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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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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She skimmed her foot against his back, just kind of needing an outlet for how things were already starting to build in the best way, and her other hand rested on her own chest, her fingers idly tracing the curve of one breast.
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It'd be nice, but he would deal.
He moved his hand faster, pressing in a second finger as he bit down on her thigh again.
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But that didn't mean she wouldn't still try to look after his needs, once she had the focus to think about anything but how good this felt, because yes, he was absolutely succeeding at distracting her.
Her leg tightened a little over his shoulder, as did her grip on his head, and Annie tipped her own head back with a soft sigh. Her free hand traced along her own skin, mindful of the welt on her chest as she experimentally brushed a thumb across a nipple. (If he'd been watching, she might have stopped out of shyness; since he wasn't, she was feeling bold enough to see what felt good.)
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He pressed his fingers in harder, ducking his head to slip his tongue between them again.
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Just in case that wasn't actually what he was going for, here. Seemed likely, though.
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It was barely a few seconds more before she was clenching around his fingers, her leg squeezing his shoulder as all of that babbling fell apart into a wordless moan.
Consider Annie very thoroughly and successfully distracted.
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She might have been a little biased on this.
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Especially when there were kisses, and she could instead shift a little closer to lightly run her hand along his side, her touch light and lazy and slow for the moment.
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But there was nothing at all wrong with her hands, and she was demonstrating as much given how she'd reached forward to lightly rest her free hand on his chest while the other dipped a little lower to run a fingertip just under the waistband of his shorts.
She also nipped at his lower lip in return, just for good measure.
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