#amado/pacho

[purplesong1028]

When Love Gets Poisonous

Chapter 2: Only Way

Amado tries to explain his reasonings behind this crazy plan, but Pacho isn’t having any of it.

!Kidnapping !DubCon (later chapters)

Rating: General Audience

Paring: Amado/Pacho

Words: 2,153

It takes Amado about half an hour to tour around the island himself, letting the maid show him where everything is. He forgot how much he paid the architect and designers, but they certainly earned it. Everything that someone possibly needs, they can find it here: pool, theater, garden, a fucking library! It’s pretty small, but still that’s insane. Not to mention the chef, maids and the doctor who also lives on the property. Although now that he thinks about it, how can Pacho ever trust the same doctor who literally drugged him?

To anyone in the world, this island would be the perfect home in their wildest dreams, something they’ve only seen a few times in movies. But Pacho isn’t anyone, and that’s the biggest problem.

Now he’s back in the living room that’s right next to the master bedroom. He’s been sitting here for another half an hour, and still has zero idea what to do next. Should he just knock on the door? Will knocking make everything even weirder, more insulting in a way? Amado sighs, slowly shaking the glass of whiskey in his hand, listening to the brisk sound of ice cubes crashing into each other.

“Señor?” The maid, Louisa, calls him with a soft voice. “Lunch is ready. Where do you want us to serve it?”

That’s supposed to be the easiest question, but he’s struggling to come up with the best option. Maybe just in this living room, since it’s right outside of the master bedroom? Maybe he should just bring it into the bedroom? No, that’s literally how they do it in prison with people under solitary confinement. What was he thinking?!

Louisa stands next to the couch, waiting patiently amid his silence.

“Set it up outside on the beach.” He finally says. The weather is nice, and they could all use some fresh air.

“Si, Señor.” Louisa nods and walks away.

Amado takes a deep breath, finishes his whiskey, and then walks towards the bedroom.

The two guards dutifully turn to him as he approaches.

“Patrón.” One of them nods.

“Is anything going on?” Has he broken everything in the room yet?

“Nothing, just some water running earlier.”

Really? Now he’s actually surprised, but not pleasantly, because if Pacho isn’t letting out all that rage now, it only means he’s holding it inside and planning something more long term.

He walks past the guards and knocks on the door. Of course there’s no response, but there’s also no rejection. He reaches for the door handle, but one of the guards gently stops him.

They share a silent look, and the guard seems very determined, though still polite. Amado takes a step back and lets him. It’s a good sign that they’re taking their job seriously.

The door opens, and nothing happens, no one’s hiding around the corner to attack them. He expected such, because Pacho will never come up with that stupid of a plan, but both guards are visibly relieved.

He balls one of his hands into fist, trying to calm his nerves as he walks into the bedroom and closes the door behind him.

*

Pacho’s sitting on the couch, now changed into a new shirt, back facing him from this angle, and apparently has no intention to turn around. Amado slowly paces towards him, and when he gets closer, he sees Pacho’s holding something: also a glass of whiskey, maybe even the same kind as the one he just had.

Amado’s favorite liquor used to be tequila. The first good whiskey he tasted was a gift from Félix years ago, when La Federación was just getting started. It feels like another lifetime now. However, he didn’t even like that bottle back then. He knew it was some expensive shit and he should appreciate the friendly gesture, but he really thought it tasted awful, and there was nothing he could do about that.

Then much later, it was Pacho who laughed at his poor taste, but also brought him another expensive whiskey that was actually smooth and rich, with just the right amount of burn, exactly how he liked it. Now whiskey is his favorite liquor too.

About one fourth of the bottle is already empty, and his heart is slowly filled with painful concern. “Isn’t it a bit early to get drunk?”

“Why does it matter?” Pacho finishes the last bit in his glass. “I’m already dead, right?”

He’s not sure if that’s some very dark humor, maybe not. He clears his throat and says the only thing that feels safe enough to say. “Do you want to eat something? Take a walk around, maybe?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

Amado has no intention to force him to do anything else against his will, but he has to eat something, right? “I mean, you must be hungry? It’s been over twelve hours.”

“Not really,” Pacho says blandly, and finally turns to look at him without a glimpse of warmth in his brown eyes, “maybe it has something to do with whatever drug you gave me.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. If you’re not feeling well I’ll have the doctor to come check on you.” Amado sighs, “but come on, let’s just take a walk. Don’t you want to go to the beach, see what the island’s like?”

Pacho stares him in a way that makes him feel extremely stupid, and at this point he just wants to bang his head on a wall, because he really is trying, but he can’t blame Pacho either. Would he have acted any better if their roles were reversed?

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way.” A crazy idea just comes to his mind out of nowhere. He knows it’s completely ridiculous, but he has to make sure. “But please, please don’t tell me you’re going to starve yourself.”

That actually gets a humorless laugh out of Pacho, more sarcastic than anything, but at least it’s something.

“Fine.” Pacho puts the glass down on the table, so hard that he’s amazed that it didn’t break. “If it gets you to leave me alone, let’s take a fucking walk.”

They walk out of the room and Amado immediately sees the same two guards again, and he signals them to follow loosely behind.

He made the rule that whichever guards are closely monitoring Pacho, they would not carry a gun, and that’s for two reasons. One, obviously, to prevent the possibility that someone ends up shooting Pacho. But more importantly, this is the more secure approach, because Pacho is just one person, and without weapons it’s impossible for him to win a fight over half a dozen guards at the same time, if there’s ever a conflict. However, if the guards all carry guns, all it takes is for one of them to make a mistake, and Pacho can take the gun from him, and then it becomes way more dangerous for everyone.

He leads Pacho through the mansion, and tries to remain cheerful and show the positive side of things: the huge swimming pool, the impressionist paintings, the golf court… all the luxury that he knows Pacho likes, yet the other man gives him no reaction other than silence.

*

Finally they reach the white sand beach. It’s early afternoon and the sunlight is so bright that it hurts his eyes. Amado takes his sunglasses from the collar of his T-shirt, but as he’s wiping the lenses, he sees Pacho squinting.

“Um, do you want it?” He offers it a bit awkwardly. It just feels like he can’t fucking do anything right today. Pacho just gives him a dismissive wave, so they keep walking along the beach chairs.

Thankfully there is a large umbrella over the table where their lunch is set up. It’s fresh sushi and sashimi, beautifully displayed on wooden boards and ice, along with a bottle of sake, not that either of them needs more alcohol. They even put some flowers on the table. Whoever came up with that idea likely meant well, but he doesn’t know what the fuck they were thinking.

“It’s pretty nice, yeah?” God, this feels worse than making small talk with someone he just met. “You like Japanese food.”

Pacho sits down across from him, but doesn’t reach for the chopsticks.

About two years ago, they had this pointless conversation where they both insisted how the other person used chopsticks was wrong. It was such a stupid argument but neither of them were willing to back down, so eventually they had to ask the sushi chef to be their referee. Amado still vividly remembers the poor chef’s mortified face when he told them they were both doing it wrong. He never even learned that chef’s name, but sometimes he still saludes the man’s honesty and courage.

Amado takes his pair of chopsticks and picks up a piece of tuna sushi with caviar on top, and puts it on Pacho’s plate. “Come on, just try one?”

Pacho holds his gaze for a little while before finally picking up his own pair of chopsticks, and puts a piece of raw tuna on Amado’s plate. “You can try it first.”

“What,” he laughs at the pure ridiculousness, “you think I’m gonna poison you with sushi?!”

“Can’t put it past you, for obvious reasons.”

He rolls his eyes before he can stop himself, but Pacho’s watching him intensely, dead serious.

“Fine, for your peace of mind.” He picks up the tuna but it slips between his chopsticks— probably because he’s still holding them wrong, but no one’s teasing and laughing at him anymore. He does it again with more force, almost sticking one chopstick into the small piece of meat, definitely not a graceful motion. To make it even worse, once the tuna is in his mouth, he realizes he didn’t dip it in any condiment. No soy sauce, no wasabi, just a piece of plain raw tuna.

Amado holds his breath and swallows it. It’s not poisoned, just fucking disgusting.

Pacho’s face softens a little, and Amado’s not sure if he’s amused by the awkward scene or relaxed because the food is safe. Either way, they can finally start eating, and it’s only when the food actually hits his stomach, he realizes how starving he’s been, but he just didn’t feel anything earlier because of all the stress and worry.

They eat in silence for quite a while, because Pacho doesn’t want to say one word more than necessary to him, and he has a thousand words to say but doesn’t know where to start. When the plates are nearly empty, he knows this is his last chance.

“I meant it earlier, you know.” Amado puts his fingers around his glass of water. He’s not thirsty, but just wants to feel the coolness against his skin. “You don’t have to stay in that room. You can do anything on the island.”

Pacho doesn’t respond directly, and looks into the distance where a long runway lies on the edge of this small island. “That’s the only way out, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Even the simple admission brings a sharp sting to his chest. “But it’s not… It wasn’t because of you. I built this place for myself, like a final safe house, the last resort kind of thing.”

“The last resort?” Pacho scoffs, and it seems like he’s about to say more, but he doesn’t.

He also doesn’t need to, because Amado knows him too well to not understand the real question underneath. Is this also a last resort for you? Can you really not find another way, a better way?

“I had to keep my supply coming, but I would never hurt you.” He opens the bottle of sake and pours himself a generous glass. “This was the only way I could think of.”

Pacho yanks the bottle out of his hand, colorless alcohol spilling on the white tablecloth. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

He opens his mouth to object, but Pacho doesn’t give him a chance to.

“You could have told me. I’d have helped you to get your supply.” Pacho takes a swig straight from the bottle. “But then you wouldn’t be the one in control of everything.”

“Look, I know why you think that way…”

Pacho puts down the bottle with a loud clatter. “Because I’m right, and you fucking know it. You did it for you, and that’s fine. That’s the business, right?”

Pacho stands up and drops the napkin on the table, somehow still gracefully despite all the aggressiveness.

“Just own up to it.”

The Colombian walks away from him and back towards the mansion. On the other side of the island, a large shadow of the building looms over the golf court, dimming the fresh green grass with a darker shade.

It grows larger every hour until the sun sets, darkness falls, and paradise becomes inescapable.

Tag list: @ashlingiswriting @yourlocalspacewitxch @narcolini @mandaloria314 @drabbles-mc @cherixrosa @cositapreciosa @criatividad-e @sikkui @artemiseamoon @alreadywritten @dashavau @naeviaanoai @anunhealthydoseofangst (let me know if you want to be added or taken off the tag list of this story.)

#narcos #narcos mexico #narcos fanfic #narcos mexico fanfic #pacho herrera #pacho herrera fanfic #pacho x amado #amado/pacho #amado carrillo fuentes

[hausofmamadas]

SE LA ARRANCA A MORDIDAS | mystery of Amado's anonymous lady-hustlers, solved

⁂

Holy father who art in heaven, do I have some fucking cracked ass head-canon nonsense for us to👏🏽 day👏🏽 …………….. let’s get to it shall we??

so idk if anyone anyone being the largely nonexistent narcos fandom aka the void Im speaking into remembers that one scene from Narcos in S3 where sleazy!OG!Amado told that one story about those sex workers who robbed him blind, mid-mamadita?

anyone ..... no?

dwdwdw that's okay bc I brought some visual aids to assist in our collective remembrance of this glorious occasion

⁂

The scene starts like this: 👇

Okay, yeah, right? legendary? legendary. just truly legendary behavior skfjskj on all fronts. but the identities of these social justice warriors— no wait activists— no wait, crusad— er no, patriarchy demolishers? iconic crimies with a penchant for for mid-fellatic felonies like armed robbery have been completely anonymous thus far.

…………… until now.

Bc as always, Narcoverse papis Doug Miro, Andrés Baiz, and Carlo Bernard, never fail to fill in the blanks except when they do cause Griselda left a lot to be desired and this is arguably the best ep of the show which, yeah. it’s never ideal when the best ep of a 6ep limited series is the 2nd one si me entiendes😬😬😬 but we digress because im 99.99999999999999% sure if these two sex workers from Griselda aren’t also the two legends who hustled Amado’s dick money out his pants pockets without having to fire so much as a single shot, I’m fairly certain they’re at least inspired by and carrying the torch aka bottling and distilling that Big Dick Energy to perfection of those brave women.

What gave me this idea? So glad you asked dear reader you didn’t but we’ll just pretend you did cause this my haus KEKW…. No like even I rolled my eyes at my own self for that but i couldn’t refrain either.

It all happened when I was nursing my new obsession with a one, Mr. Darío Sepúlveda a name I would most certainly believe to be fucking fake were he not an irl human bean.

👇👇 THIS slice of sweet, cherry pie right tf here

And I stumbled upon this one specific part, where the look on this chick’s face is SO FUCKINGKDHDHDGWVE SIMILAR to Amado’s face, when he’s explaining 👇👇👇👇👇👇👇how the burgling commences when the gurgling is interrupted by with an uncomfortable silence, as this chick proceeds to, hog still in mouth, cease any and all throat activity and fuckingskdfjskl just stare. up. at. him.

all 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

Like tell me homegirl’s face here👇👇 👇👇 doesn’t look just like it????????????

YOU CANTSJSHSJSHWUS YOU cANT. EVIDENCE IS IRREFUTABLE.

Anyway. Movingright along.

So, if aforementioned homegirl is the 🙇🏻‍♀️ from la historia del grande señor de los cielos, then that makes this ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️ ... homegirl’s accomplice

with the👇👇sidearm

and like the general only slightly subtle "I eat dicks like urs for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a midnight snack" vibes that this duo is serving throughout but esp below bc never will I ever not refer to a fuckboy as mancito from now until I'm in my grave alsdkjfa like MANCITO. THE WAY SHE SAYS IT WITH SUCH ALSKDJFKS CONTEMPT, CAN YOU STAND IT????? makes it so clear in my mind's eye how they could 100000000000%% be the unnamed heroes thieves from Amado's little story

also full 180 just on the low but can we all moment of silence for this 👇👇 FUCKINGSDLDFJ LOOK ON DARIO'S FACE WHEN SHE CORRECTS HIM, "quien te dijo eso? ... un mancito?" LIKE HE FUCKIGNSLDFKJSLKJ KNOWS, HE KNOWS HE HAS ERRED ON THIS PATH, HE KNOWS HE CANNOT PASS GO, CANNOT COLLECT 200 DOLLARS AND HE HAS THE GOOD SENSE TO BE GRACIOUS ABOUT IT AND IMAS;DFLIJA;LWEJF;KAJWE;FAKJ; SFUCKINGS DFKLJSLDF JA;K CRYING, SCREAMING, THROWING UP, INCONSOLABLE. LIKE LOOK. AT THIS. OKAY, THAT A MAN, NO MANCITO

*smacks own face, jiggles head back and forth, takes deep breath* anyway.... back to the story

and this is where this prob super unhinged really solidifies bc let's join hands class and pledge alliegance to the most impressive and noteworthy alpha but in the most non-cringe way assertion of dominance I have ever fucking witnessed in all my days. Like, legit the next time i'm into a dude the way i say this like it's not an 'if' bc RIP to my love life lbr fuck all that playing coy, fuck all that flirting. We just gonna get right to the point bc imma climb all over his lap, purr in his face, and ask about his hobbies like it's the 1978 equivalent of a Hinge profile SKSKKSK

and the next time I am spurned I will absolutely grab his junk in a naked hahahaksdjfk grab for a proper leash power to gain the upper hand in the situation and shame any and all menfolk who claim to not like me bc I'm not their 'type.' which like sksjsjsjs admittedly poor Dario just said that as a pretense to get the chisme from the chick who hates Grislenda bc the look of unconcealed regret on his face when Mistress Mamma Crotch Snatcher Morton gets up seems like a good indicator he would've paid to play with his balls

BUT LIKE SIDE BY SIDE WITH AMADO GETTING TO THE metaphorical CLIMAX bc I sincerely doubt they let him bust, mid-robbery OF HIS STORY, CAN WE NOT SEE HOW CLEARLY THESE TWO WOMEN WERE THE ONES WHO JACKED AMADO OFF– NO WAIT THEY DECIDEDLY DID NOT DO THAT ALL OF AMADO’S SHIT, LIKE CAUGHT PAPI WITH HIS ACTUAL PANTS DOWN SKSJSB

and lest any of us were convinced that Lady "Hijueputa Mandona Esa" who hates Griselda wasn't the one holding the gun on Toque, telling Amado she's gonna have her friend chew clear through his disco stick like some froot by the foot, please refer to exhibit B here ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️where she's manspreading for jesus in these fucking hot pants. I mean try to tell me that ain't power. c'mon

AND THEN THE WAY SHE FUCKINGSLDFKJSL HUSTLES DARIO FOR EXTRA CASH, ALL "you gotta pay me more than that pittance bc yeah, she were a mouthy bitch but I didn't hate her that bad" ensuring he had no choice but to leave a tip, just like our pobre mujeriego, himbo extraordinaire, Sleazy!OG!Amado

And if this isn't the most iconic reminder to tip your servers, folks which everyone should be doing already I truly don't know what is.

═

taglist: @ashlingnarcos @tofuwildcard @narcolini @drabbles-mc

#narcos #griselda #amado carrillo fuentes #dario sepulveda #pacho herrera #two unnamed FUCKIN HEROES #griselda netflix #narcos netflix #netflix narcos #no forreal I tried to IMDb the names of their characters #and neither of them have ACTUAL NAMES #the flagrant disrespect #ain’t no justice for these flop house warriors I mean #respect your sex workers guys #griselda blanco #original gifs #my gifs

[sarahlovessummer]

-I just watch narcos for the plot

The plot:

#queen of the south #el padrino #el señor de los anillos #isabella bautista #ramon arellano felix #amado carrillo fuentes #narcos #pacho herrera #miguel angel felix gallardo #narcos mexico #javier peña

[pachoherrerastoy]

Alberto Ammann behind the scenes of Narcos : Mexico and Narcos 😩

#pacho herrera #narcos #alberto ammann #narcos mexico #narcos: mexico #narcos netflix #amado carrillo fuentes #behind the scenes #netflix

[drabbles-mc]

Perfectly Available

Amado Carrillo Fuentes x Pacho Herrera

Warnings: 18+, language, implied smut

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: I wrote this for my Yuletide assignment and completely forgot to cross-post it here! Enjoy! xo

Narcos Taglist: @garbinge @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @boomclapxox @nessamc @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @narcolini @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa @il0vebeingdelulu (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

There only should have been one thing on Amado’s mind in that moment. All the luxury and privacy that money could buy them, silk sheets wrinkled and ruined, clutched tightly in Pacho’s fists, duvet long since kicked to the far edge of the bed by Amado when they first got started. There was no world outside the four walls of the bedroom that they were in.

Or, that’s how it should have felt for Amado. His singular focus and every thought that went through his mind should have been about the man lying on the mattress beneath him. There were people who would’ve given just about anything to be in the position that Amado was in, after all—alone in a room with Pacho reducing him to a mess in the center of a king-size bed.

In his defense, that was how it felt for Amado the first few times. The disbelief hadn’t worn off yet, the pleasure still enough to blind him to everything else. It made him forget about all of it, the business, the mess it all entailed. It made him forget about Miguel, too, which had been the point of it all to begin with even if Amado would never admit to it out loud.

He couldn’t remember when it stopped working. He couldn’t recall how long it took for it to not be enough anymore, for Miguel to weasel back into his thoughts at the most inconvenient times, the way that he always seemed to do. Not that there was really a good time for that—there was never a good time to find himself wrapped up in thoughts and feelings for someone that would never truly be available to him in the way that he wanted. Pacho wasn’t really available to him in that way either, but that wasn’t Amado’s desired endgame with Pacho, not the way that it would have been with Miguel.

Pacho was available to Amado the exact amount that Amado needed from him. He was there, skin beneath the pads of Amado’s fingers, heat bleeding from one into the other, ragged breaths and moans drowning out any other noise. Pacho was perfectly available to Amado for exactly what he needed. Or rather, perfect was the right word for it when Pacho was still providing enough of a distraction. Maybe it wasn’t really Pacho’s fault, though.

Amado pried himself apart from Pacho, landing beside him on the bed as they each tried to catch their breaths. Amado’s eyes were shut, forearm draped across his forehead and covering most of his face as his chest rose and fell dramatically.

With his eyes closed he couldn’t see the smirk that was on Pacho’s face. He couldn’t see the way that the man turned his head to look over at him. Pacho had a slightly dazed, almost blissful look on his face. Not lovestruck, but extremely content nonetheless, even when he could see that despite everything Amado still had lingering tension in his body.

“What?” Pacho asked, his tone light, ends of his mouth still upturned.

“Hm?” Amado mumbled back, eyes remaining closed.

“What are you thinking?” He almost sounded like he was on the brink of laughter.

“Nothing.”

That response got a chuckle out of him. Amado didn’t open his eyes yet, but he could feel the way that Pacho was beginning to shift around on the bed. He pulled the thin sheet up to his waist and covered Amado in the process before leaning over to the nightstand, grabbing a cigarette and his lighter.

“You’re worse at lying when you’re like this,” Pacho said, the words slightly mumbled as he spoke them around the cigarette in his mouth.

Amado only opened his eyes and looked at the man beside him when he heard the clicking of the lighter. “Worse?”

Pacho didn’t answer until he had pulled a drag off his cigarette. “You were never that good to begin with,” he spoke with a smile, smoke creeping out in tendrils as he did, “but you’re worse when you’re like this.”

Amado scoffed, but the comment didn’t get to him. He was too tired to be offended and realistically Pacho was right and he didn’t want to get into an argument he was destined to lose. Instead, he reached over and took the cigarette rom Pacho and brought it to his own lips, hoping it would divert the entire conversation.

Pacho wasn’t distracted so easily. “So?”

Amado purposely didn’t look at him as he repeated the word back, doing his best to match Pacho’s tone. “So?”

Pacho smiled, tucking his hand behind his head as he studied Amado’s face. “What are you thinking?”

Amado took another drag before holding the cigarette back out to Pacho. He shook his head as the other man took it from him. He let out a sigh, releasing all the smoke at once in the process. “Doesn’t matter.”

Pacho let out a hum of amusement before he reached over and tapped the ash off the cigarette into the ashtray.

The sound got Amado’s attention, his eyes locked onto Pacho. “What’s that?”

Pacho looked as smug as he ever had. “What?”

“You know what.”

He took another drag from his cigarette, not that it kept him from laughing. “That was a better than a lie, at least.”

“Pfft,” Amado scoffed as he shook his head. He went back to staring at the ceiling as he listened to Pacho chuckling to himself. If it had been anyone else doing that, it would’ve been insulting at best, especially given the circumstances that the two of them were in. But there was something about Pacho that made it hard to get mad over things like that. He never made it feel malicious even when he was giving Amado a hard time.

“He doesn’t know,” Pacho said.

“What?”

“Miguel. He doesn’t know,” he repeated, shaking his head for emphasis before snubbing out his cigarette.

“About…” Amado trailed off, making the smallest gesture between them.

Pacho laughed. “He definitely doesn’t know about that.”

“Will you just say it?” Amado said, exasperated in regards to just about everything.

“You know,” Pacho responded simply.

“I don’t—”

Pacho cut him short as he got out of bed, beginning the task of find his clothes that were scattered across the room and redressing as he went. “I know. And I know it’s why we’re here. It’s why we do this.” He pulled on his underwear, then his slacks. “But he doesn’t know.”

Amado’s brows knit together for a moment. Despite the vague allusions, he knew exactly what Pacho was saying. He just didn’t know that Pacho was so aware of it all. Amado never said anything about it, tried to make a point to never have to bring any of it up.

“How did you—”

“You’re a bad liar, Amado,” Pacho repeated with a smile as he slipped his shirt on over his shoulders and began to fasten the buttons.

That got a weak smile out of Amado. “Hm.”

“I don’t know how much it would matter if he did, though,” Pacho tacked on, backtracking to his earlier statement.

The small smile immediately dropped from Amado’s face as he repeated himself. “Hm.” He paused, taking a moment to really look at Pacho. “I…”

Pacho hadn’t really thought that Amado was one for guilt, but for a moment that’s exactly what he saw crossing the man’s face. For some reason that was just as amusing as the rest of it. Guilt didn’t suit Amado the same way that Pacho wasn’t suited for placating, and Pacho never did things that didn’t suit him.

Rather than feed into the guilt that Amado was feeling, Pacho simply leaned over, left a fleeting touch across Amado’s shoulder and said, “Until next time?”

Amado looked at him, the smirk playing at Pacho’s lips something that would be burned into his brain in its own rite. He nodded. “Next time.”

Neither of them said anything more as Amado watched Pacho put on his shoes and grab his jacket before heading out the door. Once the door clicked shut behind him, Amado fell flat on his back on the mattress again, staring up at the ceiling. Once a few seconds of silence passed, he let out one quiet chuckle, smiling and shaking his head at himself more than anything else.

#narcos #narcos netflix #narcos fanfiction #narcos netflix fanfiction #amado carrillo fuentes #pacho herrera #amado carrillo fuentes x pacho herrera #pacho herrera x amado carrillo fuentes #pacho herrera fanfiction #amado carrillo fuentes fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[proceduralpassion]

Narcos Incorrect Quotes

Day 11 of Narcoctober- Create a non-visual, non-fic fanwork: quiz, game, playlist, incorrect quotes.

[at Horacio's funeral] Javi: places his hand on the headstone and sobs Javi: How could you do this to me? We are so understaffed. Javi: On a scale from “damn Daniel” to “fre sha vaca do” how are you guys feeling? Trujillo: I’m in between “it’s an avocado, thanks” and “how did you defeat captain america” but as a solid answer I would say “I don’t need a degree to be a clothing hanger.” Murphy: Probably “road work ahead.” Carrillo: I speak multiple languages and this is none of them. Felix: You know, guys are kind of scared to talk to y– Maria: Good. Connie: Thanks to Steve, Olivia has taken up swearing. Connie: Yesterday, she referred to bedtime as a ‘fucking crisis.’ Pacho: I’m not interested in being polite or heterosexual Javier: I think you made them anxious. Steve: Oh yeah? Well that’s because they’re all a bunch of bitch ass white boys. Javier: I hate to break it to you, but you’re also a bitch ass white boy.

Maria: The term girlfriend implies the existence of of a girlfoe. This is a service I am willing to provide.

Rafa: People say “forgive but dont forget”, but I forget but dont forgive Rafa: I’ll be walking around town like I don't know your name but I know a BITCH when I see one

[gunshot] Amado: So sorry, new ringtone.

Javier: I sort of did something and I need some advice, but I don't want a lot of judgment and criticism. Carrillo: And you came to me?

#narcos #narcos mexico #narcoctober #javier pena #steve murphy #horacio carrillo #maria elvira #amado carrillo fuentes #rafa caro quintero #miguel angel felix gallardo #pacho herrera

[tofuwildcard]

Narco Boyfriends. :3c

#narcos mx #narcos #amado carrillo fuentes #pacho herrera #jose maria yazpik #alberto ammann #don't ask

[ladygoatee]

[x]

#narcos #narcos mx #alberto ammann #pacho herrera #josé maría yazpik #amado carrillo fuentes #narcos edit #K don't judge me. you didn't see this. #one day I'll be normal about these two but it is not this day. #my videos tag tbd

[filmshotsandhandsomeactors]

Handsome men from Narcos

#narcos #javier peña #pedro pascal #amado carrillo fuentes #jose maria yazpik #pacho herrera #alberto ammann #I watched this show for the story

[narcolini]

in the business

amado x pacho sister!reader, 2044 words, very very mild spice

request: Pacho has a little sister and she’s been sneaking around with Amado for a while, until Pacho finally finds out, from @purplesong1028​ 

a/n: usual note about characters not real people <3 

Your head hurts, no, your brain. It aches, swells, beats at your skull like a caged animal. You hadn’t even drank that much, really. It’ll just be from the late night, or early morning, rather. You hadn’t gotten back until, well, you check the clock, half an hour ago. Eight in the morning. You could have had more of a lie in, enjoyed the queen sized bed you’d ended up in, but you wanted to at least pretend you’d been home for some portion of the night. You’d got in, wiped the smell of booze and aftershave from your skin, slipped into your bed clothes and planted yourself in the kitchen. 

It was a good plan. Was, being the key word, because now it had failed. 

The second you begin to make yourself a coffee, you hear him. Always the voice before the footsteps. How a man like that manages to shuffle about unnoticed, is beyond you. 

‘You made it home, then,’ he says, from close enough behind you to smell his deodorant. Though, it’s so generously applied, you could probably smell him across a soccer pitch.

‘Doesn’t your shift start after my brother wakes up, Navegente?’

You glance over your shoulder, catching him shrug. He’s probably been up and stalking the house since dawn. 

‘I saw you, you know,’ he says. 

You ignore him. Coffee in the cup, cream, sugar. He continues. 

‘Getting out of his car.’

‘Would you like a prize?’ You turn and step around him. ‘It’s your job to keep watch, tonto.’

You know he’s smirking, because of course he is. You don’t do him the grace of looking. ‘Thought I would warn you,’ he says, ‘it might not be me who see’s you next time.’

Except it’s always him, because he’s always fucking there. 

——

The first few times you’d seen Amado, it had been fun without consequences. Sneaking about with the Lord of the Skies, with your brother’s business partner, it was enough to make you feel like a teenager again. Irresponsible. Free. He wasn’t often in Colombia, so it made it easier to overlook the complications. Like stopping at a bar for a drink, like placing bets on a horse, it didn’t matter once you’d left again. Or rather, once he had left. The vices couldn’t follow you home if they flew back to Mexico every time. 

But then, he’d started to get worried about it, whiny, really. This time, you hadn’t even made it out of the club before he’d mentioned Pacho’s name.

‘You aren’t going to tell him?’  he asked.

‘I haven’t decided.’ You’d settled into his lap, grateful for the privacy of the booth, and brushed his hair back to consider his face. Older than yours, but handsome despite, and because of— you liked the experience that sat in his features, the knowledge in his eyes. Even when he was asking stupid questions. ’I need to work out if you’re worth keeping first,’ you’d told him. ‘No need to start a family argument over something that might be temporary.’ 

‘That’s what you’re doing?’ He laughed once. ‘What? Is this an experiment or something, mija?’

You’d hummed a yes, curling the sound up with a smile. ‘So, you better make this worthwhile, Amado. You’ve been gone a long time.’

His brows went up, surprised, but not discouraged. ‘You think I should thank you for waiting?’

You considered nodding, but then shook your head, no, at the last moment. ‘You should be grateful I did.’ There were plenty of others you could have passed your time with, he knew that. 

‘Stay with me, then. Tonight.’ His hands slid up your spine. ‘I have a hotel, a nice one.’

‘Room for two?’ You’d asked, knowing the answer, knowing your choice already.

He smiled, his voice as intoxicating as liquor, ‘Para una reina, of course.’

——

You’d fallen asleep on one of the benches by the pool. When you woke up, your cheek was so warm from the sun it could’ve been burnt, but all that had really happened, was your headache had gotten worse. 

Now, you’re back in the kitchen nursing the only fruit you can find, hoping the fresh orange could somehow revive you. It would be easier if you used the family merchandise. One line would have you awake and clear from the lingering effects of your night with Amado, but you won’t touch the stuff. You took Pacho’s word for gospel, that it isn’t worth wasting ‘that pretty nose your mother gave you’. He had met your mother, you hadn’t, so you had no choice but to believe him. You’d both been given your stark honesty from the parent you did share, after all. 

There’s no greeting when Pacho finally emerges and joins you in the breakfast space. One moment you’re alone, the next, he’s there, talking over your head while he goes about his usual routine. If you weren’t upright and chewing, you might’ve guessed you’d drifted off again.

‘You didn’t come home last night,’ he comments, passing behind you to reach the coffee machine. He isn’t dressed but wrapped in a robe, plush white, soft like a housewife’s. It’s past noon now. He’s hardly the image of sanctity himself.

‘Who’s keeping track?’ You answer and drop your head back over the chair, putting him upside-down as if he’s standing on the ceiling. ‘You didn’t have an early night either.’

‘I was working.’

Your head spins, so you return to looking at the sliced orange in front of you. The segment you're holding leaks juice into your palm and down your wrist. You watch it bead against the skin. ‘And I had plans,’ you say. Plans that had begun the moment Amado’s work had finished, the second he was available and away from meetings at last. ‘You may be older, hermano, but you aren’t Dad.’

He says nothing, but you can guess that he’s clenching his jaw, tilting his head, and thinking, yeah, lucky for you, I’m not.

‘You don’t have to watch me,’ you tell him. 

‘I try not to.’ He brings himself to the table, coffee cup and saucer held before him. When he sets them down, your stomach drops. Now is where the real interrogation begins; this is a court room, that’s his gavel, and you are, unbeknownst to him, guilty as fucking charged. ‘Navegente says you sent Raúl away. That you insisted he didn’t wait for you.’ He doesn’t look at you. Instead, he leans back in his seat, puts one leg over the other, and fusses with the tie of his robe until its laid flat on his knee. He’s taking his time on purpose. ‘Why?’ he asks.

‘What?’ You laugh. ‘You only just wake up and already you’re questioning me?’ 

He waits. You’re forced to answer just to kill the silence. 

‘I didn’t need him.’ You put the orange piece into your mouth and talk around it. ‘It was safe enough.’

‘Safe enough,’ he repeats, tutting afterward. ‘Raúl is there for a reason, hermanita.’

‘Well,’ you allow yourself a smirk, ‘do you invite Navegente to accompany you on dates?’

He squints slightly, assessing the lie, you imagine. ‘A date?’

‘Mhm. Am I supposed to ask for permission first?’ 

A pause. ‘That depends on your taste in men.’

——

‘He’ll kill us.’ 

You’d made it back to Amado’s hotel, and he was still talking about it. Still fucking agonising over it. Even when you tugged at his shirt, button by button, even when you put his hands where they should have been already: fingers spread, palms to your ass. 

‘No, he’ll kill me,’ he corrected.

‘He won’t,’ you stressed, reminding him again that it didn’t matter, wouldn’t matter, because Pacho didn’t know. ‘If it bothers you that much, I won’t even tell him I’m dating someone.’

'C’mon,’ he sighed, and attempted to sound soft despite the command, ‘get serious, eh? You think he won’t work it out? Doesn’t notice you sneaking around every time I’m in Cali, amor?’

‘Are you really that much of a coward, Amado? Why do you care so much?’

‘Para mi negocio,’ he shrugged, ‘I have to—‘

You’d rolled your eyes and pulled away before he could finish. Your hand had lingered long enough on his throat to make him reconsider the argument—you saw it on his face—but then he took your elbows and dipped his gaze to meet yours. Not in the sexy, passionate way, but in the patronising manner you hated from him. The croon of his voice just pissed you off. He only adopted it when he wanted to convince you of something, when you were meant to see him as the smarter person and comply.

‘The more we see each other, mija, the worse it gets.’

Kill me, he’d said, cut me off, he’d meant. If Pacho found out, Amado could have to kiss his supply chain goodbye.

‘You know, maybe you should tell him,’ you’d said, half-joking, ‘he’s your friend, no?’

The scoff had flown out of him. ‘Wey, I mean that little to you?’  He laughed, smile ghosting his lips as he spoke, ‘Buenos socios, sí, but good business doesn’t usually include sleeping with the sister.’

You’d walked your fingers up his chest. ‘Do I need to remind you,’ you drawled, ‘who asked who?’

——

Pacho’s nostrils flare. He taps a finger to the table, one, two, the sound sharp and irritating despite the smooth finish of his nail, three. 

‘Qué quieres, Pachito?’ You peel another segment from the orange skin and feign a sigh. ‘Dime ya, hm? I’m tired.’

‘You don’t hide things, hermana.’

‘No,’ you agree, ‘I have no reason to.’

You see his chin drop in your peripheral. He’s back to looking at the end of his robe-belt, picking at the thread like it interests him. He pouts, lifts his shoulders slightly, sucks a tut through his teeth like he’s disappointed. ‘I wanted to give you the chance to tell me yourself.’

You pause, then force yourself to finish the mouthful. The orange sours in your throat. 

‘Navegente is less secretive than you,’ he continues. When he laughs, it forces a flush of embarrassment to your cheeks. ‘Amado?’ he says. ‘Really?’

‘Fucking chismoso,’ you curse, not bothering to hide it under your breath. You’re out in the open then, not as subtle as you thought you were, thanks to that freak with the smirk. ‘I’m an adult, Pacho.'

He shrugs, lifts a hand to show that he’s unbothered, he knows, he isn’t disputing that. 

‘So, what now?’ You laugh and it feels manic, on edge with nerves you’re trying to hide. You’d never thought this far in advance. ‘You forbid me from seeing him?’

You note something close to amusement behind his eyes. But again, he makes you wait, leaning forward to drink from his cup. Once it’s set down, he shakes his head and says, ‘No. I invited him to lunch with us.’

‘Qué?’ you balk. ‘Here?’

He nods. You feel your heart drop; through you, through the chair. It may as well have slapped onto the kitchen tile beneath. You had never wanted to tell him about your involvement with Amado, partly because it felt like a wrongdoing, like a disruption to their arrangement that could never be allowed to exist. A betrayal to your brother, too. But there was also a part of you that had liked keeping them separate, that had enjoyed having the excuse of secrecy to limit what the relationship could be. You could hardly avoid that conversation now that Pacho knows, and Amado is about to find out. 

‘Why would you do that?’ you demand. To embarrass you, to confront the both of you at once? The thought alone of the two of them in the same room as you is punishment in itself, never mind what it would actually entail. ‘No es serio, Pacho, you know how it is.’

‘Do I?’ He breathes a laugh, pushing it through his nose. Whatever the joke is, you missed it, and he has no intention of expanding. He stands at once, straight and tall over you. ‘Then you can tell him that,’ he says. ‘He’ll be here soon.’

‘Fuck.’ You sit back, hands falling limp into your lap. Fuck. 

#amado carrillo fuentes x reader #amado x reader #pacho sister fic #narcos mexico fanfic #narcos mexico #destroying my writers block by FORCE #sheer will power #dont ask why i picked this gif im babygirlifying the back of acostas head for the sake of pacho sister

[narcos-narcosmx]

College roommate | ficlet 3

Miguel & Navegante | ft. Pacho and Amado | Isabella mention

Credit goes to @purplesong1028 for their meme, see it here. It inspired this. These are for fun.

I don’t know what this is, or where it’s going. I saw the meme and this happen.

Miguel pauses in front of the door, hoping to god his weird ass roommate isn’t home.

Of all the people he could have got, they paired him up with Navegante. Even if Miguel wanted to talk to him, which he doesn’t, how could he? They didn’t even speak the same language.

Navegantes an odd guy. Miguel’s met his share of eccentric people, but his roommate takes the cake. Sometimes he sits in silence and just stares off, other times he talks about random things Miguel is sure he pulled out of his ass. He also liked to talk about animals and the environment, which was - interesting. He seemed pretty passionate about those things.

Miguel finished his paper then pushed back from the desk. Leaving his room, he heads to the kitchen to get something to drink.

In the kitchen, Navegante is leaned over the counter doing a puzzle, it’s one of those gigantic ones, taking up the whole damn counter. The box says something about ‘zoo animals’

Miguel suppresses a groan and goes to the fridge. As he takes out a drink, he can feel Navegante watching him. Miguel shuts the door,

“What are you looking at?”

Navegante shrugs, then goes back to his puzzle.

The small laugh he does next further feeds Miguel’s agitation.

“What’s so funny?”

Navegante, seemingly unbothered, glances at Miguel, then back at the puzzle.

“Did you know Zebra stripes are like fingerprints?” Navegante straightens up. He smiles at nothing, then continues, “no two Zebras have the same stripes.”

“What?” Miguel’s brows tense. He shakes his head then leaves the room.

What made it all worst is Navegante is close friends with Miguel’s enemy, Pacho; he fucking hates that guy. The only thing worse then Navegante being home is Pacho being here too. Miguel’s sure Pacho stays over for long periods of time just to fuck with him. And it works.

Miguel takes out his keys. If that bastard is there he’s going to Rafas, or his girlfriends, he doesn’t need this shit right now. It’s finals week. Just as he slides the key into the door, someone comes up behind him, he knows who it is from the sound of his boots.

“Hey man,” Amado nods at him, “I had to get out my room. My roommates up my ass, acting like a fucking cop or something.”

“Want to switch? I rather deal with Carrillo than what I have in there,” he motions to the door then gets an idea.

He’ll know if Pacho is here if the bikes here. He peaks around the corner, and right there, like a big fuck you is the motorcycle.

Miguel unlocks the door then turns Amado, “we’re not staying”

When they enter the hallway, He gets a text from Isabella. It’s a saving grace. There’s someone she wants him to meet tonight. This works out for him. He gets a new business connection and gets away for the night.

As they pass the living room, Miguel spots Navegante and Pacho. Navegante is sitting in a relaxed position on the couch, his red hair messy, like it usually is.

And fucking Pacho is making a drink at the mini bar, like he lives there.

“Hi roomie,” Navegante waves with a genuine smile.

Miguel frowns and keeps walking. Amado walks into the living room.

“Hey.” He says to both of them.

Pacho mixes his drink, his eyes fixed on Amado. He’s seen him around and likes the look of him, but doesn’t know him well.

Amado clears his throat, then smooths his hand over his hair. He’s not the nervous type, far from it. But something about being under Pachos gaze has that effect on him.

“Want a drink?” Pacho asked, as he raised his glass to his lips. His brown eyes remaining locked on the tall handsome man in black.

“Sure,” Amado approaches the bar. Pacho casually places his free hand on his arm,

“Sit, I’ll make it.”

Amado glances at Pachos hand, then back at him. He goes to the couch and sits. Navegante chuckles and exchanges a look look with Pacho.

The other ones inspired by Menes

#miguel felix #navegante #amado carrillo fuentes #Pacho/Amado #Isabella mention #I don’t know what this is it just happened okay

[purplesong1028]

Wrong in All the Right Ways

Chapter 11: Back to Back

Miguel brings the military to Ensenada in a magnificent comeback, but at what cost?

Warning: Detailed description of choking, but it didn’t actually happen.

Rating: PG 13

Paring: Amado/Miguel, Amado/Pacho

Words: 2,078

The flight to Ensenada is more boring than anything. Miguel looks at the silent, obedient military men around him, all bought and paid for. He thought he would be more excited, riled up by vindictiveness and upcoming victory, but he isn’t. There’s no more suspense or uncertainty, no more surprises waiting. He’s already won.

He lets his eyes rest and starts to picture everyone’s reaction, just for entertainment.

Acosta wouldn’t even care. The old fucker doesn’t want to work for anyone, so there’s probably not a big difference between Benjamín and Miguel himself.

Benjamín and the other Arellanos… Oh, what an interesting turn of events for them. He imagines Benjamín’s face: shocked, nervous but still calm and composed on the surface. Honestly, Miguel admires that about the man.

Chapo and Guero. Well, he’s pretty sure these two actually prefer him over Benjamín, or anyone from Tijuana for that matter. Will they be the only two people who are at least a little happy to see him there?

No. There’s also Amado.

Fuck, what about Amado?

Miguel takes a deep breath and leans back into the uncomfortable seat on the military helicopter. Just thinking about Amado being in that meeting brings a sourness to his chest, which he knows doesn’t make sense. What does he expect? Unconditional loyalty doesn’t exist in this business. In fact, he doesn’t believe it exists anywhere. It’s against human nature. Why would anyone give up their future, and even their life for someone with nothing to offer?

That was exactly him a few days ago: someone who had met their end. Even he believed it for a second.

But he got himself out, because he still managed to find something, someone to offer when he seemingly had lost everything.

Neto.

He sacrificed Neto, Amado’s uncle.

Miguel snaps his eyes open, suddenly realizes the weight of that truth.

Fuck, how is he supposed to face Amado after that? If he insists he has nothing to do with it, will Amado believe him?

Of course not. Miguel almost wants to laugh at his wishful thinking. Amado isn’t stupid. He’s going to realize what Miguel did as soon as he sees the military showing up as Miguel’s personal bodyguards.

Suddenly, he feels his stomach twist as a wave of nausea hits him. He doesn’t remember the last time he ate, not that he can do anything about that now. Miguel takes out two pills and swallows them dry. The soldier sitting next to him spares him a glance but doesn’t say anything.

But he just did what he had to do. He literally had a gun pointed at his head, so he had no other options. It wasn’t even his idea to kidnap a fucking DEA in the first place, so why should he die because of it? If their roles were reversed, Amado would have done the same thing, right? Otherwise why would Amado be there at Benjamín’s meeting?

When they have to choose between their own survival and loyalty to someone else, they always choose themselves. That’s just how things are.

This is who they are. No one’s better or worse than anyone else.

The helicopter makes a sharp turn as the large, secluded villa comes to sight. It’s a beautiful scene: beige walls, white sand, blue ocean. Years ago he used to dream about being somewhere like this, when he thought he couldn’t ever afford it for the rest of his life. Back then, the idea was nothing but a dream, unachievable and perfect.

Or rather, it was only perfect because it was unachievable.

*

Amado sips his whiskey, keeping his eyes on Benjamín who’s now talking about arranging new protection, but he’s only half listening, because there’s really nothing new, nothing unexpected. He is familiar with the tedious logistics in their business, and so is Benjamín and everyone else. The real purpose of this meeting is to establish Tijuana’s position as their new leader, and as far as Amado is concerned, that’s pretty much settled too.

Palma clearly isn’t qualified and Acosta isn’t interested. He tried with Pacho but…he would rather not think about that again now. So what else can they do? Tijuana seems to be the only option left.

He just needs to sit through this meeting and go back to Juárez, where Acosta is definitely not going to give a single shit about what Benjamín wants.

Putting down the glass, Amado lets his mind wander. How’s Neto doing? He should go visit him as soon as they get back. Honestly, he’s not too worried. The guards will do anything as long as they’re paid, and that no other inmates dare to disrespect Neto in any way. All things considered, Amado is quite sure his uncle isn’t having an awful time in there.

Amado doubts that will be the case for Miguel though. Absolutely nothing about Miguel says he’ll have a good time in prison. Not that anyone will give him troubles considering how much money and connections he has, but just the idea of being confined to a small space, with little control over his life is enough to drive the man crazy.

Part of Amado is amused by that, but mostly he just feels bad.

He’s not delusional. He knows this path they chose only ends in two ways, but still it saddens him, to witness someone like Miguel create something so much bigger than himself, achieving what has never been achieved before, yet still lose all of that in a blink of an eye, when one thing goes wrong.

*

Amado hears the noise before anyone else does. He’s heard it countless times, from a distance, right in front of it, or from inside.

Helicopters, at least five, maybe more.

People get up and start yelling frantically, taking out their weapons. He also gets his pistol ready, more of an instinct than an actual attempt at defense. They are currently in a large open space on the roof. If there are that many helicopters coming from the air, there’s no way any of them is getting out of here.

Well, fuck. Maybe this is it. Not just Rafa, Neto and Miguel. Maybe they’re all going to prison.

If they make it out of here alive, that is.

The largest helicopter lands first, and a batch of military men rushes out, but they’re not shooting anyone or giving commands, just silently standing in front of the helicopter gate, like they are guarding someone to make a grand entrance.

Amado feels his heart skip a beat. His vision goes dark for a second as his breath hitches at the throat.

He feels it before seeing it with his own eyes.

Miguel walks out.

*

Amado watches the surreal scene unfold in front of him, too stunned to think. But there’s not much thinking required to draw the clear conclusion: there is only one reason that Miguel has the army standing behind him while Neto is in prison.

Miguel put Neto in prison.

*

Ironically, Amado has imagined, hoped for something like this to happen, a fantasy where Miguel somehow magically gets away. But there is no magic in the real world. Everything is a deal, and everyone has a price.

The military takes away their men, especially the ones Benjamín brought, but leaves all the plaza leaders, basically anyone who’s important enough for Miguel to keep around for now, until they aren’t.

As Miguel walks past him, their eyes meet for a brief second. Amado can’t make out the other man’s expression across two pairs of sunglasses, and he wonders if there’s even a tiny hint of guilt or regret in those brown eyes that he’s looked into a thousand times.

Would it even matter if there is?

Miguel starts talking, about the business, about Rafa and Neto, about a bright future together. The words get into his ears but they have no meaning, his brain failing to register them.

Out of nowhere, he thinks of Pacho again, how the Colombian shaked his wine glass elegantly while asking him to kill Miguel.

That was it. That was all he needed to do to put Juárez on top, to put himself on top. No Benjamín, no Miguel.

He couldn’t fucking do it.

But Miguel would, if their roles were reversed.

*

Someone pats him on the shoulder, and Amado almost jumps. He looks to the right, and sees Acosta right there, already stood up from the couch. Beside them, people are already walking out, the Arellanos first, probably not wanting to spend one more humiliating second here, followed by Sinaloa.

He gives Acosta a nod. “I’ll catch up.”

The older man regards him for several seconds, face unreadable as usual, but then walks out without saying anything.

Suddenly the large roof becomes quiet, with all signs of humans faded away. Soft summer wind blows gently, carrying the natural sound of shuffling leaves and rolling sea waves.

Amado walks to the edge of the roof and inhales until his lungs are filled with fresh air. He stops breathing and lets it stay inside of him, as if the natural salty sensation can somehow clean his stuffed chest.

He holds his breath, shutting his eyes as his chest begins to feel tight, and then sour, then burning, his heart rate slowing down.

He knows Miguel is still sitting there, watching him from a safe distance. The military has retrieved from the roof, but they must be still on alert, ready to move in as soon as something goes wrong.

Is Miguel worried about that? Does Miguel think he would try to hurt him? Kill him?

Does he want to?

Amado opens his eyes and finally exhales, loud enough for Miguel to hear. All muscles on his body relax instantly as new oxygen flows into the bloodstream, exactly what he needs.

He turns around and walks to Miguel, hands in pockets, slow and steady, but not slow enough to appear deliberate. Miguel shifts slightly in the chair, like he thought about uncrossing his legs but decided against it.

Amado stops in front of him.

Miguel looks up.

*

Amado grabs him by the throat, closing his fingers around the vulnerable wind pipes and veins. He still can’t see Miguel’s eyes, but he’s sure they’re now filled with shock and horror.

He lifts him up. Miguel can’t stop him. He can’t match Amado’s physical strength to begin with, and certainly not when Amado’s fueled by hatred induced adrenaline.

Amado hears a choking sound, but he ignores it and crushes the smaller man against the nearest wall, hard enough to cause a mild concussion.

Miguel struggles against him desperately, fingernails digging into his hand, drawing blood. It hurts but he doesn’t care, barely even feels it. It feels like he’s turned into a robot and his hand an iron clap, designed to do one thing and one thing only.

Soon enough, the struggles have slowed down, and the body goes limp against his hold. The shallow breathing and weak pulse are the only signs of life left.

Just a few more seconds. That’s all it takes.

Or he can let go, and do something else.

Anything else, anything he wants.

*

Amado takes his right hand out of his pocket, and slowly reaches forward, offering a handshake.

“Welcome back, Miguel.”

Miguel’s body stills for a glimpse of a second, too subtle to be noticed by a lot of people, but not to him.

He saw it, and Miguel knows he did.

“Thank you.”

There’s a subtle hoarseness in Miguel’s voice, his palm cold and sweaty against Amado’s hand.

Amado squeezes it tight, and holds onto it for a little longer than necessary. Just a few more seconds. Just this one last time.

Then he turns away, striding to the exit, the residual sensation in his palm disappears as a gentle breeze brushes against it.

*

Miguel sits alone on the roof. Very rarely, he loses sense of time. Although it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, since his hand still feels warm, and his pulse is still slightly elevated.

He looks around, again making sure no one is around, and then reaches into his pocket.

His fingertips touch a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a piece of paper that he doesn’t remember.

And a metal chain.

A golden chain with a weird little metal wheel attached to it.

It feels heavy on his palm.

It glows under the afternoon sunlight.

PS. I know I haven’t updated in a while but I promise I’m back and running!! Thank you so much feveryone who���s still following and supporting my work❤️

Tag list: @ashlingiswriting @hausofmamadas @narcolini @mandaloria314 @cherixrosa @cositapreciosa @criatividad-e @drabbles-mc @sikkui @dashavau @anunhealthydoseofangst (Let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged for this story)

#narcos #narcos fanfic #narcos Mexico #narcos mexico fic #pacho herrera #amado carrillo fuentes #miguel angel felix gallardo #amado/pacho #amado/miguel

[sinner-sinta]

Oooouuughhhh I'm getting nostalgic about Narcos Mexico again </3

#narcos mexico #i miss amado and pacho #and amado and miguel ángel #oooguuhhhhhh

[mumaugh]

back my pacho era, am afraid

#like he is soooooooooooooooo #to me #rewatching s3 of mexico and like. will b heading to the amado/pacho tag expeditiously

[pachoherrerastoy]

Alberto Ammann and José María Yazpik behind the scenes of Narcos : Mexico 🥺 they both look SO adorable!! cute bbies fr 😭

#pacho herrera #narcos #alberto ammann #narcos mexico #narcos: mexico #narcos netflix #jose maria yazpik #amado carrillo fuentes #behind the scenes #netflix

[narcosfandomdiscord]

narcos fandom smut alphabet - finished!

you know what goes really well with summer sunshine and narcos tv rewatches? SMUTTY FIC!

(they put that bisexual lighting on Isabella for a reason, after all!)

this was our first month of prompts over at @narcosfandomdiscord! for every letter of the alphabet, we had two smutty prompts that fanfic writers used for inspiration. 🥰 our group ambition was to create at least one fic per letter—26 new narcos smut fics during the month of July—and we totally smashed it, in large part thanks to prolific work from @salt-is-a-terrible-currency. happy reading!

if you prefer reading on ao3, check out our collection. all fics tagged as #nffalphabet on tumblr. and it's just that simple 🥰

if you have any questions, you can message us on tumblr or join our narcos fandom discord here!

🍰 Prompt List & Fic Masterlist 🍰

July 1 — A — angry sex, anal

Right For Once by @drabbles-mc — Steve Murphy x f!Reader, angry sex, 2.3k

Infuriating by @salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, angry sex, 1.5k

Our Man In Mexico by @hausofmamadas — Horacio Carrillo x Andrea Nuñez, angry sex, 2.5k

July 2 — B — blood, bound & begging

Final Warning by @purplesong1028 — Amado x Pacho, bound & begging, 490

Please (with your finger) by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, bound & begging, 1.2k

blood on vacation by @ashlingnarcos — David Barrón x f!Reader, blood, 1.8k

July 3 — C — cuffs, choking

If I go too far by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, choking, 737

mentirosos by @narcolini — Kitty Paez x gn!Reader, cuffs, 1.1k

July 4 — D — domesticity, “don’t make a sound or they’ll hear us.”

Taking Care by drabbles-mc — Diego Ramirez (Narcos OC) x F!Reader, domesticity, 2.1k

Lipstick's smudged by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, domesticity and “don’t make a sound or they’ll hear us", 447

A Few Moments by @purplesong1028 — Miguel Félix/Pacho Herrera, “don’t make a sound or they’ll hear us", 482

July 5 — E — edging, eldritch

The first time I felt a ghost by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, eldritch, 716

July 6 — F — fight or fuck?, friends with benefits

No relationship talk by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, friends with benefits, 422

Unbroken Rules by drabbles-mc — Horacio Carrillo x f!Reader, friends with benefits, 2.9k

July 7 — G — gag/gagging, gun play

Paper-thin walls by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader, gag/gagging, 361

Whatever He Wants by purplesong1028 — Amado Carrillo Fuentes x Miguel Félix, gun play, 416

July 8 — H — honor bondage, hatesex

Dress blues by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader x Gurney Halleck, honor bondage, 1.8k

THE DISTANCE BETWEEN US by hausofmamadas — Enedina Arellano x David Barrón, honor bondage, 2k

July 9 — I — infidelity, in public

Never meet your heroes by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, in public, 955

Don't Mention It by drabbles-mc — Javier Peña x f!Reader, infidelity and in public, 2.7k

No Strong Suit by purplesong1028 — Miguel Félix x Pacho Herrera, infidelity, 439

July 10 — J — jealousy, "just shut up already"

Unprofessional by drabbles-mc — Walt Breslin x f!Reader, jealousy, 4.3k

A bad idea by @artemiseamoon — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, jealousy, 2.3k

The ring by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, jealousy, 1.1k

July 11 — K — knotting, knocked up

Which time? by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, knocked up, 418

Secrets in the night by artemiseamoon — Horacio Carrillo x Original Female Character, knocked up, 3.5k

Someday When It's Over by drabbles-mc — Horacio Carrillo x Original Female Character, knocked up, 2.8k

July 12 — L — luxury, lingerie

Eres guapa by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, lingerie, 544

Desire by artemiseamoon — Enedina Arellano x Original Female Character, lingerie and luxury, 3.9k

Round-trip Ticket by drabbles-mc — Steve Murphy x Original Female Character, lingerie, 7.7k

July 13 — M — mirrors, "make me forget (all about him/her/it/them)"

Another brick in the wall by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, make me forget, 812

Favors Owed by drabbles-mc — Maria Elvira x gn!Reader, make me forget, 2.7k

Like Old Times by artemiseamoon — Judy Moncada x Original Female Character, mirrors, 1.4k

July 14 — N — nipple play, "no one does it like you"

No One Like You by drabbles-mc — Javier Peña x f!Reader, no one does it like you, 2k

Sore by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, nipple play, 580

July 15 — O — on all fours, one night stand

Cascade by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader, one night stand, 580

July 16 — P — praise kink, pulling hair

Dress blues, pt 2 by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader x Gurney Halleck, praise kink, 404

July 17 — Q — quiet (or trying to be), quickie

Sweet, sharp, addictive by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, quiet (or trying to be) and quickie, 464

July 18 — R — role reversal, ruined

Bad Guy Treatment by drabbles-mc — Steve Murphy x f!Reader, role reversal, 3.8k

What is she to him by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, ruined, 444

July 19 — S — submit, "say my name"

Stoke the flames by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader, submit, 387

July 20 — T — trapped together, tied up

On company time by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader, trapped together, 574

July 21 — U — upper hand, underwater

The Weight of It All by drabbles-mc — Walt Breslin x Sal Orozco, underwater, 2k

he keeps his rules. you keep him. by ashlingnarcos — Horacio Carrillo x gn!Reader, upper hand, 1.1k

Polkadots by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, underwater, 359

July 22 — V — virginity (loss or roleplay), video

Off the Backburner by drabbles-mc — Steve Murphy x f!Reader, virginity, 4.1k

In this moment of pretend by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, virginity roleplay, 435

July 23 — W — "we probably shouldn't do this", worship

Stay A Little Longer by drabbles-mc — Horacio Carrillo x f!Reader, "we probably shouldn't do this", 1.5k

Lunch break daydream by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader, "we probably shouldn't do this", 497

July 24 — X — exhibitionism, exes having sex

It's complicated by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Helena, exes having sex, 971

Not Yours Anymore by drabbles-mc — Steve Murphy x Original Female Character, exes having sex, 3.2k

no witness by ashlingnarcos — Walt Breslin x f!Reader, exes having sex, 2.4k

July 25 — Y — yearning, "you look good like this"

Superman (4) by @garbinge — Javier Peña x f!Reader, "you look good like this", 5k

Lost Time by drabbles-mc — Horacio Carrillo x f!Reader, yearning, 2.9k

If he closes his eyes by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, yearning, 442

July 26 — Z — zipper, zeal

Things Like That by drabbles-mc — Danilo Garza x f!Reader, zipper, 2k

Zealot by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader and Nathan "Cable" Summers from Deadpool x f!Reader, zeal, 4k

(note: we hit the link limit on this post so from now on, links will be to fics + to authors on their first appearance.)

#narcos mexico #narcos #narcos imagine #narcos fanfiction #nffalphabet