Things Like That
Danilo Garza x F!Reader
For Day 26 of @narcosfandomdiscord's July Smut Alphabet: zipper
Warnings: 18+, language, smoking, smut
Word Count: 2k
A/N: Idk what came over my brain tonight but it decided that we needed to get weird about someone new in the docs. And Danilo was the lucky winner. It was an experience! It was a time! I'm not upset about it!
Narcos Mexico Taglist: @ashlingnarcos @narcolini @cositapreciosa @hausofmamadas @artemiseamoon @garbinge @southotheborder (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
The two of you were sitting in the car. The battery was on but the ignition was off. The shitty little light above the rearview mirror was barely enough to let you get a good look at Danilo’s face. The upside, though, was that he also couldn’t get a good look at yours.
“If you’ve got something to say,” he leaned back in the driver’s seat and looked over at you, “then just fucking say it.”
You shook your head, reaching for the glove compartment where you knew he kept a pack of cigarettes. “I don’t have anything to say.”
He scoffed, shaking his head as he watched you spark up a cigarette and toss the pack back into the glove compartment without even bothering to offer him one in the process of it. He didn’t want one anyway, but he still noticed it.
“You think I didn’t see the look on your face?”
You shrugged, exhaling a stream of smoke. The haze you created in the low light of the car only made it even harder to see. “I missed the part when you started giving a shit about my opinion about anything that you do. Or anyone’s opinion on it, to be honest.”
“I thought you were better than that.”
Your brows came together. “Than what?”
“I didn’t think that you’d lie about things like that.”
About things like that. You turned those words over and over in your head. Those four little words were qualifiers that would’ve been insulting coming from anyone else. Being called a liar by anyone outside your crew stung. But you were all liars in some way, at least a little bit. Most of it was lying by omission, some of it was much more malicious than that. At least you were all in good company.
Danilo was a liar too, in much the same way that you were. You didn’t know anything about his life outside of what you were all doing for the op with Walt. You didn’t know anything about it and you didn’t want to. If all of you started getting too honest about everything, it was only going to get messy. Everyone was in enough danger as it was without all of their personal business being common knowledge. Everyone’s lives were divulged on a need-to-know basis, and no one really needed to know much.
No one wore wedding bands, even though you knew for a fact that at least a few of the men in the crew were married. Again, it was just safer that way. You knew that some of them must’ve had wives, families at home, but you didn’t know which ones and you didn’t know how deep any of those roots went. You didn’t want to know. The thought had crossed your mind a couple times with Danilo, wondering if he had someone waiting for him at home. A nice girl who left the kitchen light on for him just in case. Kids who hadn’t been tucked in for bed by their father in far too long. You didn’t know. You didn’t want to know either, so you didn’t ask. Danilo also never asked if you had anyone at home waiting for you.
You lied about plenty. You were sure that he did too. Everyone lied when it was more important than the truth. But not about things like what had happened at the safehouse. The truth was more important then. You didn’t lie about things like that.
Tapping the ashes from the end of your cigarette out the window, you brought yourself back from the brief mental spiral you’d gone down at Danilo’s clipped words. “I’m not lying.” You saw the disbelief on his face. “What? You think I feel bad for him?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what the fuck are you saying?” You shook your head. “Since when are you anything but fucking direct about what you’re thinking?”
“You flinched.”
You scoffed. “Yea. An unexpected gunshot does that to people sometimes.”
“That wasn’t why you flinched.”
“You just got me all figured out like that then, hm?” you asked with a roll of your eyes. You saw the way he opened his mouth to keep arguing at you and you cut him off before he even got started. You gestured at him with your hand that was holding the cigarette. “Don’t fucking patronize me, Danilo. Don’t act like I’ve never been knee-deep in the shit before.” Your eyes were locked on the dashboard as you thought about all of the years, the ops, the injuries and deaths. “I’ve seen people do much worse for much less.” Finally, you peeled your gaze back over to him. “I’m not that easily swayed.”
His eyes locked onto yours. Even in the shitty lighting, even through the haze of cigarette smoke, you could tell that he was piecing you apart. There was a trace of smugness in his expression, the look that was there more often than not, usually trading out places with anger. You wanted to reach over and smack the look clean off his face but you didn’t. You weren’t going to give him that kind of satisfaction.
“Alright,” he finally said, apparently seeing whatever it was that he wanted to see in your eyes.
You nodded, tossing the butt of your cigarette out the window, slipping it through the narrow opening at the top. “Alright.”
You didn’t think that there was much more for you to say other than that. You still couldn’t tell if he had something more that he wanted to say to you, something more that he wanted from you. Very rarely did the two of you find yourselves parked in his car off a dark side-street just for the sake of talking. Maybe he was just wondering if he’d effectively ended the unspoken, grossly undefined arrangement between the two of you when he pulled the trigger. He hadn’t. You thought no differently of him now than you had when you’d woken up that morning. Maybe that said more about you than it did about him, anyway.
“Am I free to go now?” you asked, head dropping back against the rest of the seat behind you.
“Unless you want to stay.”
You saw the pull at the end of his mouth, the smirk creeping into his expression. You hated how easily seeing that made you mirror the same look back to him. He was absolutely insufferable when he got like this but when he got like this is was practically impossible for you to pull yourself away from him. Of course. It always had to be some guy with a bit of an attitude problem. That just had to be your type.
“I’ll stay,” you told him with a nod, “but only because you owe me an apology for doubting me and this is the closest thing I’ll get to one.”
He chuckled at that, a crooked grin flashing across his face. He didn’t try to argue it because he knew that you were right. Even without an argument, it was clear that he didn’t think that there was anything else to be said between you. In a flash he was shifting over, leaning enough so that he could pull you towards him and into a kiss. His lips crashed into yours, the action expected but still taking your breath away for a moment. Your hands settled on the collar of his shirt, gripping tightly and pulling him closer to you as much as you could with the console between you. All the weeks that had gone by and the two of you still found yourselves clamoring in the front seats from time to time like a couple of teenagers who didn’t know any better. Should’ve just cut out the middle man and hopped right into the back when the conversation started.
You were about to make a comment to that effect, or at least suggest getting back there now before things got carried away too much farther and it would be even more frustrating and inconvenient to switch locations than it already was. You pulled your lips off of his, went to make your suggestion, but apparently Danilo had no intentions of adding extra steps to the process now. The second you pulled away from him, his eyes shifted, his hand dropping to work the button and zipper on your jeans. The sound of him sliding the zipper down seemed obscenely loud in the otherwise silent car.
He didn’t even waste the time of trying to pull your jeans down off of your hips. The second your pants were unfastened and open, his lips were right back on yours again, blind to the rest of it but it didn’t matter because he could still feel you. The callouses on his fingers grazed across the strip of skin above the waistband of your underwear, fresh territory exposed now that hadn’t been before. Goosebumps broke out over your skin at the sensation even though it was hardly new to you anymore.
Then you felt the pull of the fabric, the way the waistband stretched to accommodate his hand that was slipping beneath the fabric of your panties. At least he knew not to expect frills and lace. If he was looking for that he could go find some girl in town who gave a shit about those types of details. You both had other priorities, though. It never seemed to be a problem before, and it still wasn’t now as his hand crept lower, just slow enough for you to be able to lift and adjust your hips, letting the pull of his hand shift your jeans down just enough for him to get the access he was looking for.
His fingers slipped into you with no resistance, the sound of your moans filling the small space the two of you were in. Danilo didn’t comment on it, how wet and ready you were for him despite what the last few hours had held for the two of you and everyone else. He wasn’t much of a talker, which you were exceedingly thankful for especially in moments like that when he could’ve dressed you all the way down with his words, and deservingly so. But he also didn’t talk much because he didn’t have to. Even as he kissed you, you could feel the smug grin on his face in between each reconnection of your lips. Bastard. But you couldn’t stop. Or rather, you could’ve, but you sure as hell didn’t want to.
You were bucking desperately against his hand as he fell into the rhythm that made your legs shake even when you were sitting down. The string of curses that fell from your lips were all the encouragement he needed to keep going. Your head went back, eyes shut tight as you soaked in the feeling of him. His lips dragged along your jaw, teeth grazing as he continued to work you over.
Before you could even think to say something about it, your walls tightened around him, arousal spilling over his fingers and into the rest of his hand as you came. Your fingernails were digging into his arm even though the thin denim of his shirt, but he didn’t utter even a syllable of a complaint.
“Fuck.” It was the only thing you could manage to get out.
You practically melted back into the seat behind you as he pulled his hand out from your jeans. You caught him in your peripheral, cleaning off his fingers in the most sinful way known to mankind. You were glad you weren’t facing him head-on as he did it, or you’d be reduced to a mess all over again.
“Anything to say now?” he asked, his tone and his self-satisfied expression saying much more than those four words ever could.
You huffed, something between humor and exasperation. “Fuck you.”
He laughed, shrugging as he refused to look away from you. “We’re already here.”
You rolled your eyes, tongue darting out across your bottom lip. Leaning over to him, you kissed him hard, your hand instantly working at his belt buckle. “Yea,” you undid it, the sound of his jeans coming undone filling the car now, “we are.”