Diego Hargreeves (
knife_bender) wrote2021-05-18 06:40 am
Entry tags:
MHA # 2 | Tuesday Evening
Yesterday was a...success? If one could call beating the shit out of a guy in a stupid looking uniform a success. It hadn't really done a lot to make Diego feel better overall, but at least he felt like he did something other than sit there twiddling his thumbs.
Now he really didn't have much to do until class on Friday (where he was determined not to go down so easily next time!), so he was having a quiet evening in with American Ninja Warrior on TV and a protein shake because his cooking skills were non-existent and that counted as dinner.
[For the gf, but open before she gets there if you'd like! And now NWS]
Now he really didn't have much to do until class on Friday (where he was determined not to go down so easily next time!), so he was having a quiet evening in with American Ninja Warrior on TV and a protein shake because his cooking skills were non-existent and that counted as dinner.
[For the gf, but open before she gets there if you'd like! And now NWS]

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She would probably shortly add that giving into impatience was part of healing, too.
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When he got to the welt there he very carefully pressed a kiss there.
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"Promise I'll say something if it hurts," she assured him softly, trailing her fingertips along his shoulder and tracing them down along his bicep. She wasn't used to this, but that had always helped her when he was hurt, or when she was worried she might hurt him.
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But this was helping a lot as far as...non-medically.
She squirmed a little under him, her skin breaking out in goosebumps because yeah, she wasn't sure that kiss-it-better kisses typically involved tongue, but she certainly wasn't objecting.
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Which was part of why she'd come here. It was partly that she'd promised to show him when and if she ever got shot, but mostly because she knew being with Diego would make her feel better in just about every way.
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But she'd at least lightened up on the idea that she was going to hurt him. (Or, at least, had come around to the idea that Diego was kind of into it when she did.)
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So, you know. Another incentive not to get hurt.
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"I'm still so intrigued by these handcuffs," she admitted, and that blush darkened a little. "But oh, no. Not a stern look. Poor me."
Honestly, a stern look in this context would probably kind of do it for her, too, so. There was that.
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She really wasn't especially incapacitated. If she had to overpower him -- or just wanted to -- she could and would. She was just sort of enjoying watching him take care of her.
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The thigh he'd kissed shifted under his touch, though Annie was sort of trying to hold still for him.
(But wasn't it flattering how she was already having trouble with that?)
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Diego did put both hands on her hips to help keep her still, careful of not brushing against where she had been hit. He bit down on her inner thigh, just to test that hold a little. And to be a tease. He could manage both.
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Annie meant for that to come out a lot more demanding and stern, instead of the soft plea it ended up sounding like.
Her hips did shift a little -- or, at least, she tried to move and was met with resistance, and that was kind of dizzyingly hot in and of itself. She slid a hand along his shoulder, her touch a lot less deliberate and exploratory than it had been moment ago, and instead more desperate, like she just kind of needed to hold onto him in some capacity.
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Going down on someone helped with the healing process, right?
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"Fuck, I love you," Annie murmured, moving that hand from his shoulder to the back of his head and trying to squirm around a little bit to try to get a leg over his shoulder. (And to feel his fingers against her hips, which she kind of loved.)
Again, blatantly breaking the no-moving rules, but she also might have been trying to see how much she could get away with.
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