BLACK AND BLUE - howard/jimmy, dead dove smut, angst, dub-con
[591 words - unfinished]
It's 11pm, and Jimmy is sat on his couch, eating dinner and watching shit TV, when there's a knock at the door.
There's nobody else home, so he sighs and puts his food down. "Hello?" Jimmy calls, still sat on the sofa. When there's no response, he begrudgingly walks over to the door.
"I have to do everything myself around here..." He grumbles, still thinking about his uneaten dinner. He opens the door with gusto; it better be important if it's interrupting his evening.
Howard's standing there, drunk and unimpressed. "Hi Jimmy." He says shortly. "Can I come in?"
Jimmy steps to the side and lets him pass. "What's this about, Howard?" He frowns and shuts the door. Howard doesn't know, does he? He couldn't know it was all Jimmy, could he?
"You won." Howard tries to take a deep breath but laughs at Jimmy's fake confusion. "Of course you have to play it this way; you're so very good at it. I was wondering that too. What it's all about."
Jimmy scoffs and rolls his eyes, but Howard still continues. "I mean, what do you tell yourself? What justification makes it okay? Howard's such an asshole that he deserves it? So? What is it? I sided with Chuck too often?"
"I don't know what you mean, Howard." Jimmy says, pointedly keeping his innocence and confusion to rile the man up more. It's funny to see him like this, all ruffled and nothing like the normal, sharp Howard you see at work.
Howard blinks away tears and looks at the floor. "What allows you to do this to me? Because this isn't just a prank, no. This goes beyond throwing bowling balls on my car. This took planning, coordination..." He grimaces in disgust at the thought. "I mean how many weeks? Or was it months? It couldn't have been easy. So tell me: why? Why go through this elaborate plot just to... burn me to the ground?"
Jimmy wanders back to the couch and sits down. He lazily flicks the TV back on and picks up his food. "I don't know what you mean, Howard." He repeats.
The dismissal seems to be the final straw for him. His eyes are so wide and sleep-deprived that he almost could be on drugs. "You are soulless, Jimmy, you can't help yourself. Chuck knew it. You were born that way. You have a piece missing. I- I thought you did it for the money, but, now..." He's almost at the point of screaming at Jimmy now, his hate-fuelled voice hoarse.
"...it's so clear. Screw the money, you did it for fun. You get off on it. You just love making me suffer, do you?" Howard stalks over to where Jimmy is sitting and hits the food out of his hand. "Well, well now it's my turn, Jimmy. It's my turn to get off on your suffering."
Jimmy feels his heart stop and he stares up at Howard standing over him. Is this everything he's ever wanted? Yes. Does that stop him from being scared for his life? No.
"I'm going to fuck you up." Howard hisses, flecks of spit hitting Jimmy's face.
Howard climbs on top of the man, straddling his hips and unbuckling his pants. He's surprised at the lack of resistance from Jimmy, but perhaps he's just too scared.
"Take your pants off." He orders as he pulls his own down to his ankles. Jimmy hurries to obey, missing the buckle twice with his haste. He feels dizzy staring at Howard's dick.
PUPPY AMONG WOLVES - nachomingo/lacho, degradation, humiliation, blackmail
[448 words]
Domingo.
The boy who had been his best friend, his ride-or-die, since that very first day of kindergarten. The boy who he shared crayons, toys and memories with. The man who he now shares love with.
Domingo. He's the reason Nacho's in this position, on his knees, licking the boots of Lalo, his boss and cartel don. It's stupid, it's embarassing, it's downright demeaning, the things he would do for Domingo.
He hates the way he always has to look out for him. A puppy among wolves, that's what he is. Unable to defend himself against the big, bad ones like Eduardo Salamanca.
And so that's how Nacho finds himself cleaning the don's boots with his tongue, begrudgingly dragging it up and down the dirty leather. He can taste blood in his mouth, and he doesn't want to think about who's it might be.
Domingo, quite unknowingly, is being held at gunpoint. His life is being threatened, and for what? So Nacho can degrade himself to this? It's ridiculous, he thinks, that Lalo would go to these lengths. Nacho would probably do it if he was the one at the firing end of the gun.
Nevertheless, he's on his knees, glaring up at Lalo, smug and grinning with a devilish glint shining his eyes, and cleaning those boots like his life depends on it. And it does, in some ways. For who is he without Domingo?
"Going to go any faster than that?" He doesn't need to look at Lalo's face to see the leering grin surely spread across it. He nudges his boot into Nacho's teeth.
Furiously, Nacho speeds up, pushing his tongue harder and faster against the stupid blue loafers he had come to hate. He glowers into the spit-slick leather, no longer daring to even look at Lalo wrong in fear of what might happen.
It felt stupid now, dedicating all his worry and devotion to his father, when it was obvious Lalo would never go for him, not as long as he still believed that "la familia es todo", not as long as he still believed himself respectable enough to not threaten Manuel. So, of course he would turn to the next best thing; Domingo. Not technically family, but close enough to spark real fear and obedience into Nacho.
Despite his wishful thinking, he can't turn back time, no matter how hard he prays. He's just stuck like this, Lalo's lackee, Lalo's plaything, maybe even Lalo's fucktoy, until the day him and Domingo can escape, run away to someplace far and safe, away from all of this.
But until then, he'll lick shoes for Don Eduardo if it means keeping his best friend safe.
LIVE FOR ME - teen & up, major character death, lacho, heavy angst, suicide, suicide notes
[543 words]
"Dear Lalo,"
Nacho was in the bathroom when he picked up the fated call. The one instructing him to open the gate at 3am sharp and allow assassins in to murder his boyfriend.
"I am so sorry that it has come to this."
He didn't know what to do. He couldn't let the assassins in, but he equally couldn't disobey Gus's orders.
"I want you to know I love you more than anything."
He had to decide between killing the love of his life or his father. Neither option seemed feasible.
"Please, please don't hate me for this."
He returne back to the car that Lalo was still working on and pretended everything was fine. It was all he could do until he decided.
"Fring left me with no choice. It was you or my father."
Later that night, Nacho found himself unable to sleep. He paced his room, tears stinging his eyes and dropping to the floor.
"I couldn't let them in. But I couldn't tell you, either."
Eventually, he found himself at the desk, penning a letter for his love. He had to explain.
"No matter what I could've chosen, I would have lost somone I loved."
Once the letter was finished, he folded it and wrote another message in large letters on the back. He slipped it into his back pocket and left the room. He needed to to outside to clear his head.
"I can only pray you forgive me, amorcito."
To his surprise, Lalo was sat by the fire outside, staring at him. Nacho was welcomed over and the pair sat with comfortable banter.
"This choice was not an easy one. I know you will be angry at me for choosing it, but I promise it's the best thing for us."
Lalo asked him to get the Louis XIII. Nacho, spotting his opportunity, acted confused enough by the instructions that Lalo ended up going to get it himself, leaving him alone.
"Don't hate me. It's all I ask."
Nacho pulled the letter from his pocket and laid it on the table.
"Protect my father. Keep him safe, please."
Nacho takes the gun out of his waistband and stares at it heavy in his hand.
"Always remember, amorcito, I love you more than anything in the world."
He raises it to his temple just as Lalo comes back out of the house. He hears glass shatter and Lalo yell something, but his ears are ringing too loudly to understand.
"Goodbye."
Nacho pulls the trigger.
"Love,"
Lalo feels as if his soul has been ripped out.
"Nachito."
Lalo drops to his knees. He screams. Lights turn on. Assassins past the gate start to fret.
"(There are assassins outside the hacienda."
Lalo falls to the floor. He's still screaming. His throat is hoarse. He pulls together the last of his energy and stands up.
"Fring sent them. He told me to let them in."
He reaches out for his lover. He feels his neck for a pulse long gone. He closes Nacho's eyes.
"I couldn't let them kill you. I also couldn't let him kill my father."
He hears gunshots past the gates. Nothing hits him. The assassins are dead. He might as well be.
so sorry to y'all waiting for chapter 2 of push & pull. just realised i have very little idea of how poker works, and so cannot currently write the Poker Scene™
