#david castaneda x reader

[lowkeyrobin]

hiii! hope you’re having a good day/night/whatever :D i was wondering if you could do something where the reader was fives (almost ?) s/o and then after learning about him and lila theyre upset. and then reader and diego sort of bond over the feeling and find solace in their friendship with each other. i mean this in like a thing for diego sort of way, the five thing is just a backstory. sorry if this is hard to understand english is hard

oooo okay this is cool!! ; and don't worry it's not hard to understand at all! your English is very good 🫶 ; but we are gonna pretend five wasn't trapped in his teenage body for all the time reader would've known him or wtv 💀 cause the physical and mental gap between diego and five is diabolical and idk how else to make it not weird. I usually say and enforce that I won't recognize the five/lila thing as canon but this is relevant to the story and I need diego requests lol. ; but uh yeah!! thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! ; also the ending part lowkey sucks I'm sorry

DIEGO HARGREEVES ; it's called moving on

summary ; after Five and Lila get trapped in the subway, they have a double affair on you and Diego. after saving the world, you both bond over it and move on (to each other)

warnings ; language, cheating, arguing / physical fighting, knives, alcohol

disclaimers ; five is in the physical body of a 30-ish year old to make this not creepy as hell on any parts. I have a distinct hatred for whatever tf happened w Lila and Five so don't expect to see anything nice about them... ; also reader is a sparrow, didn't wanna get incest-y in here...

word count ; 1.5k

masterlist

Klaus, Allison, and Luther sit on the couch, watching over the kids while you and Diego rush to the door. Five and Lila had been MIA for hours now, you were both growing worried. Luckily, it was them standing at the doorstep.

"Where've you been?" Diego asks, slightly worried. "It's been hours"

"Seven, at that" you raise an eyebrow at Five. "You've never just gone MIA for that long. Did you find anything out on how to stop all this shit? Cause we did"

Five is unable to look you in the eye. "Uh, not really. What'd you learn?"

"Well, for one, Dad's alive, so is our mother... I think?" you begin, pulling him inside. "She's not really our mom, but she's Dad's wife, or whatever. Our actual birth mother's are alive in this timeline. And your Ben died because your Reginald shot him in the head! We think fate is coming together cause my Ben and Jennifer are together and we have to stop them-"

Diego and Lila step in behind you, joining you all in the living room. Lila's family stand in the kitchen, coming together to make some Christmas dinner food for the upcoming days. You can't help but notice both Five and Lila can't look you in the eye, how they look tired and haven't spoken damn near a word.

You four stand in the middle of the living room, shoes off to Lila's family's rules, your socks digging into the carpet. Allison, Luther, and Klaus part their attention between the kids and you four.

Diego looks down at Lila's wrist, seeing a glare from the sunlight outside on something she was wearing. He quickly grabs her wrist, confused of what she could've been wearing, as she didn't like bracelets, at least not store bought ones. She wouldn't have gone on a run to get herself a bracelet, right? I mean, what?

Diego furrows his brows at her while you press a chaste kiss to Five's forehead.

"I thought you hated bracelets?" Diego mutters, grabbing the attention of the siblings who sit on the couch.

Lila looks at him with fake confusion, trying to brush it off. "No, I don't"

"Yeah, you do" Diego nods. "I got you one for Valentine's Day and you traded it in for a Dyson vacuum."

You and Five look to Diego and Lila, listening in.

Lila is silent. "I don't like store bought ones. I kept the bracelet you made for me in that mental institution"

She had him on that one.

"Who made it, then?" Diego asks firmly.

She's silent. Five looks away from Diego.

Diego looks to him, then back at Lila. He frees Lila's wrist from his grasp, staring Five down. You look between him, Diego, and Lila, connecting the dots.

"Five?" You question, eyebrows furrowed, your voice unsure.

Diego reaches for his back pocket.

Five stuffs his hands in his pockets, head held low.

"Is there something going on between you two?" Diego asks nervously, looking between Five and Lila.

"Diego-" Lila speaks

"Holy shit, wow" Diego scoffs, looking down at her.

Klaus' jaw drops, Luther and Allison beside him share shocked expressions. You look back at the three, unable to react as you're caught frozen in the moment.

"Woah"

"Holy shit"

"I didn't see that one coming"

"Holy shit, I was right" Diego looks between the two, "I knew you were cheating on me!"

You shove Five into the wall, far enough away from the TV and the kids to not effect them physically. Diego hurls a knife at him, just missing his skull by a few centimeters, a purposeful act. He merely did it to scare Five. The knife creates a hole in the wall and a loud thudding noise that catches the family's attention.

Diego turns his attention back to Lila, you looking over your shoulder to listen. "I knew you were cheating on me at that book club"

Lila sighs. "I wasn't cheating on you... not when you thought I was"

You turn back to Five, lips slightly parted, your expression soft yet heavy. He isn't able to speak a word to you. He steps away from the stabbed wall, walking toward you. He reaches for you and you push him away.

"Y/n-"

"No!" you shudder, then speak firmly. "Get away." you back away toward Diego, unable to look at him.

"Maybe we should go-" Luther speaks, seeing how the three were witnessing an awful thing right now.

"No, we're not going anywhere" Allison replies, an arm over him to prevent him from going anywhere.

Diego steps forward, looking at Five in the eye. "Five, did you s-k-r-e-w my wife?" he spells out 'screw' since a bunch of kids under thirteen sit no more than six feet away.

"Screw is spelled s-c-r-e-w" Grace chimes in with a smile, unaware of the situation because of her small little mind.

Klaus snorts, failing at holding back laughter. Allison bites her tongue while Luther deeply sighs, keeping his laughter at bay.

Five bites his lip before slowly nodding.

"What the fuck?!" you exclaim, slinging a quick punch to his face, causing his nose to bleed.

He groans, holding a hand to his nose. He doesn't rebute, knowing he deserved that and much more.

"Are you kidding me?" you question, looking between Five and Lila. "What the actual shit is wrong with you two?!"

Lila's family peers through the kitchen door, halfway understanding what you all were saying as they weren't perfectly fluent with English. You wished you could speak Punjabi to tell them how their daughter cheated and how your boyfriend was a fucking homewrecker.

"Y/n, please," Lila speaks, trying to calm you, holding a hand out to you.

You slap her hand away, and back up toward the siblings on the couch. Klaus holds a hand over his mouth, Luther watches in silence, Allison bites her tongue.

"You're fucking unbelievable."

You cut contact with Five, Diego cut most contact with Lila and kept the kids 70% of the time. Lila paid child support, the extent of their conversations other than the kids.

It'd been a few years since your brother had to be killed. You'd been struggling a lot. In between Ben's death and the whole Five and Lila thing, you weren't okay, you didn't think you ever would be.

Most the family didn't talk to either one after the whole incident. They'd luckily sided with you and Diego. Allison still talked to Lila, but she'd created herself a whole new life, so the two didn't talk that much.

Life moves on, shit happens.

You lived near Diego, the two of you often going out with the kids to still create some sort of happy family dynamic for them. From lunch to movies, to road trips and rollercoasters, you'd do anything for those kids. You felt so bad knowing there was no way to repair Diego and Lila's relationship, wishing the kids got to have more time as a proper family.

Diego sat with you on the couch, no kids in trail this time. They were with Lila this weekend. Fruity concoctions rest in your hands, the television in front of you playing some dumbass action movie.

"People clearly don't like three children on the man they're going on a date with," Diego chuckles. "My kids come first, sorry."

You smile. "At least you're humbled and know what you're living for, what's important."

He raises an eyebrow, confused about what you're implying.

You see that look and clarify. "I dunno what I'm living for anymore. My brother's dead. My ex cheated on me and all I feel is fucking angry day in and day out. I don't know anymore"

Diego's face grows soft. "Moving on isn't easy."

You nod. "It's harder to do it alone"

He's silent for a moment before speaking up. "Maybe we don't have to do it alone?"

You raise an eyebrow. "What're you implying, Di?"

He shrugs, looking into your eyes. "Whatever you want to think I'm implying"

"...but the kids, that's gonna be so confusing-"

"You love the kids. I know you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been on all these adventures with us, you wouldn't have asked me yourself to make plans and come over. I know you feel the way I do."

You're both quiet, thinking over your own and the other's words.

"Maybe" you shrug.

"Maybe? I'm allowed to get my hopes up?"

"Calm down, pal" you chuckle. "Not so soon, let's like... ask the kids. I'd feel bad not asking how they felt. They're my priority, they come before us"

Diego nods. "Glad you feel that way. We should get married ASAP." he chuckles, nudging you with his shoulder.

You smile, taking a sip of your beverage. "Feels wrong to even think about this, y'know?"

"It's called moving on. It's normal, I promise"

[hoewkeye]

Hi! I just read some of your first and Wow 🥺❤️

I was wondering if you could do #8[this middle of an adventure, what a great place to start] from your 505 requests with Diego Hargreeves and gn!reader?

Ty❤️❤️❤️

hey, first of all thank you so much <3 and I wanna apologize because I completely missed the “gn” part and wrote with a fem!anatomy 🥺 I hope you like it, though.

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x fem!Reader

Summary: Diego finds you in your way home.

Tags: SMUT, dry humping, public indecency, slightly sub!Diego

Word Count: 353

This is for my i’m going back to 505 party!

———

Bucking his hips against yours, Diego bit his lower lip to contain a devilish grin as he heard your moan. He was now fully hard, his dick pressed against your pussy while he thrust in delightful friction.

Your back was slammed against the cold wall in an empty street, where Diego had found you — coming home from work. His blood was still rushing with adrenaline from a fight he had just come back from, a few bruises on his face. “Nothing to worry about,” he had shoved off before kissing you with hunger.

The rolls of his hips were slow but hard, forcing himself into you like an animal in heat. Miserably searching for any kind of pleasure, biting on your lips and gripping your body like you were his property, his principal object of desire.

In moments like that, when Diego pounded into you roughly, pulling on your hair and sucking on your neck with such lust, you felt like a goddess. Because you knew you were the only one that could drive him crazy, out of control.

“So good for me,” he whispered. “So good. I'm so close, baby—”, your panties were soaked already, the fabric of your denim pants only increasing the friction and making you roll your eyes as shivers ran down your spine.

“Be a good boy and come for me, Diego,” you managed to speak in a low voice, feeling your own orgasm building up. “Come for me, babe.”

He pinned you against the wall harder, his hips completely buried between your legs as he came in his pants. His body trembled, a deep moan leaving his lips as he gave slow, sloppy thrusts.

All you could hear was his uneven breath and the wet sound of his damped pants, still moving against you when the familiar heat took over your body, making your pussy clench around nothing and leaving you shivering under his touch.

You were both flushed, your hair messy and clothes completely crumpled. But when you looked at each other, in the middle of that empty street, you both realized you couldn’t care less.

[blushingbucky]

seven | diego hargreeves

pairing: diego hargreeves x f!reader

word count: 996

summary: oh, to be seven years old again, playing with you in the weeds.

warning: contains minor season two spoilers

author's note: hello everyone! it's been a while, hey. this fic was inspired by Taylor Swift's 'seven', hope you enjoy :)

Please picture me in the trees, I hit my peak at seven feet

In the swing, over the creek, I was too scared to jump in

But I was high in the sky, with Pennsylvania under me

Are there still beautiful things?

Diego didn’t have many happy childhood memories.

He had Grace, beautiful Grace, always there, always a comfort. He had Ben, always there with the science to carry out his wild ideas. Reprogramming Allison’s Teddy Ruxpin was only the beginning of their adventures. And you, best of all. He had you.

Even now, decades and miles away from home, he thinks of you. The only thing mental asylums were good for, thinking and dreaming. He closes his eyes to push past the barriers of distance and time, to wrap his mind around the memory of you. Seven-year-old you, your twin braids and big smile with missing teeth.

Sweet tea in the summer, cross your heart, won't tell no other

And though I can't recall your face, I still got love for you

Your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to Saturn

Passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long

The sound of your war cry comes to him at night (or day, he can’t tell,) chasing imaginary sea monsters with one hand over your eye and the other swinging a stick like a sword. The look on your face when you slipped in the mud, pretty pink skirt blackened with damp earth, and you brushing the dirt off your knees before running off again. The feel of your little hand in his, running away from Grace when she called you back to the Academy.

Your laugh, bubbling from your mouth like water from a bubbler. Your pants, clutching your side with your hands when you’d exhausted yourself from running and climbing and laughter. Was there anything more beautiful than you? Would there ever be another partner-in-crime, co-captain, best friend he could call his? Surely never. There could never be anyone to replace you, his everything. His past, the present, the future he dreamt of.

How all the more crushing it was when you were ripped from him, screaming and begging as your parents shoved you into that car and vanished.

And I've been meaning to tell you, I think your house is haunted

Your dad is always mad and that must be why

And I think you should come live with me and we can be pirates

Then you won’t have to cry or hide in the closet

And just like a folk song, our love will be passed on

He couldn’t hold onto you, hand gripping yours like a lifeline, sweat slipping between your fingers and sliding apart. Reginald’s hand on the back of his collar, ignoring his pleas, your parents trying to coax you away with the promise of new friends in your new town.

You were no fool, not even at seven. “It’s not gonna be the same, Mama.”

Yet still you wondered, “Why can’t he come with us?”

There was only one answer, Reginald’s only excuse: “Number Two needs to focus on his training. He no longer has time for your… frivolous games. He’s missed enough lessons as it is.”

But you, stubborn you, mustered all your courage and spat at his feet through your tears. Looked him right in the eye, and screamed, “His name is Diego, not Number Two!”

And that was it. The final straw. Diego found himself being yanked back, choking against his clothes. Dragged back into the Academy, door slamming shut behind him. The click of the lock audible even to you, and your father led you back to the car, your mother buckled your seatbelt. Foot to the accelerator and you vanished, sobbing and screaming for him in the backseat.

Your tears dried, eventually. His, too. And you both moved on, but never forgot.

Please picture me in the weeds, before I learned civility

I used to scream ferociously any time I wanted

He promised to never forget you, and he kept that promise. For a while, you were a photograph in his pocket that he could look at any time he wished, a mantra to help him survive the missions and training and competition. He clung to your memory, clung as hard as he could. But despite his best efforts, your picture faded over time, colours yellowing, blurry and faded.

You promised to never forget him, and you kept that promise. You could never forget the shy little boy, who stumbled over words but held your hand tight. Who matched your imagination with his own, devising new worlds and stories. That little boy, so desperate to please his father, so desperate to be the best.

Your memory led you to the Academy that day, fingers clinging to a sticky note and eyes staring up at the haunted building. It was because of him, because of your search for him that led you there that fateful day. The day everything changed. The day Five fell too far into the future and couldn’t go back.

Sweet tea in the summer, cross my heart, won't tell no other

And though I can't recall your face, I still got love for you

Diego will never forget the day Five returned, never forget the words that left his brother’s mouth. I found someone in the rubble, Diego. I think she was looking for you.

And he held out that slip of paper with your delicate handwriting, and Diego read your goodbye. I’m so sorry for leaving that day, Diego. I should’ve fought harder for you. Forgive me.

None of his siblings could console him, and he couldn’t reach you in time, couldn’t find you in any hotel and spare room.

You’d slipped through his fingers again, and he lost you for good.

Pack your dolls and a sweater, we’ll move to India forever

Passed down like folk songs, our love lasts so long

[alisonwritesimagines]

Together ~Diego Hargreeves Imagine~

Requested by anonymous:

Summary: You join the Umbrella Academy after both of your parents pass away. Now you are known as number 8 due to your witch like powers. When you join, you never expect to like a certain boy who has great knife skills. 

Author’s Note: I got my Umbrella Academy jacket for my cosplay and I’m so happy. 

You didn’t consider yourself as part of the family. You weren’t raised with them since you were all born. In fact, you felt like you were a replacement after Ben passed away. It was horrible to feel like you were a replacement for their brother. 

“Children. I want you all to welcome number eight,” Reginald announced as you stood next to him in front of seven people. Five were kids your age, one was a chimpanzee, and a beautiful blonde lady. 

“She will be part of our missions. Grace, please show her to her room,” Reginald said.

“Come with me darlin,” the blonde lady said. 

Grace showed you to your room which was next to a girl named Vanya. Luckily, she was the first one to talk to you.

“Hi. I’m Vanya. Or number seven as dad like to say,” Vanya introduced herself.

“I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you Vanya.”

“What can you do? Power wise at least?”

“I have telekinesis, hex bolts, and flight,” you tell her. 

“Can I see?”

“Sure.”

You looked over and lifted your bed a little. Your hands glowed purple as it rose up a little. Vanya was impressed at what you could do. You put the bed down before levitating yourself. You put yourself back down before smiling at Vanya.

“Is this our new sister?” You and Vanya looked over at the side to see another girl your age, standing by the side.

“I don’t really think I’m your sister. I wasn’t raised with you,” you tell her.

“Well either way. I think you’re my sister now,” she smiled.

After the girls left your room, you heard a knock on your door. You walked over to see one of the boys standing there.

“H-Hi,” he said nervously.

“Hi.”

“I-I-I’m Diego.”

“I’m Y/n.”

“I j-j-just want-wanted to say w-welcome,” Diego stuttered.

“Thank you Diego,” you smile. 

“I sh-sh-should let you, un-unpack.”

“Oh okay. Thanks. I hope we can talk a little bit longer later.”

“We w-will.”

You smiled at him before closing your door to hide your blushing. On the other side, Diego facepalmed himself. He embarrassed himself in front of you and it was worst that he stuttered.

“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid,” Diego said.

“Diego. We do not use that kind of negativity,” Grace warned him as she passed by.

“Sorry mom.”

It took a while to warm up to everyone but you eventually did. However, once you did, there was one particular boy you started to like. And that was Diego. 

At first you weren’t sure if you should even like him. Yet again, you never met anyone out of the family unless it was for a mission. It felt wrong but you really did like Diego. 

“Y/n, can I talk to you?” Diego asked. 

“Sure. What is it?” You asked. 

“I need to tell you something and I don’t know how to tell you.”

“What is it?” 

“I really like you, Y/n. Ever since you came and joined us, I have grown to like you more than a sister,” Diego tells you.

“Diego-”

“If you don’t feel the same way, I understand. I just needed you to tell you.”

“Diego, I like you too. But if we’re going to like each other, you can’t see me or think of me as a sister. I don’t even consider myself a sister to your guys,” you tell him.

“Done.”

“But I don’t think we can be with each other. Mr. Hargreeves will be furious. He’ll call it a distraction,” you tell him.

“How about we secretly date? Then when we’re old enough, we can leave this place together?” Diego offered.

“Will that work?”

“I’m willing to try if you are.”

“I am,” you smile. 

It was thrilling to you when you and Diego started to date secretly. Whenever he could, Diego would sneak into your room to give you kisses. You sneaked into Diego’s room sometimes to cuddle whenever you could. 

When you two left the Umbrella Academy, it was like you two were on a honeymoon. Diego finally got to give you the affection that he wanted to give you when you both were at the academy. 

“Y/n, we have to get back to the academy,” Diego tells you as he came back to your shared apartment.

“What? Why?”

“Dad died.”

“Your dad died,” you corrected. 

“We have to go back,” Diego said.

“Alright.” 

“Come on.”

You weren’t sad for Reginald’s death. He wasn’t your father. Then Diego’s other brother, Five, came back from wherever he accidentally disappeared to. 

“So you’re Y/n? Diego’s girlfriend who he ran off with?” Five said to you.

“You’re Five. I’ve heard about you.”

“Same here. At least from Vanya’s book.”

“What can I help you with today?” You asked him.

“Well, in Vanya’s book, she mentioned that you have telekinesis, hex bolts, and flight.”

“Yes?”

“I know this may sound weird but I actually need your help.”

“With what?”

“I think your powers can help stop the apocalypse that’s about to happen,” Five tells you.

“What apocalypse?”

“The apocalypse that’s going to come soon. Now if you can convince Diego to not worry about you as you help me, that would be great,” Five tells you. 

“Fine.”

You walked up to Diego who was in his old room. He looked around to see all the old things that lied around that he left behind. 

“Diego?” He quickly looked over at you as you stood by his door.

“Yeah. What is it?” Diego asked you.

“I wanted to let you know that I have to help out your brother with something.”

“Which one?”

“Five.”

“Whatever he says, he’s probably bluffing.”

“I don’t think he is. Look, you trust me right?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then trust me on this. Look, if it makes you feel better, I will contact you once in a while.”

“Make it once every two hours,” Diego tells you. You nodded at him before giving him a kiss on the lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Be careful okay?”

“I will. And you need to be careful too. You tend to get stubborn sometimes,” you tell him.

“I do not.”

“Yes you do.”

Diego shook his head before giving you a hug and another kiss on the head. 

“I can’t lose you.”

“I know. I can’t lose you either.”

“Just come back to me. Okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

[awesometheydontknowiamhere]

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.

[dreamer-snail]

Me writing Spanish Class in Spanish class because I have little inspiration

I’m writing!

[writingsbychlo]

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.

[chloefranco]

2 a.m. calls

Diego Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: You call Diego in the middle of the night cause you needed him. And also to have cereal. And he proposes. Wow. That's a lot.

It was the third night this week that you've been hearing your parents fighting outside your room. You knew they were going to end up getting a divorce. You were 20 years old and thankfully you won't have to decide who to live with but it still hurts to see your parents separate. They are the first people to show you what love is. And to see them destroy what they had is starting to take a toll on you. You haven't been able to stop crying. Your eyes were starting to hurt by now. You just wanted to be with someone. You didn't want to be alone. Nobody ones to be alone in this situation. So, you called your boyfriend, Diego. He picked up after the second ring.

"What's wrong, baby?" He said. His voice showing that he just woke up.

"Sorry. I woke you up." You said quietly, feeling guilty. You shouldn't be bringing him into your mess.

"No, no. It's okay. Do you want me to come get you?" He said with nothing but love in his voice. It felt nice to hear his voice through the phone. It was enough to not make you feel so alone. But you do want him with you. Just to feel complete.

"Yeah." You said, your voice cracking and the tears start coming. "Could you come stay with me?"

"I'm on the way." He said and he hung up the phone.

You waited for him on the roof outside your bedroom window with two bowls of cereal. It took Diego 5 minutes to get to you. He saw you from the front yard and he climbed up your roof effortlessly since he's done it many times before.

He sat down next to you and you linked your arm with his and leaned your head against it. You closed your eyes and breathed. And you felt him kiss the top of your head. He didn't say anything. You didn't say anything for a while. He didn't have to. He knows about your family issues. He's the only one you've told. He has his own family issues. His dad not being an actual father his whole life. His family is dysfunctional and you don't feel nice calling him up because of your own issues. But he's the sweetest. Even though he has anger issues. But he knows how to control himself around you. And that's why you love him so much. He has a hard exterior but he's really just a teddy bear.

"I didn't want to be alone." You said as a tear rolled down your cheek. He felt your tears on his shirt so he looked at you.

"Hey. I'll always be here. You don't have to go through this alone." He said as he wiped away your tear stained cheeks. He felt his heart break a little bit at the sight of your red eyes.

"I know." You said as he kissed your hand. "I'm thankful for you, Diego."

"I'm the luckiest guy, baby."

"I got you cereal." You said with a smile and Diego chuckled.

"You called me at 2a.m. cause you were alone and wanted me to eat cereal with you?"

"Pretty much." You said as you gave him the bowl. "And I just wanted a reason to be with you. I'm glad you're here."

"I'll only eat cereal at 2 in the morning for you. Now, cheer up, baby." He said as he peppered kisses all around your face.

"I love you, Diego Hargreeves. So much." You said as you kissed cheek.

"You don't know how much I love you. A lot. It's crazy. You make me crazy. In a good way. I love you, (Y/N). And I swear to God, one day I'll marry you." He said as he brought your hand to his lips and he pressed a long kiss on it.

You couldn't keep the smile that was growing on your face. Your heart beating so quick. "Are you proposing to me, Mr.Hargreeves?"

"Will you marry me, baby?" He said as he pulled out the ring that he's been carrying around with him for a month.

He didn't plan to propose to you like this, given the current situation but you already beat him to it. So he thought why not do it now. You felt a millions butterflies flying around in your stomach. He still gives you butterflies even after dating for two years.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his face. "Yes! I love you. I love you, Diego." You said with tears as he chuckled and gently pried you off of him as he placed the ring on your finger.

"I can't believe you made me propose to you."

"No, I didn't. You just have so much love for me. You can't resist me." You said teasingly. "How long have you had this?" You said as you looked at the ring. It was a small diamond but it was perfect. You weren't like the other girls that would throw a fit because it wasn't big.

"A little over a month." He confessed. "Do you like it?"

"I love it. I love you." You said as you brought your face closer to his and closed your eyes. He kissed your nose. "Can you spend the night over with me, tonight?"

"Of course, baby."

You spent the next hour or so eating cereal and talking. Looking at the stars. And you looked over at Diego and felt safe. You felt at home. He was your home. Your safe haven. Life is good as you make it. And he makes life easier. Sometimes you worry you and Diego will end up like your parents. But he's changed your mindset. He's it. The one made for you forever. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

[lowkeyrobin]

DIEGO HARGREEVES ; the house

summary ; yours and diegos last look at the house you were raised in

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; platonic, set in a no-doomsday au where the house was sold after reggies death in 2024, also Reggie wasn't as abusive and the kids had special normal kid core memories cause I want them to have some sort of peace damnit, y/i = your initial

track ; the house that built me, miranda lambert

word count ; 1.1k

masterlist

Colorful Christmas lights hung around the home, just the way Mom would always hang them up. But this year, they weren't hung up by Mom. They were hung up by someone else's mom, someone else's protector, someone else's safe space.

You and Diego stand close together, solemnly walking up the front steps.

The umbrella logo had been removed from the glass front doors, leaving two red, wooden doors in their place. In some of the front windows, you could see fake battery-powered candles and snowflake decals.

Diego knocks on the door, looking in the little window above. A warm light illuminates the front space.

A woman opens the door, unknowing of who you were.

"Hi, can I help you? Are you a friend of Adam?"

"Uh, no" Diego replies. "We used to live here. Uhm..." He looks to you for reassurance.

You turn to the woman. "Can we walk around for just a moment? We never got to say goodbye after our parents passed. I promise we won't take anything other than our memories. Just to feel it, relive it one last time... I just wanna find myself again. This house built us. Our parents died unexpectedly, we couldn't come to even go to the funeral."

The woman's face softens. "Oh, of course" She steps back, allowing you entrance to the home.

The old black and white checkered floor was no more, replaced with some sort of white wood, contrasting against the dark oak accents. The light was warm, different than from what you remembered. This front room was always so cold.

"Take your time," She speaks. "I'll be in the kitchen. Would you like some hot chocolate? It's cold out there"

"No, ma'am," Diego answers, tapping the snow off of his boots on the welcome mat.

She nods, retreating to the other room.

You and Diego look at each other, quickly rushing to the stairs in front of you. On the side, in black paint, rests all of your handprints.

The first was Luther, always number one. He wrote his name like he was creating text to head the newspaper. Then there was Allison, her name painted underneath in cursive. Next was Five, his a little blotchy as he had to do his twice. He wrote his name in his palm, covering up his legal name, which Grace tried to get him to use, Max.

Then there was Klaus and Ben, theirs overlapping each other. Klaus had a mini paint fight with Ben, who'd disapproved immensely. Klaus' name was barely legible, Ben's neat and tidy. Next was Viktor, his hand perfectly placed on the side of the staircase. His name was written underneath in italics, slightly messy since he was in a rush to give the paint to you and Diego.

Speaking of you and Diego, your handprints rested on the end. You'd created a little heart, kind of, out of your hands. You took the left, he took the right. In the middle rested Mom's hand in dark pink paint. He'd begged and pleaded for her to join in for a good ten minutes. He was always a mama's boy.

Little eight-year-old Diego couldn't have been happier in that moment.

Your name was messily scribbled beside your hand, Diego's just the same. Grace wrote Mom with a little heart in cursive in her palm.

Your hands caress your little hands, remembering the cold paint on your hands, the mess it created on the floor.

"You think our height board is beside the hallway closet?" Diego asks softly.

"Wanna find out?" You ask

He smiles, leading you across the house. Beside the white door that led into a cleaning closet rests the height chart on the side board. L, D, A, K, F, B, V, and Y/I. Color coded, too.

Diego chuckles, seeing the height that represented him at ten. "God, I was so short. Allison was so tall"

"She still is" you reply, looking up at your final height checks. Luther's was at twenty-one. 6'3. "Wow. I never realized we all left at different times like that"

Diego nods, looking over Ben's final height at sixteen. He felt his heart trying to fix itself in that moment.

"I thought Klaus left at eighteen?" You comment, looking at the last number he had, being seventeen as he'd run away.

Diego shakes his head. "Seventeen. We left at nineteen, we got a little help from Mom, remember?"

"Oh, yeah"

You're both silent for a moment before you silently agree to go up to your rooms, wanting one last touch of Five, Ben, and yourselves.

You separate ways as you enter your rooms, sitting on the floor. You could remember where every last poster and item had gone like it was yesterday. From the bed placement to which one of Luther's records you were borrowing that day, it all stuck in your head.

The memories kept in the floorboards spoke to you.

Diego used to sneak into your room when he had nightmares up til the age of fifteen. He was mortified of the dark.

Viktor used to read with you on days off from training, all day long.

Luther sat in your room to listen to music with you while you tidied your room.

Klaus would often smoke in your room at because you were the only one with a table fan to wash the smell away out the window. Turning the lights on, even with a closed door, would've got you in trouble. Reggie was a night stalker.

Ben would trade posters with you everytime he wanted to reorganize his room.

Five would make you puke in your room by teleporting you around a kajillion times.

Allison would come to your room so you could style her hair.

You close the door as you leave, moving to Ben's. You can't enter, like the wound was torn into your skin just an hour ago. You look over the blank walls, your eyes set on where his old bookshelf sat.

In Five's room, newspapers were always plastered on the walls, much to Reginald's dismay. The foot of his bed usually housed a row of uniform shoes. There used to be a trunk under his bed where he kept his stuffed animals, which he'd outgrown before he disappeared. He couldn't bring himself to let go of them.

Diego approaches from behind, resting a light hand on your shoulder.

"You remember when Allison made a journal full of homes from magazines that she'd want to live in?"

You chuckle. "Yeah"

You're both quiet for a moment before he speaks again.

"Weird being here again"

You nod. "Hard to say goodbye to what raised you"

He nods. "I miss Mom"

"Me too"

[chyteawrites]

Torn: Chapter 15 - Epilogue

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: As life settles down since you and David have moved in together, there are a couple surprises in store.

Chapter 15/15

Word Count: 540

Pairing: David Castañeda x Reader

Warnings: Too many fluff?

A/N: And that’s all folks! Thank you so much for the love you’ve all shown me throughout this story. We’ll see what the future holds ;) 

Tags: @superapplepie @diianawonka @spacearttraveler @ynm1505 @stardust181 @loulouloueh @reblogserpent @karlitabi-rrito @wh3n-1t-ra1ns-1t-p0urs @berrygutz @bunniegrrl @dpaccione 

After filming wrapped, David went back to L.A. and I went back to New York to pack my things. I flew back and moved in with him. I’d started working the job I had lined up, but thankfully I got to come home to his smiling face every day.

Months passed and David had to start doing press for the show. His interviews with Robert and Cameron instantly became fan favorites. After the show premiered and press was finish, it left us with down time. I couldn’t have been happier with how my life was going. David and I sat in bed, eating snacks as a comedy special played as background noise. Out of nowhere his phone dinged with a text message.

“Who’s that?” I asked, grabbing a chip.

“Robbie. He said I need to check my email.” He muttered and pulled up his emails. “Oh my god! Mi dios!” He shouted and jumped up, his smile wide.

“What? What’s happening?” I asked, my eyes wide as I looked at him.

“You ready to go back to work in a couple months?” He looked down at me with a huge grin.

“Did we get another season?!” I exclaimed and jumped up. He nodded before taking me into his arms and spinning me around, mumbling in Spanish.

“Wait. I need to go get something.” David whispered and motioned for me to stay where I was. I watched him go to the table on his side of the bed and heard him shuffle through it, a gasp escaping his lips as he must have found what he was searching for.

“Alright, mi cariña. I need you to close your eyes.” He chuckled as his all too familiar footsteps treaded closer. I closed my eyes with a nervous smile and shuffled my feet.

“Can I open them now?” I asked and folded my arms after a couple minutes of waiting.

“Yes, you can.” He finally said with a surprisingly loving tone, different from his previously rushed voice. I opened my eyes to see him in front of me, one knee on the ground.

“David, what in the hell are you doing down there?” I asked, trying to mask the sheer nervousness I felt coursing through my body. My heart was beating a million miles an hour and my palms were sweating.

“Mi cariña. The second I met you, I knew I wanted you. I wanted you as a friend. I wanted you as my makeup artist. I wanted to feel your body against mine. I wanted you.” David started, looking up at me with those chocolate brown eyes.

“And now there’s one more thing I want to ask you. Will you, my love, marry me?” He finished, looking up with a twinkle in his eyes.

“David, I…” I stammered, my eyes welling with tears as he held out a simple yet elegant diamond ring.

“I know this is so sudden.” He whispered.

“Oh, shut up and kiss me. Of course I’ll marry you!” I laughed and watched him slip the ring on my finger.

“I love you so much.” David whispered after he kissed me.

“I love you too.” I cooed as we went back to the bed, his lips never leaving mine.

[diegoh4rgreeves]

Innocent

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

[gucciwins]

if no one has said it yet - I’d love to hear back story of the new angst piece 👀 especially because you seem so excited about it!!!

thank you angel 😘 i am excited! i love bel and harry so getting to share a bit more is always fun. here we go then....

Bel entered the cast of The Umbrella Academy season 3. It was ominous to who the other siblings were at the end of season 2. When the news came out, everyone was thrilled as they'd be seeing her in one of the largest series on Netflix as well as giving her more action roles. During filming, she of course got close with the entire crew but she connected with David Castañeda on a familiar level as they both loved speaking Spanish and got to do it on set even more now with each other as well as Genesis Rodriquez. (This was of course all pre-love on tour pre-harry as filming occurred in beginning of 2021.)

She plays Jayme and does not do a lot of the junket interviews as the others. I see her being close with them always checking in but with David and Genesis always keeping up to date with what they are up to. Make time for dinner and lunch when in the same city.

David's private life rivals Bel's and even goes as far a being more protective because no word about his relationships have ever come to light but that does not stop people from speculating. From his co-star Rita to Bel when they were spotted one time in Los Angeles grabbing breakfast back in March 2021.

Matthew Lopez a Latino screenwriter and in the process of directing his first film has a new screenplay he is working on. One that he sent directly to Bel and her people. Matthew told her he saw her as the lead and she was more than thrilled to accept. He told her he had a few options for her co-star and if she could do a few scenes with each. For the first few it went alright, and Matthew took Bel's feedback with open ears it wasn't until she got to read with David did Matthew actually get excited.

He saw how quick they were to draw energy from each other as well as how David improvised and Bel was quick to follow creating something no one was expecting.

It seemed right there and then that the story Matthew had endlessly been working on would be coming to life with these two amazing actors.

Bel is in New York working on a photo shoot for a magazine cover she will be starring in the following two months and is finishing it up when she gets a call from David and Genesis who are hanging out together in New York going for dinner later checking to see if Bel wanted to tag along. Of course she did.

She meets with them at the restaurant and is greeted with hugs. All happy to see each other again after a long time. Dinner is great, Genesis heads out first as her car arrives for her and David walks out with Bel as they wait on her ride. David would be walking back home. They would be chatting lost in their conversation that they don't realize when a fan spots them and shoots photos of them as they hug goodbye and he hold the door open as she gets in the car.

Two days later a leak of them staring in a film together in the next year spreads. The synopsis of a love story with Bel and David is too much for fans. To make it a little worse they are spotted by a paparazzi at a bookstore. There would be photos of her as he helped her pick out a few books and carried her bags. This would be what stays trending for hours on hours. Harry would see this and well with the time zone he couldn't just call you up, he'd have to wait for a decent time meaning he had to sit with this pit in his stomach for hours.

Thus where the story will pick up days before the Paris show....

[blushingbucky]

stay with me | diego hargreeves

pairing: diego hargreeves x gender neutral!reader

word count: 1.1k

requested by anon.

summary: you’re there for him. you’ll always be there for him.

author’s note: I really loved this prompt and who doesn't want more of angsty season one diego? let me know what you think!

You could hear the muffled shouts from Diego’s bedroom, your only solace in the overbearing Academy.

The Argument of Grace raged on, and on, and on. Was Grace really a threat? Had she truly evolved into her own independent being? You weren’t sure, but as Diego’s partner, you were inclined to agree with him. It was only out of obligation you met his siblings; while you’d grown attached to Klaus and Vanya, it was Grace you truly wanted to know, to meet. She was more than a caretaker, more than a vacuum cleaner to be thrown in a closet.

She was Grace. Diego’s mum. His only comfort in an abusive home and prison of second-best. But to you he was first, the only calm in your storm. And to him, you were everything. The escape from competing for favourite child, the anchor in his tumultuous waves.

Diego walks with gentle footsteps to meet Grace, guilt threatening to swallow him whole after she heard the last whisperings of dispute. It starts with a “Mum, we need to talk.”

And her reply, ever the slightly-oblivious caretaker, twists the knife further in his chest. “Okay, but only for a minute. I need to finish this cross-stitch.”

Diego knows he shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t provoke her, but he has to know. Needs to know if she’s a lie spun by his father, another web to ensnare little Number Two in another competition. “Everything you did for us when we were kids… for me… why’d you do it?”

The real meaning lies unsaid. Was it because you loved me?

Her smiling answer sounds like a lie and before he can stop it, before he can hesitate, he wonders aloud, “Is that you saying that? I mean our father, he made you. When you think something, is it like he’s telling you what to say?”

The real meaning lies unsaid. Is your love for me a lie? Is it a trick by my father, even in death?

And he knows Reginald is gone, but all he can see in Grace is him. The thought of Grace reciting a script concocted by Reginald’s twisted imagination churns his stomach, breaks his heart. She didn’t do anything wrong, but she’s just a cog in the machine that is the Umbrella Academy.

“It’s okay if you hated him” falls from his lips, and Diego wonders where the thought came from. Hands shaking as he lowers into a crouch, eyes soft and heartbroken. “We were just tools in an experiment to him. Nothing more. So I’m saying, I would understand if… you know, if— if you wanted to hurt him.”

There lies the real meaning. Did you kill him? Are you dangerous? Have you truly evolved?

“Now, now. Mr Hargreeves was a great man.” Grace relays the practiced speech, listing Reginald’s accomplishments as industrialist, inventor, Olympic gold medalist and suddenly Diego can’t take it anymore. Can’t stand the awe in her eyes at the very mention of the cruel, cold scientist.

His fingers clamp down on her shoulders as he stands, half-hoping to shake her awake to the truth. He can’t stand her praise of the devil. No more will he lie to himself, no more will he hope for redemption.

Diego’s long given up defending his father, and now Grace must do the same. She has to feel something, he treated her worse than anyone and in all those 30 years, she was never given a room to sleep in. Not even a change of clothes.

Her eyes sadden and for a moment Diego dares to dream. Maybe she’s changed. But as the familiar, oblivious smile returns, the small bloom of hope in his chest withers. He lifts his gaze to look at the “just paintings” and with a final sigh, he turns and walks away.

. . .

The house is quiet in the aftermath of the fight, and Diego finds you in his room. “Come with me. I need you for something.”

“What is it?” lies unanswered as he leaves the doorway as fast as he arrived. More questions burn in your mind but you stand from the bed and follow him. You find him in Grace’s corner of paintings, feet having just reached the landing when he begins to speak. The intimacy between the pair and the expression on his face is enough for you to hang back, to watch the scene unfold.

Her humming’s interrupted by Diego’s soft concern, gloved fingers on her shoulder a reassurance.

Watching on, your own confusion matches hers. What is Diego doing? Why did he need you? What will happen to Grace? Once Diego settles in front of her, the answer dawns.

He’s going to turn Grace off. Eyes of horror meet sorrowful, and you know he doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t want to believe she’s dangerous, doesn’t want to entertain the thought that his mother never truly loved him. But he must. For the sake of his family and Grace’s own safety, Diego must turn her off.

And it hurts.

But he must.

With a shaky breath, Diego cuts down her arm with a knife, exposing the wiring and intricacies of the machine that is Grace. Her confusion can’t deter him from the task, can’t stop him from reaching in to slow the steady whirring.

With water building in the eyes you fell in love with, he whispers reassurance over soft sobs and quivering lips. “It’s gonna be o…”

And now Grace understands, giving him the encouragement he’s always gained from just her pride in him. He’s still a child when it comes to her, when it comes to his speech. “Remember what we worked on. Just picture the word in your mind.”

It’s enough for him to manage, “It’s gonna be okay, M… M-Mum.” The whirring slows and fades, the cross-stitching limp in mechanical fingers.

He can’t believe what he’s done, and you rush forward from your hiding place to wrap your arms around him. Diego’s limp as he falls into your arms, knees collapsing to the ground as he sobs. Your kisses to the top of his head, his scar, his cheek are gentle and wet as your own tears run. It’s heartbreaking and it’s not fair and there’s a broken boy in your arms.

There’s a broken boy in your arms and you don’t know how to put him back together.

The tears eventually fade, and red-rimmed eyes meet your own as Diego grips your arm for comfort. “Will you st… st-stay with m… m-me? You— you’re... you’re all I ha-have, now.”

Tears threaten his eyes again, and their depths are full of anger and hopelessness. His stutter’s showing and your heart just breaks for him because it was she who’d given him perseverance, given him the words to picture in his mind. How could you possibly leave him now?

In the cupping of your hands against Diego’s cheeks lies your answer, fingers quick to swipe away the tears. A heavy heart and gentle lips press against his forehead, whispering “Of course, my love. Always.”

[alisonwritesimagines]

Strange Man ~Diego Hargreeves Imagine~

Requested by anonymous:

Summary: As you walk home back to your apartment, you find a strange man appear from an alleyway out of mid air. 

Author’s Note: I really need a season three already. That cliffhanger killed me. 

You did not like walking at night. It wasn’t safe. And if your mother had found out that you were walking to your apartment alone at night, you were gonna get an earful. As you walked past an alleyway, you heard what sounded like wind. From the side of your eye, you noticed a blue light. You walked back to see some man fall onto the ground out of no where.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” You questioned as you quickly walked over to the man. You helped him up as he also looked confused.

“Uh yeah. Thanks.”

“You really scared me. How did you come out from mid air?” You asked him.

“What do you mean?”

“I just saw you appear out of midair. Are you some kind of alien or supernatural creature?”

“No.” 

You heard some lady screaming causing the guy to run over to check it out. You followed behind as you saw some mugger stealing some lady’s purse. You watched as the guy throw his knife at the man which pinned him (without any harm) to the wooden post. 

Diego gave the lady back her purse but noticed his surroundings. There he saw a video of John F. Kennedy making a public announcement on the television screen. Diego stared at the T.V. until he saw you walk up to him. 

“How did you do that?” You questioned.

“What year is it?” Diego asked you. 

“It’s 1963,” you answered. 

“No. No. No. That can’t be,” Diego tells you in shock.

“Hey, look. Um why don’t you come home with me. I can explain anything if you need it,” you offered. 

“I’ll be fine.”

“Please. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I just let you wonder off. I can let you crash at my place for a bit,” you tell him.

“I wouldn’t be a great guest,” Diego warned.

“Please I’ve had worst,” you shrug. Diego looked at you in confusion.

“My ex-boyfriend wasn’t the sweetest.”

“Alright fine.”

“I’m gonna need your knives first,” you tell him.

“My knives?”

“I don’t want you to murder me in my sleep.”

“Touche.” Diego handed you his knives making you smile. 

“I’m Y/n, by the way. Y/n L/n.”

“Diego.”

“Nice to meet you Diego. Now, are you hungry?” You asked him.

“Yeah.”

“I hope you like pot roast,” you said.

“I don’t mind it.”

“Good. Come on.”

Once you both came back to your house, you put your purse away along with the knife. You walked back to see Diego looking around at your apartment.

“Nice place you have,” Diego tells you.

“Thank you. Do you want to shower? I have some of my ex’s clothes that I can lend you. You look like you’re the same size,” you tell him.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“I’ll let you shower and I can get the dinner ready,” you tell him. You got his clothes and a towel ready before handing them to him.

“The bathroom is the first door to the right. You just need to turn left for the hot water,” you tell Diego.

“Thank you.”

As you cooked dinner, you thought about the negatives about bringing some stranger to your apartment. Diego took a quick shower and got changed quickly. He walked out to see you almost done with setting up the table.

“Thank you for letting me into your apartment,” Diego tells you.

“You’re welcome. So what happened in the alleyway anyway?” You asked him.

“That’s a bit of a long story,” Diego explained.

“Is there any way to convince you to tell me?” You asked.

“Maybe. I think it’s best to just calm down from what happened,” Diego tells you.

“Alright. Fine. Pot roast is ready,” you tell him before bringing the food from the oven.

“Thank you by the way.” You looked up at Diego who stood by the table.

“You’re welcome,” you smile at him.

“No I mean thank you for taking me in. I wouldn’t expect anyone to take me in,” Diego said.

“Well I couldn’t just leave you out there all by yourself,” you smile.

“I promise I will explain everything to you but I’m afraid of overwhelming you.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I can take it.”

“How about I start off slowly?”

“That would be the best for me, huh?” 

“Yeah. Trust me, it’ll be for the best.”

“We should eat before the food gets cold,” you tell him. 

[rae-gar-targaryen]

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​ 

[singtotheskiies]

“is that how you usually take out a criminal?” // diego hargreeves x reader headcanons

masterlist

summary: diego’s not your everyday hero—and thank goodness for that.

a/n: i love him i love him i love him oh god,,,,,, i am in my diego feels tonight so here’s a few quick thoughts i busted out in like 20 minutes💕✨

✖️✖️✖️

-the way you two first meet??

-honestly,,, not your typical meet-cute by a long shot

-diego’s bored one night—the police radio he’s kept out of habit is quiet, and he’s left to prowl the streets idly until it crackles to life

-honestly, he’s about to call it a night

-but then,,,,,,

-his eyes spark with interest as he sees a figure (you) being followed a bit too closely for comfort

-hero mode™ is instantly activated

-he waits in excited silence until the two people walk past his hiding spot and jumps out, whaling on the man following you

-you turn around at the sound of grunting and fighting

-diego’s already got the man pinned to the ground with a knife

-“oh my god” is all you can think of saying

-“no need to worry,” he says, smirking. “i’ve got him now.”

-uhhhhh,,,,

-slight awkward silence

-like do you say thank you?? you didn’t even know anything was out of the ordinary—you were just walking and next thing you know a dude in black leather has someone pinned down???

-the man on the ground begins yelling against mystery man’s gloved hand before you can say anything

-“have something to say, asshole??” diego uncovers his mouth

-“i don’t know them, i swear,” the man pants. “i’m just trying to get home to my wife and kids!!”

-“that’s what a criminal would say,” mystery man sneers

-“i swear!!” the man struggles for a moment. “check my left pocket!!”

-mystery man chooses the wrong left at first

-you may have snorted under your breath

-he looks at the man’s wallet, his face falling as he rifles through it

-“i’m, uh—i am so sorry. you have a lovely evening,” he says, and lets him go

-the man runs off as fast as he can, leaving the two of you standing there awkwardly

-“well that was, uh—interesting,” you laugh, not knowing what else to say

-“yeah, my bad,” mystery man laughs. his eyes are kind and crinkling beneath his domino mask. “i’m diego, by the way.”

-you introduce yourself before asking “so what’s your story? you trying to be batman or something?”

-“nah, i’m way better,” he quips, making you laugh

-“riiiight, as you so clearly demonstrated,” you giggle

-diego’s eyes linger on your smiling face for a split second

-you’re so beautiful??!! send help?? his brain is kinda short-circuiting

-without fully knowing what he’s doing, he takes off his mask

-“can i walk you home? y’know, just in case some actual potential creeps are around?”

-you smile up at him, and goddamn it—his heart clenches in his chest unbidden

-“i’d normally decline, but i think you’ve shown me your heart’s in the right place,” you shrug

-“lead the way.”

-you guys talk about nothing in particular, but you can’t help stealing a glance or two (or ten) at the strange man beside you

-his tight leather getup contrasts with his soft mouth and voice

-he’s got a whole tough-but-sweet look going, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it attractive

-he seems somewhat familiar?? maybe you’ve seen him in a movie or something??

-“nah, nothing like that,” he says when you ask him. “just a group of crime-fighting kids run by the biggest dick on the planet”

-and you’re like “wow okay i drink two glasses of wine instead of one when i wanna spice things up”

-he gives you the sweetest smile when you arrive at your place

-“y’know i would, uh—love to see you again,” he says, almost shyly

-and you’re so caught up in him that you agree almost without thinking

-one thing leads to another, and both of you find yourself falling for the other

-he can tell you anything, and he makes you laugh like no one else

-one night, the two of you are sitting on a swingset on a playground in the middle of the city

-he’s wearing a hawaiian shirt you convinced him to buy the other week

-and you’re smiling as you eat the ice cream he paid for, your hair blowing in the setting sun

-the moment isn’t as graceful as it could be—a few hairs get trapped in your eye, and you work at releasing them while simultaneously trying not to get ice cream in your hair

-but somehow??? it’s perfect

-you’re perfect

-diego’s heart literally stops

-he’s blushing!!!!!! he’s so nervous all of a sudden!!!! but he has to ask you

-“w-w-would you wanna be m-my—“

-fuck.

-fuck.

-of course his stutter makes an appearance at the exact time it shouldn’t

-but you understand (because of course you do) and nod as you take his hand with a beaming smile

-“i’d love to.”

-it’s almost too dark to see anymore, but the two of you don’t care

-you sit on the swings, your head on his (really nice-smelling) shoulder

-“thank you,” he says, breaking the happy silence after a few minutes

-“you’re cute,” is your simple response

-and almost before he knows it, you’re kissing him

-!!!!!!!!

-it’s soft and just slightly off-center due to the settling dusk, and you taste so sweet and smell so you

-he just kinda,,,, forgets everything else

-his eyes are full of awe as you pull away slightly with a giggle and kiss his cheek

-congrats!! mr. vigilante is putty in your hands!!

-he can’t stop smiling as he walks you home

-his head spins as you hug him good night and he’s left outside your door

-all the trauma and bitterness and constant competition of his past??

-it’s well worth it if it’s brought you to him