Ok but the classic “there’s only one bed”? How would Carrillo, Steve, and Javi react?
Javi is tired. The trip was long and he didn’t get any sleep, but when he sees that the hotel or wherever ya’ll are holed up in only has one bed, he still offers it to you. His voice is unenthusiastic and maybe aggravated because his back hurts and he has a crick in his neck, his eyelids weighing heavy, but hey he still offers.
And you’re just as tired, looking at the couch with a wrinkled nose and distrust, and you don’t even think about it before you speak, claiming that the bed is big enough for two because you don’t want to take your chances with the couch and you don’t want him to either.
And just like that it’s settled, the both of you taking turns in the bathroom to change and then crawling into bed without much preamble, only thinking of clean sheets and a pillow instead of how close you two would be, are now as you lay on opposite sides, backs facing each other to still keep up the appearance of coworkers even now.
Sometime in the night you’ll shuffle closer and an arm is wrapped around someone’s waist, holding onto them like a lifeline in the darkness but for now you both drift off, comfortable and safe in each other’s presence.
For Steve it’s a forgone conclusion: he’s taking the couch and that’s all there is to it.
The hillbilly doesn’t even ask, just yawns as he grabs a pillow from the made up bed and throws it on the couch while you’re in the bathroom, taking his shoes off and running a hand over his face because he swears he’s not that old and yet the trip seemed to have kicked at least part of his ass.
He blames general stress and sleep deprivation for it, lord knows you don’t exactly have easy jobs.
So when you come out and pull up short, asking what he’s doing, he’s just a little surprised.
“Trying to sleep?” Even to him it sounds more like a question than anything else, and his eyebrows knit when you scoff and wave your hand at him, gesturing for him to get up.
“We’re both exhausted, just get in the bed, Steve.” You’re friends. That’s why you’re offering. You’re friends and you don’t want to see your friend sleep on what has to be an uncomfortable couch, too short and too narrow and you tell yourself that the last thing you need is him rolling off of it in the middle of the night and hitting his head on the coffee table.
He tries to protest, still keeping up the noble gentleman act but you cut off and tell him to go get changed already, snuggling yourself down into the covers and your tone brooking no argument.
He can do this.
He can sleep in the same bed as you without any issue— like you said, you’re both exhausted and he doesn’t want you taking the couch, so it’s a win win.
He doesn’t acknowledge the fact that maybe his heart rate has picked up a little because maybe he’s been harboring a little crush on you and if you share a bed he wants to be wrapped up in you but he digresses. He changes out of the clothes he’s been wearing for the last what feels like day and a half and turns off the lamp you left on for him, crawling in next to you.
You’re facing the door and he’s facing you, and after a few moments he finally closes his eyes.
Like Steve, for Carrillo it’s not even a discussion.
He’s taking the couch, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
Except for you, telling him that the couch is too small for you let alone him, and that the last thing you need to deal with in the morning is him sleep deprived and grumpier than usual.
You have an odd relationship with the man, something that sways between being coworkers only and friends and maybe something else, and maybe it’s because you’re alone that you’re being so adamant about this. Away from the office and prying eyes and listening ears, at least for this one night.
(You truly don’t want to deal with him after he sleeps on a couch, but you’re also thinking he’s probably just as stiff as you are after the trip and what kind of friend/whatever you are would you be if you let him subject himself to that? At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.)
He takes a bit more convincing than Javi or Steve, but finally he relents, his mouth set in a hard line and you might think he’s actually angry about it, but the expression on his face is bleeding into something else when you lay down, adjusting your pillow until you’re comfortable.
Something you pretend not to see as you turn the lamp off, closing your eyes before you do something truly stupid that you can’t take back.
He slides between you and the door and you think he’s closer than he really ought to be, feeling the mattress dip with his weight and you know if you lifted your hand you could reach out and touch him without trying, and there’s a comfort in that thought that you don’t want to analyze right this second, instead only soaking it up.
You’ve always had trouble sleeping in new places, but Carrillo is familiar and reassuring and within minutes you’re out like a light.
javier having suspicions that carillo and reader are a thing and one night when all three of them went out, javier flirt with her constantly throughout the night to get carillo to react (of course reader has to follow along for some reason: maybe bcs of the drinks?) and carillo cant stand it, what would he do thoughh... ? 👀👀
Okay I’m putting this under a cut because I may have gotten a little carried away
Javi’s a shit.
Javi’s a protective shit though, because you’re his friend and he cares about you and when he first started getting suspicious, maybe he caught a look that was supposed to only be between you and Carrillo, maybe the act had slipped and Carrillo had smiled, his face soft and open when you said or did something in particular, Javier didn’t know how to feel about it.
He’s not a complete fool— he knows all your jobs are inherently dangerous but it’s Carrillo. If anyone has a bigger target on their back than a DEA agent it’s the person in charge of the Search Bloc.
He wants to confront you about it and ask what the hell you were thinking because let’s be honest, him and Carrillo aren’t exactly buddy buddy. They work together, they tolerate each other, Javi wouldn’t exactly pick the man as his first choice to set you up with.
But he wants you to confide in him, wants you to feel like you can trust him enough to let him on the secret, except you haven’t been and it’s getting on his nerves a little, so he comes up with a better idea than confronting you outright: manipulation.
Him flirting with you isn’t anything new, in fact if he just stopped cold turkey one day you would think something was wrong with the man.
What is new is the full court press when you’re all out together, the boys having dragged you out on a night that was supposed to be your own and Carrillo sandwiched between Javier and Steve much like you are, the four of you clustered around a small table.
You’re more used to Javier getting distracted halfway through the night, following one woman or another up to the bar or asking someone to dance and leaving you to your own devices, but not tonight.
You think he’s up to something, that the sparkle in his eye is more than just the lights above you reflecting back, but you smile. You smile and banter, trying not to look at Carrillo too often because you can feel his eyes on you and you can’t look at him when he’s not speaking, can’t give any indication that there’s something there because you think Javier is trying to dig for it.
And Carrillo’s jealous.
He’s jealous of the fact that Javier can say all those things to you and have you laugh and grin, playing along and no one bats an eye. Maybe it’s because Javier is who he is, how it’s practically ingrained into him and no one stops to think twice about it. Maybe it’s because you’re friends outside of work and people know it and don’t care. All he knows is that Javier has more freedom with you and Carrillo hates it.
But, credit to the both of you, neither of you break. You come close but you manage to make it out of bar unscathed and they all walk you to your car if you drove yourself or you hitch a ride with Javi and/or Steve, only telling Carrillo good night when you part and nothing more.
Before the night is through someone is going over to the other’s place though, because maybe it’s a weekend, a shared day off when you can sleep in instead of scrambling to get ready so someone can leave, so that you can stagger the times you walk into work.
Carrillo’s all over you when he finally gets you alone, as if he’s making up for lost time and you think that he is, that you both are. Making up for all the times you wanted to reach out and grab his hand or kiss him, to purposefully sit next to him and lean your body into his.
You spend the night wrapped up in each other and Javi’s still at square one.
Here’s a thot!!! Carrillo and a breeding kink woofffff! 🥵
Okay listen.
Logically he knows kids are a bad idea right now; there’s too much going on, too much instability and too much danger to bring a kid into that. He wants to be around for them, not leave every morning and not know if he’s going to make it back for dinner.
But sometimes he’ll catch himself thinking about it, daydreaming just a little.
He gets caught up in the act of actually making the kid a lot, thinking about you carrying his child, something that takes the best of him and the best of you to make something perfect and he loses his mind just a little.
Because Carrillo is just possessive enough that it drives him crazy, makes his blood run hotter and you love every bit of it.
You love it because somehow on the nights where you talk about it, some foggy idea of a possible future or after a night spent watching a friend’s little munchkin, Horacio is somehow more intense.
He holds you tighter, pressing his hips impossibly close and if you had enough presence of mind to think through the pleasure, through the way he’s making you shake and whine deep in your throat, you might wonder how.
How he manages to make you feel so unraveled, how his mouth seems to be everywhere at once and making you burn brighter and brighter without giving you the chance to catch your breath, turning it into some razor-sharp thing that you can’t get enough of.
Waking up Carrillo with a blow job? Its one of those days where he doesn’t have to go to work early so he can sleep in- but you don’t let him off the hook that easy. He deserves a good orgasm. His mind is hazy when he wakes up and barely registers what’s going because all he knows is your mouth is wet and warm and- fuck!
The first inklings happen when you’re at the bar with Javi and Steve in tow, celebrating one thing or another so you all are a little more jovial than usual. Somehow the topic of being woken up with oral comes up and everyone puts their two cents in, tipsy enough that discussing their sex lives with coworkers and friends seems like the right idea.
You don’t care about Javi and Steve, your attention focusing on Carrillo in a way that you hope isn’t too obvious when he opens his mouth to speak. You file in the information away for later when you can act on it, away from prying eyes and where you don’t have to pretend like nothing is going on.
Horacio can’t stop thinking about, looking over just in time to see the tricky look in your eyes and poorly concealed smirk behind your drink. Javi and Steve were too caught up in the conversation itself to notice thank god, but he did. You can’t act on it right away for one reason or another but the day finally comes when it’s a bright Saturday morning and you’ve stayed the night, neither of you have anywhere to be and by some miracle you’ve manage to wake up before him.
You manage to move down his body without him waking and you’re slow when you slide the sheets off, taking a few moments to just admire the way he looks like this. It’s rare you get to see him asleep like this, relaxed and no tension in his body. No furrow his brow or set in his jaw.
It almost makes you forget your goal and snuggle back up with him, but he’s been working so hard lately and he did tell you that he’s wanted this, has wondered what it must feel like when the first thing you’re conscious of is pleasure.
So you start to stroke him through the fabric of his underwear, nice and slow and feeling his cock hardening underneath your palm. You think you hear his breathing deepen, feel him shift on the bed when you squeeze your fingers around him and you almost leap back like it’s a game to see how close you can get him before he wakes.
But his eyes stay closed and your racing heart calms just a enough for you to inch his underwear down a bit and pull his cock out, leaning over him.
You start slow, running the flat of your tongue along the length of him and he huffs above you, his face beginning to screw up at the new sensations but otherwise still mostly asleep. You smile and keep going, his still hips and your slow pace allowing you the time to relax your throat when you close your lips around him.
You start to get a little lost in the sensations yourself and the sounds he’s starting to make, breathy and soft and it’s the vibrations of your own moan against him that push him over the edge into the land of the living.
He comes to, his eyes flashing open only to be met with the sight of your lips wrapped around his cock and he groans raggedly, his back arching a bit as his brain works to catch up to the real world. He swears, large hands moving to cup your head and smooth your hair back, and he tries to watch.
Keyword: tries.
He’s still sluggish this soon after waking up, having been in the grips of what he thought to be only a dream and it’s only a few moments before his head is falling back and he’s enjoying the ride, trying to keep his hips from moving and letting you play with him.
And of course he returns the favor. Enthusiastically.
I know we’re all kind of on a Mayans kick right now... but ima need Carrillo to whisper dirty things in ones ear after some good neck kisses!
Listen as soon as this man realizes what his voice does to you, you’re toast.
There’s just something about it, the way it’s so soft despite all his harshness and sharp edges, the way it slides over your skin and pools in your chest, that it drives you up the wall.
And of course, Carrillo uses it to his advantage.
He loves to rile you up with it, turning it into some sort of twisted game if he’s in the right mood, seeing just how far he can take it before one of you snaps because working you up works him up.
So he talks sometimes, when he has you pressed up against the wall of your apartment or his hallway after a long day.
His voice right then is one of your favorite sounds, telling you what he thought about doing to you all day and calling you pretty names, his mouth ghosting over your skin and his breaths in your ear.
His voice is softer than ever, almost cooing as he tells you exactly how he plans to wreck you, his hands sliding beneath the fabric of your shirt or gripping your hip, dragging over your thigh to hook your knee over his hip.
And you want to call him a name because he’s not doing anything, just talking low in your ear and petting you, letting you writhe against him, bound and determined to tease for just a little bit longer.
Okay, I’ve had a rough couple weeks so let’s go with some good old fashioned ✨comforting✨ headcanons
The thing about Carrillo is you wouldn’t expect him to be the comforting type— and maybe he’s not, at least not right at first.
At first he’s unused and out of practice, and he hesitates before he pulls you to his chest. The time doubles if you’re coworkers because his default is to stay away from you as much as he can, removing himself from the temptation to reach towards you, to put a hand on your shoulder and squeeze when he sees your eyes flicker or your lips thin into a line, and he’s spent so long trying to ignore that urge that sometimes he forgets that he’s able to now.
At first he’s stiff, worried that this isn’t what you need, that this isn’t enough and he asks the question against your hair, low and concerned and the part of him that still doesn’t quite know what to do with you because he’s not an easy man, he doesn’t have enough practice in being soft, whispers in the back of his mind that you’ll probably need space. That you’ll want him to let you go because the weight of his arms around you is too much.
But you don’t and you tell him as much, adjusting your own arms that are around his middle so you’re nestled even closer to him. He’s warm and solid against you, grounding you and you can feel a little smile come to your lips when he starts to rub your back.
He gets better at it the longer you’re together, doesn’t hesitate as much and isn’t so stiff, but he can’t help but still marvel at it even after all this time, that you’d find comfort in someone like him and deliberately seek him out for it. That on bad days you’ll curl up in bed or on the couch with him and just lay there, letting him smooth his hand over your back.
Sometimes you’ll ask him to talk, needing something more to focus on and pull you out of your head, so he’ll tell you stories from when he was younger, before things got so dark. Before he was wearing a uniform and hunting killers.
so bout soft carrillo 👀 horacio is tactile as heck, fight me. Man comes home half-dead with fatigue and immediately finds you and rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed as he just BREATHES. He doesn't stop touching you until he has to, nosing your neck while you cook, keeping a hand on your thigh during dinner, he's the big spoon in bed. It's almost as if he needs to reassure himself that you're there, soft and constant.
Full disclosure I’m tactile as heck too so this is a Treat.
You know what he needs as his arms slide around your waist, holding you close and breathing you in, wanting to fill his head with you until you blot out everything else. You haven’t started cooking yet so you let him hold you for as long as he needs, looping your arms around his shoulders and just standing there in your kitchen, the noises from the neighborhood dim and listening to each other breathe.
It surprised you the first time it happened and kept surprising you, how his quiet affection never abated even after moving in with each other. How he’d come out of these quiet moments by dropping his head to press a gentle kiss to your lips and murmur a “hello,” and a twist of his lips that isn’t quite a smile, not yet, but it’s soft and warm.
When you start making dinner, something you insist on doing because you see how his job is running him ragged, how much weight it puts on his his shoulders and the shadows he carries from it, he isn’t far behind you. It doesn’t always work, but when it does Horacio takes up a position behind you, arms loose around your middle and his face buried in your neck, only breaking away from you when you ask him to hand you one ingredient or another.
When you turn in for the night it’s much the same, Horacio cuddling up as close as he can to you and you wrap your arms around the one he has around your middle, and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt more at ease than you do now and neither does he.
idk if you're taking Carrillo anons rn, but I just really wanted to ask how you think Carrillo and reader first got together or how you think their first time keeping Javi up went lmao
Am I taking Carrillo anons rn? I’ll always take Carrillo anons! This is going to be set in the jealous Carrillo au that’s apparently been taking form ever since this hc for him, and don’t worry I’ll go through and give this au a tag just like all the threesome feral hours asks lmao.
So, ya’ll first got together in this bastard’s office because you were both angry and keyed up on adrenaline and somehow that culminated in fucking on his desk.
Ya’ll make it like a week before it happens again because Carrillo’s self control around you is kind of shit now that he actually knows what it’s like instead of only having his fantasies, and he realizes he doesn’t want to share you.
If you’re being honest with yourself you don’t want to share him either so you’re just fine going along with it.
So maybe the second time it happens, it’s at your apartment because Carrillo decides to take some fucking initiative and go and tell you what he wants in no uncertain terms, and you two get incredibly lucky that no one sees him standing in front of your door.
Of course you let him in, all eagerness and seeking hands, both of you trying to get as close as possible before your clothes even come off.
Somehow you make it down a tiny hallway to your bedroom without either falling on your faces or fucking against the wall and you tumble into bed together, and there’s just something about having Carrillo on top of you that you absolutely love.
You couldn’t properly appreciate it the first time and it isn’t like you wouldn’t also love to roll him over and ride him like a stubborn horse, but there’s just something about it. About having all that intensity so focused on you with nowhere to go, no way to hide from it, that has your back arching up and your nails digging into his shoulders.
The way you say his name almost makes him lose it but he has enough presence of mind to remind you not to say his name as much as he hates it, because he knows that you share a wall with Javi.
You’re a wreck underneath him and you try, you try so hard not say anything but he keeps groaning in your ear, talking filth in Spanish and you’re only so strong.
Maybe he claps a hand over your mouth to help keep you quiet while he does his best to fuck you through the mattress because like hell are you letting go of him right now, or maybe he’s nice and uses his mouth instead.
Javi’s too busy staring at the wall in shock and mounting horror as the noises get louder and more frequent to really do much of anything at the moment.
Afterwards you’re trembling through the aftershocks and you don’t want him to move, tightening all your limbs around him when he tries to move off of you.
He has absolutely no problem staying where he is and instead of the possible awkwardness that comes after sex with a new person he just tries his best not to crush you while the kisses you share are all languid and deep and you can’t help but sweep your hands over his back and around his shoulders, down his arms.
Are you really feeling up the Colonel in the post-sex haze? Yes, yes you are and he’s doing the same to you as best he can.
He leaves the same night to avoid having to sneak out in the morning, but he wakes you up if you’ve fallen asleep and you walk him to the door, and thus concludes the first of many sleepless nights for poor Javier Peña
