#carrillo x you

[aesthetic-bbyg]

WHY IS EVERYBODY FROM NARCOS SO FUCKING FINE???🗣️🗣️🗣️

[flightlessangelwings]

Ktober 2023 Day 31- Free choice

Fee use orgy with the Narcos boys

Horacio Carrillo x Javier Peña x Steve Murphy x fem!reader

Word count- 2.9k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), restraints, blindfold, free use, group sex, piv, anal, oral, pussy slapping, overstim, multiple orgasms, fingering, praise, no use of y/n (there's a lot in this one so please let me know if I forgot anything!)

About this reader- stated to be involved with both Carrillos but I left it vague so it's open to interpretation, also mentioned she used to be involved with Javi but again it's open to interpretation, hinted to be bisexual but can be left up to you how you read it, no physical descriptions other than body parts

Notes- Going out with a bang here literally lol! Oh I had so much fun with this one so I hope y'all have just as much fun reading it! And by far this is the longest fic of the month. Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

~

“Peña. Murphy. My office,” Colonel Carrillo ordered the two men. It was late in the day, and only a skeleton crew still lingered behind. 

The two agents looked at each other with a serious expression before they silently stood and followed the Colonel. He seemed stiff, and his expression was unreadable. Neither Steve nor Javi knew what to make of him at that moment. 

Carrillo glanced around the empty office as half the lights shut off on their own, leaving the three men in shadows. He inhaled deeply, puffing out his chest as he did so.

Once Javier and Steve reached the doorway of Carrillo’s office, he paused and turned to them, “It has come to my attention that the two of you have been working too hard lately.”

“And?” Steve huffed as he crossed his arms. Javier mirrored the action.

Carrillo flashed a smirk before he opened his office door, “This way.”

Javier and Steve exchanged one last glance before they followed into the dark office. Carrillo was right behind them, and they noticed that he closed and locked the door before he flicked the lights on. And when the two men laid eyes on what surprise the colonel had in store for them, their mouths dropped open in shock.

“Hello boys,” you purred from where you were laid out on the desk.

“Wait a second,” Steve sounded flustered as he tripped over his words.

Javier just grinned, “I didn’t think you had it in you,” he turned to address you by name, “How did you get roped into this?”

“This is some shit Javi would think up. Not you,” Steve interjected.

Carrillo raised his hands in surrender as his eyes dropped to the floor, “This was her idea actually,” he sounded uncharacteristically sheepish at the confession.

The grin never left your face, entertained by the expression of shock and confusion on Steve and Javier’s faces. Finding you naked and tied to Carrillo’s desk was the last thing they expected. But, you had a feeling this was just the perfect remedy they needed.

“Horacio has been under a lot of pressure lately,” you explained, “Juliana and I can tell when he’s off. And… We came up with this arrangement,” you shimmied your shoulders as much as you could while bound by Carrillo’s tight binds, letting the rest explain itself.

Steve and Javier looked at Carrillo. Then, Steve turned to Javier, “How do you know her then?”

“We have a history,” Javier left it at that. His eyes never left the Colonel, though, surprised to find you of all people involved with him. 

“Wait, wait,” Steve protested, “I have a wife, you know.”

“You could have brought her too,” you smirked, giving Steve a wink when his eyes locked with yours.

That made Steve blush. Javier covered his face to hide the proud smirk at the fact that you accomplished that. But, his own gaze wandered back to your tied, naked figure spread out of Carrillo’s desk. He clenched his fist as he thought about everything he would easily do to you while you were like that. He couldn’t help the thoughts that popped into his head.

Feeling his gaze on you, you looked up to meet his eyes and your breath caught in your chest for a moment. It wasn’t until you saw Carrillo move from around him and saunter over to you that you remembered to breathe again.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” Carrillo’s commanding voice broke the tension in the room, “She is here for us to use. Get whatever shit you’re holding onto out. And tomorrow, we start fresh.” 

Carrillo looked you over, admiring his handiwork. He reached out and gently caressed your body with the back of his hand, causing you to gasp. Your eyes fluttered shut as you savored the light, teasing touch of him, and goosebumps erupted on your skin wherever his hand grazed. Knowing exactly what spots drove you wild, Carrillo gave you light pinches and squeezes, murmuring your name with praise.

“You know your signal if you need to stop,” he spoke softly in your ear as he pulled something out of his pocket.

“I do,” you whispered back as you opened your eyes and were met with his handsome face just inches from yours.

“Good,” Carrillo leaned in and kissed you deeply as he yanked the bandana in his hand taut. Vaguely, you both heard groaning from the other end of the room, and you knew the others were enjoying the little display. He broke away from the kiss, placing one last light one between your eyes before he tied the bandana securely around them, blocking your vision and leaving you even more helpless.

You couldn’t stop the moan as a rush of excitement ran through your veins. It had been a secret fantasy for this to happen, and when the opportunity presented itself, you jumped on it. You arched your back as you felt a hand, Carrillo’s, ran across your chest and stomach, tracing a random pattern until it grabbed your breast firmly. You cried out as he pinched your nipple and rolled it between his calloused fingers.

Javier and Steve watched with sharp eyes as Carrillo caressed your body. They felt the heat all the way on the other side of the office, and they felt just as captivated as you were. Javier had no qualms about what Carrillo proposed from the start, and he unbuttoned his shirt and belt without another word. Even Steve, who was hesitant at first, felt drawn to you, and he too loosened his shirt.

“She’s beautiful isn’t she?” Carrillo smirked with pride as he squeezed your breasts again, making you moan. 

The way Carrillo had you tied left you on full display for the men in the room. Your legs were tied to each corner of the desk, spreading them wide and leaving your dripping pussy fully exposed. Your arms were tied together above your head at the other end of the desk, pushing your breasts up. The binds were so tight that you could barely even wriggle from side to side, but you assured Carrillo before he went to get the other two that you were comfortable like this. 

You were going to be here for a while after all. 

“She is,” Javier murmured as his eyes landed on your cunt. His cock involuntarily twitched in his pants, but all he could think about was devouring your pussy.

Faintly, Steve hummed in agreement as he unzipped his pants.

Javier dropped down to his knees, careful not to touch you so that it would come as a surprise when he finally did. It took a great deal of restraint, but once he was settled between your bound parted legs, he reeled forward and covered your pussy with his mouth, immediately sucking at you hard. You let out a loud scream and arched your back at the sensation.

“That’s it,” Carrillo cooed as he watched Javier lick at your folds. 

Without your sight, every move was a surprise, and it only turned you on more. Feeling the tongue against your clit drove you wild, and your moans quickly grew louder and louder. Suddenly, you felt another pair of hands on your breasts, and you cried out when your mind caught up to you and you realized all three men were touching you now. 

Not knowing who was where added to the thrill for you. Yet, you had a feeling that it was Javier who was currently between your legs, licking and sucking at you with abandon. The two pairs of hands that caressed your breasts kneaded you harder, and one hand trailed up your body to push two fingers into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around the digits, running your tongue up and down and sucking at the tip without hesitation. The groan the hand’s owner let out went right to your core.

Javier groaned into you, feeling the pulse of need. He grabbed your thighs and picked up his pace with his tongue, rolling it up and down your folds before pushing it into your entrance a few times. His cock ached with need as he tasted you, but he wanted to make you fall apart first. And soon, once his tongue hit your clit again, Javier got what he wanted.

You came without warning, your legs shaking on either side of Javier’s face as you screamed loudly around the finger in your mouth. In the darkness of your blindfold, you saw stars as Javier didn’t relent, working you through your orgasm until a second one hit before you even came down from the first.

Javier broke away with a loud breath, taking in fresh air for the first time. He sat back and admired his handiwork as your pussy glistened before him. He murmured your name as his hand caressed your cunt, running his fingers up and down a few times before he pushed two inside of you.

“That’s it,” he purred as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, making you moan again.

But, just as he was about to pick up his pace, Carrillo grabbed his wrist and forced him out of you, causing both you and Javier to let out sounds of protest. Carrillo looked at Javier with a sharp expression as he shook his head. The message was loud and clear without the words needed: don’t hog her.

Carrillo chose not to speak on purpose, he wanted to keep you guessing who was where, and he wanted every action to surprise you. Without your sight or ability to move, he accomplished just that. 

You whimpered when you felt one pair of hands break off of your breast, but immediately screamed when you felt a hand slap your pussy. You jolted in your restraints as the hand slapped your pussy again and you cried out in pleasure.

Steve watched as Carrillo slapped your pussy again, and he couldn’t ignore his down needs. So, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth and pushed his pants down to his ankles, freeing his cock. He stroked it a few times before he gently slapped your cheek with it in a silent order for you to open your mouth. You complied, parting your lips for whoever was next to you, and Steve couldn’t help but praise you.

“Good girl,” he groaned as he slipped his cock past your lips and into your mouth. He let out a low growl as your warmth engulfed him, and you played with his cock with your tongue. Fuck, you were good at this, he thought. 

While your mouth was busy with Steve, Carrillo and Javier turned their attention to between your legs. Both men ran their fingers along your already spent cunt, causing you to gasp around Steve’s cock. But, their next action took you even more off guard.

You felt two fingers enter your pussy, easily since you were already so turned on and wet from cumming twice. You moaned around Steve’s cock as you felt the thick fingers fill you up, and your mouth dropped open when they crooked and hit that sweet spot inside you. As those fingers continued to massage the inside of you, you felt another finger poke at your other hole, making you gasp.

Slowly, carefully, the finger entered you, and you cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure. You felt a hand on your breast, squeezing and caressing your sensitive skin while the other fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. Tears filled your eyes as you felt a second finger enter your backside, stretching you out even more. 

All three men watched with awe as you took two fingers in each hole while Steve’s cock stayed in your mouth. You looked so beautiful like this, completely helpless for whatever the men wanted, and it only made them want you more. Steve couldn’t stop himself, and he grabbed your head and thrust his cock deeper down your throat as his emotions overwhelmed him.

Javier and Carrillo watched with burning gazes as Steve fucked your face, and in that moment neither of them could wait any longer. They glanced at each other and nodded, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Slowly, they each pulled their fingers out of you, and they knew you let out a whine around Steve’s cock.

The two men quickly stripped themselves, holding their cocks in their hands and reading themselves for you. It took a little maneuvering, but Jaiver and Carrillo found a way to enter you at the same time. Both of them lifted your hips slightly to expose your body more to them and in doing so gave them the perfect angle to fuck you.

One entered you right after the other, filling you to the brim. You gasped around Steve’s cock as you felt both your holes being filled simultaneously. Tears soaked the bandana as the other two cocks filled you, and you had no idea who took you where. Steve froze for a moment, lost in awe as he watched the other two fill you, and he pulled out of you for a moment to let the screams flow freely.

You gasped for a moment, and it took a second for you to realize that your mouth was free. But when the two cocks pushed deeper inside of you, you let out a loud scream that echoed in Carrillo’s office. Pain mixed with pleasure as you had never felt more filed, and you knew you were safe when you felt hands caressed and roamed all over your body, and you heard soft words of encouragement from all three of them, though you weren't sure which direction each voice came from.

“You’re doing so well, querida.”

“That’s it, just a little bit more.”

“Such a good girl. So fuckin’ pretty.”

Just when you thought you couldn’t feel any more full, Steve thrust his cock back into your mouth, pushing it deeper down your throat and almost making you gag. You felt like a ragdoll as the three of them all started to rock their cocks in and out of you, all at different rhythms and speeds. Never in your life had you felt so helpless, and never if your life had you been more turned on.

Moans and groans filled the room as Steve, Javier and Carrillo all fucked you at the same time. It almost turned into a competition on who could cum first, and who could fill you up the most. They all let out growls as they eyed each other before turning their attention back to you. Losing themselves in the moment, all three men fucked you harder and faster, all chasing their own climaxes.

And the way all three growled went a pulse of need through your entire body, making you clench around all of them.

Steve came first, letting out a loud groan that gave him away to you as he filled your mouth. “Fuck!” he grunted as he watched as you swallowed as much as you could. His hips stuttered as he grabbed your head and yanked you against his hips. You made an obscene noise around his cock as you gasped, but you couldn’t do anything to stop him. Not that you wanted to.

When he was spent, Steve pulled out of you, leaving a trail of spit and seed as the only thing to still connect you both. He watched as your mouth dropped open, taking in a deep breath of air, and his cum splattered all across your lips. You looked a mess, but fuck you looked gorgeous. Steve gently cradled your head, “Good job, sweetheart,” he whispered.

Carrillo watched with a grin, but when you clenched around him, he knew he wasn’t going to last long. He picked up his pace and he growled a mix of curses and praises. His hips slapped against your body as he lost control and after just a few more thrusts, he came hard deep inside you. You gasped as you felt him fill you up, and you moaned as a shiver ran up your spine.

Javier rocked into you even harder, determined to make you cum along with him. He felt your inner muscles clench around him, gripping his cock hard. He reached for your clit, rubbing it with just the right amount of pressure when he felt like he wasn’t going to last any longer.

It didn’t take long for Javier to get what he wanted, and you screamed as your third orgasm crashed into you. Javier kept up his pace as his own followed right behind, his groans drowned out by your cries of pleasure. He kept his pace up and long as he could until he buried his cock fully inside you with one final grunt.

All three men stayed still for a moment, catching their breaths. Carrillo and Javier stayed buried inside you, neither wanting to leave you just yet. But, Carrillo could tell you were getting sore at this angle, and he tapped Javier, indicating what you needed. Slowly, reluctantly, they both pulled out of you, causing you to gasp and whimper.

“It’s alright, querida,” Carrillo’s soothing voice comforted you.

“Are you alright?” Javier asked.

“Never fucking better,” you replied with a soft smirk once you caught your breath. You let out another sharp exhale when you felt hands all over your body once more.

“Ok, I’ll admit,” Steve interjected, “That was fucking hot… And just what I needed.”

Javier nodded in agreement as he eyes trailed up and down your figure, “You were amazing, cariño,” he purred. 

“Good,” Carrillo’s tone dropped, “Because we aren’t finished here yet…” 

[paperhatsandpaperboats]

I don't know what it is about her but I am convinced Josie is going to end up being a double agent and fucking over the team in the final hour

[drabbles-mc]

For Better or Worse

Horacio Carrillo x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, angst, angsty angst

30 Fic Challenge with prompts from This List: pyrrhic- won at too great a cost

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: it's been forever and a day since i've written for my fave colombian colonel but the second i saw this prompt i knew it was made for him and his heartbreak 😌

Your relief when it was all done and over with was twenty-fold, a million different reasons to breathe easier now and they were all intertwined with one another. You were relieved in te grandiose, altruistic sense: Escobar’s death made the streets of Colombia safer for everyone. There was one less sword hanging over people’s heads, the fear of going to the shops or hailing a taxi would finally start to subside. Children could feel safe going to and from school, playing with their friends along the way. Medellín could try to take a moment to rest and recover.

Then there were the selfish, much more personal reasons that you were relieved. You could finally sleep through the night again, maybe your hands would finally stop trembling every time you heard his name. Your wedding ring wouldn’t have to keep serving as a token of prayer for the safety of your husband. You wouldn’t have to worry about where he was, if he was alive or injured, because now he would get to be home. You’d go to sleep with him there, and when you woke up he’d still be there.

Horacio had gone to war with Escobar and managed to be the one who lived to tell the tale. And you were relieved by that in a way that you couldn’t manage to put into words.

You cried when the news broke. Years of sobs that had been locked inside your chest finally getting able to break free, tears streaming down your cheeks until they fell and splattered against the floorboards. All that time spent drowning in fear that you couldn’t express, your claws digging so deeply into the few strands of hope you still had that it’d be scarred for the rest of time. But it was worth it. Every agonizing moment had been worth it because of the news reel constantly looping on your television.

You waited for the phone to start ringing. There was still work to be done, and you knew that, but you were waiting for that to be taken care of, and for Horacio to call. With every task you completed you made sure that you were still listening intently for the phone. Even on the opposite side of the house, you were waiting to hear it, ready to drop everything you were doing to answer it.

Minutes easily turned into an hour, one hour gave way to three, and the phone was still silently hanging on the wall. The sun continued its arc over the top of your house, the sky slowly changing color the closer and closer it got to the horizon line. The relief that you had been feeling earlier in the day began to fade, the knot in your stomach beginning to retie itself.

The sky was dissolving into a light gray when you heard the sound of a key in the lock of the front door. You were sitting at the dining room table, head snapping in the direction of the sound. Without realizing it, you held your breath as you waited for the door to open and for Horacio to walk through.

It was only the sound of his boots on the floor that let you know it was him. He’d never really been the type to call out for you when he got home. He wasn’t going to change now—ever the man of routine. There were a few moments of quiet, and the next set of footsteps you heard were much quieter than the ones previously, his boots surely left right beside the door now.

When he materialized in the dining room doorway, you were up on your feet before you could stop yourself. You didn’t feel your legs carrying you over to him, but before you knew it your arms were thrown around him, face buried in the crook of his neck. Your fingers threaded themselves into the hair on the back of his head, hair that was growing unruly because getting it cut hadn’t been at the top of the priority list in a long time.

His arms snaked around your waist, and as he pulled you in tighter, you felt he tension begin to bleed out of his shoulders. The breath that had been held captive in your chest made its way out with a shudder as the two of you collapsed into each other.

Time slipped away, and you weren’t sure how long the two of you stood like that in the middle of the house. When you finally pulled back from him, you didn’t go very far. Hands resting on his shoulders, fingers curled over the curve of them, you tried to dig up the right words to say.

You brought one hand to the side of his face, thumb tracing back and forth over the stubble that was beginning to grow in there. When you finally got the words out, they came in a choked whisper, like the hours spent waiting in silence had caused your vocal cords to rust. “You did it. It’s over.”

He placed his hand on top of yours, his fingers filling in the gaps between yours. He clasped your hand in his as he pulled it away from his cheek. You were looking back and forth between his eyes and your intertwined hands, tears of relief prickling the edges of your eyes as he pressed his lips to your knuckles.

You waited with bated breath to hear what he was going to say next. Waited for some confirmation of what you’d said, some expression of his own relief. His eyes shut for a moment, lips still pressed against your hand. You could see it, feel it, the way that he pulled in each deep, slow breath.

Finally, he opened his eyes. He let your hands drop down, fingers still laced together. He nodded, not frowning but certainly not smiling either as he said, “For now.”

It felt like your entire body was trying to fold into itself at that. You hated the way you could feel your bottom lip starting to tremble but you couldn’t stop it from happening. Hand on his chest, you could feel his heartbeat underneath your palm. Steady as it ever was.

“Horacio…” you started and stopped your sentence all in the same breath, unsure of what you really wanted to say to him next.

Pulling you in, he kissed you lightly on the lips before moving and placing another kiss to your temple, lips beside your ear as he gave a soft but earnest, “I love you.”

Your eyes shut, tears clinging to your eyelashes for all that they were worth. “I love you too.”

With more tenderness than the world at large thought he was capable of, he caught and brushed the tears off your face with the pad of his thumb. Whisked them away before they had the opportunity to leave a stain.

“You’re home now?” you asked, hesitation in your voice saying that you already knew the answer.

Confusion flickered across his face. “Of course I am. I’ve always been—”

“No you haven’t,” you stopped him short, a tremor still permeating your voice. “You know you haven’t.”

He frowned, and you could practically see the gears turning in his mind as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to say next. There was no rulebook for this, not that he had ever been a fan of the concept anyway. It was all uncharted territory—always had been. The two of you had been managing so far, or some approximation of that, but for you it was doable because there had always been the end-goal, the finish line. It felt as though it was always getting farther and farther away. But then today happened. And the news played. You’d done it—you’d made it to the end of the agony.

Or at least that’s what you’d thought until those first two words fell from his lips. The relief of victory was being ripped away from you when you’d barely been able to brush it with the tips of your fingers.

He felt you thinking about pulling away. Giving your hand a gentle squeeze, he tried to coax you into staying close. “I know that it hasn’t been easy.”

“It was supposed to be over, Horacio,” your voice cracked and there was nothing you could do to stop it. “He’s dead—that’s what this has all been about, hasn’t it? It’s over.” Your hands, even the one enveloped by his, trembled. “It’s supposed to be over now.” You sniffled to try to keep your tears and the rest of your emotions at bay. “You won.”

“This time,” he conceded with a nod. “But there’s always another—”

“Does it have to be you?”

“What?”

“Can’t it be someone else?”

“I’m—”

“Just this once?” you plead. “You did all of this for them. Why can’t it be someone else’s turn now?”

He shook his head, and you waited for the argument, but it never came. You couldn’t tell by the look on his face whether he was silent because he wasn’t ready to say the answer that he had in mind, or if he was silent because the answer hadn’t come to him yet. It’d be nice if he was just trying to be merciful.

 Another few seconds of silence passed before he pulled you in again. You fought him for a moment before allowing your cheek to rest against his shoulder. When you felt his hands splaying across your back you tried to find the comfort in it, but all you could think about was the fact that you didn’t know when you’d get to have him like this again. He was supposed to be home. That was supposed to be the reward for the both of you, the sliver of benefit for all that this war had cost the two of you.

“I can’t,” you stammered out, “I can’t do this again.”

You felt the way he turned, lips brushing against the side of your head with each word. “What do you mean?”

Not pulling yourself off of him, you shook your head as best you could. “We almost didn’t make it through this one, Horacio. I…I know that we won’t be able to do it again.”

“We’re alright,” he reassured, and he even sounded like he believed it.

Now you pulled away. Not far, just enough so that you could look him in the eye when you spoke to him. “We won’t be if you do this again.” Your voice was level, more certain than it’d been yet.

His eyes narrowed for a moment. For a split second you weren’t his wife, you were just another person that he had to size up to see if he could put stock into the threat. It stung but you couldn’t back down now that you’d said it. All those years of silence and now this.

“What are you saying?” he asked, like he didn’t already know.

You took a steadying breath, making sure to choose your words carefully. If he was going to be The Colonel right now instead of your husband, you were going to act accordingly. “I’m saying that these last few years turned you, turned us into something else entirely. And I took it because I…I know what they asked of you. But they aren’t…they aren’t asking anymore. I almost lost you over this one. I can’t keep us tethered together for another.”

“So you’ll leave?”

“You’ll leave. Again.”

His hands were resting on the outsides of your arms, brows pinned together in confusion. “Again?”

“You haven’t been here in—”

“Yes I—”

“No, you haven’t.” You stood firm, knowing that you were right and he couldn’t take that away from you. “Not really. The shell of you might have come through that door a couple nights a week, but you,” you emphasized your statement by placing your palm flat against his chest, “haven’t made it home in a long time.”

He didn’t say it, wouldn’t cop to it so easily, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that your words had struck a chord with him. His thumb ran back and forth across your arm. “This wasn’t ever going to be easy.”

You shook your head. “But it wasn’t ever supposed to be this hard. Not…not forever, anyway.”

“You say that like this has all cost you something,” bitterness began to creep into his voice. He was teetering on the edge of getting cruel and you could feel him fighting it off.

“It has. And,” your fingers curled, gripping the fabric of his fatigues, “and if I lose you then it’s going to cost me everything.” You could feel the sting of tears in your eyes again. “I feel like it already has.”

He shook his head. “You can’t ask me to do this.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “But you can keep asking me?”

“Did it mean anything?” The edge in his tone was renewed, a freshly sharpened blade. “Your vows?”

You stepped back, your hand holding the space between the two of you. “You don’t get to throw—”

“What happened to better or worse?”

You threw your arms out, gesturing to the entirety of the world around you. “I lived it!” you snapped. “What do you think this has all been, Horacio?” You angrily wiped at the tears that were spilling down your cheeks. “This was the ‘worse’ of it all. I knew that. I knew that and I stayed because I promised you that I would. But…but if you’re all out of better for me, if all you have left for me is the worst of it, then I don’t…”

The longer that the silence stretched between the two of you, the more foolish you felt for having been relieved in the first place at all. The universe should’ve taught you to know better by now. Or, at the very least, your husband should’ve. The look he was giving you was an unwavering one, one that made you feel like you should be saying something more but it was all in his court now. If he wanted something, had something to say, it was all on him now. You said your piece after keeping it locked inside your chest for so long. Now it was his turn.

His jaw twitched and you felt it, that feeling of your breath stopping halfway down your throat. You waited for the next devastating blow, or even a surprise of him coming back with something that you wanted to hear, something that resembled compromise.

When he opened his mouth to speak, you swore that you could actually feel the way that your heart stopped as you waited for him to speak. Then the furrow in his brow disappeared, his jaw snapped shut, and you felt like collapsing to the floor all over again for a completely different reason. You ran your thumb along the wedding band wrapped around your finger, and Horacio watched silently as you did. A stalemate in the wake of victory wasn’t what either of you had been expecting, but for now it was what you had.

(divider by @silkholland 💞)

Narcos Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added to any of my taglists!): @garbinge @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @panagiasikelia @616wilsons

@hauntedforsst @boomclapxox @nessamc @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage

@mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @proceduralpassion

@artemiseamoon @narcolini @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa

[ithebookhoarder]

Javier Peña req (and Steve as bestie). Y/n is their partner and is feeling extremely burnt out; running on empty, coffee, cigarettes and not much else. She’s barely sleeping or eating and constantly has a tight chest and racing heart. They both know something is up with her but she just shrugs it off until one day, Javi is out on a raid and she reaches her breaking point. Steve manages to get her home but can’t reach Javi until he gets back to the embassy etc. Also, please could you throw in a little Carrillo cause😍

Burned Out (Javier Peña x F!Reader)

A/N: I’ve missed Narcos and my DEA boys, so thank you for this prompt, whoever sent this in. I really appreciate it. I’ve been in a bit of a slump recently with writing for this blog, so it’s great to have something to focus on and pour myself in to - hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, alcohol, reference to depressive / self destructive behaviour, description of a panic attack, mild smut, canon-typical violence, death, reference to drugs / overdosing. 

Masterlist

You knew exactly when it started. When you began to feel yourself beginning to sink downwards into the quicksand that was your life. 

It was a bad day… well, a worse day, if you were being honest, given that life in general in Bogota was hard and full of bad days that left you feeling numb inside. Whereas you were normally able to banish the darkness by spending time with the friends you had collected since your arrival to the city, not even Javi’s gentle kisses or Steve’s dirty jokes or Connie’s homemade deserts could do the trick. 

The day had been bad for many reasons.

One, you’d lost a contact with direct links to Escobar, that you’d spent weeks working on. 

Two, you had lost them in a drive-by shooting that had killed not only them but countless civilians too. 

Three, some of your asshole colleagues decided to spill coffee all over your files meaning you were forced to work late to re-type them up for a briefing the following morning. Even though you had got it done, you knew you had likely missed some details, the ink far too smudge to even begin to try and understand what had previously been written. 

However, that day had only been the start of it. The start of the downwards spiral you found yourself tumbling into. 

Sure, the others had noticed there was a change about you. Yet, it wasn’t as if they knew what was causing it or how to fix it. 

Javi especially knew what you were like - you were like him after all. Spilling your guts wasn’t your natural reaction to handling things. You kept your emotions bottled up inside of you, cramming more and more in, forcing that lid to remain firmly screwed in place even as the pressure began to build. 

And if the lid did threaten to pop off? Well then, you lost yourself in him. In the love that existed between you, and the intimate knowledge you shared of one another. After all, Javi had said it himself, “who needed therapy when you had sex and good whiskey?” 

A night of passionate fucking was all it took to take the edge off… to let a little pressure escape, delaying your inevitable eruption… But that was just it; you would erupt. It was inevitable. There was no way on earth you could sustain the relentless routine of long hours spent at work, with coffee doing its best to act as a replacement for your bed. 

Hell, you could feel the toll it was taking on you both mentally and physically, from the way your hands shook slightly, to the way your chest felt too tight to breathe sometimes. Then there was the fact your clothes were starting to get baggy, whereas they’d once clung to your frame like they’d been tailored for you. 

“Here,” Javi had smiled one afternoon. You could smell the sandwich in his hand before he even set it down on the desk in front of you, accompanied by a packet of chips and a can of your favourite soda. “Grabbed that for you on our way back. Figured you’d forget lunch - again.” 

A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the kind gesture. “Thanks, Javi.” 

“Anytime, hermosa.” He said it so calmly and easily that you felt your heart skip a beat as you realised how lucky you were to have someone who cared about you so deeply. It was why you made sure to tear a corner off of the sandwich and pop it in your mouth. 

The relieved nod Javi granted you told you it was the reaction he’d been waiting for, as he took a step back to let you finish eating and working in peace. 

You knew he’d be back to check you’d finished it in a matter of minutes. So, you were quick to chuck the rest of his lunch in the waste paper bin behind you, burying it further under a pile of discarded documents you’d already finished looking through. 

It was fine. You’d eat later. Maybe you’d even try and cook dinner for you and Javi… an apology for being so distant lately… 

Somehow, despite lacking the gift of prophecy, you knew deep down that that was unlikely to happen. Just as you knew it was unlikely Javi would even make it home tonight. For the last week straight, both he and Steve had been called out on some last minute, late night errands by Carillo - not that you minded all that much. 

Not having Javi’s arms to fall into meant you felt less guilty about working late yourself. About only making it back to your empty apartment long enough for a quick shower and a power nap each night. 

It was ironic to think of Carillo, though, given that your brief conversations with the Colonel in question had been the closest you’d come to finally releasing some of the hurt and the pain inside of you. 

You didn't know what it was about him, but somehow, the Colonel had an ability to draw you out. To make you open up and share things you would never otherwise dream of. 

Maybe it was his candour? You’d noticed that about him since you'd started working together; he had a blunt demeanour, saying what he thought regardless of the affect it could have on another person. 

Now, it wasn't done with malice, per say, but rather as the result of a man who had the weight of an entire army on his shoulders and an impossible task. He just didn't have the time to bullshit anyone - especially when you both lived in a city full of people all too willing to lie and cheat. 

It also came from a weird sense of respect, of seeing people as equals, deserving of the truth just as he expected the same in return. No matter how painful it may be.

Needless to say, it was one of the reasons you'd grown to respect the man - and dare you even say, like. 

Still, when he decided to loiter on the other side of your desk, late one night, you felt yourself stiffen, as if suddenly all too aware of every little gesture your body made and what it gave away.

The Colonel missed nothing.  

“You look like shit.”

Wow. Don’t beat around the bush. 

“Jeez, your wife married a charmer, Colonel,” you scoffed, dragging on your cigarette, sparing him a fleeting glance. “Speaking of, doesn’t she want you back home? Or do you prefer my company that much that you’d rather stand at my desk at 11 o’clock at night?” 

“She’s out of the city, visiting her parents,” he rebuffed, clearly not taking the bait as he dropped into the empty seat opposite. In fact, he decided to reach across and steal one of the cigarettes from the packet on your desk, lighting it for himself in a gesture that made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere for now.  

“Good for her.”

“Yes, it is. I think time away from this place is good for everyone.” 

You could feel the accusation lacing his words, as well as the heat from his continuous stare. “Then why didn’t you go with her? Not enough vacation days?” 

He scoffed, a bitter smirk twisting his lips upwards. “You’re funny; I can see why Peña likes you so much. Like calls to like, as they say, even if you try and hide it behind that smile of yours.” 

You bit back a laugh. “What can I say? I lucked out in that department and got my Mom’s smile. My sister was not so fortunate. She always had my dad’s features - meaning she looked more often than not like she was sucking on a lemon.” 

“This is the sister that died from an overdose, correct?”

“Yes.” 

“The anniversary is this week, is it not?” 

He asked it so calmly and casually that anyone would have thought he’d asked you what the weather was like outside, or what your favourite record to listen to was. 

At least his concern now made sense. It was the kind of detail he would remember, and you were honestly more surprised by the fact it had taken until now for him to bring it up. 

He’d probably been itching to ask you about it all day, aware of the date even if your two partners were not. Well, they might have been, but neither had said anything which was your preference if you were being honest. Hence your rapidly cooling demeanour towards your colleague. 

“I’m fine, if that’s what you're trying to fish about for, Colonel,” you sighed, staring back down at your desk again in an attempt to dismiss him. “You don't have to worry about me. I’m good. Thanks. So can I get back to work in peace? Or did you have some other question for me?” 

Carillo sighed, simply choosing to smoke his cigarette, letting the tension linger along with the steadily growing haze around you both. 

He didn't need to say the words aloud; his actions did all the talking for him as he reached over and helped himself to a file off of you desk. 

He didn't buy this ‘calm, cool, and collected’ act you were pedalling. Not for a second - something his stare alone gave away, even if he refused to say it. Instead, he chose to read, and work, and smoke along side you so that you would not be alone. 

He had his eyes on you... watching and waiting for the moment that your carefully constructed walls came crashing down... the only question was would they crush you in the process?

It was about a month later that the inevitable happened; that you finally hit rock bottom. 

It had just been a causal remark that did it, of all things. A casual remark that sent you tipping over the edge. 

You had just returned from lunch and hadn’t even sat back down at your desk yet when you noticed that someone was missing.  

“Yo, Steve?” you queried, quickly glancing up at the empty seat next to you. “Where did Javi go?” 

Now, you couldn't be a hundred percent certain what Steve said next but you knew he’d said something about Carillo, a lead, and a raid ... 

“What?”

“I said, Javier went with him,” Steve repeated, staring at you with growing concern. You realised he must have already repeated himself. “What? Why? What is it?” 

“Javi went too? He… he’s there? On that raid?” 

“Yes, y/n, that’s what I just said - hey! Where you going?” 

You didn’t even realise your feet had started moving, not until you heard Steve’s confusion as he yelled after you. 

But you didn't stop.

You couldn’t stop, not until you were outside - not until you were far enough from that place that you could actually stop and fucking breathe. 

When did it become so hard to breathe? 

When had the room become so small? 

Why did your mind suddenly feel the need to go to the darkest place possible? 

It was just a raid... one of hundreds Javi had gone on since arriving here in the country, just as you had also gone on your fair share. So why was your head suddenly picturing him... lying there... injured, or worse... dead. 

The number of bodies you’d stared at, lying in the streets in a macabre tableau that had become all too familiar by now - all part of this fucking job. A job you signed up for, hoping to vanquish the bastards who had taken so much from you and those you loved… yet, every day, it seemed you had failed as more and more innocent people suffered… and to think, that Javi - the man you loved more than anything - who you had neglected terribly to the point you couldn't actually remember the last time you’d woken up next to each other - could be amongst them… 

It brought you to your knees. 

“Whoah, y/n. Easy. What’s wrong?” 

Steve’s voice sounded distant, as if you have been submerged beneath water. Yet, you could tell he was beside you, dropping down onto the kerb before hauling you close. The warmth of his touch was enough to tether you to him, to reality, as everything around you seemed to spin in dizzying circles.

You could feel it as his hands rose, cupping your cheeks, turning your head and trying to get you to look at him. 

When you finally did, he could see immediately that your eyes were glassy, like you weren’t really seeing or hearing him. 

He knew that look. 

“Y/N,” Steve murmured in a soothing voice. “Y/N, look at me. Look at me.” 

He paused, waiting until your eyes trained themselves on his face, some of the cloudiness starting to dissipate. 

“Good, that’s good. Now breathe. Just breathe,” he instructed, taking a few deep breaths himself to show you how.

It took you a moment or two, but you eventually became fully aware of your surroundings and what your friend was telling you to do. 

Following his lead, you took a few shuddering breaths, then a few more. You kept breathing until you could feel the racing of your heart slow and the fear that had felt crippling just moments before begin to ease.

You were exhausted.

Wiping at your face, you tried to banish the tears that had left a salty trail burning down your cheek.

Steve doesn't say anything for a long minute, instead choosing to pull you into his side and light up a cigarette, which he was quick to offer you.

“T... thank you.”

You sat like that for a while... just watching people and cars passing by, smoking like two people on a perfectly ordinary break.

No one bothered to stop and ask you two questions. Hell, no one even shot a glance in your direction, everyone too busy with their own business to stop and give a shit about yours.

So you sat. 

And smoked. 

And said nothing... not until the cigarette was nothing more than a stub.

Steve was quick to take it from you, before it could burn your fingers. Tossing it aside, it had clearly served its purpose. 

He stood and offered you a hand. 

His face left no room for debate as he stated calmly, “Come on, I’m taking you home. Now.” 

“Come on. A couple more steps, Y/N,” Steve urged, guiding you up the stairs to your apartment. 

His hand was warm, firm even, as it pressed against your lower back. 

He’d been like this since the moment you’d left the embassy, steering you and hovering over you like he expected you to simply topple over at the slightest breeze. 

It was touching, yet irritating all at once - a sentiment you were too busy trying to put one foot in front of the other to even attempt to unpack. You were also just too goddamn tired. 

“Here we are.” Steve’s words startled you. “Home sweet home.” 

You didn’t remember giving him the keys, but you must have as he opened the door a second later and herded you inside. 

There was emotion in your throat - threatening to spill from you. You were holding on by a thread and he knew it. Just as Carillo knew it, and possibly Connie too - 

Wait, Connie?

You blinked as you realised that at some point the woman had also entered your home, most likely having been summoned by Steve on the drive home. 

You wanted to feel guilty at the thought of her being dragged into your mess, but you were honestly too tired to feel anything other than grateful as she hurried over to you, offering you a cup of what you assumed was tea, as well as two pills. 

To help take the edge off, she explained, urging you to take them. Doctor’s orders. 

It was impossible to miss the way that they were both staring at each other - sharing anxious glances as you swallowed the tablets and dutifully sipped the tea. 

They were worried about you. Hell, you were worried about you, and Javi, and Steve, and everyone else you loved and cared about - that was what had got you in this mess in the first place. 

Damn it.

You heard them say as much as you marched yourself to your bedroom, claiming you were going to try and get some rest whilst you waited for news. 

If they bought it, you couldn’t tell, but neither protested as you left them. 

They simply let you go, allowing you the space and privacy to crawl into your bedroom, bury yourself in the unmade sheets, and lie down for a while. The medication had clearly started to work as you felt heavy... tired... 

Lying there, you could hear their voices... faint murmurs drifting down the hall. 

You caught only snippets as they tried and failed to keep their voices down, just as your parents had once done when you were just a kid. Still, despite their efforts, you caught enough to know that there was still no word from Javi, or about the raid he went on. 

“-called Javi- no reply.”

“Carillo - try again -”

“-worried about her - stressed.” 

Eventually, the words began to fade away, replaced instead by your body's sudden need to sleep. It was pointless to fight the drugs now in your system, or the comfort of being wrapped in the bed sheets that still smelled of Javi... not even you were strong enough to fight it as you felt yourself drifting off into sweet oblivion.

"Sweetheart?"

You must have still been dreaming - that was the thought that crossed your mind as you swore you heard Javi's voice.

"Javi?" you moaned, fighting against the grogginess that greeted you as you tried to open your eyes.

Despite the fact it was clearly now dark out, you could easily make out the face in front of you, illuminated from behind by the bedside lamp. The sight was almost angelic - as if some divine being had deigned to answer your prayers and return the love of your life back in to your arms.

“It's ok, I'm here, sweetheart,” Javi purred again, brushing your hair back behind your ear and pulling you close. “I’m right here, ok? In one piece - promise. The raid went off without a hitch. Even snagged ourselves a new asset for you to take a crack at.”

Your eyes shimmered with tears as you quickly burrowed into his chest. You didn't really hear what he was saying, too busy focusing on the fact that he was here to say it at all - here - alive - in your arms. 

The reality hit you as you began to let it pour out of you: how relieved you were, how much you loved him. You also grumbled something about fucking telling you when he next decided to run off on a raid without so much as 'goodbye' - else you’d shoot him yourself. 

“I’m sorry, carino. I am.”

And you believed him. 

"I love you, Javi. So much."

"I love you too," he purred, "and I'm so sorry, I knew you were struggling, but when Steve told me-"

He didn't get to finish whatever the hell he'd been about to say. You didn't let him.

Instead, your lips surged hungrily towards his and as only Javi could, he kissed you back, soft and slow... as if desperate to reassure you through actions alone.

You felt him chuckle into your mouth as you grew impatient, grinding your hips against him in a silent plea for him to fill you. To join you. To bury himself, and the day you'd both had, in a moment of bliss.  

It was a special kind of neediness, reserved for just him, and one that was only sated once he had fully joined with you, as one being. Safe. Whole.

Yes, in an ideal world he would have waited until after talking to you to lose himself in such a way. After all, Steve and Connie had filled him in on the troubling turn of events that his absence today had triggered - and he'd be lying if he said the idea didn't scare him shitless, that you had broken down so completely...

He could only thank God that Steve had been there for you - especially when he couldn't be himself.

But he was here now... and you had time to start trying to make sense of this mess. Together. Carillo had assured him of that, informing him in no uncertain terms that you both had the next few days off from work. He didn't want to see either one of you back in the office until you'd begun to sort through the mountain of shit you were buried under.

So, yes. If you wanted to lose yourself for tonight, to use him to forget the world outside for a perfect moment, then he was only too happy to oblige.

He’d wait until the morning to have a proper conversation. 

He’d go down and whip you up some breakfast before trying to get you to open up to him about everything that had happened today… about the worries and concerns you’d been keeping locked away inside of you. 

Then, after you’d fallen in to pieces in his arms, he could try and start to put you back together again. As a team.

[somedaylazysomeday]

Matter of Perspective - Part Four

Carrillo doesn't let your late night at the office interrupt your dinner plans.

Horacio Carrillo x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors, do not interact.

Word Count: 3,800

Warnings: Mentions of danger, minor awkwardness, oral sex (fem receiving), reader is a NERD, and sexual content.

Previous | Masterlist

---

It was nearly nine when you finished with the open files on your desk. 

Okay, ‘finished’ was a bit optimistic. You had managed to tame the pile down to something that was possible to achieve during the following work day. It was a start, and you felt much more relaxed as you shut off the small desk lamp, gathered your belongings, and started toward the door. 

The bus system in Bogotá wasn’t bad, all things considered. It was even fairly safe. Ironically, Pablo Escobar himself was part of the reason. He had made some changes to the system as part of his effort to win over the working class, and it had worked. Buses ran regularly, charged a standard minimum fare, and were well-lit with a policy of no harassment. 

Of course, coming from the DEA and going to DEA housing wasn’t safe since there was a bounty on every DEA agent’s head, but if you walked a few blocks from headquarters and then a few more to your apartment, it was manageable. 

Normally, you caught a ride with some coworkers who lived in a nearby neighborhood, but they had left on time and you had waved off their offers to come back later for you. You could always call a cab… though honestly, that would probably be more expensive and just as dangerous. 

Your brain itched as you stepped into the lobby of the building, and you were already turning when the figure to your left spoke. “Finally finished?” 

The shriek you let out echoed in the lobby, prolonging your embarrassment as you stared at Carrillo’s chest. He was chuckling, you could hear it, but you still wished you could melt into the floor. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, trying (and failing) to act like you hadn’t just been scared out of your wits. 

“I wanted to make sure you left the building before midnight,” Carrillo told you, still smirking. “And to see if I could take you home.” 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you told him, though you couldn’t help but be happy about the chance to spend more time together. 

“How else would you get home?” he asked, and there was a note in his tone that reminded you why Carrillo had been brought back to Colombia when things were at their bleakest. Your attention snapped to his face and found him giving you a stern look. “If I find out you’ve been riding the bus, cariña…”

“I haven’t,” you assured him, feeling defensive when he cast you a doubtful look. “I haven’t! I mean, I was going to, but I didn’t.” 

“Is that supposed to be better?” Carrillo asked. 

“I was going to be careful.” 

“We both know that you're not the one I was worried about.” He sighed, motioning you to the door. “Let’s get you home.” 

Being in Carrillo’s car was an utterly new experience. It wasn’t anything special, but it was in good shape and ruthlessly clean. He had graciously not pointed out that you knew which was his without being told - how could you help that you had been in the parking lot when he drove in to work one day? - and you hadn’t mentioned it, either. 

The radio was turned to a local station, playing quietly in the background. It was almost drowned out entirely by the rush of air whipping past the open windows, and occasional street lights tossed rectangles of buttery light over the interior of the car. You did your best not to stare at Carrillo, but the way that light illuminated the strength of his jaw and the curve of his neck? It was nothing short of hypnotic. 

It was a quiet evening, weather mild. The streets looked almost peaceful as they eased past you in the night. It was difficult to believe the bloodshed and violence they had seen. Perhaps it was good that the short drive took place with silence between you and Carrillo. You needed the chance to decompress and he didn’t seem bothered by the lack of conversation. 

You used all of your willpower to hold back a smart comment when you noted that Carrillo hadn’t needed directions from you to arrive at your apartment building. 

“Thank you for driving me. I really appreciate it.” You were out of the car before you had managed to gather enough courage to ask, “Do you want to come inside?” 

The confused look he gave you made your skin crawl with dismay… until he turned off the car and got out. “I thought that was the plan? For us to have dinner together?”

“Oh, I- yeah…” You shifted uncomfortably. “I really don’t keep much around the apartment. Unless you want a sandwich? Or maybe a granola bar or some ice cream? Or I have these chips that taste like-”

As you had been rambling through the contents of your pantry, Carrillo had gone to his trunk and retrieved a large bag. “I would not ask you to cook for me. I offered, remember?”

“But… I had to work late…” It seemed like an incredibly weak excuse, even more so since Carrillo was standing in front of you with a bag that smelled like it held something delicious. 

“And now you are done,” he said, nodding toward your front door. “If you don’t mind?” 

You scrambled to open the door, holding it so Carrillo could step through before you closed it and turned on a light. Then you mildly panicked because your apartment was messier than you liked and the man you had just decided to have a relationship with was seeing it. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologized, hurrying into your small kitchen. “Let me just move some of this stuff out of the way…” 

“I’ll do it,” he offered. “Then I’ll heat this up. You go change… unless you are already comfortable?”

You smiled despite yourself at the discomfort in Carrillo’s expression as he rethought what he had just said. He couldn’t cast too many aspersions on your clothes - he wasn’t in uniform, but a white tee shirt and dark green cargo pants hardly seemed like lounge wear. 

“I’ll be right back,” you told him eventually, enjoying your taste of revenge after he had startled you so badly earlier. 

Carrillo nodded and offered you a small smile. He had already found a deep cooking pot and was emptying one of the containers into it. The sheer domesticity of it made your chest tight as you ducked into your bedroom. 

Normally, you liked to shower after a day at the office - especially a long day - but you were willing to put aside your routine in favor of spending more time with Carrillo. 

Instead, you changed into a pair of soft shorts and a tee shirt, washed your face, and brushed your teeth. You gave yourself a skeptical look in the mirror as you spat out a mouthful of toothpaste. It made no sense to brush your teeth before you ate a meal, but it made you feel less self-conscious, so you considered it worthwhile. 

By the time you came back out of your room, you felt far more human than you had after such a long day. Your timing seemed perfect, too: Carrillo was just setting two bowls on your tiny kitchen table. 

“It smells wonderful,” you told him. “Thank you for this.” 

The coronel was about to grab a plate of rounded pastries when you reached to give him a kiss on the cheek. Before you could pull away, he had lifted his hand, locking you in place with nothing more than a brush of fingertips over the softness of your jaw. The kiss he returned was decidedly not on your cheek, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. 

Instead, you eased into Carrillo’s embrace, winding your arms around him until he had to make a clear effort to extricate himself. “You taste minty.” 

You smiled. “Thanks. I hope that won’t interfere with what we’re eating. I’m starving!” 

“We’re having ajiaco,” Carrillo told you, pulling you to the table and holding your chair steady as you sat. “It’s popular around here.”

The name was familiar - you had seen it on a few menus at local restaurants you had visited. That was the extent of your knowledge, but it looked fairly simple when you swiped your spoon through it. Chicken broth, potato, shredded chicken, and some herbs, along with half of an ear of corn. 

You subtly watched Carrillo, copying him as he added capers and what looked like heavy cream to his bowl. Garlic danced across your tongue when you took your first bite, followed with something that tasted almost like oregano. The capers were an interesting touch, and the cream brought out the potatoes’ subtle flavor. 

“You made this?” you asked. 

Carrillo smiled, and you were glad he wasn’t offended by the surprise in your tone. “Sí. My mother taught me. She would be glad to know her lessons were worth it.”

“Incredibly,” you agreed, taking another bite. “What’s on that plate?” 

He pulled it between your bowls, putting it in easy reach for both of you. “Normally, ajiaco is served with rice, but I didn’t know how long you would be in the office. There is a special place in hell for those who serve mushy rice.” 

Carrillo looked so serious as he delivered that wisdom that you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I got some arepas instead,” he finished. “These are arepas de queso.”

You eagerly took one when he pushed the plate toward you. Even after so much time spent in Colombia, you had never met an arepa you didn’t like. These were no exception, deep-fried and filled with a mild but flavorful cheese. 

“You’re spoiling me, Horacio,” you told him, struggling not to speak with food in your mouth. 

“Consider it one of the many ways I will make up for treating you so badly before.” 

You set down your spoon, letting it clatter against the side of the bowl to draw his attention. “I already told you that you have nothing to apologize for, nothing to make up for. You’ve been put in a position where you need to be defensive and suspicious of people to survive. So, please, don’t feel like you owe me anything.” 

“Perhaps it is a convenient excuse to show that I care,” he suggested, capturing your hand so he could press a kiss against the back of your knuckles. 

“That’s entirely justified, then.” Your sense of satisfaction only increased as you fished the corncob out of your soup and took a deliciously messy bite. 

Companionable silence reigned as you both ate. When you eventually leaned back with a satisfied sigh, you asked, “What do you think the odds are that Peña will be able to keep his mouth shut about us?” 

“Reasonably good, I would guess,” Carrillo replied with a shrug. 

“Really?” you asked, brows furrowing at him. “You must have a higher opinion of his abilities than I do.”

“When it is a matter of safety or security, Peña is a very serious man.” 

The idea of it made you sober, losing some of the quiet joy brought on by spending time with Carrillo. The food sat more heavily in your stomach. Pablo Escobar not only knew who Horacio Carrillo was, but feared him. And what Escobar feared, he did his best to kill.

“I don’t like the idea of Escobar hunting you,” you told Carrillo honestly. 

It wasn’t a particularly profound statement, but Carrillo nodded gravely. “I understand, cariña. I feel the same way when I think of you.” 

“He doesn’t know who I am,” you argued. “That’s hardly the same thing.” 

“Escobar may not know who you are now,” Carrillo countered, voice gentle. “But if he finds out that I care for you, you will be in just as much danger as me. Maybe more.” 

“I knew that was a risk when I came to Colombia.” You smiled at him, covering his hand with your own. “But let’s just agree to keep things quiet between us. Then we’ll never have to worry about it.” 

That wasn’t realistic, not remotely feasible, but Carrillo just returned your smile. Sometimes, a platitude and an unrealistic estimation of danger was what you needed to continue living your life. Besides, if you had to choose between the two, you would still want to be with Carrillo. You were in danger either way, and he made you happy. 

You caught a sudden glimpse of the future, your mind kicking out a theory of the way things would work out: these issues weren’t going away, and you wouldn’t be able to pretend for long that they weren’t important. Eventually, you would need to face them head-on and figure out a way to deal with the risks, or you would part ways. 

But neither of those needed to happen today. 

Pushing away your own tendency to fixate on what could go wrong, you leaned toward Carrillo, hoping he would mirror you. He did, and the resulting kiss was everything you wanted: warmth, tenderness, and an edge of heat that took your breath away. 

“Did you know,” you murmured between brushes of your lips against his, “that I have a bedroom?” 

“A bedroom?” Carrillo asked, eyes giving a playful sparkle. “I had no idea. I may not believe you. I think you’ll need to show me.” 

“I can do that,” you agreed, giving a final, savoring kiss before you stood. Carrillo’s fingers laced through yours as you pulled him eagerly toward your bedroom. 

You didn’t bother with the lights, but you couldn’t prevent yourself from stealing another kiss… And pulling off his shirt since you were already stopped. While you were at it, you remembered something you hadn’t gotten to do last time, so you gave Carrillo’s ass a healthy squeeze. He startled a bit at the contact, but deepened the kiss with a helpless groan. 

His revenge came swift and silent as one large hand rose to cup your breast, thumb stroking over the exact place where your nipple was tightening for him. Your back arched automatically, pushing further into his touch. 

Carrillo urged your arms upward and took your tee shirt off with a smooth motion. Since you hadn’t bothered with a bra, you were exposed from the waist up. His hands seemed to be everywhere, matched by his mouth as he took advantage of the skin he had bared. You staggered back a step at a time, Carrillo shadowing your every move until you realized he was herding you toward the bed. 

Somewhere along the way, you lost the rest of your clothes and he lost his. He was just as beautiful as you remembered - tan skin dusted with dark hair and marked with occasional scars. Muscles shifted under his skin as he moved, but nothing showy or intimidating. Carrillo was muscular as a side effect of being a healthy and active person, not because he spent precious hours in the gym. He was already hard, glistening at the tip and bobbing slightly with every step.

When you finally collapsed onto the soft surface, Carrillo didn’t follow you. Instead, he stood at the edge of the bed, looming over you. You leaned up, resting back on your elbows as you tilted your head at him. “Horacio? What are- Ah!”

In a single, smooth motion, the coronel had lowered himself to his knees and pulled you to the edge of the bed. Your legs had parted automatically around him and you found him watching you over the peaks and valleys of your body. His eyes were dark and hungry, his face hovering only inches above where you throbbed for him.

“Do you want this, querida?” Carrillo asked. His voice was as anticipatory as his expression, but he didn’t move. “Is this something you object to?”

You had already started frantically nodding in answer to his first question by the time the second made it through the fog of arousal clouding your mind. Carrillo drew his hands away and sat back, pausing only when you made a dismayed sound. “Horacio, please. Yes, I want this. No, I don’t object to it. And I think I’m going to explode if you don’t touch me soon.”

The slow, self-satisfied curl of his lips made you fill with warmth in several places, but most notably inside your ribcage and in your core. And the fact that the smirk stayed even as he parted your thighs and pressed himself slowly between them?

Delicious. 

That was the only word in your mind as Carrillo started lowering his head to you, then even that disappeared in the blast of sensation. His tongue trailed upward, exploring you from the bottom of your slit to the top of it, dipping shallowly into your core as if he was hinting at things to come. 

“Fuck, cariña,” he growled. He hadn’t pulled very far away from you, and the rumbled of his voice buzzed pleasantly through you. “Keep making those noises for me.” 

Ridiculously, it was only then that you realized the pleasure was pushing a variety of noises from your lips. Since he clearly wasn’t bothered by them, you let them pour from you. His lips made you moan, his tongue made you plead, and the feeling of his stubble against your most sensitive places made you writhe. And when he applied gentle suction against your clit, your mouth fell open in a silent gasp that strained the hinges of your jaw. 

You sat up with a groan that sounded alarmingly close to a whine, pushing him away. 

“What is wrong?” he asked, gaze searching your face for clues in the shadowed twilight of the room. 

“I’m gonna come if you keep doing that,” you told him. The bluntness of it made you feel like you should be embarrassed, but who had the time? You were sitting in front of him, folds swollen and shining with a combination of your wetness and his. 

Carrillo lifted his face further, and your core clenched when you saw that the shine across his lips trailed down to his chin. “I am willing to risk it.”

“No,” you refused, and he instantly stilled. “I want you inside of me. Please… I want you so badly…”

He didn’t move, not until you leaned back and spread your thighs a little further apart. Whether it was your request or the sight of what he had done to you, Carrillo seemed spurred into action. He had wiped his mouth and crawled onto the mattress before you could properly recognize that he was moving, but you eagerly kissed him the moment he was in range. The taste of you was strong in his mouth, but it was only another part of kissing him. 

Carrillo held himself on his hands above you, eyes roaming hungrily over your body. Yours were doing the same thing to him, so it was thrilling to know that he was just as entranced by you as you were by him. 

“Hey,” you said, using your best sultry bedroom voice. “Wanna see a magic trick?” 

He gave you an inscrutable look for longer than was really comfortable, but eventually said, “Have I forgotten to speak English? Or did you just offer to show me a magic trick while we’re in your bed together?”

“Tah dah,” you finished weakly, holding up the condom.

“I just watched you pull that out from under your pillow,” Carrillo told you, though you could see how hard he was fighting a smile. 

“Why would I keep condoms under my pillow?” you countered. “That doesn’t make sense.” 

Wisely, Carrillo didn’t respond to that except by taking the condom in exchange for another kiss. In moments, his practiced motions had concluded and he was braced over you again. The tip of him was lined up with your entrance and you were nearly trembling with anticipation as he pressed slowly into you. 

He couldn’t have had much more than his head inside of you when he lowered himself carefully, capturing your lips as you moaned your frustration. That moan turned abruptly into a shout as he speared into you, and Carrillo swallowed the sound directly from your mouth. 

When he pulled back, he looked almost as dazed as you felt. “You’re so perfect for me, querida. So tight for me, and sweeter than anything.” 

Without the incentive of his lips against yours, your head tipped back against the sheets. “Horacio, I- need you to move. You feel so good… Need more. I-”

Carrillo took your request to heart, picking up a pounding rhythm that had you bouncing with the force of his thrusts. The thickness of him inside of you was both a shock and a joy to your nerves. You felt like he was splitting you open, but in a way that made your lungs burn and your toes curl. 

Your hands clutched at his back, massaging the bunched muscles of his shoulders as he held himself steady over you. Then your touch drifted downward, appreciating the way those muscles shifted and moved more rapidly as you got closer to his hips. With that pace, you were surprised he wasn’t exhausted already. 

Granted, all of those thoughts and sensations seemed distant, hidden behind the surge of sensation that exploded through you every time he plunged into your body once more. Your breathing was stuttering, your fingers spasming against the taut skin of Carrillo’s back. 

“Are you close?” he asked. The fact that his hoarse voice in your ear was nearly enough to push you over the edge made you nod, the motion frantic. “Touch yourself for me, cariña. Need to feel you around me.”

“Horacio,” you stammered, half protesting even as your fingers snaked between his body and yours. The very millisecond your fingertips pressed against your clit, you were gone. Your muscles contracted, clenching around Carrillo’s length inside of you, your fingers pressing ever harder as your brain hijacked your autonomy to chase deeper pleasure than you thought you could stand. 

Unsurprisingly, your orgasm pushed Carrillo over the edge. His hips snapped against yours, hard enough that it would have been painful if it weren’t for the endorphins currently flooding your system. You could feel him spasming inside of you as he spilled into the condom and your hips tilted automatically, pulling a helpless sound of pleasure from him.

You would never tell him so, but you were pretty sure that sound extended your orgasm a little longer than it would have lasted otherwise. 

When both of you were finally slack in the aftermath of your pleasure, Carrillo withdrew himself from you and collapsed nearby. You couldn’t help but remember the way he had sought out contact after your last time together, and you searched along the sheets until you found his hand. His fingers intertwined eagerly with yours. 

Carrillo held your hand until he decided to wriggle his way closer, stopping only when you could curl around each other without any space between you.

---

Author's Note - Yet another fic I may continue someday. If I do, you'll find a link at the top of this post. Or, if you prefer AO3, you can find me there under username InkSplots.

Thanks for reading!

[heyhilana]

Say Yes (Javier Peña and Horacio Carrillo)

Summary: Carrillo and Peña work closely with you during the takedown of Escobar. With tension rising between you three and you inviting them in to your apartment, a drink turns into everything you fantasized about and more.

A/N: Ha, remember when I posted this accidentally? Welp, that's what happens when you don't check your queue for a few months LMAO. But at last, it's here after many months of writing this on and off since this was a new challenge for me as I've never written a threesome before. I'm 90% sure this is right because I'm running off of low sleep and I will come back to edit this if I need to but I hope you enjoy! As always, drink water and stay beautiful 💚

Pairing: Javier Peña and Horacio Carrillo x !f reader (I believe that's how you do it pls correct me if I'm wrong)

Warnings: (A list whew and I was even thinking about dp but another time) Light spanking, hair pulling, cunt spanking, f and m receiving oral, p in v penetration (don't be silly wrap it up like candy) cumshot on stomach, cumshot on tongue. I think that's it but I will add more if I need to :)

Tagged: @squidlywiddly87 (uh now you can read this LMAO but I hope you enjoy!)

Word count: 7.7k (I promise this was supposed to be shorter)

“Care to come up for a drink?” An innocent question led to a night that was unforgettable if it could be put into words. It sparked something that the three of you were oblivious to. There was tension between the three of you, a sexual tension to be exact, but it was unspoken due to work. Murphy would make note of it, seeing how Carrillo and Peña would look at you when it was ridiculously hot out, you having to strip off a layer or two to keep yourself cool. Your shirt would cling to your body due to the sweat, outline your breasts more than the shirt would do when you weren’t sweating.

He would also make note of how you would take notice of how their shirts would cling to their muscles, seeing how sculpted their bodies were. Carrillo’s arms were…intimidating for some people. But for you, they were what led to a pool of arousal to form in your underwear. Those pants that Javi would wear, that would shape the lower half of his body, mainly his butt, well, you always wondered what it looked like without his clothes on. The three of you thought that you were discreet about the lust that you had for each other, but Steve always took note of it, just to see the annoyed expressions on either one of your faces.

Was he wrong? Not exactly. It was obvious that there was something between the three of you, a carnal desire that was mistaken for something so little, almost nothing in your lives. Sure, there was flirting exchanged from the three of you. One-liners coming from both Carrillo and Peña that would leave you blushing. You playing with their stuff like taking Peña’s aviators or taking Carrillo’s walkie talkie, forcing them to chase after you and grab you, making you all feel slightly aroused by the close proximity that you all shared. It was friendly on the surface, but it was bordering a line of no return. You all were determined to keep it as nothing more, nothing less.

But the lines were getting closer to being blurred by touching each other. It was more frequent, and it was getting harder to never let it drift down to where it was actually needed. You longed for a touch on the arm to go to them grabbing your breasts, just like they longed for you to go to palming them in their pants. And maybe it had to go further with them going under your shirt, getting a chance to let their rough, calloused hands touch your soft skin. Maybe it was necessary for you to reach down, going to their underwear to feel the thin material only making their erections more prominent. Maybe it was necessary to just strip everything off, to act on impulse and do what felt right in that moment. After all, protocol could be broken in desperate measures.

Needless to say, it wasn’t hard to let your mind go down a road of endless possibilities of having just one of them take you, perhaps letting both of them take you. Late nights alone in your apartment could be filled with you moaning their names, one hand down your cotton shorts and the other palming your breast, letting profanities slip out as you drew yourself closer to an orgasm. You thought of having one fucking you senseless and the other fucking your face, neither one of them taking any action in slowing down their actions. How they could edge you closer to an orgasm, but deny it in the last second, seeing you whine at the loss of their touch that was a drug to you. You thought of how they would love to see you beg for more, to fuck you harder, to let you cum, to make you forget the day’s events until you were seeing white.

You just wished that they would take you one day so that you wouldn’t have to wonder how big they actually were in those pants that would occasionally outline their cocks. The image of them right before you, their cocks painfully hard and waiting to fill your mouth up and reach the back of your throat. To feel those soft, delicate hands of yours wrap around it, pumping it slowly and making eye contact with them as you did it, batting those eyelashes at them before taking them in your mouth again was what brought you on the brink of an orgasm. The image of them waiting to take you so they could ruin everything about you, leave you with your makeup running down your face and a hoarse voice from all the screaming of their names would be imprinted in your brain.

And in their respective homes your name could be escaping their lips, their hand down their boxers, pumping slowly and letting a finger circle around the tip, wishing it was your tongue on their cock. They wanted to look down to see that mouth of yours stretched wide open, trying to fit their cock in your mouth so it could reach new depths. They wanted to thrust into your mouth, grab your hair so they could take control while you took it all like the good girl that you were. They wanted to hear and feel you gag on their cocks, making them grunt and whisper sweet nothings to you about how you were doing a good job of taking them with no complaints.

Sweat would be dripping down their face as they thought of taking you in the office after seeing you in a tight blouse and equally tight pants, just wanting to rip the blouse open and hear the buttons fall on the floor as they took a breast out of your bra to suck on them, hearing soft moans come out one by one from you before they just took you on the fucking desk. Out in the open to relieve some stress and try to see who could make the other cum first before going home to finish the activities. Or even after a night of going out and going back to each other’s homes like this one, maybe acting on impulse to kiss you instead of watching you walk in, seeing the way your pants cuffed your ass the way they would cuff it with their hands.

The fantasy was alive in your minds, but you guys wouldn’t act on it. Escobar was what mattered, not having Pena and Carrillo strip you naked and take you until you just couldn’t take it anymore, your sensitivity making it impossible to take it from either one of them. Them fucking you until your juices are just coating their fucking cocks, screaming so fucking loud that the cars that drive by are barely audible. Them getting off on seeing you in a state of euphoria, the high of cumming multiple times would have you see white as your eyes rolled back. But Escobar was the top priority, and impulsive decisions were never good. They were unnecessary risks that led to consequences that the faint hearted couldn’t handle.

“One drink won’t hurt, right?” Peña looked at you, and then Carrillo. Carrillo was hesitant, not knowing what one drink would do. One drink was the fatality of all morally right decisions. It could be the drink that led to answers of questions that a sober person would normally omit. It could be a detriment to a friendship, a relationship even. It could change the dynamics of how you would all look at each other, knowing how you all were in a different environment without the looming pressure of catching Escobar on your minds. To let all the stress, whether it would be mental, emotional, or physical just escape for once. That was what one drink could do, but was it worth it?

“Just say yes. That’s all you gotta do.” You bit your lip as you said it, your fingers twirling your keys as you waited for his answer. Were you trying to entice Carrillo by biting your lip? Yes, but what would a little lip bite do to someone? It wouldn’t hurt anyone. What would hurt would be how they would take you objectively, just as you imagined they would. A pain that would be worth feeling as it drew you closer to climaxing and fulfilling a fantasy that was created in the depths of your mind the moment you transferred down to Columbia and laid your eyes on the two of them.

“Yes,” With the way that he said it, it was almost as if he was trying to familiarize himself with that word. After all, it was used in a context of agreeing to go upstairs to a woman’s apartment that he’s been waiting to fuck for as long as he could remember. A smile tugged at your lips from his response and you went to open the door, feeling both of their eyes on your ass. You decided to make it interesting for you by dropping your keys, bending down to reach them, putting your ass out on the forefront for them to look at and long to touch, as were you longing to have them touch you in the most intimate of places.

You finally opened the door, turning on the light and placing your keys on the table, moving out of the way so they could walk in. You took notice of their outfits, Carrillo in that dark green outfit that was a tad bit too tight around his arms, highlighting how strong he was on top. You looked over to Pena, seeing that his shirt was unbuttoned, sweating near his neck which only made it harder to ignore how his neck was a turn on for you. It was just so strong, and it only looked hotter when he was angry. The way his neck would be flexed, the tension reminding you of how his arms would be flexed when he would be man-handling a suspect. You forced yourself to peel your eyes away from them and walked over to the kitchen, going to the refrigerator. Knowing that beer was the “safer” option for three of you, you pulled out three bottles, feeling that wine would be a bit too formal for a night like this.

You handed them the beer after opening it up for them, letting your fingers brush past theirs. You wondered how they would feel on the rest of your body, caressing it or making it a point to feel pain that was more so pleasure for you. You walked back over to the kitchen to get your beer, taking a small sip, letting the alcohol enter your body after a day of no success in catching Escobar. It was disappointing, to say the least. You guys were putting your lives on the line, with no avail. Escobar was always two, three, maybe even four steps ahead of you guys and there was no one to turn to except each other.

The police? Not a chance with the way they were all on a payroll for Escobar and every other drug lord that could pay them off. The Columbian Government? They were just as bad as the police, maybe even worse as they were the ones setting the example for the police to follow. Your government? They were no help to you guys as their actions were the complete opposite of what they said they were doing on television. All they wanted was to ensure that they could get some money out of this and to have the chance to play captain on a boat that was sinking. The president could lie all he wanted to on television, to say that they were making progress in something that was only going to go down in flames in the end. But the fact of the matter was you were the ones that were out there that could see the lies. The government only wanted the glory of saying that they helped with the war on drugs, if you could even it call it that.

Were you guys perfect? No, not in the slightest bit. You got your hands dirty in the line of war, even when you wanted to stay dry for just one day. Blood covered your hands no matter how hard you scrubbed it off. It was still there, in memory. No number of promotions, awards, or congratulations from those that knew or didn’t know the situation at hand could make you guys feel relieved in what it was that you guys did every single day. It changed you guys, whether you believed it or not. You were not the same as you guys were before the wild goose chase of finding and capturing Escobar was set into motion. You saw things you wished to forget, did things that haunted your dreams, and wondered if everything that you guys were doing was for a noble cause.

In theory it was, saving the people from drugs that destroyed families, homes, and could bring down anyone that was against it. But in reality? It was just politics, something that you hated for as long as you could remember. Politics that only worked in your favor when it was something that could suit the ones in power. It was bullshit, but so was everything about this war on drugs and capturing Escobar. You needed a break from the bullshit that surrounded your life as a person trying to capture someone so far out, and so did they.

So, one drink was what brought things to a haze of some sorts, to where you said things that you would normally keep to yourself. You made a few flirtatious comments, letting the alcohol do the talking that you wouldn’t dare say with a sober mind. You guys all went over to your couch, and you were in between the two of them, Peña to your left and Carrillo to your right. The tv was on, playing a black-and-white Columbian movie that none of you guys were paying attention to.

Your beers were slowly dwindling away with each sip and the conversation started to take a turn from light to heavy. You felt yourself relax a tad bit, seeing them relax too and look more alive. You got another drink for the three of you, and the more the alcohol entered your bodies, the closer you got to making rash decisions. You would touch them in places that you only thought of when you would touch yourself, needing a release of some sort without taking it too far. Maybe the lack of eating made it easier to have the alcohol take over quickly, or maybe you were just done waiting for something that needed to happen. They did the same but were more subtle as they wanted to tread carefully, not wanting to blur the lines of friendship over a misunderstanding.

By the fifth round, it was decided that they would crash at your place for the night, seeing as though they couldn’t even call a cab for themselves without slurring their words. You felt yourself become wet at the thought of them staying over, knowing that they would only be in the next room over instead of being a drive away. You weren’t sure if your drunk self could keep your fantasies hidden away with that in mind, and they weren’t sure if they could last knowing that you were in the other room, in skimpy clothing that barely kept you cool with how hot it was down in Colombia.

Suddenly there was less space between the three of you, your arms brushing against one another and they leaned in closer to you, to where you could smell the hints of cologne that sent you on a frenzy. Maybe sometime in between they both made the accusation that you moaned when you got a whiff of their scent, but you only laughed, knowing that they had no clue as to how you really moaned when you were being pleasured. You playfully hit them, letting your touch linger a bit longer than it should’ve. You felt the goosebumps rise on their skin with your touch. The hair on their necks would stand tall as you leaned on either one of their shoulders, and you could feel goosebumps on your skin rise as they would casually place a hand on your thighs, to just grab something that was across from them. Their hands were strong and were interesting to look at, seeing that they held stories that you didn’t know about.

Their eyes would be a tell-tale sign that they had seen the horrors of trying to dismantle a drug cartel. But their hands were the proof of them trying to make a difference. They would move your hair out of your face, taking their time in studying your features. You were all treading on uncharted territory that was dangerous, but danger was what was needed in life. Danger was the fire that would keep you alive. To burn brighter and higher as you took chance after chance to live a life that was only shown in the movies.

Deciding to stop drinking after the fifth round, you got up, placing both of your hands on one of their thighs to balance yourself. You could feel them tense up from your hands gripping their thighs, but they didn’t say anything about it. You took their beers as they were done, and you brought them over to the kitchen to throw them out. You were getting ready to get some water when you heard them whispering. You couldn’t make out what they were saying but you figured it was nothing serious. Suddenly, they got up and went into the kitchen. You turned around and saw them eyeing you, making you feel hot. Their stare made you question whether or not you could last until you went to bed. You went to go to another part of the kitchen, but they got closer to you. You took a sip of your water, needing something to cool you off as you felt hotter with them being so close to you.

As you went to turn, Horacio came up behind you, placing his hands on your hips and dipping his head to bring it closer to your neck, his breath fanning it. Javier was in the front, looking down as he took his fingers and brought them to your chin, lifting it up ever so softly. You stared into those deep but gentle eyes where his irises had bloomed from the arousal that was building from the time he walked into your apartment.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks and you bit your lip, seeing that had a reaction on Peña as he let out a slight groan at the sight of your teasing. Horacio let his hands drift down to get closer to your clothed core, something that you longed for. While Horacio went south, Javier ventured away from the northern area and went to grab your breasts, lightly squeezing them. It felt so fucking good to be touched after such a long time of being denied of that desire.

“Bonita, don’t fight it. Let go.” Javier could sense that you were trying to hold back, not wanting to give in just yet. Horacio hummed in agreement as he continued to kiss your neck, wanting to make it easier on their end to get you to stop holding back. You let out a soft moan, barely audible once Javi got to your shirt, opening the buttons and letting his fingers touch your breasts. Horacio let his hands unbutton your pants, not needing to see what he was doing. Perhaps he had a lot of experience like his partner did.

“Just say yes. That’s all you gotta do.” Horacio mimicked your words from earlier as he let his hand go into your underwear, feeling how your arousal has been building for the both of them. Javier unbuttoned your shirt entirely, letting your lacy blue bra be exposed. You knew that you couldn’t fight it anymore. You managed to catch your breath and open your eyes, still seeing Javi’s eyes transfixed on to you, waiting for your answer.

“Yes,” You breathed out, feeling Horacio’s fingers go down where they needed to be at. Javi wasted no time in capturing your lips, and you moaned in his mouth as his lips were the perfect blend of beer and cigarettes and Horacio had gotten down to putting his fingers in between your lips, gathering your slick to then rub your clit.

“How long have you been like this for? Were you just going to go in your room and get yourself off without a little help?” Horacio whispered in the shell of your ear, rubbing nice and slow, making your hips roll with him. You continued to kiss Javi but Horacio’s words made your face burn with heat, moaning slightly in the other’s mouth as Javi touched you all over.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” Javi said in between kisses. You all separated but it wasn’t until Horacio carried you bridal style to the room where it finally hit you that this was happening. This was not a fantasy no longer. No, the two men that you were torn between choosing wanted you just as much as you wanted them. If that was not enough to send you over the moon, the way you were placed on the bed and both of them staring down at you, waiting to ravish you was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Javi turned to Carrillo, and the grins they both shared before moving over to you made your stomach drop. Before you knew it, your clothes were being discarded, shirt thrown to the side, your bra unclasped, pants shimmying down with your panties and you were helping them without a second thought, now with you completely naked and them still fully clothed.

“Let’s see how pent up you are,” Carrillo murmured, him trailing up to you to kiss you and Javi traveling down to your exposed sex, his fingers drumming in between your thighs to get them open.

“Open up for me, cielo.” Javi commanded as you were slowly getting lost in Carrillo’s kiss, his much rougher and hasty than Javi’s. You opened up and soon you felt that fluffy hair nuzzling between your thighs before he used his plump lips to suck on your clit. You moaned into Carrillo’s mouth as his hand traveled to your breasts to pinch and tease your raised nipples, the added sensation making you lose focus. You were biting Carrillo’s lip here and there as your hand was moving down to his pants, rubbing his prominent bulge that you were pleasantly surprised about. Before you could do much more, he moved his hands away to undo his belt, pulling down his pants in one swift move after.

Immediately you were clawing at Horacio’s shirt, trying to get the buttons undone so you could feel him, pull him closer to you so that when your peak reached you could fall apart with him all over you. He laughed in between feverish kisses over your neediness, pulling off his shirt too as he pulled away from you, your mouth falling agape as you realized that everything you thought about him was right and then some.

“How does she taste?” Horacio asked as he was stroking himself in his briefs.

“Like heaven,” Javi pulled his head up to speak and dove right back down without a second thought, making you whine more. Horacio captured your lips once more as he was moving his hand between both of your breasts, nipples become overly sensitive from it all. You didn’t know what to focus on more, but with the way Javi sucked on your clit and licked with the perfect balance, not letting up as if it was his last meal unlocked something in you. There was no guy that was more enthusiastic about eating you out the away Javi was. He put his all into it, occasionally licking from bottom to top, top to bottom to get every drop in your slit, giving you a minute to catch your breath before he went back to your bundle of nerves which made you arch your back. But when the deft fingers that you always found yourself getting lost into looking at slipped into your sex, the band of control snapped.

You moved your hand back down to tease Horacio, slipping your hand under the waistband of his briefs to touch him, semi hard already which put a smile on your face. But that smile soon went away as you felt Javi curling his fingers as he pushed them in and out, lightly grazing your spot as he sucked on your clit a little faster, matching the same pace as when he pushed in. You were a mess, sweat beading down your body, hands trying to find someone to grip to hold yourself together, and you were willing to lose yourself because of their ministrations for a lifetime. And so you did, the way Carrillo’s tongue slipped into your mouth, the twist of your nipple, the curl of Javi’s fingers, the way your bundle of nerves were sent over the edge, you were a goner. Blinding pleasure took up your body, mind, and soul as you stilled in stroking Carrillo’s cock and your legs tightened around Javi’s head. But neither of them stopped working you through it, only continuing and slowing little by little until you were done. With that, they moved away from and marveled at how you looked, the smirks on their face making you want more.

“You sure you’re ready for more?” Javi cooed, and you frantically nodded your head as you got up. Horacio was only in his briefs but Javi was still clothed, making you pout. He realized what you wanted so he undressed so he did as you moved to the edge of your bed. Horacio decided it would be more fun if he kissed your neck while you watched, and the show was more than you expected. You knew that Javi’s golden skin was meant to be worshipped, but to see him half naked as his white shirt was pulled off, undoing his belt as he took off his pants, briefs coming down with them as his cock hard, precum leaking when you didn’t even get the chance to touch him as much as you wanted to.

“Someone likes what they see,” Carrillo whispered in your ear, making chills run through you. He came back around and you realized he took off his briefs as well, leaving them naked right in front of you. Without much thought, you got on your knees, getting close to them. If this was how they were now, you wondered how they kept it together being around you so much. You took both of them in your hands, pumping slowly and looking up at them, seeing Javi gripping the bed and Carrillo trying to hold it together by biting his lip, blood threating to seep out if he bit down any harder.

“Who should I start with?” You batted your eyelashes at them, looking down at their cocks and seeing the precum leaking out over your finger.

“Do what feels right,” Javi encouraged, so you took his, still pumping Carrillo with a little more speed and kitten licking the tip to catch the precum, the salty taste making you smirk. You began to suck the tip, looking up at him with the innocent eyes you always teased him with, you both knowing that there was just a glint hidden in between your stare that meant something else, something beyond professionalism. Seeing that he was straining himself to not thread his other hand in your hair, you went ahead and began to take him all, no more teasing after dreaming of this for so long.

“That’s it, take it all,” Javi praised, grip on the bed getting tighter, his knuckles turning snow white. You flattened your tongue and began to take more of him with ease, and the guttural groans escaping his mouth you were in pure ecstasy. You kept bobbing your head, matching the pace of stroking Carrillo’s cock, your fingers swiping over his tip or you gagging on Javi’s cock. You didn’t care about how used you were for the moment, just that your biggest fantasy was coming true.

“Go please him now, pretty girl.” Javi pulled you off of his cock, and you shifted over to Carrillo, wetness dripping to your thighs with the way he looked at you. Instantly, he wrapped his hand around your hair and spat on his cock, getting it nice and ready before you were beginning to take him in your mouth, the stark contrast between the two driving you insane as you loved the gentle nature of Javi but Horacio’s roughness was just enough to make you want more.

“That’s it, let me fuck that pretty face,” He was thrusting into your mouth and you were taking it, Javi deciding to move your hand away to stroke himself and watch you in the act. You could feel yourself gagging here and there, his sheer size making your work overtime to take him, but when he would hold your head in place to fuck your mouth, you couldn’t help but moan. When you slapped his thigh to let you up, he did, bending down to kiss you afterwards.

“I knew with how much you talk I could put that mouth to good use,” He whispered in your ear as they both help you back up to your feet. Your jaw was a little sore, but it made you excited as you wondered what the stretch would be for you where you needed them most. Hell, if you knew this was going to happen you would’ve trained your other hole to take them both at the same time, feeling them both thrust in and out, the fullness that you craved from them finally being achieved. You pictured laying on Javi’s soft body, back flushed against his chest, his cock halfway in your hole, and Carrillo holding your legs up as he pushed in and out, the stretch making you cry from so much overstimulation as you would rub your clit to match his thrusts. You needed that to happen if this would happen again between you three, but you settled for laying back down on the bed and Carrillo and Javi joining you.

“Who do you want to go first?” Javi asked, hand rubbing in between your legs.

“Depends on what position you both want me in.”

“I want to see you. All of you,” Javi moved his hand down further, index finger swiping over your clit to make you buck your hips. “And considering how much this one looks at your ass, I think he’ll want you from the back. Am I wrong?” You both looked at him, and the amused smile confirmed it all.

“He’s right. Now choose cariño.”

“I want Javi to go first.”

“Say no more, bonita.” He kissed your cheek and moved down, putting his hand sin between your legs to open you up. Carrillo got up and started to stroke himself right above your mouth.

“I’m happy I get to use your pretty mouth once more,” You were smiling as he looked down at you, the way the moon was highlight the sharpness of his body, trailing its way up from his stomach to his chest, to the strong neck that you could see yourself leaving marks on. Your eyes shot back down to his cock however, still glistening and the tip leaking more with precum. You sat up and he tapped his cock against your lips, making you take him in your mouth to stop the teasing. You moved your head as best as you could but when he took control and fucked your mouth again, his cock hitting your throat repeatedly, you were moaning as you enjoyed how he used you, and how you could feel Javi gathering up slick from between your lips to smear on his cock.

“Such a good slut for him,” He murmured as he climbed on top of you and was rubbing the tip of his cock in between your folds, tip hitting your clit especially and rubbing around to make you jump. He pushed in without warning, the stretch making you moan loudly and Carrillo stilling inside your mouth. Your walls fluttered around him as he pushed in more, nice and slow to feel you, take his time with you. You could see from your peripheral the way he was biting his lip, holding it together as he softly sweared under his breath.

“So fucking wet, all for us,” He bent down to whisper it in your ear, making you clench more around his cock. He rutted inside of you, making sure every ridge and curve would be felt. It was a slower pace, but you figured he was slow as you were a little preoccupied with how Carrillo was still using you until he pulled you off, letting you rest your head back down on the bed.

“I want to watch. Give me a show,” Carrillo kissed your forehead and moved off to the side, leaving you to focus completely on Javi. He thrusted with more consistency, skin slapping as you could feel the curve brushing against your walls. You clawed at his back, trying to hold it together as you didn’t think in a million years that he would feel this good in just a few thrusts.

“Javi, fuck, you feel so good,” You were whining more, legs wrapping around him.

“That’s it baby, let it all out.” He cooed in your ear as he went a little faster, the speed finally giving you what you needed. It was as though you two were rocking a little, both wanting the other to pull out but the fullness you had and how your velvety walls clung around his size made it impossible to want to pull out fully. All you knew was that in this moment, you would go into any position for them just so that you could feel both of them fill you up in different angles. Tips pressing up near your spot, the stretch, the way your walls would cling to them out of desperation, everything you could want was happening as you moaned while sucking Carrillo’s cock and Javi was realizing how no matter how much he would tighten his hand it never matched to how you felt.

Javi’s hand snuck down in between you and the flick of his finger on your clit made you jolt, a sharp moan coming out of you and going right to Carrillo as he thrusted into your mouth a little more. Toying with you, he would match his thrusts and slap your clit a little making you whimper before rubbing it to soothe you. Before you could pull him out of your mouth to say anything, you came with a force so heavy it blinded you, the moan coming from deep inside you that vibrated through Carrillo as you moaned. Javi rode you through it while Carrillo continued to use you.

“You loved being used like this don’t you? A little slut for the two of us.” You hummed in agreement which made Carrillo buck his hips into your mouth more.

“Do that again and I might have to fuck your pretty face again,” Carrillo half warned, half made a promise on it. You contemplated on it, but the idea of testing your luck with the man that scared and also turned you on got the best of you. So you did, and the way he took hold of your hair and thrusted relentlessly made you tighten around Javi’s cock.

“Keep tightening around me, hermosa,” The strain in his voice, knowing that he was fucking into you harder, faster, all too consuming while you were testing the limits with your throat, jaw-slacked and looking up at him with the doe eyes that both of them loved once you regained control of yourself. How you managed to breathe through your nose and take it even when he barely pulled out of your mouth to let you breathe was beyond your understanding, but to have both of them was worth it.

“Gonna make him cum, little one?” You hummed in response as Javi’s death grip on your hips loosened and you unwrapped your legs, him pulling out and painting a nice cum shot on your stomach, thick ropes of cum that made you tighten around nothing. He was out of breath, perspiration lining his skin, biting his lip even. He squeezed the tip more to get some more out, and Carrillo pulled out of your mouth. You brought your hand down to get some on your fingers, swiping it up and tasting it. You could see Javi shutter and Carrillo transfixed by the way you lapped it up with each venture down to your stomach and back to your mouth.

“Cleaning up your mess like I knew you would,” Javi moved down to kiss the top of your head as you tasted the last bit of it, enjoying the saltiness of it all. “But how are you feeling?”

“I feel fine. Little tired but I can go on.” You were still catching your breath but the haze that was clouding your mind made you want to go on for more.

“You sure? I don’t want to push you.” Carrillo, surprisingly soft, pushed your hair back.

“If I can’t go anymore, I’ll stop.” You smiled at him and he held back a groan. How could you look so pretty below him?

“You think you can take me?” He countered, and the thought of being stretched out further excited you more than it should’ve. Oh, how did you last this long without having them?

“Doesn’t hurt to try now does it?” The glint in your eyes stoked the fire inside of him that he thought was already burning red hot the moment he entered your apartment.

“That’s a good girl. Turn around for me.” You turned around and got on all fours, facing your mirror and the window which let the moonlight shine on all three of you. He got behind you, hands settled right near your love handles and pulled you towards him, just when you could feel the curve of his dick pressed against your slit, rubbing right in between.

“Look at you coating my fucking dick, baby,” Slapping your ass, you jolted as he pressed the tip near your hole. “And now I get to feel you.” And he pushed in a little roughly, the stretch almost unbearable as you didn’t think you could take either one of them. But you did, the slow yet strong pumps to test you out was eliciting the wanton moans that could be heard out the window. Javi reached down to you and kissed your temple, tilting your head so you could look at him.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, bonita.” He pushed the stray hairs out of your face as you took the slow increase in speed from Carrillo, the tip brushing your walls with each thrust. Javi grabbed one of your breasts and teased your nipple, pinching lightly. You bit your lip as the pain and pleasure mixed together, building with each second that passed. You couldn’t see much but both Javi and Carrillo were looking in the mirror, watching you with intensity. Although Javi was through, he felt a jolt go through him as he helped you get off. Carrillo took glances at your ass and your reflection in the mirror, getting harder at the site of you arched down, taking it him whole.

“Ay, ella se siente increíble,” Carrillo threw his head back a little as you started to meet him halfway, your breath hard to catch as you were beginning to get overstimulated. Javi met you down to your face and kissed your temple, mumbling sweet nothings in Spanish that if you could translate you would probably flutter around Carrillo.

“Baby, take a look at yourself in the mirror.” He whispered as his hand moved from your breasts up to your head and grabbed a fistful of your hair. His grip on your hair as he lifted your head up to look in the mirror made you whine, but your walls only tightened when you saw all three of you in the mirror. Javi’s face so close to yours, lips grazing your temple, you bent over in obscene ways, Carrillo taking you where you could see the way his arms were flexed based on the grip he had on your hips. You watched as he fucked you harder, seeing that he was looking down at how he was going in and out of you. You reveled in how soft Javi’s lips were against your skin, how he worshipped you and Carrillo took you in ways you never would speak about in broad daylight. Javi pulled away to move up and face Carrillo.

“Doesn’t she look so pretty like this?”

“She does. Should’ve done this sooner,” Carrillo was throwing his head back as you were beginning to meet his thrusts to get ever inch. Your third orgasm of the night was gaining traction and you were beginning to move a hand down to rub your sensitive clit but Javi stopped you, swatting your hand away and moving his other hand there.

“You’ll cum on our command. Got it?” Javi was looking at you through the mirror. You nodded but then you felt Carrillo and Javi stop. “Use your words.” They were both staring at you and you tried to gasp for some air to speak properly.

“Yes. I’ll cum on your command, I promise.” You darted your eyes between the two and they resumed, much to your pleasure. Deft fingers toying with your sensitive clit, curved and thick cock exploring your walls, and you were in your world of desire that seemed to be taking new heights the more you continued this. But now, with your climax getting closer and closer to blooming, you were beginning to feel your body shake.

“Not yet. Hold it.” Carrillo stayed steady with his thrusts and the tight circles that Javi was rubbing was making you grip the sheets.

“Please! Please, please let me cum!” You were begging, so close to the thread snapping and you cumming undone. You saw that the two of them looked at each other and nodded.

“Cum.” That was all that you needed to hear before you cried out, collapsing your upper half but the lower half being held up by Carrillo as he fucked you through your orgasm and Javi slowed his circles. You soon heard the grunts and felt the slow and sloppy thrusts coming as Carrillo pulled out and Javi moved away. You turned around to face him, on your knees in the bed looking up at him with your mouth open. He came with a grunt, the cum landing right on your tongue and a little on your lip. You swallowed it all and cleaned up, giving him a smile and it made more shot out on his hand. You took his hand and licked it up too, winking at him.

“So proud of you, princesa.” He grabbed your jaw gently and kissed your forehead. You were a mess, albeit a happy mess as you were trying to catch your breath with all the pleasure washing over you. Soon it slowed, Javi’s hand moving away to rub your back and Carrillo helping you lay down. Javi gave you one of the pillows as you lifted your head up to lay on it as Carrillo got up to go to the bathroom. Javi laid next to you and caressed your face, making you blush.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I am. I don’t know how I’m going to get to work tomorrow though,” You joke, knowing that your legs were jelly at this point.

“We’ll drive you, but you better be walking since we can’t carry you around all day.” He kissed your forehead right when Carrillo came back with the towels from your bathroom. Javi took his towel and Carrillo tossed his to the side, tending to you. He got on the bed and was on top of you, wiping you off as you hummed in relief. Javi finished wiping himself off just as Carrillo got done with you. Still unable to move you were amused when Carrillo tossed your legs a little to get the sheet from underneath them. He then draped it over your lower body and then wiped himself off. Javi got under the sheet with you as Carrillo tossed the three towels in your hamper haphazardly.

“Someone’s gotta do their laundry now,” Carrillo teased.

“I’ll get to it eventually. Gotta find the feeling in my legs again to move.” Both laughed at your new state, used to you running around and now you were bed ridden for the night.

“By the morning you’ll be fine. But sleep.” Carrillo was getting ready to get dressed again as well as Javi, but you got up.

“Can you both stay with me?” You shifted your eyes between them, the little pleading as you moved to the middle of your bed igniting something in them.

They obliged after some thought, you in the middle with Carrillo on your back and Javi near your front. Carrillo’s hand rested on your ass and Javi’s was right near your shoulder. A little awkward, but both of them were softly snoring within minutes with all the energy you took out of them. Maybe you would end up not talking about it until the time came round again or even in passing, but for now you let the calm call of sleep lull you away.

[bullet-prooflove]

14. You’re way too young to be broken

I’m in my Horacio Carrillo feels for this one.

You're young, far too young to have had your life blown apart by the cartels but it's happened. He wishes it hadn't, he wishes that your brother hadn't died, that you hadn't come to Columbia, that you didn't know the stench of death and the taste of cocaine but you do and he can't change it.

Ironically the things that he wishes for are the things that have brought you into his life and into his bed. He can't imagine a world where the two of you hadn't met, he would never admit it but he believes that fate brought the two of you together. Two broken souls finding each other at just the right time.

His ex wife read novels based on this kind of thing.

He lies on his side in your bed, thr sheets draped over his hips and he allows his fingertips to trail over the scars that are etched into your skin.

Shrapnel from a car bomb right here in his city. He remembers the night he heard the call go up, the way it felt like his heart stopped beating in his chest when he heard your address. You had been lucky, talking to one of your neighbours when another car had bumped yours. You'd escaped the blast but not the fallout.

"You're being morose again." You murmur as you roll onto your back, your hair falling across the pillow as you stare up at them with those knowing eyes of yours.

"Maybe." He concedes as his thumb brushes over the apple of your cheek. He leans in close, his lips brushing over yours as the first blush of the morning creeps from your blinds. "But I have you in bed and there are much more important things I'd like to focus on."

[goodnitedrdead]

god only knows

Horacio Carrillo x reader

Summary: who would've thought his ex-wife would ask God to send Horacio an angel? To fill the space she couldn't fill, and to do what Horacio wouldn't even do for himself.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Divorce. Horacio being head over heels for reader. Fluff. Love. All that fun stuff.

Author's Note: quick little something I wrote before bed because I rly miss my favorite soldier and because I needed a break from school. Might make sense, might not. I did state that one of my new years resolutions was to write at least one piece of writing for each month so I am doing this before the month ends. Mistakes and errors are all my own, I didn't have time to check it. Let me know what you think :3

Composed. Collected. Calm. That’s what made Horacio an excellent soldier and an even better Colonel. Ever since his training days at the academy, he was an exemplary student. A promising star who was meant to be a leader. 

And a leader he became.

He’d set the tempo, and everyone else would follow the rhythm of his steps. His family talked wonders of the honorable man he became, to anyone who would listen. It was no surprise that the women were fawning over him, and much to his family’s constant pestering of finding the perfect wife, he found Juliana. 

Together, they found a mutual and tranquil love. Maybe the kind that develops over time, but certainly not one to last forever. 

If Horacio were to match Juliana to an animal, he’d say she was a doe. Skittish, gentle, docile. She was a good wife to him and always fulfilled her duties. She’d have three meals a day ready for the family. She’d stay home and focus on the children. She’d be devoted to her husband forever. 

Just as tradition states.

Horacio was to fulfill his duties as a husband too. He’d go to work, dedicate most of his time to it not only because he wanted the best for his country, but he wanted a safe place for his children to grow. He’d come back home and sometimes have dinner with his family. He’d be devoted to his wife forever.

Just as tradition states.

Tradition didn’t talk about divorce. Tradition didn’t talk about intruders and third parties shaking the very core of an honorable man’s beliefs.

Tradition never changes.

Tradition was broken when Julianna eventually got tired of Horacio’s lifestyle. It was broken when fear crept into their home, and found a host to latch on to. Fear was deeply rooted in Julianna’s heart from one minute to the next; fearing that every day that passed would be their last with Escobar on the run.

She went against her duties and beliefs and did what she saw fit. Bags packed, a new home far from Medellin, and divorce papers were her top three priorities for a few weeks. Eventually, she did the first two, but she couldn’t bring herself to give the papers to Horacio herself. She prayed, day and night, for guidance on what she should do but at the end of the day, her and her children’s safety were her number one priority. Horacio would be able to fend for himself. 

That never stopped her from reciting a quick prayer for him every night before bed. As she found herself far away from Medellin and Horacio, she’d pray for the safety of her ex-husband. After all, she still had a fondness for him and he was the father of her children. She shared many years and a home with him, it was someone she couldn’t just forget about overnight. 

She prayed to God to send Archangel Michael and his soldiers to watch over and protect Horacio from harm. Whether it may be from self-harm or others, she prayed for his safety. Send him your fiercest angel, the most courageous and brave one to keep him from harm’s way.

Horacio never knew this, for if he had he would’ve thanked Juliana for her wishes and prayers. Because if it wouldn’t have been for her, he wouldn’t have found you. 

You came into his life like a goddamn lightning bolt. He’d feel you in the air, the startling feeling jolting him as soon as you’d walk into the room. Unapologetically yourself and nothing else. You’d make a friend of anyone that crossed your path, but he’d also seen the rage within you. If there was someone he’d fear, it would be you. 

You were quick on your feet, and somehow quicker with your gun. He wasn’t sure why the DEA didn’t make you a sniper, but you were awfully good at your job. And yet, you were unapologetically gentle. You wouldn’t think twice about taking a bullet for him, and it made him laugh at times. A woman of your stature stepping in front of him, to protect him from harm’s way. A woman who was breaking tradition day by day and night by night. You weren’t quite like anything he’s ever seen before, and he loved that about you.

He loved how, despite igniting fear into even his soldiers’ minds and hearts, you wouldn’t budge. He could yell and scream and bark orders at you and you’d remain with the most serene energy he’s ever seen. Your eyes fixed on him, the storm brewing within you. Horacio wasn’t scared of many things, but he was scared of you.

How is it that you, someone so tender yet menacing, could have that balance within? He was scared of the way you would keep your innocence despite the amount of deaths and blood you’ve seen this city shed at the hands of Pablo Escobar. The way a smile would come so easy to you. The way a laugh was so easy to coax out of you. He was absolutely enamored by your very being.

Something he had never truly quite felt.

The time came when he lost everything he ever thought he was. Horacio started to lose his composure. He’d start to notice the way his heart would threaten to jump out at the sight of you. The way his pulse would quicken by just being by your side. The way his mind would seem to forget about every word to ever exist when you were speaking to him.

He started to notice how clumsy he would unwillingly become. How he’d stumble over his words when you were in the room. How his hands would betray him and drop the items they were carrying, because it would somehow elicit a giggle out of you. How he’d blush whenever you focused on him, as if he was the only person in the world that mattered.

Tradition was never supposed to change, right?

Yet you continued to prove that you didn’t care what tradition said. You approached Horacio first. You asked him out first. You kissed him first. You weren’t worried about what anyone else would think. You didn’t even care about what Horacio would think. 

It’s not like he never wanted to start anything, he was just too busy being consumed by your presence. You had a light within you that was blinding, but all Horacio wanted to do was look at you even if that meant he’d lose his senses for the rest of his life. 

It was only when you became a couple that he realized you were the protector. No matter how much he tried, you were always one step ahead of him. Ready to attack at the slightest moment anyone got too close to him. Ready to give your life up for him. 

Ready to fill his life with the most pure and sincere love he’d ever felt. 

It was as if God himself picked you to be placed on his path. 

[axkirak]

Renegada♱

Taglist: @707otto @juxt4p0siti0n @arcticversed (If you want to be added in this fic, just tell me in reply )

Pairings:  Amado Carrillo Fuentes x f!reader(Latina Reader) x Walt Breslin  [From Narcos: Mexico TV Series]

Content Rating : Mature 18+  Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

Synopsis : Walt did everything he could to eliminate drug traffickers without realizing that ultimately, his actions were causing him to lose you forever.

AN: There're angst everywhere Lol. Get ready to be hurt

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𝙍𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙙𝙖♱ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

➡  Previous : Next

[6]ᅳ 𝐋𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚 𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐥 ✟

The loud 'Bang' jolted you back to reality, back to the awareness of what you were and what this man was. He might be charming, he might be funny, he might be romantic, but Amado Carrillo Fuentes is a drug lord. He is your target, America's target, Mexico's target, and and the target of other drug trafficking gangs whose aim is to see him dead.

They know Amado is hiding here too. And they didn't want him to come back to Mexico.

Armed groups in tourist outfits reveal themselves amidst the growing chaos. They all aim straight for Amado, but they don't care about other lives.  Innocent people unintentionally caught in the crossfire are ruthlessly eliminated,  bodies scattered on the streets like fallen leaves.

The music is drowned out by the gunfire, laughter turns into screams, and in the blink of an eye, tranquility turns into hell on earth.

You're stiff; you should do something to stop it. You think you could if you had a gun with you, but the bad thing is you didn't bring one because you foolishly thought a regular musician shouldn't have a gun to be suspected by Amado, and you were confident you could handle everything well without weapons.

And you're wrong. It's your fault.

Amado yanked you up, dragging you along as he turned back to shoot at the killers chasing him from a distance. For a split second, you imagine pushing him away and escaping alone. Because these people only cared about getting Amado's life, not yours. His death might be a good thing; at least one of the drug lords would be gone. The crazy mission, and everything could finally end.

You should let him die. It would be much easier if Amado chose the same. But this man is now trying to protect you, even though he's been in danger. Yet, those big hands refuse to let go of yours, not even for a second.

You grit your teeth, eyes staring intensely at his hand holding yours firmly. No matter how much you want to reject, somehow you are a part of this fate. Throughout the time that has passed, you have lost and failed to save everyone. let many people die in front of you without being able to do anything. And you can't bear to feel guilty from failure any more, at least not for this time.

In this moment of imminent death,The CIA Agent finally makes the decision that you can't let Amado die.

All of this is for the mission. That's what you try to insist to yourself. In the moment when one of the assassins aims at Amado without him noticing, in the moment when you decide to push him out of the bullet's range, in the moment when you get shot by that bullet yourself.

The chaos still swirls around you, things flashing before your eyes too fast to make out what they are. Everything seems like mere illusions to you. There's nothing clear except the searing pain akin to flames burning inside your abdomen. You slide down onto the pavement, hands clutching your blood-soaked abdomen tightly, the sound of yelling ringing in your ears. It's Amado's voice, but you can't make out what he's saying. All you can do is raise your head to look at him, seeing the shock reflected in those wide-open eyes and your blood smeared on his face.

What went wrong? Your final suspicion is devoid of any clear answers.

Was it an unexpected reaction to the situation? Or the foolish intention to take the bullet instead of the man who deserved to die?

There's nothing funny about it at all. Yet, you let out a light chuckle, mocking yourself, realizing that this might be the end for you—shot foolishly on the roadside, another failure. But at least, there will be no more loss to bear except for your own life.

Perhaps it's a fitting end for someone like you.

You took another glance at Amado, the smile still lingering on your face until unconsciousness envelops every part of your body and fades away in the blink of an eye.

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Walt never knew when to stop. That was always the problem.

Like a relentless machine, he never took a break, working tirelessly until either the energy ran out or the machinery broke into pieces. Even though he knew it was slowly destroying himself, he chose to keep going until he got what he wanted, or died trying, or worse — had to get his hands dirty and kill someone to get what he wanted.

The hands of the DEA agent were covered in bruises and blood, the throbbing pain clinging to every bone forcing him to slightly adjust his grip.He wiped off someone else's blood onto a dirty handkerchief lying on the floor before looked up at the young man tied tightly to the chair.His face and bare body bore only the traces of severe abuse inflicted by his own hands. 

"Alex Aragón," Walt slowly uttered the name, studying the almost unconscious response from the boy, who seemed barely aware of his surroundings. 

He's still so young, looked like he had just emerged from adolescence not long ago. the pampered, harmless rich kid unless you knew that this guy wwasone of the high-ranking members of the Arellano drug cartel,who just apprehended three days ago.

"If you want to see your parents again, you better tell me right now where Ramón Arellano Félix, your buddy, is and what he's planning," Walt held the cigarette in his mouth before turning his gaze to Diego and the two Mexican cops standing solemnly in the same room. "My Mexican friends here aren't as friendly as I am, and I won't hesitate to hand you over to them if you don't talk to me."

"But...but I'm American!" the young man rushed to say. "I was born in America, I have American citizenship. You can't do this to an American! If anyone finds out, you'll be in serious trouble!"

"So what? Do you think America cares about a bunch of drug dealers like you?"

He lied. When it came to America's image in the eyes of the world, those at the top of politics did care.

But America was also adept at covering up its own dirty scandals.

And if America was good at covering up scandals, Mexico was even better at making them. So, Walt decided to leave the task of tormenting duties to the Mexican police, as he had said earlier.

Walt walked out of the interrogation room to smoke a cigarette, listening to the echoing screams echo with an expression of indifference, devoid of emotions. It was just another ordinary day in his line of work. There is nothing to feel bad about when dealing with someone who deserves to die.

Not long after, Walt remembered that he had only taken a few puffs of smoke when the heavy metal door of the interrogation room was suddenly opened. He saw Diego stepping out with a strangely alert demeanor.

Walt furrowed his brows, quickly flicking away the cigarette that wasn't finished. He didn't feel too good hearing what Diego said, "That bastard finally talked, but it wasn't about Ramón."

"And what did he say?"

Diego hesitated, feeling conflicted. He wasn't sure if he should directly discuss this with Walt. But in the end, he decided to speak up.

"He mentioned an assassination against Amado Carrillo Fuentes."

------------------------------------------------------------ 

The two junior officers in Policía Ciudad de México(The Mexico City Police) were taken aback when an American DEA agent suddenly burst into the room with a look as if he wanted to physically harm someone. Julio, who was seated at his regular desk, looked up for a moment. His expression didn't change much upon seeing Walt. The boss exhaled deeply before waving his hand to dismiss the other officers, leaving just the two of them in the room.

"Ramón Arellano sent assassins to kill Amado on Aruba Island. We need to hurry to help Y/N, she's in danger," the DEA agent exclaimed.

"I already know about it," Julio responded with an unchanged expression. "Netherlands embassy just reported about a Mexican drug cartel incident in the tourist area of the island. The bodies were sent back to Mexico this morning."

Walt sighed lightly, both surprised and irritated by the calmness of his superior. "So, what now? You know about this, yet you're not going to do anything?"

"Calm down. We've checked everything. We didn't find any bodies matching Amado's or Y/N's description. It's highly possible they're still alive."

"Then we need to hurry and help her. We don't know if there are still Arellano's men left on the island. This mission is too risky for Y/N. We need to abort."

"You'll have to talk to America yourself then, Agent Breslin." Julio's tone grew more serious. "Y/N is a CIA agent. Mexico has no part in this."

Walt's face turned pale. It was a feeling when hit by what's called 'Reality'. A reality that Walt hadn't fully grasped until now.

Mexico wouldn't extend a helping hand in this matter, and neither would America. The covert mission regarding Amado is an elite secret known only to a few. Even the Netherlands isn't aware of the CIA's unauthorized incursion into their country. If this mission were to be exposed, it would severely damage trust and international relations.

So, whatever happens to Y/N during this mission should not be linked back to America. They won't hesitate to abandon her immediately. This means she could end up in a state of disappearance without an identity or even a grave to bury.

Does You know about this before deciding to go there? Walt started to doubt. He looked back at Julio's face, seeing him nod slowly, as if already knowing what he was thinking.

"It's her profession. She knows well about the risks, and she's chosen it herself."

A dry chuckle escaped Walt's throat, sounding sarcastic and bitter at the same time. The American officer sank heavily into the chair, hands raised to hold his head, exhaling softly. There was no trace of anger or resentment, not a single word spoken.

Julio laid the documents in his hands on the table. He looked straight at the man opposite.

"Remember the conversation in Cuba? When you were furious because you were worried about her, I told you to trust in her," Julio said with a smile. "I know you're tired of hearing this, but this time I want you to continue to trust her, as long as there's hope. Anything is possible."

"That sounds more like self-consolation than the truth."

"This world is cruel. Sometimes, we get by just by consoling ourselves."

Walt closed his eyes briefly. There were only a few times he showed vulnerability to others beyond his usual demeanor of anger and unfriendliness. "If I knew it would turn out like this, I should say something to her."

He had been thinking about his feelings for you—something more than just a coworker. Every time they locked eyes, shared cigarettes, talked about trivial matters, and laughed together over nonsense, it all seemed clear. He has known it. But he chose to overlook it. Because his job was filled with blood and death every day. There's no space for romance and for a heart that has to bear the pain of sorrow and a painful past.

But the decision to remain indifferent to the feelings in his heart only makes him feel even more sorrowful today.

If on that day he had hugged you tight, if he had asked you not to go to Aruba, if he had decided to tell you how he truly felt, maybe the story could have ended differently. And sometimes, you might have felt the same too.

It's pointless to dwell on things that can never happen again.

The silence persisted until Walt stood up again. He pursed his lips, looking as if he wanted to quickly leave the room. However, Julio stopped him first. "Where are you going, Agent Breslin?"

"I'm just going back to the interrogation room," the DEA replied calmly. But Julio saw the clear anger and darkness in his eyes. "If anything happens to Y/N, I'll make sure they're all going to pay for it."

------------------------------------------------------------ 

[the-hinky-panda]

Reparar (Los Regalos Series)

So this is technically the last part of Los Regalos but I'm not completely opposed to revisiting these two again.

Pairing: Colonel Horacio Carrillo x Fem!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Summary: You’re new to Colombia and the Search Bloc, loaned out by the Army to help sift through the wiretaps, sat phone calls, and other communications. After figuring out that it was Colonel Carrillo who was leaving little gifts, the two of you start seeing each other. But after an assassination attempt that leaves you wounded, you two decide to act like you've broken up. However, things are never as easy as they seem.

He wakes up with a splitting headache and the taste of ash in his mouth. Horacio buries his head into his pillow and prays the throbbing in his temples and the vertigo lessens enough for him to remember exactly what happened last night. Grief still presses heavily between his shoulder blades as soberness churns his stomach. How much whiskey did he go through? What happened last night exactly? 

It comes to him in flashes. He had spent time looking at the gifts and offerings that you had been sneaking into his office. He knew from the side-eyed looks between Peña, Murphy, and Trujillo, you had some help with this little covert operation. He vaguely remembers the things, but what did he do with them? A box, he put them in a box. Then what? 

Oh God. Oh God. He went to your apartment. He knocked on the door. He left the box. Oh God, no. He left the box. The horror of you finding your kind gifts dumped in front of your door is enough to rouse him out of bed. He moves too quickly and instantly regrets it as his head splits apart and his stomach roils. He has to sit there with his head between his knees until the pain decreases and his stomach settles. 

While he waits for that, more pieces of last night come to him. The knock at the door. Him not caring to even pick up his gun as he approached the front door. Opening the door and seeing your face, your red-rimmed eyes, and the sad downturn of your mouth. You brought the box back. You brought the gifts back to him. That makes his stomach flip again. 

He has to find you. You were here last night, he has a vague memory of you sleeping here. He takes in a couple deep breaths and stands up from the bed. The room spins but after a moment it slows to manageable sway. He moves from his bedroom and leans on the doorway of the small guest room down the hall. If you had slept there, he couldn’t tell. The bed is neatly made, no signs of clothes or shoes tossed over a chair or laying on the dresser. He rests his head against the doorframe and tries to remember if you were really here last night or if he’s just made that up. 

There’s a beep that comes from downstairs. Three short beeps followed by a long one. The coffee pot. Someone made coffee. You must have made coffee. He makes his way downstairs, practically leaning against the wall to help balance himself. He’s too hungover to be quiet which is good since his tongue feels like sandpaper and he’s not sure he could call your name, to warn you of his now conscious presence. 

But when he reaches the first floor of the house, he doesn’t hear you at all. He doesn’t smell your light perfume. In fact, he doesn’t sense anyone at all. The curtains are all drawn, the rooms pleasantly dark. There is still the scent of coffee hanging in the air and it doesn’t twist his stomach. He ventures into the kitchen and finds two cups sitting neatly in the sink. Did he drink so much that he forgot having coffee with you at some point this morning? Wait, is it morning? He looks up at the clock on the wall and sees it’s almost three-thirty in the afternoon. 

You’re not here. You’ve given up on him. And he can’t be angry with you about that. He was the one that kept pushing you away, returning your things in the middle of the night. He’s the one that drank himself into oblivion last night and has no memory of what he said or did. Maybe you’re off crying on Javier’s shoulder now. The single DEA agent had a thing for damsels in distress and what Horacio has put you through could certainly qualify as distress. 

He hears the front door open, the loud noise of people walking past and a car horn make him wince before the door quietly shuts and stillness returns. There’s only a handful of people with keys to his home, only a handful of people he trusts with access to his home. He hears a soft sigh being released, a delicate sniff, before a couple clacks of shoes reverberate through the darkened home. He steps back into the dining room which gives him a direct line of sight to the front door. 

He almost doesn’t recognize you. He’s never seen you in uniform before. Gone are your sneakers and jeans and linen shirts. You’re in a starched dress shirt, buttoned all the way up to your throat, a fitted olive colored jacket, and straight pencil skirt. You’re in the middle of taking off the plain black pumps so you can walk whisper-like through the house. Your hair is pulled back into a neat bun at the base of your neck while a military hat is perched on your head. 

“Horacio?” 

It takes him a couple tries before he can force sound out of his mouth. “Querida.” 

You still completely. Your hands fidget with something, gloves, as you wait for him to say something else. When he doesn’t, you reach for your shoes again. “I can leave. I’m sorry.” 

“No.” It comes out as a command, like he’s standing in front of an inept cadet. “I mean, don’t go. Please.” 

You breathe a slow sigh of relief, a shaky smile crosses your face as you go back to slipping off your shoes. “Okay. If you want to take a shower, I’ll make some more coffee.” 

He nods mutely, wondering just how awful he must look for you to suggest that to him. He’s still trying to piece together what exactly happened last night, what was said, what wasn’t said, but his head is still pounding and thoughts won’t complete themselves. You pass by him on the way to the kitchen and slip your hand into his, giving him a gentle squeeze. 

“We’ll talk when you come back downstairs.” And you smile, truly smile. After everything he has put you through, you smile at him. “It’ll be okay, Horacio.” 

The world stops spinning. The ground levels out. You tell him it’s going to be okay and he believes you. 

***

You have no idea if he’s going to be okay. You’re so used to seeing Horacio being strong, immovable, and in complete control of whatever chaotic shitstorm is currently surrounding Search Bloc. He’s been made of granite for as long as you’ve known him. But now you can see the cracks in the stone, the weak points, and it scares you. It’s a good reminder though, that he is human, he is just a man under the uniform, muscles, and temper. 

This morning has been an eye-opening experience for you. Shortly after you had gotten up and made the bed in the guest room, someone had rung the doorbell. You answered it only because you saw it was the thin, well-dressed woman you had seen at Search Bloc a couple months before. Julianna, you remembered, was her name. You opened the door to her, introduced yourself and invited her inside. Surprisingly, she accepted the invitation. Not sure what to do next, you offered to make some coffee and she accepted that invitation as well. 

The two of you had sat at the small kitchen table and she had poured out her grief at her current situation. Even though Horacio had been horribly drunk, he had managed to tell you everything Julianna was now saying. She had come over to collect Horacio so that they could break the news together to the two children. You tell her that Horacio isn’t feeling well, not exactly a lie, that is why you’ve come over to check on him. But the task that she has been handed is a heavy one so you offer to go home, shower, get into uniform, and complete the task yourself if she’s agreeable. She grabbed ahold of your hands so tightly your knuckles are still slightly sore from the desperation in her grip. 

You have no idea how people can make a living out of having to inform families that their loved one isn’t coming home anymore. Having to look into the innocent eyes of two children and tell them that their father won’t ever walk through the door again, tuck them into bed, be there for milestones, was one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do. You had kept it together during the delivering of the news, the goodbye with Julianna and the parting hug you gave her before returning to Horacio’s home. But it’s as you're emptying the coffee pot and refilling it that the tears do come. This is how Horacio finds you a few minutes later, sobbing over fresh coffee grounds in the kitchen. He takes over for you, completing the preparation and turning on the coffee pot before directing his attention to you.

“Querida.” 

The term of endearment is said with such sadness but understanding. He hesitantly slips his arms around you and you immediately mold yourself against him. You bury your face in the space where his neck meets his shoulder, you inhale the fresh scent of soap and aftershave. He smells like himself now, no longer of whiskey and despair, and you try to get even closer to him by pressing your hands into his broad shoulder blades. He feels so solid, strong and protective. 

 Julianna has lost this particular kind of comfort. You have not and you’re determined to not waste any moment that you’re given with him now. You try to stop your tears, or at least slow them down, and take in a deep breath. “I’m sor-” 

“No, mi amor,” he cuts you off. “I’m sorry.” 

Mi amor. Hearing that familiar term of endearment only creates more tears. Could this entire debacle be redeemed? You remember how it felt last night when he reached for you, pulled you close, buried his face against your stomach and told you that he loved you. You remember starting to say it back to him. You had cried yourself to sleep last night, believing that the moment of confessing your feelings has been lost. 

Maybe…maybe it hasn’t been. 

“Te amo, Horacio.” 

You feel his arms tighten around you as his lips brush against your ear. “Te amo, mi vida,  mi alma.” 

[spooky-pomegranate]

Pablo's Ghost (Part 4)

Colonel Carrillo x F Reader (18+) 🔥 Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: After ten months apart, Carrillo shows you how badly he’s missed you. (Part 1) (Part 2)(Part 3)

—————————————————————

There’s something to be said about expectations. While it’s true they often unceremoniously faded away when life can no longer compete with the vivid nature of dreams, expectations are born from observations. They’re created after listening, watching, and experiencing the world and people around us. They’re a dream of what could be based on what has been.

And your expectations of Carrillo were no different. They were created from your memories, from the years you had spent watching him, listening to him, and yearning for him. You didn’t mean to craft them, but they existed within you just the same.

During your time in Colombia, you’d seen Carrillo use his strength to be rough. His powerful arms pushed, grappled, and tossed his enemies around like they were nothing more than rag-dolls. His large hands clawed, punched, and dug aggressively into the flesh of those who dared to cross him. And his deft fingers jabbed, scratched, and squeezed around the throats of sicarios who tried in their wicked ways to tear his country apart.

But as you lay there beneath him, feeling his weight press down upon you every expectation you had of Carrillo was challenged. Where you had expected him to be rough he was soft. Where you had expected him to be fast he was slow and where you had expected him to be mean he was gentle.

The same arms that threw men to the ground carefully held you against him. The same hands that left bruising marks on his enemies, traced delicate patterns across your ribs. And the same fingers that squeezed the triggers of violent weapons, caressed you with a touch so loving it took your breath away.

When you had crawled onto your bed and spread your legs open for him you had meant it as a challenge. You’d hope he’d snap like a wild animal deprived of food and devour you whole. But he hadn’t. He’d told you he wanted to give you more than that. He told you that you deserved more than that. And it was then you knew that Carrillo wasn’t going to fuck you. He was going to break every expectation you had of him and he was going to make love to you. He was going to leave you satiated in ways you had never imagined.

It had started when propped up on your elbows and spread wide open, you had begged him.

“Horacio, I have never loved anyone the way that I love you. I want you. All of you. So please Carrillo… please, I can’t wait any longer. I want to lose myself in you.”

And then he smiled and answered you with a honeyed question.

“Then how could I ever deny you, mi amor?”

It was then he had moved slowly toward the foot of your bed, reaching for the hem of his polo and carefully lifting it over his head. His broad chest was exposed to you for the very first time and you couldn’t help but trail your eyes over his muscles, his beautiful skin, his patch of tufted dark hair that trailed deliciously from his lower stomach into his trousers.

And then you saw them—the healed marks, the remnants of Pablo’s fury, the bullet wounds. There were half a dozen of them, each small, round, and pinkish. The scars were a reminder of how hard Carrillo must have fought to get back here… to come home to you. They made your heartache and you whispered his name.

“Carrillo.”

At the sound of your voice, he moved.

Underneath you, the bed dipped as he sunk one knee onto the mattress and then the other. His hands tenderly reached for your ankles, his calloused palms touching you with a reverence reserved for the most delicate and holy of creatures. Then his lips followed, giving each joint a fleeting and dulcet kiss.

You wanted to tell him how beautiful he looked revering you, but your words caught in your throat. You were entirely too enraptured with the view before you. He was a vision you never expected. He was something so much sweeter.

Carrillo continued his adoration, touching and kissing every inch of you: your legs, your knees, your thighs, your stomach, your ribs. Nothing was left untouched, nothing was left unworshipped. And every time he reached a new place you managed to find a way to breathlessly thank him for his affection. Your hands stroked his arms, you brushed back his soft hair, and you trailed lingering lines across the taut muscles of his abdomen. All the while you offered him bawdy praises that’d dripped from your mouth like sugary syrup.

“You feel so good.” “You look incredible.” “You’re so strong.” You had said.

And that’s how you found yourself here with Carrillo’s body hovering over you and all of your expectations of him completely and utterly shattered. But it was perfect and you couldn’t get enough.

He brought his lips up to the shell of your ear.

“Let me see all of you,” he whispered and you willingly obeyed.

Wordlessly, with one arm you reached behind your back and unclasped your bra. Your breasts spilled out before him and Carrillo groaned. The vibrations of his moan reached straight to your core, and like adding fuel to a raging bonfire, your desire for him burned hotter.

Carrillo’s lips left the shell of your ear and he kissed down the side of your jaw, to your neck, and then lower until his mouth found your breasts. His tongue swirled slowly around your nipple before he sucked it gently into his mouth.

Still propped up on your elbows you couldn’t help but arch into his touch. You whined as Carrillo slid his hands behind your back to pull you closer. He continued to lick, suck, and kiss you until his mouth moved from to your other breast and again you cried out as he lavished it with the same rapt attention. It was all so much and at the same time not nearly enough.

“Please…” you whimpered.

You reached down and thread your hand through Carrillo’s hair, tugging at him until, with a loud and wet pop, he finally let go of your peaked nipple.

“Si, mi amor?” He asked innocently.

Carrillo's gaze met yours and you nearly melted in a puddle. The combination of love and lust he held behind his chestnut eyes was too perfect. But still, you wanted to see something more. You wanted to see him come undone.

“I want to taste you, Horacio,” you said before pushing forward and kissing him, your tongue swirling inside his mouth.

Carrillo pulled back, before resting his forehead against yours. He took a deep breath.

“Do you mean-” he started.

“Yes.” You didn’t let him finish.

Carrillo buried his head into the crook of your neck.

“Aye dios, dame fuerzas,” he mumbled into your skin before quickly pinning you to his chest and rolling you both over. You yelped in surprise at the abrupt way Carrillo moved you both with such ease. It made him laugh and it made you smile.

Your legs were straddling his still clothed thighs and your hands rested on his bare chest. You could feel his heart beat rapidly underneath your sprawling palms as you pushed yourself upright. His chest rose and fell more rapidly than it had before. You could tell that he liked this, you on top of him, his head resting against your pillow that smelled like your perfume. You wonder if he wanted this from the moment he entered your apartment. You wonder if he’d fantasized about this while you were apart.

Carrillo slid his hands down your back to your hips and his grip tightened ever so slightly as you leaned forward to give him another gentle kiss. At the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin, you unconsciously rocked your hips forward. And then you felt it… Carrillo’s desire for you, rock hard and still trapped underneath the fabric of his khakis.

“Mhmmm,” he groaned.

The bonfire inside you became an inferno. You rocked your hips again. Carrillo’s groan became a growl.

“Cariño,” he said looking up at you, his eyes darker than you’d ever seen them, “are you trying to tease me?”

Your eyes closed and your head fell back as you slide your hands down his chest and over his scars until they brushed the waistband of his pants.

“No. I just…” Your voice faded into silence as your fingers played with the button on his khakis.

“Are you nervous, mi vida?” Carrillo asked his own voice husky and low. You sighed before answering.

“No. I just want you so badly. I’ve wanted this for so long. I… I can’t believe you’re real. I can’t believe you came back to me.”

You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss over a scar just below his right shoulder. Your lips lingered around the mark before moving to another scar on his chest. His skin, tan and smooth, tasted salty against your lips. Carrillo closed his eyes and stayed silent, letting your lips trace over every healed wound. When you’d kissed the last scar by his waist he reached for your cheek, gently cupping your face in his hands.

“You asked me to fight and I promised you that I would cariño.” You looked up at him, your eyes wide and glossy. “You have to know by now that I would do anything for you. Anything you ask of me, I’ll give it to you.”

“Horacio.” You whispered his name with the same holy reverence he had touched you with and it made his heart skip. He wondered what he’d done to deserve something as sweet and beautiful as you.

You slide further down Carrillo’s legs and as you did your eyes immediately fell to the place where you had ground against him. A wet spot remained, darkening the light fabric. With anyone else you might have been embarrassed but with Carrillo it only made you more aroused.

You made short work of the button and zipper on his khakis before Carrillo lifted his hips and you pushed his pants and boxers off his frame. And then the world stopped. Your breath caught in your throat. Now sprung forth from his underwear, Carrillo again subverted your expectations. He was slightly bigger and so much thicker than you ever could have imagined. The tip of his cock was reddening and a single bead of pre-cum leaked down the side.

You reached out tentatively and took hold of him in your hand. As you ran your thumb over his tip you tried to imagine him inside of you. You immediately felt a thudding pulse in between your thighs.

“God, you’re so big,” you whined as you began to stroke him slowly up and down, your fingers brushing over his bulging veins. Carrillo groaned and his hips shifted forward seeking more of your touch.

“I know cariño. I know. You don’t have to- hughhhh,” Carrillo’s voice cut out as your lips wrapped around his cock and you pushed him deep into your mouth. His head fell back against your pillow as you bobbed up and down, taking him as far as you could without choking. You hummed around him, enjoying his slightly salty and musky taste.

“You look so pretty like this,” Horacio hissed, after propping himself up on his elbows so he could watch you better. And god was he ever enraptured with the view. Your lips were stretching, your cheeks hollowing, your saliva dripping everywhere… god you were making him feel so good.

You pushed your head way down to his base and Carrillo dug his hands into your hair… fuckkk maybe you were making him feel too good.

“Querida…” he said, practically begging. “Easy, mi amor. I don’t want to be done with you so soon.”

Your heart fluttered as you pulled away and looked up. He was panting, his body strung tight with tension. He reached for your hands and as you interlocked your fingers with his he pulled you back towards his lips.

There was more fire behind his kiss this time. It still wasn’t bruising when he slot his mouth over yours and chased after your tongue but it was more intense. It was more possessive. It was more demanding. And it was unquestionably more exhilarating too. Knowing you had this kind of power over the strongest man in Columbia made the inferno growing in your chest spread.

You felt like you were burning. He felt like he was burning. You didn’t know how much longer you both could tease each other like this. You were going to explode. But Carrillo must have sensed your patient was running thin because he moved quickly, rolling you over again so your back was on the mattress and he was pressed on top of you.

You smiled so big that he couldn’t help but smile back at you.

“I like when you do that,” you said, squeezing his hands that were still interlocked with yours, “I like it when you toss around me like I'm nothing.”

Carrillo's eyes turned dark. He realized maybe he didn’t need to hold himself back as much with you. Maybe you wanted things to be a bit rougher, a little bit more aggressive. He could do that. He could be that man for you. He let go of your hands.

And then Carrillo reached in between your thighs and in one quick and powerful move ripped away your underwear, pulling it off your body and tossing it to the floor. You yelped again and his smile inadvertently turned wicked. He liked coaxing these noises out of you. These little whimpers and whines… they were better than anything he had dreamt about over the past ten months.

He slid his hand down your ribs, over your stomach, and then to your thighs. But before he could sink his fingers into your wet cunt, you pulled at his wrist, yanking his hand away.

“I don’t want to wait anymore. Please…” You begged as you pushed your hips toward him, rubbing up against his hard cock.

“Mierda,” he hissed before grabbing your hands again and pinning them above your head on the mattress. Carrillo kept you there with one hand while his other hand grabbed his cock. He lined himself up with you.

“Are you sure, mi vida? Tell me you’re ready.” Carrillo asked, his voice practically a growl as he slowly stroked himself.

“I’m ready,” your voice was ragged and desperate, “I love you.”

He pushed into you and you whined again, loudly. You really hoped Steve and Javier weren’t home right now, because you knew this was just going to be just the beginning of the noises Carrillo was going to draw from you tonight. You squeezed your eyes shut and dug your fingers into his hands, searching for something to ground you to bring you back to earth. The pain and pleasure coursing through your body made your head spin. It was perfect. He was perfect.

Carrillo didn’t know if he could move. He didn’t know if he could breathe. You felt so good wrapped around him that his mind was going totally blank. For a long moment, you both froze. You stayed motionless and joined together with his throbbing cock halfway inside you.

But eventually, Carrillo moved again, finding the strength to set a steady and slow pace. It was intoxicating and you knew he felt it too. Carrillo struggled to stay silent above you. He groaned and mumbled a slew of incoherent Spanish phrases in your ear. There was something about how pretty you looked, how tight you felt, how sweet you sounded.

And with every thrust, every roll of his hips, every single growl he gave you, it pushed you closer to the edge. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach.

“Horacio I’m going to…”

“Come for me, mi amor.”

Then with a particularly vicious snap of his hips, you felt the knot uncoil as the world went white and fuzzy around you. You called his name again and again as your back arched off the mattress and he finally let go of your hands. You wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands found purchase on your back.

“Me estás volviendo loco,” he said as he pulled you upright.

You both were kneeling together on the mattress as he continued to thrust up into you. The new angle sent you hurtling toward another orgasm. He was deeper now, inside you completely to the hilt.

“You’re so good for me, cariño… so good,” he breathed into your ear as one of his hands slid up your back and into your hair. You rested your forehead into the crook of his neck, trying desperately to hold on. But when he spoke next, you couldn’t control yourself. His words were too sweet.

“Te amo más que a nada. Mi corazón es tuyo… tuyo.”

That was it. You let go. You dropped off of a cliff and slipped out of your body as you fell. Carrillo felt your orgasm take claim of you. The pulsing waves of your orgasm were sluggish and each undulation took its time washing over you in long drawn-out swells.

Your body went weak. Your cunt spasmed around his cock, squeezing him, pulling him further inside you. Carrillo couldn’t control himself. He groaned low and deep and with one final thrust, he joined you. The knot you had felt in your stomach had tightened around his cock and you pulled every drop of his warm cum deep inside you. With heavy limbs, you clung to one another.

Carrillo gently laid you both down on the bed. You curled into his massive frame, resting your chin on his shoulder and your leg draped over his hip. He drew small and delicate circles over the skin of your ribs and your side. You both stared into each other’s eyes as you tried to catch your breath. Carrillo smiled at you enjoying the feeling of finally having you, holding you, being with you… but eventually, his smile faded and so did yours.

“I’m sorry cariño…” he whispered breaking the tender silence. His voice was so soft that you weren’t sure you heard him correctly.

“What?” You whispered back in surprise at the sudden shift in his mood. “Why are you sorry?”

“I should have come back to you sooner.” He said buring his head against your neck. Your heart ached. You thread your hand into his hair before kissing the side of his face.

“Why… why didn’t you? Why didn’t you come back sooner?”

Carrillo sighed before pulling back from you to look into your eyes.

“I wanted to be as strong as I was before.” He paused. You could see from the way his jaw was clenching and unclenching that he was trying to consider his next words carefully.

“I wish I could just run away from here with you and leave this all behind but…” his voice faded into the night. His heartbeat felt uneasy in his chest.

How could he be so stupid? Now that he had you he didn’t want to leave you, but surely you would leave him. Surely you wouldn’t want to go through this hell with him again. And he shouldn't ask you to. You’d been through enough pain already. You should just leave him tonight and never look back. That would be best for you.

“You can’t,” you said dropping your hand from his hair.

“No. I can’t. I’m sorry cariño. I know you deserve more, but I can’t let him win. Someone has to stop him.”

You sat up and Carrillo’s heart stopped. Was this it? Was this the moment you told him you couldn’t watch him fight Pablo again? Was this the last happy moment he would have in this god-forsaken country? Was this the last happy moment of his life?

Fuck. He should have said this to you right away. He should have told you the moment he walked in your door that he was still going to go after Pablo despite it all. Despite the odds stacked against him. Despite the fact that he’d nearly been put in the ground twice already. Despite the fact that he loved you.

Carrillo couldn’t look at you. Tears filled his eyes. The room felt cold as silence took hold.

But then your soft hand reached out and cupped his cheek.

“I know who you are Horacio.” He met your eyes and you smiled. “I knew if you came back to me you would still be the man you always were. A fighter. A leader. A warrior…” you paused, breathing deeply.

“You’ve always been what Colombia needs Horacio. It’s always been you.”

Carrillo felt like he’d surfaced from the depths of icy cold water. Oxygen flooded back into his lungs, burning him with a bitter sting. He sat up alongside you.

“I won’t let you do this alone.” You continued, your voice as sweet as honey. “I’ll stand next to you through it all. I love you. Te amo.”

Carrillo pushed forward and kissed you again. You were the most perfect thing he’d ever known. You were his beautiful and perfect cariño. His voice waivered as he whispered against your lips.

“Te amo. I love you.”

—————————————————————

[narcolini]

nightmares

amado x gn!reader, 2080 words, hurt/comfort

contains canon typical gun violence 

using the day 2 whumpril prompts: Stress & “Get some rest.”

a/n: i hope this scratches the amado itch, dear anon!! (me vs taking months to write requests lmaooo) <3<3

tagging (my narco taglist): @drabbles-mc @cositapreciosa @purplesong1028 @ashlingiswriting @thesandbeneathmytoes @hausofmamadas @empireroyals @marissa53115 @iridescent-sol​ 

It started as a normal night for you. A car parked outside your window, a large palm over your knee once you were seated in the back of it. Amado purring words to your right, hip to hip, about his plans for the evening. Where he was taking you to eat, where you’d go afterwards, how long he intended to keep you for—if you liked. You could dance until the sun came up if you wanted to.

‘Y entonces?’ you’d asked him. ‘Will my bed miss me again tonight?’

He’d smiled, shrugged and ticked his head to the side like he was indifferent about it. ‘Sí, if you like, amor.’

You can’t say he doesn’t spoil you.

You’d ended up at a club, as promised, to dance into the sunrise and it wasn’t long until you had him moving too. Only took a few drinks, a hand to the side of his neck, an invite to put his own as low as he liked on you. He can move, when he cares to. His thigh went between yours, his skin close enough to swallow his cologne in gulps. Expensive, of course, and patted into the base of his throat, exposed by the undoing of a few top buttons.

‘Any more,’ he said, into the shell of your ear, ‘and I’ll be too indecent to stay.’

You twisted the third button between your finger and thumb, let him sway you from the anchor of his thigh. ‘Maybe that’s the plan,’ you teased.

‘You’re bored already, mi cielo?’

‘Bored, no.’ Hands down his chest, nails to the cotton, then back up and around his neck. ‘I’m distracted.’

That pleased him, sent a smirk onto his lips and lost half an inch of space between you, not that it was possible to be any closer than you already were. ‘One more drink,’ he bartered, ‘and then we’ll go home, bien?’

It was a fair deal, a fun one that snaked into your chest and blurred the senses. Filled you to the brim with lust, happiness, smoky indulgence that you’d never stop craving. You peeled apart from him and followed the feeling to the bar. Another of the same, you told the guy behind it, smiling as you said it, room spinning, pulsing. Overhead lights going in so many colours that the man looked like he was made of water, reflecting everything back at you, moving despite being stationary. He poured and you watched. Handed you the drinks and expected no payment in return, because it went on the tab, as always. He knew Amado near enough as well as you do.

When you arrived back to your spot, Amado was turned away from you, watching a man split the crowd in the opposite direction. You tapped his bicep with the drink you’d brought him.

‘Who was that?’ you asked, following the question with a sip of your own. The cocktails were long past tasting of alcohol, it was just juice and fizz and sugar by then.

‘Ah, no-one.’ He took his own and nodded a thank-you. ‘Just some guy jealous of my date.’  

‘Pfft, be quiet.’ If you weren’t both holding drinks, you’d have batted his arm for being so ridiculous, and so smug about it too. Instead, his dumb smile infected you, curling your lips though you tried to fight it. ‘You can’t flirt your way out of every secret, guapo.’

‘I can try.’ 

His arm went around your waist, forearm hot against the already warm skin between your shirt and your pants. Heat to heat. He put his lips to yours. You let him pull you into the kiss willingly, tongue chasing tongue. The edge of alcohol was there in his mouth, where it wasn’t in your glass, and you drank readily. Eagerly.

And then the gun went off; one shot to start with, so loud and unexpected that you sprung away from everything: Amado, your drink, the foot of space you’d been occupying. Your body acted before you’d even recognised it as a gunshot. Heart pounding through your chest, eyes running the course of the room.

‘Oye, pendejo,’ is all Amado said, at first. He put it under his breath, far too casual for the situation, like it was just a mild inconvenience to him. A fly in his beer. His palm found your back, at the base of your spine, fingers stretching to pull you to him again. I’m here, it said, nothing to worry about yet. ‘Let’s go, yeah? That way.’

‘Amado, what…?’

You know how you must’ve looked, wide eyed, frozen and deer-like. With the people fleeing around you and the flashing of the lights, you couldn’t even see who it was on the assault. Just heard the pop, the bang, the burst of screaming patrons that followed it.

Another rang out then, closer this time, and you know it was pointed at the ceiling now, because it crumbled overhead. Dust and glass and plastic. It littered your hair before Amado had chance to shield you from it. You aren’t ashamed to admit that a scream pierced out of you too, raw and unlike any noise you’ve made before, but still, Amado barely flinched. His arm went up, a second too late, and over your head, his body purposely put between you and the shooter.

‘That way, amor,’ he said again, steady as anything. ‘We’ll take the door out the back, okay?’

A third gunshot went into the roof, followed by his name shouted above the racket of it all. Whoever it was, he was mad, ravenous.

You had no more questions left in you, just blind, terrified obedience. You let Amado turn you, hands to your biceps, away from the chaos and guide you through the scattering crowd. Past the bar, through the store rooms you were never supposed to see, and out of the weighted fire door with little other explanation. The transition happened so fast, a blur, a stumble, that you only realised how far you’d come once the wall of cold hit you on the other side.

You were out. The club sat behind you, braying with noise. You felt like your lungs had stayed there, where you had been, on the sticky floor of the club. You couldn’t do anything but gasp, your chest didn’t fill no matter how hard you tried. Just half-breath, after half-breath.

Amado shut the door, firmly, and the riot went with it, muffled behind the thick plating of the fire-exit. ‘You okay?’ he asked, but you couldn’t answer him yet. You were still working on the breathing part. ‘My love.’ He moved so that he could stand in front of you. ‘Easy, amor. One breath and hold it, hm? You can do that.’

You tried. Sucked in as much air as you could and held it, eyes on his, counting as he did in the cold night, until he gave you the nod to exhale again. It helped. You repeated it, one breath at a time together.

He looked un-phased, slightly damp at the forehead, black hair pressed to his temples, but that was there from the dancing anyway. You could’ve been stepping out for a smoke, from the looks of him. Tucking behind the commercial sized dumpsters for the sake of privacy. It was only the shake of your hands that dispelled the possibility.

‘Who was that, Amado?’

‘I told you. Some güey, celoso de mí.’

You shoved him; it wasn’t like you, but it sprung out anyway, clumsy palms to his chest, new, hot anger behind your ears. ‘Don’t bullshit me, Amado. Someone fucking shot at us.’

And that was new. That was something your friends had told you would happen, but had never touched you before then.

Your anger rolled off him, bounced from the black shirt to the black night around you both. He couldn’t blame you for it. You could see in his face that he understood. ‘He was only trying to scare me,’ he reasoned, ‘scare you. Asshole’s too reckless for his own good.’

‘Who?’ you insist. ‘Who the fuck?’

And then the door swung open, breaking your solitude, handle hitting the bricks hard enough to spit dust into the air. 

Rafa, possessed and lurching forward, with the gun in his hand still. 

You can’t get in the way fast enough, the barrel is to Amado’s head in an instant. He inches to the trigger—

And that’s where you wake up, where reality twists into the surreal and you’re able to jump yourself free. That didn’t happen, there were shots, yes, an escape through the back, but Rafa never followed the two of you out. You never saw him, never saw the flash of metal to Amado’s head, that’s just the bullshit that’s come since. The dream that comes back every night; a memory you’ve tried to forget, with some sick twist plastered onto the end of it, just to grind salt into the wound. Just to make it all worse.

‘Amado?’ You find yourself dry-throated and unable to call any louder. He isn’t beside you, but the sheets are pulled back from where he’s been and left. The bedside lamp is on still. You force a swallow and try again, ‘Amado?’

In a moment he’s there, in the doorway of his bedroom, robe open and chest bare. He looks more worried now than he did a week ago, under the crumbling ceiling, in the face of danger. He looks at you like Rafa’s bullet had found somewhere worthwhile to land. ‘Sorry,’ he says, pulling forward without needing an explanation. ‘I was making a call.’

You dismiss the apology. It’s fine, you don’t want him to feel like he can’t leave your side, no matter how recurring the nightmare is. ‘That fucking dream again,’ you mutter, feeling the tightness lift as he sits by your legs. The mattress goes down, your chest goes out, one deep breath after the other. ‘Every night, I’m there again.’

His hand goes to your face, fingertips brushing the shortest parts of your hair behind your ear. ‘It’ll get better.’

‘Will it?’

‘Easier,’ he corrects. ‘With time.’

You resist the urge to throw yourself back onto the pillows in frustration. You shouldn’t need time, you shouldn’t be robbing him and yourself of sleep each night. ‘Nothing even happened, Amado. No-one was hurt.’ Your voice thins. ‘I never even saw him.’

Amado had. Tall enough to see over the ducked heads and fleeing bodies, but he’d kept it to himself until you were home, back at his place and away from danger. Where you’re safe, he’d told you, and why does it matter who it was? Rafa is no-one to you. To us.

‘Why sit and torture yourself any more than your dreams do?’ he asks, letting his hands settle on the bed either side of your thighs. ‘It’s normal to be afraid. Pendejo was shooting up a club.’

‘But you aren’t—’

He cuts you off, voice calm and even, ‘And who am I, then? A normal guy?’ He’s used to it, he means, he shouldn’t be, but he is. Guns and chaos. They follow him like fire and smoke.

‘I just hate,’ you try, unable to meet his gaze suddenly. ‘I hate expecting this of you. We’re supposed to be having fun, not, not this.’ You gesture to yourself, to the bed that feels more palliative care than honeymoon right now. Things aren’t how they used to be between the two of you, no matter how hard you try to fix it.  

When you look up again, he’s smiling faintly, face warm in the sunset of the bedside lamp. ‘Amor,’ he says, ‘I would never sleep again if that’s what it took.’

You scoff.

‘I’m serious.’ He shrugs. ‘I have books I’ve been meaning to read, I can stay up and keep the dreams away, if you need me to.’

‘You’re ridiculous,’ you tell him, but you’re smiling, just about. The nightmare feels worlds away when he talks like that, put quiet behind the fire-exit again.

‘Pues, that’s love, no?’ He leans forward, presses a kiss to your cheek, then your lips. ‘Making men ridiculous.’

‘Sí,’ you breathe, into the stubble across his chin, ‘I suppose so.’

‘Get some rest,’ he says, before offering a final taste. ‘I’ll be here when you wake up.’

It won’t make all the difference, but it’s enough to get you halfway.

[nwheregirl]

NSFW JANITOR.AI NARCOS MÉXICO CHARACTERS MADE BY ME. (NFSW, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, 18+ ONLY, SPANISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE I’M A STUDENT 🫶)

WARNING: not romanticising the real people, the bots are about the fictional characters played by these amazing actors.

[drabbles-mc]

Stay a Little Longer

Horacio Carrillo x F!Reader

For Day 23 of @narcosfandomdiscord's July Smut Challenge: "We probably shouldn't do this."

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, smut

Words: 1.5k

A/N: Two smut fics in one day??? Who is she?? I don't know her.

Narcos Taglist: @thesandbeneathmytoes @garbinge @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @buckybarneshairpullingkink @boomclapxox @nessamc @southotheborder @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @hausofmamadas @narcolini @cositapreciosa (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

“We probably shouldn’t do this.”

That was what you’d said to Carrillo two weeks ago in his office. It was late. Everyone else had gone home. It’d been another day full of fruitless endeavors. Leads that ended up leading nowhere. Everyone’s nerves were shot by the end of the day, people taking off as soon as they were able because they just couldn’t bear to sit and stew in all of it anymore.

Except you and the Colonel.

For most of the evening, you’d been in your respective spaces. You had your desk, part of the cluster with Steve and Javi, and Carrillo had his office. You had headphones on, straining to listen to the recordings that had been dropped off towards the end of the day. Javi had tried to convince you to leave them for the next day, to take the few hours you all got in the evening to unwind and feel a little less shitty about it all. But you couldn’t turn your back on it.

You assumed that Carrillo had whatever his version of that was going on in his office, which was why he also didn’t take off when his shift ended. You watched all the other officers trickle out of the base when the time came, but not him. He didn’t try to stop any of them either, didn’t try to make them put in the extra hours. Maybe he, like you, knew that these efforts weren’t going to yield much more than the rest of the day had. But just in case.

You had made yourself listen to the tapes over and over until the words began to blend together. You didn’t even want to look at the time when you finally decided you needed to leave. Standing up from your desk, you made your way towards Carrillo’s office instead of the door that would take you out of the building. If staying late wasn’t the first mistake, that definitely was.

You knocked as you entered, something that Carrillo had reminded you time and time again negated the entire purpose of knocking. He didn’t say anything about it this time. Instead, he just looked up from the papers that were spread across his desk in front of him.

Walking deeper into his office, you landed yourself on the opposite side of his desk. Leaning forward, you braced yourself against it, fingers wrapping around the edge of it. “It’s late.”

He huffed out a laugh that didn’t have a trace of humor to it. “I’m aware.”

“I’m going home,” you said, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. “You should too.”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

You rolled your eyes. “Because you’re going to get so much more done in the next, what, hour? Maybe two?”

“If our roles were reversed right now what would—”

“If our roles were reversed you wouldn’t stop and say anything to me before leaving for the day,” you cut him off with a quiet laugh.

He frowned at you for a moment before his face went back to neutral. You figured that was the closest thing to a smile that you were going to get given the day you’d all had. He leaned back in his chair, tossing his pen onto the top of his desk as he did. He pushed his chair back, and you thought that you’d won the exchange. It would’ve been the quickest, and one of the only, wins that you’d ever had against him. You’d gladly take it, though. However, instead of standing up, he reached and pulled open one of the bottom drawers of his desk. He pulled out two glasses first, followed by a bottle.

He didn’t ask if you wanted a drink. Instead, he just filled both glasses and set one closer to you. You contemplated it for a moment, but it wasn’t as though you had anything better to do in the moment. Standing upright, up swiped the glass off the desk and took a long sip. Not enough to down it all in one go, but close. Carrillo’s eyes studied you the entire time. He drank all his in one shot.

The two of you repeated that process a few times over while you talked shop. The conversation fluctuated back and forth between talking about work, and the two of you giving each other a hard time about one thing or another. You knew precious little about the Colonel’s life outside of work, the same way he didn’t know much about yours. But you both had your assumptions about each other. You were both in the ballpark on most things, even if you’d never admit it out loud.

He picked up the bottle, ready to empty the last of it into your glasses. It felt silly to stop now, but you were also keenly aware of the fact that sometimes all it took was one more drink to put you over the edge into doing something stupid.

“I think I’m gonna get going.” You wanted to sound certain, but you knew that you didn’t.

“You already stayed this long,” he said, the same decisiveness to his tone that he always had.

“Which is why,” you responded as you stood up from the chair you were sitting in, “I definitely need to leave now.”

You set the glass on his desk. You gave him one last nod and a quick goodnight before turning and starting towards the door. Even as you did it, it felt anticlimactic. But anticlimactic was better than stupid, so you kept going.

Then you heard the sound of his chair scraping against the floor. You sucked in a deep breath, but you still took another step towards the doorway of his office. You heard his footsteps, heavy in his boots, closing the gap between you. You hesitated just long enough for him to catch up to you. His hand wrapped around your arm just above your elbow, grip tight enough to show he wanted you, not so tight that you couldn’t break away if you didn’t want him.

You let him turn you around to face him. He was closer to you in that moment than he had ever been before. “We probably shouldn’t do this.”

His nod turned into a shrug as he turned the words over in his mind. Carrillo only ever worked in absolutes, and apparently probably wasn’t close enough to definitely in terms of what the two of you shouldn’t do. And if it wasn’t enough to be a definite no, in his book that made it a definite yes.

He leaned in and kissed you, harsh but brief. When he pulled back, his hold on your arm loosened as well. He was offering you the keys to a getaway car if you wanted out. You should’ve wanted out. But instead you brought your lips right back to his.

The papers and glasses scattered across his desk never stood a chance.

And now here you were with him, two weeks later. Still in his office, still staying later than anyone in their right mind ever would. You were perched on the edge of his desk with him standing between your legs. The only difference between now and then was the fact that neither of you had a drop of alcohol in your system. The only thing you could blame the fallout on was yourselves. As his teeth grazed along the side of your neck, you figured that you could live with the blame if it came to that.

His movements were intense, almost hasty. You couldn’t blame him—it wasn’t as though you were moving with a whole lot of finesse either. You weren’t looking for soft touches and the lingering feelings of romance. If that’s what you’d been looking for, you wouldn’t have gone to the Colonel in the first place. You’d said it yourself that this was a bad idea. Neither of you were looking to linger in that.

You helped him get your pants down, leveraging yourself against his shoulders so that he could pull them down and off of you. The second they were down you went to work on his belt, fumbling with the buckle as he brought his lips back to yours, but you still managed to get it undone. You pushed them midway down his thighs, his fatigues and his underwear. Just low enough so that when he pulled you to the very edge of the desk, he could easily and comfortably slide right into you.

The tips of his fingers dug into your hips while you gripped tightly onto his shoulders. If there hadn’t been the fabric between you, your nails would’ve dug right into the meat of his muscles. You briefly wondered if you would ever know the feeling.

But you could still feel him. His breath hot against your neck, his brutal pace driving you to and clean over the edge. His lips against the shell of your ear saying things to you that you briefly wondered if he’d ever said to anyone else.

You probably shouldn’t do it, but as his teeth sank into your bottom lip, you knew that you would. Over and over again.

[mariabolivar12]

Cartas de amor prohibido

Emparejamiento: Horacio Carrillo x lectora Escobar

N/E: esta fue la idea de una seguidora así que espero que te guste y cumpla con las expectativas @camipad

Resumen: estabas cansada de esconderte y pagar por los crímenes de tu hermano, el dinero sucio no era algo que te guste por eso un día decidiste tomar una decisión que cambio tu vida y la de tu hermano

Sabías que era arriesgado, más aún porque no tenías mucho tiempo y sabías que tu hermano se iba a enterar, no iba a estar contento y lo sabías, pero eso no te importo, entrantes al lugar decidida y con un objetivo claro, sobresalía entre la multitud su cabellera rubia era reconocible, sentado en la barra con un vaso de whiskey por la mitad y una mirada lejana el agente Murphy tu salida de ese infierno

-es malo tomar solo y no invitarle un trago a una dama señor Murphy- su cabeza se giró tan rápido en tu dirección que juraste escuchar algún hueso de su cuello crujir, su mirada de asombro fue lo que te hizo saber que claramente sabía quien eras

-¿que es lo que quieres? ¿Porque me buscas?-divisaste su mano justo encima del sitio donde su revólver descansaba, de todas las situaciones que pasaron por tu mente nunca se te cruzó la idea de que tuviera una reacción tan a la defensiva y no lo culpas es entendible el porqué

-tranquilo agente Murphy, vine por mi propia voluntad…sólo quiero que lo atrapen, puedo darte lo que se…quiero ayudar, que acabe con las masacres y los muertos…es lo único que quiero?-

-a cambio de que? Y porque debería creerte?-

-a cambio de que me saquen de esto…a cambio de la Paz en mi vida, eso es lo que quiero a cambio…si tuviera alguna otra intención ya la habría llevado a cabo-

Resultó que es un gran conversador, y aunque te costó mucho convencerlo de tus verdaderas intenciones, lo lograste y en realidad era más amable de lo que parece y de hecho te escucho todo lo que tenías que decir, pero también te pregunto por muchas cosas las cuales respondiste la mayoría, algunas las cuales no sabías solo no las contestabas

Te llevo a la escuela Carlos Holguín, donde te presento a su compañero Javier peña quien al momento de verte su cara perdió color, eso era algo que tu hermano había hecho y tú estabas cansada de causar esa impresión en las personas, y de que la sombra de lo que había hecho también afectará tu vida y la percepción de la gente sobre ti, a pesar de eso te escuchó y preguntó casi las mismas cosas que su compañero, al paso de diez minutos de interrogatorio apareció un joven oficial, quien parecía amigable pero a la vez serio y agotado, como todos los oficiales a tu alrededor

-Murphy, peña el Coronel quiere verlos…ahora- se dio vuelta y caminó en la misma dirección en la que vino, el agente Murphy te dijo que esperaras en su escritorio, su compañero solo se limitó a observarte con detenimiento, los dos se fueron sin más y sólo cinco minutos después regresaron con un hombre del cual habías escuchado hablar y no precisamente eran cosas buenas, pero nunca lo habías visto en persona y de hecho no parecía tan malo como tu hermano lo había hecho ver

Su uniforme estaba pulcramente limpio y acomodando al igual que sus botas, su cabello negro fielmente peinado y recortado con el atisbo de algunas canas, caminaba con una rigidez única de un militar pero también con una autoridad y autosuficiencia como si fuera el dueño del lugar, su cara no reflejaba ninguna emoción pero su rostro era atractivo sin duda, su uniforme se acoplaba a su musculoso torso, lograste evidenciar sólo un reloj de plástico negro en su muñeca izquierda sin rastro de un anillo lo que te hizo pensar que era un desperdicio que no tuviera dueña, por muy guapo que te haya parecido no era el motivo por el que estabas aquí…aunque sin duda alguna acudir al agente Murphy había sido una gran decisión

-¿porque la hermana de Pablo Escobar quiere traicionarlo?-si creías que su cuerpo era atractivo su voz lo era el doble, Dios este hombre era obra del demonio…aunque su tono de seriedad te hizo saber que no estaba jugando y que quería echarte lo más pronto posible, se tomó el tiempo de escucharte y de hacerte innumerables preguntas las cuales respondiste gustosa

-¿porque debería creerte?¿que hay diferente entre tu y tu hermano?-

-de verdad Coronel usted cree que estaría aquí de no ser cierto…mi hermano debe estar buscándome por todas partes y apenas se entere si es que no lo ha hecho ya, vendrá a buscarme, sabe que no estoy de acuerdo con nada de lo que hace pero eso no le importa…quiero que si algún día tengo hijos no tengan que vivir con el peso de ser familia de un narco y no cualquier narco-lo miraste a los ojos y su mirada no demostró ninguna emoción, solo oscuridad y frialdad en sus orbes marrones

-te llevaremos a un lugar seguro, solo tendrás contacto conmigo y con nadie más-

A partir de ahí todo pasó como un borrón, ese mismo día te llevó a una casa segura, el único que sabía de tu ubicación era él y los hombres que estaban afuera de la puerta, el lugar no era muy grande pero al menos estabas fuera del alcance de tu hermano, la tarde cayó y con ella llegó la noche, no lograste encontrar el sueño y justo cuando creíste que estabas a punto de cerrar los ojos el ruido de la puerta te despertó

Con mucho cuidado llegaste a la sala donde divisaste al intruso vestido de verde oliva entrar a la casa, se veía exactamente igual que esa mañana solo que ahora un poco más cansado, traía una bolsa de plástico en la mano y debajo de su brazo un sobre de papel, dejó todo sobre la mesa del comedor y luego abrió el sobre de papel donde sacó varias fotos

-cuando volví al comando dejaron estas fotos para mí, tenías razón cuando dijiste que sabía donde estabas…además de las fotos dejó una nota-

-que decía esa nota?-

-no está feliz, dijo que si no te entregamos iba a matarnos y que si te tocaba un solo cabello mi castigo sería peor que la muerte, pero eso no pasara y así tenga que morir por protegerte lo haré-

-Gracias Coronel-

-es mi trabajo, en la bolsa hay comida suficiente para dos días, mañana en la mañana llegará algo de ropa y más comida-

-hasta cuando estaré aqui?-

-con esa amenaza creo que por bastante tiempo, así que ponte cómoda-se sentó en el sofá de la sala y encendió el televisor, se quitó las botas y se puso cómodo

-se va a quedar aquí?-

-esta es mi casa, por supuesto que si- te tomó por sorpresa pero se notaba que no quería hablar más del tema así que sólo tomaste la bolsa y acomodaste todo donde creíste que iban, luego te dirigiste a la habitación no sin antes echar un vistazo a la sala donde lo encontraste dormido en el sofá todavía sentado en la misma posición en la que se sentó hace un rato

A la mañana siguiente no encontraste el cuerpo que dejaste en el sofá la noche anterior pero lo que sí encontraste fue un desayuno que aunque no fuera lo más lindo del mundo tenía pinta de estar delicioso

Estuviste en su casa por más de seis meses, y en todo ese tiempo lograste captar sentimientos por el hombre a quien aprendiste a conocer y a querer, al principio te dio miedo aceptarlo pero te diste cuenta que no era nada malo, que si pudiste sobrevivir a tu hermano podrás con un rechazo, pero no fue así de hecho fue todo lo contrario Horacio como habías empezado a llamarlo te correspondió y de qué manera

A partir de ahí trataba de llegar más temprano y de poder conversar contigo, aunque no podían salir mucho estaban felices, le enseñaste a cocinar y también a bailar salsa y el té enseñó a bailar merengue, sus noches se volvieron tu momento del día favorito porque podías estar cerca de él y de la seguridad de sus brazos

-esta noche llegaré algo tarde mi amor, así que no te preocupes por mi-

-papi sabes que siempre me preocupo por ti y más cuando llegas a altas horas, llámame para saber que estás bien si?-

-esta bien mi amor, te amo nos vemos- luego de un largo beso se marchó, no te gustaba cuando eso pasaba porque solo significaba que estaría en un operativo, pero entendías que era su trabajo, y aunque te pedía que no lo esperaras despierta siempre lo hacías, y no por querer llevarle la contraria sino más bien porque querías asegurarte de que estuviera bien

El día de Horacio fue duro, estaba cansado y sudoroso, no veía la hora de llegar a casa contigo, pero los informes que tenía que entregar no se lo permitían, en el camino a su oficina se encontró a los norteamericanos sentados en sus escritorios rodeados de una nube de humo causada por sus cigarrillos, inclinó su cabeza en forma de saludo y siguió su camino, al entrar en su oficina encontró que en su escritorio reposaba un sobre con su nombre escrito en el

Al abrirlo lo primero que vio fue una carta escrita a mano, seguida de un par de fotos en las cuales sin duda alguna se podía ver a la mujer de su vida despidiéndose de él con un largo beso en la puerta de su casa, al ver las fotos por un momento se asustó y no por él sino por ti, tenía enemigos y esto significaba que sabían dónde estabas y eso si lo asusto

Señor Coronel Horacio Carrillo

He recibido la desagradable noticia de que mi hermana está hospedada en su casa, lo cual no es algo de mi entera gracia, espero que por su propio bienestar entienda que lo mejor para ella es estar alejada de usted ya que a su lado corre peligro su vida y las consecuencias que pueden traerle a usted serán nefastas, espero que pueda razonar y entender que ella debe estar con un verdadero hombre y debe estar de vuelta en su hogar ya que empieza a hacernos mucha falta, esta será la única advertencia de mi parte parte para usted Coronel, espero tome la mejor decisión para su propio bienestar

Att: Pablo Escobar

Pensó por un momento que era una broma, de verdad quería creerlo, Pablo Escobar le envió una carta para amenazarlo, de verdad estaba a punto de reír, como era siquiera posible que le estuviera exigiendo que se apartara de tu lado, en este punto de su vida y de su relación contigo sabía exactamente bien lo que tenía que hacer, por eso antes de irse a casa abrió el Cajón de su escritorio y sacó de él una pequeña caja de terciopelo y la guardó en su bolsillo no sin antes darle una respuesta a la amenaza de su cuñado

Señor Pablo Escobar

Creí por un momento que se trataba de una broma de mal gusto y lo sigo creyendo, nose con que fundamentos cree usted que cuenta para exigirme que me aleje de su hermana, porque ni aunque me ponga tres objetivos en la espalda lo haré, ella significa todo para mi y tomó la decisión correcta al alejarse del mundo de terror que te has encargado de construir, no me alejare de ella porque la amo con todo mi corazón y pienso hacerla mi esposa, ella no llevará más tu apellido será la futura señora de carrillo, y nuestros hijos no tendrán nunca que vivir con el peso de tus pecados

Att: Coronel Horacio Carrillo

Posdata: nadie me a apartar del lado de la mujer mi vida ni siquiera su propio hermano