspired this fic: here

NOT MY GIF

----

You wouldn't hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. That was rule number one. Hell, if you could get away with it at all, you wouldn’t hurt anyone.

But Mr. Adler hated children. And he had made it his mission to not understand you. To regard you with the utmost disdain. And unfortunately for you, Mr. Adler had married your mother when you were six years old.

You had never known another father. Your mother refused to talk about the circumstances of your birth, or of the man who had supposedly been responsible. The lack of identity loomed like a large question mark over certain portions of your life.

And Mr. Adler, that loud, controlling lout, was not about to fill that void.

When you were in elementary school, you began to feel like you were different from the other children. Watching them carry about their days with their steel-pressed pop culture lunch boxes and not a care in the world. While you sensed your music teacher’s sadness when her cat had died. You could feel every anxiety that passed through your classmates on the day of a spelling test. You didn’t know why you could feel these things. You just could.

Prominently above them all, you could feel Mr. Adler’s hatred for you, like a thick, toxic wall every time you passed through your front door and into what was supposed to be your sanctuary.

He shouted at you for inane things, like the pantry door being left open, or the fact that your mother was tired after cooking dinner, insisting you never did enough to help. As a child of eight, what did he expect you to do? You kept your room clean, cleared and set the table, helped your mom water the plants in her garden. What more could Adler want from you?

Still, Mr. Adler’s hate for you colored your every interaction with him, the world you saw him through tinged with an orange-red lens of rage.

You had never tried expanding upon your grasp of others’ feelings until you had witnessed a boy in your class push your pigtailed classmate, Annabelle, down on the playground. Anna’s shock, fear and sadness had bitten into you from the other side of the sandbox like an unwelcome spider bite, sudden and itchy.

It didn’t sit right with you. To you, how was this boy any different from Adler? Reigning terror over someone else just because he thought he could. You’d recognize that red-orange tinge in another person anywhere.

You stood, marching over to the boy, gripping his wrist firmly in your stubby, grubby fingers. Quick as a flash, you were met with every emotion this boy had ever felt -- annoyance at Anna (she wouldn’t share her toys. How selfish, the boy had thought); anger (how dare you grab him!); and finally, prominently, fear.

Fear looked different for everyone, you had noticed. For some, like this boy, it was an ugly green, so like jealousy. For others, like Adler when he’d been drinking, it was an inky black you could drown in. Fear was clearly the strongest. You knew that now.

You gripped the boy’s fear in your own mind, pushing it to the forefront until he began to cry, his eyes welling with the sudden fear he couldn’t understand.

“You won’t do that again,” you said. Turning to Anna, you offered a hand to help her up, but she just shook her head, pigtails flying, and scampered away from you.

Your teachers were clearly afraid of you after that. Could sense that something wasn’t right. Anna? You thought she’d be grateful ... but the chilly pale yellow of her fear, and everyone else’s, followed you wherever you went.

Fine, you thought. If they wouldn’t be grateful for what you could do, you may as well help yourself.

From then on, you exploited your teachers’ happiness -- pop quizzes became less frequent. Everytime they wanted to scold you for incomplete homework, they were left grasping at straws and with the daze of an emotion they couldn’t name.

Adler hated you for it.

“I knew there was something wrong with you,” he sneered over your mother’s weeping objections. “I don’t know what it is, but I know there’s something.”

Once you reached 18, you left for the neighboring bustling metropolis and didn’t look back. The world was full of people like Adler, like the boy in the sandbox, like your teachers, who tried to use their own fear to feed their hate, to exploit others. To exercise false power over them.

Well, you wouldn’t have it. If it meant a few of those assholes got hurt, well, so be it.

You lived like that for years. Until --

---

"I hope you choke on it," you hissed, watching the smoky black tendrils slither their way around the man, constricting -- bringing him to his knees, hacking and gasping. "I see your fear, I feel it all. You deserve this, you know you do," you lectured, advancing toward the man, your hands raised.

He was seconds away, you knew it-- and then one more scumbag would be off the streets for good ...

Things were going your way, you were in your favorite position in an altercation-- you know, the one where you had the upper hand? Everything was coming up you, until--

Your ears were met with a whizzing noise mere seconds before a sharp, shiny something nicked your cheek and lodged into the wooden beam just past you.

Your gaze left the piteous man before you long enough to see what looked like a small, but dangerously sharp, knife embedded in the beam. You reached up and plucked it from its resting place, spinning it in your palm before catching the hilt in a clutching grip. You turned to see where it had come from, your eyes catching a dark blur flipping from the fire escape of the opposite building, before said blur landed at your feet.

Standing at his full height, the blur-- no, the Kraken himself-- towered above you.

You had to admit, the stories didn't do him justice. Standing before you in head-to-toe black and a harness replete with shimmering, twinkling edges and danger, you could've sworn he was your knight in shining leather. His cropped hair and facial scars gave him the air that he was every bit as sharp and deadly as the many blades that adorned his body. His oilslick eyes so like mirthless pits of danger, daring to suck you beneath their surface. He was, in a word, imposing.

Regarding you from behind his Venetian domino mask, he spoke, "Miss I'm gonna need you to drop the knife and let this man go."

You snorted.

"You're joking, right?" Not giving him a chance to respond, you chuckled as you swung at him with the hand still holding what you now knew to be his blade.

You'd give credit where it was due, Diego Hargreeves, aka Number Two, aka the Kraken, was every bit as fast as they'd said. In this regard, the stories and Umbrella Academy-related media hadn't been wrong.

Diego dodged your swing, bending his body back before twirling around to strike at your torso, like a snake, with his heavy, hammered fist.

The hit knocked the wind out of you, effectively breaking your concentration, and, devastatingly, your connection with the previously fear-choked man cowering in the alley behind you. As you recovered from Diego's hit and swung around to check your quarry, you could only watch as he shook himself from your fear-induced trance.

He scraped and scrabbled to get up off his knees as Diego shouted at him to "Go, just get out of here!"

You snarled and swung a well-aimed high kick at Diego's head, connecting with just enough of his jaw to drop him. As soon as your proverbial window opened, you turned from Diego to run after the man. But even grounded from a blow, Diego was formidable. He shot his arm out and snagged your ankle, yanking you to the ground.

The gritty pavement scraped your palms as you attempted to catch yourself on your way down, growling as you glanced up to see that loathsome cockroach of a man slip out of the alley, huffing as his bloated legs carried himself far away from you.

You tossed a glance over your shoulder to see Diego righting himself as he stood up, looking down at you before shrugging, offering you his hand.

"Not a chance," you scoffed, knocking his hand away. You rolled slightly back, arched up, and used your hands to help you spring as you lept to your feet in one smooth movement. You landed with a thud of your boots, your feet spread apart, and arms raised in a boxer's stance.

Diego had the decency to look slightly surprised at your obviously-dangerous athleticism. He shook himself slightly as he regarded you.

Besides, he thought, taking in your stature, it's not as though you were any match for him. No way.

"Why would you get in my way, Umbrella douche?" You bit out harshly, glaring daggers at the knife-wielding Kraken.

"Come on, hot stuff," Diego shrugged. "If you know who I am, you gotta know it's not like I can just let you mug that man with … well, whatever you were doing to him." What he had seen you do in the alley seemed to be catching up with him as he cocked his head and queried, "What exactly were you doing to him, by the way? I mean, other than hurting a civilian?"

"A civilian?" You spat. "You don't know what you're talking about, do-gooder. If you knew what he was, you wouldn't be defending him so staunchly."

“And what was he?” Diego pressed.

“That dickless fuckhead would-be-rapist isn’t worth the shit on your shoe,” you snarled. “And you let him get away. Nice job, hero,” you sing-songed the last word mockingly, taking advantage of Diego’s lowered guard to level a swinging hit to his nose.

Your punch landed with a satisfying crack, Diego stumbling back, shaking his head.

“What in the ever-loving FUCK is wrong with you, lady?” Diego shouted.

“Take your hits like a big boy. Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of ‘Big Deal?’ ” you asked, advancing toward Diego, fists raised.

“Honey, my reputation precedes me for a reason,” Diego quipped back, blocking your next swing and making one of his own toward your gut.

The two of you sparred in the alleyway, whirling and spinning in a very violent dance between two unwilling partners -- Diego, clearly pulling his punches, while you were obviously preoccupied with your rage at your escaped quarry.

Diego flipped and spun and swung his fists with a speed that bordered on unnatural. His jabs and kicks annoyingly landed, as you were really only able to block just about every other hit. Fuck him for being so fast.

So it was true, you thought, the superpower hype was real. Well, two could play that game.

At Diego’s next hit, you caught his fist, allowing the contact to create the connection you needed, feeling for Diego and any underlying emotion that would be his undoing, before latching onto your favorite-- past the overstuffed confidence, you tasted simmering rage. Beyond that? A tiny prickle of … was that??…Ah, yes, the stinging, burns-so-good zip of lust... File that one away for later … and beneath it all lay Diego’s stammering, stuttering, suffocating fear.

You dug your proverbial claws into it once you found it, bringing it to the surface, manifesting it into your signature smoky tendrils.

Drag them down with their own fear.

Diego’s eyes widened as he looked down to see his legs wrapped in what looked like snakes. Suddenly, his worst memories of fearful days under his father’s tyrannical reign were the only things in his brain. The shouting proclamation his own inadequacies in his father’s too-posh voice pounded within his skull. It was all he could think about -- Your presence before him seemed to dwindle, he couldn’t focus on you, try as he might-- when he was overcome with the feelings of every bad memory he had ever suffered through bearing down on him like the crushing weight of the ocean, pulling him under with the riptide of his own panic and inadequacies.

What the fuck was this shit?

He pushed through his sudden indifference toward you to regard you, the woman stood before him. Diego’s fist clenched as he took in your own grip clutching around his wrist. Your eyes were closed as your face was screwed up in concentration.

Repulsive. You were repulsive, he suddenly thought. How could he have cared so much about hurting you when his own terror and agitation sat heavy on his tongue, like ugly curdled cream?

But he hadn’t always felt this way-- not his usual modus operandi, was it? So what was this? Was this-- you?? Was this what you had done to that man?

Diego began to dredge himself through his own agitation, past his father’s lilting abuse… through the mire of never-quite-being-enough against Luther... dragging his proverbial feet through a bog of his own self-hatred. Just long enough to wrench his wrist from your grip, grabbing you by the shoulders and spinning around, slamming you probably a little too hard into the wall behind him. Your eyes snapped open as your head made a minor thwack off the alleyway-- you had just enough time to tilt your head to the left as Diego brought one of his knives down, driving it into the wall a sliver from the space your face had previously occupied.

Diego bore his weight on his toes, leaning his imposing height into and over you, panting and snorting heavily through his nose. You looked at his eyes behind his mask-- hardened flints of pissed-off-superhero glared back at you.

“W-wh-What the F-f-UCK was that?” Diego spit, lip curling over his teeth in a gruesome snarl.

A fleeting flicker of shame passed through you. He hadn’t really done anything to deserve that, had he? Before you shook yourself out of it-- No! He let that rat-faced motherfucker get away!

You fixed your face into an impassive mask of your own before you chirped, annoyingly, “What was what?”

Diego chuckled mirthlessly, shaking his head. “Nuh-uh. How did you do that?” Diego pressed, leaning even closer to you, if that were possible.

“Do what?” you chimed innocently, tilting your chin up, eyes meeting Diego’s from beneath your lashes. Maintaining your feigned ignorance.

“Don’t do that,” Diego snarled. “Don’t play dumb. I think we both know at this point-- you’re alot of things, and dumb isn’t one of them.”

“You’d know all about playing dumb, wouldn’t you, pretty boy? Or for you, is it not really playing?” You reached up and ran a finger along his sharp jaw before tweaking his chin and dropping your hand back to your side. You sighed at Diego’s stone face. Honestly, it was so boring when they didn’t bite back.

“I don’t know what to tell you, cutie pie. I can’t help it. People are just drawn to me,” you quirked an eyebrow. “Or repulsed by me. I really haven’t decided.” You fluttered your eyelashes at him, ever the pretty picture.

Diego leaned further into you, pressing your back further and further into the wall. All the while, his leather-gloved grip creaked around the handle of the knife he’d plunged into the wall next to your head as he gripped it tighter.

“Huh,” he mused, scoffing at you lightly. “Ya know something, doll? I just don’t fuckin’ buy it.”

“Babe, if you wanted to play bad cop, all you had to do was ask,” you smirked as the stone face slid from his features and gave way to "surprised face."

“Honestly, honey,” you slinked up Diego’s body, propping yourself onto your toes and brushing his lips ever-so-lightly with your own as you spoke into his mouth, “Did you really think you and your reject siblings were the only ones in this whole wide world with a little … taste … of power?” you purred.

Ah, you thought, and there it was.

The warming, zinging hum that your ability recognized as Diego’s lust crept through your fingertips that were currently resting on his chin. You were sure if you took the time to analyze exactly who was feeling what, that this feeling of craving wouldn’t be as one-sided as you’d otherwise have hoped. Diego was, you had to admit, very pretty -- for a man.

The swirling galaxies in his midnight eyes regarded you with confusionangerwant. Had you really just -- kinda kissed him?

You took advantage of Diego’s surprised state to knock his grip from your shoulder and shove -- hard. Diego toppled back, and you took off as fast as your enhanced body would carry you, cutting down the alley and away from your fascinatingly frustrating new rival.

Diego took in your retreating form from his final resting place in the disgusting alley’s concrete. Slamming his fist into the rough-gravel ground, groaning out his frustration and anger.

You were gone.

What were you?

Were you really like him? Like the others?

---

Diego shuffled into Hargreeves Manor, determined to see who else was around. Surely they, or Pogo, would know if there were others like them out there. Had he been the only one to run into one? Was it all a hoax?

As he wandered into the cavernous, but simultaneously stuffy, living room, sure enough-- there was Klaus, sprawled across the couch, arm slung over his face in a restless nap.

“Klaus!” Diego barked, startling the spindly man from his perch on the couch and onto the floor.

Klaus looked balefully up at his brother from his spot on the carpet. “Jeeeesus, Diego, really? What do you want that made that necessary,” Klaus grumbled.

“Have you seen Pogo?”

“I haven’t seen anything but the back of my eyelids for the last several hours, thank you very much,” Klaus replied, “Although, I did have a very good dream about running into an old friend of mine in the grocery store. He was always so convinced he was straight. But I think the rest of my dream calls bullshit.” Klaus chuckled to himself.

“Yeah, whatever, man. I need to talk to Pogo,” Diego stressed, turning to leave the living room.

“Well, wait, wait, wait. What is so important?” Klaus queried, clambering up and lumbering across the room to catch Diego’s arm.

Diego sighed, facing his brother.

“Do you think … Do you think we’re the only ones like us?” He asked.

“Well, there’s no one like you, brother,” Klaus chuckled, taking on a rumbling, Diego-esque mocking tone, “I’m Number Two!” He cackled to himself for a moment before coming back to himself with a sigh. “And honestly, we all know I’m an original. So I’m not sure I take your meaning.”

“I mean… it couldn’t just be the seven of us, right? There’s a lot of other people in the world… it just makes sense others could do things like what we can?” Diego pressed.

Klaus started. He had never seen this look in his brother’s eye before. The unhinged mania of a fight? Sure. Crushing doubt? Obviously. But not this … fierce certainty buried beneath a question. This was new for Diego. He must be serious.

Klaus blinked, regarding his brother, before slowly nodding. “I mean… sure… theoretically, there could be others. But I don’t know any. Why? Did you find someone?”

Diego drew in a breath, unsure of how much he wanted to reveal to Klaus. After all, you were his nemesis. His pain in the ass. His whatever you were.

Diego crossed the room again, back to the couch Klaus had previously occupied, before sitting down in a creak of leather and clink of blades still strapped to his harness. Propping his elbows on his thighs, he placed his head in his hands.

“I don’t know. I think so? I found her while I was out patrolling, and I … I don’t really know how to describe what I saw.”

Klaus placed himself next to his erstwhile sibling, tucking his feet beneath himself as he sat, reaching up to pat Diego on the shoulder.

“There, there, big guy. Just… tell me what happened,” Klaus crooned.

Diego launched into the story of finding you in the alley, choking the man with your smoke without even laying a hand on him. He described to Klaus how the two of you had fought, and how you had called the man a “would-be-rapist” before knocking Diego to the ground and making your getaway.

“Well, she sounds hot.”

“Helpful, Klaus,” Diego deadpanned.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious, sweet Dee?” Klaus chimed at the end of Diego’s story. At his brother’s nonplussed look, Klaus continued. “She’s just like you! She likes to put on her Batman underoos and fight crime,” he chuckled. “Even if she is like… us… she clearly can do something different. But I think the most telling thing is how obviously into her you are.”

Diego sputtered, “Wh-what?? I am not into that … psycho. Whatever she can do, that’s all I want to figure out.”

“The lady doth protest too much,” Klaus sing-songed. “Whatever you say, brother. But I think the only way you’ll really figure it out is if you run into her again. I mean, we know dad had his secrets. If he knew about other powered children, don’t you think the Umbrella Academy would’ve been a lot bigger? The world is a big place. I’m sure there’s more out there, but, um… we just didn’t know about it until now?”

Diego sighed deeply. “Oh, joy,” he muttered. Ignoring the tinge of excitement that passed through him at Klaus’s suggestion he seek you out.

Klaus clapped his hands joyously, cuffing Diego’s shoulder, shaking him.

“A nemesis, Diego! How sexy! How exciting!”

---

Your encounter with one of the Umbrella Academy had left you slightly shaken, to say the least. You were so careful when you went out. No one missed those assholes you took care of. Honestly, you were doing the city a favor.

Patrolling on any given night would yield one or two men who were plotting something less than savory. And all it took was a brush of skin to determine their true intentions.

You sighed angrily, ripping off your bodysuit and stomping across your apartment to your shower, yanking back the curtain and twisting the knob forcefully.

Hot water began to pour from the showerhead, steam filling your bathroom. You regarded your reflection in your bathroom mirror, a distinctly palmlike-bruise adorned your shoulder from where Diego had clutched it, not to mention the scrapes that lined your body from your repeated meetings with the concrete during your sparring.

You met your own eyes in your reflection, regarding yourself as balefulness gave way to venom.

Honestly, that toadlike little nobody had deserved what you were about to do to him. You had watched him from the back of the bar as he had annoyingly pressed his presence onto a poor girl who was just trying to enjoy her drink. Her drink that the toad had slipped something in when he thought she wasn’t looking. He even went so far as to grab her wrist with his stubby little hands. That was the final straw.

You steeled yourself, letting the lustful, rowdy feeling of the other bar patrons that permeated the air like thick smoke take you over. Putting on your best, beguiling smile, you crossed the room and brushed your hand over the man’s bare arm, letting him feel the tingling want that you had absorbed. Simultaneously, you felt everything of his disgusting intent-- the hateful, possessive desire for the girl, the hurt he intended to inflict to trample his own inadequacies and sadness.

Oh, yeah, you were right about this asshole.

He looked up at you, disgusting gaze lingering on you, before forgetting all about his intended prey, pushing back from his barstool and venturing behind you out into the alley.

The rest, as they say, is history. And an annoying vigilante type who had an ass that just wouldn’t quit once encased in black leather just had to rain on your proverbial pain parade.

Diego Hargreeves… Of course you knew who he was. Everyone knew about the Umbrella kids. And you knew the man once-dubbed The Kraken was still doing his best Caped Crusader (sans cape) and kicking ass by night. Annoyingly self-righteous, really, you thought. Choosing ever-so-delicately to ignore the hypocrisy laden in your thought. Is that not, in effect, what you were doing? Albeit with a little more emotional manipulation and bloodshed.

As you thought of Diego, your fingers traced the slim, sharp cut his knife had made in your cheek as it surged past you.

You let the remnants of Diego’s rage that you had felt overtake you, amplified by your own, as you slammed your fist into the small mirror over your sink, letting the shards clatter to the ground around your feet.

Payback was a bitch, and so were you. You didn’t know if Diego Hargreeves was a praying man, but he had better hope to whatever deity would listen that he didn’t run into you again.

You wouldn’t be so kind twice, you told yourself, climbing into your shower and letting the blood and grit from your body swirl down the drain.

---

As luck wouldn’t have it, your gods were decidedly not on your side. And clearly whatever deity you had mentally implored Diego to pray to was on vacation.

Because you ran into that maddeningly beautiful dipshit, several times over the following weeks. He would do his best to bust up your party, stopping you from exacting your special brand of vengeance. You’d exchange a few quips and blows before running off before he could ask you the question you knew was burning in his mind.

You managed to evade prolonged encounters with Diego until about another two weeks later. Too soon, honestly.

Or not soon enough? God, your inner voice was desperate and annoying.

You encountered Diego again while you were propped against the wall of a seedy dive on the other edge of town, assessing each person as they passed. While your power worked best if you could touch, some feelings were perfectly easy to pick up from a distance.

So far, nothing. Just a few gross, horny bikers and depressive barflies. It was a maddeningly slow night. And you doubted you were needed here.

Just as you were about to call it and head to another hotspot, a familiar prickle passed through you. You glanced up, across the street.

Sure enough, on the neighboring rooftop, perched Diego Hargreeves in the flesh, surveying you like some kind of Great Value Nightwing.

You sighed, pushing off the wall and crossing the street. Diego watched as you clambered up the fire escape to meet him on the rooftop.

“Of course you would be here,” you chastised. “Are you fucking following me? I’ve been a good girl. Haven’t killed anyone in a week. I promise!” You held up your hands in mock surrender, coming to stand in front of Diego’s gloriously firm, leather-clad figure.

“If you say so, Princess. Maybe I’m just here for a drink?” Diego cocked his head toward the shitty bar whose entrance you were haunting mere moments ago.

“Doubtful, Underoos. I think…” you trailed off, circling Diego, tapping your finger to your chin in a pondering gesture. “I think you’re babysitting me. Making sure I don’t do your job for you and clean up the streets too well.”

You ceased your vulture-like circling, coming to stand before Diego. His eyes bore into your own, once again partially obscured behind that stupid mask. As if you didn’t know what he looked like without it. Your eyes weren’t deceiving you when you saw Diego’s eyes flash a quick up-down of your body before resuming his stern visage.

Oh good, you thought. You recognized the latent feelings buried beneath Diego’s anger. A new one brushed over you-- confusion… He still hadn’t figured you, or, more than likely, your power, out…

You weren’t left in suspense too long.

“Tell me about what you can do,” Diego pressed, advancing toward you. You took a step back to maintain some distance… best if you can perpetuate some veil of advantage.

“Ah, ah, ah, baby. It doesn’t work like that,” you chided. “You think I’m just going to spill all of my secrets because why? You’re cute? Try again. Ask nicely,” you smirked, pushing your lips into a tantalizing pout.

Diego rolled his eyes. You weren’t going to play fair? Fine, neither was he. Honestly, his fuse was too-fuckin-short for your shit. He wanted answers, even if he had to beat them out of you. Quick as a flash, he strode toward you, jumping into a flip and kicking you down to the ground upon his landing.

You looked up at him, standing over your body as it lay on the gravelled rooftop, bringing your hand up to touch your jaw, where his boot had collided with your face not moments ago.

You grinned widely, savagely, around bloodied teeth and split lips. "So that’s how we’re going to play? Do your worst, Big Deal. I like when it hurts."

With that, you swung your leg at Diego’s, causing him to topple beside you, where you promptly rolled over, coming to straddle his hips, bringing your hands to his wrists, the direct contact allowing you to bring his fear to the forefront.

Just as you were about to choke him with the smoke of his own fear, Diego surged upright, his arms breaking free from the grip of your wrists, his own hands coming to close around your throat. He squeezed insistently, enough to break your concentration-- the smoke dissipating as soon as it had come. With that, he had managed to roll the two of you over, you flat on your back as one of his thighs came to rest between yours.

You gasped, looking up at Diego with fiery shock looming in your eyes.

“Wow,” you rasped, “I told you before-- if you wanted to play bad cop, all you had to do was ask.”

Diego removed one hand from your throat, bringing it to his own head and ripping off his flimsy excuse for a mask. He regarded you with nacreous, tarpit eyes that glowed and glittered with the streetlights, his breath coming in ragged, uneven puffs through his sinfully full lips. His cropped hair was glistening with sweat borne equally from the heat of the night and your encounter.

“Baby, I think you owe me an explanation first,” He pressed, squeezing your throat lightly, free hand pulling a knife from his harness that he spun in his fingers while gazing down at you.

You whined, rolling your hips against where his thigh rested between your legs.

“This would be so much more fun if you’d just do things my way,” you pouted at Diego.

“Maybe I would, if you would bother to tell me what your way is,” Diego retorted.

“I could tell you, or I could show you,” you purred, rolling your hips again. “I’m all about more fun.”

Diego sighed. The familiar buzz of lust radiating from your skin-- or was it his own-- that always seemed to hang over your encounters was pressingly prevalent and it was all he could do to not just give in. He gritted his teeth, and shook his head.

“No. Come on. I know what you’re doing… whatever it is. Just … tell me what it is you can do. Tell me why you’re hurting those people,” he implored.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, using your free hands to knock his grip from your throat and coming to a sitting position, as Diego remained crouched over you.

“All you hero-types. You’re no fun. You want to know what I can do? That pleasant little hum you feel? That’s you. Well, it’s me. But it’s you. I don’t make anyone feel what they don’t already… but I can use it against them. That first night at the bar? That,” you shuddered, “That rat was going to force himself on some poor girl. I could feel his every feeling as he was preying on her. I had to stop it. It’s simple, honeybunch. I do what you do, but better. I’ll make them choke in it, their own fear, their self-hatred, their inadequacy, their lust, I’ll drown them in it, and they’ll thank me for it. Because I’m nothing if not merciful,” you gritted out.

Diego’s mind reeled, jaw slack from your confession. He knew it! You were an empath, an enhanced emotional manipulator. Except you seemed to be able to manifest emotions into something tangible, something harmful.

Suddenly, the weight of your confession seemed to crush Diego, you had exploited every feeling of his during your encounters to gain an upper hand. And he hadn’t truly known about it until now.

You felt the surge of his rage, his disgust, his fear with you before he could say it--

“You c-can’t-- you can’t do that,” Diego said. “Kililng people who haven’t even done anything yet? It’s w-wrong. Y-you’re w-wro-wrong,” He stuttered out, clearly distressed, but advancing even further into your space.

“As opposed to you?” You bit out. “You wait until someone’s already hurting or hurt someone else to do something. How are you any better? Who are you to judge me,” you spit through gritted teeth.

“You’re a killer,” Diego pressed, pushing back from you and coming to stand.

“Sticks and stones. So are you. But I don’t hate you for it,” you snarled, jumping into a standing position, squaring your shoulders before Diego’s imposing form.

“You could always work with me,” Diego offered, “ We could take what you can do and just… re-tool it a bit.”

You ground out a harsh laugh.

“Unlikely, you absolutely patronizing dick. You don’t want anything to do with me other than to change me, control me. You’re just like them.”

With that, you unleashed a slew and flurry of attacks on Diego, swinging your hips around to level a kick at his gut, knocking him to his knees, where your arm was ready to strike a heavy blow against his cheek, your rage fueling the unnatural strength behind the hit.

Diego sprawled against the concrete of the rooftop, half conscious after blows you’d dealt him.

You stood over Diego now, looking down at his prone form.

“I would never want anyone who only means to stifle me. To take me apart until there’s nothing left. Never.” You spit a glob of bloodied saliva at Diego’s feet, leaving him in his semi-conscious, battered state-- the guilt only slightly prickling you.

His fear-- choking on half-gasped words from behind the tremulous task of tripping over his own tongue-- followed you like a stuttering stormcloud. It stung. Knowing that he was afraid of you.

---

Okay. The guilt was more than slight.

All he had wanted to do was help, right?

Years alone with your power, the sting of Adler’s rejection as a child, it all weighed down on you like the crushing magnitude of Atlas. You didn’t really want to hurt him.

You sighed, resolute. You just needed to make sure.

With that, you headed out in the storm. Headed toward Diego.

---

The rain pounded on the walls of the Fighting Lion, plunking heavily like half-hewn nails tossed onto the small window in Diego’s back bedroom. He could hear as it landed on the brick, the wet stone and stormy atmosphere making the air thick with the scent of sagebrush and rain.

A kind of whoosh passed through the room, prompting him to turn from where he was folding his laundry on the bed to see you propped against the door, legs crossed at the ankles, looking every bit as if you belonged.

“Wow, Big Deal. Nice digs,” you said as you sauntered in the room, staring at the case at the foot of the bed that was full of Diego’s knives. “Not what I’d expect coming from a dude who hails from the city’s biggest mansion. But still -- homey.”

Diego ignored the jab about his upbringing in favor of the real question.

“How did you get in here?” He asked, seemingly --and to you, maddeningly-- disinterested in your presence as he continued stacking his paired socks into their rightful place in his bureau.

“Uh, have you seen this place? It’s not exactly rigged with ‘Entrapment’ levels of security,” you snarked, folding your arms across your chest.

“Does that make you a cat burglar? Are you Catherine Zeta-Jones in this scenario?” Diego glanced at you from his socks, cocking a strong eyebrow.

“If you want me to be, sweetie,” you shrugged. “But, uh -- and don’t take this the wrong way, Diego, but you don’t exactly have anything I’d want to steal.”

“Then I’ll amend the question. What are you doing here?” Diego asked, finally turning to fully face you, taking in your form as you stood by his bed. The sight causing a pleasantly-unpleasant little something to prickle across his skin.

No, no, it’s not like that, he chided himself. Besides. You were an absolutely monumental pain in his ass. And his head. And basically every other body part of his you came in contact with. Nope, nope... Don’t think about her body parts “coming into contact” with anything of yours, he scolded.

“Aw, well now, Big Deal. Maybe I just missed you?” You mused.

“Doubtful. Did you come back to kick my ass with your freaky little homicidal chokehold some more?” Diego snapped.

Ouch. Maybe you had gone too far in your last little encounter. After all, wasn't that why you were there? To check on your favorite knife-wielding antagonist? To make sure you hadn't actually hurt him?

But what came out instead was--

"Is there any other kind of chokehold?" You hummed, arching your brow.

Before he could stop himself, Diego retorted, “Based on our last meeting, I think you know there is."

Momentarily stunned into silence, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks at the memory of his hands on your throat, you dropped your arms from where they were crossed at your chest down to your sides, hands flexing nervously. You chuckled.

"Heh. As tempting as that offer is, pretty boy, I only came to make sure I didn't ring your bell too bad."

Diego leaned against his dresser, tilting his head back and looking down his perfect, strong nose at you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I must be going fuckin' deaf. Did you just say you slunk in here with your little kitten tail between your legs to say you were sorry?" Diego snorted, obviously pleased with himself as he saw the obvious fluster cross your face.

Okay, now he was pissing you off. You came here with good will and he sasses you? Two can play at that, as you two so often do...

"You must be fuckin' deaf, dipshit. I didn't say I was here to say I was sorry. I did say I wanted to make sure I didn't kick your sorry ass into oblivion. Which, you're obviously fine, so I'll just be going." You crossed Diego's room, breezing for the door.

Honestly, why did you think this was a good idea? Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Diego caught your arm as you passed him in your hurried attempt at an exit. You gave a half-hearted tug to pull your arm from Diego's grip, surprised to find how firm it was. You turned your head to meet Diego's gaze, throat closing around your sudden nerves. Diego's eyes were molten, boring into you with quizzical questions and low-burning heat. His grip on your arm afforded you an insight into the unique blend that was his confusion and simmering passion.

"What are you doing?" You asked.

"Come on," Diego drawled. "You clearly know what I'm feeling. But I have no idea what you're feeling. You have me at a disadvantage. I don't like it."

"Every time we meet, I have you at a disadvantage," you snarked. At the brief hurt that flashed across Diego's face, you sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I meant what I said when I told you I was coming to check on you … I just--"

You looked down at your feet, the laces in your boots suddenly incredibly interesting to you. Diego's other hand gently gripped your chin, his thumb pressing into its apex, fingers curled beneath your jaw.

"D-don't do that-- keep going. Tell me what you're feeling for once," Diego implored, eyes meeting yours once more, lips ever-so-close to yours. “Please,” he added, softly.

Had your heart been thudding like this the whole time?? Was your jacket always this hot? All you could hear was the pounding sheet of rain, pressing itself into your brain, growing fuzzier. Diego's proximity to your person was decidedly distracting. Wholeheartedly overwhelming.

Could he really not tell what you were thinking? You were certain at this point it must be written all over your face. Were you not being obvious?? Your burning ardor for him creeping through every inch of your person, drowning your intentions and better sensibilities in anything and everything Diego Hargreeves. You swallowed the lump in your throat before speaking.

"I'm feeling-- was feeling … guilty. The last time I saw you.. I h-hit you... pretty hard. So, you win. I guess I am here to tell you I'm sorry." You brushed your fingers softly over the bruise that adorned his prominent, proud cheekbone. "I… I just wanted you to be okay. Because I think you were just trying to help. And that's stupid. It's stupid. I'm sorry," you hurriedly stammered.

Diego relinquished his grip on your arm, allowing his hand to travel down your side until it met your waist. He cocked his head and studied your eyes with his own mercurial ones-- searching for any hint of mistruth in your confession, but seemingly finding none.

After all, he too knew the honesty behind words that struggled to come out.

"You were… worried about me? You?"

"Let's not make a big thing of this, big boy. You're obviously fine. I shouldn't have come… An honest mistake. Won’t happen again," you started to turn your head, breaking his gaze.

But Diego's grip on your chin firmed, forcing you to look at him again before surging forward and crushing his lips to yours.

And, oh, this was bliss-- you were just sure of it. Your yearning manifested itself in the hand you had placed on Diego's cheek, cupping your hands to the sides of his face before dragging them back to thread through the closely-cropped hair at the nape of his neck, then passing your hands up through his longer hair toward the top of his head and tugging. You took advantage of the gasp Diego elicited at that sensation, sweeping your tongue into his mouth.

Your shared lust bled through your connected skin, hands on faces and elsewhere… washing over you both like warm static, a pleasant buzz akin to drinking just a little too much champagne.

Diego’s hands tugged at the hem of your rain-dampened hoodie, tugging it over your head. Your newly-exposed skin prickled with goosebumps at the sudden chill. You had run over here in the rain, after all. Diego’s darkened, honeyed gaze reverently took in your form.

Never one to waste an opportunity, you took the break in action as your chance to respond in kind-- peeling his skin-tight black crewneck shirt from his own gloriously-sculpted body.

The two of you stood, staring at each other’s exposed torsos, ragged breaths dragging through the air of passion so-stifling the room like incense you’ve left burning for too long.

Diego stared at your chest, breasts heaving from behind the scrap of lace that constituted your bralette-- were those piercings that made your nipples poke so prominently through the lace? WIth this realization, Diego felt himself harden. He lunged for you with a growl, scooping you by the waist and dropping you with a bounce onto his bed.

His mouth latched onto your throat, sucking insistently while his powerful hands rested at the edges of the delicate lace trim of your bra, passing almost reverently across your ribcage.

You gasped as he brushed a thumb over your nipple, feeling yourself growing wet beneath your leggings. You hmm’d a whine as Diego’s mouth found that spot on your throat, his thumb still rolling circles over your nipple.

“D-Diego,” you gasped, sucking in air like you’d never properly breathed before.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Take it off,” you glanced down at the scrap of lace that adorned your chest. “Please,” you intoned, sweetly.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Diego said,” creeping his fingers beneath the lace to lift it off your skin. Suddenly, with that preternatural speed he’d come to recognize as a gift of those who were enhanced, like himself, you seized his wrist and squeezed.

“It wasn’t meant to be nice,” you ground out. “Take. It. Off. Now.”

With that, you released his wrist, and Diego gripped the lace where it rested beneath your breasts with this two hands and tugged, ripping your bralette cleanly in two, exposing your tits to his roving gaze.

“There you go, Big Deal,” you preened in satisfaction, taking your own hands from where they had previously been resting along his strong abdomen, trailing them down to the top of his jeans. You popped the button on his fly and began tugging his zipper down, before Diego caught your hand as quickly as you had just done to him.

“I’ve got this, baby,” Diego assured.

With that, he brought his mouth down to your left breast, swirling his tongue around your nipple, taking the hand still clutching your wrist and planting it above your head. He released your wrist, trailing his hand, down your side until it met the waistband of your leggings. He pressed his fingers beneath the waistband, raking his fingers under your panties, to where you wanted him most.

As he dragged a finger through your wetness, you gasped out a keening sigh. Diego’s long fingers working magic against your center, rubbing up and down your slit before pressing one, long finger inside. He lifted his mouth from your breast, pressing it to yours to swallow your moan with a searing kiss.

After a few more moments, Diego slid his finger from your center, retracting his hand from your pants, his other hand coming to meet it, peeling your leggings and panties from you in one fluid motion. You lifted and wiggled your hips to assist him. As soon as the leggings were free from your legs, you wasted no time in wrapping your bare legs around Diego’s waist, locking your ankles behind him and pulling him to you, dragging your hands up his neck and into his hair, hissing in pained pleasure as you rolled your hips against Diego’s still denim-clad hardness.

Diego groaned as he felt your hardened nipples press against his chest, the microscopic bite of cold from your piercings as they touched his warm skin made him sigh.

The room felt like it was bordering on a hundred degrees, the previously champagne-drunk feeling of your shared lust now replaced with a frantic urge to taste and mark every inch of the other as their own.

As you continued to grind your hips into Diego, he kissed you deeply, tongue sliding into your mouth, running along your own tongue and teeth, tasting every bit of your want for him as he succumbed to the heated buzz of the room.

Your power had its benefits, he reasoned, if it meant this would feel so… resplendent.

The mutuality of your shared passion was enough to do you in. You couldn’t be imagining that Diego wanted you as much as you wanted him. If that wasn’t the case, you both wouldn’t be burning like this, writhing atop his bed with pent-up passion and aggression.

Diego broke his hands from where they had previously been digging bruises into your hips, coming up onto his knees to start shucking his own jeans and underwear off.

And oh, he thought, you were a vision. As he looked at you while he stripped himself, he was overcome. Your half-lidded gaze swimming with hazy, unfulfilled promises, swirling lazily like the drizzle of sinfully sweet syrup over something forbidden. Your lips were flushed, swollen and lightly bruised from the punishing pace of your shared kisses. Your wickedly luscious curves and the glimmering slick between your thighs on display for only him. In this moment, he felt he could die under whatever your power would dish out, if it meant he died feeling like this.

Now bared to you in his entirety, Diego positioned himself once more between your legs, his impressive length sliding to where he had guided it along your opening.

You tossed your head back, eyes closed at the glorious feeling of his skin finally meeting yours where you wanted it most… but, still, it wasn’t enough.

“Di- eh - go,” you panted, your glimmering gaze meeting his lustrously darkened one. “P-please, I need it. I need you,” you cried piteously, clutching his shoulders and grinding your hips once more against him.

Diego chuckled, only to happy to oblige. With a guiding hand and a smooth flex-and-thrust of his hips, Diego entered you with a powerful, needed thrust. You cried out, sound going straight to his cock, twitching from its rightful place inside of you.

“There, now, baby,” Diego crooned, bringing his mouth back to yours and humming into your open lips. “Doesn’t that feel ... So. Much. Better?” He punctuated each of his last few words with hard, firm thrusts of his hips.

You nodded, eagerly fusing your mouths together, rolling your hips in kind to meet Diego’s sweet, but punishing thrusts.

“After all that shit you pulled with me,” DIego ground out, “It’s nice to know-- this is what you really wanted. Fuck--” he broke off as you clenched around him just right. “This is what you needed.”

You whined your assent, keening and high-pitched.

“Mmmm, I want y-you, as much as you want me,” you gasped out, Diego’s brutal thrusting brushing your clit with his pubic bone, bringing you ever closer, closer, closer to that teetering edge. You lifted yourself up to balance on one hand and meet Diego’s face where he was hovering above you, your sweat-slicked bodies pressing into one another with a delicious, filthy heat. You looked into his eyes, your jaw slack with the stupidly good feeling of everything he was doing to you.

You turned your head to face his sculpted shoulder, and grazed your teeth there, biting into the apex of his arm. Diego hissed, obviously pleased with the feeling, bringing his hand to your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat and tearing your teeth away from his shoulder, guiding your mouth back to his with the pads of his fingers lightly pressing into your airway.

You gasped, the combined feeling of his kiss, his pressing, insistent touch, and his cock inside you brushing repeatedly against that spot of your inner walls causing you to clench, crying out your sudden, gushing release.

Diego guided your head back to his pillow, clenching his fist, the same battered-knuckled boxer’s fist that had previously clutched your throat, now clutched around his bedframe as he hammered his final thrusts, pounding into you until he met his release, groaning as he came down from his sudden, bursting high.

He sighed into your neck, the lovingly sticky heat of your sweaty bodies pressed together as he eased himself from you, pulling you into his side.

You sighed in contentment.

Was everything Diego Hargreeves did punctuated with such beautiful, forthright power?

---

You both lie in the after, bodies pressed firmly together. It would have been romantically intimate had the primary motivator not been the lack of space on Diego's too-small mattress squeezed along the wall in his room.

Nevertheless, you lie there in complete contentment, basking in the afterglow and Diego's delightfully even, rhythmic breathing.

Said lothario had his head turned into your cheek, nose brushing against your hair. His arm around you, curling you to him and trailing his fingers up and down your side at a slow, steady pace.

Why couldn't it always be like this?

After all, fire doused with water still burns brightly at one time, but loses its penchant for destruction, tampered in cool, calming depths and leaving behind cooling steam. So, too, had you and Diego drawn a peaceable, but joyfully sweaty truce.

In that moment, you could see yourself loving him. You know he'd let you, if you gave him enough time and enough of yourself. The man had not had enough love given to him in his life-- he fought for it, tooth and nail. And had come up woefully empty, like clutching at soft sand that slips through your fingers. He'd had the love of his siblings, sure. But this was -- understandably-- different. You recognized a chasm in him that you often thought you'd never mend within yourself.

But he was so deserving of love. Whereas you? Well, the jury was still out.

When you think of Diego, you couldn't help but think of strength. Assuredness. Agility. His aura burned red in your deeper sentiments. Power. You do associate his memory with annoyance, sure, but also a biting wit that he so-oft concealed. And an endearing sentimentality. And an iron will suffused with stubbornness.

You had gleaned some of this from your foray into exploring his emotions, sure. But you don't use your power at every turn. The rest of it was every impression Diego had devastatingly left you with. You had learned so much of him, you yearned to share a piece of yourself, similarly eager for acceptance. Which then prompted you to share--

“You know,” you piped up in the dark, “You remind me a bit of the main character of my favorite books series-- Ever hear of ‘The Dark Tower?’ You know, the legendary Gunslinger?”

Diego scoffed at that.

“Guns are for pussies, real men throw knives,” he stated primly, but still unable to conceal the smile in his voice.

“That sounds a little rehearsed, Big Deal. But I’ll let it slide. Besides, you don’t know what you’re missing,” you acquiesced, turning your head to face him, your noses brushing.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m not into all that bookworm stuff. Cuz, ya know, I’m not a fuckin’ virgin,” he chuckled. Obviously pleased with his middle school-grade burn.

You met his eyes, yours widening in mock surprise. “Oh no?” you gasped. “Well, then why do you dress like one?”

Honestly, it had to be some kind of world record, how fast Diego’s face fell.

"I'm kidding, big boy. You know I dig the black leather," you crooned. Ever eager to smooth the waters of this moment, of his now furrowed brow, back to the placid lake it had been.

"You're goddamn right, you do," Diego chuffed, his grin now prominent in his voice.

You looked at him, your eyes travelling between his shining, ochre eyes and his full lips.

"I do not aim with my hand; he who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I aim with my eye.

“I do not shoot with my hand; he who shoots with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I shoot with my mind.

"I do not kill with my gun; he who kills with his gun has forgotten the face of his father. I kill with my heart," you recited.

Diego regarded you for a moment before brushing his lips across yours, kissing you warmly.

"What was that?" He asked.

"'The Dark Tower,'" you replied. "What? I like to read. You really do remind me of him. Surly, but just. Lost, but ever-searching. Pinpoint accuracy. Deadly. But hasn't lost hope."

Diego kissed you again, running his hand down your body beneath the covers to grip your bum and roll your body over his, urging you to tarry with him on another burning exploration of one another's bodies.

Yes, you think, sighing as Diego's teeth graze that spot on your neck, his warm palm on your breast. You could easily fall in love with him… if you let yourself. You were probably more than halfway in love with him already.

Oh, no.

---

You awoke to the early-morning sun peeking weakly behind the remnants of fat, overstuffed rainclouds from the night before, purpling the sky as sunlight met grey.

You took in Diego’s, sweet sleeping form-- his long lashes fringing his sweetly-closed eyes, his cropped hair mussed from a night of tugging, rolling, writhing. He breathed deeply, evenly, peaceably, as evidenced by the repetitive motion of his muscled torso, his long-fingered hands resting along his stomach.

You couldn’t do this. Couldn’t taint someone so noble and beautiful with your special brand of poisonous manipulation.

You couldn’t stop yourself as you spoke softly to the sleeping man beside you, coming to sit on the edge of his bed and brushing one hand through his soft hair.

“You wanted to know about my power? It’s a curse. You think I want this? This? It’s isolation, Diego-- it’s eternal damnation. I shouldn’t be able to do what I can do … No one should. It’s not a gift, it’s a curse. And it dooms me to a life alone,” your voice cracks as your breath catches in your throat, hitching over tears that were now, suddenly pooling in your eyes. “There’s no trust. It’s what I … It’s what I deserve.”

With that, you left Diego’s room. Leaving him to wake alone to a cold one-half of his bed, fingers clutching over air and the warm memories of the night before. He blinked in confusion, the sting of your rejection settling beneath his skin.

---

When you saw Diego again, it was nearly a month after your last… encounter. The sharp knife of anxiety and longing you so regularly felt in yourself since that day, you recognized immediately as emanating from Diego as you watched him limp away from what you assumed was a particularly nasty fight.

“Big Deal!” You shouted across the street and through the darkness.

Diego’s head whipped up, head turning to the direction of your voice, before meeting your gaze. He shook his head, looked away, and kept walking. Away from you.

Ouch.

Honestly, you could understand why he would. You had done the same to him a month ago. Walked away. But the pinging sting of his rejection dug at you, like glass into the thin skin between your knuckles.

All you had ever wanted was for other people to understand. But mostly, now, you realized… You really only cared that Diego understood.

You took off after him, enhanced speed helping you catch up to his limping form outside of a boarded-up, long-closed bar.

“Diego!” You called, stopping in front of him, causing him to halt.

“What could you possibly want with me, after all this time?” Diego spit.

“I.. I deserve that, Big Deal. I do,” you glanced at your boots, scuffing the toe into the pavement. “Please, just… hear me out?”

You looked up at Diego. Really looked at him. His beautiful, tawny skin damp with sweat from a fight, his usually bright and mischievous eyes sunken under the weight of tired bags that sat beneath them. He looked drawn, more exhausted than you remember. You caught sight of a particularly nasty, jagged cut on the side of his neck that had clearly only recently stopped bleeding, the splotching clot like a raised, splintering cut from a large cat’s claws. A particularly nasty bruise was already forming around his left eye and onto his beautifully-sculpted, prominent cheek.

You rushed to meet him, your fingers coming to brush along his cheeks, mindful of the bruise. He closed his eyes at your touch, lashes fanning downward in defeat.

“Who hurt you? What did they do, Big Deal? Who the fuck did this? If anyone hurt you, I would make them hurt. I’ll make them pay”

Diego dropped the knife you now noticed was previously-clutched in his right hand, bringing his hand to meet your wrist.

“Don’t do that,” he whispered.

“Don’t do what? Kill the fucker who hurt you? Fine, I’ll just break their knees--” you started, before Diego shushed you.

“No,” he said, “Shut the fuck up. D- Don’t act like you give a shit. Someone who gives a shit wouldn’t bounce for a fuckin’ month. Not after a night like that.”

Your hand left Diego’s face.

“I… I deserve that,” you said. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” And with that, you plopped yourself onto the pavement, sitting on the sidewalk at Diego’s feet. Annoying? Sure. Dramatic? Sure. But if something is stupid and it works, then it isn’t stupid.

Diego sighed at you, rolling his eyes before coming to sit beside you, gasping out in pain and clutching an obviously bruised rib or two on his way down.

“Fine. Tell me what the fuck happened. Why’d you go?”

“Diego--” you started… “I-- I can’t be with someone when I’m like this. It never works,” you confessed.

“Like what?” He pressed, bringing his hand to your knee.

“I’m-- I’m a monster,” you cried. “Adler knew it. Everyone I meet knows it. It’s only a matter of time before you know it too. I just… I don’t know how to stop.” The tears you thought you could hold at bay were now creeping up and causing your throat to close around your words of contrition.

“You’re not--” Diego began, but you silenced him with a harsh wave of your hand.

“You don't understand. You wanted to know how it works? I’ll tell you. The power works based on the other's emotion, sure. I amplify what they feel. Cripple them with it, even. But that's not all… it only works, really works, if it's something I can draw on. They feel what I want them to feel-- because I feel it too …" you admitted. “Everything I ever do to someone else I can only do because I know how it feels. If I want someone to hurt, they’ll hurt… I -- I don’t want to do that to you, too.”

“You won’t. Not with me,” Diego pressed.

“And how can you be sure? Even now, I feel how pissed you are at me for leaving. It’s humming beneath your skin. I can feel it.”

Diego nodded, picking up the knife he had previously dropped and beginning to spin it around in his hand.

“I know it because I felt it. When we were together,” he sighed. “We both, we both can do these things. Anyone else would piss themselves if it was turned against them. But you look the danger of what I am in the face, and you laugh. When we’re together, we’re matched. The way that room felt? I know what that was.”

You sat, stunned at Diego’s read of the situation.

“I take back what I said the first night we met,” you said. At the question in his eyes, you continued, “You’re not dumb. That was… that was… something. But I know how to flex my power. I know what fells all men. Fear is a powerful emotion."

Diego smiled at you.

“I hate to break it to you, princess, but I’m not scared of you. I know you think I am, but I’m not. And you know what's even stronger than fear? Love."

You looked at Diego, blinked. He blinked back. You then turned your head with a mocking, retching, gag.

"Jesus, Big Deal. They teach you ‘Hokey Catchphrases 101’ at Dysfunctional Superhero Camp?"

“Hey,” he jostled your shoulder with his. “You know I’m right.”

You stood, offering Diego your hand.

“Come on, big boy. Walk me home?”

Diego acquiesced, coming to stand with a stifled grunt.

“You’re lucky I heal quickly.”

With that, the two of you walked down the street. You matched Diego’s stride, mindful of his injuries. As you walked side-by-side, your fingers brushed. Before you could stop yourself or think better of it, you took Diego’s hand.

When you reached your door, you turned to Diego, fiddling with your keys.

“Everyone’s distinct, you know? Everyone feels differently. Wears their hearts on their sleeve, so to speak. But with everyone, it’s a different emotion. Some flaunt pride. Some are more passive. Do you want to know what I feel when I see you?”

Diego glanced down to where your hands were still joined. He brought them up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I want whatever you’ll tell me. You’re such an open book,” he admitted sarcastically. You rolled your eyes.

“Come on, I’m being serious here. You feel... you feel...”

At Diego’s urging look, you continued.

"You feel like warmth. Like I could wrap myself in you and never feel the biting cold of my heart again. And when you're not around? The absence of you is worse than any feeling I could ever exploit. I hate it when you aren't here."

Diego stared at you in silence for a moment, before he spoke, “I really think you should open the door now and let me take you inside.”

You smiled, pleased that your honest confession had gone over well, the smile morphing into a smirk.

“As you wish, Big Deal.”

And in the morning? Well, In the morning, you and Diego were still wrapped up in one another.

You looked into Diego’s swimming, honey-and-tar eyes, tracing your palms down the sides of his jaw and cupping his cheeks as you told him, “You have my whole heart. It’s yours -- crush it, hold it, bury it in whatever you feel ... Do whatever you want with it, I don’t care. Just say you want it-- that you want me.”

“I want you.” With that, he kissed you deeply.

---

You were a master of emotional manipulation. To do that, you had to have a decent handle on your own emotions. For years, you’d rested on your own laurels of your mastery of self, indulging only in the most passing of forays into others’ feelings for the sake of your own.

So why on Earth were you so fucking nervous? Why couldn’t you get it under control?

Yet, here you were, hand in Diego’s, fingers laced, on your way to Hargreeves Manor to meet his siblings, months after your mutual confessions of want. The two of you had been inseparable.

Diego clearly sensed your unease, because he turned to you, squeezing your fingers in his own, planting a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“They’ll like you,” he promised.

“How can you be so sure?” You worried, trying to keep all of them straight in your mind based on Diego’s stories, anecdotes and descriptions.

“Because I like you, and they love to annoy me. So they’ll definitely want to buddy up,” he chuckled with a shrug. “Baby, you’ll be fine.”

With that, you found yourself standing in the ornate living room with five nonplussed persons who introduced themselves to you one by one.

As the largest of the group approached you, you beat him to the punch.

“You must be Luther,” you said, pumping your arm in a handshake where his hand comically dwarfed yours.

Luther blinked. “How did you know?”

"Easy,” you said, “You look like a 'Number One.’ "

Luther straightened, obviously pleased. "Important?" he asked.

"Self-important."

This caused the lithe one with the smudged eyeliner who had introduced himself with a wink as, “Klaus, darling,” to howl with laughter.

“She’s fuckin’ got your number, Luther,” he gasped out between his chuckles. He turned to the seemingly-empty air beside himself and said, “I know! She is fun!”

The group found itself sitting around the living room on the various, overstuffed furnishings, in a fun little Q-and-A circle, which was only getting easier all the time, as you found the Hargreeves siblings’ obvious bond to be so endearing. The glamorous one you knew to be Allison had queried about your power, curious as to how you and Diego had met.

Diego had recounted your first meeting to the group, and proffered an explanation of your powers with, "She takes the idea of 'wrapped up in your emotions' and makes it literal."

“And how did this come about?” Klaus queried, gesturing his long fingers between you and Diego. “It’s not like that first meeting was full of warm-and fuzzies.”

“I don’t know … We’ve … run into each other a few times,” you offer with a shrug and a shy grin.

Klaus clapped his hands, a large grin adorning his face.

“Oh-ho! I like this. Diego’s girlfriend beats the shit out of him on the regular!” Klaus happily sang to the massive living room. “Or is that how you two, you know, keep it exciting?” he intoned to Diego in what must have been the world’s loudest and worst attempt at a whisper.

“She does not beat the shit out of me,” Diego protested, rolling his eyes at his brother’s swaggering antics.

“Right, right, you beat the shit out of each other. Honestly, I get it. Kinda hot. No judgment from me, you crazy kids,” Klaus smiled and held up his hands in surrender, flashing you the “Hello” and “Goodbye” on his palms. “Diego told me about you the day after you first met. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it myself when I’m ever-so-alone at night,” he added with a wink.

All you could do was chuckle. Who couldn’t love Klaus Hargreeves?

After that, the questioning from the gathered siblings dissipated into a casual little party, with people pairing off to speak in groups of just them, and with drinks from the open bar being passed around amongst the siblings. Even Five. If you were honest, it was strange to see a thirteen-year-old boy drink frozen margaritas. But you’d had to remind yourself that he was actually older than all of you. Honestly, you’d tried not to think about it too hard.

In between drinks, you found yourself engaged in silly banter with Klaus and Vanya, laughing at Klaus’s stories of eating bagels from dumpsters and his bantering memories with their brother Ben. You responded in kind with stories of your own-- making your elementary school teachers believe they’d had crushes on one another by exploiting their repressed desires, making your classmates piss themselves every Halloween with some prank or another ...

While Vanya was a bit more reserved with her amusement, you’d caught a smile playing at her lips. Klaus outright howled.

“Oh, you truly belong here, don’t you? Reggie would’ve haaaated you,” he gestured at the stern portrait of their father. “Which means you’re absolutely perfect for our dear Diego,” Klaus proclaimed, lacing his fingers through your own.

With that, Klaus turned to you with a conspiratorial giggle and hmm'd into your ear, "You know what they say, peaches. 'A scrub is a guy who thinks he's fly.' And if we're being honest, Diego deeeeeeefinitely thinks he's fly."

You laughed, choking on your sip of margarita. You’d never felt a kind of discordant unity like this one.

With Diego’s family… with Diego, you felt like you truly did belong.

As you and Diego lay together in bed after the day with his family, he’d asked if you felt comfortable.

“Of course, love.” You pressed a small kiss to the tip of Diego’s nose, nuzzling your own against his. “They were wonderful. You’re wonderful. Thank you for sharing all of this with me.”

Diego gazed lovingly at you, eyes, a deep, endless pit of an eclipse, brimming with golden honey streaks of mischief.

“I can’t wait to share everything with you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into your shoulder and settling beside you comfortably.

Ah. So that’s what that warm, soft, cotton-y, cloud-like feeling you had begun to experience since you’d began your relationship with Diego was ... Comfort. Funny how it blended so seamlessly into the burning, cinnamon-tinged, blooming one you’d come to recognize as his love.

---

Tagging: @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @winters-buck @qveenbvtch @forever-rogue @ali-cide @fleetwoodmactshirt @stellarkyun @zeldasayer @ayeayecaptaingally @nappingtopknot @holographic-carmen @mandaloriane @pascalplease @phoenixhalliwell @white-wolf-buckaroo @melon-eyes @pancakepike @noturjacky @johnc0nstantine @amarachoren @outrebanx @yespolkadotkitty @agentpike @cryptkeepersoul @netflixandzayn @deadpoolcouldshootme @manchuria @flhorah @halerune @spideymanreads @athousandbuckys @imagining-constantly @dovesgrangers @ravenoussss @pyrosag @rzrcrst

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awesometheydontknowiamhere · 4 years

Text

Oh Mi Princesa

Summary: David receives a package with the script for Umbrella Academy Season two and is very excited to start filming soon. Reader decided to make his evening even more special, fuelled by David’s use of Spanish.

Fandom: David Castaneda

Pairing: David Castaneda X Reader

Words: 829

Warnings: Smut. Serious oral happening here. 18+.

Requests: Yes, by a lovely anon who properly challenged me with this one:

“can you write some david castañeda smut in which he talks dirty to the reader in spanish,,, i don’t have a plot line but just make it hOtt af ??”

Author’s note: I apologize in advance for all the Spanish errors in this fic. I will not make any excuses here, I barely speak Spanish, but I’ve tried to make this as sexy as I could. Enjoy.

For people like me, aka, people who don’t speak Spanish, I am including the meanings of all the phrases I’ve used.

Mi princesa- My princess

Oh Dios mio- oh my God

Mi reina, eso se siente tan bien- My queen, that feels so good

Mi alma- My soul

mi Corazon - my heart

gracias, preciosa- Thank you, beautiful

Diego Hargreaves Tag list:

@imultifandomstuff @w0nder-marie@chloemac86@theladywholivesonthemoon @hemogoblin-s @pansexualpaperdragons@gorgeourrific-nerd @purplezebra68 @vividholland@bands-and-shietz@onlydeanandjensen @slither-in-a-half@reblogserpent@missscarlett1802 @lovelyheadrush @sippin-on-all-this-tea @mrsdiegohargreeves @lostsoldieronahill @katylovescats @lilithsweetghost

“Hell, yeah!”

You looked up from your book to see David grinning with a brown package in his hand.

“Y/N, mi princesa, look what I just received in the mail. The script is here for season two,” he said, his eyes wide and glowing with excitement.

You leaped up from the couch into his arms, tackling him to a nearby armchair.

“That’s incredible, Papi. I am so happy for you. Now I am going to see more of you, all strapped with leather belts and all sexy and buff.”

You placed a congratulatory kiss on his lips, your hands on his shoulders. David deepened it further, his hand snaking up to your neck, holding you in place as he coaxed your lips apart with his tongue.

Your tongues fought for dominance, but he won the fight as he gripped your hair, the rough gesture dumbfounding you for a minute.

David moved his hands to your waist and repositioned you directly over his growing erection.

With just a pair of sweatpants and thin cotton underwear separating your cores, you felt him, maddeningly close yet so far.

He was busy attacking your neck with little nips from his teeth, emptying your mind of all thought, but his incredible dick.

You pushed yourself off of him, ignoring the confused look on his face you sank to your knees in front of him.

A smirk later your hands went to the drawstring of his sweats. You pulled the fabric down and his dick sprang out. You leaned forward and David nearly held his breath in anticipation.

Not breaking eye contact, your tongue shot out from between your lips and licked a long, uninterrupted, wet stripe from the base to the tip of his dick.

“Oh Dios mio,” whispered David, and a switch flipped within you.

You were used to him conversing in occasional Spanish, but hearing him like this, made you hungry for more. With the singular goal of making him lose his inhibitions and let go in Spanish, you retreated your tongue back into your mouth and wrapped your lips around the tip of his dick.

David’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he let out a groan.

Despite being with him for several months, his girth always surprised you, especially when he was in your mouth.

You took a deep breath, placed your hands on his thighs, and slowly started to bob your head.

“ Mi reina, eso se siente tan bien. Fuck, baby.”

You moaned around his cock and he involuntarily bucked into your mouth at the sensation.

“Nene, keep that up and I will come in no time,” he said placing his hands on your arms with the intention of bringing you to your feet.

“Hands off, Papi. Today is about you, let me making you feel good.”

You wrapped your hands around his cock, moving them in a rhythmic motion. Your mouth joined the party and keeping a firm grip on him, your tongue softly assaulted the tip which had started forming beads of precum.

His hands gathered up the hair away from your face as he intently watched his dick disappear between your lips. He enjoyed the soft pressure of your palm, eliciting soft moans every time you squeezed a bit harder.

You were loving his hands in hair, steering you, dictating your speed ever so gently. You took a deep breath and sank deeper onto his cock, trying to get as much of his length as possible.

His tip hit the back of your throat and you faltered for a second and like a warm glove it tightened over his cock.

“Oh princesa,” he groaned. His breathing turned slightly erratic and he was slowly losing control.

His hips bucked of their own accord and he fucked your mouth hard and fast. You sat with your jaw slackened, giving him as much room to fuck you as you could.

He was close and you could feel it in the way his cock twitched in your mouth when he stopped for a second to give you time to breathe.

Frantic whispering of your name followed a string of Spanish expletives filled the room. You let out a deep moan, his cock vibrating in its wake.

He pulled out of your mouth and rose to his feet. You turned to face him, to the sight of him vigorously pumping his cock.

You tilted your chin up and streak of warm liquid sprayed across your face. David gasped out and another streak painted your chin and your lips. A couple more shots later, he collapsed on the armchair and you reached for the tissues and mopped up your face.

He held a hand out and you grabbed it, curling in his lap.

“Mi alma, mi Corazon, he said as he kissed your forehead, “ gracias, preciosa.”

You hummed out a smile, a feeling drowsiness washing over you. You snuggled further into him and promptly fell asleep, the last thing you registered was a chuckle from your beloved David.

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writingsbychlo · 5 years

Text

Care For You | Diego Hargreeves

Author: @writingsbychlo

Word Count: 4840

Notes: I got such mad inspo tonight, guys, I wrote a whole fic from scratch after struggling to write even 50 words for months. Let’s hope it sticks around! It’s pretty basic, fairly fluffy, drunk Diego fic, with some smut at the end.

Warnings: SMUT! Just basic, casual smut (unusual for me, I know. My first Diego fic, thought I’d take it easy on the kinky shit.)

Just a few minutes after three in the morning, was the time your alarm clock was showing, the loud banging on your door stirring you, and you climbed from the bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants that did not belong to you that you had fished from the floor and tucking the hem of the t-shirt that also was not yours, into it.

The pants were far too big, and you slid across the hardwood of the bottom floor of your house as your partially covered feet came into contact with the slippery surface, and you caught yourself on the wall before proceeding to the door. Swinging it open, you were almost met by a poorly swung fist, it’s intention having been to meet the painted wood again, but you caught the limp swing in your hand, eyes travelling along the arm to find the culprit.

With a shake of your head, you opened the door wider, the cold air for the early morning hours sweeping in and causing you to shiver. “Darling, hi!” The words were slurred as Klaus waved happily, seeming to look more through you, than at you, before his eyes refocused beside you, a scowl forming on his lips. “No, I will not! Drop dead, Ben, I’m drunk and flourishing!” He pouted, his attention turning back to you, and you tried to hold in your laughs as you watched him and Diego try to prop one another up.

“Why didn’t you let yourself in, Di?” You teased, his eyebrows furrowing as he opened his mouth.

“L-Lost my-” cut off by a hiccup, he held a hand across his chest, as if he’d been shot, before suddenly relaxing again, “-keys.” He grinned, leaning forwards with his lips pouted in hopes of receiving a kiss, the action causing both of the Hargreeves boys to topple forwards, their arms still firmly locked around one another’s shoulders.

Reaching around your boyfriend’s waist as you walked them into the house backwards, you let your hand roam into his back pocket, feeling him jump slightly at the contact. Retracting the cold set of metal, you pulled back, jingling the item in front of his face. “These ones?”

“Hey! Y-You found my keys!” He smiled, letting you drop them in the dish on the side and kick the door shut. “She found my keys.” He smiled to Klaus, who was busy trying to peel his sparkly top over his head, struggling as it locked around his elbows, his arms pinned above his head, shirt stuck and he whined. “Help.” His voice was muffled, words barely forming and you held back your laugh.

Reaching up and pulling it the rest of the way from his arms, you handed it to him, where he simply hung it over the back of the couch, dropping unceremoniously down onto the cushions, an arm propped behind his head. Wobbling as he stood, Diego just watched you take the small plastic bin from the study and place it beside the now sleeping man on his sofa. Tugging off the shoes and placing them beside him, you draped a blanket over his form, a yawn pulling at your lips.

Turning your attention back to the man you were actually dating, he swayed slightly in the doorway, a dopey smile on his lips and he raised his arms out, making grabby hands at you, indicating he wanted you to hold him, and you shook your head fondly, slowly making your way into his arms.

Taking his hands, you slowly guided him up the stairs, a process that took what felt like hours as he timidly took each step, looking at you for approval after successfully taking each one. By the time you’d made it to the bathroom, your eyes were drooping, but you knew this had been you many a time before and Diego had cared for you.

Granted, the man benched two-hundred, and so had an advantage on you.

Pressing him up against the sink, you grabbed the hem of his shirt, tugging it up, but he crossed his arms and huffed. “Arms up, Di, come on.” You pleaded, tugging at the black henley but he just whined, stomping his foot like a child.

“Wan’ sleep.” He mumbled, and you laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to his chin, his mood instantly perking up and he smiled down at you.

“Me too, Diego, but you’re not getting in our bed smelling like a brewery. How much alcohol did you drink and how much did you spill down your front?” You teased, a giggle leaving his lips as he raised his arms above his head, doing little to help you pull the top from his body. When you eventually did, his hands fell down, landing on your waist, his warm touch bringing you a comfort at knowing he was home and safe.

“You’re l-like, r-really pretty. So, so pr-pretty.” He began, and you smiled, your attention focusing on undoing the buckle on his belt, trying to tug it from the loops of his jeans as he stood, lifting his hips from the counter slightly to help you, the item joining the growing pile on the tiles. “Did it hurt?” He mumbled, and your eyebrows furrowed, worried gaze meeting his eyes, but his lips were curled into a smirk. “When you f-fell from h-heaven?”

Your jaw hung open, your eyes wide as you looked at him, small giggles falling from his lips, his hands tightening on your hims as he pulled you closer to him, nose finding your temple.

“Are y-you a t-ten? Because T-Tennessee!” He smiled brightly, and you laughed, loudly, leaning forwards until your face was tucked into his neck to quieten the sounds, his arms rounding your body and holding you close, a content sigh leaving his lips.

“Are you using, or trying to use, pick-up lines on me?” You teased, pulling away and hooking your fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and tugging them down his legs, undoing the laces on his boots.

“Are they w-working?” Hands on your shoulders, he used you to balance himself as he looked down at you, lifting his foot as you tugged off his boot and sock, letting him step out of his jeans, the other foot soon following.

Turning on the shower and lifting the head down from it’s stand, you let it find the right temperature. Turning to face Diego, you motioned to the tub, holding your free hand out in case he needed help stepping in. Much to your dismay, he sat on the edge of the tub instead, though it didn’t last long, because when he leaned back he fell straight in, legs hanging over the edge as he stared at the ceiling in shock.

“Oh, my God! Diego!” Leaning over him, he didn’t seem injured, just dazed as he stared upwards, eventually dragging his legs in after himself, making no move to sit up, just laying in the bottom. Handing him the shower head, he held it gently, eyes fixed on you as the water sprayed onto his stomach, dripping down his sides and soaking his boxers.

“You’re so lucky I love you.” You mumbled, dropping the sweat pants down your legs and climbing in, pulling on his hand until he was sat up and leaning against the edge of the tub.

“You l-love me?” He whispered, almost drowned out by the sound of the shower as you straddled him, leg either side of him as you perched in his lap, pinning him in this position so he couldn’t slip back down to the base of the tub again. Cupping his face in your hands, you leaned forwards, pressing a short, sweet and simple kiss to his lips.

“Of course, I love you, we’ve been together for two years, Di.” You smiled, a grin breaking out on his cheeks to match as you took the shower head from his hands, wetting his hair and reaching for the soap. Balancing the device on your shoulder, the water ran over you, soaking you from head to toe as he was, the foam in your fingers smearing across his shoulders and torso as you did your best to clean the sticky residue from his body.

Leaning forwards and pressing a kiss to your shoulder, through the shirt, he let his forehead rest against you, letting you clean him down, relaxing into your touch. “Will shmp m hur?” With furrowed eyebrows, you leaned back, gazing at him as he sighed, features rested in gentle bliss. “W-Will you sh-shampoo my h-hair? I like it when y-you do.” He repeated, with what had to be the softest voice you’d ever heard Diego Hargreeves use.

Reaching onto the shelf, you brought back your set of shampoo and conditioner, popping it open and letting him sniff the wild berries scent it released. Closing joy filled eyes, he let out a soft moan as you lathered his hair up, fingers scratching over his scalp lightly and massaging away the stress of the days he always had.

Clearing his hair of suds, you ran a bit of conditioner through his hair, knowing that despite how much he would deny it, his hair had been softer since you’d moved in a year ago, and your conditioner was being used up twice as fast. He’d thank you in the morning, mentally, of course. Switching off the shower, you let it dangle behind the man as you stepped out, his eyes still closed and a dopey smile on his face. Peeling the wet shirt over your head, you wrapped a towel around your body tightly, helping him from the bathtub and helping him strip, handing him a towel.

Instead, he just picked up his sweatpants from the floor and tugged them up his legs, almost falling over as he did, but you caught him before he stumbled back into the tub. Making his way to the bedroom, he let himself flop down onto the covers, water dripping from the tips of his hair onto the fabric, but he was home, safe and clean, so you couldn’t find it within yourself to care about the little things.

Dropping the towel, you could feel Diego’s eyes on you as you searched through your drawers for another one of his t shirts, letting it swamp your body as you located panties. Hands on your hips made you jump, and it astounded you that the man could still sneak silently while fucking hammered. “I like it w-when you w-wear my cl-clothes.” He pressed his lips to your neck, his smile evident against your skin and you pushed your arm back into him, disconnecting him from your body as he whined, watching you pull your underwear up your legs.

With a pout on his lips, he took another step towards you, your hand coming up to his bare chest, fingers splaying out across the muscles there and you pushed him backwards, his legs hitting the edge of the bed as he tumbled backwards. “Yay!” He grinned, settling back on the covers and letting you straddle his lap, his large hands finding your thighs squeezing tightly before sneaking around under his top to squeeze at your butt. Whooping loudly, he tugged at the shirt’s hem, wanting to lift it over your head, and you took his hands away from it, lacing your fingers through his.

“Not tonight, Di.”

“But y-you look so g-good in my clothes.” The words were muttered distastefully as you tilted your head, biting your lip.

“Would you settle for a good old-fashioned, high-school make out?” You teased, and he considered, it, nodding eagerly and leaning forwards, catching you lips with his and humming happily. Your own arms wove around his neck as his snaked around your waist, his tongue tracing your bottom lip, a little more sloppily than usual, begging entry.

Granting him that, you took his bottom lip between your teeth, nipping at it lightly as he moaned softly, pulling away to trial kissed down your jaw, kissing beneath your ear and sucking at the skin lightly, licking over the patch as it stung in a way would leave a mark tomorrow morning.

Leaning back in his arms, he trailed his kisses down to your collar bone, using his finger to tug the material as far to the side as he could, revealing more of your skin to himself, and he trailed wet kisses over everything he could reach. Biting down gently at the junction between your neck and shoulders, you jumped, hips rolling into his as you did and he let out a breathy moan.

Dragging your lips back to his, it was softer than your other kisses had been, sharing all the love between you both, all the care you had was shown in the gaze you held with him when you pulled away. Tiredness was pulling at his mind, you could see it in the way his eyes were drooping slightly, his lips pressed together as he held in a yawn, but for now, he was just happy holding you in his arms.

His head was swirling, eyes unable to focus and his thoughts were buzzing, but when he held you, everything seemed to still, his mind blanking as he just enjoyed your presence in his lap, the feel of you in his arms. “You wan’ sleep?” You mumbled through a yawn of your own, and he simply nodded, scooting you both backwards up the bed and pulling the covers over your tired bodies, letting darkness pull him into slumber, your heart beating against his side as you stayed wrapped in his arms.

Waking in the morning, you were alone in the bed, the covers on the other side of you were kicked away but the sheets were still warm, indicating he hadn’t been gone long. You could hear Klaus downstairs having, from your end anyway, a one-sided conversation with Ben. Making your way down the stairs, the blinds and curtains had all been shut, and a smile broke out at the image of your shirtless boyfriend stirring coffee with a frown, a pair of sunglasses on his face in the dark room.

His lips twitched upwards as you entered the room, and Klaus ceased his conversation with Ben as he saw you, a wide grin breaking out. “There she is! The saving grace for the Hargreeves family!” He wasn’t loud, especially not for his usual self, but Diego still grimaced at the noise, and you smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and ruffling his hair.

“Sleep well, Klaus?” You questioned, opening the fridge and pulling out the orange juice, pouring yourself a glass.

“I slept like a baby! Admittedly, a drunken, perpetually haunted baby, but a baby nonetheless.” He then took up talking to Ben again, an argument he seemed to be loosing, and you turned to your boyfriend, who removed the sunglasses, placing them down on the counter to look at you properly.

“And how did you sleep?”

“With an angel between my arms. Woke up with a bitch of a headache, though.” He was all but whispering, and he shot you a glare as you laughed, but it was laced with love as he glowered. “I can’t believe I let Klaus convince me to drink that much last night.” Wincing as he thought back, you unloaded food and ingredients from the fridge, laughing loudly.

“I can’t believe how drunk you were considering how much of it was on you, rather than in you.” You teased and he sighed, rubbing at his temples and placing his drink down on the side, giving up on waiting for it to cool down and choosing to instead sip at your orange juice. “You want some breakfast? Soak up all that tequila?”

Nodding in pleading acceptance, he downed the whole glass, refilling it and finishing the carton, tossing it accurately into the bin across the room. “How’d you know we did tequila shots?”

“I could taste it on you, baby.” His eyes squeezed shut as he thought back on last night, a groan leaving his lips, and you merely leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips and reaching behind him for the whisk.

Heating the pan, you tipped the batter in, letting it sizzle away, and Diego moved around you to lay out three plates, three glasses and all the toppings Klaus usually piled onto his food. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pressed a kiss to your hair, resting his chin on top of your head as you finished up cooking. “Thank you.”

“For making pancakes?” You quizzed, flipping it onto it’s opposite side once it was golden brown.

“For caring about me.” He confirmed, and you leaned back into him, enjoying his warmth and letting him hold you close. As you handed him the full plate to carry to the table, a slight blue flash in the corner of your eye caught your attention, and you glanced up, a soft smile on your lips as Five looked around the room, the usual sceptical look adorning his features, his mood brightening once he assessed the situation.

“Good morning, five.” He nodded, rocking on the balls of his feet as smiled at you. “Joining us for pancakes?” The grin widened as he nodded, jumping again so he was sat at the table, another plate form your cabinet in front of him.

“Thought you’d never ask.” With a chuckle, you shook your head, mixing him a fresh cup of coffee and placing it down in front of him, a grateful hum on his lips in thanks and you took your own seat at the table as the three boys tucked in, fighting with their forks to get at the stack of pancakes and toppings. Pushing a plate in front of you, Diego had stacked three of your own makings onto it, a smiley face in whipped cream sprayed on top, and he was now stacking his own plate up, large quantities of maple syrup and cream being used.

Hooking a finger under his chin, you turned his gaze to you before he started eating, and you pressed a kiss to his lips, his moving immediately in response. “Gross, I’m eating.” Klaus mumbled, before yelping in pain, rubbing his arm in comfort and you broke away, both of you looking at Five, whose mouth was full, cheeks puffed out with food and fork retracting from where he’d jabbed his brother with it.

“Stop being ungrateful, eat your pancakes.” He lectured, the fifty year-old in him coming from his physically thirteen year-old self. Sipping his coffee and swallowing some of the mouthful he had, Klaus stuck his tongue out.

“Say it, don’t spray it. Jeez. If this is how you eat at a civilised dinner table then it’s a good thing you were alone all that time, huh?” The curly-haired brother teased, and you rolled your eyes, your mouth opening to end it, along with Diego, but Five beat you both to it.

“I wasn’t alone! I had Dolores!” The youngster protested, and he reached up, flicking Klaus’ forehead, who just gasped at the action and reached up to rub the spot. “And it couldn’t possibly be civilised, not with you in attendance!”

“It’s a good thing Dolores couldn’t move, because if I was her, I would’ve slapped the shit out of you by now!” He retaliated, flicking his younger brother on the forehead right back, a loud laugh leaving both you and Diego’s lips as the scene unfolded.

“I’ll slap the shit out of you, right now!” Five yelled, standing to his full height, all five foot three inches of it, and Klaus stood two, a pancake in hand as he took a bite out of it.

“Can you even reach?” Deciding it was enough, Diego rounded the table, grabbing his smallest brother from mid-air as he spacial jumped to Klaus’ height, arm swung back, quickly being snatched away, angrily squirming in his brothers arms.

Clearing away the plates, you shook your head at the squabbling boys, laughing as Diego held them apart, while trying to eat his own breakfast, shadows fluttering across the room once you opened all the curtains and blinds. With a hand on his shoulder, Five jumped the pair of them from the room and the house, presumably back to their own home to continue their argument and hassle Luther, Allison and Vanya instead.

With a groan, Diego flopped back in his seat, rubbing his temples and letting his head hang back over the chair. Leaning over him, your pressed and upside down kiss to his forehead, and he reached up, tugging you down to his lips, pecking yours and smiling against your touch.

“Last night was a catastrophe. I’m sorry for waking you up.” He mumbled, tidying away his own plate, letting you watch him as you leaned against the counter, watching him.

“It’s a good thing you did, you were not getting in bed smelling like that, and you were in no shape to wash yourself.” You teased, and he made his way over to you, hands trapping you in, either side of your hips as he leaned down, nose brushing against yours, lovingly.

“We showered together? I’m sorry I missed that.” He grinned, nose bumping yours to the side so he could catch you lips with his. Hands squeezing your hips, he let the weight of his body fall against you, pinning you to the counter and yours rested on his chest, fingernails scraping against his skin ever so slightly. “Tell me about it?”

“You were all sticky and gross, you tried to pick me up with terrible lines, and you couldn’t hold yourself up in the bathtub, so I had to do it.” He chuckled, breath fanning over your lips as he did, and you leaned up, wanting to connect your lips to his again, but he just looked down at you, a glint in his eyes, pupils covering his usual honey brown eyes.

“You know, I think I’m starting to remember it now.” His voice was raspier as he lifted you up, planting you on the cold counter, your thighs erupting in goosebumps at the touch to the cold counter. Hands on your knees, he parted your legs, stepping between them happily. “You, in that white shirt of mine, soaked through.” As he spoke, he let his hands trail up, fingers brushing your hair from your neck, baring your skin to him. “God, you looked so hot. I could see fucking everything.” He growled, lips descending onto yours as he nipped at them, tongue soothing the bites as he took control, your fingers bunching up in the material of his sweatpants as you pulled him closer.

Pushing you backwards against the counter, you leaned into it, hands splayed out behind you to hold you up as he kissed downwards, pulling the new shirt over your head as he threw it across the room. You shivered, the cool air brushing over your exposed skin and he leaned down, kissing along your chest. “Diego..”

“God, I love your tits.” His words were spoken against your skin, warmth spreading across your body as his words vibrated against your skin, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples as he sucked harshly, a moan leaving your lips as his fingers came up to play with the other.

Swirling his tongue around the bud, he pulled away, applying the same attention to the other as you whined and squirmed in his grasp, fingers grabbing at his hair as your breathing began to shallow. “Diego, please!”

Dragging his tongue over your skin until he reached your mouth again, he smiled into the kiss, fingers tracing down your body to press against your clit through your panties. “You took care of me last night, let me take care of you, now.” He whispered the words into your mouth, pulling away and you all but whimpered in response as he pulled you to the edge of the counter, tugging your panties roughly down your legs and throwing them away too.

“Whatever you want, Diego, just please do something!” You begged, and the look in his eyes made you almost wish you hadn’t, his mouth closing around your clit, flicking his tongue over it as you whined, hips jumping from the counter as your arms gave out. Laying flat against the tiles, the unshaven scruff decorating his jawline was scratching at the inside of your thighs, the sting creating a delicious friction as his mouth worked.

When he raised a single finger pushing it into you gently and running it along your inner walls until he was buried to the knuckle, pulling out and adding a second as he worked, your eyes rolling back in your head at the mixture of feelings.

Grinning against you, he hummed, knowing the action drove you crazy and you shook, loud moans leaving your lips as you tugged at his hair. Scissoring his fingers slightly, the stretch made you ache for more, for what he could give you, and he pulled away, still pumping his fingers in and out of you quickly as the other hand was held out for you, pulling you up so he could get to you.

With fingers woven in your hair, hot lips meeting yours and you could taste yourself on his tongue. Tightening around him, he could tell you were close, that and the way your body was starting to shake.

Pulling his fingers from you, he raised his fingers to your lips, raising his eyebrows. “Be a good girl, and clean up the mess you made?” His grin was wicked to say the least, jaw hanging slack slightly as you took his fingers between your lips, swirling your tongue around the digits and sucking happily, cleaning his fingers.

Using the hand in your head to tug your head back, he kissed and bit at the skin the action exposed, leaving purple marks trailing from your jaw to your shoulder, the skin hot and aching in a way that shot pleasure straight to your core as he soothed the marks with his kisses and licks.

Pushing his sweatpants just far enough down legs to let his cock spring free, he took his member in his hand, pumping himself a little as his eyes hooded, and you locked your legs around his waist, tightening them and using it to pull him forwards until his tip was pressing at your entrance, precum leaking, dripping slowly along his shaft.

Teasing you, he pressed himself in, only slightly, leaving you gasping in pleasure but pleading for more. Eventually giving in to the feeling of your walls hugging around him, he let himself sink into your heat fully, hands bracing himself on the counter top, yours wrapping under his arms to hold onto him tightly, ankles locking around his waist as he pulled out, just far enough to slam back into you, the breath being knocked from you as he filled you completely, a loud moan leaving your lips.

Your nails were scratching marks into his back each time he pushed back into you, his pace picking up and your body was shaking beneath him. His hips met yours each time, skin slapping against skin as he buried his face in your neck, both of you covered in a thin layer of sweat as you desperately chased your highs.

A series of ‘fuck’ left his lips, breathlessly, as he pulled back, lips slamming into yours roughly, all teeth and tongue as he guided your hand to his hair, your fingers pulling roughy as the strands as his fingers found your clit, moving rapidly over the already overstimulated bud to bring you to your high.

The feeling of you trembling in his arms, your name being screamed form his lips as you tightened around his cock, dragging everything from him, it drew him to his own climax, and he pulled out, pumping himself twice before spilling hot ribbons of cum over his hand, legs shaking as he came, fingers coated in his own release.

Both of your pants filled the room, and his eyes closed in ecstasy, your gentle fingers wrapping around his wrist tenderly as you lifted his hand to your mouth, licking his release from his skin as he watched, cock twitching as the feeling of your tongue working over his slender fingers.

“Christ, you’re the filthiest thing I have ever seen.” He whispered, your hand reaching down to pump him, still coated in your juices, your core fluttering and aching for another release. Kicking off his sweats, he picked you up from the counter, swinging you over his shoulder and planting a loud smack on your ass as you giggled, watching him make his way towards the stairs.

One thing was for sure, you knew you’d always be here to look after Diego Hargreeves, and he’d always be here to look after you.

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy #tua #david castaneda #david castaneda x reader #diego hargreeves fic #diego hargreeves smut #diego hargreeves fluff #the umbrella academy fic #diego #david castaneda smut #david castaneda fluff #david castaneda the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #five

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diegoh4rgreeves · 5 years

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Innocent

Headcanon: Reverse cowgirling Diego and he spanks your cute bottom and tells you that you seemed so innocent when you first met.

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves smut #diego hargreeves imagine #david castaneda smut #david castaneda imagine #david castaneda x reader #david castaneda #david casteñeda #tua diego #tua imagine #tua smut #tua #tua fanfic #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy smut #the umbrella academy imagine #mine

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cravetive · 4 years

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many won’t| Diego Hargreeves

Author: @cravetive

word count: 1,297

Notes: starting this page after not writing for a very long time, feels so good to come back, hope you guys enjoy.

Warnings: Slight Smut, casual swearing.

working for Elliot had always been unusual, you had watched your boss go from a successful television seller to a maniac men with wild conspiracies about people falling from the sky, the residents from town just speculated he had gone mad from not being able to fit in his father shoe’s but you saw beyond that, you knew Elliot was kind and special, maybe sometimes crazy but he always had good intentions.

you had made sure to visit after the store had closed down, always dropping by with meals your mother had made or with gossip about the town. he rarely ever listened as his focus was always at the alley way but you would come anyways just to check on him. you would listen to his conspiracies and study his bulletin board and sometimes in rare occasions they would make sense to you too.

your mother had begged for you to stay away, she would argue that a young lady shouldn’t be around crazy men but Elliot was a friend and all he needed was the correct guidance.

one day as you stepped into the dusty building you found Elliot arguing with a boy, he was in a private school uniform but he held his composure like a men of age, you had set the warm meal down and had gone to investigate, afraid Elliot had gone too far now, involving a child in his conspiracies.

you soon learned that the boy was five a time traveler who was actually 58 years old, that had taken a toll on you mentally, soon enough the rest of his siblings had rolled in and you had marked a permanent stay in Elliot’s store, making warm meals for the gang as they fought off the apocalypse and Elliot’s gelatin obsession.

the scuffled man had caught your attention since the first day you met him, he made you feel things a lady from this part of town shouldn’t feel, on some nights you would stay extra late just to watch him obsess over the presidents assassination, you found his devotion to being a hero heart warming and his passion sexy. once you would get home you would touch yourself to his image, his name escaping your lips as you worked yourself to climax, something you had never done before.

“Y/N?” you snapped back to the room as your mind wondered about him, you cleared your throat “yes” you began fixing your skirt “dinner is ready” you giggled sweetly, the whole gang was there, the date was getting closer and five was frantic to find a solution. Diego looked more disgruntled then usual, his long locks hanging in front of his features, a knife hanging between his fingers.

“Y/n seems distracted” five mocked, your cheeks grew red quickly “come on leave her alone” Allison began, she hurried by your side and patted your shoulder “let’s thank her for another amazing meal” she smiled. “oh well thank you madam” Klaus slurred from the love seat in the middle of the room.

“a coffee is fine for me” five huffed, quickly walking towards the bulletin board “you will have to eat something mr. five” you remarked making him scoff “well i don’t know about you guys but im ready to eat” Luther almost ran to the table scooping food onto his plate, everyone else joined him except for Diego, he shrugged and walked into Elliot’s bedroom.

you knew you weren’t his type, you were shy and reserved and maybe he liked something else you assured yourself. “you should go after him” klaus whispered into your ear making you jump lightly “oh” you looked back “no” you scoffed a nervous laugh falling from your lips “that wouldn’t be prudent” you explained “Y/N fuck being prudent, i see how you undress him with your eyes” Klaus shoved you slightly towards the door, you sighed and took off your apron and looked around to see if anyone was looking but they were all too focused on their meal.

you almost skipped into the room, your heart beating out of your chest. you entered, closing the door quietly behind you “Diego” you spoke, your voice shaky. “sorry Y/N im sure the food is great but i dont have much of an appetite” you nodded walking closer to his slumped position against the bed frame “i guess most heroes cant take time in the middle of saving the day to eat a meal” you joked.

he chuckled slightly making a smile appear on your lips, he sat up slightly “whats on your mind?” you began “i heard i’m a great listener” he nodded agreeing with the statement “i’m meeting with my father soon, i want to show him how good of a hero i am” he confessed, you sat besides him placing your shaky hands on top of his “i know he will be so proud of you” you assured.

“why are you so shaky?” he questioned, concern written all over him, he sat closer, making you even more nervous. “oh, nothing” you whimpered, your voice raising “is something wrong?” he looked into your eyes, his hand traveling to your arm, his palm rubbing against your skin trying to soothe you, you closed your eyes for a moment, your gut growing heavy “oh the things you do mr. diego” you looked into his eyes as he furrowed his eyebrows, you leaned in slowly as if leaving room for rejection.

your lips met with his, you slipped your hands onto his cheeks as you climbed over his lap, his hands soon traveled onto the bottom of your skirt raising it a tad bit exposing your stockings, you moved your hips against his, soon feeling his groin through the clothes separating you from him. you both moaned in unison

“i’ve watched you” you commented in between kisses “wanted you” you continued, he kissed down your neck, whimpers falling from your lips “i did too” he confessed, you both stopped, looking at one another. “why did you never say anything?” you asked kind of mad that you could have been doing this sooner, now time was ticking until he went back to 2019.

“i didn’t think y-you l-liked me” he stuttered nervously, you giggled and kissed him once again “i thought the same” you muttered, he pushed you onto the bed, leaving trails of kisses on your skin, he riped your blouse open causing you to gasp, he left wet kisses on your chest, his fingers going under your bra and playing with your hard nipples, his mouth traveled all the way down to the material of your skirt, he undid the button from the back with a skill that only a man who had watched you the entire day would know how to undo.

your panties were soaking and you just wanted him already, everywhere and yet only in between your legs all at once. before you could moan out his name, Luther stormed into the room, leaving you exposed to the people standing outside “Great food-” he began before halting into silence. “dear Jesus Christ” Elliot exclaimed “i had something like that with a mannequin once” five commented before returning his eyes back to the bulletin board, you sat up quickly pushing Diego away from you, your skirt loosely hanging on your hips. “oh hell yes” Klaus cheered, raising a bottle of rum in the air.

Diego stood up and pushed Luther out the room before slamming the door shut, you both looked at each other before bursting into laughter, you both collapsed onto the bed, staring at each other in a haze “do you think this is crazy?” you asked, a sigh leaving your lips “us?” you continued. “most won’t” he smiled before taking your lips into his.

#diego hargreeves #the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves smut #diego hargreeves au #diego hargreeves imagine #david castañeda #david castaneda icons

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trickkombowerskru · 4 years

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Diego Getting Pegged

Request: Anonymous: Could you please write Diego Hargreeves getting pegged! I love your writing!

A/N:Thank you for being so damn patient with me my dude. I am so sorry this took this long… especially since this request happened in the midst of the last shipping event 💕

Warnings: NSFW, Smut

Okay here's the deal

Diego while he can be a switch

Would be very apprehensive about the whole thing

So it would definitely have to be quite a few months into your relationship

It's not that he wasn't subby

Because he definitely did have some subbier qualities that came out when

you topped

But he was just nervous about the entire thing and how it would go down

Like I'm talking slowly prepping him for MONTHS

Starting with a finger one time

And slowly working your way up to more

Before it's finally time to happen

He's been nice and stretched before

So he is now used to the feeling

And DAMN

Honestly when you start

You can't see them

But there are stars in his eye

This is a type of pleasure he never knew he needed until now

And needless to say since you both find it hot

Diego actually taking joy in being full on subby

And giving you that control

And you in taking said control

And the fucking noises that come out of that man's mouth are like Godsent

So yeah it's a good time

And it becomes an occasional staple in the bedroom after that

#the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves imagine #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves smut #david castaneda

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vivid4am · 5 years

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I’m Sick | Diego Hargreeves Headcanons #3

Requested: For Diego request - how about Diego taking care of sick female reader headcanons?

Diego x Female Reader

Warnings: Language plus domestic!diego

so, tuesday morning you wake up feeling like absolute shit.

literal shit.

your head feels like it’s been hit by a ton of bricks

your stomach feels like the sinking titanic

you have this horrible ass cough

this all came out of nowhere

you might’ve gotten it from someone at work

you groan extremely loudly

and you wake diego up

instantly goes into caretaker mode

“baby, are you okay?”

“nO.” your voice fucking cRACKS

he gets concerned and puts his hand on your forehead

“baby, you’re sick.” he states

you’re already so miserable from feeling like this that you go

“no shIT shERLOCK.”

diego knows you get snappy when your sick n such

he sucks it up n stuff and gets out of bed

he makes you take a shower, a hot one

“the steam should help with your stuffy nose and your throat.”

while you’re in the shower, diego leaves the apartment to go to the store

he grabs soup, saltine crackers, ginger ale, all the stuff that grace would get when he was sick as a child

when he comes back, he immediately calls work for you, informing them that you’re not coming in.

you had just came out of your room dressed for work

“i just called them about you staying home.”

“but-”

“nope! you’re staying home.”

you huff and go back into your room

you change into shorts and a one of diego’s t-shirts

literally fling yourself on the bed

diego comes in with ginger ale and medicine for you

“i don’t wanna!”

“but you’re gonna!”

“uGH! IM DYING”

“not on my watch, princesa.”

you smile at that

you reluctantly take the medicine

diego places a kiss on your forehead because he’s proud that you took it bc you hate taking medicine

“nO BESOS! IM SICK, STUPID!”

“d-did you just speak spanish to me?”

“yes, yes i did. got a problem?”

“yes. that was fucking hot.”

“can you wait to get horny when i’m not sick?”

you and him lay down on the bed and link pinkies.

around noon he gets up to make you soup.

comes back with a piping hot bowl of chicken noodle and saltine crackers!

plus a new cup of ginger ale!

you’re all happy bc like food!

he puts on netflix and you guys watch OITNB

“i’m all for lesbian sex!”

“does that me-”

“no, diego.”

you finished your food and start to get tired

he pulls you into him

“i’m going to get you sick, diego.”

“i don’t care, i just wanna hold you.”

“stop being cute, dammit.”

you fall asleep

he falls asleep too

literally sleep for 15 fucking hours

you wake up feeling better

but hear a groan from diego

“im fucking sick!”

“I TOLD YOU!”

the next day is basically you taking care of him.

#diego hargreeves fanfic #diego hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy #tua #aidan gallagher #number five #five hargreeves #number two #vanya hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #david castaneda #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #smut #fluff #angst

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spideytights · 5 years

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Sucker

Diego Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: It was a bad idea but you couldn’t help but fall under his spell. You gave in to easy and it’s hard for you to let go

Warnings: smut 18+ please, more semi-smut, mature, female receiving oral, fingering, mentions of past sex, dom!male, foreshadow to punishment ( you’ll miss it if you blink)

Words: 1.1k+

A/N: So like bare with me guys, this is kind of like my first smut. It is on here but I tried my best so I hope that your guys like it. Maybe a part two in the future??

This is named after the song Sucker by the Jonas brothers. It’s loosely based on that song.

God, it was wrong. It was wrong and you knew it, you knew it was wrong since the beginning. Way before it even happened, you knew what the outcome would be but that didn’t stop you from doing it at all. That didn’t stop you from making the nonverbal deal with the man you couldn’t stop thinking about. The very thought of him could make you spread your legs wide and apart like an art easel waiting to have the blank white canvas on it painted by an artist and their paintbrush. All you thought about was his eyes and how they were your favorite pair of eyes even though millions of others had the same color. His facial features, the way his chin was littered with facial hair but it wasn’t overly grown or too short, it was only scruff but it fit him so perfectly. The scar that he had left you in wonder and when you asked him about it he never gave you a direct answer, but you still admired it because it was his battle scar. His lips, they were soft when you ran the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip right before you kissed them. And when you kissed, it was your favorite feeling in the world—for your lips to graze across hid and slightly suck on when you did kiss. His built body, it was undeniably perfect to you; his tan skin and the lighter parts where the scars were, his body was like a work of art. His hands, they were bigger than yours but you didn’t mind, you loved the way yours would fit into his when they were pressed down into the mattress as he pounded into you. When his hands would travel, it was like he would make a trail of wonders in their wake as they travel up and down your body; especially the parts that became over sensitive the more heated the moment got. The way he would touch set your body on fire, it made you feel like your skin was burning and only the ghost of his fingertips could cool it down. You were like a forest fire and he was able to make you into running water, so vulnerable at the surface.

No matter how wrong it was and how wrong you knew it was, you couldn't help but fall under his spell. You were a sucker for him. And now like many times before, you were under him, like an open map, letting him follow the trails of your body–you were not getting over him. His lips and tongue tracing the familiar paths leading to the temple. His fingers ghost down your sides, past your hips, and to your thighs, making you shiver in delight at his feathery touch. Your body responded well with his movements, like now when his lips travel dangerously low at your hip bones and his teeth nibble just enough to send a shock up your spine. You gasp softly getting more and more lost with the way his lips moved. Before his lips could even lay the first kiss down where you want them, your legs split apart out of habit. They first kiss the inside of your thigh so lovingly, trailing up to where you want him the most, where you need him the most. Your core is throbbing the closer his heated kisses get, you can feel the slickness building up and dripping as you felt his mouth near. Nevermind you goal in staying quiet because once his tongue licks a stride, you’re a goner. You smile lightly once you got what you wanted, throwing your head back against the duvet under you. Arching your body like a hill when his lips attach to your clit and suck on it before plunging his tongue in you again. He made you sound like an animal, but you loved it and he did too. It makes you want to split in half at how good it feels like he was your drug and all you wanted to do was chase the high. He doesn’t dare leave a single part of your cunt untouched. His licks intensify the louder you moan and the more you moan out his name. His name was a prayer and the praise went straight to his head and to his cock.

You got so lost with the movements of his tongue that you didn't notice the movement of his hand moving to your core. You did notice when he plunges two fingers into your warm cunt; the swiftness caused you to gasped loudly but the moan that followed eased his doubting thoughts. He began thrusting his fingers faster and faster and you felt every bit of it. Your high was creeping up faster than you had thought; but it felt so damn good to feel his fingers in you, his mouth on you, the wet noises that were coming from him fingering your cunt.

“How good do you feel,” the words fell out of his mouth with ease, his eyes were already looking up at you; searching your face and waiting for your response. All you could do was let out a loud moan as he continued to finger fuck you, but the words slipped out of your mouth with fast and easy.

“Yes, yes, it feels so good,” you moaned, which left him satisfied.

“And who makes you feel like this?” he asked you, but you were left speechless because his tongue had you lost for words, a matter of fact, his tongue made you forget what language to speak in

“Y-you do. God Diego, I'm so close, please don’t stop,” the words came out almost like a cry, but you both knew it was a plea. His fingers brushed against the one spot that brought you the high that was intense. He added another finger, plunging deeper with the curl of his three fingers, bring you closer and closer to an orgasm; you could let go any minute.

“Don’t you dare cum unless I say,” but it was already too late. An orgasm hit you like a train and your pussy leaked of your juices all over his fingers. Your back was arched so hard that it could have people worried. The moan you let out was more of a scream–hopefully, your neighbors would ignore it–and your breath was heavy. When you realize your body against the bed, you didn’t dare look at Diego until your breath was somewhat calm and you built up enough courage to look at the man. His face was hardened with an annoyed almost angry look.

You should have probably been scared, but you knew what was coming and it excited you. You knew it was bad to mess around with Diego because of how dangerous his lifestyle was, but the one thing you can admit to yourself was that you’re a sucker for him.

Taglist: Let Me Know If You Want To Be Tag In My Future Writings :)

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy #tua #diego hargreeves smut #david castaneda

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chyteawrites · 5 years

Text

Torn: Chapter 7

Story Summary: You start work as a make-up artist for The Umbrella Academy and meet two of the most handsome people you’ve ever worked with, both of them vying for your attention.

Chapter Summary: While Rachel is out with Robbie, David keeps you company at the apartment and things go from innocent to steamy.

Chapter 7/?

Word Count: 2,325

Pairing: David Castañeda x Reader

Warnings: Smutty smut smut. Don’t read at work or in church, kids.

A/N: I literally love every single one of you that has asked to be added to my tag list since I started this series. I hope you guys enjoy this latest (and longest) chapter.

Tags: @superapplepie @diianawonka @spacearttraveler @ynm1505 @stardust181 @loulouloueh @reblogserpent @karlitabi-rrito (Tag list is always open!)

“How do I look?” Rachel asked as she fiddled with her necklaces.

“Beautiful. And if Robert doesn’t think so, I’ll knock some sense into him.” I chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Have fun, but be safe.” I said and patted her arm.

“Same goes for you.” She smiled.

“Not a problem, babe. I’m doing a quiet night in. Pigging out and watching movies. I need a break.” I chuckled and plopped down onto the couch.

“Have fun.” She giggled and kissed my cheek before running out the door.

I pulled up Netflix and started an episode of Sons of Anarchy since I was halfway through season three. Half an episode in, my phone started ringing, David’s contact picture lighting up my screen.

“Well, hello. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you tonight.” I answered as I wrapped myself in my blanket.

“I wasn’t sure you’d answer.” David chuckled on the other line. “You busy?” He asked nervously.

“Not terribly. I’m just curled up on the couch, eating Oreos, and watching Sons of Anarchy on Netflix. You wanna join?” I replied with my own question.

“You wouldn’t mind? I don’t want to bother you.” He mumbled.

“If you’re downstairs, get your ass up here. If you’re not, get over here before I change my mind.” I chuckled and hung up. Something in my gut told me he wasn’t far from the apartment. Not even a minute after I hung up, there was a soft rap on the door.

“It’s unlocked!” I called, not wanting to move from the nest I’d made myself. I heard the door open and shut, his shoes padding the floor. Then I felt his lips press gently to my forehead, causing me to smile wide.

“Hey.” David whispered as I looked up at him. I reached up and caressed his cheek, his face leaning into my touch.

“Hey, handsome.” I cooed and pecked his lips. “Sit. Cover up and have some Oreos.” I said, patting the couch. I moved my blankets so he could sit and watch the show with me. I curled into the crook of his arm and rested my head on his chest.

“I can’t imagine a better way to spend a night off.” He crooned, his fingers twirling my hair.

“And I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather spend tonight with.” I murmured. I grabbed the blankets and curled closer to him, wrapping us up.

“I have got to be one of the luckiest men alive right now.” He crooned; his lips pressed against my forehead.

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

“I met you.” He smiled and lifted my chin, kissing me gently.

“You’re too sweet.” I whispered, running my fingers through his hair.

“I mean it. I was lucky enough to get this job, but then I got to meet the cast. And you. You make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time.” David said. Then he kissed me again. Deep and passionate.

“I was lucky to meet you too.” I heaved after the kiss broke.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered and kissed me again, both hands cupping my face. My body leaned in instinctively and I reached, my hand resting on the back of his neck as I kissed him. “You keep kissing me like that and I don’t know if I could keep myself from…” He muttered as he broke the kiss.

“Do it.” I panted and kissed him again before arranging myself to straddle his lap.

“Are you sure? It would change everything.” His brown eyes locked with mine as he asked.

“I’m sure. Unless you’re not.” I said and bit my lip.

“I’m sure. More than sure.” He whispered and kissed me again, his hands sliding under my shirt. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he kissed and grabbed my waist.

“Ugh I’m so stupid. Can you believe that I didn’t realize I left my keys until I was halfway to the restaurant? Classic…” Rachel rambled as she walked in the door as he threw my shirt off.

“Shit.” I muttered and buried my face in his neck.

“Quiet night in, huh?” She chuckled and grabbed her keys. “Have fuuuuun!” She sang as she closed and locked the door.

“I forgot to lock the door after you came in. Shitshitshit.” I mumbled and leaned against him. “What a way to kill the mood.” I huffed.

“Are you kidding? Just made me want you more.” David chuckled and rubbed my back.

“We should move to my room. Just in case she forgets her earrings or something.” I sighed and kissed his neck.

“If you kiss my neck again, I’m not going to give you a chance to move.” He whispered and gabbed my waist, moving my hips slowly.

“At least let me go grab something from my room.” I told him between kisses, catching his lip between my teeth.

“Don’t take too long.” He chuckled and patted my ass. I got up and walked away with a sway in my hips, looking over my shoulder and smirking as I disappeared down the hall.

I walked into my room and got into the stand next to my bed, opening the box of condoms I’d brought with me to Toronto for situations like this. I grabbed one before stripping out of my pajama pants and changing into the matching panties to my black bra. I looked myself over in the mirror and slid the condom into my bra before walking back out to the living room. I let out a whistle to get his attention and saw him stand up and walk over to me. He grabbed my waist and pulled my body against his before kissing me hard.

“Fuck.” David groaned and panted. “You look so good.” He muttered and kissed my neck.

“And you’re overdressed. I believe I told you I was going to show you how much I love your tattoos.” I purred and pulled away as I bit my lip. I watched him strip his shirt, all of his tattoos on display.

“Such beautiful ink on such a handsome man.” I said and bit my lip.

“Then get over here.” He almost growled and looked me over. I walked over and as soon as he could, his hands were on my waist as I started tracing over the tattoos on his ribs and kissing his neck. I started kissing over the tattoo on his collarbone as I tugged gently at his nipple ring, smirking as he moaned.

“You know, that might be one of the sexiest things I’ve seen in a long time.” I whispered in his ear. “Is it bad that ever since I did the work on you earlier, all I’ve wanted to do is be like this with you?” I asked against his neck.

“Only if it’s bad that I was thinking about the same thing.” David whispered and lifted my chin to kiss me.

“C’mon.” I murmured and grabbed his hand, leading him to my room. I shut the door behind us and kissed him hard, his hands pulling at my hips.

“You’re absolutely sure?” He asked quietly against my lips.

“One hundred percent.” I replied, pulling the condom I’d grabbed out of my bra with a smirk. He smiled back at me and cupped my face, kissing me as we walked backward toward the bed.

Both of us tumbled onto the bed, causing us to laugh as he fell beside me. He kissed my neck before standing up and I propped myself up to watch him. I watched as he stripped off his pants, his cock springing free. I bit my lip as I wrapped a hand around him, his moans filling the room as I stroked him gently.

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath as I rolled the condom down his length. I stood up and unhooked my bra in front of him, holding it on my finger and looking at him as I let it fall to the floor.

David picked me up and laid me on the bed, his lips travelling down my neck before kissing my breasts, rolling one nipple between his fingers. I felt heat spread through my body as he took the other nipple and sucked it gently before pulling away and kissing down my stomach and kneeling in front of me. His fingers looped through the waistband of my underwear before he pulled them down gently, throwing them into the growing pile of our clothes on my floor.

“David…” I moaned quietly and ran my hand through his hair as he kissed my inner thigh.

“Ssshhh.” David whispered. I went to speak again before he kissed over my aching center. His lips felt like velvet as he wrapped them around my clit, his tongue flicking over it rapidly.

I tugged his hair and moaned as he ran his tongue through my folds before fingering me slowly. His long fingers crooked and curled inside me, causing my back to arch. His lips pulled and sucked my clit, causing me to moan as I pulled his hair.

“David.” I panted, my chest heaving as he took my hand.

“Talk to me.” He whispered against my inner thigh.

“Need you.” I whined. I felt him pull away before sitting on the bed.

“C’mere.” He purred as he grabbed my hand. I sat up and positioned myself to straddle his lap.

I kissed him as he started to guide his cock into slowly gasping against my lips. I smirked as he threw his head back and moaned my name as I took his length.

“Jesus Christ.” David muttered, his hands resting on my hips as I kissed his neck and rolled my hips slowly.

“Oh fuck.” I whispered as he kissed me and started controlling the pace of my hips.

David’s hands roamed over my body as he kissed my neck, moaning quietly in my ear. I wrapped my arms around his neck and panted as I started bouncing on his cock, his face buried in my neck. His breath coated my skin as he panted and moaned my name, pulling me impossibly closer.

“You feel so good.” He whispered against my lips.

“Fuck, so do you.” I murmured and kissed him. He grabbed my hips again, his nails almost digging into my skin as he controlled my pace again. The friction between us was heavenly as my hips rolled and he thrusted into me.

He held me close and whispered softly in my ear, moaning as he kissed my neck. I watched his head fall back, his full lips parted as he panted, the sounds coming from him bringing me closer.

“David…” I mumbled, feeling my climax grow closer.

“Do it.” He growled, pressing his forehead to mine and kissing me, biting my lip.

He kept kissing me and moved his lips down to my neck, moaning in my ear. I felt my body shake in his arms as I started to cum around him. My body fell against him as he came shortly after, his breathing shallow as he held me.

“Wow.” I hummed and looked at him hazily after a few minutes.

“Wow indeed.” David chuckled and kissed my temple. “Let’s get cleaned up and then we’ll eat something. Sound good?” He asked and kissed my forehead.

“Perfect.” I cooed and stood up, my legs a little wobbly as I walked to the bathroom. I heard him walk to the half bathroom and sigh, causing me to smile.

I walked out of the bathroom and back into my room, grabbing my pajama pants from earlier. I slipped into them and took a sip of the water bottle by my bed before walking out to the living room, smiling lazily. I saw him sitting on the couch and laid beside him, resting my head in his lap.

“Can I ask you for a favor, beautiful?” He asked and kissed my forehead.

“Shoot.” I murmured as my lashes fluttered.

“Can I crash here tonight? I don’t want to deal with everyone making speculations right now.” He asked.

“Sure. I can sleep on the couch and you take my bed.” I said and grabbed a chip out of the bag on the coffee table.

“Absolutely not. You sleep in the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.” He told me and grabbed one of my chips.

“I have another idea.” I smiled and batted my lashes.

“What is that?” He asked, his eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“We could just share the bed. It’s big enough for the both of us. You won’t have to sleep out here and deal with Rachel when she comes home.” I offered.

“Are you sure?” He muttered and played with my hair.

“Why not? Saves us both some trouble.” I purred and kissed him.

“I might need a little more convincing.” David whispered with a smirk.

“Well, you and I both have the day off tomorrow. I’ll make breakfast before you head out.” I cooed and kissed him again.

“Well, now you’ve got me convinced.” He chuckled and caught my lip between his teeth.

“Good.” I smiled and patted his cheek before letting out a low yawn.

“Getting sleepy?” He said quietly.

“Can you blame me? You wore me out. It’s been a long time since anyone has worn me out like this.” I murmured and yawned again.

“Let’s get you to bed, cariña.” He cooed. I nodded and stood up with him. He kept one arm around my waist as we walked to my bed. I crawled in and patted the bed beside me.

“C’mon.” I muttered sleepily. I smiled as he crawled beside me and laid down. I positioned myself under his arm and laid my head on his chest, immediately relaxed as I felt his even breathing.

“Goodnight, beautiful.” David whispered and kissed the top of my head.

“Goodnight, handsome.” I murmured with a smile before drifting off to sleep.

#chynna writes #torn #torn chapter 7 #torn: chapter 7 #david castenada #david castaneda fanfic #david castaneda x reader #david castaneda fanfiction #david castañeda #david castañeda fanfiction #david castañeda x reader #david castañeda fanfic #Smutty smut smut #much smut very sexy #have some more of my shit writing

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writingsbychlo · 5 years

Text

Sniffles and Sore Throats | Diego Hargreeves

Author: @writingsbychlo

Word Count: 3542

Notes: So, obviously I took inspiration from my own being incredibly ill, and turned it into an absolute fluff-fest for you all. I hope you love it, @mf-despair-queen did and she doesn’t even read for Diego, sooooo...

Warnings: None!

You had been absolutely fine when you’d woken up that morning. In fact, you had been better than fine. You had been great. Having made plans for lunch with your friend, you’d showered, sung your heart out while getting ready and doing your makeup, and put on a cute summer outfit, because you were feeling good - without even a sneeze, a sniffle or a microscopic itch in your throat that could cause a cough.

None of it.

And yet, twenty minutes after getting back in from the day, you’d sneezed. Brushing it off as pollen, you’d moved on. Forty minutes after getting back, your throat was slightly sore when you swallowed and you wanted to cough. An hour after getting back, your nose was streaming.

Now, laying on your couch at almost nine o’clock in the evening, you were uncomfortably sweating but cold, clammy, and irritated at the same time. Your nose was red from all the rubbing and tissues, sore and blocked no matter how many times you blew it. Your throat was sore and aching, no matter how many hot drinks infused with honey or lemon you sipped on, and your head was pounding.

Your eyes felt like they were being pushed from your skull and any time you stood up, you felt like your body was being dragged into the ground, as if gravity had somehow gotten infinitely stronger, your feet barely even able to move. With a huff, you shut off the tv, rubbing at your temples and thanking whatever deities may be watching that you didn’t have a headache. Not yet, anyway.

“Touch wood," You muttered, banging your fingers gently against the coffee table beside you, and trying to suppress the violent cough you could feel bubbling up inside of your lungs, knowing it would only worsen your situation drastically. When the door opened, shuffling being heard in the corridor as Diego kicked off his shoes, you rolled over, burying your face in the cushions of the couch and pulling the blanket up to your chin.

Mumbling a barely audible response to his greeting, you listened as he walked around the apartment, instinctually checking all of the locks and seals on the doors and windows, as he always did. “Hey baby, how did lunch go?” His tone was far too positive for you, and he reached out to you, a hand on your shoulder as he rolled you over lightly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead before recoiling slightly, eyebrows raised. “Christ, baby, you look awful. What happened?”

Putting down the plastic bag in his hands, he sat beside you, tugging you up reluctantly by one of your hands as his palm found your forehead, before settling on your cheek, thumb running over your skin soothingly. “M’ sick.” You muttered, wishing just to collapse back into your pile of blankets, but Diego had a different idea as he kept you upright, a chuckle leaving his lips.

“Yeah, you don’t say.” Holding both of your hands, he pulled you limply to your feet, and your knees buckled slightly as he scooped you up, grabbing the plastic bag as he went and holding you gently, your head lolling onto his shoulder as you gripped his arm lightly, giving his bicep the best squeeze you could, in acknowledgment.

Navigating gently through your shared apartment, he placed you down on the large bathroom counter beside the sink, a sigh leaving your lips as the cool marble met your legs, goosebumps running over your skin as you shivered.

“You want my hoodie?” He tugged the item over his head, handing it to you but you shook your head, just letting it sit on your lap as your eyes closed. Leaning back against the wall, you let out a sigh as your skin met the cold plaster, his eyes watching you as his lips curled up in a slight smile. “Nice and cool?”

“Mhm, lovely.” Opening the plastic bag, he pulled out several cardboard boxes, a sad smile rising to your lips as you shuffled on the counter. “You brought chinese? M’ sorry.” The words left your mouth and he stopped opening boxes, eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at you, lips pursed.

“What, for getting sick? Not your fault, baby. Just means you should have the whole carton of chicken noodles and dumplings, instead. I’ll have your rice.” You’re heart swelled as he smiled, pressing a kiss to your clammy forehead. Leaving the boxes open for steam to escape, he turned on the taps of the bath, plugging it and letting the water splash against the basin, filling it rapidly.

Crouching before you, he looped his fingers into the elastics of your fluffy socks, pulling them from your foot and dropping it into the laundry hamper, switching to the other moments later and doing the same. With hands on your waist, he lifted you to the ground gently, tugging the oversized t-shirt up and off of your arms, a huff leaving his lips as he pouted at you.

“Now you should be sorry. I can’t believe you’re wearing my favourite underwear and you’re too sick to fuck," He joked, and you weakly shoved at his chest, shaking your head with a soft grin.

“Was planning on us having more fun tonight when I put them on this morning. This was not how I anticipated the day going,” You whined, and he simply grinned at you, fingers of one hand spreading out over your hip as the others danced up to the clasp. He leaned in, lips by your ear as he growled lightly, undoing the clasp as the support came loose.

“Maybe next time.” His breath fanned over your skin and you shivered, letting him pull back and remove the item, dropping to his knees before you as your hands landed on his shoulders to balance yourself, letting him tug the matching panties away, leaving you exposed as you waved your arms, shaking the stress and stuffiness from your body.

Stepping away, he swirled a hand through the bath water, deeming it ready and warm, before taking a bottle from the rack and unscrewing the top to sniff at the contents inside. Spilling a generous amount of the liquid into the tub, he put it back in it’s correct place on the shelf, swirling the water until the room filled with the scent of lavender and honey, bubbles rising in surplus from the water’s surface.

Standing, he rooted around in the cabinet, pulling a small brown bottle from inside and releasing a few cautious drops into the mix, before putting it on the counter for later. “The olbas oil and the steam will really clear up your airways.” He confirmed, holding a hand out to you and helping you step into the water, watching as you took a seat and stretched your legs out. Rolling your head from side to side, you enjoyed the tension leaving your muscles at the exposure to heat.

Removing your hands from beneath the water, you sat up slightly, shaking your hands dryer of loose droplets and accepting the box Diego was handing you, and the pair of chopsticks. The food was still very hot, but it didn’t burn you to hold, and it wouldn’t be too hot as you ate it, and the thought crossed your mind that it may have been an accident, or did Diego just know to let it cool this much to help you? Either way, he was still giving his all, laying his own food on the edge of the bathtub, placing the other boxes around you both but within reach.

Unclipping the fastens on his harness, the heavy utilities dropped to the tiled floor and he kicked them away into the corner, tugging off his socks. With a hand over his head, he pulled the henley off and away from his body, throwing it in the direction of the hamper. Scanning your eyes over his torso, you could see the faint scratches and bruises on his abdomen and chest, a frown on your lips as you reached your fingers out to him, and he stepped forwards.

Brushing your fingers over a bruise faintly, you felt his muscles twitch under your touch, but he didn’t flinch away, and you retract your hand as he undid his belt buckle, smiling down at you. “Doesn’t hurt, I’m okay. More worried ‘bout you.” He dropped his pants and underwear to the floor, kicking them away from him and stepping into the water opposite you, his feet coming to rest on one side of your hips, and he reached under the water, lifting your feet onto his thighs so you were more comfortable.

Grabbing his own food, he tucked in hungrily, a smile on his lips as he finally got some food in his system, and you poked around in your meal, picking out a particularly fat dumpling and extracting it, holding it out to him. With a grateful nod, he took the squishy object between his own chopsticks, quickly bringing it to his mouth and taking the whole thing in one bite, cheeks puffed out as he let out a little moan in happiness.

“I love our local chinese restaurant, I really do.” You simply nodded in agreement, letting out a hum as you sucked up chicken noodles, trying to make the meal last, but it was so good, and you hadn’t even realised you were this hungry until this exact moment, your body thanking you.

Upon finishing your food, you discarded the box on the floor outside of the tub, sinking further into the water and closing your eyes. Finding your calves under the water, he rubbed at your legs gently, massaging the muscles he could reach, before retreating back to your feet, pressing his thumbs firmly into the arch of your left foot as your toes stretched out happily before curling inwards, letting him repeat his ministrations.

“You good, baby?” You merely nodded, relaxing as he switched feet and removed all the tension from your body until you were fully relaxed, head lolled back. You were putty in this man’s arms, and there was no one you loved or trusted more to take care of you. Watching you, he admired the way he could put you at ease. Your features weren’t scrunched up in pain like they were when he found you earlier, they were now at peace and easy, and the realisation he’d done that for you warmed his heart.

If you’d told Diego two years ago that he would be loving someone this much, that he would be this devoted to someone, he would’ve laughed at the idea and mocked. Now, though, he was utterly adoring. You loved him for every last little bit of him. Every cut you had patched up late at night and every word he had stuttered over in the first few months, even still, if he was having a particularly bad day.

He was irrevocably, life changingly, head over heels in love with you, and he knew he’d never quite love anyone else this much.

“I l-love you.”

“Love you, Di.”

Your eyes snapped up to meet one another’s, a smirk on his lips as your jaw hung open slightly, both your eyebrows raised at the odd event that had just taken place. With a laugh, you leaned forwards, finding his hands under the water and linking your fingers with his, chin resting on the tops of your knees as you just simply looked at one another, taking all of the other in.

Shuffling, the water slopped over the edges slightly as Diego turned your back to him, sitting you between his parted legs, almost pressed to his chest in the confined space. Taking a sponge, he lathered it up, running it slowly over your back and across your arms, before hooking around to the front and ensuring you were clean. The soap from you rubbed across onto him as you leant on him, and it dribbled along his arms from the sponge, cleaning himself of the day’s dirt and filth, too.

“Could sit here all day, with you, just enjoying your company.” You smiled, turning to glance at him over your shoulder and he shook his head, looking away from you to disguise the slight blush riding from his cheeks. Pulling away, he stretched his legs and arms out, hands firmly gripping the sides of the metal basin.

“As much as I love sitting with you in bubble baths until the water goes cold, I don’t think you spending prolonged periods of time cold and wet would be very beneficial to your health right now.” He smiled, lifting himself from the tub and wrapping a towel around his waist, holding one out for you as you lifted yourself up, taking the fluffy material from him and wrapping it tightly around your body, securing it.

Undoing the plug, the water immediately began to drain away, gurgling as it went, and you watched it, doing your best to scoop up empty food boxes and place them in the bin, your tired joints and muscles immediately aching at the exertion as Diego cleaned all your clothes up into the hamper.

With hands on your waist, he turned you to him, leaning you back against the counter for support as he raised a washcloth to your face, using the material to wipe the old smeared and smudged makeup from your features. Using the most delicate touch he could, you reached up, your hand closing over the top of his and squeezing gently as he worked, pouting your lips to press a kiss to his palm as his hand passed over your mouth.

Once he was absolutely sure your face was clean, he took a generous quantity of your nightly moisturiser on his finger, rubbing it into your skin with his thumb and making sure he reached everywhere, even under your chin as you leaned happily into his touch, ignoring the ache in your knees.

Rubbing the rest into his own skin, he took your hand in his, guiding you from the bathroom and down the hall into your shared bedroom where you joyously took a seat on the bed. Rooting through the drawers, he dropped his towel, pulling a pair of sweatpants up his legs and tying them loosely at his waist, before holding a fresh t-shirt over your head, helping you push your hands through the arm holes and push your head through. Pushing your hair away from your forehead, he smoothed it away, pressing his forehead to yours for the briefest moment, before taking both of your towels and hanging them up to dry.

“Feel any better now?” You just nodded at his question, patting the bed beside you and resting your head on his shoulder as he took a seat next to you on the mattress.

“Feel fresh. Clean. Not sweaty and gross.” The words were spoken through a yawn, and you covered your mouth, sniffling and rubbing your nose before swallowed thickly with a wince. “My nose is like, raw. Hurts from blowing it so much. Who knew tissues could do such damage?” You pondered, crawling up the bed and pulling back the covers as you settled in, never feeling so good from your head hitting the pillow as you did in that moment.

Returning and sitting next to you, he uncapped the tube in his hands, rubbing a rather large quantity of the cold liquid on and around your red nose, almost reaching your lips and smearing up your cheeks in a thick layer, barely rubbing it in, just letting it sit. Scrunching up your nose as it stung, you quickly relaxed as it soothed the area, a soft sound leaving your lips as you awed over the cream, and he placed it on your bedside table. “Healing cream. Should make your skin feel better. Works for me," He confirmed, placing a large bottle of water down beside your bed. “Drink all of this during the night. Keep your fluids up.”

Nodding, you suppressed another yawn, turning the light out and letting your eyes finally close for good, the day and this sickness having taken its toll on you. Feeling the mattress behind your back sink as Diego settled in, you shuffled further onto your side, hearing him huff as he moved closer. “You’re not gonna cuddle me, Di?” You mumbled, hearing his movements stop momentarily before a hand wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling your backwards into his chest, his legs tangling with yours.

“Of course I’m going to cuddle you. What kind of stupid question was that?” He settled in behind you, arm wrapped firmly around you, and you rolled over in his grip, nose brushing against his as he looked at you in the dark.

“You’re gonna get sick being this close to me, breathing my germs,” You teased, poking at his chest and he twitched at the contact.

“I’ll hold my breath," He joked, and you rolled your eyes. You both knew he could but that wasn’t the point. He could still get ill, and you knew no matter what, he would still go on his nightly patrols, still box, and only make himself sicker. “You need cuddles more than ever tonight, and if I get sick, so be it,” He whispered, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I’ll take my chances, but no kisses, because then I know I’ll get sick. We both know it won’t be a middle school peck.” You could practically sense the smirk on his face, the glint in his eyes at the statement and you sighed, trying not to smile as the good holding onto you.

“Fine. Cuddle at your own risk," You warned, a tired laugh falling from his lips as he kissed at your forehead and cheeks, before letting you roll back over.

Laying in the silence for a while, his breathing evened out, and you laced your fingers through his, holding onto him tightly. Your head was pounding, the headache finally kicking in as the pressure in your sinuses and behind your eyes became too much. Your throat, however, had been cleared, and your body was so much more relaxed, all thanks to Diego caring for you. “You awake, Di?”

Getting merely a grunt mixed with a snore in response, you rolled over to face him, cupping his peaceful face in your hands. Leaning forwards, you pressed a kiss to his nose, your fingers smoothing over his skin joyfully, taking in all of his relaxed and vulnerable state, realising just how lucky you were to have him in your life.

“God, I hope you want to marry me one day as much as I want to marry you. Don’t know how I’d find someone else after you.” The words were barely audible, and for a while, they just floated off into the silence, minutes passing as your eyes closed, a smile on your lips, hands still resting on Diego’s face, holding him close, as his fingers squeezed at your waist slightly before falling away, shuffling in the dark as you assumed he turned.

Hearing the opening and closing of the drawer of his bedside table, however, you cracked an eye open, his still closed as he flicked the lid of the small box in his hand open, a little light shining down onto the adorned silver band inside. “Trust me, I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout it for a while,” He spoke sleepily. Snapping the box closed again and placing it back in the drawer, closing it as his eyes opened to look at you, adoration swirling within them. “You can’t have that until I come up with the perfect way to ask you. I have plans. I put deposits down. You’re getting a real damn proposal,” He teased, and you shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes and dripping down onto the material of the pillow you were sharing as he wiped them away gently. “At least now I know it's going to be a yes. It is going to be a yes, right?”

“Of course it’s a yes, you fool. I fucking love you,” You cursed, shoving his shoulder before he caught your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and holding it close to his heart, his eyes closing again as he yawned, settling back in to sleep, hand still holding yours.

“Feel so cherished when you put it that way. The aggression: really endearing. You should put that in your vows,” He jabbed, teeth flashing as he laughed quietly, hearing you scoff.

“Oh, shut it,” You whimpered, wiping your face dry.

“Make me.” His statement was more of a plea, and you leaned forwards, fingers under his chin to tilt his head up as your lips found his, moving against his own slowly and languidly, sharing the love between you, showing the other everything, and Diego no longer cared that you’d be getting him sick. That he’d wake up in the morning aching and coughing with you, because he now knew that he could wake up with you every morning, no matter what, and that was far more important to him than one little sickness.

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves fic #diego hargreeves smut #diego hargreeves fluff #diego hargreeves the umbrella academy #david castaneda #david castaneda x reader #david castaneda smut #david castaneda fluff #david castaneda the umbrella academy

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