#rafael caro

[boatboys]

A whole variety of things that have not managed to get posted, of varying significance, completion, symbolism and and canon...nicity. Canonness. Canonitude.

[splickedylit]

It's the big fuckin noses baybeeee

Do you have a "favourite" physical trait to give to your OCs? If so, what is it?

[uchispeach]

Empire (Pt. 1)

Dark! Drug Lord x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Possessive and manipulative behavior, obsession, death threats, gang violence, guns & drugs, kidnapping, non-con groping & kissing, manhandling, age gap, Sheltered! Reader…

Summary: The moment Rafael Caro Quintero laid eyes on you, something inside him snapped. You weren’t meant for his world—too innocent, too untouched—but that didn’t matter. He wanted you. And when Rafa wanted something, he took it.

Oblivion could be blissful, except when the order of things is unexpectedly changed from one day to another.

Reality can give devastating hits, that’s why most people decide to hide under ignorance—to sit still until it all explodes on their faces. You were one of those people, just not willingly.

Your dad knew you weren’t the sharpest tool in the shed; a sweet and gentle soul like you wouldn’t survive a day by yourself. At least, that’s what he told himself when cutting every single feather of your freedom wings, prohibiting you to even dream about leaving home one day.

It’s not like many questions were asked, you were never a rebellious child—always latching to your dad’s side after your mother’s abandonment, probably afraid of being left behind once again.

The bubble you lived in felt pretty stable, all filled with calmness and warmth. A loving father, a nice house and a calm city, that’s all you had known for 19 years.

“Good morning!” You stopped chewing in order to cover your mouth, pronouncing each word with effusiveness. Your father looked neat, a perfect ironed shirt accompanied by his signature vest. “Good morning, pretty girl!” His polished shoes squeaked funnily against the wood flooring.

Adding to his serious look, a black leather suitcase hung from his arm. Your eyes focused on his flared nostrils, admiring his ability to smell food from meters apart. “Oh, just what I like” His tone leaked with excitement, followed by desperate hands reaching for the utensils.

Each meal was spent together, one of the various rules you had been imposed since a young age. You weren’t opposed to it at all, gladly enjoying your father’s company when eating yet another home cooked meal.

The Kitchen’s layout was just the same from any other middle class home, classic and cozy—causing the electronic device in front of you to stand out.

A TV was one of those things you could never convince your father to like, too modern and distracting for his academic taste. However, with enough begging and birthday wishing, you could finally get to bring it home.

“Police are still investigating the sudden death of José Naranjo and his brother, Pablo Naranjo. Two recognized business men in Guadalajara, owners of multiple restaurants and hotels spread all over the city-” The news reporter looked dull, monotone voice combining his inexpressive features.

“Turn that off…breakfast is for spending time with family not staring at a screen.” Your dad looked at you through sharp eyes, adding authority to his demand. You complied immediately, rushing to press the button.

“Pft. Business men, I can’t believe that’s what they call them nowadays.” The silver fork suffered under his grasp, eyebrows tightened together showing discontent. Meanwhile, confusion decorated your face—quickly puzzled by the sudden complaint.

“What do you mean, daddy?” The last mentioned sighed heavily. “I’m just saying…people don’t get killed for no reason.” You froze, limbs feeling heavy at the cruel assumption. “Don’t say that, dad!” A hint of indignation tickling your throat.

Unfortunately, your father was right. The Naranjos weren’t your common old money family. In fact, they didn’t even come from generational wealth, more so from new opportunities. Two guys that knew exactly who to bribe, who to be friends with and who to eliminate. The pair of drug lords who ran your state.

The grey haired man decided to ignore your newfound empathy, clearly aware that it came from naivety.

One would think the extinction of yet another pair of assholes was a great input for humanity, and it was. The only problem being the empty vacant waiting to be filled by a crueler competitor.

Either way, none of that seemed to affect you from the Ford Pinto’s passenger seat. Too occupied admiring the city’s morning glow—unaware of the growing revolution happening on the same land you happily stepped on every day.

(…)

Punctuality above anything else, that’s what had been preached at home since the day you came to this world. Still, you always seemed to find new ways to distract yourself on campus.

But who could blame you? No one, not when a middle class girl with mediocre grades like you got to attend one of the most elite universities in all the country. “Ugh, thank God…at least, we’ll be late together.” You flinched at the intrusive arms wrapping around your shaky shoulders.

Sofia’s timeless face stared at you in playfulness, her pink lips stretched on a confident smirk while her gold earrings swinged around. “I wouldn’t be so relieved if I was you…” Your voice shook with each long stride you took.

“Oh, come on. I’m sure being the teacher’s daughter has its perks.” The brunette’s hair bounced smoothly with each movement, accompanied by her flared jeans and girly purse.

A slight frown morphed your features. On one side, you were deeply grateful for your father’s efforts, recognizing he was the only reason you ever got to step foot in the building. But on the other, it was exhausting—having to perform under his perfectionist supervision could be dreadful.

“Knock.” The tall girl threw at you, standing lazily next to a closed door. You shook your head in horror. “No. You knock!” Even with all the noise coming from the corridor, you could still hear the grey haired man lecturing the class of rich kids.

“Whatever…” Sofia’s green eyes rolled with annoyance, followed by his rough hands turning the metal handle. You took a deep breath, chest rising rapidly at the crowded room’s sight.

“Miss Conesa…and companion.” He looked strict, with his straightened back, puffed chest and one foot ruler pointing straight at you. Warmth started flowing to your face, feeling overwhelmed by the possibility of being berated in front of your juvenile classmates.

“Just…take a seat.” His sigh echoed through the tall walls, hurrying you to take a seat upfront. Quickly, your hands scattered through the infinity of notebooks, hoping to not anger the professor any further.

(…)

“And that’s the difference between permeable and impermeable surfaces.” The sun leaked through the huge windows, reflecting its beautiful light on the chalk drawings. Your heart rate had finally stabilized after a few minutes of inhaling and exhaling frenetically. Leaving you in a relaxed state while attentively listening to yet another geographic explanation.

The soft hand held your jaw with gentleness, a common pose you took when being deeply entertained. Your dad sure knew how to give a class, making you feel a sense of pride while seeing him talk through every topic with professionalism.

He looked so composed, right in his element. Suddenly, his face morphed into a surprised one. His normally straight eyes opened up like two big plates, staring abnormally at a foreign presence.

Perhaps three foreign presences. Deep in thought, you had managed to ignore the heavy boots unapologetically stepping into your learning zone.

The door was left wide open, blocked by three brutish looking men. Their features were rough, just as their burly bodies, which flexed proudly under old T-shirts and torn jeans. They had dirt on their shoes and arms, making them stand out from the crowd of ironed dresses and Italian loafers. Still, none of those characteristics were as astonishing as the pair of handguns hanging from their side.

“Class is over.” The taller one stepped forward, leaving his two henchmen behind. Funnily enough, he was the only one without a weapon, nonetheless, he had the scariest presence out of them all.

His voice was deep and demanding, his frame nothing but small. He was all big muscles and scarred skin, a clenched jaw adding authority to his already outrageous behavior.

The two dark orbs posed themselves dangerously over your father, making you gasp quietly. “What the fuck?” Sofia whispered from beside you, following the crowd’s confused murmuring.

“Didn’t you hear, motherfuckers?” The shorter one shouted aggressively, making you jump out of your seat with shaking legs. “Get moving! Get the fuck out of here!” Big surprise hit you like a truck when every single one of your spoiled classmates started abandoning the room, a few of them encouraged by the frenetic trashing coming from the armed individuals.

The stiffer ones were not-so kindly moved by violent pulling and pushing, quickly kicked out onto the hall. The turmoil of emotions had you frozen in place, weak knees barely holding you up.

Fear clouded your senses, making you fail at recognizing the angry man approaching you from the side. “No. Wait!” You struggled to move under the tight grip, one of the aggressive goons dragging you by the forearm and onto the room’s entrance.

Meanwhile, the leader stomped his way to your father. Maniac glint in his gaze while approaching your trembling father. You trashed harder against the mean guy’s chest, planting your feet on the wood floor. “My babies are dying…Because of you, asshole.” Spit flew to your dad’s face, making him squeeze his eyes together in a mixture of disgust and fear.

“But don’t worry, you’re going to fix this.” In one swift movement, the delinquent grabbed him by the collar. “Let go of him. Dad!” Voice broken making your demand sound much less intimidating, and much more pitiful.

Slowly but confidently, the wild beast turned his head around—attention focused on a new target. The tip of his lips stretched sickly across his face, making you question whether a smile had even been a kind gesture to begin with.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re coming with us too.” His calloused hands yanked your father back, making him stumble over his desk. “Chapo, start the car. We’re leaving with both princesses.” The last thing you saw was a shameless wink.

And as you were forced to keep your sight down, you couldn’t shake the feeling of two dark orbs burning holes into your skin.

(…)

"Honesty is the root of trust," your father used to say each night before tucking you in. "And families trust each other."

It’s funny to look back on now, considering the number of times you caught him in a lie.

"Trust needs to be earned," he'd add, as if to justify the weight of his words. Now, that made more sense. Harsh but true. You weren’t worthy of trust—not in his eyes. He’d made that clear, thousands of times.

Like when he lied about where your mother was—told you she was just "gone for a while," but you saw her things packed up in the car days before.

It wasn’t hard to see, the avoidance of your dad’s stare was noticeable—even for a hazy girl like you. Either way, there had been no time for confrontation, both of you being quickly thrown into an unknown car.

The thick fabric covering your face made you feel suffocated, preventing your eyes from wandering around. All you sensed was the heavy smell of a cigar, mixed with a strong herbal note. A beer bottle rolled all over the vehicle’s floor, occasionally crashing against your feet.

Rafa—that was the leader’s nightmarish name. You’d heard the four letters being thrown from one of his men, in the midst of imploring for mercy as dozens of curses flew their way. Rafa wasn’t a merciful man, though, fueled by his never-ending rage.

“Fucking imbeciles,” he barked through clenched teeth, hitting the compartment with a tight fist once again. “Geologist, you better sort this shit out or I’ll fuck you up…”

A vein popped on his forehead, his wild curly hair barely covering it, while sharp teeth flashed in a wolfish smirk. Your eyes couldn’t admire it, but your mind couldn’t help but imagine it. “…real bad.” His last words were buried by a thick cloud of smoke, followed by a cruel laugh.

Northern Mexican music blasted through the vehicle’s radio, making you feel overwhelmed—alongside your companion’s anxious leg constantly bumping against yours.

Would honesty had been of any help?… Perhaps it could’ve kept you from hysterically sobbing against the leather seats, but knowing yourself, it would’ve given your fear deeper roots.

Guadalajara’s sun scorched your exposed skin, the flimsy sundress offering little protection. A pair of dark eyes fixated on you, trailing over your trembling body as their owner licked his lips in anticipation.

The car lurched to a sudden stop, the jolt making your limbs feel impossibly heavy. “Stop crying, doll. You’re in good hands.” A pair of rough, calloused hands yanked you forward, fingers digging harshly into your wrists as you collided with a firm chest.

The scent hit you first—leather and tobacco, laced with the cold, metallic bite of money. The path beneath your feet was uneven, sharp rocks tearing at your delicate flats, a cruel contrast to the heavy boots beside you.

Rafa’s large palm settled firmly on your nape, forcing you deeper into the unknown. His grip was suffocating, his presence inescapable. Dust swirled in the air, the distant murmur of men blending with your father’s ragged breathing. A sea of outlawed cowboys surrounded you, their watchful eyes tracking your every move.

Suddenly, you were held still, the big hand applying an unnecessary force to your neck. A hurt whine resumed your tears.

The first thing you saw was a precarious floor, all dirt, no pavement. Such a contrast from the cosmopolitan city you were forced out of.

A languid moan alerted you—your father’s formal clothes turned a mess as he kneeled down. The men surrounding you wore rough features, all crossed arms and mean stares. “They’re drier than your ass.” Rafa’s remark made the goons laugh.

Dope, kilometers and kilometers of weed—dying herbs starting to look brown at the lack of hydration. Your lips opened in surprise, a loud gasp leaving them unannounced. The plantation was immense, its illicit leaves flaunting almos mockingly at you.

Blink after blink, you weren’t able to take in the grandness of it. Your fixation denied you from awareness while your father stuttered at the mob’s complaints.

“Don’t lie to me. You know about this shit!” The furious man kneeled down, accusing the innocent man with a pointed finger. “That day, when I visited you in your classroom…fuck, you told me it was here.” The rant was endless, insult after insult burying your father deeper into desperation.

“Geography isn’t an exact science.” You expressed, reaching a pair of intolerant ears.

The thing about ignorance, it’s that it's often followed by recklessness. His orbs were a dark brown, making them almost match his black hair. But when he focused his gaze at you, they grew even darker than the inky strands.

“Is that right?” The slow roll of his shoulders as he stood up, the way his fingers gripped his belt—it was a silent warning, a display of dominance wrapped in effortless ease. “I don’t fucking care…” Your breath hitched when his hand reached out for your jaw—silver rings pinching your soft cheeks. “…You better find my water,” Every word was enunciated with contained violence, husky voice fanning your ear lobe. “or I’ll kill you both.” Rafa gave you a last tug, shaking your brain with aggressiveness.

Your knees wobbled as his helped him back up confidently. Without breaking eye contact, his fingers snapped condescendingly. A short armed guy ran to his side, providing him with relief—the fat blunt was instantly lighted by another man, allowing Rafa to take a slow drag from it.

(…)

The sun had long withdrawn, fading the heat, and quickly replacing it by the cool breath of the desert wind—that stirred the sand in soft whispers.

The moon, high and full, bathed everything in an ethereal glow, casting long shadows of the illegal crops. The goosebumps traveling down your spine were starting to become insufferable, representing the chilling cold penetrating your bones.

Rafa, on the other hand, seemed to be just fine. His shirt had long abandoned his torso—leaving a wide chest only covered by multiple gold chains.

Your tears had dried out, leaving salty paths down your puffy cheeks. You could barely focus on the map, your fingers tracing the faint lines that Rafa, with his commanding presence, had insisted you hold steady. Your gaze, despite your best efforts, would drift to him — to the way his broad shoulders moved as he worked, digging into the earth with purpose. The muscles of his back rippled with every movement, each twist and turn of his body making the air seem heavier, more intoxicating.

He was relentless, his focus unwavering, even as his chest rose and fell with the exertion of his labor. The sweat that clung to his skin glistened in the moonlight, the gold chains around his neck catching the light in a hypnotic way. His vulgar curses would occasionally make you flinch, alongside the smoldering gaze he would direct to you each time the wind lifted your skirt.

Most of his men had drifted to sleep, exhausted by the long hours of being overworked—their snores barely drowned by the sporadic explosion of a grenade.

“Fucking bullshit” An animalistic grunt flew your way as Rafa climbed out of the huge hole he had just dug. His heavy lidded eyes leaked with frustration, making you step back in precaution.

Heavy boots made the floor creak. The man with black hair stomped his way back into the thatched-roof hut you had previously used to take refuge from the sun. Shyly, you followed right behind.

“Sons of bitches” He murmured between greeted teeth, violence in his eyes at the sight of a sleepy crew. A bottle of beer crashed onto the floor, purposely thrown by the fuming boss.

With both dirty hands, he took a whole batch of boxes with him. Effortlessly, he carried the explosive filled thing.

“Rafa, I don’t think that’s a good-” Your opinion went half heard, a concussive rumble numbing your ear holes and everyone’s around.

Men’s grunts and gasps were heard from all around, the explosion having woken up the sleepy crew. “What the fuck, Rafa?” The one they called ‘Chapo’ spoke in a raspy tone. Still, nothing seemed to get the maniac to stop.

This time, a whole box was thrown, “God damn it. You’re going to kill us all.” The black haired man pulled the pin of the last grenade with a slow, deliberate motion, his fingers steady despite the chaos humming in the air. The metal clinked as he rolled the explosive between his palms, like he was savoring the moment. But, just before he let it drop into the dark abyss below, he turned his head—just enough to catch your gaze. His eyes, wild and electric, gleamed under the dim light, a wicked grin stretching across his face, as if it was all just a game to him.

“Back up, back up.” Your father’s voice in the background did little for your nerves. Instinctively, your eyes shut together in distress.

The first explosion ripped through the silence like a thunderclap. Fire erupted from the impact, a shockwave tearing through the air, sending dirt flying in every direction. Before the dust could settle, a second detonation followed, louder, angrier. Then, absolute silence.

Nothing but the occasional chirping of a cricket interrupted the stillness. Until, it happened. A thin trickle seeped through the fractured soil. The trickle grew, turning into a steady stream, then water started surging upward in sudden bursts.

The liquid soaked you entirely, making you fear nearing hypothermia. “No fucking way, man!” Excited shouts numbed your brain, causing dizziness to attack you.

People jumped up and down in excitement, causing the ground to tremble beneath the force. Your confusion made you stumble around, no real direction in mind.

A pair of strong arms kept you steady for once, shameless digits gripping onto your hips. Dangling chains and sweaty chest pressing against you.

You felt him, the heat his body exuded was suffocating—as well as the invasive rubbing on your waist.

His breathing was ragged as it fanned on your hair. Big palms travelled to your jaw, handling it to the right angle—making you meet his dilated pupils.

He towered over you, mentally and physically. Every single one of his pores leaked cockiness, accompanied by that unbeatable grin, the type of grin only a powerful man has.

You were at the beginning of his empire and he would make sure you followed until the end of it. "You just secured me a shit ton of money," he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours, teasing, taunting. But there was no choice to be made, no escape from the crushing weight of his presence.

Before you could react, he took what he wanted—mouth colliding with yours in a brutal, possessive kiss. His grip on your jaw tightened as his tongue forced its way past your lips, swallowing your muffled protest like it was nothing. The world around you erupted in chaos—gunfire cracking through the air, cheers ringing out—but all you could feel was him, suffocating, unyielding, claiming.

.

.

.

[tenoch-hq]

Tenoch Huerta Mejía as Rafael Caro Quintero in NARCOS: MEXICO | 01 x 03 - El Padrino

[movieloversposts]

Just finished Narcos: Mexico a few days ago, and wow, both shows are great! Good plot, good characters (so many of them😭), and the action and dialogue is incredible!

Miguel Angel Felix Gallardo

Amado Carillo Fuentes

Pacho Herrera

Ramón Arellano Felix (He's so pretty in season 3, holy crap)

Enedina Arellano Felix

Rafael Caro Quintero

Joaquin 'El Chapo' Guzmán

Walt Breslin

Mimi Webb

I recommend this show if you liked Narcos or Griselda (another well done cartel show featuring Sofia Vergara)!

[aolechan]

Tenoch Huerta as Rafael Caro Quintero in NARCOS: MEXICO | 01 x 04 - Rafa, Rafa, Rafa!

[ramonashess]

Yo otra vez :) siempre quise hacer esto.

[feasibilities]

Se acabó la clase ⚒︎

Warnings: Angry!Rafa, Oral S3x, Spanking, Degradation, Teasing, etc.

Author's Note: My first Rafa fic after watching Narcos: Mexico over and over. Enjoy! ⚒︎

The monotonous lecture of your professor was interrupted by Rafa & his comrades bursting in. You were shocked to see him as you broke it off with him last week—over the phone. He pursued you heavily until you finally relented. He had become too unruly for your liking, so you wanted out before you got in serious trouble. This obviously didn't sit well with him. 

"Se acabó la clase." Rafa announced to the class. Everyone looked around confused. You saw fire in his eyes when they landed on you. You looked down & acted like you were taking notes. 

"Fuera, ahora!" Rafa's comrade yelled, pulling out a gun. Everyone gathered their things & walked out in an orderly fashion. The professor was escorted out with a gun pressed to his back. Following his orders, you tried to escape in the organized chaos. Rafa suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you back. You huffed in defeat and sat your bookbag on the desk. He slammed the door behind you, making you flinch. 

“You didn’t even have the courage to end this in person.” He hissed. 

“I know, Rafa. I just can’t risk it. You live such a dangerous life and-“ You confessed.

“You didn’t have a problem with my lifestyle when we were fucking or when I was buying you jewelry.” He interrupted, pulling you closer. 

You finally realized why he was so upset—his ego was hurt. He thought he got played by some rich college girl. You had him wrapped around your finger & he hated it so much. However, it was a thrill for you compared to the mundane life of a politician’s daughter.

“Let me make it up to you…” You cooed, feigning innocence. You kissed the corner of his lips gently. You then started to unbutton your blouse. He had no choice but to surrender to your seductions.

You watched him intently as you knelt in front of him. You undid his belt & unzipped his jeans at a painstakingly slow speed. You kissed up & down his shaft.

“Don’t tease, perra.” He warned.

Ignoring his demands, you gently slapped his manhood on your tongue. You made sure to stare into his eyes to rile him up even more. You watched his anger transform into pure desperation. You took his length in your mouth & bobbed your head slowly. The obscene noises you made his eyes roll back.

Feeling him throb, you sped up your movements and held his thighs tightly. Saliva  dripped down your chin & neck. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to breathe. Rafa uttered a multitude of obscenities at you in Spanish, but his eyes were full of love. He took a handful of your hair & thrusted into your mouth as he came. 

“Traga cada gota, amor.” He purred. 

You followed his orders & sat back to catch your breath. He thought you were so beautiful like this—mascara running, hair messy, blouse unbuttoned. He wished he brought his camera so he could add this moment to the filthy polaroids he had of you.

“So beautiful…” He whispered, running his thumb across your moist lips. You smiled and kissed his thumb. He pulled you up on your feet and bent you over the professor’s desk. You pulled up your skirt to reveal that you didn’t have on panties. You couldn’t see Rafa, but you felt his lustful gaze on you. 

After a few hard spanks, you felt him slide into you & hold your shoulders tightly. You moaned in response. His thrusts were so merciless and reached your deepest depths. Your eyes teared up at the sting his actions left. The sounds of skin hitting skin filled the lecture room. Rafa couldn’t care less if any unsuspecting students heard you two from the hallway.

Your mind went blank as you orgasmed. You convulsed and screamed in pleasure. Rafa held you up & watched as arousal spewed out of you. A perverse smile came across his face. He reveled in the thought that no one could fuck you like him.

[ethereal-am]

HELP

[namorslutfanfiction]

Hi it’s me again! You asked me to send multiple asks so here I am! So how about a couple blurbs for Rafa? One with #4 and another with #30 from the prompt list? Thank you friend 💜💜

Hey hey. So this first one turned into a whole mammoth. So I'm going to post #4 as it's own fic. And will post #30 as a separate post. It will just be easier to add to my Masterlist.

Summary: It's your birthday and Rafa has a gift for you, after months of the two of you fighting like cats.

You could practically feel Rafa losing his mind across the crowded club. For months the both of you had been at each others throats. In private you would find yourselves down each others throats in angry hook ups. Your disdain and attraction was palpable to everyone who had to watch you fight like neighborhood cats over the weed that Miguel had you both cultivating. Outside of your tenuous relationship with Rafa, the rest of the boys respected you. To the rest of the men you were one of the boys, except tonight. Tonight you had let Sofia and her girls dress you up as an apology gift. And while you hated the rich bitch's guts, she had taste and an eye for slutty clothing. Impressive considering she didn't have the curves to fill them out, but you did.

The tight, low-cut, and back baring dress fit you like a glove and left little to the imagination. This was a stark contrast to your normal outfits of jeans, boots, and flannels. It wasn't that you couldn't dress up, it was that it was pointless in your field. You however knew that you cleaned up well, and from the wolf whistles that had filled the club from your fellow narcos, they knew it too. You were in the middle of the dancefloor being fed drinks and dancing with everyone who took your hand. With the work you did and the men you surrounded yourself with it was rare for you to immerse yourself in your feminine wiles. But today was your birthday and it was time to party.

You glanced across the room as you danced with Chapo who was being as protective as an older brother. You locked eyes with Rafa who was deftly ignoring Sofia who was perched on the couch next to him, failing to grab his attention. It had been easy to pull Rafa in your direction after Sofia's betrayal. It made you scoff in disgust when she came back begging for the curly haired man's forgiveness. But he treated her like a whore now, instead of some goddess.

When Amado took your hand and stole you away from Chapo you followed. You disliked Amado but you knew it would get a rise out of the other narco. Rafa was always his sexiest when he was angry. He was such a cocky, self absorbed bastard but he was great in bed and had gotten you hooked on his chaotic nature after that first explosive hook up.

It had happened after weeks of tension, bickering, and threatening to kill each other. A late night when you couldn't sleep so you had been in the field, smoking a blunt, and basking in the cold desert night.

"Brujita, what are you doing out here? It's dangerous for a woman to be out here at night," Rafa circled you, his gold glinting in the light of the moon. You scoffed and blew smoke at him. He was more calm than he usually was in your presence as he stepped up close to you, his chest nearly touching yours, "There are coyotes out here you know."

"Don't pretend like you care whether or not I get eaten by coyotes. If I did you'd probably throw a party," You smirked at the dark man, annoyed that your eyes were drawn to his lips. The heady smell of weed was thick now that you had nearly burnt your blunt to a nub. You took one more long drag before tossing the butt to the ground and grinding it into the dirt with your boot heel. "I'll leave your precious little field now, cabron. But remember it wouldn't have grown this fast or this quickly without me."

You turned, walking down the aisle of plants. You expected him to shout some insult at you but instead he came up behind you and wrapped his hand around your throat, pointing a gun to your temple. Rafa's back was pressed to your front as he dug the tip of the handgun into the side of your head, "Pinche perra. I should have killed you when you came looking for your traitor brother. We don't need you anymore. We have everything and the crop is bigger than anything you could have ever done on your own you arrogant whore."

You knew you surprised him when you laughed. Rafa's hand may have been at your throat but he wasn't restricting your air way. "Do it then, puto. Like I give a fuck."

Rafa pushed you away and you turned to face him. The high making you reckless. The memories of your brother on what would have been his birthday making you hysterical. You grabbed the gun's nozzle and pointed it at your chest, pressing it up against your skin. "Come on, Quintero. Pull the trigger. I'll say 'hi' to my brother for you."

Rafa raised an eyebrow, "You're crazy."

You were sweating and getting more frustrated by the second. He looked so fuckable with that stupid ass look on his face. You unbuttoned the last few buttons of your flannel and tossed it on the ground, leaving you in your bra and jeans. You didn't miss the way that Rafa looked at your full chest. His gun was lowered toward the ground now but you took the barrel once more and brought it up to your face. Looking him in the eye, you opened your mouth and licked the tip of the gun seductively. Rafa's irises blew out to the edges of his pupil.

You burst out laughing again as you pushed the gun off to the side and grabbed the Narco's gold chain and yanked him close so you could speak into his ear. "Before you kill me maybe we could have some fun. Don't think I haven't noticed how you look at me sometimes. I've thought about it too, hate fucking you after one of our fights. I'd love to choke you while I show you what a good fuck really is, because whatever you were doing with that skank Sophia was pathetic."

Rafa's hand found your throat again and pushed you up against one of the plants. You grinned at him, knowing that her betrayal was still fresh, even if Miguel had gotten him out of it as always. The narco was breathing hard, enraged, and pressed up close to you. You snaked your hand down his other arm, prying his gun from his hand and dropping it to the floor. The thump of it hitting the dirt was the only sound besides your heaving breaths and the rustle of leaves.

You guided Rafa's other hand to your throat, "You're too much of a pussy to fuck me so might as well kill me now and get it over with."

Pulling him even closer by his biceps as his hands wrapped around your throat, you rocked your hips against his, feeling his rage fueled hard on. His eyes flicked down to your lips then met your gaze. "Fucking bitch."

Rafa's whisper was lost as his lips crashed against yours. He caged you up against the plant as he bit and licked and sucked his way to your bra. He shoved it aside and suckled hard on your nipple, nipping at it as his hand undid your jeans. You were impatient. The high and turmoil had turned you on and left your panties wet. As much as you would have loved to make him kneel and eat your cunt you wanted to be filled.

You pushed him off and turned, pushing your jeans to your knees and bending over slightly. Rafa was ready behind you, the sound of his buckle being undone and his pants being pushed down was followed by the feel of him thrusting his cock into your wet pussy. You gasped at the sensation. Fuck he was bigger than you thought.

The tan man fisted your hair and pulled you back against his chest, while the other held your hip. He let out a litany of curses as he fucked you mercilessly. When he bit down on you throat you couldn't help but cry out loudly, clenching down on his cock. Your orgasm hit you like a train and sent you spasming. If he hadn't been holding you up so he could continue fucking you, your legs would have given out.

He lasted awhile longer and you taunted him the whole time. "That's right, pendejo. You may hate me but you like fucking me more don't you."

You reached back and turned, pulling his lips to yours. "Come on, Quintero, fuck me like you want me dead."

You were only able to kiss him for a moment before he pushed you to bend forward, your head in the plant, smelling strongly of weed, as he pounded into you. He held your shoulders as he thrust deep and hard. The angle and the sound of him panting, telling you that you were a bitch but you had a good pussy, sent you over the edge again. With another few thrusts Rafa filled you. When he pulled out you only took a moment to catch your breath before shrugging out of his hold. You dressed without looking at him or speaking a word then walked away.

You shook your head, bringing yourself back to the present. The music was loud and Amado was behind you, holding you too close. Your skin was just beginning to crawl when Rafa appeared before you. Without a word, Rafa wrapped his hand around your wrist and pulled you to stand behind him.

Amado laughed and raised his hands in a gesture of appeasement, "I was just having fun man. She didn't seem to mind."

Rafa growled, "Walk away."

Amado glanced at Rafa's hand that was wrapped around his gun, then nodded and made his way to another part of the dance floor.

"You're so jealous. It's like how you say you love me without saying it." You poked fun at the Narco who still had a firm grip on your wrist. Feeling good from the drinks and weed you impulsively pressed your body up against his side and hugged his arm between your bodies.

Rafa looked down at you, expression unreadable. "I'll kill you."

You giggled and then pulled him along, "Then fuck me like you want me dead. You know that's how I like it best."

His lips upturned the slightest bit as you led him to the back of the club and up some stairs. You glanced around and paused at the door, looking over the balcony. "Where's the rich bitch?"

Rafa pushed you up the last step and pushed the door open around you, the warmth of him enveloping your bare back as he whispered in your ear, "I sent her to get drinks. It's the only way I could get away from that witch."

Rafa pushed you gently into the room and kicked the door closed behind you. The floor to ceiling windows of the room were tinted so no one could see inside, but you could see the bustling party down below. It was invigorating knowing how close you were to so many people. Rafa was right behind you, his presence sending a pleasing shiver down your spine. You felt his strong arms wrap around your waist as he started kissing your neck, biting down on the sensitive flesh. You felt his hips moving against your own as he guided you to the couch and then threw you on to it.

His jeans were tented noticeably and you hated how damn good he looked. Menacing and sensual while he took off his shirt and unbuckled his pants. He set his gun down on the coffee table as he knelt down over you. "It's annoying how horny I've been since you came in looking like this. Who knew you could look so fuckable?"

Rafa's hands travelled down your body. First pushing your hair out of the way and over your shoulder. His dark hand gripped your jaw to kiss you slowly and with tongue. Then he held you down by your neck with one hand while the other travelled down the deep v of your dress. His finger tips gliding down your sternum between your breasts. Before he pushed the fabric aside and exposed them to the cool air of the private room. He intentionally pinched your nipples hard before finding the short hem of your dress and pushing it up to your waist.

"Easy access, I thought it would be convenient," You moaned out, as he fondled your bare pussy, not a string of an undergarment in sight.

"Consider this your birthday present," Rafa whispered as he teased your clit. His lips found yours for a moment before he kissed down your neck, chest, belly, then knelt down and made a home between your thighs.

Your fingers immediately gripped his thick curls as his tongue glided through your wetness. You had thought he would fuck you quickly like all the other times but this was different, he was savoring it, savoring you. His tongue delved into your weeping hole and you cried out. Your nerve endings were exploding with pleasure. His grip on your thighs was so hard it was almost painful but you didn't doubt that the way you yanked at his hair was equally as uncomfortable.

You relinquished your tight grip on his hair to sit up and look down at him. His deep dark eyes looking up at you from between your legs, his curls bouncing slightly, and his nose bumping against your clit all while he tongue fucked you was more than you could bare. You came hard, moaning his name like he owned you just as the door burst open.

"Rafa!" Sofia was standing at the doorway, a drink in each hand, and a shocked expression on her face. You didn't care to react, still coming down from your orgasmic high. You turned your head to her direction while Rafa sat back on his heels.

"Put the drinks on the table and leave," Rafa barked at her.

Sofia looked like she might cry but also like she could kill him. She hesitated, making Rafa pick up his gun and point it at her. As he did so he pushed two fingers into your wet cunt making you gasp in surprise and pleasure. "You're interrupting her birthday present. So leave the drinks and get the fuck out of my sight. And don't you dare think about throwing them at her or I'll kill you where you stand, you arrogant bitch."

Sofia stomped forward and deposited the drinks on the table, making them spill slightly with the force at which she slammed them down. Rafa watched her turn and head for the door, all while fingering you and teasing your clit with his other hand. He called after her, "Close the door."

As soon as the door was latched, the narco grabbed one shot and threw it back. He took the other, taking it into his mouth and not swallowing. Rafa hovered over you, still working your pussy with one hand as he kissed your lips and fed you the shot with his mouth. The way he was consuming you, the way he had so viciously gotten rid of Sophia, and even the way he had gotten rid of Amado was overwhelming you. You needed his cock inside of you.

You pulled away from the kiss, breathy and moaning as his fingers played with you, "Gimme your cock, Rafa. I want the rest of my present."

"Fuck you like I want you dead, right?" Rafa grinned deviously. He latched his lips around one of your nipples, making you arch up against him. You heard his boots fall to the ground followed by his jeans. He sat up and swiftly pulled off your strappy heels. You couldn't help but admire his strong torso, tan skin, and his hard cock that he fisted in his hands.

The sight of his swollen tip and the dripping precum made you eager. Sitting up you simultaneously pushed him to sit back on the couch and threw your leg over his lap. Without a moment of hesitation you impaled yourself on his hard cock making the both of you groan in pleasure. Wasting no time you started to ride him, fingers threaded through his hair for leverage. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your rocking as the sounds of your fucking filled the room. The sounds of the club were muffled but the bass of the music was pounding in the walls.

You melted into the sensations. The feel of skin on skin. The wet slap of your hips slamming into his. The depth at which his cock delved inside of you. You captured his lips in a sloppy kiss before he took a turn to suck a mark into your neck, then the tops of your breasts. Your dress was crumpled at your waist, forgotten and useless.

Your orgasm came in a heavy wave of pleasure that had your hips stuttering. But Rafa held you close and rammed his hips upward, fucking you through your peak. He didn't stop when your spasming and clenching ceased. Instead he turned you down onto the couch, your sensitive nipples rubbing up against the fabric as he got on top of you. You bit the couch cushion preparing yourself for when he would stop running his fingers down your back, and cease his kisses on your shoulders. He guided his tip back to your pussy, his chest pressed against your back. Rafa thrust into your pussy from behind, his arms bracing himself above you.

He let out a laugh as he held your hip and then fisted your hair, nipping at your ear he whispered, "You're such a good little bitch when you want to be. Look at you taking me like the whore that you are. Loving it."

You chuckled between moans, turning your head so he could hear you, "Don't pretend you don't love how my pussy feels wrapped around you. Cum for me, Rafa. You said this was your present to me."

His pace quickened, making you cry out as you came again. But Rafa roared as he thrusted hard and deep three more times, spilling inside of you. He stilled, heaving breaths filling the room as he came down. He pulled out and flipped you over gently. Rafa pushed your hair off your sweaty forehead and kissed your cheek. He glanced down as he dipped his fingers between your legs. "You look your best with my cum dripping out of you."

You mewled as he glided a finger into your mess of a cunt and then pulled it out. Rafa brought it to your lips and you obediently took his finger into your mouth and licked it clean. He surprised you by kissing you deeply, tongues dancing against each other as your juices mingled.

When he finally broke the kiss, he pulled you half way on top of him, your leg draped over his and your head on his shoulder. Rafa sighed as you slowly succumb to post coital exhaustion. The tender kiss on your forehead surprised you. The last thing you heard before falling asleep was a soft whisper of "Happy Birthday, preciosa."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well that took a life of it's own.

Read, Review, Reply, and Reblog my friends.

[shmaltato]

"Hey There"

A simple Rafa/June piece and I shall dub this as cartel/high school delinquent #Nashuri AU.

I really liked drawing these simpler clothes than Namor's neckpiece and Shuri's suit. Haha. Shows how much I've been drawing them, but I still like to draw them.

[affairsmastery]

Mexican cartel leaders, including Rafael Caro Quintero, faced U.S. justice on Friday, with some risking the death penalty. Caro Quintero, labeled "one of the most evil cartel bosses", was arraigned in New York for drug trafficking and the brutal murder of DEA agent Kiki Camarena.

His extradition follows Mexico’s biggest criminal handover in years, pressured by U.S. demands to curb fentanyl and illegal migration. While some call the transfers illegal, prosecutors argue Caro Quintero’s reign of terror justifies swift justice. As cartel power shifts, the trial of this Narcos Mexico villain marks a defining moment in U.S.-Mexico crime relations.

[black-pussy-supreme]

The Best fucking hair in Mexico!

[tenoch-hq]

Tenoch Huerta Mejía as Rafael Caro Quintero in NARCOS: MEXICO | 01 x 02 - The Plaza System

[beyourself-marvellover]

Ella Baila Sola ~ Rafa x Fem Reader

Notas: +18 - Rafa (Narcos México) x Fem Reader. En Español. - Inspirado en la canción: 'Ella Baila Sola' (Eslabón Armado x Peso Pluma)

Resumen: En la noche de tu cumpleaños, una salida de amigos, una simple celebración, termina con un encuentro muy candente.

La noche es perfecta para salir y distraerme un poco. Además, hoy hay un motivo para celebrar: mi cumpleaños.

Mis amigos y yo acordamos que ellos pasarían por mí, asegurándole a mis padres que voy a estar bien y, así como salí de casa, ellos se asegurarán de que regrese.

Retoco mi maquillaje y ya está. Me siento en la sala a esperar que vengan por mí. Cinco minutos después, suena el timbre.

Mis amigos y yo salimos luego de conversar un poco con mis padres. Aunque ya tenga 21 años, ellos aún me ven como una niña de seis y ahora que la inseguridad en el país se ha expandido, su preocupación es aún más latente.

Sin embargo, he ido demostrándoles que soy responsable y que también puedo cuidar de mí. Con mis amigos acordamos que entre todos nos cuidamos y más cuando salimos de noche.

Una media hora después llegamos a la discoteca, es un ambiente agradable. La música es buena, las personas se divierten.

Escogemos una mesa y ordenamos las bebidas. Nos sentamos un rato a conversar, recibo un regalo de parte de ellos. Es un pequeño joyero aterciopelado, de color negro. Al abrirlo, veo una manilla de plata con el dije de la letra inicial de mi nombre.

Sonrió y le agradezco a cada uno por el gesto. Significa mucho para mí. Ellos me dicen que me la ponga de una vez, insisten. Me la coloco en mi muñeca izquierda. Es muy bonita.

En ese instante llegan los tragos. Tomo un sorbo de mi cerveza mientras veo a las demás personas bailar, reír, conversar. Vuelvo a tomar otros sorbos, una de mis amigas toma mi mano y me invita a bailar. Los demás aún están muy concentrados en sus tragos. Así que las dos empezamos a movernos al ritmo de la música.

Es liberador, si bien no bailo mucho, esto era lo que necesitaba para bajar la tensión de las últimas semanas de clase. Bailamos un par de canciones más, cuando me doy cuenta, mi amiga está coqueteando con un chico de la mesa de al lado, bueno, yo sigo bailando sola.

Mis otros amigos bailan en pareja, al parecer, soy la única que aún no tiene novio o novia o algún pretendiente que se aviente a coquetearme.

Un par de minutos después me doy cuenta que a la distancia hay un hombre observándome. Al hacer contacto visual él sonríe, se levanta y camina hacia mí.

Yo lo ignoro y sigo en mi mundo. Cuando vuelvo abrir mis ojos lo veo en frente de mí, sonríe y proyecta una seguridad en sí mismo que inquieta. Su rostro se me hace familiar, sé que lo he visto en alguna parte pero no logro recordarlo.

- ¿Quieres bailar? - Me pregunta mientras me ofrece su mano.

- No, gracias. Yo bailo sola. - Le contesto.

- Insisto. Baila conmigo.

- ¿Y si no acepto?

- Me voy y ya. Te dejo.

Me quedo mirándolo por unos segundos. Sigue sonriendo y debo admitir que es cautivador. Sus ojos miran los míos. Me sonrojo.

- Tengo sed. Lo siento, primero quiero tomarle un descanso. Me aparto y pido un vaso de agua.

Él no quiere darse por vencido. Nos apoyamos cerca de una barra mientras esperamos a que traigan mi agua.

- ¿Nos hemos visto antes? - Pregunto.

- Sí, en tu escuela.

Mierda, claro que sí. Un día interrumpió una clase y sin más, se llevó a mi profesor.

- Fuiste el que se llevó a mi profesor.

- Me lo llevé pero lo devolví vivito y coleando y con un buen varo.

Al oír la revelación completa, no sabía si huir o quedarme hablando con él. Solo me disculpé y me fui al baño a limpiarme la cara.

Cuando salgo, él está esperándome.

- ¿Estás bien?

- Sí... Sí... ¿Rafael, verdad? - Pregunto.

- Dime Rafa.

- Sí... Claro, Rafa. - Nunca me dijo su nombre, pero fui recordando aquella vez en que irrumpió en la clase. Uno de los tipos que venían con él le gritó por su nombre y sin más, llevaron al profesor.

- Suena más chingón. - Responde.

Ambos volvemos hacia la barra. Trato de tener contacto visual con mis amigos, ellos solo sonríen al ver que encontré alguien.

El bartender me pasa el vaso de agua y yo bebo como si mi vida dependiera de ello. Al terminar, pido otro vaso.

Rafa observa mi mano izquierda, atraído por la manilla que me obsequiaron mis amigos.

- Está bien pinche hermosa.

- ¿Mi manilla?

- Simón, aunque la dueña está más bonita. - Guiñe.

- Ah, muchas gracias. - Sonrío.

- ¿Bailamos?

¿Qué malo hay en bailar con un tipo que secuestró a mi profesor? Ese día nos salvó del examen. No es un héroe, tampoco un villano. Y lo que pasó en la escuela se queda en la escuela. No estoy para dramas estudiantiles ni nada por el estilo.

Tomo su mano y él me acerca más a su cuerpo, me toma de la cintura y empezamos a movernos al ritmo de una cumbia.

No deja de mirarme ni por un segundo, sus ojos son tan oscuros, transmiten intensidad, me hace sentir vulnerable pero poderosa. Ver que un hombre me observa con tanta atención es increíblemente misterioso pero actractivo.

Seguimos así por un par de minutos más hasta que la rola acaba.

- Eres muy bueno bailando. - Le digo.

- Tú también. Lo haces bien.

- Claro... Crecí en una familia de bailarines y artistas. Tenía que aprender.

Él vuelve a tomarme de la cintura y bruscamente, me acerca hacia su cuerpo. Siento que la adrenalina se me sube a la cabeza y sin tanto pensarlo lo beso.

Mis manos toman su mentón y profundizo aún más el beso. El olor a tequila y cigarrillo que desprende de él no me incómoda, al contrario, resulta excitante.

Cuando nos apartamos para recuperar el aliento, él sonríe, sus manos no dejan de agarrar mi cintura.

- ¿No lo viste venir, verdad? - Le digo con picardía.

- Caray, me saliste bien brava. - Responde mientras ríe.

- Nunca subestimes a una mujer y mucho menos, a una mujer joven. - Lamo una de sus mejillas y luego su cuello. Siento como algo de su pantalón se levanta.

- Mira lo que me haces. - Se ríe, otra vez.

- No me disculpo por eso. Arréglatelas tú solo. - Tomo el vaso de agua y me voy a la mesa de mis amigos.

Cuando llego me felicitan, no solo por mi cumpleaños, sino por lo que vieron.

- ¿Pensaban que iba a llegar a los 21 sin ligarme a alguien? - Les pregunto.

- ¡Lo hiciste! ¡Nos llenas de orgullo! - Responde mi amiga la coqueta que me dejó hace unas horas bailando sola.

- Míralo, el pobre quedó con ganas de más. - Añade uno de mis amigos.

Yo solo suelto una risa.

- ¿Qué le hiciste? Deberías ir a ver cómo está. - Me insiste mi amiga.

- Ya es tarde. Quiero irme a casa.

- Díselo a tu amigo que viene para acá. - Me responde ella.

- Déjame ver como lo arreglo. - Contesto.

- Creo que tienes que ayudarme con... Con esto... - Su cuerpo se pega al mío y siento que su miembro aún sigue duro. Mi entrepierna empieza a jugarme una mala pasada, voy sintiendo como el cuerpo me tiembla.

- Lo siento, creo que tendrás que ayudarte tu solo. Tienes dos manos.

- Qué fierecilla... Pero mis manos no me servirán si hago esto... - Sus manos empiezan a subirme la falda.

Ayyy, no, aquí no.

Luego va recorriendo mi entrepierna...

- ¿Qué estás haciendo? - Le digo.

- Te la estoy devolviendo.

Siento que la razón me empieza a fallar. El calor va encendiéndose más y más.

Su boca se entrelaza con la mía, su lengua empieza a jugar con la mía y la intensidad de sus caricias aumenta.

Empiezo a jadear.

- ¿Ahora qué? ¿Crees que tus manos te pueden ayudar? - Me susurra. - Su voz cosquillea en mi oído, su respiración eriza mi piel.

- ¡Ayy, Rafa!

- Música para mis oídos.

- Aquí no es un buen lugar.

- Lo sé.

En ese momento deja de acariciarme, me agarra de la mano y salimos hacia un estacionamiento.

Me apoya sobre una camioneta lujosa y empieza a besarme, dejando mordidas por mi cuello, sus manos van desabotonando mi blusa y su lengua lame mis clavículas.

Mi respiración se va acelerando y la tensión del momento es aún más fuerte. Él se detiene y,

torpemente, saca un juego de llaves de un bolsillo de su pantalón.

Abre la puerta, se sienta en la silla del copiloto y luego me ayuda a subir. Me siento sobre sus piernas y con un golpe seco cierro la puerta.

Me toma de la cara y su boca se acerca a la mía, es un beso lleno de furia, de deseo, de hambre. Sus manos terminan de desabotonar mi blusa y luego me quita el sostén.

Mi pecho está a su voluntad. Succiona, lame, muerde. Todo a mi alrededor me da vueltas, el placer va aumentando.

- Rafa...

- Cómo suena de bonito mi nombre saliendo de tu boca, mi fierecilla.

Él va subiendo mi falda y como puede, mueve mi panty a un lado. Yo desabrocho el cinturón de su pantalón y lo desabotono. Bajo la bragueta.

Él me detiene en ese momento y vuelve a besarme. Siento que todo el calor del momento recorre mis venas, lo deseo tanto. Quiero sentirlo entrando y saliendo de mí. Quiero que me tome tan rápido y tan violentamente.

- Ayy Rafa...

- Eres una diablilla.

- Rafa... - Chillo.

Vuelve a besarme.

En ese momento voy sintiendo como él empieza a entrar y a salir, sus movimientos son salvajes. Me gusta. Yo empiezo a moverme, buscándolo más y más.

Empiezo a gemir, mientras que él me cubre la boca con una de sus manos.

- Aquí, no, mi fierecilla. Aquí no.

Eso solo hace que quiera gritar. Que quiera mostrarle al mundo que este hombre es casi que un dios. Que me tiene a sus pies y que me está haciendo llegar al mismo cielo.

Seguimos con este tipo de danza. Su respiración roza la piel de mis senos y la sensación no puede ser más ferviente.

Poco a poco voy llegando al éxtasis. Cierro los ojos y me dejo abrasar por esa llama que él aviva con cada movimiento. Hasta que ambos explotamos y lo que era un incendio ahora es solo una brasa.

Nuestra respiración está agitada. Nuestras frentes se tocan y él vuelve a besarme. Esta vez, el beso es más delicado.

Poco a poco intentamos recuperar el aliento. Mi cuerpo descansa sobre el suyo. Siento como el corazón me late a mil por hora. Mi cuerpo es un saco de huesos que reposa sobre él. Sus manos toman mi espalda, mientras que sus pulgares dibujan pequeños círculos.

Nunca había sentido tanta pasión, peligro y ansiedad al hacerlo en un lugar público. No pensé llegar tan lejos esta noche.

- Feliz Cumpleaños, mi fierecilla. - Susurra.

[writers-vlogx]

Tenoch Huerta is so pretty I can't breathe

and my rafa too

I can't stop thinking about his girlfriend or his boyfriend trying to convince him to let them put some makeup on him.

"rafa,amor confia en mi te vas a ver aun mas guapo"

he would need a lot of conviction and later a lot of reaffirmation of what a man he is.

but let's say you accomplish your mission and he lets you apply some eye shadow and lip gloss on it (I'm down bad for men with glitter)

then you apply the same skin care and it's just that you relax while listening to music

Rafa, Rafa, Rafa

Okay, so I fully believe that it would be a struggle getting this man to let you even get anywhere near his face, much less let you put makeup on him. I'm sorry but I don't think there would be a moment when he would be willing to let you use makeup on him. At least not without some sort of bribe.

Listen he has an image to maintain and despite him having pretty good confidence in himself, these are the 80s and it's not exactly common to walk out and see a pretty man that didn't just get lucky to have the genes.

I really do think it would take some bribe for him to indulge you, even then don't expect him to go out in public like this. He loves you to death he really does, but please understand he's got a reputation to keep up and people to deal with.

However, I can see him letting you so some skin care and maybe maybe if your lucky a touch of lipstick but only if it's through your lips, what can I say? The man is a romantic.

Now after a while of doing this over time you may actually give him some confidence to wear it if it's a quick errand to run, and let me tell you. The man will absolutely learn his colors and shades, foundation and eyeshadow. So don't worry about him bringing home the wrong color, or confusing products, he likes to pay attention to the things you apply on him. He's got you covered.

I'll tell you right now, at night this man needs so much reassurance. He's scared and ashamed. This isn't what a man should be. This isn't what he should look like. Do you really think he looks pretty? Can you really consider him a man after this.

All of these questions are things that he asks and worries that you will need to ease with the softest voice and gentle hands. At night his insecurities really do get to him, and you have to lay down with him and gently stroke his hair while staring at him, at your man. Your beautiful strong man who looks even more beautiful and strong with makeup. Just as he is. Be patient with him this is all new to him and he really does like the way he looks but baby boy needs time.

Trust me that no one would say a thing, while he may be in the business you have as much power with outside connections as you need for people to keep their mouths shut.

Also, guys, I'm taking a break as you guys saw this was posted way after my date and tbh I'm not doing so well mentally. Hopefully, I'll be back randomly and if anything else be back by May. Sorry dudes, but comments and random talks will be easier than having to post on schedule.

@hausofmamadas @yoongskook