#better call saul imagine
Text
Salvador
|Better Call Saul|
Part I Part II
Word count: 17k
Lalo Salamanca x Fem!reader
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: (this story has smut but not in part 1), slow burn, age gap, mentions of past domestic violence/toxic relationship, manipulation, intimidation, pet names (niña, niñita, princesita, Cariño, Ratoncito) Spanish (have a translator ready),Lalo kinda comes with his own warnings,
Notes: this is dedicated to my dear friend @mandowifey who was a massive part of the creation of this…couldn’t have done it without you🤍
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Even with a world on fire, we often dare to place our faith in the hands of someone who we hope we are not naive to trust. It is perplexing just what desire and blind devotion will drive a person to do. Even in our wildest dreams we cannot imagine what our actions will bring us, or who.
It is a daring game of chicken, so to speak. Seeing who will break first- you or life. Who will bend. Who will be kinder. Who will show love.
Love in and of itself is a treacherous thing. It’s beauty when it is alive and blazing, and the sorrow it brings when it whithers and putrefies.
And you knew it all.
All too well.
There was something comforting in standing under the baking sun of the southern state of New Mexico. With just a suitcase that held a toothbrush, bandages, $3026.50 and a change of clothes, you felt like a little waif from a book published centuries ago. Malnourished, exhausted, nerves shot half way to hell, and bruises still healing. You hoped there was a childish charm to how you looked, but you knew that hope was silly; you resembled more of a drug addict than a stubborn child that wouldn’t come home for supper.
“-miss?”
The first half of whatever had just been asked of you was lost on you; after you had nearly frozen to the spot after exiting the airport, numerous strangers had stopped to ask if you were alright. You forced your eyes to refocus, and found that you were being spoken to by an older woman who looked half irritated and half perturbed. Despondency had that effect on people.
“…I’m- I’m sorry…what?” You managed. Perhaps the Albuquerque sun had begun to bake your brain.
The woman sighed. She was decidedly more irritated. “Christ, I just asked if you were taking this cab!” She said, nodding to the yellow vehicle that was just several feet from you.
You stared at her, then offered her a small smile and shook your head. “It’s all yours.”
There was an uncomfortable lightness to your voice as you fought to stay connected to your body and not float away to Mars. Even you knew it. You didn’t sound like you. Hell you didn’t even look like you.
The woman said something about you taking long enough to answer something simple, but if you were honest you were proud of yourself for even being able to answer her. Just 10 hours ago you had been unable to even form a sentence as your body was plagued with panic; frantically packing what you needed in the span of 5 and a half minutes while your boyfriend - now ex- had been on the phone in the other room. You could still hear the sound of him yelling your name as you jumped in your car and peeled down the street before he could hurt you anymore.
Your heart still hurt from how hard it had been beating.
The taxi pulled away and you watched it go. A warm breeze slipped up your legs, and once it brushed your finger tips, you felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped from a hundred feet above you with you as it’s sole target.
Your eyes stung.
Your fists clenched.
But you had no more tears. Not for him anyway.
You might morn the death of who you used to be…the bright young girl who had a sparkle in her eyes and had yet to see the devil. Your heart broke when you thought of her.
But there was no blood…no body…nothing left to even hint that she was there to begin with. And there was nothing you could do about it.
•Three months later•
“Mrs. Creaner, I know the water tastes funny but I told you- you can’t keep asking your granddaughter to smuggle in alcohol now hand it over.”
“This is supposed to be a free country…” she grumbled as she rooted around over her thigh in her wheel chair, and produced the flask.
You suppressed a smirk at her antics, and held out your hand.
“Ma’am your granddaughter is 7 years old.” You sighed, handing her a styrofoam cup as she begrudgingly handed you the little metal flask.
“Smarter than a lot of you in here too.” She folded her arms and slumped in her wheelchair, “If you’re going to take that from me at least do your job and take me to bingo.”
You nodded and took the handles of the chair and began to push.
The job opening at Casa Tranquila had been a godsend to you all those months ago. Living out of a cheap motel was not ideal, and working in a comfortable retirement care facility on the outskirts of Albuquerque was just what your nerves needed. It certainly came with its difficulties, namely mediating your emotions and avoiding getting your ass pinched, but it paid your bills and gave you a great sense of purpose. In some way it made you feel as if you actually had a family that cared about whether you woke up in the morning.
It was no dream job, but it was what you needed. It kept you occupied and kept the heavy sense of loneliness at bay.
“- we do have to move you. Hector come on now, it’s just like everyday.” Came the voice of one of the senior nurses, Ellie.
You glanced over your shoulder and watched as she wheeled a very displeased elder man in the same direction as you were walking Mrs. Creaner. With careful steps so as to not trip, you turned and cast the man a greeting glance.
“Good afternoon Hector.” You said simply but cheerfully, then nodded to your co-worker in acknowledgement.
The man’s permenant frown twitched.
Hector Salamanca was a fairly new addition to the home, having been emitted just two months after you had started. And if you were honest, he was disliked; staff and patients found him difficult to deal with- which you found unfair. It wasn’t his fault that he could only communicate via the tapping of a single finger, blinking and limited facial expressions. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t coherent too, you knew very well that whoever Hector was before his stroke, he was still very much present behind those greying brown eyes. Certainly he was a grumpy old man, but if you had been in his position you were certain you wouldn’t exactly be a peach.
If anyone took a moment to watch most of the residences, they’d see just how alive most of them were despite their aging bodies; Hector was no different. He had fellow patients who he disliked; enjoyed knocking various objects over to make nurses have to bend over; he had his specific things he liked and didn’t like.
He was still every bit a red blooded man.
And while you weren’t one to play favourites, he was probably the closest thing to it.
You liked that he didn’t hide himself away. He was brash and blunt in his ways- non-verbal or not. Then there was a loneliness in his life that reflected your own; kindred spirits in a way. It pained you to see it at an old age like his. He had very few visitors, aside from when he had initially been dropped off by two men who must have been identical twins. You knew he couldn’t be all bad, and knew that a great deal of his anger must have come from his lack of contact to what family he had, and his inability to communicate. He was only human.
Just as you had expected, Hector made no move to acknowledge that he had heard your greeting. As per residence policy, each client was called by their first name, but since the first day you met that man, you had noted that he seemed more displeased by the informality. He looked furious when he had been wheeled around that first day and introduced as Hector; corners of his mouth pulled tight and down to his chin, eyes wild, nose twitching. Irate.
Your suspicions were only reinforced when you “accidentally” called him Señor Salamanca; he had actually looked you in the eye. A rare occurrence.
With that level of pride, you pondered that he must have been respected or feared before being placed under your care…or simply had a massive ego. And if he wasn’t around for that much longer and was barely existing, you saw little issue with making him feel like his old self by addressing him more formally.
Hector didn’t like a lot of people. Didn’t tolerate them. But he liked you.
Plus you gave him the best jello flavours.
Once the senior nurse placed him in the spot she deemed appropriate, you watched her walk away before dipping your head down to his level, like you always did.
“Buenos días, Sr. Salamanca.” You said, and smiled when you saw his head twitch ever so slightly in your direction. And that smile only grew when you saw him tap his finger. You hoped it was his way of returning the greeting, either that or he wanted to tell you to shove said greeting where the sun don’t shine.
You hoped he was saying hello. You hadn’t accomplished a great deal in your short life, and you liked to think that making the grouch at work a little happy could be added to your list.
Your days looked very much the same. A nightmare would wake you up at 5am almost every morning, as much as you hated to admit it. You hated how small you felt. Visions of being back with him, under his thumb and living to please him with no favour returned…no love to feel. His voice in your head…his manipulations. You often awoke with your stomach in knots.
You could never get back to sleep after.
By the time the alarm you set sounded at 6am, you would be ready to leave your small apartment. Then it was a half hour drive to work. At Casa Tranquila, you would check in, bring your assigned patients their morning medication and start their routine. The same faces came and went, it was almost a blur some days. But you loved the blur. You needed it. Your mind had only started to heal once your days became blurs that bled into each other, and you were uncertain of what might happen if you changed that.
You pulled your keys from the ignition, and took a long breath deep into your chest. You felt an ache in your chest with how full your lungs were, and only released when you began to feel lightheaded.
Another day.
Having finished with the lunch duties, you took a moment to stretch your back in the nurse’s station before squaring your shoulders like you were tougher than you were. You began your rounds, checking on each elder during visiting hours, and went to enter the main seating area when you stopped short of the simple room.
Your feet ceased to move.
Your eyes went wide.
For the first time since you had met Hector Salamanca, there was someone sitting with him that wasn’t paid to.
A man, to be specific.
He was knelt down in front of Hector with his back to you, and spoke with an almost child-like glee to him. A ringing formed in your ears, and it took you a long minute to finally realize the ringing was not just in your ears at all; the crisp sound of a service bell rang out in the room, and as you stared, you came to find that the sound was coming from…Hector.
Indeed there was a small bell catching the sunlight on the arm of his chair right where his mobile finger usually sat.
You felt happiness fill you as the initial shock subsided. It was a mutual loneliness that had made you take interest in Hector to begin with, and you foolishly hoped that perhaps someone would cure your solitude like this man cured his.
You were staring.
Evidently too long as well, as another harsh ring snapped you out of whatever trance you had been in. Now, however, you could see Hector’s harsh gaze on you- his mouth twitching as he rung the bell again. Clearly having Hector not fully pay attention to him made the man pause whatever he had been discussing. He murmured something to the elder man, and Hector rang his bell again.
You told yourself to just keep walking. But you couldn’t.
The man sat before your patient seemed to catch on, and followed his gaze, which lead to him turning his head, and finally seeing you.
It was his eyes that struck you first.
They glittered like warm honey.
The man looked between you and Hector and murmured something to him, which was met with the usual verbal silence, then he muttered something else and it resulted in a ring. You hoped to God that meant something positive because you had just noticed yet another man standing who you had never seen before standing just a few feet behind the crouched man. He looked very much like some kind of body guard, rather than a friend or family; your heartbeat picked up and you began to wonder just who Hector was. Certainly you had thought he must have been the head of a family and perhaps a business owner, but there was something so militant about the way this man standing there was guarding them.
It couldn’t have been longer than 7 seconds since you had become rooted to the spot, but it certainly felt worlds longer. Once you realized you had frozen, you blinked and forced a polite smile onto your face as you continued your path.
“Buenos días, Sr. Salamanca.” You said as casually as you could, hoping your nerves didn’t seep through. You hoped you would be able to make it past the men without incident, and you thought you had…but then another ring struck your nerves. There was a pause followed by murmuring, which you didn’t understand but went something along the lines of:
“¿Me estás diciendo que te las arreglaste para que esta linda niña cuidara al tío? Creo que pronto tendré que retirarme y unirme a vosotros, ¿sí?” then another few rings followed by a laugh.
His laugh- the man with the glittering eyes.
You had no idea what he had said, but something about the way he said it made a warmth creep up the back of your neck, and spread to your cheeks at the sound-
Snap
You stopped.
Snap
You turned far more jerkily than you wanted, and to your horror, the man crouching was now staring back at you intently with that smile still on his face, albeit more curt. He held his hand out and beckoned you over with two fingers. You swallowed, but fought to keep your face pleasant. Visitors didn’t usually interact with staff unless they needed something, or it was time for them to go…and you hoped this was one of the two.
You came to stand a few feet from the men, wanting to remain respectful, “Hola gentlemen, it’s nice to see Sr. Salamanca having some visitors.” The professional grin on your face didn’t reach your eyes. You were too nervous for that.
“My tio was just talking about you.” He told you brightly, “Says you’ve been looking after him, hm?” The kneeling man seemed to have no issue with dominating a conversation; you chanced a glance at the bald man standing, but he barely reacted. Goosebumps sprang up on your arms when you looked back at Hector’s nephew; unfamiliar with the direct attention.
“Well I…it’s what I’m here for, Señor.” You managed. There was something about this man that made it difficult to look away. The way his dark hair was combed neatly, and how the stripe of grey on the crown of his head swept into a curl that barely stayed back; how his brown eyes looked black in the shadows, and how the deep lines on his face made his expressions so defined; how his smile stretched so charmingly; how when he stared at you it was like only the two of you existed.
He scared you.
And he could tell.
He wagged his finger at you, “Ahh a humble girl, eh? If my tio likes you that’s good enough for me, niña…but you know- this is perfect!” He smiled even wider as he spoke almost animatedly, but you noted how the smile failed to reach his eyes now. “‘Cause now I’ll know just who to come to if my tio needs anything.” The man’s smile fell to rest as he blinked up at you, speaking so casually, yet you couldn’t help but note the menacing undertone of his words. Your brain was working overtime as you tried to piece things together; all you could come up with was that you didn’t want to upset anyone or say the wrong thing. You were certain these men were not your ordinary visitors, and you didn’t want to find out anything beyond that.
“Consider me accountable, Señor.” You heard yourself say.
A moment passed, and you so desperately wanted to break the stare he gave you, but then it as if nothing had happened when his stellar grin returned. He barked out a laugh at you.
“Esta niña, lo juro...” he said to the man standing, then turned back to you, “Eduardo Salamanca, but you can call me Lalo.” He beamed. His smile was infectious and you found the corners of your mouth tugging up a little, despite your nerves.
Like a wolf lulling a lamb into false security.
There was something expectant in his gaze as he told you his name, and you assumed it was him waiting to know yours. Tit for tat. The theatrical, charming nature of him coupled with whatever made his smile resemble a predator’s made your stomach flip. He was both sides of a coin simultaneously, and you struggled to process it.
“Y/n…y/n l/n.” You replied to him. Lalo repeated your name a few times, rolling it around in his mouth. Your eyes felt glazed over as you listened to him; like he was hypnotizing you. You hadn’t even noticed how you were wringing your hands, nor how you hadn’t torn your gaze from his.
Lalo patted his uncle’s arm after a moment, “You said no one’s visited my Tio?” His face turned inquisitive and concerned, though almost cartoonish. Like there was a joke you were missing.
You shook your head as you snapped back to your body. Somehow your anxiety was starting to fade, and you chalked it up to having a name to put to his face- it made him feel more human to you, “No. I- I almost started to wonder if- if he had family, Señor Lalo.”
He nodded, which caused the curl of grey in his hair to finally fall over his forehead. Your eyes instantly latched onto it.
He was handsome.
Then faster than lightning, Lalo turned and shot a look to the man standing, then nodded his head understandingly. Almost as if to check with the man to see if what you said was true.
“That will change…you know, you should see us Salamancas- we breed like rats.” He said proudly, and chuckled.
He had a nice voice. Rough and low with an easiness to it.
You felt your cheeks warm at his statement, then nodded and remembered to blink. “Well…I’m happy to hear that- that people will come t-to see him that is.” You murmured, stumbling to correct yourself.
You watched his smile pull into a boyish smirk and you looked down to wipe away a nonexistent fluff from your uniform.
“I promise, you’ll have to smoke me and Nacho outta here. I’m looking after the family business so you’ll see lots of us.” He laughed, and nodded to the man behind him.
You looked at the other man, and smiled a little as if to aknowledge his presence. The stare he gave back to you was…bordering on sympathetic. Not what you expected.
You suddenly felt as if you were bordering on something you shouldn’t, despite your softness for the elder Salamanca.
You decided to trust your intuition.
“Well…I don’t want to intrude on your visit anymore. I’ll leave you gentlemen to it…Sr.Salamanca’s nurse should be by to take him in a little while.” You gave both men a small smile and nodded to Hector, who frowned deeper at the mention of his caregiver.
Lalo seemed to notice the change, and his smile dropped a little in curiosity. You sighed, and came a little closer to Lalo so no one would hear, “Sr.Salamanca doesn’t like her…and between you and me I think he’ll be even more Uh…vocal about it with this beautiful bell.”
Lalo’s eyes went comically wide, but the smile tugging under his moustache betrayed him. He was ecstatic. “Really? Will that be an issue?”
You noticed he didn’t clarify if he was talking about the bell or the nurse.
His charisma began to draw you back in, and you shook your head, “There won’t be an issue.”
He nodded and clapped his thigh, “Excellent!”
His reaction seemed to put you at ease, not that it should have. This man was playful in a very odd way and you didn’t know if feeling comfortable around him was a good thing. But you weren’t sure how long you would keep up with his banter, so you excused yourself.
“Right, well…enjoy the rest of your visit.” You smiled slightly again at both men, and backed away before turning and walking quickly out of the foyer. Your hands were shaking- you weren’t used to such direct conversation- with a stranger at that.
You heard Lalo say say “Adios!” to you, and you cast a quick smile back, but you didn’t stop. Panic began to rise in you as you recalled the last time someone had shown you such an amount of charm…the bastard had eaten you up and you had had to crawl out of his stomach. And there you were: hiding.
As soon as you were down the hall and out of view, you gasped and braced against the wall; your heart was working over time.
“You alright sweetie?” One of the male nurses stopped next to as you as he passed. A nice older man named Jim.
You sucked in a breath and forced a smile, “Y-yeah, thank you…just one of those days.” You reassured him. The man pursed his mouth, but didn’t press anymore as he nodded sympathetically. It was was well known that you were a private person, and you appreciated when someone respected that.
As your chest slowly unclenched, you felt your head grow light. Your poor nerves were so shot that you truly were unsure as to whether that man was just charming and witty, or if he was just trying to get in your head. You couldn’t tell the difference between a genuine interaction and a narcissistic one anymore.
You rolled his name over in your head, and found that you enjoyed how it sounded.
Lalo…
You found yourself mentally throttling your brain over how it began to assume the worst. That you had chosen to lightly insert yourself into an old man’s life when you shouldn’t have; that you were being selfish. Stupid. Dependant. All of the above. You felt the weight of your guilt strain on your shoulders, and you let it.
You were being selfish and childish. You didn’t have a family, and you needed to stop pretending you did just because an old man didn’t hate you.
A little over a week passed since you met Hector’s eccentric nephew, and you had to admit that he had entered your mind a few times despite you actively not trying to think of that family. You felt a pang of hurt in your chest every time you did. You had no business envying them- it wasn’t your place.
That Wednesday was a very pleasant day; there was a light breeze that cooled the air and dried the sweat that gathered on your brow. You rounded the corner of the main living area that fed out into the patio, and as you stepped out, the fresh air made you inhale deeply. As you looked up and down the outside area, you felt yourself pause. He was back. You were met with the amusing sight of Lalo Salamanca retrieve a flask, pour out the jello vitamin mix that sat in front of Hector, and pour a hefty serving of liquor inside the cup. You almost laughed. These elderly people loved their alcohol.
For a couple seconds, you allowed yourself to take in Lalo’s appearance. You knew he was handsome since you first saw him, but you felt as if you could appreciate just how well he cared for himself now. A rich purple polo that pulled tight around his biceps…neat hair and moustache, a polished gold necklace just peaking out against his chest-
Stop it.
You shook yourself and forced your mind to push any thoughts of him out. Your trust in your ability to judge a character was under great scrutiny every since…since you got away.
This man was charming, and that was it.
It was company policy for no alcohol to be on the premises, but instead of making Hector’s day even more miserable, you let him have a few sips as you stayed just out of their view until Lalo hid the flask. Once you stepped out, you let your professional smile settle onto your tired face.
“Good afternoon Señor Salamanca, Señor Lalo.” You greeted them; your nerves were already starting to amp up in his proximity, but you managed to speak with a little less discomfort than last time.
As if to return the greeting, you heard Hector’s bell sound just as the younger of the two turned to you and smiled, “Ahh the humble señorita.” Lalo leaned an arm over the back of his chair- opening his stance. His voice was a pleasant rumble in the back of his throat. You noted that he appeared to be far more at ease this visit. First visits were often the hardest for family- seeing their loved ones in a nursing-home could be a difficult pill to swallow.
Lalo continued, “You got a pretty sweet deal here.” He look at around appraisingly as he took in the patio. Admittedly it was one of the more favoured sections of the home and recently renovated. But he was right, it wasn’t that bad of a facility.
“I can’t complain too much.” You agreed, and folded your hands in front of yourself as you stood between the men. Lalo’s personality was far louder than what you were used to, and the part of you that craved human connection urned to keep up with him; once upon a time you might have had the ability…but not anymore. You admired how quick and bright-burning he was- like a firecracker.
Lalo smiled. “Polite.”
Your brow furrowed, “Sorry?”
He shook his head- smile growing- and looked at Hector then back to you, “Hey there’s nothing wrong with it- you’re humble too…you some kinda saint? You gotta be to work in a place like this- I’d lose my mind.” He laughed and leaned more into his chair.
His statement made you pause for a moment. It wasn’t that far off from the truth- the need for patience that is.
“Taking care of someone can mean accepting them like a part of your family…there’s a real selflessness that you have to find in you, Señor Lalo. For myself it’s a bit easier than most…I-I don’t exactly have much of a family, so Hector fills a pretty big void at the moment.” You said simply. It was the honest truth. You shared your patient’s happy moments and their worst moments; they trusted you with their well-being, so it was only fair that you cared for them blindly- job or not.
It was no small admission- to say that you were isolated- but Lalo had a way about him that loosened your tongue.
He stared up at you for a moment, then huffed out a laugh, “Be careful with a Salamanca, we bite.” He pointed at you playfully, though you gathered that while he was indeed teasing, there was a more serious connotation to his words.
Lalo’s dark eyes glittered with mirth as he regarded you.
“Even you, Señor Lalo?” You tilted your head to the side slightly, and watched him shyly.
The older man’s smile formed into an amused smirk, “Klah- me? Never.” He scoffed, but his bright eyes betrayed him.
This man was trouble.
Your lips tugged upwards as you nodded to both men; his jest was not lost on you. It was as if he wished you would ask him how hard his bite was, but you knew that would likely be a poor choice on your part. “Prey can bite too, Señor,” you quipped.
Evidently your response surprised the man as his thick brows rose up. You felt regret pull at you for engaging in his game, but you didn’t want to immediately back down. Shock was a nice expression to see on a man so sure of himself. You nodded to both men, and took a step back, “Enjoy your visit, Señors.”
You continued your route, and made your way onto your next check-up; the feeling of eyes burning into the back of your skull followed you as you went, and a few eager dings from Hector’s bell rang in your ears.
When you finished with one of your oldest patients, Thomas Lee - who did not get along with Hector at all- you tentatively looked back at the far table; it was empty now. Even Hector was gone. You sighed and pursed your mouth, knowing you were playing with fire with this man. A part of you hoped that he would stop coming, or visit on your couple days off.
Stupid.
You were being stupid, and that was that.
The day ended like every single one before that. With you and your coworkers exhaused, hungry, covered in sticky grime, and back sore. You stood in front of your locker, taking a drink from your bottle when another attendant you knew walked to hers. Samantha…yes, her name was Samantha.
“Hey.” You greeted her, smiling sympathetically at eachother.
“Going home too?” She asked as he took her hair down from its curly bun.
You nodded and retrieved your bag, hoping you had something in your fridge to eat. “Sure am…”
She unlocked her locker and smiled a little, “Saw you talking to that visitor of Hector’s today…he’s not bad on the eyes hey?” She smiled.
You felt your cheeks flush, “Oh, yeah…hes nice.” You replied, not wanting to get into it…but then a thought crossed your mind. “Sam?” You asked her.
She turned to you and nodded. “Mhm?”
“Do…do you know anything about Hector? Ab-about his family?” You murmured, looking up at her.
Her brows hopped up and she shuffled a little closer to you, “Mr. Salamanca?” She confirmed.
You nodded after a moment, not fully certain you were ready, but your curiosity was too strong.
Sam looked around briefly, “Well…I mean you know we’re not supposed to really ask questions or anything…” she began, “…but…I’ve heard a few things.” Sam nodded her head and you noticed her playfulness lessened.
You turned to her fully now and gave her your full attention…she seemed to understand that you were curious. That, and she had been trying to talk to you properly for months and was likely over the moon that you weren’t being skittish.
“I- I’d like to know…” you said a little more gently than you usually did.
She sighed, and nodded. “Apparently…those guys that dropped Hector off were really strange…didn’t speak, and just gave Ronny- the reception guy, remember he quit last month? Yeah him, anyways…they gave him this folder with all of Hector’s information and there was no spot open for the old fart…but after a few phone calls, there was suddenly a spot open. It was so weird, but- I don’t know…” she stopped her speculation but you wanted to hear more.
“Please- it- it’s okay, this is between us.” You reassured her, and you meant it. You had expected her to just brush you off or say no, but now it was as if the name Salamanca was a curiosity to you all.
A beat passed before Sam finished with her locker and shut it. “It just…I don’t speak much Spanish but they always speak so secretively…just…I don’t know they might just be talking about family gossip but sometimes it’s fun to imagine they’re actually some…I don’t know a mafia or cartel family or something.”
As the words left her mouth, you felt the blood drain from your face. Everything that struck you as strange flashed before your eyes and it began to make sense-
“But honestly they’re probably just weird- you should see my folks, they’re nuts. I just like to make stories up for everyone to make the days go faster! See you tomorrow.” She smiled and walked past you, leaving you there with this new possibility weighing heavy on you.
Once you finally pulled yourself from the locker room, and waved a few dazed goodbyes to the staff you saw, you stepped outside and walked out to the parking lot. Your car keys caught on your nurse’s mask as you pulled them from your bag and you tsked them. You were preoccupied with the task as you made your way in the direction of where you parked, and once you freed them and looked up, you froze in the middle of the parking lot.
You knew that curl of grey anywhere. Lalo stood leaning against your car, with his hands in his pockets and a friendly smile on his face pointed at you. Since meeting him, You had yet to see him stand up, and now at his full height, his sturdy frame overpowered you even from a few meters away. He was tall and broad and confident, and you felt very small all of a sudden.
“So! Where are we going?” He said. His smile didn’t reach his eyes and he didn’t even try to hide it.
“Wha-?” You asked as you managed to go closer.
He rolled his eyes “C’mon- you hungry? I’m famished.” He stood away from the hood, and his tone was so persuasive you almost forgot about what Sam had said.
Almost.
You shook your head and tried to be as friendly as you could in an effort to hide how your hands shook, “Really it’s alright, I’m —“
His smile finally dropped. “Get in.”
His statement made you contemplate running. Getting back inside the retirement home and locking yourself in a closet, but you had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn’t end well. Hell you doubted you’d even make it a few paces from him before his big hand grabbed your hair. So against your better judgement, you nodded and wordlessly handed him the keys.
“There she goes, Atta girl.” He smiled again, and accepted the keys joyfully; this time the creases around his eyes deepened. Lalo slid into the drivers side and started the car. As he went to back out, he cast a look around the inside, and seemed to note that you didn’t take the best care of the car.
“You need a tool box?” He asked.
You buckled yourself in and barely caught what he said as you mentally screamed at yourself for getting in the car. Were you really that stupid? “Wha- huh? Oh-“ you caught where he was looking and cursed yourself for being so sloppy.
You backseat housed several materials you carried with you in case you car broke down -which it had the tendency to do. A pair of wire cutters wrapped in duct tape and some pliers to match, a lug wrench, a jack and a pylon…not to mention a first aid kit and a blanket. “I’m…I uh…just haven’t had the time.” You murmured, “Sorta new here.”
The older man frowned exaggeratedly and rose his brows as if to say “Alright then.” And silently put the car in reverse. He backed out with one hand on the wheel and the other on the back of your seat, and you had no choice but to smell his scent…you didn’t know if it was cologne or something else but he smelled of smoke and whiskey…and something sweet like syrup. Like he had been sitting in front of a fire drinking after dessert.
“So! Why don’t you tell me about yourself.” Lalo navigated easily through the streets, and looked over at you like you were old friends.
You thought for a moment, having taken an interest in a hangnail on your thumb. “Not much to tell, Señor.” You said as you looked up. It wasn’t a lie. Your story was a sad one and not a terribly interesting one at that.
“Cmon.” He dragged the word out, “You said you count my Tio as family…any normal person wouldn’t say that in a million years.” The older man laughed and tilted his head to chase your gaze a little when you averted your eyes.
“Why do you say that?” You asked as you looked down again.
Lalo gave you a pointed look. “Smart girl like you can figure that out, niñita.”
You sighed. It wasn’t as if you could just walk away from the conversation…he had you. Regardless of his motivations, Lalo was undoubtedly protective of his uncle…and you had to respect that. You wished you knew what it was like to have someone so protective, but you could imagine it was liberating.
“You think I have some kind of alterier motive behind my kindness to your uncle.” You said simply, trusting your intuition.
Lalo looked out the window, and you wondered if he had even heard your answer.
“You hungry?” He asked, pointing to a burger joint as he already turned his indicator on to pull in.
The sudden change in topic made you blink, your brain lagging. “I-…sure. Don’t stop on my account though I have food at home.” You squeezed your hands out of anxiousness, but he was already going to the drive thru. You had completely forgotten about how hungry you were for the last hour when you saw him in the parking lot. Now seeing the menu, your stomach growled.
“Whatdya want?” He asked expectantly.
It felt so…domestic. You had gone from being certain you might end up being interrogated in a warehouse to him taking you for food in a matter of seconds. You felt your stomach tighten with unease at the memory of the last person who had taken you through a drive thru; that time however you had been disassociating so badly you didn’t even remember ordering nor eating. Ungrateful he had called you.
Snap snap
Your eyes refocused and saw a large hand in front of your face having just snapped a couple times to get your attention.
You swallowed and sighed to steady yourself.
“What’s good here?” You asked, turning to him.
One of his full brows was raised at your odd behaviour, but his face went back to his playful demeanour instantly. “Depends…but their number 2 and number 8 are good.”
You nodded thoughtfully, “What do you get?”
He held up two fingers, pulling the car up through the drive thru to the speaker, “I’m from the south though so I like to add extra spice. Burns your mouth right off but god it’s worth it, you know?” The lines around his mouth and eyes deepened when he smiled and spoke.
Your couldn’t help but return the smile a little at him. You gathered he could probably befriend anyone he set his sights on. A people person…regardless of how intimidating he was.
“I’ll get the same…but um, I think I’d like to keep my mouth.” You said the last part a little shyly, hoping he wouldn’t take offence.
Lalo laughed, “Too bad, I was looking forward to seeing how red your pretty face would get!”
You…were not expecting that. You didn’t have time to reply or ask him to repeat himself before he was leaning out the window and adding extra fries to your order.
“You ever been to Mexico?” Lalo asked as he started driving again up to the window.
You shook your head, “No…haven’t been to a lot of places.”
He gasped, “No! Really? Ahh man, you’d love it. Best food in the world.”
When the window came into view you instinctively reached for your purse when you saw Lalo already producing a $20, and re-pocketing a wad of cash. He tsked you when he noticed you.
The woman at the window handed him the two bags of food and drinks and he smiled charmingly. “Gracias!” Lalo beamed, depositing your order in your lap, then began his way through the city again.
“Plain number 2 for you and fun number 2 for papi, you like orange? I got you an orange soda, you’re gonna love it. Used to smuggle these bastards when I was a kid…my Tio beat the shit outta me for it.” He laughed as he handed you the drink; shaking his head as he steered the car one handed and rifled through his paper bag with the other.
You accepted the orange coloured soda, brows shooting up. He was…generous. The smell of the burger hit you, and you felt your mouth water. It had been ages since you had a proper meal, even if it was take-out. You tentatively took your food out, and took a bite. You swore stars erupted in front of your eyes as the taste filled your mouth; pleasure sensors in your brain lighting up.
The older man beside you watched you out of the corner of his eye as he ate and drove. A proficient multitasker. You were hungry. Seemingly non-threatening…skittish…but you weren’t off-putting. Tired. Definitely tired.
Lalo pulled off the main road and began the drive into the neighbourhoods; he continued to take the occasional bite of his food as he drove. You wondered how he could be so relaxed constantly. You wondered if he had a single tense bone in his body. He was always at ease…like he was always 10 steps ahead of everyone. He was handsome, and you wondered if he used that as a distraction for what lay underneath; perhaps he was a calculating, plotting and scheming man under all the smiles and goofy theatrics…
Your food was gone within 5 minutes.
When Lalo finally looked over at you, he barked out a pleased laugh when he saw the empty wrapper and your last few fries in your hand.
“Shit, I’d better be careful or you might eat me!” He joked, and took a sip of his soda.
You hadn’t realized it but your shoulders had dropped and your fists had unclenched. You were relaxed.
And the older man beside you knew it.
“Tell me…what do you know about us Salamancas.” He said as if he was commenting on the weather.
You knew the question was coming, how could he not ask?
You put your drink down, and thought carefully. “You’re all very…intense.” You replied.
Lalo laughed, “Good one. What else?”
This time you fiddled with a napkin still in your lap. You didn’t want him to think you actually knew anything, because you honestly didn’t. You used your brain and speculated and observed, but you didn’t know much at all. You knew Hector likes grape jello more than raspberry and that Lalo’s necklace was that of Saint Anne- the Mother of Santa Maria…but that was the extent of what you knew for certain.
“You run some kind of business…here in Albuquerque…and I…I think you’re not just some nobody with an uncle in a nursing home…” You murmured almost to yourself. You half hoped he would ask you to repeat yourself so you could come up with something else…but his ears were as sharp as a fox.
“Ahh see, clever girl. I thought so.” His smile slowly faded into a calm line. “Why do you care for my Tio? Don’t tell me he’s your type- you’ll break my heart.” Lalo’s cheeky grin came back.
The jest did lighten your anxiety a little, just as the food had, but you noted that he ignored the mention it the business. He was evasive. And he was charming while he did it.
You knew Lalo had his doubts about you…even if it was for the home itself and not just you, you were th# lucky bastard who he had chosen to interrogate. If you wanted him to understand exactly why it was that you were so at ease with caring for grumpy elderly people - specifically Hector- you needed him to see your perspective. If this was any other relative of a patient, you would have jumped out of the car or booked it before he could have even gotten you inside…but you had a nagging feeling that the only way this would end well was if you saw it through. No matter how painful it was.
“You didn’t see him for the last 2 months, Señor…” You said gently, “He’s…he’s been alone. Completely. No visitors, no friends amongst the other patients…he’s- well non-verbal patients have a difficult time as it is…but paralysed one’s have it even harder…and I- well…I don’t exactly have anyone…at all really. Don’t have contact with anyone so…I think there’s just a certain level of recognition between people who are alone. I’ve been looking after Hector for two months now…you don’t know how hard it is to see him sit alone during visiting hours- for any of my patients that have to do that for that matter. I wouldn’t wish loneliness on my worst enemy, Señor. He didn’t have anyone and if he died tomorrow I wouldn’t sleep knowing he didn’t at least think someone cared enough to look after him, blood related or not.”
You meant it. You knew your fate was likely destined to be a lonely one, but if you could change that for someone else, then you were going to do your damned best…of course you had to chose a more complicated person but it wasn’t as if you were a terribly lucky person.
Lalo didn’t take his eyes off the road, and it wasn’t until the car stopped that you realized you were outside your little apartment building. Lalo tapped on the steering wheel for a moment, then he turned in his seat to face you.
“You mean that?” He asked, turning his gaze to you.
You went to open your mouth but he gave you a look that pinned you to the spot. He didn’t need to say anything for him to convey “don’t fuck around with me.”.
“You seem to be a busy man, Señor…maybe a wife or even a family,” You mused aloud while you ripped a piece of napkin. Your distracted gaze meant you missed how Lalo’s nostrils flared when you mentioned him having a family, “You must have a comfortable life…one way or another. But not everyone has that. A lot of people don’t. I…I don’t have much…my work is my life right now. Sure they’re not the most lively people to engage with but my patients mean a lot to me…because they take up a lot of my life…and after- well…right now I don’t mind it.” You said with conviction, then sighed, “Sounds sad now that I say it aloud…but don’t doubt me.” You turned to look at Lalo in those dark eyes of his, “Don’t you dare doubt me.”
As you spoke, Lalo’s mouth faded into a firm line under his moustache. But even then, his eyes glittered. He was quiet for a few moments, then he hummed.
“You got a mouth on you, kid.” He rumbled.
You held his stare for a moment. You were certain you had crossed a line with telling him off.
Then, just when you were certain he might jump on you or worse, he broke out in a laugh and smile, smacking the wheel in amusement, “I see why Hector likes you. You got a bite for being a ratoncito…I’d hate to see someone knock your teeth out.” He dropped your keys in your hand and in one fluid motion opened his door and stepped out.
His sense of humour was borderline morbid, but seeing him smile while saying it more reassuring than him not.
You followed suit, and stepped out of the car; Lalo joined you on the sidewalk as he seemed to inspect the neighbourhood. Then as he stood there with his hands at his sides, you remembered that he had no way of getting back to his own car at the nursing home.
“I- Thank you for driving me home, Señor…can I- can I call you a cab?” You didn’t know what else to say. This man had practically interrogated you, bought you dinner, and drove you home. You didn’t know what to do with an interaction like that; we’re you supposed to run and hide or thank him?…or both? You didn’t know why, but regardless of his intentions, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to be scared of him…not really. He was intimidating and imposing, certainly, but it wasn’t as if he was threatening you.
You hated that you couldn’t come to a concise evaluation of the man.
Lalo shrugged and looked down at you. “Nah.” He said playfully.
Your brows scrunched up in confusion and you were about to protest, but then a red car pulled up almost directly behind him with the same man who had been standing with him that first day. Nacho? Nacho.
“Señor Lalo?” You called as he opened the door. The older man turned to you and looked at you expectantly.
“What, still hungry?” He replied.
You forced yourself to look him in the eye.
“If you insist upon giving Hector alcohol…I suggest the second to last table on the patio towards the west. Much fewer eyes.” You said simply.
Lalo smiled widely and pointed his index finger at you. He did that often, you noticed. “I’ll pour you one next time, eh?” He laughed.
You smiled a little. “I don’t think that would end well.”
“I look forward to it!” He smiled even wider and you pursed your lips to keep from returning it. You didn’t want him to know that he was wrapping you around his finger whether you liked it or not.
Lalo sat in the the car, and he waved briefly before they pulled away and left you there with your head still reeling. You didn’t even remember walking up to your apartment or undressing or getting into the shower…but there you were under the warm stream of water trying to understand and rationalise what had just transpired. You were frightened, then at ease, then thankful, then suspicious, then open, then…you head spun. You had become to accustomed to your little quiet bubble with minimal interactions outside of it…and this man had forced his way through it like a freight train.
And what frighted you the most was that you didn’t want him not to.
Your hands shook as you remembered the last time someone had seemed so charming and sweet. You rolled your eyes.
Arms length. You would keep this man at arms length- just like you did with almost everyone else.
Three weeks passed before you saw Lalo Salamanca again.
It wasn’t as if you expected to see him often, or even at all…but the man had a certain way about him that made you miss his presence. He was so all-consuming and confident that it was noticeable when he wasn’t there. You also noticed how Hector’s mood began to drop again. You didn’t blame him.
In an attempt to make the man a little easier to handle, you started teaching yourself some simple Spanish when you had the time. It helped greatly that several clients and staff members spoke it well, and they humoured you in teaching you a few things each day. You supposed they were mostly taking pity on you, but you didn’t mind too much.
You started to feel a little more normal since coming to the scorching city…like you were starting to grow away from where you had run from. You even made a joke that made Jim laugh.
In the back of your mind, you did feel something odd though. Like there was something in your peripheral that you just couldn’t catch. You had sworn that you’d seen the same car on your route for a few days…but you also knew that your paranoia was still very present.
By the second week, you begun to notice how much the language helped around the home. Staff taught you basic things that you said day to day, and your patients helped with more conversational language…your empty head was thankful for the distraction and soaked it up like a sponge. You were tired of the nervous and stressful thoughts that usually occupied the space.
It was early on a Friday when you heard the unmistakable sound of Hector’s bell ringing. You hoped it was that he had gotten his favourite breakfast and not that he had been seated beside someone he didn’t like- you gadnt had enough coffee yet to deal with angry seniors.
There was very little to do following breakfast as the clients enjoyed some free time before activities started; you indulged your curiosity and followed the ringing sound. You sought it out until you came to the patio, and you felt a tiny smile on your lips when you looked past the array of wheelchairs and nurses; there at the second to last table sat two very engaged Salamancas facing away from the entrance you came from.
You saw Lalo give his uncle the occasional sip from the styrofoam cup on the table, and you already knew that was no vitamin mix in there. As you inconspicuously made your way over, checking on a few clients as you went, you began to notice just how tense Lalo seemed from behind. You didn’t want to think that you knew he body language perfectly, but for someone who was usually aloof in his mannerisms, having tight shoulders was far more noticeable.
You slowed your steps once you got closer; they were in conversation. A one sided one but you knew they communicated regardless of Hector’s muteness.
Then you made the poor decision to listen. Your Spanish was very juvenile, but you had come to pick up on a lot - especially phrases and words that were similar to English. Which was why you started to realise that what you were listening to Lalo say was not meant to be heard by anyone but his Tio.
With what you knew and could piece together, you heard a few words that sounded familiar enough; secreto, hombre pollo, establecimiento, restaurante, and quemar. The last one you knew very well thanks to an elderly woman named Pricilla pouring hot tea into the lap of an elderly man named Jerry -evidently his admission of love to her was false and she found out- and his cries of “Quemar!” still rang in your ears. Your mind worked to add everything together and from what you could gather was that there was a restaurant of some kind that could very well end up burned to the ground…and you were fairly certain that Lalo disliked the owner or manager.
Hector’s dinging continued, and you could almost taste the tension growing.
You were about to take the last few strides right up to them, but one word stopped you.
…Cártel.
Every muscle in your body froze simultaneously.
It was no confirmation, but it might as well have been.
It fit.
The respect Hector seemed used to, the rumours, Nacho standing like a guard dog, the lack of visitors, the sudden admission of Hector into the home, the low conversations…you thought back to when he had driven you home and added intimidation tactics to the list. The wad of cash in Lalo’s pocket too.
Then, you felt yourself unclench and a morbid sense of peace washed over you. It wasn’t as if you were reassured; it was that you were still alive. It didn’t mean a lot, but it meant that they either liked you, or had a better use for you…and by god you hoped that use was simply to look after Hector and not to swallow baggies of drugs to smuggle across the border.
And of all people, you had chosen them to befriend.
“There she is!”
You refocused your eyes and as your gaze landed on the man with the skunk stripe on his temple, you let a polite grin grace your features. He was half turned in his chair to greet you- that smile already pulling under his groomed moustache.
“Señor Salamanca, I see you’re enjoying your special juice.” You gave both men a knowing look, then turned back to Lalo, “Señor Lalo, it’s been a little while since I saw you last. I hope you’ve been alright.” You heard yourself say.
You supposed there was no point in trying to run. They had you, and you had let them reel you in; there was no reason to be cold to them. It wasn’t as if you were a cookie cutter Mary-sue yourself.
“Ahh you know how it is…la vida es una locura.” He waved his hand aloofly, resting his arm over the back of his chair. You noticed that he did not elaborate nor answer your query.
“I think I have an idea.” You confirmed both his English and his Spanish.
The easy smile on Lalo’s face seemed to go still. It no longer reached his eyes, and you took a little reckless satisfaction in that.
“Really?” He asked with a prodding tone. You had a feeling he was quick to catch your double meaning.
You smiled tightly, adjusting Hector’s chair since his nurse hadn’t. “Truly.” You replied. “You must be busy…Business doesn’t run itself, I’m sure.” You were walking on ice, and you knew it…but you enjoyed poking at the beast a little.
Lalo’s lips parted at your quip, then he barked out a laugh and pointed at you, “You got some eyes on you.”
You couldn’t remember the full story of Icarus, but you knew he died because he flew too close to the sun regardless of his fathers warnings…and you felt very much like that foolish Greek man. Lalo was a scorching flame and you were standing far too close.
“Always good to see you, Señor Lalo…enjoy your visit.” You nodded to Hector who had been watching the exchange between the two of you, and he dinged his bell at you once.
“Adios.” Lalo gave you a two fingered wave, and you excused yourself.
As soon as your back turned from them, your hands began to shake; adrenaline moved through your blood like a poison or antidote. You didn’t know which.
Jim passed by you with a greeting smile and nod, and you schooled your face quickly. “Could you take Thomas into the bingo room? It’s 2:30.” He said to you, and you welcomed the task to ground you.
“Sure thing.” You murmured.
You didn’t fully remember the rest of the day- you were too busy trying to remember everything you had heard Lalo say to his Tio…jotting things down on sticky notes with poor spelling and guessed words. You almost felt…responsible for what you heard. You knew you were in deep, and you knew that by being curious you were digging yourself even deeper, but somehow you couldn’t stop. It was a sick need to know exactly what you were dealing with.
The day ended like every single one before it; you were exhaused and aching and only had a few thoughts in your head and most of them were of how comfortable your bed would be once you got home. The only difference that day was your anxiety over the notes you had made that day- hoping you didn’t forget any.
You swore under your breath when your keys once again were caught on something in your bag-
“Fancy seeing you here, niña.”
Your head snapped up despite you trying to keep yourself as calm as possible. You swore the older man just liked making you jump.
“Do you practice those lines in the mirror Señor Lalo?” You asked softly, tilting your head up to look at him; Lalo was leaned against your car just as he had taken to doing now.
“You wound me!” He gasped, placing his hand on his chest.
“How long have you been out here?” You asked, standing almost toe to toe to him as he refused to move from his place.
You knew he likely wanted something, and he was using his perfected charm and relentlessness to get it. You internally braced yourself for him to tell you to get in the car again…that he knew you knew more than you let on…and that you should make peace with whatever god you had before putting an extra hole in your head. You didn’t want to think the worst of him and his family, but if that did indeed happen, you wouldn’t be shocked.
But Lalo didn’t move, and he didn’t say anything at first. His smile didn’t falter, though it did lower a little to sit comfortably under his moustache. You watched as he unfolded one of his arms from across his chest and extend his hand to you- what was in it more specifically. There was a little yellow piece of paper folded between his forefinger and middle finger.
“No bedtime stories alright?” He pointed at you with a teasing and cheeky grin on his mouth as he winked down at you.
You took the paper, and felt his skin brush yours for half a second- he was warm. You chose to ignore that, and you focused on unfolding it. It was just a number. His. He had given you his phone number. A cartel phone number. Your brain started reeling again. Then, as you looked at it, you make a mental note that the writing was slanted the opposite way than you usually saw, then you thought for a moment.
He was left handed.
You grinned to yourself at the realisation. You didn’t know why you saved that information, but it made the enigmatic man in front of you seem more human- like knowing he had a belly button or that he had baby teeth that fell out at one time. It was perhaps childish but you liked knowing more about him.
“I-…Thank you.” You said as you placed it neatly into your purse. Once upon a time you would have refused the number and told him it was alright- that you didn’t need it, that if he wanted to get in touch with Hector he could go through the home….but you supposed you knew better now. You knew he didn’t take no for an answer, and you supposed you should show some respect to him for giving you something so personal.
“Atta girl. Don’t work too hard, eh?” He finally moved out of your way and began back to his own -much nicer- car.
“Likewise!” You called to him and he seemed pleased with your answer as he smiled.
You watched the older man get inside his Monte Carlo, and you mirrored him. Your car was hot and the seat radiated unwanted warmth into your back, but you could barely focus on that. You pulled out, and passed his as you went to the exit. Lalo watched you go, and while you waved, he returned it with two fingers extended up from the wheel.
You knew you had errands to run, but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to. The notes you had made yourself were burning holes in your pockets, and your want to know what they meant was outweighing your need for groceries and laundry detergent.
In fact, you were so preoccupied with getting home that you didn’t even notice the car that was following you; just as it had been for weeks.
The sticky notes sat arranged neatly on your floor, and your computer stared back at you as you considered your options.
Option 1: try to find proper translations of what was said and risk knowing too much and possible death.
Option 2: tear the papers up and pretend you heard nothing and act like the Salamancas are just an honest business owning family…and possible death because you were naive and didn’t know what you were getting into.
You felt your eye twitch.
Both such tempting options.
But the more you thought, the louder that one word became.
Cartel.
You really know how to pick ‘em y/n…
You sighed and rolled your shoulders as you began typing. You knew that whatever translator you could find wouldn’t be perfect, but you just needed enough to understand. The English to Spanish dictionary you had bought two weeks ago sat open beside you are you poured over the notes you had made. The more you typed and searched and double check, the more your mind began to race- evidently there was indeed more to that family than you had anticipated when you initially befriended their patriarch.
You stared at the translated sentences now, and heaved a sigh.
“We need to burn that restaurant to the ground. I’ll burn it like last time, uncle.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“The chicken man’s establishments are blinding him, can’t see past his greed.”
“He thinks his secret is so fantastic.”
You knew they weren’t perfect translations, but you got the message. There was unrest, and Lalo was sent to deal with it. Whoever this “chicken man” was, he was causing problems.
You let your eyes glaze over as you started to think.
A restaurant.
You checked your notes.
“Restaurants.” Plural.
So a chain of restaurants.
With chicken?
Chicken was a code name? No…Lalo wouldn’t do code names…he mocks people and pokes at their weaknesses, but he’s not the CIA or FBI. He was being literal when he called him the “Chicken man.”
Did he smuggle drugs in chickens? Use it as a cover?
Chicken is their speciality?
You stared at your original note with Spanish.
“Los pollos” …you had seen that somewhere before. You felt your brain stretch as you tried to recall. A restaurant…Los pollos…you started to run the two ideas around in your mind.
Restaurant…Los pollos…restaurant…Los pollos-
Your head snapped up and you frantically scrambled over to your pile of spam mail that you had been ignoring. You knew that name. You did.
You grabbed a chunk of the mail and started sifting through it carefully, scanning every new cellphone, ever greasy pizza place, every-
Your hand gripped blue and yellow ad a little tighter.
The two chicken logo stared back at you.
Los Pollos Hermanos.
No. There was no way.
You couldn’t help the little laugh that came from your chest- either from stress or shock, you weren’t sure. Perhaps a mix of both.
You had driven past it a few times. It was always so clean looking, and you remembered the nice smell you always caught through your window when you passed by it.
You were about to tell yourself that you were being delusional, and that you were too invested in this…but then you supposed the saying of “it’s always the quiet ones” could apply to more than just people. Nice, cookie-cutter restaurants could perhaps be fronts for a drug dealing cartel.
The initial shock began to wear off, and you slowly started to look over what else you had translated.
“I’ll take care of it.” Lalo had said.
Burn the restaurant down, more like…
You wondered what he was capable of. Had he killed people? How many?
Your thoughts strayed to the man himself.
Trouble. That was what you first thought of him.
You thought about his charm and charisma…how he carried himself. He was a confident man in every sense. He adapted his tactics to fit the people he wanted something from…you knew he used it on you too. He was kind and a little pushy but not enough to scare you. He bought you food and drove you home with no immediate expectation…he made you smile and welcomed you. He made you feel seen. Criminal or not…he saw you.
A stupid idea crossed your mind. You knew you were in deep already, and with each passing day it was as if you took a shovel and continued to dig deeper. The thought you had was fuelled purely by your own involvement with the Salamancas and juvenile selfishness.
A stupid impulse to help the two people who made you feel like a human.
Without another thought, you grabbed your bag, checked the stove clock, and were in your car within 5 minutes. You didn’t even bother the change. The route that took you by Los Apollo’s was almost muscle memory, and you were able to let your mind wander as you went. Anything to keep you distracted from what you were doing.
It was closing time once you reached the restaurant. Lights were being shut off, and you could see several workers leaving, and a few more mopping the floors. As you pulled into a parking spot across the street to watch, you noted that there was a level of order to the way duties were carried out. It was methodical and you wondered what kind of training these kids went through…
Every so often, you would see an older man come out to the front and inspect something. His back was straight was he moved just as carefully as the staff cleaned; he was in a yellow dress shirt and tie- nothing significant. The manager or owner you assumed. Your interest was peaked.
You sat there for two hours until almost every single person left. Almost. You waited an extra 20 minutes before leaving, and you were glad you did. If you had left after that those two hours, you wouldn’t have seen that same older man you have observed off and on for 120 minutes exit the building, only now he resembled almost an entirely different person. He was in a sharp black suit, and the change had you so distracted that you didn’t even catch the bulky, black SUV pull in around where the man stood off to the side of the building. Of course, it could have just been nothing- it wasn’t up to you to judge what someone looked like or did after work…but things were clicking together far too easily for you to just gaslight yourself into thinking everyone was Mr.Rogers.
After what you heard Lalo say, you felt your gut sink as you decided that you were indeed not looking at an average business owner. Your I tuition had let you down before, but something about the heat of Albuquerque had you seeing people much more clearly…and if Lalo wanted this man gone, then you had a sneaking suspicion that was a big deal.
The black SUV drove away with the man in it, and you decided that was enough for one night. All at once, your suspicions and thoughts and curiosities were all but confirmed; all you needed was a sign on that man’s back that said “You were right”. You drove home, and welcomed the sight of your small apartment. A morbid part of you half expected someone to be waiting for you when you got back…someone who saw you watching…or perhaps even Lalo himself- perhaps you had become a loose end? But there was nothing. No one waiting for you…just your quiet 400 square feet. Your thoughts were whirling, and sleep seemed like a far away fantasy as you sat on your couch and stared at a crack in the paint.
You had indeed gotten mixed into something far bigger than you- there was no denying that anymore. However, now that you had very nearly completely solidified everything you had wondered, you knew there was no chance in backing out now. You could certainly play dumb for a while…but Lalo was so smart it scared you, and he would figure it out sooner or later.
So you kept digging.
Against your better judgement, you repeated your stakeout the following night. You sat there with a container of takeout, and watched closely. Just like the night before, the business ran, closed, was cleaned and shut up like clockwork.
Methodical.
Careful.
It was fascinating.
This time, however, that older man you had watched last time left in a car already parked there, and it looked far more civilian. You supposed it would draw suspicion if he constantly left work in a black suv. You almost laughed. It was all so ludicrous.
You felt like you were having a strange dream instead of your more constant nightmares. It was far more enjoyable but no less concerning. Where you usually woke up with a tight chest and heart beat so fast it hurt; sweat on your skin and hair sticky, you hope that perhaps if this was a dream that you might wake up and laugh at the idiocy of it all. How silly you were in it. But the more you sat there in your car, and as you drove home, and showered and ate and stared out your window…you started to realise that you were in no dream.
You really were being an idiot. A stupid, impulsive traumatised idiot.
Two days went by after your last visit to the restaurant. Two days of contemplation.
You knew why you were doing those things. You did. But you still found yourself asking yourself why. It was like you craved the anxiety or the adrenaline that came with doing something you know could end badly. What did that say about your mental state?
The file in your hand sat open as you stood behind the reception desk. You had been trying to focus on reading it for two minutes but your eyes repeatedly unfocused as your mind strayed. You just needed to check one of the client’s family member’s number, but you couldn’t seem to even pull yourself together enough for that. You blew the strand of hair that had come free and hung in front of your eyes for the fifth time; you had given up trying to move it.
You heard the main door open and you briefly looked up out of habit, but you took a second glance when you saw that familiar face walk through.
“Good morning Señor.” You said, brows raised in surprise as something stirred in your chest at the sight of his confident strides. This was the first time you had actually seen him enter- most of the time it was like he just materialised out of nowhere.
Lalo rounded the desk to where you were coming out and leaned against it. “Do you know that they’re charging 25¢ more for parking here? It’s criminal, man.” He shook his head.
His statement made a little smile escape you but you schooled it fast.
“I apologise, would you like a word with the owner?” You asked with a little sarcasm, “I’m sure you could talk some sense into him.”
He nodded as if weighing the option, then waved it off and looked around the foyer. “How’s my tio?” He asked calmly, “The old dog up yet?” Lalo looked back at you and flicked his gaze between your eyes. You couldn’t look away. Caught.
You finally tried to tuck the stay hair away again to no avail, and swallowed, “He’s in the activities room. He tipped two full cups of juice over this morning already to look at nurse’s asses when they bent over.” You said as straight faced as you could, though the image had made you giggle to yourself earlier.
Lalo chuckled, “Ese perro viejo no cambia...no harm done, eh?” He reached out and tucked the piece of your hair back behind your ear, then casually started to walk in the direction of the activity room and you took that at your cue to follow him. You had gone still when he had touched you, and you did your best to not let on how shocked you were by the gesture.
Lalo was speaking about something, but while you wanted to listen, you couldn’t quiet find it in you to pay attention. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interesting, or that you didn’t care…it was that you had a startling realisation. You had missed him. That was what you had felt when you saw him…it was happiness. The pleasure of seeing him again. Then when he had moved you hair, you realised how badly you had wanted to lean into his palm.
It startled you.
You scolded yourself. It was a a fantasy. That was it. You were just latching onto him because he spoke to you…hell you might have done the same to the greeter at a supermarket if he was nice enough. It was silly. Just like you.
You walked quietly until you came close to the door, then you stopped and let him go ahead. “Disfrute de su visita, señor.” You said, and the older man paused. Lalo turned to you, but you were already starting to walk past him.
“Gracias, Niña.” He called and you turned and nodded.
You didn’t turn around again, but Lalo watched you walk away for a moment. You didn’t need to see him to know it- his gaze burned. The older man stood there for a moment longer and flexed his hand. You were trouble.
That night, you sat in your car, parked on the street just out of the ring of the fluorescent street lamp light; eyes unfocused, medical mask in hand. It was 3am, and you hadn’t slept a wink. All you could think of was what you were very ready to do.
Another ten minutes went by before you refocused your vision and blinked. You looked across the street, and stared at the empty restaurant. It had been vacant for hours- the only movement you saw were the odd couple pulling into the parking lot for a quick drunken blowjob. Besides that, it was just you and the task you had given yourself.
Breaking and entering wasn’t a skill you appreciated having…but thanks to your ex, you did. He had taken to harvesting copper wires when money got tight…and he had always coerced you into coming with him despite your discomfort and anxiety. “You n me, baby, c’mon.” He would say as he dragged you out of the car. But you always had the sense that it was only you and him until you got caught. Asshole.
You sighed and threw your door open. You might now have known a lot, but you knew how to open a lock and mess with wiring without getting yourself fried in the process. That was enough.
With those old wire-cutters of yours in hand and mask on, you threw up your hood, and moved with the shadows. You rounded the restaurant, and snuck to the back where the staff entrance was locked up well. You half wished that the lock would have been enough to deter you…that you didn’t know how to pick a lock at all. But it didn’t, and you did.
You reached into your pocket, and took a couple small gadgets that you still had from the asshat, and began fiddling with the thick padlock. Your heart was thudding in your ears while you worked away.
What are you doing?
You screamed at yourself mentally, wishing you had an answer to your internal question but you came up with nothing. Only that you needed to do something.
Click
A sigh of relief huffed from your mouth when the lock popped open. Your shaking hands quickly slid it out of place, and you were about to push on the door when you wondered if they had a security alarm set in place. It was entirely possible. But you knew you had your hands covered in gloves and your car not too far if the cops were alerted.
You decided that even if there was an alarm you had enough time to run. With another deep breath, you tugged on the handle of the door, and pulled. To your good fortune, there was indeed no additional alarm.
Once the relief faded, and your focus returned, you made quick work of finding the electrical box. It was on the wall just down from the back door. You thanks god that it was small. You carefully opened it, and stared at the web of wires and switches that greeted you. You groaned a little, and looked at the pliers in your hand, then back at the wires. Your hands trembled more now than you recalled they used to. You supposed your body was forced not to show weakness in front of him…
You shook your head. “Focus.”
Just to be safe, you flicked off a few of the switches that looked to be connected to the wire sets you were eyeing as your target. The last thing you wanted was to get zapped and pass out. It wasn’t as if you were going to clip any…you didn’t want things to completely stop working. Just a few mistakes that would cause a big enough issue for the restaurant.
A half hour passed before you were finally content with the work your had done. Indeed, the web of wires before you now had exactly three faults that would slowly weaken and cause issues throughout the restaurant. Machines not working, and if left long enough they would likely cause a fire. It would mean a plethora of further issues too if an anonymous tip was called in regarding a poor and unsafe work environment.
With a deep breath and a few prayers, you flipped the power back on. The emergency light turned on and the box in front of you fizzed for a moment with the newly damaged wiring, but to your relief nothing exploded.
Your nerves started to come back now that you were finished. You flicked your eyes around and patted yourself down to ensure you left nothing behind, but just as you were doing so, you heard voices. A shot of fear surged through you, and your fight or flight kicked in. The latter won. You were out the back door within seconds and snapping the lock back into place as your mind went into hyperdrive. Your blood ran cold as you heard footsteps rounding the building; you breath felt too warm against your mask and your fingers barely managed to get the lock in place before you had to bolt. You hid in the shadows and crept along the side of the building until you could see your car and you ran. Your heart beat as fast at your legs were moving, and you didn’t stop until you were behind the wheel, and driving away. You felt like you were missing something, but you couldn’t stop to check even if you wanted to.
The sun had risen long ago, and you half wished you had to get ready for work…anything to get yourself busy and distracted from what you had done that night. It was a warm afternoon, and your hands were clammy as you sat on your couch with your phone sitting in front of you and the thick Albuquerque phonebook beside your thigh.
Just pick it up. Pick. It. Up.
Pick it up.
Pick-
You sighed and scratched your head before snatching the receiver up dialling the number you had your finger on in the phonebook.The ringing set your nerves alight as you waited. The monotonous tone lulled your for a moment, so when someone picked up, you almost jumped out of your skin. The person greeted you and introduced themselves with a name you didn’t hear. “How can I help you?” They asked.
You swallowed, but you had to do this unless you wanted the problem you had created to get even worse. “Hello, I-I’d like to make a complaint regarding unsafe working conditions? No, I’d like to remain anonymous please…Yes…yes that’s right. Huh? Oh, at Los Pollos Hermanos.”
“BELOVED LOS POLLOS HERMANOS UNCOVERED”
It was on the front page two days later. Evidentially a tip had been called in that there was severe malpractice in the restaurant, and after a health inspector had been sent…they had found exactly that. Issues with basic wiring- a truly unsafe working environment. Due to something so simple being so wrong, every other aspect of Los Pollos was thus being investigated, and the business had been shut down until further notice.
It was the talk of the nursing home when you came to work, and you forced a look of surprise as people groaned about it. However, while you did feel a small sense of guilt…you couldn’t hide the creeping satisfaction that began to settle in you. It had worked.
There was the tiniest secret smile on your face that got you a few strange looks, but you brushed it off with a “I just slept well.” A part of you was mortified that you had done such a thing…worrying that somehow they knew it was you and that police officers would pull up at any moment to arrest you…but it never happened.
You carried on your day like any other, and you began to seek out Hector in hopes that he had somehow heard what had happened…or perhaps that you could tell him yourself. Then as you walked, you began to feel worry creep into your thoughts.
What if I crossed a line?
What if I ruined one of their plans?
What if Lalo had wanted to be the one to take care of the restaurant?
You started to wring your hands as you walked out to the patio, but your head snapped to a table where you heard a laugh you knew very well. There was no coincidence that Lalo was sat there with his uncle that day- you knew that. And judging by the ringing of Hector’s bell, he was in a good mood.
You weren’t sure that you were ready to speak to him after what you had done…you were filled with so much uncertainty. If he didn’t like what had happened then he would likely track down who had done it and when he found you…that would be it.
You took a deep breath and went to walk back inside, but you were stopped short when a whistle caught your attention. You hated how fast you stopped and turned to it.
Sure enough, that man with the devious smile was staring at you openly with a friendly wave. You hoped to god that he was genuinely happy and not just luring you in. With one last internal whimper, you began across the patio and came to the two men.
“Buenas tardes Sr. Salamanca…Señor Lalo.” You nodded to them both, but you noticed that Lalo simply refused to take his glittering eyes off you- mirth swimming in them.
“Beautiful day, no?” He beamed mischievously, gesturing to the cloudless blue sky.
His charm was still very much in place, and you counted that as a good start, but you knew his mood could change on a dime.
You looked out at the saturated sky, “It is. You seem to be in an extra good mood today, Señor.” You said, then bent down to Hector to gently ask him if he was comfortable or needed water. He didn’t ding he bell, so you assumed Lalo had already done those.
“You ever see what a mouse can do in a house, niñita?” Her asked, still smiling.
You thought for a moment, “Y-yeah I have.” You said, recalling when mice got into the basement of your childhood home and ate through the Christmas decorations.
“They scurry around and get into everything but you never fucking see them. Fast, y’know? Chew through everything…pequeños bastardos destructivos…” he chuckled and shook his head, “I have a…very strong sense that there is a little mouse…right here in this city.” Lalo leaned forward on the table- his forearms flexing. “Causing some serious damage too.” His gaze was heavy and intense. You found yourself starting to feel afraid, but you did your best to keep it at bay.
“A- a mouse, señor?” You asked.
He hummed, “You know what the thing about mice is though, niñita?”
You tentatively shook your head.
“They make tremendous pets.” He grinned.
“I-I suppose you’re right.” You hoped your skin blanching wasn’t as visible as it felt.
Lalo chuckled and leaned back again, and you released a breath. “Someone made a fool out of some competition of ours…their tactics reminded me of a pequeño ratón, you know?”
“Oh?” You asked as casually as you could.
“Yep.” He popped the “p”, “There’s this restaurant which, admittedly is pretty good,” he began joyfully, “And you’ll never guess what happened to it.”
You shook your head and shifted a little.
“Tell me.” You said, hiding your shaking hands behind your back.
“Got shut down.” He said like it was a huge secret, “Yeah, something about a wiring issue. Morons,” he shook his head, “Crazy eh?”
“Yeah…who would’ve thought.” You agreed, mirroring his shock.
“Yeah. Bonkers.” His smile faded from his eyes, but remained on his lips. But there was no anger there, which you counted as a positive thing.
Silence settled over you and you started to squirm. “It’s a good thing though…isn’t it?” You couldn’t help yourself from asking. You needed to know what he thought…whether you should say your goodbyes to this world or if you could actually breathe.
Lalo smiled again. “Sí, algo muy bueno.”
Your ears started ringing as his words settled into your brain.
He wasn’t furious.
He wasn’t vengeful.
You nodded, trying not to show how relieved you were. “Well…it might be unfortunate for that business but I hope your family does well in the meantime.” You sighed as calmly as you could, and picked up an empty cup on the table- anything to hide your trembling hands. “It’s always good to see you Señor Lalo…until next time. Sr. Salamanca your nurse will come get you in twenty minutes alright? Please don’t try and make her deaf this time…” you added after having the memory of the woman yelling every time she spoke for three hours following Hector ringing his bell non stop for 15 minutes. Poor thing could barely hear.
“Adios, niñita.” Lalo murmured just loud enough for you to hear it, and you cast him one last look before you left. You were certain you would never get accustomed to his stare.
The remaining part of the day passed in a blur. Before you knew it the next shift of workers were signing in and you were signing out. The receptionist on that evening bid you goodnight, and you finally felt yourself fall back into your body.
You said a few goodbyes on your way out the door, and you absentmindedly played with your keys. You ran the day over in your head, and while you did feel relieved that Lalo wasn’t angry…you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. You swore you forgot something when you had …when you had gone to the restaurant. You hadn’t had the wits to look over everything when you got home, so you were hoping it was just some remaining guilt in you still festering.
There was a light breeze that night. It crept up your spine and tickled your cheeks. You breathed it in as you climbed into your car, and you let yourself relax a little as you pulled out and drove home.
Your building came into view but just when you were climbing out, a body came right up in front of you- caging you between your door and the sidewalk.
“Hola pequeña!”
You stared up, and felt your cheeks warm at the proximity to the older man - his grey streak prominent in the golden setting sun. You felt your skin prickle with goosebumps and your fingers tingled as you fought to find something to say.
You forced a small smile despite how flustered you were, “H-hello Señor.” You said softly.
“Just the person I was looking for. How lucky am I?” He smiled- one arm over the open door and the other on the roof. You were stuck.
“Oh I- r-really?” You hated that you couldn’t stop tripping over your words.
His grin only deepened, “Yeah, you know…almost as lucky as I was when a little mouse decided to meddle with that restaurant, hm?”
You stared at him, not knowing what else to do or say. Your anxiety began to creep back as you started to think that the joy he had shown in front of Hector was just an act after all.
“If you say so Señor… I hope no one was hurt.” You managed to say as his warmth and scent radiated into the air around you.
He laughed and shook his head. “Nah not this time…but I will say that whoever did it was a little nervous I think.” He said as if it was a conspiracy, tilting his head just so.
“Oh?” You asked. Not your most genious of replies but your brain was starting to turn into white noise.
Lalo nodded, and you could tell he was feigning concern; his mouth was in a frown but his eyes were filled with amusement. He was playing with you. “Yeah they left their shitty wire-cutters behind.” The older man reached into his back pocket, and you felt yourself blanch.
“I went by there you know…the day after to give my condolences on the unfortunate findings…And I just so happened to find these. Such an amazing coincidence too.” He smiled, wagging the cutters at you as he spoke.
You continued to stare, as if you moving would cause him to blow your head off; you still couldn’t tell if he was pleased by what happened, and each passing moment didn’t seem to help clarify anything.
“Coincidence?” You asked a little breathlessly.
He nodded brightly.
“Yeah, I mean don’t you have a busted pair like these in your car?” Lalo pointed the metal at your vehicle.
He knows he knows he knows he knows-
“I-I I did…been donating some things though I think they were in the last l-load I did. Haven’t seen them for weeks.” You felt your brain working overtime as you fought to find something to convince him with; you were fine with him not knowing it was you even if he was happy about it…but you weren’t leaping at the chance of telling him that it was you and him not being pleased.
But then, Lalo tsked and leaned away, “Too bad…here I was thinking I might owe you a favour. Guess not.” He shrugged and tossed them into the window you now saw was open. You didn’t remember opening it, and you realised he must have opened it when you were working to check if your wire-cutters were missing.
Then you felt your heart sink. He knew you were lying.
You sucked in a breath and shrugged.
“Even i-if it was me…you wouldn’t owe me anything.” You said, holding your ground as he towered over you.
His brows rose comically.
“No? Some say a favour from a Salamanca is as good as gold.” He rumbled. His breath fanned across your cheeks and he readjusted his hand by your head. You felt yourself almost gravitate towards it.
You nodded and tried to ignore how you couldn’t feel your fingers.
“I’m sure you’re right, señor…” you replied, “Tu tío no me odia y has sido generoso…that’s enough for me.”You watched that mirth return. An morbid amusement.
You watched something in his head click ad he pieced things together in two seconds.
“Ah, ella ha estado aprendiendo... Una chica muy lista.” He winked and wagged a finger at you as he stepped away from you and onto the street.
You might not have gotten every word…but you knew there was a little bit of pride in what he said. Like he was amused by you learning and speaking his native tongue.
“My apologies for interrupting your evening. Adiós!” He was out of your space and walking to his Monte Carlo that you somehow missed when you pulled in.
“G-goodnight, Señor.” You watched him walk. There was a certain carefree confidence to the way his arms hung by his sides. You wondered what that was like.
He drove away with a two fingered salute, and you returned the gesture with a little wave. There was a surge of turmoil coursing through you as you pried yourself away from the sidewalk. On one hand, you hoped against hope that he wasn’t buttering you up only to turn around and end your existence…and the other part of you was trying to stop the first part of you from being so naive.
You strode into your apartment like you had soggy socks- slowly and uneasily. You sat on your couch and stared at the wall.
You fell asleep that night just like every other- suddenly and not knowing that you were being watched. Not that you would ever notice. Hector’s men might now have been as intelligent and inconspicuous as Lalo’s own back home, but they did the job. Every night like clock work; they followed you home, watched your window, and stayed quiet about it. It had been months now. At first it had just been to see if you were an informant or a plant…but after a few weeks, some uneventful phone taps and 24 hour shifts later, it was clear that you were just…alone.
Lalo knew your routine better than you did. Knew that you often sat for stretches of time on your bed or couch upon getting in the door…usually not even doing anything. He knew that you only ordered a full meal from a restaurant once every two weeks. He knew that you had nightmares too- sudden crying or screaming in the night had spooked the men stationed outside your window at first…but after a few nights they got used to it. He could still remember his mother having them when he was a boy and his father would disappear for days…her cries from her room. He knew the sound all too well.
You weren’t a threat. Not really. Lalo was still trying to work out how you had managed to get under Hector’s skin…but he had a feeling that your respect for him gave him a familial sense about you. Like a niece. No…no Lalo wouldn’t get rid of you any time soon, not while you still pleased his Tio, and now apparently looked out for the cartel.
When the men had told Lalo about your late night escapade, he had indeed paid a visit to Los Pollos Hermanos…and he admittedly hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time when he found those old shitty wire cutters of yours. He knew you had spirit but he had to admit that he hadn’t expected that of you.
You were this skittish little thing , but the older man couldn’t help but feel entertained at your antics. You were juvenile and fearless despite your anxious nature. So eager to prove something.
So they watched you.
The following few nights after your impulsive crime, the men had taken to start making little bets. Would you do something else crazy? Was it a one time thing? They kept busy.
You were dull, but you were cute, and they didn’t mind.
They knew you never had visitors, so a week later, when they saw a taxi pull up, and a man get out in front of your building they didn’t perk up. They watched him enter, and lazily observed him; it wasn’t until they noticed how he loitered outside the front door until someone left and he caught the door that they looked at him a little closer.
The man disappeared inside, and they were begining to grow bored of waiting to see if anything if happened until your apartment light turned on.
They watched what they could see of you move through your apartment. One of the men had his binoculars in hand, pressed to his eyes to see more, but all he could make out was your door being flung open, and your home going black.
That was enough for them.
One of the men pulled out his phone, and pressed a speed dial, and waited as it rang.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
#tony dalton#lalo salamanca#better caul sall#breaking bad#Lalo Salamanca x reader#breaking bad imagine#better call saul imagine#lalo salamanca/reader#lalo salamanca imagine#bcs fic#better call saul fanfic#tony Dalton x reader
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random thoughts... saul fingering you while hes on call with someone ... placing his hand tightly over your mouth to shut you up ... dhdjhejshrntg..f..g.. getting bent over that damn desk and him taking his tie off to choke you with it ...
>:333
combining w/ these
anatomical terms:
"We're sorry we missed you! Saul Goodman and Associates is out to lunch. Leave your name and phone number at the tone, and we will return your call before the end of the business day. Thank you!"
If anyone were to contact the office between 1-2PM, Monday-Friday, that's the message they would be greeted with. Guaranteed. That was when Saul took his lunch break. During that time, he'd eat out and get whatever he was craving: burgers, Mexican, Thai, you. That last one was his favorite.
You were laying down flat against his desk, legs dangling over the edge, with Saul nestled between them as he ate you out. Your hand grasped at strands of his thinning hair and guided his movements. He appreciated the help, but he didn't need it. He knew what he was doing, and what he was doing was a great job.
Hs firm hands and thin lips brought you up to the precipice of an orgasm. You begged for release in the soundproof office. "Saul... Saul, please... so... so close... God, fuck, please... Please!"
Surprisingly, the next thing you heard was not your own voice shrieking in ecstasy, but that of a telephone screeching for attention. You both froze in place, your climax shot down and reduced to rubble.
Saul pulled off of you and groaned, his mouth quite literally dripping wet. "Son of a bitch..." He stood up, brushed himself off, and leaned over you to hit the intercom button. "Francesca! What time is it?"
A flat, no-nonsense voice came through the other side. "2:04" was all it had to say.
"Oops! Sorry, lost track of time there. Thanks HT!"
"Don't call me tha-"
Click.
Saul silenced her dissent by releasing the button. He sat back in his chair and grabbed the ringing phone, one of many piled up in his drawer. Holding the cell in one hand, he beckoned you over and slapped his thigh with the other. A silent cue for you to take your seat.
You slid off the desk and propped yourself on his lap. He flipped the phone open and finagled it between his shoulder and his ear to keep both of his hands free. "Thank you for calling Saul Goodman! What can I do for ya?" He answered with perfect poise and nonchalance as he wrapped his arms around you and groped your chest.
The voice on the other end was frantic, low, and gravelly. You didn't hear specific words, just tone. Saul rolled his eyes as it spoke, lazily dragging one of his hands lower and lower, until it rested between your legs. "I see... That sounds very troubling." He answered with mock sympathy as he pressed his fingers inside you again.
You threw your head back and moaned, probably for a fraction of a second before Saul slapped his hand over your mouth. "Quiet. You just sit back, relax, and let me handle this, okay? I don't need your input."
The party on the other line must have heard something, because Saul's response was more anxious. "Oh! Nothing, nothing, don't worry. Now, let me check my schedule and I'll see where I can fit you in." He twisted and turned his fingers inside you, stretching you out, probably making sure you could fit him in. "Hm... looks like it's gonna be a tight squeeze..." He emphasized those words by pushing up into your g-spot and making your legs tremble, "...buuut I can get you in tomorrow at 4. Would that work for you, Walt?"
His voice stopped for a moment to let "Walt" speak; his fingers didn't do the same. Regardless of who "Walt" was and what he needed, it wasn't as important as this. At least, to you two it wasn't. "Walt" was shouting into the phone like he might burst a blood vessel.
Saul replied incredulously at the mysterious figure's behavior. "What?! Absolutely not! I have a waiting room packed full of clients who need to see me just as much as you do! I'm not your little callboy!" He leaned in close to whisper in your ear. "You on the other hand..."
He turned his attention back to the petulant voice shouting in his ear. "Y'know what? I'm done talking about this. Mr. White, I'll see you at 4PM tomorrow and not a moment sooner." He took his hand off your mouth to snap the flip phone shut.
"Sorry about that, sweetheart, now..." He pumped his fingers even faster, priming you for another release. "Let's get back to the task at hand."
#anon#ask#bcs#better call saul#bcs x reader#better call saul x reader#better call saul smut#better call saul imagine#better call saul headcanons#better call saul hcs#brba#breaking bad#brba x reader#breaking bad x reader#breaking bad headcanons#breaking bad smut#breaking bad imagine#breaking bad hcs#saul goodman#saul goodman x reader#saul goodman smut#saul goodman hcs#saul goodman imagine#saul goodman headcanons#jimmy mcgill#jimmy mcgill x reader#jimmy mcgill smut#jimmy mcgill imagine#jimmy mcgill hcs#jimmy mcgill headcanons
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You Make Me Happy / Jimmy McGill Imagine
Request: May I request a fluffy/cuddly Saul Goodman x reader. Maybe they’re sitting on the couch eating ice cream out of the tub watching tv or something. I crave domestic fluff with this man.
Honestly this is such a mood I too crave the domestic fluff with Jimmy!! <3 Also this is the perfect time to write this because I am freezing and just gripping my hot water bottle lmao
Also sorry if I read this wrong but I’m basing it on BCS Jimmy/Saul rather than BB! Also sorry I love doing weird character studies of Jimmy so this turned out a little more wistful than I meant it to be I can’t help it bruh this show has me in a tragic chokehold
If you enjoy, please let me know by commenting/ reblogging! Thank you, it really makes the world of difference! <3
(I do not own Better Call Saul or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @lousolversons.)
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°
‘Jeez, your feet are freezing.’
Considering how compact Jimmy’s little room behind the nail salon appeared to be, you expected his home to be slightly warmer during the winter season. Yet the cold seems to be sneering at the two of you; a sharp frost seems to be coating your bodies, glazing your skin until you nearly bump heads shivering down to huddle under the shared blanket. The boxy room seems far too enclosing, even in spite of the lack of space: the desk shoved up against the far wall, leaning until Jimmy’s coffee-mug turned pencil pot has nearly tipped onto the floor, seems more like a tomb of splintered second-hand wood than a table. Jimmy doesn’t seem to mind though, as he absently minded puts his take out box down onto the chair that has half its legs up on his side of the bed. You had tried to argue that there was space over in your half of the room if you pushed it against the door, but he wouldn’t hear a word of it. He would forgo any comfort, if he did it for your sake.
He blinked slowly, as if his mind was still unwinding from ‘high pressured failing lawyer mode’ and back down into the regular ‘ol Jimmy Mcgill that had been held in crumbling abeyance. He was still disgruntled from his earlier visit with Chuck, which he had animatedly thrown his tie on the floor and yacked at you about as soon as he had come back in the salon doors. He was tired of this: the constant fighting, the constant spiral back down into the pit, the claw back up into the empyreal light that only ‘Saint Chuck’ could bathe under. Tired, yes. He was tired, and he was distraught, and he was cold, and he was foiled. A failure, a scapegoat, ashamed, a kicking post for life to laugh at, thwarted. As Chuck had reminded him, yet again, as he sat in his armchair in his fancy house with its hollow empty walls and its silence and its lordly righteousness, he would never earn everything he had fought so hard for. Doomed to always and yet never be Jimmy McGill, he seemed so lost in himself.
‘Forget freezing’, you start, nestling down further into his side and rubbing your legs against his until you can feel his hairs rise, ‘I think if I kick them hard enough they might shatter off in shards of ice.’ You smile over at him, distressfully, and wait to see if he can draw himself back out.
He finally seems to realise you’re actually still there - still actually sitting there next to him, looking over at him as if he were a man of any actual importance. As if he weren’t a loser, living on seven hundred bucks a week in the squalid back of a nail salon, with nothing but the empty tones of his dinged desk phone to keep him company most of the night. It was almost enough to make him break down right there and then. Instead he turned to look towards you, his eyes lighting up almost immediately at the sight: the shadows drawing away from eyes and filling them with colour and life and love again.
He guffaws at your statement, but doesn’t protest when you clamber your feet on top of his to try and make them soak up some of your warmth. The crimson red of his toe nails nearly makes you laugh out loud; the thought that tomorrow no one in the court room will be able to tell just how vivacious they are under his grimly shined shoes and bright purple socks. The red was a bold choice, but Jimmy didn’t seem to care. Or perhaps, he cared too much. You had tried to warn him against it, knowing if his brother found out it would hand him another chisel to scratch away at Jimmy’s professionality: but it had been yours, and so, in his mind, it was the best of choices.
He wraps an arm around your waist, winding it uncomfortably back past the slightly askew spring on the side of the sofa bed and rests it gingerly against your waist. He’s still so unsure of himself, no matter how many times you say that it’s true: you really do love him, and want to spend time with him. He still sees himself as a pity case for you, and so he drums his fingers against your pyjama bottoms in the rhythm of some old country song he remembers his dad playing at the shop. It was one he would complain about listening to, sitting huddled up by the crisp shelves and using whatever magazine he had stolen off the magazine rack to shove against his ears, yet he still seemed glazed over, content as he tapped against you.
‘It’s the Irish in me. My dad was the same. You know, he could wear ten jumpers and still pretend as if the temperature was perfectly fine when he was freezing his yams off. Us potato eaters are just used to colder climates-’.
‘Jimmy you can’t play the Irish card every time. You’ve never even set foot in Ireland.’
Before giving him a chance to retort, you take the spoon of ice cream you’ve been nibbling on out from the side of your mouth, dunk it into the open carton resting on your knees, and shove it back against his lips. He snorts, but eagerly licks the mint chocolate chip ice cream off the spoon before letting you pull it away again. As he swallows, he watches the black and white movie that fizzles out from his banjaxed tv set eagerly: wide eyed, lips drawn tight in an almost childlike concentration. He looks almost as if he’s jumped out of it himself; he’s a man so buried in shades of sharp black and mute greys, piling over the vibrancy and glee that radiates out from his almost ingenuous smile. He catches you staring at him from the corner of his eyes, and tries to hide the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. It turns into a real frown, though, when he sees how intently, how sadly you’re surveying his face: roaming over the dark lines that tire his eyes and the forehead crinkles that seem to have been brought on by a burdensome weight. He seems so old despite his youth, so weary and beaten. Yet so soft, so gentle at the same time, as his eyes doe in a concerned confusion and he reaches over to squeeze your shoulder.
‘Doesn’t mean I’m not Irish’, he says quietly, as if afraid to break the silence. ‘Like Old McDonald, you know... ee i ee i oh and all that jazzy crap.’
You laugh, and the sound is like the bells of heaven to his ears. Flinging the spoon back into the tub and throwing the whole thing to the side, he both quickly and blithely reaches up to steady your arms as you turn to stare at him. You let your jaw fall in mock abhorrence, and yet the grin only grows wider and wider over his face as his fingers spread upwards to massage your wrists.
‘That’s MacDonald, dumbass. And I don’t remember him singing about how he was so Irish after every animal like you do.’
He looks almost shocked at your words. He bites on his bottom lip and looks up at the ceiling, clearly distraught at the idea that the nirvana of his childhood memories could somehow, in some way be impaired.
‘Wait... really? Are you sure it’s MacDonald. Because I definitely remember Chuck singing it like Old Mc-’.
‘That’s because you were five, Jimmy. It probably took all your effort to coordinate your limbs enough to clap along, let alone sing it too. Just take the hit on this one, okay?’
The phone rings, and Jimmy nearly jumps out of his skin, and out of his reverie as he lets it ring out harshly through the room, ignoring it for the first time in months. Instead, he coughs hoarsely and swallows the lump in the back of his throat, staring straight ahead at the wall. Finally, he manages to swallow his pride and waggle his eyebrows at you in defeat, sliding further down onto the bed and leaning up on his elbow to lean over you. He purses his lips as you wiggle down to join him, but he has the softest look in his eyes when your thigh comes up to rest between his own. ‘Do you think, one day maybe... we’ll have a conversation that actually makes sense.’
You snort. ‘Not with you about I won’t.’
He collapses down onto his back, clutching his shirt up into a balled fist in one hand, and pressing the back of the other flat against his forehead with an ostentatious ‘awoOH.’ He pretends to whine like a kicked dog, yappering and howling and mewling as he rolls about the bed. You, on the other hand, only try to suppress your giggles at the set of his antics as you rest your arm on the soft squidge of his tummy.
‘Oh, ouch’, he keeps going on, closing his eyes as if he’s in intense pain. ‘That one hurt. Look at that, look at my chest, I’m bleeding!’ He takes your hand and presses the tip of your pointer finger against the thrum of his heart, his hand cradling yours all the while he jammers animatedly at you. ‘You know’, he sighs and lets his head deflate back down onto the cushion, ‘you really kicked my ass with that one.’
You poke him in the bellybutton and enjoy the way his arms seem to spring up in reaction, curling tightly around your waist and tugging your squealing body down on top of him. Although he exhales, you know he doesn’t mind the new weight on top of him: his back still aches from time to time, and his hip joint still creaks in the winter, but he tugs you tight against him as if still pretending to be a spry chicken. His expensive watch: the only object worth any amount of money in this place, and one of the most gaudy of his possessions presses against the curve of your back, but his thumb rubs against your skin as if in apology as you settle yourself on his chest.
‘Your ass is on your chest?’
‘Hey, way to kick a man when he’s down. You know what you should do - oh ho, yeah, you should shut it.’
‘Make me.’
It takes him less than a second to arch his tired back up to kiss you, his lips needy and pliant and familiar against yours the second they touch. Once he’s done pressing his lingering, smushing lips over yours a thousand times (and once more for good luck), he pulls back to cradle your face in glowing content.
‘I promise, I wouldn’t want it any other way. You make me happy.’ You run your fingers down his chin, the dim glare from the rolling credits nearly shrouding the two of you in pervasive darkness. You choose to tip his head up so you can look at him properly, squinting in the lack of light; although you couldn’t tell before, tears have obviously been welling up in his bloodshot eyes, as they’re now splattering a damp grey down onto the dirty sheet.
‘Yeah’, he chokes. He brushes the back of his knuckles over the side of your cheek, shaking against your arms as he smiles. ‘You make me happy too.’
#better call saul#better call saul imagine#jimmy mcgill#jimmy mcgill imagine#saul goodman#saul goodman imagine#breaking bad#bob odenkirk#jimmy mcgill x reader#jimmy mcgill fluff#jimmy mcgill angst#saul goodman x reader#saul goodman fluff#better call saul x reader#breaking bad imagine#breaking bad x reader#bcs#bcs imagine#bb#bb imagine
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BrBa/BCS MASTER LIST
indications for requests here!!
reader asks Tuco/Lalo/Nacho if she can watch him jerk off x
Lalo Salamanca
Lalo x Michoacano's owner's daughter
Lalo stalking the girl he has a crush on with his binoculars
Lalo obsessed with Don Eladio's maid
Lalo gives a ride to a lonely girl who was on the road
Lalo and Nacho steal you to be part of their throuple x
Lalo and Nacho try to woo you
Casa tranquila worker catches Lalo's eye
Nacho Varga
Nacho goes soft on his friend with benefits
Nacho falls in love with a customer
Obsessive!Nacho
Nacho falls for Lalo's trophy wife. p.1
Part. 2
Su Obsesión p.1
Su Obsesión p.2 x
Nacho falls in love with Lalo’s younger sister
Tuco Salamanca
Tuco falls in love with one of his dealers, pt. 1
Tuco falls in love with one of his dealers, pt. 2
Tuco falling in love with his abuelita's home health aid worker
Tuco torturing someone who disrespected his girlfriend x
Telling Tuco that you’re pregnant
Tuco takes care of his sweet and shy girlfriend x
Tuco falling in love with a waitress at the restaurant
Tuco being gentle and sweet with the girl he likes after she gets insulted by someone
Marco and Leonel Salamanca
Marco and a nursing home worker have a sporadic encounter x
Marco and Leonel share the same girl x
Leonel having a crush
Howard Hamlin
Howard and his sweet new receptionist
#masterlist#lalo salamanca#lalo salamanca x reader#bcs x reader#better call saul x reader#better call saul imagine#better call saul imagines#breaking bad x reader#nacho varga x reader#better call saul smut#tuco salamanca#tuco salamanca x reader#tuco salamanca fanfic#krazy 8#marco salamanca#marco salamanca x reader#smut
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8 O'CLOCK | Gustavo Fring
☆ premise: you and gus confront each other after you call the cops on his dealers.
☆ pairing: gustavo fring x gn!spouse!reader
☆ warnings: angst, angry gus & reader, possessive!gus mention (sorta? idk)
☆ a/n: been thinking about that plot point where jesse found out that gus' men used a kid to deal and i just couldn't resist a "what if" scenario with gus' spouse.
7:50
Knowing your husband's line of work, you dreaded the day he might never come home. But tonight, this was the first time you wished he wasn't.
A part of you felt like an idiot. You knew Gus had eyes and ears on you 24/7. He had the latest security systems in place at home. He had Mike following you around when he wasn't doing cartel-related work. He made sure he knew your every move. So, of course, you knew he had your phone bugged.
7:55
But you weren't going to keep quiet. When you found out he was more than just a restaurant chain owner, you made him promise one thing—no children. He swore he had never and will never use children for his business. And you believed him.
You could've gone to the nearest phone booth. But you didn't. You called 911 on your phone. You wanted him to know—no, you needed him to know you did it.
8:00
On time, as always. You heard your husband's car pull up on the driveway just as you finished setting up the table for dinner. You approached the entryway, breath hitching as you wondered what he'll do. You knew not to mistake his calm demeanor for gentleness.
After what seemed like an eternity, the door finally opened. You expected Gus to come in and give you a look that could kill. You didn't expect him to smile and pull you in an embrace with one arm.
"How are you?" Gus asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"I—I'm fine," you stammered, confused by his demeanor.
"Good. I'll go freshen up, then I'll join you for dinner."
You watched in amazement as he headed for the bedroom. How was he acting as if nothing was wrong?
The night went on the way they usually did. The two of you ate the dinner you made while talking about the day you both had—minus the cartel business and the 911 call, of course. Afterwards, you washed the dishes while he cleaned up the table and put the leftovers in the fridge.
After cleaning the last of the utensils and leaving them on the rack to dry, you turned around to find Gus staring at you. Gone was the warmth he showed you tonight, replaced by a coldness that not even you had seen before.
"Why did you do it?"
When you didn't answer, he approached you until he had you pressed in between his body and the sink.
"I asked you a question—why did you do it?"
"You know why." You responded, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat.
His jaw clenched, and you could hear a hint of frustration in his voice as he said, "I didn't know they were using children."
Your lips formed a thin line. You didn't believe a word of it. For a man who was three steps ahead of everyone else, how could he not know?
"You keep tabs on your partner, but you don't keep tabs on your own men. You expect me to believe that?" You spat as you glared at him.
You started to walk away, not before Gus wrapped his hand around your forearm and pulled you back against the counter. You tried to pull your hand away from his grasp, but his fingers tightly gripped your wrist, nails digging into your skin.
"Do you truly believe I would deliberately use children in my operations?" He growled, anger dripping in every word. "You think that lowly of me?"
"That's the problem, Gustavo—I don't know!" You snapped, your voice so loud the neighbors would've heard you if it weren't for the soundproofing measures placed in your home. "I have no idea what happens in your line of work. I rely on your word because I trusted you. I thought you would never lie to me. But today, you did. Now I wonder what else you've been lying to me about."
He closed his eyes, his hand loosening its grip on your arm. After a few moments, Gus looked at you again. "You may not believe me, but it's the truth. I didn't know. But as soon as I found out, I dealt with the problem immediately. No more children, I made sure of it. This I promise you."
Finally letting go of your arm, he stepped back and started walking away from you. Before he could disappear into his office, you called out his name. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to face you.
"How did you deal with it?"
"Do you need to know?"
#˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ doll's fics#gus fring#gustavo fring#gus fring x reader#gustavo fring x reader#breaking bad#breaking bad fanfic#breaking bad x reader#breaking bad imagine#better call saul#better call saul fanfic#better call saul x reader#better call saul imagine#giancarlo esposito
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↳ ❝ [ignacio ‘nacho’ varga x f! reader ] ¡! ❞
✧. ┊ fluff/angst ; i love nacho sm ; headcanons
༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ PART ONE: falling in love
.ೃ࿐ you met nacho at your favourite restaurant ‘los pollos hermanos’. your friend set you up for a date, because she thought that you needed a boyfriend (she doesn’t care that he was a random guy from a gas station) she just wanted you to be happy, because all of your relationships were toxic and you were tired of being used by everyone. you didn’t want to go to this date, you just wanted to stay in your bed and watch some stupid movies. but your friend was so dear to you, so you decided to go on this dumb date.
.ೃ࿐ the date was horrible; the man was a total creep and jerk, and you felt anxious. but you had a rescue, and your hero was nacho. he was sitting at the restaurant with lalo, because he needed to do some business with the owner. he saw how uncomfortable you were, and he couldn’t stand this man, his attitude, or how he spoke to you. varga has respect for women, so he couldn’t just ignore this situation, because he would have remorse.
.ೃ࿐ after nacho told this guy ‘nicely’ to leave you alone, you felt how your muscles relaxed. you were glad that someone in this world actually cared about others, because you knew that you alone would never win with this creep. you thanked your ‘hero’ and introduced yourself, as he does the same thing. you were intrigued by his person and mostly his look, and because you had never met that attractive man, you knew that you would want to try to have something with him.
.ೃ࿐ it's been a few days since nacho gave you his phone number; you received a message from him asking if you wanted to come over to his house and probably get to know each other better. you agreed to this invitation, and you wondered if he was finally the right person to be with. maybe you have been kind of weird, but you cannot stop thinking about him. you didn’t know why; maybe you were just naive, and he is going to be another person who breaks your heart? maybe. but at this moment, you didn’t care about it.
.ೃ࿐ the little ‘date’ at his house was incredible; you couldn’t remember when you laughed as much as with him. you two were just talking about life. nacho was a great listener, and he preferred to listen to you talk about yourself, because he thought that you were more interesting than him. he was a charming but also very intelligent man, and you were glad, that he was interested in you. all your life, you have met dumb men, but somehow you were falling in love with them (even if they didn’t love you back), or maybe you never had been truly in love; it was the question you asked yourself for years.
.ೃ࿐ this fantastic date was only the beginning. you started to hang out with ignacio more and more, and your feelings for him started growing stronger. you admire everything about him, even the little things like how his nose wrinkles while he is smiling. you were in love with his smile. he admired you as well; he loved how innocent you were, and even if you were hurt by every person in your life, you still were positive, and he loved that energy.
.ೃ࿐ nacho was confused by how easily you gained his trust; of course, you didn’t know about his specific business, because he wanted to keep you safe. but he felt comfortable with you, like he could finally be himself without being judged. he never felt that with anyone; even if he had his ‘girlfriends’ it just wasn’t the same. he doesn’t need to have sex with you to want to spend time with you. to be honest, he was happy just watching you sleep on his lap or hearing how you laughed at your own jokes.
.ೃ࿐ after almost two months of your relationship, you decided to confess your feelings to nacho. you were sure, that you wanted a serious relationship with him. you also wanted ignacio to know that he was your safe place, even if you had known him for only a few months. your confession wasn’t super creative; you just kissed him, praying that he would kiss you back (of course he kissed you back; he wanted to do this a long time ago). you & nacho could never have been happier.
༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ PART TWO: ‘betray’
.ೃ࿐ your relationship with ignacio was a dream come true. he was the first man in your life to treat you like a princess, and it was nice to finally have someone you deserved. he remembers every single thing about you, even the smallest ones. you knew that you were truly in love with him; only when you were with him your eyes have this beautiful sparkle. and you knew that nacho felt the same way; he just wasn’t this kind of person who would say that he loved you every second; his actions were enough for you.
.ೃ࿐ but even in paradise, there could be troubles. it was unexpected, because you thought that you could finally be happy. but the universe has another plan for your happiness. you hadn't seen nacho for a long time, and you needed to spend time with him, but you wanted to surprise him, so you didn’t send him a message that you were coming over. you knew where his house was, because it was the place where your first date happened. with a smile on your face, you knocked on the door and waited for nacho to open, but you didn’t see a nacho. you saw a brunette girl with only a t-shirt on her; she looked like she just woke up.
“oh, who are you? where is nacho?” you asked with a shaky voice.
“i’m nacho’s girlfriend, but he isn’t at home right now. and you are?” you felt a pain in your chest, but you forced a smile anyway.
“i’m no one important; say hi to ignacio” you said, and you went back to your car. when you was sitting in your car, you just broke down into tears. you cannot believe how he was lying to you.
.ೃ࿐ when nacho came back to his house and gave jo & amber weed, he headed up to his bedroom. all he needed at this moment was to hear your voice. he had been stressed all week, and you were his therapy. but you didn’t answer any of his calls. he got back to the living room, overthinking why you don’t send him any messages; he would be happy with even the stupid ones. he looked up at amber who was calling his name to wake him up from a trance.
“some weird girl was here; she was asking for you” nacho knows immediately that she meant you, but if you were at his house, you could just text him.
“and what did you tell her?” ignacio started to feel anxious about this situation, he knew about your trust issues and everything. he just hoped that amber didn’t say something inappropriate.
“i told her that i’m your girlfriend, and she said to say hi from her” amber shrugged her shoulders and puffed on her joint. nacho’s face started to be pale. he wanted to kill amber for these words; they weren’t even a real couple. now he knew that he had messed up.
༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ PART THREE: happy again.
.ೃ࿐ it was a few weeks after your meeting with amber. you were heartbroken. you cannot understand why every single person you felt safe with needs to hurt you. you thought that nacho was your soulmate, but you were just his casual, that was what you were thinking. but nacho loved you, even if he didn’t say it out loud. he needed you. the weeks without you, were a nightmare. he couldn’t focus on work, he wasn’t happy at all. lalo saw the change in nacho’s behavior, but he didn’t comment on it, even if he wanted to; they were here to work, not exactly to complain about privacy problems.
.ೃ࿐ nacho couldn’t just sit there and act like nothing happened; he needed to explain himself and tell you about everything he was hiding from you. he doesn’t expect that you would forgive him; you would be his only love anyway. he also wanted to see you; he missed your laugh and smile; he missed everything about you. so after work, he heads over to your house.
.ೃ࿐ when you saw nacho, for a few seconds, you just stared at him. were you mad at him? definitely. but did you miss him? so bad. and that was a reason why you hugged him and put your head on his chest; you didn’t even notice that tears started to fall down on your cheeks, wetting nacho’s shirt. he hugged you back, kissing the top of your head.
.ೃ࿐ after you sat on your couch, you didn’t say anything; you were just listening to ignacio’s stories. about who is amber for him, what is his real job (because suddenly he wasn���t working with his dad) you appreciate that he was honest this time. you weren’t scared of his job, because you knew his real side — this side that he was showing only in front of you. after hearing all of his explanations, you were no longer mad or sad. you loved this man, and you were happy, that he wanted to fight for your relationship.
.ೃ࿐ all you said to him was ‘thank you’. the rest of the night you spent making up every second you didn’t spend with ignacio. you were happy that everything was finally alright and that you could be happy again, with the only man you wanted in your life. with nacho.
.ೃ࿐
“i love you, cariño, only you” ignacio said, kissing your temple.
“i love you ignacio”
the end.
thank you for attention! i hope you liked this headcanons, it was so fun to write this!
#better call saul#breaking bad#nacho varga#ignacio nacho varga#ignacio varga#lalo salamanca#howard hamlin#bcs art#better call saul imagine#imagine#saul goodman#jesse pinkman#fluff#angst#headcanon#x female reader#ignacio varga x reader#breaking bad imagine
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♥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.
#lalo salamanca x reader#lalo salamanca#better call saul#lalo x reader#lalo salamanca imagine#better call saul imagine
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Lalo Salamanca relationship HCs <333
a/n
i was just thinking that there aren’t enough Lalo head canons so this is my jab at writing some of my own :)
- first of all, Lalo is a massive gift-giver
- like fully expect him to surprise you with something stupid expensive that you’d almost feel bad excepting
- his gifts are always thoughtful though, and he would never buy something for you without being sure it would be something you’d love
- i know this man has a whole ass pinterest board with ideas for gift for you
- his favourite part is just watching your face light up when he gives you something he knows you’ll love
- he is also really into physical touch
- whether it be him just putting his hand on the small of your back while you walk or cupping your chin
- he doesnt go over board in public, but in private-
- essentially he never takes his hands off you in private
- he always wants to remind you he’s there
- Lalo understands that his lifestyle can be dangerous and he never wants you to feel frightened by him
- thats why he seems obsessed with the little details, its because he want you to be as happy with him as possible
- he is sort of old school and wants to do everything right, so he literally tries to woo you
- definitely would show up on your doorstep with a bouquet of roses for you
- more than anything, he wants you to be happy
- dont forget, though, he is extremely protective
- to the point where he would quite literally kill for you
- if he felt like you were threatened, he would go crazy, doing everything he can to protect you
- also, he would do anything to make things go well for you
- say maybe you got a bad grade on a paper, but you were doing great on everything else in that class and you were worried it would affect your final grade
- Lalo would deadasss show up to your professors house
- remember the scene when he was interrogating jimmy about what happened in the desert?
- yeah. he would scare the absolute shit out of them all the while with a huge smile on his face.
- maybe throw in some information about them that there’s no way he could have known
- “oh, and hows your daughter, Chloe? honour roll, wow. you and Cheryl must be so proud, and with Jacob getting an A on his STEM fair project.”
- of course he has people watching their every move lmfao
- “be careful, do the right thing.” he would say finally, his face completely void of emotion.
- your teacher would be scared shitless, needless to say.
- when your teacher approached you after class and told you he made a mistake, you would be over the moon
- “i knew you would do it, cariño,” he’d say, ruffling your hair
- but it was him all along.
- you’d probably never find out, but thats the way he wants it to be
- he loves you more then anything, so dont ever take him for granted.
#lalo salamanca#lalo salamanca x reader#better call saul#lalo salamanca imagine#lalo salamanca imagines#lalo salamanca headcanons#lalo salamanca head canon#better call saul imagines#better call saul imagine#better call saul headcanons#better call saul headcanon#saul goodman#kim wexler#jimmy mcgill
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Missing Persons - Yandere!Gustavo Fring x fem!reader
requested by: @ourjovialpoetrystudent & @paigerzz
summary: after being kidnapped by Gus, you see some disturbing news on television.
warnings: kidnapping, pregnancy/baby trapping, manipulation
You woke up with no recollection of what happened to you. Your head throbbed with a pain worse than a headache, worse than dehydration. You were currently on a cushy bed, hands and feet zip-tied, and a bandana shoved in your mouth.
“Ah, you are finally awake. Welcome home.”
“Gus? Where the hell am I and where the hell are Walt and Jesse?” you seethed after he pulled the bandana from your mouth.
“They’re fine. Making more product. You being here ensures their safety. It’s a win-win for everyone involved,” Gus reassured in his ever-stoic tone.
“And how am I winning, exactly?” you inquired, attempting to wiggle your arms out of the zip tie.
“You are living here, with me. In time, I will release you from your bounds. Trust me, things are better this way.”
You sighed, thinking about how you much you missed both your real family and your makeshift family. You, Walter and Jesse were an odd group, but you enjoyed every minute of working with them. You also really, really enjoyed the money. As a formerly broke college student, your old chemistry teacher calling you up for help manufacturing meth with your old burnout high school friend was a blessing in disguise.
You knew the risks of the business, and even though you were raking in stacks, you still attended college and worked your old low-paying job to avoid suspicion. It also meant that you were worked to the bone pretty much every day.
“Will I ever see anyone I love again?” you finally asked, after thinking about how the hell you’d ended up here.
“You will learn to love me,” Gus stated simply, avoiding your gaze and exiting the room.
—
It had been seven months since you’d been kidnapped and six since Gus had freed you from the zip ties, rope knots and metal cuffs completely.
Soft jazz music drifted from the kitchen to where you sat on the living room couch as Gus cooked dinner. You softly smiled, looking down at your slight baby bump. The nurse who visited weekly (and got paid heftily to look the other way) said you were about ten weeks in.
You grasped around for the television remote, tired of reading as much as you did. Gus still didn’t allow you to use a phone or computer, but you had been given TV privileges after Gus found out you were pregnant.
Some dumb game show was on when the TV came on, so you switched around channels until you hit channel 13. KRQE, the Albuquerque local news.
“Recent developments in the disappearance of UNM student (y/n) (y/l/n) points to foul play. Albuquerque police chief Ray Schultz stated that ‘evidence found at the scene has failed to provide us with any substantial leads, but we will not give up the search for Miss (y/l/n).’ You all remember the story: in February of this year, (y/n) (y/l/n) was reported missing from her dormitory. So far, no suspects have been named and few clues remain. We take you now to a special announcement from Los Pollos Hermanos Owner and Co-Founder, Gustavo Fring—“
Your blood ran cold. The news station had talked to Gus about your disappearance? And they still hadn’t found you? The only legitimate connection between the two of you is when you were awarded the scholarship Gus had founded at your school in his former associate’s name. You listened on.
“—last year, I awarded the Max Arciniega Memorial Scholarship to Miss (y/l/n). She was no doubt one of this city’s brightest young minds, and I am disappointed to hear there have not been any new leads. This is why I am gifting a donation of fifty thousand dollars to the Albuquerque Missing Persons Fund in hopes that more developments can be made in both (y/n)’s case and the cases of hundreds more like her.’”
You quickly snapped the television off, focusing on the sound of your breathing.
“Do you want green beans or carrots with the soup?” Gus asked from the kitchen.
You responded in an almost tearful voice. It was the combination of the news and your hormones, definitely.
“(y/n), is everything okay?” Gus asked, rounding the corner and sitting next to you on the couch.
“NO! Everything is not okay! You donated money to the people trying to find me! Who does that? I miss my family, my real family, and Walt and Jesse,” you cried, causing Gus to wrap his arms around you. You angrily shook him off.
“So me and this baby—“ he began, laying his hand gently on your stomach, “—are not your real family?”
“I-I guess so, but—“
“You guess so? Or do you mean it? Because you know what I am capable of doing to your former co-workers. Your family. Anyone you love,” he stated in his even-toned voice.
Suddenly, you realized you had never been as safe as you thought you were. Gus had lulled you into a false sense of security, even copulated with you to produce your child. You missed everything you had from your old life, and Gus had only tricked you into believing a child could fill that void.
#gus fring x reader#gus fring imagine#better call saul x reader#better call saul imagine#breaking bad x reader#breaking bad imagine#yandere gus fring#yandere breaking bad
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Imagine after co-showering, Lalo asks you to wake him up in an hour by sitting on his face.
#Lalo Salamanca#Better Call Saul#BCS#imagine#smut#minors do not interact#facesitting.#oral.#face sitting.#car sex.#reader insert#villain#Eduardo Salamanca#Tony Dalton#Breaking Bad#BRBA#BRBABCS#Breaking Bad franchise#Breaking Bad imagine#Better Call Saul imagine#Lalo Salamanca imagine#Tony Dalton imagine#villain imagine#minors do not follow#minors don’t interact#minors don’t follow#minors DNI#minors DNF#MDNI#MDNF
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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.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
#lalo salamanca x reader#bcs lalo#better call saul#tony dalton#lalo x reader#lalo salamanca#better call saul imagine#better call saul fanfic#lalo salamanca/reader#breaking bad
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can i request nsfw saul goodman x gender neutral reader? I’m thinking the reader is his assistant or something like that. It can be a story or headcanons it’s up to you. Thanks! ❤️
gonna do hcs bc i wanted to make sure to get this done for u 😘
you could have the most impeccable resume in the world or you could have "pwease hire me 🥺" scribbled in crayon on a mcdonald's napkin. if saul thinks you're hot, you're hired.
yes, he's going to try to make moves. yes, they're going to be cringe.
in true slippin' jimmy fashion i see him having a lot of "accidents" on the job to try to get what he wants
"oh noooo im so sorry i spilled coffee all over your brand new shirt! clumsy me :(" *ogles your chest all day*
*bumps into you while he's carrying a comically large stack of papers* "aw man! help me pick these up, will ya? gotta make sure we get these in order." *"accidentally" brushes your ass while reaching behind you*
call him a pervert/dirty old man after he tries something. he's into it.
i can see this becoming a fun dynamic where you'd tease back >:3c wearing VERY risqué outfits to work and always making sure to have one extra button undone, swaying your hips a little extra as you walk. "oopsie i dropped my pen! lemme just stick my entire ass in your face bend over and pick it up 😏"
one day you come in wearing a particularly slutty outfit and sit on his desk to discuss a case. he'd be staring up at your exposed skin for long enough that eventually he'd get fed up with the formalities and shoot you straight.
"look, kid, let's cut the bullshit. are we doing this or not?"
"doing what, mr. goodman? i have nooo idea what you're talking about."
"come on, yes you do," he'd stand up from his desk and put his hands on your hips, "walking in here dressed like that, climbing on my desk and practically giving me a lap dance? that's what we call 'leading the witness', sweetheart."
and then y'all would fuck nasty in his office during breaks 😌
he loves doing it on/at his desk. his absolute favorite is when you're bent over the top of it and he's taking you from behind.
definitely an exhibitionist. his office is soundproof but i bet he'd love to flirt with the idea of getting caught. ESPECIALLY if you're being a brat.
"oh, you wanna act up right now? maybe i should just turn on the intercom and let the good people of albuquerque hear what a whore you really are."
he will ABSOLUTELY tease you under the desk in front of clients because he likes seeing you squirm.
he's either really lovey dovey with aftercare (cuddling, smooching your face, petting your hair, telling you how good you were) or he's immediately back in business mode.
you'd be slumped over drooling on his desk with his cum leaking out of you and he just taps you on the shoulder. "hey, space cadet, when you get back down from orbit, you think you can put your pants back on? we got a line of people waiting outside."
#(saul after tearing your hole apart) get back to work mr. squidward#saul goodman x reader#saul goodman smut#saul goodman imagine#saul goodman headcanons#jimmy mcgill x reader#jimmy mcgill smut#jimmy mcgill imagine#jimmy mcgill headcanons#brba#bcs#breaking bad#better call saul#breaking bad x reader#breaking bad smut#breaking bad imagine#breaking bad headcanons#better call saul x reader#better call saul smut#better call saul imagine#better call saul headcanons#paigerzz#ask
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Nacho Varga Confessing His Feelings To You (With A First Kiss) Would Include...
Request: Omg I hope you feel better soon, this sucks so bad :(( oh ALSO question👀 on the nacho post you wrote you were gonna split the hcs into two sets so does that mean we're gonna have more of him at some point??? Because Let. Me Tell. You. Your Nacho hcs were like a literally masterpiece, I genuinely was not expecting to click the read more and be blown away like this WOW. Anyway, just I'd love to read more Nacho from you in the future if you feel like it, your writing is so lovely!
That’s so so kind and sweet and lovely of you :’) Thank you!!! I’m so so glad you enjoyed them, literally Nacho is my sweet boi so it’s so much fun to do!! <3
(I do not own Better Call Saul or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @lousolversons.)
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°
Nacho, baby, my poor boy, my rotten soldier, my sweet cheese, I love you so much you deserve the world and everything good in it and so does your Pappi ily king :(
I mean, Nacho (king) is under constant surveillance at all times, 24/7, so getting even within a breath of you without either Fring or one of the Salamancas catching wind of it is pretty much near impossible. Bless his heart, is he going to try though.
He’s tried to leave little notes to you, although its a dangerous game to play and even more perilous line to balance upon: throwing them around the trashcans in the hopes that you’ll see them after picking up your morning coffee at ‘Los Pollos Hermanos’, and before Gus has left his office for the first round inspection of the day. He hands out extra wads of frumpled, obviously well pored over and assiduously crumpled envelopes for Mike to deliver at your doorstep, or leave crammed through your letter box, hidden in plain sight among the rest of the bills and mailers. He leaves notes on the back of Saul’s folded and fray-edged business cards when he slides over to his back office at the nail salon, roping the ‘lawyer’ into playing ‘piggy in the middle’ for your flirtatious little secret back and forth. It earns him a few disgruntled murmurs and the pointed finger wagging in his face telling him off for playing the ‘pathetic school crush card’ when he’s already been roped into the dangerous chess game of cartel business, but Saul does it anyway because ‘he’s a romantic at heart’. Plus, deep down inside (even if his sad doe side eye at a very despondent looking Nacho gives it away), he does want to see the kid happy.
But none of this is enough; Nacho can’t play this game of whispers in the dark anymore. Keeping all this love locked up within him is poisoning his soul. He can’t linger at home anymore, pacing around the shadowed outskirts of his house and wringing his hands with grief, a pale comparison of himself: a ghost haunting himself with his own failures. He feels like his head is about to shatter into a million pieces if he hears the women in the next room over change the television channel one more time. He’s one step away from ruination, as he slides his back down the wall and crumples onto the floor overlooking the thick tangles of brambles past the casement windows of his dining room. Because as much as their company keeps the void from swallowing him whole, they’re not you. They’re not you. They’re not his heart. He feels like he’s bleeding out from every pore, feels it choking out from his eyes as he wipes the wetness away from the edges of his devastated eyes and clasps his hands behind his head. He takes a deep sniffle, and looks up to the heavens, racking his head to find any conceivable way to get through this alive.
He has to take the chance, he finally decides after months and months of restless nights spent lying bright eyed and awake in bed, just staring up and burning holes through the ceiling. He wants his chance to live, he wants to live, not just to survive anymore. The next morning, he takes one last look at his fake ID as he tucks it back into his safe for later, before walking out the door. His hands shake with every step; he checks behind his back every five steps or so in a final scan to make sure he’s not being followed, before he swallows his fear and gets ready to take a step towards the life he’s dying for, no matter if fate may spit in his face and toss him aside with a discarding hand. He slides into his car, pulling out his mobile and calling Mike to clue him into the fact that over the last day or two he’s noticed Lalo Salamanca has made contact with you, and so an extra pair of eyes watching your movements couldn’t hurt security.
To his surprise, the heavy weight of guilt that plagues Mike���s conscience wins out, and he agrees to one night of ‘surveillance’, ‘and I mean one night only, kid. Just to make sure Salamanca hasn’t drawn Y/n into their little plot against Fring.’ He chooses the time and place, of course, but the dingy little abandoned plot the once vibrant and full of life playground rests on isn’t the worst spot in the outskirts of Albuquerque to end up at.
And that is how Nacho Varga finds himself leaning uncomfortably timid against the hood of his car, foot anxiously spurring up the dust. His arms clench as his muscles spasm across his chest, fingers near tearing the skin away as he breathes out heavily in anticipation. He’s not used to being so out in the open, as he glances around the burning desert skies; he’s not used to being so vulnerable, but god would he do it for you over and over and over again. He nearly falls to his knees in relief when your car rolls up to stop just before a flood filled ditch in the ground and you clamber out of the driver’s side with a confused smile lighting your face at the sight of his drenched face.
‘I thought you weren’t going to show up’, he starts as he scratches behind his neck. He looks like a rabbit caught in the headlights, about to run away with his tail tucked between his legs at the first sign of hesitancy or disagreement from you.
‘And miss an opportunity to be babysat for the night by the Ignacio Varga?’ You laugh at how bashful he looks before continuing, ‘Mike said you were so anxious to meet me that you were near blubbering on the phone.’
‘Yeah, he would say that.’ He’s looking westward out towards the far stretch of the golden hazed horizon as he replies sardonically, but he’s still smiling through the words as the two of you, as if drawn by some invisible red band of fate, head over to sit on the quite crooked rusted swing set. You sigh as you take your seat. ‘I hear you’re supposed to watch me for the night. Is that seriously all we can get?’
He blinks slowly, exhaustion set in his bloodshot eyes, before he closes them wearily for a moment. ‘For now, I promise’, he whispers out through tightly pursed lips after a few moments thought. ‘I promise.... But it’s enough - it’s more than enough. It’s everything, okay? This is everything to me.’ He looks so serious as he turns to stare at you tensely through the chained ropes that run past his neck that you can’t help but reach through the barred gap and squeeze his hand. He refuses to let go, never once breaking his gaze from you as he places your intertwined fingers down onto his kneecap as delicate as one might hold the fresh bloom of a spring petal.
The two of you end up kicking your feet across the sand and talking far through the night, not stopping even as the sky begins to burn a mulberry purple and the stars begin to break through the streaks of haloed light that shroud his eyes that glow with ecstasy. He realises, for the first time since his mother had died, he’s spent the whole time smiling.
You catch him glancing down to your lips every few sentences or so, but they always flick right back up to your widening eyes with the sweetest joy in them. It was if his soul was finally being allowed to unlock itself; all the beauty furled up inside of him blooming out through every crevice until it trails around him and roots itself around his body like a desert rose finally beginning to thrive through the drought. Until there’s nothing left of him but the thought, the prayer, the touch of you.
He comes to a breaking point; to the pass of no return, and he can’t hold himself back anymore. So he just leans out over his seat while you’re talking and kisses you between the ropes. For him, for a moment, the world and all it’s vexations seem to stop, and the softness of true life seems to seep in. He focuses in on the small details, trying to etch every single thing he can feel into the recesses of his brain so he can play it on repeat till his dying day: the way his nose is pressed up, squashed against your flushing cheek. How soft, how pliant your lips are despite your surprise, and how tenderly he brushes his bottom lip against your own and feels it set its corners in fire. How cold the tears running down the side of his nose are, despite how alight he is inside. How his breath can’t seem to escape past the gasps of his throat: too busy half-moaning and half-whimpering against your open mouth until you swallow them with your needy lips.
He gasps as you pull away from him to look up tentatively at his closed eyes, and for a moment you think he’s about to pass out with how intensely his face is screwed shut. He just swallows thickly, before surprising you and stomping up and leaving the swing seat thundering in his wake. He’s so flustered, and furious with himself for giving in so easily to something that he knows will only end in heartbreak and exploitation for you: how could he? How could he do anything but get up and leave, to get as far away from you as possible?
Yet you surprise him by skidding to a halt in front of him and cupping his cheeks, bringing him back down to earth by titling his chin down to look at you. You reach up to meet his lips again, and bless his heart, he just lets go in one big sigh and nods with that serious frown in his face when you teasingly whisper against his lips if he was seriously that flustered just by kissing you.
And his hands are shaking from where they cup round to rest against your sides, because he knows this is it. A rose can’t grow without a thorn within its stem, and his will be the death of him. But he doesn’t care. He just couldn’t care less, because while it’s a risky love, Nacho Varga would choose again and again to give all of himself away for you.
#better call saul#nacho varga#nacho varga imagine#better call saul imagine#michael mando#nacho varga x reader#ignacio varga#nacho varga headcanons#better call saul headcanons#ignacio varga imagine#ignacio varga x reader#ignacio varga headcanons#nacho better call saul#nacho better call saul imagine#nacho bcs#nacho varga fluff#nacho varga angst#bcs#bcs imagine#bcs headcanons#lalo salamanca#jimmy mcgill#saul goodman#gus fring#mike ehrmantraut
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send nsfw petitions, don't be afraid 😭
#bcs x reader#better call saul x reader#better call saul imagine#better call saul imagines#breaking bad x reader#nacho varga x reader#better call saul smut#tuco salamanca#tuco salamanca x reader#smut
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Thinking about better call saul if the action took place in france just because I wanted to see them in cunty robes lmao. More thoughts under the cut!
Obviously the action and the whole premise of bcs/brba wouldn't work in france (legal system aside, the whole cartel and walter white storyline would have to suffer major changes due to social security and the mexican cartel well. not existing here stricto sensu). But let's talk about the real Important Stuff : their names
I think Howard Hamlin would work well as Edouard Hamelin. He looses the cool HH initials yes, but it works really well as a genuine french name imo, and Howard/Edouard are pretty close phonetically
Chuck could still be called Charles without any realism issue, but he'd be nicknamed Charlie rather than Chuck because that's what a french person would go for... nicknames don't work the same, yeah
Kimberly Wexler and James McGill, I have no idea lmao. James when translated becomes Jacques, but it's such a boomerish uncool name that I cannot resolve myself to call my boy like that. It's also one generation too old. Jimmy being born in '60 could technically be called Jacques, but it'd be old-fashioned, as it's a name mostly given to the kids of the decade that came before him. McGill is an irish name, so something funny could be making Jimmy a breton with a funky last name like Gall/LeGall ? That's hilarious to me. But who knows.
Saul Goodman is a pun, so this is even harder for me to conceptualize. Saul's marketing would definitely not work in france at all, as no one would realistically hire a lawyer with a puny name and such chaotic displays (+ I think ads for legal démarchage are illegal mind you). However, let's have a crack at it. It would have to be a pun based off an expression similar to "it's all good man", or implying something positive and familiar... I need to think on that one.
#saul goodman#jimmy mcgill#howard hamlin#kim wexler#better call saul#bcs#breaking bad#brba#french au#my art#fanart#please help if you wanna participate to their naming...... im struggling as you can see#what i love about bcs is how deeply american it is but im just imagining this for fun lol. and also for the outfits#cause come on. any profession immediately becomes better with a Special Outfit involved#i should write about the robes too.... i have headcanons about the cast....#so much to say!!!!
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albuquerque if the pistol walter white put under his chin in episode 1 had a round in the chamber
#imagine a world where walter white was found in his little underwear with his brains out in the pilot#brba#breaking bad#walter white#exposure tags#brbabcs#bcs#jesse pinkman#saul goodman#jimmy mcgill#better call saul#gus fring#mike ehrmantraut#breaking bad meme#brba bcs
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