#david barron

[thesolotomyhan]

a/n: slowly coming back into it but i was writing something else on and off while i was away but i havent finished it so i just ultimately decided to do another one of these just because i love how i can focus on so many characters and just type away so have this while i figure some things out on my end for you all <3

warnings: theres only nsfw for like 2 characters but ill let you know lol

mayo: wedding :)

strap tf in because ever since writing that ramon wedding hc i have not stopped thinking about that topic but with my mayo and i have little to no shame to admit to you all that i have thought about his ass and a wedding subject more than once but i just never got around to it but 👀👀 lemme say i am having troubles with myself on deciding what i can briefly talk about and not get myself carried on writing a whole ass presentation,,,,, i just ,,,,, want to at least get an idea out here 👀 see if anyone could be interested 👀👀 but OHHHH i just i want to scream into the abyss when i think about this subject with HIM <\3 like me muero mE MUERO because i know for a mf’ing fact my consentido would call you “mi esposa” even before you two actually get married,,, like he’s emocionado about the whole thing as it leads up to that day :((( him introducing you to everyone new as like “mira, deja les presento a mi esposa,.... mi chula” :(( ,, this stupid smile on his face as he lets his arm wrap around your waist and keep you close to him as he introduces you when you two are barely engaged or something and i dont know why that makes me fall to my knees and sob,, wow and just imagining how this man would stress yet be as cool as anything to make this the most perfect day for you,,,because as i have kind of briefly gone over,,, once this mf actually falls in love, que hasta he forgets anyone else other than you exists,, you know marriage is not far from the path hes on,, and it just comes naturally,,, so when i imagine that the day does come,,, he makes this shit the biggest thing ever in sinaloa,, its going to last for dayssss,,  complacendote in any and everything,, making sure to not have you have any stress on your head all day long,, he just wants to see you to be happy, blissful and smiling all day long because of him yyy ay cabron hold on,,,, i just without getting too into this knowing myself,,, can you all just take a minute and imagine the grand ass church/ceremony he would do this at,,, una pinche elegancia that even guero is questioning how much money this mf blew for your wedding day,,, el todo pinshe pienado :( the simple FucvinG waY HE would look at you throughout the whole thing like you just gave him the best regalo de la vida :((( him probably wanting to just hold your hand for all 24 hours of that day and more,,, the little glances and small smiles he would give you throughout the vows down until he can kiss you :((((((( and the reception yalll ayyy no,,, him not letting you be away from him for more than 2 inches,, :( walking around together como marido y mujer and shit :((( dancing to your song ,,,, the honeymoon after wards :))))))) ayyy GUEY im sorry ill stop i just- wedding+mayo=my entire heart and i dont want to dump that whole thing just yet on this available space i have here :(( but this has been my proposal on the idea :( ok bye now

rafa- (slight/only a mention because i cant stop myself)

ingasu ,,,, mi pinshe bonbonnnnnnnn ,,,, i have a need  a want to get a ramble of thoughts out and this is what this is,, but dont worry ill come back for him when i have a straight mind and an actual structure of writing for him because OUGHHH how can i not?  now  wow get out of my mf’ing way here becauseeee lord just when i think the wakanda forever trailer couldnt top the idea of chadwicks tchalla character coming back again :( +++ the announcement they made that tenoch would be playing namor a while back,,,,  these mf’s actually  decided to kill me and add in namor’s character in the trailer as well when i had already fell to my kness at a walmart parking lot just by the first second of that trailer,, and i just descended upon the clouds themselves when i saw him my god i was not expecting to be fed so well early on,,, because now let me guide you all back to watch the trailer if you didnt catch a good ass glimpse like i did to look at this bitch’s physique ,,, like get a good fucking look at this mfs back,, yess his fuckin back ,, his damn shoulders i cRY YALL ,, thAT LaDies and gentlemen,, is a man ,, now LISTENNN I AM not a marvel blog whatsoever but i would be lying through my soul if i told yall those 2 second clips of him on that trailer awoke and brought back my unconditional love for him and what better than to add rafa back in this mf and let me respectfully simp for mi pelos chinos consentido de shulada de hombre again,, and i just- i couldnt contain myself imagining the wayyyyyy he would love to let you scratch his back :)) when hes pounding away at youuuuu but damn omg let me just stop,, lol that wasnt planned for him today because i knew this man radiated bde but namor???? tenoch ???? placed to finally extra cherry i needed on top because i just couldnt get that once scene where hes walking into that wedding party with his scarface suit on out of my mind for a while and i just- i could not handle the thought of the two of you turning heads everytime the two of you walk into a building or party because the radiationnnn,, its about the radiation you two set off when youre both walking into a party,, arms tangled into the other as you both walk in,, heads held high off the fucking ground,, both of your outfits being that high end material, that just compliments the others in a beautiful way ,, him leading you around either with you dangling off his arm :) or leading you sit down so you dont get tired :) but ughhh his dumbass smile never wiping off his face because he knows everyone is staring at the two of you ,,just him having a thing for showing you off and it’s the best damn feeling when it’s neither of you trying,, it comes natural with they way the aura is set around you two when you walk into a place and that sets me off,,, And wow,, thank you for coming to my brief brain fart session,, take what i told you today as a topic starter with me  

amado: baile/jaripeo 

ayyyy hasta pego un grito de los buenos imagining something like this with him :( and maybe it’s just meeee because ive been keeping busy going to these and all ;) but imagining pinshe amado going with you :) bailando to like a banda song or something,(im imagining something like y llegaste tu or something more movidita like ayer la vi por la calle because the vueltas would be more fast paced ya know? and i know only maybe a few people are going to understand what im talking about so im sorry if you’re questioning wtf im even saying right now lol)  but anyways i just imagine he would have  his arm wrapped around your back and just holding you close to him when he does he vueltas or the small steps to the rhythm ya know? leading you around the steps, :(  his other hand is just holding una pinshe chela bien fria+ not me imagining how the thought of him drinking his chela while dancing with you had me in a grip im sorry ,,,, and aughhH its something about that image, and the thought of your steps being in unison and flowing as smooth as possible hmnnnn,,,, him vestido de negro because he knows no other colors,, his shirt slightly opened with that chain he has on showing fff- hair slightly down but with that natural flow he has going on with it, your frame being whisked away by his tall ass, and like the hand thats wrapped around you ocsassionaly going down and resting on top of your ass ay his little gold watch glowing from the sun or something and wow ,, his own little smirk plastered onto his face and all, when he tightens his hold around you his reina AUGH,,,,, all while one of your hands are holding the back of his neck, your other on his shoulder ,, you just letting him lead you away, your own small smile on your face ugh byE, i love that image,,,, the two of you probably even lean in to kiss the other when you want ay,,, lowkey humming the songs too and bye i want this with him

ramon:  

yall im so sorry to be in my feelings today but i have been bombarded and read up a lot of nsfw things for ramon lately in this AO and i just lets take a minute to breathe ok you horndogs ,, let me dip my fingers in atleast into these waters slowly again before we go back out into that region once more becauseeeeee i just wanted to voice something on mi niño enamorado because it occurred to me while i was writing this other hc i have in the works and i just, i couldnt help but have the itch to imagine ramon being soft with quality time guys,,, quality time in a relationship is something i see ramon loving to do because he may be rich and seem like the type to be boujee on all his dates which sure,, he might do the first few times with you and all that,, but eventually for him,, to be in the mere presence of you is something he breathes off of and never wants to go without , so let me unroll this out for you all,, because the first thing,,, is the thought of him obviously loving to go out to clubs with you,, i feel as though this has been thoroughly established enough just because of the thought of the two of you being dressed to the ninesss,, hanging off of the other, and dancing up on the other in that close space with the beat of the music surrounding you two,, makes it a whole vibe alright,, and even if you dont want to dance,, the thought of just having you sitting on his lap or right next to him up on the vip section, dressed up but sitting prettily against him as he has an arm wrapped around you is just POETRY, or when youre not with him,, maybe you went to get yourself a drink,, you looking back to wheres he just watching you,, you giving him this soft ass smile and his enamorado ass just flashing you a smile back, eyes lit up with that small glint and all ayy no  le da orgullo al cabron that hes the one youre with :))) or in this second example,, having those video game dates :( because we’ve seen that being consistent with him because in s1 he has going crazy on that retro ass game and in s3 he had his little console :( and ughhh i just couldnt help but almost cry at the thought of him wanting to play video games with you as a date :((( the two of you having the loudest but friendly arguments that it echoes around the house as you play against the other,, a shit ton of snacks dispersed all around the floor of the two of you as you both are solely focused on getting the upper hand on the other, smiles on your faces as you both sit next to eachother on the ground probably from how intense it could get,, the two of you probably sabotage the other in a friendly way just to hear the other scream as one of you gets closer to first place  ay no i cry at that thought because those are definitely going to be core memories <like even the juniors probably even join in when they come around> :(  or even on example #3,,, the thought of having dates over at the others house,, and just cuddled up like,, him laying back with you sitting in between his legs, your back to his chest, curled into him and just watching like ,,,, cartoons :( probably with even more snacks spread out all over the place,,, the volume of the tv damn near filling up the whole house, both of your laughters following after when something happens on the tv, im sorry yall i cry to all of this because its just small moments or even big moments are the biggest thing for him when it comes to you,, doesnt matter as long as hes with you and youre both having fun :(((( se enamora mas mi niño bye (also im totally not listening to ojitos lindos by bad bunny and bawling my eyes out because that is my bebes song that describes what imagine him being for you his nena :((( )

benjamin: 

slow mornings yalL SLOW MORNINGSSSSSSS with benjamin,,,,, allow me to sob but explain because i just get so sentimental and soft around this man, i love him and cherish him but wow,,, now i know you all can tell hes a puntual type of man,, hes never late to shit,, hes on time about everything and i just feel like he likes to be busy doing things all the time so much that he never catches a break because then he would have a breakdown if he even just sits back for once so :))) the thought of you being the cause for a slow morning once for him that unravels his want to do them from then on just :( sets me,,,, and while slow mornings with him i can picture things like maybe just the two of you cuddling in bed,, getting breakfast sent up to the two of you as you just bask in eachother presence :(( or something like the two of you watching the other get ready,,, dropping kisses on eachother every time you pass eachother in the bedroom,, him on his part slacking tf off when he watches you simply brush your hair out or just pick out something for the day to wear when youre just wearing his shirt:( because he definitely just stares at you longingly/lovingly and him def coming up behind you to hug you and just kiss you ughh these are most definitely not off the table but for todays focus,, i just want to say something and start us out on how we got to that stage because  like dont you dare say to me otherwise that he doesnt sleep without touching some part of you or holding you,,, because the generic type of sleep i see him getting is either when youre sleeping on his chest :( or him spooning you from behind and holding you from when he sleeps and shuts his eyes to until he wakes up and has to go ya know,,, and :( i just imagine him waking up before you,, his hair being a big tangled mess, he would have an arm under you to keep you from rolling off his chest :(,, his other hand might be holding yours thats resting on his chest :( im - him just breathing in a deep breath from where he has his face buried into your hair :(,, giving you a small kiss on the top of your head as he just gives you these soft h e a r t eyes as he stares down at your sleeping form :((( stop no one look at me,, and i just imagine him doing like a deep sigh because he lowkey wouldnt want to leave the bed or you,, :((( but him either way, slightly moving out of bed,, but at the slowest rate possible because he doesnt want to wake you up :((( and ughhh him already feeling bad once he feels your arm tighten around him,, youre doing a long sigh signifying your waking up :( and ay no as soon as you open your eyes youre met with his sorry ones :( and your voice asking him where hes going his ass is already sitting hismelf back down telling you he has to go :( but me and him would be lying if he wouldnt go back in bed with you if you asked him,, and omg, i cant because the way you would quite literally tug him back down,, you groggily looking up at him con esos ojitos :( asking him another 30 minutes wont hurt him,, you bet hes smiling down at you and laying down again :(( not even worrying if those 30 minutes turn into an hour as long as youre happy and keep him in place :((( i just- wow this mf turns into a puddle when it comes to you i dont know

kitty: 

now heh i wasnt exactly targeting something exact for him, but i just fell into the mood in wanting to write something for him right now in these blurbs and i just went with what came to mind on the spot which is making out :))) because he def gives off that vibe of wanting to be attached to your lips constantly it’s almost something everyone has to be prepared to walk into when they’re looking for either of you two at some point in time but also because i just want to imagine some soft shit like this where neither of you have to do more other than kissing if you dont feel like it,, its just a way of outing your love for the other by kissing :( a physical thinggg ya know? but either way i imagine the way hes still giving you those ojitos :( , small smile on his face when he leans back away from you just to gaze upon you :( ughh and honestly i wouldn’t be surprised if it’s one of the essential building blocks in your relationship with him im sorry,,, because get this, im just imagining him sitting on the couch, slouched back, with you on top of him :) both of you fully clothed just slightly messy,,, his hands having trouble focusing if they want to rest on your ass or wander up your back, your own hands moving away from his chest :) to hold the side of his face :) the both of you probably having these irresistible smiles as you try to keep kissing the other but instead little breathless giggles keep escaping from the both of you ugh im sorry but :( the thought of him moving one of his hands to cup the side of your face when you both slightly lean away from the other and just stupidly smile as you both look at the other,, a light warmth spreading across both of your faces and cheeks from how close you both were,,, the intimacy of it all making you both go on a high and just want to keep your kissing session going,, him having literal soft he a rt eyes as he just stares up at you :( his other arm securing you even closer to him and his voice coming out lightly and scratchy like “te amo bebe” :(((( bye no one touch me right now 

barron: (***nsfw)

now listen up my barron fuckers   i was going to do a whole soft blurb type of thing right now for him but i know some of you guys are probably on the edge of hitting me across the face for taking my dandy ass time on his nsfw hc,, so im gving you all a small dose today just to tame some hairs alright? alright cool,, because doggy style? is our topic for today and it just  almost screams his name off for me on this topic,, because for one, it’s a rough and dominant vibe that goes along with him just right that it will guarantee to make you lose all common sense and make you sore for the next week but also secondly ,,it gives him a view of being able to see your whole body from behind :) with your ass up in the air :) your hands digging into the material underneath you as youre on all fours :)) him having a death grip on your hips as he pumps into you,,, him def pushing your head back down onto the pillows by tangling his hand into your hair if you start to come up just so he can have that arch for you :)) and ughhh i dont know the thought of you moving one of your hands above you to just grip the sheets as he has you in that position,, your other hand :) coming to lay itself on top of one of his hands on your hip :)) threading your fingers through his and just tightening your grip onto his as he pumps into you in that rough and steady pace ugh,, you :) moving your head to the side and looking over your shoulder at him :) moans spilling past your lips as you scrunch your face together,,, throwing a small smile his way from the way hes making you feel hnnngg,,, omg him leaning his frame over you :)) one of his hands coming to hold your hand thats above your head on the sheets,, his other hand thats threading with yours just guiding you down to touch your swollen clit :) him helping you apply the right amount of pressure that it gets your eyes to roll back as he continues to thrust into you at an angle now,, fuuuc- him biting along that part of your skin where your shoulder meets your neck, just breathing heavily into your ear as your lewd moans continue to come out of you uncontroablly im sorry for this wow 

arturo: (***nsfw)

yeeeeeahhhhh :) giving you 3 total arturo fuckers a taste as well  because he is a  car sex type of beat and im sorry because his pinshes camisas wangas get me , if you know you know,, :)) like you running your hand over his chest underneath hiss shirt as youre on top of him :) neither of you separating from this make out session between the two of you,, the heavy breathing you both would be doing would not help at all but just make the windows fog up,,, him :) struggling to lift this skirt you would be wearing as youre grinding away on top of him with your legs on either side of him,, his groans encouraging you even more and your soft moans only urging him to fumble against you even more :)and  hnnnngg i cant at the thought of him bringing his lips away from yours to kiss your chest,, hurriedly moving your top away from your skin just so he can see the way your breasts spill out for him :) his hands moving to cusp your ass and lift your hips up :) letting him slide into you :) him hissing out into you when he feels your nails dig into his chest :) his name rolling of your lips :) when you toss your head back slightly when you feel him bottom out :) wow his grip just roughly kneading your skin,, getting you to lightly grind your hips against his to get you comfortable :) and just slowly building momentum up until he can have you bouncing on top of him :))) him continuing to leave small marks on your chest as he thrusts up into you,,,  his eyes constantly looking up at you so he can focus on your face,,, audibly grunting out when he feels the pressure continuing to grow as you palm his chest :) your head tilting back down to look at him as you begin to meet his thrusts halfway :)) your entire face just scrunching up as you start to become more and more desperate and youre not sure if its because of the constant rough pumping of him and the way he just has you fucking yourself on top of him or if its because of the heat kicking up a few notches from both your heavy breathing and movements in such a confined space but either way it has you both holding the other like a damn lifeline that bound to explode any minute and i just - wow

güero:

here i go again with yet another pair-able soft topic for him,,,, god man :/ im sorry but güero and benjamin remind me of eachother so much i sometimes mix up writing ideas/topics of the two of them and i just thought i could share that to see if anyone else can relate to me because for one try and convince me otherwise this man,, mi güerito, mi hector is not the most love blinded soul that there is here,, try and tell me he is not the type of partner that is going to put you above all else simply because he’s that infatuated with you and head over heels twice in love with you,, this mf probably has a whole ass wedding plan ready by the first hour of your first date you ever had with him because he would have that sense of when he’s found his one and only :(( try to sit there and tell me he is not late for the most important or little things just because he was so caught up trying to button up his dress shirt but failing to do so at the end of the bed because you were 2 feet away from him getting ready yourself or brushing your hair out because he stops all and any process he was doing simply because he was off in his own world looking at you with that soft enamorado look in his eyes that his eyes would fucking dilate because they’re cast upon you :( ,,, and if he could he would turn into a mush puddle of himself if you catch him looking and flash him a soft smile through the mirror or look over your shoulder at him and give him heart eyes back because i shake at the overwhelming feeling he would feel at that moment because his favorite person, el amor de su vida loves him back the same way he does and that makes his love for you grow every damn day :((( please convince me that he isn’t the type that when you walk into the room while he’s negotiating or talking with some of the guys about the business that he totally doesn’t just forget the conversation at hand,, let his thoughts run off into emptiness and simply just let his eyes zone in on you because you take his breath away it physically hurts his heart to tear his eyes away from you,, his tesoro de su vida :( or that he won’t just drop whatever conversation or task at hand whenever he hears you call his name out because if he’s going to listen to you and help you with whatever problem or question you have, he should give you his 101% attention with that soft low voice of his going “aqui estoy, que paso mi amor” while bringing his hand out to hold yours and guide you towards him so you stand in between his legs :(((,, allowing you the option of you want to sit on his lap so he can wrap his arm around you,, the everlasting longing look in his face if you reach your other hand out and caress the side of his face omg it would make him feel like you gave him the literal tierra y mar to make a planet out of love for you and i crY i absolutely literally bawl to him ayy no GÜEY CALLENSE ill stop here because i have a feeling i could go on for a good hot hour if i continue for my soft bebe :(

miguel angel:

mmmm this man too,, it’s been a hot minute since ive acknowledged him and it’s only because recently i saw an old gif set of him,, and i just couldn’t help but feel incapacitated because i saw that teasing glint in his eyes that he sometimes has and aughh,,,, so for todays focus i wanted to zero in on reassurance because this man would lowkey be a whore for it since he has so many walls built around him, but also because there’s a lot of ways this can go about and i feel vulnerable just thinking about it with him,,, like on exhibit a . i can imagine this going down when he’s doing those business meetings but over dinner type of setting you know? like it could be him stressing over it, or him on the edge of lashing out over some dumb shit his business partner just slipped out,, but i just imagine you :( discreetly moving your hand under the table, gently placing your hand on his thigh or even moving to hold his hand on top of the table like it’s a normal pda thing but for him it’s everything,, but either way when it comes from you it has this calm manner that you wash over him that it just automatically makes his temper go away and be at ease because youre right there with him acting like his personal rock, something I’ve always connected with him when he’s in a relationship :( and this would be one of those examples :( because i just imagine him letting his physical tension go away at that second and glance over at you and it’s like everything wrong just goes away in that second :( i dont know man i just im soft for that type of feeling :( or take exhibit b. as another way i can see this, like you know those times where we sometimes see him panicking before he has to do some big negotiation that could change the business ? yeah , i can just picture something where he’s just waiting for the seconds that feel like hours to him , to count down until he has to leave, but he’s already dressed up but he wouldn’t have his suit jacket on because he feels like the room is burning up, and it’s just so much stress that his collar of his shirt is untucked, his previously slicked back hair is slowly coming out of place, him pacing back and forth, probably muttering so much nonsense inside his head he doesn’t even notice that you walked in the room 5 minutes ago and have been staring him down, slightly worried :( and it’s not until you actually walk up to him, saying his name a bit louder while you place a hand on his shoulder to get him to stop moving that he actually comes back down to earth at that moment :( you seeing this slight panic and vulnerable look in his eyes as you smooth the worry lines over his face :( and just ,,, you giving him. this soft reassuring smile as like a quiet signal for him to blurt out whatever is on his mind (acting like his fucking rock im telling you) :( and youre just fixing him up again, straightening his shirt to look as sharp as ever, smoothing back his hair as you just listen to him and give him some slight encouragement that there’s nothing to worry about :( he’s just overthinking shit and omg i cant because i just imagine this soft loving ass look he’s shooting you with when he hears your soft voice speak back to him, fixing him up better than ever and you don’t even know, you have not a single clue just how much your apoyo and even just the small little things you do help him in more ways than one and just :( you give him the need to push but also be the person for him to let his worries out to with no shame and just breathe for once and i just i love that im sorry yall

enedina:

hahaaa surprise yallll, i actaully decided and braved up to write some words for her today and I’m going to see for the first time if it all works out, so naturally for me so i can feel comfortable and build up from here, we’ll start small, and i wanted to begin with something similar like miguel angel, but platonically and sibling-like for mi reina today,, because oooO the thought of being siblings and having this special bond with her put me in a mood, because when i think of you being siblings with her and how she carries herself,, she definitely ends up reflecting all of that attitude and confidence down onto you,, who she looks at like her hermanita/o no matter what age you reach,, you will always be her bebe who she looks over but makes her right hand man in anything and everything,, so getting quite to the point and cutting things briefly before i make a whole ass essay on being siblings with dina and what adventures that brings i want to set some examples because what does being her right hand mean? what does being her person to lay back on and talk about everything that comes to mind with? :( not only does it mean the two do you are always around eachother like a package duo,,, but it means that she’s always talking aloud everything to you, no matter if it’s the business, what she did last night, or the most random shit but she’s always speaking freely to you and you right back at her :( *special bonding moment sorry* and im sorry to take quite a turn here, :((( but :( that scene where she’s just absolutely devastated when she lost claudio :( not talking to anyone at all :( it doesn’t mean she shuts you out :( because :( you know how i said that her personality def rubbed off on you ? :( it means youre quite fuckkng stubborn when it comes down to shit like this with her,,, that youre the only one she actually lets in :( like I’m imagining you sneaking into her room in the early morning after it all happened :( giving her the tightest hug :( and just letting her break down into you :( and like you know when she’s watching her wedding tape back again? and she’s crying :( i imagine she would be laying her head in your lap :( hugging you :( while she has your arms wrapped around her, just quietly comforting her :( being her rock :( and it just feels like a refresher almost because she knows she doesn’t have to talk at all with you, because you would know her so well, and know how to comfort her at the right temperature until she’s ready :( and ughhh yeah :( i dont know :(

tag list: @coaxium-captain-rex @visintaes @sheeshgivemeabreak @artemiseamoon  @wtfisgoingonlol @boomclapxox @carlislecullenisadilf @ashlingiswriting 

miguel angel tag: @all-tings-diego @xbeyondthegatex​

amado tag: @mylovepedro 

arellano tag: @tinylittleobsessions @curaheed @yourlocalspacewitxch 

benjamin tag: @criatividad-e 

let me know if you want to be added! 

#ismael el mayo zambada #el mayo #rafael caro quintero #rafa caro quintero #amado carrillo fuentes #ramon arellano felix #benjamin arellano felix #arturo el kitty paez #el kitty #david barron #arturo beltran leyva #hector palma salazar #miguel angel felix gallardo #enedina arellano felix #narcos mexico #narcos: mexico #ismael el mayo zambada x reader #el mayo x reader #rafa caro quintero x reader #amado carrillo fuentes x reader #ramon arellano felix x reader #benjamin arellano felix x reader #arturo el kitty paez x reader #el kitty x reader #david barron x reader #arturo beltran leyva x reader #el güero x reader #miguel angel felix gallardo x reader #enedina arellano felix x reader #narcos mexico imagine

[artemiseamoon]

Preview: Luna de Lobo

Multiple characters | Barron x Evie (ofc) , Ramon x Raquel (Ofc) | pt 1 in a oneshot series

Day 4: Day of Conflict| fist fight + “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Read on A03

Words: 2,972

About: With the full moon hanging low in the sky, Evie can’t shake the feeling that something wild is going to happen.

Warnings: an asshole at the bar who comments on ocs weight, fist fight , blood, hookups.

Narco October prompts @narcosfandomdiscord

Evie took a left, already starting to feel the music pulsing from the venue ahead. Tonight, she’d just be a concert goer, no playing, no performing, just taking it all in and hopefully having a good night along the way.

The closer she got to the venue, the stronger the music pulsed, coming through its walls and windows, spilling out onto the street. As Evie approached the door, that same car from earlier zoomed by on the opposite side of the street, then screeching to a halt.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to a set of brown ones looking back at her. The other men spoke among themselves, laughing and giving each other shit. She thought she heard one of them ask, "what's that place?"

Evie wasn't paying attention to anyone but the man in the loose-fitting black top, with two white stripes on it. There was an intensity about him, one she could feel even with the distance.

His calm, attentive, yet “don't fuck with me” vibe made him both intimidating and hot as hell. One of the other guys, who looked younger than all of them, caught the mutual stare and commented something she couldn’t make out.

Usually if a guy was checking her out, there'd be some kind of smile or smirk added - but one never came. This guy was fucking stone. It sent a chill up her spine and turned her on all at the same time.

Evie slid her headphones off with one hand, then pulled her eyes away from the stranger.

“Hey,” she greeted the bodyguard as she turned her cd player off.

Evie glanced over her shoulder once more, seeing the driver of the car, who was also very attractive, step into the street, followed by the others.

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Challenge masterlist

#Barron (narcos mx) #narcotober #ramon arellano felix #Barron x ofc #queued post #ramon x ofc #ao3 fic #narcos mexico #David Barron #not the real guys of course

[narcosmx]

being baby arellano and being into barron would include: the christine incident

author's note:AHHHHHHHHHHH that is all and mention of the shooting and like details about it so if it's triggering pls don't read just for the thirst lol

okay cracks my knuckles let's fuCKING DO THIS

so is this a little off in the timeline with what i've written for baby arellano already in this series? yes. do i care? fuck no

okay wonderful wonderful here we go

so the christine was of course an after party to benjamin's 40th birthday celebration shit

and so of course, never wanting to miss any of the action or free drinks and waltzing around like you own the place you're convinced you're going with the boys

you're not staying home for a quiet night in like all the wifes and babies, you're here to have a good time and you deserve to be able to

just coming out dressed and meeting them at the cars, don't even bother asking benjamin just slip into the car and wait for them

the boys start piling in and ramon is like fuck yeah, now it's a real fucking party and wrapping his arm around you to kiss your forehead

claudio coming in slightly confused, giving you a preplexed look before shaking his head and laughing because he knows better than to get into it with you

pancha and benjamin sliding in at the same time, almost don't notice you

until pancha turns around to tell claudio something and he's like "que chingado" and benjamin wips around, sees you and is like "no, absolutamente no"

and you're like crossing your arms like "ya estoy en el carro, chingao, quiero celebrar mi hermano" essentially if you want me out of this car take me out kicking and screaming i dare you

and benjamin deep sighs and turns around like "pero te comportas, hm, nada de tus pendejadas. los dos" giving you and mon a warning glare before signaling to the driver he can go

let the fucking rager begin ahh

you and mon are the first ones with a drink in your hands obvi

can we just talk about the power move that is walking in to the christine with the arellano felix boys filling in behind you

amazing perfect

anyways

you're having fun but you wanted to go dancing and as you get up to leave benjamin gives you this like ??? raised eyebrow look

before he can yell at you you level with him "me llevo al barron" you offer and benjamin sighs and calls barron over to you

"te la encargo" "sta bien" barron reassures as he's like eyeing all over your body i just

"te comportas" benjamin shouts after you to no avail because you're already giggling and weaving your way past people as barron keeps a cool pace behind you

it isn't until you're out of direct line of sight that barron leans in to grab at your waist and kiss your shoulder "i like the way you think, baby"

and i just dancing up against barron will someone please stop me

grinding on him as he tries to keep his composure and keep aware because he is trying to work here

him grabbing at your waist the second you try to pull away

but it felt like in an instant you were feeling his tug a little bit more urgently as be pulls at your arm

he's pulling you along with you as he gets closer, you're following his line of sight and are like "oh you don't have to worry abou"

he cuts you off, a rare occurence and the honey that is usually dripping fron his voice when he talks to you is filledwith worry now

"take off your heels, get low and stay behind me" he directs in a calm and matter of fact tone which has you following without question

barron turns around to look at you again, making sure you're following along and as you start to say "done" he turns and shoots the two cops in the face

grabbing you instantly, he's like "run" as you go up the stairs, barron doing his best to keep his body in front of you

he leaves you in this little corner against the cement railing of the third floor, a little corner he can defend

"stay here until i come get you, i've got you baby girl"

and while this is going on your brothers are losing their minds, ramon's screaming, benjamin is at the point of throwing up, pancha is looking around frantically but he knows who you're with and if pancha trust anyone it's barron

barron shooting back at chapo, gets back against the wall and sees you there nearly shaking and knows iet's time to go

lets out a few last shots before turning around and barreling towards you "good girl" he praises softly lifting you up to your feet, "lets go"

him again putting his body fully in harms way as he guides you and you're kind of just in this frozen state until you reach the exit and see your brothers making their way down the stairs

instinctually you run over to benjamin and when i say your brothers immediately form this human shield around you i mean fucking in an instant

there's that moment where benjamin is like "pegados" and he means like close against you

sobbing at the idea of that's how pancha got shot in the arm because the boys are absolutely surrounding you making sure nothing touches you

benjamin's leading the charge and won't for a moment let go of your hand even though you're looking behind you feeling this like sense of doom the further away you get from barron

and walking through that like little balcony with your brothers, shots ringing around you and idk why i am like just fascinated with the image of you staring at the top of those stairs as chapo comes around the corner and shoots claudio

you just staring shaking before benjamin is dragging you along and barron comes out the other side giving you this "i got you" look before being pushed down that like kitchen hallway between benjamin and javier who is like holding on to you for support too and you see the first look of like oh shit wtf on benjamin's face you've ever seen

i am just going into the kitchen and they start shooting from the window

ramon fucking tackles you to the floor and is protecting you with his body, i cry covering your ears

the fucking thud at the door as javi and mon put you behind them but fuckING BARRON BARGING IN AHHHH

shooting out the window and yelling instructions at everyone before coming to look you over to make sure you're okay

your brother's yeeting themselves out the window and barron lifting your chin up to look at him because you're shaking and he's like "i told you, i've got you, baby girl" before gently pushing you and like lifting you up out of the window where mon is there to like whisk you off to a car with them

i am just the DEAD SILENCE OF THAT CAR RIDE

ramon is holding on to you, benjamin needed to sit next to you

he's stroking your hair and is like "i'm so sorry, nena. i'm so sorry i let this happen to you" and for the first time in your goddam life you're out here apologizing to min for not understanding why he never let you go to these things

barron driving, looking back at you from the rear view mirror every like 10 seconds to make sure you're okay

i just getting there and everyone jumping out of the car to make sure everyone else gets in and is safe

leaving you there shaking like a fucking leaf in the back sobbing and :(( barron leaping over from the driver's seat and pulling you into his lap

stroking your hair and whispering "i've got you, i've got you. i won't let anything happen to you baby girl"

and i just the moment dina sees you; exchanging that look of pure like terror and grief you're crawling over to sit with you as she's nearly craddling you

dina looking down seeing you sob and shake and her turning to the boys and being like "quiero sus cabezas"

and i just when you guys get to the next safe house the amount of times that ramon thanks barron wow cannot

min pulls him aside and hugs him and is like "gracias por cuidarme a mi angel"

and min assigning him to take care of you as he takes care of his little family and he puts ramon with dina

you asleep in the car, barron coming to pick you up and carry you up to bed

you startle awake in his arms and see it's him :( :( :(

and he's just like "sh, sh don't worry, i'm not going to leave your side. promise"

A LITTLE PINKY PROMISE BYE KILL ME

#narcos mexico fan fic #narcos mexico imagine #narcos mexico imagines #david barron #benjamín arellano félix #ramon arellano felix

[hausofmamadas]

| A DANCE WITH DINARRÓN: Narcos Mexico/Tax Collector AU Crossover |

… aka an exercise in pure OTP self-indulgence but I don’t care cuz I don’t even care

═

Mira, let’s get this out the way, right quick.

If ever you think a Dinarrón post is my last, you’ve probly underestimating my ability to test everyone’s patience by hyperfocusing on one thing and taking to the interwebs to scream about it. Te lo juro I can and will be going for miles with this shit sksjsjsjsj. Having said that, I don’t have thaaat much to scream in all caps about? Like shits kinda speaks for itself.

✷

Howmever I do hereby submit to the official record: David Ayer’s the greatest gift to this earth not stiff competition aksksks bc so sorry Mr. Ayer but most of your movies are hot!garbage pero fun hot!garbage so (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞ Ayer’s actual #1, capital T, Top contribution to history is not the movie Tax Collector but is this scene from the movie Tax Collector

…. of not our David Barron but still a Bobby-Soto-looking Eme gangster named David Barrón Cuevas … FUCKING 💃🏻SALSA💃🏻 DANCING LIKE ARE YOU FORREAL TRYING TO HAVE ME KILLED

✷

And with this gift, Ayer basically fueled the fire for this mind-meld of Dinarrón dancing, aaand it’s basically the sole reason for me waking up in the morning, it basically maaade the Dinarrón Blue Jeans vid bc I basically only decided to add TC clips after seeing the uncanny similarities to Dina’s wedding.

✷

It’s like Ayer actually Freddy Kruegered me, plucked the scene straight from my Dinarrón dreams bc the way it fits so well with the scenes of her lil dance routine have me Lebron-tear-ing to the goddamn moon.

✷

And since I first saw this hot!garbage movie, can conservatively say that I think about this mmm like twice a day. Like they’re not even from the same movie/show, but in my mind, they’re irrevocably fused together like this did just happen. It is canon wedding instead of what actually happened aka Min yelling at Barrón for drinking agua mineral and calling him Pancha’s “gente”

✷

OH AND how weird is it to see our boy smile ?? Barrón barely speaks a word sksks so like smile!??!!?! Pffft pls. Mans is a sicario, no tiene tiempo para eso curling-the-corners-of-his-mouth-to-express-joy mamadas. He’s too busy smoldering for no goddamn reason and white-lady-math-meme-ing his surroundings for threats both of which look remarkably similar re: what his face is doing.

Also this/ks:’kskamb mf hip swivel Dina doin in that last one🥴 sending me into full fucking heart palpitations. Like her booty alone, Jesus that booty does not get the gotdamn recognition it deserves in this fandom.

*slams hands on table like overzealous cop during an interrogation, stands up too forcefully knocks over own chair*

And YOU KNOW WHAT? I’m here before the court today, your honor, to atone for that sin. And since you’re dying to know, yes, being a martyr for The Cause is indeed a thankless job with no 401K or health benefits but I hear they’re gonna paint some real nice pictures of me after I’m dead, so clearly a fair trade.

═

taglist (for the free gifs): @narcolini @narcos-narcosmx @ashlingnarcos @drabbles-mc @rerorero-my-cherry @criatividad-e @cositapreciosa @cherixrosa-archived @artemiseamoon @purplesong1028 @mandaloria314 @tinylittleobsessions @narcosmx @thesolotomyhan

#narcos mexico #tax collector #dina arellano felix #david barron #bobby soto #mayra hermosillo #goddddd you guys I just love these two so much #it’s like a bisexual explosion of epic proportions and i can’t contain it #also everyone #this movie tax collector #such hot garbage but also so much fun like there’s a goth chola named Gata how much better could it get #and fun to make fun of no shade to the cast like they really did their best #(except Shia LaBooger who can get all the way fucked for beating on my girl FKA Twigs .. #don’t give af how method you are you on my list bitch) #and Ayer squandered such a golden opportunity to make an actual good movie sksksks #but like there’s a lot of explosions OH AND FUCKING AND THERE’S INEXPLICABLY GEORGE LOPEZ PLAYING A HARDCORE GANGSTER EME CARNAL SKSKSKS #and did I mention the goth chola named Gata and Bobby Soto being hot #just watch it and cackle like I did

[narcos-narcosmx]

Whyyyy does he look so good tho. Is this a sexy calendar or a mugshot?

It’s a Barron calendar

Why is he always modeling naturally?

#david barron #this sexy bitch #I can’t

[casasupernovas]

Same Alan. Same.

#harry potter #severus snape #half blood prince #alan rickman #david yates #david heyman #david barron

[artemiseamoon-ficart]

My world and yours

Fic info

Status: coming in January (1st chapter up)

#david barron #Barron narcos #narcos Mexico #fic: my world and yours

[artemiseamoon-updates]

My world and yours

Fic info

Moodboards pt one below | Moodboards two | Moodboards three |

#Moodboards #narcos Mexico #david barron #Barron narcos #fic: my world and yours

[appleberrycenter]

Support 🫡

ALSO RHP!!

#montreal canadiens #habs #nick suzuki #juraj slafkovsky #cole caufield #rafael harvey pinard #johnathan kovacevic #michael pezzetta #jake allen #david savard #jordan harris #cayden primeau #Mitchell Stephens #jake evans #brendan gallagher #justin barron #kaiden guhle #holy shit #pwhl montreal

[contemplatingoutlander]

We have entered the Age of the Robber Barons 2.0.

Billionaires like Musk believe they are entitled to do what they want simply because they have hoarded wealth that in any sane or compassionate society no one person should have.

Musk’s family was wealthy to begin with, so Musk does not have a rags to riches story. And according to the above article by David Nasaw in The New York Times, Musk’s businesses have been heavily subsidized by the U.S. government. Below are some excerpts from the article.

Elon Musk is now the proud owner of Twitter. The danger here is not that we have a rogue billionaire in our midst — that has happened before, and it will happen again — but that this one will be in control of what he has rightly referred to as our “digital town square.”

Mr. Musk is the face of 21st-century tech-based, extreme capitalism, just as the robber barons, who built our railroads, and Andrew Carnegie, who supplied those railroads and the builders of modern American cities with steel, embodied the exuberant and expansive industrial capitalism of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. [...] For more than two centuries, American moguls like Mr. Musk have transformed our economy and our daily lives (and enriched themselves) by playing a winning game with governments. They sought and received from those governments enormous subsidies and protection, while demanding that they be left alone to conduct their business as they pleased. The railroad robber barons built their fortunes on government-supplied land on which they laid their tracks and then collected government subsidies for every mile of it.

Carnegie and the steel barons elected Republican lawmakers and presidents committed to protecting their companies’ profits by levying high tariffs on foreign competitors. Mr. Musk’s companies, and his fortune, were built with billions of dollars’ worth of subsidies for his electric-car company, Tesla, and billions more in NASA contracts to ferry American astronauts into space, launch satellites and provide high-speed internet services tethered to his fleet of some 3,000 satellites.

What makes Mr. Musk particularly powerful and potentially more dangerous than the industrial-era moguls is his ability to promote his businesses and political notions with a tweet. The effect of such instant communications is enhanced by his firm understanding of media and market dynamics in this era of meme stocks, day trading, instant communications, misinformation and disinformation. [...] Elon Musk is a product of his — and our — times. Rather than debate or deride his influence, we must recognize that he is not the self-made genius businessman he plays in the media. Instead, his success was prompted and paid for by taxpayer money and abetted by government officials who have allowed him and other billionaire businessmen to exercise more and more control over our economy and our politics.

[emphasis added]

Although he’s been touted as being brilliant, I fear that Musk lacks a more nuanced understanding of societal problems to have so much unelected power over people. Given that hate speech has already begun to increase on twitter since he took over, it looks like his acquisition and hands-off approach (in terms of moderating hate speech and disinformation) will turn twitter into a dangerous dumpster fire.

[edited] 

Manipulated gif sources (before edits): 01 + 02 + 03

#elon musk #the new robber barrons #us politics #oligarchy #billionaires #twitter #david nasaw #the new york times #my manipulated gifs

[artemiseamoon]

Preview: The Beast inside

Ramón, Min, Dina, Barron, Ofc (mentions of others)

Words: 1,577 | A03

October 29 — Day of Horror | Prompt; came back wrong | @narcosfandomdiscord

✨This directly connected to Wolf Pack (another work from this month, I recommend reading that first) ✨

Warnings: shootout mentioned, shifter stuff

Gifs by the only and and only @hausofmamadas 💜*

An: the way there is so much more I wanna do here, so much more detail i wanted to give but no time. So just this one shot, this taste for now. Also, we know Barron is a bad ass and protected them but I needed my bb Min to get hurt for this to work…I have been dying to use that Alfonso gif omg! You dont understand, I’ve been 😫😫😫

Three days ago, no one in Ramón’s family knew he was a werewolf.

Now the cat’s out of the bag. But he had no other choice, not after the events at Benjamin's 40th birthday party.

That pinche pendejo Chapo assaulted them at the club. They barely made it out alive. Claudio was shot in the shoulder, and Benjamin wasn’t so lucky. As Barron led the way out, a shot came dangerously close to Ramón and Benjamin took the bullet instead.

He seemed fine, didn’t even act as hurt as he was. It wasn’t until Barron got everyone to safety that Ramón found his brother fading, a hand to his bandaged wound. It was then he learned Benjamin lost a lot more blood than he let on. Minutes later he passed out and didn’t wake up.

Ramón didn’t know what to do, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let his big brother die. So, he did the only thing that came to mind, he turned him. It was around that time Dina came to check on them and found the scene.

She was the first to know Ramón's secret.

As they stood watch over Benjamin, he eventually regained consciousness, his wound healing itself within minutes.

It would be their little secret, for now, mostly to not freak out their mother.

Dina’s head was spinning, and she didn’t know what to make of all this.

Werewolves? What the fuck….

A03

No tags

@artemiseamoon-updates

Narcotober masterlist

Narcos & narcos mx masterlist

#benjamin arellano felix #narcotober #ramon arellano felix #david barron #Barron narcos mx #enedina arellano felix #werewolf! Ramon #werewolf! Benjamin #Claudio narcos

[narcosmx]

someone yell request or ideas at me so i can write

#narcos mexico imagines #narcos mexico #narcos mexico imagine #narcos mexico fanfiction #benjamín arellano félix #david barron #ramon arellano felix #ismael el mayo zambada #joaquín guzmán #amado carillo fuentes

[hausofmamadas]

| Always short to the gate |

⁂

Pairing: David Barrón & Enedina Arellano Félix

For my df, dear friend, and fellow writer @purplesong1028 - Candyhearts Exchange 2023

Word count: ≈ 7.8K

TWs: Canon-typical violence, descriptions of violence

✷Disclaimer - This is an AU version of Barron, to the point that mans is essentially my OC. So, for purposes of morality/sanity/all that is holy, we disregard Nmx - S3, ep8, Last Dance. For more details, refer -> here. On a similar note: if I have to say “not condoning/glorifying the real people” aka “I don’t sanction the real-life actions of drug cartels,” I implore thee, look where you are. You’re in the wrong place. Best take that elsewhere porque no hay bronca, for civility's sake, we will not be going there✷

Still, these were all things to wish for, not to have. What was left now? What if some things were better dreamt than done? David Barron is in love. He's in love and he does care who knows it. Particularly, if the brutal, savage cartel-boss brothers of the woman he loves, Enedina Arellano Felix, know it. But what’s he to do when he's taken by another powerful cartel leader, in retaliation for Dina's secret side-project moving coke across the Tijuana/San Ysidro border with fellow drug baroness, Isabella Bautista? In the face of a potentially more imminent death para su rayo de luna, can Dina afford to keep both him, and the business she built from the ground up, a secret?

⁂

So, this is it. I finally made it. Staring at the crowd, all the bigwigs laughing and clinking their champagne flutes, and now that I’m here, I can’t figure what all the fuss was about. Because in my whole damn life, I’ve never been to a party like this. Frankly, I’d sooner hit up a barbecue at Chato’s grandma’s trailer or a tailgate in Chicano Park, than show up willingly to a place like this.

The guest list is a family tree of Sinaloan-born narcos and an obnoxious who’s-who of Mexico City elites. Men come down from the ivory tower to grace all the thieves and plebes. Fat cats in pressed gray suits. Although, the champagne-glass pyramid is pretty cool. And somehow, this isn’t even as lavish as last year? At least according to Ramón. When we arrive, he explains that there was still all of well ... everything. But last year kicked off harder because Güero and Co rolled through with a life-size train and a tiger in a gilded cage. A fucking tiger.

“Pendejos only did it to kiss Miguel’s ass, que sean tan mamónes,” he growls, shooting a dead-eyed stare at Chapo across the lawn.

I laugh into the highball glass I’m sipping from. I don’t normally drink at events like this, and on the off chance I do, always a Corona with a lime ‘cause it reminds me of home. But thank you, no. I would not like to keep my tab open.

Except this time, the over-interested hostess practically forces a drink on me when we get there. No clue who she is either, except she must’ve been a high-roller herself or at least married to one, based on the obscene dress she’s wearing. Fuck if I know a thing about designer shit, but I can spot the difference between black-tie and fuck-you money. And I’m not in the habit of saying “no” to fuck-you money. Even if she is smiling and touching my shoulder too much.

My eyes wander, looking for Dina, brooding an invisible SOS into the night air, hoping she might swoop in and save me, but she’s nowhere in sight. Neither is Mín. I smack Ramón in the chest with the back of my hand. “Oye, dónde está tu hermana?” <'Hey, where is your sister?'>

He shakes his head.

The fuck did she go? The only reason I’m even at this glorified peacock-fest, and— oh wow, yeah, there are actual peacocks wandering around on the lawn by the lake. No tigers, but of course the night isn’t complete without some form of exploited wildlife. No, the only reason I’m here is because she asked me. Or rather, because of what came out when she asked me.

✺

Dina sat on Mín’s desk, legs dangled over the side, smoking a cigarette like always, and eyeing me slyly from across the room as I buttoned my shirt back up.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you?” I asked, readjusting my collar.

“What?”

“That it’s rude to stare.”

She threw her head back, laughing.

“Yeah, they must’ve had some lesson at whatever charm school you probably went to.”

Her mouth dropped open in mock outrage, “Charm school? No me digas esas shingaderas, hombre. I wasn’t as poor as you but we didn’t have that kind of money.” <Charm school? Don't give me that bullshit, man. I wasn’t as poor as you but we didn’t have that kind of money.>

I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, “Ah, tu lo sabes? Tienes razón. <Ah, you know what? You're right.> Because the working-class shit I’ve heard outta your mouth?” and shook my head. “They wouldn’t have let you in the building.”

She snapped her fingers. “Sí, David. Now he’s getting it.”

“Well, then that would explain it.”

“Explain what?”

“Why you don’t know it’s rude to stare at someone like that.”

Her voice shot up half an octave into the range of feigned innocence. “Like what?”

“Like they’re dessert.”

“Es solo porque eres tan dulce. <It's just because you're so sweet.> Maybe I just can’t get enough. Maybe I have no choice.”

I looked up at her, smiling wide, all love-struck-stupid ‘cause I couldn’t help myself. “‘Can’t get enough,’ like you didn’t just get a three course meal.”

She kicked her heels against the desk, then hopped off and strolled over. I made a face when she flicked her cigarette on the ground and stamped it out. “Your brother’s gonna hate that.”

“Ya lo sé, y no me importa ni una mierda.” <Oh, I know and I don't give a shit.>

“Oh, sí? Pues lo haría tampoco <Oh, yeah? Well, I wouldn't either> pero the second he sees it, he’ll think I did it.”

Voice dropping just above a whisper, she came closer, “If he does, he can take it up with me,” and slid her hands under my shirt. “It’s as much mine as it is his. Maybe more even.”

They felt cold through the thin, ribbed fabric of my undershirt, gliding around my waist, creeping around to brush my lower back with her fingertips. At first, I thought she was going for my pant pockets, until her thumb hooked around the handle of the gun in my waistband. It startled me in spite of myself.

She smirked, practically presenting it, barrel pointed up at the ceiling. “Sorry, were you gonna need this? Or can we remove the ‘fire’ hazard.”

Taking the gun and grumbling, “You know there’s a safety, right,” I leaned over and set it on the filing cabinet against the wall.

When I turned my attention back to her, she tightened her grip around my waist suddenly and backed me up against the door. She tried bracing with her other arm so I wouldn’t fall back too hard. It didn’t work. A second thud, my head smacking the door, followed the first of it slamming shut. Still, the though that counts, right? My pained smile complemented a look of amused pity on her face.

Laughing, she winced and mouthed, “Shit, sorry!”

“So, this is how you treat your employee—“ she cut me off with a few well-timed, remorseful kisses.

She pulled back breathlessly, grinning, almost electrified. “Yeah, why do you think I took your gun away?”

“Mmm, yeah, would’ve been a hazard.”

“That, yes. But mostly I didn’t want you to feel like you were on the clock,” she murmured against my mouth, “this isn’t meant to be company time,” then caught my lower lip gently with her teeth.

I sucked in a harsh breath, not a chance in hell of suppressing the feral rumble already escaping the back of my throat.

It might’ve been fine. I might’ve been able to tear myself away, because we’d already been there too long, nevermind it was never long enough.

Until her lashes brushed my cheek and I heard, “Ah, how I love to hear you, guapo.”

My heart bottomed out in my stomach. I got ahold of the collar of her jacket on both sides. Rocking her back, easy and gentle, I slid it slow off her shoulders. Goosebumps followed the path of my fingertips across her neck, collarbones, down the backs of her arms. The metal buttons clinked against the floor. A bell announcing another round.

And all of a sudden, I couldn’t get at her fast enough.

I swept my arm around her waist, hand sliding into the curve of the small of her back, the other palming the spot between her shoulder blades to flatten her against me. If I could just bring her close enough for us to melt together and into the wood grain of the door, the better to freebase the air she breathed, the smell of her hair, the blood rushing to her face.

How many nights had I spent awake, staring at the cracked plaster ceiling of my cell, dreaming of moments like this. I’d lost count a long time ago. And okay, maybe not exactly like this. The feeling. The wholeness to it. But not the details. Like I never could’ve predicted the boxy radio with the giant antenna that played from its sketchy spot on the window ledge, too close to the edge; day in and day out while we worked. Or the way the sun lit the dust in the air like the office was an attic in an old house that wasn’t ours. And Dina, all nimble fingers now, working my belt buckle. No way I could’ve dreamt her up. She was too complete for that.

Still, these were all things to wish for, not to have. What was left now? What if some things were better dreamt than done?

Suddenly self-aware, I wondered what it’d be like if just now, she could feel that inferno of memories at the tip of my tongue, burning through my lips to hers. If she could learn, inhaling every breath I took, things I’d share without saying a word. I wished she could. Maybe that’s why her kisses were so urgent now. Sharp, demanding, like she couldn’t get close enough. Like she’d occupy the exact same space if she could.

Don’t hide. Let me in. Anything. Tell me anything.

She was funny like that. Didn’t even know how far she’d gotten. So much further than most.

Lips still locked to mine like cross examining a witness, her hands grazed my jaw, my neck, practically mauling the collar of my shirt to get the buttons undone. I should’ve known not to bother earlier. This was the way it went with us. Part of the ritual, pretending we were done. Getting ready to leave, all raw nerves in the afterglow. Anxious awareness, never far behind not-near-enough satisfied. Because no matter how careful we were, there was a chance we’d be caught all the same. But we were never ready. Not really. So, we’d stall enough to justify starting up again. Living in each other as much as we could. Wringing out every last drop to bottle it up, a fail-safe supply for later. Another bump, another hit to tide us over. ‘Til next time. If we got one.

She’d only made it two buttons down when we both froze. A crashing sound, loud echoes of metallic clanging. Fuck. Someone on the main floor. We repelled to opposite sides of the room before we could think long enough to be disappointed.

I fixed my shirt, then grabbed Dina’s jacket from the floor and tossed it to her. “You said no one was supposed to be here till tonight?”

She caught it, draping it over one arm so she could get her cigarette holder out of one of the pockets. Trying her level best to look composed, she took one out and lit up. But I could see the tells; beads of sweat on her forehead; that too-quick rise and fall of her chest.

Eyes wide, she shrugged, at a loss. “They’re not. Pancho’s with Món at the racetrack. Apparently betting against some new horse Güero and Chapo brought up from Mazatlán. Mín’s taking Ruth to one of her appointments.”

I walked to the window and looked out onto the main floor. It was easy to make out a head of black hair bobbing just beyond the giant, industrial-sized forklift, partially blocking my view. My eyes followed it along the top of the forklift’s arm until Nestor came out from behind it, puttering around and practically strangled by a few long chains from one of the trucks. He swore, dropping them again. Poor guy. The links jittering against the cement floor filled the warehouse with what sounded like twisted, metallic laughter. Mocking him. Us.

“Who is it?” She asked it like she wasn’t looking out the same window.

Without a word, I turned and walked back toward the door. She followed, “Pinshe Nestor, este wey &lt;Nestor, this fuckin' guy>,” waving her hand dismissively at the window.

I couldn’t resist. “Mmm right? Fuck that guy. Yea, go yell at him, chew him out, tell him why you’re annoyed.”

She narrowed her eyes but in that way she did when she was stifling a smile. When she knew I was right.

“You know, it didn’t occur to me until this moment.” Sighing and cupping my chin gently, she turned my face from side-to-side to examine it. “But I think I just realized why you’re so quiet.”

My eyebrow shot up, not a clue where she was going with this.

“It’s this smart mouth of yours,” she mused, grazing my lip with her thumb, “gotten you into too much trouble.”

I brought her hand from my cheek to my lips and hummed into her palm, “Mm, mhmm,” before nibbling a few besitos across. “Funny coming from you, always trying to get me to talk. But only when you like what I have to say.”

“Ay chulito pues, I didn’t say I minded it,” she winked. “Just not when it’s used against me.”

“Mm yea, don’t play that way. I’m an equal opportunity offender.”

At that, she laughed, eyes closed, full-out, no doubt loud enough to be heard on the first floor. Remembering Nestor, I let her hand drop but held onto the tips of her fingers. I couldn’t be sure how long we stayed like that, twining and un-twining our fingers in silence; every once in a while pressing palms together; two kids in the sandbox, comparing to see whose were bigger. If we’d never stopped, I wouldn’t have cared a lick.

Something must’ve hit her though because her face fell. Serious. Troubled. Thoughts descended in real-time, only I couldn’t make out what they were.

Until she breathed out, “Oye.”

It wasn’t like her to retreat but when I looked up, she said nothing else. Just chewed ferociously on the inside of her cheek. I waited, eyes drifting back down to watch our fingers and knuckles, still rhythmically locking and unlocking.

Breaking the silence, she gave it another shot. “Miguel’s party is on Saturday.”

“Yeah.”

There it was again, another retreat. What the fuck was she gonna say that she was so nervous to say it?

“And?”

It came out soft like a secret. “Go with me?”

Huh. Whatever I thought she might say, it sure as shit wasn’t that. Not … asking me to the dance? Disbelief chipped away at my usual poker face and without thinking, I blurted, “What? Why?”

Zero-to-sixty in four seconds flat and now she was fuming.

“Why? What do you mean ‘why?’”

Senseless. I knew it then. Should’ve walked it back. Found a better way to ask. But still, it was the only thing that came out of my mouth and all too matter-of-fact.

“I mean like ... why.”

Her jaw cocked to one side. She looked like she wanted to slug me. Because despite the fact that I wasn’t family, had never even met Miguel, had no business being there, somehow it was the dumbest question in the world.

“There’s—” I fumbled for words, raking my hand up and down the back of my head. “I just— why would I be there? You don’t need security. He’s the main man. No doubt he’ll have his own.”

“Because.”

“Because,” I shot back flatly.

“Because.”

“Think your brother, my boss, is gonna need more than ‘because.’ Even from you.”

“You’d be surprised.” She cracked a smile.

That’s right. Stubborn. Impossible. And she knew it. Like a reflex or muscle memory, my face settled into that thousand yard stare, the one she and so many others felt the need to decode.

She conceded, “Because. Okay?” throwing her hands up and letting them fall. They smacked her hips on the way back down and the rest came out in practically one breath. “Because even though he’s a genius and he’s technically family, Miguel Ángel Félix Gallardo is the most insufferable man in all of Mexico. I can’t stand him and I can’t stand almost everyone else on that fucking guest list. Así qué quiero que estés allí porque ya todos los odio. Pero a ti te quiero. <So, maybe I want you there because I hate all of them. But I love you.>"

Wait, come again? She didn’t just— no, but she did.

Pero a ti te quiero.

“Oh.”

I turned around, fell against the door, pressing into it with my forehead, and didn’t say anything for a long time. Mind searching for an explanation: the timing, why now? What day was it? What date was it? What was different about now?

I’d woken up in the same bed in that cramped apartment just down the street from Parque Teniente, the first one I could find when I got to Tijuana months ago. Woken up the same damn person. As far as I knew, so had she. There was nothing especially extraordinary about today. If anything it was routine, sneaking into Mín’s office when we knew no one would be there, away from prying eyes: Alicia, Ruth, their mother, the gaggle of Arellano women who always seemed to be at the house. Away from Pancho, who’d made a habit of passing out, snoring until three in the afternoon, on the pull-out couch at my place.

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more it sank in how unremarkable the day was. Maybe something happened. Some earth-shattering event she hadn’t told me about yet, something that would explain the sentence that just left her lips and turned reality into something like the dimensions of a funhouse mirror.

Shit, how long had I been standing there with my head against the door? How long had she been waiting? No idea. Did it matter? Of course it did. This wasn’t something silence could solve. Or even put off. Not that there was anything to solve.

I turned back around to face her, half-wincing, anticipating her fury. A satisfied smirk had settled in the corners of her mouth. She wasn’t mad. Just leaned against the desk, puffing away, which was ... odd. I scanned her face for any indication, clenched jaw, flared nostrils, blazing brown eyes, some sign of impending apocalypse. But no, she looked serene. Smug even, tickled at how surprised I was. No, she wasn’t mad at all.

Oh.

And it hit me. I could see it so clearly now in the way she stood with her hip out and how she held her cigarette off to the side, wrist lax, nothing to worry about. Why she wasn’t mad. She knew there was nothing to worry about. This wasn’t a confession. No grade-school picking petals off flowers, ‘he loves me, he loves me not.’ She hadn’t said it in the hopes that in return, she’d hear the same. Because it was plain as day. Fucking obvious. Not a doubt in her mind.

It was funny too ‘cause that had been sealed away in a vault in some deep, dark corner of my mind, cordoned off by an electric fence, wrapped in several yards of barbed wire and caution tape. WARNING. POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS. I barely knew because I barely allowed myself to. That came easy as it always did. Or easier anyway than feeling and not knowing what to do, where to put it. So I barely knew. Maybe it was now that I only just realized it, in a fully-formed thought.

A ti te quiero también.

But it felt wrong, seemed to make the moment small somehow, if I were to say it out loud back to her. Forced for obligation, ceremony’s sake, and altogether pointless when she already knew.

So I just said, “Fine.”

Her eyes lit up, filled to the brim with, you really mean it?

“Yeah, fine, I’ll go.”

She beamed. My own personal sun.

“But you figure whatever fake reason to tell your brothers. I ain’t sayin’ shit.”

She squeezed my hand. Any tighter and it would’ve cut the circulation. Not quite the deliverance that launching at each other would’ve been, sweeping all the papers and supplies off of Mín’s desk, not giving a shit what broke as it hit the floor, buttons popping loose from my shirt and rolling on the ground as she tore it off, taking each other carnally hostage right there. But with Nestor still downstairs, it’d have to be enough.

✺

So here I am. And she’s missing in action.

A hand comes down on my shoulder. Ramón’s. “Mira nada más <Look what we have here>,” he chuckles pointing to Ms. Fuck-You-Money. “Esa chulita been eyeing you all night.”

I roll my eyes.

Món chokes out, laughing through a sip of champagne, “Ay qué duro, cabron. <Ey, tough fucker.> Good answer. Attention from a woman like that? That’ll get you killed, or worse.”

Lost, I shoot him a look of confusion.

“What’s the look for.”

“What’re you talking about?” I say shaking my head.

“Wait d— you don’t know who that is?”

I stare at him through half-lidded eyes.

He can barely contain his amusement and I could bust that Cheshire-cat smile wide open for it, the chistoso. See, ‘cause it’s something I’ll never understand but Ramón lives for shit like this. How many times I wished I felt the same or could at least access some similar well of couldn’t-give-a-fuck charisma that allowed the kid to cut loose, no matter where he went. Unless he was in one of his moods. Still, his glee is infectious if not foreign. So despite being miffed, I’m grateful he’s here.

“That’s— okay, that’s Miguel’s wife, Daniela.”

“Thought her name was like Marta? María? Something else?”

“Oh nooo, no, no, no.” Ramón jiggles his head back and forth. “That’s his first wife. This is his second.”

My eyebrows shoot up.

“Yeah, right?” Món shrugs. “Tío moves fast apparently. Upgraded to a new model already. Personally, I don’t get it. Should’ve stuck with the classic. And María,” he looks at me and whistles, “qué clásico.”

We both watch Miguel work a group of sleazy-looking politicians. I don’t need to be up close to imagine how badly they reek of too-expensive, tacky cologne, or how clammy their hands are, sweating because they’ve been mainlining too much sauce and blow. My eyes drift to Daniela who’s pointing around theatrically to the outdoor decor. Like her husband, she’s smooth-talking another group of guests.

That’s when it clicks. As she dances from a group of Senators, to a group of financial hacks, to a group of mid-level distributors, I can’t help but think how busy bees flit. Flower to flower, pollinating each one. Stroking the right egos, smiling, leaving a hand on a shoulder just long enough to make them think they might have a shot with the big man’s wife. From everything I’ve heard about Miguel, he might let them, for the right price. That fact fills me with equal measures of sadness and relief. Sad for her. Relief to know it’s a hustle, an award-winning performance. Though why she’s been wasting time on me, a friend of the Arellano family at best, low-level Arellano goon at worst, is anyone’s guess.

“Seems she’s like that with everyone.”

“Oh no, carnal. With you? That shit’s real. She knows you’re with us.” Ramón reaches for my face like he’s about to pinch my cheek. “Not some rich politician’s secret love child.”

“Ey, no mames, cabrón.” I swat it away with a smirk, so he knows we’re simpatico. “You and Pancho always fixin’ to get me in more trouble than I’m ever looking for.”

I think of Dina just then and how it’s possible for lies to lag like that sometimes. Feeling like truth ‘til the words are well outta your mouth.

As if anxiety’s summoned her to me, out of the corner of my eye, I catch Dina walking toward us. On her way over, she grabs a drink from a guy standing by the bar holding two champagne glasses, someone she mistakes for a waiter. Based on the beet red look on his face, he turns to be a guest. He flips out and at first, Dina looks ready to apologize and move on. No big deal.

It’s not until he starts pointing his finger in her face, “Qué verga, vieja? No soy un pinshe mesero <What the fuck, lady? I'm not a fuckin' waiter>,” that I glance at the ground to hide a smile. I know what’s coming but this poor bastard doesn’t. It’s always satisfying to watch Dina work, handling men who make mistakes like that. No doubt it’d be a scathing indictment but never done in the same way. Refreshing, that kind of variety. I always respected it.

She leans back, eyeing the guy up and down, then walks over, purposely slow, all the time in the world, to a real waiter holding a tray. Grabbing a new glass, she walks back and shoves it into the guy’s hand, taking extra care to make sure it spills on his jacket. Beads of sweat and outrage pour from him, as he looks down at his damp lapel in disgust.

She waves her index finger back and forth between them, “Listo, pues. Ya estamos? <Well, then. We good?>” and points at Ramón next to me. “Or shall I have my brother, Ramón—“ she waves, “Hi Món! Yeah, that one. The tall one over there. Shall I ask him to step in, help mediate the matter?”

Everyone’s eyes shoot straight to Món who, on cue, flashes a smile so diabolical, the devil himself would’ve tipped his hat in appreciation. Still fuming, the guy brushes the front of his jacket and straightens his collar but says nothing.

“Aye,” Dina punctuates with a dip of her head. “Eso es lo que pensaba. <Yeah, that's what I thought.>"

And that seems like the end of it until she a twenty out of her wallet in that impossibly tiny purse. “Ey, next party you go to, if you want to avoid being confused with the catering staff, maybe don’t wear a dinner jacket. It’s a nice house, sure. Not the fucking Met.”

The guy is mute, shocked as she slips the bill in his breast pocket and glides away. Even a few feet away, I can already see her rolling her eyes and giggling as she makes her way to us.

Ramón says, cackling, “I thought maybe you were going to ask for a bottle there, crack him over the head with it,” as she gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“No, no. We couldn’t embarrass our tío querido could we. Besides,” she gives a cavalier wave toward the guy, “Drastic measures like those are reserved for Chapo. Or Cochi.”

I look at the two of them standing with Güero on the other side of the DJ platform. They look like they’re enjoying themselves about as much as I am.

I make eye contact with Güero briefly before I feel another hand on my shoulder. Dina’s?

“What no hug for me?”

I catch her awkwardly with one arm, stiffening as she pulls me in too close and for too long.

“Woo,” Món hoots. ”Creo que Enedina ha tomado un poquito demasiado. <I think Enedina's had one too many.>"

She bats him in the arm. “Ay que no, if you’d had the conversation I just had with Mín, you’d be chugging this,” she knocks back the last few sips of champagne, then holds up the glass, “like water too.”

“Why? What happened?”

”Oh nothing, he just–“ she lets out a hefty sigh. “Just rolled over for Miguel like he always does.”

Before Món can ask anything else, Dina’s face lights up at someone behind him.

All drunk swagger, Pancho waltzes over, a drink in each hand, yelling, “Estos cabrooooones. I been looking all over for you.”

He sidles next to Ramón, who reaches for the other drink in his hand. He pulls back. “Qué shingadas? <What the fuck?> I didn’t bring this for you.”

Món pulls a face like Pancho just kicked over a sandcastle he spent hours building.

I hold my hands up in defeat, chuckling, “Ey I didn’t ask him to bring me anything. Knowing this pruno-king, I bet they’re both his.”

“Y esto? Esto es porque es mi compa. Él me conoce <And this? This is why he's my homie. He gets me>,” Pancho slurs, with a tipsy smile, eyes half shut.

“Qué pedo <What the hell>, is everyone drunk here besides me?” Món catches me smiling and rolls his eyes. “Tú no, rarito &lt;Not you, weirdo>. You don’t count.”

Glancing at the crowd around us, Pancho asks “Where’s Mín?” and stumbles back, nearly planting his ass on the lawn.

He grabs Món for support, who already looks startled as Dina shoves her empty glass at him. “Who cares? Yo quiero bailar,” she declares, grabbing my hand.

She yanks me with such force, I wonder if I look like one of those Loony Toons characters, a regular Beaky Buzzard swept offscreen by Bugs Bunny with a giant cane.

Behind us Pancho and Ramón are busting up laughing. “Panchito, I think she might be drunker than you are.”

Pancho holds up one of his drinks in salute. “Aaaaaayyy órale, mi brujita!”

My hand firmly in hers, Dina shimmies around the other couples on the dancefloor. When she finds a spot she deems satisfactory, she turns and snaps me towards her, gliding her hand up my right arm to my shoulder, and moving my left around her waist. I’m lost in static. My heart’s beating fast. Too fast, like a hummingbird caught all up in my chest and each beat of its wings jolts my rib cage, while it tries to jailbreak outta there.

And it’s not the proximity that’s got my blood up, really. It’s her. It’s rare to see Dina overflowing with this kind of reckless joy. So rare in fact, there’s a gravity to it, a pull magnified by irregularity, that makes it harder to resist. In tandem with the music, I’m goner, already falling into it. But what does any of it matter, when I know how she feels now. Just the same as me.

✺

We finish with a dip, and the blurry wall of lights and onlookers, among them the suspicious face of Mín, the curious face of Ramón, and the drunk glassy eyes of Pancho, become crystal clear again, as I bring Dina back up. The song changes and I let go, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. Making my way off the dancefloor, she follows close, reassuring in a low voice, “It’ll be fine, amor. They know I’m tipsy.”

“Yeah. And they know I’m not.”

Although— I look over at the bar. Fuck it, I could fix that now. Before we can reach Mín, Món, and Pancho, standing by the DJ booth, I tear through the crowd, right to the bar. Fuck any rules. This is Def Con One and that lapse in judgment could only be reasonably explained to the Arellano boys by both of us being shitfaced. I flag down a bartender.

“Shot of tequila.”

“What kind?”

I eye him coolly. “Whatever. Dealer’s choice.”

Willing myself not to be too twitchy, conspicuous, I glance around to make sure Benjamín hasn’t sicced Món on me. That look of disapproval on his face is going to be seared to the backs of my eyelids for days. Maybe weeks. Not a chance in hell that he’d overlook that display. As far as Ramón, who looked more intrigued than anything, jury’s still out. Might be he’d follow Mín’s lead. That is, unless Dina were to intervene, which– that’d be something she’d have to do. I’d never ask her. Not an option. That leaves Pancho who’s unlikely to give a shit. Or if he did, he’s too drunk now to make a show of it. But no, even sober, we’ve been homies through and through. He’d have my back. Maybe the only one.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Christ, all of it, already a fucking mess. It hasn’t spilled out entirely from my head onto the world, but only a matter of time.

A whistle from someone a barstool away interrupts the game of 3D chess I’m playing with myself, trying to compute then varying combinations of factors and events that could end me. I’m so in it, it takes me a beat to even realize they’re whistling at me.

“Ey, dónde aprendiste a bailar como eso? <Hey, where did you learn how to dance like that?>” someone asks quietly, in familiar but strangely-accented Spanish.

I turn to shoot a fuck-off stare to whoever, but when I’m met with the sight of an odd-looking, half-bald, ginger dude in jeans, a denim jacket, and a pair of Jordans that probably cost more than my first car, I’m taken aback by the expression on his face. Strange-like, fondly admiring, but more like he’s observing a zoo animal, exotic as those peacocks waddling across the lawn, than a person.

“Viene de familia.” <Runs in the family.>

All the odd guy says is, “Ah,” and then proceeds to fiddle with the toothpick in his mouth and survey the crowd.

Based on how he’s dressed, it’s clear this dude isn’t a regular guest. If I had to put my money on anything? Sicario. No question. Because even though he doesn’t have the trademark hyper-vigilance, coiled up tight, a piston ready to pop, the strange little homie does have a cracked look I recognize. Like he doesn’t need to be on-guard because he’s past the point of feeling much beyond general amusement.

I’d come up with a couple guys like this back home. Met even more of them in prison. You could tell who they were because they didn’t pretend to be concrete copies of themselves. Already born steel people, they never needed to bother with the mandatory, self-imposed identity mutilation necessary to survive in the Petri dish of the California Department of Corrections. But the most interesting thing about them? Scary as they could be, they’re also some of the more honest criminals I’ve dealt with. At least, those who’re murder-for-hire, not murder-for-fun.

Spotting the shiny, engraved handle of a pistol in his waistband, I whistle, “Nice, .357?”

He doesn’t take it out to show it off, just flashes a slinky, joker smile. “You got a good eye.”

“Likewise. Dope piece.”

Yeah, definitely more than your average muscle. The real pros don’t tend much to show and tell. But who the guy works for, I can’t figure exactly. Given that I had to give up my own weapon before we came through, I’m guessing he’s Miguel’s muscle. Looking over at a doorway filled with the broad shoulders and Fabio-like hair of Miguel’s top security guy, Tony, I try picturing these two working together and have to stifle a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Eh, it’s too hard— it’s nothin’.”

The strange homie responds with an amused snort but doesn’t press further. We go back to our mutual but silent surveillance. I can’t see the Arellanos anywhere, but I do spot the Sinaloa crew making their way to the exit by the bar. The weird little guy waves at them like they’re the oldest of friends. I nearly give myself whiplash, looking back and forth from Strange Homie to Güero and Cochi’s pained smiles and an outright look of disgust from Chapo.

“Those are the guys who brought the tiger last year,” Strange Homie helpfully explains, still waving.

“Man, everyone keeps telling me about that tiger. Guess I missed out.”

“You weren’t here last year?”

Still looking around for Ramón, I shake my head, stating absentmindedly, “Haven’t been to any kinda shit like this in my life.”

If Benjamín hadn’t already put him up to cutting me into little pieces, I would’ve at least expected Món to be hot on the heels of the Sinaloa crew, if only to berate, and harass, and swear at them as they’re leaving. And yet, he’s nowhere. Shoot, maybe Mín decided not to even bother chasing me down, and they just bounced. Left me there. Dina would be pissed but all things considered, I’d be getting off lightly. Compared to other possibilities. Could I be so lucky?

I turn my attention back to Strange Homie.

A jackal-like grin brightens his whole face. “Yeah, you did miss out. I got to feed it.”

“Big animal fan, huh?”

Strange Homie considers the question seriously as though it requires an answer, deep or existential in some way. But what he comes back with is relatively simple. “I guess, apex predators, yeah.”

“Easiest to relate to?” I joke.

The jackal smile back again as he exclaims, “Exacto!” Only this time, it bears sincerity that makes it more endearing than unsettling.

I raise my shot glass, saluting, “Makes sense to me.” An implied given what I know about you, unsaid in the air as I knock the shot back. Strange Homie likely knows, has probably been profiling my own profiling this whole time.

“So, you are not from around here?” Strange Homie ventures, as I catch the bartender’s attention to order another shot.

“From Guadalajara?”

Strange Homie shrugs and nods.

“Nah. You?”

He says with a knowing smirk, “Do I sound like I’m from Guadalajara?”

I shake my head, chuckling to myself. The bartender brings another shot and I put it away, perfunctory, then bite into the lime. It’s so sour, I feel shooting pangs in the sides of my mouth and tongue. The sensation of pain, concrete and tangible enough to focus on, brings me back to me.

I wipe my mouth and clear my throat. “You don’t sound like you’re from Guadalajara, but I got a few camaradas back home who sound kinda like you. Colombianos.”

“Good eye. Good ear,” Strange Homie notes, a hint of approval in his voice.

“The melting pot of America.”

“Ah, entonces eres un gringo?” <Oh, you're a gringo then?>

“Te has visto, hombre? De donde vengo, eres más gringo que yo.” <Have you seen yourself, man? Where I'm from, you're more gringo than me.>

I half-expect Strange Homie to be offended but he just snickers and nods in agreement. “Pues, tal vez tengas razón. Supongo que quiero decir que eres un gabacho.” <Well, maybe you're right. I guess I mean to say, you're a foreigner.">

“Close enough.”

“Well gabacho, un placer. Yo soy Navegante.” He reaches out to shake hands.

I extend mine tentatively, “David Barrón.”

As we stand there, forearms bobbing up and down slowly, a look of calculation and sorrow fills Strange Homie’s eyes. Something about it, and the way he says, “You seem like a cool guy. I wish we hadn’t talked so much.” I can’t quite put my finger on why it makes my stomach drop.

Fuck. Dina. Where are they. The Arellanos. Makes no sense. Been nowhere this whole time. Fuck. The empty spot where my gun usually sat in my waistband screams at me like a phantom limb. I try freeing my hand from Navegante’s, who holds on like a vice and laments, “I am glad you got those shots of tequila in though. Since we both know how bad this will hurt.”

My teeth grind into my lower lip so hard, I taste blood. And yet, it still does fucking nothing to ease the sting of surprise as the knife sinks into my stomach.

✺

Everything after that happens in slow motion. He must’ve carried me out at some point and anyone who saw me doing shots at the bar just assumed I was wasted. I don’t know how much blood I’ve lost. Enough that it feels like I’m moving through molasses when they chuck me in the backseat of that town car. Or is it a limo? The seats are facing each other like in a limo. Or maybe I’m molasses because of the booze. If not the booze exclusively, it definitely isn’t helping, blood thinning as it is. Fucking stupid. So stupid. In my life, had I ever been so stupid?

Although, I have to give it to Strange Homie— what was his name again? Navegante? — it’s been ages since someone got the jump on me like that. Since I was a kid probably. He’d been decent enough about it too, although I could’ve done without the stick in the gut. A few inches higher, he might’ve fractured a rib, but I might have more my full faculties. But no, this guy knew what he was doing. It’d landed exactly where he’d wanted it to.

Fingers wrestle with the tie at my neck, ripping it off, and it’s not until I bring it down to put pressure on the wound in my stomach that I realize those fingers are mine. The other courtesy Navegante had done? Strange Homie left the knife in. Although, whether that’s so I wouldn’t bleed out as fast or if it’s so he could further torture me by twisting it, is unclear. So much of it is unclear. I try going back, retracing every step leading up to the point I’d been stabbed but my brain’s stuck in quicksand. If I live to see tomorrow, I’ll have to take some kind of blood oath to never touch another drop of alcohol again. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Dina. Where is she. The Arellanos. They’d disappeared. Where the fuck was Dina. The panic, the cortisol, like a defibrillator at my chest, shocking me more awake, as I pack the fabric of my tie around the knife to soak up the blood. Forgetting myself, I reach behind for my gun and grumble at the empty spot where it normally is. Should be. Stupid. So. fucking. stupid.

I hear voices outside the car. No gun, no way out, no idea where anyone else is, where I am now, no choice but to accept it. So I just lean back against the seat, keeping pressure on my stomach and wait patiently for what’s to come.

When the door finally opens, I expect to be met with Strange Homie, Navegante’s jackal grin but instead it’s a taller man, a lot more normal looking, with dark eyes and a full head of hair. No one I recognize though and he’s someone I’d remember, considering he’s one of the most sharply dressed motherfuckers I’ve seen outside a movie. He slides in to sit across from me and grabs a file that had been laying on the seat next to him.

He reads from it calmly, soothingly business-as-usual. “I do apologize for the harsh introduction, Señor Barrón Corona. Navegante said you were nothing but gentlemanly prior to his stabbing you.”

I shift uncomfortably in my seat and on reflex, the muscles in my stomach clench around the blade. Like I’ve stepped onto the worst elevator ride, my throat feels like it’s in my head. Just blistering, white-hot agony. A jagged inhale drags down the back of my throat and I try not to pass out. “S’funny,” I cough out, “was just thinking the same thing.”

“Please know, this isn’t personal. Or rather, not for me. I suspect it’s very personal for your employer.” He looked up from the file, smirking. “Or I suppose, that’s the idea.”

My employer? The fuck was Benjamín going to be upset about? Me with a knife in my gut in the backseat of whatever big-shot, cartel guy’s car?

“Banking on the wrong strategy there,” I hiss through gritted teeth.

The man looks up from the file again, waiting for me to explain further.

“No love lost between my employer and me.”

“Hmm. Is that so?”

He says this with such assurance, it becomes apparent that this whole scheme, whatever it is, whatever game this guy’s playing, this shit is well above my pay grade. No point trying to outmaneuver when my head’s still in quicksand and I don’t even have the fucking rulebook.

“But you answer to the whole family, no?”

I roll my eyes and slump my shoulders, too tired to summon a real response.

“David Barrón Corona. From Logan Heights, San Diego, California. Says here you were born in Tijuana, but your parents are naturalized citizens. Which would give you—” he licks his forefinger and flips a page. “Ah yes, dual Mexican-American citizenship. Oh, your father was in the navy? Why does it seem the best sicarios come from military families. Someone should do a study.”

“Eh, eres un soldado either way.” <Eh, you're a soldier either way.>

The man smirks and continues reading. “Two brothers, one older Mateo Barrón Corona, deceased. And one younger, Alexander Barrón Corona, incarcerated, life no parole. And your mother— hmm, we don’t have much on her.”

I clench my teeth so hard, it feels like I have a charlie horse in my jaw. Willing my stomach muscles to relax, I ease off the middle console with my elbow to lean against the window and breathe out a, “Wow.”

The man takes out a cigarette and pops it between his lips, mumbling, “Qué?” as he lights up.

“Just— I dunno. Seems a lotta paperwork for somebody who’s nobody. Whose asset are you, DoD, CIA?”

The man shakes out his match and cracks a window on his side to toss it out. “Ah, see, but that’s the thing, David— may I call you David?”

I nod listlessly.

“David, do I seem to you like someone who’d waste so much time, go to all this trouble if you were a complete nobody?”

“Can’t say. We just met.” We’re well past politeness. I’m already bleeding all over this guy’s Oxford leather seats.

But instead of insulting him, he cuts up, laughing deep and full. “Funny, discerning—tonight’s little encounter notwithstanding. And from what I hear, an excellent shot, a competent sicario.”

I snort loud enough that he pauses to say, “What is that? False modesty? Don’t bore me before we’ve gotten started.”

“No. I am as good as you’ve heard probably. But that’s not the point.”

Dragging slowly from his cigarette, he brushes a bit of ash that’s fallen on his pant leg, then looks up, fixes his eyes on me, and says, “Enlighten me, then.” He’s the cat. I’m the ball of yarn. It doesn’t even matter.

“Any sicario worth a shit knows it doesn’t matter how good you get.“

“Why’s that?”

A gotcha-type smile spreads across my face for the first time in what feels like ages. “’Cause however good I may be, I’ll always be expendable. Guys like me are always short to the gate.”

And just when I think I’ve got him, for some reason, that warms up those cold brown eyes of his, as though I’ve proven his point more than my own. He bobs his head toward the window where Navegante stood guarding the car. “Well, that may be true of most in your line of work. But I asked my man out there, and he seems to think you’re good people. I’m putting together the picture of you, beginning to understand the appeal, what she sees in you.”

“Why. You hiring?”

“Oh no, no,” he chuckles lightly, “you’re of no use to me that way. No, the fact of the matter is,” then clicks his tongue against the inside of his cheek, “you’re right. Some are more expendable than others. But at the finish line, when death comes to collect, really, we’re all expendable.”

If this guy doesn’t reach some point, some punchline soon, I swear I’m gonna yank this knife out myself, happily bleed out all over the place just to reach some definitive conclusion.

”But here and now? To one with a little power and something I need? You David, are much less expendable than you think.”

The hell is he even talki— oh, fuck.

What she sees in you.

It echoes in my ears until it detonates, like pulling the pin on a grenade in my head, shrapnel ricocheting on the inner walls of my skull, just as I’m trying to piece it together.

My boss. Personal. Dina. You answer to the whole family, no? The guy’s practically been explaining it from the beginning. I’ve just been too dead in the head to make sense of it.

“Ah yes, there it is. And now that you’re caught up with the rest of the class, allow me to formally introduce myself.” The man places his hand on his chest, bowing his head. “I’m Pacho Herrera.”

Yup. This is above my pay grade. Way, way, way the fuck above my pay grade.

#narcos mexico #narcos mexico fanfic #enedina arellano felix x david barron #dinarron #enedina arellano felix #david barron #timeline divergence #also this is separate from my dinarron russian novel #but this place has everything #angst so mild a white man could handle it #smooching #stabbing #with KNIVES #forbidden love/secret relationship #seeeeeeeeeecrets #Dina - a woman who will actually pay to step on you #Barron - a man being accidentally hot at every turn for no good reason #Pacho - a sly and suave and snappily dressed mf with a plan #the most bizarre buddy-cop duo we didn't know we needed #like shit you not it makes no actual sense but somehow works?? #there's also dancing #during which you should bust out Spotify or Youtube or wherever tf #and put on a little ditty called 'Guajira del Mar' #to set the mood #to get the feel #to establish the Vibe #also to that one anon who likes dinarron stuff - here's a new thingy to feast on #until i get my shit together with the asslong novel i've been working on for them sksksjflkdajlsdkj

[narcos-narcosmx]

I had to push this back. The loose eta is now mid to late March.

#narcos mexico #David Barron

[skullislandproductions]

The “wet cement” image, from my previous post, here, painted by Craig Kelly, as it appears in the credits for “Little Go Beep,” with the list of animators, as well as an acknowledgment to the great Chuck Jones.

#Spike Brandt #Tony Cervone #Jon McClenahan #Frank Molieri #Dave Pryor #David Smith #Jeff Siergey #Harry Sabin #Michael Nickelson #Arland Barron #Neal Sternecky #Derek Thompson #John Griffin #StarToons #animators #Little Go Beep #Wile E Coyote #title card #scrapbook #old photos

[st-louis]

arber bouge bien

#this goofball lmao #arber xhekaj #david savard #mike matheson #justin barron #habs