#eduardo salamanca x reader

[mandowifey]

Do you have any funny head canons for Lalo? Not even funny per se but just weird shit he might do?

Nora I'm gonna smooch you.

Lalo 'Eduardo' Salamanca - Funny Headcannons

Warnings: General NSFW talk, Lalo needs his own warning tbh. Dark humor! Morbid humor! a lot of implied psychological manipulation. Cartel boy does Cartel shit. You know how it goes.

Lalo has a lot of strange and somewhat funny quirks.

First and foremost, the fact that he refuses to sleep longer than an hour or two at a time is wild. You need your sleep, which he does understand, but he also can't sit still so you often wake up in an empty bed.

He'd have your sleep schedule memorized, though. Knows about when you get tired, when you wake up, the times you stir to go to the bathroom, etc. Of course, he doesn't tell you that, but you find it uncanny that he can anticipate when you need to lay down or when to have breakfast ready in the morning.

Another weird thing Lalo does is zoning out. Sometimes, you can talk to him, and he's empty eyed, staring at the window, motionless. It's uncanny to you because you have no idea what's going on inside his head. But then he'd blink, and the light would return to him and he'd smile at you and encourage you to continue talking.

The guy has a thing about pushing peoples buttons.

He just... he craves being a menace - mostly because no one can really do anything to stop him. Lalo often smiles or grins when someone is getting worked up/flustered when he's prodding at their nerves.

Unfortunately, that means you catch the receiving end of it too.

Lalo can't help it! He loves watching you get riled up and red-faced. He thinks you shouting is adorable, and the hard, angry fucking afterwards is sublime. Lalo sports your claw marks like trophies, calls you his little wild cat.

Another thing he does that's weird is mirroring. Lalo is good at adapting and charming folks, sometimes he mirrors you to get what he wants.

Not in the mood for sex? Well, that's okay! How about we lay in bed and laugh? What's this? His hand is between your legs while he cracks jokes in your ear. Weird, guess you changed your mind.

Not a weird HC but he's intentionally withdrawn.

He keeps a lot of stuff to himself, making it difficult to discern if he's really upset or not.

Another weird thing is he likes to watch you shower.

He'd sit on the sink or lean against it, while pulling the door open to watch you quietly. Sometimes it seems like he's admiring you and others he looks almost angry.

You know he see's you as a weakness.

He's protective, always thinking 10 steps ahead.

You are his, after all.

Lalo is a gift giver. He likes to buy you stuff you mention off handedly. It's eerie sometimes because he gets you things you didn't realize you even wanted.

Like he's bringing home a dress you glanced at while shopping with him, and now there it is, in your hands. Meanwhile, he's smiling ear to ear and kissing your head, asking if you like it and watching your reaction.

Lalo is weird in the sense he's not extremely physical. The guy is similar to a cat. He'll pat your back, ruffle your hair or tap your chin, but he doesn't do many hugs or kisses. Even when you two are alone.

Though he would definitely not mind you laying against him, asleep, while he watched the fire pit and let his thoughts wander.

However, when the mood strikes him?

Lord he's on you.

Mouth on yours, devouring you, kissing and biting. Can't keep his hands off of you, groping and squeezing and just all over you.

Lalo isn't super weird, but he has those little mannerisms you find charming!

[nanabrainrot]

HMMC drabble or thoughts on someone insulting Lalo's wife and calling her dumb/needy or something and Lalo gets angry bc only he's allowed to call her his pet and his sweet dumb girl

yesss ive been slacking with hmmc i need to create a prompt list to be able to have a steady queue with it bc i luvvv lalo i luv u lalo

Idiotic Audacity

Lalo hates when his wife gets involved - even in conversation. Even in passing.

ToxicoHusband!Lalo/Wife!Reader

WC: 1138

Warnings! gun violence and murder, undertones of machismo misogyny

“You got a wife?” the guy started casually, but the mention was enough to make Nacho tense. Enough to make Lalo pause, as he counted the money in his hands. He didn’t look up, but his nostrils flared from what he could see.

“What’s it to you?” Lalo countered in a voice devoid of interest, though the wording betrayed him: he didn’t like when you were talked about. Perceived. Acknowledged. The fact some guy thought you were a talking point over a deal almost made his spit come up. It made him want to hawk a loogie in his eye. 

“Your ring finger. It’s inked,” he replied, leaning into his chair. It’s a statement, like the weather being nice or the color of his shirt. A pause, before the next bill is flicked as he counts it.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know any other members who actually have a wife,” he kept going. Nacho palmed his forehead, watching the scene unfold. He never really pressed Lalo about his relationship to his wife. She rarely made eye contact with him, avoided touching him like the plague, and almost used Lalo as a tin can connected by string to the rest of the world; like you were a girl still stuck playing treehouse with a childish telephone. 

“Well I do,” Lalo scoffed as he continued to flick through the bills before reaching for a rubber band.

“Your girl okay with it?” the man continues, head lulling back on the chair to watch the ceiling. Like he was bored. Bored talking about the wife of one of the most dangerous men south and now north of the border. The vein in his forehead twitched.

“Girl? She’s not a girl, she’s my wife,” Lalo huffed. The bills flicked again, a stack of paper crisp and without any hints of wear. Perfect.

“Girl, wife? What’s the difference? She’s a girl you married then, it’s the same -” “It’s not the same. She hasn’t been a girl since she was 17. She’s a woman, she’s a wife. Drop it, pendejo,” Lalo warned with a dense voice as he flicked through the bills with eyes that didn’t glance up.

“What’s wrong with asking about some girl?” 

“There’s everything wrong with it, you don’t chat about a man’s wife, especially not mine,” he snarled, smacking the bills down on the adjacent table with a hard face: his nostrils flared, eyes wide, and chest tight. The conspicuous nature of the tattooed band usually confirmed him married but he hated the inevitable questions. The fact anyone but him acknowledged you was enough to piss him off; rarely did people see you. Even rarer did they speak to you. Never did they speak of you. 

“Okay, I’ll quit bothering you about some dumb broad and we can get to -”

The next words never come. To is the last word. The firing of a gun forces the room into silence as Nacho stares at the scene: his jaw is clean off and the force of the bullet busting through his cranium left a big splatter on the wall behind him. The wall several feet away. Lalo treads near the body with his wild eyes, that hazy mind without rhyme or reason as he seethed with rage: Lalo kicks the body, toes of his loafer cracking at the skeleton in the corpse. The crack of his shins breaking and body shuffling, limp and lame, at the force of his kicks until Lalo slams the heel of his foot into the body’s chest and forces it back to the floor. Nacho is frozen, listening to Lalo as he fires more shots into the body, “Don’t-”

Shot.

“Call-”

Shot.

“Her-”

Shot.

“Stupid.”

Nacho stands there as Lalo pulls back to reality, tucking his gun back in his pants and breathing hot uneven breaths as he paced in circles with his hands behind his head. Eyes closed. Breathing steadier, steadier, as the minutes of silence passed in the warehouse. Before Lalo leaves, he gestures to the mess to Nacho and sits in the car only after grabbing the wads of uncounted cash. His head in his hands, Lalo is like a child whose secret, most precious toy was discovered. His insurmountable and impossible desire to keep you unknown to the world like a precious painting mounted only for his eyes always seemed to triumph his senses. Nacho rustles the garbage bags in the back of the Monte Carlo and does not ask why he is being dropped off when he is. He just watches the screen in silence as Amber and Jo tentatively try to match the pieces of the puzzle; he can still see the red and hear the gunshot.

-

“So why does he call you stupid? You’re not stupid to him, he doesn’t know you like I know you. He knows I’m married so why does he call you stupid?”

You hum, slicing the steak on his plate before sliding it across the counter before rounding it to sit by him. He’s still annoyed by his audacity and strangely, at the idea that someone insulted you. To say your marriage was devoid of moments of Lalo saying hurtful things would be wrong; a good portion of it was Lalo asking if you were dumb or confirming if you were dumb. His nickname for you most days was “dummy.” Your little face screws in concern, watching him tentatively as he bit into the steak. Watching. He sometimes nitpicked the seasoning of it, depending on how long you left it to marinate as he was gone. But he didn’t. He chewed on the meat, seared to a warm brown, and nestled next to some greens. He drinks until the beer is gone and brushes his teeth with you. Showers with you, silent. Still brooding. You never talk much, so the sound of the evening is the dripping of the faucet and running water in the shower, and rustling of bristles of your toothbrushes. The sound of mouthwash hitting porcelain. The sound of the fan whistling into the nest of blankets you crocheted on the king bed. The hum of the air conditioner. 

The rustling of him getting into bed with you, the cord of the lamp switching off, and his breath in your ear. The sensation of his hands pulling you closer to him and fiddling with the fabric of your nightgown (satiny and flowy; easy access). He mumbles into your hair as you start to doze off, your humming into his forearm, “I know you’re smart… you dumb girl…”  The last sound of the evening is this: “I think you’re smart too, baby.”

You press your head into his bicep as he spoons you, hand still rustling with the nightgown. You were smart enough to only address him with sweet words, when the rage wore off.

[seeds-and-sins]

Don’t Say Goodbye

Pairing: Eduardo “Lalo” Salamanca x GN!Reader

Rating: PG (Mutual Pining, relatively tame romantic energy)

Description: You’re relaxing after a long day, it’s late, and then someone comes knocking at your door.

Author’s Note: This is kind of short, but I am willing to elaborate if anyone wants. I wrote this to incite some inspiration in another work of mine, also Lalo related.

From Mexico With Love

Wait for Me

Knock. Knock. Knock.

  You flinched, but only because you hadn't been expecting any visitors this late at night. You slowly put down the bowl of popcorn you had been snacking on, eyes trained entirely on the door. The only light to rely on streaming electric blue from your television.

Knock. Knock. - Knock. Knock. Knock!

Your hand snuck under one of the fluffy pillows on your couch and you stoically procured the handgun you always kept within reach. You inhaled a deep breath, keeping the gun close to your hip as you rose to approach the door. The TV played loudly in the background, muting each creak and patter of the floorboards beneath your bare feet. Your finger toyed at the trigger and you tucked behind the door as your free hand grasped as the knob.

Uno. Dos. Tres.

You swung the door open, holding your body behind it for a decent amount of cover, the gun still pinned at your hip. You felt instant relief at the sight of a familiar face. You pulled the door open completely and rushed into him for a hug.

"Eduardo!" He chuckled, arms wrapping around you. Swiftly one of his hands dropped down the length of your arm to swipe the gun from your fingers.

  "What the hell were you doing with this? Huh?" He grinned, teasing you with it when you tried to reach for the gun. 

"You could had been anyone!" You laughed, feeling like a bullied child as he dangled the loaded weapon over you. "Lalo, stop making fun of me." He conceded, lowering the gun back into your grasp. You then gave him another hug. Eduardo made you feel secure, warm, you knew that if he was near, nothing could hurt you. "I'm so happy to see you got out, those pigs are too stupid to get one up on you."

"You gonna' shoot me with this thing?"

"Of course! Nothing can keep me, I'm a Salamanca." You tucked your arm around his back and attempted to guide him into your home. He wouldn't budge. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and you withdrew slightly to send him an expectant stare. He was frowning now, so suddenly the delight of seeing you again was absent from him.

"What's wrong?" It was then you noticed Ignacio, waiting in his car that was parked out by the curb. "Did something happen? You want me to go get dressed, I'll check it out with you guys?" He didn't answer, he didn't make a move, his sharp brown eyes burned two holes straight through you. You hesitantly stepped back from him, nodding your head in understanding. "You're leaving." You knew this day would come, you just didn't think it would happen so suddenly. You wished you had more time.

"It's only a matter of time before they find out who I am..." He cocked his head from side to side. "But this won't be the last of me." He pointed to punctuate his words. "It will only be a few months, until the heat dies down.” 

"Well, uh..." You smiled, patting a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be missed." You cared about Lalo, but you knew this business and attachments were never a good idea. You needed to let him go, it was your job. You tucked your gun into your shorts, wedging it between your belly and the waistband of your underwear. When your eyes met his again, his lips were quirked up in a soft smile and he was considering you with a certain fondness. The same smile that made your heart skip a beat and heat blossom in your cheeks. "I guess it's back to Nacho Nada." You gestured loosely in Ignacio's direction, waving awkwardly at him when your eyes met from a distance. He didn't look too comfortable, or happy. 

"Nacho Nada?" Lalo laughed, one eyebrow lifting in question. 

"Yeah, it's what Tuco and I call him: all work, no play, nada divertido." Lalo glanced back at Nacho and smirked, turning back to you. 

"I like that. Nacho Nada." You crossed your arms and diverted your gaze to the concrete path leading up to your home. "Hey..." The soles of Eduardo's expensive shoes scuffed at the pavement as he stepped closer. His fingers pinched delicately at your chin and lifted your gaze. "I would ask you to come with, but there will be a lot going on. That doesn't mean you can't always come visit another time." 

"I would like that." You grabbed his wrist and turned his palm up to lay a tender kiss there. "You can finally teach me how to cook the Salamanca way." He snorted, making no effort to remove himself from your touch.

"Maybe. A good magician never reveals his secrets." You both laughed at that, until it died down to a stark silence. You rose your other hand up to cup his cheek and he leaned into you.

"You'll call me, right?" You whispered, caressing the dimple alongside his lips with your thumb.

"You know I will." You watched his Adam's apple bob, his hand twisting to grab yours and caress your knuckles. "Nacho will be coming with me for a few days. You'll be okay taking care of everything?"

"You know I will." You recited his words back to him. Part of you burning to crush those few inches that separated you both. All the time spent together, all the bonding, the growing trust, the unrelenting protectiveness over one another, and neither of you had shared such an intimate moment as this. 

"Take care of yourself, cielito." 

"I promise." He nodded, reluctantly withdrawing himself, his expression hardened and he slowly turned to walk away. 

He looked at you one last time before entering the vehicle. Little did you know, that would be the last time you ever saw Lalo Salamanca.

[genocidehim]

Imagine if you were a maid at Don Eladio’s and Lalo saw you and became obsessed with you

notes: reader is female, I wore out my only two brain cells thinking about this. words: 404

I apologize if I did not understand the request correctly. I wasn't sure if you were referring to the escort girls who usually attend Eladio's parties or to a housemaid ;; I assumed it was the latter, so I apologize if that's not what you had in mind. (my reading comprehension is very poor)

When you entered his field of vision, you almost left him speechless. The way Lalo stopped paying attention to everything around him when he noticed you was blatant.

Don Eladio called for one of his maids to bring some liquor while Lalo and he gathered near the pool. It wasn't a special meeting with the Cartel Capos or anything like that, just a private conversation between the two of them to discuss Hector's health.

When Lalo saw you arrive with the Hennessy in your small hands, he almost felt personally attacked. Your gaze didn't bother much to look at him, you seemed very focused on your job as you served two glasses of liquor and left the bottle on the table, saying goodbye to both before returning to the house in the same way you arrived.

It was a very brief encounter, but it was enough to fuel his accelerated imagination.

He noticed how attractive and young you were to be just a maid. He even found it strange that you weren't one of those escort girls who used to attend Don Eladio's parties. Just a maid wearing a simple uniform, but the way your legs stood out and how the uniform still struggled to show the shape of your body was enough to let him know that you were attractive underneath that clothing. Lalo wondered if you were just as professional as you had shown in those few minutes. Hearing your voice made him imagine how sweet it would feel to hear you say his name, or even how it would feel to have your beautiful eyes on him.

Your brief presence was enough to slowly obsess him.

From that day on, he made sure to keep an eye on you all the time. Even when he attended Don Eladio's parties, he still kept his gaze on you despite having many beautiful girls around him.

He saw you as a challenge, something he had to get.

He didn't care if you were just a maid in his boss's house. He saw something more, and his intuition never failed him.

He would always find an excuse to have you close, no matter how small it was. He always asked you to bring him water, even insisted that you call him 'Lalo' despite your insistence on calling him "Don Eduardo". He loved how submissive you could be, and that only increased his obsession with you.

[1ivinqdeadqir1]

Headcanons for Lalo being his SO’s first please <3

Lalo being his SOs first:

A/N: I’m assuming you meant first time as in sex but I’m gonna list a few other first-times just in case you meant otherwise

Fem!reader (I can try to make a male! Version if you guys want? Lmk!)

WARNING(s): sexual stuff as well as just general Lalo shenanigans and my bad google translate/duolingo basic Spanish

First relationship:

I feel like Lalo would be very entertained by the fact that he’s your first ever experience in a relationship

I think maybe the more manipulative side of him would like that as it means he can sort of bend your interpretation of things

Though that’d hardly ever happen, only when he’s talking about business because other than that, he’s a really good boyfriend!

I can imagine him being very attentive, not in s submissive way but more in a ‘ I must protect you and look after you ‘ kind of way.

He probably worries a lot about you going out alone so he’d make sure to have guys nearby to where you are just to make sure you’re safe

‘Make sure they get home alright, hm?’

He probably also has a few of your friends on Facebook or has their numbers just in case he can’t get a hold of you ( I don’t imagine he’d talk to them otherwise, he likes to give you your own space)

A lot of teasing and kisses when you’re at home with him

“Eres tan suave, amor” he’d mutter whilst pressing his head into your hair or “¡Yo quiero comerte!”

Whether you understand Spanish or not, you certainly find his ramblings adorable

( if you don’t understand Spanish, and you ask him to teach you, he’d make a point of speaking Only in Spanish sometimes and not translating just to test your apprehension!!)

“Lo siento, amor, tienes que practicar, ¿no?”

It would sometimes get very annoying but as you understand more, you’d come to appreciate it greatly

I can imagine you picking up the swear words easily, and probably littering them around, to which he’d scold you for your language 🙄

Best believe he’s taking you on all the best dates, romantic and relaxing just for you both

First Kiss:

I think first kiss goes hand in hand with first relationship, so this would probably come more naturally

Say you’re about to leave after a date, and he leans in, you hesitate for a minute so he asks:

“You okay?”

To which you reply and explain that you haven’t kissed someone before,

He finds that really sweet, and also fuels his ego a bit knowing that he’s your first EVER kiss.

He’d probably leave you with a simple peck that night, and perhaps a few extra kisses on your cheeks and forehead.

like most I imagine he’s not fond of PDA, though can make an exception when dropping you off… is it really PDA if it’s at your doorstep or in his car?

That brings me to /proper/ kisses and making out

Probably happens in his car to begin with, like you’re feeling kind of needy so you give him a peck on the lips

He’d be really surprised that you initiated it ( he usually does ) but would go in for another kiss

You’re not sure how to make-out so you just go along with what he’s doing,

He’s pretty slow at first, and gentle just easing you into it

When you both pull back he’d comment on how good you were, even if you were pretty shitty at kissing or shy- just to get your confidence up

“you sure you haven’t done this before?”

You’d huff a laugh and shake your head, cheeks all warm and flushed

To which he just pinches one of them gently with his finger and thumb

“Eres muy lindo”

First time having sex: (nsfw)

He’s really gentle with you, seeing as he’d probably initiated it after a make out session

‘Are you sure you’re ready? I don’t mind waiting until you are’

You’d tell him you’re ready, and if you’re feeling bold you’d touch him up a bit after saying that- just to get him a little riled up

He’d be really gentle with you, and try to give you the whole 5 star experience to begin with.

He’d start by eating you out, and you’d try not to focus on how good his stache’ feels between your legs

(I can imagine that being a whole turn on icl)

He’d be pressing really soft, gentle kisses along your thighs and chest, though I don’t imagine he’d leave hickeys on purpose (he thinks they’re kind of trashy, plus he doesn’t need to mark you to let people know that you’re his)

For your first time I don’t think he’d use a condom, just because he’s heard how some people find them uncomfortable, though his pull out game is strong so don’t worry about him getting you pregnant

Unless you’re into that kind of think, definitely let him know if you want him to cum inside because otherwise, yeah

He’d probably purchase your contraceptives, though don’t get this mixed up with him not wanting kids he definitely does, he just doesn’t want to be too hasty about it

Lalo puts the love in lovemaking, he’s really sensual and attentive to your needs the first few times you do it, though as you become more adhered and comfortable to him, he’d get a bit more bold

Think different positions and being rougher with you in bed, especially if he’s had a bad day and you let him know that you’re down (whether subtly or not)

Because I can imagine you teasing him on days where he has a lot of pent up anger and frustration, which leads to the most drawn out, rough sex you could ever imagine

Though yeah, Lalo is good, admittedly so. He’s confident in his ‘abilities’.

Aftercare, for your first time and in general is something he really likes, and sometimes maybe even gets off on?

Like just washing you or seeing you all tired out after sex can get him riled up on a bad day (or even a good day, depends on his mood and what’s happened etc)

He’d lay with you for a while after sex, toy with your hair and talk to you about nothin in particular, just general ramble of his inner thoughts

If he’s feeling romantic, whilst cuddling ( he’s the big spoon. No exceptions) he’d talk to you about how happy you make him, and how he’s going to marry you one day.

He’s very affectionate in general, though it probably comes out more post-nut. He’s a sentimental guy, okay!

“You make me so happy, amor…”

“I’m gonna marry you one day, when you least expect it I’ll propose and we’ll have the most amazing wedding...”

Kisses and cuddles with Lalo truly are the best

He may even sleep for a little while after!

With you in his arms, it’s tempting to just stay there all night/day long

Especially in the colder months!

A/N: ahhh that was so fun to do!! Please send me more hc requests for Lalo, he’s so bbg it kills me

[bananawafers]

IT IS DILF HOURS LADIES AND GENTLEMEN . we r xtra delulu today

[purplelupins]

What Kind of Man

|Better Call Saul|

Lalo Salamanca x fem!reader

Summery: Reader waits for Lalo to come home and takes the feeling between her thighs into her own hands…and gets a surprise.

Warnings: daddy kink(word papi used, but not daddy) sort of pet play, ownership of a person, use of a person as payment for a debt, fingering, obedient reader, older man/ younger woman, obsessive Lalo, possessive Lalo, unhealthy relationship dynamics

Notes: Look I was messy as hell and talking to my friend and she gave me a prompt to get my horny out and this happened. Enjoy!

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE THIS IS A NSFW STORY HOLY HELL GO AWAY

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

There was a stillness to the air that made your skin feel akin to static charged velvet. You mind spun and dragged simultaneously leaving your chest feeling uncomfortable and tight. You watched the clock on the wall as it ticked to 4:17 pm; it had been nine hours since you had seen that enigmatic menace of a man who kept you as his.

There was a certain kind of fear he inflicted in those around him- a predisposition of sorts that he had. You had always supposed part of it came from his last name, but you knew that was barely it at all. No, Lalo Salamanca didnt need his last name to drive horror and anxiety into the hearts of even those close to him. All he needed was his unmatched charm to mask his lack of remorse and a gun to sit comfortably in his rough hands.

And while you too used to feel that uncomfortable edge in his presence, you loved those hands of his- blood on them or not…figuratively or not.

The clock ticked again.

You sighed. He was usually home by then…he’d have you wrapped in his arms, sat at his desk on his lap or beside him in his car with his hand on your thigh.

But not today. You didn’t like to think about how quickly that man had shouldered his way into your heart and mind; it made you feel weak. But if having Lalo as the man to care for you meant you were weak…so be it.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t give you what you wanted. He did, mostly. All he asked for in return was your simple obedience. To Lalo, however, obedience did not just mean “do as I say”…it was a lifestyle. It was about loyalty.

Should you ever get taken, you were to be killed rather than betray Lalo Salamanca.

Should anyone ever attempt to lay a hand on you, violent or sexual, you are to remain loyal to Lalo Salamanca.

Should your life be in danger with Lalo by your side, you are to listen to only the words of Lalo Salamanca.

You were his, and he took his role very seriously. Lalo didn’t take your relationship lightly. He might have laughed about you being practically a pet when someone made a comment, but that night said person wound up dead. You were a contract, and he intended to maintain his end.

If you did this, he let you feel as if he held the world in his palm for you. His little princessa.

The thought alone had you clench your thighs as you wandered back through the house to your room.

The soft mattress dipped under you as you laid down.

You missed him. You always missed him.

“Lalo…lalo…laalo.” You murmured his name to yourself, trying out difference sounds as a distraction.

It wasn’t your fault you belonged to a man like him, but you did belong to him, and keeping yourself entertained was a part of it.

You missed his brown eyes that glittered even in the darkest rooms. You missed his scent that would engulf you; his arms that held you or braced him above you as he slipped inside you…

Your cheeks began to burn as you thought of the man. It wasn’t as if he kept you under lock and key…you had plenty of space to roam within the compound, but you missed his company that would bring the place to life. You swore even the birds chirped louder when he was there- they were his too. Everything was his.

You placed your hands on your stomach, and played with the fabric of your sun dress. It was a pretty little yellow one Lalo had brought you one night after being away longer than usual. You thought about what he had done to you after you had opened the box…you had had to wash the entire bed spread that night.

As your mind wandered you felt a familiar warmth begin to burn in your lower tummy, right under your belly button. You could feel your clit begin to pulse as if on instinct as you thought of the man who owned you. Your hand began to wander down your stomach to your hips where you drew up your dress around your waist; your finger trancing the top of your sweet little white panties that were now almost transparent with how much you were soaking them.

The image of Lalo leaning over you entered your mind, and you bit the inside of your cheek as you slipped your hand under the waistband. You gasped as you traced around your clit- already so sensitive. It was a mindless movement to slip your hand further down to your slit, which was now a soaked mess. You mewled in the quiet room, your hips bucking up into your hand as your other one squeezed your breast and smoothed down your stomach. Every touch sending your skin alight, your muscles twitching.

You eased your finger inside your cunt, and whined sadly at how poorly it filled you. Trying to add a second one did almost nothing to satisfy-

“Look at what we have here…”

You bolted up and withdrew your hands from yourself like you were a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

Lalo was already fully seated in a chair across the room, his eyes bright and playful. You noted a few splashes of blood that were now turning brown on his yellow shirt. No wonder he was in a good mood.

You hoped he noticed you had chosen to match him after he left that morning. The colour of sunshine.

“Don’t stop for me, pretend-“ he got up, dragging the chair with him and spun it, “-like I’m not even here, niña.” He straddled the seat and rested his arms on the back that now sat against his chest, leaning forward to gaze at you intently.

Your cheeks were flushed, and your body ached to jump into his arms to soak in his warmth; the worst part was he knew it. He knew you wanted to get yourself drunk on his scent. He knew you wanted him to make you cum, wanted him to murmur filth into your ears. But you had touched yourself without him, and he wasn’t about to let you off the hook instantly.

“Off you go.” He nodded his head, eyes alight and smile dangerous.

You nodded and sat up on the pillows, the setting sun had turned the room orange, and you suddenly felt so much warmer; perhaps his honeyed gaze had something to do with it.

Who were you kidding? Of course those eyes had something to do with it.

They had everything to do with it.

Those fucking eyes were why you were where you were in the first place. After he had hooked you with those eyes months ago, all he had had to do was flash you that smile of his and you had been done for, whether you liked it or not. It wasn’t as if you had a choice, but his charm had defibeky made the transition much easier.

If it hadn’t been for your father owing Lalo money, you wouldn’t be there. If Lalo hadn’t brought up what a pretty little thing you were; if your father hadn’t jumped at the chance to settle the debt with you in place of the cash…you would have still been in your own home. Hell you might not have been alive if you father put off paying Lalo back another week.

Your gaze met his as you slipped your hand back under your soaked panties and he tutted you.

“Ah, ah…show me.” He said, pointing to the fabric covering you. The older man’s scolding tone made your head dizzy with the need to please him.

You obediently moved them to the side so he could see you fuck your fingers back inside yourself. The feeling just wasn’t the same without him…but having any touch there was better than none. Your breathing began to get heavier, and a shiver ran up your spine when you noticed his did too.

Your fingers spread you open as you fought to pleasure yourself; you barely reached your gspot, making you buck up into your palm to gain some friction on your clit. The little touch had you gasping after teasing yourself so much, but it wasn’t enough. Evidently your creased brows and pout were enough for Lalo to know exactly what torture you were experiencing.

“Nothing like papi’s cock, is it?” He rumbled, pupils blow wide. Lalo liked seeing you whimpering for his touch; not that be needed the validation, it was simply amusing to him.

You shook your head, but didn’t dare stop. Lalo smirked, and slowly stood, walking around to where you laid and sat beside you. His stare had you entranced as he took your wrist and pulled your fingers from your cunt, and brought them to his mouth. Your lips parted as he sucked your slick off, his warm tongue gently lapping.

“How about I show you how to do it, pequeña? You’d like that, hm?” He murmured casually, as if his large, calloused hand wasn’t already pushing your thighs apart even more.

You nodded. “Y-yes please, Pa-Papi. Please.” The voice that came from you was barely a squeak.

He grinned, and held the index and middle fingers of his left hand up to your mouth, “Get them nice and wet for me.”

It was almost embarrassing how quickly you welcomed them into your mouth, lapping at them like you would a lollipop or other candy. Lalo took his hand from your lips and leaned over you as he dipped his hand under your panties; the heat from his large hand made you twitch into his palm, and he chuckled at your neediness.

“Look at you…all ready for me.” His voice had gained an edge to it as he stroked through your soaked folds.

“How’s that, niña?” He purred, breathing in your air as he began to weigh down on you, enjoying how you bucked your hips while he swirled his finger around your already swollen clit.

You tried your best to get a sound out but the most you could get out was a whine and a very breathy “G-good…”. Lalo grinned wider, and leaned down to lick into your mouth as he continued to play with your aching cunt like a little toy. The older man could feel you begin to quiver and shake. He inscreased the pressure his finger had on you and steadily mapped out your entire cunt like his thick cock wasn’t straining painfully in his jeans. Leisurely. Slowly.

An intense pressure began to build inside you where the heat used to be, and you began pawing at his shoulders. Lalo sunk down onto you, his chest against yours as he continued to tongue-fuck your mouth. “Such a good girl…feels good, huh?” He rasped, his accent coming thicker and thicker as he began to lose his composure.

You nodded and whined helplessly while that scolding hot coil inside you tightened like a vice. Strangling your insides.

“Cum for me…make papi proud, niña.” The older man eased his index finger inside you, and stroked your gspot effortlessly as he filled you, and before you could nod frantically, you were seeing stars. Your moan was swallowed into his throat as you clenched around him impossibly tight, rabbiting your hips up to fuck your self on his thick finger. “That’s it…there you go…atta girl.” He murmured pressing his hard cock against your thigh absentmindedly.

You cried out as he continued to stroke you through your orgasm, your cum drenching his hand. Then, as your whines settled, he stopped his movements, and pulled away from you. You didn’t even hear him start to unbuckle his belt. “Now why don’t you keep those legs open so papi can feel good too, hm?” He rumbled against you.

All you could do was nod.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@mandowifey

@theroadreader2

[doodledoobiedouble]

First of all, Lalo fans don't kill me, we make ocxcanon here, ok?🤣... So, I was thinking that Lalo wasn't really planning to sleep at all, they were just hugging, that's why he's still on his everyday clothes but he finally realized he's trusting someone and finds it scary...wouldn't it be nice? 🥺

[girlbloggerbae13]

Princesa Salamanca

Synopsis: Set after Hector Salamanca's collapse (thank you for that Nacho!), this story follows a young woman, Sarah Jackson, or now, Sarah Salamanca, the first female Salamanca by marriage to our dear and beloved Lalo. She heads to ABQ a few weeks before him with the twins to keep an eye on the family business and our previously mentioned Ignacio Varga, a task from her lovely Eduardo. She turns heads everywhere she goes, especially being an innocent looking token gringa, and has tricks up her sleeve. Being Lalo's girl, she is quite a firecracker. Readers will slowly learn her tragic backstory (tw: drug abuse, SA, prostitution) and how she became to be the princess of the Salamanca family. Not only that, but her relationship with Lalo, Nacho, and many of our other BCS favorites will be explored.

A/N: I'm really proud of this story! I've been in love with Tony Dalton since Hawkeye, but he's such a charming devil as Lalo! This was really thought out as I watched Better Call Saul, so it might be confusing. There was no proofreading, and I can't promise that I'll follow a strict schedule with posting, but I do hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think! I'll also probably end up posting on AO3.

Chapter 1:

“You’ll go with Leo and Marco to Albuquerque, and I’ll be there in just a few weeks, okay?”

Sarah frowned as she laid in her and Lalo’s bed, crossing her arms. Her husband, Eduardo “Lalo” Salamanca, was the unexpected love of her life. She never went anywhere without him. Don’t get her wrong, she loved Lalo’s twin cousins; they were good boys, great even, but she had been by Lalo’s side since they met at her old employer’s house.

Once upon a time, Sarah was a happy UCLA education student, and after that, a mother, and then a first grade teacher. Until her son got sick and her boyfriend left. A hopeful diagnosis turned to turmoil, and in desperation, Sarah resorted to what she previously considered a dirty career: stripping. Stripping led to drugs, and drugs led to connections. Connections led to her leaving her stripping career to pursue an “entertainment career” with a man named Tuco Salamanca.

That name, Salamanca. When she followed Tuco and his job offer to his home in Mexico, she had no idea she was getting involved with one of the most powerful families in the drug business. If it weren’t for Lalo, she would still be there, working 30 hours at a time, living off of rice and cocaine, and getting beat up both physically and mentally by all of her customers. She owes him her life.

However, none of that would have happened if her son had gotten out of remission and by some miracle, lived. But that was then, and this is now. There’s not a day that goes by without her thinking of her little Sam and what could have been.

Sarah’s thoughts were interrupted by Lalo climbing into bed beside her. “Aw, princesa, are you gonna miss me?” He asked, smirking. He ran a hand over her arm and pulled her close.

“You promise you’ll be there soon?” She whispered.

“Pinky.” He stuck out his pinky finger and locked it with hers. “Besides, you know the twins love you. They’re like your number one fans! Come on kid, it won’t be so bad.”

She rolled off of him and over to her side, facing the other wall. “I suppose, but you better be quick.” Sarah sighed and dragged herself out of bed, still wearing Lalo’s boxers and floral button up from the night before, socks unevenly pulled up on her legs from all of her tossing and turning, among other things.

Lalo put his hands behind his head, linking his fingers. He watched as she moved around the room, almost tiptoeing. She was delicate, but confident. The Sarah he met wasn’t like that. She was jumpy, skittish, and afraid of her own shadow. It was pitiful, but she was all the more grateful to leave her job to come home with him. He did care for the girl, a lot more than he thought he would. At first, he just wanted to help her out, of course, and let her escape the raging hands of his cousin, Tuco. But as time went on, he was mesmerized with how she blossomed. She became less of a bird with broken wings, a malleable young girl to blow off steam with, and she started turning into a firecracker. Sarah was Lalo’s favorite thing to ever happen to him in his years in the game. She turned him soft, but he didn’t mind.

“Have you seen my black heels?”

“What do you need those heels for? You planning on seducing one of the locals down there?”

She looked at him through her reflection in the mirror above the dresser, rolling her eyes. “Lalo.”

He chuckled to himself. “Whatever, don’t help your poor girl,” she teased. “I’ll find them.” She made her way downstairs after slipping on her velvet red slippers, a gift from Lalo for learning how to drive stick-shift. He followed the young woman.

When he got downstairs, he was greeted with his cousins. “Buenos dias, primos.” They nodded in response, the typical greeting from the stoic pair. “Sarah, you’ve got to get the boys to warm up on your car ride. We can’t have them scaring the skells!”

Sarah was pouring coffee with one hand and holding a newly lit cigarette and the black heels she had apparently found in the other hand. They were likely kicked off the evening prior in the process of the couple making their way to the bedroom. “Don’t you worry Eddy,” she said with a nickname that only she could call him, “Marco and I have a lot of catching up to do.” She walked between the twins. “Word on the street is that you’ve got it bad for your gardener. Julia, is it?” She eyed him while taking a drag from the cigarette.

Marco’s twin let a slight smile escape his lips, while Marco rolled his eyes. Lalo giggled. His girl was always going to find out everything, one of her many hidden talents.

“I’ll get your bag, mi vida, but come with me real quick. I have a task for you to do for me.”

Sarah followed the older man upstairs, grabbing his hand from behind. “What is it?” She asked, with childlike curiosity, always happy to help Lalo.

In the bedroom, Lalo reached into his nightstand and pulled out a picture, handing it to her. “You know Senor Fring and his little chicken side hustle, but I need you to keep an eye on someone a little smaller. This guy, Ignacio Varga, is one of mi tio’s guys. But he give old Tio Hector some pushback before his collapse. Something about his family, his dad’s business, whatever. He’s a stubborn one, but smart. At least that’s what they say. Just, I don’t know, watch the guy, figure him out, get him to open up. You have that way about you, you know sweetheart?” Lalo tipped her chin up with his fingertips so that she was looking him in the eye. “Can you do that for me?”

She smiled softly, unconsciously batting her eyelashes and giving him the hooded eyes. “Of course.” “Good girl.” Lalo smiled back, and after tucking Varga’s picture into her bag, he took both hands to hold her face. He exhaled, then pulled her in for a kiss. When he pulled away, her lips followed him.

“Wait, wait, wait, one more for good luck,” Sarah whined, protesting as she tried to pull him back with his shirt.

“Okay c’mere.” Lalo kissed her again, slower. This time, when he pulled away, she stayed standing with her eyes closed and sighed.

“Alright, now I can go. I better see you soon.”

He walked her outside and helped her into his cousins’ car, then placed the bag in the trunk. Lalo hit the back, signaling they were good for takeoff.

“Adios princesa!” He waved goodbye, and she blew him a kiss. He pretended to catch it and bring it to his heart, then turned back to his casa grandiosa, shaking his head and smiling. That girl was going to be the death of him.

“Es vergonzoso lo mucho que se gustan,” Leo muttered to Marco.

Sarah leaned up in between the twins. “Estoy justo aquí, ¿sabes?”

[nrgs929]

Victor x Reader P¹

reminder:There are two Michaels, her brother Michael Monroe and Mike Ehrmantraut, so try to focus so as not to confuse them!

Your clothes:

*You were wearing a white, sleeveless shirt under your gray pajamas*

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

At first, you and Mike(Monroe)planned to spy on Gustavo Fring's work and gather the necessary information to threaten him with it...And you were hiding the fact that you were a young woman who worked as a hired killer, because as far as you know, there are a few women in Albuquerque who work as hired killers, but most of them are men...So you started wearing these masculine clothes, hiding your protruding chest or any of your femininity, and you forced Michael to call you Louis during work or during serious and important times only.

_______________________

You were watching Los Pollos Hermanos Restaurant from your car, which was a few meters away from the restaurant, when you noticed a black car approaching the restaurant and parked in the street. You tried to look closely and saw a man coming out of it... Victor...Then you wrote down in your notebook the time, location, and what you saw specifically. Then you returned to the surveillance, and Tyrus and Victor were carrying boxes with the company’s logo on it. It seemed to be bread dough or something like that... You continued the surveillance,Then something else happened and you decided to leave and search at night, since you were a semi-nocturnal creature...

23:04

Somehow, you knew one of the branches of the crystal meth business that Gus was hiding was a car wash. You were following them with your eyes inside your car, hoping to find an entrance through which you could sneak out...With the strength of your vision, you were able to see a ventilation hole located on one side of the building, and smoothly you entered the building quietly, watching closely. Tyrus, Victor, and a number of men were guarding the place. You sneaked into Gus’s office,You were sure that no one would enter, and while you were searching the place looking for some things that might be useful to you, you came across a closed drawer, and without thinking, you broke the drawer and saw some files that you began to read and photograph,At that moment, you heard the sound of feet heading towards the office. You quickly returned the files in the place to their previous state and went next to the door. While the man was opening the door, you pounced on him, knocked him unconscious, put him under the desk and left the room,You sneakily wandered among the workers and easily left the building and returned home...

the next day

Gus discovered the broken staircase and that one of his men had been knocked unconscious after being interrogated by Mike. Meanwhile, you and your brother Michael had called him to arrange an interview with him,Gus's men greeted you and let you in, and Gus began talking to Michael to join the drug trade with him. Victor and Tyrus were standing in front of the door, and you were sitting in a separate seat next to Michael, looking sometimes at Gus and sometimes at the two frowning men,Michael threatened Gus to expose him and tell the DEA about him if he didn't agree. After thinking, Gus agreed that you would join him. Then Michael looked at you « Louis let's go » You stood and looked at Gus, then Tyrus, and Victor as you walked out the door,From that hour, your night shifts began with Gus and his men, guarding and such matters...

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

This is the first part of the story. Tomorrow I will publish the second part, stay tuned😉

[deadly-poets]

Baby, I'm Dangerous.

SUMMARY: Don (Y/N) is a well known cartel boss, her connections with Don Eladio became very well visible. She is a close family friend of the Salamanca family ever since she started to do business with Don Eladio, knowing Don Hector and various nieces. Especially the one that stands out the most, Lalo Salamanca, a bastard was his title from the woman. When Lalo comes back from Albuquerque with Nacho to see Don Eladio, he meets (Y/N) once again.

NOTE: This is a one shot! :) I was very much thinking of making this a fic but I'm not sure if others would enjoy it, but if you're interested, I would definitely make it a fic :)) or just one shot request <3. You may request a Don!Reader x Lalo one shots! Or even with other bcs characters :D. This is short because It's late at night and I'm tired 💪. Enjoy tho?

Word Count: 980

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Spanish Google Translate, Slightly OOC Lalo.

PAIRING: Lalo Salamanca X Don!Female!Reader.

✧˖°.(Y/N) FOUND HERSELF NEXT TO DON ELADIO, listening to him talk to Don Juan. 

The woman did not seem interested, as they only started to talk about Gustavo Fring, a cartel affiliate of theirs. 

What she heard had made a little mistake which made Lalo a little suspicious of the man.

With a big gulp of her drink in her hand, she felt her throat burn at the bittersweet taste of the alcoholic drink in her hand. 

She had to drink something to keep herself from falling asleep from all the standing, hoping to god that the day would end faster than it would.

Silence merged between the two men when he heard a familiar voice come into the distance, Lalo Salamanca was greeting the people around him, flirting with every girl in a bikini he saw. 

“¡Mira quien es!” (Look who it is!) Don Eladio exclaimed, watching as Lalo approached them.

(Y/N) wasn’t too happy to see Lalo, hell would you expect her to be. 

Lalo had his usual shit-eating grin upon his lips, looking at Don Eladio. 

“Don Eladio” was the words that escaped his lips, embracing Don Eladio in a hug like two siblings being reunited for a dinner party.

“Sabía que los americanos no podrían retenerte” (I knew the Americans couldn’t hold you) Eladio said as both males let out laughs, (Y/N) sighed, knowing she was going to need to get along with Lalo. 

When the Salamanca noticed, he returned the charming smile of his.

“Don (Y/N)! Look at you, all dolled up for me?” Lalo teased, only making the female bite back her tongue from sending death threats to him. 

Lalo lets out a chuckle, proud to get this reaction out of her, but he was hoping to get out of more than potential death threats.

Lalo had shaken Don Juan's hand, having a small talk about his arrival back home, thinking that he paid off the gringos to get him back here but Lalo had his ways. 

He peeked at the stack of wrapped cash neatly placed on the table. He smacked one of them, feeling the plastic wrap.

“¿Qué es tado esto?”(What’s all this?) Lalo questioned, looking back at Elaido and Juan. 

“Es lo que me trajo Bolsa de Fring”(it’s what Bolsa brought me from Fring) Eladio replied, Lalo raised his brows, nodding like he was impressed with what Fring had sent Eladio, Fring's men wrapping the money nicely like that, but Lalo knew his gift was going to be more impressive than Frings.

When the time came, they found themselves walking in front of Eladio’s house to see a brand new red car, it was impressive to see what Lalo had planned for the cartel boss like he was spoiling him with all his money. 

(Y/N) watched Eladio trace his fingers across the smooth surface of the red car.

Her (E/C) eyes glazed at the car, It was a nice car indeed, she wouldn’t even imagine giving Eladio this kind of gift like the cartel boss might have deserved. 

“Are you jealous?” Lalo queried, trying to examine her facial expressions but they were unreadable. 

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous?” (Y/N) sneered at his question. 

“Jealous that I’m not spoiling you like Don Eladio” He smirked, letting those words sink out of his teeth into her mind, Jealousy was not what a feeling that (Y/N) felt at all, she wouldn’t have cared less of what Eladio received. 

“Like I need your money, Eduardo” The woman hissed at him, Lalo felt tense hearing her call him ‘Eduardo’ but he seemed to like it. 

After what felt like hours, Eladio found the trunk of the car which in this newer car model was on the front of the car. 

Eladio called it the 'Frunk', letting out a laugh, he opened it to see a yellow box with a red sparkling now on it. 

He lifted the top of the box to see a bunch of cash stacked nicely like he liked it. 

(Y/N) hates to admit to these things but she was impressed with this amount of ideal setting for him. 

Like Lalo and Gustavo we're having some competition, who was best at giving gifts to Don Eladio. 

"You're the man!" Eladio exclaimed in Spanish, pointing at Lalo, only making the cartel man have a smile plastered on his lips at the words that came out of Eladio's mouth. 

"Did you hear that? I'm the man" Lalo said to (Y/N), making her chuckle at him. 

"Yeah, yeah. Don't rub it in on me, Eduardo" She said, crossing her arms, watching Eladio admire the car and the money in awe. 

Lalo knew that she hated when he would rub his victory in her face, that Eladio now would favor him over her. 

But he just couldn't help it, teasing the cartel boss was always his skill, and it was fun to piss her off like this. 

(Y/N) was a hard woman to please, Lalo knew that from the start, from the very beginning, he fell hard. 

He fell in love with a woman who would break his heart to a million pieces, and he LOVED it. 

[nanabrainrot]

Pleeeeeeeease keep the NSFW Lalo going, it’s been so quiet lately 😭😭😭

DONNTTTY GETT ME STARTTRRRREDDD

but while im here.

cw for nsfw content and mean dom lalo

Lalo who loves smacks your ass every given moment.

Lalo who never lets you wear panties under your sundress.

Lalo who always grabs your hair when you can’t hear him to say it in your ear, deep and mean.

Lalo with an oral fixation with your tits.

Lalo who always has you hoisted on his lap in a little dress, so obviously palming your ass in front of people.

Lalo who will have you ride him as he takes calls.

Lalo who has you suck his dick almost all the time or at least cockwarm him because he feels unnatural without his dick warm and wet since he fucks you so often.

Lalo who sucks your tits until they’re all wet and hard and he can’t touch them without you twitching.

Lalo who figures out that certain herbs increase libido and mixes them into your morning teas so you’re all sloppy and wet by the time he gets home.

Lalo who literally sprays dick desensitizer AND viagara if he has a day off so he can fuck you longer even though he’s constantly fucking you anyway.

Lalo who likes to give you a treat of ecstasy sometimes so you can get overstimulated by every touch.

Lalo calling you “my bitch” in front of people because he compares you to a bitch in heat.

Lalo who has been fucking you like a slut for 24 years and you’re so ashamed to admit he made you into his personal nymphomaniac <3 what a beautiful marriage am I right

[oceandolores]

i'm thinking about writing a Lalo Salamanca fanfic series, where the OC is Kim Wexler's younger sister or Jimmy and Chuck's younger sister. Are y'all interested? if yes imma post it on tumblr. IM OBSESSED WITH LALO SALAMANCA GOSH.

[genocidehim]

Bien llegao (Lalo Salamanca x waitress!Reader)

The owner's daughter of Michoacano seems to be used to dangerous men entering the restaurant, however, the presence of the new Salamanca managed to change her opinion.

notes: one-shot, use of pronouns she/her, the reader has mexican descent words: 1243.

Mornings at Michoacano used to not be too stressful. Your father was quite permissive, and your schedules could adapt to any of your needs depending on the day. It was one of the advantages of the place being infrequently visited.

You weren't foolish, you knew perfectly well that the lack of customers in the restaurant was due to its reputation of being frequented by dangerous people. It wasn't something that was known, but it was an open secret, something that everyone sensed when they saw more than five Chicano with unfriendly faces walking in. Fortunately, that didn't mean danger for you and your parents, because you always knew that Hector Salamanca would look after your safety, especially when he was using your father's place to conduct his business.

But things had changed a bit after Don Hector's illness. Now, you didn't hang out much with the Salamancas anymore, Tuco had gone to prison, and you never saw the twins there again. It was only Domingo and Ignacio who still used the place every week, so you could still feel some security in that small restaurant.

It was a Thursday morning when your father asked if you could give him a hand in the kitchen. There were more customers than usual that day, and he needed someone who could serve and attend to them, even though he could normally do it all by himself. You got ready in comfortable and fresh clothes; you knew perfectly well that the heat inside the restaurant could be too much at times, and you preferred to avoid spending the whole day wiping sweat off your forehead.

When you arrived at the place, everything seemed normal. You could hear the voices of some customers and your father in the kitchen at the back. Domingo was also there, the only one who seemed to be contemporary with you and with whom you could talk more confidently.

"Buenos días, Domingo! You woke up early today," you said with your good Mexican accent, something that you still carried despite having lived in the United States for many years.

"Good morning, today there's a lot of work, isn't there?" replied the young brunette. You could tell that his attitude had changed to something more jovial and confident, nothing like his scared attitude when he was with Nacho.

"Yes, finally! This place could use some movement."

Although you wanted to continue the small conversation, you heard your father calling you from behind with a stern voice. You quickly went to the kitchen behind the counter and listened carefully to his instructions: Chilaquiles for table 2, Enchiladas for table 1, and pozole for table 3. You nodded as you went to get your apron that would serve as a uniform, and while tying it around your waist, you continued to repeat the order of the dishes quietly.

Once ready, you returned to the kitchen and took two plates that would go directly to tables 2 and 3 while waiting for the next order to be ready. After about half an hour, you received the call once again from your father, and you knew that the food was ready. As you went to the place to pick up the plate, you heard the front door closing with some force, which angered you a little because it was something you had already warned those men from Salamanca about. They were allowed to use the restaurant for their businesses, but they had to be careful with the place.

Still with the plate in hand, you returned to the main area of the restaurant and took the last plate to the table, stopping instantly to scold the man who had just entered.

"Don't slam the door! Handle it with care," you scolded in a stern and somewhat angry tone to a man you hadn't properly observed yet.

He was a man slightly taller than you, and from his tanned skin and facial features, you could guess he was some South American or even a chicano. The Americans in this place usually don't look that... cálidos.

You noticed that he was a man in his forties due to his gray hair and the curious gray line that covered one of the main locks on his head. You almost trembled when this man looked at you and smiled.

"Excuse me, miss" his accent confirmed your deductions, but the tone of his voice was almost surprising.

Although you tried to keep yourself busy with your work, you couldn't help but pay more attention to him than you should have. Now this man was saying some words in spanish and was inviting the customers who were still there to leave the place with the excuse that "the restaurant would be closed for the rest of the afternoon." Although you wanted to protest and ask him why he was taking the liberty of giving orders in your restaurant, you saw your father in the distance with a look of terror as he seemed to try to tell you not to open your mouth, or that's what you understood by reading his lips.

When your gaze landed on Domingo, you knew it was something to be afraid of. On the other side of the restaurant, you heard your father cordially greeting the man he called "Mr. Salamanca."

A shiver ran down your spine as you realized you had just scolded and shouted at a Salamanca, the type of man who should not be questioned. Now you seemed to have seen a ghost, so pale that even your limbs felt cold. The man who had just entered stopped your father and gave him orders to stay out of the kitchen while he prepared himself a "almuercito" (lunch). You almost wanted to say something about it, but your father's stern look stopped you in your tracks.

From where you stood, you could see this man named Salamanca approaching you with a broad smile on his face that you were unable to imitate, you were too anxious to look pleasant. "Is she your daughter?" the gray-haired man asked your father as he pointed to you with his thumb. "Yes, she works as a waitress," your father said somewhat nervously. "Que lindura! A family business" he said, turning back to you and giving you a quick glance. His eyes seemed to be two deep lakes that you would be afraid to drown in if you looked at them for too long. "I'm sorry, corazón, but I'll take this for a few minutes. You take a break."

Before you could utter a single word, you saw this man bring his hands behind your back and felt him untie the knot of the apron you were wearing, taking it off you just so he could put it on. If his arrogant attitude wasn't enough to unsettle your nerves, his hands were capable of making you tremble, something he noticed. "I'm Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo" he introduced himself in a jovial manner as he tied the apron around his waist. "Do you want something to eat, reinita? I'll make some chilaquiles."

"No, estoy bien" were the second words you said after the scream a few minutes ago. Now your voice was much lower and less demanding, something that made him laugh. "Believe me, I'll make you such a good lunch that you'll die for it." Would he be able to do that…?

Sorry if this was too long or badly written😩😩 english is not my first language!!

[1ivinqdeadqir1]

SHADES OF COOL: VI

Chapter 6: No Good Men

A/N: Hey guys, it’s been a hot minute since I updated this fic, but I’ve had a lot going on recently in my personal life (I.e. university and getting assignments In) that by the time everything was complete, I no longer had the motivation to work on chapter 6. I think from now on I’m gonna aim for more frequent, less wordy chapters as this one in itself is already over 8k… I hope you understand and I hope you enjoy my shit attempt at smut lol… lmk what you think and if you want more

WARNINGS: Lalo and reader being pervs, oral sex (f receiving), allusion to alcoholism, shit childhood for reader, turbulent ‘friendships’

Word count: 8.4k words

Shades of Cool Masterlist: Here

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

As the music flows from the speaker, Lalo glances at you from where you’re sitting, your knees pointing in his direction and your eyes half-lidded. He extends his arm once you reach a red light and places his palm atop your bare thigh. You're smooth against him, yet there’s a chill to your flesh. Slowly, he begins to draw shapes into your pillowy skin. You don’t jump at his touch or flinch as he starts to move the pads of his fingers across the surface, though the warmth that settles in your stomach is almost too hard to ignore.

“Lalo?..”

He doesn’t answer and instead presses on the accelerator with the ball of his foot. The sudden jolt makes you jump, yet his hold remains firm, gripping—the houses in your neighbourhood flash by the window. When you reach your home, he parks up and turns to you, the car keys now in his pocket. You smile at him, and he smiles back.

“I had a great night tonight, Lalo..”

He shrugs, and his eyes are closed as he does.

“I know,”

“No, really, I did enjoy myself, though I… maybe we should… do it again?”

Lalo hums and taps on his lap. He doesn’t answer and instead steps out of the car and rounds his way to your side. The breeze whips at your exposed legs as he opens the door, outstretching a hand for you to take, a soft ‘come on’ falling from his lips. You almost can’t hear him; his voice is muffled beneath the pounding of your heart against your ribcage.

He walks you to your front door and chimes in as you reach the doormat.

“I think we should go out again soon as well. You’re a good person, and I mean…” he rubs the back of his neck, feigning bashfulness. “If tío Hector likes you, you must be an angel.”

The skin of your cheeks is hit with what feels like tiny pinpricks, the fuzz of your face slightly lifting as Lalo compliments you. An angel, perhaps an exaggeration from your visitor, but still, with the darkening hue, there was no denying how he made you feel.

“You don’t.. you don’t mean that.”

“I do. You think I don’t?”

He steps closer, and you don’t move. He delicately brushes back strands of hair, tucking them behind your ear. There’s a tenderness in his touch, as though you could break at any moment beneath him.

“What I think is that you’re exaggerating a little bit.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek and then your head. “Exaggerating, you think I’d lie to you?”

“I-“ you stammer, swallowing back the nerves that settle within the pit of your stomach. “Do you wanna come inside for a little bit? I have… have a bottle of wine we can crack open.”

Lalo sighs and locks his car before looking back at you, his dark eyes fixed on your own.

“We’re not just going to sit and drink wine, are we?”

He lets go and steps back, allowing you to unlock the door. You struggle to fit the key into the lock as he stands behind you, the scent of his cologne lingering in the night breeze. He smells like old money and expensive perfume, and you want to bury your face into his chest and take big breaths through your nose to savour it.

“It’s…well, you’ve been here before, so…”

As you enter the building, you kick off your heels, and they make a dull clicking sound as they land on the soft carpeted floorboards. Lalo follows you but doesn't immediately remove his shoes because he's too busy glancing at the pictures on the walls and the mirror adjacent to the front door.

“I have a small TV in my room. We can see what’s on?”

As you invite him into your bedroom, he takes his time observing the space and examining each piece of furniture. The room is coated in a muted, rosy pink wash, and the shelves are filled with books. The pages having been thumbed through countless times, resulting in a warm, buttery colour. His fingers gently trace the words on the spines of the books, "Stephen King? I never would have guessed that you were a fan of horror. Didn't he write that huge book about a creepy clown?"

“Yeah, pennywise… that book freaked me out when I read it, though Salem's Lot is my favourite…”

Lalo hums again. Your collection is so extensive he isn’t sure where it starts and where it ends. There are even books piled up on the floor and beneath your bed, by the looks of it. Their spines peek out from the bedcover, which tickles the carpet. “Do you have a favourite book, Lalo?”

“I… I don't have much time to read anymore, but when I was younger, I liked Blood Meridian. It’s perfect. The guy that writes it… He’s smart as hell.”

“I love that one. It’s a little gruesome in places, but I think it adds to the atmosphere?”

Nodding, Lalo turns his attention to the stuffed animals that sit propped against your pillows. He notices the little faces of the plush toys smiling at him and reaches for a pink, floppy cat, “Es muy lindo.”

The warm light of your bedside lamp highlights the gentle smile on your face. Your makeup appears smudged, but it doesn't detract from your beauty.

“Could you…”

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

Lalo takes a few steps closer and pinches the zip between his forefinger and thumb, slowly pulling it down your back until it reaches the band of your underwear. You thank him, though you pause when he doesn’t move to turn around or cover his eyes.

“Aye- where’s your bathroom again?”

“Just down the hall to your right- near the kitchen.”

When he leaves for the bathroom, you let the dress fall from your shoulders and pool around your feet. You unclip your bra and toss it haphazardly across the room with your dress. They land down by the cupboard, and you cover yourself quickly with an oversized graphic t-shirt that is a similar length to the dress. You sit on the bed, curled into the pillow closest to the wall and reach for the TV remote propped against the window ledge.

Lalo is quick in the bathroom, though he takes a moment to look at your hair products and the body wash. Picking up the shampoo and flipping open the lid, sniffing, He’s Hit with the scent of peonies and jasmine. The man can’t help but take one last breath before putting it down and looking at the others. He washes his hands before returning to the bedroom; even your soap smells of flowers. He makes a mental note.

“Hey, you okay, Lalo?”

You’re curled into a cushion leaning against the wall, and he smiles, the thrum of the TV drawing out the comfortable silence between you both.

“I’m fine; you have a lovely home. It’s so…cosy.”

You quirk a brow as he sits - having kicked off his shoes - on your bed with one leg folded atop the other, his back to the headboard with one arm leaning against it. You turn into him and smile, “Cosy, are you trying to say that I’ve got a small house?”

He chuckles, and you can feel his body shake as he does. “No, of course not. I mean- it’s small, but I meant that it feels… homely, you know?”

It’s your turn to nod, and when you do, Lalo rests a hand on your shoulder. “I do know. I’m only messing with you… I wouldn’t need a big house anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm, it is only me, after all.”

The film playing is a western from the 60s, something with Clint Eastwood that Lalo looks as though he’s somewhat enjoying. “Do you ever feel lonely here all by yourself?”

He doesn’t look at you when he asks, though you can feel the question pointed in your direction as he concentrates on the film. “No, not really. I like my own space. I spend enough time with people at work, though it can be a bit… not scary but tense when I find stuff outside my house from that weirdo.”

Lalo nods again, though he looks down at you with his brown eyes this time. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll stop bothering you.”

“It’s funny you say that; I haven’t seen or heard of anything over the last few days… which is weird.” Lalo traces the skin of your arm and nods along, humming as though he hadn’t a clue whether or not Daniel would quit his torment.

“You’re pretty observant, then?”

“I try to be. Well, I am when I have a full night's rest.”

Lalo huffs and slightly pulls at your T-shirt sleeve to reveal a floral tattoo that goes from your collarbone to your inner bicep. “Tattoos, huh? You surprise me more and more every day.”

You shuffle a little so you’re curled into him, your finger tracing across his chest, feeling the imprint of the pendant beneath his button-through shirt. “Mmhm, you don’t like it?”

“No,” he began, drawing his fingers across the delicate linework. “ I love it. It's well done.” You shiver beneath his touch as he mirrors the leaves with his fingertip. “Plus, it suits you. When did you get it done?”

You sigh and close your eyes for a second, glancing now and again at the screen. “When I was 18 years old, it was a birthday present to myself, I suppose. It only cost 120.”

“Not bad at all; mine was around a similar price, maybe more, but… I’ve had it for years now.”

You reach out to take hold of his arm, leisurely tracing over his tattoo armband- following each curve and swirl that the blackwork harbours. “Does it have any special meaning?”

“Not really,” he sighs and looks down, “just thought it looked cool when I was about your age.”

Laughing, you slowly place his arm back down, though you stay in a similar position to how you had been before. “You’re making yourself sound so old, Lalo.”

“Old? 43 isn’t old, princesa.”

“You’re old enough to be my dad, just about.”

You hear him hum and slowly reach down to place his hand on your back, rubbing circles into the T-shirt that bunches up as you wiggle closer to him. “Oh yeah? And you like that?”

“Maybe,” you brush his hair back. “The older the fruit, the sweeter the wine.”

Lalo scoffs and presses his strong nose to your hairline, taking a deep breath. When he sighs, you glance up at his lips. And when he moves back, you close your eyes and press your lips to his. The hair above his upper lip tickles your own, and you bunch your fists into the cotton sheet draped loosely across your bed. He seems to falter against the headboard but kisses back moments after, gripping your shoulders with both hands. You stay like that for a few seconds, savouring the warmth and pillowy velvet feeling of his lips driven between your own.

Your kisses become more desperate, and his hold tighter as you sigh against his mouth. He presses you down against the mattress, leaning over your top half, one hand curled into your hair whilst the other clutches at the exposed flesh of your thigh.

“La…Lalo,” you tilt your head back as he stamps hot, wet kisses down your jaw and neck. Lalo drags on the fragile skin that lies taut across your collarbone and pulls his large hand from your hair to your throat. His breath blisters as it fans out across your body.

“So whiny, and I’ve hardly touched you…” His laugh vibrates against the crook of your neck, and you roll your eyes and hips as he teases you by slipping his hand across your underwear.

“Can you stop with the teasing and just…do something?”

He huffed and sat back, pushing your hair out of your face. His knuckles had barely grazed your skin, yet he could feel the heat radiating from you. “You think that the first time I’m going to have you, it’s gonna be on this tiny bed? No way, you deserve better than that, amor.”

Tossing your head into your pillow, you let out a frustrated groan and look up at him with half-lidded eyes. Leaning on your elbows, you smirk at him and trace your fingertips across his abdomen until your fingers meet the metal clasp of his belt. It’s enormous, though, you know, as your hand cups the bulge tight against his pants that he isn’t overcompensating.

“Is that a gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?”

“ Oh, shut up.” he presses his lips to yours, and you hook your fingers into the loops of his trousers, pulling his hips flush against your own. He lets out a groan as you grind up against his clothed erection.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to take care of that?”

“I’m pretty sure. Besides, you have work tomorrow, hm? I don’t want you being bed-bound before work.”

You take your lip between your teeth, and he brushes his thumb across the lower. Parting them slightly, Lalo moves his thumb across your tongue and into your mouth. He watches as your tongue wrestles with him, and you whine and writhe under his shadow.

When he pulls out his thumb, there’s a lewd pop, and he chuckles to himself, muttering something in Spanish that’s almost inaudible due to the sound of your shallow breaths. The man then peels off your T-shirt and throws it to the ground, kissing down the valley of your breasts, leaving little bites in his wake.

“Fuck, Lalo”

He kisses your breasts and slowly takes your swollen bud between his teeth. Pressing your legs together, you whine into the cotton pillow as the tingling sensation stirs within your stomach and at the apex of your thighs.

“L-Lalo, please…”

He chuckles again, removing your nipple from his lips, a bastardly smirk across his face. “Yeah? Are you going to beg for me, princesa? Want me to play with your little coño?”

You scoff, “Don’t be ridiculous-“ he resumes kissing, his free hand kneading the soft flesh, and you moan before slapping your hand across your mouth. Your cheeks burn against your palm, and Lalo quirks a brow at you as you narrowly avoid eye contact. “Oh, I’m ridiculous now, hm? You don’t have to cover your mouth, querida. I wanna hear all your pretty little sounds.” Lalo momentarily cups your face in his hand, caressing the side with his thumb. You might melt with how he looks at you, with those gorgeous brown eyes.

“Mmhm, stop; you’re gonna embarrass me…”

“With all due respect, you’re almost naked…shouldn’t be embarrassed for whining.”

You nod, and he kisses your sternum before moving down your stomach to the underwear band. He takes a deep breath and sighs, “Ai, pinche cabrón, you smell good enough to eat.”

You giggle, resisting the urge to cover your face with your hands. “Don’t be disgusting, Lalo…”

He smiles and hooks his fingers into the elastic, slowly tugging the material down your legs. He leans back to pull them from your ankle, where they hang momentarily, before throwing them across the room. They join the place alongside your shirt. “So pretty, is this all for me?”

“Only for you, Lalo..” you sigh out.

Lalo hums and presses wet kisses across your thighs before arriving at the space between your legs, where he takes time drawing stripes with his tongue across the smooth skin. You cry out when he reaches your clit. You curl your fingers into his greying hair as he pulls you closer and latches his lips to the swollen bundle of nerves and suckles. He moves his head from side to side as he does, and one of his hands moves from beneath your leg to your hole. He toys at your entrance with his index and middle finger, drawing circles with the tips as you gush around him.

“Fuck Lalo, please, stop teas-”

“Stop? You really want me to stop?” He smiles up at you, his eyes drooping as if half asleep. You think you hear him laugh as you instinctively try to push your thighs together, but Lalo’s grip on your legs is firm, and you give up against the strain of him.

“No!- No, I didn’t mean that.” You want to hit yourself with how stupid you sound whining; you’re giving him all the satisfaction he needs. “Please, Lalo,”

He pauses his kissing and tilts his head, “ I don’t want you to think I’m just gonna fuck you and leave. I’m not. You’re all in now, querida.” The man between your legs lowers his head of dark hair. You move your hand to his greying soft curls and pull. There’s a groan, and beneath the sounds of your pleasure, you aren’t sure where it came from, but the sound vibrates against your core as two fingers enter you slowly.

Whimpering, you hit your head into the pillow and moan. It’s loud and obnoxious, but the cotton muffles your noises, and Lalo hums against you.

There’s a hot, bubbling feeling in your stomach, and the knot tightens as Lalo moves faster and curls his fingers inside you. You move your legs over his shoulders as he grips your right thigh with his free hand. Your feet are locked together, one ankle crossed over the other against his back. They twitch slightly, and his lips on your clit pull harder.

“L-lalo,” you almost feel like crying. You’re on the edge as he slams into you repeatedly. You inhale and exhale and feel the rush of heat leave your cunt. It’s sticky and warm against your thighs, and the sound that leaves your lips is embarrassing. Your legs twitch as he stays there, pushing into you and curling his fingers in a ‘ come here ‘ motion, his lips still secured around you.

You think you can see black filtering into your vision in bursts, like dahlias that come and go as sweat drips from your head and your nails sink into thick, dark brown. Your lungs' breath is warm, and as you pant into your pillow, now slightly damp, you feel him shifting slowly away. His kissing becomes more loving and drawn out, and he licks away the river between your legs that seeps into the mattress.

When Lalo sits back on his knees with his hands resting on your thighs, you don’t think you’ve ever seen such a beautiful man. His greying hair was slightly dishevelled and falling against his forehead, and the deep lines on his face fell, each holding so many years of human emotion. You think you smile at him in your fucked-up daze and reach out.

He lowers himself, and he’s talking, but the words aren’t registering as your palm meets the side of his head. Lalo presses his wet fingers against your lips, and you don’t hesitate to swirl your tongue around them, tasting the remnant of your pleasure, the way he makes you feel.

When he takes them from your lips, he leans back again, and you sigh. He’s gone for a moment but comes back with a warm towel from the heating rack in your bathroom. He presses the softness against your middle and slowly, lovingly cleans away the evidence of your arousal until there’s nothing left. Lalo then moves to a clean part of the towel and dabs at the sweat on your forehead. He draws back the strands of your hair that stick to the skin, and once dry, he presses a kiss there. It’s long, and in the silence of your room, the TV static is the only source of light. You feel safe.

“You’re sleepy now, huh? Ai, sweet girl,” he positions himself against the headboard, and you shuffle into his side, head against his chest with a hand on his stomach. You press, and he’s warm against your naked body.

Lalo combs his fingers through your locks and twirls the strands. He’s wide awake as you slowly feel yourself drifting in and out of consciousness. The man throws a blanket over you, and you hum against him.

“So precious; get some rest, amor. I’m not going anywhere.”

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

You wake up to the smell of pig fat frying and the sound of eggshells cracking. There’s no one in your bed, and you’re tucked into the covers with your head lying flat against the pillow. You nestle into the blanket, pulling it to your chest as you bend your knees and curl into a ball. The lids of your eyes feel drawn with sleep, and they almost flutter shut before you glance at the alarm clock on your bedside table. 5:50, you had to be at work for 7, and the realisation is what threw your body from beneath the covers onto the carpeted floorboards.

Your clothes from last night are folded and placed nicely on your dresser. Smiling, you pick them up and plop them into the washing basket before getting dressed in your uniform. It’s pretty frumpy, and it’s frustrating that you have to cover your tattoos, but it could be worse.

When you finally enter the hall and walk to the kitchen, the smell of bacon grease and eggs grows more potent with each step. Lalo’s stood at your stove, flipping an omelette and poking at the bacon with your spatula.

“Good morning,” lips curled up slightly; you slide alongside him as he plates the food onto two colourful dishes. “Buenas Dias, amorcita, you slept well?”

Nodding, you move to the coffee pot and pour yourself a cup. The steam from the liquid warms your cheeks as you proceed with the mug to sit at the small table parallel to the stove. Lalo slides the plate in front of you, to which you thank him with a kiss on the cheek when he comes back with a knife and fork. “Thank you, it looks amazing… usually I just have a pop-tart or some toast and leave.”

Lalo scoffs and sits down with his plate and a cup of coffee at his side, the same cup he’d had when you entered the room. “No, no, there’ll be none of that, basura. You have a busy job, hm? Gotta have a good breakfast to give you energy.”

“I suppose so.” you cut some of the omelette and fork it into your mouth. The softness of the eggs effortlessly melted between your teeth as you chewed, the salt-to-pepper ratio was perfect, and you think he even added some of your spices, which was a pleasant surprise. Bland food makes you want to vomit. He takes a bite of the food, and audibly groans “not half bad, if I do say so myself.”

“Not half bad? Don’t be humble. You’re an amazing cook, Lalo.”

He chuckles and eats some more, taking a sip of the coffee to wash it down. Your cup is steaming, so you refrain from taking long swigs to not burn your tongue.

“So, work today… I’ll drop you off, if you’d like.” he taps at the table with, as though tapping along to a song in his head. “No, it’s alright… I’ll have to drive home”

“I’ll pick you up and drop you off, I’m pretty free today, not much stuff to do other than pick up some things for the restaurant”

You bite the inside of your cheek, your knee bouncing as you think. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you” deep down, the selfish part of you wanted Lalo to pick you up and drop you off. As you finished your food sat across from him- slowly chewing to not make a mess despite your appetite- you wondered why he’d decided to stay the night and whether or not he’d even slept at all.

“If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have offered, querida”

The man sat across from you finished his food relatively quickly, and it made sense. He’s bigger than you, he can fit more food in his mouth. That, or maybe you’d spent half the time he’d spent eating watching him with your sleep filled eyes. Struggling to form any semblance of coherent thought as you admire the way he moves before you.

“I- alright, I’ve gotta be there for 7:00, so I’m gonna go freshen up in the bathroom and then we can go if that’s alright with you?” You join him at the sink as he dips his hands into the soapy water, a veil of bubbles lacing his fingers as he takes the plate from you with a smile. “That’s fine by me, I won’t rush you, you’ll be there.” Lalo pressed a kiss to your hairline, his nose in your hair as he does. Having not showered yet, you hope the smell of dry shampoo smells as good as the regular shampoo you’d normally use on work nights.

“Thanks Lalo, don’t bother drying them I’ll do that later when I get back from work”

He goes to open his mouth, but closes it again as you pace out of the room, starting toward your bathroom to get ready. Once having finished with the dishes, he places them both carefully on the drying rack alongside the non-stick pan and cutlery he’d placed out. Your coffee had been reduced to a grainy paste at the bottom of the mug, so he washed that out and cleaned it too.

As you were busy getting ready, he headed back into your bedroom and started on your bed. He began by straightening out the quilt and sheets, along with your bears which now sat facing him. He picked one up, the one you'd latched onto last night in your sleep, and he raised it to his nose and breathed in. It smells… sweet. It smells of you, your distinct, natural smell that he just wants to marinate in. It’s not like your shampoo or body wash, but more flesh-like in nature. Must be the pheromones, or something. He didn’t remember much from his biology classes in high school, most of what he’d learned just miraculously appeared to him whenever (or wherever) he needed it.

As Lalo continued to pot around your bedroom, occasionally picking up little trinkets you’d left out, you washed your face and applied a light amount of makeup, enough to cover the bags under your eyes and any blemishes. With the heat, you couldn’t handle a full face. By 12pm it would’ve melted off anyway, so there was no real point in attempting to try. You then brushed your teeth and tidied up your hair, finding it strange how there was a man only a few metres away from where you were currently standing. It was so unbelievably odd, waking up to breakfast, to a person. It was different, but the bubbling feeling in your stomach and the smile on your face - one you hadn’t forced either - upon seeing Lalo cooking away as though this house were his own was nice.

“Lalo, you really didn’t have to make my bed I-I could’ve done that just fine”

“Nonsense querida, you were busy getting all pretty for work, no? I always wondered how you did it,” he began, sighing. You tilt your head, as though to tell him you hadn’t really understood what he meant by that. “I’ve always wondered how you manage to look beautiful even in your work clothes, it’s just so effortless for you, isn’t it?” Lalo said that whilst wiping his hands together, he’s done now, and reaches for his jacket from the night before. You walk over and cup a hand to his cheek, pulling him down to your lips.

You keep him like that for a moment, and his hands move to your waist. There’s a hum from him, and your lips curve upwards against his. His moustache tickles a little beneath your nose. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, princesa.”

“I know… fuck… I hate that I have to go to work this early”

“I do too, but we better get going. If you’re late people will begin to suspect something… my tío will, anyway.. he’ll think I’ve stolen you from him”

You pick up your work bag and check if you have everything inside. You do, but freeze when Lalo mentions Hector. “He knows about this?”

Lalo shrugs, his shoes clicking against the floor as he makes his way to the door. “I haven’t said anything, but I think he knows. He’s… a pretty smart guy”

“Yeah, I gathered so, I’d love to talk with him”

Lalo chuckles, and it’s almost a scoff as you open the door and both step out into the warmth of the Albuquerque morning. “Nah, you don’t, he’d probably say something offensive or a stupid joke you wouldn’t get. Probably something about Americans.”

You blush slightly and nod, locking your door before joining Lalo by his side- making your way to his car which is still parked in the same place as it was yesterday. “I- not that he doesn’t like you.” He began, hands shoved into his pockets. “You’d know if he didn’t like you, he’s just like that with everyone… kinda… tough on the outside” he waves his hand, and you grin at him from behind your hand, your bags straps sit at your elbow, and it hangs down by your hip.

“I know, my grandpa can be like that… and my moms last couple of boyfriends.”

“You lived with your grandparents growing up?”

“Well, not really.” Lalo unlocks the car, and you step into your side. He shuts the door and you smile at him through the panel of glass keeping you apart.

When he’s seated alongside you, you continue, because he looks as though he’s still listening despite the conversation being momentarily interrupted.

“I went over every day after school and wound up staying until dark and then I’d walk home… probably couldn’t get away with that now with all the creeps around but… my mom was usually out with her boyfriends so I didn’t really have much of a choice.”

He hums, and you feel empty looking back at the memories of your youth. You always felt as though you’d wasted a majority of your childhood and adolescence. You had spent most of it taking care of your drunken father, so in a way it was stripped from you, but still, the pain was there. Like a cavity within your chest, it should have been filled with the happy memories of going out with friends and birthday parties. Though, most pleasant memories were tarnished by an explosive argument between your parents. Much like this conversation.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overshare”

He shook his head and placed a hand to your shoulder, a small smile curving against his lips, his moustache rising with the corners of his mouth. “Don’t ever apologise, you can talk about whatever you want with me hm? There’s no such thing as ‘oversharing’ with me querida.”

Despite his kindness, the pessimistic side of your psyche wondered whether or not the kindness in Lalo’s actions and words was to substitute for something much more sinister. Anyone normal would feel somewhat overwhelmed hearing all this, but Lalo didn’t seem phased whatsoever. Like he’d heard much worse, or experienced something as a child that had been just as bad - if not more terrible.

“You’re too kind to me Lalo, really, I don’t get you sometimes”

The elder man's smile remained, though he raised a brow as he started up the car “yeah? Well, most people don’t… but… you really don’t have to ‘get’ anything, I’m an open book”

“But…Sometimes even open books can be hard to understand if there’s a deeper meaning beneath the surface, don’t you think?”

He hummed at that, and brushed it off as though it were something that happened with everyone. By the time you got to work, you had a few minutes to spare. When you got out and turned to the entrance (he had parked- much to your distaste- at the very front of the building like a taxi would when dropping someone off) he rolled down his window, an arm leaning over the edge.

You sigh, and walk back over, leaning down with your hand against the doorframe. “Not even a goodbye kiss from my girl hm?” Lalo mused, and you rolled your eyes before leaning down and pressing a chaste, quick kiss to his lips. He followed by pecking your own a few times, his hand coming to your hair. You sigh against him, and keep your lips against his for a little longer. With your eyes closed and the sliding doors behind you, it’s almost easy to forget where you are.

But, inevitably someone clears their throat, it’s Jen, smoking a cigarette a few paces away. Her jaw slack.

You wipe the smudged lip gloss against the inside of your sleeve and bid Lalo another goodbye. He waves you off and beeps before reversing and turning out back onto the main road.

“What was that?” Jen finally manages, stubbing out a cigarette with her pumps. You scoff, “What was what?” the flush of your cheeks giving everything away. You didn’t even have to say anything incriminating, she knew exactly what was going on.

“I guess he’s not bad on the eyes, but perhaps a little old for you though?”

“Old… Lalo’s not old,” you rebuke her argument, and she laughs at how defensive you get over something so trivial as his age. “Besides we’re just friends”

Jen laughs out loud, walking with you through the front door and to the desk where you both sign in. Her messy signature scrawled beneath your own. “Yeah because I tongue all my friends in public, at WORK no less…, if management found out you were fraternising with a patient's nephew…” she hissed through her teeth, and you slapped her shoulder, not hard, but as if to tell her to lower her voice. “What’s he like anyway? I mean… lookin at him, he looks like he knows how to fuck. Maybe I’ll hit him up after you’re finished with him.”

“Jen, seriously? please don’t tell anyone, it’s nothing serious, he just… he just took me out for a meal to thank me for taking care of Hector, and the sex thing-“ you feel your cheeks and they’re hotter than they were before “we- we didn’t even do anything it was just dinner.”

“Ah so you’re on a first name basis with his relatives now too? Whatever happened to Señor Salamanca?”

“Oh it’s - he won’t be here long anyway… he’s only visiting whilst Hector gets better”

When you both reach the staff room, you place your things in the locker you’ve had since you’d started working at Casa Tranquila, and sanitise your hands with the small bottle you carry with you in your purse. “Yeah, if he gets better, the guys a veggie, he has one foot in the grave and the other on Stephen Hawking’s thro-“

BANG. the sound of metal against metal echoes around the quiet room, most of your coworkers have started their early duties… many of which involved cooking and serving the food to residents and waking those who haven’t already woken up.

“Can you shut up, don’t talk about Hector like that. What the fuck is wrong with you today, Jen?” For a moment, in your burst of rage, she looks shocked. But when that subsides your smoking buddy is overwhelmed by a hollow twang of fear that leaves her mouth dry and her palms sweaty. She hadn’t seen you burst like that before over a joke. “Damn okay, don’t have to get pissy about it… it’s just a damn joke”

“No Jen, I do.” You inhale sharply, as though to prepare yourself “I’m fucking sick of it, why do you think it’s okay to make jokes like that? He’s sick, god knows how terrifying it must be to-to not be able to do anything” Perhaps you’re not only angry about Jennifer’s incredibly ableist comment about Hector, but also iritatied by her constant interference with the personal life you’d only just begun living.

“My sex life is also non of your fucking business. I’m not friends with people like you, I don’t need friends that are horrible people. You give me cigarettes and I give you cigarettes” her jaw falls slack momentarily, as you continue with your monologue. “Our relationship is transactional, and if you think it’s anything more, then I’d get the doctor to take a look at your head, because that’s fucking delusional. You think you can talk about people like that and call yourself my friend? No way.”

“It was a joke-“

“A joke, not a joke, people say offensive shit all the time and use it being a ‘ joke ‘ as some sort of cheap cover up. If you’re going to be a prick, own it, because coming up with excuses like that makes you look absolutely pathetic.”

You think you see tears pool at the older woman’s waterline. She throws her stuff into her locker and sniffles against her sleeve. For a moment you feel bad,

but that brief moment of guilt is washed away when she storms off to go and wake up Sandy and Cheryl.

It’s a bit ridiculous, how Jen felt as though she could talk like that and not expect someone to say something. She’d been saying things like that about residents, Pearl, Dorothy, Stephen, for quite some time. It had been getting on your nerves for so long, but your growing nicotine addiction outweighed your courage to say anything. Though perhaps it had been your relationship with Lalo that made you feel so strongly about the way Jen had joked about Hector's state.

At 11, you found yourself once again sat by the elder Salamanca's side. Everything Lalo had told you about him at the park, the stories, they made you smile and filled you with a bittersweet sadness that he couldn’t elaborate himself. Supposedly, the man had once been quite wild, though a part of you wondered if that was before or after they’d established the family's restaurant business down in Mexico. It didn’t seem to fit Hector as well as it did Lalo, considering his amazing cooking skills. Perhaps he specialised in something else, and it were Lalo’s parents- his mother and father - that’d begun it. He never mentioned them, only ever talking about Hector. It made you curious, but at the same time you understood how painful it could be talking about family.

“Are you hungry? I can go and get you something to eat, breakfast didn’t look all that appetising today..” shifting forward in your seat, you place your book down and keep your eyes set on the elder Salamanca. Who shakes his finger over the bell for a few seconds before striking it. The sound echoed around the rec room, and you smiled, nodding. “It’ll probably have to be something soft, I hope you don’t mind… is that alright?” He rings again, his lips wriggling as he looks at you pleadingly behind his eyes. It’s hard to imagine that only a few decades ago this man was dunking his nephews heads underwater- a strange form of affection, but affection at that.

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

You ladle some birria for the old man and add a few herbs atop the chunks of soft veg that float on the surface. It smelled amazing, and your stomach even grumbles when you plug in the handheld blender and adjust the settings. The low buzz and vibration from the blender head when you apply pressure into the bowl reminds you of your phone, not the new one that Lalo had bought for you, but the one he had snapped and tossed to the back of his car. A fancier, much nicer car than the one you drove to and from work, day in and day out. The trill of the blender against the ceramic bowl for a second brings you back to that embarrassing moment where you broke down, and you feel your grip tighten. You rub your thumb against the tiny silicone mounds and even if you don't want to, with your other hand steadying the bowl, you imagine red. Red soup? Thick and churning in a bowl, little slug-like clots forming in the pool.

And then, as you stare out, a hand places itself upon your shoulder. “Hey, you okay? That soups starting to look like… well.. Dishwater”

It's Neil. You flash a smile up in his direction. It’s sweet, kind, and you even think you see him blush a little. Though that could just be a part of his naturally pasty, ruddy complexion.

“Actuallly, Neil, Birria is a sort of stew,” he rolls his eyes at your reply, “although i guess…” tapping the head of the blender against the rim of the bowl, you hand it to him and he graciously accepts. “ I guess this is more of a soup now… oh well,”

Neil chuckles and flicks some of the birria from his fingers, his laugh sounds a little forced, you think, as you grab a pinch of parsley and use it to garnish the surface of the birria-soup.

“I’m sure Salamanca won’t care, tastes good today I bet, Kev’s on cooking duty.”

“Yeah? Well that sounds swell, Neil.” you say, dismissively grabbing a silver spoon, tossing your head back in an attempt to move hair from your face. “Well, i’ll be seeing you”

You turn and start toward the swinging canteen doors, but he calls after you- even goes to grab your sleeve.

“wait - i- do you wanna go grab something to eat later? Dinner, maybe?”

For his own sake you stand and hum, thinking through your very scarce agenda for the evening. “I'm sorry Neil, I’m out tonight but maybe some other time, yeah?”

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

After spoon feeding Hector (which, to your dismay, you think he enjoyed a bit too much) you use the majority of your break to read more of ‘the count of monte cristo’, and the remaining quarter to text Lalo Salamanca.

‘Hey Lalo :) ‘

He replies relatively quickly.

‘Hola, querida, you good?’

As your eyes wander along the message, you smile to yourself- you can’t help it. Everytime you read his messages you can just imagine the deep rumbling of his voice, and even worse the feeling of your head against his chest.

‘Yeah just on break :)’

He doesn't reply for a bit, and instead, your phone goes off in the middle of the rec room. You silence it quickly, muttering ‘sorry’ beneath your breath to the few people sitting inside on such a hot day. Hector stares at you for a second too long, and you have a weird feeling from within your gut that he somehow knows what you and his nephew are up to, like Lalo said he sould. It was silly, really. How embarrassed and flustered you felt, but nonetheless, despite your age it did feel as though an adult had just walked in on you and your secret, ‘not-so-boyfriend’ boyfriend. You were 17 years old again, hiding away in your room holding hands beneath the covers.

Once having slipped through the back doors and into the smoking area, you lift the phone to your ear. He’s the first to speak, and the nerves from a moment ago instantly subside at the sound of his voice.

“Buenas tardes amor, how’re you hm? Bet tio has been keeping you on your feet”

“Well,” you begin, leaning up against the outside wall, a good few metres away from the rec room. “You’d be right, in his own way your tio keeps me very busy- almost like he doesn’t want me spending time with any of the other residents.”

Lalo chuckles, and mutters something fast in his native tongue that you don’t quite grab. “Ah same old tio, the guy can pick em’”

You laugh to yourself, although it's more of a huff as you bashfully straighten out your clothes to keep your hands busy. “Yeah? Well, i guess you two have a similar taste in women.”

“Hmm sorta, though i- he doesn’t like you in the same way i like you, i think.” you imagine Lalo scratching at his moustache as he speaks through the phone. “He just- he enjoys your company, no? And i mean… he may be paralysed but the guy isn’t blind, he can tell the.. What’s the saying again… the wheat..”

“Wheat from the chaff, i think is what you’re looking for, Lalo” you say, and he echoes it back. You can’t get over how animated he sounds, even through the phone.

“Si, niña inteligenteeee!… you’re speedy, huh? Gotta be all that reading you do”

You raise a hand and cup your cheek to find it warm - in spite of the shade in which you stand. You can hear his smile as he talks and visualise what he’s doing - probably cooking at the restaurant, maybe driving somewhere.

“I guess, you should let me read to you.. it might help you get a good night sleep, a few residents in here like when i read to them”

“Someones feeling cocky today, are you tryna call me old, again?”

fuck. “I didnt mean it like that-”

He bursts out laughing from his end, and you realise from yours how his laugh sometimes reminds you of a disney villain. Damn, if Lalo were a disney villain, he’d be a sexy one. “I’m just teasing you bebita… though you did say you like em old…”

Scoffing, you lean your head back against the wall “Not that old, Lalo.”

He’s silent for a moment and a quiet ‘yeah’ falls past his lips in a sigh.

“hey so i was wondering, princesa…” you grin at the nickname, cheeks flushed as you weave the ends of your hair between your fingers.

“How about you stay at my place tonight? I’ll cook dinner, we can watch one of those old movies… be nice, get to know each other a bit better”

You hum to yourself - as though you actually had to think about what the answer would be. “Hmm sure, I can do that… though first you’re gonna have to drop me back at my place so I can get my things ready”

“Not a problem, what do you want for dinner? I’ll have to go pick up some ingredients…”

“Surprise me”

A loud creaking sound erupted from behind you, and you watched as Neill wheeled out a few of the residents into the warm Albuquerque air. You waved a hand to him, as Lalo continued to talk from his end of the phone. You couldn’t quite pick up what he’d been saying, yet when you brought your attention back to him, he seemed almost aware of your distraction.

“You there?”

“Yeah sorry, just work… I might have to go but, I’ll see you later alright? Sorry I couldn’t talk for longer… gotta start preparing lunch for the rest of the residents”

Lalo hummed and you could feel the warmth of his smile through the receiver, his free hand gripping the leather wheel.

“Don’t apologise, hermosa. You’re a busy woman, I like that.”

You blush- biting at your fingernails as Lalo’s thick voice thaws at your burning anxiety- leaving you vulnerable in a similar way to how he had last night, with his head between your thighs.

“You’re too sweet Lalo… I’ll talk to you later,”

“Of course, hasta luego mi amor”

With that you hear the phone beep, just as Hector's pushed outside by Neil, you slip your phone into your pocket and straighten out your uniform.

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

You sent him a quick text once your shift was over. It was at times like this that you savoured your flexible hours and the fact you rarely - if ever - handled the Night Shift. Mainly because you thought it was unbelievably boring, but also because - despite the contents of your day - you enjoyed staying on your toes at all times. What was the point in working as a caretaker for the elderly if the elderly were all sleeping?

You’d been waiting outside Casa Tranquila for what felt like hours- but when you looked at your watch, it had only really been 15 minutes. Still, somewhat strange considering Lalo was almost always on time- sometimes even early just to surprise you - whenever he’d pick you up… like that time he took you to the park.

Having neglected your jacket at home, you retreated inside and sat in the waiting room- intended for visitors who had to sign paperwork of some sort before entering. It felt like it went unused a lot of the time, but for moments like this it helped.

Although, you’d much rather be sat in Lalo’s car, his hand on your thigh as he drove with such effortless skill through the streets of New Mexico.

It felt as though with every passing minute you looked to check your cell phone. It was new, so it’s not like you weren’t receiving his attempts to contact you, right?

At 8:45pm, your phone began to vibrate against your calf- which was now pulled up alongside the other on the cloth sofa. The LED call screen flashed up at your tired, sunken eyes: ‘unknown’ scrawled in pixelated letters that had your stomach drop to your feet.

Hesitantly, you flipped the cover and raised the cell to your ear- you couldn’t hear anything on the other side and instead hoped the stranger spoke up first.

“Hello?”

You swallow back the lump in your throat, the voice on the other end was gruff, they sounded almost angry, frustrated with you for something you were currently unaware of. “Hello? Who is this?”

“Nacho, its- it’s Nacho Varga- a friend of Lalo’s” you could have commented on the tone nacho used just now- as though he didn’t consider himself a friend of Lalo’s whatsoever- and far from it.

“Nacho, hey, is everything okay?”

There’s a pause before Nacho hums from his side of the phone and you know by the moment of silence - where the man on the other end tried to think of how to answer - that something must have happened.

“Nacho? What is it? Tell me I swear to god I’ve been-“

“Lalo, it’s Lalo. He’s in prison.”

[queenmdcrvd]

There needs to be more lalo Salamanca x reader stories. I literally have so many good ideas but im TERRIBLE at writing. Someone satisfy my lalo addition.