A/N: just a sweet little things for a few of the Umbrellas and their artistic lover!
Pairing:Luther Hargreeves x Reader; Diego Hargreeves x Reader; Viktor Hargreeves x Reader (gender neutral reader/no pronouns used).
Luther loved the paints staining your hands. Taking your hand in his own, you seem so tiny compared to him…and he can’t help but love that a little bit. Rough fingers run across your hands, his eyes catching the many colors.
Cerulean blue, goldenrod, midnight black.
Before him is a half-finished night sky painted across the bedroom wall. It’s beautiful, something out of Van Gogh’s dreams. Leaning into his embrace, a half-smile on your face, you ask Luther what he thinks of it so far.
“It’s beautiful.”
All around the home you share, little pieces of you are scattered about. Papers covered in concept sketches, glass jars full of brushes, too many tunes of painted to be counted.
Starlight silver, murky gray, ice blue.
Luther loves all of these little things, the half-filled sketchbooks and loose pencils and paint stains on denim jeans…but the bedroom wall is his favorite place, his favorite piece. He looks at it every night looking at it, smiling in wonder at the beauty of what you had made…but it’s not as lovely as you. Nothing could ever be as perfect as his lover. Pulling his eyes away from the mural, Luther will gaze at you as he falls asleep, so thankful that he was worthy of such a love.
Diego was the only one allowed to go through your sketchbooks. It brings him a sense of pride, being the only one given such an honor…others in life had cruelly criticized your art, leaving you insecure and protective of it.
Piles of used sketchbooks lay in stacks around the apartment, black covers speckled with color.
If he asked, you would allow him to flip through the ink drawings. A weeping moon, a burning sun, strange flowers and fairies and beautiful girls.
But it was moments like this he loved the most.
Diego had stolen a brief moment of piece with you. A clouded sky hung over the city, dark and cold. Clouds trembled with a coming storm, rain gently falling from the sky. Some old action flick is playing onscreen but that’s not what Diego is really paying attention to. His eyes are fixed on you, watching you create something wonderful.
Hands flying over the page, you lightly erase the messy pencil sketch and slowly replace it with a starry sky. He recognizes the constellations on page, Andromeda and Perseus and Libra carefully carefully decorated in shining silver. You love the stars, he recalls, knowing the constellations and the stories told about them…and whenever you cannot see them through a clouded sky, you make your own.
Taking your ink stained hand in his, Diego kissed your fingers softly.
Rough facial tickled your skin, Diego pulling you closer and into a soft, sweet kiss. You smelled of ink and paper and something of mint, fresh and cold and clean. As the rainfall became heavy, he held you tight and didn’t let go…he had no clue what dangers tomorrow might bring at least for tonight, he had this.
He had you.
Viktor’s soul is so much like your own. It was your shared love for the arts that had brought you together to begin with.
You always had to have music when you were sculpting and you just so happened to live right next door to a violinist. It was his music that had brought you into Viktor’s life, every little note making your heart swell. He just so happened to be walking down the stairs as you talked to friend about the beautiful boy who made magic with a violin and, well, that was that.
Viktor fell in love and took you with him, plummeting into a messy, wonderful world unlike anything else.
Moving into a small home together, Viktor found everything he’d ever dreamed of.
Music filled the house constantly, the tow of you dancing whenever you could. His books lined the shelves and overflowed in piles, your sketches covered the walls. In the garage was your studio, sculptures slowly coming to life. Viktor came in as you were working to Danse Macabre, the music swelling as you worked to bring stone to life. Bearing gifts (two cups of coffee and a kiss), he joins you for a moment.
Carved of white stone stands a man with perfect features, a crooked half-smile and kind eyes. In his hands was a violin and a bow, carved to such perfect that Viktor could almost see him coming to life and playing in the night.
“A conservatory commissioned me to create a piece for them…and I already found my inspiration.”
Viktor felt his heart beat wildly in his chest, a smile blooming over his face. Setting his coffee aside, he pulled you into his embrace and kissed you softly. A single kiss was enough to make you forget yourself, wrapping your arms around him so tight, as though you feared letting go. Hands played with his dark hair, a soft whisper muffled against his lips.
A/N: just a little something sweet for Diego…please give this boy some love and comfort, he needs it so much. Also, the book mentioned in this one is Watership Down by Richard Adams.
Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Reader (gender neutral reader/no pronouns used).
The apartment was quiet, the way it always was when he was gone.
Your relationship with Diego was certainly…hectic, to say the least. Danger surrounded him and his family at all times, bullets flying and dead bodies dropping wherever they seemed to be. Such brutality would have frightened most people far, far away but you had been drawn into Diego, falling so deeply in love with him…so you stayed. You chose to chase after love.
And despite the danger, you never once regretted the choice.
A/N: My first writing for The Umbrella Academy! I wanted to do something cute and sweet…so here are the little ways they would express their love for you…I want to write one for the Sparrows but I should probably wait until the new season begins.
Pairing: Luther Hargreeves x Reader; Klaus Hargreeves x Reader; Viktor Hargreeves x Reader; Allison Hargreeves x Reader; Diego Hargreeves x Reader; Number Five x Reader/ Ben Hargreeves x Reader (gender neutral reader/no pronouns used).
Luther knows how you take your tea. He noticed it the first time you stayed the night, arising in the early hours and sneaking into the kitchen together.
The others are (thankfully) still asleep, allowing the morning to unfold without the typical drama and danger. It’s just you and him. Leaning against the counter, Luther watches as you fill the light blue mugs (one with a little chip) mugs, steam dancing in the sunlight. You’re laughing softly at something Luther had said (he doesn’t even remember anymore, too lost in the beauty of your smile and the sound of your laughter) and he’s watching your hands.
Playing with the string of the teabag, picking up the spoon, stirring in sugar or honey or whatever you might like. He studies the gentle movement, just loving every second. And from then on, he never forgets how you take your tea.
Luther buys the types of tea that you like, keeping it in the back of a cabinet.
Beside it are two light blue mugs, one chipped and both waiting to be used. They are your mugs and no one else is allowed to touch them, lest they be tossed into the stratosphere. He knows the way you take your tea, he loves your little hands (they are his favorite part of you), and mornings like this are his favorite thing in the world. Quiet. Calm. He’s happy, he’s in love, and he wants for nothing except for you.
Luther expresses love by caring for you…even if it’s something as small as making you a cup of tea.
Klaus has a box of keepsakes. To anyone else, it’s just a shoebox full of random junk but to Klaus it is a love story. Every so often, he’ll pick something up to remember some special moment the two of you had shared.
A wrinkled napkin (taken from the diner where you’d met, your number still staining the off-white paper), a pressed rose (you gave it to him one night just because he loved roses), notebook paper covered in scribbled song titles (songs you liked or ones that reminded him of you), a shimmery black rock (from a midnight walk in the park).
They are reminders.
When he ishurting,when his heart is breaking and he’s lonely, Klaus opens the box and reminds himself that he is loved.
It’s there, that love, in all of the little thing’s he has collected over time. The rubber bracelet from a concert (it was your favorite band and, admittedly, he stole those tickets), the little love notes scribbled on scraps of paper (just because you wanted to remind him how much you adore him), a Skittles wrapper (you leave him candy on his pillow after you’ve spent the night), a torn butterfly wing (found in the garden and pressed in a glass locket you gave him), a broken ring (a cheap little thing that got tangled in his hair one night as you were making out).
Whenever Klaus is at his darkest, you bring him back into the light.
And these pieces of you are just that, little stars reminding him of the beauty and the wonder that exists within his heart.
You are his light, his love.
Viktor has a playlist simply titled “Y/N”. It’s a mess of music from different genres, nothing seemingly fitting together.
Some are songs you like.
Of course you bonded over music, an entire shelf of CDs lining his walls and boxes of vinyl records (he has a record player and everything, dancing with you to the oldies and the classics) in his apartment. Viktor wanted to know the music you liked and the music you hated, the song you were listening to over and over right now, all of it.
Some are songs that remind him of you.
The song that played in the coffee shop where you’d met or on the radio as you drove far, far away and left it all behind. Your first date (that same coffee shop, spending all night in a corner table talking), your first kiss (lingering in the doorway and wanting to make a move but being too scared…so you did it for him), the first time you saw him play (in the park at night, playing music beneath the moon and stars) and though he was beautiful.
He’s mesmerized every verse, finding little bits of you hidden within. And your favorite songs, he can play them all and will do so happily.
Music is a language to him.
It is art, it’s beauty, it’s hoping and hurting…and it’s love. The playlist, the lyrics, the songs he plays for you, it’s all ways of Viktor confessing his love for you over and over again. You are the music in his mind, playing ever on and one.
Allison buys you a bracelet. Actually, she buys two, one for you and a matching one for her. It’s a set from a high-end shop, handmade and beautiful. She bought them once for your one year anniversary, wanting so much to give you something special.
A silver band, the outside in smooth and plain.
But within the bracelet it a message engraved into metal. Allison wrote it on a piece of paper and the jeweler recreated it, her perfect handwriting engraved into silver.
A. H. + Y. N. Forever.
It’s the promise you’ve always made to one another, ever since the first night you kissed and confessed your love. All of her life had seemed so unstable, never knowing what was going to happen or what she was going to lose. And Allison had lost so, so much. But you aren’t going anywhere, not now and not ever.
“Do you love me?”
“Will you come?”
“Will you stay?”
And you answer it every time in the same way.
“Forever.”
You love Allison, you’ll find her no matter where she goes, and you’ll be by her side forever and over. And that one word brings her so, so much comfort.
Diego texts you first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He’s not always the most romantic guys but he does love you. Oh, he loves you so fucking much!
You are his first thought in the morning and the last before he falls asleep.
In the early morning, sunlight spills over the bedsheets. Diego is alone, the bed seeming so empty without you there…it’s a crappy apartment that he calls home, too small and too lonely, but he likes it better with you there. But you’re not here and he just misses you so much. Finding his phone tangled in the blankets, Diego smiles at his lockscreen (you smiling and him with his arms wrapped around you)
“Thinking of you, baby. Take care of yourself today.”
Most nights you spend with him, but it can’t always happen…at least not right now. So when you have to sleep in separate beds, Diego wants you to fall asleep knowing that he is thinking of you and loving you.
“Missing you so much. I love you, baby.”
Closing his eyes, Diego is exhausted and sleep comes quickly. He’ll be dreaming of you, at least until he can hold you in his arms once again.
Five keeps a note in his pocket. It’s a scrap of notebook paper, soft and yellowed with age. If you were to unfold it, you would see a single line of neat handwriting.
Y/N Hargreeves.
It could be your name, one day, and he could be yours. Maybe he’d have a name too. Maybe the tow of you could run away and be happy somewhere. He’d written in years ago, before he had vanished. In a silly moment of first love, he’d written it down in a notebook and imagined the what ifs…then he heard Luther and Diego clambering up the sitars and panicked, ripping it out of the notebook and hiding it away. Five never threw it away, folding it neatly and keeping it for himself.
It was still in his pocket when you vanished together, both disappearing into different timelines.
Every so often, Five would take out the note and let the dreams come back to him, silly fantasies pulling him through the nightmares.
He would find you again.
Whenever or whenever you were out there, Five was going to find you again. He would bring you home. And he was going to make all of those silly, sweet dreams come true. There was no power in the universe that could stop him.
Ben leaves you little things. Just random things that he hides around the place so you can find them from time to time.
Much like Luthor, caring for you is Ben’s way of expressing his love.
He’ll leave your favorite candy in your coat pocket or a little note to cheer you up. Sometimes you’ll find a wrapped present hidden somewhere in the house. He’ll ask you to grab a towel from the linen closet or hint that you should look in the cupboard…and you’ll find something there, a book you’ve been wanting or a teddy bear, anything really.
“Do you like it?”
Ben loves to spoil you, gift giving being a love language of his.
And when you gush over it, kissing his face sweetly, he cannot help but feel so, so happy…all Ben wants you is for you to be happy and to be his. And he’s always thinking of a way to make you smile, basking in the happiness of loving you.
The last gift he ever left for you was a love letter.
You found it a month after his death, hidden in a coat pocket. The familiar spiderweb handwriting is scrawled on light gray paper, a few scribbles between the his message. He loves you so much. You’re beautiful, perfect, his dream come true…and he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. And as you clutch the letter to your heart and sob, there’s nothing Ben can do to take care of you.
Im hoping to get back into writing. I’ve been slammed with several 8 week college classes. Ill be writing soon I may write some Umbrella Academy stuff ♀️
