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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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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She smoothed her hand over his hip in lieu of finishing her sentence, and shifted to press a soft kiss to his neck.
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Oh well, they'd notice soon enough.
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Annie smiled, and with that go-ahead, she slid her hand lower, pressing her palm lightly against the front of his shorts and cupping him through the fabric. "Yes, you definitely do," she murmured, kissing him again.
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Which was probably good because, again, ice pack.
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Her other hand, naturally, wrapped around him, immediately adopting a smooth and steady rhythm as Annie simultaneously deepened the kiss.
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She shifted herself a little closer, briefly removing her hand just to quickly slide her fingers between her thighs for a little lubrication, before resuming stroking him at a quicker, more urgent pace. Her mouth moved to his neck, biting lightly before flicking her tongue out against the area.
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