#Walter White voice: so you were always like this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

atleastpleasetelephone · 2 months ago

Note

This is my first time ever requesting but I was wondering if you could write a story about walter hale x reader. Like reader dancing on stage and he watches from the crowd but gets turned on somehow and his to take care of it but gets caught by the reader and it goes from there. 😍🙏🏻

Just what you need

A/N: Hi there anon! I'm very flattered to be the writer you asked for your first ever request! And I'm always overjoyed to have an excuse to write about Walter and spend some time thinking about that sexy smirk and that white suit... Anyway, I hope this story fits the bill. He got a bit more submissive than I was anticipating...

Pairing: Walter Hale x singer!reader

Word count: 3.8K

TWs: Smut, Walter is a little submissive, borderline a little foot stuff but it's mostly Walter liking her heels. Think that's it!

Walter saunters into the busy tent, looking around lazily. Your voice sounds great and the number of people here to watch you makes him glad he made the booking. He absolutely did it on the strength of your voice… and the length of your legs. They just seemed to go on forever and he thought they should be appreciated by the masses. He’s not a leg man particularly, but when you’d auditioned they were what was on display. Those legs, and your pretty little face. Right now you’re singing something French, and the way the words sound he has the urge to get a little closer. He weaves his way through the people, nodding and smiling at everyone he knows. Which is most people. He always tries to get to know as many people as possible everywhere he goes, being the sociable type but also believing that it’s good for business. He eventually gets to a couple of rows back and now he can see you properly. Your legs are shown off to great effect by the tight sequined dress you’re wearing, and not just that, the plunging neckline reveals you’ve got great tits too. Walter takes a deep drag on his cigar. The way you’re wiggling and singing the French words breathily into the mic is more than a little suggestive. He can feel something stirring below his waist and he rearranges quickly to make sure it’s not obvious.

You finish the song and look out across the crowd as the applause ripples through it. Your eyes flick across a tent full of strangers and then alight on him. Mr Hale. The undeniably sexy man who booked you to do this job. You’re confident onstage but off it is a very different matter, and the way he’d looked at you had made you stumble over your words and blush deeply. It’s fairly dark in the tent so you can’t see him that well, but you could swear that the tables have been turned and he’s looking a little flushed himself. You bite your lip and start to sing the next song, another sultry number, trying to only look at him every so often to assess the effect you’re having on him. Sliding your hands down the mic stand and then back up again, your eyes flick over to him unbidden, and you see something that looks suspiciously like him fiddling with his belt. You sway your hips back and forth to the music, purring out another verse as one hand moves to your hair, digging into it, your head rolling around with your eyes closed in ecstasy.

Walter’s brain short-circuits watching you, immediately imagining you on his bed, moaning as you close your eyes and move your head around like that on the pillow. His dick is achingly hard and he realises he can’t stay where he is any longer. Repeating the exercise from earlier, he starts to weave his way out of the crowd, smiling and greeting everyone again, his teeth clamped around his cigar. He has to get back to his tent and relieve himself. This is the most turned on he’s been for a while and he hates to waste it on his own hand, but he doesn’t know you and you’re supposed to be onstage for another half an hour. He can’t wait that long.

Your eyes open again as you launch into the chorus, and you realise at once that he’s gone. Disappointment hits you like a freight train. You were enjoying winding him up, or at least thinking you were winding him up, and now he’s got… bored? You’re supposed to be onstage for another half an hour but you’re not sure what the point is when the most interested party in your audience has just left. The song finishes and there’s another wave of applause. You smile, the adoration washing over you and buoying you up. Okay, maybe this is the point.

“Walter!”

Walter stops in his tracks, just outside the tent. He turns towards the owner of the voice, and sees the middle-aged wife of one of the town’s business owners, who he’d spent the best part of an hour chatting up yesterday afternoon.

“Mrs Everly! How nice to see you again.”

It isn’t nice. It’s a pain in the ass, and one he intends to get away from as quickly as possible.

The woman moves closer and grips his arm with her hand. “I simply must talk to you about my son.”

Walter tries his best to smile. This is the last thing he wants to talk about, although the previously urgent problem below his belt has now been reduced to a sort of background hum of need, and he reluctantly comes to the realisation that he’s strapped in to this conversation for the foreseeable future.

“Of course,” he coos. “Lawrence, isn’t it?”

***

You’ve almost forgotten about Walter by the end of your set, people are throwing flowers onstage as they whoop and cheer. This is your biggest crowd by a long chalk and you’re proud of your performance and their response to it. You curtsey as best you can in your tight dress, and then make your way off the stage. As soon as you’re off it your mind drifts back to the man who got you this gig in the first place. You wonder where he is and how you can find him, at least to say thank you for the opportunity. And to see if he’s still blushing, a naughty part of your brain suggests. Okay, so maybe that too. Pulling on a big woollen cardigan to make yourself a little more decent, you wrap it around yourself and walk out of the back of the tent. Someone hands you a celebratory drink and you clink glasses with them cheerfully, wandering around through the Chautauqua, looking into various tents and at the people as they pass you by. You’re still a little giddy from your performance and the glass of fizzy wine is only making things rosier.

Walter finally extracts himself from the conversation as the roar of the crowd from your tent reaches his ears. So much for not being able to wait. His dick is soft and it’s like his entire body has forgotten you, your long legs and sexy singing. He sighs, tossing the end of the cigar into the grass and crushing it under the heel of his boot. He wonders about trying to find you. You had been a surprising turn on. Adjusting his hat, he turns away from the tent, intending on just going back to his own living quarters again. He’s tired, and starting to think that it would still be easier to just stay on his own. As the years have passed, he’s found it harder to jump from girl to girl as he moves from town to town. He’s not sure why exactly, but the urge to touch himself and not have to answer to anyone else is winning out again. That is, until he takes a step and almost collides head first with you.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” You exclaim. You hadn’t been looking where you were going, exactly, and you don’t realise who you’ve bumped into until you’ve already apologised. Your face colours quickly.

“No need to apologise, darlin’.” He grins as he takes you in again, so much closer this time. “Thought ya were fantastic up there.”

Your blush deepens. “Thank you so much. I wanted to find you actually,” you tell him, your bravery growing. “To thank you for taking a chance on me.” Stepping forward, you get up onto your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. It’s his turn to blush a little. Your perfume is intoxicating and your lips are soft.

As you land back down on your feet you find yourself grabbing his arm for balance. You don’t move back, so you’re incredibly close to him, and you find yourself staring at his handsome face unabashedly. He adjusts his hat again and thinks about the fact that he needs to adjust somewhere else too.

“No problem, darlin’. Ya had a full house in there, so looks like I made the right choice.”

The corners of your mouth twitch, teasingly. “You left before the end, though?”

“Ah,” he pauses, pushing a hand into the pocket of his waistcoat. Wishing he had another cigar right about now. “Have ta keep movin’ about, ya know? Can’t stay in one place playin’ favourites. Even if I do have favourites.” His head tilts to the side a little as he fixes you with a stare that makes you feel like your soul is about to leave your body.

You step back slightly to allow space for you to lift your glass to your lips and take a sip. You end up draining it, thirstily. When you look back, there’s a slightly smug smile playing on his lips, as if he’s liking the effect he’s had on you.

“Well I um… I really appreciate you coming at all.”

The smirk grows at your use of the word coming, and you suddenly realise and cover your mouth with your hand, giggling.

“What’re ya gigglin’ about, darlin’?” He teases as he steps closer to you again, sliding his palm onto your back. You move your hand to his shoulder, almost without realising what you’re doing.

“N-nothing,” you stutter, reddening again.

“Oh. Nothin’.” He’s so close now you think he might kiss you, merriment making his eyes sparkle. Then just as suddenly as he’d drawn you towards him he lets you go, stepping away again and surveying the mess he’s made. You’re breathing hard, your face is beautifully flushed and your teeth have captured your lower lip and don’t seem like they want to give it up any time soon. “Let me find ya another drink, seens as ya’ve finished that one.”

You let him take you by the hand, leading you through the crowd as he looks for the nearest bar. There are people everywhere though, and he keeps getting waylaid. In the end he decides to give up on the bar and just take you back to his living quarters, where he knows he has something cold and fizzy, kept for just such an occasion.

“I hope ya don’t mind,” he explains, as he pushes the door open. “Thought it would be a little easier ta talk here. Not so many people demandin’ my attention.”

You nod and let him lead you to a small sofa on one side of a little dining table. Once he’s got the cork out of the bottle and found some glasses he sits opposite you, pouring two drinks and staring into your eyes again as he clinks the glasses together and declares your performance a roaring success. You take a sip and smile and he takes his hat off and lays it on the table, running a hand through his thick black hair.

“Hope ya don’t mind me makin’ myself comfortable, honey.”

The bubbles must’ve gone to your head, because you shrug off your cardigan and grin at him, telling him you don’t mind at all. His eyes almost pop out of his head, and he tries to calm himself down by taking off his own jacket. It doesn’t work.

“You like my dress?” You ask, apparently still fuelled by the high of your performance and a glass and a half of wine. Leaning forward a little, you squeeze your arms against your breasts just enough to make them even more prominent than they were before.

Walter finishes his glass in one gulp and stands up, moving round to your side of the table and sitting next to you on the couch.

“I do, honey. I really, really do.”

His hands cup your face and his lips press gently against yours. You respond eagerly, tongue running over his plush, soft lips, begging for entrance to his mouth. He’s tempted to tease you, but his dick has taken over the thinking for him and so he opens his mouth, turning his head so he can explore yours with his tongue, hands never leaving the sides of your face.

Your fingers reach for him, running up his thighs and starting to undo the buttons on his waistcoat. He pulls back.

“You’re an eager little thing, ain’tcha?”

His hands move to rub up and down the tops of your arms, and your eyes drift down to his lap, where the outline of his dick is prominent.

“I’m not the only one who’s eager,” you murmur in response, running a teasing finger over his clothed length. His breath hitches.

“Well you’re so gorgeous, darlin’... wigglin’ away on the stage like that in this tight little dress…” his hands move to the hem of your dress, and he tries to push it up to your waist but only succeeds in bunching it up a little. “It’s enough to drive a man crazy…” those big, strong hands trail up your body, feeling the way you fill the dress out as he begins to kiss your neck. You can’t hold back a moan. “Though I think I might haveta get ya out of it now, so I can have what I want…”

His lips press kisses to your throat and your hands tangle in his hair in response. You wriggle forwards to let him reach behind you and unzip your dress, his head making its way between your breasts, kissing and nuzzling them as he pulls the dress down your shoulders, exposing your bra to him for the first time. He moves back to look properly and groans. Walter likes tits and yours are nowhere near a disappointment. Your chest is heaving and you try hard to get yourself back under control, standing up and peeling the rest of the dress off and letting it fall to the floor. He groans again, sure his dick is leaking when he sees the little wet patch on your panties. He forces himself to stand up, though he has the strangest urge to drop to his knees at the sight of you.

“Is this what you want?” You breathe, feeling like there’s electricity in your veins.

“Mmmm.” He kisses you again, his hands on your face as your fingers work overtime to get his waistcoat and shirt undone.

He pulls the sleeves off over his hands without stopping his exploration of your mouth, his clothes dropping to the floor as he grabs you, pulling you tightly against him. You make out for a while, hands all over each other, desperate for more but trying to enjoy the moment. As he steps back finally, a little breathless, the urge from earlier returns. He decides to indulge it, kneeling before you and sliding his hands onto your thighs, looking up as he mouths you through your already soaked panties.

“Shit. Walter.”

“Feel good, honey?” He asks, his words buzzing against you.

You nod dumbly, pleasure teasing you as he keeps licking through your thin little panties, teeth grazing your sensitive spots. You let out a little whine and his fingers loop through the waistband, pulling your underwear down at glacial speed, slowly revealing you to him. He eyes your pussy hungrily, abandoning your panties half way down your thighs. A firm lick to your clit has you whimpering, and he loves the sound. His thumbs hold your lips open as he continues his exploration, tongue lapping at your arousal.

“Oh God.”

He looks up at your face again, your head thrown back as your hand rakes through your hair. That’s enough to convince him that you’re already close, and he pulls your panties down to your ankles, helping you step one foot out of them and slinging your leg up and over his shoulder. You squeak, your ass making contact with the table as you wobble from the effort of standing on one high-heeled foot.

He moves his face just far back enough to tell you to hold onto his head and then buries himself between your thighs, his hands gripping the sides of your ass. You do as you’re told, starting off holding on gently, but as soon as you feel his tongue press inside your pussy you forget about handling him with care. You wobble, your leg shaking, and you find yourself falling backwards onto the table. A glass crashes to the floor. He grunts as you pull his hair, your hips bucking up into his face as he dives even deeper into you. One of your hands lets go to slam your palm against the table, so close to release now. Your leg wraps around his head forcing his face against your pussy as you rut against him, starting to whine desperately. He can’t breathe but he doesn’t care, just wanting to get you there.

Finally your orgasm washes over you, making you clench your hands into fists and curl your toes, crying his name over and over again like a prayer. He thinks it might be the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.

“Oh God,” you whimper again, as you finally let him go and he rocks back onto his heels, trying to get his breath back. “Are you okay?”

The urgency with which his dick is pressing against his pants is suggesting otherwise, but he just grins and tells you yes. You’re just starting to think about peeling yourself off the uncomfortable table when he stands up and rids himself of the rest of his clothing in record time.

“Don’t go anywhere, darlin’,” he coos as he rubs his dick against your pussy.

You barely have time to think, never mind try to go anywhere, before he’s pushing inside you. He’s hung and it hurts but you don’t care. You’re still dizzy from your orgasm, and you feel like you’re floating in space. He puts both of your ankles on his shoulders once he’s bottomed out, watching your face for his cue to move. You’d squeezed your eyes shut as he pushed inside, but they spring open now, full of lust.

“You okay, darlin’?” He finds himself asking, despite his desperate urge to move, his lips finding your ankle bone and kissing there.

“Yes,” you whisper.

Starting to thrust slowly, short, deep movements, he grips one calf in each hand. Your mouth falls open in ecstasy. He feels so good inside you don’t think you could speak right now if he begged you to. His eyes skate over your face and your breasts, still cocooned in your pretty lacey bra.

“Take that off f’me, honey,” he murmurs, nodding at the final item of clothing.

You struggle to reach behind you on the table, but you manage eventually, unclasping the bra and shrugging it off. He swallows, eyes hooded with lust. He can’t keep this slow pace up anymore, and he pulls almost all the way out to slam inside you with force, his eyes glued to your breasts as they bounce.

“Oh!” You cry out in surprise.

He grunts, repeating the movement again and again, feeling his release in the base of his dick now. Turning his head slightly, he licks from half way down your calf to your ankle, changing pace, his thrusts speeding up as he lets his tongue explore below your ankle bone, trailing along the soft leather of your shoe. The whole table shakes with his powerful thrusts, and you see the sweat standing out on his skin, feeling the way it sticks your skin together around the part where you’re joined.

“Walter!” You can’t think of anything else to say, you don’t even know what you’re trying to convey as the pleasure tips you over the edge into senselessness.

“Almost there, baby,” he moans, his thumb finding your clit in an attempt to coax another orgasm out of you.

The feeling jolts you into the room and you find yourself climaxing again, softer and more gentle than the last time, but just as strong.

“Oh GOD!”

His hands grab the tops of your thighs as your legs bend and fall off his shoulders, and he pulls you quickly towards him as he thrusts again. He pounds your pussy a few more times, and then he’s closer than he’d like to be inside a girl and he pulls out and cums hard and messily all over your belly. He holds the edge of the table for balance as his mind reels from the intensity of the pleasure. As soon as he can manage it, he bends down and rummages around in his clothes for his handkerchief, carefully wiping you clean with it.

You sit up slowly and look around you, dazed. He smiles at you, taking one of your hands and using it to help you stand up. You groan.

“Ow. My back…”

He rubs it gently with his other hand.

“Sorry darlin’. Ya wanna go lie down in a real bed for a while? Let me kiss it better?”

You smile and nod. “I’d love to.”

He leads you through another door into his bedroom, pulling the bedclothes back and gesturing for you to get in first. You step out of your heels and slip between the soft clean sheets, and he gets in with you. He rolls you gently onto your side, facing away from him, and starts to kiss you from the nape of your neck down. You feel like your nerve endings are on fire, and every kiss has you trembling.

“Mmmm. Walter.”

“Next time we’ll make love in the bed,” he mumbles against your skin.

“Next time?”

He pauses, dragging his lips back up to your ear and letting you fall onto your back again. Looking down at you, his eyes full of concern.

“Only if ya want, darlin’.” This might be the first time he’s ever been worried about a girl saying no.

“I’d love to. But… I need to keep singing to make a living and you’ll move on soon too…”

The words come out of his mouth before he has time to think about them. “Why don’tcha join the Chautauqua permanently? Travel with me?”

Your eyes go wide. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then I’d love to.”

He smiles, curling his body around yours and laying his head down on your chest. He’s never invited a girl to travel with him before, but something about this just feels right, and he sighs contentedly as he closes his eyes. He’s glad he took a chance on booking you for tonight. You’re just what the Chautauqua needs, and you might be just what he needs, too.

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vladajwrites · 2 years ago

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CHARLIE POV KILLING READER’S BOYFRIEND AND THEM COMFORTING HER

My Keeper

omg. yes please. :,)

cw; abusive relationships, violence

notes; I had no intentions of making this so long, I truly couldn’t help myself :,) I adore protective Charlie <33

Charlie had truly become consumed with the thought of you. You were friends during childhood but drifted apart as you grew older. You couldn’t help but admit you still had a soft spot for him in some way. You always tried to say hello and acknowledge him when you passed him by. He was truly too nervous to even reply most of the time, the words got stuck in his throat as he watched you. As he grew increasingly nervous, you couldn’t help but feel as though you truly were drifting apart. It was incredibly difficult to read him.

During the summer before your senior year, you began to attract more and more male attention. In some ways you loathed it. You had always been rather shy and cautious around new people. One man specifically never let up from his pursuit of you. In just a few months you found yourself in a relationship with him. Stephen Walters was captain of the football team, got good grades, was well known to everyone, a classic type of handsome. On paper he seemed perfect, but once you became his, his cool demeanor faded rapidly. He became increasingly temperamental, controlling behind closed doors.

During this time, you began to catch the attention of a familiar pair of eyes. Charlie seemed to watch you like a hawk. You couldn’t explain why, but you began to find comfort in his steady attention. Your heart would sink into your chest as you watched Charlie’s face contort in disgust when you passed him by, your boyfriends arm draped around you. His touch began to feel bruising, sickening. You wished more than anything you could find the strength to leave him.

October rolled in, the leaves began to change around you. It was your favorite time of the year, but something was making it nearly impossible to enjoy it.

Stephen began to grow paranoid. Taking every moment to stalk you. Overthinking every interaction you had with others. His calm and collected mask finally slipped completely when you were alone with him.

You were sitting in Stephens car, parked right outside of your house. It was quiet for a few moments, you could feel something about to implode beside you.

“How many men have you spoken to this week?” Stephen spat, just barely above a whisper.

You tensed immediately, unsure how to answer. You knew that any answer you gave would result in another meltdown from him. There was more venom in his voice than usual. You could smell the liquor on his tongue even from where you sat, he must have been drinking nearly all day before picking you up.

“Not many, only when necessary in class. I promise.” You could barely get the words out of you.

You watched his knuckles turn white as he gripped the steering wheel. You shrunk back in your seat, moving closer to the car door. You felt like such a coward, he had threatened you before, told you what he would do to you if you decided to leave him. How could he keep his mask so steady in front of others? How could you have fallen for it? How could you have let things get this bad?

You wished someone would pass by, see the expression on your face, step in to help you. You were able to hide your emotions so well though, a necessary skill you developed in childhood. Your parents would never become involved, you had little to no friends that would willingly step in the middle of all this. You were thoroughly trapped.

Your mind was racing, you could’ve never expected Stephen’s next course of action.

He turned towards you quickly, before you could process the look on his face, you felt a blinding pressure around your throat.

Your eyes grew wide as his grip tightened. He shook you, willing your eyes to meet his own.

“If I catch you speaking to another man, even in class. I’ll fucking kill you, and I’ll kill him too.” He seethed in front of you. The veins on his forehead popped in a dreadful way. He looked so unfamiliar, so terrifying. The liquor only heightened his paranoia and rage.

You tried your best to breath, the air got stuck in the back of your throat, just above his tightening grip.

“Do you understand?” He became increasingly closer, pushing you against the car door. The handle dug into your back. You couldn’t bring yourself to process his question. You just needed to breath.

“Are you fucking listening to me?” His previously hushed tone grew to an alarming shout. This effectively pulled you from your trance.

You nodded your head, attempting to choke out the word yes. It was pathetic. You hated yourself in that moment more than you’d ever had.

He surprisingly seemed appeased by your response. He let go, sinking back into his own seat.

You sucked in a heavy breath, it was painful going down your throbbing throat. You clawed at your skin, attempting to rid yourself of the growing pain.

“You know I love you.” His voice switched back to a sickeningly sweet tone.

You needed out, you needed to get away from him before you completely fell apart, knowing that this would only upset him all over again. He had never put his hands on you in this way. Would his violence only increase overtime? You knew you didn’t have the bodily strength to pull away from him if he put his hands on you again.

In a sudden moment of strength you pulled at the door handle, dropping to your knees on the paved sidewalk below. The cool air was a sudden comfort. You choked out rasped breaths.

You turned over your shoulder, praying he wouldn’t get out as well and drag you back into the car.

“I love you too.” You muttered. The words felt like knives down your neck.

He watched you for a moment, his expression seemed to be tinted with pity. It made your stomach feel sick.

You stood on trembling feet. Willing yourself to shut the car door behind you. You mustered every ounce of strength you had, making unsteady steps to your front door. You heard his car peel away as you twisted the door handle.

You felt a wave of relief as you entered and bolted the door behind you. Once up in your bedroom, you fell to your knees. It was impossible to hold back the sobs that racked through you. You were exhausted, scared, you wished it would all just end.

You awoke the next morning on the floor just beside your bed. You had to get ready for school, debated on just taking the day to yourself. You decided it was best not spend the day stuck with your own thoughts, all alone.

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror after stepping out of the shower. You looked horrible, truly. Your eyes were sunken in, hugged by darkening circles. You hadn’t realized how much weight you had lost while you were with Stephen, you looked as sickly as you felt inside. The most glaring issue was the deepening purple and blue bruises that clung to your throat. They were a perfect picture of Stephens fingers. You carefully grazed over the welts, wincing at the sharp pain.

You had to leave him, even if it killed you in the process. You couldn’t live like this, his abuse would absolutely escalate as time passed by.

You knew attempting to cover everything with makeup would be useless. You settled on a form fitting, black turtle neck. The only issue was that the collar only came about halfway up your neck, exposing half the bruise. You sighed pulling your hair forward in an attempt to better conceal yourself.

Whatever, you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. It wasn’t likely that anyone would take notice anyways. You had effectively distanced yourself from almost everyone since your relationship began.

The first half of the school day passed by tortuously slow. You did your very best to keep your head down, avoided the paths you knew Stephen usually took.

You had nearly left the building as your lunch period began when you felt a hand on your shoulder, turning you around.

Fuck. You were certain Stephen had found you, was about to rip into you for cutting the previous night short.

You couldn’t hide your shocked expression when Charlie was the one who now stood in front of you.

You felt yourself tense. Unsure what he would say. You almost felt ashamed to stand in front of him in the current state you were in.

But his touch was reassuring, impossibly soft. You nearly melted into the relieving warmth of his hand on your shoulder.

His eyes darted across your frame, taking in the full sight of you. You wished you could drop through the floor. A nearly trembling hand reached up to brush your hair behind your shoulder. You knew he could see the full weight of your markings as he hooked a careful finger around your collar pulling it down to get a clearer look.

You shuddered as his thumb grazed over the most tender part of your neck.

You looked up to meet his eyes again as he cautiously pulled away.

He was so close, you took in the familiar sent of the cologne he always wore. It had been so long since he had been this close.

You were in disbelief that he had noticed, your heart beat off kilter as you took in the realization that someone had actually noticed.

His expression grew dark, with an unfamiliar tinge of violence. It didn’t scare you though, not in the same way Stephens did.

“Did he do this to you?” Charlie asked, you barely caught his quiet question.

Your eyes immediately welled with tears, you couldn’t stop them if you had truly tried.

Charlie took in the weight of your saddening expression. He didn’t look at you with pity, or disgust. His gaze morphed into a far off rage. You had never seen him like this before. Your shoulders dropped a bit more as you understood the anger wasn’t directed towards you.

You couldn’t find the right words to say. “I’m- I’m sorry.”

Charlie’s expression contorted again, into an impossible stillness. “Sorry?” He questioned empathetically. He took a step closer. So, so close.

He bent down, his mouth just besides your ear. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

Your face grew hot at his words. You knew he wouldn’t, would absolutely never expect him too. The thought of Stephen dead though, brought a sick feeling of comfort in your heart. You were just so incredibly thankful for the sentiment, for the words Charlie spoke.

Before you could think any further, you threw your arms around Charlie. His uncertain and unsteady hands slowly found themselves around your back as well.

You couldn’t explain why, but you would like more than anything to just stay like this for a moment longer.

“Thank you.” You whispered, feeling him relax a bit further into you. A single tear rolled down your face, surely falling against Charlie’s shoulder.

Before either of you could speak another word, you felt a tight grip on your shoulders, ripping you from Charlie’s arms.

Your heart pounded in your throat as Stephen spoke behind you, his grip grew domineering around your chest.

“Don’t fucking touch her, Walker.” Stephen spat, quickly pulling you down the hall and out of the building. You shot a careful glance behind your shoulder.

Charlie was just visible behind you, his fist were held tightly at his side. His face twisted with a pained grimace.

You felt horrible, absolutely sick to your stomach.

Over the course of the next couple days, you put on your bravest front. You ran through all the possible ways you could leave Stephen and come out with your life and body relatively unscathed. The options were increasingly limited. Maybe you could leave him during school, surrounded by a sea of students in the hallway, only to face his rage after the last bell rang. Maybe you could end it over the phone, but then he’d surely end up at your home, tearing down the door to get to you.

It seemed your only real option was to fight your way out of it. Although the thought was incredibly morbid, if he truly were able to kill you, you’d at least be free and rid of him.

You dug through your kitchen drawers that Wednesday after school. You sighed in relief as you found your fathers old and rusted switch blade in a mess of overdue bills and forgotten trinkets in one of the messy drawers.

You carried it with you always, in your backpack or back pocket. It was at least some sense of security. If it truly came down to it, could you really hurt him? Kill him if you had to? You weren’t entirely sure.

Charlie kept close for the rest of the week. Making his following and watchful gaze ever apparent. You felt a steady confidence build inside of you. Someone was watching, Charlie of all people. If something went wrong he would know. You found yourself searching for him, in the hallways, in class. Your thoughts were thoroughly consumed by him. You slowly began to see him in a new light. Maybe your newfound obsession was just a comforting distraction from your painful reality. But it was a welcomed distraction.

You watched his hands flex and move as he held his pen. Watched the way his shoulders would roll as he passed you by in the hallways. Found yourself wondering what it’d feel like to run you fingers through his mess of hair-

But you kept a safe distance, he kept his as well. It was as if there was an unspoken understanding that any further communication would put you in real and horrible danger.

The rest of the week flew by, you found yourself pacing your bedroom floor that Sunday night.

This was it, it had to be. You’d call Stephen over, to end things. Fight if you had too. You refused to let yourself suffer any longer.

Just as you went to make the call, your phone rang. Your eyes widened as you scanned over the Caller ID. It was Charlie, you quickly answered the call with trembling fingers.

“Hey.” You answered. You were truly surprised you still had his contact information after all this time.

“Are you safe? Is he there with you?” Charlie spoke in a hushed tone.

You breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Yes, I’m okay. I’m alone for now.” You paused for a moment, you weren’t sure why you were speaking in a whisper, the house was empty as it usually was.

“I’m going to call him over, though. I have to put an end to all of this.” You finished your statement. It was relieving to know that someone would be aware of what was happening. If things turned for the worst, at least he would know.

You couldn’t help your next words, “I’m so scared Charlie.” Your voice broke as you confided in him.

The line was silent for a moment. You nervously picked at the skin on your lips.

“You’ll be safe. It will be alright, I promise.” Charlie spoke just above a whisper now as well. You knew he couldn’t actually secure this, but it meant the most to you, nonetheless.

“I-I just want you to know. No matter what happens-“ Charlie could barely utter the words. You kept quiet, silently urging him on.

“Please know, I’ve always loved you.”

Your heart nearly stopped, the sudden pounding in your ears let you know it was still working.

Love? He truly loved you? You had been friends for ages, even if you had grown apart in recent times, you still considered him to be close. People can love their friends. Just love in a friendly way? Maybe you truly loved him in that way too. Could it be more than that though? How could it be? A thousand thoughts passed through your mind in an instant. You were surly overthinking this all. Maybe you’d truly like to love him in more than just in a friendly way, though. If you made it through the night, you think you could, in the future, after you gave yourself the time you needed to heal and process all of this.

Before you could let yourself overthink it any further, you replied breathlessly. “I love you too, Charlie.”

And with that, he hastily ended the call. You paced for a few more moments, reminding yourself of the peace that would come after all this ended. You had to be brave. It must have been no more than fifteen minutes before a new found certainty pushed you to dial Stephen’s number.

You chewed at your lip, running your fingers over the green and yellow healing bruises on your neck.

It felt like the phone just rang on forever. You were met by Stephen’s voicemail. Your heart sunk as you dialed his number again. He always answered your calls; always.

You were met with his voicemail over and over and over again. You eventually gave up your pursuit, setting your phone down beside you on the bed, turning your ringer all the way up just incase he decided to call you back.

You woke the next morning, sitting straight up in bed. You hadn’t remembered falling asleep, dread built inside you as you reached for your phone, expecting a dozen missed calls from Stephen.

Only there weren’t any, not a single one.

Odd. Your dread dissipated, only to quickly return as a thought hit you. Was he mad at you, ready to blow? What had you done to upset him? Were you in real danger now?

You got hastily ready for school. Throwing on a pair of too lose jeans and a sweater that hung just off your shoulder. Your hair was a mess around your shoulders.

An unfamiliar sight played in front of you as pulled into your schools parking lot. Dozens of students stood in front of the building. About six or seven news vans were parked nearly up onto the curb. What could this be for? What was happening?

You threw your bag onto your shoulder, making your way towards the schools entrance. It wasn’t until you got closer that you could see that many of the student held a sullen expression, a few were crying, held in comforting arms.

A pit grew in your stomach. Had someone been hurt?

You pulled a girl you were only acquainted with in passing to the side, stepping out of the view of one of the newscasters, you couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Kirby, what happened? What’s going on?” You asked the girl.

Your anxiety only worsened as her face twisted with pity and terror.

“I- I’m so sorry.” You could see the tears well up in her eyes.

Sorry? What could she possibly be apologizing for? She scanned over your panicked expression before dropping her gaze to the ground.

“It’s Stephen, they’re all saying he was found murdered this morning.”

Your head rung like a bell. You seemed to sink impossibly lower into the ground. Murdered? Stephen? He was really gone? But how-?

Your thoughts were quickly halted as Kirby wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a suffocating embrace.

“I can’t imagine the pain you’re feeling right now. I’m so, so sorry. I know you loved him.” Kirby’s voice cracked on her words, you could feel the tears roll down her face.

Love? Your love for him faded long ago.

Pain? You weren’t in any pain at all. The buzz in your ears dissipated as you took in the full weight of the news. You were free. Free, truly.

In some horrible and sick way, you were relieved it was finally over. You were okay, safe. It was going to be okay.

You tried your best to conceal the smile that was spreading across your lips as Kirby pulled away.

You put on your saddest expression, you were about to put on the best performance of your life.

Your lip quivered, the tears that welled in your eyes were truly tears of joy, but Kirby didn’t need to know that. You forced a pained grimace in your expression.

“How? How was he killed?” You asked, making your voice crack on your last words.

Kirby cringed, shuddering at the thought.

“No- no, I can’t say.” Kirby pleaded.

“Please, I need to know.” You urged her on, grasping around her upper arm.

Her eyes fell to the ground again before meeting your own.

“They’re saying he was stabbed, gutted. There’s no suspects so far.” The tears were now falling fervently down her face. You wished that you could tell her it was okay, explain that it was well deserved. But you couldn’t, couldn’t ever say that to anyone.

Your head pounded again as you pictured him dying on the floor, coughing and choking on his own blood.

You felt sick as you reveled in the image. You were terrified of your own disgusting joy at this all.

Kirby took in your far off expression.

“I’m so sorry. I have to- I have to go. If you need anything at all, I’ll be here for you.” Kirby said.

You sucked in your cheeks, biting down hard. You nodded, watching Kirby turn and disappear into the crowd.

You stood for a moment. Utterly stuck. You gazed mindlessly through the sea of students and teachers before a familiar frame caught your eye.

Charlie stood on the top steps that led into the school. He was standing right beside his best friend Robbie. His disposition was entirely different and unfamiliar today. He held his shoulders a bit higher, hands wrapped around the straps of his backpack.

It only took a moment for him to meet your gaze. He nodded. A half smile spread across his lips as he took in the sight of you. He seemed entirely unfazed about the entire situation that was unfolding around you.

A sudden realization seemed to wash over you as looked him over. His knuckles were bruised and purple. A deep scratch slid up just above his shirt collar.

Could he have? No, it wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

His words from the previous Monday played over starkly in your mind.

You felt yourself stumble forward a bit. An invisible rope pulled you mindlessly closer to him.

It was him. It had to be.

You felt yourself grow sick as you held him in your line of sight.

So incredibly brutal. You would’ve never believed him capable. But he had, he had done this.

And it was done entirely for you. You quickly understood that the sick feeling growing inside of you wasn’t caused by any sort of terror towards him. You were sick with yourself for feeling so incredibly thankful.

He had done this to save you. He had done this because he loved you.

You didn’t feel deserving. He was the only person you’d ever truly be able to find comfort in over this entire nightmare.

You knew in that moment, you’d do anything to protect him from all of this. He’d never take the fall for this under your care.

You found yourself just inches in front of him now. His gaze seemed to swallow you alive.

So- so brutal.

You threw yourself into him. Melting into him as his hands grabbed up your back and through your hair.

Your tears began to fall again as he held you. Tears of pure relief.

“Thank you.” You whispered into his ear, just loud enough for only him to hear.

He relaxed a bit, knowing that you knew, and that you were so incredibly grateful.

“Anything for you.” He replied in the same tone.

Anything for him.

#fanfiction #fanfic #charlie walker #charlie walker fanfic #charlie walker fanfiction #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker x y/n #scream 4 fanfic

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gomzdrawfr · 2 months ago

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right i rmb now why I abandoned royal au bcuz of armours

[one big ramble about royal au - angst - non-angsty alternate ending]

So I wrote instead, did one doodle though but its shiet HAHA

for extra sadness, please feel free to listen along with this song

They were back in the attic—the one place that had brought them together for the first time. They swore the previous visit would be the last, yet here they were again, a day before the wedding.

His wedding.

"Maybe in another life..." "I'll look for you in every single one of them." "Yeah...you'd do that for me, Birdie?" "Mhm." "Just remember...I love owls." "Pretty vague if you ask me." "You'll know when you see me." "...That, I can guarantee."

It had been a bittersweet departure. But tonight was different.

Price leaned heavily against a dusty crate, his knuckles white as they gripped the edge. Across from him stood Raven, adorned in her new uniform—the new Commander of his knights.

And the keeper of his heart.

The air between them was thick with tension, the night before Price would forever belong to someone else, their emotions barely contained.

“Say the word, Raven.” His voice was low, gravelly, tainted with desperation he couldn’t quite hide—not from her. “Say the word, and I’ll call it all off.”

Raven’s heart wrenched at the raw emotion in his voice. It wasn’t fair. She had carefully buried everything about him, about them, sealed it away and sworn never to look back. She had resolved to see the King as only His Majesty—not as John.

But here he was, undoing it all with a few words.

She had to be strong—for both of them.

“You know I can’t do that, Your Majesty.”

“Yes, you can,” he replied harshly. “Damn the court, damn the alliances, and damn the throne if I must. I’ll take you- us—over all of it.” His blue eyes blazed with a fire that both entranced and terrified her.

John Price was a man driven by what he cared for most. She had seen that drive on the battlefield, and it had almost cost him his life more times than she could count.

Now, she had no doubt it could cost him his crown—or worse.

Her jaw tightened as she forced her tears to stay put.

“And what happens after that, Jo—Your Majesty? Do you think they’ll let you marry a knight? A commander masquerading as a man, as your queen?”

“I’ll fight them.”

“You’ll die.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t deny it—he knew.

“You’re not just a man anymore,” she continued. “You’re their King. Your life isn’t yours to throw away—”

“I don’t care.”

And she knew he meant it. She knew that if she gave even the faintest hint that she would join him, he would burn down the court, the alliances, the crown—everything, for her.

That knowledge was her undoing.

“I cannot let you do this.” Her voice was firmer, even though her chest ached, even though she wanted to be selfish, she couldn’t.

She had always been the pragmatic one, the voice of reason to his passion.

Her curse.

“You’re a King, Your Majesty. Must I remind you that you have a duty—to your people, to your kingdom, to your bloodline. Would you let your people suffer, just because you couldn’t let me go? And I—” Her voice cracked as she swallowed hard.

“I am but your sword. That’s all I’ve ever been, and that’s all I ever will be.”

They both knew how it would end.

“That’s not true,” he growled, pushing off the table. The crate shaking as he closed the distance in two strides, capturing her hands in his. His touch burned like fire.

“You’re the only thing I’ve ever been sure of. You’re my heart—you know that. Don’t tell me this is what you want.”

Her composure shattered. Tears spilled as her voice broke.

“It’s not about what I want.”

She whispered, voice uncharacteristically small and quiet.

“It’s about what’s right. And this—” She gestured between them. “This isn’t right. Not for them. Not for you.”

He shook his head, his thumb brushing her tears away. “To hell with what’s right, Eira.”

She pulled away as she moved toward the door.

Price reached out, his voice thick and pleading. “Eira—don’t give up on us—”

“Do you think I don’t want to stay?” She paused, her back to him.

She had fought for them. Harder than she’d ever fought anything—even in battle. And she had lost.

“You think this doesn’t kill me too? That I don’t want to tear the crown from your head and run away with you? But I can’t, John. Because if I do—” Her voice faltered, and she inhaled sharply, wiping her face harshly, ignoring the searing burn at the corner of her eyes.

“Because if I do, it won’t just destroy the kingdom. It’ll destroy us.”

The door closed behind her. Price slumped against the wall, rubbing his face as the weight of her answers sank in.

This wasn’t how he had imagined the night before his wedding would be.

===================

The wedding was a spectacle. Rows of gold and silver lined the aisle, white lilies and roses decorating every corner. Raven had overheard the guards mention the princess had wanted sunflowers—but the King had opposed, despite the protest from the council.

Her heart twisted, and her grip tightened on her sword.

The princess from the neighbouring realm was the picture of perfection, her gown shimmering like spun silver. Her sweet smile was radiant and warm, the perfect candidate for the King, one that would bring stability and peace to the kingdom.

But none of that warmth reached him.

When the heavy cathedral doors creaked open slowly, King Price stood at the entrance. Dressed in ceremonial finery of deep navy and gold, his white royal gown adorned with intricately woven tigers and deer horns, he wore the pride of his kingdom—his bloodline—like a crown. he commanded attention like the King he was.

But there was no joy in his eyes. His smile was polite—forced.

As he walked down the aisle, his eyes swept the crowd until they found her.

And in that moment, he said everything he couldn’t speak aloud.

It should have been you.

She turned away, staring at the stone floor.

===================

“Do you, King Price, take this woman to be your lawful wife, to honor and cherish her, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

The silence stretched unbearably long. Raven’s heart pounded as she watched him hesitate. His lips parted—and for a moment, she thought he might refuse.

The thought terrified her.

And yet, a desperate spark of hope burned in her chest.

But then he spoke.

“I do.”

===================

Raven was a disciplined knight through and through, with perseverance and patiences that revelled the King himself. But at this moment, when the rings were slipped into the King and the soon-to-be Queen’s fingers—she had never wanted to run away this badly.

To tear off her helm, to scream and yell the room full of nobles and courtiers and advisor that none of this right.

But she didn’t.

It hurt more when John glanced at her again, the faintest flicker of hesitations. The look in his eyes was unbearable–pleading, desperate, a silent cry for her top stop him.

Give me a reason to break this vow, Eira.

But neither of them moved.

He was a King now, bound to his new responsibilities. And she was a Commander, sworn to the crown. No longer the girl who had once shared stolen kisses with the boy destined to become King.

===================

Outside the cathedral, far from the cheers and bells, Raven stumbled into the shadows. Her helmet clattered to the ground, the loud sound harsh against the stillness as she leaned against the cool stone wall, the air biting against her flushed skin.

Somewhere inside, King Price was a husband now. He belonged to another in name—even if she knew his heart would always be hers.

We were meant to be, she thought, her chest heaving as she fought to contain her composure. But her knees buckled, and she sank to the ground, she knew she could never be herself anymore.

Meant to be, but not meant to last.

The tears came rolling, burning and harsh, and her broken sobs that broke free, buried against her trembling hands, trying to forget the last of their conversations.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said quietly, not turning to face him. She didn’t need to. She knew he would follow her. He always did.

Everywhere and whenever.

“Neither should you,” he replied, his voice rough with restrain, barely able to keep his voice steady. He stepped closer, his boots scuffing against the stone.

“Why did you come, Eira? Why did you put yourself through that?” She finally turned, and the raw pain in her eyes took his breath away. “Because I had to,” she said, her voice trembling. “I had to see it, to know it was real. To remind myself of what we gave up.”

John clenched his fists, his jaw tight. Don’t blame this on us, we tried our damn hardest.

He stood still, staring at her with agony, his wrinkles and skin folds heavier than ever.

How did it come to this? And so quickly, too? Hadn’t they just been stealing apples from the market yesterday, when they were simply John and Eira—unbound by titles, untouched by the crushing weight of their duties and responsibilities?

His voice barely above a whisper,

“Do you regret it?”

Her silence was uncomfortably long, long enough that he thought she wouldn't answer. And yet–

“I regret that we couldn’t have more time. But I don’t regret us.”

The words struck like a spear to their chest, sharp, carving a permanent hole between them.

She reached out, her gloved hand brushing his, and for a moment, it was just the two of them again—

John and Eira.

Before the crown. Before the court. Before the world tore them apart.

“Farewell, my king,” she whispered, pulling her hand away, and John watched her walk away, leaving him behind. Leaving them behind. =================

Okay! Enough of this sadness! Time for some alternative ending, slightly suggestive! Just ramblings tho, heavily inspired by this post (and also rambles with @ghostmoon1 thank you for the brainworms LMFAO)

In an event if Price decides to fuck it and marry Raven anyways, the kingdom will fall, and Raven would be carrying Price away from the rumble and chaos, taking temporary refuge in an abandon hut.

Something something, in this new life, Price was no longer bound by his royal title. Technically, he was overthrown. And though the world was falling apart around him, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement. A fresh start. Freedom.

All with his girl too *wink wink*

Meanwhile, Raven's having existental crisis KAJSHDKHAK Being a knight, serving the kingdom, had been everything she knew. It had defined her. Now, with the collapse of everything she understood, she had no fucking clue what to do with herself. But one thing was certain—she would serve Price, no matter the title whether he is king or not.

Something something they have to get warm, Price is naked under the blanket that was barely thick enough to give some warm, staring at Raven who pace back and forth near the bed, her mind racing, panicked at their new predicament. Every time Price pat the bed to ask her to come join him she just go "you are a King, it is imperative that remain as one, and I shan’t not engage in such behaviour with your majesty—“ and Price just yanks her in, smooshing her face into his hairy, warm chest.

“Eira,” he murmured, his tone teasing. “This ‘Your Majesty’ stuff is getting old. I’m not a king anymore. My crown’s back in the hall, in a broken castle that’s already fallen.”

Queue Raven internally screaming then melt to goo the more Price shush and coodle her.

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mattybstqrn · 10 months ago

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𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧 - 𝐈.𝐆

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝟹𝚡

Female Reader x Isaac Garcia

Y/n, the best friend of the kind and caring Danny Walter, who is always there when she needs him and gives great advice. The two had been best friends because of their love for acting and theater and studying movies which they both thought no one did but themselves until they met each other.

The two had meet in the 8th grade and both immediately became friends because of their love for acting. They were so glad to find a friend who had the same interest and had been friends ever since.

Y/n loves Danny, he's like a brother to her and she couldn't see yourself not being his friend. The two planned to audition for the play that was going on at school and once they got the cast list everything went downhill.

Danny didn't get the part he hoped for, his cousin did, and Danny was pissed. Y/n felt bad for him, he worked really hard, and everything was tossed into the trash, like it was nothing.

Isaac on the other hand was extremely excited that he got the roll, especially since that meant that he got to run lines with Y/n. The Garcia boy had been crushing on her for a while, but he never wanted to admit his feelings for her so he tried to get her attention by hanging out with other girls, bringing girls over to the house when he knew she would be there or making out with girls right in front of her locker.

Y/n thought it was kind of gross, she didn't care if he had girlfriends, or bought girls over to the house but the fact that he did it in front of her locker was what she found weird and disgusting.

Y/n hadn't talked to the boy a lot so whenever he was around, she didn't talk to him much. She did think he was cute, but she never bothered to tell him, but now that the two were playing the lead roles, they had to practice with each other and go lines together. Alone.

Which meant they could get to know each other some more.

Y/n rang the Walter's doorbell, she had earlier talked to Isaac suggesting that the two practiced together, Isaac immediately agreed and told her to stop by after school.

So, she did.

But she had no idea what Isaac was planning to do or say. You see most of the Walter's were busy today meaning it would just be the two of them, alone. In the house. With no adults.

Isaac ran over to the front door, opening it for Y/n, "Hi, Isaac," she politely smiled at the boy, "Hey," he greeted with a sly smile, Y/n looked at him wondering what he was thinking, meanwhile Isaac was admiring the girl and her outfit, she wore a tight, white short sleeved dress, that just about covered her knees, with a black jean jacket.

"So... should we start practicing?" Y/n asked the raven-haired boy, snapping him out of his thoughts, "Yeah," he nodded leading you upstairs to his room.

Y/n wondered why they were going up to his room, but you just figured it was for privacy reasons. You didn't mind going into his room, but it was kind of weird, you had never been into his room, or anyone's room other than Danny's and Cole's.

The two stood in the middle of the Garcia's boys room going over their lines.

Y/n was wondering how the hell he got the part.

His acting was... not great. He could definitely use some lessons. "Okay, Isaac, you sound like a robot." Y/n told the boy, she didn't want to hurt his feelings, but he needs a lot of help with the whole acting thing.

"Where's the emotion? the sadness? the happiness? the excitement? we're about to practice a kissing scene, for goodness sake! and you sound bored." Y/n was over this whole thing, Isaac didn't know how to act, and she didn't know how to help him.

Isaac looked at the girl confused, he understood what she meant but didn't know what to do, "Can we just try again?" he questioned with a sigh, "Yeah," she nodded.

The two went over their lines, again.

This time there was more emotion in Isaac's voice, but it still didn't sound right, Y/n ignored it, just wanting to get over with it already.

The two continued going over their lines, "I love you," Isaac read aloud, Y/n paused looking at the boy in confusion, that really caught her off guard, "Isaac. That's not the line."

"I know, I-I love you," he hesitantly blurted out, "What?" she asked with confusion and shock in her tone, "I-I think I'm in love with you," he admitted, "W-what are you talking about? we barely know each other,"

"We know each other a lot more than you think, I know a lot about you."

"L-like what?" she questioned.

"Like how you bit your lips when your nervous, or how you love acting so much that you tried to audition for a show, but you didn't get in, but that's just because they can't see how talented you are, I know how talented you are and so does everyone else and sometime you forget that yourself and-" Y/n then cut him off, smashing her lips into his.

Isaac was shocked by her actions, but he wasn't complaining, he kissed back, enjoying this moment. Y/n pulled away from the kiss, she was happy that she finally kissed him. All that stuff about not talking to him and not liking him was a lie, she had huge crush on him and had been keeping it a secret from everyone including him for quite some time.

She was embarrassed, he always had a girl by his side and deep down she was jealous that she wasn't one of those girls, but now that she knows how he feels, she couldn't have been happier.

"I love you too," she breathed out, butterflies erupting from her stomach.

Isaac smile at the girl, happy that they both felt the same way. The two were so caught up in the moment, they were just happy, relaxing in silence and... then she started ranting, "Ugh, I feel horrible, you're Danny's cousin and he's my best friend and I just kissed his cousin who I've been secretly crushing on for a while and-" Isaac then cut her off by pulling her into a kiss.

"I figured that was the best way to shut you up," he shrugged slowly pulling away from the kiss, "You were right," she nodded, she took a deep breath calming herself down, telling herself to relax and that Danny wouldn't mind, okay that might've been a lie to herself, but she just hoped for the best.

"You good?" Y/n nodded.

"We should probably take a break?"

"Or... we could practice the kissing scene?" Y/n suggested, completely ignoring his suggestion, Isaac's cheeks started turning a bright red, Y/n could tell he was flustered because of the way he was stuttering, "Okay then," she chuckled at the boys stuttering.

The once again went over their lines, Isaac was really trying but it wasn't quite right. The two then started to lean in, Y/n was flustered as was Isaac.

They had secretly been crushing on each other for so long and now they were having their moment, for the second time today.

Their lips perfectly landed on each other's, moving in sync, both feeling butterflies. Their lips fit perfectly together.

The two stood there, Y/n placed her hand on Isaac's cheek bringing him in close as he wrapped both hands around her waist, both smiling into the kiss, Isaac started dragging her backwards, both of you falling onto his bed, but swiftly switching places so he was on top.

Y/n let out a yelp and giggle as Isaac started kissing down her neck. Stopping what he was doing, the two sat up, just admiring each other, bring her closer to him, Isaac ran his hands through her hair and softly tugged.

Lifting her head up to look at the boy, as she sat crisscrossed in front of him. The two then started kissing again and then started taking off their clothes, shirts, pants, undergarments.

And I think you know where this goes 😉😏

#my life with the walter boys #mlwtwb #isaac garcia imagines #isaac garcia x reader #isaac garcia

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 8 months ago

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Part 26

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 25 🟣 Part 27

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Fluff, ongoing vampire shenanigans, angst, Mike being an idiot, feral!Walter.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Soooo we're back with another instalment of the vampyboys! We're not hating on jellybeans today, no worries! (Ain't that a relief?) Enjoy!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red

@sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie

@plaidcat4815 @wa-ni @lovemusicpart2 @lizzystuffsthings @manysecrets2020

@sarcasmoverlordxo

“Hey, Mikey…” Your voice came out hesitant and small. Not for any particular reason, other than an especially useless fear of rejection. “Would you please feed?”

“Oh, yeah, sure!” He sounded surprised, especially when you stopped him from going for your neck. “Ohhhhh, like that!” He grinned up at you while simultaneously pulling the hem of your shirt up. You let him take it off, barely noticing when he took off your bra as well.

“There’s one more thing I’d like you to do,” you muttered. You were so certain you wanted this, and so afraid Mike wouldn’t be okay with it…

“Anything, Sweetcheeks,” he said with a big smile while he wriggled his way down until his face was where it needed to be.

“I want you to leave the bite,” you whispered, stroking his cheek.

Mike moved back up, leaning his forehead against yours. “Are you for real?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “More than anything. Don’t get me wrong, I want the others like that as well, even if they don’t know it yet—”

“They know,” he interrupted. “We’ve been talking about it, kinda… August complained that he wanted to mark you, and Sherlock countered that he wouldn’t let that happen unless he got a black-on-white promise from you that he’d get his turn, too. He was kind of aggressive about it. I— ehh… I really think we should let them know about this.”

“Wise words,” you mumbled. “I'm impressed.”

“I hope the offer to let me feed my favorite way still stands, though?” he asked, smiling at you like he was looking at his favorite thing in the whole world — which probably wasn't even too far from the truth.

“Why do you like that so much,” you wondered out loud. There had to be more to it than a simple love for boobs, right? You looked down at Mike, who looked up at you, his deep frown telling you he didn't appreciate the disturbance just as he was about to sink his teeth into you.

“I think by now we've established that I have severe abandonment issues,” Mike said. It sounded like he was joking, but you knew he wasn't. It was a silly coping mechanism, and you weren't going to accept that this time.

“Yeah, I noticed,” you said softly, running a hand through his unruly curls. “But we can't always accommodate those, Mikey. That wouldn't be healthy, either.”

“Are you suggesting I go to therapy?” Mike said, faking shock and indignation. Then, he smiled. “Great idea, Sweetcheeks. Which is why I scheduled an appointment immediately after I came back from… being gone, I guess? But the waitlist is kinda long, so… It'll be a while.”

“I'm proud of you,” you hummed as Mike finally got to start his dinner — well, snack. You immediately sensed his desire for closeness, intimacy and, just like last time, you — ‘boobs' and ‘blood' were actually very low on the list. You locked your fingers in his hair and sighed, almost with relief. There was no need to pull him closer: he took care of that for you just fine, wrapping his arms and legs around you in the most adorable, comfort-seeking way.

Suddenly, you were overwhelmed with Mike's need to be taken care of, stronger than anything he'd desired up until this point, and when you unclenched your fist to move your hand…

“No! Don’t let go of me.”

“I'm not letting go, silly,” you whispered, stroking his hair and the back of his head. You were about halfway on your way to realizing what had happened when you felt Mike's teeth retreat and he looked up at you with big eyes full of shock.

“I didn't say that out loud,” he stammered. “I know I didn't say that out loud, because I very specifically remember thinking I didn't want to say that out loud.”

“That's…” But you were out of bed before you could speak, with Mike at your side who was furiously knocking on a door at the end of… some hallway — you weren't even sure it was the same hallway your room was on. Mike had managed to put a shirt on you, but it was both inside out and backwards.

“Sher-lock, open this door! Now!” What was this door made of? Reinforced concrete? Mike was definitely slamming it hard enough to…

“What the devil is going on, Mike?” A disgruntled Charles appeared behind you. “Unless you somehow managed to accidentally almost kill her, I hardly think this can't wait until morning.”

Marshall appeared next to Charles, with an equally unhappily surprised look on his face. “What did you do now?” His eyes dropped to your chest, where they rested for much longer than what you considered appropriate. He kept his gaze locked on you for so long, that you looked down yourself. Mike, in his infinite wisdom, had put you in a white shirt, that now showed two very obvious red dots at boob-height, and you watched Marshall as he clearly summoned every shred of restraint in his broad, imposing body to keep himself from dragging you back to his room — or maybe even just taking you right here, you weren't quite sure.

“I'm considering ‘right here’,” he growled at you.

“Am I stating the obvious when I say it would not be appreciated?” Sherlock said from the doorway as he dodged Mike's fist, which he’d still been slamming into the wooden door with nearly unperceivable speed and strength. “Might I inquire as to Mike, what the fuck?” For God knows what reason, hearing Sherlock swear was hot.

“She heard my thoughts,” Mike said breathlessly.

“Were you feeding?” Charles said, taking Mike's quick nod for an answer. “Well, there's your—”

“Mike doesn't hear thoughts, Charles,” Marshall reminded him quietly. “I do.”

“And you're sure it was a thought?” Sherlock asked carefully.

Mike nodded furiously. “Hell yeah. And not something I was even planning on saying out loud. So. That's Marshall's gift, right? She heard my thoughts using his gift while I was feeding. That's weird, right?”

“Uncommon? Yes,” Sherlock said with amusement to his voice. “Weird? Not particularly. Apparently, she has an aptitude for the gift.” He turned to you. “We might see if we could train it, if you're interested. Tomorrow. Now, please leave. I’d like to get back to bed.”

“I thought you didn't need to sleep,” you said with a smile.

“Oh, I don't think we interrupted his sleep, Sweetcheeks,” Mike said while his normal smile widened into a cheeky grin. Was he implying… The mental image of Sherlock, ehm… taking care of himself was almost too much.

“Mike…” you started, intending to tell him to stop joking, but as you watched Sherlock’s cheeks, which were suddenly flushed… Mike was right. That was… unexpected.

“Darling, I—” He stammered the words so softly you barely heard him.

“Goodnight, Sherlock,” you said with a smile. He wouldn't be apologizing for another damn thing. Not something as mundane as this. Not on your watch.

Sherlock was gone before you blinked, and Charles was nowhere in sight anymore, either. That left just you and Mike, and a once more very intense-looking Marshall in the otherwise empty hallway.

A heavy hand closed around your throat — not squeezing, just… holding you. The other, you saw from the corner of your eye — held Mike pinned to the wall.

“I don't care,” he said, his voice a deep, threatening growl, “that he gets laid three times for every single chance I get. I really don't.” Sure didn't sound like he didn't care… “But this is the second time he's paraded you around like this — bleeding and wet… Is that for him, love? Because he likes to spend his time sucking on your tits?” His hand moved from your throat to your chest, where he brutally squeezed the boob Mike had used as a juice box. You winced when he put his fingers directly over the bite. “Is it sore? I bet he didn't take care of that bite the way he knows he should before he rushed you out of his room, now did he?”

He pulled your shirt up with one hand, still pinning Mike to the wall with the other, and sealed his mouth over your nipple, covering the wounds Mike's teeth had left, and he ran his tongue over both marks with great care. Mike squirmed against the wall while he watched, powerless in Marshall's tight grasp. For the first time since the ambush, you took the time to take a good look at the way Marshall was holding him, and you noticed his feet didn't touch the floor.

“Mike,” he growled when he took his mouth off your breast again. “If you do this to me one more fucking time, I'm going to ask August for the keys to the" — he side-eyed you for a split second — “basement, where I'll chain you to the goddamn wall, and then I'll fuck her right in front of your eyes, understood?” Ehh, did you have a say in this? Not that what you'd be saying wouldn't be ‘yes, please', but still. It was nice to be consulted every now and again.

When Mike's feet hit the floor again, he grinned at Marshall. Bold choice, if you were perfectly honest. You probably would have gone with ‘cowering in fear of what he'd do to you', but alright. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he said casually before walking off, leaving you standing there with Marshall.

“Punk,” Marshall muttered under his breath before smiling at you and turning around.

“What's in the basement, Marshall?” you said as he started to walk away. “Marshall! What's. in. the. basement?”

He was already gone, of course — as was Mike — and you were standing in the unfamiliar-looking hallway all by yourself, telling yourself that it was physically impossible for the hallway to become longer the longer you looked at it. Mike hadn't picked one of the doors you saw, so you had to be in a different part of the house. A different floor, maybe.

“I'll take you back to Mike,” Sherlock's voice sounded softly behind you. “It's a bit of a maze, especially in the beginning.” He silently asked for permission to carry you, which you granted him, and within seconds you were at the right door.

Sherlock knocked before you could. “Girlfriend delivery,” he said, waiting for Mike to reply before he opened the door — probably a wise decision. You could never be certain what you'd find where Mike was concerned.

“Mike,” you said as you crawled into bed with him again and Sherlock left the room. “What's in the basement?”

“A wine cellar,” Mike said, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Some storage…”

“Mike!” you hissed.

“Now, if someone told you August had the keys to a special room in the basement of this house — as Marshall did — what would your very first guess be?” he teased.

“Sex dungeon,” you blurted out without thinking about it for so much as a second. On top of that being so completely on brand for August, it was also the only thing that would remotely make sense considering the conversation that had just taken place.

Mike grinned from ear to ear. “Duh. It's not technically his, by the way,” Mike told you. “And, before you ask, yes there are restraints that we — or… Me, specifically, apparently,” — he glared at you — “can't break. Why you wanna tie me up, babe?”

“Because I think it would be so fun to watch you squirm, especially since you’ll know exactly what I’ll so desperately want to do to you,” you said with an evil smile. Mike groaned — it was the sweetest sound on the planet, as far as you were concerned.

“You’re mean,” he muttered as he snuggled into your side, pulling the covers tight around him. “And Marshall is mean, too.”

“Why is he mean?” Your mouth morphed into a sweet smile involuntarily. “Because of the threats he made back there?”

“No, that sounded like a perfectly exciting night, actually.” Mike grinned up at you. “His stupid gift ruined my snack.”

#mike hellraiser fic #mike hellraiser #mike (hellraiser)#hellraiser mike #mike hellraiser fanfiction #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #walter marshall #hc sherlock #henry cavill sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes #august walker #august walker fanfiction #natural fic #naturalfic

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alexiswritingstuff · 2 years ago

Note

Just wanted to let you know that I've been binge reading all of your writings and I love them so much, keep up the good work! :)

I know you might have a lot of Gus requests, so it's okay if you put this one on the back burner for a bit. But I read the "Not So Scary After All" work and I was wondering if you could write a sort of sequel to it?

Maybe Jesse keeps trying to tell GN reader how obvious it is that he likes them. How he's seen him try not to smile when talking to reader, the softer tone of voice, things like that.

Reader obviously doesn't believe him and thinks that Gus is just being nice to his employees, especially the ones that are responsible for the cooks.

Anyways, after a few days of Jesse pestering the reader about it something happens to make them realize he might be right. I was thinking maybe they would make another mistake with the cook and Walter is there to see it. Maybe he gets mad, a little TOO mad, and Gus walks in 🤭 Or anything else works too! I just love the premise of a protective Gus that doesn't like to show how protective he actually is

First of all, thank you for the comment about my writings, I'm glad you have enjoyed them so far! Initially I didn't think about writing a part two, so I hope this does it justice, as well as that I hope it was what you were looking for!

Thank you for sending this in!

Not so scary after all. 2/2

Pairing: Gustavo x gender neutral reader.

Other appearances: Jesse Pinkman, Walter White.

Warnings: arguing, walter being a douche.

also be aware of spelling mistakes, or other errors. I do read these over but I can tend to miss stuff either way!

A/N: my brain has been fixated on other characters recently, so if these guys seem ooc then that may be why. It's hard to write scenes where gustavo is interested in another person because we barely get to see that in either show, so I also hope my portrayal of him just generally feels correct.

I hope you enjoy!

more Gustavo fics.

Taglist- @sukunamybeloved - @viviennemuerte - @miwagila - @marksassybanana

previous part.

It never mattered how many times you had gone through the same routine. Surprisingly, considering your line of work, waking up in the morning was always the most jarring part.

You could’ve had a great nights sleep, not woken up at any point, had no distractions or noisy neighbours. Yet the second you were in that car to get to the laundromat, it was like you had to force your eyes to stay open.

Which was apparently the same for Jesse too as there was a series of mumbles and grumbles that would fill the car every few seconds.

Each time you spared a glance to the passenger seat he would be leant further and further into window, his head bobbing whenever there was a difference in ground level or direction of the wheels.

It had you amused, but also a little concerned, “Did you wake up too early, or too late?”

Seeking no comfort from the hardness of the glass, and after his temple ended up smacking right into it, Jesse got himself to sit upright in a speed that closely resembled one of those stairlifts.

He groaned, having to make consistent attempts to keep his body from just slumping all together, “Both?” His hands raised to his head, the sides of his fingers beginning to rub at his eyes as if it would rid them of their tiredness.

In all honesty, outside of the cooking sessions and other shenanigans you found yourself in, you and Jesse never really... hung out. There would be times where you had lunch together, or had to show up to his house if there was something to drop off.

But that was mostly it.

And there wasn’t exactly a reason as to why. You had absolutely nothing against Pinkman, it was like the opposite. The more you spent time with him, the more you felt like some kind of guardian watching over some kid. Even if he also was an adult.

“You had breakfast, though, right?” Your gaze was trained on the lane ahead despite your ongoing conversation.

You had just turned onto a state road, meaning that, regardless of it being early in the morning, people were up and about. Trying to get to their jobs.

It always made it seem busier than it was.

At first, in response to your question, Jesse simply emitted another mumble of something. He was thinking, the intensity in which he rubbed at his eyes increasing for a moment, and then his hands dropped. “Oh,”

“Shit, I don’t... I don’t know.”

You supressed the urge to sigh. It had already happened a few times. Depending on what he did the night before, there would be some mornings where his mind was rattled enough that he would almost forget where he even was, so.

You came prepared.

“Well, I guess luck is on your side today.” you commented, flexing your fingers against the grips of the steering wheel, “There should be a sandwich or something in the back.”

By now Jesse’s head was leaning into the headrest, definitely having the same problem of trying to keep his eyes open like you did. The heat outside probably wasn’t a helpful factor either. “Seriously?”

You didn’t want to take your attention off of the road. The cars in front were starting to slow, and you needed to keep note of the distance from the ones at the back. “Check.” you told him, adjusting the rear view mirror for better visibility.

Jesse sort of rolled his head to the side after a moment, his chin almost knocking into the bone of his shoulder as his gaze cast onto the few items that were in the back seats.

He lazily blinked for a good few seconds, his eyes trying to adjust to the redirection of a sunlight beam. And then he saw it. Right in the middle.

A brown bag.

“No way.”

The next move he made was so fast that the seatbelt strapped around him had immediately stalled against his body, attempting to keep him in place at the assumption of sudden danger.

But that wasn’t enough to stop him at all.

He pushed against it once, then twice, and then one more time before simply manoeuvring himself around the belt so that the top half would basically be protecting the car seat instead of him.

When Jesse leaned himself between your seat and his, it was so much harder to keep your attention on the road. He was reaching out, arm extended as far as it could go and waving almost madly, until eventually, he grabbed the bag.

Jesse practically had to shove himself backwards to sit upright again, but soon he was able to resume his previous position with a big sigh of relief. Your head could only shake.

Now, there was this sound a rustling paper that filled the entire car as you moved onto the accompanying lane. Something that was definitely not supporting your concentration. “Damn.”

His voice was muffled, the noises coming out of his mouth barely even sounding like a word which in turn made you send him a look.

He had finally gotten to the sandwich. “You make this?”

“Nah, I had too many errands to run.” you informed with a slight sigh, finally beginning to let yourself relax in your seat, “Would’ve done it if I had the time, but I think that is better anyway.”

Jesse didn’t even have to speak for you to know his response. He had taken another bite, nodding his head just slightly in proper approval. If his eyes were closed it would look like he was in pure bliss.

After relentlessly chewing for a hot minute, he attempted to swallow it down, “I didn’t-- I didn’t take you as an early riser.” Yet his voice was still almost unintelligible.

“Well, believe it or not, other people are in fact active in the mornings.” you pointed out, slightly leaning to the side for further emphasis on who the comment was aimed at in a way that had Jesse rolling his eyes.

You swear you saw a clump of crumbs fly from his mouth when he next spoke, “Yeah, yeah-- You sure your too many errands wasn’t just you making sure that you looked good for a certain Fring?”

Your head snapped in his direction in a way that had looking back to the road immediately after, and probably almost gave you whiplash. But you saw it either way.

That damn grin had taken over his lips.

Again.

“Please don’t do this right now.”

Jesse had to clear his throat to stop himself from almost choking, “Aw come on, man, it’s-- There’s nothing to be ashamed of if you did.” Your head shook like it had done before, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

It was always so stupid to you how the indirect mention of someone made your body react the way it did. You were only trying to get to work, yet your heart was acting as if you had just gone for a run.

“But I do.” The look you sent Jesse almost had him wanting to put his hands up if he wasn’t so focused on his sandwich, “What? I do-- Look, I may not have that much experience, or whatever, but there is totally something going on.”

“Definitely on his end at least.” He moved the sandwich around in his hands, trying to locate the best part to bite as he had finally swallowed the last one, “I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve seen him give you the look.”

Your eyebrows furrowed within seconds, “The... The what now?” You tried to turn in his direction for confirmation, but he seemed a bit too busy to notice your movement.

Due to a junction being up ahead, your foot had moved onto the foot break, watching the lights fully change the closer you drew.

“The look.” Jesse finally repeated, his mouth full all over again in a way that needed real concentration to understand the words coming out of it, “Yeah, he gives you the look, like, all the time.”

Soon, the car in front of you had fully stopped, and then so did yours as you put it into first gear, keeping your feet on the first two pedals.

The moment the car had stopped moving, you turned to Jesse within seconds, eyebrows furrowed more than they had ever been. “What is the look?”

Pinkman gave you a simple glance at first, thinking that you were just messing around as he kept munching away... But no matter how much time went by, you didn't move. Still watching him.

His chewing slowed when his head turned back in your direction. He just blinked for a moment. “You don’t know... You don’t know what the look is?”

Your chin lowered, your eyelids slightly doing the same, “Does it sound like I know what it is?”

“Okay, but... how?” Despite Jesse’s previous complete interest in his sandwich, it lowered with his hands to his lap. There was utter confusion written all over his face while he remained smacking away. “How do you not-- How old are you?”

Your attention went to the road ahead all over again, the back of your head sinking into the headrest as a huff left your lips, “Older than you.” you pointed out, trying to sound more authoritative, but that just seemed to spark an already lit flame.

“Then how do you not see it, huh? I mean, even I can tell that it’s pretty obvious-- And not just because of the look either,” Jesse fully twisted in his seat so that he faced you, “He like... He wants to actually, like, talk to you, and shit-- I’ve seen him smile-- genuinely smile at you, okay?"

“Now, if he was doing it to me? I would... Man, I would be terrified-- But it’s you, it’s... different.” You were trying so hard not to shake your head again, but Jesse’s voice practically being right in your right ear was making it a lot more difficult. “It’s something else--”

“It’s not...” You regripped the steering wheel, “You do realise we’re talking Gustavo Fring, right?” Your head attempted to turn back to Jesse, though your eyes were trying to keep the attention on the road as one of the final vehicles seemed to cross through the junction.

“Exactly!” Jesse practically threw his arms up, almost losing his grasp on the sandwich in the process, “You should be caring about this more than you do.”

Your head shook as your gaze fully went back to the road, your foot readying to release the clutch while your fingers tapped against the steering wheel in anticipation.

You were trying to find something to zone in on, something to distract yourself from the kid sitting in your passenger seat as he was still eagerly trying to get you to see the things the way he did. But you weren’t giving it to him.

“Fine then.” Jesse reached behind him, grabbing the top half of the seatbelt, pulling it until it was in front of him again, before he ducked himself beneath.

“But I’m telling you, Y/n.” It was back, slinging diagonally across his torso by the time he was seated properly, and also by the time the lights had finally turned green.

“You’ll see.”

There was something about this day that was starting to feel a little familiar.

You and Jesse had arrived ages ago. You had gone down the windy red stairs, did the whole thing of taking off unnecessary clothing so that you wouldn’t completely boil in the obnoxiously yellow protective suit you would put on next.

And at first, once you were all geared up, the two of you stood in front of the machines. Your heads were raised, eyes cast up to the walkway above as you awaited the arrival of your usual partner at their usual time...

But the door never opened.

There was no proper estimate for how long the two of you just stayed waiting as you had set your watch to the side, and the clock was on the other side of the room, however, there was one thing you knew for sure. Someone was late.

Eventually, the two of you were trying to compensate, finding something useful to do while giving the benefit of the doubt that maybe it was just tough traffic or something going on that made them lose track of time.

Though, the ability to sympathise got smaller and smaller the more minutes began to turn into full on hours.

You found yourself at your usual table with your hand supporting the weight of your head, attempting to occupy your mind by looking over the paperwork from passed cooks. A habit that you only recently developed.

“Dude,” you heard somewhere to your side before there was an exasperated sigh, and a quick creaking of a chair, “What the hell is taking him so long?”

Earlier, Jesse had taken one of the other wheeled chairs from the table connected to yours and had rolled somewhere, enough so that you could only see him from the corner of your eye.

His body was slumped back, the seat beneath him creaking with every move that he made. And considering that he didn’t have anything to do, that was like every. Single. Second.

He had tried out the difference created when he would shift his weight, tested what it would feel like to have his legs hanging over the left side of the chair and then the right, he had pushed his feet onto the floor to roll himself backwards and forwards against the smooth tiles.

And now, as apparently none of that had seemed to have settle his mind, Jesse had resorted to zipping and unzipping the protective suit he was so ready to take off by now. Over, and over... And over again. “Okay,”

“That’s it.”

The pencil held in your gasp was cast to the side of the notepad, you were barely looking at this point, before your hands moved to the edge of the table so that you could push against it enough that your chair started to roll.

You stood up, winding round the seat that was still on the move as you began to walk towards one of the pathways between the machines. Jesse fully planted his feet on the ground, “Yo, Y/n, where are you going?”

Your fingers grasped onto the zip of your suit and you yanked it down as far as you could without having to bend for the rest, beginning to pulling your arms out one after the other moments after.

You moved round that damn settling tank and soon ended up at the wall where you would keep or hang up your loose items. “I...” you began, your voice becoming strained as you bent down to free your feet of those big welly boots, “am going to find out what the hell is going on.”

The squeak of a chair echoed somewhere to the back of the room. “Well, don’t-- Don’t leave me in here by myself.”

Finally, after one last tussle, your, once worn, protective suit was now sprawled on the ground beside the clothing rack. You moved to your usual shoes, putting either feet in their respective ware before tying the laces to make sure they wouldn’t fall off.

Before Jesse could even appear by your side to complete the same process, you were on the move once again, directing towards those windy red stairs that always made you feel like you were going to fall up and/or down them.

“Y/n, wait, dude, wait-- Just give me a minute.” You could hear the hurried rustling of plastic suit echoing through the steps you took on the metal staircase.

Eventually, when your movements had allowed you to arrive at the cat walk, you found yourself complying to Jesse’s words... While the man himself was still trying, and failing, to get the suit off.

It gave you a moment to catch a breath you hadn’t been able to take all day. You were stood high, looking down at the problems below, and not drowning neck deep in it like you usually did.

A deep breath sucked into your nostrils as you let your eyes fall closed, the air of the lab starting to cool the warmth that had festered across your skin--

A sharp whistle squealed through from your left before it bounced around each wall one after the other.

Your eyes had snapped open as soon as the sound appeared, but it wasn’t until your head had started to turn that your brain realised what it had come from.

It was the door.

Your body twisted in the direction of the man who was almost stumbling across the cat walk, a series of huffs and puffs spluttering from his mouth that would have you worrying any other day.

But as of now, all you did was cross your arms over your chest.

“Yo, Mr. White! What the hell took you so long, dude?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he began through a slight wheeze that ended with him doing this horrendous cough. And once he was about three steps in front of you, he stilled his apparently over exhausted body, using a hand to shift his weight onto the railing, “There was... car trouble, and stuff with the kids, you-- you know kids.”

“You would think, maybe, after the first one that it was going to get easier and then...”

In the midst of Mr. White stabilising himself, his head had turned to the right in at attempt to locate Jesse, which wasn’t hard to do considering the fact that he was still taking off that damn suit, to further emphasis his... guilt?

But instead, after he did a sort of double take, he began to slowly face you once again, “Why aren’t any of the machines on, why... Why aren’t you wearing your suit?”

“We were waiting for you. I was just about to try and find at least someone to tell us where you were.”

“Wait... Wait a minute,” Mr. White started, holding his hands up while he took a step closer. “You didn’t start?” His chin slightly lowered in a way that made his eyes peer at you over his glasses.

“No?” you stated simply, your eyebrows furrowing at the sudden change to his demeanour, “After last time... We didn’t think you wanted us to do it by ourselves.”

“But that was-- That was last time, Y/n.” With every word that the man spoke, his hands rose higher and higher until they were inches away from touching his face, “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?”

The urge to scoff was stronger than ever, and you had to hold it back more than you ever had in your life, “I think I should be asking you that question.”

The man before you began shaking his head in a way that was almost not visible. “I told you... I was having problems with my car.” For a moment his expression remained the way it was, a visible attempt at holding back what you were guessing was anger.

But then it failed.

“I have... a family to take care of...” His hands dropped to his sides. When he next spoke the corners of his mouth slightly downturned like there was utter distaste for the words coming out of his mouth, “They are not going to be put at expense because, again, you weren’t able to do a simple job.”

Regardless of how loud it usually was when someone walked up the windy stairs, right now, as Jesse began to do just that, it was barely audible to your ears. The sound fading more and more the longer you stared at the man before you. “Guys, can we just--”

“I am doing my job just fine, Mr. White.” you started up with this lack of emotion to your voice, trying to make it as clear as possible that you wanted to get this over and done with, “We just didn’t want to do another batch all by ourselves, simply, because you couldn’t be bothered to show up.” Though it seemed your mouth had other plans.

There was something that almost satisfactory when you saw a side of his face twitch. But soon, it was one that ended with this sort of smile curling at his lips, his eyebrows raising more than you had ever seen in your time working with him. “Oh.”

“So, you want me to apologise for making a singular mistake? Is that it?” He took yet another step towards you, “You know what, how about we count how many times you have made-- No, caused, a mistake, hmm?”

You couldn’t count the amount of voices that were telling you to take a step back, to move away the closer he got to stand directly in front of you, “But that wasn’t only my fault-- There’s a big difference between actually trying and just not showing up.”

Your feet remained planted on the ground beneath. Your arms were held tighter than ever across your torso as you tried to maintain the blankest expression possible.

“Dude, both of you just... just chill out, please.” Jesse tried to insist as he walked up the last few steps, but no one paid any attention to his words, “We can-- We can work this out--”

“You allowed a contamination,” Mr. White began, narrowing his eyes as if in disbelief, “How did you-- Did they not teach you to read, or listen, to instructions in school?”

“My education has nothing to do with this.” you insisted without missing a beat. And regardless of your attempts to keep your composure, it was inevitable that something began slipping into your voice.

You had been up early.

You had been running back and forth to make sure that certain things were sorted for certain people, had to drive all the way to downtown to pick up Jesse and then all the way back up to get here. To work.

And then, while at work, you weren’t even able do your damn job because your other partner, that was supposed to be there at a specific time by contract, just didn’t show up.

Which then lead you and Jesse to have to stand and do absolute jack shit for hours on end.

Walter just shook his head again, even raising his hands like he was about to shove you or something, though he might have wanted to simply point a finger, “Well, apparently it does, because if you still aren’t competent enough to follow something so basic, then--”

“What is going on here?”

Within the next second, the man in front of you had twisted round in a way that almost gave you whiplash just from watching. He stepped to the side, and moved backwards until he was practically next to you. “Oh, Gus, I, uh... We were just... Slow start.”

But, of course, he was still a little ahead.

Your feet, however, hadn’t moved an inch. In fact the only move you made was to let your arms finally fall free to your sides as you stared onwards.

It was Gustavo. He was stood in the doorframe, one hand pressing against the weighted metal so that he had enough time to take in his surroundings. And then he took the final step inside.

It was only when the door closed behind him that you realised you hadn’t even heard it open in the first place.

The lab was back to what it had been minutes ago. Silent. No sound at all filtering throughout the entire room.

Gustavo stilled himself not far from the door he had walked through, but enough so that you could feel his presence as well as see it. His arms were unmoving by his sides, a trait that would’ve carried out through his entire body if he hadn’t started moving his head.

Like Walter had done when he arrived, Gustavo looked at the room below. He studied it, looked from one section to the other while noting the quietness that was effecting even him.

And then he turned back to the people across from him, the expression on his face unwavering, “Why is that? There’s nothing in the machines.”

“You know, ex-- exactly.” the man to your side suddenly spoke up, snapping your attention from the other guy you wanted to look at a little longer. “I had... countless problems with a lot of things this morning, and I wasn’t able to arrive on time.”

Walter sort of took a step forward, but instead of what you would naturally think of when someone carried out such a movement, he didn’t properly face Gustavo.

He stood side on, his body turned towards the machines so he could look at you or his boss with a simple movement of his head. And as of now, you seemed to be his main target. “Apparently they couldn’t be bothered to start the batch themselves.”

“That’s not true.” You mirrored his stance, faced directly towards him, instead of the man who was just trying to seek answers, as your eyebrows furrowed as much as they could.

Walter tilted his head, “You sure?” he asked, using the most condescending voice that would of set you off had you already lost the grasp on your, slowly dissipating, self control.

“Yes, I don’t understand--” Your hand rose to your face, fingers pressing into the skin beneath before dragging down to your chin. And then they dropped. You took in a deep breath. “Look... I admit it, sure, we could have started the cook. But.”

“Me and Jesse both thought it was smarter to wait after the previous mistake,” you began, emphasising your point by gesturing to the dude who was now stood behind, and his eyes sort of widened at the sudden attention.

This time it was you who took the step forward. “But yet again,” You made sure to hold yourself back from blinking as you stared right at the man who was trying so hard not to cut you off, your fists clenched at your sides. “You. Weren’t. Here.”

Your heart was thudding in your ears, a sound louder than any other thing in the room. The exhaustion was rampant through your body, continuously attacking system, and at this point testing your patience that had already become thin.

The ability to control anything was about one minute away from collapsing.

“Why were you late, Mr. White?”

When Gustavo’s voice caught your ears, you hadn’t even bothered to look his way despite the fact that Walter did. In fact, he took the chance to move away from you, which almost made him bump into the other railing.

“Car troubles, and, uh... family stuff, too, you know... all that.” he informed, his voice and the look of his face switching into one that you could instantly tell was the fakest attempt of trying to get sympathy.

“And you didn’t inform anyone of these... troubles?”

Your head turned in about a second, your gaze snapping to the man who hadn’t moved a singular inch since the last time you properly saw him. His attention was only on Walter, his eyes now slightly narrowed.

“What...” Mr. White started, the shock clear within his voice and the expression on his face, “Are you... Are you trying to say that this is my fault?”

“I am not saying anything, Mr. White.” Gustavo’s turned in the mans direction with such slowness that had a look of regret taking over anything else that was threatening to appear on Walters face. And once he stilled, he had even slightly tilted it to the side, “I am simply asking questions to understand why a job hasn’t been completed.”

Walter let out this sort of scoff of a sound as he gestured with his hands like before, “Well, then your asking the wrong person, Gus.”

He pointed towards you, this time not even bothering to look unless it was to make sure his finger was actually aimed in your direction, “They... They have been here for who knows how long, I... I-- I mean, the batch could’ve finished by now, if they just--”

“You are putting the blame... on them?” Gustavo’s voice was low, deep in pitch that it was almost gravelly and harsh to any ears that heard it. There was no direct tone, or emotion clear within it. But paired with the slow step forward, anyone could tell that it wasn’t good.

“You are putting the blame on a person who was actively trying to solve a problem that you created... because you weren’t competent enough to make a phone call?”

You were use to his intimidation tactics. In all honesty, usually, it seemed even more affective when he wasn’t using them, like when he wore that smile that never really reached his eyes.

But this...

This was different.

When Gustavo wanted to intimidate someone, or remind them of their place in the bigger picture. He had relationships to maintain, an act to keep up so that nothing could expose him and/or his business, so he never risked insulting a person in case it would backfire, create unnecessary problems.

Gustavo Fring wasn’t a man who directly insulted someone unless he was going to gain something from it... Well, apparently, until now.

For the next few seconds it seemed that Mr. White couldn’t find the exact reaction he had. His lips twitched almost every way that they could, his mouth would open and close again and again like he was mimicking a fish, all the while his head began to shake once again, “I don’t... I don’t know what to say-- I can’t... Gus, I just--”

“I have heard all I needed.” There were no movements that accompanied his words. No change to his voice a part from a mild show of a tested patience. Gustavo just stared at the man before him, unblinking, “You still have plenty time to cook.”

“You can’t be serious--”

“That’s what you came here to do... Is it not?” Gustavo pointed out simply, his head tilting to the side in a way that almost made him look like a puppy. But his face said all that it needed to.

Walter sort of cowered, avoiding the mans gaze as he took a moment to think, “I... I-- Well... Yes, but--”

In about a second, though there was almost nothing displayed on Gustavo’s face, everything sort of... dropped? His eyelids lowered in a way that wasn’t enough to hide his eyes but it was still visible, his jaw unclenched, his lips almost looked like they were turning down the way.

But again. Not once did he blink.

“Then cook.”

For a solid ten seconds, there was just utter silence. Someone could have drop a pin on the other side of the room, and it would still echo like any other sound. No one moved. No one twitched. No one spoke.

Walter took in a deep breath, his shoulders deflating when it made its way back out. And then he turned, beginning to do just as Gustavo said this time without any argument.

But the moment you started to do to the same thing--

“Not you.”

You froze. Your body hadn’t even managed to twist yet, so after sending a look to Jesse who sent one right back, you simply rocked back on your feet, resuming the same position you were in before.

His eyes were only on yours. The first time he had fully looked at you since he had entered the room.

“We have... other matters to discuss.”

After you left the room, it was practically silent when you began to walk.

There was the usual sounds that occurred from the machines within the laundromat, and the workers who you were still not sure knew about the giant meth lab beneath there feet, but between you and Gustavo there was nothing.

No exchange of words and barely even the sound of your own footsteps.

He was a few steps ahead of you, which may have been one of the main reasons, as he lead you across the paths that had big machines towering over you on each side.

There would be a few moments were you had to duck, or even completely manoeuvre, around certain objects that were hung, either needing to dry or they were connected to a moving system that would bring clothes from one section to another.

You had no idea where you were going. The second the two of you had officially exited the lab, his lips had became sealed. He just started walking, and of course, you only had one response to that.

Your gaze pretty much remained on Gustavo’s back no matter how far you went, only fleeting to make sure that you weren’t going to bump into anything, as you followed the man in front of you like a lost duckling... Though, you felt more like a child getting ready to be told off.

Eventually, after stopping yourself from getting caught up in the thoughts swirling through your mind, you found yourself walking out of the big vertical door. The entrance of the laundromat.

If your heart wasn’t pounding before it sure was now. And no matter how badly you wanted to just focus on the feeling of fresh air after being stuck in an underground room for what felt like, and probably was, about five hours... Gustavo stopped walking.

He was stood at the edge of the paved platform, hands moving to clasp behind his back as he resumed that usual straight posture.

Your steps grew slower the more close you got to standing by his side. You wanted to gage his mood, predict what was about to happen or what he was going to say, which was a bit difficult considering that you could only see the back of his head.

You cleared your throat when you had arrived to the right of him. Your eyes were slightly narrowed, adjusting to the sudden presence of the sun, while you gently leaned back and forth on your feet.

“Sir, I... I’m really sorry about this... Again,” you had begun, but almost immediately your speech planned in your head seemed to have fallen apart.

You turned your head to the side, trying to properly convey your apology through your face more than your words. “I know it doesn’t help the business, but I really, really, don’t know why this keeps happening--”

“Y/n.”

You had already been looking at Gustavo throughout your words. And maybe it was because you were too caught up in your mind, or because originally the man before you had been gazing into the distance with the usual expression that barely gave you anything to work with.

But now he was looking right back at you.

“Yes?” you answered subconsciously in a way that had your mouth snapping shut immediately after realising that you didn’t need to actually do that.

This time, Gustavo’s chin lowered, “I’m not going to scold you, Y/n.” His gaze was the most gentle you had ever seen it, along with sound of his voice. He may have said the words simply, and matter of factly, but his face told you otherwise.

You sort of just stood there for a moment, blinking at him. “You... You’re...” And then your eyebrows furrowed all over again, your body turning so that you faced him directly, “You’re not?”

Gustavo kept looking at you, and finally, since thatsituation with Mr. White, you weren’t presented with an expression of judgement. It wasn’t a look that visibly told that they thought whatever they were seeing was utter stupidity.

He took in a breath, letting his eyes fall back on the busy town ahead for a split second, before they were back on your own, “I want you to go home.”

His voice was lighter, the expression on his face no longer holding the tension that had clung to his skin.

Your lips parted, even if no sound initially came out. You stared back at him for a moment, your eyes a little wider than they were before, almost unblinking, “Did I mess up that badly?”

Gustavo’s eyebrows furrowed so quickly that you hadn’t caught onto it until he turned his body in your direction, “Forgive my phrasing.” he started, his hands remaining behind his back no matter the change of position, “This is not a punishment.”

With his next words, Gustavo made sure that you were looking at him, right into his eyes, just in case his meaning was conveyed through his voice, “You are not in trouble for the wrongdoings of another man.”

... Were you missing something? Why would Gustavo take you out of the lab?

I mean, sure, you made the deduction that not starting the batch might’ve not been such a great idea, and honestly at some point expected to get a good talking too because of it. Maybe it would be the final straw...

But here you were. Theman himself, the big boss, stood right in front of you. Directly telling you that you’re not in trouble.

“Then... I’m going to have to say that I don’t understand, Sir.” The muscles beneath your brows were getting a good work out from consistently changing between being normal and then furrowed within, practically, every thirty seconds, “We still have a batch to do, a deadline to follow.”

Influenced yet again by a man stood before you, “And who is that for?”

Your whole body felt like it wanted to deflate, fall limp and just collapse on the ground. This time it wasn’t in anger, or fear, or annoyance. It was because after everything, you could exhale the nerves that had clung to your insides. There was no use for them now.

You lightly nodded your head, the fact of not being in trouble officially processing in a way that had your gaze lowering, “... You.”

Gustavo wanted to smile. He wanted to display his pride of finally cracking the code that was your mind, having created even a bit of equal understanding, but he could still see the ghost of the previous expression that held your face hostage. The genuine concern over possible harming his business.

And him.

“I am not asking you to leave because I think that you are bad at your job, or that you don’t do anything for this business-- Because that would be entirely wrong.” he started up with this new voice that was difficult to ignore, “I am simply saying that you have the day off.”

“It is... normal in a workplace, is it not?”

By the time your eyes met Gustavo’s, your brows had furrowed once again, though now, it was for a very different reason, “I mean... Yes-- But not in this business, just...”

There was a huff of air that passed through your lips. Theexhaustion from earlier was presenting itself back into your system, making the want to talk become a lot less than before, “Let me-- Let me go back in there, we can work, we can... we can get it done.”

Gustavo’s head began shaking before you had even finished your sentence, “I can’t do that.”

“And why not?” you questioned, leaning back slightly so that you could fully take in his demeaner, analyse any look that took over his face, “I thought you said that I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“You didn’t.” he insisted almost immediately, the expression he wore going blank the way it usually did. But now wasn’t the time. “Then...” You took in yet another breath to cut off your words, trying to suppress the urges to sigh, scoff, or the sudden want to raise your voice, “Why?”

To say this day felt long was truly an understatement. Things just kept happening one after the other and still you were left in the dark. No answer as to why things progressed into the situations they had.

“Y/n, I am not... risking the loss of more time to arguing.” It was like you could visibly see the words he chose to say. The pure caution, decisions careful enough so that he wouldn’t set off the things he could see getting ready in your eyes, “I know that if you go back in there, Mr. White will not... let go. Not unless I place someone in there to stand and watch at all times.”

“All I am telling you is that you are free to go while I... sort things out.” Gustavo somehow made himself stand taller, trying to prove the confidence in which was already heard in his voice and to also prepare for the possibility of you finally reacting in the way that your body had wanted to for hours.

But despite what he had envisioned playing out, or tried to predict, it was pretty much the opposite. In fact, the only proper reaction to his words was your shoulders deflating, ridding your muscles of its constant worry.

And then you crossed your arms over your chest, sniffing as you did so, “And what about Jesse... Mr. White? What-- What about them?” you questioned, waiting for the words to settle before you looked back into those other pair of eyes, only to find that the look from earlier had repossessed his face, “It may not seem like it, but I assure you, Y/n.”

“Mr. Pinkman and Mr. White can handle it themselves.”

For the first time throughout the entire day, you felt the want to smile. “Okay then.” You nodded your head once, your grip tightening on your arms as you took a step backwards, “Thank you, uh... Mr. Fring. It seems you have saved me again.”

“Gus. Call me Gus, and please, there is no need to thank me.” Gustavo started up before you could even try to turn in the direction of your car, “It comes under being an employee.”

Your body stilled after about one more steps backwards, your eyes narrowing at the man before you, playfully, “Then how come I haven’t heard you getting protective when someone else makes a mistake?”

Gustavo mirrored the look on your face, “I wasn’t... I wasn’t being... protective?” In his case, however, he wasn’t doing it in a teasing sort of manner, he was just genuinely confused at the comment. “I simply understood the situation and acted accordingly.”

Your arms loosened in your hold until they lowered to your sides once again, “And yet you defended me.” If you were close enough to Gustavo you would probably have started circling him, “Even though I was in the wrong... both times.”

Gustavo unfurrowed his brows, “You weren’t in the wrong just because some man has an incorrect idea of authority… and a very poor concept of time.” His tone was the flattest you had ever heard it. There was no emotion behind it until the words of... slight insult.

The urge to smile grew stronger that had you pressing your lips together to stop yourself from letting out a laugh. “Still,” Though, after a moment, you managed to compose yourself, “If you hadn’t arrived when you did...”

Gustavo huffed air through his nose, bowing his head a tad before he let it shake a few times. When he looked back up it was clear that he was trying to hold back whatever was wanting to take over his face, but you could see it in his eyes.

“Go home.”

There was this feeling of giddiness begging to erupt in your chest. It spread a warmth to every part of your body until it was a collective feeling. It caught you of guard, causing the smile you were trying to hide begin to curl at your lips.

So, after a sharp breath and a nod as a thanks, you sort of ducked away, twisting yourself around so that you could make your way towards your car.

However, the nearer that you got to the vehicle, it seemed there was a thought pushing itself further and further to the centre of your mind. It may have been more of a feeling, as you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted to go back to your house.

I mean, sure, being able to take a nice long shower, grab a bite to eat, and completely flop on your bed sounded... Well, pretty nice actually.

But the next session for a batch was now going to be days away.

Days from your work and a certain Fring.

You had completely stilled about a step away from your car. There was a quiet breath that huffed through your nose, one that only you could hear, “You know what, actually.”and then you turned on your heel, the concrete practically scuffing under your shoe. “I’ve worked for you for quite some time now, and yet…”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been inside your restaurant.”

The man your eyes managed to focus on seemed to be closer than he was the last time you saw him. A fact that made your brain almost completely miss the words that came out of his mouth. “Well, it’s not an obligation.”

There was something about the look on his face. Something about the way he pressed his lips together immediately after he finished speaking. He may have assured that the visit wasn’t needed, but... there might have still been a want.

“What hours is it open?” you asked, the sound of your voice almost echoing through the parking area, even if the noises from the active laundromat were louder.

Gustavo’s head slightly rose after a moment, one of his brows slightly twitching as he processed your question. And then he cleared his throat, “That would depend on the day.” he informed, readjusting the hands he still held behind his back.

You hummed in response, letting your gaze fall into the distance as you thought.

Honestly, after the past few hours you could barely remember what part of the week you were in right now. So, instead, you thought back to what a usual week would look like.

What was the day that was perfectly set between the times you would possibly be able to see Gustavo at work? Right in the middle?

“How about Thursday?” you suggested, now watching as Gustavo began to make his way across the concrete, slightly nodding his head, “Then... Seven to ten, I believe.”

“All right,” you breathed out, the speed in which your heart beat increased the more the man approached. “One less lunch to plan for the week.” You practically gulped as you reached backwards, fingers patting against the cool metal of the vehicle for a moment until they located the handle.

Gustavo stilled himself about three steps in front of you, the look on his face signalling that he was thinking about something as he wasn’t making direct eye contact, “Actually... I would suggest to come around dinner time.”

Just as you were about to tug on the handle, your hand froze, along with pretty much every other part of your body.

The man was now looking right at you, his voice sort of timid in a way that caught you even more off guard. And apparently himself too. “It’s... more quiet.” He cleared his throat, “Less people around.”

Your arm slowly moved back to your side, releasing the warm handle from any sort of grasp.

There was a fight going on in your chest. A want to give into the urge of running away like you would’ve done in a situation close to this as a kid. But you weren’t a child anymore, far from it.

It took a good moment for any sound to be able to roll off of your tongue. And as soon as something eventually had, it was like your lungs remembered how to properly function. “Will you be there?”

You felt younger. The two of you may have been stood pretty much right in front of the other, yet neither of you could maintain eye contact longer than a few seconds before you collectively had to look away, no matter how confident either one of you tried to seem.

Gustavo cleared his throat, though it sounded like it had barely done anything. “I believe so.” he finally confirmed, and regardless of the fact that his voice was still quiet, there was this tone that took over his words.

“Well, good...” That giddy feeling returned, even if it had probably never left. “I think I probably would still go if you weren’t there, but... it would be a lot less... fun.”

The man before you let the slightest smile curl at a side of his mouth, “Well, we wouldn’t want that now would we?” He sounded more breathy this time, a natural progression from his already quiet voice. But it wasn’t because of nerves, or a reaction of his lungs, which you had initially thought. It was intentional.

“Not at all.” Your voice in question was more full than his, however, there was this slight whisper to it, as if Gustavo should be the only person allowed to hear it.

“Then it’s settled,” he began, slightly lowering his head in away that had your back pressing into your car. His normal tone had seeped back through his words like he was back in boss mode. But not quite Gustavo Fring just yet. “How does... eight o’clock sound? Unless you eat earlier?”

Your head shook practically without a second of hesitance. The ability to move your lips was barely thereso you resorted to moving to the side, finally pulling on the handle of your car door until it swung out far enough that you could stand behind it.

You could see Gustavo raise his eyebrows just the slightest as the door had created a sort of separation, and it had you biting back a grin. “It’s perfect.” you insisted, trying to sound as neutral as possible despite the, possibly, clear ways you felt at that moment.

And then you lowered yourself into the car, having to slightly shifted backwards a little bit to properly get into the drivers seat before you swung your legs inside.

Your hand grasped the inside of your door, your fingers making certain that they had a good grip, before your eyes landed on the figure through the glass of the window that hadn’t moved an inch.

And then you smiled.

“Gus.”

#gustavo fring #gus fring #gustavo fring x reader #breaking bad x reader #breaking bad #brba #gender neutral reader

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low-budget-korra · 3 days ago

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Comments on Yellowjackets s03e01-02

- Dear lord what an opening, I thought Mari was done already 😭 but yes girlies, have a bit of fun please. And Damn, the girls are thriving.

- Shauna is so bitter bc the girls moved on and are copying better than her. Girl just because guilt consumed you, doesn't mean it has to consume the others. Sure, they did Jackie wrong but you were the one that kicked her out so ...

Anyway let's talk about her cuz the Shauna and Jackie was REAL, they did had feelings for each other. And damn is so more tragic now that this is practically confirmed and canon. Part of Shauna guilty towards Jackie related stuff is because it is an unclosed and unfinished business/trauma, that it will keep that way bc Jackie is gone. Once Shauna realized her true feelings for Jackie, it was already too late. And this (plus the fact that she killed and ate her) haunts her forever. Seriously, there's so many layers of affection, envy, jealousy, friendship, love, trauma, guilt...in their relationship that's one of the most complex, intriguing and fascinating parts of the show, at least for me.

And the fact that Melissa is "just like Jackie"(white, blonde, light and soft eyes...) makes me think that Shauna will eventually hallucinate and start to see Jackie in her. Which means that Ella Purnell may make an appearance later in the season, which would be so cool

Just a side note, I imagine the actress that plays Melissa (who barely had any lines), reading the script for s3 and realizing she will be big in this one. I would be so happy.

- Mari is such a hater lmao. Actually, her "hater urges" is bigger than her survival instincts and I respect her for that bc why in hell from everyone she could have beef with it, she chose Shauna 😭?

And if I was her I would be so relieved that coach is gay, bc if he was straight I would rather stay in that hole than go anywhere with him with my hands tied up.

I like coach Ben, he always tried to help the girls, tried to be the voice of reason among the caos so I don't get all the hate he receives from the fandom

What the hell are those things he found? I hope we finally get some answers about that fuckin wilderness and the ghost(?) Tai keeps seeing it. Tbh I would like it better if it's all from their head like, smt they created to help them to cope with everything that happened out there. And maybe that forest was some training camp before. That would explain the old supplies, the cabin, the plane.

- I so hope Van doesn't die this season. Taivan are so perfect, both the young and older versions. The dinner scene was so cute. And I think that if there's something supernatural going on, the wilderness took the offer, a life for a life. I thought it was Nat life for Van's but now I think it was the waiter.

I wanna know why dafuq they split up before, they are so perfect for each other. I'm sorry Tai's wife but that's the truth.

- I have the feeling that we really may have a part 2 of the doomcoming party. They wouldn't give that dialogue of those mean girls talking shit specifically about orgy without something like that happening for real. Idk, they should be talking about the cannibalism instead of that.

-Poor Misty tho. I have a love/hate relationship with her especially bc she was the one that destroyed the box back in s1, something that could have saved all them and prevent all the shit that happened. But she really loved Nat and she really is the friend that's always left out (something I can relate to)

And even tho I don't fully trust Walter, and he may be trying to isolate Misty from her friends, he isn't wrong. They all call Misty only when they need it.

- Callie being bestie with Lottie was not on my bingo card but I like it.

#yellowjackets #shauna shipman #jackie taylor #natalie scatorccio #misty quigley #lottie matthews #van palmer #taissa turner #taivan #jackieshauna #callie sadecki

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catiuskaa · 2 years ago

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[01:43 am]

SUMMARY: study buddies are always close to each other. Still, exams week is over, so when Felix shows up in your room, a silly UNO game is the go-to for clearing things up… in a meme way.

WC: 2.1k

CW: fluff, fluff, fluff!

A/N: this can be read as a stand-alone or as the second part of my other fic which I'll link here

[🔸☆🕯️☆🔸]

knock knock.

“Who’s there?”

“How many people come to your room at this time for you to ask?” he joked, putting a silly smile on your features.

Laughing in a low voice, you opened your room’s door, looking at the silhouette of the slightly taller man before you. He smiled when you opened, eyes almost forming crescent moons, and you chuckled.

“Holy shit, did you stick a fork in the electrical faucet or something? Did you even wash up?” You laughed, looking at the fluffiness of his hair.

Felix laughed as if he had written it, letting a dry “ha ha” leave his lips.

Lips you were trying to avoid looking at, but let’s pretend otherwise.

You let him in, and the silence that filled the room was uncomfortable as if you had stepped on a small LEGO piece that appeared out of nowhere.

You wished to find something to do because, even though at the beginning of whatever these meetings were, they consisted of study sessions for your Korean. However, the tests had finished for both of you, but you kept going to each other's dorms unconsciously.

The freckled Aussie had taken his phone out, and you kept staring at him as if someone had put you on pause.

His mere structure, his position laying on your bed as if the room belonged to him, the small purple LED lights that decorated the space shining on his face along with the blue light of his phone just enough so that his freckles looked like they were glowing… you let out a small, dreamy sight. You shook your head, a tad more nervous than before, as you scanned your room a third time, hoping to find a mutual distraction, considering you’ve watched all the DVDs you had, plus your Netflix account was giving issues… Suddenly, you smiled and rose, not noticing Felix’s brown eyes tracing your poorly illuminated figure with every step you took.

He was a goddam coward, and he insulted himself mentally for taking out his phone, his mind playing images of the classical Grumpy Cat meme staring at his soul, mad at his sins. He just couldn’t show up in your room and do nothing after what happened between you.

Because even though everything seemed fine and you guys’ teasing was still there, how could he even try to ignore that last dance training session you both had? How was he going to pretend that nothing had happened if feeling your lips against his was enough to make him forget not only which was left or right, but also up and down?

Without even realizing it, you both felt a shiver run through your backs, one that screamed at you to cut the tension and do something already.

“Brownie, leave TikTok for a sec and pay attention to me.”

And you took those red and black cards, stuck with a black hair tie, turning around to face him when your gazes locked. You smirked.

“Care for an UNO game?”

It was then when Detective Pikachu wanted to scream his ‘Now it’s getting interesting’, and damn, he was right.

Felix turned off his phone, staring at you as he mentally sipped from his "respect women juice”. You were wearing a hoodie that was probably big enough for both of you to fit in, and there would still be remaining space. Still, he couldn’t think of anything except how cute you looked. While he was at it, Walter White got into his mind Breaking Bad style, saying "You’re goddam right" as he left epically.

Sitting in front of him, you left the cards in the middle as you rolled your sleeves up to your elbows. He took the cards, and you couldn’t help but stare dumbfounded when he put the hair tie in between his lips, tying his hair up, while you didn’t even dare to not think about how good he looked with sleeveless shirts. Larry the Lobster was almost shouting “observe” in your ears, and shit, who were you to disobey Larry the Lobster?

“W-who starts?” you said, snapping out of your bubble called ‘Lee Felix’.

“Rock, paper, scissors?”

You nodded and both of you moved your hands forward, feeling a tingly sensation on the palm of your hands, wishing deep down, were the centre of the Earth, the lava and Chan’s healthy sleep schedule where for the other to take the contrary's hand and pull just so the tension could be fucking finished.

After you teased him for losing, he shuffled the cards and gave seven each, leaving the rest in the centre and starting with a green zero.

“Yo, wanna do something kinda stupid?” you smiled, eyeing those two +4 cards, the red skip card and the yellow reverse, the remaining three being a blue seven, a green seven and a red two.

Felix saw the way your eyes started to glow and swallowed the need to say “I’m kinda stupid, do me,” and instead smiled softly, murmuring a low “surprise me” that made you feel chills all over your body as if you had suddenly turned into that meme video where a girl was doing makeup during an earthquake.

“Say, for example. Even though I really can’t choose a favourite one, blue hair really looks good on you, and aside from the damage, it’s quite soft and I really like it,” you mentioned with a small smile that quickly grew on his face too as you settled the green and blue sevens on top of the green zero. “And green, eh… oh, right. During the maniac comeback you wore a green jacket, right? For the M/V?” He blinked, as he didn’t really remember. “I think so. Well, it looked good on you too.”

Feeling blessed, convinced that if he just looked up he could say “Hey God, it’s me again” and He would answer “What’s up my g”, he blushed fiercely, failing to hide his face between his cards, making you giggle softly.

You paid close attention to the pinkish-coloured mess you had turned your… friend?

Damn, guess who’s red now too.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to continue the game like this,” you backed up, your brain screaming ‘abort the mission, soldier’ with a cutesy smile.

Yongbok smiled, relaxing again, setting a blue +2 on the cards you had put. You looked stunned at the freckled boy, the image of that blonde woman crying and screaming to a cat suddenly in your head due to the treason that had been committed.

“So… I really like playing with you… +2…?”

And that was the moment you knew no matter the outcome of the game, if the case happened and he had all the plus cards, you wouldn’t even dare to complain if that meant he would have to say corny things like that for the rest of the play.

The flattering comments followed each card, the +4, +2, and even a wild one, because “I like every one of your colours”, Lee mentioned, which made your intestines churn and turn as Steve Harvey fixed his tie while saying, "Everybody feels better now."

Until you reached that move.

“UNO.”

The alarm clock that rested on the side table signalled 1:43 am in a deep red colour. You had two cards remaining, the +4 you’d kept since the beginning of the play and a yellow reverse. Between the pretty boy in front of you and yourself rested a blue four and you could smile because the win was near.

But Felix had only one card remaining.

You had filled each other to the brim with compliments, so much that if the case had been that they had to be written in paper, you would’ve filled notebooks till the limit. It had ended up being so easy to flatter the person in front, because even what could appear as flaws to one turned out to be the most beautiful qualities to the other’s eyes.

And as the game continued, holding close to your heart that clip where Han screamed “There’s nothing wrong with falling in love” in case you lacked the courage, you dropped the bomb with that card that had been waiting patiently for its moment of glory.

“I have a crush in you.” You let out, letting the +4 fall on the rest of the deck. “UNO.”

Felix couldn’t even hold back his blush at this point. He had been a mess since the game started, and there was only you to blame for it. Ever since the study sessions (and probably earlier, if he thought about it), you had settled on his mind without planning to move, wreaking all in your way. And this game had somehow triggered him, like a sort of… boom. He couldn’t even word it.

With his mind still a blabbering mess, something gave him the impulse. Maybe it was some fucked-up courage that got out for some reason, maybe the lack of sleep, the memes, or perhaps all of it at the same time. Something made him settle that card and that sentence.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all fucking night.”

+4.

Holy Jesus of Mother

Saying you were left speechless would be as dumb as obvious because you were unable to reply. You lifted your gaze from that coloured card that hours ago would’ve meant a death wish and a war declaration but you suddenly had the need of hugging it and read bedtime stories for it every night as a form of gratitude. Settling your eyes on Felix’s tender features, going from his eyes down to his lips just to go back to his brown ones, you settled that reverse on top of it.

In a game with several people, that would’ve lost its meaning, but just between the two of you, it was the spark of consent that the freckled boy needed.

Brutally ignoring the fact that he had lost the game, that he would have to pick up eight cards, none of the two would actually know who threw themselves first, but you could swear that you felt fireworks running up your bloodstream after arriving at the conclusion that the tension around you was as real as it was going to get and that it had remained there since the blue-haired idol entered the room (or even before, if I may) and in the blink of an eye your lips crashed in a small kiss, one that looked more like a way of asking for permission.

“I-i…” Felix stuttered, perplexed, fascinated, feeling like he could suddenly go bungee jumping.

You got closer to the freckled boy in front of you, stopping merely a centimetre away from his face. You could taste the minty flavour of his toothpaste just from the air he was letting out.

“Do that again.”

Not much thinking added, getting bravery from who-knows-where, he took your face in between his hands softly, linking your lips in a way more intense kiss. You felt his touch equally soft and firm, much to differentiate from the last one. You let out a shaky sigh when you felt his tongue brushing your lips. A bit anxious, you let your hands wander through Felix’s body, feeling his smile in the kiss, only for him to grasp your hands tenderly and settle them on his shoulders, breaking the kiss and quickly hiding in the crook of your neck.

“I’ve been waiting so long to kiss you that if you do something else I really believe you could kill me,” he mentioned against your neck, his breathing tickling you as much as the soft strokes of his hands on your waist.

You laughed teasingly, feeling how he also laughed silently, his chest vibrating under you.

As revenge for making him lose, which he hadn’t totally forgotten yet, he pinned you to the floor, forgetting the cards, the game and how late it was for him to have practice tomorrow and still be awake as he started tickling you and pampering you with kisses because you were finally in his arms.

And when you didn’t care what could happen the following morning or how would you manage to get him out of your room so no one could see him exiting, as it wasn’t something too serious for the members to tell them right away; the fact that he was able to wake up next to you, the realization hit him, knowing that that’s what he wanted his future to be…

And your answer would always be a reverse.

soft hours!

~Kats, who uses UNO as a way of existing, included flirting (just sometimes, with certain someones lol)

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