#SKSK PART 2 MAYBE!? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hausofmamadas · 7 months ago

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OHHHHHPUTTAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (affectionate) the way i came this👌close to paying someone to legit strap me to a gurney so i didn’t quote this whole ass thing line for line BC GOTDAMN, YOU WERE FUCKING ON👏ONE👏WITH THIS INSPIRED SHIT RIGHT HERE

⥈

Silence is heavy in your apartment, but you know he is here, Alejandro, you can sense it, waiting in the dark at your expense. You are not surprised you are next, not when you know how they handle deserters, when you know too much, when they are scared you might talk.

The way I saw the phrases, “you are next,” and “how they handle deserters,” and immediately just like put on my helmet, strapped myself into my iron-man-style spacesuit bc I knew that you were about to rocket launch me on a fucking journey from which I might never return and mentally, bc my mind was so blown and turned to jelly, I’m glad I had the foresight to take these precautionskdjdjdb

Removing your shoes, dropping your bag. Maybe you are just tired, maybe the doormat wasn’t that crooked, maybe the fingermarks on the handle were yours, maybe-

MAYBE THE DOORMAT WASNT THAT CROOKED FUCKIKKKKKKKKKK DUDE THAT IS SO OMINOUS AND SINISTER like I am just marveling at how you’ve sown the tension and dread and how you’ve managed to convey how high the stakes are in a matter of like 2 fuckin paragraphs like do you even understand the SKILL THAT FUFKINT TAKES CABRONA????????

‘’ You know I couldn’t. ‘’ Alejandro sits on your sofa, his back against the cushion, your cat purring on his lap. ‘’ Such a pretty thing like you… ‘’

I mean, this part just– like, okay I have two cats, I am a very much a Cat Person, it’s not that I don’t like dogs but like you have to be a monster to not be a Dog Person, right? Like in a way, I feel like everyone is a Dog Person. BUT I get why ppl have beef with cats, they can be aloof, hard to read, they're picky, very main character syndrome, shit is always on their terms so I think it makes sense that they’re not for everyone but BY GOD IF ALEJANDRO ISNT ABSOLUTELY A FUCKING CAT PERSON, HE JUST IS, oKAY???????? HC ACCEPTED, LIVELAUGHLOVING IT

Side note ppl: the trick to getting a cat to love you is basically to neg them, like just ignore them, bc they’re expecting you to shower them with attention cuz that’s what ppl do with dogs/other cute things, so just think about what you’d do with a dog and do the exact opposite with a cat. also this is gonna sound insane but I’ve forsure hissed at cats that some might call disagreeable, aka downright petty, vicious beasts. Does it look, feel, and sound unhinged and like you should prob be institutionalized? Abso-fucking-lutely. Does it also get a hostile feral creature to know who tf’s in charge? I’ll let you do the math.

It is meant as a joke, probably, but it doesn’t make you laugh, doesn’t make your insides warm up like they used to.

SKSKSKSKSK I mean given the fact that like one of the most dangerous men in the world if only it could be the most interesting man in the world bc the Dos Equis guy seems like an undercover pacifist, I have exactly no evidence for this but it just feels right just pulled a casual B&E, is now sitting in a dark corner of your home, stroking your cat before he presumably kills you, it would make sense that you’re not getting like the warm and fuzzies under those circumstances sksk

‘’ Can I feed the cat? ‘’ … The cat is up as soon as he hears the pantry open, rubbing on your legs, wet nose meeting your ankles. You put more kibble in the bowl, just in case.

UGH THE WAY MY STOMACH DROPPPEDDOSKSKD AT THIS bc like this is exactly what I’d do if I thought I was gonna die😞😞😞😞😞😞leave extra food for the kitty

You liked his eyes, how he didn’t speak much, didn’t move air, a peacefulness to his presence, weirdly.

The way you describe this man is unparalleled, like I’ve said this 40bajillion times in other screamblogs but this is the exact type of description that makes me, “ohhhhhhh okay, yes, I see what’s happening. This man is just in your bones, in your blood, you know him without even trying.” Bc he is silence, he is smoke, he is mist, he is lethal ……. Aaaaaaaaaand ??? yet ?????? he’s somehow as calming as chamomile tea before bedtime too??? as soothing a presence as the white noise machine I use to fall asleep??? Like if i had to die but got to choose who killed me, id choose Alejandro or Hannibal for their impeccable bedside manner alone

The hours would be longer, the pay better, dirtier.

UNMMMMMMNYou fuckingisshgwgww wordsmith you????? Like I know I’m flipping out over a pretty straightforward sentence which i am but it’s specifically the use of the word dirtier that lends SO MUCH EXTRA COLOR AND TONE AND PERSONALITY AND UMPH that it wouldn’t otherwise have. And I’m just up here in these bleachers, standing up and slow clapping and putting on my microscopic reading glasses and taking microscopic notes in my microscopic detective’s pad andliterally anyone sitting near me is like “can this noisy bitch just pipe down and sit still for one goodgoddamn second so I can enjoy the show”… BABAHWWB JOKES ON YOU, I WILL NEVER REST

Everything was more hands-on, no more slowly gnawing at it, no more psychological tactics, just raw human nature, animals in cages. Most days would end with you screaming at Matt that you would quit, that this wasn’t what you had signed up for. Oh, but it is, sweetheart, do you know what happens to you if you break this contract?

OH OKAY I SEE HOW TF IT IS SO NOT ONLY ARE YOU A MASTER OF ALEJANDRO BUT YOURE SO CORRECT WITH MATT TOO??????!???????)/:$!:&:! BC ITS NOT ENOUGH TO HAVE ONE MAN DOWN TO PAT, YOU GOTTA BLUDGEON ME WITH THAT, LEFT HOOK TO MY JAW, WITH THAT ONE TWO PUNCH???? Bc yes that condescending use of sweetheart is so just so on the money for him esp trying to intimidate a woman someone

… letting the sound of his breathing ease the voices in your head, letting him trace figures on your back with his fingers until you would fall asleep.

NOOOOOWOWOWOOOWWOLSDKJFAOIWJPFOAQIWHEI3PQAWIU3HAQ[OI3RJ[AQWOIJJK YOU ACTUALLY A DIABOLICAL MF FOR THISSS

like you already had me at him soothing Reader’s trauma/deeply broken mental state, quieting the voices like an antipsychotic medication, buTJ THENNNNNNNN?????FUCKINGTHENNN????? YOU MURDER ME WITH TRACING FIGURES ON YOUR BACK TIL YOU FALL ASLEEP AREAOUSDOFIUASOEYOUFUCKKKKKINGGNNGKDSJFKSLDJFJKIDDDIDING ME WITH THIS SHIT ??????????????????????????????????

Matt wasn’t blind, though, you could see the crease between his brows when you would get on the plane together, how he had started to comment on your outfits, your hair. You could tell he was going fishing, throwing the bait, waiting to see if the wolf would bite.

No this is actually brilliant it’s making me physically ill bc Matt would 100000% be the type to hit on his own employee but not even bc he’s a regular, run-of-the-mill, predatory creep, but more to fuck with his employees bc he’s trying to sniff out if they’re together by provoking alejandro with jealousy which is just about the most laughable thing bc christ, if that isn't a man who knows how to maintain a poker face like that's his literal job so great plan Matt sfjlskjd so he can sabotage everything, and rig the entire relationship to blow with like 7000 tons of dynamite aka office goss bc that’s just how much of a vindictive girlboss he is

Don’t do this, you know what they think when people leave, what they will do. What they will make me do, he meant, and here he is.

NOOOALEJANDROOO NOT WHAT THEY’LL MAKE HIM DO!!!! BC THEY ABS WILL BC HE’S LITERALLY JUST A FUCKING TOOL, OUR POOR BBY BOI

You can tell Alejandro is somewhere far away now, deep in thought, going back to caress the cat as it snuggles back into him.

I’m sorry but i will never recover from the fact that he’s a cat person and that it’s so goddamn correct skskskjs it is actual fact now

You know the way he remembers those things so clearly as if he was hovering, watching. He had told you so one night on the jet, when Matt was fast asleep on the couch, when you were seated across from him, when you had asked him if he had dreams too, as vivid, as bloodied. I don’t, he had said, and then motioning to his temple with a finger, but it’s in here, I’m always there.

GOOODDLKJSDF;LAKJSD; I’M LEGITIAMTELY CHEWING ON MY PILLOW AND CHOKING ON MY OWN TEARS CRYINGSLDKFJ BC THIS IS SO???????? LIKE YES???????????????? Idek exactly what it is about it that moves me. I think I just love the complexity bc I feel like with assassins, it can easily become one-note where they’re just sick, twisted, emotionless sociopaths such a snoozeworthy approach imo bc there's no way to make someone interesting who has no real emotional depth But like that’s not what’s happening here, right. He’s not devoid of empathy, I think he’s just reallyreallyreally good at locking it away, like scary good. But he has his limits and doesn’t really relish the job, doesn’t get joy from killing unless it's vengeance which like lskjflskjdl; valid, who hasn't felt homicidally vengeful at least once or twice lbr

HOWMEVER, that's not to say Alejandro is like? normal? ksdjfsk it’s very clear that he is a stone cold mf. He has both seen and done some shit but I’ve always imagined him as just highly compartmentalized, so he locks away the human part to get the job done. And bc he’s so good at detaching from his own empathy, his experience of trauma is diff from most people. He’s literally trained his nervous system not to react to that kind of duress, so he doesn’t have bad dreams or flashbacks, right, BUT at the end of the day, the body keeps the score, that shit will always be knocking around like ghosts in the attic which is exactly what he's saying and i know i’m just babbling now but likelkjdf[]09i3jqj];oeFINW DUDE THE WAY YOU JUST CAPTURED SOMETHING SO SPECIFIC TAHT I HAVE GIVEN ENTIRELY TOO MUCH THOUGHT TO more in relation to my other favorite cold-but-not-psychopathic assassin, mi barroncito ofc AND LIKE NAILED IT SO WELL

After all of it, he means, now that his goal is achieved, that debts are paid and revenge is cold and done.

UGJ ofc he wouldn’t know what to do. bc It’s not like you get your bachelor’s degree whilst carrying out high-risk hits on high-profile targets at the behest of the CIA sksksk in the service of the US’s sick agenda to control everything and everyone and everywhere else even tho there’s so much shit here that needs fixing becauseeverythingsonfireandfallingapart andidkwhyigotsopoliticalwiththis

I can’t, I-

You can, of course you can.

OOHHH AND THEN YOU JUST HAD TO STICK THE LANDING TOO BY BRINGING THIS BACK AROUDN AND SOMEBODY PLS PRAY FOR ME BC IM ACTUALLY INCONSOLABLE RN AND WILL BE THINKING ABOUT THIS FIC FOR AT LEAST THE NEXT SEVERAL MANY DAYSOKAYGREATTHANKS[IJ9F[Q0I93=Isk

Of wolf and sheep

Alejandro Gillick x gn!reader, (the usual for the movies, nothing too graffic) 1793 words

a/n : another Alejandro Gillick fic??, I hear you say, and to that I respond, do you mean sexy Alejandro fic, eat my children

Tagging the besties-that-might-like-this as usual @narcolini @drabbles-mc @anunhealthydoseofangst @hausofmamadas

‘’ Are you here to kill me? ‘’

You haven’t turned on the lights yet, boots still on, waiting in the entryway. Silence is heavy in your apartment, but you know he is here, Alejandro, you can sense it, waiting in the dark at your expense. You are not surprised you are next, not when you know how they handle deserters, when you know too much, when they are scared you might talk. It makes your heart beat faster, especially because you know they hold Alejandro in a tight lease like a dog.

If he hears you he doesn’t answer, and so you keep moving, what else is there to do? Removing your shoes, dropping your bag. Maybe you are just tired, maybe the doormat wasn’t that crooked, maybe the fingermarks on the handle were yours, maybe-

‘’ You know I couldn’t. ‘’ Alejandro sits on your sofa, his back against the cushion, your cat purring on his lap. ‘’ Such a pretty thing like you… ‘’

It is meant as a joke, probably, but it doesn’t make you laugh, doesn’t make your insides warm up like they used to. All you feel now is cold, a deep, freezing cold that seeps inside your bones, and tense your shoulders, making bile pill up in your mouth.

‘’ Can I feed the cat? ‘’

A simple question, one that he nods to, one that he understands means you are not jumping on a hidden gun or making a b-line for the bedroom window. The cat is up as soon as he hears the pantry open, rubbing on your legs, wet nose meeting your ankles. You put more kibble in the bowl, just in case.

‘’ Wasn’t easy to find you. ‘’ He continues, ‘’ Montana is large, it was pretty hard to track. You could have moved countries. ‘’

‘’ Just to have you catch the flight log? ‘’ You move to the armchair in front of him, taking a seat, ‘’ I thought I did well, everyone makes mistakes. ‘’

You cross your legs, tucking your feet. He watches your every move, like a hawk, barely moving. Alejandro doesn’t look much different than he was a year ago, black still looks great on him, his arms are bigger, the beard slightly longer too.

Your first mistake was getting recruited by the CIA, a consultant they had told you, something up to your added value. Talent, Matt had called it later down the line, interrogation is what makes the world turn. In a way it did, they all talked, and you went home, cashed your check, just to fly back out whenever was needed. A few months later, you met Alejandro on base, near the Mexican border. You liked his eyes, how he didn’t speak much, didn’t move air, a peacefulness to his presence, weirdly.

And then one day your contract changed hands, no CIA, just Matt, and whoever held the chains. Your second mistake was to accept it, not to ask for a transfer, and join the team. You could sense the heaviness in the interrogation rooms now, notice the dangerous glint in Alejandro’s eyes. The hours would be longer, the pay better, dirtier. Sometimes, Alejandro would join you, make you leave the room halfway in, cutting the camera before closing the door behind you. Everything was more hands-on, no more slowly gnawing at it, no more psychological tactics, just raw human nature, animals in cages. Most days would end with you screaming at Matt that you would quit, that this wasn’t what you had signed up for. Oh, but it is, sweetheart, do you know what happens to you if you break this contract?

Threats, every day, all of it, but you couldn’t allow yourself to find out, not after Kate, not when you had heard words here and there of what had happened. You had gotten to know Alejandro better pretty quickly after that. Maybe you had eventually gained his respect by being so out of bounds every time.

Between the long hours, the endless plane rides, inevitably running into him at the motel bar, even when you thought there was no way something would come out of it, you kept finding him around every corner. And then you kissed him one night, or maybe he did, one drink too much, pressing on you, bringing you up against the bed. Your third mistake. It felt different to be able to touch him, how he would accept it, initiate it even. A breath of fresh air compared to those stuffy interrogation rooms.

You found comfort in Alejandro’s arms, in the dark of night, letting him wrap around you, letting the sound of his breathing ease the voices in your head, letting him trace figures on your back with his fingers until you would fall asleep.

No one knew, no one suspected a thing, and you liked it better that way, as you are sure he did too. Matt wasn’t blind, though, you could see the crease between his brows when you would get on the plane together, how he had started to comment on your outfits, your hair. You could tell he was going fishing, throwing the bait, waiting to see if the wolf would bite. Still, he was always your colleague first, a good one, never late, easy to work with, and then he was something else. Something you couldn’t name, something you couldn’t exactly pinpoint, not lovers, not friends.

Then one day you cracked, like an egg, somewhere in the middle, slicing you in half. A long time coming. I can’t do this anymore, you had told Alejandro, sobbing, huddling in the tub, under the water. You could feel the water in your lungs, the tightness of your chest, in your throat. I can’t breathe, I can’t, I- You don’t remember him turning off the water, gently pulling you out, but you remember him wrapping the towel around you, hugging you to warm you up, brushing your wet hair with his fingertips, rubbing the water of your back. You can, of course you can.

You remember telling him you were done, that when Matt would receive your resignation letter tomorrow you would be long gone. You owed him that, the truth, the why, before leaving and never seeing him again. You couldn’t bear the thought of him wondering, the pain it could cause of losing someone again. Don’t do this, you know what they think when people leave, what they will do.

What they will make me do, he meant, and here he is.

You let yourself sink into the pillows, feel the tightness in your throat, let your shoulders drop. Now that you are closer, you notice more grey in his hair, a sign that time hasn’t stopped for him either.

‘’ Now what? ‘’ You breathe. The air is thick, the room dark. What will you do now?

‘’ I’m not here for you. ‘’ His eyes soften, and he readjusts himself in his seat. ‘’ I killed Alarcón. I’m here because I’m done, it’s over. ‘’

I’m not here for you. I killed Alarcón. It is just Alejandro in your living room, plain, simple, soft Alejandro, no wolf, no sharp teeth, waiting to pounce. Him, here, after that, you think maybe he wants to talk about it. A shoulder to rest on, after all the stress from those years, the hard work, repressing everything down.

‘’ How do you feel? ‘’

‘’ I don’t know ‘’ His dark eyes are back on you. ‘’ Relieved, I guess. ‘’

You are still not over the fact that he is not here to kill you, only looking for comfort, friendship. Your fingers are still tightly wrapped around the armrest, and the fabric bristles as you let go.

‘’ You want a beer? ‘’ A peace offering.

‘’ Hmm. ‘’

You can tell Alejandro is somewhere far away now, deep in thought, going back to caress the cat as it snuggles back into him. He must be there, you think, where Alarcón was that day, he probably feels the gun in his hand, hears the bullets hit the ground. You know the way he remembers those things so clearly as if he was hovering, watching. He had told you so one night on the jet, when Matt was fast asleep on the couch, when you were seated across from him, when you had asked him if he had dreams too, as vivid, as bloodied. I don’t, he had said, and then motioning to his temple with a finger, but it’s in here, I’m always there.

You are alone in the kitchen for a minute and then you aren’t, turning around, knocking into him who is now in front of you, with so little space to spare. Alejandro takes the beer from your hand, gently discarding it on the countertop. You let his eyes run over your face, let him observe for whatever he is looking for. He opens his mouth and then closes it, swallowing words that he decides are not meant to be said.

‘’ I came here because I’m not sure what to do now. ‘’

After all of it, he means, now that his goal is achieved, that debts are paid and revenge is cold and done.

‘’ You’ll figure it out, you always do. ‘’

You don’t flinch when his palm reaches up, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he cups his hand around your face, cradling your jaw between his fingers. You let his fingers warm up your skin, letting the familiarity of it submerge you.

‘’ I meant it, ‘’ he whispers, ‘’ so pretty… ‘’

‘’ I think you need sleep. ‘’ You caution back. It feels overwhelming, having him here, so close, after so many months.

‘’ I guess. ‘’

He trails off, but he is not listening, there is a hunger in his eyes, and you remember all the nights he would look at you like this, soft, tender, something you could mistake for affection. The tip of his fingers caresses your hair, running down the side of your neck, feeling your pulse underneath his touch. He knocks out of it after a few seconds, letting his hand rest on your shoulder instead.

There is a seriousness in his eyes, an int of doubt, something different.

‘’ I know what I need. I’m going to Bogotá, and I want you to come with me. ‘’

I need you to, he means, you’ll be safe with me. You feel as if the wind has been knocked out of you, the blood pumping in between your ears is loud and heavy, you can’t hear yourself think.

I can’t, I-

You can, of course you can.

#screamblog #sicario #alejandro x reader #diosmio #this one really did a number on my psyche #like i don't think i've ever typed such a long wall of text on one of these as I did here #when i was psychoanalyzing assassin characters that arent boring ass psychopaths

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golbrocklovely · 2 years ago

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I’ve worked in retail for years (including walmart) and I’ve never heard of having too many items for self checkout??? Even at a smaller store…that’s just weird. I would’ve been put off about it too.

I can understand having a bad day, but I never took it out on anyone. Especially customers. So like, what’s his deal lol? Maybe I’m a tad bit dramatic but it sounds like he’s like ….targeting you? Idk, if it was me I would complain if it happened again. My anxiety would never allow me back into the store.

that's the thing, there wasn't a sign saying "you can only have X amount of items" or anything like that. i think, highkey, he was just kinda being a dick to me for some reason. i don't think he recognized me bc i've only ever interacted with him these two times, but… maybe???

in these type of instances, i try my best to give the benefit of the doubt. like, maybe he was having a shit day, maybe i was somehow holding him up from taking his break, maybe he did remember me from the last time and idk… doesn't like me bc of it. not sure tbh. but i remember our last interaction, and it wasn't like i thru a hissy-fit or something. i literally was just like "oh" and kept it moving lol

i think, like many ppl, he kinda sees the self checkout area as like "oh i have two items, might as well scan them myself" which is great and i get that. but, if i want scan my items myself, and i have a lot of items, then i'm allowed to do that.

and like i said in my rant, there was only one lane open to begin with, that also had a line. when i went to self checkout, out of the six registers, there was only 4 taken (if that) so it wasn't like i was holding up the line or something. well, at least not in that moment lol

bc i'm serious, when he said that to me, part of me wanted to be a bitch strictly bc like… he's wrong. but 9/10 times when ppl act like assholes to me, i just kinda blink at them and walk away. so the very next best thing i could do in that moment is become a problem and hold up the line (but also not really since there is five other registers ppl can go to).

i will say, it was funny at one point bc right after he said that to me, these two ladies came up and were trying to buy three cases of water bc they swore up and down that the sign said buy 2 get one 1 free. he had to call a manager over and everything and honestly it was kinda funny to see him get annoyed sksks

and i've been going to this store longer than this person has been working there. even with my social anxiety, i ain't gonna stop going bc he's a dick. if it's that bad, i'll go full karen mode. well, maybe not that badly, but like i would DEFINITELY talk to a manager bc at that point it's either personal or he's just a shitty worker.

this is gonna be a slight tangent to everything but also not.

so like i mentioned before, my family when we would go food shopping, we would buy a lot of stuff. kinda like do a whole month shopping in one trip. and the amount of times ppl would see us walk up the registers with our cart overflowing with food and just look so annoyed always confused me as a kid and still does now.

bc what is the difference (when you're a cashier) between let's say five ppl coming up with a couple items a piece, or two ppl coming up with bigger orders. like…. i just don't get it. it always felt like the cashiers i interacted with liked the smaller item orders over the bigger ones when… why does it matter? you're still standing there for a couple hours at a time. when i worked registers in the past, i didn't give a shit and a half if someone had one item or twenty. i get it if maybe a huge line is forming behind them, but even then, it's not my responsibility to open up a new line. ppl gotta wait. sorry, it's just how it is.

#ask #personal

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phantom-god-suki · 5 years ago

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Discontentment

I wrote this for my good friend but oml I ENJOYED WRITING THIS! Nes, I hope you love this as much as I do XD

Ricardo x Fem! Reader: Jealously

“Y/N, are you okay?” You hear a soft voice call out your name. You turn around to see Noel standing there with a watering can in his hand. He kneels down next to you and starts to water the flowers.

“I noticed that you seem down as of lately.” He stops and looks at you.

“You’ve gotten better at reading me! That’s awesome haha,” You laugh at how much Noel has changed since you first met him. “But yeah. A certain ASSHOLE has been working constantly. I haven’t even seen him in the past week. ‘I love you Y/N, don’t leave me Y/N.’ I literally stayed here because of him and now he won’t even show his face. UGH BULLSHIT.” You suck your teeth and slam your fist against the floor.

“Work? But Master Mikael hasn’t given us work in some time.” Noel states as he continues to water the flowers.

“HE...WHAT?? OH SO NOW HE IS NOT HOME A N D HE IS LYING. OH THAT BITCH IS AS GOOD AS DEAD WHEN I SEE HIM. I’M SO DONE WITH HIS BS. YOU KNOW WHAT,” You stand up and wave goodbye to Noel. “I’M GOING TO SHOWER AND GO INTO TOWN TO PARTYYY IT UP!” You stomp away and go to your room to get clothes. You walk to the bathroom and see Mikael.

“Heyyy Mika!” You wave at him.

“Please refrain from calling me that.” Mikael glares at you and then looks away, as if somehow phased by the nickname you came up for him.

“Yeah yeah whatever. Anyways, do you know where Ricardo is? Noel said that you haven’t given them a job for a while.”

“I haven’t seen him at all which is quite confusing, since he is always with you.” Mikael shrugs and walks away.

“Thanks for nothing~ See ya later!” You sigh and walk into the bathroom. You undress and get into the bath.

“Ahhh that feels amazing! But I wonder…” You think to yourself out loud. “Is Ricardo cheating on me…” A whole bunch of absurd ideas start to race through your mind as you start rubbing soap all over your body. You down at your chest and smile. ‘Doesn’t matter. He can’t find someone as amazing and beautiful as me. Whatever, I’ll just have to find someone in the meantime to keep me entertained.’ You finish washing up and put on your crop top and booty shorts. You walk over to the mirror and smack your ass.

“Damn I look good!” You wink at yourself and start to head to town. It’s dark outside so you walk with caution around the brightly lit scene. You see a bar that Ricardo has told you about and walk in. As soon as you walk in, everyone stops to stare at you. You grin and walk over to the bartender.

“Hey honey~ do me a favor and start me off with an Aperol Spritz. I want to make sure I’m ready for the crazy night I’m about to have.” The bartender grins at you and walks away. You sit there taking in the scenery and sudden feel a hand wrap around your waist.

“Hey there pretty lady. What are you doing alone here tonight all alone?” A young man with gorgeous black hair leans closer to you. “I could take you somewhere...more private. If you know what I mean~” He whispers in your ear. You bite your lip and lean into his touch.

“And where would that be?” Your breath starts to get heavier as he pushes you against him even harder.

“My...room.” You look up at him and grin. As you open your mouth to answer him, you hear a familiar voice call your name.

“Y/N! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE! AND WITH ANOTHER MAN!? THAT’S IT YOU’RE COMING WITH ME!” Ricardo yells. “AND AS FOR YOU!” He raises his gun and shoots the man straight through the head. He waves his gun around frantically and picks you up over his shoulder.

“RICARDO! LET ME GO!! I WAS JUST ABOUT TO HAVE FUN~” You punch his back but he continues to hold you with a tight grip.

“Oh don’t worry, I’LL SHOW YOU FUN” Ricardo slaps your ass to shut you up and continues to walk to the estate. Once you arrive, he rushes you straight to your shared bedroom and throws you on the bed.

“So you want to go around town just throwing your body at anyone huh? I didn’t know I was dating a whore.” He glares at you while taking off his clothes. He gets on top of you and starts taking off your shirt.

“Um excuse me but stop!” You slap his hand away and you can feel him becoming angrier. “ You were the ONE who abandoned me for a week! Are you kidding me? You just disappeared without a word. I missed the shit out of you and became bored. So I decided to have some fun on my own.”

“Did you fuck anyone?” He starts squeezing your thigh tightly out of rage.

“Lucky for you I didn’t...but I would have if you didn’t show up.” You roll your eyes and look down to see his throbbing massive cock. It starts to twitch when he realizes that you are starting at it. You lick your lips and bring your fingers to your mouth.

“Fine, since you want to be a little whore, then I’ll show you how a whore should behave.” You smile at his words and he reaches down to kiss your tender lips and removes your clothing.

“Oh kitten, you weren’t wearing a bra? How naughty. Did you do this just for me?” Ricardo whispers and grabs your tits, squeezing them with more force than usual.

“Shut up, it’s more comfortable this way. Plus if that man at the bar-”

“LOOKS like someone forgot that I own every…” He bites your neck. “Single…” He leaves bite marks on your neck. “Inch…” He travels down to your breasts and sucks a bit before lifting up his head to make eye contact with you. “Of your precious body.” He stops and kisses your nipples softly.

“Baby...please don’t…” He pauses to kiss you again. “Try to cheat on me again. I don’t know what I would do if you did.” You look at him with sad eyes and laugh in his face.

“No promises.” You grin and stick your tongue out at him. He twitches his eye and suddenly picks you up and bends you over his lap. He lifts his hand and spanks your behind.

“Mhm fuck baby… This ass of yours is so sexy.” Ricardo bites his lip and spanks you again. You wince in pain and moan loudly. “Yes love, moan louder so that everyone can hear you.” He spanks you once again and you squeeze his thigh.

“Rica...rdo...okay I-I promise. I’m yours and only yours.” You can already feel something warm trickle down your thigh. He sits you up and plops you down on his thigh. You immediately start to grind against him. His amazingly muscular thigh feels so good against your soaking wet pussy. He grabs your waist and moves you faster and harder against his thigh. You jerk your head back as you moan as loud as you can.

“I-Im going to cum…” You dig your nails into his back. He slows you down and you cum all over his thigh. “Fuck baby you feel so good. Your wet slit and sexy body is making me so hard. I- BABE!?” Ricardo stares at your sleeping body and sighs. “Maybe I went too overboard…” He cleans up your body and lays down next to you. “Sorry I was gone for so long baby...I had to take care of someone before I could settle down with you.” Ricardo kisses your forehead and holds your hand. You squeeze his hand and whisper to him.

“Next time...I’ll pleasure you.”

“I might just take you up on that offer kitten~” Ricardo manages to mutter before falling asleep, holding you in his arms.

AHA DSUIABHBQ THAT WAS FUN OML! RICARDO IS SO SEXY!! HOPE YOU LOVE IT! -Suki❤️

#nightmare harem #ricardo nightmare harem #SKSK PART 2 MAYBE!?#fanfic #fanfiction #spank

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jeonggukkiepabo · 4 years ago

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HWASAN [MYG] 🐉

SUMMARY: Yoongi, the only dragon hybrid to exist, has done a lot to escape the life he has been put into. He killed those who held him just to run away, to have the chance of living a life he’s been longing to have for years. Even after switching continents, they seem to be after him, hunting him. When he meets you, he knows you’re one of them and there’s only one way to survive - to kill you.

GENRE: smut 🐉 angst 🐉 action 🐉 fluff-ish

WORD COUNT: 11k

WARNINGS: enemies to lovers, mentions of murder and blood, violence, Yoongi rides a motorbike, cursing, blowjobs, fingering, Yoongi has claws and fangs, temperature play, his cum tastes different, choking, fighting for dominance, unprotected sex, breeding kink, Yoongi is stubborn but soft, fox hybrid!taehyung and i’m so soft for him

AUTHOR’S NOTE: It is finally here, my part of The Hybrid Collab! I can’t even tell you how excited I am to post this after months of planning. I think everyone agrees with me that the thought of Dragon!Yoongi is too much to handle. I had this idea in my mind for as long as Daechwita has been around now-it just took me a while to write it sksks.

I’d also love to thank @spicykoreantatertots & @yeojaa for betaing this fic and helping me with it. @kimtaehyunq Mags, tysm for designing this beautiful banner for me! Also; thanks for listening to my rambling and keeping up with me and this fic. It was so much fun cooperating your Taehyung into it, I love him. :(

NOW LET’S GET STARTED.

Running was all Yoongi had done for months now. Running away from those he killed. Running away from those who wanted him to get killed. Running away from those that held him ever since he was little, that taught him how to fight and kill. Running away from those that made him a murderer. Running away from Kkangpae.

Yoongi hates running (especially running away), but he had no other choice. He had to leave his home country behind and never go back, finding himself a new place to live instead. He should feel guilty, he regretted all his actions but by now, he only feels relief.

Kkangpae treated him like a fucking animal, like a worthless pet. He wasn’t treated like any human being should be treated; he didn’t even have a real bed.

All because Yoongi was a dragon hybrid, the rarest hybrid species on earth.

The lack of volcanoes in South Korea were the reason why Yoongi was highly valuable to the Kkangpae, because active volcanoes were one of the requirements for dragons to get born. As far as Yoongi knows, there’s only one volcano in South Korea: Ch’uga-ryong, a volcano that hasn’t been active for around five hundred years.

Around that time, the dragon species became extinct due to a natural disaster that Yoongi didn’t know anything about - because he was still sleeping peacefully in his comfortable egg, buried deep beneath the lava.

Yoongi’s mother, a purebred dragon, died during the catastrophe, and she was not able to protect the egg. Because of this, his body was not able to develop the way it should have. His egg was found hundreds of years later by scientists. They used newly invented technology to develop the preserved egg and mix human genes into it. Shortly after that process was complete, Yoongi hatched.

Yoongi has never met another dragon hybrid in his life. Maybe he was the only one in existence, maybe other scientists created them the same way as he was created. Even if they existed, they’re probably held the same way he was held - captured by some sort of underground gang and treated like shit.

Yoongi hated it, hated the way he wasn’t even a real creature, that he was built instead of born and that he was sold to Kkangpae to be their guard dog. Even though he was a dragon, well he was supposed to be a dragon, those fucking scientists pulled some weird Jurassic Park shit on him. Did humans even believe in dragons? To most of them he was nothing more than a myth, some creature from a fairytale.

Yoongi almost screams in frustration as his memories hit him once again. The night he decided to end it all, to kill everyone he finds comes back into his vision almost every time he closes his eyes. Because hell, he was a great fighter, the best assassin anyone could ever train and he never failed an attempt of murder. Ever since then, his nights are based on either nightmares or hectic rides on his bike, this is why he lives on coffee and energy drinks even though they're too sweet for his taste, they keep him awake. If he stops to sleep, the memories, the dreams will return in full force.

During that time, Yoongi tries not to stop in motels because:

1. he can’t afford them

2. he shouldn’t waste time on sleep if he can spend them driving down the highway on his motorcycle instead, getting as much distance between South Korea and himself as quickly as possible.

As a dragon hybrid, Yoongi has several magic powers that typical hybrids don’t have, simply because his body doesn’t work like other hybrid bodies; he is born a dragon. Most of his genetics are dragon-like even though he’s now trapped inside a mostly human body. The only features that give off his inhuman origin are his eyes, green and purple irises, swirling around like lava, never resting. Some scales are splattered around his skin, but almost all of them are well hidden under his clothes - and Yoongi is glad that he can hide that feature because of the weird looks he would get if he had scales on his face or hands; no thanks.

That, and the fact that he can extend claws from his “normal” fingernails, which is quite useful in fights… and during other situations.

One of Yoongi’s biggest advantages is the ability of changing his body temperature to the extreme - whether it’s hot or cold. If he wanted to burn you, he could; if he wanted to feel cold as ice, he could do that as well. He used that power a lot back when he was a little dragon, not wanting to be touched by humans that didn’t have his trust - not that any human has ever earned his trust - so he easily increased his body temperature until those who touched him left with blisters all over their hands.

People always think that dragons have the ability to spit fire, but apparently dragon hybrids can't. All Yoongi was able to do was spit acidic saliva with the ability to burn through all kinds of fabric and material (he even melted a spoon once because he hated the soup he had to eat) and whenever he was really angry, smoke would blow right out of his nostrils.

Kkangpae should’ve known better than to train him until he was invincible. Until he was stronger than them, until he was able to ruin them one by one.

It didn’t even take Yoongi an entire night to kill those who had held him his entire life, which made him Kkangpae’s enemy number one. He obviously didn’t get to kill each member, but he managed to ruin the leftovers by killing their boss, his wife and brother. The golden three, no longer golden anymore.

Which meant one thing: running away. Leaving South Korea with nothing but his motorcycle and never, ever, coming back. Yoongi doesn’t know if he will ever get to settle down somewhere or even where to go next, he just knows that he will never be able to come back to where he originated.

He has been in the United States for almost three months now, after secretly hitching a ride on a very disgusting container ship. In the beginning, he didn’t know where his adventure would bring him, but he has seen some beautiful places here. Yoongi even visits some of the biggest volcanoes in the country (he hates the volcanic mountains in Alaska, though, because the air outside is colder than what he is used to and Yoongi hates the feeling of icy air after a nice long nap in the comfortable lava) to spend some time relaxing his sore muscles. He just left his favorite volcano ever, the Yellowstone in the Rocky Mountains, a week ago and he really misses napping there, but if Kkangpae would ever look for him in the US, volcanoes would probably be an obvious spot to check for a dragon hybrid.

Now Yoongi is here in a cute little suburb that he doesn't even know the name of. Small droplets of rain are blocking the view from his motorcycle helmet and his gas tank is on low, so he decides to stop by the next available gas station and grab some hot coffee on his way to the bordering highway.

Yoongi didn't bring a crazy amount of baggage from Korea, because it's obviously difficult to ride a motorbike with an abundance of luggage. Instead he sticks to a simple black backpack with some clothes, money that he stole from Kkangpae, his phone, and an old notebook he uses to scribble down places he’s heard of during his trip.

Even though the gas station is quite empty, Yoongi acts out of instinct and pulls his cap lower into his face, hiding his shimmering eyes and starts to fuel his tank, looking around to check if someone has recognized him. Nobody catches his attention, until a girl on another motorbike stops to get some gas as well. Yoongi scrunches his nose, thinking that his bike was the only one in a suburb like this - because to be honest, he spent a lot of money on it, on spraying it matte black (instead of the bright teal it had before he ran away) and a bigger engine. It isn’t one of the luxurious Korean brands, but a MV Agusta F4 LH44, an expensive ass bike that Kkangpae gave him for jobs out of their area.

This girl though, she rides a fucking Kawasaki Ninja, one of the fastest - and most expensive - bikes out there. He only has eyes for her machine, but once she pulls off her helmet letting her messy hair fall over her back and turns around to the gas pump, he inhales sharply.

She’s Korean. She’s fucking Korean and she rides a fucking expensive bike.

To Yoongi it can only mean one thing: Kkangpae. But, would they really send a girl after him, a powerful dragon hybrid? Probably not. The girl hums some unknown melody as she fuels her bike, looking around as well. Yoongi makes sure that she doesn’t catch a glimpse of his eyes as he turns around to pay.

But the girl is right behind him, he can feel her body temperature on his sensitive skin and as he walks past her, he can smell something vaguely familiar. That’s when he decides to pull off a classic Joe Goldberg, waiting for the girl some streets down the road and follows her as inconspicuously as possible.

The girl comes to a quicker halt than Yoongi is expecting - simply because he didn’t like to stop more often than necessary -, but he’s quick to park his bike and follow the girl into the establishment she walks in. Bread, Sweets and Treats, says the small sign and Yoongi cringes. Who would come up with such a name? Is the owner inspired by this one Korean band that has a track with a similar name? Yoongi shakes his head to get rid of the distracting thought, instead putting his cap back on and stepping into the café.

She is nowhere to be seen, probably sitting in some booth further back, but as soon as Yoongi attempts to stride through the café, the girl behind the counter smiles at him.

“Hi, I’m Yura! What can I get you?”

He really wants to reply with “nothing.” But the smell of coffee lingers in his nose and who would Yoongi be to decline such a chance? “Just one regular coffee, black, please.”

He pays quickly, just slapping some notes onto the counter as he looks around once more.

“There’s a few empty tables in the back, go and sit down, relax a bit and I will be there with your coffee as soon as possible!”

That finally gives Yoongi the chance he’s been waiting for, strolling through the café to find the mysterious girl and once he has an eye on her, he sits down three tables to her right. She’s on her phone, taking sips of some hot beverage but takes nervous looks around the café from time to time and Yoongi wonders if she has seen him as well.

“Your coffee!” The barista smiles at Yoongi and places the hot mug in front of him. “Are you sure that you don’t want anything else? You look quite tired and I bet some pastries can help with that!”

Yoongi tries to crack a smile, but he knows people are most likely afraid once they lock eyes with him, but it seems like that his eyes aren’t anything that scares the friendly girl as he mutters a soft “I’m fine, thank you.”

He dares to take another look to his left, a silent gasp leaving his lips. There, on her right arm, is a tattoo of a dragon crawling up to her elbow. The symbol of Kkangpae, inked right into her skin. Yoongi’s assumptions were correct, she is one of those bastards and the only reason she’s here must be to kill him. But Yoongi isn’t one to have that, he’ll be quicker.

Patience is key, he reminds himself as he slowly sips his coffee, keeping an eye on that girl as he thinks about that one night again.

Things happen quickly then, the girl stands up and leaves to go to the restroom, but as soon as Yoongi plans to follow her, an elderly lady goes in there as well.

He sighs, pulling off his cap just to run his hands through his hair before quickly putting it back on, covering his eyes as much as possible. The hunter's knife in his boots feels heavy, ready to be used, but Yoongi doesn’t want to make a scene right here. It would cause more trouble than being effective - and he couldn’t find out more about Kkangpae’s plans in the middle of a café. On the other hand, Yoongi can’t risk losing her, that’s why he acts out of instinct once she comes back from the bathroom.

She makes her way past his table, Yoongi stands up quickly to follow her - and once she’s near the exit, he jumps onto her, slamming his full body weight against her smaller frame and smashes her into one of the tables, the wood breaking under their combined weights. His claws are out and he can feel his skin burning up during his rage as he snarls a low, “What’s your name? What are you doing here and where are the others?” at her.

She must be a tough one though, because even if she’s scared, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she glares up at him. “Why would I tell someone that attacks me in the middle of a coffee shop my name? Fuck, get off of me, you freak! What even are you?”

Yoongi smirks, pushing her even further into the remains of the table. “Min Yoongi, I think I ruined a bit of your family business.”

Now, her eyes widen in shock as she tries to get out of his burning grip around her throat once more. “You don’t have to kill me”, she whispers. “I don’t belong to them. Not anymore. After you killed my father and my uncle, I knew it would be the best to get out of it as well, trust me!”

Yoongi laughs, head thrown back - and it looks kind of funny, because there’s a little cloud of smoke coming out of his nose - before looking back down at her. “I’ve learned one thing in my life and that’s to never trust anyone. Especially not when they’re wearing that cute little dragon tattoo on their arm. Sorry, but I guess you have to die too.”

An annoyingly high-pitched scream causes Yoongi to lose his guard for one second, giving the girl the chance she needs to break free from his grip. "Stop it, please," one of the baristas pleads, trying to calm some of the nervous customers down. Yoongi looks at him for a second, smirking as he sees the obvious features only mouse hybrids have.

The dragon hybrid snarls, showing off some of his sharper teeth as he grips his target again. "Don't you dare make a scene, mousey. It's been a while since I had one of your ancestors for lunch, you know? And I haven't eaten in quite some time." Then, he turns around to the girl. "I'm sorry love, but this situation is getting a bit out of hand." He uses his foot on her chest to keep her in place as he grabs his favorite knife that's been sitting in his boot the entire trip, just waiting to be finally used.

Fate isn't on Yoongi's side today as another one of the baristas yells at him, running past some other tables to get to where Yoongi is standing. Yoongi groans, pressing the heel of his foot deeper into the girl's chest. "You stay there, little one, okay?" She doesn't answer, just grits her teeth to compensate for the ache in her body. The mouse hybrid freezes on the spot, staring at the scene in front of him. Then, Yoongi turns around to the new voice. "What do you want now, I'm busy and I really need to go after this, so would you let me do my job, please?" The irritation isn’t easy to miss, but Yoongi's patience has always been rather low and he prefers to get over this before the rest of Kkangpae arrives as well. "I don't belong to them anymore, fucking hell!" The girl yells once more, nails digging into Yoongi's jeans-clad calf.

“I’m the manager,” the other barista slash manager says, “You have two seconds before I call the police. Get the hell –“ Yoongi gets ready to leave yet another snarky remark as a rather lean looking guy pushes her behind his frame.

“I’ve heard rumors about your existence, I was skeptical about it – but anything is possible from where you came from.”

Yoongi’s eyes scan the stranger, thinking about how high his chances are to win another fight when he realizes that he’s one of the rarest hybrid breeds, not a regular fox but a canadian marble fox - which are often held for their beautiful fur. He has been living with one of those in the Kkangpae mansion, the fox hybrid was more likely the opposite of Yoongi’s reason to be there: Yoongi was being held to fight, the fox was a lapdog, bought to look pretty in the leader's wife's lap.

The man in front of him has similar ears, grey with black tips and his amber eyes remind him of the old fox as well. Yoongi tilts his head in visible confusion as he locks eyes with the man.

“I’m not one of them, my name’s Y/N! I’ve heard that you killed my father, my uncle and his wife so I used the chance and ran off, I didn’t know I’d see you here as well, Yoongi! Please, just fucking listen!”, the girl, Y/N, pleads with tears brimming in her eyes.

“Yoongi, is it? Listen. You can’t do that here, I know what you did to those who held you, but this isn’t the right place!”, the fox hybrid chimes in again. Yoongi’s head moves up and down, he doesn’t know who he should listen to, but he came for this one mission: killing Y/N.

“Shut up, all of you!” He screams out of frustration, the knife starting to melt in his hands because of the unbearable heat radiating from his body. Yoongi drops the now useless weapon to the floor, the weight of his boot no longer suffocating the girl beneath him. She coughs a few times, trying to suck in as much oxygen as possible, trying to relax her wildly beating heart, but Yoongi doesn’t care about her right now. Instead, he locks eyes with the fox hybrid. “Who are you?” His voice is low, quiet, actually, because Yoongi doesn’t trust it enough to speak up.

“I’m from the Kim lineage”, the hybrid says with raised hands, probably to prove that he’s no danger to Yoongi. “Trust me, I know a lot about our individual histories.” Yoongi breathes through his nose, another tiny cloud of smoke leaving his nostrils as he finally steps back from Y/N. “Kim, as in Kim Jiho? That can’t be it. You’re related to him?”

He eyes the other man skeptically, not really sure whether to believe him or not. He doesn’t even look at Y/N who’s been standing but not running away yet.

The other hybrid's answer shocks Yoongi, his eyes widening as he sees the frown on his face, combined with soft ears flopping down sadly. "That's my father."

The woman behind the Kim hybrid whispers something into his ear, causing the man to nod as he looks back at Yoongi, but aIso at Y/N. "Let's just take this outside, we can talk out there."

Yoongi's eyes flicker between the hybrid and Y/N, then he nods slowly whilst pressing out a low "fine". Just as Y/N starts walking past him he grabs her wrist and pulls her closer, whispering into her ear. "If you try to run off, I'll be right behind you, ready to rip your guts out." As if to prove his point, Yoongi heats his skin up once again, burning Y/N's wrist before smiling sweetly at her and following the fox hybrid out of the café.

The hybrid, who introduces himself as Kim Taehyung, offers refuge to Yoongi and Y/N at his secret bunker in the nearby mountains. He uses the space to hide during emergencies. It isn’t anything special, it is a literal fox burrow with furniture which totally confirms the impression Yoongi has on Taehyung’s style: simple, yet elegant.

Yoongi is even allowed to eat some of Taehyung’s self grown variety of exotic fruits that he is extremely proud of. He smugly offers a dragon fruit to Yoongi who only raises his brows, a challenging glint to his eyes as he grabs some of the lychees instead and pops them into his mouth. “But you’re supposed to peel them!”, Taehyung screeches, his furry ears twitching in disgust, but Yoongi only smiles and eats one more, swallowing the entire fruit just to see Taehyung’s reaction once more.

“My saliva is acidic, I don’t need to peel them. I’ve been eating worse things, trust me.”

After Taehyung shows Yoongi and Y/N around the bunker (it even included a shower and a functional bedroom), he decides to call it a night and leave the two alone (not without them promising Taehyung to not kill each other, he would “check in the next day” to make sure of it) and heads over to his own little cabin nearby. Once Taehyung leaves, Yoongi pulls Y/N onto the worn out couch to actually sit down and talk.

“Okay, so you say you’re running away from Kkangpae too, right? Why?” Yoongi raises the eyebrow that was cut through by that ugly scar.

Y/N swallows, trying not to stare at Yoongi’s distracting eyes. “I was born into it, I didn’t choose that life, Yoongi. Just like you I was just a part of their game. I’ve seen people die since I was a kid. I’ve never been allowed to have friends or sleep somewhere else because my father was too ‘worried’ something could happen to me. That’s why one of his coaches trained me in different kinds of martial arts from the time I was able to walk.”

She looks at the hybrid again, shaking her head in disgust.

“Of course I knew what was going on with them, why they were behaving like that and I knew that my father and uncle were the leaders, so there wasn’t any chance for me to get away from it. I tried, really, but once I found out that they got killed... I didn’t know you did it, because the second I heard it, I ran. You can trust me, Yoongi, even though my last name might be occupied by all your prejudices.”

Yoongi listens the entire time, not interrupting her as he tries to understand what she was saying. “I’ve seen you when you were a teen”, he mumbles. “I age differently than humans, but I think you were just around 15 years old when you kicked that one security guy in the balls. That was kind of badass, not gonna lie,” Yoongi smirks at her, eyes glistering mischievously. Y/N rolls her eyes at that. “He liked my dress way too much. One more reason not to wear those weird things at all.” Yoongi hums. “I bet you look great in those, but I do like your leather pants too. Anyways, what leads you to the US? It’s not the most… unusual choice to run away to. Wouldn't a country like Greece or Egypt be better? They must be looking after you too. I tried hiding in volcanoes but it was too obvious.”

The girl shrugs her shoulders, shivering now that the evening starts to settle in. “I don’t know, to be honest. All those countries sound nice and fun, but I don’t speak their language. America is huge, too. I wasn’t planning on staying in this town, but now that I met you, I mean… We could run off together, maybe? I can fight and I know how to use a gun and I’ve heard of your… powers, too. You might know how they fight, but I know how they think. Us teaming up would be useful.” She shuffles around, unsure about how Yoongi would react.

“Are you cold?”

“What?”

This wasn’t the reaction Y/N was waiting for. “Are you cold? You’re shivering. I’ve never used my powers in this way, but maybe I could help you,”

Yoongi shrugs as he slowly touches her arm and attempts to heat up his own skin in a way that wouldn’t hurt the girl. Y/N flinches at first, but the temperature heating up her body is too comfortable to deny.

“Oh god, this is amazing,” she leans her head against the headrest and closes her eyes. “I haven’t been this comfortable in a while.”

Yoongi nods, he understands that. The bunker is the first place he might be able to actually sleep. “I’ve been sleeping in volcanoes, like I said, but I haven’t really slept since I left the last one. Not that anyone could come in it and try to kill me, but after two days of sleeping and soaking in lava, it got boring.”

“I wouldn’t even mind bathing in lava as long as it’s this comfortable”, Y/N whispers as she drifts off into a deep slumber.

Once she’s asleep, Yoongi removes his hand slowly and looks around to find a comforter to throw over her relaxed body. Then he decides that he finally deserves the luxury of a real shower, with real hot water (that he heats up even more), before snuggling into the bed and closing his eyes for at least a few hours.

The next few days went by like nothing, Yoongi and Y/N weren’t really ready to go outside and face the world, so they stay inside the bunker to plan their getaway. They go out twice, practicing their fighting skills and helping Taehyung to pick some fruits (because Yoongi felt bad, he ate the entire mango stash in one night).

This evening, Yoongi prepares some food that he finds in the cupboards, some pasta and a canned sauce that he heats up in his hands, not bothering to put it onto the stove. He’s at the point where he decides that Y/N deserves his trust, that she won’t kill him and he’s pleasantly surprised to have someone like that in his life.

Y/N steps out of the shower, towel wrapping around her delicate body as Yoongi plates the food on the makeshift table.

“I swear to you, my muscles are still sore from your training yesterday!” She huffs as she searches her backpack for fresh clothes. “Can I grab one of your shirts? One of us has to do laundry tomorrow, I’m going to ask Taehyung how he’s doing it when he’s out here. But for now, I need something comfortable because I can’t squeeze my tired body in leather pants and a tight tank. So, please, Yoongi?” Y/N smiles her sweetest smile, causing Yoongi to groan out, defeated.

“And what am I supposed to wear tomorrow? My old stinky one that I sweat into during training?” He raises the scarred eyebrow at her as he sits down in front of his own plate, starting to eat already.

Y/N pouts as she grabs one of his last clean shirts and runs into the bathroom. When she comes back, she’s wearing that shirt - and only that shirt. Yoongi almost drops his fork.

It’s not like those movies where the girlfriend wears her boyfriend’s shirt and it looks cute and stops above her knee, no. Yoongi isn’t the tallest, Y/N’s actually almost the same height as him - with more curves than Yoongi's lanky body. Instead, his ‘oversized’ shirt ends just a bit below her ass. Yoongi would bet that if she bends down, her entire peach would be on full view for him.

“Aren’t you going to wear any pants?” Yoongi mutters. To be honest, he hopes she won’t opt for pants because… he’s just a man and even his dragon instincts think about sex from time to time.

“Is it bothering you?” Y/N asks as she plops down besides him, starting to eat right away as well.

There isn’t much space between them and Yoongi can see her hardening nipples under the shirt that once belonged to him. He shrugs. “Nah, but don’t come ask me to heat you up just because you’re freezing your ass off again.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “Would it bother you? Heating me up?”

“Probably.”

Y/N pouts and turns away slightly after she throws a blanket over her legs, continuing to eat her pasta. “How long are we going to stay here? We planned to leave for Italy, but when? It’s getting colder each day and I don’t like that winter’s coming.”

Yoongi stands up to go and wash his plate, not sure about the answer to Y/N’s question.

“There’s nothing holding us here. We could go and leave tomorrow, but we could also stay for a few more days, try to get enough sleep and take advantage of this bunker. I mean, would we get the chance to have such a perfect hideout again? Let’s use this opportunity for as long as we can.”

Inside, Yoongi knows that he wasn’t ready to leave just yet. He wasn’t ready to face the world, not ready to be on the run again. “How much money did you take with you? Wherever we decide to stop by next, we should think about a way to earn money.”

“I left with my card and packed some money from the family’s safe before I realized it isn’t that smart to run away with my credit card that could be tracked. I withdrew some more money and gave the card to a homeless lady,” Y/N shrugs as she dries the plate Yoongi has washed before placing it back into the cupboard. “I think I still have around 10 grand in my backpack, I really don’t know. I didn’t need a lot of money, most of it was needed for gas and coffee.”

“You’ve been travelling with 10 thousand in cash? That’s kinda stupid. What are going to do if someone tries to rob you? Ugh,” Yoongi can feel the smoke leaving his nostril as he paces through the room, feeling restless out of sudden.

Y/N giggles. “Are you worried? Min Yoongi, the baddest dragon alive is worried about a girl that grew up with Kkangpae and definitely knows how to protect herself.”

Yoongi scrunches his nose, already feeling his skin heat up - but not in the magical way he’s used to. Nope. Min Yoongi is being shy.

“You are worried! How cute! Are you sure you’re a dragon and not just a little lizard? One of those that live in the fields and kids go and pick them up to have them as a pet in some shoeboxes?” Y/N steps closer, gently bumping her hip against Yoongi’s before patting his head with a giggle. “Who knew that the bad boy that’s one of the most powerful human beings is getting soft over a girl.”

Enough’s enough. Even though Yoongi never had the chance to fall in love, to be in a relationship or build a real friendship, he has had more than enough experience in other things, having shared ruts and heats with countless other hybrids that has some sort of place in Kkangpae. He turns around, his instincts taking over him.

Puffing out his chest a bit, standing completely straight so he will hover over Y/N, Yoongi steps forward, breath fanning over her face. “Did you just call me a fucking lizard?”

His eyes are going wild right now, the purple and green swirling around even faster than the usual soft flow of colors. He growls, stretching his neck from side to side as he starts to feel his fangs growing, soon poking out of his lips.

Y/N smirks, tilting her head to the side, looking up innocently at the fuming dragon in front of her. “Too bad you can’t change forms, huh?” She doesn’t even get to add another snarky comment to her sentence as Yoongi’s body presses her against the rough wall, his shirt sliding up her body as he cages her in.

“You’re acting like an ungrateful bitch, Y/N. Even got to wear my shirt like you’re someone that actually means something to me, yet you’re being bratty and annoying. I don’t hesitate to get rid of people that act up on me, you should know that by now.”

His hot breath fans her face and Y/N tries her best not to squirm under his intense glare. Then, she smirks. “You wouldn’t kill me.”

“Mhhm, you’re right, I wouldn’t. Still, you’re being bratty and I don’t appreciate such behavior.” Yoongi looks at Y/N, eyes still intimidating her.

“What are you going to do about it? Spank me?” She laughs, knowing that situations like this only happen in those new adult novels, not during an escape.

“I should, but maybe you won’t be able to keep up with it. In the end, you’re just human whilst I’m nothing more than a cute little lizard, huh?” Yoongi looks at his hands, claws forming where his fingernails once were. “I don’t remember lizards being able to hurt you, though. Wanna try?” His smirk is dangerous, but so alluring that Y/N just nods, not knowing what the night will bring for her.

Once they move to the makeshift bedroom, Y/N’s knees start to get weak. Yoongi feels the change in her aura, smirking to himself as he stops right behind her, hot breath blowing on her neck.

“Is there anything you don’t like, Bambi?” His fangs gently poke the juncture of her neck, not enough to actually draw blood but to make her twist under his touch.

“I don’t think so, I mean… I guess I like… Yoongi, can you stop that for a second, please?” She turns around in his grip, cheeks blushing and lips parted. Yoongi cooes.

“This turned on already? Can’t even form sentences? Alright, I’ll sit down then and you’re going to tell me what I’m allowed to do to you,” Yoongi smirks as he slumps on the mattress, manspreading to give Y/N the best view of the bulge in his pants.

Y/N rolls her eyes and sinks down between his legs, a dangerous smirk now lingering on her lips. “Maybe I’ll just show you what I like and you can take over from that? Figured you’d be one that prefers to be in control. I’ll go by the traffic light system if I’m not okay with anything - or I’ll kick you in the balls, so don’t worry.”

Yoongi doesn’t even bother to answer as Y/N presses her mouth against his clothed dick to kiss it lightly. His hips buck slightly as she wraps her lips around him and starts sucking on the side of his bulge through the fabric. She smiles as his cock grows harder under her lips, but Yoongi is quick to pull her off. “I really appreciate your effort but are you down there to drool all over my pants or are you going to suck me off? I promise you my dick is human, not one of a lizard.”

She pouts, playing with the hem of his joggers. “Where’s the fun in that? But fine,” Y/N rolls her eyes and pulls them down slowly, her nails gently scratching the skin of his stomach while doing so. As the waistband of his pants go past his cock, she is not even surprised that Yoongi isn’t wearing any boxers underneath them.

“Predictable,” she mutters mostly to herself, but Yoongi grabs a bunch of her hair to push Y/N back on his, this time naked, length.

It costs her a lot of self control to not retort him with a snarky remark, as she continues to remove his pants slowly. Yoongi growls, but she just smiles up at him and grabs his heavy dick to stroke it two, three times. Then, she leans down to gently lick his balls, still not using her mouth on his dick.

Yoongi twists and groans, trying his hardest not to grab her and shove his entire length down her throat until it’s sore, but this woman is testing his patience. One of his hands is still on the back of her head whilst he uses the other one to lean back a little, just to get a better view.

“Are you done playing now, Petal?” Yoongi’s grip on Y/N’s hair tightens, his claws digging into her head - and Y/N can’t keep in the silent mewl that leaves her lips at the burning pleasure. “Be a good girl now, will you?” His voice is almost alluring her to do as he pleases, but Y/N wouldn’t be herself if she follows his orders.

Their eyes meet and Yoongi has to admit that she looks perfect. Even though she isn’t wearing any make up right now, hair still damp from her shower and eyes already clouded with lust, he wouldn’t want any other person to be in her position right now.

She stares at his cock again, her own panties dampening at the thought of having it inside her. Y/N’s tongue pokes out to play with his tip, tasting him and getting a feeling for the heaviness on her tongue as Yoongi pushes her down in one swift motion. A gurgling sound escapes from Y/N’s throat, but she does her best to swallow his huge length, using her fist to stroke whatever can’t fit.

“Oh, shit,” Yoongi groans and throws his head back while trying to keep his eyes on Y/N at the same time. Her eyes are closed, lips beautifully parted around his cock and saliva already drips down her chin, even though Yoongi hasn’t even really moved by now. “You’ll let me fuck your mouth, right, angel?”

She nods as good as she can with a mouth full of dick, looking up at the hybrid in front of her. Yoongi hisses as he pushes his hips forward, losing himself in the feeling quickly as his thrusts get faster and sloppier. The sight of Y/N not only sucking him off but also wearing his shirt sends him close to edge quickly.

Y/N pulls off to take a deep breath and to wink at Yoongi before sinking down again.

"God, you're so good, Petal. Wanted to fuck that bratty mouth for so long now. Imagine your father seeing you like that, he'd die from the shock, his little princess on her knees to please the housedragon."

She moans at his words, fingers sIiding under her, Yoongi's, shirt, but the man is quick to grab both of her hands to cross them behind her head. He grabs her wrists as he plunges himself down her throat once more before he spills his hot load into her mouth with a loud growl a bit of smoke that comes out of his nostrils.

As Y/N pulls off, her eyes show the disbelief she must be feeling. "You… You taste like…"

"Cinnamon?", Yoongi smirks, his eye color now much calmer than before now that his inner dragon is somewhat sated - for now.

“Yes, I was expecting anything, a double penis, maybe some weird forms or scales, but not cinnamon flavoured cum. Not that I mind, though. Tastes like that gum I used to have when I was still in school.”

Yoongi hums, stepping out of his pants now that they won’t be used anyways, his shirt following too.

“Now it’s your turn, petal. Let me see you,” he gestures with his fingertip, swirling in a motion for her to turn around, finally giving Yoongi the view that he had been curious about ever since Y/N came out of the bathroom with his shirt on. She isn’t wearing one of those expensive lingeries that are nothing but lace, no. Expensive, yes. A sporty looking string is disappearing between her round buttcheeks, the rather thick waistband of it covered with the Versace logo. Yoongi hums, that’s definitely what he had expected Y/N to wear, it looks comfortable but still seductive.

Y/N smirks over her shoulder, lifting the hem of her shirt teasingly but letting it fall down again to cover her butt. “Maybe you need privileges to undress me, Min. I mean, I’m somewhat of royal blood, aren’t I?” She gracefully sinks down onto his lap, arms wrapping around his neck.

A chuckle leaves Yoongi’s lips as he tilts his head. “Do you want me to call you princess now? Because I didn’t know you were into that. Does babygirl also do the thing for you? I bet your blood’s blue too, I’d love to see that.”

Yoongi traces his finger tip over her thigh, his claw teasing the soft skin there and Y/N’s eyes follow it curiously. He presses down a bit, just enough to break the first layer of skin and draw a little bit of blood - enough to prove both of them that Y/N’s blood isn’t blue. “Oh, too bad, not a real princess,” Yoongi pouts.

Y/n raises her eyebrow. “Did you just cut me?”

“It’s not a cut, just a little… poke?” Yoongi wipes over the blood before bringing his finger to his lips and licking the drop off with a smirk. “Doesn’t taste royal to me, rather muddy. But maybe that’s what you get from living with Kkangpae for so long. Guess mine tastes like dirt too.”

Y/N laughs, not even shocked about the fact that Yoongi seems to be bothered about her blood on his tongue. The melodic sound of her laugh makes Yoongi smile too, an actual, honest smile that shows all his teeth and fangs, causing Y/N to coo. “And suddenly you don’t look scary anymore.”

Her eyes wander down his body, inspecting every inch, maybe to find something more dragon-like, maybe to just remember the skinship for much longer. “Oh,” She breathes out, “You’ve got scales.”

Yoongi looks down at his stomach where some scales are shimmering in the bedroom light. “Yes, I do have scales. I’m a dragon, remember?”

And to Y/N, they’re beautiful. They’re not huge, not as dry or disgusting as lizards look like, no. Those scales must come from a line of beautiful dragons. They match his eyes, shimmering purple and green whenever they hit the light. But they’re not only on his stomach, they are also winding around his sides and up his back.

Y/N’s fingers follow them as she orders Yoongi to lay down on his stomach to get a full view of them.

The scales grow larger on his shoulder blades, probably where his dragon wings imaginely would be and Y/N can’t help but kiss the rough texture. Goosebumps erupt on Yoongi’s entire body, skinship like this was never a real thing for him.

“Feels good,” he whispers into his arm, slightly ashamed. Y/N continues to pamper his skin in kisses and licks, biting the rougher areas here and there until Yoongi grows impatient and turns them around, growling playfully.

“Like I said, my turn now.”

Yoongi always has a thing for taking his time to please his partner, he isn’t one for quick fucks without foreplay. So, he kneels between Y/N’s parting legs, palms caressing the smooth skin that is covered in a few fresh cuts and old scars from practicing her fighting skills, but Yoongi definitely didn’t mind them. His shirt has moved on its own, not even covering her panties anymore but ending somewhere above her belly button by now. As soon as his fingertips glide over the curve of her hips, Y/N shudders with a quiet mewl. “Yoongi.”

“Mhm, ‘m here, you look so good, Petal,” Yoongi whispers while kissing her ankles, her calves, and the sensitive area of her inner thighs. “Truly like a flower. You know that there’s a flower called Dragon’s Breath? It’s bright red and can survive in the heat like a champ, even their leaves are red. But I don’t think it’s scent comes close to yours,” he hums in front of her clothed core, tongue poking against the wet spot on the fabric. “Bet you taste even better, Petal.”

“Yoongi, please,” Y/N whines, getting rid of the shirt by herself, the heat simmering inside her body is almost overwhelming. Yoongi looks up from the space between her legs, eyeing the swell of her breasts with a growl, muttering compliments again and again. He sits up the slightest bit to gently remove her panties - claws nowhere to be seen by now, even his fangs are gone and Yoongi’s just Yoongi, even though the arousal is visible in his eyes again.

He lies down, cock rubbing against the rough sheets causes him to hiss quietly, but his mind is somewhere else within seconds. How couldn’t he with Y/N’s soaking core in front of his face?

She can’t see his mischievous smirk as he swiftly controls the temperature of his skin, cooling down his fingertips as he slowly and teasingly traces her folds.

Y/N yelps. “Yoongi! Shit, what’s that?”

Yoongi laughs, holding up his unoccupied hand to her face, showing her how cold his fingers are by holding them against her cheek whilst the other hand works magic on her clit.

“Unbelievable. Warn me the next time,” she mutters as she sinks back into the pillows.

Yoongi’s hot breath fans the sensitive area before he broadly licks right across the flesh, enjoying the way her body jumps out of surprise again. “Oh, oops.”

Then, he finally pushes one finger in, tongue pressing right against Y/N’s clit as he starts doing what it feels like he was born to do. Yoongi eats her out with no mercy. Ignoring her squirming body and needy whines, he only concentrates on the places that bring the loudest moans out of her, massacring those until she’s close - to stop with a smug smirk.

Y/N could reach her high by just looking at his face, red and breathless, but also wet from her juices, lips glistering in the light. Two of his fingers are still inside her, teasing her G-spot just as his lips start sucking the life out of her clit again.

Y/N’s hands are buried in his chaotic mess of hair, pulling on it but also pressing him further onto her core until his tongue slips inside her as well. She doesn’t warn him, too scared of missing another orgasm, but Yoongi also doesn’t look like he’s about to stop this time, eager to pleasure the woman underneath him. Y/N screams as she reaches her high, hips bucking up from the bed, Yoongi’s head going with it, just so he can make sure that every second of her orgasm will be remembered forever.

He kitten licks her folds as she calms down; stroking her thighs, kissing her stomach while whispering praises. “Fuck,” she rasps out, her stomach still heaving heavily.

Yoongi crawls up next to her with admiration in his eyes as he leans over to kiss Y/N for the first time. She can taste herself on his tongue, but who cares? The kiss is more gentle than Y/N expects. Yoongi seems to be switching moods from hungry to loving within seconds, but that’s probably his inner dragon wanting to devour her whilst Yoongi just wants to take his time to make the night special. Y/N is the one to pull away, looking at him with dark eyes. “Get inside me, please.”

The hybrid smirks, tilting his head as he asks “How do you like it?”

“I’ll show you,” she remarks as she pushes Yoongi to lay flat on his back. She climbs into his lap and sinks down onto his cock in one abrupt motion without even bothering to tease him.

The pleasure is overwhelming; Yoongi stretches her so, so good and Y/N feels so, so warm and tight around Yoongi that he loses all of his control over his body. His eyes are bright purple now, pupils forming into slits that remind Y/N more of a snake than a dragon. His skin burns up, almost too much for her to bear, but the hissing noises Yoongi releases are enough to hold on through it.

“Fuck, sorry, wait a second,” Yoongi tries to push her off so she can cool down a little bit, but Y/N just shakes her head. She shushes him with a gentle kiss, careful of the fangs that now poke out between his lips again. “Don’t hold back, it’s not hurting me. Be yourself, Yoongi. I trust you.”

Yoongi curses under his breath as he tries his best not to move, letting Y/N adjust to his size and the circumstances of his inhumane origin. He’s never fucked a human, and even though they’re not that much different from hybrids he knew that he didn’t want to hurt her.

“It’s not only the temperature,” Yoongi groans, “I tend to bite and mark my partners. I don’t know how your body would react to it, though. I sometimes say or do things that my human side would never say.”

Y/N smiles at him, fondness blooming in her heart as she starts swaying her hips slowly, not breaking eye contact. “Like I said, Yoongi, I trust you. I’m sure that you’re inside your inner dragon, that you won’t hurt me and even if I tell you to stop; you’d be able to. Now, c’mon, don’t tell me you’re getting all shy while your dick is inside me?”

She tilts her head with a playful smile as her hands glide down Yoongi’s toned chest, teasing his perky nipples and playing with his beautiful scales. It was still hard to believe that the rarest, most powerful hybrid was right here with her, laying underneath her, sharing this moment with her.

“Now come on, Yoongi, wake up the dragon and give me what you’ve promised.”

Yoongi didn’t need to be told twice, hands landing a firm grip on Y/N’s hips as he plants his feet firmly on the mattress before quickly pistoning up inside her. Y/N cries in pleasure, but Yoongi almost doesn’t hear it, too lost in the feeling of her tight pussy around his cock. He’s still trying to be careful, keeping his claws under control so he won’t actually tear her apart.

“‘m gonna make you cum so good, Petal. So, so good.”

Then, he flips them around in one swift motion, hovering over her frame as he looks down at her like only a predator could. “Mine,” he snarls as he licks into Y/N’s mouth, hips moving slowly but so powerful that her body pushes up into the pillow with each thrust. “Say it, Petal. Say you’re mine.”

Yoongi grabs her face so she can’t break eye contact - not that she would, who could look away from such eyes? They’re hypnotizing and Y/N is sure that she will do just about anything for him right now.

“I’m yours, Yoongi. It’s just you and me right now,” she breathes out as she grabs his hair, pulling his head closer so she can connect their lips once more.

Yoongi’s hips start to stutter, his orgasm approaching, but he didn’t want it to end just yet. Of course, dragon stamina is different, but where would be the fun in that? Orgasm control and denial is a thing that Yoongi enjoys here and there, teasing himself whilst masturbating, not letting him or his partners come and delaying their pleasure for as long as he possibly can. That’s why he pulls out quickly, leaving Y/N��s core clench around nothing.

“The fuck, Yoongi?” Y/N whines and glares at the man in front of her, eyeing his sweaty body.

He laughs and presses a quick kiss to her lips before he sits back on his heels, staring at her body as well. Her chest is heaving, fine pearls of sweat dripping down the space between her breasts and her legs are slightly shaking - all of that is enough to boost Yoongi’s confidence as he quickly pushes two of his fingers inside her, pumping them at a rapid pace. His teeth - and fangs - nibble on her nipples, pulling them slightly, almost crossing the border of comfortable pain as he fingers her through her second orgasm of the night.

“Do you want to kill me?” Y/N sighs as she catches her breath, knowing that Yoongi is not done with her for tonight.

He laughs again, fangs shining in the light and tiny droplets of sweat fall out of his hair as he shakes his head. “I could, but where would be the fun in that? Or are you one of those girls that like the thrill of almost being killed? I could choke you if you’re into that.”

“Oh, I am into that, but not after orgasming two times and knowing that there will probably be two more coming. Is that one of your kinks? Choking?” She tilts her head in an adorable way - too adorable for the position she’s in right now.

“Mhhm,” Yoongi hums whilst tracing the sensitive skin on her stomach. Y/N jumps slightly, shooting Yoongi a playful glare before quickly jumping onto him. She sits down on his abdomen, leans over and closes her hands around his throat. “Do you like being choked too?”

“Can you handle me fighting back against it?” The challenge shimmers in Yoongi’s eyes, knowing that Y/N is nowhere as strong as he is, but he loves playing. He doesn’t mind if she wants to be on top, he enjoys losing control once in a while, but his dragon usually hates it, fights against it.

Y/N loosens the grip of one hand to slowly rake her fingernails down his chest, leaving visible lines. “I’ve never said no to a good fight, Yoongi.”

The hybrid growls, hands balling to fists as Y/N tightens the grip on his neck once again.

“This is so hot, you’re so hot,” He whispers, eyes closed and lost in the feeling.

Then, Y/N lines herself up with Yoongi again and sinks down slowly, gasping slightly because the stretch is still there, but it feels so good. “God, move, please move,” Yoongi rasps and who would Y/N be to deny him such a thing? She uses both of her hands to sturdy herself on his chest whilst quickly bouncing up and down his cock. The noises that Yoongi makes are music to her ears, he’s usually so quiet, but now he doesn’t even try to hide the pleasure he’s feeling.

He groans, grunts, hisses and even moans whilst his hips buckle up to meet her thrusts. “Fuck, I’m going to breed you so well. You’re mine, Y/N. Gonna be my mate, huh? Gonna carry my chicks, all beautiful and round.”

Y/N’s eyes widen at Yoongi’s confession, but she can’t deny the arousal that floods through her body with his words. “Yes, Yoongi. Fuck, yes, breed me.”

By now the biggest roar leaves Yoongi’s chest as he pushes Y/N off, to grab her hips and position her on all fours in front of him. A harsh slap lands on her ass as he pushes in again, pressing her face-down into the pillows. “I will, Petal. You could never want anyone else after being mine. Nobody else. Just me.”

His hand finds its way into her hair, wrapping it around his wrist as he pulls her head back, having her at full mercy.

They’re both a loud mess by now and Yoongi is fucking thankful for the bunker, because imagine if they’d go on like this in Taehyung’s cabin instead - the entire forest would be able to listen to them.

It’s gross and sweaty, wild and not gentle, but both of them enjoy it way too much.

Y/N can’t even warn Yoongi before her third orgasm washes through her body and the tight clench combined with her sinful moans sends Yoongi over the edge too - spilling his thick load into her with one last thrust.

“Shit,” he groans as he collapses on top of her, pressing kisses all over her neck. “You were so good, Petal.”

Y/N smiles, nuzzling back into him and closes her eyes to enjoy the comfortable post-sex silence. Yoongi hums quietly, giving the two of them time to cool down - he helps her by reducing his body temperature again -, then he pulls out. “Ew,” he mutters as his cum gushes out of her.

“Creampies are hot whilst you’re still busy with fucking, but afterwards it’s just a gross mess. Wanna take a shower?”

Y/N’s way too lazy to shower right now, she’d die for a hot bath but the bunker didn’t give her any chance to fulfill that dream, so she just nods. “Mhm, yes, but you’ve got to carry me, you big lizard.”

Yoongi furrows his eyebrows before sighing in defeat. “Guess I’ll need to show you my dragon once again.” He lifts Y/N up easily and carries her towards the bathroom, just to have her at his mercy once more. And this time, Y/N doesn’t argue about him being a true dragon.

Days and nights go by quickly whilst Yoongi and Y/N grow closer each passing minute.

They spend their days together training, teaching each other self defense tricks and talking about which places they want to travel to next.

They do sleep together now, not fighting over who will get the bed and who will have to stay on the couch. Some nights are a bit colder, which gives Yoongi the opportunity to hold Y/N close to his chest while slowly heating himself up to a comfortable temperature to sleep in. In general, you could say that Yoongi and Y/N act like a couple - though they don’t talk about their feelings right now.

Yoongi has never been in love and neither has Y/N, Kkangpae hasn't given them any chance to find a suitable partner to spend their lives with. So how would they know if love is what they are feeling?

What Yoongi does know is that he’d protect Y/N with his life - and vice versa.

Cuddling on the couch has become a thing for Y/N and Yoongi and he hates being unsure about the whole situation, he didn’t want to label them, but he is itching to know what’s going on between them. So one evening after dinner, he blurts out “Are we in a relationship? Like, are we a thing now?”

Y/N jumps slightly in Yoongi’s embrace and looks up at the hybrid, unsure. “I… don’t know? I guess you could say so, we do a lot of couple things, I mean last night when you ate my..-”

“Oh, yes, I remember. That was fun!”

Yoongi smirks at the memory of last night’s bedtime adventures, Y/N trapped underneath him, her legs wrapping around his head as he ate her out slowly and teasingly, before he just pulls her on top of himself to sit on his face. Now he has not only her pussy in front of him, but also her ass - and what kind of man would Yoongi be to not use this opportunity?

“I mean, I would… I would like to be in a relationship with you, Yoongi. I trust you, I really like you and I feel like we’ll be spending the rest of our lives together anyway,” Y/N looks at her hands and bites her lip in anticipation, fearful about the man’s answer.

“That sounds like you’re choosing to date me just because I’m the only man around you, Petal.”

He gently grabs her face, giving her no chance to break the eye contact. This time, the green in his eyes is more prominent than the purple - a rare sight, but Y/N is still in awe. “I want you to choose me because you actually like me, Y/N. Not just like, but maybe even love me. I know we haven’t known each other for a long time, there can’t be love between us for now, but I can say for myself that I am really close to loving you. I want to spend the rest of my life running away with you, not just because I have to.”

Y/N pouts, eyebrows furrowing as she looks at Yoongi. “I didn’t mean it like that, Yoongi. But if you’re asking this charmingly, yes, I’d like to date you too, you big baby.” Yoongi growls playfully, showing off his fangs - which he knows that they don’t scare Y/N at all, but he’s proud of them, so he shows them off here and there - and pressing a gentle kiss onto her lips.

Feelings change kisses. Kissing somebody that you’re now dating is even better so the new couple spends minutes kissing each other carefully and lovingly. Yoongi is just about to get Y/N on his lap as the door bursts open and an out of breath looking Taehyung stands in the living room.

“Yoongi… They’re here… Rats, but they smelled weird,” the hybrid pants as he looks at Yoongi.

The dragon just stares at Taehyung intensely, before nodding. “Thanks, man. Really. For your help, for letting us stay here, take care of yourself, okay?”

All of them know that it’s now the time for Y/N and Yoongi to leave, not coming back ever again because Kkangpae would always have their men here from now on.

“Thank you, Tae,” Y/N bows slightly with red cheeks, still embarrassed that they got caught.

“Good luck, guys.” Taehyung sends them a hurt smile, knowing that he and Yoongi could actually be friends if their lives were different, but now it was time to say goodbye so Taehyung turns around and leaves as quickly as he came.

Yoongi sighs as he stands up and starts gathering their things. “Time to pack. You’ll do the bedroom and I’ll collect our stuff from here, okay? I think the next stop will be South Africa, it’s a long trip but it’ll be worth it, Kkangpae would probably never search for us there.”

And so, they do end up in Kenya almost two weeks later, the US long forgotten as their lives go on.

The trip is actually fun, Yoongi and Y/N riding on their motorbikes - Yoongi is even allowed to ride hers for a short amount of time - taking the ferry instead of the plane and sleeping at random places in the countries they passed.

Kenya is beautiful, the temperature is perfect for Yoongi and he finally gets the glow a true dragon should have. He doesn’t look as pale anymore, random scales growing here and there on his arms and neck and Y/N has never found Yoongi to be more beautiful. He seems truly happy.

The couple even started to go out, visiting different National Parks and trying to find some volcanoes for Yoongi. Y/N knows that she could never go near an active volcano, but Yoongi swears that he needed them at least once every two months to keep his dragon alive - though Y/N thinks he wants to take a long nap in the lava again.

During their time at the Masai Mara National Reserve they met another hybrid, a rare persian cheetah by the name of Hoseok. He greets them with open arms and is friendly enough to show them around.

Hoseok also gives them a perfect description of how Yoongi would find the only active volcano in South Africa on Marion Island. That’s where the couple is right now, Y/N swimming in the turquoise water around the island whilst Yoongi takes, to no surprise, a nap in the lava.

They’re genuinely happy, living more relaxed and peaceful than ever before and once Yoongi wakes up from his nap and sees Y/N still swimming around, playing with little fish and looking as beautiful as ever, he just knows that he made the right decision. She’s the one he wants to spend his life with, have kids with and die with.

They have a good feeling that Kkangpae won’t find them here. This can be their home from now on. Though, they wouldn’t mind the chance to discover more of the earth, travel around and meet new people.

But South Korea isn’t on their list, that’s for sure.

1K notes · View notes

hausofmamadas · 2 years ago

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WOOF, again another super overdue reblog but well worth the wait bc this shit is actually golden/magic/fire in a way I totally didn’t expect from this pair specifically??? So, fucj it, let’s get into it:

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✷ A certain someone had given him enough experiences to develop a quite accurate instinct for this sort of thing.

SKSKSKS already dying at the way that Pacho just haunts Amado’s entire psyche

✷ Their bodies intertwined in complete darkness, surprisingly easy, both knowing exactly what to do, and Amado couldn’t help but wonder where Mayo got his experiences from.

I love love love this so much bc idk what it is about Mayo, possibly just the fact that he literally gives not a single fuck, but I don’t have to suspend a n y disbelief at the prospect that he’s touched tips with a gentleman, in his day, a time or two mayhaps this is why Benjamin was making eyes at him all flirty at Dina’s wedding hmmm??? Someday I will write that fic.... but I digress

✷ “How did you sleep?” That could mean two very different things, but either way his answer was the same. “Pretty good.”

NOSKSK I SLAPPED MY KEYBOARD SO HARD JUST NOW, i knocked my laptop off my lap bc Amado’s literally like, “sorry, did you mean, how did I 😴😴sleep? Or how did I 🥴🥴 sleeeeep?”

✷ But then Mayo just shrugged. “Gracias compa! If you ever need a favor, or a friend…you know where to find me.” He heard the meticulous way “friend” was pronounced, and he didn’t miss the suggestive gaze, right on the fine line between being flirtatious and blunt.

Idk why but something about Mayo being like calculated but flirty, is like a) such a hot flex and I can’t even articulate why, and b) such a mirror for Pacho bc I feel like even though they’re VERY different people, that meticulousness is something Mayo would share with Pacho y’know, like they’re both crafty mfs in business and love

✷ Those times gave him a brief illusion that the Colombian was his.

UGH OKYASISJSKSKSJSJJSSN ALREAYD KNOW IM GONNA BE SCREAMING THIS FOR THE REST OF THIS REBLOG BUT THE LONGING AND THE LOSS HERE, ALL THE ALLUSIONS TO PACHO ARE REALLY JUST— LIKE HE CANT ESCAPE IT, HE CANT HELP MAKING COMPARISONS I TRULY JUST AKSOSIW/&/8:2!

✷ In a way, that was the worst part, because he couldn’t even find a reason to be mad. How could he be mad at Pacho for not staying for a drink, when Pacho helped him to get half of the US market?

NO FORREAAAALLL THO I remmeber feeling the exact same way watching S3 and being so bummed for Amado at Pacho not wanting to go out and celebrate the big win and being so disappointed that like his homie was kinda checked out of the business by that point. It was such a bummer to watch and I’m not even in love with the man sksks maybe that’s why Amado latched onto May— er uhhhh, I mean Marta. Sorry getting my fic and my canon mixed up, which is like pretty par for the course with your writing

✷ This dark, enclosed space is perfect for sex, but terrible for smoking.

When I tell you I snorted so loud at this, like so loud my neighbors probably heard it bc how many times have we talked in the Discord about the glossy on-screen vs smelly reality of how much everyone fucking chain-smokes on this show sksk

✷ That makes perfect sense, but almost too much sense for people like them. It feels too effortless, too authentic. “Also, what other options do I have? El Señor de Los Cielos sounds cool, but lord of the sea just sounds like some dirty pirate with golden teeth.”

PFFFFFFFFTTTTJDJDJDJD NO BC IM NOW JUST PICTURING ALBERTO GUERRA AS A REGULAR FUCKIN JACK SPARROW and like I gotta be honest, the picture I have in my head is .... like I really don’t hate it? Like I weirdly feel like he could rock it being a sexy asf pirate?

✷ Mayo apparently doesn’t mind as he lights one for himself, the little spark shines on his face...

WOOOOOF god, I love this detail so much, SO gotdamn cinematic. I can see it as though I filmed it myself. Just *muah* fucking excellent prose

✷ Amado bursts out laughing at that ridiculous mental image, and the best part is that it doesn’t even look bad. Mayo as a dirty pirate? Hilarious, but not bad.

SKSKSKSKSKSKSKSKSK NO BUT I SWEAR I DIDNT READ THIS AHEAD OF TIME, I almost always comment as I read, so the fact that literallyskkdkdkdkee Amado and I had the same exact thought of like “wow, Mayo as a pirate, what a hilarious thou— well..... y’know actually.... the more I think about it, like oh actually I’d still totally hop on that dick this is kind of working for me”

✷ But this is different; it’s lighthearted and simple, even contagious, like smiling doesn’t need a reason. It makes him want to smile too.

*bangs gavel repeatedly despite the fact that the courtroom is empty except for 2 sleeping cats* OH SURE???????? LIKE SMILING DOESNT NEED A REASON ???????? SSKOSSKWJWHAODOFJWBWOQOWJQJWJ GOTDAMN imjustsofuckingsorry but i am— that is such a fucking BANGER of a line. And here, yes. You guessed it folks, we come to a scrrrrreeeeeeeching halt at our first stop, one I like to call, “So Fucking Good, I’m Mad I Didn’t Write It/My Friends Are All So Talented”

✷ There isn’t a fixed schedule, of course, that would be fucking weird, but they can always find out when is a good time for the other person, meaning business is going smoothly and no one’s trying to kill them at the moment.

I love how pencilling in a date? fuck sesh? is contingent on like whether or not other cartels are actively trying to blow them to pieces or burn their boats down, or turn them into swish cheese with a machine gun as they’re trying to make their escape boarding a plane on a private runway. And like I can tooooootally relate me, who can’t be bothered to get together with a friend for coffee if I didn’t get enough sleep the night before so yeah, pretty much exactly the same Fuckships? Relationships really are hard work.

✷ One, they literally have never fucked on dry land. Two, he’s always the one running around. Mayo has never been to Juárez, at least not for this matter.

PFFFFFFTTTTTTJDJDJD not me talking about relationships being hard work and Amado seconds later just, “y’know Mayo, why am I always the one who comes to you. Like are you even committed to this fuckship relationship? Bc I really don’t see you putting in the work.”

✷ Mayo snorts, “on these boats?! What made you think that?”

“I don’t know, man. You’re here every time.”

NOOOOO I AMSKSKSKS S DYING bc ngl, I have never given a single fucking thought to where Mayo might actually live bc I think I also thought he lowkey just lived in a houseboat or something djdjdjdje

✷ ... because boats are the perfect place to do what they do. They can just sail out, park anywhere and all of a sudden, it’s like the whole world disappears. Whatever they do stays in the middle of nowhere ...

OH WHY IS THIS SO UNEXPECTEDLY ROMANTIC THO???????

✷ A strong sense of deja vu suddenly hits him. The first time Pacho came to his new house, in this exact same living room, whispering in his ear, “now pick a bedroom.”

okay, first off.... now pick a bedroom FUCKINF HOTTTTTTT And secondly, once agaaaaiiinnnn, the way you’ve woven little echoes of Pacho all throughout this as like Amado’s entire reference point for fuckships relationships with other men, bc Pacho was his first. Like it makes so much sense but also really does up the emotional anti and adds tension in way that I think is really clever, just bc Amado and Mayo are both like so terminally chill it’d be hard to manufacture otherwise? Idk if that makes any sense sksksksksks but i guess what im trying to say is just imlovingit

✷ Interestingly, he has been thinking about Pacho less frequently, at least less intensely. What just happened used to be a regular occurrence, but just now it took him by surprise.

JESUSSSS NO BC EVERYONE SJSJSJS SHUT UP THIS IS THE MOST REEAALL STATE OF MIND, POST-BREAKUP. It’s that moment where you remember you’d been feeling a lot of emotional pain, but the thing that reminds you of it is more the absence of the pain? Which is like a relief and also the fucking worst sjsjs bc it’s fully, “don’t think of the purple elephant,” except it’s like, “oh damn, I haven’t thought about So-And-So for 2 days, what progress! that’s so aweso— AW FUCKINN GREAT. I was thinking about how I haven’t been thinking about So-And-So, and now I’m just thinking about them again”

✷ Mayo is leaning sideways on the marble table, head slightly tilted to the side, patiently waiting. He doesn’t seem to be bothered by the unexpected silence. If anything, he looks curious.

Okayokayokay so I LOVE the idea that Mayo is one of those ppl that’s like so comfortable with silence, that he rarely says anything, but like it’s not awkward really unless you make it awkward? And bc i have be insufferable to draw comparisons to my blorbo and make everything about me it’s not the kind of like shy, introverted, silent-for-survival’s sake quietness of Barrón, it’s like waaywaywayyyyy more laid back which is so on brand for him

✷ He doesn’t care. If he looks up, he can see eye to eye with Jesus. For a brief moment he doesn’t care about that either. Why should he? They’re both going to hell anyway.

OH YOU BROUGHT THE CATHOLIC GUILT INTO THIS MF AND I AM ACTHALLY ???? FUCKIGNSJDJDJDJDJD HYPERVENTILATING ??? AT HOW STEAMY THIS IS????? AND THEN YOU OPTED FOR THE KILLSHOT RIGHT BTWN MY EYES WITH “Why should he? They’re both going to hell anyway” ???? I MEAN— HOW VERY DARE YOU???

✷ For some reason Mayo always woke up before him in their previous encounters, so this is actually the first time Amado sees him asleep.

It’s really so true how different ppl look when they’re asleep I for the record look like an actual slob goblin so this doesn’t at all apply to me like more childlike and innocent than when they’re awake and seeing that facet of Mayo would be absolutely faaaaaaaascinating, like I too would be creepin, watching this mf sleep sksksks

✷ Sometimes he forgets that he doesn’t have to hide her existence anymore. No one can hurt her now.

Oh friend..... uhhhhhh WHY??? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME????? HOW HAVE I WRONGED YOU??? WHY WOULD YOU DROP THIS 10 TON ANVIL ON MY HEAD AND THEN RUN AWAY LAUGHING ??? THIS IS SO ... YOUVE JUST FILLETED MY HEART WITH A GINSU KNIFE AND IM ACTUALLY TRYING TO KEEP THE SHREDDED PIECES TOGETHER WITH SCOTCH TAPE AND IM FEELING FINE ABOUT IT

✷ Amado understands that. Really, he does. But what about him? Hasn’t he always treated Pacho with utmost respect, trust and adoration? Hasn’t he been the best business partner, a good friend and more? What about them?

JYEEEEEEEZUS FUCKING CHRIST DUDE THIS IS JUST THE MOST GUTTING THING “what about them” I’m fine! It’s FINEEEEEEEEEE

✷ But respect does nothing to ease the pain, so he does the only thing he knows whenever he’s in a bad place these days. He dials the familiar number.

WOOOOF okay there’s this song called Brutal Hearts by Bedouin Soundclash, and it’s all about like two lovers who are clearly using each other but one is a little more attached than the other and it goes:

Are you the brutal heart? Are you the brutal heart that I’ve been looking for? ‘Cause if you’re looking for love, you can look for that door.

And this other part that goes:

I don’t mind at all. I don’t mind that you only call me when you want. And I’m just glad you want me at all.

And this is just!!!!! It’s giving me those viiiibes dude

✷ He just desperately needs to let out his frustration in someone, someone who doesn’t mind.

NOOOOOOSTOOOOPPTPPPPP WHY IS THIS SUCH JUST THE FUCKING HOTTTTTEEEEST THING THO

✷ Amado knows he’s not talking about the sex. That was never bad. That’s never the bad part with anyone.

Idk what it is about this particular fic, like maybe it’s the fact that you haven’t written this pairing before, but you’re really tapping into an internal monologue for Amado with these little observations, “That’s never the bad part with anyone,” that I am LIVING FOR, like that shit is my absolute kryptonite, it really puts me so in his head and in the moment

✷ But Mayo has always been on his own. Maybe he’s more of a lone wolf than any of them. Maybe that’s why Amado keeps coming back.

UGGGGHHHSJSJSJSJDJDOAKYAYYYY IM PRETTY SURE THIS JUST DETONATED A BOMB INSIDE MY HEAD bc I just realized it’s such a another subtle allusion to Pacho like it would make so much sense that Amado would find it comforting that Mayo’s such an independent spirit bc it means he can never lose him to found-family, the way he did with Pacho, but it also means he’s less likely to get as invested in Mayo bc he’ll always sort of be at arms length and GODDDDD ITSNJUST SNSODKDKSNE IM FLIPPING MY DAMN DESK OVER BC ITS SO GOOD, ITS SUCH PROSE, ITS SO SHOW-DONT-TELL

✷ … the kind of plan that only Mayo can pull off, because the asshole knows everyone and somehow always gets what he wants from these connections.

Idk why but the undertone of admiration and butthurt-ness in this is sending me skskssksks as though Amado hasn’t been super skilled at working his own connections like mans is the biggest trafficker in the world at that point, and he’s still like “ugh, that Mayo. He’s so much cooler than me. Why’s he so cool. Ugh, I hate him. But I love him but I hate him.”

✷ The nonchalance and casual cruelty send an exciting chill down his spine, rushing blood to somewhere that it absolutely shouldn’t go right now.

PFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTKDDJJDJDJDJ THIS SWITCH THO from sentimentality, lfondly remembering the good ole days when everyone used to play nicely in the sandbox, to just ferally turned on about how much Mayo doesn’t give a single fuck about anyoennaksksks I cannot, at all, in any way, relate -> this is what a pack of falsehoods looks like in case you were curious

✷ “When you…wait, they tried to burn the ship while you were on the ship?”

OKYA IM SCREAMINFKDKD bc this is always something I’d wondered on the show, liek at first I assumed bc of the way it was shot, that they just torched his favorite boat, but it makes WAAAAAYYYY more sense, given how pissed and generally savage and ruthless Dina was, that she’d actually probably try to literally roast this man alive god, what a woman on his favorite boat

✷ He’s had friends killed. He has killed friends. Mayo is right, because a burn on the arm is nothing with their standard. He shouldn’t care this much. He doesn’t know when he started to.

Sorryyyytjfjdjdjd I know casually murdering your friends for business purposes is like Not Funny but that first sentence is so like “¯\_(ツ)_/¯ you win some, you lose some!” is really making me cackle. BUT THEN ALSO THE REALIZATION THAT HE ACTUALLY CARES WHAT HAPPENS TO MAYO IS JUDT— I AM SCRWAMING, CRYING, PUNCHING WALLS

✷ “But try to do it quietly. We don’t want to end up like Benjamín.”

“Please Amado, we both know how to keep things quiet pretty well.”

SKSKSKSKSKKKSKSJSJSNSBS I HAVE NOTHING COHERENT TO SAY EXCEPT THIS IS MY FUCKINT FACE RN

✷ Turns out things can only be so quiet when you’re torturing and killing people daily. Mayo even burned a bunch of people alive. Of course he did.

THINGS CAN ONLY BE SO QUIET WHEN YOURE TORTURING AND KILLING PEOPLE DAILY. Everything about this whole ass fuckinskskskskn paragraph is straight tf up, pure, unadulterated, neon, white lightning comedic gold. I love the way it’s phrased almsot like a voiceover in a movie, like in my head, I’m seeing that scene where Mayo’s leaning back in that lawn chair, just calming sipping his beer, smoking his cigarette while he watches these men barbecue to death a few feet in front of him, and hearing Amado’s voice, narrating over it like, “Resulta que cosas solo pueden ser tan tranquilas cuando estas torturando y matando a gente a diario ...”

✷ He will miss this, he knows, every bit of it.

AGAIN, FOR THE THOUSANDTH TIME, ALL OF THIS BEING IN THE SHADOW OF PACHO LEAVING THE BUSINESS AND SEEING HIM FORNTHEBLAST TOME LIKE IVE ACTUALLY FULLY MELTED INTO A PUDDLE ON THE FLOOR AND PEOPLE ARE STEPPING ON ME, LOOKING AT THEIR SHOE WITH DISGUST AND THEN SCRAPING ME OFF AS THEY WALK AWAY

✷ The old times are slipping away, faster everyday and he can’t stop it. He wants Pacho, needs Pacho to be here, to remind him that it’s possible to have something actually good come out of this business, besides money he can’t spend in ten life times ... not even Pacho can give him what he craves for … The way Pacho is willing to risk everything for his Cali family, the way Acosta was willing to die for Mimi, that is what he wants. And he hasn’t felt that since he lost his daughter.

I don’t even have anything articulate to say about this except that like fuck, Amado really does end up so alone at the end of it all. Like yes, in the show, he ends up with Marta but he’s lost so many others along the way, and you can just tell the money isn’t even worth it and has never really been the draw for him in the first place. It reminds me of that conversation he has with Acosta when he’s like “I like people more than money” and Amado agrees. Like I think that is the god’s honest truth but he forgets about it until it’s too late

✷ “You will find your way out too, and you will find someone to do it with. You know that, right?”

UGHHHSHSKSKSKEJWJWBWBWHEJN OKAY JUST TAKE A SEARING HOT KNIFE AND JAM IT STRAIGHT THROUGH MY STERNUM INTO MY HEART WHY DONT YOU, BC I WOKE UP THIS MORNING AND SAID, “YKNOW WHAT’S MISSING FROM MY LIFE???! MENTAL AND EMOTIONAL EVISCERATION. YES THAT’S WHAT IT IS!!! ILL HAVE SOME OF THAT WITH A GLASS OF ORANGE JUICE AND A SIDE OF SCRAMBLED EGGS THANKS”

✷ He doesn’t know how Pacho read his mind, and also doesn’t know the answer to that question, but he smiles and says yes, because both of them deserve to hear it.

BECAUSE BOTH OF THEM DESERVE TO HEAR IT INCAAAAAAAAAANT EVENSODJSJD FUCKING HANDLE THESE HITS, JUST BACK TO BACK, ONE RIGHT AFTER THE OTHER, BY THE END OF THIS FIC IM GONNA BE IN A FUCKING VEGETATIVE STATE

✷ ... and just like that, the air is again filled with a relaxed atmosphere. “They’re your supply, and right now my supply is you, so I need to know if that’s true.”

I love Mayo’s cluelessness at Amado getting all butthurt about the term “relationship.” Like I feel like someone could put a gun to Mayo’s head and he would just casually smirk and sip from his beer, cool as can be

✷ Mayo silently holds his gaze, completely chill like he has nothing to hide, and if Amado knows anything about the man, is that he can maintain that pretense for as long as he wants.

Re: the above comment sksks I get the feeling that Mayo is actually the worst person to get into an argument with bc he’s so That Guy. The One that you’ll be screaming at and instead of fighting back like you want him to, he’ll just fuckin laff in your face and refuse to play ball a trait that I don’t find to be sexy, or attractive, or infuriatingly endearing at all. Nopenopenope, no siree bub

✷ “Maybe? I thought it would be fancier, you know, like your house.”

Amado snorts, “I’m sure the DEA would love that too.”

Not me and Mayo just being the same person here, like just based on Amado’s house and the way he dresses, I would also expect the planes to be a little more impressive than those piece of shit tiny Cessnas that literally look like they’re being held together by fuckinfkdk barbed wire and staples

✷ Mayo nods, not in a casual, dismissive way, but like he truly understands, and maybe he does. Maybe Mayo also bought his first boat on a payment plan, and kept it running as long as he could.

Dang, why do I get the feeling that the boat the Arellanos set on fire, was Mayo’s first boatsksksk just to add insult to injury bc Dina was going full scorched earth policy once again, what a woman

✷ Mayo climbs into the co-pilot seat, not hiding his curiosity as he observes the hundreds of buttons on the control panel, and even touches a few without asking. Amado’s pretty sure Mayo did that just to push his buttons. “Yeah, this is too fucking complicated.”

SPFFDFFFTTT NOT THIS MF JUST PURPOSELY PRESSING THE BUTTONS BC HE KNOWS ITLL BUG THE SHIT OUT OF AMADOSKSKSKS I LOVE THE WAY YOUVE WRITTEN HIM SO MUCH HERE. And then, once again, “this is too fucking complicated,” Mayo taking the words right outta my mouth although based on a number of historical documentaries I’ve seen, boats, especially sailboats can be equally confounding and hard to learn how to pilot sksks there’s just fewer buttons

✷ He sees rage, raw and uncontrolled, natural. If Amado weren’t still controlling the plane, he would definitely be punched in the face now.

Ooooooo so interesting that Amado rejects Mayo bc it’s like already too hard to let go, he’s enjoying his company too much. And it would make complete and total sense given that he’d just lost Pacho and knows that he’s about to bounce from the business for good and basically never see him again.

✷ It’s just a walk, probably a regular occurance for Mayo, walking away from someone, forgetting everything they offered and didn’t offer, and just like that, simply onto the next journey.

Always better to be my own boss.

He’s a man of his words, and Amado respects that.

Ngl, I like furiously scrolled down to see how much more of the fic there was bc even though this would’ve been a fuckint banger of an ending and super on-brand, based on your ability to shatter my heart and psyche with tragedy I was about to be in full fucking fisticuffs, just fighting strangers in the street, bc that’s how mad I would’ve been if that’s the way this ended sksksk

✷ Ironically, that reminds him of their first few encounters, always in the darkness that hides them from everyone else, as well as themselves.

Okay, once again???????? Heart wrenching???? and beautiful??! And romantic ???! and tragic bc there’s no fucking way this shit is going to end well?????

✷ But why should Mayo understand? It’s not like he knows much about Mayo either. Amado looks at the artworks and books on the shelf behind the desk. Are they just decorations or do they have more meanings? He doesn’t know, does he?

I do like this acknowledgment of the fact that even though he and Mayo clearly have a connection and in a way, they know each other, they still don’t like know know each other. Like it’s always been about business or sex, they haven’t ever had the, “so what’s your favorite color” conversations they’d normally have if they were together or even just friends. And it really emphasizes really how lonely Amado is, almost like he’s regretting keepin Mayo at arm’s length bc there’s this gulf of communication between them, but that’s sort of by design built into their whole arrangement

✷ Right below where the girl is standing, on the side of the boat, it writes Anna.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHKAAAAAAY WHAT THE ACTUAL EVER LOVING FUCKING JESUS CHRIST FUCKING FUCK OF FUCKS, IM NOT EVEN— I CANT EVEN COMPUTE??????? RIGHT NOW???? THIS IS SO THOUGHTFUL AND UNEXPECTED YET DOESNT FEEL OUT OF CHARACTER AS A THING MAYO WOULD GET FOR HIM?????!??? ITS— LIKE— LIKE IM IN A BALL, CATATONIC, DERANGED, LAUGHING LIKE THE JOKER, LYING ON MY BATHROOM FLOOR BC YOUVE FULLY UNRAVELED ME LIKE A SPOOL OF YARN

✷ “At first I wanted to make a plane that takes her to heaven, but then I figured it might be too modern for God … I mean, the ark was a boat, right?”

Ohhdaaaaaaaaamn gorrrrlllllll I see you out here with these biblical references, i see you and I salute you but for the realism, not bc I’m like esp “yay! Jesus”

✷ *You will find someone.* He already has, when he wasn’t even looking.

AND RHEN SSKSKSOWOWOZIANA THIS CALLBACK TO PACHO, IM FULLY FUCKING DERANGED RN

✷ “I’m not laying low for a while. I’m leaving, forever, in two days.”

“Oh! Ok…that’s…”

Skskskksskskkdkdksks sorry, I just spit out my chocolate milk reading this bc Mayo is never caught off guard but I can like see and hear his confusion, here, so clearly in my mind’s eye, it’s sending me

✷ “You think I don’t know that?”

“You know, but no one really wants that, not even you.” Amado leans forward and puts both of his hands on the desk. “For the longest time I also thought I was fine with it, but no one wants to be alone.”

Oh this just got me thinking like I wonder how much older Amado is. Only bc this very much sounds like something someone a few years older would say, but then again, Amado’s been in the business for longer than Mayo, at least according to the show, so it could also just be like sksksks career advice from someone who’s further along if said career is A Life Of Doing Crimes

✷ “The government was onto you, you lost your supply and your Colombian boyfriend dumped you. So you came up with an escape plan, which was a pretty good idea. But when the 48 hour count down began, you had some kind of…fucking existential crisis, so you came here to grab the first person you could think of, to bring them like a bag of cash.”

OOOOOFFFFFF okay, so I take it back when I said that Mayo’s that person who only laughs at you when you fight with him. Like 95% of the time, I think that’s the case, except for that rare 5% of the time when he’s like this ^^ just slinging hard truths at you and it hits even harder by the very fact that he refuses to sling shit most of the time

✷ “Tell me again, when are you leaving?”

“In two days?”

“How long did it take for you to prepare?”

“…Several months.”

“And how long have we known each other?”

He looks up to meet Mayo’s eyes again, and he sees it, the thick layer of pain shadowing all the anger.

Okay, I love you, Amado and I have no doubt you had the best of intentions, but our homie here is making some good pointskskskk like this isn’t the best or most well-thought-out way to finally tell someone “I’m into you for more than that disco stick”

✷ “I hope you can get away, and I’m not telling this to anyone.” Mayo takes out a cigarette and lights it, taking a long drag. “But get the fuck out of my house.”

I’m like.... gaaaaaaah l so conflicted bc I’m such a sucker for a happy ending but I’m also kind of like “fair, Mayo. Fair.”

✷ He already knows everything that needs to be done, so he just does them, but it feels more like accomplishing a preassigned task rather than going to his freedom. He doesn’t know what happens after, and he barely made sense of what happened before, so he is simply going to execute the plan. It’s his only option now.

OHHHHHHH NOOOI AMADO, TODO VA A ESTAR BIEN, POBRECITO ~~EXCEPTO QUE EN REALIDAD NO LO SÉ PORQUE NO SÉ CÓMO ESTO TERMINA PERO NECESITO QUE ESTA MIERDA ESTE BIEN

✷ “You’re not here to shoot me, right?” It’s meant to be a joke, but he can’t rule that out completely based on their last meeting.

“Honestly? I considered it.”

Skskskksksksksksjs “based on their last meeting” like, Amado, buddy. You can’t rule that out ever, just by the very nature of the fact that you’re all a bunch of duplicitous, murderous cartel bosses, but it’s fine sksksks

✷ This isn’t luck. Mayo *knows* him, more than either of them is willing to admit.

UH YEAAAAHHHH I FEEL LIKE THE MOST TOUCHING, SWEET, SENTIMENTAL, WELL THOUGHT OUT GIFT OF ALL TIME MEANS HE KNOWS YOU

✷ “I thought about what you said. Most of it was fucking bullshit, but you did have one good point.”

SORRYSJSJSJS i just snorted so fucking loud bc this is so something I’d actually say

✷ “So…you’re basically using me.” There’s a subtle sourness in his chest, but he knows he’s smiling.

“Well, you used me first for a fucking long time, so now it’s my turn.”

CUE ME FUCKING JUMPING UP AND DOWN SCREAMING LIEK IVE JUST WON THE PUBLISHER’S CLEARINGHOUSE SWEEPSTAKES AND YOUVE HANDED ME A GIANT CHECK BC I GOT MY FUCKIGN HAPPY ENDING AND I SWEAR TO GOD, I TRULY DID NOT SEE HOW IT WAS GONNA BE POSSIBLE, I DID THINK I WAS GONNA GET IT BUT YOU MADE IT HAPPEN ANYWAY

Call It Even

(My rare pair writing challenge for myself that somehow turned into a 9k words novel…)

Rating: Mature

Paring: Amado/Mayo, Amado/Pacho

Words: 9,542

The first time it happened, it was more like a stress relief than anything else. The process of restructuring the entire operation of Juárez wasn’t going as smoothly as Amado had hoped. He was living in a shitty house while his new mansion was under construction. On top of all that, he still hadn’t summoned enough courage to visit his daughter’s grave.

Mayo was asking for a favor, something about moving his boats through the port in Peñasco, which technically didn’t belong to Juárez, but he was planning to expand his operation there. He didn’t know how exactly Mayo got that information, but it didn’t matter that much. People like them always had their own ways.

They were acquaintances at best, never even met alone before, but somehow Amado just knew the other man wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of a little fun time. A certain someone had given him enough experiences to develop a quite accurate instinct for this sort of thing.

They parked the boat in the middle of open water. Below the deck, even moonlight couldn’t shine through the closed door. Their bodies intertwined in complete darkness, surprisingly easy, both knowing exactly what to do, and Amado couldn’t help but wonder where Mayo got his experiences from. But then the waves must have gotten higher, because the boat started to rock back and forth, matching their increasingly intense rhythm, and all other thoughts were pushed out of his brain.

He woke up naked the next morning, under a soft blanket that smelt like sea. The boat was already moving, so he quickly got dressed and went up the deck. Mayo waved at him behind the steering wheel, or whatever that wheel was called on boats.

“How did you sleep?”

That could mean two very different things, but either way his answer was the same. “Pretty good.”

“Good.” Mayo smiled, adjusting the wheel to a fixed position, and then loosely leaned on it. “We didn’t talk about tax yesterday. How much do you want?”

“How much are you moving?”

Mayo nodded at a container in the corner, “five times that much.”

Amado walked over and took off the lid, “every week? Month?”

“Twice per month.”

He did some quick math in his head. “That’s fine, you can just move them through the port.”

Mayo lifted his eyebrows in surprise, and he wished he could take back what he said. It sounded more like an insult than a nice gesture, in more ways than one.

But then Mayo just shrugged. “Gracias compa! If you ever need a favor, or a friend…you know where to find me.”

He heard the meticulous way “friend” was pronounced, and he didn’t miss the suggestive gaze, right on the fine line between being flirtatious and blunt.

They didn’t see each other for a long time after that. Mayo kept his promise, moving their agreed amount and nothing more, so Amado kept his word as well, never asking for a tax. Frankly, that amount of money would mean nothing to him if he could make this new deal with Cali.

Then he wouldn’t just be moving the products. He would be selling them.

It felt weird to meet with Pacho in the presence of others. He was so used to it being just them. It was easier that way, more relaxing. They always did other things besides talking business. Those times gave him a brief illusion that the Colombian was his.

The meeting went well, and he felt nothing but gratefulness towards Pacho, knowing that Cali would never share their US territory with a Mexican if Pacho didn’t vouch for him.

In a way, that was the worst part, because he couldn’t even find a reason to be mad. How could he be mad at Pacho for not staying for a drink, when Pacho helped him to get half of the US market?

He flew back to Mexico that night and had no sleep, and the next afternoon he went to Mazatlán.

That’s why he’s standing by the port again right now, looking at the same boat. Or maybe it was a different one, just similar. He couldn’t really tell, just like others couldn’t tell his planes apart too.

The sun is just beginning to set, painting the sky a shade of dark orange, tainting all reflections on the water with golden sparkles. Mayo is sitting on the deck, enjoying a bottle of beer, his baseball cap placed on a chair right next to him.

He looks at Amado, and then tells his guys to leave.

“I guess you don’t need a favor.”

Amado takes off his sunglasses. He doesn’t need them under the dim sunlight. “No.”

Mayo smiles and takes the baseball cap off the chair, casually tossing it on a pile of nets nearby. “Then come aboard.”

It’s still dark below the deck, but he has just enough light to see the person right in front of him, and everything else in the background is blurred out. Their clothes are scattered on the floor. Their lips are on each other’s body so they don’t need to talk. The blankets and sheets still smell like the sea, but it’s not a bad odor— it’s fresh and natural.

It reminds him of a nice cool breeze in the midst of summer heat.

They lay side by side catching their breath, letting their heartbeats slow down after the overwhelming raw pleasure. Then the awkwardness suddenly hits him, and he doesn’t know what to say or do. That never happened before, not with women because they always wanted to cuddle, and not with Pacho either. They were already friends before anything else.

But Mayo’s not his friend, and certainly not a woman, but that thought makes him break into a smile, and Mayo spots it immediately.

“Something funny?”

There’s no point in denying it, but he’s not going to share the details. “A little.”

Mayo reaches for his pants on the floor, and takes out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the pockets. “Good funny?”

“If you say so.” He waves it off when Mayo offers him the pack. This dark, enclosed space is perfect for sex, but terrible for smoking.

Mayo apparently doesn’t mind as he lights one for himself, the little spark shines on his face, casting a shadow of the nicely shaped nose.

“Did you come up with El Mayo yourself?” Amado doesn’t know where that question came from, probably just a random thought his brain made up on its own to alleviate the uneasiness.

“Yeah, why?”

“Just the month of May?”

“Why not?” Mayo blows out a puff of smoke. “It’s a good time of the year. Not too hot, not too rainy, great for sailing.”

That makes perfect sense, but almost too much sense for people like them. It feels too effortless, too authentic.

“Also, what other options do I have? El Señor de Los Cielos sounds cool, but lord of the sea just sounds like some dirty pirate with golden teeth.”

Amado bursts out laughing at that ridiculous mental image, and the best part is that it doesn’t even look bad. Mayo as a dirty pirate? Hilarious, but not bad.

Mayo laughs with him, and then doesn’t say more. Silence falls upon them again, but the awkwardness is miraculously gone.

Mayo finishes the cigarette and takes his watch from a tiny table next to the bed, which might or might not count as a nightstand. Amado sits up straight, taking it as his cue to leave.

“You want something to eat?” Mayo takes a look at time, and then starts putting on his pants. “There’s a pretty nice seafood place around here.”

“What?”

Mayo shrugs, buckling up the belt. “It’s dinner time, unless you want to drive straight back.”

The restaurant is small and vibrant, full of regular civilians, half look like fishermen or sailors, or maybe they’re also criminals pretending to be normal, like them.

The owner comes out to greet Mayo, not with a handshake but an earnest hug, the kind of hug that only belongs to people who have known each other for a long time.

“I give José free shrimp all the time, so he lets me eat here free for life.” Mayo suddenly says, after the owner brought them their third round of free drinks.

Amado drinks a large gulp of cold beer. “Well, does he know why you never ask to be paid?”

Mayo just looks at him and smiles. There’s something special with that smile, by now Amado has noticed. He’s no stranger to nice smiles. He’s seen it on Pacho a thousand times, seductive and irresistible. But this is different; it’s lighthearted and simple, even contagious, like smiling doesn’t need a reason.

It makes him want to smile too.

They have developed into a routine since then. There isn’t a fixed schedule, of course, that would be fucking weird, but they can always find out when is a good time for the other person, meaning business is going smoothly and no one’s trying to kill them at the moment.

Again, people like them always have their ways.

He’s been to most of Mayo’s boats, if not all. He even ranked them based on their comfort levels in his head. It’s actually how he can tell them apart to a large extent, not that he’s ever going to tell Mayo that. He has also learned what restaurants in Mazatlán have the freshest seafood, and that has completely ruined all seafood restaurants in Juárez. Now they all taste like shit, even the most expensive ones.

His favorite is still José’s place. The oysters are to die for, and the shrimp too, but that doesn’t surprise him. José never lets him pay, even when he’s not going with Mayo, but he always leaves a generous tip.

One day, when Amado arrives at the port as usual, he’s suddenly hit with two realizations. One, they literally have never fucked on dry land. Two, he’s always the one running around. Mayo has never been to Juárez, at least not for this matter.

“You don’t live on your boats, right?” He asks, just to make sure.

Mayo snorts, “on these boats?! What made you think that?”

“I don’t know, man. You’re here every time.” Amado shrugs, looking around at the now familiar surroundings. A random mechanic recognizes him and nods.

Mayo gives him a thoughtful look. “You never asked to go anywhere else.”

That’s true, because boats are the perfect place to do what they do. They can just sail out, park anywhere and all of a sudden, it’s like the whole world disappears. Whatever they do stays in the middle of nowhere, and at this point, they have done a lot.

However, if he’s being completely honest with himself, boats are not yachts, and he’s not twenty years old anymore. It doesn’t hurt to fuck on a nice soft king-sized bed once in a while.

“You know, if you want a change of scenery, you don’t have to come here.” Mayo leans forward a little, staring right into his eyes like he’s reading his mind. “I’m sure it’d be a lot more comfortable in your new house, or more exciting on a plane.”

Amado’s genuinely impressed at how Mayo effortlessly turned the table, kicking the ball right back to him, even making it sound a bit like his fault.

“You never offered to make the trip.” He responds, intentionally mimicking what the other man said earlier.

“I’m offering now.”

He swallows, not sure how he’s so aroused by that simple sentence, maybe it has something to do with that unfazed attitude. “The house or the plane?”

“Your place, your call.”

Mayo whistles when they walk into one of the large living rooms. “How long did they take to build this again?”

“Too long if you ask me.”

Outside of the floor-to-ceiling window, a few gardeners are working on the lawn. Amado walks over and closes the curtains.

Mayo runs his fingertips along the large dining table, “is this marble?”

“I think so.”

Mayo smirks, and without asking for his permission, picks up the crystal vase at the center of the table and gently sets it on the floor. “Ever tried it?”

A strong sense of deja vu suddenly hits him. The first time Pacho came to his new house, in this exact same living room, whispering in his ear, “now pick a bedroom.”

He blinks and shakes that memory out of his mind. Interestingly, he has been thinking about Pacho less frequently, at least less intensely. What just happened used to be a regular occurrence, but just now it took him by surprise.

Mayo is leaning sideways on the marble table, head slightly tilted to the side, patiently waiting. He doesn’t seem to be bothered by the unexpected silence. If anything, he looks curious.

Amado shakes his head a bit frustratedly. “You just hate regular nice beds, don’t you?”

“I like them for sleeping.”

He rolls his eyes. “This is an open area. People can walk in anytime.” Not only that, there is a big sculpture of The Last Supper on the shelf directly facing this table.

“They all work for you, just tell them to stay away. We can be quiet.” Mayo glances at the sculpture, and then gives him a smirk, outright sinful. “Come on, don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

He gives in. He can never resist. Sometimes he wonders how he hasn’t developed a coke addiction with his crappy self control. Maybe sex is the only thing he’s drawn to.

Despite his vindictive efforts to make it difficult, Mayo does manage to stay quiet, but he can tell the tension and excitement from the grip on his shoulders, hard enough to leave bruises. He doesn’t care. If he looks up, he can see eye to eye with Jesus. For a brief moment he doesn’t care about that either. Why should he? They’re both going to hell anyway.

Amado wakes up in the morning next to another warm naked body. Right, they did it again last night, finally on a bed like normal people. Sunlight shines through the small slit between heavy curtains. The room looks peaceful at this time, and so does the person. For some reason Mayo always woke up before him in their previous encounters, so this is actually the first time Amado sees him asleep.

He doesn’t realize he’s leaning in until their faces are inches apart from each other. Then Mayo opens his eyes.

It could be some sixth sense that they all eventually develop in their world. The sleepiness in Mayo’s light brown eyes turns into alert immediately. Amado jumps back just in time to avoid being hit in the face.

The air is filled with awkward tension as they stare at each other from their own side of bed, both still naked under the cover.

“Shit man,” Mayo laughs and runs a hand down his face, “don’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry.” He mutters, turning away to get out of bed.

“What time is it?” Mayo asks, although there is a large clock right there on the wall.

“Around 8:40.” Amado answers as he walks to the closet, putting on a black bathrobe.

“Great, I should be back by noon.” Mayo takes the identical robe right next to it and wraps it around himself.

“Something going on?”

“There’s always something going on.” Mayo brushes off the question and walks towards the bathroom, but stops in front of the nightstand as something catches his eye.

“Huh, is this the one you flew to Mazatlán last time?” He picks it up, and Amado’s heart drops as he sees what’s in the other man’s hands.

“Put that down!”

“Sí, tranquilo!” Mayo immediately sets it back down on the nightstand, and then puts up both hands. “Sorry.”

Amado pinches the bridge of his nose. He didn’t realize how dramatic his tone was, but he’s not going to apologize. Mayo shouldn’t be touching his stuff without asking, but he also didn’t set that rule straight yesterday with the vase.

Mayo crosses his arms and fixes him with an inquisitive stare, not at all offended or demanding, just simply curious about his sudden outburst, and somehow that enrages him even more. He knows it’s not the best way to deal with the situation, but at this moment, he just wants to tell Mayo to go take a shower, get dressed and get out of his house.

“My bad, I should have known.” Mayo breaks the silence with another apology. “Of course you would have some strong attachments to planes, even if it’s a model.”

If it came from anyone else, it would sound like they were making fun of him, saying he was like a little boy holding onto his toys. But Mayo somehow always manages to make the teasing remarks sound harmless and fun, like there are no other hidden meanings.

Amado sighs, “it was my daughter’s.”

Sometimes he forgets that he doesn’t have to hide her existence anymore. No one can hurt her now.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a daughter.” Mayo lifts his eyebrows in surprise. “How old is she?”

“Six.” He walks towards the nightstand and adjusts the toy plane to the exact same location and angle as before. “She was six.”

He knows Mayo will catch the specific choice of word, so he doesn’t bother to meet him in the eye. He remembers how Pacho looked at him after hearing the news: shock, pity, pain… As heartwarming as it was to know someone else cared, he doesn’t want to see any of that again.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t know.”

Amado remains quiet, because he doesn’t want to say it’s ok. It’s fucking not.

“What was her name?”

“Anna.”

“Sounds very pretty.”

She is. She’s the prettiest little girl he’s ever seen.

He hears a gentle sigh, and then footsteps walking away. The bathroom door closes, and water starts running.

Nothing prepared Amado for the news Pacho brought. Cali is getting out of the business, for good. But why? How? What is he going to do? Where else can he get this amount of supply? “Gilberto and Miguel have always treated me as family. I’m going to join them.”

Amado understands that. Really, he does. But what about him? Hasn’t he always treated Pacho with utmost respect, trust and adoration? Hasn’t he been the best business partner, a good friend and more?

What about them?

Once Pacho has made up his mind, there’s no way to change it. Amado knows. That’s one of the reasons he respects him so much. But respect does nothing to ease the pain, so he does the only thing he knows whenever he’s in a bad place these days. He dials the familiar number.

Mayo opens the door when he arrives at the house in a suburban area. Amado hasn’t been here before, but it looks like a nice house, just not the house. It’s well decorated, both comfortable and aesthetic, but he just doesn’t feel like this is a place Mayo would call home. Why he feels that way, he doesn’t know, and he’s also not in the mood to think about.

They waste no time getting into bed, pieces of clothing scattered all over the expensive carpet. They’ve done it both ways, and both have been highly enjoyable, but tonight he’s not here for fun. He just desperately needs to let out his frustration in someone, someone who doesn’t mind.

When he shoves the other man into the mattress, Mayo shoots him a suspicious glance but doesn’t protest, which he really appreciates. He enters the warm body with little preparation, feeling the muscles clenching around his length. He forces himself to take a deep breath and slow down, so he doesn’t actually hurt him. Causing pain to whomever he sleeps with is never a turn-on.

Underneath him Mayo silently grabs the silky sheet, and he covers it with his own hand, intertwining their fingers tightly until their knuckles turn white.

The orgasm is satisfying and cathartic as usual, but physical pleasure can only do so much. They sit on their own sides of bed, the only thing floating in silent air is the smoke from two cigarettes.

Finally Mayo turns to him first, intentionally blowing a puff of smoke next to his face. “That bad?”

Amado knows he’s not talking about the sex. That was never bad.

That’s never the bad part with anyone.

“Have you ever had partners?” He asks, although he doesn’t even know why that question came to mind, or how that’s relevant in any way.

“Partners? No.” Mayo chuckles, “things change, people change, and once you have a disagreement…”

He pauses and turns to look Amado in the eye. It’s probably not a special or intense look to anyone else, but Amado knows all about it now: the teasing suggestiveness that’s always followed by something provocative, for better or worse.

“When things don’t work out, you will have to betray them, or kill them, right?”

Amado frowns, suddenly realizes how audacious Mayo has become with him, but what’s worse is that he doesn’t feel offended or threatened when he should.

“Hey, no judgment here. You do what you have to do. That’s the business.” Mayo pats him playfully on the naked shoulder. “I’m just saying that’s too much trouble for me. Always better to be my own boss.”

Is it? Maybe. Amado agrees, but he wouldn’t have agreed a decade ago. He thinks about Acosta, and even Miguel. He used to see them as partners. Maybe he doesn’t call them families like how Pacho calls the other Cali godfathers, but he cared about them at some point.

But Mayo has always been on his own. Maybe he’s more of a lone wolf than any of them.

Maybe that’s why Amado keeps coming back.

He thought losing his supply would be the biggest problem, but he should have known the golden rule in their business: when one thing goes to shit, everything goes to shit.

He just got off the plane an hour ago, hadn’t even had something to eat yet, and the fucking Arellanos shot up his favorite restaurant. He lost two bodyguards, but everyone else got out of there safely. He’s unscratched.

Amado rushes back home, asks his men to do a thorough security evaluation, and pours himself a generous glass of whiskey. When his phone rings, he has barely finished one third of the glass.

Mayo doesn’t bother to say hello. “Did they make a move on you too?”

It’s a vague question, doesn’t even specify who they are. Amado can play oblivious if he wants, but a shootout in a public restaurant is no secret, so there’s no point in denying.

“Why are you asking?”

He hears a sigh. “Well, they burned my ship. Just trying to figure out if I’m the only one they’re pissed at.”

Amado almost wants to tell him he got off easy. Having a ship burned sounds much better than being shot at. But this is not the time for jokes.

“You want to meet tomorrow? For business.” Now that he thinks about it, the last two words really aren’t necessary.

“Sure, Juárez or Mazatlán?”

“I’ll fly there first thing in the morning. Meet by the port?”

“Sounds good. I’ll show you the wreckage.”

Mayo makes it sound like something good, which he doesn’t understand, but now he’s curious. Which ship was burned? The biggest one? How many times have they done it in that one?

“So…see you tomorrow?” Mayo asks tentatively, snapping him out of his roaming thoughts. He must have been quiet for a while.

He quickly confirms and hangs up the phone. It’s been a long day, and he needs to get up early tomorrow. Time for some sleep.

Amado has never been to this port in the morning, and the beautiful scene makes him wonder why he hasn’t. Morning sunlight is bright but gentle, without the burning afternoon heat, just a hopeful glow on the tranquil water. It contrasts the ship wreckage perfectly, almost in an artistic way.

“Shit, the biggest one?” Amado shakes his head looking at the ruins. “Always come for what we love, right?”

“It’s a shame. She was my favorite one. Still had a few good years to go.” Mayo touches the burned metal frame. “But it’s fine. We managed to put it out before it could spread to other boats.”

“I assume you’re here to talk about a plan.” Mayo leads him to another boat, takes out two bottles of beers from a freezer and throws him one.

He catches it. “And I assume you already have one.”

Mayo smirks behind the beer bottle, and then goes on to explain how he plans to use Sinaloan’s manpower to move products through Tijuana. It’s a unique plan, the kind of plan that only Mayo can pull off, because the asshole knows everyone and somehow always gets what he wants from these connections.

That means Mayo wants something from him too.

“What do you need from me?”

“Chapo already has men, so we just need products to get going. The numbers you’re doing? I’m sure you don’t mind sparing a little.” Mayo raises the half empty bottle to him, “and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“What rest?”

“What else?” Mayo shrugs, “the Arellanos tried to kill you. Surely the Lord of the Skies won’t let that slide.”

The sun is rising higher, and he puts on his sunglasses. “I don’t know. The Arellanos helped me to take down Félix.”

Mayo simply takes another sip of beer. “So?”

The nonchalance and casual cruelty send an exciting chill down his spine, rushing blood to somewhere that it absolutely shouldn’t go right now.

“I’ll advance your products.” He says, a bit hurriedly. It’s a good thing that he has his sunglasses on.

“Great. Then it’s a deal.”

Usually this is when they shake hands, but at this point, they both know they’re closer than that.

“It’s a deal.” Amado nods, and claps Mayo’s shoulder, giving it a firm shake.

The other man immediately tenses up under his touch, almost like a held-back flinch. The beer bottle drops on the deck and shatters.

“What…” Startled, Amado removes his hand. “What the hell was that?”

“Nothing. The bottle just got slippery.”

“No, what happened to your left arm?”

Mayo waves it off with the other arm. “It’s fine, man. Not a big deal.”

“Don’t give me that shit.” He meant to use a stern tone, but it comes out more annoyed than anything. “What the fuck’s going on?”

Mayo lets out a frustrated sigh, acting like Amado is the unreasonable one here. “Just a burn I got last night, when I got off the ship.”

“When you…wait, they tried to burn the ship while you were on the ship?”

“You know how it is. We’ve all done it.” Mayo says that casually, and Amado truly doesn’t understand how he’s so calm about it. People fuck over and kill each other in this business. That’s no news. But almost being burned alive?!

“They fucked up their chance, and now it’s our turn. It’s that simple.” Mayo explains, like he’s the one trying to calm Amado down, which is quite funny since Amado is usually the calm one.

Then it hits him. He is usually calmer than this. He’s had friends killed. He has killed friends. Mayo is right, because a burn on the arm is nothing with their standard. He shouldn’t care this much.

He doesn’t know when he started to.

“We’ll get back at them, right?” Mayo pulls him out of his thoughts again. “That’s what we’re talking about here.”

“Yeah.” Amado adjusts his sunglasses, trying to get his brain back to business mode, and when he speaks, the viciousness in his voice matches perfectly with the rage inside. “They need to die.”

“I’ll make sure of that.”

“But try to do it quietly. We don’t want to end up like Benjamín.”

Mayo gives him a smile, the kind of smile that’s only reserved for when they’re alone, often naked. “Please Amado, we both know how to keep things quiet pretty well.”

Turns out things can only be so quiet when you’re torturing and killing people daily. Mayo even burned a bunch of people alive. Of course he did.

The violence doesn’t surprise him, but Hank’s reaction does. It starts to make more sense when he puts more thoughts into the situation. Hank is a politician, and with politicians, it’s all about appearances, about what everything looks like on the outside. At the end of the day, they don’t care how many people in the drug business die, as long as it doesn’t get traced back to them. That’s why Hank is threatening to cut all ties.

Again, when one thing goes to shit, everything goes to shit.

Pacho visits him again to talk about a final deal with Cali, but they both know that’s just an excuse for them to see each other one last time.

They drink, they talk, they laugh at each other’s jokes. Everything feels natural and relaxing, because by one in a million chance, they actually enjoy each other’s company. They like each other, a lot, and that fucking destroys him.

When they finally move to the bedroom, Amado wishes time would pause so he can imprint every detail of this experience in his brain, remember every little sound Pacho makes when he’s touched, the way each muscle tenses with arousal, and how those beautiful brown eyes stare right into his when pleasure takes them both over the edge.

He will miss this, he knows, every bit of it.

“Stay.” He says hopefully, desperately. “We can start something on our own. It’ll be good, just like the old times.”

The old times are slipping away, faster everyday and he can’t stop it. He wants Pacho, needs Pacho to be here, to remind him that it’s possible to have something actually good come out of this business, besides money he can’t spend in ten life times.

“I can’t. You know I would if I could.” Pacho’s smooth voice sounds even deeper, almost like a sigh, and there’s nothing other than honesty and sorrow in his words. “Gilberto, Miguel and Chepe are my family. I love them. I can’t leave them when they need me the most.”

Amado feels a lump in his throat, and he has to blink away the burning sensation behind his eyes. He will miss Pacho, but that’s not even the worst part.

The worst part is he sees it now: not even Pacho can give him what he craves for.

It’s not sex, and even a good friendship isn’t enough. The way Pacho is willing to risk everything for his Cali family, the way Acosta was willing to die for Mimi, that is what he wants. And he hasn’t felt that since he lost his daughter.

He wants someone. What’s the fucking point to get on top of the world only to end up dying alone in a ditch or a small cell?

“Hey, Amado…” Pacho touches his cheek, uncharacteristically gentle, eyes filled with genuine care and empathy. “You will find your way out too, and you will find someone to do it with. You know that, right?”

He doesn’t know how Pacho read his mind, and also doesn’t know the answer to that question, but he smiles and says yes, because both of them deserve to hear it. They should end on a hopeful note, just like how they started, believing they were building the biggest collaborative empire in narcos history. Now, they need to believe they will get out of it.

Preparing for a grand escape plan is not easy, especially for someone like him: the number one target on everyone’s list, since he’s doing the biggest numbers.

There are several times when Amado’s having too much stress and not enough sleep, he has an almost unstoppable desire to call Mayo. It’s like a habit now, the perfect person to have an hour of good time with just to chase some temporary release before he has to get back to reality. At least that’s what he’s telling himself. It’s just the sex, and the good food, and the occasional entertaining conversations, and… He shakes himself out of it. This is not a good time for that. There won’t ever be a good time again.

Surprisingly, Mayo ends up contacting him first, saying they have business to discuss. Honestly, they do. Things in Tijuana are getting too loud, which can’t be good for his already challenging escape plan. And speaking of that, he should at least have the decency to let Mayo know, not about his plan of course, but just the fact that their deal, cooperation and whatever else is over.

Amado should have reached out first, but he has been delaying it because he’s been busy, because there are a hundred more important things to take care of, because Mayo probably doesn’t even need it — such a gesture is never expected from people like them.

All these are true, but none of them is the most crucial reason.

He doesn’t want to.

This is the most silent conversation they’ve had, even tenser than the first time they met, or the first time they fucked. He used to think it was impossible to have an awkward interaction with Mayo. The man has many talents, but the most of them all is his forever easygoing demeanor. It has always been comfortable to be around him, until now.

“So, is the rumor true?” Mayo takes a small sip of beer and sets the bottle neatly on the coaster.

“What rumor?” It’s not a rhetorical question. There are ten new rumors every hour these days.

“You know, about Cali.” Mayo smiles and tilts his head suggestively, and the air is filled with a dangerous sense of provocation, dancing on the edge of offensiveness. “People have been talking, but who knows better than you? You are the one with the relationship.”

The words are spoken in a gentle, teasing tone, almost warm, yet Amado feels himself freeze, muscles tensing up instinctively like he’s about to enter a shootout.

He bites out the word in a flat tone. “Relationship?”

“Yeah? I mean, we’re all transporting their products, but you are the only one they have a close relationship with. Everyone knows that.”

Amado slowly leans closer, usually that would be a gesture of intimacy between them, but now it only carries threat and pressure. “What are you trying to say, Mayo?”

“That they’re getting out of the business?” Mayo shrugs and picks up the beer bottle again, casually taking another sip, and just like that, the air is again filled with a relaxed atmosphere. “They’re your supply, and right now my supply is you, so I need to know if that’s true.”

Amado stares into Mayo’s eyes, hoping to see something in the other man’s eyes that can give him away: nervousness, challenge or even smugness, but there’s nothing besides curiosity, as if that provocative stare earlier only existed in Amado’s imaginations.

Mayo silently holds his gaze, completely chill like he has nothing to hide, and if Amado knows anything about the man, is that he can maintain that pretense for as long as he wants.

Amado sighs and leans back into his chair. “It’s true.”

“I see.” Mayo nods, seemingly not surprised at all. “Things are changing fast these days, huh?”

“They are.”

“Well, guess I’ll get going then, a lot to take care of.” Mayo finishes the beer, grabs his cowboy hat and starts walking away, but then he stops, turning back to Amado again.

“Hey you know what? Why don’t you fly me back to Mazatlán?”

“…What?”

“You’ve been on all my boats, but I’ve never been on one of your planes.” Mayo leans sideways on a wall, a pretty clear gesture to show he’s not leaving until he gets what he wants. “That doesn’t sound fair, does it?”

It’s a silly question. Since when is fairness ever a consideration in their business? But this isn’t a business request.

This entire meeting has little to do with business.

Mayo doesn’t hide his surprise and confusion when they get out of the car at the end of a dirt road, surrounded by sparse desert plants.

“What, didn’t meet your expectations?” Amado feels the corners of his mouth curving up as he leads them through a narrow path into an open area covered by bushes and large stones, where a few small but efficient planes are hidden. If he has a choice, he rather spends more time here, out in an open field with his planes. He can fly away anytime, get up there in the sky and let everything fade away. How nice would that be?

“Maybe? I thought it would be fancier, you know, like your house.”

Amado snorts, “I’m sure the DEA would love that too.”

“Fair enough, so which one’s your favorite?”

“None of them. My favorite one, she is a bit too old to fly now.” Amado answers truthfully. There’s no need for tests and games now. This is the last time.

“I get it. It’s like your first love, never easy to let go.” Mayo nods, not in a casual, dismissive way, but like he truly understands, and maybe he does. Maybe Mayo also bought his first boat on a payment plan, and kept it running as long as he could.

Amado doesn’t know if that’s really the case because he never asked, and it’s too late to ask now. So he simply walks to a plane and unlocks the door.

Mayo climbs into the co-pilot seat, not hiding his curiosity as he observes the hundreds of buttons on the control panel, and even touches a few without asking. Amado’s pretty sure Mayo did that just to push his buttons.

“Yeah, this is too fucking complicated.”

“They’re pretty intuitive once you understand them.” Amado quickly completes the checklist before taking off. It’s like muscle memory to him now. “I like it more than driving.”

“Oh I’m sure! At least there’s no traffic up there.” Mayo laughs, and it sounds no different than their countless previous encounters. Amado swallows down the uncomfortable sourness in his chest, silently moving the plane to the runway.

“Put your headset on.”

“Yes sir.” The teasing voice comes out of his own headset and it makes his neck tingle. It sounds too close, like a whisper right into his ear.

The runway looks unimpressive but it’s very well maintained. Within a minute, they’re smoothly going up in the air.

Once they reach a stable attitude, he immediately hears Mayo’s voice coming from the headset again. “So how good of a pilot are you?”

Amado scoffs, “what do you think?”

“I don’t know, maybe you’ve gotten rusty? It’s not like you need to transport your own cargo these days.”

Amado rolls his eyes. “If you’re challenging me to do tricks in the air, it’s not fucking happening.”

“What? No! Why would I…” Mayo bursts out laughing, “I have something else in mind.”

“No.” Amado hears the word coming out of his own mouth before Mayo’s hand reaches his thigh.

“Why not?”

“Do you want to die?”

“I thought you were a good pilot.” The hand slowly moves closer, skillful fingers closing around his belt buckle, “a very good one.”

“Stop it.”

“Calm down. We won’t be landing in a while, right? I’m not a pilot but I know this is the easy part.” His belt buckle opens with a click. He didn’t actually hear it with his headset on, but somehow he felt the sound.

Mayo was right. There’s not much to do until he starts the landing process. Sure, it’s still reckless to get a handjob while flying, but that’s not why he can’t do it.

He’s already enjoying everything too much as it is.

“Mayo, stop it right now.” He says that in the most threatening tone he can manage at the moment, but even he can hear the subtle shakiness.

He hears a scoff, and then his zipper opens. “I don’t think you mean that.”

Soft fingertips meet his growing desire, and there’s no way to explain, nowhere to hide.

No. This is not happening.

He grabs Mayo’s hand, yanks it out of his pants and throws it to the other side of the cockpit like a piece of hot metal.

Amado hears a loud bang, and from the side vision, he sees Mayo’s body tense up at the impact. He expects a painful groan, but no sound is coming through his headset.

He sighs and turns to look. Mayo’s balling his left hand into a fist. It looks red with a few small cuts. Maybe it hit an uneven surface on the control panel.

Mayo silently looks up and meets his gaze, and for the first time, he sees a crack of that seemingly undisturbable front. He sees rage, raw and uncontrolled, natural. If Amado weren’t still controlling the plane, he would definitely be punched in the face now.

“Did anything break?”

“No.”

“Ok.”

He wants to say more, maybe even apologize, but then decides against it. He wishes he could do something without much talking, like offering an ice pack. Then he remembers he can actually do that.

“There’s a first aid box at the back if you need it.”

“Ok.” Mayo says, but doesn’t go get it.

They spend the rest of the flight in complete silence. When they’re approaching Mazatlán, Amado nearly makes a comment on how beautiful the sea is, just a natural reaction, but then he bites his lips and swallows the words back.

The landing is as smooth as the take off. Amado turns off the engine, and suddenly all background noise disappears.

Mayo gives him one last look, neither hostile or friendly, just acknowledging his existence.

“It was a good ride, for as long as it lasted.”

Then he opens the door and steps off. Amado watches him walk away. He thought it would feel different, more significant in a way, but it’s not. It’s just a walk, probably a regular occurance for Mayo, walking away from someone, forgetting everything they offered and didn’t offer, and just like that, simply onto the next journey.

Always better to be my own boss.

He’s a man of his words, and Amado respects that.

It takes another three weeks to get everything ready: house, money, securities, the exact plane he needs to fly. He thought about every possible way that things could go wrong and how to counter each scenario. It’s the best plan he could come up with, and if that doesn’t work…well, there’s an end to everything.

It’s 6 pm in the evening. Amado sits alone on the grand staircase, looking down at the luxurious living room. He once overheard a maid telling a gardener the sunset looked gorgeous from the floor to ceiling window in this living room. He didn’t pay much attention, pretty much forgot about it right after. But just earlier today it suddenly came back to him, because he wanted to watch the beautiful sunset from his home at least once.

In two days, he will be gone.

He slowly sips a glass of whiskey, watching the sky get darker. Maybe he’s supposed to feel some kind of tranquility. Things might not go as planned tomorrow, he knows that and has made peace with it more or less. Whatever happens, he’s had an exciting life, more exciting than most.

Still, he can’t shake the restless feeling in his chest, and deep down he knows why. It’s been there since his last trip to Mazatlán.

Mayo might have gotten the closure he wanted, but Amado hasn’t.

He’s been telling himself it doesn’t matter either way, but that’s a lie. He’s never been someone to leave a loose end of any kind. He’s never been a coward since he got into this business, and he’s certainly not going to be one at the end of it.

Amado gets up from the stairs, grabs a jacket and walks out of the door.

It’s already pitch dark when he gets to Mazatlán, completely alone. Ironically, that reminds him of their first few encounters, always in the darkness that hides them from everyone else, as well as themselves.

He knows where Mayo lives. He’s known it for a very long time, but never had a reason to visit without an invitation, until now.

The guards by the door look equally perplexed and scared, and Amado wonders if their patrón ever informed them of this possibility, if Mayo ever expected him to intrude.

The door opens after several minutes, and through some complicated corridors, he’s led to a cozy room that looks like a study. The light is dim and intimate, the armchair feels soft. Everything here is screaming for something to happen, except the owner himself.

“What a big surprise.” Mayo gives him a smile across from the large wooden desk, appropriate and polite.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“Does it matter if I do?”

Amado looks away for a second. “Maybe not.” It’s true. Once he’s gone it wouldn’t matter.

“So? This must be something important.”

“No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just…I didn’t make it clear last time.” He takes a deep breath, and then slowly exhales. “I told you about the supply, but…”

He stops mid-sentence. He’s practiced this over a hundred times in his head on the way here, but there is no other way to say I’m disappearing for good without actually saying it.

“You won’t see or hear from me again,” he ends up saying. It’s the closest to truth he can afford to share, “for quite a while.”

“I see.” There’s a second of surprise on Mayo’s face, but he immediately looks away to hide it. Then it’s completely gone when their eyes meet again. “Maybe laying low for a while isn’t a bad idea, considering all that’s happening.”

Part of Amado wishes Mayo to say something else, to give a hint that he knows what’s really happening, so there is at least one person in the world that understands.

But why should Mayo understand? It’s not like he knows much about Mayo either. Amado looks at the artworks and books on the shelf behind the desk. Are they just decorations or do they have more meanings? He doesn’t know, does he?

“You’re gonna be ok? With supply and everything?”

Mayo chuckles, relaxed and genuine just like the good old times. “You know me, Amado.”

“Yeah. Always been your own boss, right?”

He feels the smile on his own face as they look at each other. There is no tension or sorrow, just a peacefulness that makes his stomach warm.

“Oh, I almost forgot! Since you’re here…” Mayo opens a drawer and takes out a small box. “I wanted to give it to you last time when you flew me back, but you know, plans change.”

It’s not wrapped or decorated in any way, just a plain black box. He gives Mayo a questioning look, but the other man just shrugs, so he opens it.

It’s a small sculpture of a boat, not like the ones Mayo uses to transport shrimp and coke, but a dreamy sailboat with exquisite pink and golden patterns, like something that belongs to a princess in fairy tales. Under the boat, white waves are curling on the crystal blue ocean, but they also look like sky and clouds.

And on the boat is a dark-haired little girl in a long white dress. Her eyes are closed and her lips are tilted up into a sweet smile. She’s holding a bible to her chest, a cross dangling from her neck.

Right below where the girl is standing, on the side of the boat, it writes Anna.

Amado opens his mouth to say something, but he feels his throat close up. Suddenly it’s hard to make a sound or even breathe.

“At first I wanted to make a plane that takes her to heaven, but then I figured it might be too modern for God.” He hears Mayo speaking again. Maybe he’s been silent for too long, but his brain can’t even register the words he’s hearing. “I mean, the ark was a boat, right?”

“I…” He tries to speak again, and his voice comes out hoarse and strained. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Hey, it’s ok, really!” Now somehow Mayo also seems to be panicking a little, which is almost a miracle. “It’s not like I made it myself. I just paid someone to do it and it’s not even expensive.”

Amado traces the word Anna with his fingertips, feeling the delicate design. All of a sudden a trigger in his brain is flipped, releasing a piece of memory, with Pacho’s voice echoing in his ears.

You will find someone.

He already has, when he wasn’t even looking.

He was just fucking blind.

He reaches over and grabs Mayo’s hand.

“Come with me.”

“…What? To where?”

“I’m not laying low for a while. I’m leaving, forever, in two days.”

“Oh! Ok…that’s…” So many turbulent emotions flash through Mayo’s face, and Amado has never seen something more vivid, more real. “And you said…What are you asking exactly?!”

“I know I should have said something sooner, way sooner, but it’s now or never.” Amado feels the hand under his palm tense up, so he rubs circles on the skin soothingly. “And I don’t want it to be never.”

“You…” Mayo stares at him completely dumbfounded, speechless. Maybe he deserves some kind of award just for that. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am. Look, just think about it. How long are you gonna keep doing this? And what’s your end goal? To make bigger numbers than me? Than Cali? Escobar?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I know, I’m not…” He feels Mayo trying to pull the hand away, so he lets it go out of respect. “You’re right. That’s none of my business, but I know one thing.”

He looks around the room at the tasteful decorations representing their owner’s wealth. “All these… They’ll be gone when the end catches up, one way or another.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

Mayo remains quiet and expressionless for a while, and Amado waits patiently, more than willing to give him the time. But then his entire figure hardens. “So that’s what this is all about.”

Amado senses something is terribly wrong, but he doesn’t know what. “What do you mean?”

“Well let’s see, where do I begin? The government was onto you, you lost your supply and your Colombian boyfriend dumped you. So you came up with an escape plan, which was a pretty good idea. But when the 48 hour count down began, you had some kind of…fucking existential crisis, so you came here to grab the first person you could think of, to bring them like a bag of cash.”

“What?! No! How did you even…”

“No? Really?!” Mayo abruptly stands up and bangs on the desk with both hands, so hard that he feels the floor vibrate a little.

Amado leans back into his chair out of sheer instinct. He’s not frightened by the outburst, but he is genuinely, wholeheartedly in shock.

Mayo glances at the door and lowers his voice, but the menace it carries only increases. “Tell me again, when are you leaving?”

“In two days?”

“How long did it take for you to prepare?”

“…Several months.”

“And how long have we known each other?”

He looks up to meet Mayo’s eyes again, and he sees it, the thick layer of pain shadowing all the anger.

Mayo balls both hands into fists, slightly trembling with tension. Under the table, Amado holds the sculpture tightly, its hard edges digging into his palm. It hurts.

Maybe Mayo should have just punched him last time on the plane after they landed. He would have deserved it, and Mayo could have saved himself some trouble.

But nothing happens, just like nothing happened last time. Eventually Mayo lets out a long sigh and sits back down.

“I hope you can get away, and I’m not telling this to anyone.” Mayo takes out a cigarette and lights it, taking a long drag. “But get the fuck out of my house.”

Amado feels his body burning, but there’s also a scary numbness, like his brain literally just overheated his entire body because it couldn’t handle everything that was going on.

He swallows and puts his hands on the armrests, bracing himself to stand up, then turns around to walk away.

“I’m sorry.” He says, when he reaches the door. The words came out on their own, surprising himself. He turns around, truly one last time.

“I’m sorry. I mean it.”

“I said get out.”

Amado spends the next two days in autopilot mode. He already knows everything that needs to be done, so he just does them, but it feels more like accomplishing a preassigned task rather than going to his freedom. He doesn’t know what happens after, and he barely made sense of what happened before, so he is simply going to execute the plan. It’s his only option now.

He hugs his brother one last time when they get to the deserted secret airport, watching the car drive away. Then he just stands there by himself for a few minutes, registering the fact that this is really happening. Then he starts to move his luggage into the plane. There are quite a few bags, understandably, so it will take him several trips.

When he’s about to walk out of the plane to grab the last two duffel bags, he hears a car coming. Silently cursing, Amado takes out his gun and takes cover inside the plane, peeking out of a window.

The person walks out of the car.

His breath hitches.

Amado slowly walks down the air stair, pistol pointing at the ground. “You’re not here to shoot me, right?” It’s meant to be a joke, but he can’t rule that out completely based on their last meeting.

“Honestly? I considered it.” Mayo leans back on the car and crosses his arm, “but that doesn’t fit my best interest.”

“How did you even find me?”

“You brought me here once. Did you forget that too?”

He doesn’t respond, and doesn’t need to. They both know that doesn’t answer the question.

“I saw the news for the last two days. They’ve been seizing your large hangers, thinking they’ve got you pinned down. But I thought hey, maybe that was the plan, a well timed distraction.” Mayo shrugs, “Believe it or not, it was a blind guess, just good luck.”

Amado turns the safety back on and tucks the gun away. This isn’t luck. Mayo knows him, more than either of them is willing to admit.

“Alright, say I believe that.” He takes a few steps closer tentatively. “Why are you here?”

“I thought about what you said. Most of it was fucking bullshit, but you did have one good point.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” Amado adjusts his jacket. All of a sudden he’s feeling the chilliness of the evening breeze, like his body is coming out of the robotic state.

“I don’t want to wait for the end to catch up, and if I’m being honest, with how things are going these days? When the time comes for me I might not have a plan better than this one that you spent months working on, whatever it is.”

Mayo walks to the back of the car and opens the truck, revealing several large bags.

“So I’m taking advantage of this good chance right now.”

“So…you’re basically using me.” There’s a subtle sourness in his chest, but he knows he’s smiling.

“Well, you used me first for a fucking long time, so now it’s my turn.”

Amado walks over and helps him take out two bags. His own luggage on the ground can wait a little.

“Then let’s call it even?”

“I don’t know, depends on where we’re going.”

“Chile.”

Mayo thinks about it, and then smiles.

“Deal.”

“We also need to hide your car.” Amado says, after they moved everything into the plane.

“Don’t worry about it, José will take care of it later.” Mayo waves him off, “I do have some plans, you know?”

“Wait…José? José the restaurant guy?!”

Mayo pauses for several seconds, and then bursts out laughing. “Right, I never told you!”

“Never told me what?”

Mayo pats him on the shoulder, with that exact same casual playfulness as before. The only difference is this time Mayo lets the touch linger there.

“I’ll tell you everything later. We’ve got time.”

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