#Breaking Bad imagine

[an-angel2u]

can you do a Jesse pinkman c fem! Reader with fluffy and smut?

long day || j. pinkman

warnings: cockwarming, dry humping, fem!reader, kinda sub!jesse?? i was high and running on a few hours of sleep when i wrote most of this, sorry if it’s bad!

you were exhausted, unbelievably exhausted. you had a hate-love relationship working as a magazine editor. it was easy yet draining, your (male) coworkers annoyed you to death. they were all incredibly insufferable.

alas, you made it back home in one piece. back to jesse.

it was freezing cold by the time you got home, your legs were exposed under your pencil skirt. you had forgotten your blazer back your own place and didn’t bother going back to get it, thinking you’d be fine.

you stumbled into the house, you could barely wait to get those restricting heels off your feet. “hi jess.” you huffed, slamming the door behind you. you fell to the floor and popped your shoes off.

“hey baby.” he sat up from his slouching position, fixing his hair looking at you. “long day?” he added. “you wouldn’t believe.“

you unzipped your skirt and pulled it off, not caring that you’d be in your blouse and pantyhose. “i hate dressing up like this…” you spoke sluggishly, sliding your feet across the hardwood floor and walked over to jesse and straddled his lap.

“you look beautiful either way.” he played at your thighs, pinching the pantyhose and pulling them up, letting them tap back on your skin.

“you smell good.” your face was in his neck as you began to grin against his skin. “yeah? i tried some sample cologne from those magazines you brought home.” he smiled, rubbing your backside.

“smells really good, jess.” you hummed, feeling slightly aroused by his scent. you felt his low groans vibrate through his throat. “jesse… can we try something…?”

“what’s that?” he ran his fingers all the way down to your ass, only to keep his hands there and rub the pads of his thumbs. “where i sit on your dick… and you don’t move… just sit there…”

“are you tryna to torture me, baby…?” he chuckled. “it’s supposed to feel good, trust me.” you smiled, sitting up from the perfect space where your head could fit.

jesse’s head raised up from the cushion for his lips to kiss yours. you dissolved into his touch, your eyes closed slowly with your hands wandering under his shirt.

you pulled back and started to rocked your hips along his clothed length. you loved how sensitive jesse was, how helpless he could become in an instant. you watched as jesse sunk his teeth into his bottom lip.

it felt nice on your end, the fabric rubbing against your clit. the tingling sensation became acute causing you to moan with lust. your face found home in his neck once again as you continued grind against him.

“can we start this… torture— whatever you call it?” he laughed through his desperate tone. you nodded before pooling your panties and pantyhose at the bottom of your feet, stepping out of them. you watched jesse struggle to pull his basketball shorts off, successfully getting them down to his ankles.

“so you just— go commando in your basketball shorts huh…?” you giggled crawling back on jesse, sneaking your hands to his shaft, stroking him slowly.

“focus on me… okay?” your glossy eyes met with his, he was in a short moment of bliss before coming back to reality to answer. he nodded with quick “ok’s” falling from his mouth.

you placed your middle and ring finger in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digits. you pulled your fingers from your lips and spread your saliva all around jesse’s cock, mixing your saliva and his pre-cum together.

you lined your entrance up with his tip, lowering yourself onto him. you watched as his mouth went agape from the pleasure he received from your wet, warm walls.

“shit— and you’re not supposed to move..?” he spoke, his hands sliding up and down your waist. you supposed it was a self soothing technique. “nah-uh. just relax, jesse. keep watching that movie…”

you laid your head down on his shoulder, your hand snaked around to play with his hair. the feeling that was slight pain had melted into a peaceful pleasure.

jesse was holding up pretty well from what you could tell. he was very silent, every now and then when your walls tensed, he would whimper. other than that he was quiet.

your lids became heavier by the minute. your mind wandered farther and farther away from the fact that you were filled up by jesse’s length. the last thing you remember was the soft scent of tester cologne jesse had displayed on his neck and collarbones

[purplelupins]

Salvador

|Better Call Saul|

Part I Part II

Word count: 17k

Lalo Salamanca x Fem!reader

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

Warnings: (this story has smut but not in part 1), slow burn, age gap, mentions of past domestic violence/toxic relationship, manipulation, intimidation, pet names (niña, niñita, princesita, Cariño, Ratoncito) Spanish (have a translator ready),Lalo kinda comes with his own warnings,

Notes: this is dedicated to my dear friend @mandowifey who was a massive part of the creation of this…couldn’t have done it without you���

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Even with a world on fire, we often dare to place our faith in the hands of someone who we hope we are not naive to trust. It is perplexing just what desire and blind devotion will drive a person to do. Even in our wildest dreams we cannot imagine what our actions will bring us, or who.

It is a daring game of chicken, so to speak. Seeing who will break first- you or life. Who will bend. Who will be kinder. Who will show love.

Love in and of itself is a treacherous thing. It’s beauty when it is alive and blazing, and the sorrow it brings when it whithers and putrefies.

And you knew it all.

All too well.

There was something comforting in standing under the baking sun of the southern state of New Mexico. With just a suitcase that held a toothbrush, bandages, $3026.50 and a change of clothes, you felt like a little waif from a book published centuries ago. Malnourished, exhausted, nerves shot half way to hell, and bruises still healing. You hoped there was a childish charm to how you looked, but you knew that hope was silly; you resembled more of a drug addict than a stubborn child that wouldn’t come home for supper.

“-miss?”

The first half of whatever had just been asked of you was lost on you; after you had nearly frozen to the spot after exiting the airport, numerous strangers had stopped to ask if you were alright. You forced your eyes to refocus, and found that you were being spoken to by an older woman who looked half irritated and half perturbed. Despondency had that effect on people.

“…I’m- I’m sorry…what?” You managed. Perhaps the Albuquerque sun had begun to bake your brain.

The woman sighed. She was decidedly more irritated. “Christ, I just asked if you were taking this cab!” She said, nodding to the yellow vehicle that was just several feet from you.

You stared at her, then offered her a small smile and shook your head. “It’s all yours.”

There was an uncomfortable lightness to your voice as you fought to stay connected to your body and not float away to Mars. Even you knew it. You didn’t sound like you. Hell you didn’t even look like you.

The woman said something about you taking long enough to answer something simple, but if you were honest you were proud of yourself for even being able to answer her. Just 10 hours ago you had been unable to even form a sentence as your body was plagued with panic; frantically packing what you needed in the span of 5 and a half minutes while your boyfriend - now ex- had been on the phone in the other room. You could still hear the sound of him yelling your name as you jumped in your car and peeled down the street before he could hurt you anymore.

Your heart still hurt from how hard it had been beating.

The taxi pulled away and you watched it go. A warm breeze slipped up your legs, and once it brushed your finger tips, you felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped from a hundred feet above you with you as it’s sole target.

Your eyes stung.

Your fists clenched.

But you had no more tears. Not for him anyway.

You might morn the death of who you used to be…the bright young girl who had a sparkle in her eyes and had yet to see the devil. Your heart broke when you thought of her.

But there was no blood…no body…nothing left to even hint that she was there to begin with. And there was nothing you could do about it.

•Three months later•

“Mrs. Creaner, I know the water tastes funny but I told you- you can’t keep asking your granddaughter to smuggle in alcohol now hand it over.”

“This is supposed to be a free country…” she grumbled as she rooted around over her thigh in her wheel chair, and produced the flask.

You suppressed a smirk at her antics, and held out your hand.

“Ma’am your granddaughter is 7 years old.” You sighed, handing her a styrofoam cup as she begrudgingly handed you the little metal flask.

“Smarter than a lot of you in here too.” She folded her arms and slumped in her wheelchair, “If you’re going to take that from me at least do your job and take me to bingo.”

You nodded and took the handles of the chair and began to push.

The job opening at Casa Tranquila had been a godsend to you all those months ago. Living out of a cheap motel was not ideal, and working in a comfortable retirement care facility on the outskirts of Albuquerque was just what your nerves needed. It certainly came with its difficulties, namely mediating your emotions and avoiding getting your ass pinched, but it paid your bills and gave you a great sense of purpose. In some way it made you feel as if you actually had a family that cared about whether you woke up in the morning.

It was no dream job, but it was what you needed. It kept you occupied and kept the heavy sense of loneliness at bay.

“- we do have to move you. Hector come on now, it’s just like everyday.” Came the voice of one of the senior nurses, Ellie.

You glanced over your shoulder and watched as she wheeled a very displeased elder man in the same direction as you were walking Mrs. Creaner. With careful steps so as to not trip, you turned and cast the man a greeting glance.

“Good afternoon Hector.” You said simply but cheerfully, then nodded to your co-worker in acknowledgement.

The man’s permenant frown twitched.

Hector Salamanca was a fairly new addition to the home, having been emitted just two months after you had started. And if you were honest, he was disliked; staff and patients found him difficult to deal with- which you found unfair. It wasn’t his fault that he could only communicate via the tapping of a single finger, blinking and limited facial expressions. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t coherent too, you knew very well that whoever Hector was before his stroke, he was still very much present behind those greying brown eyes. Certainly he was a grumpy old man, but if you had been in his position you were certain you wouldn’t exactly be a peach.

If anyone took a moment to watch most of the residences, they’d see just how alive most of them were despite their aging bodies; Hector was no different. He had fellow patients who he disliked; enjoyed knocking various objects over to make nurses have to bend over; he had his specific things he liked and didn’t like.

He was still every bit a red blooded man.

And while you weren’t one to play favourites, he was probably the closest thing to it.

You liked that he didn’t hide himself away. He was brash and blunt in his ways- non-verbal or not. Then there was a loneliness in his life that reflected your own; kindred spirits in a way. It pained you to see it at an old age like his. He had very few visitors, aside from when he had initially been dropped off by two men who must have been identical twins. You knew he couldn’t be all bad, and knew that a great deal of his anger must have come from his lack of contact to what family he had, and his inability to communicate. He was only human.

Just as you had expected, Hector made no move to acknowledge that he had heard your greeting. As per residence policy, each client was called by their first name, but since the first day you met that man, you had noted that he seemed more displeased by the informality. He looked furious when he had been wheeled around that first day and introduced as Hector; corners of his mouth pulled tight and down to his chin, eyes wild, nose twitching. Irate.

Your suspicions were only reinforced when you “accidentally” called him Señor Salamanca; he had actually looked you in the eye. A rare occurrence.

With that level of pride, you pondered that he must have been respected or feared before being placed under your care…or simply had a massive ego. And if he wasn’t around for that much longer and was barely existing, you saw little issue with making him feel like his old self by addressing him more formally.

Hector didn’t like a lot of people. Didn’t tolerate them. But he liked you.

Plus you gave him the best jello flavours.

Once the senior nurse placed him in the spot she deemed appropriate, you watched her walk away before dipping your head down to his level, like you always did.

“Buenos días, Sr. Salamanca.” You said, and smiled when you saw his head twitch ever so slightly in your direction. And that smile only grew when you saw him tap his finger. You hoped it was his way of returning the greeting, either that or he wanted to tell you to shove said greeting where the sun don’t shine.

You hoped he was saying hello. You hadn’t accomplished a great deal in your short life, and you liked to think that making the grouch at work a little happy could be added to your list.

Your days looked very much the same. A nightmare would wake you up at 5am almost every morning, as much as you hated to admit it. You hated how small you felt. Visions of being back with him, under his thumb and living to please him with no favour returned…no love to feel. His voice in your head…his manipulations. You often awoke with your stomach in knots.

You could never get back to sleep after.

By the time the alarm you set sounded at 6am, you would be ready to leave your small apartment. Then it was a half hour drive to work. At Casa Tranquila, you would check in, bring your assigned patients their morning medication and start their routine. The same faces came and went, it was almost a blur some days. But you loved the blur. You needed it. Your mind had only started to heal once your days became blurs that bled into each other, and you were uncertain of what might happen if you changed that.

You pulled your keys from the ignition, and took a long breath deep into your chest. You felt an ache in your chest with how full your lungs were, and only released when you began to feel lightheaded.

Another day.

Having finished with the lunch duties, you took a moment to stretch your back in the nurse’s station before squaring your shoulders like you were tougher than you were. You began your rounds, checking on each elder during visiting hours, and went to enter the main seating area when you stopped short of the simple room.

Your feet ceased to move.

Your eyes went wide.

For the first time since you had met Hector Salamanca, there was someone sitting with him that wasn’t paid to.

A man, to be specific.

He was knelt down in front of Hector with his back to you, and spoke with an almost child-like glee to him. A ringing formed in your ears, and it took you a long minute to finally realize the ringing was not just in your ears at all; the crisp sound of a service bell rang out in the room, and as you stared, you came to find that the sound was coming from…Hector.

Indeed there was a small bell catching the sunlight on the arm of his chair right where his mobile finger usually sat.

You felt happiness fill you as the initial shock subsided. It was a mutual loneliness that had made you take interest in Hector to begin with, and you foolishly hoped that perhaps someone would cure your solitude like this man cured his.

You were staring.

Evidently too long as well, as another harsh ring snapped you out of whatever trance you had been in. Now, however, you could see Hector’s harsh gaze on you- his mouth twitching as he rung the bell again. Clearly having Hector not fully pay attention to him made the man pause whatever he had been discussing. He murmured something to the elder man, and Hector rang his bell again.

You told yourself to just keep walking. But you couldn’t.

The man sat before your patient seemed to catch on, and followed his gaze, which lead to him turning his head, and finally seeing you.

It was his eyes that struck you first.

They glittered like warm honey.

The man looked between you and Hector and murmured something to him, which was met with the usual verbal silence, then he muttered something else and it resulted in a ring. You hoped to God that meant something positive because you had just noticed yet another man standing who you had never seen before standing just a few feet behind the crouched man. He looked very much like some kind of body guard, rather than a friend or family; your heartbeat picked up and you began to wonder just who Hector was. Certainly you had thought he must have been the head of a family and perhaps a business owner, but there was something so militant about the way this man standing there was guarding them.

It couldn’t have been longer than 7 seconds since you had become rooted to the spot, but it certainly felt worlds longer. Once you realized you had frozen, you blinked and forced a polite smile onto your face as you continued your path.

“Buenos días, Sr. Salamanca.” You said as casually as you could, hoping your nerves didn’t seep through. You hoped you would be able to make it past the men without incident, and you thought you had…but then another ring struck your nerves. There was a pause followed by murmuring, which you didn’t understand but went something along the lines of:

“¿Me estás diciendo que te las arreglaste para que esta linda niña cuidara al tío? Creo que pronto tendré que retirarme y unirme a vosotros, ¿sí?” then another few rings followed by a laugh.

His laugh- the man with the glittering eyes.

You had no idea what he had said, but something about the way he said it made a warmth creep up the back of your neck, and spread to your cheeks at the sound-

Snap

You stopped.

Snap

You turned far more jerkily than you wanted, and to your horror, the man crouching was now staring back at you intently with that smile still on his face, albeit more curt. He held his hand out and beckoned you over with two fingers. You swallowed, but fought to keep your face pleasant. Visitors didn’t usually interact with staff unless they needed something, or it was time for them to go…and you hoped this was one of the two.

You came to stand a few feet from the men, wanting to remain respectful, “Hola gentlemen, it’s nice to see Sr. Salamanca having some visitors.” The professional grin on your face didn’t reach your eyes. You were too nervous for that.

“My tio was just talking about you.” He told you brightly, “Says you’ve been looking after him, hm?” The kneeling man seemed to have no issue with dominating a conversation; you chanced a glance at the bald man standing, but he barely reacted. Goosebumps sprang up on your arms when you looked back at Hector’s nephew; unfamiliar with the direct attention.

“Well I…it’s what I’m here for, Señor.” You managed. There was something about this man that made it difficult to look away. The way his dark hair was combed neatly, and how the stripe of grey on the crown of his head swept into a curl that barely stayed back; how his brown eyes looked black in the shadows, and how the deep lines on his face made his expressions so defined; how his smile stretched so charmingly; how when he stared at you it was like only the two of you existed.

He scared you.

And he could tell.

He wagged his finger at you, “Ahh a humble girl, eh? If my tio likes you that’s good enough for me, niña…but you know- this is perfect!” He smiled even wider as he spoke almost animatedly, but you noted how the smile failed to reach his eyes now. “‘Cause now I’ll know just who to come to if my tio needs anything.” The man’s smile fell to rest as he blinked up at you, speaking so casually, yet you couldn’t help but note the menacing undertone of his words. Your brain was working overtime as you tried to piece things together; all you could come up with was that you didn’t want to upset anyone or say the wrong thing. You were certain these men were not your ordinary visitors, and you didn’t want to find out anything beyond that.

“Consider me accountable, Señor.” You heard yourself say.

A moment passed, and you so desperately wanted to break the stare he gave you, but then it as if nothing had happened when his stellar grin returned. He barked out a laugh at you.

“Esta niña, lo juro...” he said to the man standing, then turned back to you, “Eduardo Salamanca, but you can call me Lalo.” He beamed. His smile was infectious and you found the corners of your mouth tugging up a little, despite your nerves.

Like a wolf lulling a lamb into false security.

There was something expectant in his gaze as he told you his name, and you assumed it was him waiting to know yours. Tit for tat. The theatrical, charming nature of him coupled with whatever made his smile resemble a predator’s made your stomach flip. He was both sides of a coin simultaneously, and you struggled to process it.

“Y/n…y/n l/n.” You replied to him. Lalo repeated your name a few times, rolling it around in his mouth. Your eyes felt glazed over as you listened to him; like he was hypnotizing you. You hadn’t even noticed how you were wringing your hands, nor how you hadn’t torn your gaze from his.

Lalo patted his uncle’s arm after a moment, “You said no one’s visited my Tio?” His face turned inquisitive and concerned, though almost cartoonish. Like there was a joke you were missing.

You shook your head as you snapped back to your body. Somehow your anxiety was starting to fade, and you chalked it up to having a name to put to his face- it made him feel more human to you, “No. I- I almost started to wonder if- if he had family, Señor Lalo.”

He nodded, which caused the curl of grey in his hair to finally fall over his forehead. Your eyes instantly latched onto it.

He was handsome.

Then faster than lightning, Lalo turned and shot a look to the man standing, then nodded his head understandingly. Almost as if to check with the man to see if what you said was true.

“That will change…you know, you should see us Salamancas- we breed like rats.” He said proudly, and chuckled.

He had a nice voice. Rough and low with an easiness to it.

You felt your cheeks warm at his statement, then nodded and remembered to blink. “Well…I’m happy to hear that- that people will come t-to see him that is.” You murmured, stumbling to correct yourself.

You watched his smile pull into a boyish smirk and you looked down to wipe away a nonexistent fluff from your uniform.

“I promise, you’ll have to smoke me and Nacho outta here. I’m looking after the family business so you’ll see lots of us.” He laughed, and nodded to the man behind him.

You looked at the other man, and smiled a little as if to aknowledge his presence. The stare he gave back to you was…bordering on sympathetic. Not what you expected.

You suddenly felt as if you were bordering on something you shouldn’t, despite your softness for the elder Salamanca.

You decided to trust your intuition.

“Well…I don’t want to intrude on your visit anymore. I’ll leave you gentlemen to it…Sr.Salamanca’s nurse should be by to take him in a little while.” You gave both men a small smile and nodded to Hector, who frowned deeper at the mention of his caregiver.

Lalo seemed to notice the change, and his smile dropped a little in curiosity. You sighed, and came a little closer to Lalo so no one would hear, “Sr.Salamanca doesn’t like her…and between you and me I think he’ll be even more Uh…vocal about it with this beautiful bell.”

Lalo’s eyes went comically wide, but the smile tugging under his moustache betrayed him. He was ecstatic. “Really? Will that be an issue?”

You noticed he didn’t clarify if he was talking about the bell or the nurse.

His charisma began to draw you back in, and you shook your head, “There won’t be an issue.”

He nodded and clapped his thigh, “Excellent!”

His reaction seemed to put you at ease, not that it should have. This man was playful in a very odd way and you didn’t know if feeling comfortable around him was a good thing. But you weren’t sure how long you would keep up with his banter, so you excused yourself.

“Right, well…enjoy the rest of your visit.” You smiled slightly again at both men, and backed away before turning and walking quickly out of the foyer. Your hands were shaking- you weren’t used to such direct conversation- with a stranger at that.

You heard Lalo say say “Adios!” to you, and you cast a quick smile back, but you didn’t stop. Panic began to rise in you as you recalled the last time someone had shown you such an amount of charm…the bastard had eaten you up and you had had to crawl out of his stomach. And there you were: hiding.

As soon as you were down the hall and out of view, you gasped and braced against the wall; your heart was working over time.

“You alright sweetie?” One of the male nurses stopped next to as you as he passed. A nice older man named Jim.

You sucked in a breath and forced a smile, “Y-yeah, thank you…just one of those days.” You reassured him. The man pursed his mouth, but didn’t press anymore as he nodded sympathetically. It was was well known that you were a private person, and you appreciated when someone respected that.

As your chest slowly unclenched, you felt your head grow light. Your poor nerves were so shot that you truly were unsure as to whether that man was just charming and witty, or if he was just trying to get in your head. You couldn’t tell the difference between a genuine interaction and a narcissistic one anymore.

You rolled his name over in your head, and found that you enjoyed how it sounded.

Lalo…

You found yourself mentally throttling your brain over how it began to assume the worst. That you had chosen to lightly insert yourself into an old man’s life when you shouldn’t have; that you were being selfish. Stupid. Dependant. All of the above. You felt the weight of your guilt strain on your shoulders, and you let it.

You were being selfish and childish. You didn’t have a family, and you needed to stop pretending you did just because an old man didn’t hate you.

A little over a week passed since you met Hector’s eccentric nephew, and you had to admit that he had entered your mind a few times despite you actively not trying to think of that family. You felt a pang of hurt in your chest every time you did. You had no business envying them- it wasn’t your place.

That Wednesday was a very pleasant day; there was a light breeze that cooled the air and dried the sweat that gathered on your brow. You rounded the corner of the main living area that fed out into the patio, and as you stepped out, the fresh air made you inhale deeply. As you looked up and down the outside area, you felt yourself pause. He was back. You were met with the amusing sight of Lalo Salamanca retrieve a flask, pour out the jello vitamin mix that sat in front of Hector, and pour a hefty serving of liquor inside the cup. You almost laughed. These elderly people loved their alcohol.

For a couple seconds, you allowed yourself to take in Lalo’s appearance. You knew he was handsome since you first saw him, but you felt as if you could appreciate just how well he cared for himself now. A rich purple polo that pulled tight around his biceps…neat hair and moustache, a polished gold necklace just peaking out against his chest-

Stop it.

You shook yourself and forced your mind to push any thoughts of him out. Your trust in your ability to judge a character was under great scrutiny every since…since you got away.

This man was charming, and that was it.

It was company policy for no alcohol to be on the premises, but instead of making Hector’s day even more miserable, you let him have a few sips as you stayed just out of their view until Lalo hid the flask. Once you stepped out, you let your professional smile settle onto your tired face.

“Good afternoon Señor Salamanca, Señor Lalo.” You greeted them; your nerves were already starting to amp up in his proximity, but you managed to speak with a little less discomfort than last time.

As if to return the greeting, you heard Hector’s bell sound just as the younger of the two turned to you and smiled, “Ahh the humble señorita.” Lalo leaned an arm over the back of his chair- opening his stance. His voice was a pleasant rumble in the back of his throat. You noted that he appeared to be far more at ease this visit. First visits were often the hardest for family- seeing their loved ones in a nursing-home could be a difficult pill to swallow.

Lalo continued, “You got a pretty sweet deal here.” He look at around appraisingly as he took in the patio. Admittedly it was one of the more favoured sections of the home and recently renovated. But he was right, it wasn’t that bad of a facility.

“I can’t complain too much.” You agreed, and folded your hands in front of yourself as you stood between the men. Lalo’s personality was far louder than what you were used to, and the part of you that craved human connection urned to keep up with him; once upon a time you might have had the ability…but not anymore. You admired how quick and bright-burning he was- like a firecracker.

Lalo smiled. “Polite.”

Your brow furrowed, “Sorry?”

He shook his head- smile growing- and looked at Hector then back to you, “Hey there’s nothing wrong with it- you’re humble too…you some kinda saint? You gotta be to work in a place like this- I’d lose my mind.” He laughed and leaned more into his chair.

His statement made you pause for a moment. It wasn’t that far off from the truth- the need for patience that is.

“Taking care of someone can mean accepting them like a part of your family…there’s a real selflessness that you have to find in you, Señor Lalo. For myself it’s a bit easier than most…I-I don’t exactly have much of a family, so Hector fills a pretty big void at the moment.” You said simply. It was the honest truth. You shared your patient’s happy moments and their worst moments; they trusted you with their well-being, so it was only fair that you cared for them blindly- job or not.

It was no small admission- to say that you were isolated- but Lalo had a way about him that loosened your tongue.

He stared up at you for a moment, then huffed out a laugh, “Be careful with a Salamanca, we bite.” He pointed at you playfully, though you gathered that while he was indeed teasing, there was a more serious connotation to his words.

Lalo’s dark eyes glittered with mirth as he regarded you.

“Even you, Señor Lalo?” You tilted your head to the side slightly, and watched him shyly.

The older man’s smile formed into an amused smirk, “Klah- me? Never.” He scoffed, but his bright eyes betrayed him.

This man was trouble.

Your lips tugged upwards as you nodded to both men; his jest was not lost on you. It was as if he wished you would ask him how hard his bite was, but you knew that would likely be a poor choice on your part. “Prey can bite too, Señor,” you quipped.

Evidently your response surprised the man as his thick brows rose up. You felt regret pull at you for engaging in his game, but you didn’t want to immediately back down. Shock was a nice expression to see on a man so sure of himself. You nodded to both men, and took a step back, “Enjoy your visit, Señors.”

You continued your route, and made your way onto your next check-up; the feeling of eyes burning into the back of your skull followed you as you went, and a few eager dings from Hector’s bell rang in your ears.

When you finished with one of your oldest patients, Thomas Lee - who did not get along with Hector at all- you tentatively looked back at the far table; it was empty now. Even Hector was gone. You sighed and pursed your mouth, knowing you were playing with fire with this man. A part of you hoped that he would stop coming, or visit on your couple days off.

Stupid.

You were being stupid, and that was that.

The day ended like every single one before that. With you and your coworkers exhaused, hungry, covered in sticky grime, and back sore. You stood in front of your locker, taking a drink from your bottle when another attendant you knew walked to hers. Samantha…yes, her name was Samantha.

“Hey.” You greeted her, smiling sympathetically at eachother.

“Going home too?” She asked as he took her hair down from its curly bun.

You nodded and retrieved your bag, hoping you had something in your fridge to eat. “Sure am…”

She unlocked her locker and smiled a little, “Saw you talking to that visitor of Hector’s today…he’s not bad on the eyes hey?” She smiled.

You felt your cheeks flush, “Oh, yeah…hes nice.” You replied, not wanting to get into it…but then a thought crossed your mind. “Sam?” You asked her.

She turned to you and nodded. “Mhm?”

“Do…do you know anything about Hector? Ab-about his family?” You murmured, looking up at her.

Her brows hopped up and she shuffled a little closer to you, “Mr. Salamanca?” She confirmed.

You nodded after a moment, not fully certain you were ready, but your curiosity was too strong.

Sam looked around briefly, “Well…I mean you know we’re not supposed to really ask questions or anything…” she began, “…but…I’ve heard a few things.” Sam nodded her head and you noticed her playfulness lessened.

You turned to her fully now and gave her your full attention…she seemed to understand that you were curious. That, and she had been trying to talk to you properly for months and was likely over the moon that you weren’t being skittish.

“I- I’d like to know…” you said a little more gently than you usually did.

She sighed, and nodded. “Apparently…those guys that dropped Hector off were really strange…didn’t speak, and just gave Ronny- the reception guy, remember he quit last month? Yeah him, anyways…they gave him this folder with all of Hector’s information and there was no spot open for the old fart…but after a few phone calls, there was suddenly a spot open. It was so weird, but- I don’t know…” she stopped her speculation but you wanted to hear more.

“Please- it- it’s okay, this is between us.” You reassured her, and you meant it. You had expected her to just brush you off or say no, but now it was as if the name Salamanca was a curiosity to you all.

A beat passed before Sam finished with her locker and shut it. “It just…I don’t speak much Spanish but they always speak so secretively…just…I don’t know they might just be talking about family gossip but sometimes it’s fun to imagine they’re actually some…I don’t know a mafia or cartel family or something.”

As the words left her mouth, you felt the blood drain from your face. Everything that struck you as strange flashed before your eyes and it began to make sense-

“But honestly they’re probably just weird- you should see my folks, they’re nuts. I just like to make stories up for everyone to make the days go faster! See you tomorrow.” She smiled and walked past you, leaving you there with this new possibility weighing heavy on you.

Once you finally pulled yourself from the locker room, and waved a few dazed goodbyes to the staff you saw, you stepped outside and walked out to the parking lot. Your car keys caught on your nurse’s mask as you pulled them from your bag and you tsked them. You were preoccupied with the task as you made your way in the direction of where you parked, and once you freed them and looked up, you froze in the middle of the parking lot.

You knew that curl of grey anywhere. Lalo stood leaning against your car, with his hands in his pockets and a friendly smile on his face pointed at you. Since meeting him, You had yet to see him stand up, and now at his full height, his sturdy frame overpowered you even from a few meters away. He was tall and broad and confident, and you felt very small all of a sudden.

“So! Where are we going?” He said. His smile didn’t reach his eyes and he didn’t even try to hide it.

“Wha-?” You asked as you managed to go closer.

He rolled his eyes “C’mon- you hungry? I’m famished.” He stood away from the hood, and his tone was so persuasive you almost forgot about what Sam had said.

Almost.

You shook your head and tried to be as friendly as you could in an effort to hide how your hands shook, “Really it’s alright, I’m —“

His smile finally dropped. “Get in.”

His statement made you contemplate running. Getting back inside the retirement home and locking yourself in a closet, but you had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn’t end well. Hell you doubted you’d even make it a few paces from him before his big hand grabbed your hair. So against your better judgement, you nodded and wordlessly handed him the keys.

“There she goes, Atta girl.” He smiled again, and accepted the keys joyfully; this time the creases around his eyes deepened. Lalo slid into the drivers side and started the car. As he went to back out, he cast a look around the inside, and seemed to note that you didn’t take the best care of the car.

“You need a tool box?” He asked.

You buckled yourself in and barely caught what he said as you mentally screamed at yourself for getting in the car. Were you really that stupid? “Wha- huh? Oh-“ you caught where he was looking and cursed yourself for being so sloppy.

You backseat housed several materials you carried with you in case you car broke down -which it had the tendency to do. A pair of wire cutters wrapped in duct tape and some pliers to match, a lug wrench, a jack and a pylon…not to mention a first aid kit and a blanket. “I’m…I uh…just haven’t had the time.” You murmured, “Sorta new here.”

The older man frowned exaggeratedly and rose his brows as if to say “Alright then.” And silently put the car in reverse. He backed out with one hand on the wheel and the other on the back of your seat, and you had no choice but to smell his scent…you didn’t know if it was cologne or something else but he smelled of smoke and whiskey…and something sweet like syrup. Like he had been sitting in front of a fire drinking after dessert.

“So! Why don’t you tell me about yourself.” Lalo navigated easily through the streets, and looked over at you like you were old friends.

You thought for a moment, having taken an interest in a hangnail on your thumb. “Not much to tell, Señor.” You said as you looked up. It wasn’t a lie. Your story was a sad one and not a terribly interesting one at that.

“Cmon.” He dragged the word out, “You said you count my Tio as family…any normal person wouldn’t say that in a million years.” The older man laughed and tilted his head to chase your gaze a little when you averted your eyes.

“Why do you say that?” You asked as you looked down again.

Lalo gave you a pointed look. “Smart girl like you can figure that out, niñita.”

You sighed. It wasn’t as if you could just walk away from the conversation…he had you. Regardless of his motivations, Lalo was undoubtedly protective of his uncle…and you had to respect that. You wished you knew what it was like to have someone so protective, but you could imagine it was liberating.

“You think I have some kind of alterier motive behind my kindness to your uncle.” You said simply, trusting your intuition.

Lalo looked out the window, and you wondered if he had even heard your answer.

“You hungry?” He asked, pointing to a burger joint as he already turned his indicator on to pull in.

The sudden change in topic made you blink, your brain lagging. “I-…sure. Don’t stop on my account though I have food at home.” You squeezed your hands out of anxiousness, but he was already going to the drive thru. You had completely forgotten about how hungry you were for the last hour when you saw him in the parking lot. Now seeing the menu, your stomach growled.

“Whatdya want?” He asked expectantly.

It felt so…domestic. You had gone from being certain you might end up being interrogated in a warehouse to him taking you for food in a matter of seconds. You felt your stomach tighten with unease at the memory of the last person who had taken you through a drive thru; that time however you had been disassociating so badly you didn’t even remember ordering nor eating. Ungrateful he had called you.

Snap snap

Your eyes refocused and saw a large hand in front of your face having just snapped a couple times to get your attention.

You swallowed and sighed to steady yourself.

“What’s good here?” You asked, turning to him.

One of his full brows was raised at your odd behaviour, but his face went back to his playful demeanour instantly. “Depends…but their number 2 and number 8 are good.”

You nodded thoughtfully, “What do you get?”

He held up two fingers, pulling the car up through the drive thru to the speaker, “I’m from the south though so I like to add extra spice. Burns your mouth right off but god it’s worth it, you know?” The lines around his mouth and eyes deepened when he smiled and spoke.

Your couldn’t help but return the smile a little at him. You gathered he could probably befriend anyone he set his sights on. A people person…regardless of how intimidating he was.

“I’ll get the same…but um, I think I’d like to keep my mouth.” You said the last part a little shyly, hoping he wouldn’t take offence.

Lalo laughed, “Too bad, I was looking forward to seeing how red your pretty face would get!”

You…were not expecting that. You didn’t have time to reply or ask him to repeat himself before he was leaning out the window and adding extra fries to your order.

“You ever been to Mexico?” Lalo asked as he started driving again up to the window.

You shook your head, “No…haven’t been to a lot of places.”

He gasped, “No! Really? Ahh man, you’d love it. Best food in the world.”

When the window came into view you instinctively reached for your purse when you saw Lalo already producing a $20, and re-pocketing a wad of cash. He tsked you when he noticed you.

The woman at the window handed him the two bags of food and drinks and he smiled charmingly. “Gracias!” Lalo beamed, depositing your order in your lap, then began his way through the city again.

“Plain number 2 for you and fun number 2 for papi, you like orange? I got you an orange soda, you’re gonna love it. Used to smuggle these bastards when I was a kid…my Tio beat the shit outta me for it.” He laughed as he handed you the drink; shaking his head as he steered the car one handed and rifled through his paper bag with the other.

You accepted the orange coloured soda, brows shooting up. He was…generous. The smell of the burger hit you, and you felt your mouth water. It had been ages since you had a proper meal, even if it was take-out. You tentatively took your food out, and took a bite. You swore stars erupted in front of your eyes as the taste filled your mouth; pleasure sensors in your brain lighting up.

The older man beside you watched you out of the corner of his eye as he ate and drove. A proficient multitasker. You were hungry. Seemingly non-threatening…skittish…but you weren’t off-putting. Tired. Definitely tired.

Lalo pulled off the main road and began the drive into the neighbourhoods; he continued to take the occasional bite of his food as he drove. You wondered how he could be so relaxed constantly. You wondered if he had a single tense bone in his body. He was always at ease…like he was always 10 steps ahead of everyone. He was handsome, and you wondered if he used that as a distraction for what lay underneath; perhaps he was a calculating, plotting and scheming man under all the smiles and goofy theatrics…

Your food was gone within 5 minutes.

When Lalo finally looked over at you, he barked out a pleased laugh when he saw the empty wrapper and your last few fries in your hand.

“Shit, I’d better be careful or you might eat me!” He joked, and took a sip of his soda.

You hadn’t realized it but your shoulders had dropped and your fists had unclenched. You were relaxed.

And the older man beside you knew it.

“Tell me…what do you know about us Salamancas.” He said as if he was commenting on the weather.

You knew the question was coming, how could he not ask?

You put your drink down, and thought carefully. “You’re all very…intense.” You replied.

Lalo laughed, “Good one. What else?”

This time you fiddled with a napkin still in your lap. You didn’t want him to think you actually knew anything, because you honestly didn’t. You used your brain and speculated and observed, but you didn’t know much at all. You knew Hector likes grape jello more than raspberry and that Lalo’s necklace was that of Saint Anne- the Mother of Santa Maria…but that was the extent of what you knew for certain.

“You run some kind of business…here in Albuquerque…and I…I think you’re not just some nobody with an uncle in a nursing home…” You murmured almost to yourself. You half hoped he would ask you to repeat yourself so you could come up with something else…but his ears were as sharp as a fox.

“Ahh see, clever girl. I thought so.” His smile slowly faded into a calm line. “Why do you care for my Tio? Don’t tell me he’s your type- you’ll break my heart.” Lalo’s cheeky grin came back.

The jest did lighten your anxiety a little, just as the food had, but you noted that he ignored the mention it the business. He was evasive. And he was charming while he did it.

You knew Lalo had his doubts about you…even if it was for the home itself and not just you, you were th# lucky bastard who he had chosen to interrogate. If you wanted him to understand exactly why it was that you were so at ease with caring for grumpy elderly people - specifically Hector- you needed him to see your perspective. If this was any other relative of a patient, you would have jumped out of the car or booked it before he could have even gotten you inside…but you had a nagging feeling that the only way this would end well was if you saw it through. No matter how painful it was.

“You didn’t see him for the last 2 months, Señor…” You said gently, “He’s…he’s been alone. Completely. No visitors, no friends amongst the other patients…he’s- well non-verbal patients have a difficult time as it is…but paralysed one’s have it even harder…and I- well…I don’t exactly have anyone…at all really. Don’t have contact with anyone so…I think there’s just a certain level of recognition between people who are alone. I’ve been looking after Hector for two months now…you don’t know how hard it is to see him sit alone during visiting hours- for any of my patients that have to do that for that matter. I wouldn’t wish loneliness on my worst enemy, Señor. He didn’t have anyone and if he died tomorrow I wouldn’t sleep knowing he didn’t at least think someone cared enough to look after him, blood related or not.”

You meant it. You knew your fate was likely destined to be a lonely one, but if you could change that for someone else, then you were going to do your damned best…of course you had to chose a more complicated person but it wasn’t as if you were a terribly lucky person.

Lalo didn’t take his eyes off the road, and it wasn’t until the car stopped that you realized you were outside your little apartment building. Lalo tapped on the steering wheel for a moment, then he turned in his seat to face you.

“You mean that?” He asked, turning his gaze to you.

You went to open your mouth but he gave you a look that pinned you to the spot. He didn’t need to say anything for him to convey “don’t fuck around with me.”.

“You seem to be a busy man, Señor…maybe a wife or even a family,” You mused aloud while you ripped a piece of napkin. Your distracted gaze meant you missed how Lalo’s nostrils flared when you mentioned him having a family, “You must have a comfortable life…one way or another. But not everyone has that. A lot of people don’t. I…I don’t have much…my work is my life right now. Sure they’re not the most lively people to engage with but my patients mean a lot to me…because they take up a lot of my life…and after- well…right now I don’t mind it.” You said with conviction, then sighed, “Sounds sad now that I say it aloud…but don’t doubt me.” You turned to look at Lalo in those dark eyes of his, “Don’t you dare doubt me.”

As you spoke, Lalo’s mouth faded into a firm line under his moustache. But even then, his eyes glittered. He was quiet for a few moments, then he hummed.

“You got a mouth on you, kid.” He rumbled.

You held his stare for a moment. You were certain you had crossed a line with telling him off.

Then, just when you were certain he might jump on you or worse, he broke out in a laugh and smile, smacking the wheel in amusement, “I see why Hector likes you. You got a bite for being a ratoncito…I’d hate to see someone knock your teeth out.” He dropped your keys in your hand and in one fluid motion opened his door and stepped out.

His sense of humour was borderline morbid, but seeing him smile while saying it more reassuring than him not.

You followed suit, and stepped out of the car; Lalo joined you on the sidewalk as he seemed to inspect the neighbourhood. Then as he stood there with his hands at his sides, you remembered that he had no way of getting back to his own car at the nursing home.

“I- Thank you for driving me home, Señor…can I- can I call you a cab?” You didn’t know what else to say. This man had practically interrogated you, bought you dinner, and drove you home. You didn’t know what to do with an interaction like that; we’re you supposed to run and hide or thank him?…or both? You didn’t know why, but regardless of his intentions, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to be scared of him…not really. He was intimidating and imposing, certainly, but it wasn’t as if he was threatening you.

You hated that you couldn’t come to a concise evaluation of the man.

Lalo shrugged and looked down at you. “Nah.” He said playfully.

Your brows scrunched up in confusion and you were about to protest, but then a red car pulled up almost directly behind him with the same man who had been standing with him that first day. Nacho? Nacho.

“Señor Lalo?” You called as he opened the door. The older man turned to you and looked at you expectantly.

“What, still hungry?” He replied.

You forced yourself to look him in the eye.

“If you insist upon giving Hector alcohol…I suggest the second to last table on the patio towards the west. Much fewer eyes.” You said simply.

Lalo smiled widely and pointed his index finger at you. He did that often, you noticed. “I’ll pour you one next time, eh?” He laughed.

You smiled a little. “I don’t think that would end well.”

“I look forward to it!” He smiled even wider and you pursed your lips to keep from returning it. You didn’t want him to know that he was wrapping you around his finger whether you liked it or not.

Lalo sat in the the car, and he waved briefly before they pulled away and left you there with your head still reeling. You didn’t even remember walking up to your apartment or undressing or getting into the shower…but there you were under the warm stream of water trying to understand and rationalise what had just transpired. You were frightened, then at ease, then thankful, then suspicious, then open, then…you head spun. You had become to accustomed to your little quiet bubble with minimal interactions outside of it…and this man had forced his way through it like a freight train.

And what frighted you the most was that you didn’t want him not to.

Your hands shook as you remembered the last time someone had seemed so charming and sweet. You rolled your eyes.

Arms length. You would keep this man at arms length- just like you did with almost everyone else.

Three weeks passed before you saw Lalo Salamanca again.

It wasn’t as if you expected to see him often, or even at all…but the man had a certain way about him that made you miss his presence. He was so all-consuming and confident that it was noticeable when he wasn’t there. You also noticed how Hector’s mood began to drop again. You didn’t blame him.

In an attempt to make the man a little easier to handle, you started teaching yourself some simple Spanish when you had the time. It helped greatly that several clients and staff members spoke it well, and they humoured you in teaching you a few things each day. You supposed they were mostly taking pity on you, but you didn’t mind too much.

You started to feel a little more normal since coming to the scorching city…like you were starting to grow away from where you had run from. You even made a joke that made Jim laugh.

In the back of your mind, you did feel something odd though. Like there was something in your peripheral that you just couldn’t catch. You had sworn that you’d seen the same car on your route for a few days…but you also knew that your paranoia was still very present.

By the second week, you begun to notice how much the language helped around the home. Staff taught you basic things that you said day to day, and your patients helped with more conversational language…your empty head was thankful for the distraction and soaked it up like a sponge. You were tired of the nervous and stressful thoughts that usually occupied the space.

It was early on a Friday when you heard the unmistakable sound of Hector’s bell ringing. You hoped it was that he had gotten his favourite breakfast and not that he had been seated beside someone he didn’t like- you gadnt had enough coffee yet to deal with angry seniors.

There was very little to do following breakfast as the clients enjoyed some free time before activities started; you indulged your curiosity and followed the ringing sound. You sought it out until you came to the patio, and you felt a tiny smile on your lips when you looked past the array of wheelchairs and nurses; there at the second to last table sat two very engaged Salamancas facing away from the entrance you came from.

You saw Lalo give his uncle the occasional sip from the styrofoam cup on the table, and you already knew that was no vitamin mix in there. As you inconspicuously made your way over, checking on a few clients as you went, you began to notice just how tense Lalo seemed from behind. You didn’t want to think that you knew he body language perfectly, but for someone who was usually aloof in his mannerisms, having tight shoulders was far more noticeable.

You slowed your steps once you got closer; they were in conversation. A one sided one but you knew they communicated regardless of Hector’s muteness.

Then you made the poor decision to listen. Your Spanish was very juvenile, but you had come to pick up on a lot - especially phrases and words that were similar to English. Which was why you started to realise that what you were listening to Lalo say was not meant to be heard by anyone but his Tio.

With what you knew and could piece together, you heard a few words that sounded familiar enough; secreto, hombre pollo, establecimiento, restaurante, and quemar. The last one you knew very well thanks to an elderly woman named Pricilla pouring hot tea into the lap of an elderly man named Jerry -evidently his admission of love to her was false and she found out- and his cries of “Quemar!” still rang in your ears. Your mind worked to add everything together and from what you could gather was that there was a restaurant of some kind that could very well end up burned to the ground…and you were fairly certain that Lalo disliked the owner or manager.

Hector’s dinging continued, and you could almost taste the tension growing.

You were about to take the last few strides right up to them, but one word stopped you.

…Cártel.

Every muscle in your body froze simultaneously.

It was no confirmation, but it might as well have been.

It fit.

The respect Hector seemed used to, the rumours, Nacho standing like a guard dog, the lack of visitors, the sudden admission of Hector into the home, the low conversations…you thought back to when he had driven you home and added intimidation tactics to the list. The wad of cash in Lalo’s pocket too.

Then, you felt yourself unclench and a morbid sense of peace washed over you. It wasn’t as if you were reassured; it was that you were still alive. It didn’t mean a lot, but it meant that they either liked you, or had a better use for you…and by god you hoped that use was simply to look after Hector and not to swallow baggies of drugs to smuggle across the border.

And of all people, you had chosen them to befriend.

“There she is!”

You refocused your eyes and as your gaze landed on the man with the skunk stripe on his temple, you let a polite grin grace your features. He was half turned in his chair to greet you- that smile already pulling under his groomed moustache.

“Señor Salamanca, I see you’re enjoying your special juice.” You gave both men a knowing look, then turned back to Lalo, “Señor Lalo, it’s been a little while since I saw you last. I hope you’ve been alright.” You heard yourself say.

You supposed there was no point in trying to run. They had you, and you had let them reel you in; there was no reason to be cold to them. It wasn’t as if you were a cookie cutter Mary-sue yourself.

“Ahh you know how it is…la vida es una locura.” He waved his hand aloofly, resting his arm over the back of his chair. You noticed that he did not elaborate nor answer your query.

“I think I have an idea.” You confirmed both his English and his Spanish.

The easy smile on Lalo’s face seemed to go still. It no longer reached his eyes, and you took a little reckless satisfaction in that.

“Really?” He asked with a prodding tone. You had a feeling he was quick to catch your double meaning.

You smiled tightly, adjusting Hector’s chair since his nurse hadn’t. “Truly.” You replied. “You must be busy…Business doesn’t run itself, I’m sure.” You were walking on ice, and you knew it…but you enjoyed poking at the beast a little.

Lalo’s lips parted at your quip, then he barked out a laugh and pointed at you, “You got some eyes on you.”

You couldn’t remember the full story of Icarus, but you knew he died because he flew too close to the sun regardless of his fathers warnings…and you felt very much like that foolish Greek man. Lalo was a scorching flame and you were standing far too close.

“Always good to see you, Señor Lalo…enjoy your visit.” You nodded to Hector who had been watching the exchange between the two of you, and he dinged his bell at you once.

“Adios.” Lalo gave you a two fingered wave, and you excused yourself.

As soon as your back turned from them, your hands began to shake; adrenaline moved through your blood like a poison or antidote. You didn’t know which.

Jim passed by you with a greeting smile and nod, and you schooled your face quickly. “Could you take Thomas into the bingo room? It’s 2:30.” He said to you, and you welcomed the task to ground you.

“Sure thing.” You murmured.

You didn’t fully remember the rest of the day- you were too busy trying to remember everything you had heard Lalo say to his Tio…jotting things down on sticky notes with poor spelling and guessed words. You almost felt…responsible for what you heard. You knew you were in deep, and you knew that by being curious you were digging yourself even deeper, but somehow you couldn’t stop. It was a sick need to know exactly what you were dealing with.

The day ended like every single one before it; you were exhaused and aching and only had a few thoughts in your head and most of them were of how comfortable your bed would be once you got home. The only difference that day was your anxiety over the notes you had made that day- hoping you didn’t forget any.

You swore under your breath when your keys once again were caught on something in your bag-

“Fancy seeing you here, niña.”

Your head snapped up despite you trying to keep yourself as calm as possible. You swore the older man just liked making you jump.

“Do you practice those lines in the mirror Señor Lalo?” You asked softly, tilting your head up to look at him; Lalo was leaned against your car just as he had taken to doing now.

“You wound me!” He gasped, placing his hand on his chest.

“How long have you been out here?” You asked, standing almost toe to toe to him as he refused to move from his place.

You knew he likely wanted something, and he was using his perfected charm and relentlessness to get it. You internally braced yourself for him to tell you to get in the car again…that he knew you knew more than you let on…and that you should make peace with whatever god you had before putting an extra hole in your head. You didn’t want to think the worst of him and his family, but if that did indeed happen, you wouldn’t be shocked.

But Lalo didn’t move, and he didn’t say anything at first. His smile didn’t falter, though it did lower a little to sit comfortably under his moustache. You watched as he unfolded one of his arms from across his chest and extend his hand to you- what was in it more specifically. There was a little yellow piece of paper folded between his forefinger and middle finger.

“No bedtime stories alright?” He pointed at you with a teasing and cheeky grin on his mouth as he winked down at you.

You took the paper, and felt his skin brush yours for half a second- he was warm. You chose to ignore that, and you focused on unfolding it. It was just a number. His. He had given you his phone number. A cartel phone number. Your brain started reeling again. Then, as you looked at it, you make a mental note that the writing was slanted the opposite way than you usually saw, then you thought for a moment.

He was left handed.

You grinned to yourself at the realisation. You didn’t know why you saved that information, but it made the enigmatic man in front of you seem more human- like knowing he had a belly button or that he had baby teeth that fell out at one time. It was perhaps childish but you liked knowing more about him.

“I-…Thank you.” You said as you placed it neatly into your purse. Once upon a time you would have refused the number and told him it was alright- that you didn’t need it, that if he wanted to get in touch with Hector he could go through the home….but you supposed you knew better now. You knew he didn’t take no for an answer, and you supposed you should show some respect to him for giving you something so personal.

“Atta girl. Don’t work too hard, eh?” He finally moved out of your way and began back to his own -much nicer- car.

“Likewise!” You called to him and he seemed pleased with your answer as he smiled.

You watched the older man get inside his Monte Carlo, and you mirrored him. Your car was hot and the seat radiated unwanted warmth into your back, but you could barely focus on that. You pulled out, and passed his as you went to the exit. Lalo watched you go, and while you waved, he returned it with two fingers extended up from the wheel.

You knew you had errands to run, but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to. The notes you had made yourself were burning holes in your pockets, and your want to know what they meant was outweighing your need for groceries and laundry detergent.

In fact, you were so preoccupied with getting home that you didn’t even notice the car that was following you; just as it had been for weeks.

The sticky notes sat arranged neatly on your floor, and your computer stared back at you as you considered your options.

Option 1: try to find proper translations of what was said and risk knowing too much and possible death.

Option 2: tear the papers up and pretend you heard nothing and act like the Salamancas are just an honest business owning family…and possible death because you were naive and didn’t know what you were getting into.

You felt your eye twitch.

Both such tempting options.

But the more you thought, the louder that one word became.

Cartel.

You really know how to pick ‘em y/n…

You sighed and rolled your shoulders as you began typing. You knew that whatever translator you could find wouldn’t be perfect, but you just needed enough to understand. The English to Spanish dictionary you had bought two weeks ago sat open beside you are you poured over the notes you had made. The more you typed and searched and double check, the more your mind began to race- evidently there was indeed more to that family than you had anticipated when you initially befriended their patriarch.

You stared at the translated sentences now, and heaved a sigh.

“We need to burn that restaurant to the ground. I’ll burn it like last time, uncle.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“The chicken man’s establishments are blinding him, can’t see past his greed.”

“He thinks his secret is so fantastic.”

You knew they weren’t perfect translations, but you got the message. There was unrest, and Lalo was sent to deal with it. Whoever this “chicken man” was, he was causing problems.

You let your eyes glaze over as you started to think.

A restaurant.

You checked your notes.

“Restaurants.” Plural.

So a chain of restaurants.

With chicken?

Chicken was a code name? No…Lalo wouldn’t do code names…he mocks people and pokes at their weaknesses, but he’s not the CIA or FBI. He was being literal when he called him the “Chicken man.”

Did he smuggle drugs in chickens? Use it as a cover?

Chicken is their speciality?

You stared at your original note with Spanish.

“Los pollos” …you had seen that somewhere before. You felt your brain stretch as you tried to recall. A restaurant…Los pollos…you started to run the two ideas around in your mind.

Restaurant…Los pollos…restaurant…Los pollos-

Your head snapped up and you frantically scrambled over to your pile of spam mail that you had been ignoring. You knew that name. You did.

You grabbed a chunk of the mail and started sifting through it carefully, scanning every new cellphone, ever greasy pizza place, every-

Your hand gripped blue and yellow ad a little tighter.

The two chicken logo stared back at you.

Los Pollos Hermanos.

No. There was no way.

You couldn’t help the little laugh that came from your chest- either from stress or shock, you weren’t sure. Perhaps a mix of both.

You had driven past it a few times. It was always so clean looking, and you remembered the nice smell you always caught through your window when you passed by it.

You were about to tell yourself that you were being delusional, and that you were too invested in this…but then you supposed the saying of “it’s always the quiet ones” could apply to more than just people. Nice, cookie-cutter restaurants could perhaps be fronts for a drug dealing cartel.

The initial shock began to wear off, and you slowly started to look over what else you had translated.

“I’ll take care of it.” Lalo had said.

Burn the restaurant down, more like…

You wondered what he was capable of. Had he killed people? How many?

Your thoughts strayed to the man himself.

Trouble. That was what you first thought of him.

You thought about his charm and charisma…how he carried himself. He was a confident man in every sense. He adapted his tactics to fit the people he wanted something from…you knew he used it on you too. He was kind and a little pushy but not enough to scare you. He bought you food and drove you home with no immediate expectation…he made you smile and welcomed you. He made you feel seen. Criminal or not…he saw you.

A stupid idea crossed your mind. You knew you were in deep already, and with each passing day it was as if you took a shovel and continued to dig deeper. The thought you had was fuelled purely by your own involvement with the Salamancas and juvenile selfishness.

A stupid impulse to help the two people who made you feel like a human.

Without another thought, you grabbed your bag, checked the stove clock, and were in your car within 5 minutes. You didn’t even bother the change. The route that took you by Los Apollo’s was almost muscle memory, and you were able to let your mind wander as you went. Anything to keep you distracted from what you were doing.

It was closing time once you reached the restaurant. Lights were being shut off, and you could see several workers leaving, and a few more mopping the floors. As you pulled into a parking spot across the street to watch, you noted that there was a level of order to the way duties were carried out. It was methodical and you wondered what kind of training these kids went through…

Every so often, you would see an older man come out to the front and inspect something. His back was straight was he moved just as carefully as the staff cleaned; he was in a yellow dress shirt and tie- nothing significant. The manager or owner you assumed. Your interest was peaked.

You sat there for two hours until almost every single person left. Almost. You waited an extra 20 minutes before leaving, and you were glad you did. If you had left after that those two hours, you wouldn’t have seen that same older man you have observed off and on for 120 minutes exit the building, only now he resembled almost an entirely different person. He was in a sharp black suit, and the change had you so distracted that you didn’t even catch the bulky, black SUV pull in around where the man stood off to the side of the building. Of course, it could have just been nothing- it wasn’t up to you to judge what someone looked like or did after work…but things were clicking together far too easily for you to just gaslight yourself into thinking everyone was Mr.Rogers.

After what you heard Lalo say, you felt your gut sink as you decided that you were indeed not looking at an average business owner. Your I tuition had let you down before, but something about the heat of Albuquerque had you seeing people much more clearly…and if Lalo wanted this man gone, then you had a sneaking suspicion that was a big deal.

The black SUV drove away with the man in it, and you decided that was enough for one night. All at once, your suspicions and thoughts and curiosities were all but confirmed; all you needed was a sign on that man’s back that said “You were right”. You drove home, and welcomed the sight of your small apartment. A morbid part of you half expected someone to be waiting for you when you got back…someone who saw you watching…or perhaps even Lalo himself- perhaps you had become a loose end? But there was nothing. No one waiting for you…just your quiet 400 square feet. Your thoughts were whirling, and sleep seemed like a far away fantasy as you sat on your couch and stared at a crack in the paint.

You had indeed gotten mixed into something far bigger than you- there was no denying that anymore. However, now that you had very nearly completely solidified everything you had wondered, you knew there was no chance in backing out now. You could certainly play dumb for a while…but Lalo was so smart it scared you, and he would figure it out sooner or later.

So you kept digging.

Against your better judgement, you repeated your stakeout the following night. You sat there with a container of takeout, and watched closely. Just like the night before, the business ran, closed, was cleaned and shut up like clockwork.

Methodical.

Careful.

It was fascinating.

This time, however, that older man you had watched last time left in a car already parked there, and it looked far more civilian. You supposed it would draw suspicion if he constantly left work in a black suv. You almost laughed. It was all so ludicrous.

You felt like you were having a strange dream instead of your more constant nightmares. It was far more enjoyable but no less concerning. Where you usually woke up with a tight chest and heart beat so fast it hurt; sweat on your skin and hair sticky, you hope that perhaps if this was a dream that you might wake up and laugh at the idiocy of it all. How silly you were in it. But the more you sat there in your car, and as you drove home, and showered and ate and stared out your window…you started to realise that you were in no dream.

You really were being an idiot. A stupid, impulsive traumatised idiot.

Two days went by after your last visit to the restaurant. Two days of contemplation.

You knew why you were doing those things. You did. But you still found yourself asking yourself why. It was like you craved the anxiety or the adrenaline that came with doing something you know could end badly. What did that say about your mental state?

The file in your hand sat open as you stood behind the reception desk. You had been trying to focus on reading it for two minutes but your eyes repeatedly unfocused as your mind strayed. You just needed to check one of the client’s family member’s number, but you couldn’t seem to even pull yourself together enough for that. You blew the strand of hair that had come free and hung in front of your eyes for the fifth time; you had given up trying to move it.

You heard the main door open and you briefly looked up out of habit, but you took a second glance when you saw that familiar face walk through.

“Good morning Señor.” You said, brows raised in surprise as something stirred in your chest at the sight of his confident strides. This was the first time you had actually seen him enter- most of the time it was like he just materialised out of nowhere.

Lalo rounded the desk to where you were coming out and leaned against it. “Do you know that they’re charging 25¢ more for parking here? It’s criminal, man.” He shook his head.

His statement made a little smile escape you but you schooled it fast.

“I apologise, would you like a word with the owner?” You asked with a little sarcasm, “I’m sure you could talk some sense into him.”

He nodded as if weighing the option, then waved it off and looked around the foyer. “How’s my tio?” He asked calmly, “The old dog up yet?” Lalo looked back at you and flicked his gaze between your eyes. You couldn’t look away. Caught.

You finally tried to tuck the stay hair away again to no avail, and swallowed, “He’s in the activities room. He tipped two full cups of juice over this morning already to look at nurse’s asses when they bent over.” You said as straight faced as you could, though the image had made you giggle to yourself earlier.

Lalo chuckled, “Ese perro viejo no cambia...no harm done, eh?” He reached out and tucked the piece of your hair back behind your ear, then casually started to walk in the direction of the activity room and you took that at your cue to follow him. You had gone still when he had touched you, and you did your best to not let on how shocked you were by the gesture.

Lalo was speaking about something, but while you wanted to listen, you couldn’t quiet find it in you to pay attention. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interesting, or that you didn’t care…it was that you had a startling realisation. You had missed him. That was what you had felt when you saw him…it was happiness. The pleasure of seeing him again. Then when he had moved you hair, you realised how badly you had wanted to lean into his palm.

It startled you.

You scolded yourself. It was a a fantasy. That was it. You were just latching onto him because he spoke to you…hell you might have done the same to the greeter at a supermarket if he was nice enough. It was silly. Just like you.

You walked quietly until you came close to the door, then you stopped and let him go ahead. “Disfrute de su visita, señor.” You said, and the older man paused. Lalo turned to you, but you were already starting to walk past him.

“Gracias, Niña.” He called and you turned and nodded.

You didn’t turn around again, but Lalo watched you walk away for a moment. You didn’t need to see him to know it- his gaze burned. The older man stood there for a moment longer and flexed his hand. You were trouble.

That night, you sat in your car, parked on the street just out of the ring of the fluorescent street lamp light; eyes unfocused, medical mask in hand. It was 3am, and you hadn’t slept a wink. All you could think of was what you were very ready to do.

Another ten minutes went by before you refocused your vision and blinked. You looked across the street, and stared at the empty restaurant. It had been vacant for hours- the only movement you saw were the odd couple pulling into the parking lot for a quick drunken blowjob. Besides that, it was just you and the task you had given yourself.

Breaking and entering wasn’t a skill you appreciated having…but thanks to your ex, you did. He had taken to harvesting copper wires when money got tight…and he had always coerced you into coming with him despite your discomfort and anxiety. “You n me, baby, c’mon.” He would say as he dragged you out of the car. But you always had the sense that it was only you and him until you got caught. Asshole.

You sighed and threw your door open. You might now have known a lot, but you knew how to open a lock and mess with wiring without getting yourself fried in the process. That was enough.

With those old wire-cutters of yours in hand and mask on, you threw up your hood, and moved with the shadows. You rounded the restaurant, and snuck to the back where the staff entrance was locked up well. You half wished that the lock would have been enough to deter you…that you didn’t know how to pick a lock at all. But it didn’t, and you did.

You reached into your pocket, and took a couple small gadgets that you still had from the asshat, and began fiddling with the thick padlock. Your heart was thudding in your ears while you worked away.

What are you doing?

You screamed at yourself mentally, wishing you had an answer to your internal question but you came up with nothing. Only that you needed to do something.

Click

A sigh of relief huffed from your mouth when the lock popped open. Your shaking hands quickly slid it out of place, and you were about to push on the door when you wondered if they had a security alarm set in place. It was entirely possible. But you knew you had your hands covered in gloves and your car not too far if the cops were alerted.

You decided that even if there was an alarm you had enough time to run. With another deep breath, you tugged on the handle of the door, and pulled. To your good fortune, there was indeed no additional alarm.

Once the relief faded, and your focus returned, you made quick work of finding the electrical box. It was on the wall just down from the back door. You thanks god that it was small. You carefully opened it, and stared at the web of wires and switches that greeted you. You groaned a little, and looked at the pliers in your hand, then back at the wires. Your hands trembled more now than you recalled they used to. You supposed your body was forced not to show weakness in front of him…

You shook your head. “Focus.”

Just to be safe, you flicked off a few of the switches that looked to be connected to the wire sets you were eyeing as your target. The last thing you wanted was to get zapped and pass out. It wasn’t as if you were going to clip any…you didn’t want things to completely stop working. Just a few mistakes that would cause a big enough issue for the restaurant.

A half hour passed before you were finally content with the work your had done. Indeed, the web of wires before you now had exactly three faults that would slowly weaken and cause issues throughout the restaurant. Machines not working, and if left long enough they would likely cause a fire. It would mean a plethora of further issues too if an anonymous tip was called in regarding a poor and unsafe work environment.

With a deep breath and a few prayers, you flipped the power back on. The emergency light turned on and the box in front of you fizzed for a moment with the newly damaged wiring, but to your relief nothing exploded.

Your nerves started to come back now that you were finished. You flicked your eyes around and patted yourself down to ensure you left nothing behind, but just as you were doing so, you heard voices. A shot of fear surged through you, and your fight or flight kicked in. The latter won. You were out the back door within seconds and snapping the lock back into place as your mind went into hyperdrive. Your blood ran cold as you heard footsteps rounding the building; you breath felt too warm against your mask and your fingers barely managed to get the lock in place before you had to bolt. You hid in the shadows and crept along the side of the building until you could see your car and you ran. Your heart beat as fast at your legs were moving, and you didn’t stop until you were behind the wheel, and driving away. You felt like you were missing something, but you couldn’t stop to check even if you wanted to.

The sun had risen long ago, and you half wished you had to get ready for work…anything to get yourself busy and distracted from what you had done that night. It was a warm afternoon, and your hands were clammy as you sat on your couch with your phone sitting in front of you and the thick Albuquerque phonebook beside your thigh.

Just pick it up. Pick. It. Up.

Pick it up.

Pick-

You sighed and scratched your head before snatching the receiver up dialling the number you had your finger on in the phonebook.The ringing set your nerves alight as you waited. The monotonous tone lulled your for a moment, so when someone picked up, you almost jumped out of your skin. The person greeted you and introduced themselves with a name you didn’t hear. “How can I help you?” They asked.

You swallowed, but you had to do this unless you wanted the problem you had created to get even worse. “Hello, I-I’d like to make a complaint regarding unsafe working conditions? No, I’d like to remain anonymous please…Yes…yes that’s right. Huh? Oh, at Los Pollos Hermanos.”

“BELOVED LOS POLLOS HERMANOS UNCOVERED”

It was on the front page two days later. Evidentially a tip had been called in that there was severe malpractice in the restaurant, and after a health inspector had been sent…they had found exactly that. Issues with basic wiring- a truly unsafe working environment. Due to something so simple being so wrong, every other aspect of Los Pollos was thus being investigated, and the business had been shut down until further notice.

It was the talk of the nursing home when you came to work, and you forced a look of surprise as people groaned about it. However, while you did feel a small sense of guilt…you couldn’t hide the creeping satisfaction that began to settle in you. It had worked.

There was the tiniest secret smile on your face that got you a few strange looks, but you brushed it off with a “I just slept well.” A part of you was mortified that you had done such a thing…worrying that somehow they knew it was you and that police officers would pull up at any moment to arrest you…but it never happened.

You carried on your day like any other, and you began to seek out Hector in hopes that he had somehow heard what had happened…or perhaps that you could tell him yourself. Then as you walked, you began to feel worry creep into your thoughts.

What if I crossed a line?

What if I ruined one of their plans?

What if Lalo had wanted to be the one to take care of the restaurant?

You started to wring your hands as you walked out to the patio, but your head snapped to a table where you heard a laugh you knew very well. There was no coincidence that Lalo was sat there with his uncle that day- you knew that. And judging by the ringing of Hector’s bell, he was in a good mood.

You weren’t sure that you were ready to speak to him after what you had done…you were filled with so much uncertainty. If he didn’t like what had happened then he would likely track down who had done it and when he found you…that would be it.

You took a deep breath and went to walk back inside, but you were stopped short when a whistle caught your attention. You hated how fast you stopped and turned to it.

Sure enough, that man with the devious smile was staring at you openly with a friendly wave. You hoped to god that he was genuinely happy and not just luring you in. With one last internal whimper, you began across the patio and came to the two men.

“Buenas tardes Sr. Salamanca…Señor Lalo.” You nodded to them both, but you noticed that Lalo simply refused to take his glittering eyes off you- mirth swimming in them.

“Beautiful day, no?” He beamed mischievously, gesturing to the cloudless blue sky.

His charm was still very much in place, and you counted that as a good start, but you knew his mood could change on a dime.

You looked out at the saturated sky, “It is. You seem to be in an extra good mood today, Señor.” You said, then bent down to Hector to gently ask him if he was comfortable or needed water. He didn’t ding he bell, so you assumed Lalo had already done those.

“You ever see what a mouse can do in a house, niñita?” Her asked, still smiling.

You thought for a moment, “Y-yeah I have.” You said, recalling when mice got into the basement of your childhood home and ate through the Christmas decorations.

“They scurry around and get into everything but you never fucking see them. Fast, y’know? Chew through everything…pequeños bastardos destructivos…” he chuckled and shook his head, “I have a…very strong sense that there is a little mouse…right here in this city.” Lalo leaned forward on the table- his forearms flexing. “Causing some serious damage too.” His gaze was heavy and intense. You found yourself starting to feel afraid, but you did your best to keep it at bay.

“A- a mouse, señor?” You asked.

He hummed, “You know what the thing about mice is though, niñita?”

You tentatively shook your head.

“They make tremendous pets.” He grinned.

“I-I suppose you’re right.” You hoped your skin blanching wasn’t as visible as it felt.

Lalo chuckled and leaned back again, and you released a breath. “Someone made a fool out of some competition of ours…their tactics reminded me of a pequeño ratón, you know?”

“Oh?” You asked as casually as you could.

“Yep.” He popped the “p”, “There’s this restaurant which, admittedly is pretty good,” he began joyfully, “And you’ll never guess what happened to it.”

You shook your head and shifted a little.

“Tell me.” You said, hiding your shaking hands behind your back.

“Got shut down.” He said like it was a huge secret, “Yeah, something about a wiring issue. Morons,” he shook his head, “Crazy eh?”

“Yeah…who would’ve thought.” You agreed, mirroring his shock.

“Yeah. Bonkers.” His smile faded from his eyes, but remained on his lips. But there was no anger there, which you counted as a positive thing.

Silence settled over you and you started to squirm. “It’s a good thing though…isn’t it?” You couldn’t help yourself from asking. You needed to know what he thought…whether you should say your goodbyes to this world or if you could actually breathe.

Lalo smiled again. “Sí, algo muy bueno.”

Your ears started ringing as his words settled into your brain.

He wasn’t furious.

He wasn’t vengeful.

You nodded, trying not to show how relieved you were. “Well…it might be unfortunate for that business but I hope your family does well in the meantime.” You sighed as calmly as you could, and picked up an empty cup on the table- anything to hide your trembling hands. “It’s always good to see you Señor Lalo…until next time. Sr. Salamanca your nurse will come get you in twenty minutes alright? Please don’t try and make her deaf this time…” you added after having the memory of the woman yelling every time she spoke for three hours following Hector ringing his bell non stop for 15 minutes. Poor thing could barely hear.

“Adios, niñita.” Lalo murmured just loud enough for you to hear it, and you cast him one last look before you left. You were certain you would never get accustomed to his stare.

The remaining part of the day passed in a blur. Before you knew it the next shift of workers were signing in and you were signing out. The receptionist on that evening bid you goodnight, and you finally felt yourself fall back into your body.

You said a few goodbyes on your way out the door, and you absentmindedly played with your keys. You ran the day over in your head, and while you did feel relieved that Lalo wasn’t angry…you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. You swore you forgot something when you had …when you had gone to the restaurant. You hadn’t had the wits to look over everything when you got home, so you were hoping it was just some remaining guilt in you still festering.

There was a light breeze that night. It crept up your spine and tickled your cheeks. You breathed it in as you climbed into your car, and you let yourself relax a little as you pulled out and drove home.

Your building came into view but just when you were climbing out, a body came right up in front of you- caging you between your door and the sidewalk.

“Hola pequeña!”

You stared up, and felt your cheeks warm at the proximity to the older man - his grey streak prominent in the golden setting sun. You felt your skin prickle with goosebumps and your fingers tingled as you fought to find something to say.

You forced a small smile despite how flustered you were, “H-hello Señor.” You said softly.

“Just the person I was looking for. How lucky am I?” He smiled- one arm over the open door and the other on the roof. You were stuck.

“Oh I- r-really?” You hated that you couldn’t stop tripping over your words.

His grin only deepened, “Yeah, you know…almost as lucky as I was when a little mouse decided to meddle with that restaurant, hm?”

You stared at him, not knowing what else to do or say. Your anxiety began to creep back as you started to think that the joy he had shown in front of Hector was just an act after all.

“If you say so Señor… I hope no one was hurt.” You managed to say as his warmth and scent radiated into the air around you.

He laughed and shook his head. “Nah not this time…but I will say that whoever did it was a little nervous I think.” He said as if it was a conspiracy, tilting his head just so.

“Oh?” You asked. Not your most genious of replies but your brain was starting to turn into white noise.

Lalo nodded, and you could tell he was feigning concern; his mouth was in a frown but his eyes were filled with amusement. He was playing with you. “Yeah they left their shitty wire-cutters behind.” The older man reached into his back pocket, and you felt yourself blanch.

“I went by there you know…the day after to give my condolences on the unfortunate findings…And I just so happened to find these. Such an amazing coincidence too.” He smiled, wagging the cutters at you as he spoke.

You continued to stare, as if you moving would cause him to blow your head off; you still couldn’t tell if he was pleased by what happened, and each passing moment didn’t seem to help clarify anything.

“Coincidence?” You asked a little breathlessly.

He nodded brightly.

“Yeah, I mean don’t you have a busted pair like these in your car?” Lalo pointed the metal at your vehicle.

He knows he knows he knows he knows-

“I-I I did…been donating some things though I think they were in the last l-load I did. Haven’t seen them for weeks.” You felt your brain working overtime as you fought to find something to convince him with; you were fine with him not knowing it was you even if he was happy about it…but you weren’t leaping at the chance of telling him that it was you and him not being pleased.

But then, Lalo tsked and leaned away, “Too bad…here I was thinking I might owe you a favour. Guess not.” He shrugged and tossed them into the window you now saw was open. You didn’t remember opening it, and you realised he must have opened it when you were working to check if your wire-cutters were missing.

Then you felt your heart sink. He knew you were lying.

You sucked in a breath and shrugged.

“Even i-if it was me…you wouldn’t owe me anything.” You said, holding your ground as he towered over you.

His brows rose comically.

“No? Some say a favour from a Salamanca is as good as gold.” He rumbled. His breath fanned across your cheeks and he readjusted his hand by your head. You felt yourself almost gravitate towards it.

You nodded and tried to ignore how you couldn’t feel your fingers.

“I’m sure you’re right, señor…” you replied, “Tu tío no me odia y has sido generoso…that’s enough for me.”You watched that mirth return. An morbid amusement.

You watched something in his head click ad he pieced things together in two seconds.

“Ah, ella ha estado aprendiendo... Una chica muy lista.” He winked and wagged a finger at you as he stepped away from you and onto the street.

You might not have gotten every word…but you knew there was a little bit of pride in what he said. Like he was amused by you learning and speaking his native tongue.

“My apologies for interrupting your evening. Adiós!” He was out of your space and walking to his Monte Carlo that you somehow missed when you pulled in.

“G-goodnight, Señor.” You watched him walk. There was a certain carefree confidence to the way his arms hung by his sides. You wondered what that was like.

He drove away with a two fingered salute, and you returned the gesture with a little wave. There was a surge of turmoil coursing through you as you pried yourself away from the sidewalk. On one hand, you hoped against hope that he wasn’t buttering you up only to turn around and end your existence…and the other part of you was trying to stop the first part of you from being so naive.

You strode into your apartment like you had soggy socks- slowly and uneasily. You sat on your couch and stared at the wall.

You fell asleep that night just like every other- suddenly and not knowing that you were being watched. Not that you would ever notice. Hector’s men might now have been as intelligent and inconspicuous as Lalo’s own back home, but they did the job. Every night like clock work; they followed you home, watched your window, and stayed quiet about it. It had been months now. At first it had just been to see if you were an informant or a plant…but after a few weeks, some uneventful phone taps and 24 hour shifts later, it was clear that you were just…alone.

Lalo knew your routine better than you did. Knew that you often sat for stretches of time on your bed or couch upon getting in the door…usually not even doing anything. He knew that you only ordered a full meal from a restaurant once every two weeks. He knew that you had nightmares too- sudden crying or screaming in the night had spooked the men stationed outside your window at first…but after a few nights they got used to it. He could still remember his mother having them when he was a boy and his father would disappear for days…her cries from her room. He knew the sound all too well.

You weren’t a threat. Not really. Lalo was still trying to work out how you had managed to get under Hector’s skin…but he had a feeling that your respect for him gave him a familial sense about you. Like a niece. No…no Lalo wouldn’t get rid of you any time soon, not while you still pleased his Tio, and now apparently looked out for the cartel.

When the men had told Lalo about your late night escapade, he had indeed paid a visit to Los Pollos Hermanos…and he admittedly hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time when he found those old shitty wire cutters of yours. He knew you had spirit but he had to admit that he hadn’t expected that of you.

You were this skittish little thing , but the older man couldn’t help but feel entertained at your antics. You were juvenile and fearless despite your anxious nature. So eager to prove something.

So they watched you.

The following few nights after your impulsive crime, the men had taken to start making little bets. Would you do something else crazy? Was it a one time thing? They kept busy.

You were dull, but you were cute, and they didn’t mind.

They knew you never had visitors, so a week later, when they saw a taxi pull up, and a man get out in front of your building they didn’t perk up. They watched him enter, and lazily observed him; it wasn’t until they noticed how he loitered outside the front door until someone left and he caught the door that they looked at him a little closer.

The man disappeared inside, and they were begining to grow bored of waiting to see if anything if happened until your apartment light turned on.

They watched what they could see of you move through your apartment. One of the men had his binoculars in hand, pressed to his eyes to see more, but all he could make out was your door being flung open, and your home going black.

That was enough for them.

One of the men pulled out his phone, and pressed a speed dial, and waited as it rang.

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

[slamminslamminmcgill]

random thoughts... saul fingering you while hes on call with someone ... placing his hand tightly over your mouth to shut you up ... dhdjhejshrntg..f..g.. getting bent over that damn desk and him taking his tie off to choke you with it ...

>:333

combining w/ these

anatomical terms:

"We're sorry we missed you! Saul Goodman and Associates is out to lunch. Leave your name and phone number at the tone, and we will return your call before the end of the business day. Thank you!"

If anyone were to contact the office between 1-2PM, Monday-Friday, that's the message they would be greeted with. Guaranteed. That was when Saul took his lunch break. During that time, he'd eat out and get whatever he was craving: burgers, Mexican, Thai, you. That last one was his favorite.

You were laying down flat against his desk, legs dangling over the edge, with Saul nestled between them as he ate you out. Your hand grasped at strands of his thinning hair and guided his movements. He appreciated the help, but he didn't need it. He knew what he was doing, and what he was doing was a great job.

Hs firm hands and thin lips brought you up to the precipice of an orgasm. You begged for release in the soundproof office. "Saul... Saul, please... so... so close... God, fuck, please... Please!"

Surprisingly, the next thing you heard was not your own voice shrieking in ecstasy, but that of a telephone screeching for attention. You both froze in place, your climax shot down and reduced to rubble.

Saul pulled off of you and groaned, his mouth quite literally dripping wet. "Son of a bitch..." He stood up, brushed himself off, and leaned over you to hit the intercom button. "Francesca! What time is it?"

A flat, no-nonsense voice came through the other side. "2:04" was all it had to say.

"Oops! Sorry, lost track of time there. Thanks HT!"

"Don't call me tha-"

Click.

Saul silenced her dissent by releasing the button. He sat back in his chair and grabbed the ringing phone, one of many piled up in his drawer. Holding the cell in one hand, he beckoned you over and slapped his thigh with the other. A silent cue for you to take your seat.

You slid off the desk and propped yourself on his lap. He flipped the phone open and finagled it between his shoulder and his ear to keep both of his hands free. "Thank you for calling Saul Goodman! What can I do for ya?" He answered with perfect poise and nonchalance as he wrapped his arms around you and groped your chest.

The voice on the other end was frantic, low, and gravelly. You didn't hear specific words, just tone. Saul rolled his eyes as it spoke, lazily dragging one of his hands lower and lower, until it rested between your legs. "I see... That sounds very troubling." He answered with mock sympathy as he pressed his fingers inside you again.

You threw your head back and moaned, probably for a fraction of a second before Saul slapped his hand over your mouth. "Quiet. You just sit back, relax, and let me handle this, okay? I don't need your input."

The party on the other line must have heard something, because Saul's response was more anxious. "Oh! Nothing, nothing, don't worry. Now, let me check my schedule and I'll see where I can fit you in." He twisted and turned his fingers inside you, stretching you out, probably making sure you could fit him in. "Hm... looks like it's gonna be a tight squeeze..." He emphasized those words by pushing up into your g-spot and making your legs tremble, "...buuut I can get you in tomorrow at 4. Would that work for you, Walt?"

His voice stopped for a moment to let "Walt" speak; his fingers didn't do the same. Regardless of who "Walt" was and what he needed, it wasn't as important as this. At least, to you two it wasn't. "Walt" was shouting into the phone like he might burst a blood vessel.

Saul replied incredulously at the mysterious figure's behavior. "What?! Absolutely not! I have a waiting room packed full of clients who need to see me just as much as you do! I'm not your little callboy!" He leaned in close to whisper in your ear. "You on the other hand..."

He turned his attention back to the petulant voice shouting in his ear. "Y'know what? I'm done talking about this. Mr. White, I'll see you at 4PM tomorrow and not a moment sooner." He took his hand off your mouth to snap the flip phone shut.

"Sorry about that, sweetheart, now..." He pumped his fingers even faster, priming you for another release. "Let's get back to the task at hand."

[bowieandqueen11]

Jesse Pinkman Being Jealous Would Include...

Request: omg so glad you’re writing for breaking bad rn cause i literally just started watching it and i’m obsessed 😭 could you do jealous jesse pinkman please? (hcs or a fic whatever you want)

Oh my gosh yay I'm really glad you started watching it!! If you haven't already you 100% have to watch Better Call Saul afterwards it's one of my favourite shows of all time! :)

Warning: spoilers for later seasons of the show! Mentions of drugs, mentions of drinking/alcohol, mentions of burn injuries, light swearing, mentions of trauma!

(I do not own Breaking Bad or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @tilldeathdousart.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Baby boy, baby boy. meow meow cat man. its so hard writing you as jealous because i feel if anyone started flirting with your s/o you would just break down crying and honestly same we love an in touch with his emotions king loml honestly

Jesse has always been the jealous type. Hot headed. Easily wound up by bullies ten times his size and a thousand times more ferocious and cutthroat than he had ever tried to be. Almost as easily as he had slipped into that easy routine of being ass over heels, devastatingly in love with you. The kind where every night, he tosses and turns in his mildew spelling bed, plagued by thoughts of doing nothing all day but sloppily kissing your lips between blunts. The kind where he has to stare up at the sky after he's been caught staring, until his retinas burn the sunlight into the back of his skull, yet the pain is nowhere near as cataclysmic as the hurricane your smile brings to his heart.

He had far too many years to temper it, to try and smother his love, and yet over time he seemed to get worse and worse and worse at stopping it from choking at his throat. He wasn't so bad during high school: sure, you found him a little odd, the way he would brag to his friends in the corridor about how he'd never 'studied a day in my life, man!', and yet in Chemistry he would be chewing the edge of his pen and scribbling furiously down on his paper during the end of term quiz.

He was terrible at tempering it, and you were terrible at seeing it.

Little did you know, that all the words he scratched down with his shaking hand were either complete guesses, or absolute gibberish. He had no idea what the paper was even supposed to be on, but you were sitting beside him, and so he wanted to look as smart in front of you as he possibly could. Bless his heart, to everyone else he was so obvious: Mr White would just peer over his shoulder and shake his head, his mouth in a lined frown as he watched Jesse peer like a meerkat over the side of the desk to stare at you from behind his slipping down beanie.

Some of his friends, his 'gang' as he liked to call them, were snickering from a couple of benches behind at the way he was trying to look clever by placing his fist under his chin, but his elbow kept slipping off the edge thanks to his baggy hoody. Even Justin Treller, the guy sitting to your right, and the kid Jesse was getting more and more annoyed with every time he leant over to whisper something in your ear, was evidently enjoying the way the tips of Jesse's ears were beginning to burn with embarrassment.

Eventually, when you began giggling at the things Justin was leering further and further towards you to murmur, Jesse began to snap. That's when he began doing stupid shit to make you laugh, like plugging the tube in and flicking his hand through the Bunsen Burner flame to try and impress you with his pain tolerance. When Jesse inevitably ended up being sent to the nurse's office for such a dumbass idea, he was wincing so harshly at the pain that he nearly tore through his bottom lip, leaving a nice scar. You volunteered to bring him down, spending half of your lunch period taking care of him.

He sat caved in on himself, trying to make himself as small a target as possible on one of the fold out chairs. He was obviously embarrassed, by the way his voice kept cracking each time you tightened some of the new dressing over his fingers. Mainly he was talking to try and distract you from the way his hands were shaking, so desperate to reach out and brush over your cheek that he nearly sobs with the effort. He also doesn't want you to notice how pathetic he looks: how he so subconsciously prepares himself for the mental barrage from his mother, or the physical threats from the people he deals with out in the streets, that he looks like a meek kitten sitting there with his palms down on his knobbly kneecaps.

He had known then, of course. He had known, as you pressed your lips chastely against the back of his sore knuckles, and giggled at the way his cheeks immediately flushed like a blooming snapdragon, that you would always be the love of his life. The only thing, behind the emotional neglect, the gossip, the drugs, the constant damn pressure, that he truly had chosen to care about. Which is why, after he bought his parents house and asked if you'd want to live in it, free of rent, he was shocked that you said yes.

Good things don't usually happen to this boy. And seeing how you were the best of all, he had to swallow his heart and just smile at your words, terrified he was going to ruin you.

I mean, living there at first had been easy enough. You had been round (or smuggled in by Jesse) so many times since that day in the nurse's office, that it felt like a second home to you. His parents, while they had still been speaking to Jesse, had absolutely adored you. They would always be teasing their son during family dinners about how he had been saving up doing his *wink wink* 'paper rounds' late at night, just so he could save up for the big wedding he was planning. Blushing ferociously, Jesse would duck his head down until his forehead banged against the tablecloth, begging his mom with that tired drawl to 'please... just stop'.

Somehow, somehow you just... never saw it. Perhaps you were laughing too much at the way Jesse's father was pretending to elbow his son to notice. Maybe, you were trying to cover your own eyes in mortification. I'm not sure, but I do know that you never seemed to notice the gut-wrenching look of pure hope Jesse would throw your way, once he had mustered the strength to peek his head up again.

While he shook his head and bit at the corner of his fingernail, while he poked and prodded at his escaping garden peas, while he took an awkward sip of his water and pretended to glance around the table. He was always looking your way, as if you had tied his heart to a string, his compass pointing him north, directing him back to his true home. His eyes would just linger on you like a listless man possessed from between the prongs of his fork, stabbing harshly at the plate in time with his thudding heart.

His heart sure was beating now. So ferociously, he thought it was about to splinter and explode out of his chest, implanting the chards everywhere until they were all that was left in memory of him. He knew you were getting sick of the constant parties. Of him being dazed 24/7. Of not knowing why he lashed out all the time. He knew it wasn't fair, but every time he closed his eyes he just saw Gale's pleading eyes beginning to burn itself into the safe memories he kept in the back of his head. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't breathe from all the sobbing. He couldn't even think in peace. So he just bit the cap off another beer bottle and fell down heavily on the edge of his brand new thousand dollar sofa, imprisoning himself in self-isolation despite being lost amidst a sea of people.

It was right at that moment you decided to try and brave down the stairs, having to hold onto the bannister for dear life as you jumped down each step, the bass vibrating through the walls until they shook. As you peered over mountains of baggie hoodies and tripped over lumps of passed out people on the floor in your effort to try and find Jesse, you accidentally bumped into the back of one of Skinny Pete's friends. You apologised as he turned around, which would have been fine if he hadn't taken one look at you and decided you were his main entertainment for the night. The smell of stale weed and lukewarm beer radiated off his sour breath as he leant down to rasp against the shell of your ear, sending a chill rolling down your back. You tried to compress your shoulders and squeeze past him, but the guy would not stop trying to grab onto your waist and pull you back, staring very blatantly down at your chest.

You knew Jesse had been shoved into the deep end of some shady business recently, but the way he had been acting over the last while had been frightening you. So despondent. So careless. To come home every day and find him almost completely blazed out of his mind on the floor, seemingly not recognising you as he failed to respond to your greeting. Not realising that as soon as you wandered into the kitchen to put the groceries away, those desperate, love strung eyes were following your heels. He nearly cried out for you, voice hoarse and heavy in the back of his throat.

If he had mustered the energy, he would have gotten onto his hands and knees and crawled like a baby on the floor to follow after you. The way you would beg him at 2 a.m. to turn down the music, and he would just grab at your hands and try to get you to join in his terrible on the spot jump-dancing. You never discerned how heartbroken he seemed to be when you jolted back from him as if shot; his bottom lip would quiver and he would sink to his knees when your bedroom door finally slammed shut. 

He couldn't take it. He couldn't take it anymore. First it had been his parents. Then the drugs. Then Mr. White, Gus, Gale, Mike, Saul, the pressure just kept building up and up and up and he didn't know how to escape it. Too cowardly to run away, just as he had always been resigned into believing you could never love him back. Too submissive. Too easily used. And now, now there was barely anything left of him. Sometimes, sometimes that scared kid would try to crawl out of his throat when he was alone at night, but he would just choke on his tears in the darkness until he had drowned him again.

So what does he do? Gets off his face drunk, and throws another mind numbingly monotonous party until the walls start spinning and he doesn't even know who's coming through those doors anymore. Hell, he still half expects his mother to come busting through, chiding him for having drugs in the house. For having you in the house, with such company present. For being a coward.

Now he had just brought more trouble on himself. If the company he now decided to keep didn't get his hands off you in approximately ten seconds, you were going to knock him on his ass in front of all his little buddies.

Thankfully, Jesse seemed to have a sixth sense as to when you were in trouble, and he had been steadily keeping his beady eyes on you ever since you reached the top step. Before you could shove the guy back, Jesse's already doing it for you. As soon as he’s by your side you can tell he’s wound up: not by the way he comes striding over, shouting over the beat and lowering his head as if he’s about to headbutt the guy. Not from the way his hand flies in his face, or the swears, the long string of increasingly ridiculous ‘bitch’ related insults he calls him, but from the way he looks so, so tired. He looks on the verge of tears, his eyes bloodshot as he brushes gently past you to start shoving the guy out the front door, yelling above the music to shepherd everyone else out as well.

'Jesse... seriously, you need to tell me what's going on, right now.'

When the door finally slams shut, you know him well enough that the best thing to do is just let his head cool down for a minute. When he was younger, that used to involve ringing you up whenever his parents had threatened to kick him out again; you would come clambering over the picket fencing lining his immaculately manicured side-yard to see him sitting on the edge of his windowsill, smoke rings blowing out the side of his mouth as he waited in the dark for you to arrive. His hand would shake as he hefted you up from the piping by his bedroom wall, awkwardly landing you down half on his feet as he would just stay beside you all night. He would speak from time to time, asking you about what you wanted to do once you managed to escape from this dump ass town. But mainly, he just leaned his head back and listened to your voice, gazing up at the faraway stars as if it were the only place he could possibly be truly free.

But now, he was far worse off than you ever could have imagined. He hunched over, as if he had a spiked collar weighted around his neck as he lumbered past you, crawling down onto the floor. He drew his knees up to his chest as he sat back against his brand new surround sound speaker, ducking his head into the gap and clawing at the back of his neck until you worried he was about to draw blood.

It was horrifying, hearing how he gasped between retching sobs as you sunk down on the floor next to him.

You tentatively reached out to place a hand on his back, kicking an empty pizza box out of the way with your foot so you could sit with the side of your thigh touching his. As soon as you made contact, he leapt at you like a rabid dog, clawing and clenching and biting his teeth into his shirt as he fell onto your chest.

‘Please. Please don’t leave me’, he gasped out between heaving cries, looking up at you with eyes so dejected, it were as if someone had stifled out the blinding stars once in them with dark clouds. Bits of saliva stuck between his teeth as he screwed his eyes shut once again and began bawling even harder, falling like a broken bird as you held the back of his head and guided it down to rest just above your breast bone.

‘I love you’, he starts sobbing, fists bunching up the material at the back of your shirt. It was you. It always has been. And if you walked out that door with the rest of them, he had nothing left. He would willingly roll over, and let himself just rot away. 

You sure as hell saw it now.

Eventually, after you rock him back and forth against the floorboards for a while and just cradle him in a way he’s never experienced during his years on earth, he becomes more placid against you. It helps that at some point, you had absentmindedly begun to trace the silvery wisp of an outline that had been left on his bottom lip all those years ago, your pointer finger glancing back and forth as it quivered. He was almost entirely curled against you now, pretending to be asleep so you wouldn’t stop, but his breath froze when he heard you whisper ‘I love you too’ against the top of his hair.

He’ll feel really sheepish the next day when he finally wakes up, peering round the corner with his hand behind his head when he spots you trying to straighten out the crick in your neck after a night spent on the floor. He’ll come apologizing with his go to breakfast: a childhood favourite of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup; they were the kind his mom would make if she were in a good mood at the weekends. When he would sit at the table the morning after you slept over, watching stupid cartoons his brother had put on the small television, grinning to himself as some dripped down his chin. It had been the happiest he had been in his life.

Although he still has that boyish, soulful smile on his face as he sits criss-cross down beside you, you can tell that he’s still plagued by how wet his eyes are: how heavily he’s blinking.

‘I really do love you, you know that right?’, you whisper, taking the plate from him.

‘Yeah, I do.’

Suddenly your fork goes crashing to the floor, forgotten about as you lean forward to kiss him, nearly surprising the heck out of him as his teeth clash against yours. He’s quick to reach up and tenderly, oh god, so gently cradle the side of your cheeks, but that’s soon abandoned as he readily allows you to guide him until his back is against the floorboards. You clamber over until you’re almost straddling him, beginning to smile yourself as you feel him grin against your top lip, the soft peals of his giggles breaking out against the surface of your tongue as you dip down against him.

And suddenly, his life seemed like it was worth fighting for again. He was going to get out of this. He was going to escape. He was going to win. Not for himself, but for you.

[devilishcupid]

8 O'CLOCK | Gustavo Fring

☆ premise: you and gus confront each other after you call the cops on his dealers.

☆ pairing: gustavo fring x gn!spouse!reader

☆ warnings: angst, angry gus & reader, possessive!gus mention (sorta? idk)

☆ a/n: been thinking about that plot point where jesse found out that gus' men used a kid to deal and i just couldn't resist a "what if" scenario with gus' spouse.

7:50

Knowing your husband's line of work, you dreaded the day he might never come home. But tonight, this was the first time you wished he wasn't.

A part of you felt like an idiot. You knew Gus had eyes and ears on you 24/7. He had the latest security systems in place at home. He had Mike following you around when he wasn't doing cartel-related work. He made sure he knew your every move. So, of course, you knew he had your phone bugged.

7:55

But you weren't going to keep quiet. When you found out he was more than just a restaurant chain owner, you made him promise one thing—no children. He swore he had never and will never use children for his business. And you believed him.

You could've gone to the nearest phone booth. But you didn't. You called 911 on your phone. You wanted him to know—no, you needed him to know you did it.

8:00

On time, as always. You heard your husband's car pull up on the driveway just as you finished setting up the table for dinner. You approached the entryway, breath hitching as you wondered what he'll do. You knew not to mistake his calm demeanor for gentleness.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door finally opened. You expected Gus to come in and give you a look that could kill. You didn't expect him to smile and pull you in an embrace with one arm.

"How are you?" Gus asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"I—I'm fine," you stammered, confused by his demeanor.

"Good. I'll go freshen up, then I'll join you for dinner."

You watched in amazement as he headed for the bedroom. How was he acting as if nothing was wrong?

The night went on the way they usually did. The two of you ate the dinner you made while talking about the day you both had—minus the cartel business and the 911 call, of course. Afterwards, you washed the dishes while he cleaned up the table and put the leftovers in the fridge.

After cleaning the last of the utensils and leaving them on the rack to dry, you turned around to find Gus staring at you. Gone was the warmth he showed you tonight, replaced by a coldness that not even you had seen before.

"Why did you do it?"

When you didn't answer, he approached you until he had you pressed in between his body and the sink.

"I asked you a question—why did you do it?"

"You know why." You responded, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat.

His jaw clenched, and you could hear a hint of frustration in his voice as he said, "I didn't know they were using children."

Your lips formed a thin line. You didn't believe a word of it. For a man who was three steps ahead of everyone else, how could he not know?

"You keep tabs on your partner, but you don't keep tabs on your own men. You expect me to believe that?" You spat as you glared at him.

You started to walk away, not before Gus wrapped his hand around your forearm and pulled you back against the counter. You tried to pull your hand away from his grasp, but his fingers tightly gripped your wrist, nails digging into your skin.

"Do you truly believe I would deliberately use children in my operations?" He growled, anger dripping in every word. "You think that lowly of me?"

"That's the problem, Gustavo—I don't know!" You snapped, your voice so loud the neighbors would've heard you if it weren't for the soundproofing measures placed in your home. "I have no idea what happens in your line of work. I rely on your word because I trusted you. I thought you would never lie to me. But today, you did. Now I wonder what else you've been lying to me about."

He closed his eyes, his hand loosening its grip on your arm. After a few moments, Gus looked at you again. "You may not believe me, but it's the truth. I didn't know. But as soon as I found out, I dealt with the problem immediately. No more children, I made sure of it. This I promise you."

Finally letting go of your arm, he stepped back and started walking away from you. Before he could disappear into his office, you called out his name. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to face you.

"How did you deal with it?"

"Do you need to know?"

[therealvinelle]

Now you have once again been held at gunpoint by a Tumblr fan who loves you deep down. If you were forced to have dinner and stay for a night with a *main character* from Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul, then who would you rather be with? Which would be the least ideal for this "romantic" night? (The qualified characters as the answer: Walt, Skyler, Jesse, Walt Jr., Hank, Marie, Todd, Lydia, Jimmy/Saul, Mike, Kim, Nacho, Howard, Gus, Chuck, and Lalo)

Thank you again if this question is absurd.

Kim, Howard, Marie, Hank, in that order (Walt Jr. is off the list on account of being a teenager in the show, I am in my mid-twenties). None of them would kill me nor is being in their presence likely to make the wrong people take an interest in me.

Chuck, Skyler, Mike, and Nacho are not immediate lethal choices, but I still wouldn't choose any of them because Chuck is dreadful, Skyler would complain (rightfully) about her husband, Mike would be profoundly unimpressed by my choice of restaurant and wish he was hanging out with his granddaughter instead, and Nacho might try to keep his double lives separate but someone he knows would absolutely burst into the venue mid-meal and now I know things I shouldn't. Gus... technically is on this list, if I'm not a threat to him, if I don't know anything, then he is competent enough to ensure no one knows I exist either, but the man is clearly gay and also deeply terrifying, I'd spend our date hyperventilating in the bathroom.

As for the worst options:

Todd is the absolute worst option I could go with, I would wind up in a torture dungeon. Specifically, Todd is a very creepy gentleman as he escorts me out to my car (which I try to decline), then I'm chloroformed and I wake up handcuffed to a radiator with Todd smiling down at me. Jimmy is either giving me the Saul Goodman routine and I have a terrible time, or he is on this date because he misses Kim in which case I still have a terrible time. Lydia is only on this date because she wants Mike to think she's a lesbian, so that he won't hate crime the LGBT community by killing a lesbian woman and I spend the date being offered an increasing sum of money to make out with her publicly. I feel uncomfortable and decline, she storms out (hoping this now looks like a lovers' quarrel).

Walt is on this date because he wants to prove he's a big fish, he's Heisenberg, he's a very impressive man, he can get anything he wants, and that includes younger Scandinavian women. I talk about my cats and show him my Ao3 profile to fend him off, only his ego is bruised once he realizes the younger woman is a fucking loser. He leaves the restaurant in an impotent rage, then follows me home and shoots me dead for humiliating him like this.

[ficstogo]

An Afterthought (Jesse Pinkman x Fem Reader)

Pairing: Jesse Pinkman x Fem Reader

Summary: Jesse comes to see you after a falling out in hopes of fixing things.

Word Count: 2613

Warnings: Language, Angst

A/N: I am not out of hiatus. This was just something that I had the energy and attention span to do in one sitting. I personally don’t think that this is the best written since it has been a long while but I’ve been watching Breaking Bad and there weren't many fics out there for it especially with Jesse. I’ve started season 5 which is when this fic takes place.

You weren't expecting anyone to come by and see you today, so you were surprised when you heard a knock on your door. As soon as you opened it, you definitely weren't expecting to see Jesse Pinkman standing there either with a shaved head and a look of anxiety written on his face.

You really didn't know what to do. You stood there shocked that it was even him standing there. “U-uh, hey? Um, what are you doing here?” You didn’t even try to hide the confusion in your voice as your face contorted to express it as well. You held onto the door, ready to shut it on him at any point.

He stood there with his mouth slightly open ready to say whatever it is he wanted to say but somehow couldn't get it out of him. “I, uh…” Jesse squeezes his eyes in frustration, trying to figure out what to say. “Can I come in? There's something I need to talk to you about.”

“I don't’ think that's a-” You were stopped as you heard someone behind you speak.

“Y/N, who’s at the door?'' Soon enough, there stood a man behind you. Jesse being surprised at this new guest looks between the both of you, not believing what he's seeing. The door opens wider and a hand slides around your waist. He looks at you and then at Jesse giving him a friendly smile.

“Uh, Derek, this is uh-”

“Jesse.”he responds as he stands up straighter and stuffing his hands in his pockets while he  gives Derek a slight smirk. A way for Jesse to give off a tough exterior to this stranger.

“He’s a friend from high school.” you respond nervously. Never in your life did you think you would be put in this kind of situation. It was nerve wracking and yet you know you shouldn't be this nervous but knowing what Jesse does and the kind of man Derek is, you didn't want these two to mix with each other. It was like oil and water or, if things escalated if Derek were to find out Jesse cooked, water on hot oil. But you weren't going to let that happen. You would make sure of it.

“Oh! Nice to meet you!” He pushes his hand out for Jesse to shake and for a brief moment, Jesse thought about not shaking his hand but gives him a slight grip in the awkward handshake. “I’m, uh, Derek. Y/N’s boyfriend.”

“Right.”

Derek clears his throat before he goes on “Would you like to come in? I’m guessing you're wanting to play catch up with Y/N? High school is a long time ago.” 

“Oh, no it’s ok-”

“Yeah i’d love to. Thanks, man.” You became frustrated now, not wanting Jesse to be here at all. You didn't want to deal with whatever it is he came here for. 

Jesse entered as he stood by the door, cautiously taking a look at his surroundings as he really didn't know what to do in this situation. From what he could see, you really set yourself up in the best way. “I wish I could stay and stick around for the fun but I’m needed back at the office but please! Make yourself at home! A friend of Y/N’s is a friend of mine!” Jesse only nodded to him in response but Derek turns to you giving you a peck on the lips as you nervously reciprocated before he heads out while you shut the door behind him. 

“Nice guy.” Jesse says, trying to make small talk.

“What do you want, Jesse?” You say making it known that you're not happy with him being here, turning around to finally face him.

“Yo, chill! I just wanted to talk.” You cross your arms as you wait for whatever it is that he wanted to say. He notices you waiting and swallows nervously as he looks down and then back at you.

“I’m…a dick. I was an asshole for all that shit I said to you the last time we saw each other. I just…I didn’t know what to say or what to do and when you said that you loved me, I…I just didn't know what to do.” You inhaled deeply as you looked down, too nervous to look at him. 

“And I know you didn’t want to throw that at me after what happened with Jane but…I get it.” Jesse suddenly feels a bit of courage within and takes a few steps towards you, not wanting to be apart from you any longer.

“You are the most important person in my life and it was hell to not have you around, making sure i was alright, making sure i ate or didnt o’d or gotten myself killed by the wrong person or that i had someone to talk to because it gets lonely way more often than I'd like to admit.” he reaches for your hand to hold wanting to make sure that you knew he means every word he says. “Or even just being around when I didn't feel like talking at all.”

“You always stuck by me. I was a loser all throughout high school and yet you still wanted to be around me and even after you got back from college, you still thought about me even when I didn't deserve it.”

“I don't mean anything that I said to you last time and I hate myself for it because you didn’t deserve any of it. And I really thought about things, yo. Like, really thought about things.”

You finally look at his pretty eyes. The ones you couldn't get over. They were too pretty to not gush about in your room late at night as you wondered when those bright icy eyes would ever look at you as something precious. “Y/N I…I love you and I’m stupid for not realizing it sooner.” You both stood there in silence for a moment. You looked back down as you tried to gather your thoughts.

“You…Love me?” You questioned while Jesse slowly grows a smile on his face, nodding his head as he responds back happily.

“Then what happened between you and Andrea?” Quickly Jesse’s face dropped while you dropped his hand. 

“What?”

“What happened with Andrea?”

“How'd you know about Andrea?” You gave him a knowing look not believing the fact that Jesse could really be this dumb sometimes.

“Badger and Skinny Pete are my friends too, remember?”

Jesse looks down once more as he shakes his head at his stupidity. Of course Badger and Skinny Pete would've told you. Like you said, they were your friends too. He looks back up at you prepared with his answer. “I, uh, broke up with her.”

“How long ago was that?” 

There was a slight silence as he had to think and hesitate on his answer. “Couple weeks now.” He nods slowly.

“And I'm sure it's not because you suddenly thought that you couldn’t bear to not have me in your life anymore, right?” You said with certainty, your heart clenching as you crossed your arms again.

Jesse only gave you a confused look. “What are you talking about, yo? Of course I couldn't stand you not being around!”

“Then why didn't you come to me sooner? Even if as a friend? Why didn't you make your apologies sooner? Why did it have to be after you broke up with her to even look in my direction?” You paused. “No, why did you break up with Andrea? Really.”

Jesse hesitates on what to say. If he were honest, he really didn't know what that had to do with anything at all. He was here now. He's saying that he loves you. Why weren't you ecstatic about it like he thought you would? “Because it's definitely not because of me.”

‘I…” he gave out a sigh as he prepared himself to tell you why. “Andrea doesnt know what I do, you know, like, as a job…And I didn’t want to tell her and get her involved.” You dropped your arms as you turned away from him with a forced knowing smile. You knew it. It never was about you. It never is.

“So, what? You thought that because you didn't have a girlfriend anymore and because I already know what you do that it’d be easier to just come to me knowing how I felt about you? Is that what you're getting at?”

“What? No! That's not it!” Jesse exasperates. How could you say something like that? Why would you question his feelings for you?

“No, that's totally it. You wanted to spare here from whatever bullshit and danger that's been going on that you broke up with her to keep her safe? So, what? My safety doesn't matter? It's just easier this way. Save her but screw me, right?” Your voice was firm and got louder to the point that you were almost about to yell. You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe how much lower Jesse could get that he would use your feelings against you whether he knew it or not.

“No! That's not it at all! I love you! I love you! Why the hell is that so hard to believe?!” Jesse gets closer to you trying to reach for your hands again but you move away not wanting to be near him. You were fed up. This was actual bullshit and as always, he didn't understand why. 

You two went quiet for a minute. You calmed yourself before you could say anything. You wanted to make it clear for him, so you gathered up all of your thoughts before speaking.

“Jesse…you don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that you love me. How long I've waited for you to…come to me and look at me as more than a friend. To hold me and touch me in ways I don't want anyone else to.” Jesse takes shallow breaths as his heart was beating fast. He could even feel his mouth starting to dry up at how much his nerves were starting to get stretched.

“Do you know how hard its been? How hard it is to not be near you when I was gone? To text you only for you to text me a couple days later because I wasn't that important for you to text right back? How hard it is to be near you and yet be so far? How every guy I ever went out with, I always have to compare them to you because I couldn't ever stop thinking about you?” Your voice was finally cracking and you could feel the tears start to pool around your eyes.

“Do you know how hard it was to not compare myself to all the people you hung around with? Not just your girlfriends but your friends too. Because I always wondered what it was about them that you liked to want to be around them more than me. Do you know how hard it was to see you look at Jane and wonder what it is that you just couldn't look at me that way. With adoration and love. Do you know how hard it was to completely change the way I thought after that night you told me to leave and never come back because you couldn't believe I was telling you I loved you?” Jesse was on the verge of tears himself. Hearing you say these things, your experiences and hardships, all because of him. And of all people, why would it be him. He knew he wasn’t worth shit to have anyone think of him so deeply in this way. He didn’t deserve it and you didn’t deserve to cry over some fucking loser who couldn’t be like everyone else and grow up. You shouldn’t shed your tears over some junkie who has hurt you so many times over the years. You're worth more and you didn’t need to cry over someone who was literally beneath you in all things.

“Do you know how hard it was being the afterthought? Being second to everything? Third? How I was always by your side, doing whatever it takes to make you happy, to make you smile, to keep you going? How there were so many reasons for me to just drop you completely from my life but I didn't. I didn't care that you were smoking weed and partying and not doing shit with your life. Or that you started wanting to do meth even if I didn't want you too. I didn't care that you were a drug dealer or a cook now because I only care that you were safe at the end of the day. I didn't care because I loved you.”

The tears were flowing on both sides now as the room went quiet. Neither of you could hold it in any longer. All Jesse could feel was heartbroken. He’s such dick. You were right, you were an afterthought to him this whole time including now even if he thought he was doing something right for once in his life. But he never did anything right. 

“Jesse,” he looks back at you with bright eyes. “I don't love you the way I did before.'' It hurt to say outloud but you knew if you did, you'd be one step closer to clearing your head completely of him. 

“After that night, I had to rethink some things…and there were more cons than pros when it came to it.” Jesse's tears were flowing more than ever before. He really screwed up this time. 

"I'm trying now to not think about you as much. To not think like I did before and not put you on this pedestal that I have for years now. I don't want to put my heart and efforts on the line just for them to go to waste"

Jesse puts his hands on his face as he can feel his heart squeezing a terrible squeeze. Now it was his turn to be on the other side of it all. It was his turn to be denied and his turn to feel pain.

It was his turn to be an afterthought.

"Please Y/N, please…I love you…" 

You tried to hold back tears as you didn't want to shed anymore for him. You wanted to prove to yourself that you had control over yourself and that you were closer to putting this behind you. But seeing him cry and being in pain over you, it made it much harder to not go back to the way you used to be and accept his words.

"Jesse I think it's time for you to go…" you wipe your eyes and then head over to the front door opening it. 

Jesse only stood there, dumbfounded at what you're doing, looking at the door and then at you. You didn't look at him as you stared at the ground once more. 

He slowly makes his way out with you shutting the door behind him. As soon as you did, you lay against the door with a hand to your face in an attempt to muffle your sobs fearing that Jesse might still be out there.

Your attempts were only failures as he can hear you quietly crying. He broke you and he didn't even know he was doing it like the asshole he is. You didn't deserve it and he didn't deserve you. 

Jesse finally gets the strength to move his feet towards his car making his way to his house where he'll be lonely once more.

[pastanest]

Gale Boetticher x reader

A/N: first thing I’ve ever written for this character/universe but I only recently finishing Breaking Bad (yeah I’m 8 billion years behind Ik) and this man is my mf POOKIE so pls be nice x

warnings: as of writing this I’ve not seen Better Call Saul but I’m aware Gale’s in it so if anything contradicts pieces of his lore found there PLEASE DO NOT SPOIL IT I’ll come back and amend them after I’ve seen that show as well if need be - will be using gifs from bcs tho bc there are barely any gifs from Gale in bb on the internet for some reason

Being Gale’s S/O Would Include

- first of all, Worlds Giddiest Boyfriend™️

- no like actually

- gives very much in-awe-of-everything-his-S/O-is-and-does vibes

- every single thing you tell him you’ve done is a monumental achievement to him, even down to something as simple as going to the grocery store

- LOVES to explain sciencey things to you, regardless of whether you understand the intricacies or not

- in fact, better if you don’t bc he loves going into even more detail just to make it easier for you to wrap your head around

- LEAST condescending person ever, does not believe himself to be smarter than you or anyone else (he is a genius but he’ll only blush and shake his head when you call him that) and is thoroughly impressed by everything you do and know that is outside of his area of expertise

- the king of chivalry

- opening doors for you, pulling a chair out for you, paying the bill at a restaurant, standing up whenever you walk into a room if he’s not already standing, kissing the back of your hand whenever he says goodbye to you; regardless of your gender, Gale Boetticher IS pulling out all the classic romantic stops for you

- is actually a big fan of PDA but not in a making-out-in-public way, more of a will-blush-for-three-business-days-if-you-kiss-his-cheek-in-public-one-time and absolutely loves it

- the fact that you’re proud to be his and proud to love him in front of others makes this man’s heart sing for you

- incapable of giving you anything less than the most heartfelt and expressive compliments you have ever heard in your life

“You are the prettiest star I’ve ever seen.”

“Every atom that makes me the person standing here before you, thanks you for being who you are.”

“If an asteroid hit this exact spot and you, right now, are the last thing I ever see, I will live to be the happiest man there’s ever been.”

- unbeknownst to you he actually has a separate notebook filled with compliments and poetic tidbits that he thinks up whenever he daydreams of you and then saves them up to tell you later

- doesn’t care whether you’re vegan or not obviously but will cook you the most fire vegan dishes ever known to man

- will play records just to slow dance around his apartment with you crying as I type this one fr

- will zone out and smile so fondly, just thinking of you

- the sweetest and most attentive partner in the entire world

- memorizes your every like, dislike, quirk and interest so that he can plan the most perfect dates out for you, surprise you with the most thoughtful gifts and ensure at all costs you avoid things/people/situations that could result in you feeling upset/uncomfortable

- Gale is finely tuned to your emotions and will notice IMMEDIATELY if something’s not quite right with you

“Hey, is everything alright? Actually, don’t answer that; I noticed your hands have clenched marginally more than normal over the past 15 minutes so if you’re comfortable enough to tell me why, I’d love to know, but if not, please just tell me what I can do to make whatever this is better for you.”

- stop it I adore him

[mlmxreader]

Red Flags | Jesse Pinkman x m!reader

anonymous asked: hey jack, how've you been? can you write a jesse pinkman x male!reader? maybe one where walt threatens reader and jesse gets protective? love your writing man, thanks :)

summary: Jesse isn't nearly as stupid as he seems, he knows what he has to do when you get put into danger because of him.

tws: swearing, mild violence

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

It was just a normal Friday, you were off of work for the day and had decided to spend it at your boyfriend's house like you usually did; mostly, you did a bit of cleaning and some tidying up here and there, as you knew how much Jesse appreciated having someone help around, and it gave you an excuse to turn your music on and play it loudly.

The sounds of 'The Red Baron' by Sabaton blaring, shaking the room as you sang along; Jesse was only out shopping, he wouldn't be long and even if he was, you didn't mind.

He usually ended up bumping into Badger and spending an hour talking on the driveway anyway.

You were just about to sit down and have a cup of coffee and a cigarette, when there was a harsh knock at the door; you thought it was probably just Pete or Badger asking if they could come in and hang around for a while, so you didn't even think of turning the music down when you went to answer it.

"Mister White?" You furrowed your brows, looking at your old teacher as you tried to think of why on Earth he would be knocking on Jesse's door.

"Mister (y/l/n)," White nodded, although his tone was cold and harsh. "Can I come in?"

"Uh, sure," you shrugged, letting him in and closing the door. You followed him to the kitchen. "What are you doing here, Sir?"

White glared at you, then shook his head as he removed his glasses. "Stay the fuck out of my way."

You scoffed, looking around for a moment to try and dull the surprise. "Pardon?"

"You heard me," he growled. "Stay out of my way. Leave Jesse."

"I've known Jesse since we were kids," you pointed out. "I'm not just gonna abandon him."

"You're a distraction," he spat. "Leave him alone."

"I'm his boyfriend, not a distraction," you clenched your jaw, not really caring why he was acting this way. You and Jesse left school years ago, as far as you knew, Mister White wasn't even in contact with your boyfriend. "We're not in school anymore, Mister White, why the fuck is my relationship with Jesse any of your fucking business?"

"We're business partners," White explained, "and you're getting in the way of an empire."

"Get out." You told him. "Get the fuck out."

Slowly, White put his hand on your throat, and gently pushed you against the wall as he glared at you, shaking his head. "Stay out of my way, or I'll have to deal with you."

He dropped his hand, put his glasses back on, and let himself out; you weren't even sure how to react, dropping to the floor and bringing your knees to your chest as you swallowed thickly and tried to make sense of it.

Jesse, business partners with your old teacher. The very man who just threatened you.

What the fuck was going on?

It was a long while, about an hour and a half, when Jesse came home at last; he put the shopping bags by the door like he always did, and made his way to the kitchen.

When he saw you, he dropped to his knees, planting his hands on your face as he forced you to look into his blue eyes.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"Mister White came over," your voice was shaking. "He... he threatened me, Jess."

He clenched his jaw, trying to hold his temper back as he let out a harsh sigh, shaking his head. "He threatened you?"

"He said I need to leave you," you whimpered. "That I'm in the way of, of an empire."

Jesse nodded, licking his lips as he gently pulled your legs down, spreading them so that he could kneel between them, his arms around you so tightly as he cleared his throat and let you pull him as close as you could; your face buried against the soft fabric of his favourite yellow hoodie.

"I got you," he told you softly. "I'm all yours, I got you... I'll deal with it."

"Jess, what's going on?"

"I'll explain later," Jesse murmured. "All you need to know is that Mister White won't be coming over again, I promise. He's not gonna lay a fuckin' hand on you... did he hurt you?"

You shook your head. "He had his hand on my throat."

"That fucking bitch," he growled. "Let me take a look."

You let him push you back slightly, soft fingers tracing your throat as he searched for any bruises, any marks left from nails, but he found nothing except a smeared fingerprint made from ashes.

"Jesse..."

"You're not leaving my side," Jesse told you sternly. "I'm not gonna let that bitch touch you again."

He managed to get you up, letting you sit up on the counter while he put the shopping away; he remembered to get your favourite energy drinks and cigarettes, and the small smile that came to your face when he gave them to you was more than enough for him to feel a little more at ease for the moment.

Jesse was far from stupid, though, as although he had his moments of foolishness, he wasn't about to let Walter White get to you; you were the man that Jesse was intending to marry one day, he already had his aunt's chuppah ready to be washed for the day. He wasn't about to let Walter White ruin that.

He knew, though, he knew that you could be in danger, and as much as he had tried to keep it away from you, to try and keep you safe, it was clear to him now that he hadn't done nearly enough; he needed to do better, and knew that whenever he wasn't with Walter, he would need to be at your side to make sure nothing happened to you.

Jesse wasn't going to let you leave his side, he knew that the best thing he could do to keep you safe was to keep you as close as he could. It was his own fault, he didn't protect you well enough, he hadn't been a good enough boyfriend to keep you safe. He needed to do better.

[castieltrash1]

jesse. giving head. early morning sleepy. somno? >:3

jesse pinkman x gn!reader; smut, mentions of oral (m receiving), somno, established consent, slight mentions of jesse's prev drug use

As slow tendrils of pleasure crawl up his spine, Jesse nuzzles deeper into your pillow, taking in the faint scent of your shampoo. His whole body tingles, nerve endings alight, and if he were home alone on his springy mattress, he’d know it was some effect from whatever he smoked the night before. But he’s in your bed, completely sober, and yet there’s something building in his gut, growing stronger with each passing second.

Suddenly, the haze of sleep washes away in one fell swoop, and a raspy groan leaves his mouth before he can stop it, the instinctive action one step ahead of his mind processing what’s happening. It isn’t until his lashes flutter open and his eyes focus on you, curled up at the end of the bed with your cheek pressed to the softness of his inner thigh, that his thoughts click into place. He’s almost fully hard and your lips are ghosting the outline of his clothed cock, close enough so he can feel the little exhale you let out when you see he’s awake.

“W-what…” His voice is hoarse and he clears his throat before continuing. “Are you… Were you about to suck me off?” Jesse finally asks, unable to stop his lips from curling into a lazy smile. The roles had been reversed more times than he could count and he’d almost mastered making you cum before you were even awake, tongue working you to the edge so effortlessly after months of practice.

“Mhm,” you reply, pushing forward to kiss him through his boxers. “Wanted to try.” You whisper the admission so quietly he almost misses it, and he reaches down to pat the top of your head with his bony fingers. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” you tell him, and his hand falls to trace the shell of your ear as you shift between his thighs, eyes blown wide with lust.

“‘S alright,” Jesse reassures, biting his lip as you begin pulling his cock free, feeling it pulse hot and heavy against your palm. “I wanna watch.”

| breaking (down) bad weekend

(if anyone knows whose gif this is pls lmk so i can credit them!!)

[noellawrites]

Out and About - Brandon "Badger" Mayhew x gn!reader

summary: just a cute date with Badger :)

"Dude, is this a dildo?" Badger asked as he picked up an expensive-looking vase.

"Put that down!" you hissed, grabbing it from his grasp and setting it back on the showroom table. The last thing you wanted was to be stuck paying for an ugly vase your boyfriend broke.

"Sorry, jeez. It would've made a cool bong."

You laugh and nudge him. "Maybe, if it wasn't three hundred dollars. Let's get outta here."

The two of you walked hand-in-hand out the door and into the dry afternoon.

"Let's go in here," Badger said, pulling you into a very touristy-looking shop decked with t-shirts about chiles and aliens.

"I'm buying this," he laughed, picking up a shirt with a giant marijuana leaf on it. His eager smile was too cute to refuse, so you accompanied him to the register.

"You want anything, babe? Maybe this guy?" he picked up a stuffed wolf and made barking noises to accompany it.

"I think I'm good. I could go for something to drink, though."

After Badger bought his shirt, you led him to another section of Old Town where Blackbird Coffee House lay nestled between some nondescript shops.

"Sweet, they have a couch! Can you get me a smoothie?" your boyfriend asked before fully laying down on the coffee shop's cushioned bench.

You laughed to yourself and headed to the front to order. You were lucky to have such a fun and hilarious boyfriend to do silly things with you and accompany you on adventures.

After placing your drinks on a nearby table, Badger held out his arms to you.

"C'mon, man! We can both fit!" he exclaimed, much to the distaste of the other customers.

"Alright, sure," you smiled, allowing your boyfriend to lift you on top of him on the couch.

[an-angel2u]

hiii i literally love how our taste is the same lmaoooo !!

could i get reader comforting a whiny sub!jesse pinkman after he gets into another fight with walter in the lab and needs to be told how much he's worth to us <333

thank you!! 🫶🫶

beneath the weight

all jesse wanted to do was support you. the both of you. if that meant that he had to make blue meth in a laboratory with his former chemistry teacher who was dying of cancer… then that’s what he was going to do.

the job was tough, not only illegal and tedious, but he had to deal with said former chemistry teacher. he nitpicked everything that jesse did.

when he came home in the wee hours of the night, not only would he be tired, he’d feel like he was unimportant and a burden to everyone in the world.

tonight was different, it was worse than before. you couldn’t even imagine what walter could’ve said to jesse to make him this upset.

he slammed the front door, and you heard him kicking off his shoes and throwing the keys in the bowl.

you had prepared for him to come in like this, today was already an off day for him. the night wasn’t going to be any different.

you sat up in bed, waiting for jesse to come into your shared bedroom. his eyes were red and so was his nose. he had been crying.

“jesse…” you got up out of the bed and walked over to him, lifting his head up by his chin. his body immediately tensed as you touched him. your eyes took in his entire expression. “what happened, baby… talk to me.”

“i don’t know why i keep letting that fucker get to me. every damn time!” jesse raised his voice, he raised his hands, intertwining his fingers and placing them on the back of his ear.

you let him calm down for a second before you pulled at his wrists allowing you more access to wrap your arms around his neck.

“listen to me,” you spoke into his neck. “white doesn’t know shit, okay? he doesn’t see you, the way i do.”

“fuck, you don’t get it.” he pulled away from you, and you noticed the tears welling up in his eyes. “he says shit like ‘i don’t need you’ or ‘you’d be nothing without me.’ he calls me pathetic every god damn day.”

that made you feel a way, walter white of all people, giving jesse shit. “that old fuck doesn’t know anything. you are not pathetic. not to me, not to anyone who truly knows you.”

he wiped his eyes, trying to rid himself of the tears he shed. “come here.” you tilted your head over to the bed before laying down and resting your head on the headboard.

“come on…” you spoke again, this time with a softer tone. he huffed out a sigh before walking to your side of the bed, laying on your chest with his legs between yours.

“you know everybody makes mistakes, even white. you know what i love about you…?”

“what?” his doe eyes looked up, inspecting every bit of you.

“that you never let that shit get in your way. you still get up every morning and go to the lab. do i like the line of work you’ve decided to go for… not necessarily. nonetheless, you take care of both of us. i’m so thankful to have you in my life. regardless of what walter has to say to you.”

you brought your hand up to his face, rubbing his cheek with your thumb. his eyes softly closed immediately after you did that.

“i’m not gonna go anywhere. you know that you’ll always have me. it doesn’t matter what that… thing says… okay?” jesse scoffed at hearing your name for walter.

“okay…”

“now let me get some of that stress away, alright?”

[tawneybel]

Imagine after co-showering, Lalo asks you to wake him up in an hour by sitting on his face. 

[slamminslamminmcgill]

i need t4t poly jane jesse gooning. passing a bong between the three of you and lazily rubbing each other’s dicks. you and jesse have hypersensitive t-dicks and jane’s has been nuked by estrogen so she’s got a cute tiny lil softie cock that functions more like a clit. i think it’d be cool if she kept it in a cage most of the time and only unlocked it for play. actually i think she has a lot of toys.

the three of y’all y’all got matching buttplugs in and jane breaks out her wand vibrator. they hold your legs open and she holds it to your clit

“and we’re gonna keep this right here until you finish your hit, okay, baby boy?”

jesse taps the bong to your lips,

“yeah, c’mon, gimme a big one, yo. like… keep pulling ‘til you get a fuckin’ CLOUD…”

once the bong is full of thick white smoke, you’re sloppily trying to kiss it into at least one of their mouths. y’all have been at it for so long you don’t even cough anymore

bc her dick don’t work jane will put on a strap if she wants to top and she’ll make you pick out the dick that jesse’s gonna take (and he’ll pick out yours) you pick the biggest one for him and he says

“dude, no fuckin’ shot that’s gonna fit.”

jane hits him with the,

“aw, i thought you said you wanted to make mommy proud. were you lying? i just want you to take all the dick you deserve, you little fag~”

jesse hesitates, but then replies,

“…pussy only.”

[bowieandqueen11]

Celebrating Jesse Pinkman’s Birthday Would Include...

Request: OOOOH ALSO ANOTHER ONE. may i have some hcs for the reader celebrating jesse's birthday? he deserves to be pampered and loved ugh😭💞💖💓 thank you so much, smooch smooch smooch

You’re so welcome my lovely, this is such a sweet idea! <3 Sorry this is so short, I’m getting back into the swing of writing after being sick for so long!

Warning: some strong language, mentions of drugs and mentions of a bad childhood!

(I do not own Breaking Bad or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @cappincooks.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

The last time Jesse can remember anyone celebrating his birthday, he was around nine or ten years old. He was just about to start big boy middle school, and spent nearly a month begging his mom any time he could to invite some of his old friends over to skate around the neighbourhood. He ended up being so excited to be the centre of attention that he tried to impress them all: he ended up knocking the edge of his wheel over the sidewalk, chipping one of his front teeth, and was banned from ever skateboarding again. 

The last thing he could remember, as he sat with his knees to his chest crying in a puddle on the road, was his dad shaking his head and his friends scattering off back to their homes. The worst part, though, was the fact that all his friends ignored him once they started school, and blanked him as he started is downward spiral to the bottom of the class and straight into the wrong crowd.

Ever since then, it’s just been Jesse himself on his birthday. Alone in whatever room he’s shacked up inside, or out on the streets, sitting under the bleak lamplight of whatever bus stop he’s trying to hunch up and escape the night chill from. As he straddles the bench, he usually sniffs and rubs the back of his nose with his oversized sleeve; he sinks down, letting his beanie slip over his face and pretending no one can see the fact that he’s sitting in the outskirts of the city unwrapping a cupcake for himself. He’s also pretending that those aren’t tears slipping down his cheek and wetting the chocolate frosting, just remnants of the bus that had just splashes past and soaked his dirty trainers. He closes his eyes as he takes the first bite, the first thing he’s eaten today, as he pretends he’s back home with his brother and not shivering in his lightweight hoodie, feeling like the loneliest tumbleweed blowing lost in the biting wind.

So getting him to celebrate his birthday without breaking down into tears is... an ordeal in itself. To be completely honest, he spends most of his birthday morning pretending he doesn’t remember why the day is special at all. Cue him spending nearly an hour in the bathroom pretending he’s standing under a steaming shower when he’s actually just sitting on the toilet, smoking a joint out the window and hiding - he’s just so tired, man.

He nearly drops his jaw in shock when he finally opens the door and sees you standing next to his bed, surrounded by your sweet attempt at decorating: a few balloons are tied to the post, a plate of homemade cake and a present wrapped with a slightly askew glittery bow resting on his bedside table. At first you think that he’s sick - perhaps injured? He’s just standing there, stock still in his boxer shorts. He’s rubbing his hands together like a cricket, but his face is literally frozen in shock as he sways from side to side. Then he just... bursts out crying. Like full on blood shot eyes, sinking down to his knees, his heart bursting out like a tired child begging for tenderness. He can’t help the wail that bubbles out from his chapped lips when you anchor him, tugging him against you and just sitting on the floor for a while until he’s had his fill of fisting your shirt and placating himself with sobs against your belly button.

After about half an hour of rubbing his back, tracing the moles against the dip of his spine like alighting the constellations with your fingers, you finally manage to bring him to a stand and leave him to get dressed as you cook breakfast. You sizzle some bacon and eggs for him in the sole very, very dinged frying pan he owns. He comes sniffing down the corridor in a pair of jeans and a low cut shirt like he’s a ‘looney tunes’ character floating on air, the grin of pure delight on his exhausted face as he spots you plating it up making your heart sing. The two of you lounge on the living room mattress; Jesse leans back against your chest, bumping your chin and itching it with his light line of stubble from time to time as he leans back and takes the bits of bacon you’re feeding him from your swooping fork. He makes you laugh as he bites harshly, before gnashing his teeth towards you like a snarling dog, finishing with a soft, lingering, eggy kiss against the bottom edge of your lips.

He gets to choose his birthday activity again, and he nearly explodes with adolescent glee!! It’s been in his head since Saul suggested it, so the two of you end up getting strapped up and playing laser tag. He’s always been handy, and to be completely honest he’s so nervous today that he wants to keep his shaking hands busy for as long as possible. The set of him ducking behind camo coloured blocks and trying to roll out of the way of other kids’ blasts only to end up sausage rolling along the soda soaked floor lmaoo. He ends up creeping up behind you, kicking your heels and trapping you underneath the hump of one of the bridges. Your back hits the wall, Jesse shoving you into the darkness as he reaches up to fervently kiss you, catching you off guard with the way his arm winds around your waist. Not one to lose though, you lick his bottom lip and distract him from the fact that he’s smirking against your mouth while you’re simultaneously sliding your fingers down to his thigh and taking his fake gun out of its holster. When he finally pulls back against the flashing red neon alarm light that’s started hollering, he winks at you as he goes to draw it against your chest... only for you to shove him off and go giggling out onto the floor.

He acts so offended when the two of you leave, beelining straight for the nearby bar menu and ordering a hot dog to share on your way home. With one arm around your neck, and the other shoving the food away from his chewing mouth and back to yours, he starts giggling as you wander down the pavement. With the sun beginning to set against the empurpled flush of the dusty skyline, a few pedestrians give the two of you odd looks as the chuckling catches on and you both end up doubled over each other laughing. 

‘Yes! That’s my badass baby right there! Right on!’ 

When you get back home and it’s time to present Jesse with his cake, Walt comes banging round his back door right while you’re busy singing your fingernails trying to light the candles. You take great satisfaction of closing the blinds in his face, Jesse shouting ‘go away! Today’s my one day off this week bitch!’, from where he’s busy waiting (and nearly vibrating) by the kitchen counter. Even though you can still hear Walt grumbling and the few odd kicks against the splintering wood while you walk out with the strawberry sprinkled vanilla sponge, the spark of delight on Jesse’s face makes it all worth it. Against the warm, flickering gleam of the candle light, Jesse bites his bottom lip and tries to bite back the tears that cloud his eyes at the fact that he can’t even remember the last time anyone wished him a happy birthday, let alone sang for him. He goes to blow out the candles, but before his pursed lips can exhale he quickly leans over the counter and fondly takes your hand within his own soft palms. So quietly, so obviously enamoured, so quietly, like a chained dog finally feeling the free breeze for the first time, he asks you to help him make a wish because he already has everything he could ever want right here in his grasp.

[miniminiujb]

Jesse Pinkman? Pode escolher o tema

"O que você está fazendo?", Você perguntou observando seu namorado começar a mexer nos diversos vidros que estavam sobre o balcão.

"Nada", ele respondeu ainda mexendo nos vidros, você suspirou e andou até ele.

"Está procurando o que? Não vai me dizer que é drogas", você comentou já sabendo da resposta. Você passou os braços ao redor da cintura dele e trouxe um pouco mais para perto do seu peito. Jesse não respondeu, era verdade, ele estava procurando drogas, ele sentiu uma grande necessidade. "Vamos...", Você disse puxando-o para longe dos balcões. Levando ele em direção do sofá e colocando ele lá, dando um beijo nos lábios dele e se afastando de leve. Você pegou dois controles remotos e entregou para o Jesse, ele pegou e começou a colocar um jogo que gostava. Você andou em direção do telefone fixo e discou o número da pizzaria. "Gostaria de uma pizza grande de...?"

"Calabresa", Jesse falou.

"De calabresa", você continuou falando, passando o endereço e agradecendo. Você voltou a andar para ficar ao lado dele, Pinkman entregou um controle e deu o play no jogo. "Obrigado, B/n", Jesse falou.

"De nada, faço tudo por você", você disse deixando um beijo na bochecha do seu companheiro.

"Te amo, B/n".

"Também te amo, meu Jesse".