#isabella bautista fanfiction

[drabbles-mc]

Following Your Lead

Isabella Bautista x F!Reader

For the ever-lovely @hausofmamadas for the Candy Hearts Exchange!

Warnings: 18+, smoking, alcohol

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Idk what happened here but it sure was!! Something!! I hope you enjoy! xo

Narcos Mexico Taglist: @narcolini @ashlingnarcos @artemiseamoon @garbinge @anditsmywholeheart @passionatewrites @southotheborder @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It was all loud music and flashing lights and sweating bodies pinned up against each other. It wasn’t exactly your idea of a good time, but most people must’ve liked it—that was how the place stayed so packed. That was why everyone kept coming back.

That wasn’t why you kept coming back. You tried to tell yourself that you didn’t actually know why, but you weren’t fooling yourself let alone anyone else.

The drinks were good, sure, but no better than you could get at any number of clubs downtown. The music was alright, even if it wasn’t what you would be caught listening to at home, or in your car. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t your favorite. When you’d come here with your friends, been dragged actually, you knew about twenty minutes in that you would never come back again. The next time some strange man's hand landed on your hip, your ass, the small of your back, you were going to break each one of their fingers that felt entitled to touch you.

You’d lasted about an hour that night before telling your friends that you were bailing and going home before you caused a problem for them or someone else. Despite their half-hearted attempts to get you to stay, you started weaving your way through the seemingly endless ocean of bodies. As much as you hated making yourself small, that was exactly what you were doing as you left. Anything to get out quicker.

The door was practically within your reach when you felt it, another abrupt bump against your shoulder. Somehow better than all the other touches of the night but you still jerked around, contemplating going out with a bang since you weren’t planning on coming back. The clench in your jaw was almost enough to make your teeth crack. Your brows knit as you whipped your head around, earrings slapping against the curve of your jaw.

“Hey—” your animosity was cut short when you saw who had bumped into you. Your expression was still harsh but your mind froze up.

You didn’t know her, but you wanted to. She was looking you up and down, not outwardly perturbed by your reaction like you were by her bumping into you. Her perfectly painted lips curled into the smallest smile as she tossed her hair back behind her shoulder.

“Lo siento,” she said, her hand cupping the exposed skin of your arm even after the word hit the air.

You didn’t know if she meant it. You didn’t care if she did or not. Your eyes dropped to where her fingers were resting against your skin, painted claws not set into you but you were immediately imagining it anyway. That’s the kind of touch you wouldn’t mind, not from her.

You felt your face softening the longer you looked at her, eyebrows raised more in surprise and curiosity now. “Todo,” you stammered out, “todo bien.”

Her smile grew, still a toothless gesture. It still knocked the wind out of you. She nodded, nails trailing down your arm as she turned to walk away. Left you standing there in the doorway like an idiot, helpless to do anything but watch her.

You came back with your friends the following weekend. Each one after that too. You had yet to see her again. Part of you was wondering why you assumed that you would—for all you knew, she was another woman who was just like you in that she showed up once, had to deal with a ton of creeps, and then promptly decided it wasn’t worth the time and discomfort. You hoped, selfishly, that that wasn’t the case.

You were finishing off what was going to be your last drink of the night. Setting the glass back down onto the top of the bar, you reached for your purse. Your focus was solely on pulling a couple bills out to tuck underneath the glass, more than enough to close out your small tab and leave a generous tip without having to actually talk to the bartender.

Shouldering your purse, you turned so that you could step away from the bar and head towards the door. You didn’t get very far, a body having materialized right behind you without you noticing or hearing above the rest of the noise in the club. You didn’t make eye contact at first, just muttering out an apology you doubted the person could even hear as you tried to slip past them.

Then you felt it, a hand on your arm, nails against your skin. Your eyes widened as you lifted your gaze from the floor and leveled them with the woman who was staring back at you. You thought that maybe you had been falsely remembering her to be more beautiful than she was, but if anything your brain hadn’t been doing her justice.

She smiled at you the same way she had before—all lipstick and no teeth. You almost felt like you should just sit right back down on the stool you’d just stood up from as she held your gaze. The gold around her neck paired so nicely with the deep plunge of the black jumpsuit she was wearing, the short capped sleeves meaning that all of her bracelets were visible, matching the gold of her necklace and the numerous rings around her fingers.

You’d been hoping for weeks to see her again, and now here she was. You figured that maybe you should make all your waiting worthwhile and fucking say something, but the words weren’t coming. She didn’t seem to be rushing you away.

She put you out of your misery with a sentence that almost took you out in an entirely different way. “Qué bueno verte otra vez.”

You opened your mouth a few times to try and say something but nothing came out. You hadn’t planned on getting this far. Clearing your throat, you finally said, “Te puedo comprar una bebida?”

She lifted her chin slightly, the look in her eyes making you think that she was almost impressed by the response. Removing her hand from your arm, she let it drop back to her side. “No estás saliendo?”

Fuck. You were leaving. Or, at least, you had been until she showed up. You didn’t want to just tell her that, though. You didn’t want to seem that desperate, even if you really were that desperate. “Me puedo quedar.”

So, you stayed. Not caring about the money you had already pre-tipped the bartender, you sat back down and the woman you were certain you’d never see again or speak to sat down right next to you. And you learned that her name was Isabella. You learned that she had the same go-to drink at every club she went to, something that would be impossible for bartenders to fuck up.

You also learned that she loved dancing. She taught you that after her second drink when she set the glass down and then reached over and grabbed your hand to pull you away from the bar and towards the dancefloor. If it had been literally anyone else on the planet, you would’ve found a way to weasel out of it somehow. But there was no way you were going to be able to look at her and tell her no. So you followed her, nearly stumbling as you tried to follow in her footsteps, weaving through everybody.

And then she stopped. She stopped and you found yourself pressed up against her, the hand that was entwined with yours now resting on your hip, almost like she was trying to catch you, almost like she was trying to pull you in close. Your mouth felt dry as you tried to scrounge up something smooth to say, but you couldn’t.

Her smile grew a little wider as she took in your flustered state, the first flash of teeth you’d gotten. Reaching and situating your hands on her where she wanted them, she leaned in closer so that you could hear her.

“Puedes bailar, sí?” she asked, almost like it was a joke.

You managed a laugh as you nodded. “Mhm.” You paused, suddenly feeling not at home in your own body. “Pues…”

She laughed at that, but not in a mocking way. It was almost refreshing. Hardly a few seconds later she was stepping and swaying her hips, and at first you felt like you were fighting for your life to keep up with her. She must’ve seen it on your face, too, because she brought one hand up, nails trailing lightly against your cheek in a way that gave you chills despite the heavy heat of the club. The smirk on her face let you know that she was perfectly aware of what she was doing to you, but at least she was getting you out of your own head about the dancing.

You followed her lead, the same way you had been the entire time, the same way you would if you ever got the chance to see her again. There was no denying that she was a far better dance than you could ever hope to be, but it got to the point that you didn’t even care because you were too lost in the feel of her hands on you, yours on her, a welcome touch where there hadn’t been any for a long time.

You’d completely lost track of time, no idea how long the two of you had been on the dancefloor ignoring just about everything and everyone happening around you. You would’ve stayed there with her until they shut the place down if that’s what she had wanted.

When she stopped dancing, pulling you close so she could speak directly into your ear, you had no idea what to expect. She asked if you’d step out for a smoke with her, away from some of the noise. So you did the same thing you’d been doing all night and followed her lead. You didn’t smoke, but when she offered you a cigarette outside on the sidewalk, you said yes with no hesitation.

And, when she snubbed out the last of her spent cigarette beneath her shoe, and asked you if you wanted to come back to her place, you followed her lead on that, too.

#narcos mexico #narcos: mexico #narcos mx #nmx #isabella bautista #isabella bautista x reader #isabella bautista x you #isabella bautista fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[drabbles-mc]

The Same Mistakes

An Isabella Bautista fic

For Day 4 of @whumpril 2023: ache

Warnings: 18+, language, angst

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: dedicated to my fave isabella stan @hausofmamadas. Thank u for inspiring me to write this 😌💞

Narcos Mexico Taglist: @narcolini @garbinge @ashlingnarcos @purplesong1028 @cositapreciosa @southotheborder @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

With each tear that sprung into her eyes and proceeded to trickle down the side of her face, Isabella continued to chastise herself. Was it painful? Sure. Should she have seen it coming? Most definitely. Because that’s how it always ended for her.

It always ended before it even truly got started. There was such a specific brand of pain in that. It felt foolish to say, but she swore that she could actually feel the ache in her chest when she thought back on it all.

Maybe it hurt because the endings, the rejections, were always two-fold. Being shot down in business or in romance was one thing. But managing to get shot down in business and in romance, by the same person at essentially the same time, was another thing. It was a much worse thing.

And somehow it had happened to her twice.

She shook her head at herself, ignoring the tears for a moment as she rewound it all in her head. It felt almost sickening to think about how wrong she had been about him. “El último hombre decente en México.” Just the thought of saying those words now put a knot in her stomach and bile in her throat. Fucking Miguel. She’d given him too much credit back then, too much of her time, her attention.

There was no getting any of that back now. The best she could do was not waste any more time on him. Not give him any more brain space.

The rejection and betrayal of Miguel had hurt in the moment. The ache that was familiar to her now had felt so new and debilitating back then. Now, though, she felt more anger towards him than she did heartbreak. Miguel was so far in her rearview at this point that he wasn’t worth being in pain over anymore.

Besides, all of that shit with Miguel paled in comparison to the hole that Dina had put through her chest.

That was something that had snuck up on her. It hurt in a different way, maybe because it mattered more. Maybe because there was business, of course, but there was also the way that Dina would look at her. There were plans and paperwork but there were also shared smiles and cigarettes that Dina insisted on lighting for her. There was work, because there had to be work or else it wouldn’t have been Dina. But there was more—there was the two of them.

Or, so she had thought.

She’d been wrong, again, and this time it hurt so much more. Her chest felt like it was going to cave in on itself as she washed the makeup from her face. To an outsider looking in, it would’ve been impossible to tell what was tears and what was water from the faucet, but Isabella knew.

The last few traces of mascara trailed down her cheeks as she cleaned it from her lashes. It all looked so dramatic—tears and running makeup and the deep pout she was sporting. All that flair and it still wasn’t enough to encapsulate how she was actually feeling.

Not to mention that it wasn’t as though Dina was at home shedding any tears over her in return.

But also maybe it wasn’t enough simply because it wasn’t right. What she was feeling wasn’t that loud. It was quiet, and heavy. It was real and honest in a world where honesty didn’t pay.

Maybe that was the whole problem. She was trying to be transparent with people who wouldn’t ever be capable of returning the favor, in business or in their relationships. Of all the mistakes she’d made, her biggest one had been thinking that either of them would be different with her. People didn’t change that way. Or, at least, they didn’t change that way for her.

She splashed some more warm water on her face before patting it dry. No lipstick, no long lashes—this was a different kind of transparent. This was the side of her that neither of them had gotten to know. They could’ve. She would’ve let them. But they didn’t want to. And she had to somehow learn to be alright with that.

Pushing her hair back behind her shoulders, she did her best to take a deep breath and convince herself that she was going to be alright. It wasn’t as though she really had another choice at this point. Despite the radiating pain in her chest, she repeated it to herself over and over again: She wasn’t going to make the same mistakes again.

She could still see the tears lingering on the rims of her eyes, begging to fall. She raked her teeth over her bottom lip before shaking her head at herself and reaching over to turn off the light in her bathroom. She knew that the longer she stared at herself, the more she would spiral, trying to make sense of people who had proven to her that they weren’t worth the effort it would take to try and piece them apart.

The bathroom door clicked shut quietly behind her as she walked out. The soft sound was the only noise in her otherwise silent house. She had turned on the lights as she walked through her home, leaving a trail in her wake. Now, though, she repeated the same process over only this time she was turning all of the lights back off and sending her whole house into darkness.

The only light that was left on in the house came from the lamp beside her bed, bathing her mattress and sea of pillows in warm yellow light. She stared at her bed for a moment before finally taking another deep breath and pulling the blanket back on her side of the bed. Although, really, both sides were her side because she couldn’t remember the last time that someone had been there to occupy the half opposite of her.

It was always so easy, when she crawled into bed this late at night and finally shut the lamp off, to feel like her house, her room, her bed were all too big for just her. It was so easy to get lost in the thoughts of having someone else there, feeling like she should have someone else there. Maybe that just came with the territory of missing people.

So many nights she’d spent curled up on her side of the bed, making herself smaller in a mattress that felt too large for just her. And she was about to do it again when she finally thought better of it. Sitting up, she grabbed and tossed a few of her pillows from the bed to the floor, not caring where they landed in the darkness. With the pillow that she had left, she situated it in the middle of the mattress, finally allowing herself to take up as much space as she wanted, as much space as she could, right in the center of it. Laying on her back, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness, she took the first easy breath that she had taken all night, and finally let her eyes close.

#whumpril #whumpril2023 #whumprilday4 #ache #narcos mexico #narcos: mexico #nmx #narcos mexico fanfiction #narcos mx #isabella bautista fanfiction #isabella Bautista #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[drabbles-mc]

Drabbles-MC: Isabella Bautista Fics

Fic list under the cut!

👀 = smut, 💔 = angst

- Following Your Lead

- The Same Mistakes 💔

- One More Last Time

- Unrecognizable

#narcos mexico #narcos: mexico #nmx #nmx fanfiction #narcos mexico fanfiction #isabella bautista #isabella bautista fanfiction #isabella bautista x reader #isabella bautista x you #isabella bautista x benjamin arellano felix #my writing #fanfiction #masterlist #drabblesmc

[drabbles-mc]

One More Last Time

Benjamín Arellano Félix x Isabella Bautista

For @ashlingnarcos as part of the AU Exchange & For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge. Bingo square: affair

Warnings: 18+, language, infidelity

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Isabella could do anything and everything and she would have my full support no matter what.

NMX Taglist: @garbinge @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa @narcolini @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

He could still hear the music that was playing on the other side of the glass, but it was muffled. As he looked out the windows that towered over the rest of the building, the noise and the chaos felt like they were emitting from a radio that was sitting a room or two away from him. The lights all poured in, casting the mostly empty space in all cool hues of purple and blue, the rare splattering of pink.

He watched them all, his siblings, their friends, all the other people they knew and didn’t know who were filling up the space of the club. He took a deep breath, shaking his head slightly as he did. It felt like too much most nights. The thoughts that were currently racing through his head showed that this night was no different than the others in that regard. He was already thinking about how good it was going to feel to be back home again—away from the lights, the noise, the semi-controlled chaos.

The sound of the door opening caused him to whip around, wondering how he’d missed someone coming up the steps to the office. His eyes were wide as he turned and looked, only growing wider when he saw who was stepping through the doorway.

“Hola,” Isabella’s voice was smooth and warm as honey, comfortable like she had any right to be there in the club at all, let alone strolling into his fucking office.

His muscles immediately tensed, hackles going up as the door swung shut behind her. “Qué estás haciendo aquí?”

She laughed, shaking her head as she began to collapse the distance between the two of them. “Por qué estás tan enojado? Tenso?” She stopped in front of him, placing her hand on her chest, fingers splaying across her collarbone. “Solo soy yo.”

He shook his head, knowing far better than to buy into the act. “Qué quieres?”

“Nada,” she answered with a smile and a shrug.

“No mientas,” he shot back instantly with a shake of his head.

“No puedo visitarte?” She tilted her head slightly, some of her hair falling gracefully over her shoulder as she did. “Un amigo querido?”

“No soy tu amigo, Isabella.” His tone was short, an attempt to be cutting.

It didn’t faze her. “Claro que sí,” she drew it out, nodding slowly, more drama than she needed to pack into a situation that was plenty dramatic on its own. “Porque nosotros, Mín? Somos más que—”

“Qué quieres?” he cut her off as he repeated himself, not wanting to allow her to finish where that sentence was going.

She gave him that same smile that she always did, the one that was all lipstick and no teeth, lips upturned enough to draw him in but also just enough to let him know that there was so much more to it than whatever she was saying to him.

He didn’t realize that she was moving until her hand was pressed against his chest. The warmth of her palm began seeping through the fabric of his shirt instantly. Familiar feeling of scorched flesh. He wanted to swat her hand away but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. That was always the problem, wasn’t it?

“Qué piensas?” Isabella asked, standing closer now even though Benjamín swore that he hadn’t heard her take a step towards him.

He shook his head for a moment, like he was about to deny thinking anything at all. Isabella was ready to call him out on it, too. Like that man ever had a quiet moment inside his mind. But then he looked at her, met her eyeline directly and held it for the first time since she’d walked in. “Ya tú sabes.”

She raised her eyebrows just slightly. The movement barely enough to clock but it still let Benjamín know that yes, she certainly did know exactly what he was thinking about, and the slip of her hand up to the side of his neck let him know that she was thinking about it too.

The last time the two of them found themselves in the position that they were, the place that they were, things had been a little different. The strobe lights in the club were off; so was the music. The whole building looked gray, almost dull without them on and just a few scattered maintenance lights illuminating the place. It was more than enough for what they were doing, though.

The last time they were in that office together was also supposed to be the last time it ever happened. But then again, all the times before that were supposed to be the last time too. The argument being that there never should’ve been a first time to begin with.

But now here she was. Again. One more last time. Lights flashing across her face like the universe’s most blatant warning sign. Crowds and crowds of people packed just one flight of stairs below, his siblings among them. The music fighting to seep through the glass, the distant reverberation of the bass coursing throughout the building. All of it should’ve been enough to remind them that it was a bad idea for all the reasons it had always been a bad idea, but now it was also a bad idea because the likelihood of getting caught was higher than ever.

The sensation of her nails dragging lightly along his jawline pulled him out of his own head. His eyes raked slowly up her arm until they reached her face. She seemed so unbothered. She always did, really. Maybe because out of the two of them he was really the only one with things to be bothered over. Sure, there was the business of it all, the plazas, Miguel, all the rest of it. They shared that to an extent. But Isabella didn’t have a family weighing over her head. She had no marriage that would implode if it all got out, didn’t have siblings that would, well, he didn’t really want to give too much thought to that in the moment. The façade of his life was one tap of the glass away from breaking, and Isabella was standing on the other side of the window with a fucking sledgehammer.

“No puedo…” he trailed off.

“Te nunca puedes,” she retorted, her voice soft somehow despite the mocking undertones in it.

He shook his head, enough to cause her fingers to not be brushing against his jaw and cheek anymore. It didn’t cause her to stop touching him. Now her hand was on his shoulder. She was standing close enough that if he released any of the tension that he was holding in his muscles, their bodies would be pressed together.

He nodded towards the large glass windows, the ones that currently had the blinds up all the way so that they could see out, and if anyone wanted to go up a few steps, they could see in. “Mira. Todos los—”

“Esa es la razón?” She scoffed, almost laughed. “La gente?” She shook her head as she repeated back his words from earlier. “No mientas.”

He swallowed past the growing knot in the back of his throat. Nodding towards the door, he tried to found firm as he said, “Vete.”

“O qué?” she challenged, the smirk on her face showing up involuntarily.

“Isabella…”

“Dime, por favor.” She tilted her head, like she was studying him, like she didn’t already know the answer. “Quiero saber.”

He tilted his head back, chin jutting out as he looked up at the ceiling. He knew that the answer to that was nothing. Nothing was going to happen. He knew that. He knew that she knew it, too. But he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of saying it if he could help it—she was unbearably confident about it enough already. She always was. He didn’t know how that happened, really. How he wound up surrounded by women like that. Todas las mujeres de su pinche vida.

Letting out a deep sigh, he tried one more time. “Vete ahora.” He almost tacked a pleasantry onto the end of it. But he wouldn’t have meant it, and she wouldn’t have cared.

“De verdad quieres eso?”

“Sí,” he replied quickly, but he didn’t make up for the lack of conviction in his voice.

“Eres un mal mentiroso.” He had no idea how she managed to sound so good when she was being so condescending. “Tienes miedo?”

Something in the slight uptick of her voice at the end of the question caused him to shift. He could feel the defeat starting to rake its way across his muscles, his body giving into hers. He always did. No matter when she showed up, no matter where, his resolve never lasted. He hated how smug she was about it all but what he hated more was that he had given her every right to be. He shook his head, mumbling as he turned the phrase over in his mind.

Isabella never ceased to find it amusing, the hesitation, the internal turmoil he seemed to face each time. She figured that they would be past that by now—that he would be past that by now. But the routine held steady. He’d hesitate, he’d give in, he’d let the residual guilt keep him from seeking her out, but when push came to shove, he’d never let it keep him from giving in again when she eventually came back around.

“Si es lo que quieres,” she finally said as she held her hands out, almost like a surrender, almost like a peace offering. However the lift of her lips showing that she was fully aware that it wasn’t really what he wanted, that she banking on him caving and saying just that.

She turned around and started walking towards the door of the office. Her steps were slow, deliberate. Each click of her heels against the floors felt like it was echoing, like it somehow drowned out the music blaring through the rest of the club. Benjamín watched her go, shoulders so tense they were about to crumble, cave in on themselves as he tried to get himself together. He should let her go and he shouldn’t feel conflicted about it.

He opened his mouth to try and say something, but all that came out was a choked stammer. Not a real word, hardly a real syllable. But the sound was enough to get Isabella to stop in her tracks. Her back was still to him, but he could vividly imagine what the smug look on her face must’ve looked like.

Turning around to face him, she raised her eyebrows, smiling as she asked with feigned innocence, “Sí, Mín?”

His jaw twitched, still fighting over what he was going to say. Not that it ended up mattering in the end, anyway. Words fell completely by the wayside as his body reacted with more certainty than his brain ever had. One foot in front of the other, long, fast strides easily closed the distance between him and Isabella.

She didn’t say anything either, didn’t have to. The half a second between his hand cupping the side of her face to pull her closer and his lips crashing against hers said everything that either of them needed to know.

#narcos mexico #narcos: mexico #nmx #nmx fanfiction #narcos mexico fanfiction #benjamin arellano felix #isabella bautista #benjamin arellano felix x isabella bautista #isabella bautista x benjamin arellano felix #navy and roo's sleepover #navy and roos sleepover #slumber party #slumber party bingo #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[drabbles-mc]

Unrecognizable

Miguel Ángel & Isabella Bautista

Warnings: 18+, smoking

With the help of This Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting and my trusty Wheel of Names with every character I’ve ever written for, I’m aiming to write a fic in 500 words or less every day of March. We’ll see how far we get!

Prompt: feathers

Word Count: 448

A/N: there's no plot here, just vibes. but it's...it's something!!!

She slowly made her way through the expanse of the mansion. Her heels clicked against the spotless tiles that made up the floor, the sound louder than it should have been due to the large space being filled with nothing but empty silence.

When she reached the other side of the house, she walked right out into the back yard. Her heels sank into the lush grass but it didn’t slow her down. Continuing on, she went right up to Miguel, who was standing with one arm folded across himself, the other holding a cigarette to his lips.

She stopped right beside him, noticing how his gaze flickered to her for a moment. He offered a wordless nod in greeting before returning to what he’d been staring at before her arrival. She joined him in that, in the silence but also in looking at the birds that were casually making their way across the lawn.

The peacocks seemed unbothered by their presence, not even hesitating when Isabella walked over. She watched them closely, half-tempted to crouch down and run her fingers along the bird’s back right down to its tail. Its feathers were so vibrant, looked like they’d be so soft. Extravagant like everything else around her at the moment.

The longer they stood there in silence staring at the birds, the more she wondered what Miguel really needed or wanted with them in the first place, what he wanted with any of what he had now.

She turned to look at him, his chin hooked over the collar of his orange turtleneck. He was still Miguel, she supposed, but not in any of the ways that mattered to her. Not in any of the ways that would have rendered him recognizable. The Miguel she pictured when someone mentioned his name wasn’t the man standing beside her in that moment. The Miguel that lingered around her thoughts didn’t care about mansions he wouldn’t ever spend any time in, or birds that he would do nothing with other than occasionally stare at them. He’d veered so far off-track, and so far away from her in the process. She wondered if there was any way to right the course at this point, or if she should just turn and leave the same way that she showed up—without a word.

Just as she was about to turn and leave, deeming it all a lost cause, he held out his cigarette to her. She hesitated for a moment, but she took it from him. As she brought it to her lips, the first thing that crossed her mind was that it was the most familiar he’d felt in a long time.

#narcos mexico #narcos: mexico #nmx #nmx fanfiction #narcos mexico fanfiction #isabella bautista #miguel angel felix gallardo #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc