#lalo x reader

[purplelupins]

Salvador

|Better Call Saul|

Part I Part II

Lalo Salamanca/Fem!reader

Word count: 16k

Summery: Reader just wanted a fresh start, but when she starts working in a care home, it seemed that she bit off more than she could chew when she meets a member of her clients family.

Warnings: slow burn, age gap, manipulation, intimidation, violence (see note), smut (p in v), fingering, degradation and praise, edging, pet names (niña, niñita, princesita, Cariño, Ratoncito) Spanish (have a translator ready), papi kink, Lalo kinda comes with his own warnings, I’m not an electrician or doctor

MINORS DNI I AM NOT GOING TO ASK AGAIN

Notes: this part contains detailed violence (domestic violence, gun shots, talking about death), and smut.

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Lalo sat in his car watching that laundry facility like it was a ticking time bomb. Indeed it was his time bomb and he would be there when it went off. It was only a matter of time before he confirmed his theory. He knew that crisp Mr. Fring was hiding something fantastical behind his trustworthy, efficient methods. And when that moment came, and the bomb exploded…Lalo would bask in the heat of its flames on his cheeks-

The obnoxious ringing of his phone snapped his focus in half. The little screen sat illuminated as it continued on its insistent noise. Lalo stared at it, and was about yo snap it shut, and fling it into the back seat until he saw the number; his eye twitched.

He knew exactly who it was.

They hadn’t called him during watch hours for months.

The older man calmly answered it, and held it to his ear, and waited.

It wasn’t a full minute that had passed when Lalo hung up the phone, and was peeling out of his watchpoint fast enough to leave two black tire marks.

There was no doubt that he could have simply told his uncle’s men to deal with it; to dismiss whatever was transpiring and move on, not caring if you were alright or what you were going through.

Then he could have moved on with monitoring the facility.

Easy.

But there was something that ignited inside Lalo when his tio’s guy recounted what had happened. He knew he shouldn’t give a rats ass about going there himself- that was why he had those men there. Lalo could feel that awareness eat at him as he sped through the city, but he crushed it down. There were very few thoughts in his head as he drove, and questioning why he was doing what he was doing, and psychoanalyzing himself was not one of them. He never questioned himself, not really; he just…did.

Lalo pulled in outside your shitty building, and didn’t wait for the men to speak as they joined him on the sidewalk. He took a look up at your window, and felt his left hand twitch when he saw the dim light.

“No entres hasta que yo te lo diga, ¿entendido?” He rumbled, not taking his eyes off the window as he turned and began striding up to the building. The men stayed behind, just as he said. Lalo reached into the back of his jeans with one hand and into his pock with the other, pulling out his pistol and silencer. The metal pieces rolled together easily in his hands; just as seamlessly as he hid his gun, and smiled charmingly at an old lady as she held the door open for him as she took her little dog out for a pee. It was so dark she didn’t see how dead his eyes were. How his soul was leaving them with each passing second.

Lalo began planning his next few moves depending on what was occurring inside your apartment. Were you a plant from another cartel and this was your handler? Were you law enforcement undercover? The older man simultaneously thought over each possibility.

He took the flight of stairs up to your floor, and quieted his footsteps as soon as his eyes fell upon your door. Lalo had stood there once before weeks ago, gun in hand just as it was now…but he had left after just a moment. Killing you wasn’t worth it.

Once he was outside your apartment, he leaned in, and listened.

There was a raised voice inside. An angry one at that too. And a cry.

Lalo didn’t dwell on what it was saying or who it might be; he raised his foot and kicked right next to the lock on the door. It burst open. The older man took three strides inside as the door bounced off the wall as he surveyed and took in the scene before him. His eyes flicked from detail to detail rapidly, piecing everything together in seconds.

The lamp you used was kicked over and partially broken- only the lightbulb was intact, and partially at that. In the low light, he could still see that you were curled up against a wall; broken objects, scuff marks and blood around you and behind you. You were sobbing…shaking. Your hands were over head, arms in front of your knees…bruised and bloody.

There was indeed a man there, just as Hector’s men had said. He was standing over you with his back to the door, words spewing from his mouth at you. His shadow ate your little form up.

The man had begun to turn towards Lalo as he walked into the apartment, but his fate was sealed as soon as Lalo saw his bloody knuckles.

Your blood.

Lalo didn’t stop to ask any questions or make a snark comment before he emptied his gun’s clip into the man’s body. The bullets shredded his flesh, spattering blood as the metal existed his back. Lalo didn’t lower his gun until the man began to crumble to the floor, and he watched despondently as blood started pooling around him. It began to fill each little crack and groove in the wooden floor.

There was a beat of silence following the last shot before Lalo pulled his phone from his pocket.

It only rang once.

“Hecho.” He muttered, then hung up.

Then as he slipped his phone back into his pocket…he saw you.

Actually saw you.

Lalo let his gaze wander over your shaking form. You resembled more of a stray animal than a young woman covered in blood. Your knuckles were white from how tightly your were holding your head. He watched the man’s blood that had spattered onto you mix with your own from the wounds he had inflicted. Then, once the noise faded away, and there was no movement, you began to unfurl. Your arms came down jerkily, and you tentatively rose your head up to see what had happened; you eyes were wide, and puffy. Cheeks flushed against your blanched skin.

His hand twitched.

Your dazed eyes slowly refocused. It took a moment before you followed the edge of the pool of blood to the body now laying on the floor; limp and cold. Lalo could visibly see the scene in front of you settle in your mind while you unclamped your legs from your chest. You slowly got to your knees, eyes still trained on the body, and sat there. The older man didn’t move an inch as he watched you; he was fascinated. He realized this must have been your first time seeing a dead body.

He felt honoured.

You didn’t cry, or scream, or cower in fear. You just looked.

It was as if you were in a trance as you finally rose to your feet; your eyes void of any emotion, mouth in a plain line. Indifferent. Analytical.

Lalo might have been a man of many words, but as you took a few difficult steps towards the body, the older man chose to observe you silently.

For the first time since your door had been slammed in your face that evening, your eyes weren’t hazy. You walked to the edge of the pool of blood, and stared down at the body. He looked so human…so much less of a devil than he had when he was alive. This man who had been nothing but a living nightmare for you was…gone. In a matter of three seconds, he was completely gone.

You didn’t know how he had found you… or why. You tried to remember the moment you had first seen him, but he had some so much damage to you over your relationship that you couldn’t recall your first date. Couldn’t recall a lot in fact.

You took another step forward and stood in the blood of your ex-boyfriend. Then as the warm liquid slipped between your toes, something in you completely snapped. Broke.

You were flooded with the first memory you had of blood. You had scraped you knee and someone kissed it better…told you it would be alright and to keep playing. You remembered how smiling used to be so easy and not an invitation for people to think you were soft or easy. You remembered that girl who grew up and saw the best in people. Who had her likes and dislikes and didn’t base her personality on whatever someone wanted to see. You remembered her. And you remembered how he erased her. How he told her that he would keep her safe, but he betrayed that trust at every turn with a perfect lie or justification to draw her back in.

The blood surrounded your feet. Your eyes slowly sharpened, and without another thought, you rose your leg up and delivered a form kick to your ex’s limp side, shoving him a foot across the floor.

He looked so small now…so insignificant…and you felt the fear you had of him melt away, and hate take its place. Resentment, frustration, sadness…it all flooded in.

So you kicked him again.

You still hadn’t fully registered Lalo’s presence, and he was content with staying a part of the background as you began to show him this hidden part of you. Vicious. Vindictive. The parts of him that only the very unlucky saw- it was spectacular to see them mirrored back to him.

You were ruthless.

You kicked the body again, and again and again until he was shoved a few feet from where he had fallen, and there was a streak of blood in his wake. Tears began to stream down your cheeks and your skin felt as if it was burning. It was overwhelming as you beat him with every bit of energy you had left.

A pressure began to build in your chest, and you half wondered if you were going to throw up or pass out from how much you were feeling all at once, but then words formed on your tongue and you let them out.

“You SON OF A BITCH, YOU FUCKING RUINED ME.” Your broken cry filled the apartment, and Lalo’s eye twitched slightly at your raised voice. You were letting go. You were in a frenzy; overtaken by everything you never let yourself say or feel, “I don’t even know WHO THE FUCK I AM ANYMORE! YOU’RE BETTER DEAD YOU ROTTING FUCKER-“ you kicked and stomped and kicked again and again, even when your feet hurt. A snap sounded through the apartment but you were too far gone to realize it was his ribs snapping and caving in.

Blind rage had overtaken you. You couldn’t think as you continued your assault.

You didn’t see Lalo move- too focused on the body under you to notice him until a pair of strong hands grabbed your shoulders and pulled you away from the body- bloody footprints on the floor from where you staggered back.

“Okay, I think you got him.” Lalo laughed as he hauled you away.

But your adrenaline was still raging through in you. Regardless of his thick arms locked around you, you started squirming in his hold. Anger fuelled you and you fought to try and get back to the body. Needing to hurt him as much as he hurt you, but Lalo secured his arms around you better, and hoisted you away from your living room and into your small kitchen.

But still, you couldn’t think. All you knew was that someone was stopping you from getting back at the person who had destroyed you. It didn’t matter that it was Lalo Salamanca who was doing it, you didn’t even know it was him; he was just arms and a voice and you needed him to let you go.

Without thinking, you spun in his tight hold and hit him.

A smack right on his cheek.

Then all at once, you saw him.

The sting on the palm of your hand seemed to wake you up, and as Lalo dropped his arms to his sides, you saw exactly who had fired that gun…who had picked you up…who you had hit.

His grey curl hung over his forehead, and his mouth sat in a line under his neat moustache.

You might have been horribly startled by his stony face…but it was his eyes that made you keep from asking for forgiveness.

They were black, and they glittered in the low light.

But they weren’t furious.

There was a moment of silence that stretched for far longer that you knew how to measure; he was processing you. You and the smack.

“Again.”

You blinked, having not been sure if you had heard him correctly or if he had even spoken or if you had imagined it all. And evidently you weren’t functioning fast enough for Lalo’s liking.

The older man broke into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he stared you down, “Okay, how about I put on his shirt and we play pretend-“

Smack.

You hit him again.

He smiled a little wider, “There she goes c’mon.” He goaded you.

So you did.

Smack.

Then it was like a dam broke. You started beating on him. You jabbed and punched and shoved and slapped his chest, and arms, and stomach. You hit him like your life depended on it. You hit him until your arms hurt more than your heart.

And the entire time, he didn’t move an inch; the man was sturdy enough that you weren’t doing any real damage to him. Even when four men he had called walked into the apartment and began breaking the body down, he didn’t say a word. He shot them a look that was more terrifying than a loaded gun to the balls, but that was it. He let you have your moment. And it was likely for the best- watching a man get sawed into pieces and bagged up was not an easy sight to behold.

It was only when he decided the men were taking too long that he slowly retrieved his gun from the back of his jeans and calmly pointed it at them without taking his eyes off you. They scampered out within minutes; just a drying puddle of blood left behind.

You didn’t even know how you were still moving your arms anymore. It was pure adrenaline fuelling you. Slowly your mind began to go hazy and dim…the extreme emotions slowly leaving you.

Then, you felt your arms stop responding as your wrists were restrained. You blinked and looked up from where you had been targeting, and were met with those onyx eyes.

They were locked on you- following your every twitch and move.

“Enough.”

His voice was a rumble that made your head light.

There was no smile on Lalo’s face, no mirth. He was focused and you couldn’t bring yourself to even breathe properly lest it make you move too much. A drop of dread fell from the base of your skull down to your toes and settled into the soles of your feet. You felt cold.

Then, the older man took a single step forward that made you stumble a little but you only looked away from him for a moment as you recovered. He took another, propelling you with him as he backed you against the wall between your livingroom and your kitchen. Your skin suddenly felt far too warm, and it tingled like pins and needles.

Lalo weighed your soul; his heavy gaze had you in shackles and you were helpless to try and get away from it. You had yet to see this amount of intensity from the man, and you were certain that he was preparing to end you. That he would take that pistol back out and fire a new hole into your head.

But the longer you stood there, the calmer you got- much to your surprise. You were still on edge, but your breathing came easier, and you let your gaze flick between his eyes, to the lines on his face, to his brows, his moustache, and that grey streak. Lalo pressed against you and the wall dug into your back but still you didn’t move. You let him invade your space and breathe your air, in fact you almost found yourself drawing him a little closer; pulling the wrists he held towards yourself. And to your surprise, you felt him push back, making your chest tight with how much pressure was on it with his weight. You could feel his breathing against you; every inhale and exhale.

His scent intoxicated you, as did his warmth. It made you forget how afraid you were, and lulled you. You could feel your heart just about beat out of your chest. However despite your sense of calm, you wouldn’t help but feel as if he was just a very cunning predatory making sure his prey wasn’t afraid before he pounced; making sure the meat wasn’t spoiled.

But then, a charming smile took over his face, and just like that, it was as if nothing had happened.

“Look what a mess you are! Let’s get you all cleaned, eh?” He chirped and stepped away from you.

You had jumped when he spoke, and felt yourself cool down almost instantly. Perhaps it was something akin to Stockholm syndrome but you felt yourself missing his chest crushing yours.

“Remind me to not get on your bad side,” he said in a jaunty laugh, “Man, you sure know how to knock a guy around. Damn.” Lalo touched his chest where you had been hitting, but didn’t stop smiling. His hands left you, and he began navigating through your apartment easily, like he had been there before. The older man hummed an old tune as he entered your washroom, and began looking through the cupboards; you were about to wonder what he was doing as your brain played catch-up, but you remembered him saying he was going to clean you up…whatever that meant.

Everything still felt so surreal to you. You stared down at your hands, and the flecks of blood there, wondering if any of it had even happened or if you were having a dream. It wasn’t until you blinked a few times and focused on breathing that you remembered that you were still in your less then modest sleep clothes. You looked around for something to cover yourself a little better, but you missed your opportunity when Lalo came striding back to you, perfectly comfortable in the space like it was a Sunday afternoon in his own home.

“Okaay…” he said to himself as he put down the supplies he had grabbed. Just as you looked at the materials, he wordlessly hoisted you up onto your kitchen counter. You gasped a little, but he seemed unbothered as he ignored your squirming and stood between your knees. You watched his large hand grab a wetted cloth and start wiping away at your skin; you were covered in blood and sweat. The older man cleaned you carefully and meticulously; he tutted the split skin and the harsh bruises forming, shaking his head at particularly bad ones. He gave you a scolding look when you nervously held your shirt down when he tried to lift it to inspect your ribs- tilting his head and pursing his mouth as if to chastise you.

So you let him. He was gentlemanly enough to only raise it to look at your torso…making sure nothing was broken. Lucky for you, nothing was. Bruised, yes, but not broken. Regardless of your luck, you forced yourself to ignore how warm his calloused hands were when they pressed down on your ribs. Oddly gentle. Comforting.

Once he deemed you clean enough, Lalo began dragging cotton pads soaked in peroxide over your cuts; he shushed you when the chemical stung too much.

Everything seemed so calm. There was no screaming, no sirens or things being thrown. It was late…and it was quiet. It was just you and him in your small kitchen; it was as if he had blocked out what you had done just a half hour earlier- beating and shoving at him like he was a punching bag.

You found yourself watching him carefully, half expecting him to break the act and snap your ankle as he inspected it, or spit in your face and hold a gun to your temple. But he didn’t even show a slight sign of ill intent. He just continued to bandage you.

There was no doubt in you that you were in deep debt to the Salamancas now. And while you were fairly naive to it, you knew that such a thing was practically a death sentence. Lalo had killed for you whether you wanted him to or not. He had saved you. There was no coming back from that.

Regardless of the weight settling on your shoulders, there was a calmness you felt as his warmth radiated into you from standing so close to you. You could feel his breath on your skin and all you could smell was him; smoke and some kind of spice, and a little tequila or whiskey. It was in his clothes and his skin. Everywhere. His touch was like a brand- scorching your skin.

There was a gash on your arm from where your ex had come at you with a knife; Lalo cleaned the blood away, and pressed down to see how deep it was. You jerked at the pain, but he tsked you and his large hand gripped you tighter, “Ah ah, hold still.” He murmured.

Your eyes flickered over his face, and you worried the inside of your lip, “S-sorry.” You said softly.

A simple but not altogether peaceful silence filled the space as another few minutes passed as he wrapped your arm. The only noise that ended it was the phone in his pocket ringing. You jumped at the sound, while Lalo merely blinked and pulled the device out and held it to his ear as he checked over your face.

The older man brought a hand up to your chin, and tilted your head side to side while inspecting you. You let him, moving your head as he wished.

“Buen.” He rumbled, and you held his gaze, intimidating as it was. Then, he pulled the phone away and snapped it shut before slipping it back into his pocket.

Lalo squinted at a mark on your cheek, and grabbed the cloth again to wipe it.

“Moron beat the shit outta you…” he remarked almost to himself.

You nodded, and smiled a tiny bitter smile as he signed and tossed the closed into the sink; wrappers from bandages and blots of blood on the counter.

“I used to love him…” you whispered, “Turned out to be a real piece of work…” you smiled again, just briefly, in spite of the pain and shock, “He hated life…and life hated him back…” you were just rambling and thinking out loud, but Lalo listened. Perhaps you were boring him a little, but he was curious about exactly who he was dealing with.

You remembered something then, “Did you know he hated Mexican food? Claimed paprika was spicy.”

Lalo gasped and widened his eyes comically. “No! Estoy jodidamente contento de que esté muerto entonces…” he shook his head.

You snorted and laughed dryly, nodding your head.

Then, after a moment, you looked over at the drying blood on the floor. You flinched at the memory of him forcing his way into your home…how horrifying it was to see him so suddenly. But the longer you looked, the less you felt. In you peripheral, you could see Lalo crumpling the bandage wrappers in his hand.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

Lalo looked up at you then, and followed your gaze, but you spoke again before he could reply.

“I-…I think I would have done the same, you know.”

This made him pause for a moment.

“If I- if I found someone threatening you or Hector…and I had a gun…I would have done the same.” You knew they weren’t the words of a completely sane person but you said them anyways.

Lalo laughed, “Big talk for a mouse!” He smiled wolfishly.

You stared back at him. “I mean it.”

You realized that you really did mean it. You knew that somehow you were so far gone that you would let blood get on your hands for them. But somehow that didn’t scare you.

The older man shifted and leaned forward between your knees again- bracing himself on his hands as he placed them on either side of you. He was invading your space again, but you held firm. There was no room left in you for fear. You were exhausted and aching.

“You trying to tell me little ratoncito would kill for a Salamanca?” He had an amused smile on his face, but you noted his emotionless eyes- like he was daring you to take back what you said.

A part of you was telling you to- to say you didn’t mean it and tell him you wouldn’t tell anyone what had transpired there that night. But that part of you was stupid, and you were not stupid. Not that stupid. You knew that was a one way ticket to an early grave, so you nodded your weary head.

“Don’t know how good of a shot I am but it’s the thought that counts right?” Your mouth quirked up a little at your horrible joke. You supposed it was a stress reaction to cope.

And Lalo laughed. A single bark of a laugh. “I am so glad you’re funny ninita.” He wagged his finger at you. His face had been so firm as you explained yourself, that now seeing him smile set you a little at ease. The older man pulled away from breathing your air and walked to the sink to wash his hands,“Now what are we going to do about this?” He asked casually.

His question was simple, but it made your heart thump hard. “About?” You asked.

Lalo looked brightly at you as he dried his hands. “You want to say thank you to me, sì?”

You stared at him and you knew there was only one answer. “Of course.” You said.

Lalo smiled. “Esa es mi chica.”

He grabbed one of the two chairs from your small table, and turned it around for him to sit. He spread his knees and leaned forward onto them as he weighed your existence with those brown eyes of his. There was only the faint tapping of water dripping from the faucet as Lalo regarded you- still sat on your kitchen counter. Bruised and battered. Alive thanks to him.

“That cute stunt you pulled at Los Pollos Hermanos…can you do it again?” He asked, lacing his fingers together in front of him. The picture of ease and calm.

“Yes.” You didn’t miss a beat. You had come to terms with the fact that you would do what you did again if need be a while ago.

“Bigger?” He asked.

Your stomach twisted a little. The idea made you nervous, but you knew you could do it.

“Yes.” You answered.

Lalo smiled again and wagged a finger at you. “Ratoncito loco, lo juro...”

You didn’t return the smile, but your face softened. “I’ve been called worse.” You mused, then looked back down at your hand and the blue bruises turning to purple.

The older man didn’t say anything, but he watched you while you fiddled with a bandage and absentmindedly swung your feet slightly.

He looked at you properly in the dim light of your simple apartment. You weren’t frail per se, but you had a certain exhaustion to you that scratched an itch in Lalo’s mind. A tiredness of the world you knew, of the people around you, of who you had become. Yet in spite of that, there was a firecracker inside you waiting to burst into flame; you had a bite to you, even if it was small. Lalo could work with that.

The blood wasn’t as difficult to get out of your floor as you thought it would be.

Your landlady thankfully didn’t put up too much of an argument when you told her you were leaving and breaking your tenancy. You had a feeling it wasn’t just her being nice.

The motel room you were now living out of wasn’t horrible. The extra couple hundreds Lalo had given you when he told you where to stay helped too. Sure the commute to work was a little longer but it wasn’t like you had a choice.

Your eyes were a little more glazed over at work now. You wondered how much longer you would be there. That night, Lalo had given you a date and time and location for your repayment, and now you were counting down the days. It was only a few, but time seemed to pass so quickly and so slowly simultaneously.

Your instructions were fairly simple, in theory. Make the buildings power short circuit if Lalo didn’t call you by 11:42pm. Following that and your escape, you were to go to new motel, and lay low for a few days until you got more instructions.

That or you assumed someone would show up to clean you up as a lose end.

He didn’t tell you why he give you such a specific time, but you assumed there was some kind of shift change over for security at 11:45pm, and wanted those three minutes to carry out some kind of plan B.

Which was why your knee bounced as you see as t in your car across from some massive laundry facility. As you waited, you scanned over the blueprints to the building that you had managed to get from city hall. Evidently a forced smile had been enough to get the clerk to hand it over, and a pouty lip and claiming to be a stressed collage student with a paper due to let you take it home. Once upon a time you would have wanted to wretch at the thought of having done that, but somehow you found yourself…indifferent. Like a part of your anxiety died that night with your ex.

The service road was dim, and your pulse was working double time.

You checked your watch. It read 11:25pm.

A part of you wondered exactly what was set to happen inside that building, but you assumed it could mean your death if you asked. Somewhere in your gut you knew it was an attempt to destroy that man from Los Pollos…it couldn’t be a coincidence that Lalo had asked you to do exactly what you had done again for someone else when he had been so pleased with seeing that restaurant crumble.

So you gathered what you needed and shoved it into a small pouch, said a prayer, and got out of your car. You knew it was a 50/50 chance of Lalo calling you to stop you, but you needed to be ready. If you were only halfway there when he called it might be a big enough mistake that would cost him his life.

It was a fairly quick trip to the building, albeit a stressful one. The fence surrounding the warehouse was thankfully not electrified, though it was still very uncomfortable to scale. A day previously you had managed to find a low point that would be easier to get back over when you were escaping too.

As you waiter for the rotation of guards to get to their blind point, you leapt up and rolled yourself over the top of the metal fence, landing with a fairly ungrateful thud and a cloud of dust that was thankfully covered by the darkness.

You crouched low, and held onto the strap of your pouch. There were men everywhere watching, but you were small and unassuming in the shadows. You hoped you could channel that inner mouse that Lalo claimed you had, though it was a long shot. With another breath, you pulled your medical mask up over your face’s lower half as you sped from one shadow to another. It was an odd atmosphere there- you felt as if you were walking into Area 51. It was deserted and eerie aside from the security. You might have not been to a laundry processing warehouse before but you sure as shit were certain that this level of security was odd.

You clung to the side of the building; your heart in your ears. Time was on your side for once, as you checked your watch again, and noted that you still had 7 minutes before you potentially had to clip and cross and overload the building’s wiring. Perhaps you spoke a little soon though as you had begun to go a little too fast towards the back of the building and missed getting spotted by a man by a centimetre. The toes of your shoes stuck out of the thin shadow that concealed you, but evidently they weren’t enough to draw the attention of the guard. You thanked god for the emergency ladder beside you for partially hiding you too.

You found the back entrance and worked your way along to find the main control panel. Shadows moved out of the corner of your eye, making your mind play tricks on you, and you felt chills run up and down your spine; then you found it. The panel came into view, and you checked the area around you once more as you opened your bag. There were three thick locks over the latches that opened the door, and you sighed as you looked at them. Your metal tools felt very cold in your hands.

There was no going back now.

You slipped your picking tools inside the first lock, began pressuring the mechanisms inside of the lock. You were still rusty, but your life was on the line, so you didn’t have room for a botched job. After a few minutes, you felt the device click and pop open- relief filled you. It was short lived though when you remembered that you had a maximum of 5 minutes before the next rotation of guards began their way to you.

The thought of getting caught made your hands shake, but not as much as the thought of the Salamancas coming after you. You worked at the next lock and focused on sleeping in a dry motel that night instead of your body being tossed into a shallow grave or left in the desert like some insignificant roadkill.

The second lock popped open after a few moments, and you checked your watch.

11:40pm.

As the time grew closer to when you might need to blow this building's circuits, you felt an odd clarity come over you- tinkering away at the last lock. You might have been in danger. You might have been caught up in a cartel. You might have been alone. You might have been a witness to a murder.

But you weren’t afraid. Disturbed by your possible fate, perhaps, but not afraid. You were exhausted of being afraid all the time.

The lock popped open, and you stared at it calmly.

You have a job to do.

The metal door opened with a screech, and you enhaled deeply when you saw the massive circuit-board and hundreds of fuses, and wires wrapped and bound together. You were certain your ex was calling you a hypocrite from his place Hell.

You checked your watch again.

11:42pm.

You sucked in another breath, and stared at your shaking hands like it might help to stop the tremors. It didn’t.

The silence was heavy around you, and you stood in it for another second before your little alarm went off.

"Okay..." You whispered to yourself. Your mask made your breath feel moist and hot. Your hands took purchase on your wire cutters and pliers, and you stared at some weak points. You wanted the fuses to blow on their own, so you started with flipping off and switches with wires connected that you wanted to clip or mess with. Lights shut off around you, but there was enough for you to see what you were doing as you reworked some of the wire positions, and clipped and tugged. Then once you were satisfied, you took a deep breath and turned every single switch on. For any building, it was t advised for every power-drawer to be on at once if unnecessary…for good reason. There was a low hum that began to emit from the panel. The tampered fuses and wiring forcing more and more strain on other areas so they would start tripping.

A spark startled you. Then another. Then another. You watched the entire panel start to malfunction. Then, there were shouts of panic around the building as a power grid shut off in the lot, which you took that as your cue to run.

With your pliers and white cutters in your bag, you shut the panel door and locked it back up in record time. Then, you faced the fence, and ran.

You didn't care that the lights were shutting down all around you. All you knew was you had instructions, and you were certainly going to follow them. You came to the edge of the front of the building and paused in the shadows as groups of men scattered around the dusty lot. Your heart was racing in your chest, but you could see your car just beyond the light, and you expected some kind of relief to wash over you but it didn’t come. Instead, there was a deep pit forming in your stomach.

Lalo hadnt called you.

Of course you hoped that it was simply because his plan went accordingly and having the cover of darkness and chaos was what he needed and...not that it was because he had been shot and bled out before he could call you. The idea that he might have met the fate that you had dreaded for yourself suddenly made you-

Ring ring ring

You froze.

The quiet ring tone made you scramble to answer your phone before it attracted attention. You pulled it from your jacket and wrenched your mask down to breathe when you saw the number.

His.

The same number he had put on a piece of paper for you a month ago.

A million and a half thoughts went through your head as you stared down at the little screen, but the only one you could focus on was the possibility that Lalo was in trouble. That he needed you.

You hit answer, and held the phone to your ear. "Hello?" You whispered, pressing yourself against the side of the building.

There was a strained breath on the other end. "You busy, princesita?"

You couldn’t breathe. He wasnt supposed to call you. That was never a part of any plan he told you.

"No." You managed to get out, eyes unfocused as you tried to remember the blueprints of the building.

"Mind giving me a hand?" He asked just as carefree as he always was, but you knew better. There was a tightness to his voice. He was hurt. Badly too, if he was calling you.

"Wh-where are you?" You asked, already searching for your flashlight in your bag as another few light grids shut off around you.

"You’re- mierda...You’re gonna come in through the main door, okay? Th-through the door with the window... At the end- ah...end of those washers and shit, theres gonna be a door behind one..." He coughed, and you heard him suck in a breath.

You nodded frantically to yourself as you recalled the drawing of the building. Seems that Chicken man was up bro more than just a restaurant. "Okay, okay I- I remember where that is. I’m coming just- just dont die!" You said in a rush.

"Klah! Me? Never." You heard him say, but you were already flipping the phone shut. Lights were flickering like mad as you began inching around to the front of the building, and your eyes began playing tricks on you as they strained to function in the changing a brightness.

To your luck, the front was almost devoid of security as they all ran to the back or inside. You heard radios going off and yells and orders being barked out, but somehow no one saw you.

You crept along the blue facility until you made it to the door. It sat open, and you didn’t waste any time as you slipped inside past the massive bins.

You were alone. For now.

You clicked on your flashlight and you were indeed surrounded by massive industrial washers. It was admittedly overwhelming, but you forced your brain to focus. You looked at each end of the main walkway of the processing room just as Lalo had told you to, and you noticed that a washer at one end was off kilter. You didn’t have time yo weigh the pros and cons of choosing to investigate it, but when you went to run, the sound of footsteps halted you. You clicked off your flashlight.

"The hell is going on in there- this shits supposed to be secure..." You heard a ma n say, and a grumble from another man. You looked around and ducked behind one of the washers; evidently just in time too as the men passed by you just several feet away.

“Where the hell is Mike?” One asked.

You let out a relieved breath when they didn’t turn around or stop to check on your heavy breathing, but it caught in your throat when you saw the guns in their belts glint in the little light. The very real situation that you had just ran into settled into your mind. That you were in the middle of a very messy cartel issue. Something that even Lalo hadn’t meant for you to get mixed in.

You waited until they left, and it grew quiet again before you flicked your light on again, and made a break for the washer. You hoped to god that you weren't too late in your search.

The amount of sound from your feet was too loud, but you didn’t dare stop. You hoped no one would care in the chaos you had created. The sound of other footsteps began to echo around you and you felt a weight on your chest like you were running from a loaded gun but you didn’t look back.

When you were just feet away, you saw the edge of a hidden door. You internally rejoiced, but it was short-lived when you remembered a man might be dying. You whipped around the corner of it, and followed the route of the stairs down. You didn’t have time to consider you might be going the wrong way, so you clamoured down as fast and quietly as you humanly could. Your feet were surprisingly soundless as you inched along the catwalks and flashed your light here and there along the scaffolding.

*What the hell is this place...*

Your heart was in your throat. You could smell dirt and machinery-

You stopped. A sound caught your ears, and you listened for it again. There- a wheeze.

"S-Señor Lalo?" You whispered, creeping down the steps, flashing your light across the expansive space.

You continued down, down, down until you were at the second to last flight of stairs when you jumped and almost fell back. Your flashlight caught a sight that chilled you.

"Eh…Hola niñita, fancy seeing you here!"

Just a couple feet down from you sat the very man who had called you. Your blood went cold when you saw Lalo laying there on the stairs with blood seeping out of his side and neck where he was pressing down.

"L-Lalo-" You whispered, rooted to the spot. Not even the sight of your ex shot dead had rendered you so motionless.

"Not to rush you princesa, but I’ve felt better." He forced out, glancing down at his side that was getting more saturated with blood by the second.

Your senses suddenly went into hyperdrive, and you almost jumped down the couple steps to crouch at his side. You placed your flashlight into the crook of your neck and held it there with your cheek as you pulled his hand from his jugular. A little relief filled you when you noted that the artery wasn’t hit and the bullet just skimmed him.

"Okay, you’re okay." You muttered to him, "Lets get you up."

You were so focused as you started positioning yourself for some leverage that you missed the fact that his eyes hadn't left you. Then he sighed and waved you off.

"Need...the camera..." He rumbled and pointed down.

You stared at him in confusion then followed his finger and held your light again to follow the beam.

Sure enough, 20 feet below you in the dirt was a camcorder.

You nodded silently, not even considering the possibility of arguing, and leapt over him before clamouring down the stairs. Your feet hit dirt and you looked around frantically for the device. The metal caught the light of your flashlight, and as you sped over to it, tried to ignore the various trails of blood in the soil. You grasped the camera and slipped it into your pouch along side your other supplies as you scaled the stairs, light jumping with every step.

As you came back to his side, you wordlessly gripped Lalo’s hand and elbow, and gingerly began to help him stand; you had expected him to wince or protest, but all you heard was him groan a little and wave you off like a fly.

"Shit shot..." He rumbled.

You looked at him as you ignored his gesture, and guided him up, "Wh-"

"Chicken Man he was a shit fucking shot...could’ve at least killed me. Now look at me…" He shook his head like he was more disappointed than distressed.

You huffed out a stressed laugh and looked back at him, then swore under your breath.

"What? I look that bad?" He joked.

You shook your head and moved your flashlight to your mouth and your pressed your free hand to his neck as it continued to gush. He was paler and paler by the second.

"Step." You muttered, again you ignored any of his attempts to be independent, and together you began your ascent up the narrow metal stairs.

His pace was determined and you briefly wondered if he was human as he seemed to ignore his wounds. Your steps fell into sync, and you were thankful for the silence between you as you tried to figure out what the hell you were going to do. As you reached the top of the stairs, you mentally began to map out the building in your head in relation to where you were. You couldn't just walk out the front door, and you couldn’t use the back exit either; no doubt there were men stationed at every exit…

You hesitated slightly just inside hidden door, and thought for a moment. You could hear voices outside, and footsteps...the place was crawling with people. With guns.

Your mind worked overtime and while you couldn't think of a perfect solution, you had one that would hopefuly end with the least amount of bullets in you. Without another thought, you flicked off your light and looked at Lalo as darkness engulfed you. Just like you, he didnt say a word. He knew you were thinking- keeping your word that you would effectively put yourself in harms way for him.

You stuck your head out briefly to see how clean the path was, and once you were satisfied, you sucked in a breath and looked back at the older man by your side. He nodded down at you as best he could and the two of you took a step out into the laundry facility.

You both crept along one of the washers, and glanced out at the room. A person came around the corner of one of the machines, flashlight in hand and you quickly moved the two of you back. Lalo hissed at the quick movement, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough. The footsteps came and went, as did a few others along with shouting. You chanced a glance out again, and this time, you went for it.

"Cmon." You whispered.

Lalo let you take his arm, and you guided him along the machines to a service hall where it was less exposed. You could hear people running , and tires screeching outside and orders being barked out, but all you could do was focus on letting your eyes adjust to the darkness and making sure you didn’t trip or take a wrong turn. Once you were halfway down the hall, a door opened at the other end, and you felt bile rise in your throat. You acted on instict and pressed Lalo into the nearest open door and held your breath. You couldn’t see him clearly, but you could feel Lalo’s warm chest rising and falling against you. You watched the flashlight of the person bob around out in the hall beyond the door and prayed that the person wouldn’t look in the doorway.

Your muscles seazed up as you waited and held your breath...then the person was gone. You breathed out and quickly grabbed the older man and began the last leg of the journey. You shouldered open the door at the end, and sure enough, there was an exit up to the roof. You looked around vaguly at the dark room and noted that there were no windows, and turned your light back on.

"You first Señor." You said and nodded to the ladder. Lalo stared at you, hard.

Then he nodded, and began hoisting himself up the ladder. You shone your light up for him to see where he was going and waited until he was at the top before following behind him quickly. At the top, you wrenched the small door open and almost fell out onto the roof. You looked around, and appreciated that there was a little light from neighbouring warehouses illuminating the outside. You whipped your head around and began looking for the ladder down like you had hid behind when you blew the fuze box. Sure enough, across the roof, you saw the first few steps and you nodded towards it for Lalo to see. The two of you took off and kept low. You could see cars exiting and entering the gate and you swore under your breath. So much for a clear path.

"How bad a shape are you in, Señor?" You muttered to him.

Lalo smiled out a hoarse laugh and scanned with you. "Should see the other guy.” He replied, and you looked over at him. He shot you a wink and you felt your eye twitch.

You sighed, and nodded and pointed to where you had managed to get over the fence, "Theres a low part in the fence there...we might get seen, but...I think we'll at least be able to get away." It looked so far away now, especially since you were on another part of the roof.

Lalo nodded and started towards the ladder before you could even check that the coast was clear.

You tried to halt him, "Wait-"

But he already took your hand and dragged you down with him over the rungs of the latter, almost completely foregoing them. You scrambled down after him, and landed beside him just in time for a flashlight to shine over the roof.

As you stood there together, you saw Lalo sway for a moment, then recover with steely eyes as if nothing had happened. You knew he wasn’t doing well, but you had a feeling he would die before he showed any sign of weakness…hell you were certain he would die with a smile on his face if he could.

The two of you stayed low for a moment as you scanned the lot, and it seemed as if you both came to the same conclusion: there was no way you could wait for a perfect moment.

“I’m ready when you are Señor.” You whispered almost reassuringly up to him, then glanced down at his neck that still had a stream of blood coming from it, albeit small. You still didn’t know how he was running around with two bullet wounds.

Lalo remained still for a second as another guard ran past the two of you, then reached into the back of his belt, under his jacket. He produced a gun- the same one you had seen him use that night when he…

“You know how to shoot one of these?” He asked as he pressed it into your palm. You stared down at it. It was heavier than you though it would be.

“I- I know the general idea.” You said, holding it in your hand.

Lalo pressed his hand back to his bleeding side and groaned slightly. “Two hands. One to aim one to steady, okay? Point and shoot. Easy.” He nodded when you had it right. “Vamos.” He rumbled, and began your break from the safety of the shadows.

Having the gun in your hand made you feel both vulnerable and dangerous simultaneously. You scanned as you ran, and just when you began to hope you didn’t have to fire the weapon, you saw a man round the corner of the building just behind you, and you stopped running without a second thought. You aimed, and you shot.

The gun’s recoil made you jump and you watched as the man fell and a spurt of blood came from his back as the bullet winged him.

You heard Lalo bark out a single laugh, “Mi niñita loca…a natural!”

Your ears were ringing. Your feet moved you toward him as you tore your eyes from the groaning man on the ground, and kept your steady pace towards the fence. It came quicker than you thought, though you gathered that the fact that you were still reeling from having just shot a man had something to do with it.

“You first Señor.” You rushed out as you both came to a stop; managing to turn the safety on the gun before stuffing the gun into your pouch.

Lalo didn’t argue, though he did fix you with an intense stare before he pulled himself up the bars with more ease than you thought possible, especially considering his injury. You wondered what it would take to slow him down…

He landed with a thud and a cloud of dust on the other side.

“Vamos, niñita.” He said, beckoning you over with both hands.

You nodded and sucked in a breath and jumped up to grab the top of the fence, and let the adrenaline do the rest of the work. You pulled yourself up and as you situated yourself to jump down, you felt something whizz past your head. Things went quiet and your ears rang. You whipped your head and looked behind you; sure enough, there where two men approaching you with their guns raised. You blinked, then you jumped. Lalos hands were on your waist to guide you down, but all you could see was his paling complexion.

Another few shots were fired, hitting the fence.

You brain kicked back into gear just enough to grab his hand and run to your car with Lalo. You wrench open the door the door for him then ran to the drivers side as another bullet was fired.

You pulled your keys out and forced your hands to cooperate for a moment as you started it up and hit the gas without hesitation. A few more shots were fired behind you, but you peeled out of there before they could do any damage.

It wasn’t until you had been driving for five minutes, taking twists and turns that would get you several speeding and hazardous driving tickets if you were caught, that you finally looked over at the man beside you. He was pressing against his neck and side, and you flickered your gaze over him.

“Y-you’re bleeding-“ you said. It was a dumb thing to say, but it was all you could get out. “I…I need to- we need to get you somewhere…I can’t- no no hospital…do you know anyone? I- I can probably stitch your neck but…”your voice cracked.

“You have to calm down, Jesus Christ… I’m the one dying here.” He rasped.

Your panicking self turned to him sharply and you made a split second decision. “You’re not going to die.”

You turned the car around far too harshly and sped off into the city. You needed more civilization. More people. Being alone would kill the both of you.

You drove to the motel you had booked ahead of time to lay low in after that night, and as you pulled to a stop outside, your hands began to shake uncontrollably. The breaths you took came shakily too.

You didn’t even see the rare look of pride on Lalo’s face- you had done good. He was impressed.

But all you could do was succumb to your adrenaline and panic as they mixed. “You lost so much blood…g-god I should have found you faster, I’m sorry…I gotta get you inside- I have a kit in the trunk, I-I can patch you up-“

You were cut off when Lalo reached over to you with his good arm, and gripped the back of your head and yanked you over the middle console and kissed you. Everything stopped. Your breathing, your words, your heart, your brain, time…everything. You could taste him as his warm tongue flicked against yours when you gasped. It was fast and hard, but you were left stunned as he pulled away. Lalo stared at you, and just as he had hoped, you reset.

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

“O-okay…” you whispered, eyes refocusing. “Let’s get you inside.” You were on auto pilot as you opened your door and grabbed the first aid kit from the back and the bag you had packed when you left your apartment almost a week ago. As you were about to cross over to the motel, you stopped Lalo quickly and began buttoning up his jacket for a little extra coverage of his bloodstains. Lalo regarded you calmly and carefully, a tiny grin pulling at his mouth.

“I loved this jacket…” he rumbled, regarding the stain forming, “Really comfortable, y’know?”

Once you were satisfied, you led him to the room you had booked, and took out the key they had given you two days ago.

You turned the key and swung the door open before helping the man in and sitting him down and kicking the door shut. You dumped your things down and crouched as you began unbuttoning his jacket. The red stain confronted you again when you pushed the fabric off his broad shoulders. You stared at it, then you heard him tut you.

“Se agradecería un poco de entusiasmo.” He was aloof, but his words were beginning to slur. He wasn’t doing well.

You jumped and snapped back to yourself as you began to frantically undo his dress-shirt.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” You muttered, though you weren’t sure if it was for him or for yourself.

His nice shirt came apart, all sticky from the blood, and you were faced with his soaked skin, and angry wound. Your head went light.

You remembered patching your ex up one night after a bar fight…but nothing that bad. It had been a cut from a pocket knife, not two bullet wounds.

There was no time for you to fall apart though. You were going to make this right even if it was the last thing you did.

You ran to the bathroom and filled the motel ice bucket with warm water and a glass with cold. When you came back, Lalo was forcing himself to stay awake- eyelids heavy. You grabbed every towel you could, and knelt at his feet again.

“Ey, there she is…” he rumbled.

You felt your lips pull into a nervous grin as if trying to see his humour.

“You’re gonna be okay…I’m- I’m gonna fix this-…” Your voice was unsteady though you tried your best to stay calm for him.

You dipped one of the towels into warm water and began dabbing away the blood by his side as best as you could; your stomach flipped at the sight of his torn flesh, but you weren’t about to pass out or back down.

“L-lay back, here.” You grabbed a few pillows and guided him to lay down, and as you went back to wiping his neck and side clean, you watched him try to say lucid. He did a profound job of keeping his breathing steady and you had a brief wonder of how many times he had been shot or worse. You brought a towel to his side and pressed down. Then you felt a surge of panic when you realized you hadn’t given him anything for the pain. “Shit! I’m- I’m sorry you- I didn’t give you anything.” You wrenched the kit open and shakily looked for anything that might help him. You found a small bottle of Tylenol, and though you weren’t certain how effective it would be, you grabbed two and the clean glass of water.

“Open.” You forced out, and placed the pills on his tongue and held the glass to his lips. Your hands shook and you spilled a little, but you focused on remaining calm.

You set the water down once he swallowed and took another towel, then went to his neck where you wiped more blood away. It was just a gash, but needed stitches. You felt your heart beat in your throat, and you wanted so badly to break down, but you couldn’t. You rifled through the kit and found the sutures, a new needle pack and the holder and forceps, and set them on the bed. You wiped the area again, and took a shuttered breath.

“Hey…”

You felt tears well in your eyes.

“Niñita.” Came his voice again.

You blinked and grabbed the needle pack and ripped it open with your teeth. The needle fell into your hand, and you took another breath.

“Y/n.”

You jumped and looked up. Lalo was staring right at you, eyelids heavy.

“You need to stay calm.” He rumbled, “Can’t let me get fucked up, sì?”

You sobbed out a laugh.

“You’re horrible.” You whispered, and sniffled.

“Everybody loves me.” He smiled dazed.

You took a few more breaths and thought of something that made you sober quickly. You thought of what Hector would have done to you if he found out you let his favourite nephew die.

With that in mind, you knelt beside him on the bed; you wiped and dried the wound on his neck again quickly, and pushed his flesh back together to start stitching

“Easy there tiger.” He groaned.

You sighed and brought the threaded needle to his skin, and you pushed in. The feeling of the needle going through his skin made your stomach churn.

His eye twitched, but he didn’t move as you slowly stitched him up. You hoped to god that you weren’t making this worse than it was already was, and thanked god that you had seen several medical shows on late night television years ago…

You finished the wound, and you sighed in relief as you tied a knot for the remaining thread. It wasn’t perfect, but the wound was holding together and he was barely bleeding anymore.

You cleaned the surrounding area one more time, and looked at your patient. He was staring at nothing, but he was awake. You wanted to stop and check on him, but you knew time was not something you had plenty of. With that in mind, you shuffled gingerly down the mattress to the other bullet hole, and cleaned away the entrance wound. There was no way you were going to try and remove a bullet. Certainly you had seen it done in movies but you were not about to do it to a man on deaths door, not when it meant it could cause him to bleed out. You replaced the towel that had become sodden with blood, and pressed down on the crisp white fabric. A warm blot of blood began to seep through and you felt your heart sink down into your ankles.

You were horrified that you had to sniffle a little, tears threatening to well up. You watched his face carefully; he was unbelievably strong willed. He practically refused to lose consciousness. His skin was pale and his eyes were heavy yet still he was awake and watching you from his propped up perch.

“I know a guy…” he rumbled. Suddenly.

You jumped and looked at him, surprised that he spoke. “Tell me how to reach him.” You said, already reaching for his jacket to find his phone.

“Second to last number…he’ll know who it is…” He might have been lacking blood, but Lalo still managed to sound just as confident and aloof as always.

You scrolled down and found the number, and pressed it without another thought. It rang twice before a man answered it.

“Where?” Came the voice.

You wanted to double check that he knew who you were calling for…but you had a feeling this man wasn’t just some guy who forgot who Lalo Salamanca was.

You gave him the address, simple and concise. He didn’t say thank you, or double check, and somehow you found that comforting. You snapped the phone shut, and placed it back in his pocket.

“He’s coming…it…its going to be okay…” you whispered. You wondered how many times that phone had been used to take a life with a simple order.

You looked down at the towel on his side, and lifted it gently to check the bleeding. It was still coming. You grabbed one of the spare pillows and wordlessly began unbuckling Lalo’s belt.

“I know you wanna help there princesita, but I don’t think right now is the best time for a bl-“

You ripped the belt from the loops and pressed the pillow to his side, making him groan and shut his mouth fast. It wasn’t perfect, but you managed to get the belt under his back and around his waist and over the pillow to fasten it to his side, tight. The pressure would help the bleeding better than your hands, and you leaned back once you got it tight enough.

You heart rate had slowed, and now seeing him a little more repaired, you looked at him properly. His eyes were closed, and it didn’t hit you for a moment that him being lax could be a horrible thing. Then your blood went cold.

You shot up out of your seat beside him and leaned over his chest.

"L...Lalo?" You whispered.

Nothing.

You feel lightheaded. You pressed your ear to his chest, and his heartbeat was faint. The tips of your fingers felt cold.

"Lalo!" Your voice broke, but again, there was no response.

Your eyes began to well with tears, and you broke.

"You motherfucker I'm neck deep in this shit, and I cant get myself out without you!" You cried out and slapped his thick chest.

You stared at his face for a moment, dread filling you.

Then, the corner of his mouth tugged.

“Awh, you mean it?” Came his low voice, his eyes still closed.

You felt your hands tingle as the urge to slap him filled you. It was like he could feel it. Lalo smirked slightly.

“C’mon I know you want to…what just because I’m half dead you’re going soft?” He goaded you.

You clenched your jaw and sighed. His mouth tugged again, though his eyes remained closed. Eventually his face went lax, and his breathing became even and slow. You called his name once more, but when he didn’t answer you gathered he was sleeping. You hoped against hope that the guy you had called would be there soon, but you supposed only time would tell.

In his dazed slumber, Lalo murmured a name or two…and you found yourself getting dizzy with sleep the longer you watched him.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but when you woke up, your head was down on the bed in your arms- just where you had been as you watched over him.

You looked up, and and stilled when you saw those large, glittering black eyes staring back at you, fully awake and very alive.

“Ahh she awakens.” He rasped.

You sat up and rubbed your head, taking him in.

He was sat, clean and reclined on the bed. There was a neat bandage over his side, and a smaller one over his neck, along with a couple brown bags where he kept reaching and eating from on the side table

“What…” you tried to say. You had expected to be awoken by the man knocking to get in the room, so how in the hell had he gotten in-

“Hm? Other guy took too long…called in a favour. Didn’t feel like dying yet.” He said as he pulled out a water from one of the bags for you. He dangled it in front of your face.

“I-oh…thank you.” You slowly took the water, and drank from it. You couldn’t remember when you last had water.

“Chicken man thinks he got me…we’ll stay here for a while…” Lalo rumbled.

You nodded, “I- I have the room booked for another two nights…um- I can see if I can get another one for you…if you want some priva-“

“Nah.” He dismissed you. But he said it with that easy grin of his as he looked at the shitty motel room service brochure. There was a warm silence to the room as you sat there with him. You sipped at your water, and slowly stood up, wincing at your back.

Lalo was flipping through one of the brochures of Albuquerque and chuckling every so often. Evidently he thought the touristic sights were amusing. It all seemed so surreal again, just like that night in your apartment as he patched you up.

Then, as you stood there in a daze, you. Suddenly realised how disgusting you felt. Blood and sweat and dirt was caked to you. You quietly went to the washroom and splashed some cold water on your face. You looked a mess. With Lalo more stable, you walked outside and grabbed the bag you had, and went back to the washroom to shower. You bagged up the clothes you had worn, and climbed inside the stall. The warm water washed over you, and you felt tears run down your face as the stress broke out of you. You sobbed quietly into your hand, and let the blood and dirt drain away.

It wasn’t long, but it was enough to help you settle back into your body.

Once you were finished, you dried your hair and put on some clean clothes; you forgot how wonderful it felt to be scrubbed clean. Your head felt a little light, but clear.

When you came out, Lalo was staring out the front window, and slipping a new, clean shirt onto one arm. You watched his back flex and the thick muscles ripple, and you were suddenly hit with the memory of of his lips pressing against yours in the car-

“You’re a little crazy, you know that?” He rumbled as he turned around, and begun buttoning his floral shirt.

You blinked and dragged your stare away from his chest.

“I’m- I’m sorry?” You asked, not fully understanding him. Was he referring to you running through firing bullets for him?

“You said you wished you had a family like the Salamancas. Anyone who says that must be crazy.” He smiled and said it with a laugh, but neither reached his eyes.

You didn’t smile, and didn’t move. Not even when he reached and grabbed his gun off the night stand as he stalked towards you.

“Said you’d take a bullet if you needed to…hm?” He taunted you, standing between you and the door.

You felt a drop of water you had missed run down the back of your neck.

“I haven’t achieved a lot in my life, Señor…but I like to think that I saved your life last night…and while I don’t think you’re a good person, I do know you have a lot of people who would miss you.” You looked from the barrel of the gun to his eyes, “You can shoot me, Señor Lalo…I did something good last night…and I can die with that on my consciousness. If I die with your family knowing I did something in their favour, I’ll be satisfied.” You swallowed and looked back at him. A sense of calm came over you, “Just…please make sure Hector is never seated beside Thomas Lee…they hate each other.” You added with a tiny smile at the memory of having to separate their wheelchairs more than once.

Lalo’s heavy gaze was locked on you, and your eyes flickered over him; his chest was rising and falling quickly. Very unlike the Lalo you knew. He was always so calm…eerily so.

“Come closer I don’t want to miss.” He rumbled.

You took the few steps that were between you, and stood at the edge of his outstretched arm, just an inch from the gun.

You raised your gaze to meet his, firm and ready to meet your end. But you saw something in Lalo that you had only seen once before- that night he had emptied a magazine into your ex- it was a hunger. A glimpse of an animal inside him.

You both stood there for a moment, barely blinking as you stared at one another. The air was thick and warm as the scorching sun heated everything under it outside. You watched his mouth twitch, and his glittering eyes flickered over your face as you remained still. He was thinking…fast.

You had proved yourself to him whether you meant to or not. Proved that you were willing and loyal. That you were quick and nurturing.

You were nuts.

And he liked that.

Then, Lalo brought his arm down and threw the gun onto the table behind him. The movement made you flinch slightly, but you still didn’t move. You weren’t about to be weak in front of him. You watched the older man take the two strides that separated you, and you felt his warm hands slip along your jaw to tilt your head back before you felt his lips on yours. They were warm, and he tasted of something sweet and smoky; his moustache tickled your lip, and you mewled softly into his mouth as you leaned up to move your lips with his urgent kiss. It was vicious, and messy. Lalo swept his tongue over your lips and you opened them without hesitation. A low hum rumbled in his chest, as he tasted you. You laid your hands on his chest, and he tore from your mouth for a moment to speak against your lips, still pecking and licking into your mouth.

“You want to be one of us? A little mouse of a Salamanca?” He rumbled, kissing you again.

You whimpered and nodded as best at you could, “Yes!”

He smirked against your lips and bit at your bottom one as he pulled you closer, “You’ll do what it takes?” Lalo began backing you up, and your legs hit the bed, making you fall back.

“Anything-“ you mumbled breathlessly as he descended upon you, his strong frame caged you in as he leaned down to kiss your jaw down to your neck where he bit and sucked ruthlessly.

“Again.” He rasped against your skin.

“Anything!” You whined, weaving your fingers into his greying hair.

“You’re mine you understand that?” Lalo pulled away and stared right at you; the sight of him so close, and his scent invading every one of your senses had your head go fuzzy. You were his.

“Y-yes papi.” You said without thinking as need took over you.

Lalo’s brow fell, and his face suddenly went serious- you felt worry prickle at you. But then he sat up and on his knees, and began unbuttoning his crisp shirt. “Say that again, Cariño.”

You stared at his fingers as his shirt came apart and you saw his bandage.

“Yes papi.” You repeated yourself.

He groaned satisfactorily deep in his chest, and slipped his shirt off his shoulders and leaned down to to grip the top of your skirt and dragged it down your legs, grinning at your panties. You bashfully went to close your knees but he smiled and tutted you, “No no no, mi princesita, open up for papi…a little more.” He ran a finger down your thigh and flicked it to make a point as you parted them.

He leaned back and reached down to run a finger down your covered slit and barked out an amused little playful laugh when he felt how soaked the material was, watching as the fabric clung to your lips.

“Dulce coñito…”he rumbled.

You may not have been fluent in Spanish, but you knew exactly what he said.

“All for me?” Lalo replaced his finger with his thumb and began rubbing up and down steadily, then stopping to circle around your clit.

You nodded, then he pressed down on your clit gently, and a whimper escaped you.

“Ooh I think she likes that.” He smiled wolfishly down at you. There was nothing you could do to hide your warming cheeks- you were practically glowing as he touched you. This man had just been bleeding on you on the verge of death, and here he was teasing you to near tears.

The man took in every twitch of your thighs, and gasp, storing every bit of information into that calculating brain of his. And you let him. You didn’t hide when you didn’t like something and certainly not when he was driving you crazy. He huffed in annoyance when he couldn’t feel all of your skin against him, and he nearly tore your shirt off of you, and bit and mouthed at the sports bra you had on.

Lalo leaned over you, and devoured your mouth as he finally slipped a long, thick finger inside you. You moaned into the kiss and he chuckled in return.

“Tan sensible, princesita…” he rumbled, and very slowly began to pump in and out of you; the movements matching the pace of his tongue licking into your mouth.

His other hand came up to the nape of your neck where he clenched his fist into your hair and stroked your neck with his thumb. You could feel yourself start to twitch and your muscles grew tighter as he patiently built your orgasm like he was entitled to it. Gently stroking your g-spot and teasing your sensitive clit as it swelled under the pad of his thumb. But then every time you felt yourself start to reach your climax, he would slow, and back off. You whined pitifully into his mouth and he hummed and chuckled.

“Tan impaciente, do I need to teach you manners?” He purred against your mouth.

You shook your head frantically and bit the inside of your lip.

He hummed again, and you felt the vibrations against you. “No…you’re a good girl, eh? Una niña tan buena para mí…” he kissed your temple, and the gesture made your head spin as you keened into his hand.

“Please…” you whispered, and melted when he kissed your nose, continuing his slow pace.

“Look at you…so domesticated like a little dog. Como una pequeña mascota…” he purred.

You blushed, and flicked your eyes away in shame…was he taunting you? Did he think so little of you?

“Ah ah…I like when you look at me, niñita…” he tutted you, and put pressure on your jaw with his thumb as he still cradled your head. You felt his finger pull from you and you suppressed a mewl.

“You’d kill for me. You’d kill for your papi hm?” He goaded you.

You never thought you would say yes to something like that…but you knew that when you fired his gun at that man, you were ready for the bullet to be fatal.

“Yes…” you murmured.

He smiled wolfishly down at you, “Estás loca, niñita.”

Lalo leaned up and away from you, and hissed for a moment. You sat up with him and followed his gaze down to the bandage on his side.

“Are you alright?” You asked quietly, reaching out to touch the area lightly. Lalo snatched your hand and brought it up to his mouth were he sucked one of your fingers into his mouth; your lips parted at the sensation, and with your body so on edge, it only added to the fire inside you.

Then he looked back down and scoffed. “Shit shot.”

You smiled a small smile, then leaned up onto your knees in front of him and watched him closely as you pressed a kiss to his chest. You could feel his heart beating under his skin, and you felt a strange privilege to feel it. You kissed him again, then followed a small trail down to where the bandage was. You looked up at him again; he was watching you intently, his breathing heavy as his thick chest heaved. You held his gaze, and dared to press a kiss right over his wound.

“Mierda…” he rumbled, then you were being wrenched from him and your back hit the bed again. Lalo was almost panting and he opened his belt and pulled it from its loops before throwing it onto the bed beside you. You could only watch as he worked his pants open, not taking his eyes off of you for a second.

You felt pinned to the spot under him, and you grew weak under his heavy, scorching gaze.

“Yours.” You whispered, and spread your legs wider for him. You didn’t know what drew you to say it…but there was a part of you that was so resigned to this man that you couldn’t even think coherently anymore.

Lalo didn’t even stutter his movements as he shucked his pants off. You stared up at him, partially appreciating that you weren’t the only one nude…but somehow you felt even more intimidated with him having nothing on. He was a strong, powerful man. There was no hiding it. A thick, strong chest and tummy, broad shoulders, thick thighs that you had seen pull at his trousers just like his arms strained his shirts.

You felt tiny.

But you didn’t have time to dwell on it as he descended on you. Lalo took each of your wrists in his hands, and pinned you there. You could feel the heavy weight of his cock lay on your stomach between you as he nestled between your thighs.

The tip leaked onto your tummy, and you squirmed against his hold on your wrists as you tried to touch him or hold onto him for dear life, but he kept you there- so vulnerable. Lalo transferred one of your wrists to his other hand and he use his free one to grope down your body, and return to your slick cunt; he slipped a finger inside you again, checking to see that you were still soaked, and he chuckled. You knew you were an even bigger mess than when he had initially teased you.

“Creo que estás goteando.” He chuckled and pulled away from you to glance down as he pulled his fingers from you- a thick line of slick between his fingers and he pulled them apart.

You flushed. Lalo hummed in satisfaction. He had you in the palm of his hand. Literally.

He took his wet hand and worked it over the tip of his cock, and you almost whined at the slick sound. You had gotten an eye-full of his cock when he had stood at the foot of the bed, and you knew he was massive. You could feel him pull his hips away from you as he moved the fat tip down to run it through your folds. Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, Lalo released your wrists and leaned back on his heels to watch himself rub the head over your clit then down the length of your slit, and back up. He rubbed it right over your sensitive bud and you bit your lip to keep from whining.

“C’mon ninita don’t be shy- I know the moustache is a bit much but I promise I’m a really nice guy.” He teased you, then surprised you by dipping the tip inside you. Just a little.

But it was enough to make you lose composure and moan pathetically.

“Ahh there she goes- see? Knew you’d warm up to me.” Lalo’s rough voice filled your ears and you moaned again when he slipped in a little further, one hand still gripping the base of his shaft and the other now on your hip in a bruising grip.

You stared up at him helplessly, hands weaved into the sheet below you.

“Precioso…” he purred almost to himself.

The endearment had you flush even more, and he started to catch onto the correlation. His face no longer held any amusement, but instead a ravenous focus sat handsomely in the deep lines of his skin.

He pulled the tip out again, then pushed in further until it popped inside you completely- a small bulge there at your entrance. Your breathing came heavily and you leaned up a little to watch.

Lalo pulled out of you again, then slipped inside you a little more…so slow and so patient. You felt as if you might melt into the bed or combust as he fucked himself into you, gently stretching you open to fit his girth. Your body welcomed him, albeit nervously as your muscles clenched every so often. But he would ease you with gentle coos and lean down to you to kiss your nose. “That’s it…there you go, princesita, you can take papi…all the way.”

You thought you might die when he was in far enough to stroke against your gspot. You could feel yourself tighten impossibly more around him, and he huffed out an amused laugh as your body threatened to force him out. Lalo pulled from your heat again, watching as your sensitive flesh clung to him, and the round bump that formed in your tummy where his cock was nestled inside you; then his gaze was on yours and he snapped his fingers to ensure your attention. You refocused your eyes and stared up at him.

“Eyes on me.” He murmured.

You nodded, and stared at his glittering black eyes as they bore into yours. Then, he began slipping himself back inside you…so slowly. You could already feel the extreme sensations starting to ripple through you, and as you watched the older man, it was like he knew even before you that you were on the precipice of your orgasm. You almost started to plead with him as he patiently eased the thick shaft into you, the weight of it dragging against every sensitive spot inside you until his hips met yours, and his thick tummy ground against your clit…and you saw stars.

“Cum on papi,cariño…” he purred, “Cum all over me.” He kissed your top lip.

And you let go.

An unrestrained whine tore from your throat as your legs shook and your cunt clenched down on him like a vice. Lalo could feel the sudden rush of your cum over his cock and he continued to grind into you as you rode it out. You didn’t know when, but you felt his warm hands over yours; his fingers locked with yours. Your fingers dug into his knuckles, and your back arched up off the mattress as he patiently fucked you through your orgasm, shallowly pulling out then grinding back inside you.

You could barely hear or see. Everything was cloudy and ringing around you as the extreme pleasure ebbed away and your body went lax.

“There she is.” Lalo grinned, and kissed you. His tongue parted your lips and you wrenched your hands from his and wrapped them around his neck, but you flinched when you touched his bandage there.

Lalo hummed and put your arms back around his neck, “Rip them open ninita, c’mon.” He grinned down at you, and started thrusting into you. There was an obscene sound that came from between you thanks to your powerful orgasm and your cheeks warmed.

“Woah!” He smiled and pushed into you, humming at the feeling of your slick warmth hugging around him. Lalo sighed and leaned over you fullly now, bracing himself on his strong forearms. He sighed, and the air fanned over your face.

“Dios te sientes bien.” The older man purred, and kissed down your neck to your shoulder where he nipped at the skin as he increased his pace. Your body began to bounce under him.

Lalo slipped his hand back under the nape of your neck and held you still as he sucked at your skin and bit down possessively. You whimpered and squirmed but his iron grip held you there. As he slowly released you, he licked at your skin and kissed along your collar. His chest heaved against yours and he returned to your mouth and engulfed your lips again; you parted them without thinking now, and let his warm tongue stroke yours.

Then, he pulled away slowly and stared down at you scorchingly. “Open that pretty mouth.” He gasped.

You parted your lips, and Lalo spat onto your waiting tongue, then leaned back down and kissed you again, hard. You moaned down his throat and he groaned in return. A startling need for eachother had seeded itself in both of you.

He had you so distracted with his mouth that you barely noticed as he started rutting into you until his kiss slowed. Lalo hunkered over you, almost folding you in half and he stared hammering into you fast. There was nothing but the sound of his flesh plaping against yours in the warm motel room, and while you were sensitive, you didn’t want it to stop. In fact, you could feel your sensitive cunt start to tighten around him again, and you were helpless to stop it or even tell him, though he seemed very well aware as he grinned down at you.

“That’s it- that’s it.” He purred, and you let him use you as he needed. His soft tummy impacted your clit with each thrust and you could only babble with need. “I’m- I’m- la- f-f-fu- I’m-“ you couldn’t even get a word out at your second orgasm hit you like a train, and Lalo chuckled low in his chest as he felt you cum for him.

You gripped around him tight, and Lalo groaned low at the sensation. He thrusted a few more times, each one more sloppy and harder than the last until he pushed into you all the way, squishing his tip up against your cervix and let his weight down onto you as he came deep inside you. You rolled your hips with him as he slowed his pace and ground against you. Lalo hummed and panted into your neck, and you held him tight against your body as his thick cum filled you up. You could feel your tummy warm up as he emptied into you, rope after hot rope he coated your insides until some of the sticky liquid leaked out the sides where his cock plugged you.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you were terrified that he might have ripped his stitches, but in that moment you didn’t dare say a word. You knew he’d wave you off.

The older man slowly stilled, and stayed inside you comfortably. His heat was comforting, and you clung to his back and stroked his hair gently. Lalo very slowly leaned up off of you, kissing along your collar to your cheeks, and rolled to the side so he wouldn’t crush you. Then, he shuffled something over to you, and lifted your butt up. It was a pillow.

When you looked at him as he raised your hips up, he only sent you a wink.

You couldn’t form a sentence, so you just laid there for a moment before you felt his arm come around your head and pull you into his side. You curled in there, and rested your head on his chest. Your heart beat wracked your entire body- everything pulsed. You couldn’t move. And Lalo noticed how immobile you were.

“What? A mans never made you cum before?” He chuckled. But when you were silent, he looked at you properly. “No…really? That little prick never made a little thing like you cum?” He pushed and you wished the earth would swallow you up.

“No…” you managed to force out.

“God…we have a lot of catching up to do then!”

You stared at him in horror as your body was still recovering from what he had just done to you. And he laughed. “I’m joking- now come here and kiss me. I almost died yesterday y’know.”

You huffed, and leaned up to press a gentler kiss to his mouth. Then leaned back down. You couldn’t even hold your head up.

He kissed your hair, and ran his hand up and down your arm. “Mi pequeña loca.” Lalo purred.

“Mi viejo loco.” You mumbled, and Lalo sat up and away from you enough to look down at you.

You looked at him sheepishly.

“Mocosa.” He smiled, and you returned it.

Lalo enjoyed seeing you like that. Relaxed. Flushed. Sweaty. Fucked out, blissed out, swollen lipped, hair a mess. All for him.

He sighed after a moment, and smacked your hip. “I’m gonna eat you if we don’t get some fucking food.”

You nodded. “What do you have in mind? Fried chicken?” You quipped.

Lalo did a double take, and stared at you dead serious, then burst into laughter. “I knew you were funny.”

You smiled a little and toyed with a little hair on his arm. “How much longer are you going to be here…in Albuquerque?” You mumbled.

“Eh…we’ll stay here a little longer. Keep an eye on my tio…then after that? Think you deserve some real food.” He smiled.

Your brows furrowed and you pulled away to look at him.

“You said you’ve never been to Mexico right?” He said, tracking your eyes.

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Entonces está decidido...after that…I think we could use a Uh…mouth cleanser?” He squinted.

Your heart throbbed still his use of “we”.

“Pallet cleanser?” You offered and he snapped his finger and pointed at you. You smiled.

“Yes! That. Tired of this shit city…you know, I hear Germany is nice.” And he grinned.

He knew he had you.

He embodied the chaos you had grown used to, but portrayed it so calmly. He made you feel safe, and made that little girl you thought you had lost inside you sing. Whatever it was that the two of you shared, you were drawn to it like moths to a flame.

And you knew it.

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

[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

[sardonic-the-writer]

LALO SALAMANCA HEADCANONS ☆

• Lalo is a big thigh guy

• Girl, boy, thin, chubby, or litteraly anything else. Doesn't matter. He absolutely loves your thighs

• If you'd give him permission he'd one hundered percent constantly be laying his head on them—more often than not with a smug smirk on his face

• Come to think of it though he'd love most everything about you. Lalo might be a cold blooded cartel kingpin, but he's not someone that puts others down for no reason

• So if he says something about you, he means it

• Loves it when you mess with his hair. Probably encourages you to do it, humming lowly as you scratch your fingers against his scalp soothingly

• Caught you twirling his gray streak around your finger once and got the widest grin, finding it adorable

• "Ahh amor me vas a matar con tu encanto algun dia."

• If anyone were to ever ask Lalo the thing he loves in life the most, he'd hold up two fingers and immediately respond with "my car and my partner" without hesitating once

• Preferably both at the same time if he's honest. Ideally while turning his non-bouncing car into a bouncing car—if you know what I mean

• Yeah he's a little sleazy. But he'd do anything for you, only asking for your genuine feelings in return

[bananawafers]

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

[nanabrainrot]

Have you got any possessive Lalo headcanons?

BOOYYY DOO IIIII

Lalo Possessive Headcanons

warnings! misogynistic tones, inferred coerced marriage, and him being toxic <3

- this man is actually disgusting w/ how possessive he is.

- he actually rarely lets you out alone, maybe he’ll let you in the backyard alone but you CANNOT go in public without multiple chaperones

- buys u clothes but only clothes he thinks are cute on u; u haven’t been clothes shopping in ages but seem to always have a new outfit; you’re lucky he’s on the stylish side but he seems to prefer long, maxi dresses so you basically only wear that and a pair of little black wedges he loves

- his love language is physical touch and no he will not let you be not touching him at any moment you’re together. if it’s one of the rare occassions you get to meet anyone, he’s got his arm around you or toting you on his arm. You have to sit on his lap without argument or he’ll just make you sit in the car in silence until he’s done. Don’t even bother arguing.

- Your chaperones don’t make eye contact with you and never speak beyond grunts because of the short fuse Lalo has with you

- He has killed like probably 4 chaperones who he felt were eying you weird and definitely mutilated random people who looked at you so cute right

- you are always on business with him. he’s not leaving you home alone. he has to know where you are and he’d rather know you’re safe by having you locked away

- you got married like a month after knowing him because he was so absurdly obsessed and any man who tried to court you after you met him just randomly would be found dead and you knew he was going to continue unless you just gave up and married him

- but, sweetly, he did tattoo his ring on after you got married to show his commitment and devotion <3

- he expected you to also get tattoos dedicated to him. he’d brand you if it hurt less but it would probably hurt the dynamic so fine he won’t ugh.

tl;dr he’s possessive to a very unhealthy point. he’s very much a “women should be seen and not heard” man at heart and will only deal with submissive women. oh you aren’t? he’ll whip you into shape dw :) just be a good dolled up quiet wife at home and he’ll be the best worst husband ever <333

[night-ambit]

I'm up to no good lately

(I do this just for his tummy)

⬇️⬇️⬇️

[thesculptedflower]

Hermosa

You work late nights at a diner that’s located in a not so safe part of Albaquerque. You have a very special regular, who ends up being your saving grace from this sad part of your life.

Content warnings: Attempted abuse, attempted sexual abuse, swearing, violence, +18, MDNI

Tropes: Age gap, denied feelings, forced proximity, ’’who did this to you?’’

Part 1/? I've been away for so long I don't know if this goes anywhere anymore. My life is so messed right now, that I just thought that maybe writing would ease it up a bit. We'll see. I missed this. Will proofread later, so sorry for any typos.

*****************************************

You’re already handing the take-away cup over the counter, before your customer has even had a chance to order. He’s a regular, always comes fifteen minutes before closing, always orders a black coffee with a pinch of cinnamon. It suits him.

’’Am I that predictable?’’ He grins, his fingers brushing against yours as the cup leaves your hand. 

You feel a soft blush creep up your cheeks. ’’Mhmm.’’ You hum in response, taking the few coins he’s offering you. ’’ Or maybe you’re just my favourite customer.’’ You continue almost teasingly.

He lets out a playful chuckle and slips a generous tip to the breast pocket of your t-shirt. ’’That would make me the luckiest man in Albaquerque, hermosa.’’ 

You keep your eyes fixed on his deep brown ones and give him the sweetest smile. 

 The flirting has been going on for months. You’ve patiently been waiting for an invite to a date, or at least a phone number, but to no avail. You suppose it’s your age that’s holding him back. You being in your mid-twenties, and him being over his forties. Not that you’d mind, Lalo Salamanca has aged like a fine wine.

 He takes a seat at the bar, like he always does, and asks you about your day. Like he always does. The air is sweet from the cinnamon in his coffee. 

’’Nothing out of the ordinary, a few drunks and family feuds.’’ You tell him, leaning your elbows on the counter. ’’Oh, and an attempted robbery. Haven’t had one of those in a while.’’

Lalo’s eyebrows rise slightly, urging you to keep going about this robbery.

’’A young man, probably my age, poor thing was out of his mind with drugs. Didn’t even have a gun. I mean thank god he didn’t, but it was just sad. Probably just wanted to get some cash to buy his next fix.’’ You recollect the events of the day. 

’’You called the cops?’’ Lalo asks, stirring his coffee.

’’Didn’t need to, a few truck drivers managed to shoo him away. He did promise to come back with weapons and back up though, but I’m not putting much trust on that.’’ 

You begin to wipe down the counter, not feeling too worried about empty threats of young narcs. You’ve seen plenty in the years you’ve worked in this diner, and this one won’t be your last. 

’’I’d take it seriously, you never know what’s going on inside their heads.’’ 

Lalo’s suddenly very serious tone catches your attention. You turn to look at him and to your surprise he’s almost angry. Worried even.

You place a hand on top of his and smile softly. A very brave move, one you’ve not tried before. He stares your hand for a quick moment before lifting his eyes back up to yours. 

’’I’ll be fine. I do have a taser behind here.’’ You reassure him.

The diner clock rings as a sign of closing, pulling you out of the moment.

’’I’m going to have to kick you out now.’’ You tease, knowing full well that he’d rather stay in, even if just a moment longer.

’’Still won’t let me stay?’’ He tries to bargain, like he always does. Bit of the gleam has returned to his eyes.

You’re well aware of the cameras in here, and of the fact that my boss keeps a close eye on them. Can’t have any strange men in here alone with me.’’ You tell him, like you always do. 

You walk with him to the door and open it for him. He stops to place his hand on the small of your back. The sudden closeness takes you by a surprise, yet you still lean into his touch, ever so slightly.

’’I’m no stranger to you hermosa.’’ He almost purrs. ’’Stay safe, I’ll see you tomorrow.’’

You say your goodbyes, already missing the warmth of his hand on you. You lock the door and watch him walk through the parking lot to his car. He turns to look back at you before getting in. Like he always does. Usually he’s all smiles and winks, but tonight his eyes are filled with worry.

A shiver goes down your spine, and you try to shake away the nervousness the conversation about the robbery gave you. You turn off a few lights and put on some music to get through of the last cleaning tasks of the evening. 

You’re too far away from the entrance, and too immersed in your work and the music, that you don’t hear the window on the front door shatter. Or someone slowly cracking the door open and entering the diner. Only when they’re standing a few feet behind you, and you spot their reflection on the wet floor you were mopping, you realise the danger you’re in.

You have to think quickly. The bucket in front of you is full of extremely hot soapy water and your mop is in there. You swing the mop with everything you got, and hit the intruder in the face.

He screams in agony. ’’You fucking bitch!’’ The hot water burns the delicate skin on his face, leaving him confused and aimless. His gun goes off while he’s struggling to gain his sight back, but the bullet goes awry, and breaks one of the windows.

You try to seize the moment and run away from him, but he manages to grab you by your hair and yank you backwards to the slippery floor. 

You let out a cry when your back hits the floor, but you cannot stop now. You try to crawl away, towards the register where the taser is. Just a little too far.

You hear angry footsteps nearing you, so you try to get up, but the floor is too slippery from the water and soap. 

’’You’re going to wish you were dead before I’m done with you.’’

You recognise the voice from earlier. It’s the same young man who tried to rob you today. Of course it is. You try to turn to look at him, to plead with him, to tell him that he can take everything from the register, but he counters your movement by kicking you in the shoulder, keeping you on the floor. You let out a helpless sob, still trying to get to the counter. Your whole body is filled with panic and you can barely focus on anything else but to surviving.

’’Drop the gun cachorro.’’

Lalo.

You try to look up at him, but he motions you to stay down. He doesn’t even look at you, his eyes, and his gun, are fixed on the other man behind you.

’’This is none of your business grandpa.’’ The young man shouts, waving his gun between you and Lalo.

’’Oh this is very much my business. This is my favourite diner, would be a real shame if I had to paint the walls with your blood. And I’m not a very good painter.’’ 

You can hear the wicked grin in Lalo’s voice. And the anger in the young man’s breathing.

’’Be wise, and drop the gun. Nobody has to die tonight. You’ve already embarrassed yourself enough, leave with your life, while you still have the fucking chance.’’ Lalo barks it like an order.

’’This bitch owes me! She-’’

’’She doesn’t owe you shit! And I, am loosing my patience. If you’re not out of this building in five fucking seconds, you’re leaving in a bodybag.’’

Lalo emits dangerous energy around himself, and it finally feels like he got trough the man’s drugged haze. He scatters past you and Lalo, shouting profanities and promising revenge as he runs.

You flinch as Lalo lays a hand on your shoulder. ’’Está bien hermosa.’’ He speaks so softly.

You take a hold of both of his hands as he helps you up. His hands are all over you immediately, checking you for wounds. The initial shock is starting to wear off, and in it’s place you’re starting to feel anger. Disappointment. Towards yourself. 

You back off from him, taking in all the damage around the diner. ’’Fuck this shit.’’ You whisper, pulling out your phone. Lalo leans against the counter, watching you as you dial your boss’s number and call him. He too can hear the amount of yelling that’s being raided on your ear. 

’’Yeah, well maybe you should hire fucking men then, but they don’t get tips for you to steal!’’ You scream into the phone before hanging up on him. You’re about to storm out of the diner when Lalo stops you by your wrist. ’’What?!’’ You’re still shouting, but it doesn’t phase him.

’’Get in the car, I’m driving you home.’’ He says with a tone you cannot argue against. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. ’’Fine.’’

The drive to your apartment is quiet. You’re so angry at yourself, for being so weak, not being able to defend yourself from a junkie. How you had just boasted that you can take care of yourself, just to be proven very wrong in a matter of 30 fucking minutes. 

Lalo parks the car on the visitor spot of your building complex and gets out before you to open your door for you. You try to walk past him to get home, but he stops you once again.

’’Enough with the attitude.’’ 

You cannot believe the audacity. You open your mouth to fight back but he speaks over you.

’’You’re in shock, but do not let the anger get to you. You did everything you could. And you survived.’’ He’s raising his voice just a little, trying to get through your anger. You know he’s just worried and that he just saved your life, but you can’t stop the words from spilling from your mouth.

’’What do you care, you’re not my fucking boyfriend.’’ Your words are like venom to him.

’’Don’t I fucking know that!’’ 

Once more you open your mouth to fight back, but are left with nothing to say when his words register to you. You’re now both just angrily staring at each other, waiting for the other to make the next move. Fuck it, you think, and rush your body against his, your hands pulling him by his neck down to kiss you. Lalo doesn’t waste time wrapping his huge arms around your waist, desperately trying to pull you even closer to him. You begin to lead him towards your apartment and to your surprise, he follows. His eyes are so dark he seems like a different person, and you think that perhaps he is. How he was ready to kill a man for you, just like that.

You open the door to your apartment and pull him inside by his belt. He’s grinning just barely. He closes the door behind him, and pulls you back to him, his lips taking claim of yours. 

You’re trying to remove your shirt, when Lalo suddenly stops. He takes a deep breath and removes your hands from your shirt. 

’’I cannot do this to you.’’ He lets out a sigh and rubs his temples with his hand. 

You let out a sarcastic laughter. ’’What the fuck Lalo?’’ Your temper is rising all over again. The tension between the two of you is so tense it could be cut with a knife.

’’You flirt with me for months, and as much as I’ve enjoyed it, I’m starting to need a bit fucking more.’’ You begin to let out all those suppressed emotions you’ve been harbouring for him. 

’’And now, you almost kill a man for me, and then you let me kiss you, and lead you to my place, and on the last fucking minute you back out. You’re a fucking pussy.’’ You’re trying to hurt him. Playing nice hasn’t gotten you anywhere with him, so maybe this does. Or at least it’ll destroy anything and everything you might have had with him, so you can start moving on.

Lalo closes the distance between you, and takes a hold of your chin. Not too tight, but firm enough to keep you looking at him.

’’You just don’t get it querida.’’ He growls. ’’I’ve had my eye on you from the first time you served me a coffee in that pitiful diner. From the first fucking smile you gave me, I have been hooked on you.’’ 

Your eyes are tearing up from the sheer passion that’s being let out to the air around you. Everything is happening all at once.

’’You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve laid my eyes on, and I’ll be damned if something happens to you because of me.’’ 

He really is a dangerous man, you think. 

’’But dios mio, if I even think about you with anyone else,  I feel like ending people.’’ 

You try to struggle against his grip, but he towers over you, holding you steady.

’’I work in the cartel, I’ve murdered and tortured, both deserving and undeserving poor souls. I am not the man for you.’’ His eyes are dark but conflicted.

’’But so ain’t any other hijo de puta.’’

You can feel his grip loosen on you just a bit. You push his hand away from you, and land a nasty slap to his cheek. He bites his lower lip, but holds back from saying anything. He’s said enough, and he can only hope it makes you see him as he really is. So he too, can start moving on.

’’Get the fuck out of my apartment, I have work tomorrow.’’ You spit out almost hatefully. 

’’You’re not going back there.’’ He tries to command you.

’’Try to stop me, I fucking dare you.’’ You argue. Lalo holds his tongue. 

’’Fine, but I’ll be taking you home every fucking night you’re closing.’’ He leaves and slams the door shut before you can argue back. 

Only when you hear his car leave the parking lot, you dare to let yourself cry. You mourn the person you were just a few hours ago, and the ’’situationship’’ you had with your favourite late night regular. But you can’t ignore the burning feeling inside your chest that yearns for this newfound person. This criminal, who burns for you as much you burn for him. For the man who would kill for you, in a heartbeat. 

Would you kill for him too, if it meant killing the old you, to let a new, different you, in?

[sp00kygoddessxx]

 ♥Lost in Translation♥

The Salamanca mansion in Albuquerque was a place of power, secrets, and a world that operated in shadows and whispers. Amongst the intricacies of their lives, you, his beloved, found yourself in a unique situation. Lalo Salamanca, the charismatic and enigmatic drug lord, often spoke to you in Spanish, a language you were still learning and far from fluent in.

As you sat together in the opulent living room one evening, the soft glow of the chandeliers casting an intimate ambiance, Lalo leaned in closer, his eyes locking onto yours. He began to speak in rapid Spanish, his words flowing effortlessly.

"Mi amor, hoy fue un día largo y agotador," Lalo said, his voice filled with a mix of weariness and affection.

You furrowed your brow, struggling to grasp the meaning of his words. "Lalo, can you please repeat that in English?"

Lalo chuckled, his smile warm and indulgent. "Of course, mi amor. I said, 'My love, today was a long and exhausting day.'"

You nodded, grateful for the translation. Learning Spanish had been a slow and challenging process, but you were determined to become fluent, especially when it came to understanding Lalo.

As the evening continued, Lalo continued to switch between Spanish and English, sometimes forgetting that your grasp of the language was still a work in progress. He would share stories, express his emotions, and even tease you, all in Spanish.

"Mi cielo, eres mi razón de ser," Lalo whispered, his eyes filled with sincerity.

You blushed at the intensity in his gaze, but couldn't help but ask for clarification. "Lalo, what does that mean?"

Lalo leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he repeated the phrase, "My heaven, you are my reason for being."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the sentiment behind them not lost in translation. It was moments like these that made you appreciate the beauty of the Spanish language and the depth of Lalo's emotions.

As the night wore on, you and Lalo engaged in conversations that spanned a range of topics. He shared stories from his past, his experiences in the cartel, and his hopes and dreams for the future. Each word he spoke in Spanish was a glimpse into his world, and you listened attentively, doing your best to understand and respond.

At times, Lalo's animated gestures and expressive tone helped convey his meaning, even when the words were unfamiliar. His laughter was infectious, and you found yourself laughing along with him, even when you weren't entirely sure what had been said.

"Te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden expresar," Lalo said, his gaze never leaving yours.

You smiled, touched by the depth of his affection, even though you weren't entirely sure of the translation. "I love you more than words can express too, Lalo."

As the night drew to a close, Lalo wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. "Eres mi todo," he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness.

You nestled into his embrace, feeling a sense of contentment and love. "You're my everything too, Lalo."

Language barriers may have posed occasional challenges in your relationship, but they also added a layer of complexity and depth. The love you shared transcended words, and you knew that with time, you would become more fluent and better able to understand Lalo's world.

[bonkwosher]

Poly!Lacho x Reader When You First Met Headcanons

Inspired By: @asgardianangel03 1000%, if you like Lacho go to their account bc ahhhhhhh it's so fucking good (They have a whole story). I didn't see any other Lacho x Reader so I just had to make my own.

Contains: Mentions of the cartel, drunk people, heavy flirting, fluff, implied stalking (Lalo be silly like that)

Pairing: Eduardo "Lalo" Salamance x Reader x Ignacio "Nacho" Varga

A normal person would feel guilty even considering what these two found themselves doing. Nacho maybe felt a bit guilty, but Lalo? Hell no. Nacho wrote it off as protecting Lalo from himself, denying any feelings that may have swayed his decision, while Lalo might have grown to be a bit obsessive a bit quick (But hey, that's Lalo). They had followed you just to get another taste, addicted to the sight of you.

You weren't even theirs. You entered El Michoacáno once, Lalo looked up ready to ask Nacho to shoo you out. He froze, lips parting in pure shock from your radiance. Returning from a long day of job interviews dressed in a suit/dress, you just wanted something to eat. When you caught the eye of whatever drug dealer was talking with Nacho, Lalo actually felt scared.

"Ignacio," he spoke swiftly. Nacho had never heard Lalo call him his actual name at work, it was something they saved for when they were at home. Nacho looked up from the wad of cash in his hand & noticed the man eyeing you.

Nacho shooed you out saying they were closed & you somehow hadn't noticed the extremely suspicious activities. Later that night you ran into the couple again, you presumed by coincidence but far from that. It was a fancy restaurant & you were going out with an old friend. You noticed Nacho first, he was admiring you from their table & turned away as you saw him. Knowing he was caught he got up & walked up to your table.

"Hello, I don't know if you remember me but you walked into the business I own earlier today & I ushered you out quickly. We were... talking about franchising & I just had to apologize, can I buy you a drink?"

Lalo had heard how smoothly his partner introduced himself as he was walking up a bit behind Nacho. "Ignacio, I'm going to grab us some wine. Red or white?" He pretended he wasn't just here to see you up close. "You don't have to buy me anything, sir. It's honestly not a problem."

"You can buy me a drink," your friend flirted, eliciting a chuckle from Nacho. "I truly wish to pay you back, can you allow me that?" With a bit more resistance you finally caved, "Alright sure. Thank you..." You trailed off, hinting that you wanted a name. "Ignacio, Ignacio Varga." You gave him a sweet smile, "Y/N L/N, nice to meet you, Ignacio."

You & your friend ended up moving to Lalo & Nacho's table, your friend flirting with them much more than you had. It didn't matter, you were already in their sights. Lalo laid the flirting on hard while Nacho was more discreet, asking more personal questions rather than simply bluntly admiring you. Among the banter, a question slipped that would forever change your fate, "Why were you all dressed up when you showed up at El Michoacáno anyways?"

Within moments of your explanation ending Lalo offered you a job. His "personal assistant" he said. Helping him with his businesses that he runs in Albaquerque & scheduling his meetings. Nacho gave Lalo a deadpan look, pulling you close to the cartel business was the last thing he wanted.

Lalo at this point was basically shitfaced & responds with, "Ignacio, are you afraid I'll like them more than you?" as he dragged out both the first & last words. Your face went flush, you couldn't deny that both men were insanely attractive though getting between them was not ideal.

Later that night, Lalo clung to Nacho's shoulder as Nacho offered you a ride home, seeing as he was the only non-drunk person out of the four of you. Your friend called shotgun & Nacho didn't want to argue so they sat in the front while Lalo sat in the back with you. Your friend unabashedly flirted at this point making it easy for Nacho to explain that he would drop them off first due to their behavior.

Lalo on the other hand, pulled you into a hug immediately. His big arms wrapped around your midsection & pulled you close before he conked the fuck out. If you knew Lalo you'd know this was an insanely rare moment. Not only where he'd allow himself to get so drunk but to the point where he'd sleep near someone he barely knew. Dare I say you were the first to see this. Hearing Lalo snore, Nacho realized you were special to his boyfriend.

When Nacho pulled up to your house he had to reach into the back & pull Lalo's tight grip apart to set you free. You quietly thanked him, completely flustered. He walked you to your front door & looked back at his partner who was still conked the fuck up.

"Lalo really sees something in you, I would love to see you take that job."

"I'd love to talk more about it, you two seem wonderful."

You two exchanged numbers & Nacho wished you goodnight before rushing to his now waking-up boyfriend.

"Goodnight Ignacio!" He couldn't help but smile at your response.

[8choloko]

lalo headcanons

he isn't a dancer guy. but with 3 or 4 Modelos in his system, Lalo likes to do anything he wants, including dancing.

he even takes you out to dance.

when he was a teenager, lalo was a Cartel de Santa fan.

he definitly doesn't know how to apology. (bc of his household) but he tries to: with gifts.

so, suddenly you get a random gift box at your door, but its just Lalo trying to get you back.

in highschool lalo learned how to kiss with a "friend" of his.

but he already practiced with his hand, the mirror and a pillow. (he’s embarrassed about that, don’t tell anybody).

lalo isn’t a fan of masturbation, he prefers to fuck you. always.

“if i have someone to fuck with, why am i jerking off?” says lalo.

besides that he is the guy to give gifts to you 24/7, he likes to show his affection by cooking.

also, he adores physical touch.

he has a little bit of trouble showing love that way, tho.

he knows you are always in danger because of his job.

so that’s why he doesn’t spend that much time with you.

he’s making sure no one is gonna get mad at him and going to kill his date.

[unfixablebabyyy]

lol down w capitalism but...

lalo would get so fucking hard over you handling his money oof

like... tossing you a wad of cash rolled up tight with a neat little rubber band

asking you to count it for him

watching your hands- much smaller than his own- fumble with the bills, flipping through them

loving the way your lips part around the numbers as you silently count

watching your eyes go wide when you realize it's the most money you've ever seen in your life

and then him just being like "keep it" :) bc it's pocket change to him and he wants you to know it

[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.”

[sardonic-the-writer]

Can we get Lalo hcs for a sarcastic reader who jokes around a lot?

i enjoyed writing this more than i should. simply becuase you described me in that ask so it was pretty self indulgent heheh

•It's a change of pace that's for sure

•Lalo is used to being the ones with the jokes most of the time. I mean, it's not like being in the cartel really inspired a lot of people to run their mouth. And even he would admit, he had leeway with the way he spoke. Being a Salamanca and all

•But the first time he had the pleasure of crossing paths with you, he quickly came to see that you didn't really care who he was. Not even bothering to pay attention to Nachos exasperated looks before you were talking a mile a minute

•"Hey Nacho! What's that good smelling stuff? You get another cook? Don't tell me you fired the last one he had good tamales. Oh cool, nevermind. New guy! Funny mustache, man. Listen, the middle aged dad down the street called, he wants his look back."

•You spoke so quickly Lalo couldn't help but bark out a laugh, mirroring your brittle smile with a more genuine expression

•"I like this one Nachito!"

•You intrigued him. He wondered how his tio had delt with you and your motor mouth before the heart attack and all. Clearly differently than usual, or you'd already be in a ditch somewhere riddled with bullet holes

•It was like you had a certain aura that protected you really. Probably the confusion that came from your cheery and blunt demeanor to be honest but it was still a mystery to Lalo how you'd managed to say in the game so long nonetheless

•He'd also observed how well you and Nacho worked together. You talked enough for the both of you, being the one to fill the silence durring deals with sarcasm and cheesy jokes while Nacho somberly counted money. Though you were never afraid to not so discreetly flash the gun resting on your hip if someone got smart with either of you

•And from what he could tell you were a pretty damn good shot too

•Yeah. He planned on keeping you around with him for a while

[lukekirbyy]

this is all i'm listening to from now on