#carrillo x reader

“¿Sí?” Yes?

Not a word. At least for a few seconds, you just kept your eyes closed and considered saying something. 

“... I shouldn’t have called.”

“What?”

“I shouldn’t-This is so ridiculous…” The embarrassed giggle that left your mouth made your cheeks burn. You heard him squirm in his chair for a moment, probably leaning back – probably trying to sneak a noise from you at your hesitance. “You’re probably working.”

“I am.”

“Sorry.”

“You know there’s no need for that,” Carrillo said in a low, tired voice. “I was thinking about you.”

You bit your lip at that – kept your face hidden in your blanket, the bluntness of his words not preventing you from reacting to it. 

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. I can see that you’ve been distracted recently… People in my position do that, they pay attention.” 

It should be true – or you should believe it was true. Since everything, from his ‘confession’ to the guys and whatever the fuck turned what you two just started, Carrillo wasn’t the worst at keeping things cool for the sake of a good job. He was enamored by it, entranced with the idea of being the guy he always worked to be. 

So of course he would pay attention, whatever the reason he had for such a thing. 

“Does it have anything to do with you calling me now?” 

You nodded before murmuring a single ‘yes’. Carrillo hummed. 

“I’m in need of some help with those reports anyway. Would you mind coming over?” Always preventing the drama and the unwillingness of a scene, given phones could be confiscated or supervised in some way, you took his distrust as a plus point and smiled.

“I could.” 

And you did. Flip flops and all, you left the apartment building and drove calmly through the streets, managing to get there as quietly as you could, as if any commotion would put that good feeling of anticipation away. You passed the guards, then the elevator and the other corridors, just to see the light coming from his desk. By the window of his door, it was possible to notice his hunched figure and sharp profile while eyeing the scattered papers all over. 

When you opened the said door, when he raised his eyes to look at you, no one said a word or did anything. He was tired, you could see, but attentive by your presence. That made you sigh in relief. And you knew it was wrong when you made sure that the few people in the building saw you coming there – when they probably noticed where you were entering, closing and locking that door in silence. 

The curtains were closed when you got there. You just assumed he was taking a few steps ahead to keep it private. 

You should be conscious about it being wrong, but when you kept your palm touching the door, back turned to him as you made sure it was protectively closed, you’d hear him coming with careful steps, just so he could stay nearby your body, as if reading your mind and understanding your needs. 

Carrillo had that smell on him: cigarettes, whiskey, cologne. Being a man of action, he spent the day out, but from that closeness, you noticed that he got home and showered. He had that same perfume when you met at the bar, when you fucked for the first time. Horacio was warm too. Always warm. Like he just lived to keep that hot blood running through his veins because there wasn’t another purpose in his life than to keep chasing, to keep moving, to keep it running and ensuring that his emotions would be running high.

His chest brushing your back made you shiver. His fingers gently touching each of your arms made you sigh. 

You felt ashamed then, for not being able to be more presentable to him, pristine just like he was for you. 

“... You remember when we used to sneak around here?” You let it slip out of your mouth before you could stop it, but he didn’t let your self consciousness get the better of you. 

“Mm-hm,” He answered. 

“I…” You cleared your throat, then squeezed your eyes shut. “I want to feel like that again. Even for a second, I just… I just miss being someone brave.” 

With a firm grip, Carrillo turned your body so you could face him. He held you close, though, staring right into your eyes and giving all the intensity he had just so he could prove some kind of point. In other circumstances, you would hate that – hate him. 

“I can’t help you with that,” He offered. “Whatever we do from now on, it’ll be different. I’m not the same man I was at that time and my intentions will not be that simple.”   

He sensed you melting – had a grip on you when those words fell from his mouth. That was why you wanted to be brave again. Being brave, you would be able to tell him the same, to open your mind and heart to this feeling, to fully jump into it as if the world would be less complicated. But being already there, savoring the moment, swallowing the sensation of having this, having Carrillo… You could make peace with that. 

“... What changed?”

There was a hesitation in his mannerisms, one you knew would just make him go away. And you needed to hear that, you needed a proof, something he wasn’t willing to give you because of so many implications. Carrillo was Carrillo, would always be – who were you to wait for an admission you knew would just do more harm than good? 

You felt tense, felt pathetic. When you lowered your eyes and he insisted, pecking your lips once, then twice, you came to the realization that you weren’t a kid anymore, that you couldn't run to your mother’s bed after a nightmare, that crying or asking wouldn’t make your father come back. You did what you did and you played what you played; it was frustrating to not having at least one fucking thing you wanted, or to have more of the taste of doing something pleasurable. 

With Carrillo’s calloused hands holding your arms, then his eyes watching your reaction, you got it. He was also opening a wound, going to a place he wasn't comfortable with and giving you what he could be giving to someone else – probably Juliana. 

And if you still had that guilty feeling inside of you, that heavy sensation of taking someone else’s place or being that person, it all went away when he kissed you again, just like he did that night after your near death experience. He kissed you like he meant it. Each touch, movement, sigh… as if he belonged there. You could cry if you had that in you, because even if Carrillo couldn’t give that sensation back, he was willing to give you better ones. 

You kissed him back just as eagerly. Hands on the back of his neck, you gave in naturally, wanting to be as close as you could. He used the opportunity to deep kiss, pushing you enough to have free access to your backside – touching between your shoulder blades, then traveling lower to the hem of your shirt and making place there, both palms softly holding on your skin inside the fabric. You whimpered at the sensation, as if the whole thing got you overwhelmed. 

The low light made his eyes look even darker, you noticed, but it wasn’t this the main reason for his hunger observation on your body. Carrillo always looked so pretty like that, on the verge of losing control; even more stunning when that appreciation was directly to you. It was distracting, the idea of watching him with swollen lips, showing an honest reaction to something. And yeah, distracting, enough for you to not even feel his hand coming up to grip your left breast over your bra. 

“What is it?” He murmured his question, frowning a little and not taking his eyes from where he touched you. 

“Mm?”

“You’re hesitating.” 

Then Horacio looked at your face, seeing your momentary embarrassment and sighing in frustration. 

“I’m not, just… I don’t want to disappoint you with whatever I feel or do or say. It’s always a bad decision to put big expectations on me,” You said. 

“I just need you to be with me when we are together. We're already in a rush with all this shit going on, we don't need any more rushed encounters just for the sake of it.” 

You raised your eyebrows with a small smile at his assertion. 

“Since when have you been doing slow?”

Your plane landed in the early morning hours, it was still dark out as you exited. Luckily there was no waiting on baggage or making your way through the crowd. When the DEA sent you out, they pulled out all the stops. It helped that you were top of your game at work, putting in the extra hours, sacrificing your social life. It basically meant you were eating, sleeping, and dreaming of work 24/7 but it brought you up as the highest agent in your division and because of that, it earned you the Escobar case. That and well, you had pretty well knowledge of Colombia since you spent your college years abroad there. 

This was the last of the luxury you’d experience from the DEA office in the states, however, and you knew that so you soaked up every ounce of it before you were now exiting the private plane, making your way down to the Ford that was waiting to take you to your accommodations. 

“Hola, senorita.” Someone in a suit greeted you and held the backdoor open for you. 

You smiled and placed your bags in the back, you knew that wasn’t what they were holding the door for, but you weren’t going to continue the special treatment. Quickly after dropping your bags, you moved to the passenger seat and waited for the driver to join you. After a few beats of silence they mentioned they would be taking you to your apartment so you could get settled but you disagreed and made them take you to the embassy. 

There it was, the habit that got you in this position, all work, no play. 

As you rolled into the embassy, you flashed your badge and quickly made your way in, stepping out as the car was still moving. 

“Muchas gracias.” You nodded to your driver who was panicking to brake. 

Two men in tan suits waited for you as you approached with your bags. 

“Peña and Murphy?” You stood staring at the two of them as they sized you up. 

“Yep.” Javier extended his hand out to shake yours. “Javier–Javi.” 

That was followed by the same gesture from Steve. 

“They were supposed to bring you to drop your bags off first.” Javi started to complain as he began walking inside the building.

“I told them to bring me here, I can drop my bags off whenever I go home. Wanted to meet the team and get briefed as soon as possible.” You spoke up, quick to keep up with both of the men who were holding the door open for you. 

As you entered the building you took in everything, making mental notes of every detail you thought would be important. The sign that listed each floor, where the bathrooms were, where each emergency exit was located. It almost made you miss the look Steve and Javi gave each other after you explained your eagerness to work. 

“I got myself familiar with all the notes on the plane but, I figured first hand accounts would be better. I know better than to believe everything that’s in the paperwork.” You spoke as you entered the elevator. 

“Yea well, things are–” Javier paused his sentence to think about what to say, how to describe what you were getting into. 

“A shitshow.” Steve interrupted him to finish the thought. 

Mentally you noted that Steve was the more honest one, not one to get flustered by the presence of a woman. He was likely married, or in some serious commitment, and whether that was with a woman or his job you respected it. You nodded with a smile, answering him briefly with a some response about how it isn't always with the DEA or something of that nature before your eyes moved back over to Javier to get a read on him. 

Before you could nail down a thought, the elevator doors were opening and the group of you were moving fast. 

“Weaver and Wisnicki, meet our new DEA special agent.” Javier introduced you by name. 

You were quick to let go of your bags and reach over to shake hands and correct the title he gave you. “Supervising Special Agent.” 

Steve let out a chuckle before continuing the greeting. “Javi what is it you called these guys? R.I.P? Retired in place?” 

You let out a chuckle, you weren’t going to shit on what these two did, you weren’t here for that and with the amount of time you spent at work, you needed to make friends where possible. 

“Hey, we all earn it.” You lifted your hands up in an act of innocence. “It was nice meeting you two.” 

As the group of you moved through the different sections of the floor you got introduced to other agents, the Mil group, and the ambassador. Each group introduction went well. By the end of your journey, Javier was suggesting you leave your bags at his desk before they drove you in to meet the Search Bloc, seeing as you were about to go on an intel mission with them in the next 5 hours. 

“Now we should give you a heads up.” Steve spoke up as the car you were in pulled into Carlos Holguin School. “Colonel Carrillo can be–”

“Walking up right now.” Javier interrupted as he put the car in park and exited the vehicle. 

Steve was quick to look up and see that the Colonel wasn’t walking up, it was just his men approaching to escort the lot of you in. 

“No he’s not!” Murphy yelled before turning to you in the back seat. “He can be a bit of dick. Apparently a common trait around here.” His eyes went back to Peña before he was exiting the passenger door himself. 

You smiled to yourself at that. It was enjoyable to you to see the back and forth between the two men. 

The silence overcame the group of you as you were brought to an office door, the plaque on the outside reading Colonel Carrillo was a little outdated in style, meant he had a few years on his belt. 

As the door was opened by one of the search bloc soldiers, Javi began speaking. 

“Buenos días, Colonel.” 

The minute a voice responded, you felt your gut flinch, if that was even possible, before it sunk. Your head was whipping up to look at the major, taking in his green uniform, the badge on his chest, and finally, his face. 

Javier and him were mumbling to each other as they shook hands, leaving you to take in who it was in front of you right now. 

It wasn’t so much nerves you were feeling, you would have described it more as shock. Which, shock felt a lot similar to a panic attack. The noise in your ears got fuzzy, there was a slight buzzing in the background and your face went blank. 

“You alright?” Steve cut through the fuzziness in your ears, luckily and brought you back to reality. 

“Yea sorry, just fucked up from the time difference and the flight.” You shook your head and masked the shock you were feeling. 

“I want you to meet our new DEA supervising special agent.” Javi spoke up, calling the attention to you now. 

His eyes met yours, and the smile that slightly curved on his face tipped you off that he recognized you immediately. You saw his mouth move slightly open and before Javi or him could say your name you were quick to cut them both off by speaking it outloud and move towards them, extending your arm to greet the man. 

If that wasn’t enough to get the point across to the Colonel, your next words would have been. 

“Mucho gusto.” You smiled and prayed he didn’t say or do anything that would give away your connection. 

“Mucho gusto.” He spoke back to you with a frown. 

“We’re gonna move out and get intel in about an hour.” Steve spoke up from the back. 

“Murphy.” Carrillo spoke up, his face hardening as he stared at the man. 

With the context you had just gotten from Steve, you now realized that what Murphy meant in the car was, Carrillo was a dick to him. If you weren’t in the middle of this clusterfuck of a situation, you would have smiled, maybe even chuckled a bit but your mind was still trying to wrap itself around what was happening. 

“We’ll get out of your hair, just wanted to introduce you to the fresh meat.” Javi smiled at you. 

“Wait.” Carrillo spoke up and your gut did that flinching thing again. “I’d love to know more about what this means for your team, Peña.” 

You heard Javi start to make a noise, it was something adjacent to stuttering. His way of not wanting to devalue himself or shit on you while you were in the room. 

“My title doesn’t really pull weight, it’s just for the paperwork. I’m basically going to be working closely with Peña and Murphy on intel and raids. Only difference is my signature gets added to the documents.” You spoke up, looking back at the men behind you as you spoke. 

“Have you gotten a tour of Medellin yet, special agent?” 

He was teasing you. When you met him in Colombia all those years ago, that was exactly what he did. Give you a tour. He showed you the plaza, the museums, the best restaurants you never would have found otherwise. And again, in any other circumstance you would have been amused, but mortified was more the right word to describe your emotions at the moment. The comment was more obvious to you than anyone else in the room. It helped that Steve and Javi were oblivious to everything that wasn’t Escobar related so they weren’t exactly picking up on what was happening. 

“She flew in this morning, her bags are back at the embassy at my desk, she didn’t even get settled before jumping on the case.” Javi spoke up. 

“I’ll have it arranged that your bags are picked up and brought here.” Carrillo wasn’t even looking at any of you anymore. He was rummaging through paperwork at his desk. 

When no one responded he looked up to be met with confused looks. His eyes jumped from Steve to Javi to you. “Paperwork, after the intel trip. Going to need your signatures.” 

“Right.” You said it was obvious the entire time. 

“Alright, I’ll make the arrangements and meet you all at 1300.” He went back to looking at his paperwork, ignoring all 3 of you. 

It took you a couple seconds to make your feet move but eventually you were able to and out of his office. Steve was now leading the way to where you would meet a few more of the Search Bloc crew and gather up gear for the trip you were about to take. 

Luckily, the intel mission wasn’t awkward at all. Carrillo put his professional foot forward, as did you and as you all waited in the room for all the Narcos to show up there was no more tense or nervousness in the air. He clearly picked up on you not wanting to out any of your past personal life to Steve and Javier and quite honestly, he understood that. Having more time to think on it and not being thrown for a loop in the moment, he felt relieved about it too. These were not exactly the typical running into your ex conditions, this was work, this was catching a drug cartel and their leaders, this needed to be as far away from personal as possible. 

That was what both of you told yourselves. It was what you told yourself on the way back, while you sat next to each other in the car, when Javi leaned forward to tell you that the restaurant coming up had the best arepas de choclo. You knew that, because that was where you and Horacio would go when you were craving late night foods. And it was what you told yourself now, as you all pulled back up to the Carlos Holguin School and the awkwardness came back over you. 

“I had one of my men take your bags to where you’re staying.” Carrillo said as the group of you gathered together on the dirt lot. 

“We would have taken them back, her place is on the first level where me and Steve stay.” Javi spoke up, his hands resting on his hips. 

“One last thing we gotta lug back home from the embassy.” Steve shrugged as he leaned over to shake Carrillo’s hand in an effort to say goodbye.

“Wasn’t a big deal, I have a few men working at the embassy, keeps communication smooth.” Carrillo wasn’t in the mood to argue with Javi on this so he was quick to turn to you. “You ready to get started on this paperwork?”

“Yea, I’ll meet you in your office, let me just debrief with my guys.” You spoke confidently, anything to throw both of them off.

 All Carrillo did was nod and make his way back to his office. You turned to Steve and Javi, your face solid and serious. 

“We’ll take care of following up on the intel.” Javi spoke up now, like he was in charge. 

“I’ll give you a call on what the next move is.” Steve was cutting Javi off, staring at him with a frown before moving his eyes on to you. 

You nodded once, then turned to Javi. “Call me fresh meat one more time and I’ll be sure you’re riding desk for the rest of this case and you’ll be the one staying late to run through paperwork.” 

It was harsh, but true. You were new, but you weren’t stupid. Regardless of anything, you pulled rank over these two, whether it truly mattered or not. There was no room for disrespect. 

“See you two in the morning.” You offered them a goodbye and made your way over to the main entrance. Steve’s laugh could have been heard from even inside the building, it was obvious he was making fun of Javi, of what you just said. It was good, set the tone amongst them. 

The walk down the hallway was long, your head was filling with tons of thoughts, of memories, your heart was beating so fast it was a surprise it wasn’t coming out of your chest. As your hand rested on the doorknob of Carrillo’s office, you took a beat, a moment to take a deep breath and exhale it out as the door opened. 

Carrillo was sitting at his desk, his green button up shirt that houses his name patch and badge was hung on a coat rack in the corner, he was at his desk with just his tan t shirt on, the only light illuminating the room was the outdoor lights from the windows behind him and the desk lamp that was showing the frown on his face as he shuffled through things on his desk. 

“Thanks for going along with it.” You spoke up, alerting him of your presence. The immediate thought you had was why you were starting the conversation with that. There were a million other things you could have said. 

His head shot up, he clearly had not heard you open the door or your heart practically thumping out of your chest. 

“It’s no problem.” He answered you. “I hope you set Peña straight.” He was standing up now, moving his hand to the chair across his desk offering for you to sit. 

“Set straight?” You were confused, as you made your way to sit down. 

“Fresh meat.” He said as he sat back down himself. 

“Oh, yea. That won’t be happening again.” You let out a chuckle, still fidgeting around in the seat trying to get comfortable. 

“It’s probably good you thought quick, what happened with us… it’s just more fuel to the fire for him.” Carrillo was leaning on his desk, elbows resting on the stacks of documents. 

“What did happen with us?” The question came out so blunt it even shocked you. 

“You went back.” It was said like it was so obvious. Like those 3 words were the answer to it all. 

“I sent you letters.” The vibe had definitely changed from just mere minutes ago. 

Carrillo didn’t say anything, he sat there silent, his face neutral like that would be enough of an answer for you. 

“It’s crazy how you can know someone for just short of a year, spend pretty much everyday with them, learn the most intimate things about them, and truly know absolutely nothing about them.” 

“What are you talking about?” He was annoyed, and because of the time you spent with him, you knew it was deflection, a way to get out of the conversation, but you weren’t going to let it go that easily. 

“You never told me you were an aspiring police officer.” You pointed to the badged shirt on the rack. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you told me you wanted to come to the states, study, learn about architecture, the details of the buildings that people are so quick to dismiss.” It was a pretty direct quote from a young Horacio’s mouth.

“I joined 4 months after you left. Things got bad here. After that incident where– where you got hurt. I couldn’t shake it.” He explained thinking back to one of the last memories of you here with him. It wasn’t one either of you liked to remember, you had a permanent scar on you to remind you of it more frequently, but in Carrillo’s case it looked like he had a career profession to keep the memory alive. 

“Why did you ignore my letters?” Your voice softened now as you came to the realization that maybe you could actually come to some closure tonight. 

“We should probably start on this paperwork, make everything ready for your team to move forward tomorrow.” He was taking a stack of blank documents and handing it over to you. 

“Why did you ignore my letters, Horacio.” You spoke his name with such pleading, not just because you knew it’d get him to answer but because you truly missed saying his name in that way. 

“It was too much.” He couldn’t bear to look at you as he spoke. “Loving you and giving my all to training, to the big picture, to Colombia.” 

There it was. The most truthful thing he might have ever said to you. You knew he loved you but deep down, you always knew he loved his country. The two of you fell in love as he showed you the sights, it was written in your story for it to come down to this.

“If I had to lose you to someone I’m glad it was to her.” You managed to make a joke, just being happy that he had been honest with you. 

He smiled at that too. Now that things were a little more settled, a little less awkward, you began rummaging through the papers, filling out reports and findings, signing pre-typed notes for approvals and compliance. About 20 minutes went by when Carrillo was clearing his throat to get your attention. 

“I’m glad you’re here to fight this fight with me.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The firmness in your voice came back over you, your eyes glaring at him.

He got flustered a bit, neither of you having been in a situation where flirting, romance and charm weren’t the leading tones of your conversations. 

“I just came here for the best arepas de choclo in Colombia.” A smile grew on your face and his was soon to follow. 

He was quick to stand up and grab his jacket, which was hanging next to his badged work shirt and place it on. 

“Well I guess I better not disappoint.” He was nodding towards the door. “For old times sake? I believe that’s what they say back where you’re from.” 

You stood up and grabbed your own jacket from the back of the chair and made your way to stand in front of him, dangerously close to him, you could feel the slight breeze of his breath on you as he waited for some verbal response from you. For old time’s sake, if that was the excuse he needed to justify going to get food with you, you’d take it. To be honest if that was the excuse he needed to do anything with you, you’d allow it. Little to your knowledge, but those 4 words would end up being all the invitation either of you needed to revisit old times in the next five months, whether it was your favorite restaurant, your apartment, his house, even a couple times in his office. 

So you stared up at him, at the eyes of the man you had fallen in love with all those years ago, and despite them looking a little more dark and unruly now, you smiled and opened your mouth to speak. 

The fierce Columbian sun shined through the windows of the airport, giving Anya a bright welcome as she trudged down the stairs to customs. She dragged her suitcase behind her, duffel thrown over her shoulder carrying the remaining items of her previous life that was not already shipped down to the Embassy.

“Pasaporte, por favor.” passport, please. Digging through the inner pocket of her jacket, she pulled out her passport and required forms, handing them over to the man who was clearly tired of his job. “Gracias señora..Donato.” Thank you Mrs..Donato. He looked over the forms, stamping them and entering something into the system. “Bienvenida a Columbia.” Welcome to Columbia. He gave a tight lipped smile as he gave back her documents.

“Gracias.” Thank you. Anya replied, shoving the forms back into the pocket and continuing what seemed to be the never ending process of transferring to her new station in Columbia.

Anya walked to the ARRIVALS sign, where she was told that an agent would be picking her up. A handsome man walked towards her, his dark brown eyes scanning over your body. Perv. Anya thought, straightening her back and preparing to turn down whatever offer this man had.

“Excuse me señora, did you happen to see an agent on your flight?” Oh. Of course. He wasn’t expecting a woman to be joining. Her eyes narrowed, giving him a glare.

“I am the agent,” Anya dug through your pocket once more, showing him the shiny DEA badge before putting it back. “Señor.” His eyes widened, realizing his mistake, opening his mouth to form an apology, but she quickly cut him off. “Not another word. Can we just go now, I’m tired and ready to get the hell out of this airport.” He nodded, grabbing the handle of her suitcase and walking towards the exit. Normally, she’d argue and snatch her bag back, but she was too tired to care.

He led Anya to his black 4 door SUV, with scuffs and minor dents in it, showing its age. Throwing her bag in the back, she settled in the passenger seat. The car smelt heavily of cigarettes, which wasn’t too different from the car she sold right before heading to Columbia. If you were in the DEA, you either had a drinking problem or a smoking problem, if not both.

“I’m Javier, Javier Pena.” He was still trying to recover from his mistake earlier.

“Anya Donato. Pleasure to meet you.” Her eyes were focused on the city as they drove off, trying to get a sense of the area that she would now be living in. “Got a cigarette?” She looked towards him.

“Yeah,” He took out the pack from his front pocket, opening the carton for her to take one. “Here, lighter is in the console.” He grabbed one for himself and waited for Anya to finish lighting yours before handing the lighter to him. She took a long pull from the cigarette, letting the smoke settle in her lungs for a few seconds before breathing it out, rolling down the window half way to allow fresh air to replace the smoke.

They smoked in silence, letting the nicotine settle her nerves.

“So.. where’d you transfer from?” Javier had never felt more awkward in his life. He normally always knew what to say, but with you he was at a loss.

“New York. Got tired of the snow and the cold.” She felt a smirk form on her face when she looked at him and said, “And I think you boys needed some help down here.” He looked at you, lips twitching into a grin

“Saying we’re incompetent?”

“Perhaps.” The banter eased the awkward vibe in the car, the two continuing to smoke while Javier pointed out places, whether it be a bad neighborhood, a good dive bar, or what she was most interested in, the best food choices.

“And here we are, home sweet home..” The car pulled into the Embassy, the security guards at the gate recognizing Javier’s car and immediately let him through. “I think the ambassador already left for today, I think they said something about a meeting.” He shrugged, clearly having not paid attention. “Let’s get you checked in here then we can get you set up at your new place.” He chucked the cigarette on the ground when he got out of the car, leading to the entrance of the large building. She opted to throw your cigarette butt into the trash can, grumbling something about littering.

“Pena!” A southern drawl called out. “You were supposed to pick up the new agent, not hire a new prostit-” Javi silenced him with a look.

“Agent Anya Donato,” She stuck out her hand.

“I’m sorry ma’am. I’m Steve Murphy.” He shook her hand.

“No harm done, you aren’t the first to assume.” Anya gave a pointed glare at Javier.

“Well, uh, welcome to the team.” Steve gestured to three desks pushed together in the bullpen. “That empty one is yours.” The group meandered to the desks, Anya plopping down in the uncomfortable office chair.

“Tomorrow we’ll have Carrillo get you your gun and fitted for Kevlar. For now you should get acquainted with our favorite narco.” Javier lifted a large box labeled ESCOBAR, putting it on the desk in front of her. Anya sighed, sitting up in her chair and taking the top off the box, finding it filled to the brim with papers.

“Where’s the coffee?” Her northern accent came out with the last words.

“The caw-fee is over there.” Javier mocked her accent, snickering when she flipped him off before retrieving a cup of shitty office coffee.

~

Hours passed, Javier was clicking away on the typewriter, Steve meandering around the office, retrieving information from the different intel groups that were scattered around the building. Anya’s eyes were starting to strain, the words becoming blurry on the paper. She snatched Javier’s cigarette box from where he placed it on the far corner of the desk, he got tired of taking it out every time she wanted to steal a cigarette.

“Don’t you have your own?” He inquired, raising an eyebrow at her.

“We’ve been over this Pena, I would’ve brought my own but Uncle Sam would’ve gotten pissy about it and I haven’t exactly had time to go get my own, nor do I have a car to do so.” Anya took a puff, then quickly took a swig of coffee. Not even 24 hours in and she was already returning to her bad habits.

“How many cups have you had?”

“..4..” She mumbled around the cigarette before looking up at Javier, eyebrow raised again. “Maybe 7.”

“Shit, Donato, how long have you been awake?”

“Long enough.”

“You’ve been pouring over those papers for hours, why don’t we head out of here and go grab a drink with some of the guys?”

“You sure they’ll want me interrupting boy-time?” It was Anya’s turn to raise an eyebrow, she normally isn’t one to turn down drinks, but given the reaction she got upon first meeting her new partners, she wasn’t exactly excited to have to repeat that experience so soon.

“Of course, you’ve already interrupted it here,” Javi gestured around. “C’mon, I’m sure the trip down here wasn’t exactly easy. A few drinks could do you good.” He was pretty much begging her to come along at this point, he wanted to spend more time with her, get to know his new partner before they had to go guns-blazing into some drug lord's hideout.

“I guess so.” Anya put the lid back onto the box, downing the rest of her coffee and throwing it into the trash can near their desks. Javier quickly finished what he was typing before slinging his jacket on.

“You ready Donato?” She nodded and followed him back to his car.

~

The drive to the bar was short, the time filled with her asking clarifying questions about Escobar. Arriving at the bar, there were already other police vehicles parked. When she turned to ask him, he said, “We go here pretty much every night, it’s a good way to wind down.”

“Ah.” Anya and the New York DEA department had a place similar, except it was a 24 hour dinner/bar combo. She shook her head, not wanting to dwell on the past. She can’t afford to get emotional, especially when she’s the only woman on a team full of men. The second she shows emotion it’s over. Everything she’s ever worked for, benched and it being chalked up to being ‘too emotional’.

They exited the car, Javier leading her to the usual spot that him and Carrillo liked to sit. It was a corner booth, allowing them to monitor everyone coming in and coming out.

“Why isn’t Steve here?” Anya furrowed her eyebrows at the realization that Steve wasn’t with the group, but she saw him leave shortly before they did.

“He has a wife, Connie. She’s a sweetheart, I think you two would get along.”

“You barely know me.”

“We’ll that’s why we’re here, aren’t we?” Javier gave her a smile, and she couldn’t help but give him a slight grin in return. Approaching the corner booth, Anya noticed a man already sitting at the table, but he stood up upon seeing the two walking towards him. His stare was intense, she could tell he was trying to get a read on her. He was undeniably handsome, but in a different way than Javier. Javier was charming, definitely an expert in flirting and wooing a woman. The stranger was just… hot. His uniform fit tightly around his biceps, a 5 o’clock shadow sculpting his face, a watch decorating his arms that she wished were—

Get a grip, Anya. She cursed herself out in her own head as she ogled at the man.

“Carrillo, cómo estás?” Carrillo, how are you? Javier greeted the man.

“Quien es tu amiga?” Who’s your friend? Carrillo ignored his question, nodding to Anya.

“¿Recuerdas que mencioné que íbamos a conseguir un nuevo socio?” Remember me mentioning we were getting a new partner?

“Soy Anya, Anya Donato.” I’m Anya. She could tell that the man was surprised that the new partner was a woman, him continuing to analyze her every move.

“Colonel Carrillo.” His hand dwarfed Anya’s when they went to shake hands, they were warm, she could feel the calluses formed by years of hard work. Javier gestured for them to sit, him sliding in next to her and Carrillo sitting opposite of them. There was already a bowl of peanuts at the table, broken and discarded shells in a bowl next to it. Carrillo had obviously been munching on some before they arrived.

The waitress came by, dropping off menus and taking drink orders. The men had ordered whiskey.

“Aqua y…” Anya thought for a moment, deciding what drink she was in the mood for. Glancing over the menu, she decided to go with a classic Columbian cocktail. “Refajo por favor.” Water and a Refajo please. Carrillo and Javier gave her a quizzical look. “What? When in Rome..” She grabbed a peanut and cracked it while looking over the menu. Anya leaned over to Javier. “What’s good here?”

Carrillo was captivated by the woman. He certainly wasn’t expecting her when Javier said him and Steve were getting a new partner. While she was shorter than the two of them, she carried herself with the same confidence, even while having to look up to meet his eyes. He watched as she glanced over the menu with her big brown eyes while ordering her drink, the slight shade of pink that crossed her cheeks when they questioned her drink choice. Carrillo slightly tensed when she leaned over to Javier, a sense of jealousy sparking. Reúnanse, Horacio. Get yourself together, Horacio. He cussed himself out in his head.

“If you’re looking to try something local, you could try the Bandeja Paisa. It’s our National dish.” Carrillo grabbed another peanut as he spoke, cracking the shell with ease. He watched her fidget with the peanut in her hand while she looked for the dish on the menu.

“Yeah, I’ll try that. Thank you Carrillo.” Anya gave him a warm smile as she pulled back from Javier, placing the menu on the edge of the table so it was easier for the waitress to grab when she came back. The waitress quickly returned with their drinks and took their orders, Carrillo got a steak and Javier got a burger.

Anya finally attempted to crack the peanut, finding herself unable to. Carrillo noticed and raised an eyebrow, glancing at the peanut then back at her. She tried playing it off as if she was just fidgeting with it.

“Son of a bitch.” Anya muttered under her breath after a couple more tries. She could throw vicious punches, down a man twice her size in hand to hand combat, but she couldn’t crack a damn peanut.

Javier watched her out of the corner of his eye, a small smirk appearing on his face when he noticed her struggling with the peanut. It was cute watching her try to play it off when Carrillo noticed, but he could see the pink return shortly there after. Javier had snuck off earlier to read her file, the ambassador had given it to him and Murphy days prior, but they didn’t bother reading it, assuming it’d be another guy like them. He read about her work in New York, how she helped take down some Cali Cartel members. Anya would go in undercover, taking down sicarios in club’s bathroom in a dress and heels when she would lead them back there for what they assumed to be sex.

After watching her suffer with the damn peanut for a few more moments, he reached down to grab it, easily cracking it and handing it to her.

“Thanks.” Anya muttered, the blush returning to her cheeks, redder than before. She munched on the peanuts while she grabbed another, yet again failing to crack it on her own. Javier chuckled and helped her crack it again. This repeated until they had a cycle of Anya handing him a peanut and him cracking it for her, dropping the peanuts into her hand and putting the shells in the bowl.

The spark of jealousy returned in Carrillo when he watched Anya finally relinquish the peanut to Javier. Es un puto maní. Para. It’s a fucking peanut. Stop. Carrillo returned to insulting himself in his own head, but he couldn’t help s small twitch of a smirk when Anya’s blush returned to her face.

“So tell me about the Rumpus Room.” Javier asked Anya while he cracked yet another peanut for her.

“That shitty place? Finally decide to read my file, asshole?” Anya snorted and took another sip of her drink.

“Call me an asshole all you want but I’m the one cracking your peanuts, gringa.” Javier waved the peanut in front of her.

“Gringa? Come up with something original, lindo.” Pretty boy. She swatted his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“Wonder where you learned that one,” He gave her the unshelled peanuts. “You gonna tell us or what?” He took a sip of his whiskey.

“Nothin’ much to say,” Anya said between crunches. “Awful place, smelled like cat piss.” She scrunched her nose. “Wasn’t anyone high profile, just a trafficker of theirs. Put on a tight red dress, strutted into the club and I had him in an instant. Practically drooled over me.” She shook her head. “We danced a bit and I whispered some..” Anya was worried of the reaction she would get, her plan worked well, but some think she’s promiscuous and a whore for how she took down these men. “Something dirty in his ear and led him to the back. Disarmed him quickly and just beat the shit out of him. Nothing special.” She practically chugged her drink, trying to ignore whatever reaction the two men had.

Well, there certainly was a reaction in their pants.

“In a dress and heels,” Javier whistled. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Best not.” Anya let out a sigh of relief, neither of these men seemed to care about her unorthodox methods.

“You went in there without a weapon?” Carrillo’s fists were clenched, how could her superiors put her in such a dangerous position?

“Can’t hide much in a skin tight dress,” She shrugged, finishing off her drink. “Though I did hide a knife in my bra. My boss didn’t know about that.” A smirk came to her face. Carrillo did not find any of this funny. No backup or weapons, what if they had caught onto her? Over his dead body would he send—

Para, para, para. Stop, stop, stop. Carrillo pleaded with his mind once more as the waitress returned with refills and their meals.

The rest of dinner was filled with exchanges of stories, both men finding themselves enamored with the lively stories Anya told, the alcohol and time spent together making her feel more and more comfortable with the two. She was hungrier than expected, digging into her Bandeja Paisa.

“My god Carrillo!” Anya praised Carrillo for his recommendation, which was something he definitely wanted to hear again.

It was about midnight when Javier noticed Anya starting to slump, the lack of sleep starting to catch up with her.

“I’m okay seriously, I feel fine.” She felt the alcohol hitting her.

“You’re clearly tired, c’mon carñira, it’s time to get you home.” He groaned when he realized her apartment was empty, that was something they were meant to do before she arrived.

“Qué es?” What is it? Carrillo noticed the look on Javi’s face.

“Her apartment is empty. We were meant to get the essentials moved in before she arrived but with everything—”

“Bendejo.” Idiot. Carrillo muttered. “Ella puede quedarse en mi casa esta noche, tengo una habitación de invitados preparada.” She can stay at my house tonight, I have a guest room set up. Javier eyed him, jealousy blooming in his mind. “Que? Quieres que duerma en la misma cama donde te follaste a las prostitutas?” What? You want her sleeping in the same bed you fucked prostitutes? Javier knew he was right, he wasn’t prepared for someone to stay over.

“My Spanish is good but I think I’m a bit drunk, fill me in?” Anya seemed to sober up a tad after nursing her glass of water.

“I may have forgotten to set up the furniture in your apartment..”

“You can stay at my house tonight, I have a guest room.”

“Oh. Yeah that.. that works, just need to grab my bags from his car.”

“Consider it done.”

~

“There you go. Take care of her.” Javier gave a slight glare at Carrillo, warning him if anything happened to her. Stop it Javi. You just met her today. She isn’t yours. “Goodnight, carñira. See you tomorrow.” He shut the back door of Carrillo’s car, where he had brought her bags over.

~

The drive to Carrillo’s house was quiet, Anya looking out the window and gazing at the city’s lights.

Upon arrival, he insisted on opening her door for her, wrapping his hand around her waist to make sure she didn’t trip up the stairs to his house. He knew she wouldn’t trip, she knew she wouldn’t trip, but neither said a word and played along with the excuse.

“Make yourself at home, here’s the guest bedroom,” He opened a door on the left. “Sorry about the boxes in there, work seems to follow me home.”

“Oh no worries, I’m the same.” The evidence boxes were neatly stacked in the corner, all of them combined was definitely taller than her.

“Bathroom is through that door,” Carrillo pointed to the door on the opposite wall. “And that door is my room, so if you need anything don’t be afraid to ask.” She nodded. There was an awkward pause between them, before Anya spoke.

“Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Not a problem, I’ll sleep better knowing you’re here rather than a hotel in the city.” Or Javi’s apartment. Both of them knew the unspoken words. She did pick up a few words from their earlier conversation, something about in the same bed as fucking prostitutes let her everything she needed to know about Javi’s habits. “Goodnight, Anya.”

His nose trails the underside of your covered breast, a teasing half circle of pressure. Breath warms the satin of your camisole along your ribcage—simultaneously rousing and frustrating, weaving and tightening invisible hot lines from between your legs, belly, and prettily puckered tips.

He nips at one. A sharp sudden tweak that makes your hips jerk and hands push into his shoulders. His tongue darts to flick the same spot, leaving a small wet patch in the fabric to cool.

On this one subject Carrillo is a very predictable man. Always cupping them from behind in the shower—anchoring you to his front. Burying his face in them when you ride him, seeming to add a layer of pleasure more to his own release than yours. On early morning calls to the field, he’ll drop a kiss to your sleeping form, but not before giving one a squeeze—his little goodbye.

You let out a soft chuckle at the thought which gets his attention.

You bite your lip to keep another from escaping.

‘Lo siento, mi amor.’

Your Spanish is limited which he usually finds endearing. The tiniest of ticks to a corner of his mouth signals this moment is no different.

Biting the top lace trim, he pulls down. The thin strap falls over your shoulder baring a single breast. Skin blossoms with goosebumps, nipple tightens from being exposed. He kisses the side—once, higher twice—before taking the peak deep in his open warm, wet mouth. It’s a sudden assault of long suckling pulls so strong it leaves you mewling under the solid weight of his body.

You forgot—how could you? you’ll later reflect—Carrillo could be like this. Excruciatingly brutal and precise even in the comforting dimensions of the bedroom. Sending fragments of those sharp divine points out of your body before ripping them back in. Reaching out once more for sweet finality before being snatched back to square one.

‘Horacio,’ you whisper.

He ignores you.

‘Please. Horacio.’

He pulls away, now nose to nose, looking down with lazy authority.

‘Please, what?’

You tilt up for a kiss but he pulls just out of the way.

Your jaw ticks.

Tightening your legs around his waist, too piqued to participate in this agonizing game he’s wanting to play.

‘Touch me.’

His mouth barely turns down, feigning the slightest bit of confusion, while his eyes flicker with that special brand of devilment.

‘I am touching you.’ He squeezes you to make a point.

‘’You know what I mean,’ you exhale.

His rubs the tip of his nose back and forth with yours. The corner of his mouth twitches.

‘Mmm, I prefer touching you here.’

In a series of smooth motions, the other strap is tugged, maneuvering your arms through them both until the top is bunched at the waist. He moves back down to cup both tits—holding them with intent in one place.

You look down the valley of your chest as he laves the neglected one with a long thick lick before latching on. Twisting the tip of the other between his thumb and pointer finger in synchronized torment.

Your eyes roll back, arching your body further into his mouth.

The center of your pleasure is unequally split between throbbing from your core, tilting heavily towards the radiating attentions of his tongue, teeth and hands. You try to grind against his stomach looking for any kind of conventional, direct relief. But he lifts up, spoiling your efforts.

Frustration groans in your throat. A hand drops the grip on his hair to travel between your bodies before being yanked above your head, along with the other now held by his one hand.

Your legs respond by squeezing his thick middle so tight before running down the taut muscles of his ass and thighs, then back up. Rolling your hips at, tragically, nothing.

But between the addictive painful pinching and pulling on your left, the mountainous deep pleasure building on your right, the ghosting of a strained build up between your legs, you are locked into a tight unstoppable path to something new and intense.

‘Oh god,’ you choke. ‘Don’t stop.’

Your breath staccatos as the climax hits you hard in your chest before shooting down to the lowest point of your belly. He releases your wrists—a small bout of mercy. One hand grasps his that had been holding it, in a shaking entwining of fingers. Your other buries into his scalp, almost certain you’re pulling out hair.

He groans.

It’s quick. And soon the prickling shocks punctuate every other breath you take, led on by his final little bites to both nipples.

With ears buzzing you huff a satisfied laugh—blinking slowly at the ceiling still inwardly returning to yourself—before looking down at a very proud Carrillo. His chin rests on your sternum, observing your comedown from absolutely no contact with your cunt. There’s an arrogant lightness in his clear dark eyes. Mouth edging into a less innocent version of a smile. Like he also can’t believe what just happened, but that he was the sole contributor to your newly discovered undoing.

You have the subtlest temptation to slap the look off his face. Instead you palm the front which draws out a soft laugh.

‘Not a word,’ you warn as he moves up and wraps you into his body.

‘Not one, mi amor.’

………………………………………………………………………………

but he wasn’t here. he wasn’t here to wipe away the tears that streamed down your cheeks, your lower lip quivering. your knees buckled, hand instinctively reaching out to the counter to steady yourself.

swallowing thickly, you let out a shaky whimper as the pad of your thumb brushes your eye, soaking up a tear. sobs bubble up in your throat, threatening to spill out at any given moment.

i wish you were here, horacio. more than anything. fuck. fuck. fuck.

gritting your teeth, you spit out a string of curses as the memories taunt you, the horrid images of that night. they seemed to linger, residing in the back of your head. they were always there, it seemed. as hard as you fought, as hard as you tried the attempts were in vain.

the memories of that night were there to stay.

your husband, your love, your soulmate was dead. and that was never going to change.

a wail echoes through the room as the recollection floods your vision.

horacio, lying still. his body so mangled and damaged you could barely even recognize him. his handsome face, his warm eyes, his dashing smile, those were all ripped away from him the second the bullet collided with his flesh.

you were numb, oh so numb that night. swept away by disbelief, the shock piercing you to the bone.

and you were numb now, burying your face in your hands on the kitchen floor, sobs wracking your body. the noises were inaudible, a flurry of: why did you leave me? why was it so soon? why didn’t we get to spend the rest of our lives together?

why did he take you away from me so suddenly?

yet, you could sense whispers of him after he left, filling that void of his absence.

you heard his laughter as the breeze rolled through your home, the sound so husky yet so smooth. you could feel his fingertips, ghosting the concave of your collarbone. you almost could feel his lips on yours at times, kissing you so tenderly.

you saw him in your dreams, those bright eyes falling on you, the mocha depths bursting with an emotion you could only describe as pure, abundant love. you witnessed his mouth, which normally bore a frown, curve into a warm grin, teeth flashing pearly white. you felt his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you in for a hug, holding you tightly against his chest.

you saw him in the sunset and sunrise, dancing within those vivid colors, soaking you in rays of light. you sensed the gentle peck of goodnight and good morning on your temple. some days, you swore you heard a voice. his voice, reminding you of how much he loved you. how he missed you too.

god, did you miss him. it was an aching feeling, seeping into every part of you.

yet, you knew he was here. every second. every minute. every hour. every day. he was watching over you, somehow, some way.

it brought a sense of peace over you, putting your restless heart at ease.

and that feeling was enough to keep you here, until the day you reunited once more.

for now, you’d settle on the whispers of him.

but he wasn’t here. he wasn’t here to wipe away the tears that streamed down your cheeks, your lower lip quivering. your knees buckled, hand instinctively reaching out to the counter to steady yourself. 

swallowing thickly, you let out a shaky whimper as the pad of your thumb brushes your eye, soaking up a tear. sobs bubble up in your throat, threatening to spill out at any given moment. 

i wish you were here, horacio. more than anything. fuck. fuck. fuck. 

gritting your teeth, you spit out a string of curses as the memories taunt you, the horrid images of that night. they seemed to linger, residing in the back of your head. they were always there, it seemed. as hard as you fought, as hard as you tried the attempts were in vain. 

the memories of that night were there to stay. 

your husband, your love, your soulmate was dead. and that was never going to change. 

a wail echoes through the room as the recollection floods your vision. 

horacio, lying still. his body so mangled and damaged you could barely even recognize him. his handsome face, his warm eyes, his dashing smile, those were all ripped away from him the second the bullet collided with his flesh. 

you were numb, oh so numb that night. swept away by disbelief, the shock piercing you to the bone. 

and you were numb now, burying your face in your hands on the kitchen floor, sobs wracking your body. the noises were inaudible, a flurry of: why did you leave me? why was it so soon? why didn’t we get to spend the rest of our lives together?

why did he take you away from me so suddenly? 

yet, you could sense whispers of him after he left, filling that void of his absence. 

you heard his laughter as the breeze rolled through your home, the sound so husky yet so smooth. you could feel his fingertips, ghosting the concave of your collarbone. you almost could feel his lips on yours at times, kissing you so tenderly. 

you saw him in your dreams, those bright eyes falling on you, the mocha depths bursting with an emotion you could only describe as pure, abundant love. you witnessed his mouth, which normally bore a frown, curve into a warm grin, teeth flashing pearly white. you felt his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you in for a hug, holding you tightly against his chest. 

you saw him in the sunset and sunrise, dancing within those vivid colors, soaking you in rays of light. you sensed the gentle peck of goodnight and good morning on your temple. some days, you swore you heard a voice. his voice, reminding you of how much he loved you. how he missed you too. 

god, did you miss him. it was an aching feeling, seeping into every part of you. 

yet, you knew he was here. every second. every minute. every hour. every day. he was watching over you, somehow, some way. 

it brought a sense of peace over you, putting your restless heart at ease. 

and that feeling was enough to keep you here, until the day you reunited once more. 

for now, you’d settle on the whispers of him.