#horacio carrillo fic

[heyhilana]

Say Yes (Javier Peña and Horacio Carrillo)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s right. Now choose cariño.”

“I want Javi to go first.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you feeling okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#lanawrites #pedro pascal #pedropascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #maurice compte #mauricecompte #horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo fic #horacio carrillo x you #horacio carrillo smut #javierpena #javier peña smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña #javier pena smut #javier pena #javier pena fic #javier pena x you #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader

[goodnitedrdead]

god only knows

Horacio Carrillo x reader

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

Word Count: 1.1k

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

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

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

And a leader he became.

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

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

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

Just as tradition states.

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

Just as tradition states.

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

Tradition never changes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something he had never truly quite felt.

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

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

Tradition was never supposed to change, right?

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

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

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

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

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

#colonel carrillo x reader #colonel carrillo x you #colonel carrillo imagine #colonel carrillo #colonel carrillo fic #horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo x you #horacio carrillo fic #horacio carrillo imagine #horacio carrillo #narcos fic #maurice compte #goodnitedrdead writes

[the-hinky-panda]

Off Grid: Part I (Horacio Carrillo x Reader)

Title: Off Gride

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Horcaio Carrillo x Fem!Reader

Summary: Horacio survives the ambush and is sent to a CIA safe house to recover. You, a homesteader and survivalist, are his handler until he's healed. But when you both realize that you're just property, you start planning on how to slip out of your government cage and start your own lives.

“Loneliness is a mirror, and recognizes itself.” - Jodi Picoult

You’re nine and running through the bayous of Beauregaro Island, a slip of land off the coast of Grand Isle, Louisiana. You and your father had been living in an abandoned shack on stilts. No electricity, no running water, no way for people to find you. You had been living off the swamp land for a little over a week when your father caught sight of lights out on the bayou. 

“Kontinye, fi!” her father hisses over his shoulder. 

Keep up, girl. And you try, honest to God, you try. But you haven’t eaten a solid meal in three days and your legs won’t work the way you need them to right now. You’re tired, and sluggish. When your father looks behind him again, you can see the resignation in his eyes. It will be many years after that night before you realize that’s what it was. He picks you up under your armpits and tucks you into a hollowed out tree trunk. 

“Rete.” 

Stay. 

So you do. You stay as the hounds run past the tree, tracking your father’s scent and not yours. The men with shotguns and flashlights pass next. Then comes a terrible silence: no splashing through the water, or hounds howling, or men shouting. It makes the shotgun blast all the more deafening and world changing when it explodes through the quiet. You clamber out of your hiding place and run towards the flashlights now. Your father is the only concern you have now. The flashlights that had been bobbing in the dark, are now focused on a body that is face down in the black bayou water. 

“Papa!” 

Your shout alerts the men to your presence but you don’t care at this point. Your father, your protector, your best friend is gone. You’re alone and you don’t want to be. If these men are going to take your father away from you, then you’re going to go with him. You splash your way past them and reach for your father’s bloodsoaked shirt but just as your fingers brush the soft flannel fabric, someone pulls you back. 

“Easy, Piti,” a deep man’s voice says. 

But grief and fear turn you into a rabid animal, kicking, screaming, scratching. He’s wearing a bulletproof vest so all your blows are glancing and weak. 

“Stechner, what do we do with the kid?” 

You find yourself being handed off to another man with a beard. He recoils from holding you, your filthy clothes, muddy shoes, and bared teeth. Instead, you’re dropped back down into the ankle deep water and the new man grabs ahold of your arm. 

“I’ll deal with her.” 

He starts marching you off, away from your father. “You killed my papa! And now you’re going to leave him there? The gators-” 

“That’s the idea, sweetheart. Right-wing militia man gets turned around the swamp and eaten by an alligator. Daughter rescued after surviving days on her own in the bayou. How’s that sound?” 

You stare up at him, every fiber in your being filled with hate. “Like bullshit.” 

“Oooh, got a mouth on you.” He gives a short nod. “I may be able to work with that, kid.” 

Exhaustion quickly overtakes you as you struggle to keep up with long strides. You focus instead on the rhythmic footfalls in the squelching mud. Anything but the uncertainty and loss that has made a hole so large in your heart, you’re going to have it for the rest of your life. 

Thunk. 

Thunk. 

Thunk. 

***

Thunk. 

Your eyes open and you’re staring at the rough hewn beams of the small cabin in Vermont. 

Thunk.

You had fallen asleep on the couch reading Jane Eyre. 

Thunk. 

Sitting up, you look around the small living space for the noise that’s roused you from your nap. You’ve had a house guest for the last month but now that he's moving around, new noises have invaded your small homestead and you’re trying to learn what all the new noises mean. 

Thunk. 

You finally recognize the sound you’re hearing and it launches you off the couch. You shove your feet into the rubber boots that had been left by the door and notice your charge’s boots are missing. “No, no, no…” 

You take off down the handful of stairs off the front porch and jog out to the woodpile. The woodpile that has grown quite a bit since yesterday. How long has he been out here? You see him, white t-shirt soaked with sweat as he raises the ax to split another log. Seeing the bulge of his biceps as he prepares to bring the ax down belies the fact that out of the month of his stay here, three of those weeks had been bedbound. 

“Colonel Carrillo!” 

He brings the ax down with one forceful blow before leaving the blade stuck in the old tree stump and facing you. “¿Si, Enfermera?” 

Nurse. That’s been his nickname for her since his arrival. He doesn’t realize you’re his handler, protector. Nursing him back to health after a cartel ambush in Medellín is only a small part of your job with him. “You’re not cleared for-”

He scoffs and wipes the sweat off his forehead with his shoulder. “It’s cold at night here.” 

You step in front of him and grab the ax handle. “I’m sorry it’s not as balmy as it is in Medellín, but you should not be out here doing this.” 

He shrugs, a smirk crossing his features. “I seem just fine.” 

Yeah, that’s the current problem you’ve been having. He’s twice your age, just back from death’s door, and the handsomest man the CIA have ever dropped on your doorstep to shelter. And there have been quite a few over the last ten years. None of them have caused you to second guess your life and goals. You’ve been loaner since the night your father was shot down by a joint task force of the ATF and CIA. But this man, the one standing in front of you in a shirt clinging to him like it’s two sizes too small, arrogant and handsome, he’s causing you to wonder if maybe there’s more to life than being the US government’s half-way house. 

“Seeming and being are two different things.” You yank the ax out of the tree stump with a sharp jerk. “My boss is going to have my ass if you suffer a setback now.” 

“Are you trying to get me out as soon as possible, Enfermera?” 

“The sooner, the better, Colonel.”  

Especially for you. 

#horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo x you #horacio carrillo fic #horacio carrillo #colonel horacio carrillo fic #colonel horacio carrillo

[velvetmel0n]

I Slithered Here From Eden; Prologue

Summary: The Embassy’s newest intern has a run in with everyone’s favorite Colonel

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: I haven’t written in like two years so enter at your own risk, idk man age gap??? Reader has graduated college and is like midish twenties, neither party wants to pine but oh well, the university girl and the colonel tag is becoming a fic

A/N: Consider this like a teaser trailer for the feature length fic coming soon to a screen near you......I’m putting my clown wig on as we speak

@vladviago @alexxavicry @nessamc @hallothankmas @mamacitapascal @morguleth @venusandromedadjarin @watsonwise @mserynlarsen @brihhhhhh @millllenniawrites @bookshelvesandteacups @littleferal @feelmyroarrrr @maybege @wretchedwisteria @oldstuffnewstuff @miss-me-jack @plexflexico @writefightandflightclub  @visintaes @mapache-lector @goldafterglow @hansoulo @mylifeliterally @adverbedly @spoopyredacted @pikemoreno @perropascal @shadow-assassin-blix @veracruz-miller @flightlessangelwings @themarcusmoreno​

You’re too focused on the files in front of you to notice his entrance, mind too full of manila folders and grainy photographs, trying to divine an organizational system that makes sense to more than just you from redacted words and red ink. Trying to make sense of how things work in this place where the green of the jungle and the humidity are each living, breathing things— so unlike the sleepy college town you’d been imported from, courtesy of the Embassy. Professional internship, they had called it. Your reward for all the sleepless nights over the years, studying into the small hours of the morning to graduate well within the top of your class, several minors and certificates tacked along behind your actual major because you wanted to be good. Wanted to save the world, wanted to weasel your way into international politics and diplomacy and communications because you thought that changing it from within, from the room where it happened, would be the best strategy. 

And you still do, but sometimes you wish saving the world came with better coffee. You don’t bother hiding the grimace as you gulp it down, too bitter and burnt for the cheap, breakroom creamer in the little plastic cups to really touch it but it’s still your second cup of the day and beggars can’t be choosers. In the short weeks since your arrival you had gotten used to the acrid taste, the way it liked to stick to your teeth. It seems to underscore your work in times like these, when it’s barely ten o’clock in the morning and you’re already frustrated, ran fifteen minutes late because you thought you could walk to the Embassy this morning, wanted to enjoy the sights and sounds of the city waking from its fitful sleep. You made three wrong turns before you’d admitted defeat and caught a taxi. 

But you had made it and you’re here now, engrossed in your work, lost to the outside world until a voice sounds from right in front of you, cutting through the din of the office because he’s actually addressing you in a voice you’ve never heard before. You can’t help the way you jump, heart tripping over itself and one of the papers in your hand slicing across the pad of your thumb, right down the middle.

“Colonel Carrillo,” Because you know who he is, had been given a run down on all the important players when your plane had landed so you’d be able to hit the ground running, wouldn’t have to wait for formal introductions that may never come. He looks the same as he did in the photo you were shown, right down to the uniform he’s wearing, but you’re seeing him in the flesh now, can see the true breadth of his shoulders and the way he seems to fill the whole room up. Can see the way the coworkers who’ve noticed keep sneaking glances from the corner of their eye, like they want to look but don’t want the full weight of his attention on them. 

Because it is a weight, thick and heavy and warm as it settles on your eyes, your skin. 

“What can I do for you?” You can feel heat rising up the back of your neck but you rally, proud when there’s no quaver in your voice despite the way you almost jumped out of your skin. This is what you do, after all. Your job. You did not come here just to shake like a leaf at the sight of Escobar’s own personal boogie man, the man you’ve been hearing stories about since you arrived. Mean, they say. Brutal. And you have half a mind to believe them, of course, because this is Colonel Horacio Carrillo. The one person in charge of the Search Bloc, the man leading the war on the ground.  

But his voice is soft as he speaks to you, so at odds with the harsh lines of his face, the set of his jaw. “Get these to Peña and Murphy,” No please, no thank you as he hands the small stack of files over, just the silent expectation that his orders will be fulfilled. 

His fingers are warm and rough as you take the files from him, skin brushing skin and for some reason that small touch, that one small feel of him, makes your breath catch and something dangerous prickle across your skin. You try not to think about it the same way you’re trying not to think about the blood that’s surely blooming on your thumb, the little ache that’s underscoring everything that’s happening, the throb underneath the skin. The same way you’re trying not to think about the heat that’s begun pooling low in your belly, the way the hair on the back of your neck is standing up because he hasn’t looked away from you once. Not once, and the realization makes it a little harder to breathe.

“I’ll make sure they get them,” You hope your smile is easy, if a little bland. Hope he can’t read anything else in the curve of your lips because the last thing you need is him. Older and meaner than you have any right to want. Dark in a way you can’t quite fathom yet, the kind of dark that justifies the means to an end everyone in this building wants to see. An end you want to see. 

He nods once, a simple dip of his chin and what might have been a murmured ‘thank you,’ and you don’t look at his shoulders as he walks away. You don’t look at how he moves, how people get out of his way long before he reaches them. He’s something quiet and seething and it shouldn’t make your mouth water, the latent power that you already know lies just beneath his skin. It shouldn’t make something low in your belly quiver, almost in time with the throbbing of your thumb. 

You swipe the blood way with your tongue, sucking on the cut until it stops its slow drip, taking care not to get any on the paperwork spread around you. It tastes like pennies and the coffee that had spilled over the rim of your cup when you’d walked back to your desk. It tastes like Carrillo’s name. 

You don’t see him for the rest of the week but you can’t keep him out of your head, his voice haunting you when it’s late at night and the air is warm and heavy, when the shadows can keep your secrets. You blame it on the fact that you’d never met someone like him before, never seen someone like him before— so big and solid with that scowl on his face.

 You don’t want to know what it says about you that he’s the one that you can’t stop thinking about, not Peña or even Murphy, or any of the other men at the Embassy you see on a semi-regular basis. You don’t want to know what it says about you that instead of wanting one of them, a good portion nice-enough-seeming and closer to your age bracket, you want the Colonel. 

You don’t know that he’s thinking about you either, so bright and soft he didn’t know what he was looking at, at first. You kept your word though, getting the files to Peña and Murphy as soon as you could, and he tells himself that's why he comes back to you when he needs something else. Why he keeps coming back until he learns your name, until you smile when you see him and start asking how his day is going. 

#horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo x you #horacio carrillo imagine #horacio carrillo fic #narcos fic #circus music starts playing in the background #it's clownery your honor

[mariamariquinha]

What's behind...

Still on that road, I’m back for some background inspiration/maybe I’m little too much into music/my guys have personal playlist stuff. Today we’re going to Versos de Placer, this piece of messy cops and dead bodies and Horacio Carrillo. 

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Versos de Placer - Colonel Horacio Carrillo

Yeah, well, we all know the synopsis of this story, right? A Colombian man with dubious ethics and a gringa with daddy issues who have sex. It’s my first Carrillo’ fic and we all know how much I adore Maurice in Narcos. Boom, boom, let’s goooooo 💃

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VERSOS DE PLACER - MAYE

Well, I think the name said it 😂😂😂 But it’s kinda curious and delightful to use that song as my first big break on Tumblr, especially with Carrillo who’s a character I personally like a lot. I mentioned an excerpt from it when I made a moodboard for this fanfic a while ago. 

Versos de Placer talks about finding an unexpected love, something that no one was looking for but found in a remarkable and true way. Although the story has not yet been so evident in this regard, I have been reinforcing important signs of the characters' expectations and yearnings for this feeling.

--

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Yo que no te busqué (I did not look for you)

Sin querer te encontré (I accidentally found you)

--

Me escapó (I run)

A dónde tú estés (where you are)

Una y otra vez (over and over)

More than just the classic “Found you on my worst, you gave me new meaning”, I believe that Carrillo is the type of character who doesn’t mind love. It’s just there for him, sometimes, and he gets used to it since he lives a life of danger, like he rationalized it. The relationship he builds with reader is purely rational and even in the moments of desire or sentimental sharing, in the end they both don’t know what is the next step - they just know something is there and it’s good. 

TÚ - MAYE

Like most writers, I was kind of in a moment when I started writing Versos de Placer. I'm not there anymore, but for all intents and purposes I can say that this particular singer was an inspiration. Firstly because she sings in Spanish and secondly because she's good - I thought that made sense.

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Todo lo que pasa es relativo (Everything that happens is relative)

Pero cada vez que estoy contigo (But every time I'm with you)

El tiempo se detiene (The time stops)

Y desaparece (And disappears)

--

Ya no me hace falta nada más (I don’t need anything else)

Si lo más difícil de encontrar (If the hardest to find)

Lo encontré contigo (I found with you)

Writing to certain couples is like catching glimpses of a future. If I could define a timeline of the story, Versos de Placer would begin and Tú would end, like a moment in which they move from uncertainty to an absolute truth. I'm a sucker for love stories with happy endings - with fidelity, devotion, contact. And perhaps someone may disagree, but I see Carrillo as the type of man who doesn't love unless it's like that, because as I already said, for him love is a palpable feeling and there was no other way to experience it than in total effort. 

This song has a soft, hopeful tone, like a calm, warm love - like driving down the road with the sea breeze on your face, no music but the sound of the wind. I think they both deserve it. Carrillo deserves it.

CHAN CHAN - BUENA VISTA SOCIAL CLUB

Latin culture is very rich - A LOT. As a Latina woman, I love learning about everything Latin American countries have to offer and I like to talk about it whenever I can, as a historical reparation or just... because. I won't dwell on this, everyone already knows.

I chose this song, but I'm not going to put the lyrics because it's not necessarily what they say, but the intention behind it. Buena Vista Club is a Cuban group and the music, in general, portrays the experience in Cuba. Still, the choice of instruments, the vocal intonation, the musical rhythm, everything always led me to a Carrillo who, unable to consume foreign culture beyond what was strictly necessary, would listen to this. On days in a good mood (rare and very vague) he would hum the song while doing everyday things.

This song is an experience. Listen if you can.

INTIMIDADE - LINIKER E OS CARAMELOWS

Liniker is a Brazilian trans singer who has already become a reference and probably a part of the history of my country. I adore her. Like, she's a goddess. I think that anyone who would think about learning more about our music should start or at least go through her work.

This song is a production with the band that accompanied it, the "Caramelows", and they had such an incredible repertoire.

--

--

Vem me visitar de madrugada (Come visit me early in the morning)

Colocar tua mão em mim que eu deixo (Put your hand on me and I'll let you)

Sem pressa você chega e fica (No rush, you arrive and stay)

Eu finco afeto nesse peito (I plant affection in this chest)

--

Soma, mas não some, fica e a gente dorme (Add up, but don't disappear, stay and we sleep)

Incenso a casa com alecrim (Home incense with rosemary)

The name of the song is very intuitive - Intimacy. To stay together. To share. I don't know, it makes sense. In a context where Carrillo is a man with many rough edges, I think a good thing about many stories is to explore this. It's not my focus, but I can certainly recommend others that address the subject better. This song is more of a recommendation, an immersion into what a relationship with Carrillo could be if nothing were... Well, if we created him. 

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

P.S.

I'm taking steps back with my posts here, but I'm not on hiatus. I've been owing this for months and only now have I found the strength to finish it, so you can imagine what my pace has been like lately. This IS NOT an apology, even though it's not a secret (I've always been very clear about my pace), I'm not sorry either. Sometimes life happens and that's normal. 

I'm specifically working on Bossa Nova, because I also took steps back with Versos de Placer for the sake of the story; as I said above, I'm not at the same point as I was when I started it. 

I have a request on my list that I will do as soon as I can. The second part of the last chapter I wrote of Versos de Placer will come out when I'm ready, because it's going to be a turning point and as we're in the final stretch, I want to be more sure of what I want to do. You understand.

The weather is strange around the world, so take care! I'll be around, but a little more off. 

Stay safe!

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

No pressure tags:

@cheesybadgers​

@thesandbeneathmytoes​

@616wilsons​ ​

@nessamc​

@thoroughlymodernminutia​ ​

@padbrookcottage​ ​

@mysoulisasunflower​ ​​

#horacio carrillo x reader #colonel carrillo x reader #colonel horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo #narcos #narcos fandom #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #colonel carrillo fic #horacio carrillo fic #female reader

[mariabolivar12]

Cartas de amor prohibido

Emparejamiento: Horacio Carrillo x lectora Escobar

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-que decía esa nota?-

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

-Gracias Coronel-

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

-hasta cuando estaré aqui?-

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

-se va a quedar aquí?-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Señor Coronel Horacio Carrillo

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

Att: Pablo Escobar

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

Señor Pablo Escobar

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

Att: Coronel Horacio Carrillo

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

#horacio carrillo x reader #colonel carrillo #horacio carrillo fic #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x you #maurice compte

[leylinefiction]

Los Regalos (Horacio Carrillo x Reader) 

Pairing: Colonel Horacio Carrillo x Fem!Reader

Rating: PG (if you squint)

Summary: You're new to Colombia and the Search Bloc, loaned out by the Army to help sift through the wiretaps, sat phone calls, and other communications. Everything is off to a normal start until someone starts leaving little gifts on your desk and you're determined to figure out who it is. Carrillo is not married in this fic because I'm the author and I say so.

Author's Note: Anon who suggested this prompt, I am forever in your debt. I hope you let me know who you are because I loved writing this. And I'm leaving it open for further one-shots if you want me to continue to add to it.

Los Regalos (Gifts)

The gifts show up on your desk randomly. 

At least, you think they’re gifts. The terrible thought that they could have been just left on your desk absentmindedly and were meant for someone else crashes into your thoughts. But if that were the case, it should have stopped after you claimed the small, potted orchid as your own. And the pound of Robusta coffee with a handmade ceramic mug. A box of cocadas, which you sincerely wish you knew where those came from because they were fantastic. Today, it's a beautiful ceramic bowl with different types of fruit in it. Most of which you have no idea what they are. Or how to eat them. 

“Another gift from the secret admirer?” 

You look up to see the two DEA agents that have been assigned to work with the newly formed Search Bloc come into the shared office space. It was Agent Peña that had spoken. 

“Yeah,” you answer. “Although I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with some of these.” You pick up a bright pinkish-red fruit. “Like, what is this?” 

“That’s a pitahaya,” Peña says. “In the US we call them dragon fruit.” 

So that’s what a dragon fruit is. 

“Now this one,” Peña picks up a green spiky fruit, “is a guanabana. Don’t eat the skin or the seeds inside it, they’re poisonous. Just eat the meat.” 

“Good to know,” you take the fruit and put it back into the bowl. You’re still relatively new to Colombia, assigned to Centra Spike under the umbrella of the Army. Your job is to listen to phone calls made over the wiretaps and satellite phones, trying to figure out what was from the narcos and what was just common chatter. Your family thought you were running through the barrios of Bogotá and Medellín, in a flak vest and gun, shooting down sicarios and arresting drug dealers. You tried to explain to them that you live at a desk with headphones over your ears but they preferred their version of events. It made social events more interesting for them. 

“You figure out who it is leaving you these things?” Agent Murphy asks. 

You shake your head. “Not yet. The mystery continues.” 

You thought it could be one of them since you’re an American, with the Army, and trying to get adjusted to life in a foreign country. But Murphy is married and trying to get adjusted himself and Peña doesn’t strike you as the type to bestow little gifts to a secretary that he barely knows and speaks to in passing. Which leaves the Colombian police officers that surround you. And that suspect pool is quite large.

Trujillo is a common face in this area of the office, working closely with Colonel Carrillo. And even though you’ve had personable conversations with him, they’ve remained professional and distant. And he’s been the friendliest officer you’ve interacted with so your options are very broad as to who is your secret admirer. You pick up another piece of fruit, an uchuva, a small yellow berry, and smile. Whoever it is, they’re scoring some major points with their thoughtfulness. 

***

Carrillo has no idea what he’s doing. 

It’s been years since he’s attempted to get a woman to notice him. The last time his eyes were set on a potential companion, her father decided that she was better suited for an officer with a higher rank and so he lost his Juliana to a then lieutenant colonel. He wonders how her father feels now that he’s a colonel and head of the specialized group tasked to track down Escobar. He hadn’t thought of pursuing a romantic entanglement since he lost her. 

But then you walked in, on loan from the United States Army, to help organize the information that came flooding in from the various wiretaps and sat phone calls. You sat hours on end everyday, listening to those calls, transcribing the conversations, and deciding what was helpful and what was just everyday talk. You had been here for three weeks, new to the country, new to the job, but had dug in with a determination that he rarely saw, even from his own men. 

He listens to the wiretaps too. He hears his men talk about their fear for their lives and their families. He hears them doubt what is the right thing to do. He hears them cave to their fear and help the narcos. He understands why they do it but he can’t abide by it. He sifts through his officers like farmers sift through their crop: keep the good pieces and discard the rotten ones. It’s making him distant from his emotions and his desire to be around people. He’s becoming weary of sizing up everyone he encounters to see if they’re a threat or an ally. 

He listens to your phone conversations too. Even though you are a US citizen, part of the deal is that any American is subject to the same transparency as the Colombian army and police force. You signed off on that waiver of privacy and so he listens to your conversations with zero guilt. That is until he realizes he has heard your voice so much that he can recognize it with as much accuracy as he can Escobar’s. That is when he realizes there is something intriguing about you. 

He has your voice memorized so he moves on to studying your appearance and routine. You arrive ten minutes early every morning, dressed neatly and with care, with jeans and a nice blouse. The only thing that confuses him are the worn Converse sneakers you always wear. Jewelry is limited to simple earrings and a necklace; you don't wear any rings on your hands or bracelets on your wrists. Your posture is straight as you sit at the dented, metal desk in the main office area. 

Whenever you come across an officer that is giving information or making arrangements to receive bribes from the cartel, you would bring the file and tape to him at the end of the business day. It is the only time that you darken his door. He would take the items from you and note the sad look in your eye when they left your hand, like you were responsible for the breach of conduct. You are a lovely combination of beauty, efficiency, and empathy. And you have caught his attention. Now what? 

Is there a difference between catching a criminal and catching a paramour? 

He goes back to listening to the phone conversations, mostly with your sister and mother. You talk about the various things that you’ve discovered that are unique to Colombia: flowers, foods, and drinks in particular. You’ve recently started talking about books you want to read now that the newness of everything is starting to fade and you can concentrate on a hobby. You mention authors like Gabriel Garcia Marquez with his famous One Hundred Years of Solitude, but then mention how you want a more authentic social commentary and had recently bought a used copy of The Vortex by José Eustacio Rivera. If you wanted an authentic social commentary on just how greed-fueled the rubber industry was, you certainly picked a good book. 

The conversation turns to family updates and he stops listening in to convince himself he’s giving you some semblance of privacy. He takes out a small notebook and makes a note to bring his copy of Las Estrellas son Negras by Arnoldo Palacios to leave on your desk tomorrow. The book isn’t uplifting in any sense of the word but it is considered to be classic, albeit an unpopular one. If you’re wanting to read something deep, and if you do end up enjoying The Vortex, then you should like Palacios’ book. 

While he’s thinking about the novels, something comes to mind concerning the rubber manufacturing in the jungle. There had been some aerial shots of a possible drug lab in one of the many overgrown spaces between Medellín and Bogotá that he wanted to look over again. They weren’t on his desk any more, or any of the other desks in the room so he heads over to the file room where they’ve most likely been returned. He passes by your desk but you’re not there, maybe on your lunch break, but he notices some of the fruit is already missing. 

The file room door is propped open which immediately annoys him. The room is supposed to be locked both with an old fashioned key lock and an electronic passcode, not propped open with a…shoe? He makes a disgusted noise as he kicks it out of the doorway and goes into the room. As soon the door clicks shut, someone drops a file and goes running for the door. 

“No, no, no, no…” 

It’s you. 

And you’re missing a shoe. 

“Damn it!” You hit the door with an open palm and turn towards him, ready to unleash a severe reprimand until you realize it’s him. Most of your fury dissolves into contrition as you take in a deep breath. “Buen día, coronel.” (Good day, Colonel.) 

“Buen día, señorita.” (Good day, miss.) He waits to see if you’re going to say anything else but your eyes are trying to look at anywhere in the room but him. They finally settle on your feet: one still encased in the converse sneaker while the other is bare. Your toenails are painted a light pink. “Am I to understand that was your shoe holding the door open?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Your formalness stings slightly until he realizes that you don’t know he’s been listening in to your conversations, gathering information, and then providing you with the little gifts on your desk. Perhaps he should stop. Perhaps you would have no interest in him whatsoever. Perhaps there is someone else, if not here in Colombia than back in the States. 

Perhaps, it’s just not meant to be. 

However, isn’t that what giving a gift is all about: you give with no expectation of receiving something in return? 

***

You can’t believe your luck. Not only are you indefinitely locked in the file room but it is with the head of the Search Bloc, Colonel Horacio Carrillo. This also happens to be the person at the top of your suspect lists for leaving the gifts at your desk. And you’re not sure how to feel about it. 

He’s not your boss, per say, that would be the US Army and you’re of a low enough rank no one pays you any mind back at the Embassy so dating a local wouldn’t cause any disturbances. Lord knows Peña gets away with it all the time. But Carrillo is in charge of the special unit that you’re assisting so that throws the line of conduct into some shade. Secondly, you hardly know him. He rarely speaks about himself, his personal life, and he’s here so often you wonder if he even has a personal life. Married to a job, especially one like this, does not check any boxes on the dating checklist. 

However, he is respectful to all those around him. You wouldn’t use the word kind, even though the thoughtfulness of the gifts would give you some evidence for using that word. He treats his men well, checks on them, prays through the rosary with them before particularly dangerous raids, and shares in the workload. His treatment of the Americans in the Search Bloc is the same as that of his own men. You’ve also noted that he treats the women in the office, you included, with the same expectations as his men: do your job well, he’s pleased and will let you know; do it poorly, and you can go elsewhere. 

Now you wonder if that’s his current thoughts of you, missing one shoe and having just displayed an unprofessional burst of anger. You try to recenter yourself and gain some semblance of competency. “The locks are broken on the door.” 

One of his eyebrows ticks up at the comment. “Both of them?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He moves closer to the door and you step away from it, having a good idea what is about to come next. Sure enough, he tries kicking the door open but it doesn’t even budge. You raise a finger hesitantly to prevent him from kicking it harder and hurting himself. 

“Um, the electronic lock is actually a double deadbolt.” 

The kick to the door did alert someone walking past that there is an issue as someone called out on the other side. “¿Quién está ahí?” (Who’s in there?) 

Carrillo yells back both his name and yours as the officer says he’s getting help for them. Your brain has stuttered to a halt and he must notice because a quizzical look crosses his face. 

“What?” 

“You remember my name.” 

The confused look changes into something that looks akin to shame before he turns away. “I know everyone’s name in the unit. Wouldn’t be much of a leader if I didn’t.” 

You suppose that is true and the thought that he knew it because he liked you dissipates. You go back a couple rows to the file that you dropped in your mad dash to try to stop the door from closing. He follows you, at a respectful distance though, but then helps pick up the spilled contents of the file. As he looks at the pictures, he laughs slightly. 

“I was actually looking for these pictures,” he tells you. 

“Oh, really?” You take the rest of the file over to the small window where there’s some light. They’re aerial shots of an abandoned rubber plant in the jungle. Or at least it looks abandoned. “I wanted to look at them again to see if there’s anything we missed that might give away something about it being used.” 

He stands next to you in the light and looks at the pictures in his hands. “I feel like we are missing something.” 

There’s no table in the room so you put the pictures down on the floor and sit down there to look at them. He does the same and soon both your heads are down, studying the pictures. You watch his hands as he drags his fingers over the photos, looking at each grainy detail for something. He isn’t wearing a wedding band. 

And speaking of examining details, your eyes can’t help but drift up from his hands to the strong, exposed forearms, the shifting of his biceps under the sleeves of his green fatigues. You probably couldn’t wrap your whole hand around his upper arm but now you kind of want to try. You had to admit, as intimidating as Carrillo is, he is also quite handsome with his sharp, coffee colored eyes and straight nose. 

There is a part of you that wishes he is the one that is leaving those gifts. You can’t just outright ask him, he’ll most likely deny it if you do. So you need to get it out of him without him realizing it. He’s a skilled interrogator, at least according to Peña, but you do have a slight advantage: he’s not going to expect you to be gathering information from him. Besides, you do like a challenge. 

Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a couple of the uchuvas, the small orange colored berries, and pop one in your mouth. When Carrillo’s eyes flick up to yours to see what you’re doing, you hold one out to him. He takes it with a wry smile. 

“Careful, we may have to ration these.” 

“I have a few more.” You wait until he’s focused again on the surveillance pictures before you speak again. “You know, I would love to know where you got those cocadas. The chocolate ones in particular were wonderful.” 

He hums distractedly. “There’s a bakery two blocks from here that carries them.” 

Okay, that answer doesn’t confirm or deny anything. Damn. Maybe it’s not him then and the slight disappointment that settles in your stomach is surprising. You had wanted it to be him. You go back to looking at the pictures and notice something: the electrical box on the outside of the building. You shuffle through past pictures, taken a week before, and find it: evidence. It’s small, barely noticeable, but it’s there. 

“Look,” you put both pictures down in front of Carrillo. “The electrical box had vines and dirt on it two weeks ago, but a week later, the vines are cut back and it's been cleaned.” 

“There it is,” he says with a satisfied smile. “Evidence to support a raid. Well done.” 

You can’t help the wide smile that erupts across your face. 

A voice from the door shouts to you two. “¿Coronel?” (Colonel?) 

“Sí.” (Yes.)

“Deberíamos sacarte en veinte minutos.” (We should have you out in twenty minutes.) 

“Gracias, Trujillo.” (Thank you, Trujillo.) 

You start gathering up the pictures and put them back into the folder, handing the collected papers and pictures to Carrillo. He takes it with a small smile. 

“I wonder what other mysteries we could solve in the next twenty minutes,” he says looking around at the boxes of files surrounding you both. 

You sit back against the shelf behind you. “I actually have a mystery that I would like to solve.” 

He nods, his facial features schooled behind a mask of indifference. “Okay.” 

The question about the cocadas didn’t reveal anything so you try another approach. “I think someone is listening in on my calls.” 

“That’s expected when you work in this unit.” 

“Oh, I understand that. That’s not what bothers me.” You specifically use the word “bothers” to make it sound like it’s making you uncomfortable. Knowing how much he respects those who work in the unit, the thought of his actions making anyone uncomfortable will not sit well with him. And judging from the small frown and minute shifting he’s done, you’re right. 

“What is bothering you then?” 

He sounds so disappointed when he asks that question, you want to hug him and tell him that you know it’s him and to please not stop because it's the sweetest thing that anyone has ever done for you. So you choose your next words even more carefully. 

“I’m bothered by the fact that I can’t thank them for their thoughtfulness. Whoever is listening to my conversations is picking up on the things that I want to see, like the orchid, or try, like the fruit and the coffee. I’m particularly excited to see what book appears tomorrow.” You pause for a moment. “Do you have a favorite book, Colonel Carrillo?” 

His face is still smooth of emotion. “I do.” 

“What’s the title?” 

“I guess you’ll just have to wait until tomorrow when I put it on your desk.” 

“So it is you.” 

“It is.” He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “If you would like me stop-” 

“No,” you cut him off. “Please don’t. It’s very nice, very kind.” 

“As are you.” He sits up straighter. “Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner tonight?” 

“I would love that. I’m going to have to ask my boss if I can leave a little early and he’s kind of a stickler for the job coming first though.” 

A slow smile spreads across his face. “Let me chat with him. I’m sure we can work something out.” 

“I don’t know, he can be quite a hard ass.” 

“So I’ve heard.” 

You both laugh quietly when the sound of a power drill comes from the door. Most likely they’re trying to dismantle the keypad to manually disengage the deadbolts. Carrillo stands up and reaches down to help you to your feet. Your hand slides easily into his as he tugs you upright. For the briefest moment you think he’s going to kiss you, he’s standing so close and your hands are still clasped together. But then the keypad drops heavily to the floor and startles you both back to the present. Your hands untangle, he picks up the file from the floor, and you both put your professional masks back in place. 

“Would seven be a good time for you tonight?” he asks quietly. 

“Yes, that would be perfect.” 

“I’ll meet you outside your apartment.” 

You can’t help but grin at the thought but quickly tamper down the butterflies in your stomach as the deadbolt lock pops and the door swings open. Carrillo motions for you to go first and as you do, Murphy hands you your sneaker. 

“Cinderella.” 

“Thank you, Agent Murphy.” 

Carrillo nods to Trujillo. “See if we can get that fixed before the year is out.” 

“Yes, Colonel.” 

Peña has a downright devious look on his face as he studies yours. “So…what happened?” 

You put your shoe back on, leaning down the tie the laces. “We did what you were supposed to be doing…working.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“I’m serious,” you point to Carrillo’s office. “We found evidence for a raid at an old rubber factory in the jungle. Go.” 

He shrugs before moving off in the office’s direction. “I want details.” 

“There are no details, asshole.” Well, no details yet at least. 

Murphy shakes his head. “Come on, Javi, it’s Carrillo. Can you picture him dating anyone, let alone picking out orchids and sweets?” 

“I guess you’re right.” Peña pauses before walking into the office and points at Trujillo who just passed in front of him. 

You shrug your shoulders in a “maybe” response, throwing Trujillo under the speculation bus. You’ve just reached your desk when Carrillo comes to his office door to close it and calls over to you. 

“Why don’t you head home a little early?” 

“Are you sure?” 

He gives you a slightly stern look that says “I thought we discussed this already?” 

“Thank you, sir.” You pick up the bowl of fruit before heading out the door to get ready for dinner. You need to make sure there’s some cleared space for tomorrow’s offering. 

#colonel horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x you #horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo #narcos fic #hinky writes #horacio carrillo fic

[flightlessangelwings]

Ktober 2023 Day 31- Free choice

Fee use orgy with the Narcos boys

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

Word count- 2.9k

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re doing so well, querida.”

“That’s it, just a little bit more.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright?” Javier asked.

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

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

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

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

#fawktober2023 #kinktober #javier peña #javier peña x reader #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x reader #steve murphy #steve murphy x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #haracio carrillo x you #steve murphy x you #colonel carrillo x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fic #Javier Peña fanfic #javier peña imagine #horacio carrillo imagine #steve murphy imagine #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #narcos fanfic #steve murphy fanfiction #horacio carrillo fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña narcos #horacio carrillo narcos

[freakazoidfuc]

Curiosity Killed the Cat

Javier Peña x F! Informant Reader

Summary: Javi had gone out on a bust, he told you to wait for him in the safety of his room. You saw something shiny poking from his side table drawer and got interested.

-first time writing full-out smut, sorry if it's not that good. Some mistakes bc i didn’t edit it sorry!!

+18 smut warning

word count: 4k

You’re walking into the cafe where you were set to meet La Quica. All you have to do is get him to tell you where Pablo is going to be tomorrow, and you’re not nervous at all. You’ve done this for about a year or so, and it’s become second nature. As soon as you walk in La Quica spots you, but you’ve spotted the other sicarios he has placed around the cafe, they didn’t even hide the guns they have tucked into their waistbands. He nods you over, and you strut over not failing to notice how they all have their eyes on you. Hey, it comes with the job, you have to wear skinny jeans and tight tops, to blend in with the rest of the women in Colombia.       

“Quihubo y/n que mas?” Quica asks you how you are. “Ya sabe aqui esperando ordenes del jefe”. You tell him that you’re just waiting on orders from Pablo. You try to get to the point, not wanting to spend any minute more than you have to. He reaches to brush a strand of hair out of your face, and you try not to flinch away from his touch. “Que pasa linda? La veo nerviosa?”.

His menacing tone makes it seem like he knows you’re up to something. You just laugh it off, and you brush your fingers along his shoulder and sweetly ask him if he’s gonna tell you what you have to do. “Que va pasar Quica? Me va decir lo que tengo que hacer o que?”. Your sweeter tone makes him ease up a bit, they’re so easy it’s laughable. “Ah bueno, mas le vale. Mire mañana va llegar un delivery de Miami, Pablo quiere que usted vaya con Limon al aeropuerto a recibir El Leon, la plata se la dan cuando El Leon ya este aqui en Bogota”.

Pablo wants you to go to the airport to pick up one of his men that works for him in Miami and you aren’t going alone, you’re going with Limón. He’s a recently added worker, you’d seen him around in the market with Maritza. Poor guy doesn’t know what he got himself into. You slide Quica a paper with the address of where to have Limón pick you up. “No se tarde, ya sabe como es el jefe. Hasta despues linda”. He tips up your chin while he gets up. You give him a sweet smile as you watch him leave with the group of men that were scattered around. 

“It’s clear y/n, you can head out. We’re just round the corner”. Javier’s rich deep voice fills your ears. In the car, you find Steve, Carrillo, and Javier, they were all listening to your conversation, and what you didn’t know but learned later was that they had set up cameras in the shop and watched everything. Carrillo spoke first once you got in, “Nice work y/n, we’ll be at the location you gave him. When you hear the signal, get out as quick as possible. We don’t want you involved with what will go down”. You nod your head “gracias colonel, do you want me in a specific place after?”. As soon as your last word went through Javier spoke up. “You’ll go straight to my place, understood?”.

As hard as you tried to deny it, you couldn’t anymore. Hearing Javi talks to you in that demanding voice did dangerous things to you. You had messed around with him in the beginning but you mutually decided it was best to keep things professional. It was really hard to keep things professional with him. The way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you, and how he tried to sneak touches, it drove you crazy. Javier knew what he was doing, he loved seeing the way you’d blush when you caught him looking at you, he loved how the hairs on your arm would rise when he “accidentally” brushed his fingers along your arms. You looked up at him with a questioning look on your face but you decided not to question him. Especially not when Carrillo and Steve were here. “Yes sir”. 

You had no idea how the bust went down. As soon as you heard the signal to move, you did. You started to run till a cop car passed you and beeped. It was Trujillo, “Peña dio ordenes a llevarte al apartamento de el”.  You got in the car with him and drove in silence until you got to his apartment. “La puerta esta abierta, suerte y/n”. He let you know that Javier left the door open. “Gracias Trujillo”. 

You’re in his apartment and it’s exactly as you expected, it’s a bit messy with beer bottles scattered along his kitchen and ashtrays on every table. You walk into his room and are not surprised again when it’s the same deal. Beer, cigarettes, and a spare gun you imagine on his bedside table. His bed was messily made like he was in a rush this morning. The beautiful Colombian sun spilled through the windows into the room, making it hotter than comfortable. You felt your already tight light yellow top cling to your skin. Your skinny jeans stick to your skin like glue. It was safe to say you felt extremely uncomfortable.

You thought to take off your clothes for just a bit to cool yourself off. So you remove your high heels, peel off your jeans and unbutton your top. Looking at your watch and it being a while since you left, you thought that they’re probably gonna take a bit longer so you decide to relax a bit and lay on his bed. It felt so naughty to be in Javi’s bed just in your unbuttoned shirt, no pants, just your lacy pink bra, and matching underwear.

Your mind wandered to what Javier had done in his bed before, if he’s ever thought of you late at night while touching places you’d only wish he’d let you touch. You thought if he’s ever accidentally said your name while doing things that made your belly swirl. You shook your head, feeling your underwear getting wet. You sat up with your arms placed behind you, letting your eyes wander until they spotted something shiny poking from his drawer. Your curiosity got the best of you and you got up to see what it was. You carefully opened the drawer and saw handcuffs with the key right beside them. Before being an informant, your life was normal in Colombia. You had gone to school to learn English, you worked at a cafe and life was simple. Naturally, you had never gotten handcuffed and you had always wondered what it was like. You thought you’d do it quickly and unlock yourself before Javier got back. 

“Fuck”. It seems like you didn’t think this through. While the notion of you putting on the handcuffs was easy, you made the mistake of not taking the key out of the drawer before locking your hands together. You tried lifting your hand but you just could get them in the drawer. While attempting to get the keys you heard the door open. Double fuck, your eyes widened and you quickly scrambled to his bed and sat with your back facing the door. “Y/n?” 

His footsteps get closer to the room and you start to panic a bit, I mean what’s the worse thing he could do? Laugh at You? Or maybe he’d be mad that you even went into his room, which you can understand because you’d let curiosity get the best of you and now you’re handcuffed and sitting on his bed half naked. You were so in your mind that you hadn’t even heard Javi enter the room. As soon as he saw you he paused and confusion ran across his face. “What are you doing?” 

Your mind scrambles with what to say. “Oh just looking out your window”

Javier just hums and heads toward you. He notices your jeans and shoes on the floor. “Why are your clothes on my floor y/n”. While you couldn’t see him, you didn’t have to, you know that he had that stupid smirk on his face, that smirk that always had you clenching your legs together whenever you caught a glimpse of it. “It got hot?”. You were so nervous that it came out more as a question than a statement. You felt him close to you but you didn’t have the guts to look up at him.

Javi was already standing in front of you. Taking in the sight of you. Everything in front of him looked like one of his wet dreams. While you had no idea, Javier had been aching to touch you again. When “yes sir” came out of your mouth yesterday, it had him lose control. He went home that day with your sweet voice answering back to his orders in his mind. Javier couldn’t get you out of his head, not only because of your words but because you just looked so damn good yesterday that he truly doesn’t know how he kept himself under control. Those jeans you had on yesterday fit you so well, they did wonders for your ass and you knew it, more of the reasons why you wore them. Javi bends down in front of you, he places his calloused hands on your knees and slightly caresses them.

“Look at me bonita”.

And you did exactly that because you can’t simply defy him. He brushes the loose strands that had come in front of your face behind your ear, once your face comes into his view he smirks at you. “There’s that pretty face, so what happened here y/n?” He slightly smacked the side of your thigh. “I got bored of waiting for you Javi, and I saw the handcuffs I had never been handcuffed, obviously and I wanted to see what it felt like, but then I forgot to take out the key before and then you came and I got scared that you were gonna be mad at me”. There it was that nervous babble that you hated so much, you felt your face heat up out of embarrassment. Then you heard the beautiful chuckle, it was low and just so good, that you wanted to hear it again. He caressed your face. “I’m not mad bonita”, your eyes brows shot up in surprise. “You’re not?” 

“Of course not, I could never be mad at you” 

“Besides how could I be mad, when I’ve come home to you looking like this?” His hands start to roam your bare skin, and soft whimpers are released from your mouth. You’ve longed for him touching like this, he has no idea how much this is affecting you. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to touch you like this?”. You just shook your head, you had a slight inkling he was interested in you but that was it. “Ever since you walked in that first day, with that sundress that drove me absolutely wild” Then he started to press soft kisses on your things, “that day I wanted to snatch you up, and have you all to myself”. 

“Javier-”. You moans his name softly, the soft touches driving you crazy. He’s so close to where you want him. “Those kisses we shared didn’t fill me y/n, I still needed more. Now I find you handcuffed, half naked, and sitting all pretty on my bed? I’m going to do things to you linda, things that have been on my mind since yesterday” 

At this point, you’re breathing heavily, you just want him to touch you already. “You want that baby?”

You nod your head, not trusting your words but he’s not having it. He’s shaking his head. He places his hands around your jaw and grips your face close to his. “Usa tus palabras princesa” 

“Yes Javi, just- just do it already” 

You aren’t sure who initiated first but you felt his soft lips slot in between yours. His hand moved down to your throat and his other gripped your waist bringing you closer. He kissed like he’s been dying for this. Javier can’t keep his hands off you and you couldn’t be any happier. 

His hand grips your throat tighter which causes you to slip a moan out and he takes that chance to slip his tongue in and tangle it with yours. He groans into your mouth. With your handcuffed hands you try to touch him but you can’t. You break the kiss. “Javi, please let me out of these” you whine. His eyes light up with mischief, and he pouts. “No baby, this is your punishment” 

Your brows drew together, “my punishment?” he hummed and pushed your legs open, he pushed you’re back so now you’re laying on your back. He’s hovering over you and goes into presses kisses on your neck and below your ear on that sweet spot that drives you crazy. You’re panting like crazy just wanting him in you. “Punishment for touching Quica, for letting him touch you and call you bonita. You don’t know how much I wanted to go in there and shoot every fucker that looked at you when you walked in. Staring at your ass and thinking things they shouldn’t. I want to cut off his hand for ever laying his hands on what’s mine” Javier sounded and looked genuinely mad, You didn’t even know he could see what was going on inside. “Nadie te toca, escuchaste y/n” His jaw was clenched and his pupils were fully dilated. “Si Javier”.  

“No, Not Javier. Yes, what y/n?” 

At first, you didn’t understand but then you got it, “Yes, sir”. 

“Good girl, now let me get back to what’s mine, okay bonita?” 

He was kissing the swells of your breasts and he muttered something along the lines of “too many clothes” he ripped open your bra and placed his warm mouth on your nipple and started nipping and sucking. His hand playing with the other. You moan in pleasure. He moves his mouth to the other and his other hand starts to roam down to your underwear. He runs his finger along your clothes slit. It has you flinch at the sensation. He moves his mouth back to your lips and kisses you with so much force that you can feel his mustache scratching you and it feels so good to you. He slides your underwear to the side and slides his fingers through your lips and he breaks the kiss to groan, “so wet for me already y/n, my poor baby how long have you been like this? Don’t worry, I’m gonna make you feel so good you’ll forget about the times I wasn’t here eating you up.” Javier does just that he moves his mouth down all the way down to where you want him the most. He prepares you by kissing the inner of your thighs. “Javi please, i- I need you, just please do it already” You didn’t care if you sounded desperate, you’d beg him until he did it, but luckily you didn’t have to beg anymore because his mouth latched to your cunt, feeling his hot mouth sucking on your clit had you throwing your head back, moaning profanities and mixing in his name. He was eating you like this was the last time and you really hoped it wasn’t. His tongue going up and down, this sucking your slit then back to licking everything up. Javier was hungry for you and he wasn’t going to waste any of you. He brings his finger and starts tracing it up and down. A loud whimper escapes your lips n you feel his thick finger pressing into you, he pumps it in and out, curling it and finding your sweet spot. He increases his pace as your moans and whimpers increase. When you get louder he adds another finger, going at a pace that has clamped down on his fingers. You know that sensation. The swirl in your belly is getting too much to handle. His mouth and fingers are doing amazing things to you, you’ve never felt this good before. His groans vibrate through your cunt, making you desperately moan his name. He sucks your clit harder and you feel yourself unraveling, Javi takes the time to lap up every drop of cum, not letting any go to waste. He lifts his head and you see the glimmer of your arousal on his face making you blush, he licks his lips and places one of his arms right by your head, he brings his fingers and brings them to your lips, “I knew you were going to taste good, but princesa you taste so fucking good. Open for me baby”. You open your mouth and suck the juices off his fingers, swirling your tongue around and sucking them clean. 

“Javi” you breathed out. “Please let me touch you, I promise no one’s touching me but you, te lo prometo Javier, solo tu”. 

He lets you out of the handcuffs and once your hands are free you stand up. “What are you doing-” 

“Javi, shh let me do this” You push him onto the bed, He sits with his legs spread wide which already have you a mess. You place your hands on his knees caressing them up and down, then you move up to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off him. Your mouth starts kissing his chest, touching what you couldn’t before. “Don’t be a tease babe, keep this up, and ill just have to fill you with my dick and fuck you till you’re all the way up with my cum”. 

Javier had a way with his words. Hearing his dirty talk spurred something in you. You stopped the small soft touches and went for his pants. You palmed him through his jeans feeling hard he was for you, You unblocked his belt and unbuttoned his pants. Javi helped you pull his pants down. His dick sprang up and that’s when you noticed he was commando. Your hands softly grabs his dick and he groans at the way you’re touching him. “Did you think this was going to happen Javi? Hm?” 

You move your mouth to his shaft and press a gentle kiss before you wrap your mouth around his tip. That groan you longed to hear was let out from his lips. You begin to swirl your tongue around his tip, collecting the precum and tasting him. You had a feeling  Javi was big but you didn’t expect him to be this big. You brought your hand to the bottom of his dick and started to go up and down all in sync with your mouth, applying the right pressure. “Fuck baby, you’re doing so good for me”. His praise only made you go faster. He was groaning so much in pleasure you felt so happy that you were able to make him feel this good. Javier gripped a handful of your hair and made you go deeper in, “c’mon y/n, take me all the way in, I want to feel the back of your throat”  

He pushes your head all the way down, and you feel his tip touch the back of your throat, You were swallowing him. Javi let you back up and you gasped for air but you went back in with determination. Started to lick that sweet spot you knew every guy had. You felt his dick twitch and put his dick back into your mouth. You felt the hot spurts of cum in your mouth. Tasting all of him in your mouth. “That’s it, mama, swallow all of it, you did so good y/n”. You swallowed every drop of his cum. Licked every bit you could and his dick sprung out of your mouth with a pop. Javier sits up and uses his thumb to clean the side of your mouth where some cum had dripped out. He brings his thumb to his mouth and licks it off. 

You climb onto his lap, kiss the shell of his ear, and whisper “Javi, I need you in me. Please” 

“Yeah? You need me to fill you up?” 

“Yes, oh god, yes please” You clench around nothing, just at the fact that you’ll finally get to have him in you. Javi lines up his dick to your entrance. You slowly start to push yourself down on him, Only the tip has gone in and the stretch hurt, but it hurts so good your grab onto his shoulders. “Relajate preciosa” he murmurs and waits until you adjust, Javier grips your waist and pushes you down until you’ve taken all of him. 

“You feel so good Javi” you choke out. 

Right now he’s just letting you get used to him. But you start to grow impatient. You start to move a bit to create that friction you crave. A smirk appears on Javier’s face, he finally has you where he wanted you for so long. 

“Javier, muevete, I need you to move.. Porfavor”. His hands are already on your waist moving you up and bringing you down hard. His hands gripping so tight to keep you in place while he hammers into you. His hips move up to meet yours. The sound of skin smacking together spurs both of your pornographic moans. He turns you so fast you don’t even realize you’re on your back and he’s on top of you. 

“Look at you baby, you look so good under me like this” 

He is back to thrusting into you, His pace is relentless and yummy. With every thrust, he hits that sweet spot. He brings his fingers to your clit. Rubbing it in the perfect motion, going in delicious perfect moans that have you screaming his name. 

“Fuck, Javi keep going”, “You feel so fucking good Javi” 

He leans down to kiss you hard. “I’ve wanted this so long Javi” 

“Yeah? How long have you thought of me?” he thrust harder and harder. His fingers circled my clit relentlessly 

“Too long” 

You feel yourself gripping him, your belly swirling with that feeling from before. It’s like he senses it. “Let it go, baby” 

And you do just that, You cum, drenching his dick with your cum. You cum so hard you feel it drip down your thighs. “So good, You did so good for me y/n, you love being a good girl for me, yeah?” 

You’ve cummed but he doesn’t stop, he goes faster than before, the sensitivity making it too much but you let it happen. His thrust starts to get sloppy and you feel him twitch in you. “Im going to fill up your cunt so deep that it will be dripping out of you for days, reminding you who did that and who you belong to” He voice hoarse and deep. His hot cum shoots into you, and your cunt grips him. Milking all of his cum into you. He holds his dick in there. Not letting any of his drips out of you. You feel so full of him that it turns you on so much. Javiers leaned his forehead on you, his breaths getting back to normal. You feel his dick softening in you. You bring your hands up into his hair. Gently tug on the strands binging his mouth to yours. This time the kiss is different. It’s not rough and hungry like before. It’s soft and passionate. He breaks the kiss and peppers kisses all over you. You start to laugh at his playfulness. “Javi stop that tickles” 

You see him get up, and he gets a washcloth and cleans you up. Still a bit sensitive you flinch when he presses it along your slot. He gives you an apologetic smile. Then you go back to the bed and presses your body next to his, His arm around you bringing you in close. He kisses your temple and starts caressing your hair. 

“You did so good for me hermosa, I don’t know how I survived so long without you”  

#pedro pascal #horacio carrillo #javier peña #javier peña x reader #narcos #javier peña smut #javier pena x reader #javi x reader #javier peña x y/n #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fic #javier peña fic

[cheesybadgers]

Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 21)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

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Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 7,356

Summary: After arriving in Manizales, Horacio introduces Javier to his family, leading to a long overdue heart-to-heart and a drinking game with a twist.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Discussions of coming out, grief, parental loss, canon-typical violence, allusions to period-typical prejudices, drinking game, smoking, swearing.

Notes: Firstly, I will soften the blow of leaving it so long since my last update with the news that chapter 22 will be posted within the next week or so! I decided to split it in half to give more space to the conversations between the characters. So, hopefully that will make up for my elongated silence lol.

Secondly, I finished drafting the rest of the fic at the end of last year 👀 So, I just need to complete editing on chapter 23 and the epilogue. Then, and I can't believe I'm actually saying this, it will be time to leave these two messy idiots to it.

I think it will take me some time to get my head around it coming to an end, not least of all because it's been almost 3 years since I started working on this behemoth. And I can't believe how much has happened/changed since then, yet my love for this ship and this story has stayed strong and close to my heart. So, a bit of a premature thank you to anyone who has supported it at any point since March 2021, it's been quite the emotional rollercoaster ❤️ As always, I love hearing from my readers, so feel free to drop me a comment/message!

I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested.

Chapter 21: For Old Times' Sake

A haze of mist hung low on the horizon, clinging to the rolling waves of verdant peaks that bled seamlessly together with worn asphalt until it was impossible to tell where the sky began and the earth ended.

Luckily, the tyres of the hire car were built for rougher terrain, and it wasn’t the first time Horacio had driven this route. Admittedly, it would have been easier to fly. But this had the added benefit of giving Javier a taste of undiscovered territory.

If truth be told, it gifted them more time to mentally prepare for what was getting closer with every hour that passed, each stop off to admire the view and refresh a stubborn way to prolong the status quo.

Progress had been slow for the last hour as the congested traffic crawled along the sharp angles of the road with its treacherous drops only a few inches away. They had come to a standstill behind a bus that allowed passengers off to take photos, and with little room to manoeuvre around the vehicle, a trail of cars had no choice but to wait.

Javier lounged back in the passenger seat, one foot resting on the opposite knee, his elbow leaning on the door, and the window half open.

He watched Horacio’s hands on the steering wheel alternate between clenching and tapping, a particular kind of rigidity returning to his jaw for the first time in months – if not years.

Javier made an executive decision by reaching into the glove box. He pulled out an emergency pack of cigarettes and a lighter they had stashed away before setting off from Medellín.

He lifted one out of the pack and sparked up. “So, did you say it’s a farm we’re heading to?” There was no point asking the obvious, so distraction it was.

“A coffee farm on the outskirts of the city, yeah. It belongs to Fabián’s family. He and his brother, Santiago, do the bulk of the work now their father’s winding down.”

“Sounds nice. And kinda familiar.”

Horacio’s eyes finally left the windshield and met Javier’s with a shadow of a smile. “Yeah, it does. A lot hillier than Texas, though.”

“Well, that wouldn’t be hard.” Javier held out his smoke across the car, their first one that wasn’t post-coital in a long time. But needs must.

Horacio apparently agreed as he accepted it with a huff of resignation. “Fine, one for the road.”

“I think it’s allowed on roads like this one.”

“I did warn you.”

“Hey, no, I like it. Keeps you on your toes.”

“It reminds me of when Papá drove us to visit Tia Salomé and Tio Jairo in Bogotá. He and Mamá let us have sweets for the long journey but warned us the Mareco would take them away if we didn’t behave.”

“The Mareco?”

“La Leyenda del Mareco. It was a story we were told as kids. The Mareco’s a red devil that looks like a lizard on two legs. He steals children’s candy and conjures up a whirlwind to blow them away if they don’t obey their parents.”

Javier nodded in recognition as Horacio passed their cigarette back. “La Llorona was the story used to scare me and my cousins.”

“Oh yeah, we got that one as well.”

“I gotta say, the Mareco explains a lot.”

“About what?”

“About how you developed a problem with authority.”

“What’s your excuse then?”

“What can I say? I was led astray.”

It was a blatant lie, but Javier didn’t care when it caused laughter lines to materialise in the corner of Horacio’s eyes.

“We both know you were drawn to it as much as you resented it.”

“Only where you were concerned. Anyway, you were just as bad even though you'd never admit it.”

“Maybe you were my exception too.”

A moment of silence fell as memory after memory collided, snapshots of how the push and pull between them had evolved with their relationship.

"Listen, I was thinking,” Javier started before taking a drag, “would it make things easier if you wore this? Just while we’re here, I mean.”

Horacio’s gaze drifted to Javier’s exposed skin, the taillights of the car in front catching on the crucifix at his chest. “No,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s yours now.”

By the time their cigarette was finished, the traffic edged forward, and the road ahead and Javier’s hand on Horacio’s leg soon replaced conversation.

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Two and a half hours and several bursts of heavy rain later, the muddied hire car pulled up by a complex of buildings nestled amongst a sea of lush green and vibrant flowers. The buildings sat atop steep slopes of vegetation that led to the coffee plantations below, the foggy skyline above etched with rugged ridges and the ominous outline of Nevado del Ruiz in the distance.

Any sounds from life on a working coffee farm were drowned out by birdsong and their feet crunching beneath them as Horacio and Javier walked up the gravel path towards the main finca. It was typical in its style with a rustic tiled roof, whitewashed bricks and wooden pillars around its perimeter painted in the same shade of terracotta red as the doors and window frames. At the back of the property was a large garden with a patio area, pool and a spectacular view for miles on a clear day.

As they lugged their suitcases onto the porch, Alejandra waited to greet them at the front door. Her dark hair was styled in a bob with waves bordering on curls, the kind Javier imagined Horacio could grow if he wasn’t so insistent on keeping his hair short. At least since leaving the CNP, he had been less strict about cutting it.

The family resemblance between the two siblings was evident in their facial features, particularly in the shape of their noses, charcoal eyes and Cupid’s bows. But Alejandra was a few inches shorter, and her frame was slimmer on account of not carrying the same muscle as Horacio.

“The wanderer finally returns,” Alejandra announced as she pulled Horacio in for a long hug, neither of them keen to be the first to let go. “At least you remembered how to use the phone before turning up on my doorstep.”

“Of course. It's good to see you. But I am sorry I left it so long. There’s, erm…a lot to catch up on.”

“I’ll say.” She peered curiously behind Horacio. “But first, let me say hello to this handsome new face.”

She all but pushed Horacio to one side, forgoing any formal introductions he might have had planned. All Horacio could do was stand and watch two parts of his life converge that, for a long time, he believed would never – and could never – meet.

Javier had hung back by several feet, his hands self-consciously stuffed into the pockets of his jeans as he kept his eyes on the ground until he was spoken to.

“Hi there, I’m Alejandra. You must be Javier?”

“Oh, er, yeah, hi.” For reasons unbeknownst to Javier, he raised his hand in a stiff wave rather than the relaxed handshake he had planned and felt the heat instantly rise in his cheeks. “Pleasure to finally meet you. Beautiful place you’ve got up here.”

“Likewise. And thanks.” Much to Javier's relief, she took the lead and held out a hand for him to shake with a reassuring smile. “Although you’ve got Fabián to thank for that. He’s down there giving a tour to one of our new buyers.” Alejandra turned back to face Horacio. “Mamá’s shopping for school supplies and tonight’s dessert with Juan José, Sofía and Mateo. Ana María’s out with friends. But they should all be back in the next few hours.”

Horacio nodded but remained taciturn, keeping to himself his strong suspicions that Alejandra had made sure she was the only one to greet them upon arrival.

“Come on, you can show Javier around whilst I make us something to eat and drink.”

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It had been a long time since Horacio’s last visit, but he could just about remember the layout of the place. He took Javier through the downstairs rooms, moving from the hall to the living areas and then the kitchen, which appeared tidier now than in his dreams.

The décor was all tiled or wooden floors and earthy tones, contrasting against large airy windows that made the landscape outside seem like a part of the finca. Evidence of three generations and two cats was scattered everywhere in the form of toys, games, videos, tapes, books, various coffee products and photographs from over the years. In one corner stood a home altar containing a large crucifix, prayer cards, rosary beads, candles, and a statue of Virgen de Chiquinquirá. In the opposite corner was a shelf full of old vinyl with Lucho Bermúdez taking pride of place, naturally.

Upstairs housed six bedrooms and three bathrooms, on account of the brood of four children, three adults and a spare room. The spare room was their last stop, where they dumped their luggage, sharing an amused glance at the double bed with a smaller fold-out one laid out in the corner with a pile of fresh sheets.

“As your guest, I take it I get the bigger one?” Javier asked with a spark of mischief in his eye.

“Well, technically, I’m also a guest here. And I did do all the driving.”

“Maybe I’ll, er, flip you for it later.”

Horacio merely raised a brow at the suggestion in Javier’s tone before they headed back downstairs.

They sat under cover of the terrace in the wildly growing garden, just in case the rain returned, which was always a distinct possibility in Manizales. An impressive platter of fruits was laid out on the table alongside freshly made coffee.

“So, how was the wedding?” Alejandra asked as she poured from a pot into three cups, the dark, rich aroma diffusing into the same crisp air the beans were grown and harvested.

Horacio accepted a cup with a thanks and passed the other to Javier. “It was nice. Good to see everyone again.”

“How’s Trujillo doing? It’s been strange seeing his face all over the news.”

Rather than his, Horacio thought with a strange lurch to the gut he wasn’t expecting. “He’s doing well; he’s a Major now. He deserves some happiness after everything.”

“He’s not the only one.”

Alejandra gave Horacio a pointed look, one he wasn’t ready to entirely meet, so he reached for a slice of guayaba instead.

“And Javier...I take it this is your first visit to Manizales?” she continued, offering him the fruit tray.

“Thanks. And yeah, it is. Never got the time to explore much beyond Bogotá and Medellín.” That wasn't exactly true, but Javier didn’t think talk of Cartagena or Tolú would be welcome right now.

“Well, I hope it won’t be your last.”

Horacio could feel another look directed his way but pretended not to notice it and sipped on his coffee.

Once they had eaten their weight in fruit, Alejandra had some business calls to make, leaving Javier and Horacio to unpack and freshen up before reconvening to make a start on dinner.

Of course, it had to be sudado de pollo. Horacio and Alejandra worked as a team, issuing sporadic instructions to Javier when necessary. But he was happy listening to them catch up and reminisce.

“That smells amazing already,” Javier said as he finely chopped onions across a wooden board, gesturing to the dishful of chicken thighs that Alejandra had just finished marinating.

“Mamá’s secret blend,” she replied as she set the dish aside to move on to dicing several tomatoes.

“Oh yeah? What would I have to do to get the recipe for that?” Javier reflexively caught Horacio’s eye across the kitchen.

“If we told you, we’d have to kill you.” Horacio shot Javier a warning look that indicated he was only half joking before focusing intently on cutting up a large batch of yuca and potatoes.

“Yeah, not even Fabián knows.”

“Papá never knew either. But he was happy for us or Mamá to make it for him.”

“My Mamá was the same with her Abuela’s morisqueta. Although, not long before she passed, she left me and my Pops the recipe.”

Alejandra paused her knife to look up at Javier, the surprise on her face soon transforming into recognition and sympathy. “I bet it’s delicious. You should make it for us some time.”

Now it was Horacio’s turn to stop, his eyes travelling from Alejandra to Javier and back again as the implication of his sister’s words hung as heavy in the kitchen as the aromatic spices of her marinade.

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Once the chicken and vegetables were all prepped and placed in a pot on the stove, the front door opened and closed, a loud chatter of voices soon filling the hallway.

Before Javier knew what was happening, he was being introduced to the children, shaking hands with Fabián, then kissing Elena’s cheek.

“Welcome, Javier. It’s good to put a face to a name at last,” Elena said, thoroughly taking in his appearance, apparently satisfied with what she saw.

At last. Javier wasn’t sure whether those words put him at ease or made him more nervous, but he managed to push such thoughts behind a smile. “Nice to meet you, and likewise.”

Javier had briefly seen pictures of Horacio’s family in the past. But he, too, spent time studying Elena now that he was close enough to smell the floral notes of her perfume. Neat oval glasses and a mix of dark and light grey hair cut short and choppy framed her sharp features, the shape of her nose and Cupid’s Bow matching those of her children.

“No thanks to this one here, mind you.” Despite her chastisement, Elena embraced her son tightly, reluctant to let go. “I think he’s been hiding from us.”

“You know it wasn’t like that, Mamá.” Although, over his Mamá’s head, Horacio gave Javier a sheepish look that said otherwise. “It is good to see you. And I’m sorry I left it so long.”

Upon greeting his nieces and nephews, Horacio was struck by how much they had all grown up since his last visit. Ana María was the spitting image of her mother. Juan José was several inches taller than Horacio and resembled his father more than ever. And Mateo and Sofía had presumably become resentful of all the matching outfits in their younger years of being twins, going out of their way to dress as differently from each other as possible. Once they had said their obligatory hellos, they scattered around the house and no doubt wouldn’t re-appear until dinner was ready.

Right on cue, when Alejandra brought out steaming and brimming plates full of sudado de pollo, everyone rapidly took their places around the table.

Silence fell as they tucked in, the warmth and comfort of childhood cocooning Horacio from what he knew was inevitable. A welcomed interruption from his thoughts came with a soft brush against his leg, his instincts telling him it was one of the cats issuing their own greeting. But he should have known better.

As they ate and endured the usual family small talk, Javier's foot became Horacio's anchor, subtle and soothing rubs against his ankle unseen under the table. Steady, grounding, home. 

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Horacio carried the last few empty plates to the kitchen, where piles of dishes were already stacked high. He had left Javier with Juan José and Mateo, who were showing off the latest video games they had got for Christmas – and were comfortably beating Javier at them, too.

“I’ll wash; you dry. For old times’ sake,” Alejandra said without looking up from the sink where she was filling the basin with water and suds.

“Okay. On the condition we both tidy everything away afterwards.”

“Deal. You’ll just put it in the wrong place unsupervised anyway.”

Horacio swatted the tea towel he’d picked up in her direction, only for her to retaliate by flicking bubbles in his hair.

“We did okay with dinner, didn’t we? I haven’t made that in a long time,” Horacio said.

“You had a good teacher.”

“So did you.”

“Oh, I know. I think that’s why Papá always loved it. We were all in there somewhere.”

“Like our Christmas tamales.”

“Oh, yeah, he couldn’t get enough of those. Remember we always had to make an extra batch for him to take to work?”

“He said they were to share with his unit, but I’m not sure many made it that far.”

Now they were laughing as they worked in tandem, Alejandra changing the water as Horacio cleared the draining board, ready for the next load.

“Did you ever feel like you let him down?” Horacio asked after a long silence, both siblings seemingly waiting for the other to fill it.

“Of course. You know Papá didn’t approve of Fabián at first, right?”

“What?”

“You must’ve heard the arguments?”

“To be fair, there were plenty of arguments between you and Papá.”

“Yeah, and they were mostly about me daring to marry someone other than a cop.”

“That’s what it was about?”

“Mostly. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Fabián; I just think he had suitors picked out for me. People he knew he could trust.”

“But they got along in the end, didn’t they?”

“Once Papá had got over himself, yeah.” Alejandra let out a nostalgic laugh, which Horacio quickly joined in with. “He could be tough when he wanted to be, but…he meant well,” she settled on. “Once he saw how happy I was and how Fabián had taken after his father with the farm, he came around. It was never personal with Papá. It’s just the way he was.”

“So, you don’t think he’d be disappointed in me…” Horacio paused to swallow, his throat drier than a Texan summer. “For quitting?” he got out eventually.

Alejandra gave Horacio a look he’d seen countless times over the years. One only a big sister could give her little brother when she had to feign ignorance of something she had already discovered for herself. The perks of being the eldest.

“How did you know?”

“Horacio, are you really asking that of someone who has been surrounded by cops all her life?”

Horacio rolled his eyes but let Alejandra have that one unchallenged.

“I thought you might have been discharged on medical grounds, to be honest. I hoped you’d seen sense. Or maybe met someone.”

“I wasn’t discharged, but I negotiated a payout after my injury.”

Alejandra released a self-satisfied hum, a whisp of a smile threatening to break free from the corners of her mouth. “Two out of three’s not bad, I suppose.”

Horacio gulped hard enough for Alejandra to hear; he had no doubt about that. But no words followed, not even when he caught her eye.

“You love him, don’t you?” It wasn’t an accusation or an interrogation. In fact, it was barely even a question.

“Yes.” It caught Horacio off guard how fast he answered. How direct and concise he’d been.

“And he loves you.” There was no pretence of a question mark now, but rather a clarification of a well-established fact. A rite of passage both parties needed to hear.

“He does.”

“Enough to walk away from it all, too.”

Horacio nodded, scared the lump in his throat would give way to something else as his glassy gaze met Alejandra’s.

“His father – Chucho – owns a ranch in Laredo, Texas. That’s where I went after…” he trailed off, not wishing to dwell on the finer details of the ambush. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I hated lying after everything we’ve been through. But I figured the less you and Mamá knew, the safer it was.”

“I had a feeling you’d left Colombia. But Texas?” Alejandra blew out a low whistle. “That’s the part we’ll need to prepare Mamá for.”

“They’re Mexican-American. And the ranch is right on the border by the river.”

“I’d lead with that part if I were you. Not sure you can avoid a lecture about fraternising with Spanish colonisers, though. Twice.”

“I got that the first time I moved over there. But she went quiet when I reminded her Madrid was good enough for Simón Bolívar.”

Alejandra’s shoulders shook in unison with Horacio’s until a comfortable silence fell between them.

“So, you were there a whole year?”

“Just over. I couldn’t do much to help for the first few months – whilst this healed.” Horacio flexed his right arm to prove to Alejandra that everything was back in working order. “But it was good to have a routine eventually.”

“Wait a minute…you worked on the ranch?”

“No need to sound so surprised when you live here. I was actually pretty good at it. And I liked it.” Although Horacio understood and returned his sister’s bemusement because even he had shocked himself.

“No, I’m not. It’s just…oh, Horacio...” Alejandra broke off to bring her hand to his cheek, her brow creased, but her eyes caught between being on the brink of a smile and tears. “Look at you.”

Horacio made a show of wiping away the suds from his cheekbone, hoping he wouldn’t still have an audience afterwards. But no such luck. “It’s not what I expected to happen – any of it. But it just....felt right. I know that probably doesn’t make sense.”

“Actually, it makes perfect sense.”

“Does it?”

“Well, for starters, I can see the appeal. Obviously. Can’t blame you for going for a younger man, either. And taller.”

Horacio rolled his eyes and hoped his face didn’t look as hot as it felt. “Not by that much. On either count.”

“Hey, no judgment from me. But seriously, of course, it makes sense. I know we all used to joke about you being married to your job, but…after Juliana, I did wonder if there was more to it than that.”

“I think burying myself in work killed two birds with one stone.”

“It was killing you.”

“I know.”

“And Papá would have told you the same.”

A hollow laugh escaped Horacio’s throat, Martínez’s words from the wedding still ringing intrusively in his ears. “I’d have been kicked out of the force. He’d have made sure of that. And I wouldn’t have blamed him.”

“Right, because you were the first officer on Colombian soil to commit violence or be used as a political weapon.”

“He was against it, Alejandra. La Violencia was enough for anyone to see in a lifetime.”

But that was just another in a long line of civil wars. Even if his father's life hadn’t been cut short, he would have seen yet another bloody outbreak in which the state did more to perpetuate the death toll than bring peace to the country. And Horacio had plenty of blood on his hands. At least his Papá was spared witnessing that.

“And you don’t think he was ever put in a compromising position back then? You don’t think La Violencia was why he didn’t want the same for you? You won’t remember much, and Mamá and Papá never spoke about it around us, but I got pretty good at listening through doors.”

“He never did talk about it. Even when I was older.”

Not that he really needed to, Horacio conceded. Even though they were kept relatively safe and away from the violence in Medellín compared to other regions of Antioquia – particularly the rural parts – he had heard enough over the years to fill in the blanks.

He remembered his Mamá’s stories of helping the displaced, those who sought refuge in the city. Thousands who had been forced to flee the violence and start over again, often in makeshift housing on the outskirts, the irony never lost on Horacio that one of those neighbourhoods became Comuna 13. But for all his Mamá’s tales and the work she continued to do until she left for Manizales, his Papá never spoke about those years.

“He was protecting you. Like Mamá was with us after he died. Sometimes silence is easier.”

“I know. I get it. Before he died, the cocaine trade hadn’t got going in Colombia yet. It was mostly marijuana. But with FARC around and the gringos spreading their anti-communist propaganda, he knew it was a question of when, not if, another war was coming. I think he hoped things would be different this time.”

“You did what you had to do, Horacio. Just like he did. Just like every generation of our family did to survive. What’s done is done.”

“I’m not sure you’d say that if you knew everything.”

“You think I never heard any of the rumours out here? Or picked up a newspaper once in a while?”

“You never said anything.”

Alejandra shot Horacio a cutting glare, the kind he was an expert at delivering, but only a select few could get away with throwing back at him. “I knew you wouldn’t talk about it even if I asked.”

Horacio scoffed. Touché. “Not all of it was true.”

It was Alejandra’s turn to laugh. “Well, I kinda figured you weren’t dead after you called.”

“I don’t just mean the ambush.”

“I know,” she said briskly.

But Horacio couldn’t ignore the relief in her body language. Even though he understood it, a wave of shame hit him for even planting a seed of doubt in her – his older sister, the mother of his nieces and nephews – mind in the first place.

“But that’s all in the past now,” he concluded, shutting down his own train of destructive thought. “And you’re right; Papá’s not here. But Javier is.”

“So your future’s in Laredo, then.”

“Are you mad?”

“Am I mad that my little brother is finally getting his shit together and is head over heels in love? Oh, yeah, I’m livid.”

An inferno had spread across Horacio’s cheeks, and he struggled to think of a response. But luckily for him, Alejandra wasn’t done yet.

“It’s…safe, though, right? For you both to live together?”

“As safe as anywhere else. Every country has its problems. I’m sure there’ll always be people with something to say. But we’ve been careful.”

“Just promise me you’ll keep being careful.”

“We will, I promise.”

“I can’t guarantee I’ll convince Mamá to visit in the summer, though.”

“That’s fair. But you do think she’ll want to visit?”

“She might be strong, but we know what she lost – what we all lost. So, if there’s a chance for you to share your life with someone as she did with Papá, to be safe – to be happy after everything – yeah, I think she'll want to visit.”

“Do you think Papá would if he could?” Horacio knew it was a loaded grenade of a question and unfair to ask. But he couldn’t help himself.

Alejandra hesitated, seemingly aware she was between a rock and a hard place. “Maybe in his old age. Or if he knew Javier saved your life.”

“How did –?”

She expelled a comedically dramatic sigh. “Keep up, manito. When you called, you told me the DEA came after you that night. I don’t need to hold a badge to guess who that was.”

Horacio was banged to rights once more as he tried to recall the exact information he had relayed to Alejandra in the hours after the ambush; evidently, it was more than he thought.

“He – and his partner, Steve – went against orders and got suspended for helping me and my men.”

“So, they took a leaf out of your book then?”

“Something like that.”

Before Horacio could overthink it, he took a deep breath and told Alejandra everything. From the blackmail to his and Javier’s resignations to their year in Madrid, it all came tumbling out whilst she kept washing and he kept drying. Just like old times. Just like their Papá was in the next room along with their Mamá. And in so many ways, he always would be, not as a ghost of their past, but forever a part of their present and future.

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

Arriving during the week had its advantages, as it wasn’t necessary for Horacio to make excuses to get an early night. Work and school beckoned in the morning for most of the household, so the evening had ended in a low-key fashion.

That was more than fine by Horacio after a long drive and an overdue heart-to-heart. He lay on his side, his back nestled into Javier’s chest in the centre of the spare room’s double bed. They made up the fold-out bed for pretences, but it was purely extra space to store their luggage.

A bedside lamp and hints of moonlight peaking around the edges of the curtains cast the room in soft shadows, the low murmur of a telenovela in one of the nearby bedrooms the only sound to be heard at this hour.

“How old were you there?” Javier asked, his voice muffled against Horacio’s shoulder where he’d temporarily paused his trail of kisses after picking out one of several framed photos on the wall.

“The one from Alejandra’s wedding? I’d have been 24.”

“Cute curls.” Javier’s nose nuzzled against the back of Horacio’s head, which was sadly lacking the same unruliness as in the photo.

“Fuck you.”

Javier sniggered. “Hey, I was being serious! They suit you. Plus…more to grab hold of.” He slid a hand into Horacio’s hair as his mouth resumed its work along bare skin.

Horacio’s back arched with a sigh as he leaned into Javier’s touch. “You know we can’t get carried away. Not here.”

“I know.” Of course, Javier understood. It was one thing for him to have sneaked in and out of the guesthouse back in Laredo; it was quite another to be under the same roof as Horacio’s whole family. But that didn’t stop the almost petulant tone in Javier’s voice. He was still human, after all.

“I promise we’ll make up for it once we leave.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Despite their flirtation, exhaustion was thick in their throats and pressed heavily on their limbs, pushing them closer towards sleep as the butterflies in their stomachs finally settled.

“The wedding wasn’t that long after Papá died. Alejandra asked me to give her away instead. At first, I didn’t think I deserved to take Papá’s place. But I think she needed me there with her, so, I said yes.”

“Of course you did, and I bet she never forgot that.”

“No, and I’ll never forget tonight."

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

It was still dark in the spare room when Javier stirred and untangled himself from Horacio as slowly as possible. He had woken up thirsty and threw on a precautionary pair of jeans before tiptoeing down the wooden staircase towards the kitchen.

The clock on the oven read 01:30am, so he wasn't expecting to find the spotlights above it switched on. He searched through the cupboards until he found a tumbler and filled it with water from the tap, taking large gulps until the glass was drained.

“So, you’re a night owl too, then?”

“Shit!” Javier hissed, spinning around with a sharp intake of breath, almost dropping the glass on the tiled floor.

“Sorry,” Alejandra whispered. “I was just reading before heading off to bed.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I just needed some water. Didn’t think anyone else would be up.” Javier was suddenly very aware of the fact he was standing half naked in the middle of the kitchen, Horacio’s necklace like a flashing beacon at his chest. “Obviously,” he added with an awkward huff, looking down at his state of semi-undress.

“Right,” Alejandra replied with a stifled laugh. “How about you avoid catching a chill whilst I find something a bit more…authentic than tap water?”

Once Javier came back downstairs with his chest now covered, Alejandra was sat at the kitchen table with two shot glasses and a bottle of aguardiente.

“Not sure my stomach can handle any more of that after the wedding.”

“Lightweight. And just think of it as an initiation.”

Javier sighed in defeat, accepting the challenge as he took a seat opposite Alejandra.

She unscrewed the bottle and tipped measures into each glass. “Wanna make this more interesting?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Three shots, three questions each. But you can only ask a question after you’ve emptied your glass.”

Javier laughed for a second, unsure what he imagined Alejandra to be like, yet somehow, she surprised him anyway. “Okay. Already sounds better than every other icebreaker inflicted on me. Who goes first?”

“Guest’s choice.”

He stared down at his glass as though it was the barrel of a gun, remembering why he had eventually insisted whiskey was his and Horacio’s go-to drink. When he first arrived in Colombia, Horacio would offer him a shot, pouring liberally from the stash of aguardiente in his office drawer, and Javier accepted on multiple occasions. But it was over and done with like a spoonful of caustic medicine. At least whiskey could be drunk slower and delayed saying goodnight.

That wasn't the order of things now, though. So, Javier grabbed the bull by the horns and threw back his glass, wincing at the aniseed burn as it slid down his throat.

“New rule: you’ve got 30 seconds to come up with a question. Otherwise, you take another shot.”

“Alright, alright, I’m thinking.”

Alejandra’s gaze fell on the oven clock, ramping up the pressure. “10 seconds left…”

“Okay. I’ve got one. What was it like growing up with a younger brother?”

“Annoying, obviously. Especially after he got the highest grade in his English class. I don’t know where he picked them up, but he knew all the swear words. Of course. He drove me crazy testing them out.”

“He did that to my old partner, Steve – his Spanish isn’t great, and Horacio sure liked to remind him whenever he got the chance.”

“Sounds about right. No wonder he liked you – best of both worlds.”

“Maybe.” Javier knew what Alejandra meant, but it didn’t stop heat from spreading through his cheeks regardless.

“He was generally pretty quiet at school,” Alejandra continued, "but not afraid to take the lead…or break a few rules.”

“Again, I’m not surprised.”

“Nope.” They both laughed at that. “He always liked to be moving, though. Doing something with his hands. Or playing sports – he was a good runner. We used to race each other around Jardín Botánico, and he would always beat me. I think he already knew he was in training for the Academy. So, obviously, he was accepted. No doubt some thought he got a free pass, but he was determined to prove himself. Then he had to grow up.”

The joviality faded abruptly from Alejandra’s face, transforming into a wistful smile.

“We both did. But at least I’d had more time with Papá. Good job I did have those few years to myself ‘cos Horacio followed him around like a shadow. Until he couldn’t. Then he thought he had to be the man of the house. Even when there were two much more qualified women for the job.”

“He thought it was his duty."

“Yeah. He did.” There was something akin to awe in how Alejandra looked at Javier, as though she was simultaneously taken aback and impressed that someone summed up and understood her brother so accurately and succinctly.

“Isn’t it your turn, now?” Javier asked after a moment of silence.

Without further hesitation, Alejandra downed her shot. “Why Colombia?”

“Why not Colombia?” He tried a feeble laugh but knew that wouldn't cut it. “I studied Gabriel García Márquez in high school. Although, can’t say I really got him at the time. Took me another try when I was older.”

Now he thought about it, Javier wasn’t convinced he exactly got him the second time around either, considering García Márquez’s views on extradition aligned fiercely with Horacio’s. But that was the luxury of hindsight.

“By then, my Mamá had long since passed, my fiancée had just become my ex, and I had no fucking clue what I was doing with my life. Guess I needed to get lost in someone else’s problems for a while.”

“Tell me about it.” Alejandra held a book up in the air that had been abandoned on the table since Javier joined her.

“Smart move. My teacher loved telling us how García Márquez moved to Mexico and wrote One Hundred Years of Solitude over there. And with how things went down in Laredo, I could see the appeal of starting over in another country. Mexico was…too close to home. The drug war was getting out of hand. More and more agents were being transferred. And what’s the line?” Javier broke off, eyes cast towards the ceiling as he licked his lips in concentration. “‘We came’, they said, ‘because everyone is coming’.”

Alejandra let a pause of bewilderment pass between them as she studied Javier with intrigue. “You’re not at all like the other gringos he’s worked with in the past.”

“Did he bring any of them home to his family?”

“No. You’re the first. As I’m sure you're aware.”

“Maybe.”

“Drink up.”

Javier did as he was told, repressing a cough as the potent liquid worked its magic. “Why did you choose farm life over being a cop?”

Alejandra laughed a little too loudly, considering the time. “There are other career choices, you know.”

Javier gasped. “There are?”

“Hard to believe, isn’t it? But that’s not quite how it went for me. The farm came with Fabián. They’re sort of a package deal. I’m sure you can understand that.” She threw Javier a knowing smile. “But I ruled out being a cop years before I moved here or met Fabián. I knew from Papá that women in the force were few and far between back then. They’re still pretty scarce now. I wasn’t up for putting myself in the firing line being a General’s daughter. They never would have respected me or believed I got there on my own merit. I didn’t want to spend my life trying to gain anyone's approval.”

“Makes sense. It’s not easy in the force if you’re…different from the rest."

“Exactly. I’m not sure it’s what Papá even wanted for me anyway. Because he knew what it’d be like. Then there was Mamá with her social work. She was in her element. Always fighting someone’s corner, especially during the suffrage movement. I think I was the odd one out in the family, ‘cos everyone else seemed to have…a calling except for me. So, I studied, got a business degree, became a buyer for various companies and ended up in the coffee industry. And the rest is history.”

“Good for you. And I guess that explains Horacio’s, er, distaste for a badly made cup of coffee.”

“Yep. He’s got no excuse. And neither do you anymore.”

“I’ll bear that in mind. Your turn.” Javier took the bottle this time and filled Alejandra’s glass.

She downed it in one go. “¿Por qué no un llanero ahora que has descartado ser policía?” (Why not a llanero now you’ve ruled out being a police officer?)

“¿Por qué no un vaquero?” (Why not a vaquero?) Javier corrected with a glint in his eye that Alejandra returned with an eye roll. “Like you said…there are other jobs. That one was just never for me. I need more variety day-to-day. Like I’m making a bigger difference somehow. But preferably without the pretty fucking significant risk of death or blackmail.”

“A fair demand.”

“Right? It’s not like I’m asking for a raise.”

“When I moved here, I didn’t know where life was taking me, especially when the kids came along. I couldn’t keep my old job because of all the travelling…and being a mother was the priority until they started school. It took me a while to find my place on the buying and selling side of the business. So, all I’m saying is, things might get clearer once you’re settled back in Laredo.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Javier raised his glass and nodded his thanks to Alejandra, touched by her unprompted advice.

His third and final question had arrived, and the pressure to make it a good one pressed uncomfortably on his increasingly fuzzy head. “If your father was here now, what would you say to him?”

For a brief second, Javier feared he had overstepped some forbidden and invisible line and been overfamiliar with someone he only really knew by proxy at this stage.

But whilst Alejandra’s smile was permanently stained with traces of grief, warmth flickered then grew in her charcoal eyes. “I’d tell him we’re fine. That we miss him and wish he’d come back for good but that he needn’t worry. Because even though Mamá didn’t always get things right, she steered us through it as best she could. And we didn’t turn our backs on the world. That we found love in the dark.”

Alejandra sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her nose. “Sorry. I think it’s the alcohol.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” Javier paused to clear his throat, blinking his vision back into focus. “It was beautifully said.” His hand reached for hers across the table, hoping again that he hadn’t gone too far.

But she let his hand rest there until she shook her head like a wet dog and poured her final shot. “Same question to you about your mother, obviously,” she said before downing the aguardiente in one.

Javier scoffed. “Well, I guess I deserved that.” He took his time, collecting his thoughts as though he was preparing an important speech. As though he’d been trying to find the right words for most of his life – and how rarely he’d succeeded.

“I’d tell her I miss her morisqueta. I’d tell her Pops visits her every week. But then I think she already knows that. Same way I think she made sure he never re-married.”

Javier couldn’t help but laugh, seeing with perfect clarity where his own loyal streak came from when his Pops was still as devoted to Mariana as the day they married. Siempre tuyo was no exaggeration.

“I’d make sure she knew he wasn’t alone, though. That he was known as Don Chucho to most in Laredo. That she’d be proud of him for growing the community she helped start. I’d brag about all the tamales we’ve made and quote her favourite poems. I’d introduce her to Horacio.”

He envisaged showing her Horacio’s poetry book, knowing that all it would take was for her to read Javier’s message in the opening pages to understand everything about who they were to each other. He’d even dreamed of it, waking with a ridiculous hope that she had somehow intercepted it.

“She sounds as incredible as your father. I hope one day I can thank him for taking my little brother under his wing when he needed it the most.”

“I’m sure that could be arranged.”

“I can’t – and don’t want to – imagine where he would have ended up without either of you, to be honest. He told me about the ambush…and everything else. And even though it doesn’t feel nearly enough, I just want to say...thank you.”

At first, Javier could only nod and swallow the lump bobbing at the base of his throat. “He did the same for me. It wasn’t easy walking away from my job, don’t get me wrong, but it was different for him. He felt like he’d betrayed Colombia and his Papá. Yet he did it anyway.”

“When it’s the right person, the sacrifices are worth it. And I can’t think of anyone more worthy of wearing that.” Alejandra’s sightline had fallen to Javier’s neck. His chest may have now been covered, but the silver chain still poked out from beneath the seam of his shirt.

She poured them a bonus shot each and raised her glass. “Welcome to the family.”

#Narcos fic #Narcos #Javier Peña #Horacio Carrillo #Carrillo #Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo #Pedro Pascal #Maurice Compte #Narcos fanfic #Narcos fanfiction #Narcos fan fic #My Fan Fic #My Narcos Fic

[drabbles-mc]

Lost Time

Horacio Carrillo x F!Reader

For Day 25 of @narcosfandomdiscord's July Smut Alphabet: yearning

Warnings: 18+, smut, language, light angst

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Horacio Carrillo and his messy relationships, my beloveds 😌

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

You’d lost track of the last time the two of you had spoken. The last phone call between you felt like it had happened lifetimes ago. The last face-to-face conversation? Even longer than that. You both had the feeling that it was coming. Inevitable was too strong of a word, but it was much more than probable.

It would only be so long before he really started holding it against you. You knew that was coming, too. No one got to leave him and let it be a clean break. There always had to be a little bit of a mess. He was practically hardwired for it.

Which was why you didn’t know how shocked you really were when you walked through the airport and saw him standing there waiting for you.

“Horacio?” you said, adjusting the bag on your shoulder.

“I heard you were coming home,” he said, his tone painfully neutral. “I wanted to see it for myself.”

His tone was controlled but you could see it in his eyes that there was more he wanted to say. There was more that he wanted to get into. He wouldn’t do that here, though, not in front of so many people. The look in his eyes almost made you want to remind him that Colombia might’ve been home for him, but it wasn’t home for you. Especially not once he stopped calling.

“Well,” you shrugged, “here I am.”

Your assumption was that the person getting you from the airport was going to be Steve or Javi. Someone from your team. Someone that you figured might still actually want to see you. It crossed your mind that maybe Carrillo had missed you more than his lack of letters and phone calls led you to believe. That, or he just wanted to give you a bit of a hard time and a cold shoulder about the whole ordeal. One of those felt a little more likely than the other.

He at least helped you with your bags. You had the backpack on your shoulders, pulling one rolling suitcase with you while he had the other. It was amazing to you that you’d learned to parse your life down to three bags. If someone had told you five years ago that you’d be able to do that, and that you wouldn’t feel like you were missing parts of yourself in doing so, you would’ve told them that they were insane.

He loaded everything into the back of the CNP vehicle. You made your way to the passenger seat. Just as you were going to buckle yourself in, Carrillo pulled the driver’s door open. And, just for a moment, it felt like you’d never left. There was that strange air of routine to it all. The problem was that everything else about the two of you felt different, strained in a way it never used to be.

“I was just going to head home,” you said as he put the key in the ignition, “unless they really need me there today.”

He gave a slight shake of his head. “Tomorrow is fine.”

“Alright.”

“Same building, right?”

You nodded, watching as his hand maneuvered the gear-shift and put the car in drive. “Yea. Same building. Couple floors up from where I was before.” You paused, trying to cut through whatever weird lingering tension was still in the air between you. “Peña and Murphy will have to put in a little work now if they wanna come up and see me.”

You were ready for him to make a comment about that. Some remark about how you’d still have your same place, the little shoebox of an apartment that had a balcony with a view that made up for all the rest of it, if you just hadn’t up and left. You could see the comments practically dancing on the tip of his tongue. There was a slight shift in his jaw as he bit them back, and you almost wished that he’d let them fly. Him being angry with you would make the previous weeks and weeks of silence a little more understandable. Maybe even palatable.

Whatever snide remarks he’d come up with, he stored away for another time. Anger that he would take out on someone else at a later date, you were sure. His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he forced out a simple, “Okay.”

When he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment building, you were ready for him to help you get your bags out, and then just leave the rest of it to you. It wasn’t as though you expected him to come up and help you unpack. Part of you was still surprised that he’d been the one to come and get you. You couldn’t tell what his angle was. You’d seen enough of his anger to know what that was like, and this wasn’t it. But it didn’t feel the same way that it used to between you either.

“I can get it from here,” you told him when he set your bags on the ground.

He shook his head. “I’ll help.”

“Horacio—”

“It’s fine.”

Of all the arguments that the two of you were practically destined to get into in the coming weeks, you weren’t going to let this be one of them. Grabbing one suitcase, you left the other for him. “Thank you.”

Slipping the key into the lock on the door, you let yourself in. You walked in first, Carrillo following close behind. You looked around the apartment as you stepped into it. It was nice enough, the way that most of the housing agents were put up in tended to be. It wasn’t luxury, but it was comfortable. That was really all you needed. You’d only be there to sleep anyway, and it wasn’t as though any of you did enough of that.

“I’d offer you a drink or something,” you told him, chuckling quietly as you dropped your backpack to the floor, “but I’m pretty sure I’ve got nothing to offer.”

“It’s alright.”

The two of you stood there in the space between your new living room and kitchen, the one patch of apartment that had nothing furnishing it. You waited for him to leave, or say something. It still felt like you were waiting for the other shoe to drop. You watched him as he looked around, like your government-furnished apartment was suddenly the most interesting thing he’d ever seen before.

“I didn’t think that you’d be the one to come get me,” you told him honestly, cutting through the silence since he clearly had no intention to.

“Why not?”

You laughed, more out of shock than amusement. Carrillo was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. Stubborn, yes, but not stupid. There was no way that he didn’t understand what you meant, why you said it. “You didn’t even want to make a phone call, Horacio.” You shook your head. “Going out of your way to play chauffer didn’t seem like it was going to be in the cards.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to.” His response was quick, his words quiet. You were expecting an edge to his voice but found none.

“No?” you asked, still not believing him.

“I didn’t think that you were ever coming back. So,” he looked down at the floor, shaking his head, “what was the point?”

“The point?” You stepped in closer to him. “I care about you. That was the point. I figured you cared about me too. Maybe that could’ve been the point.”

“Of course I cared.” He caught himself. “Care.”

You frowned. “Cutting me out without telling me why was a weird way to show that.”

“I couldn’t keep listening to you knowing that I wasn’t ever going to see you again. Talking to you, hearing about your day,” he shook his head, “when I wasn’t part—”

“You were part of it, though,” you countered, practically chest-to-chest with him now. “That’s why I spent so much time fucking calling you, writing you. That was you being part of my day. Me being part of yours.” Tears began to sting at the edges of your eyes, emotions you hadn’t had the time to feel in months bubbling back to the surface. “Then you gave it up.”

“You left first,” he argued, but his voice was still quiet.

“But you stopped trying first.”

He wanted to tell you the truth. He wanted to be able to say it all, but words had never been his strong suit. He wanted to tell you that every night he’d get off the phone and for as much as he loved hearing your voice on the other end of the line, it felt like someone dropped a weight on his chest each time he put the phone back down on the receiver. For as much as he loved reading every letter from you, studying all the intricacies of your handwriting, having to see a return address that was so far from where he was stung. He wasn’t enough to make you stay, and the ache of missing you was one type of pain he didn’t know how to stomach.

There was only a shred of distance left between the two of you, but you erased it anyway. Resting your hand on his shoulder, you squeezed lightly. “I missed you.”

His eyes went to your hand, traveling up your arm until they finally reached your face. “I missed you too.” He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax slightly as he leaned in and let his forehead rest against yours. “It’s why I stopped picking up.”

Your eyes shut, and you could feel the tears that were clinging to your eyelashes. “You should’ve said that.”

He couldn’t go back and fix what had already happened, change the things that he did or didn’t say. But he could tell you now, at least. “I stopped because it hurt, because you weren’t coming back. It felt foolish, like I was holding out hope for something that wasn’t going to—”

“But it did,” you said, cutting him off. “And we could’ve had all that time.”

It was an argument that the two of you easily could’ve kept taking in circles. He could keep saying you kicked it all off by leaving, and you could keep saying that he put the final nail in the coffin because he stopped answering your calls. You were both right, and it wasn’t getting either of you anywhere.

“And now?” he asked.

You brought your hand from his shoulder to the side of his face, thumb grazing along his cheek. “I still miss you.”

He felt the way your thumb stopped moving, the way the tips of your fingers pressed into his skin just slightly. You were almost pulling him towards you, but you stopped yourself. Like you heard the words but were still deciding what they meant, how much weight was really behind them. So instead of saying anything more, Carrillo decided that he would just show you instead.

Lifting his chin, he moved just enough to bring his lips to yours. A gesture that was supposed to be soft, a gentle punctuation to prove that he meant what he’d said to you. But the moment that he felt the soft warmth of your lips against his, all of that went out the window. The second he could feel the quick breath that you sucked in when you realized what was happening, all he could do was desperately try to pour himself into you.

His arms snaked around you, pulling himself tight to you. His lips slotted against yours, desperate and bruising. Desperate to put all those nights filled with longing and missing you into something that would actually do one of you some sort of good. He didn’t know who was getting more out of it at that point. He didn’t really care.

He was everything you remembered, all hunger and need, traces of cigarette smoke still lingering on his tongue. A filthy habit you had been on him to quit but in that moment it tasted like coming home. Your fingers curled into the stiff material of his fatigues, needing to find purchase in something to make sure it was all real, that it wasn’t just part of a cruel trick he was playing.

He stopped kissing you for a moment, but his lips were still brushing against yours as he spoke. “I missed you,” he repeated.

In all the late night and early morning calls, the letters that went back and forth, he never really said it like that. Not so concisely, so directly. Like saying it as such would’ve given it too much power, made the distance between you and the yearning that filled it a little too real and too heavy. But now you were in front of him. You were here and he was kissing you, holding you. And he could say it. It was safe to say it now because he already had you back.

You were going to tell him the same, let him know that he wasn’t alone in all of this. He never had been. But he didn’t give you the chance. His lips crashed against yours once more, none of the calculated finesse that was such a staple with the Colonel in any other capacity. It nearly knocked the wind out of you, made your knees buckle, but it didn’t matter because he was holding you tightly enough to keep you from crumbling anyway.

Suddenly he had you falling back onto the sofa. He moved you through the apartment with the ease of someone who had been spending time there with you for weeks already. You didn’t fight him on it, letting your back hit the cushions, his body pinning to yours as he followed you down. You were pulling at his shirt, untucking it from the pants of his fatigues. His hands were already working at your button and zipper, each of you trying to peel the layers off each other as quickly and as clumsily as possible.

It'd gone differently in his head, all the nights when his mind wandered and conjured up what it would be like if he got to see you again, have you again like he used to. It was never quite like this when he pictured it. He’d given himself too much credit, thinking that he would be able to hold back at all, control himself. He couldn’t. From the second he felt the warmth of your skin against his, the tickle of your breath against his jaw, there was no moderation to be found.

Next time, he thought to himself as he yanked your jeans down your legs, next time he would drag it out. He’d take his time with you. But this had all been dragged out long enough. He wouldn’t have even taken the time to bother with his shirt if you hadn’t started with it first, but that was one thing he could easily do for you. He didn’t have it in him to take his time, but he could at least give you that. It hit the floor right before the rest of his clothes.

The groan that he let out as he pushed into you set every inch of you on fire. Your nails dug into his back, raking along skin that you hadn’t been able to touch in far too long. His lips moved away from yours, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck right before his teeth sank into it. Your body drew itself to his, wanting every bit of contact you could get.

He settled inside you for a moment, hips pressed tightly to yours. For a moment all of your thoughts about Colombia not being home couldn’t have felt further from the truth. You were fighting to catch your breath and the two of you had hardly gotten started. Your eyes fluttered shut, focused on how he felt against you, hips against yours, his face in the crook of your neck. You tried to pull him tighter to you, unsure if it was even possible to do so.

The second he started to move his hips, all you had it in you to do was let his name tumble from your lips. You could feel what it did to him, the way his movements became a little more desperate. Every thrust, each press of his lips to your skin, all just trying to pull that sound from you over and over again. Trying to make up for lost nights, all the times when he wanted to hear that same breathless tone from you but couldn’t, wanted to feel the warmth of you against him but you weren’t there. It was a lot to ask when you’d only been back in Colombia for a couple of hours, but it wouldn’t be the first time the Colonel was being unfair. You didn’t mind it this time, though, as his hands slid up your thighs, moving your legs so he could push deeper into you. His lips dragged along your jaw and all the thoughts, the memories, the weight of the last few months, all of it disappeared. It was just the two of you again, finally, for however long it lasted this time.

#narcos netflix fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #narcos netflix #narcos #horacio carrillo x you #horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo #x reader #x reader fic #nffalphabet #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[goodnitedrdead]

miscalculated steps

Colonel Carrillo x Reader

Summary: Horacio was a man of deliberate decisions. It’s one of the characteristics that got him to the position he held. When you came into his life, he threw all sense of premeditation out the window and knew he would follow you till the end of the world at a moment’s notice. The risk he took was calculated, but man, was he bad at math. 

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Shootings, bullet wounds, death. Not towards any main characters though. fluff <3. silly things here and there.

Author's Note: sometimes I get possessed by the gremlin spirit of creativity so I just type words and hope they make sense when it's finished. feedback is greatly appreciated and will earn you a kiss from me <3

It amused you every time to have any sort of interaction with him and pretend you did not know the type of person he was behind closed doors. In fact, you both quite enjoyed the game you had to play outside of your own little shared universe.

It’s not like you didn’t want to share it with anyone else, the fact that you two were together, but you didn’t want any infiltrations to knock down the foundations you two had built.

For Horacio, it was the excitement and pure love he never really knew he wanted. Most of the time, he felt like a love-sick puppy. He was quite surprised nobody else had brought it up to his attention. He could already hear Javier snickering at him for the lingering and glazy looks he’d give you whenever you were in his presence. 

Truth be told, he tried his hardest to treat you like the rest of his team. He tried so hard to talk to you in the same stern voice he’d use with everyone else. He tried so hard to make sure you were always aware of your surroundings. He tried so damn hard to make sure you didn’t get any sort of special treatment from him. He tried and tried and tried so hard but the best he could do was soften his tone whenever he’d address you. The best he could do was make sure you were always in his line of sight and within reach in case he had to cover you. The very best he could do was to make sure you were his number one priority in that team.

It wasn’t always like that. He remembers when you were first assigned to Search Bloc. He didn’t think much of you. For him, it was another person to deal with which meant more weight on his shoulders that would slow him down. That all changed when you knocked him off his feet…. quite literally. 

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It had been during a stakeout gone wrong. Carrillo and Peña were informed about an exchange that was taking place in an abandoned farm-house outside of Medellín. As the two of them were heading towards their shared vehicle, you were leaning on yours having a cigarette. Javier called you out, and you looked up to see him waving at you. You quickly put your cigarette out and jogged towards them. Carrillo would eventually have to thank Javier for this, as he was the one who invited you to join them. You agreed, and got in the backseat of the car. 

As the three of you drove with minimal conversation, you kept shifting in your seat. Carrillo noticed after a while, the way you couldn’t seem to sit still, the way you kept readjusting the seat belt strap that went across your torso. 

“Everything alright, agent?” he asked, starting to get bothered by your actions. Looking at you through the rearview mirror.

You gave him a quick smile before you replied, “yeah.. All good.”

He raised an eyebrow at you and kept driving, falling into conversation with Javier.

Carrillo noticed the change in demeanor when you reached your destination. You weren’t fidgeting anymore. Instead, he found you to be overly-observant. As he placed the car in park, he saw the way you looked out the window, one hand on your gun and the other on the handle of the door. Alert.

As the three of you exited the vehicle, he was about to make a comment on your behavior, but it all changed when the bullets started to rain on the three of you. 

His eyes immediately searched for Peña as he was quick to find cover from the gunfire. The shooting was coming from above. The street was clear of civilians, except for the three of you and the shooters. It was four men, positioned on different balconies from the houses on the street. He could only see two in front of him, and he quickly took one down with his pistol. The man fell from the balcony, colliding with the hard concrete beneath him. 

Adrenaline coursed through his veins. His breath was coming in a quick and shallow rhythm.  Carrillo took cover behind a car, ducking from the bullets that were dancing around him. He paid close attention to the sound of the gunfire, trying his best to count how many rounds were left in the other man’s weapon. It wasn’t long before he heard the shooting from that direction stop, the man more than likely meeting the same fate as his partner. The smell of gunpowder clung to the air, silence was quick to take over the atmosphere.

He scouted the area around him, slowly rising to his feet with his gun drawn and ready. At the lack of sight of you and Peña, Carrillo started to panic. He was quick to inspect his surroundings, looking for either of you. He had counted four men before, and two of them got taken down. Sure he could take on the other two by himself, but the problem was that he didn’t know where they had gone. They could ambush him at any minute.

As he came close to an old house down the street, he was about to call out for Peña when he felt an overpowering force plow against him. He was knocked out of his breath, his back making contact with the uneven pavement below him. He felt a few rocks dig into his back, his head grazing the ground. It all happened so quickly he didn’t have time to register the weight on top of him, shielding him from the bullets. 

Just as he was about to strike his attacker, he was stopped at the sight of you. Definitely not the person he expected. 

You were out of breath, panting above him. Your hair untamed, framing your face in a way that made you look much younger. Carrillo never took the time to really look at you until now. You were beautiful. A part of him that he didn’t even know was there started to awaken. Was it the rush of adrenaline? Was the loneliness catching up to him? Was it the way you saved his life? Whatever it was, those thoughts vanished as he saw you jump back to your feet, running to the sound of gunfire. He didn’t even know you had pushed him into an alleyway, hiding him away from the danger.

As he got out of the trance he was in, he got back up and followed you. Only to find out you and Peña had taken care of the other men that were still on the loose.

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It still amused him, knowing that in an instant moment his whole world changed because of you. Never in a million years did he think he’d end up sharing a home with you. Where you two would create your own sanctuary and your own world together, a world so perfect that he’d feel giddy to get out of work and home to you. He couldn’t need anything else as long as he was in your shared space.

The excitement to come back to you at the end of the day was always there. But sometimes he’d get so wrapped up in his own mind. The exhaustion of work following him and finding a home in his bones, aching and wearing him down as the minutes ticked by. And there was no one to blame for such a feeling. It came with the profession. The formidable belief that you were changing the world, even if it cost giving up your own sanity.

 He was so thankful you understood. And you were thankful he did as well. The mutual understanding was something neither of you had in previous relationships, at least not to this level. Sure, previous partners of  yours knew of your profession and what you did, but they never really knew the extent of it until they had witnessed it first-hand. And it wasn’t a problem until you’d withdraw from your own existence. You would lose interest in the smallest of things, sometimes to the point where food wasn’t even an option for you. Finding solace in the cigarettes and cheap coffee you’d consume on your way to the office or with your own colleagues. You pitted the opposing party in these situations. Your self-awareness sometimes failing you to see that you would neglect your partners from being so involved with your job. Only realizing once they’ve been long gone, leaving you confused and a tad disappointed with your behavior. 

Making you wonder if you were even meant to be loved.

But that was until you met Horacio. 

With him, things were unlike any other. He understood. He got it. He knew the game plan and he knew how to play it. Both of you wouldn’t even have to speak a word to understand it had been one of those days. You learned how to read each other based on the most simple microexpressions. Sometimes it was the way he’d breathe. He would hold his breath at times, almost as if he were restraining himself from unleashing the anger he suppressed. Anger at the world, anger at the people who would do their part to make the world a shitty place. Anger at Pablo Escobar. 

Horacio couldn’t even begin to understand a man like Escobar. Why build your empire above the souls of Colombia? Why paint the walls with the blood of those whose lives you felt entitled to take? Who was he to choose who got to live and who got to die? 

The thoughts faded as he walked inside the only place that managed to bring him tranquility. With a deep breath, he allowed himself to engulf the feeling of calmness. The warmth of your shared home embraced his very soul, settling in his bones and scaring away the ache and weariness that usually resided there. He couldn’t hold back the smile that formed on his face as he walked deeper inside, looking for you. 

He heard you before he could see you. A string of quiet curses that left your mouth, along with things hitting the floor. The faint melody that flowed from the radio got louder as he approached the bathroom. Finding you haunched over the edge of the bathtub, you're back facing the door. As much as he wanted to surprise you by wrapping his arms around your waist, he couldn’t bring himself to scare you like that. Fear was an ever present feeling in your field of work and he was not about to let it follow you home. Instead he just learned against the frame of the door, delightfully observing you. 

You were setting candles around the edge of the tub, trying to somehow make it look… romantic. Inviting? Relaxing? You weren’t even sure what you were going for. All you wanted was to do something nice for Horacio, you knew how hard of a time he was having lately. He wasn’t the only one, sure, but as the Colonel and head of Search Bloc, he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. You wanted to relieve some of that pressure he carried, at least for this moment. 

You checked your watch, lifting a fist in a celebratory manner as you managed to finish before Horacio arrived home. Or so you thought. You had completely forgotten to retrieve the matchsticks to light the candles. Challenging yourself to go downstairs and get the matchstick box in under ten seconds, you turned and tried to make a run for it when you collided with a goddamn human brick wall. Oof.

You instantly felt arms wrap around you, trapping you in place. A smile immediately appeared on your face as you looked at the man who embraced you. Horacio planted kisses all over your face, making the most exaggerated kissing sounds as he did so. You giggled before you gently shoved him away, suddenly realizing he was home and your surprise was ruined.

“Why are you here? You weren’t supposed to be home for another twenty minutes!” you couldn’t help but whine, you really wanted to surprise him with this.

Horacio smirked, walking towards you with his hands on his hips, “I can always go back to the office and crash there. Would you prefer that, mi amor?”

You walked backwards, rolling your eyes before they settled on his gaze. The back of your knees softly touching the side of the tub, coming to a stop. You mimicked his posture, hands on your hips and a playful look in your eyes. “You’re more than welcome to do so. You probably wouldn’t even last five minutes before complaining about–”

He caged you in between his body and the tub, towering over you and wrapping his arms around you once again. His fingers making contact with the parts of your body that were the most ticklish. Wanting to make you regret your words.

You laughed as he tickled you, trying to squirm and get out of his grasp before it could continue. You jerked back to try to avoid his hands from touching you, but he had grabbed you by the waist and you forgot where you were and you lost your balance and the next thing you knew, you were falling backwards into the full tub and on your attempt to grab onto something, you ended up grasping his biceps and pulling him down with you. 

Horacio was a man of deliberate decisions. It’s one of the characteristics that got him to the position he held. When you came into his life, he threw all sense of premeditation out the window and knew he would follow you till the end of the world at a moment’s notice. The risk he took was calculated, but man, was he bad at math. 

He tried to act quick and move so he wouldn’t fall completely on top of you and crush you, but that didn’t work out. You started laughing once again as his weight held you down, the look of oh shit we fucked up evident on his face and you couldn’t even look at him because you weren’t sure what was funnier, that look or the fact that both of you had fallen into the tub, his drenched military uniform clinging onto every part of his body. The usually military green turned even darker as the water made contact with it.

He stopped caring about what happened when he heard your laugh, and he couldn’t help himself from joining you. The both of you now looking at each other and finding humor in the fact that both of you were completely wet. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him in even further, not caring about the situation anymore. 

He looked down at you and let his laughter subside, the feeling of adoration taking over. He was completely enamored with you and couldn’t even tell you because he was sure there was not a word on the planet that could convey the feelings he had for you. Horacio placed a hand on your cheek, leaning in slowly and taking in all of your features. 

You pulled away just barely enough to miss his lips, a smirk settling on your face as you told him, “you’re definitely sleeping at the office from now on.” 

Whatever quick comeback he tried to come up with disappeared when he felt your lips press against his.

#colonel carrillo x reader #colonel carrillo x you #colonel carrillo imagine #colonel carrillo fic #colonel carrillo #horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo x you #horacio carrillo imagine #horacio carrillo fic #horacio carrillo #narcos fic #maurice compte #goodnitedrdead writes

[the-hinky-panda]

Reparar (Los Regalos Series)

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

Pairing: Colonel Horacio Carrillo x Fem!Reader

Rating: PG-13

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Horacio?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

“Querida.” 

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

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

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

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

Maybe…maybe it hasn’t been. 

“Te amo, Horacio.” 

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

#horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo x you #colonel horacio carrillo x you #colonel horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo fic

[somedaylazysomeday]

Matter of Perspective - Part Four

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

Horacio Carrillo x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors, do not interact.

Word Count: 3,800

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

Previous | Masterlist

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was going to be careful.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You made this?” you asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But neither of those needed to happen today. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Delicious. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

Thanks for reading!

#fanfic february #fanfic february 2024 #narcos #narcos fanfiction #colonel horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo x you #fem!reader #reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert fanfic #reader insert fic #lemon #spicy #not suitable for minors #minors dni

[mariamariquinha]

Versos de Placer (Colonel Carrillo x f!reader) - Nine

Summary: The moment of realization paralyzed you completely.

Word count: 2.1k (shorty)

Warnings: Bad words, unprotected p in v sex, typos (I’ll try to check again if there’s something), violence, mentions of guns, sliiiiight mention of daddy issues, kinda of angst. I tried to check the spelling. Forgive me for any mistakes.

Author’s Note: Be sure you updated your settings. Hope you all have a great weekend!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤

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“F-fuck…”

Carrillo reached the juncture of your shoulders and neck, one of his thumbs came up to your lips, where you placed a kiss. There was a smile there - one that you reflected. You placed a hand on the back of his head when he lowered it to nip at one of your nipples, making you shiver and grip his biceps.

It was a unique skill, the one he had while playing with your breasts, eliciting reactions of pure ecstasy. You closed your eyes for a moment as you felt him massage and kiss them - remembered how he would look at your cleavage before you even started seeing each other, disguising it as you walked up to him ready to fight. Something you didn’t notice back then, of course, but in that moment started to make sense.

Saying the sex was good felt like a statement. Horacio used his diligence and observant personality to watch your reactions, try new things, learn from your sweating body and almost drunk expression. That was already the third round for you and for the third time, you were being taken apart piece by piece.

Maybe it was the way you were already sounding, Medellín wasn't that cool at night, and even the open window didn't cool the two of you as Horacio moved his hips in slow, more deliberated motions. Maybe it was the fact that you were soaked everywhere, sensitive but no less delighted by the sensation of being penetrated by him.

“Mírate, mi vida…” Look at you, my life.

He lifted his torso slowly, his hands caressing your breasts again before descending to your stomach and stopping at your spread thighs, eyes intent on his cock filling you just right. You just sighed, more aroused by the sight of that lustful gaze directed to your wet pussy.

“¿Crees que me puedes dar uno más? ¿Solo más uno?” Do you think you can give me one more? Just one more?

Your voice cracked so you didn't respond right away. Bothered, he grunted before planting his knees more firmly on the mattress and taking a firmer thrust that made you gasp.

“Mm-hm.”

“Mm-hm? Is that a yes? You can?”

What the hell, even at the most crucial moments he managed to ask for consent. What kind of man is this that falls into your bed like that? What luck is this? Such a turn on… Did your pussy just clenched around him?

“... Yes.”

You didn't believe in sex connection; under the circumstances, that was stupid to think. But then Carrillo wrapped an arm around your torso, pulled you close, and you had to lean one arm on the bed while he just started to pound inside of you, never taking his eyes off yours. He was hitting the right spot, over and over again, the beads of sweat falling on you - it was messy, it was intense, and if you ever hid what you felt, there was no secret in that moment. Eye to eye. Don't stop, you said silently, resisting the urge to close your eyes to savor every bit of that expression of desire on his face.

It would be embarrassing to see how wet you were, the slickness of your pussy only made you more horny, moaning loudly and using your vacant hand to dig your nails into his shoulder. Your hips began to meet his, each taking what you could, not hiding your own reactions in loud groans.

When the two of you came together (and when you squirted all over his dick while being filled with his seed), there was a moment of silence, heavy breathing, and the prickling sensation of having almost touched paradise; that night was the most intense of your life. He even laid you back on the bed, let the weight of his body fall on yours as he caught his breath, and smiled against your ringing neck when he felt your hand caress the back of his head as you placed a kiss on his temple.

“That never happened, you know?” The murmur came out of your mouth suddenly. He hummed with curiosity.

For some reason, your answer took a while to come out, because suddenly your mind was stuck on what you really meant by that. He didn't move, but the second silence felt sepulchral, anxious.

“... Ruining my sheets.”

There was a giggle, almost a laugh that you both shared in the half darkness of your room because you could just turn on the bedside lamp.

“My mom gave it to me as a gift. A Christmas one.”

“Think she’ll be mad if she knows?”

You considered with a smile, eyes on the ceiling and fingers brushing his nape.

“Maybe not.”

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

“... Sorry for showing up like that. I know the deal wasn't to let anyone know.”

For a moment, the two of you just watched each other; like a post-sex aura hovering you two, admiring each other, observing.

He was wearing his green t-shirt again, so you could catch a glimpse of his left shoulder that had reddish marks from your fingernails. You probably had a purple mark near your shoulder where he bit you at some point. Even with tired expressions, there was the satisfaction of that intercourse, which was rare - both satisfaction and sex. Standing there in the middle of your tiny kitchen, you were able to experience that with a moment of peacefulness too. Equally rare.

“It’s okay. Javi stopped by earlier to ask if I was okay, said he would go out for drinks,” You leaned over the sink, crossing your arms. “He's not gonna be back until the early morning.”

Carrillo considered your words for a moment.

“Will you be there at least? Communications or air cover?” With both hands tucked into his pockets, he didn’t take any steps to get closer, but you could see the man already reverting to his usual businesslike posture.

The memory of what had happened at the meeting made your cheeks burn with embarrassment and you automatically looked away from his face; it wasn't something you wanted to comment on, even Steve tried but it was better if it stayed that way. It would pass. At least it should.

“... No. I’ll stay as reinforcement, but at the roadblock. Away.”

“Away?”

“Yes.”

“I disagree.”

It was something you liked and hated about Carrillo at the same time - he could be so sure of his ideas that it drove anyone crazy. He squeezed, insisted, did his best to make the true virtue of 'justice' the only true loyal soldier he had been trained to be. For you, it was noble, true, proof that he kept his heart on his sleeve even if it usually became harsh. When he wanted something in a way, it’ll be that way; when he wanted to make things happen between you, there wasn’t a resistance.

But that was different.

And for a moment, after what happened with your father, you knew that if the two of you had this conversation he would agree with the man's 'protective' stance. You would feel even more embarrassed if that were the case.

“Well, I hate condescension.”

“It's not what I'm offering you.” His tone was a touch soft, which was a bit surprising considering that… It was him, right?

“... Okay.”

He nodded and a silence hovered over you two for a moment too long.

“I need to go.”

“I know.”

“Tsk, come here.”

Horacio approached and placed both hands on your face before giving you a long kiss on the mouth. There was no intention of prolonging it, you knew, but it was a warm touch that you welcomed with open arms - he even pulled the cloth off your shirt a little, at least to steady you close to his body.

“See you tomorrow.”

You saw him walk out the door and take the emergency stairs just in case; he looked back, his hand on the knob, and for a moment he seemed to want to say something else, but he didn't. Carrillo pursed his lips, nodded, then left.

Even tired, you stared at the empty hallway for a little longer before entering.

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

On more troubled days like that, people barely spoke to each other because each knew their role, so communication happened while things were in action.

When you arrived at the office that morning, there was already a soldier waiting to take you to the roadblock and you had no sign of your father, Javier, Steve or Carrillo. The sun hadn't even risen, the sky was still showing signs of night as you parked on the road with other jeeps, but you mentally calculated the commotion - Javi with the helicopter, Steve on the radio, your father on the floor. Knowing Horacio's strategies, he should have already been on the other side of that dense forest you've come to face, gun in hand while reviewing instructions with only Trujillo and his men because he wasn't going to give too much space to the CIA guys accompanying the raid.

You were really in the dark. At a certain point, it was possible to see and hear the helicopter flying over you and that was the most you could suppose.

“Señorita?” One of the soldiers called you, in time to offer an operational basic radio.

It didn't take two seconds for someone to start talking.

“How is everything there?”

Your father's voice wasn't strange - the fact that he wanted to talk to you was. Still, in the midst of your hesitation, you looked forward and then back, seeing the road that seemed endless around you.

“Calm.”

“I want you to stay in touch with me. We’ve seen movement in this region in the last two hours.”

“How many?”

“A bunch. There's a team nearby, but just in case.”

“Fine.”

The radio made some noises and he didn't say anything before just turning it off. It wasn't like you expected anything but still… A ‘good luck’ at least? You would like to say this to your partners.

Anyway, for a long time, all that happened was nothing. The dirt from the road smacked your boots and face in the morning breeze, the other men who accompanied you didn't talk beyond small murmurs among themselves - all purely professional, speculations about the advancement of the main team.

This lasted forty minutes.

Gunshots began to echo frantically in the distance, one after the other, and his radio began to hum between loud voices or huffed noises. The soldiers raised their heads, eyes on the forest a few miles away, and they gripped their weapons more firmly. You were also attentive, trying to see the position of the helicopter that hovered at a specific point above the trees.

“... Don't back down! The plan follows!” Your father screamed at the other end.

“¿Qué están diciendo?” What are they saying? One of the soldiers turned to you with a big frown, standing by your side.

“No puedo decirlo, solo te están diciendo que sigas adelante.” Can't tell, they're just saying to keep going.

That part you had of your mother started to show, suddenly your chest felt tight with the feeling that something had gotten out of hand. It was a sensation. The soldiers started talking about knowing how to recognize the shots from each side, that there were many from the narcos, that the advance had been blocked.

Everyone tensed.

“Shit. Shit! Carrillo?! Carrillo, can you hear me?!” Steve's voice was far away, as if the radio on the other end had been left beside him, but you could clearly hear what he said.

“We don’t have time for this,” Your father said back. “We need to get on with the plan.”

Time for what? What had happened? Did he have casualties? Were they ambushed? What the hell was going on?

That moment felt like hours and hours, you couldn't tell. Communication was cut again but the shooting continued incessantly, which made you more apprehensive. Just after half an hour (you checked your watch) that some sign of life was given. The rumble of the radio alerted you that someone was calling on the other end and everyone, including you, looked at the device as if it were something out of this world.

You answered.

Silence.

“... Dad?”

“We got them,” But then there was a pause. A damn pause that said more than anything he could have uttered from his mouth.

After a sigh, he only spoke one sentence and that was enough for a lump to form in your throat so that you couldn't hide the frightened expression on your face.

“¿Que pasó?” What happened? That same man asked.

You looked at him, gulped, gripped the device - squeezed it hard.

“Carrillo recibió un disparo.”

Even you couldn't believe what you just said, but you couldn't process the words with so much going through your head or on the faces of all those men staring at you morbidly. Nobody touched you and there was no justification, no explanation. You stared at the forest in the distance with a dry mouth. The moment of realization paralyzed you completely.

Carrillo got shot.

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

Taglist:

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#horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo #narcos #narcos fanfiction #colonel carrillo #colonel carrillo fic #horacio carrillo fic #maurice compte

[mariabolivar12]

Luz de esperanza part 3

Emparejamiento: horacio carrillo x policia lectora

N/E: otra idea que se me ocurrió de repente

Resumen: Horacio lleva mucho tiempo enamorado de ti; en vista de que Horacio pretendía pasar la navidad solo lo invitaste a la casa de tu abuela para pasar la navidad juntos...lo que no te esperabas era el robo que iba a hacer en frente de toda tu familia

Noche de ensueño, solo así podrías describir esa maravillosa velada, el sol filtrándose por medio del espacio libre de las cortinas era un recordatorio, una vez más de que no estabas soñando, el cálido cuerpo a tu espalda te sostenía con tanta fuerza entre sus brazos, como si soltarte fuera su peor pesadilla o tal vez también quería convencerse de que no estaba soñando, afuera de esa habitación, había caos y guerra, mucha guerra

Pero eso no podría importarte menos en este momento, por una vez en tu toda tu vida decidiste ser egoísta, tal vez el mundo arda a tu alrededor pero hay algo cierto, mientras el mundo arde en llamas tú, disfrutarás estar envuelta en el cálido abrazo de tu amado, su cabello castaño revuelto, su musculoso pecho al aire libre, eran sin duda la vista más imponente y más hermosa a la vez, a menudo té preguntabas si este hombre era humano, como era posible que tanta perfección pudiera existir en un solo hombre

-buenos días, preciosa, como dormiste-

-de maravilla y tu?-pusiste tu mano en su mejilla trazando su fuerte mandíbula con tu palma

-creo que es el sueño más largo que he tenido desde que entre a la policía-

Su sonrisa no podía parar de crecer, los rayos del sol iluminaban sus hermosos ojos cafés y justo en ese momento, te diste cuenta de que era la primera vez que era así de vulnerable en el buen sentido, su mirada siempre era intimidante y oscura, casi nunca sonreía y sus orbes oscuros carecían de brillo, pero aunque desde aquel beso en su oficina comenzó a regalarte sus sonrisas, esta nueva faceta de él era aún más hermosa

Sin querer levantarte de la cama te sentaste sobre su abdomen y colocaste las palmas de tus manos sobre su pecho, te inclinaste hacia delante y repartiste tiernos pero largos besos alrededor de su cara hasta llegar a sus labios, su risa se mezcló con el sonido de los pájaros que cantaban afuera de la habitación

Horacio rodó sobre su espalda y en un solo movimiento quedaste atrapada por su musculatura, te miro a los ojos por un largo momento sonriendo tanto que casi no se lograban apreciar sus orbes cafés, pero justo en el instante en el que el espacio entre ustedes fuera inexistente un golpe en la puerta seguida de la voz de tu padre interrumpió el momento más romántico de tu vida

-ya bajo papá!!-escuchaste sus pasos alejarse y seguido Horacio te dejo libre de su prisión, te robó un largo beso antes de sentarse en el borde de la cama

-que pasa guapo? Algo te preocupa?-te acercaste a él y frotaste su espalda a modo de consuelo

¿Qué va a pasar con nosotros cuando regresemos al trabajo? No quiero alejarme de ti no nuevamente y tampoco quiero ponerte en peligro…es solo que no puedo evitar pensar en todo eso, y es…-

-oye…yo quiero estar contigo y eso es lo que importa, en el trabajo seremos colegas tú mi superior y yo tu subalterna…nada tiene que cambiar…en la seguridad de estos muros profesáremos el amor inmenso que sentimos por el otro…quiero esto más que nada y no pienso separarme de ti nunca más entiendes?- te dio un leve asentimiento y tomó tus manos para besarlas, juntaste tu frente con la suya y dejó escapar un pesado suspiro

Al bajar encontraron el desayuno servido en la mesa, Horacio se sentó junto a tu papá y tu a su lado, esa mañana todos los integrantes de tu familia estaban ahí y luego de larga presentación y de una larga charla durante la comida tú y Horacio subieron a su habitación para tomar una ducha; Al salir del baño viste a Horacio en el balcón de la habitación de espaldas a ti, te acercaste lentamente a él y le diste un abrazo, al sentir tus brazos rodeándolo inmediatamente su cuerpo se relajo y colocó sus manos sobre las tuyas

-mi mamá dijo que almorzaremos todos juntos…es decir nosotros cuatro y el resto de personas que viste esta mañana, estás bien con eso?-

-si tu lo estás yo también- te regalo un largo pero tierno beso en los labios y luego uno en la frente, te atrajo así el para darte un abrazo colocando su cabeza sobre la tuya

Por primera vez en mucho tiempo dejaste de escuchar el ruido a tu alrededor y pudiste respirar en paz, te sentías en paz, estar en los brazos de Horacio te hacía sentir en casa, escuchar su corazón latir te calmaba y sentir las leves caricias de sus dedos en tu cabello te daba una sensación de calma absoluta como ninguna otra

No despegó su vista de ti en todo el rato, se levantó de su silla y se colocó detrás de la tuya, posó sus manos sobre tus hombros y luego sobre tus brazos hasta que te puso de pie, te tomó de la cintura y tu cara de confusión al igual que la de todos tus familiares lo hicieron soltar una carcajada, tomó un mechón de tu cabello y lo escondió detrás de tu oreja

-no he tenido la oportunidad de decírtelo y se que es obvio pero quiero hacerlo de todas formas…tu papá me hizo caer en cuenta que debo decirte esto y dejar las cosas claras…te amo más que nada en este mundo y tengo que decirte que mi amor por ti nunca cambiará…eres única y especial te amo con todo mi ser…eres capaz de hacer que un mal día sea el mejor con solo sonreír…me di cuenta que quiero despertar a tu lado todos los días y acostarme a tu lado todas las noches…por eso quiero saber…si…quieres casarte conmigo?…quieres pasar el resto de tu vida conmigo?-

-¡si! Por supuesto que sí quiero…-

-¿Aún sabiendo que soy el Coronel mal humorado y casado con su trabajo?-

-aun sabiendo que eres el Coronel jodidamente guapo, mal humorado y casado con su trabajo, si quiero casarme contigo- Horacio saco del bolsillo de sus jeans una cajita aterciopelada, cuando la abrió se dejó ver un anillo dorado con una hermosa esmeralda en el medio, te puso el anillo y te doy un beso que correspondiste gustosa

Alrededor de ustedes sólo se escuchaban virotes de tu familia y más allá de ellos el eco de las balas y de los gritos a causa de la violencia, tal vez tengas un final feliz, tal vez por fin una de tus sueños se haga realidad, tal vez esta es una de esas historias donde la empleada se enamora del jefe y ambos forman una familia…tal vez ese no sea el caso, tal vez la vida los juntó y los volverá a separar…lo cierto es que no sabes que pasará aquí en adelante pero lo que sí sabes es que amas a este hombre con tu vida y aunque para muchos parezca acelerado sabes que con este trabajo el no juega a su favor…

#colonel horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo #colonel carrillo #horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo fic #horacio carrillo x you #maurice compte #narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos netflix