defenderofdesmoines | MHA #2 | Late, Late Wednesday Night (or Thursday Morning?)

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MHA #2 | Late, Late Wednesday Night (or Thursday Morning?)

So, the thing about being a very in-demand person back home was that you tended to be kind of...well, in-demand. So while Annie could usually count on being able to skate out of work on Wednesdays in time to change her clothes and grab a jello shot or three, tonight had kept her late at the tower.

It was...sort of nice? Because it wasn't just a lollipop meeting they'd kept her for. She, A-Train and Maeve had actually talked about strategy, the saves they'd each done that week -- Noir had been there too but, you know, not a lot of talking going on there -- and how they were supposed to move forward as a team of five for the moment. Especially when their auxiliary member, if he even counted still, hadn't shown his face in New York since last year (because he was probably scared of it being burned off, or so Annie liked to tell herself), and their supposed leader could probably lose his position to a glass of water in a cape if it was left up to public opinion at the moment.

Which was why he hadn't been there, Annie assumed. She hadn't asked. She'd actually just enjoyed kind of...feeling like a team, for once. Only took the better part of a year.

In any case, it was very late when she'd managed to fire a text off to Diego to let him know she'd be later still, and thus she was trying to be very quiet when she let her still-uniformed self into the apartment awhile later, in case he was asleep. Equal parts courtesy and imperviousness to paranoid, half-asleep knife-throwing at work here, though Annie certainly wasn't really thinking about the latter.

[for the dude!]

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Annie trailed her hands along Diego's back, one hand finding its way to give his bicep a similar squeeze as the other skimmed fingertips down his spine. She was very appreciative of how he felt right now, and could not seem to stop touching him -- which, to be fair, was a problem she tended to have a lot.

She was still excellent at taking direction, though, and wrapped her leg more snugly around him. Which, of course, brought her hips up against his again, and this time the noise Annie made was more of a helpless little whimper. (Not that she'd ever characterize it that way herself.)

Diego would characterize it was a whimper, and that's what counted. Of course hearing that made him let out a noise that wasn't exactly smooth so they were on even ground here.

He nipped at Annie's lip, and bumped his nose against hers playfully. "Like this?"

"Like this," Annie agreed, partly because this was already doing a lot for her, and partly because if they broke apart to change position she might actually just die, here, in this bed, out of prolonged neediness. She was already flushed and eager to the point of wriggling a little under Diego, trying to press her hips up again, encouragingly. "Please."

A little light begging never hurt anyone, either.

Diego gave a shaky nod before getting both arms under Annie's thighs to line himself up against her. With the both of them as amped up as they were he didn't tease too much, but still pressed in slowly to let her adjust.

Considerate even during a "u up?" quickie, how romantic.

The slowness was appreciated (and, honestly, not that she was thinking about it consciously, would actually be so sweet to Annie in retrospect), since it not only gave her time to adjust to the sensation, but also offered her the opportunity to hike her legs up a little further and angle her hips to assist.

Because she was helpful. Moaning and arching her back a little and mumbling a little, "Oh my God, I love you," and helpful.

"I love you too," Diego mumbled. He ducked his head down to mouth at her neck, trying to distract himself from the immediate need to move.

Annie hooked her legs around his waist, rocking her hips up to meet his but keeping her own movements gentle and easy for the moment as everyone got their bearings -- because let's be real, everyone here knew that gentle, easy, sweet rocking was not going to be the speed at work here for long.

She slid both arms up around Diego, scratching her nails lightly along his back as she tilted her head to press a kiss near his ear. "God, you feel so good."

Diego placed a bite against Annie's neck before leaning up to give her another kiss, feeling like he had some control of his faculties again. "Yeah? You do too."

He rocked his hips up with a little more force behind it, as if to prove that point.

Annie was totally going to reply -- and it was going to be something witty and hot and awesome, too, it totally was -- but that little bit of force was enough to completely just erase her mind for a second, and all that came out was a little gasp as her head dropped back in pleasure.

But it was definitely a happy gasp, and the way Annie tightened her nails against Diego's back was definitely unconscious, thrilled encouragement as she moved with him. "Fucking amazingly good." See? Pure wit. Right there.

Diego was just impressed she could form a full sentence, because he was rapidly losing the ability to do so. A three worded sentence? Not happening for him.

He let out a pleased little noise at the feeling of her nails against his back, more than happy to go along with the (not so) subtle encouragement, rocking his hips again and setting up a steady rhythm.

Annie was not really going to manage a lot more in the multiple-words-strung-together department, no, but she was also proud of herself for getting that much out there.

She planted one foot on the bed for just a little bit of steadiness as she rocked up against him, shifting so the knee of her other leg nudged Diego's arm -- a helpful, if nonverbal, cue that she wanted to loop her leg up over his arm.

"Deeper." But that might also help with communicating what she wanted. Not multiple words, no, but she might be able to swing one at a time if it was something really important, see?

"Fuck." There was a little bit of faltering in his rhythm between the verbal and non-verbal cues, but he held it together for the most part. He hooked Annie's leg over his arm, unable to keep from moaning loudly as the angle changed.

The steady, gentle rhythm was quickly exchanged for something a rougher, Diego placing his free hand up against the headboard to give himself the leverage needed to match his movements with his growing desperation.

God, his reactions just always made everything so much better for Annie -- not to mention that every time something she suggested or requested in bed went over well (which was every time so far), it made her that much more confident going forward.

Words weren't really going to happen more, no, but Annie could do her best to arch up against Diego and match his rhythm, even as she practically saw stars from the angle change. She muffled a groan by leaning up to press a kiss to Diego's chest, flicking her tongue out against a nipple while she was at it, and that was surely just going to help everyone's stamina, right?

It was doing absolutely nothing for his stamina but fuck if it didn't feel amazing. Diego let out a loud groan, losing any sort of rhythm he had as he thrust up harder.

"Touch yourself," he panted. Both of his hands were occupied. And it was one of his favorite things to see.

Ugh, and that was one of her favorite things to hear from him -- even just the request itself, delivered all panting and sexy like that, sent an actual shudder through Annie.

And, of course, she was more than happy to comply. She slipped her hand down between them to circle her finger against her clit, her breathing going completely ragged in the process. "Close -- close, close, clo-- "

That last had turned into a drawn-out moan in lieu of completing the word, as Annie's eyes illuminated in the dark and everything just fell utterly apart for her and she did her best to keep moving with Diego through it.

God, that was never going to stop being hot. Between that, the feel of her tightening up around him and the fact that she hadn't stopped moving was enough to get him to the edge very quickly.

It only took another couple seconds of uncoordinated thrusts before he was coming too, tightening the hold he had on Annie's leg to keep them tangled up together for as long as he could.

That was not going to be a problem, considering Annie was clinging to him like her life depended on it. Boneless afterglow would probably hit her in a moment; right now, she was still seeing spots and trying to maintain every possible point of contact with Diego.

She dotted uncoordinated kisses along his upper chest, still trying to catch her breath, and her hands uncurled themselves against his back, smoothing out an apology over the marks she was sure she'd left with her nails.

It took a couple moments for Diego to come back to himself enough to slowly let go of Annie's leg and releasing his death grip off the headboard. He still felt a little shaky, even as he was flopping down beside Annie and immediately reaching out to pull her into his arms.

He needed all of the touching still.

Yeah, that was perfectly fine with Annie, who immediately snuggled into him with a happy, wordless hum. She was still plenty shaky herself, as was obvious when her still-trembling leg wound its way through Diego's, and she settled her head against his shoulder.

All of the touching and then some, please.

"I love you," he mumbled, still trying to catch his breath. "So much."

"I love you, too," Annie replied softly, fumbling a hand up to affectionately trail her fingers along his arm because even now, she could not stop herself from touching him. "Probably has a lot to do with why I can't see straight, still."

Sex on its own tended to be great; sex with someone you were stupid, head-over-heels in love with was, like, life-changing, it turned out.

Diego laughed softly. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm not sure I can walk."

"Good. Then you can't go anywhere," Annie decided, playfully draping that arm around him and tangling her legs up with his anymore. "You're my prisoner."

Oh no, of all the terrible fates, help him, help him, et cetera, et cetera.

"You know, I'm weirdly okay with that," he said. "Is that Stockholm Syndrome?"

"Maybe?" Annie said, with all the confidence of someone who had totally heard that term on TV a few times. She nuzzled her face against Diego's shoulder, letting out a very content sigh. "I'm never apologizing for coming home late again, for the record. Super worth it."

Crashing at the tower would have probably resulted in her waking him up for a little phone call, anyway -- and as they both knew, that would not be accompanied by the cuddling that everyone here seemed to actually, physically need afterwards.

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MHA #2 | Late, Late Wednesday Night (or Thursday Morning?)

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