#sooo its gonna have to wait until at least tomorrow night unfortunately

[dropoutparty]

You got me re interested in ihnmaims due to how attractive your am gijinka is…. Can I give him a pot of fuchsias? A sweet treat? A kiss? He’s such a sweetheart and I need to kiss him and he’s such a cutie patootie and I need to hug him and I’d be here all day if I kept talking about him so I must go now……

ive been meaning to draw him more, ty for enabling me anon <333

[ofmythsandmadness]

pretty eyes.

you love diego hargreeves pretty eyes, sober and drunk off your rocker. only, when its the latter, it’s a little harder to hold back your eager compliments.

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WARNINGS & DETAILS: gender!neutral reader. mention of alcohol & drinking, some fighting later on in the chapter (it’ll make sense when it comes), idiots being idiots, mutual pining, a tad bit of angst. WORD COUNT: 6.5k NOTES: at the end (read please).

BUY ME A COFFEE HERE. | CHECK OUT MY OTHER WRITINGS HERE.

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“DO YOU KNOW WHY THE SKY’S BLUE?”

Diego didn’t look back, but from the sounds of tiny pants and dull clunks of shoes hitting the ground, he knew enough to paint a picture. You, struggling to rid yourself of the coat he forced you to put on, dropping the heels you claimed you hated so vehemently, all the while probably grinning from ear to ear like he imagined little kids looked on Christmas Day. He knew you’d be waiting for his answer, just as you always did, expecting something greater than he could give you in his own flustered state.

Sometimes you were predictable. But he liked that about you.

“I don’t know. Why?”

“No, silly! I’m asking you!”

“Oh.” His tongue danced across his bottom lip, wetting the chapped skin before responding. “I dunno. Sorry.”

Only a sparkling laugh and a thump answered him. He whirled around to see you flat on your butt on the ground, staring up at him with drooping doe eyes. It would be an irresistibly pretty sight, if he knew it wasn’t from extreme inebriation and you were completely off your rocker at the moment.

Still, pretty.

“Help me up?” You laughed, waving your hands aimlessly towards him. “Puh-lease?”

Diego grimaced slightly but moved anyways. He grabbed at your hands (clammy, another symptom of your heavy drinking choices)  and yanked you towards him. Only he overestimated you and greatly underestimated his own strength it seemed -- instead of lifting to your feet like any normal person, you practically flew towards him, landing just under his chin and flopping against his chest.

And Diego froze.

Normally he would have pulled away and shrugged it off as a mistake. Neither of you would mention it again and would move on with your lives, forgetting how close your bodies had been and the way your gaze was intoxicating upon itself. He had rules for those things; never getting too close to a friend who made his heart beat in a rather unfriendly way was one of them.

But as you looked up at him, still smiling dopily and eyes almost crossed, he couldn’t remember a single thing about rules or precautions or anything of the sort. All that was on Diego’s mind, was you.

Your smile softened a tad, painted lips closing over your teeth and only hinting at the dimples he had stared at many-a-time before. Up close, he could see flecks of black under your eyes, staining flushed skin with ebony freckles that no one could believe was natural. He didn’t know the word for it, but guessed it was from you rubbing at your eyes and forgetting you had painted them hours before. Despite it, you still looked absolutely radiant.

“You have really pretty eyes.”

Diego blinked, startled by your giggled statement. “W-what?”

“Sooo pretty,” you gushed. One of your hands left his chest -- he hadn’t even realised they had been pressed there, but he suddenly missed the warm sensation -- and caressed his cheek. He shuddered at the touch. “Maybe the pre...prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen!”

If merely standing near you was heart-attack inducing, Diego was certain that all this was going to explode the vessel. Any second at that point, it would just burst and coat your grinning face with its guts--

-- he shook his head, ridding himself of both that image and the foolish thoughts flooding around it. You were drunk. Everyone said and did stupid stuff when they were drunk. Right? Like the time he lost a fight with a lamp post -- he wouldn’t do that sober, but alcohol made everyone a fool. You just chose compliments over actions, maybe.

The saying ‘drunk words, sober thoughts’ lingered in his mind for half a second, but he pushed it away. That only worked in late night television or shitty rom-coms, not reality. Not with them.

“You should get to bed,” Diego said gruffly, pulling away from your fingers. He didn’t miss the flash of disappointment on your face, but tried to push it away for his own emotions’ sake. “You’re gonna want to, ‘fore all this hits.”

“You should smile more.”

Diego froze. He didn’t turn back to her that time, knowing it would only hurt him more, but he couldn’t bring himself to move another inch.

“Your eyes are fu...cking beautiful, but your smile?” Clapping echoed paces behind him; his jaw clenched with every smack. “Diego, you’re so pretty!”

He reached behind him blindly, scrambling and feeling stupid before finally launching onto you. Still avoiding your charming smile, he pulled you along, leading you out and into your bedroom. “I’ll be back to get you some Advil. Sit down.”

“I wish you’d smile more,” you said, completely ignoring every word he said. You fell down to your bed with a plop. “It lights up those pretty pretty, pretty eyes so much...so fucking pretty, Diego! I can’t even think of any other words, that’s how be-yew-tiful you are.”

“Okay, I--”

“-- and you always look so grumpy. It’s so funny!”

Diego should have been long gone, at that point. For his own sake and for yours, because you would hate that you rambled on so much, and he was going to pay for the emotional turmoil you were putting him through. But he couldn’t. He simply stood, still and awkward in your bedroom doorway, watching as you tried to twist your face to look like his own.

It didn’t work at all. Your lips fought angrily to smile again, and your eyelids just drooped, so far you looked stoned, or maybe like a zombie ready to bite. But even if you looked beyond ridiculous, his mind still screamed at how adorable it was, and despite himself, Diego smiled.

“See! See, there - there it is!” You pointed frantically at his own face, like he didn’t know it was there. “God, I wish I had a mirror to show you how pretty you are! Lil...lil sunshine boy!”

Okay, ‘sunshine boy’ was new. It took a little bit of the piss out of everything, and he was able to grumble and walk away finally from your singing self. Calls of his name paired with nonsensical titles followed. Diego tried his best to ignore them, but he knew the coos would haunt him later. Even as he searched for a glass, the sounds bounced through his head like injured bats in a cave; no way out and too blind to escape, forced to flit around endlessly until someone ended their suffering.

But Diego, unfortunately, did not know how to do that. So he simply bore the weight of your compliments knowing that they were nothing but sounds and syllables made up by a confused mind, trying to push through the night with as little baggage as possible.

As he walked back to your room, he sighed. This wasn’t how he planned things to go. It had been a good night -- sure, he might not have had as much fun as you looked like you were having, dancing and drinking and laughing, but at least he was with you. And he liked that, and the lax nature you took on when you drank, making him feel less pressure about constantly being the best version of himself. He hadn’t felt like he needed to put on a show, he was just Diego, for better or for worse. And somehow, you didn’t mind that.

He only wished that he could have more than that and all the time.

“Okay,” he said, clearing his throat after the word came out garbled. “Uh - got you this, you’re gonna want to drink it and take these now. Okay? And I’m putting these here for tomorrow morning, so you can take that as soon as you’re up. You got that?”

Your head bobbed up and down excitedly, but he knew you didn’t take in a word he said. So as you swallowed the tablets and gulped down the water, he scribbled out a note to remind you of what definitely went right over your head.

Diego paused, pen slightly trembling in his hand, before jotting down two more sentences. Thanks for last night. Had a good time being with you, as always. He hesitated, hovering over the slip of paper before cursing and scribbling out the lines with added violence. He tried again, being a little bit more poetic (which wasn’t much, but words really were not his thing) only to be disappointed again, pushing down on the pen so hard he was sure it would burst. Once he was sure nothing but scribbles could be made of the mess, he put the note under the Advil bottle and stepped away.

“You wanna change out of that?” He asked, gesturing to your clothes. “Doubt that’s comfortable.”

“Nah,” you drawled. You smiled up at him and even dared to wink (it was more of a sloppy, half-assed blink, but it still made his head swim). “I’m just comfortable. Do...you…’re you comfortable?”

Diego chose not to answer that. He pushed you back gently, deciding not to fight with you on changing and instead just going with sleep. You didn’t fight him much. If anything you leaned into it, holding onto his hands for seconds longer than you should and mumbling sweet nonsense up at him.

“You know,” you sang, “you know what, Di...Diego?”

He didn’t pause. “What?”

“I would do anything...and everything...in order to make you smile forever. You know? Anything.”

Those were the words that weighed heaviest on Diego’s conscience as he drove back to his place. It was as though they had erased everything else, anything that had happened that day or any time before and just left that in its place. He didn’t know why, but they stuck, and as he wove through the dimly lit streets, your voice floated about like a bodiless apparition, set to destroy his mind and drive him mad.

Diego had had his heart broken several times before. It happened almost easily in his childhood, normally by the hands of his vindictive father. He had learned how to patch it up, sew up the cracks and try to make it so it wouldn’t happen again, and eventually he got better at that. But it shattered again when Ben died, and he realised that they were just kids, forced to play heroes in a horrifically gruesome world they didn’t belong in. That took a while to mend, but he did, until he screwed up at the police academy and Patch left him too. After that he had let the fragments just sit in piles in his chest, digging at his ribs and leaving him winded after long nights in the cold darkness. He hadn’t cared; he thought that was what was expected of him. Nothing but a broken heart to hold him when the nightmares got too bad.

But when you came along, he didn’t have to stitch himself back together. You did it for him. Somehow without him noticing you had snuck into his chest and unravelled the poor stitchwork and blotted out the stains left that he hadn’t bothered to clean up. Over time, you had managed to make it almost brand new again, and it was a whole new experience of smiling and watching as you failed to finish your joke again, only because you were already laughing too hard. Of getting wasted on Wednesday’s when your job sucked more and dancing down the streets up to your apartment, uncaring of those who watched. Of you chiding him for the cuts and bruises collected from his vigilante expeditions, but always being there to wash them out and make a fresh pot of tea. Of you, merely existing, and allowing him to bask in your sunshine a while longer.

But hearing those soft words leave your drunken lips, spilling out like tar from someone so angelic, hurt. Diego didn’t think that was possible with you.

He sighed, turning down the street towards the gym. It would be a sleepless night again.

YOU WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING CONFUSED AND ACHING.

Not as much as you normally would be, which was a nice change of pace -- you assumed you had enough common sense to take premature headache meds, knowing how bad the hangover got for them. But your drunken self did not have the thought of changing out of your stiff, uncomfortable going-out clothes, instead draping yourself across the mattress smelling like the shitty bar you had careened in and leaving every part of your body pissed off. Sweaty fabric clung to your skin, leaving you feeling soggy and misworn and eagerly wishing you could have made better choices earlier.

You groaned and slipped out of the comforter, already missing its heavy warmth. Slowly you staggered over to your desk where you must have left the Advil for that morning. “Thank you, past me,” you sighed, twisting open the cap with a grimace.

A paper caught your eye, small amongst the stacks of work files you had yet to comb through. Downing one pill, you grabbed it, taking in the scribbled letters through tired, squinting eyes.

Leaving this for you because you’re too drunk to remember what I said. Take these and drink water before you die of a hangover. I’d hate to find your body that way. Also left your things on your kitchen counter, they’re not stolen. Also left your burrito in your microwave -- you insisted on buying one last night, so don’t forget about it. Take care.

Underneath were two lines of thick black scribbles, covering up whatever was written under that and leaving only a scrawled ‘Diego’ as your final clue. But, despite whatever mystery the pen covered up, you smiled and pinned the note to your bulletin board.

“Thanks, bud,” you grinned, speaking like he was there to hear. “Hope I wasn’t too annoying last night.”

You went about your morning with a smile despite the pounding pulverising your muscles, and enjoying the lazy Sunday hours spent cleaning up. You even spoiled yourself with a long shower, eating up your hot water minutes with joy, knowing you’d hate yourself for it two weeks later. After an hour of cleaning up, washing your face free of the makeup smudged across your cheeks and devouring that burrito left for you, you finally felt refreshed and better about things.

You glanced up at the time. Diego would be up, probably manning the desk for Al as he did most Sunday’s (the facet of his job he hated most). But, at least that meant he would be available to take your call. You missed him, even after seeing him just the night before, and selfishly craved the distraction of his low rasp. Maybe you could even make him laugh, cheer him up during his boring shift.

But five minutes later, you were left disappointed when none of the three calls went through. You tried not to think too hard on it -- he was a busy guy, and was either working or doing his other line of work, and ignoring your call meant nothing. Course, it probably didn’t look good for a boxing gym, but...you’d settle.

You would just call back later. He would definitely be available to talk then.

IT HAD BEEN A WEEK SINCE YOU LAST TALKED TO DIEGO, which was the longest either of you had gone without even speaking to one another in the history of your friendship.

On its own, the fact wasn’t so troubling. You were both working adults who had their own lives to sort through, jobs and bills and other friends that you didn’t like half as much as each other, grocery shopping and patrolling the streets alike, filling up both schedules easily. But the two of you were closer than that, and definitely more than just friends that saw each other every other week. You didn’t care about those friends like you cared about Diego.

And it hurt, that he was going to such lengths to avoid you.

Every time you stopped by his gym, Diego was gone. Al simply shrugged off your questions with a non-committal ‘I don’t keep track of the shithead’ and even when you went to knock on his door to check if he was lying, you got nothing. No regulars knew either, which was strange; he always liked to spend his afternoons training with a couple people, sometimes you if you showed up at the right time. You considered doing just that and waiting for him to show -- but even after hours of sparring, the man was nowhere to be seen.

You had tried everything, to the point where Al was annoyed and you felt like you were losing your mind. Surely Diego hadn’t just disappeared off the face of the earth. That didn’t seem right or possible and you knew you hadn’t made him up, because you had the pictures and notes to prove it. You could see his face, disgruntled and sometimes smiling in the photos you had snapped of him -- so why couldn’t you find it anywhere else?

With all options exhausted, you gave up for a few days, allowing yourself the chance to catch your breath. However, with that came the exhaustive process of trying to figure out why on earth Diego was avoiding you. And unfortunately, all that linked back to your last night spent together, and the bitter realisation that you must have fucked up the night somehow and left him not wanting to see you again.

And that thought broke you.

Thursday night was spent crying alone on your couch, trying to push past the depressing thoughts and failing miserably. You couldn’t remember half of what you did that night, but you knew he hadn’t been drinking as much as you, and alcohol always rendered you a ranting, rambling fool that he must have had to deal with. He had got you home, but for what? And what if it was all in that stupid note he had left you, scribbling out the real reason he was leaving you high and dry?

You threw the note out that night, staring down at it in the trash with tears pooling in your eyes. If only you could know why.

The issue was, Diego was more than just a friend to you. Sure your relationship had been built on totally platonic foundations, but it soon blossomed into so much more. He was a companion, your partner, the man who made you feel comfortable enough to wheeze into laughter-induced tears with, or just sob against his shoulder without feeling judged. He was the guy who brought you fast food when you forgot about dinner when work ran late, and the one who let you sleep over when you didn’t want to be alone. He made you smile by just being there -- like, you would open your door (or window, usually) and just grin like an idiot at the mere sight of his face. He was just Diego, but that meant more to you than you had ever been able to say.

Maybe, hell, you loved him. Was that so bad? It hadn’t been intentional to fall -- one day you had just been eating pizza on your countertop way too late in the night, and you looked over and realised your heart had only ever fluttered so violently for him. That he was the guy you could imagine spending the rest of your days with and never getting bored. Of course, you didn’t act on it, knowing that it was a platonic relationship and admitting such would destroy it completely -- but that didn’t mean your official break-up didn’t hurt any less.

You skipped work Friday, something you never did.

When your coworkers called, you wrote it off as illness related, while still drowning in the sorrow of being left high and dry.

Friends hit you up to make some ‘end of the week’ plans, but you ignored them.

You fell asleep at nine that night -- the earliest you had in aeons.

You stayed in bed for most of Saturday, staring at the ceiling or the photos pinned to your walls of the two of you, wondering if this was all just a weird dream you were going to wake up from.

Six hours later, you hadn’t woken up from your dream, but you had made up your mind.

One hour after that, at almost ten o’clock at night, you were rolling up to that same boxing gym you had haunted for that week, dressed in dark activewear and parked a ways away from the actual space. Steely-eyed and with your jaw clenched, you marched out the vehicle and into the building, knowing full well what you were going to find. You had a plan, and whatever it took, you were going to put it into motion.

Maybe it wasn’t the greatest plan, and maybe you had only just come up with it, with barely any time to consider it’s workability and whether or not you were just throwing words together, but nevertheless, you persisted.

You were going to get Diego back.

“DIEGO FUCKING HARGREEVES,”

The man, back turned away, stiffened and immediately went to move,

“run and I will end you, boy,” you growled, stomping towards him with force; he could practically feel each stomp echoing in his chest, cracking him down to the size of a pea. Somehow, he couldn’t move, frozen in place by your command. “Okay?!”

“H-hey, I--”

“--why the hell have you been avoiding me?!”

His eyes were wide and panicked and frantically, he searched all around for a way out. Unfortunately, your body in front of him blocked his only exit, leaving him stammering for answers you knew he didn’t easily have. “Look, I--”

“--I have been worried and scared and sad and out of my mind this entire week,” you snapped, jabbing a finger into his tank top, pushing him back in his steps. Your anger dug deep into him, thorns grabbing onto every bit of vulnerable flesh -- and the worst part was, you were absolutely right.  “You know that? I have called everywhere I could -- I even called the police, wondering if you were in custody and I just missed that news drop. But no, you were just gone, avoiding me for who knows what reason!”

“I didn’t--”

“--what did I do, Diego? What happened, what did I do wrong?”

“Nothing! You’ve done nothing.”

“Then why won’t you even look me in the eyes?” you hissed back, staring up at him in hopes he would catch your gaze. But he didn’t; his eyes still looked far away from yours, searching for something to give him a way out with. “You won’t even look at me, that’s how pissed off you are at me.”

“That’s not true.”

“I get if I did something wrong, but you can’t just pull away from me like that -- this friendship isn’t built on shit like that. I can’t cope with this void left by you deciding you don’t like me anymore!”

“That’s not what happened,” he insisted, his own voice raising in volume. “I swear!”

“Then what, Diego? What possible reason could you have that isn’t related to me doing something wrong? Because that’s all the evidence I got out of this and unlike you, I have zero detective skills so I’m working on one freakin’ theory here!”

His eyes averted to the ground, staring down at the both of your feet, one pair tapping angrily and the other shuffling in hopes of escape. He felt himself folding in, a habit he had broken a long time ago with you, one he thought he had killed off forever. But apparently it hadn’t. 

“You can’t even answer me,” you shuddered. Your sneakers squeaked against the shiny linoleum, leading you back a step. “You - I don’t understand this. At all. And you can’t even give me an answer why? D-don’t I deserve a reason for why I hurt you, Diego?”

“No, c’mon. I…” he hesitated once more as expected. Whatever he was planning on saying died in his mouth and thickened his tongue, leaving him once again stumbling for an excuse. He felt your eyes on him as well as his father, reproachfully clicking his tongue at once again, his stuttering, bumbling fool of a son. “I did...I didn’t…”

“Forget it. Screw this.”

“W-wait, don’t leave--”

“--I’m not leaving!”

He froze, holding onto your bicep in an attempt to stop you. Slowly, his hand fell away, “w-what?”

“I’m not leaving,” you repeated, and slowly he watched as a devilish smile stained your cheeks, pulling away the angry lines of before. “I didn’t come here to leave, I came here for answers. And I guess I just have to fight you for ‘em.”

At that point, Diego’s head had been through the wringer so much, he felt like it could just pop off if he wasn’t careful. And yet still, his eyes bugged out and he stared at you in complete shock, unsure just how he was supposed to process that last sentence.

“I’m sorry, what?!”

You shrugged like it was nothing at all, “c’mon. I know you’re better with the physical stuff and I wanna catch you off guard, finally get an answer out of you. I’m gonna, like, fight you for the truth.”

He watched as you toed off your shoes and shrugged off your thin jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you with little care. You seemed ready, like you had planned this all along -- and had you? What was the reason behind all this? Was there something that he just wasn’t getting, in his state of emotional disarray? Or were you just losing your mind because of him?

“L-look, I’m s-sorry, but I,” he paused, trying to form the syllables in his mouth so they weren’t so thick and jumbled. “I can’t just fight you.”

“Sure you can. We spar all the time.”

“But w-w-why?”

Once more, your shoulders lifted and fell; ever the nonchalant dramatic. “Call it a bet. I win, you tell me why you avoided me for so long. And if you win, which you probably won’t but if you do…” you grimaced. “I’ll leave and you never have to see me again.”

Diego baulked. “I don’t want that.”

“Clearly you do,” you jabbed back. “Right?”

“No. I don’t. I don’t want to lose you.”

You huffed; clearly you didn’t believe him, but you also seemed set on the idea that you were definitely going to win, so he wasn’t sure where he stood in that. “Fine, pick your prize and keep it to yourself. I don’t care.”

Diego still hesitated, hovering to the side as you wrapped your hands. There seemed no way out of the situation, but surely there had to be - surely you weren’t just going to hop into the ring for an explanation.

Was this some ill-fated revenge?

You must have noticed his expression, because he heard you laughing from a whiles away. “I’m not looking to hurt you, Diego. Trust me, no matter what you do, I’d never want to do that.”

His heart fluttered.

“It’s just,” you cocked your head, thinking over your words before smiling again, “like you said when you first started training me. Freestyle, baby.”

You had deepened your voice tremendously to mock his own -- and while it was a horrible impression, it did call back to the one you did before of him. Not that you seemed to remember that, you had been piss drunk, but the thought still made him cringe.

All this, because of him. He screwed it all up and for what?

“Rules are the same as always. First person to pin the other down for more than five beats wins. No serious hits, so like, don’t break my nose or anything.”

“I can’t do this,” he mumbled, even as he stepped into the ring. “We don’t need to do this. We can just talk.”

You sighed and looked back at him. There was a fierceness in your eyes, a determination for something he wasn’t quite sure of -- like there was a plan in motion, only he couldn’t figure out where the steps lead. “I didn’t come here to walk away, Diego. I’m here to win a bet and get my friend back, and also kick his ass if I have to because I’m desperate. You can’t convince me to leave, so wrap your hands and let’s get this going!”

“But-”

“-it’s either this or I just stare at you until you crack,” you said, no longer smiling. “And I doubt you want that typ’a torture, do you?”

He stared at you askance. “Really?”

You didn’t answer him with words that time.

The fight was fast, and almost evenly matched -- you had a slight advantage with your eye on your prize, and he was faltering with every other blow knowing he couldn’t bear to hurt you. But the pace picked up and soon it was like you were one fluid being, predators locked on and desperate to claw the other away from them while simultaneously, drawing them back in. Fists flew and every so often he saw the sparks fly from the fire in your eyes, catching on everything he turned from and leaving him surrounded by the flames you spilled.

For a moment, Diego thought he had it. He had managed to pivot away from your last onslaught and pulled you away from the centre, edging into the corner where he could finally pin you down. His arms outstretched and for a moment he was actually smiling because it felt like the good old days -- sparring way too late into the night when he should have been working with the girl he secretly loved and the stars watching from way above, admiring the gruesomely pretty sight.

But in a flash, everything switched.

He lunged, you slid.

When he fumbled, your legs wrapped around his own, pulling him back and flipping over one another like beetles rolling in the hot sun.

You were everywhere, smothering his smoke with your body, forcing him down before he even realised what was happening.

Diego blinked, and suddenly you were on top of him, legs on either side of his waist and your hands holding his own up above his head. Your expression edged on feral as you grinned down at him, straddling him and fighting everything he pushed back with.

But he couldn’t fight back. Not when you were on him and everywhere and he could smell your shampoo as your hand dangled around him, dripping your scent around him like he was in that poppy field from Wizard of Oz, ready to give into the toxin and be one with the flowers. Your hands held his own and he wished he could slide his fingers into the clasp, holding them to him and kiss each bruised knuckle with tenderness he didn’t know he possessed. Your hips, legs, chest pressed against his own, both heaving and waiting for the other to move and interrupt the tension rising with every passing second.

“One,” you began, voice low and teasing. Did you know what you did to him? “Two…”

Diego writhed in your hold, but it was no use. You had him. He was yours and he would be satisfied to be so for the rest of your days, if only you never let him go. His gaze flitted across your face, tracing the way your eyebrows furrowed and relaxed with the numbers, eyes still wide and filled with emotions he didn’t quite know how to read. Sweat beaded on your brow and stained your cheeks and yet still, he thought you were as perfect as you could be, mere inches from his own darting eyes.

“Four...four and a half…” your smile grew and you got a little closer, almost touching his face with your own. “Five…”

He didn’t dare to breathe.

“I win, Hargreeves.”

But despite the hushed declaration, you did not move. Your body stayed over his, hands pushing his own down with gentle force but keeping him locked under you. Your eyes remained on his own, locking them in place as your face grew nearer. Soon enough your nose was just touching his own, nudging softly and turning so it fit better against his lips, which were parted and so close to pressing against your own-

-but you pulled away.

Just as Diego’s eyes had shut, your weight left his and he was left to sit up confused and watch you stomp away. You slipped out of the ring and down to the ground with a soft thump. He watched you unwrap your knuckles and to his surprise, he saw your hands shake with the movement. 

“This was a mistake,” you mumbled to yourself. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear. “This was stupid, I have to-”

“-don’t go,” he mumbled. In one swift movement Diego had jumped back to his feet and pulled after you. You stumbled back a few paces; he raced after, hurrying to your side with an aggression he didn’t know he possessed. “Don’t go.”

“Diego, I-”

“-I pushed you away because I screwed up,” he said, all in one breath and so fast he wasn’t sure if you could understand him. “I messed this up. We’re only supposed to be friends, I know that, but I-I can’t not be in love with you, not when you’re that perfect and so beautiful and you make me smile e-even when I feel like the shittiest sh-sh-shit and-”

“-kiss me.”

“What?”

You stepped forward, angling yourself just under his chin. Your chest heaved. “Kiss me, asshole.”

And slowly his hands moved on their own accord, cupping your cheeks and holding you to him. His eyes darted down once, staring at the pink lips before reaching your own again for a silent affirmation. When you nodded in his hands he acted, pulling you to him quickly and pressing his lips against his own, finally.

It was fast and passionate, both beings pulling at the other, urging the other closer than the skin they already pressed against. His one hand left your jaw to hold your neck, angling your face so he could better caress it, smudging himself across your lips with little care. He felt your own touch against his back, sliding down to his hips and pulling -- without even thinking, he moaned, feeling your lower body roll up against him and leave his mind in overdrive.

You pulled away for air finally, gasping only to be pulled in again for a softer, gentler kiss. He pecked the corners of your mouth before finally taking your lower in between his teeth, biting softly before sucking on the tender swollen skin. He pulled away then, dropping his forehead to your own as you both took another breath.

“If…” you paused to inhale, grinning through the gasp of oxygen, “if I knew you were holding all that back, Diego, I would have kissed your ass a lot sooner.”

“I’m...I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry,” you murmured. He felt your hands leave his waist, pulling up to the one he still had cradled against your cheek. Your head leaned into the gentle touch. Even as your fingers held his. “I just...is this why you stopped talking to me?”

Diego shook his head softly against your own. Once more his heart faltered and threatened to burst, but he ignored it. “No, I just...I realised that I was-”

“-sorry, I don’t - you have an eyelash.” He froze as your fingers stroked his cheek, pulling away the evidence that had caught your attention. Your eyes darted up to his for a moment, and he watched as they widened and brightened under his perplexed gaze. “Your eyes really are pretty.”

His heart stopped for a beat.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“That’s why I stopped!” he exclaimed. He pulled away from you then, gesticulating wildly around like the air was going to supply you with answers. “That’s why!”

You frowned, cocking your head like a lost puppy. “You...because of your pretty eyes?!”

“What? Wait, no, that’s not why.”

“I’m so confused right now, bud, and I just--”

“--last week,” he rushed, cutting you off before he could lose momentum again. “I took you home. You were wasted, and you kept talking and - and you told me I had pretty eyes.”

Still, you looked bewildered.

“I-I have been obsessed with you since the day I met you,” he said, soft and unsure if any of the words would come out right. Or if they themselves were the right ones to say. “I couldn’t help it. And I didn’t let myself act on it because I knew that it wouldn’t wo-wo-work out, you’d get mad and I’d lose you. I rathered having you as a friend, then losing you cause I was in love with you.”

“Love?” you questioned, barely a breath of a sound lingering between them.

“But that night, you went on and on and I realised then that I was too gone to keep it in. And I realised that you wouldn’t feel the same...and I didn’t want to hurt you, so I left. And…”

“Diego Hargreeves, that is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”

His brow furrowed low, anger mingling with befuddlement on his flushed skin. “Hey, I-”

“-first of all, you really think I would just hate you because you thought of me as more than a friend?! Even if I didn’t like you - which I do, by the way - I wouldn’t do that, I value you too much. But second of all, you’re telling me that you never noticed how much I liked you back?!”

“I-”

“-I have felt like an idiot for the past year, holding in my feelings for you and wishing you could feel the same way. And when you left, I thought - I thought that was it, and that I screwed things up when I was drunk, which I guess I did but-”

“-you didn’t screw anything up, I did!”

“No you didn’t, I did! I’m the drunken initiator!”

“I shouldn’t have just left!”

“Okay, so we both screwed up!” you shouted, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation. “But dammit, Diego, I have loved you for ages, and you - we - this is what it came to?!”

“Well, I-”

“-I can’t believe this!” you chortled. “All this time?!”

“I guess so,” he said, voice catching on the ‘so’. “I guess, yeah.”

“Holy crap.”

“Ha. Yeah.”

“I love you,” you giggled, breathless and still flushed, messy and beautiful in the shitty gym lighting. “I love you, Diego Hargreeves.”

His heart didn’t break. It didn’t even crack. Diego instead felt the slight twinge as the organ settled in his chest, content and buzzing with the panted cry. The breaklines of before didn’t feel so harsh, mended by your shiny eyes and swollen lips that he wanted to stare at until the end of his days. For once, his heart actually felt whole.

“I love you too,” Diego mumbled, smiling like a little kid. The muscles in his face, rusted over with age and disuse, groaned at the extreme grin but he kept it on anyways, smiling down at you with the strangest feeling of happiness coursing through his body. “A lot.”

And you beamed. “Have I ever told you, your eyes look like, a thousand times prettier when you smile?”

A/N: WHY DO I KEEP WRITING ALCOHOL BASED IDIOTS TO LOVERS FICS?? Have I any other creative thoughts?? Does this make me seem like that’s all I think about?? These are the thoughts that now run through my mind as I rush to post this...and truthfully, I don’t have an answer. I swear I’m a little more creative! I just...have a hankering for these things. Oops.

I wrote this weirdly super super fast and it’s super nonsensical, especially the middle bits? But I weirdly like it. I’m not sure. The plot is a ~little~ wonky but I’m rolling with it!

I’m open to make more stuff on here, I’ve gotten quite bad at it but I like writing these things as practice pieces. So, if you want to read more, requests are open and you can find a list of prompts (if you want them) in my masterlist. I’m putting out an updated list later on in the month, but I also am just open to have any sorts of requests. xx

(also as always - if you enjoyed and you want more, follow, reblog, and consider buying me a kofi! linked in my bio bc tumblr doesn’t like direct links on posts, please check it out if you’re feeling generous because I’m recently unemployed and any bit helps. but sharing this post and showing others the work is appreciated a great deal and i love you if you do!)

[dekinswritings]

LWA - Maid for you

Akko is invited to spend a week at Diana’s estate. Things don’t go exactly as planned. Diakko

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: Traditionally late as ever, happy birthday @bcheddar13! I wanted to get this done much earlier but I got caught up with IRL stuff and episode 23.

[Ao3] [FF.net]

CRASH.

The spring break plans had been simple: when Akko found out that Lotte would be going back home to her parents’ shop and that Sucy would be going to a mountain, which name Akko couldn't remember, to do mushroom hunting, Akko had been left alone in her dorm room to do absolutely nothing during her week off. That was until somehow word had reached Diana that she was on her own and invited to accompany her to the Cavendish estate for the duration of Spring Break. Weighing her options of being on her own in Luna Nova and eating only potato dishes for a whole week or going to Diana's place and get to eat all sorts of delicious meals including, but not limited, to steaks and freshly baked bread, Akko was quick to take Diana’s offer.

It was all supposed to be simple until that ear piercing shatter.

“Miss Kagari! Do you have any idea of what you have done?!” Head maid Anna questioned Akko who stood next to the remains of the broken vase on the floor.

“W-well it's not my fault someone put that thing in my way! How was I supposed to see that if I was walking backwards!” Akko defended herself, pointing at the countless pieces on the floor before pointing at Diana. “Why didn't you warn me?!”

“I did, Akko,” Diana frowned when she was suddenly accused. “But you were so distracted that you didn't listen.”

“Besides, who cares? It was just a vase, there must be like a hundred of those here. Right Diana?” Akko asked with a hopeful voice.

“Just a vase?! Young lady! The thing you just destroyed was a family heirloom! It was the very same vase the Cavendish had used to carry healing spring water for the wounded in times of need!”

“Truly a one of a kind treasure, and you just broke it into dozens of pieces.”

“W-well, it's not my fault someone put such a valuable thing right there in the open!” Akko stood her ground, pointing at the pedestal where the vase had once rested, which also laid broken in the floor.

“And I do hope you have the money to repay for such an invaluable family heirloom. How exactly do you plan to compensate for it young lady?”

Under such an intense gaze from the Cavendish maid, Akko couldn't help but to chuckle nervously and look at Diana pleadingly.

“Anna, I think I have an idea of how Akko can repay for the vase.”

Diana’s tone of voice told Akko that whatever was that she had in mind, it wouldn't be a great idea.

“Wait, why do I have to be Diana’s personal maid?!” Akko demanded to know as she was getting dressed up in a maid uniform.

“You should be grateful that the Young Mistress has given you this opportunity,” Anna huffed as she finished tying the apron on Akko’s uniform. “You are certainly in no economic position to pay for the vase, are you Miss Kagari?” “If that vase was sooo important, why hasn't Diana just fixed it with magic? I'm sure someone as taaalented as her could do it. Or let me try!”

“Unfortunately magic can not fix that vase. To prevent any sabotage or poisoning of the healing water it was made with a special clay that nullified any magic directed to it and its contents.” Anna explained as she kept on fixing details on Akko’s uniform.

Akko grumbled as she tried to think of what to say next and ended up sighing defeatedly. “Well, whatever. At least the uniform’s kinda cute,” she said and looked at the mirror once Anna was done dressing her up. It was a very simple design, like the one all the other female servants in the estate, except this one had a knee-length skirt and a few more ribbons in the collar and the upper arms.

“Why do I have to be Diana’s personal maid anyways? Couldn’t someone else be that?” Akko stuck out her tongue in slight disgust at the thought of serving Diana as some sort of lackey.

“Yes, Miss Kagari, but the Young Mistress specifically requested it.” “Eh?! Diana did?!”

“Yes, she explained to me that because as her personal maid you would not need to do any sort of domestic chores such as cleaning and cooking. She said that you would end up making a mess if you were made to do those kind of tasks.”

“She what?! I am good at chores!” Akko protested and huffed, “Professor Finnelan makes me all sort of things like broom maintenance and cleaning duties!”

“Well, I am certain she also designated you as her personal servant so you could be with her throughout your stay here. I’m sure she would not want her guest doing all sorts of labor and also be away from her.”

Akko hummed in deep thought as a response, thinking about what the maid had just said before she felt a slap on her back. “Ow! What’s wrong with you?!” Akko hissed.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you! Your posture is all wrong! A maid needs to look proper and always have her back straight!” Anna put a hand on Akko’s shoulder and the other on her back and straightened her. “The Young Mistress might have been kind enough to go easy on you but that does not mean I will allow you to be a slouch as a maid! And wipe the horrendous frown off your face Miss Kagari!”

The little hope that Akko had for something fun as a maid had been crushed by constant berating of the proper etiquette of a maid: how to stand up, how to speak, how to walk, how to breathe, how to brew tea, how to serve tea, how much sugar Diana liked in her tea; the moment Anna had left her sights Akko slouched and let out a groan.

“This is gonna suck, I can already tell.”

“Akko? Is that you? Come in”

Akko covered her mouth as she realized that she had been left right outside Diana’s bedroom. There was no escaping it now. “Y-yeah, what’s up?” she opened the door slightly and took a peek. She almost fell down when Diana fully opened the door.

“I need you,” Diana’s words were so direct but also soft that Akko felt her cheeks get involuntarily warmer. “... to fix my bed, please.”

Akko was about to yell that she should do it herself, but reminding herself of what she was wearing, she instead let out a small groan and walked towards the bed to tidy it up.

“And when you're done accompany me for breakfast,” Diana finished brushing her hair in front of her vanity. As Akko finished fixing the bed she took a closer look of the bedroom. Diana seemed very well sufficient and in no need of a maid; she wondered if she had been always like that or if her stay in Luna Nova had made her like this. Why did she even need her as a personal maid? Akko frowned, thinking of how she could be asleep right now.

The trip to the dining room had been a long walk of awkward silence. Awkward for Akko at the very least, as Diana simply remained silent as she led the way through the hallways of the estate. Now that she thought about it, Akko would've lost her way in this place just looking for the bathroom.

Once they arrived to the dining room, Diana took her seat near a corner of the table and Akko sat on the other side of the corner.

“Breakfast, yay!” Akko cheered as she watered at whatever could possibly come out of the kitchen.

“Miss Kagari!” Anna’s scolding voice made the brunette jump in her seat, “servants shall eat after the Cavendish have eaten! Now please, get off that chair and-”

“Anna,” Diana spoke up, interrupting the head maid, “it's alright, Akko will have breakfast with me.”

“But Young Lady, as your personal maid I simply can not allow her to-”

“Anna,” Diana repeated her name, this time with a louder voice.

“I-i understand Young Lady, forgive me,” Anna bowed her head and walked away into the neighbouring kitchen before coming out with several other servants to serve breakfast.

“Yay~” Akko smiled as she had her plate served in front of her. A traditional western style breakfast was a welcome change from the starch based diet of Luna Nova.

“Akko,” Diana called right before the other could start to dig in. “Tea,” she said while motioning to her empty teacup.

Akko, while making sure it scraped the floor, got off her chair and took the teapot that was very well in reach for Diana. “How many sugarcubes, Diana?” she asked and tried to keep her voice as calm as possible.

“That's Mistress to you Miss Kagari!” Anna yelled at her again.

“E-er… m-mistress…” she had to force the word out of her mouth.

“Two, please,” Diana almost sounded pleased, which drew Akko even more on the edge. Doing her best to keep her disgust inside her gut, Akko put the two sugarcubes in the tea and stirred the tea for a few moments.

“Done, miiiiiss… t-tress,” Akko moved the teacup closer to Diana. Diana took the teacup and took a sip from it before putting it down.

Without even a nod of acknowledgement, Akko went back to her seat with a ruined mood. At least the food had been good, even if she had had to serve tea one more time.

Thankfully for Akko the rest of the day had carried on without much nerve wracking duties happening. After breakfast, Diana had retreated to her room and all she had to do hand Diana research material and occasionally put back a few books in their respective spots. They only left the bedroom for lunch and dinner and bathroom trips.

“Well, I suppose it’s time to call it a day,” Diana announced and closed the book she was reading. “Thank you for today.”

“Finally!” Akko raised her arms in celebration and then unceremoniously let out a long yawn.

“Well, I’ll be in you care tomorrow again. I expect you to be here at nine in the morning.” Akko nodded and was about to leave before Diana spoke up again, “oh, and Anna had your belongings moved to the neighboring bedroom, so you can be always be quickly available.”

“Eeeh…” Well, at least I won’t get lost now. “Well, good night Dian- er… mistress.”

“Good night, Akko.”

Two days passed by without any sort of incident. Well, incidents that didn’t involve Akko tripping and spilling tea, knocking off stacks of books, scaring off wild critters for magic practice, or break a table. The only thing that Akko didn’t seem to screw up was stirring Diana’s tea after putting in the two sugarcubes.

“Akko,” Diana put down her book and turned to her personal maid, who was sitting on her bed and idly waving her wand in the air.

“Hmm? What’s up Diana?” Akko didn’t even bother to look at the blonde.

“Andrew is going to stay for tonight, he’ll be arriving just in time for dinner.” Diana got off her chair and walked to her closet and going through her clothes.

“Andrew? Why is he coming?” Akko put away her wand, Diana having gotten her attention. “Isn’t dinner in a couple of minutes too?”

“He’s simply passing by on his way to some vacation home. He’ll be leaving early morning.” Diana explained as she looked between two dresses to put on. She ended up going for a light blue one. “Yes it is, that’s why I’m changing.” “Oh, okay,” Akko nodded and hopped off the bed, but before she left Diana spoke again.

“I-I’ll be needing your help to put on the dress.” Akko swore she saw Diana blush for a moment, but Diana had turned away.

“Eh?! W-why me?!” Akko pointed at herself as her cheeks got redder by the second.

“B-because that’s one of your duties as a personal maid. Now turn around and don’t look, I will let you know when I need your help.”

Akko quickly nodded and turned away from Diana; once the latter has made sure she wasn’t looking, she started to undress. Diana felt her cheeks getting hotter and started regretting not just telling Akko to leave. Akko tried to get her mind busy with anything but Diana, so she started to look at anything that caught her attention in the bedroom. Unfortunately, all she found instead was Diana’s reflection on the vanity next to the desk. Her entire face went beet red as her eyes were glued on the reflection on the mirror. Her mind should’ve been telling her to look away but all it could think of how pretty Diana was. The brunette let out a relieved sigh she didn’t know she was holding when Diana started to put on her dress.

“Akko?”

“Y-y-yeah?!” Akko felt her heart jump out of her chest when her name had suddenly been called.

“Your help, please,” Diana tapped her shoulder and turned around, showing a zipper on the back of the dress that had yet to be closed. Gulping down her nervousness, Akko’s had trembled as she reached out for the zipper and closed it. “Now, Andrew will be arriving any second now, so let’s get going.”

As Diana left, Akko put her hand on her chest as she tried to calm down her rapid heartbeats and cool off her head.

By the time they made it to the dining room, Andrew was already on a chair waiting for dinner.

“Andrew,” Diana’s greeting was short and polite with a nod.

“Diana, thanks for having me tonight, you’re a real life saver.” Andrew smiled until he noticed something, or someone, “Akko? Is that you?”

“Andrew! It’s been a while.” Akko grinned and walked up to him.

“What’s with the maid outfit?” He asked as he took a closer look at it, “don’t tell me Luna Nova has been short staffed and has started to turn their students into cleaning staff.”

“What? No, I’m just Diana’s maid,” Akko laughed at Andrew’s assumption. “It’s a long story.”

“Personal maid? Is that right, Diana?”

“Yes, I made her into my personal maid,” Diana began to explain as she sat down, “I doubt she can do any proper house chores so I made her serve me.”

“Huh?! I can do anything if I put my heart into it you know!” Akko crossed her arms and turned away from Diana.

“Well, it oddly suits you, Akko,” Andrew said as he noticed smaller details on her uniform. “You look… better.”

“At least someone knows how to compliment me,” the maid huffed before smiling at Andrew, “Thank you for your kind words, Master Andrew~” Akko bowed and raised her skirt a little bit.

Diana gasped and was about to retort but was cut off by plates of food being served in front of them.

“Oh Master Andrew, let me serve you some water,” Akko spoke in a way courteous way that Diana had never heard before and saw her pour him his drink.

The dinner had devolved into Akko servicing Andrew for the whole meal, properly doing so as Anna had told her on her first day, all the while Akko stared at an increasingly flustered Diana. Andrew was slightly confused by all of this, but banter with Akko kept him entertained throughout the dinner.

Diana had barely touched her food before she put down her fork and stood up.

“I’ve lost my appetite, so I’ll excuse myself. Enjoy your meal you two.” She spoke sharply and to the point before pacing out of the dining room.

“Akko, were you trying to upset her? Because I haven’t seen her that upset since Daryl tried to sell family heirlooms to my father.”

“Well… I uh…” Akko found herself at a loss for words. She certainly was trying to throw some jabs at Diana, but she never wanted to get her that angry. “I should go after her,” she whispered before getting up and following Diana.

Akko didn’t see Diana anywhere from outside the dining room, but her gut told her just where to find her, and her gut was never wrong. Most of the time. Making haste, she headed for Diana’s bedroom.

“Diana?” Akko called out as she knocked on the door of the bedroom. “Are you there? I’m coming in.”

Akko found Diana sitting on the edge of her bed, looking down at the floor.

“Diana?” she approached her slowly, eventually sitting next to her.

“Did you hate it that much?” Diana’s voice was barely a whisper. Akko only made a confused sound, so she clarified. “Did you hate being my personal maid that much? If so, I’m sorry.”

“E-eh? N-no! I didn’t hate it! … that much.” Akko put her hand on Diana’s and tried to reassure her with a small squeeze. “Don’t apologize, I should be apologizing. I tried to upset you too hard.”

“Well, it worked. Congratulations, Akko,” Diana’s voice seemed out of breath. Clearly still upset, Akko tried squeezing her hand again.

“You just seemed so convinced that I couldn’t do a good job that I wanted to prove you wrong.” Akko explained herself, now ashamed of herself for trying to do so the way she did.

“Well, you successfully made me jealous. Good job.”

“Wait, jealous? You were jealous?!”

Diana’s face quickly went from gloom to an embarrassed red. “Y-yes, is there anything wrong with that?!” she snapped, catching Akko off guard. “I invited you here to spend time with me and you seem to have the most fun with Andrew! Is it so wrong to feel jealous?!”

For the second time today, Diana had managed to flabbergast Akko. All the brunette could do was stare at Diana as she tried to put together what to say.

“Well, you also made me dress up like this and do all of those maid things.”

“Yes, because Anna wouldn’t have had it otherwise, despite trying to convince her that there was no point in getting so upset over some old vase.” Diana sighed and looked away, finally seeming to calm down. “B-besides, I addressed you as my personal maid so you could keep me company…” she explained as her cheeks remained red.

“Aww, Diana!” Akko threw herself over Diana and pulled her into a hug, earning another bright blush from the blonde. “Still, I’m sorry about all the stuff with Andrew.”

Diana took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I-it’s okay, I forgive you. I was at fault too.”

“Weeell, I’m still your maid you know!” Akko pointed out as she let go of Diana. “Anything I can do you make it up to you, Mistress?”

Diana thought for a moment and started to feel her face getting hotter.

“W-well, Akko,” Diana took a deep breath and looked at her, “w-would you help undress me out of this dress?”

A/N: I wanted to make the interaction between Akko and Andrew longer and more detailed but you probably wouldn’t have liked that. Special thanks to @nontann for betaing!