[ she fucking winks at him and he moans because she's an asshole. good thing he likes assholes but he's going to remember that wink. he's going to remember it and make sure he repays her tenfold the next time he gets to do something like this to her.
but he's certainly not going to stop this from happening either because it feels amazing. so good. too bad. she doesn't need to do this but he's not about to tell her that right now because he's selfish and greedy and wants this.
his head tips back, eyes shut and breathing rapid. just the mere touch of her hand on his makes him shiver, a full body movement that he stops just before his hips twitch. she guides his hand to her face and he splays his fingers out, brushing some of her hair back and scratching his nails against her nail, never forcing her into doing more, never taking more control than she's given.
he's not a good person but he recognizes that she doesn't have to do this and she's doing it for him. he doesn't want to ruin that even if she's going to ruin him with her mouth and lips and everything. ]
[ she's going to ruin him. it's the only possible outcome, and as she feels the muscles in his legs begin to tremble, she guides him backwards, until his weight is supported leaning up against the bed. if he falls in the process of his orgasm, she'd really rather he not fall on top of her.
but making his knees go weak? that's definitely on the agenda, because once she's satisfied with his positioning, daisy stops holding back. it's not a tease, not gentle; there's nothing but determined, practiced motions — her mouth, her tongue, the scrape of her teeth just enough to shoot shivers down his spine, over and over until he's painfully hard beneath her ministrations, until he doesn't have a choice but to let go.
because she won't pull away until he does, won't relent the onslaught of sensations she plans to give him, no matter how hard he clutches at her hair or how many swear words he babbles out. she won't move backwards until he's satisfied, and only then to swallow, to lick her lips, and to grin — it's almost mean to feel so smug, she thinks, but she really does feel particularly satisfied with herself.
[ he agrees. he agrees wholeheartedly and if he was able to speak right now, he'd tell her that in very, very descriptive words on how much he agrees. but he really can't talk beyond cursing in english, cursing in spanish, and moaning. she's good at this and while maybe that's crude to think about, she is and he'd also compliment her on her ability if, again, he could talk coherently.
maybe later.
now though, now's for keeping his hand in her hair, tugging on it lightly but mostly just giving himself something to touch that aren't sheets on her bed. he never tries to push or press because he doesn't need to. she's doing just fine on her own and he's not going to try and change a good thing.
he can feel when things are close and he tries to push at her shoulder to get her to move because he's not going to last longer and he's not sure if she wants to stay on him when that happens. ]
You need to — I can't — move back. [ or don't but he at least wants to warn her so she has a choice on the matter. ]
this is the most bizarre smut tag i've ever written in my whole life??????
[ it's one of those strange out-of-body experiences, she thinks. she knows he's going to come and she knows it's going to be in her mouth and she knows, too, that it's not going to be the most enjoyable sensation in the world — but at the same time, there's absolutely no other endpoint to this that she's willing to consider. this is something she's giving him, fullstop, end of discussion.
so she doesn't move away or stop or slow down. she lets him ride out the course of all those sensations until she has no choice but to swallow one more time, idly aware of the length of him as he pulls back, breathless and panting and legs wobbly beneath him; it's only then that daisy leans backwards, the back of her hand brushing against her lips, and peers up at him. ]
Hi.
[ and then, once more for good measure, she winks again. ]
Stop winking at me, you asshole. [ and forgive him, he's just going to finally lay down on the bed and try to catch his breath. that had been unexpected but in the best possible way. now though, he needs to be off his feet and not doing a damn thing other than laying there, breathing hard and trying to clear his fuzzy head.
he's quiet for a few moments, one hand across his stomach before he peers down at her, eyes glassy but relaxed for once in his life. ]
Come up here. [ he gestures her closer with his hand before scooting back against the pillows and sighing. ] You didn't have to do that, you know.
[ she could be offended that he'd chosen to call her a rude name, but she's feeling a little too smug about the whole thing to really be bothered. especially not when he's beckoning her up to join him. that, she's more than willing to do, climbing up in order to sink down next to him, her body pressed snug against his side so that her arm can drape against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. ]
I know. [ soft, reassuring; her mouth brushes a ghost of a kiss against his skin. ] I wanted to.
[ had that not been obvious? he'd enjoyed it a lot. he wasn't going to be able to walk around for a little while which would just be more evidence of how much he'd enjoyed it. ]
[ that was what they'd agreed on, wasn't it? that the lines in the sand they'd both drawn between them, those boundaries they'd set up to keep themselves safe and sane and secure — they'd been washed away, stepped over, disregarded. that even though it was stupid and reckless and dangerous to have emotional connections and loyalties beyond the cartel as a whole, this was what they wanted.
so she repeats it again, soft and sure and sweet. ] You have me, Marcos.
[ and if he listens, he might catch the hint of a warning in it. so be careful, not spoken out loud. whether she means with her or with himself is up for debate. maybe it's both. ]
[ talk about dumb decisions. allowing himself to feel like this again for someone took the cake. but, he doesn't regret it. he doesn't regret it because it makes him feel like he's a person that's worth a little more than what his hands can do to someone. it makes him feel like he's more than just some foot soldier.
her words are simple but affecting. he doesn't say anything back but he nods slightly and turns to press a firm kiss against her forehead, trying to communicate his own thoughts with actions. you have me too coupled with i'll do my best..
the last time he'd done something like this, he'd been the one hurt, left picking up the pieces before moving on.
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no subject
but he's certainly not going to stop this from happening either because it feels amazing. so good. too bad. she doesn't need to do this but he's not about to tell her that right now because he's selfish and greedy and wants this.
his head tips back, eyes shut and breathing rapid. just the mere touch of her hand on his makes him shiver, a full body movement that he stops just before his hips twitch. she guides his hand to her face and he splays his fingers out, brushing some of her hair back and scratching his nails against her nail, never forcing her into doing more, never taking more control than she's given.
he's not a good person but he recognizes that she doesn't have to do this and she's doing it for him. he doesn't want to ruin that even if she's going to ruin him with her mouth and lips and everything. ]
no subject
but making his knees go weak? that's definitely on the agenda, because once she's satisfied with his positioning, daisy stops holding back. it's not a tease, not gentle; there's nothing but determined, practiced motions — her mouth, her tongue, the scrape of her teeth just enough to shoot shivers down his spine, over and over until he's painfully hard beneath her ministrations, until he doesn't have a choice but to let go.
because she won't pull away until he does, won't relent the onslaught of sensations she plans to give him, no matter how hard he clutches at her hair or how many swear words he babbles out. she won't move backwards until he's satisfied, and only then to swallow, to lick her lips, and to grin — it's almost mean to feel so smug, she thinks, but she really does feel particularly satisfied with herself.
hopefully he agrees. ]
no subject
maybe later.
now though, now's for keeping his hand in her hair, tugging on it lightly but mostly just giving himself something to touch that aren't sheets on her bed. he never tries to push or press because he doesn't need to. she's doing just fine on her own and he's not going to try and change a good thing.
he can feel when things are close and he tries to push at her shoulder to get her to move because he's not going to last longer and he's not sure if she wants to stay on him when that happens. ]
You need to — I can't — move back. [ or don't but he at least wants to warn her so she has a choice on the matter. ]
this is the most bizarre smut tag i've ever written in my whole life??????
so she doesn't move away or stop or slow down. she lets him ride out the course of all those sensations until she has no choice but to swallow one more time, idly aware of the length of him as he pulls back, breathless and panting and legs wobbly beneath him; it's only then that daisy leans backwards, the back of her hand brushing against her lips, and peers up at him. ]
Hi.
[ and then, once more for good measure, she winks again. ]
i'm honored
he's quiet for a few moments, one hand across his stomach before he peers down at her, eyes glassy but relaxed for once in his life. ]
Come up here. [ he gestures her closer with his hand before scooting back against the pillows and sighing. ] You didn't have to do that, you know.
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I know. [ soft, reassuring; her mouth brushes a ghost of a kiss against his skin. ] I wanted to.
[ a beat. ]
Don't try to tell me you didn't enjoy it.
no subject
[ had that not been obvious? he'd enjoyed it a lot. he wasn't going to be able to walk around for a little while which would just be more evidence of how much he'd enjoyed it. ]
I can't even lie about it. I enjoyed it.
[ you're good at that. ]
I enjoy you.
no subject
[ that was what they'd agreed on, wasn't it? that the lines in the sand they'd both drawn between them, those boundaries they'd set up to keep themselves safe and sane and secure — they'd been washed away, stepped over, disregarded. that even though it was stupid and reckless and dangerous to have emotional connections and loyalties beyond the cartel as a whole, this was what they wanted.
so she repeats it again, soft and sure and sweet. ] You have me, Marcos.
[ and if he listens, he might catch the hint of a warning in it. so be careful, not spoken out loud. whether she means with her or with himself is up for debate. maybe it's both. ]
no subject
her words are simple but affecting. he doesn't say anything back but he nods slightly and turns to press a firm kiss against her forehead, trying to communicate his own thoughts with actions. you have me too coupled with i'll do my best..
the last time he'd done something like this, he'd been the one hurt, left picking up the pieces before moving on.
hopefully that wouldn't happen this time. ]