#bcs fanfic

[desertwritings]

A BREAK FROM STUDYING

A Jimmy Mcgill/Saul Goodman x Cis Female reader Y/N fanfic? 

TBH this is my first time posting my work on Tumblr so I’m still figuring out the formatting. This story is smut based... like heavily smutty and gross so you have been warned. If you like it enough for me to make it a series let me know!

NOW TAKING REQUESTS!

CONTAINS: age gap, daddy k!nk, cream pie, mild squirting, public(ish) sex. 

CONTEXT: You have been working with Jimmy in the mail room for years now and have always had a puppy love schoolgirl sort of crush on him since you first met, but always thought it wasn’t reciprocated. Now, one night, he shows just how badly he’s wanted you this whole time while you try to study for the bar exam. 

I only had another week left until the bar exam and I spent most of my time either working in the mailroom of HHM or studying in doc review. Howard had been supportive enough, allowing me extra time to focus on my studies, all while also paying for my school costs — even if it was just through the local community college. Go Suncats! Honestly, this had been the most support I had ever received. Maybe if I grew up having more support, I would be going to Harvard instead. 

“Heya y/n.” I heard the familiar raspy and pitchy tone of Jimmy as he leaned in the doorway of doc review, where I hunched over a textbook, an empty coffee cup, and a tear-stained notebook. 

“It’s like — almost midnight. What are you still doing here?” I asked, not taking my eyes off my pen and paper. 

I heard his footsteps get closer and the chair beside me pull out and creek as he sat beside me. “I have my reasons.” He answers in a half-assed manner. 

I turned to face him, the dim lamp highlighting his playful smile and I felt my core grow weak and mushy for him. 

The first time I had met Jimmy Mcgill I was working in the mail room, trying to get a job as an assistant or a paralegal for one of the partners. Freshly twenty-three with a bright and optimistic view of the world — full of drive and childish ambition. I was so focused on work and starting classes that I hadn’t taken any time to unwind — let alone care about boys or dating or anything like that. But the first time I met the mysterious brother to Chuck Mcgill, I’ll admit it was like I became a sappy, sick puppy dog. Sure, he was older — a little bit of a loser. But I was weak for the funny pathetic underdogs. Not to mention he was flirty and funny and fed into my childish delusions of how I could “fix him.” I flirted back, wore short skirts, wore the hoop earrings he complimented once, and wore my hair loose and fun. I tried. But for some reason, it never went past harmless office flirtation. I assumed maybe it was the age difference. Maybe he was uncomfortable with being with someone as young as me. Maybe he was just trying to do the right thing but not giving in to temptation with me. 

Now I was almost twenty-seven, and though the schoolgirl crush had dulled a little, there were times when I would catch myself looking at him like he could move heaven and earth. Like in this moment as he sat next to me in the dimly lit document room. So I cleared my throat and turned back to the papers in front of me. 

“Admit you just missed me.” I teased as the smallest of smiles tugged on the corners of my lips. 

“Objection. That’s hearsay.” He teased back, leaning closer as he slid my favorite energy drink across the table with a single finger — the condensation leaving a small streak of liquid on the wood top. “Some of us went out for drinks, and I noticed you weren’t there. Ernesto said you were here studying.” 

“Yeah, yeah he came and asked if I wanted to go but —” I shrugged, motioned to all the school work displayed in front of me. 

“You work too hard. You should take a break and come back out with us.” 

He carefully takes the pen from my fingers, puts the cap back on and sets it aside. It was a subtle and simple thing he did but I felt my skin grow warm. 

“I wish I could, but — I just have a lot to study still, and the exam is —”

“ — a week away.” He interrupts me. “Which means you have time to take one tiny break out of your evening to have a little fun and destress.” 

“I don’t know, Jimmy.”

“Oh, come on, y/n. It’ll be good for you!” He inches so close I can almost taste his cologne and the head and shoulders 2-in1 shampoo. “Come on — for me?”

And with that, I knew. I knew he knew that I had a stupid schoolgirl crush on him and he was using it against me, and fuck — it was working. I tried to fight a smile, shaking my head as my cheeks flushed pink. 

“Fine — whatever,” I said, slamming my book shut. “but only because you seem so desperate.”

He stands up with the dumbest grin. “See? That’s my girl.” 

I stand up, fixing my skirt that had ridden up, my thigh exposed past my thigh-highs, maybe even a bit of my black panties. I wasn’t thinking much of it until I caught a glimpse of Jimmy eyeing me like a lion eyeing a gazelle. It was unexpected, unfamiliar. He had looked at me before in a more appreciative way. This time it seemed more lustful, more desperate even, and it caused my chest and legs to grow hot. I could feel wetness going in between my legs, and for a moment, I got embarrassed.

“I just, uh — I just have to put this stuff in my car, and then we can —” As I was talking, he moved closer, not helping my flustered state. I stopped in my tracks, looking up at him.

I was about to say something. I was about to walk past him and run out of the room but his hands slid around my waist and I nearly forgot how to breathe. His bottom lip was pressed by his teeth, his brows furrowing in what looked like deep thought. Though it wouldn’t take a genius to know what he was thinking about. 

“Jimmy —” I said, his name barely above a whisper. 

“Look — am I totally crazy for thinking that you — that you want me?”   He asked, head tilting just slightly as his eyes didn’t leave my own.    “If I’m making shit up in my head tell me now and I’ll walk away and we’ll pretend this never happened. But if I’m right —”

I was so thrown off guard. This whole time I thought he didn’t want me. This whole time I thought I was too young for him or that maybe I wasn’t his type. But here we stood with his grip around my waist firm and hungry and waiting for direction. 

“I —”   I looked down and saw the bulge in his pants. He wanted me so bad in this moment he couldn’t even hide it. Without much thought, I got on my toes and pulled his neck down into my kiss. He let out a pleasantly surprised whimper, his grip moving down lower to cup my ass as he pulled me into his bulge. I could feel it stabbing me and twitching. I let out a soft and involuntary moan. 

“I wanna feel how wet you are.” He groaned into my ear, sliding his right hand under my skirt and rubbing his fingers on the outside of my soaked panties. He smiled, placing a rather fervent kiss on my neck and biting my skin gently. “Fuck — you’re so wet. You’re dripping.”

“Mhmm — you make me that way.” I practically moaned the words as he moved my panties off to the side and slid one of his fingers inside me, the wet sounds loud and affirming just how badly my body wanted him. 

“Come here.” He pulled his finger out of me, making me whine in protest as his hands wrapped around my waist to hoist me on the edge of the table. 

At this point, I was panting, aching, my pussy pulsing for him to touch me. He shoved his index and middle fingers in his mouth and lubricated them with his own spit before shoving them into my soaking pussy without so much as a warning. I gasped, smiling, laying back on the table as he positioned my legs over his shoulders. 

At first, he started off with a gentle, slow rhythm. In and out. With every push of his fingers, I could feel him pressing against my walls, making my back arch. “Faster.” I pleaded. And with that he was picking up the pace, ramming his fingers into me with force and speed. I couldn’t even handle it, my legs tried to shut as I began to feel overstimulated, but he pried them open and continued to finger-fuck me while I wiggled and writhed on the table beneath him. 

I let out a loud moan that was followed by his hand cupping around my mouth to stifle my pathetic little noises. I had forgotten where we were and that anyone could just walk in and see us this way. 

“You like that? Do my fingers feel good?” He was getting off on making me feel good, it was easy to tell. He was boosting his ego by making himself feel good by making me cum all over his fingers. 

“Mhhhmm” I mumbled under his hand as my eyes opened and looked up at him.

“God — you’re so beautiful.” He said, staring down at me. “Be a good girl and don’t get us in trouble, okay?” He laughed a breathless laugh as he lifted his hand from my mouth. “You’re getting wetter.” He said with a pleased smirk. 

“I’m so close, Jimmy, please —” and with my pitiful begging, he finger-fucked me harder, this time with three fingers while his other hand played with my clit. “I — I’ll make a mess.” I confessed, more like a warning. 

“Good.” He said, not slowing his pace or showing me mercy as my body tensed and my back arched.

“Fuck — fuck I’m coming —”  I squealed, wiggling around as I started to squirt just a little in between every push of his fingers — my wetness drenched his entire hand and forearm. He just kept going, too, making me moan and writhe around, all pathetic and out of control of my own body. It felt good, though, to not be in control for once. My mind wasn’t thinking about the bar exam, bills, or moving up in HHM. Truth be told, it was just thinking about Jimmy and the way he was making me feel. 

“Ah fuck — you’re so sexy.” He said, taking his drenched hand and slowly pulling it away from me, pressing it to his mouth and licking the tips of his fingers. “I knew you’d taste so good.” I grinned a little, out of breath and panting on the table. 

My eyes wandered to his disheveled hair and his cocky smile, then to his soaked hand that reached into his pants and pulled his erect cock out. He didn’t even need to hold it, it just stood there on its own — ready. 

I slowly sat up on my elbows, practically drooling over his cock, which was bigger than I had imagined. “I want you to fuck me with that.” I confessed, looking back up at his glazed-over eyes. 

He didn’t even say anything. He just grabbed me by the waist like he did before and flipped me over on the table with my ass and pussy exposed. I stuck my ass out just a little more, begging for his cock. But before he stuck it in me he kissed me down from the back of neck, down my spine, and then left a little bit on my ass cheek. Then without much warning he was shoving his hard cock into my still-soaking wet pussy. I gasped and groaned, tilting my head back at the feeling. 

“Ah — fuck.” he nearly whimpered, already breathing heavily as he started off with a slow and steady pace. He leaned over me and pressed his lips to the top back of my head while he said, “I want you to call me daddy.”  

I let out a soft whimper in understanding. “Please fuck me harder, daddy.” 

“Good girl,” he said, fucking me harder and shoving his cock deep into me, ramming into my walls and making me whimper with every thrust. His left hand came up to the back of my head and tangled in my hair as his right hand gripped my waist firm in place as he continued to fuck me.  

“Just like that, daddy, don’t stop.” I moaned, banging my hands on the table with nothing to hold onto. 

He gripped my hair harder, lifting my head up as he thrust into me even more fervently — nothing but the sound of our whimpers and moans and skin slapping together. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” He moaned, reaching his hand from my waist to my clit and rubbing it to the rhythm of his thrusting. It only made me moan and shake more. 

“I want you to cum inside me, daddy.” I confess, biting my lower lip. 

“Yeah? You want daddies cum to fill you up?”

“Please daddy — please cum for me.” I begged, barely able to get the words out. 

He picked up the pace to a new speed I didn't even know anyone was capable of reaching, moaning and groaning and sweating all over my bare ass until he made a pathetic whimper sound then the next thing I knew he was emptying his load into my raw pussy — filling me up with his warmth and sliding his cock almost out of me but not quite. I could feel his cock twitching as he continued to empty himself inside me. The feeling of his cum made me even more hot and flushed.

“Holy shit.” he huffed, slowly removing his now flaccid cock from me. I turned over my shoulder to look at him looking at my cum-filled pussy with an arrogant smirk across his face. He was fucking proud of himself. 

I was about to ask for a taste of his cum before we heard footsteps near the mail room. We frantically got ourselves dressed and I rushed to fix the desk and open my book back to make it look like I was still studying. Jimmy fell hard into his seat, hair all sweaty and slightly curled as he zipped up his pants. 

Two cleaning ladies came in with their cleaning cart, staring at us with confusion. “Hola, ladies.” Jimmy said, with a simple wave of his hand. “You can, uh, skip this room tonight.” 

They looked at each other, nodded, then walked out.

Jimmy turned to me with an amused expression, eyes moving down to the now cum-soaked chair I was sitting in and laughed a little. “Guess we should have let them clean.”

[lovecrimeagh]

I practically finished my pretty lacho fic! ♡

some editing left, and a title

genre-wise it's complicated, some romance, some implied hurt/comfort, controversies and tension, you know how they are

stay tuned !! <3

[mrvlbimbo]

hear me out. hear me out. saul goodman x reader where the reader works for him, right? but it's just saul jacking off to the thought of reader who he's been lusting after ever since she started working for him. maybe she walks in and catches him by accident and they have really cool office sex.

content: blackmail (not the way you think), male masturbation, age difference, boss/employee relationship

WC .9k

Late nights at the office used to be reserved for work, he was a bit of a crook but he was nothing if not a hard worker.

Unluckily for him, his night hours had been somewhat occupied since he hired his new assistant.

She was young, too young for him. A recent graduate of law school, she had been vying for any experience she could find in the industry. He's embarrassed to say, he decided to hire her the second he saw her.

There were other women before, but after his most recent wife it was mostly hookers taking up his time.

She was different, sharper than she looked. He was delightfully surprised to find she was actually very useful around the office because he didn't even bother to check her resume.

It was a good thing that she was helpful because she was a serious distraction for him.

After he sent her home it was like her presence was still in the air, he could never help himself. He checked the locks, watching her car leave the lot before he retired into his office for his nightly routine.

When he noticed the scarf she was wearing that morning in the lobby, he knew it was his lucky day.

His belt was off and the last few buttons of his dress shirt were undone to make it easier to roll up his shirt.

By the time he even touched himself his cock was already hard and leaking in his lap, practically begging for attention.

This wasn't right, he needed to be working right now. He had already spent a good portion of the day fantasizing about bending her over his desk and running his rough hands over the smooth expanse of her legs as he pushed her skirt up over her ass.

He already knew she wore lace underwear as he had caught a glimpse of it once when she bent over to pick up a paper he had dropped. That was a benefit of his age, she never thought anything when he asked for her to bend down and pick something up for him. In reality he was perfectly capable but he would never pass up a chance to see up her skirt.

When he imagined fucking her, he imagined keeping the lace panties on, pushing them to the side just enough so he could slide his cock into her. That way he could snap the waistband against her delicate skin and watch as a faint redness appeared.

He was so caught up in the fantasy and the slick sound of his hand gliding over his cock, that he didn't hear the knock on his office door.

He also didn't hear the subject of his fantasies walking into the room tentatively, shaky on her high heels after a long day on her feet.

“Oh fuck. I’m so sorry,” she gasped when she saw him. Despite her sentiment, she didn’t take her eyes off him. Her pupils were wide in the dim room, drinking in the sight of him sprawled out in his luxurious office chair.

"I left my scarf." Her eyes were now drawn to his hand, where he was clutching the aforementioned scarf.

He nodded, eyes wide, at a loss for words. How was Slippin' Jimmy gonna get himself out of this mess?

"Ew," she giggled, sauntering across the office to stand in front of him in a way that almost seemed taunting. "Are you jerking it right now?"

"I was," he replied gruffly, slowly unwinding his fist from his cock so he could pull his pants back up.

She took the scarf from his hand, very aware of what he had been doing and what he had been thinking about. "Kinda perverted," she teased.

"I'm really sorry, what can I do? I'll give you paid time off? How about a big Christmas bonus?" He scrambled to make things right, he'd offer her just about anything not to spill about what she had just seen.

"Pull your pants back down first of all." Her nails curled into the band of his boxers, carefully tugging them back down and exposing him to the stale air of the office.

"Is this ok?" she asked, her hand delving down to his cock and stroking it teasingly slow.

"Yeah. FUck, that's great," he groaned, hand tangling into her hair when she fell to her knees in front of him.

"Yeah?" she sighed, her tone light and breathy. The question was clearly ironic, since she could taste the salty precum beading at the tip of his cock when she sealed her lips around it. The evidence of his arousal for her.

He had no excuse now, not that he really needed it.

"God, this is so dirty. I cant believe this is happening." His head tipped back, eyes snapping shut when she tongued a particularly sensitive spot on his shaft.

She pulled back, letting a glob of split fall from her mouth and onto her hand that was still clasped around him. "I still want that bonus," she said before crawling into the office chair to straddle him.

"You can have whatever you want if you let me fuck that sweet pussy." He growled when she pushed her panties to the side and teased the head of him with her warmth.

"I don't want to be your assistant anymore, I want to be an associate." Her stare was sharp, she was serious about this. He wasn't sure how she was still thinking so coherently, because he sure wasn't.

"Yeah yeah, sure whatever." He wasn't sure if he would actually grant her request but for now he would entertain it because he was so close to being inside of her and he wasn't going to stop now.

[nachosjavelin]

I'm writing something, I don't know exactly what...I just know that it's lacho.

Also, it's my first time writing something (as in, a narrative text) in English, so, any advice is welcome! I also have some Spanish dialogue, I'd love some feedback on that too, eventually.

This is just a random, unedited snippet, it's probably full of repetitions and stuff 😶‍🌫️

[girlbloggerbae13]

Princesa Salamanca

Synopsis: Set after Hector Salamanca's collapse (thank you for that Nacho!), this story follows a young woman, Sarah Jackson, or now, Sarah Salamanca, the first female Salamanca by marriage to our dear and beloved Lalo. She heads to ABQ a few weeks before him with the twins to keep an eye on the family business and our previously mentioned Ignacio Varga, a task from her lovely Eduardo. She turns heads everywhere she goes, especially being an innocent looking token gringa, and has tricks up her sleeve. Being Lalo's girl, she is quite a firecracker. Readers will slowly learn her tragic backstory (tw: drug abuse, SA, prostitution) and how she became to be the princess of the Salamanca family. Not only that, but her relationship with Lalo, Nacho, and many of our other BCS favorites will be explored.

A/N: I'm really proud of this story! I've been in love with Tony Dalton since Hawkeye, but he's such a charming devil as Lalo! This was really thought out as I watched Better Call Saul, so it might be confusing. There was no proofreading, and I can't promise that I'll follow a strict schedule with posting, but I do hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think! I'll also probably end up posting on AO3.

Chapter 1:

“You’ll go with Leo and Marco to Albuquerque, and I’ll be there in just a few weeks, okay?”

Sarah frowned as she laid in her and Lalo’s bed, crossing her arms. Her husband, Eduardo “Lalo” Salamanca, was the unexpected love of her life. She never went anywhere without him. Don’t get her wrong, she loved Lalo’s twin cousins; they were good boys, great even, but she had been by Lalo’s side since they met at her old employer’s house.

Once upon a time, Sarah was a happy UCLA education student, and after that, a mother, and then a first grade teacher. Until her son got sick and her boyfriend left. A hopeful diagnosis turned to turmoil, and in desperation, Sarah resorted to what she previously considered a dirty career: stripping. Stripping led to drugs, and drugs led to connections. Connections led to her leaving her stripping career to pursue an “entertainment career” with a man named Tuco Salamanca.

That name, Salamanca. When she followed Tuco and his job offer to his home in Mexico, she had no idea she was getting involved with one of the most powerful families in the drug business. If it weren’t for Lalo, she would still be there, working 30 hours at a time, living off of rice and cocaine, and getting beat up both physically and mentally by all of her customers. She owes him her life.

However, none of that would have happened if her son had gotten out of remission and by some miracle, lived. But that was then, and this is now. There’s not a day that goes by without her thinking of her little Sam and what could have been.

Sarah’s thoughts were interrupted by Lalo climbing into bed beside her. “Aw, princesa, are you gonna miss me?” He asked, smirking. He ran a hand over her arm and pulled her close.

“You promise you’ll be there soon?” She whispered.

“Pinky.” He stuck out his pinky finger and locked it with hers. “Besides, you know the twins love you. They’re like your number one fans! Come on kid, it won’t be so bad.”

She rolled off of him and over to her side, facing the other wall. “I suppose, but you better be quick.” Sarah sighed and dragged herself out of bed, still wearing Lalo’s boxers and floral button up from the night before, socks unevenly pulled up on her legs from all of her tossing and turning, among other things.

Lalo put his hands behind his head, linking his fingers. He watched as she moved around the room, almost tiptoeing. She was delicate, but confident. The Sarah he met wasn’t like that. She was jumpy, skittish, and afraid of her own shadow. It was pitiful, but she was all the more grateful to leave her job to come home with him. He did care for the girl, a lot more than he thought he would. At first, he just wanted to help her out, of course, and let her escape the raging hands of his cousin, Tuco. But as time went on, he was mesmerized with how she blossomed. She became less of a bird with broken wings, a malleable young girl to blow off steam with, and she started turning into a firecracker. Sarah was Lalo’s favorite thing to ever happen to him in his years in the game. She turned him soft, but he didn’t mind.

“Have you seen my black heels?”

“What do you need those heels for? You planning on seducing one of the locals down there?”

She looked at him through her reflection in the mirror above the dresser, rolling her eyes. “Lalo.”

He chuckled to himself. “Whatever, don’t help your poor girl,” she teased. “I’ll find them.” She made her way downstairs after slipping on her velvet red slippers, a gift from Lalo for learning how to drive stick-shift. He followed the young woman.

When he got downstairs, he was greeted with his cousins. “Buenos dias, primos.” They nodded in response, the typical greeting from the stoic pair. “Sarah, you’ve got to get the boys to warm up on your car ride. We can’t have them scaring the skells!”

Sarah was pouring coffee with one hand and holding a newly lit cigarette and the black heels she had apparently found in the other hand. They were likely kicked off the evening prior in the process of the couple making their way to the bedroom. “Don’t you worry Eddy,” she said with a nickname that only she could call him, “Marco and I have a lot of catching up to do.” She walked between the twins. “Word on the street is that you’ve got it bad for your gardener. Julia, is it?” She eyed him while taking a drag from the cigarette.

Marco’s twin let a slight smile escape his lips, while Marco rolled his eyes. Lalo giggled. His girl was always going to find out everything, one of her many hidden talents.

“I’ll get your bag, mi vida, but come with me real quick. I have a task for you to do for me.”

Sarah followed the older man upstairs, grabbing his hand from behind. “What is it?” She asked, with childlike curiosity, always happy to help Lalo.

In the bedroom, Lalo reached into his nightstand and pulled out a picture, handing it to her. “You know Senor Fring and his little chicken side hustle, but I need you to keep an eye on someone a little smaller. This guy, Ignacio Varga, is one of mi tio’s guys. But he give old Tio Hector some pushback before his collapse. Something about his family, his dad’s business, whatever. He’s a stubborn one, but smart. At least that’s what they say. Just, I don’t know, watch the guy, figure him out, get him to open up. You have that way about you, you know sweetheart?” Lalo tipped her chin up with his fingertips so that she was looking him in the eye. “Can you do that for me?”

She smiled softly, unconsciously batting her eyelashes and giving him the hooded eyes. “Of course.” “Good girl.” Lalo smiled back, and after tucking Varga’s picture into her bag, he took both hands to hold her face. He exhaled, then pulled her in for a kiss. When he pulled away, her lips followed him.

“Wait, wait, wait, one more for good luck,” Sarah whined, protesting as she tried to pull him back with his shirt.

“Okay c’mere.” Lalo kissed her again, slower. This time, when he pulled away, she stayed standing with her eyes closed and sighed.

“Alright, now I can go. I better see you soon.”

He walked her outside and helped her into his cousins’ car, then placed the bag in the trunk. Lalo hit the back, signaling they were good for takeoff.

“Adios princesa!” He waved goodbye, and she blew him a kiss. He pretended to catch it and bring it to his heart, then turned back to his casa grandiosa, shaking his head and smiling. That girl was going to be the death of him.

“Es vergonzoso lo mucho que se gustan,” Leo muttered to Marco.

Sarah leaned up in between the twins. “Estoy justo aquí, ¿sabes?”

[cigarette-room]

For day 3 of @lachoweek2023: bruise

They don't sleep at night.

[gerandor]

So the nacho fic ive been writing for the past couple of days is finally done. It's the missing scene bw nacho and mike in 6x3, with lacho in the background. Thanks everyone for the encouragements and i hope you like reading the fic as much as i loved writing it <3

Summary: When he dies in a few hours, there will be someone still alive who will know; someone who will have to live with that terrible knowledge for years to come after both Nacho and Lalo have long been out of the picture and their absurd, Shakespearean love story rendered completely inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Nacho thinks there is some kind of cosmic irony in the fact that that someone is Mike.

[slashwhores]

"You look like a pig ~"

Lalo x Barbie 👉👈💕

[ccorinthian]

Another childhood fic: Domingo and Nacho get sodas and talk about their dads. 800 words, Nacho pov.

—

She’d taken his hat again and worn it and now he was annoyed at her but he had to get it back so he’d come with her after school. They’d gone to a corner store where she knew the owner, or, her dad knew the owner but she’d met him enough times for him to recognise her so they’d greet each other all the time. Which also meant that sometimes she could get a snack or even a soda ‘on the house’, which she had learnt meant that she didn’t have to pay but she didn’t really get what a house had to do with anything.

She got a can of 7up and he a coke. The clerk didn’t even look up when they walked past and it was someone she didn’t recognise either. She still felt a little disappointed that it hadn’t been the owner working today. Maybe it’d impress the kid who followed her that she knew him. He seemed like an easily impressed dweeb.

‘Are you going to pay for these later?’ The boy from math sat on the curb next to her. They’d found a spot in the shade of a building.

‘I don’t have to,’ she replied, while cracking open her can. It fizzed loudly for a moment so she held it up to her ear to listen to it while the kid from class looked up at her like some idiot, which he was. ‘I know the owner.’

‘My dad owns a furniture store.’

She couldn’t understand why he brought that up when she was trying to tell him about herself like that but apparently it was important for him to make it about himself. Boys always did that and they always just talked about themselves all the time. No wonder they were so dumb when they were too busy thinking about themselves to learn anything important. The worst part is that she knew that his dad ran that store because her dad had told her so once when they drove past it. It looked boring to her but apparently they made very good things. What made a table good or not wasn’t really anything she cared about.

‘Okay.’ She drank quietly from her can and hoped that he would notice that she didn’t say anything more and ask her if she was annoyed. But instead he was staring at a large bug that crawled between his feet. He didn’t pay any attention to her at all.

‘This is a—‘

‘My dad has a store too. He works with cars.’

‘Oh, cool!’ The boy looked up from the big and looked at her instead with the same expression he’d had on his stupid face when he’d been staring at the bug. ‘Does he sell them?’

‘Yeah,’ she replied before she had a chance to consider not lying. ‘Expensive ones.’

‘Oh?’

That seemed to do the trick because the boy leaned a little towards her. He still had that little smile on his face though and for some reason it made her feel a little angry.

‘Yeah. They’re so expensive that only rich people can buy them.”

The kid gasped and he looked a little jealous so she decided to really go for it so he could sit there in his dumb furniture store later and think about how much cooler her dad was.

‘We sold a Ferrari last week, a yellow one. They’re super rare.’ She finished her 7up. ‘Dad says there’s only fifty of them in America.’

He looked at her with eyes that looked like they were going to pop out of his skull. It was almost too easy.

‘Do you think I could—’

‘No. You can’t come and see. Only people who can afford to buy can. And I don’t think you or your dad do.’

The boy actually looked really sad but he didn’t say anything. He sat down his drink and looked at her but avoided eye contact and then after a few moments he picked up the can again and started reading the text on it instead of talking. His silence was super annoying.

‘I want my hat back,’ he said then and that was more annoying than the silence because it meant he was wanted to go home, even though she’d gotten him a free drink. She threw it at him and ignored the baffled look and stood up. Then she attempted to crush her can beneath her foot like she’d seen the adults do but it wouldn’t give in to her weight so instead she kicked it as hard as he could. It hit the pavement and she hoped a car would come and run it over but it didn’t happen.

‘I’ll see you in class,’ she huffed. ‘Have fun in your stupid furniture shop.’

[kizunatallis]

NEW FANFIC DROPPED BY YOURS TRULY, AND IT IS STARRING EVERYONE'S FAVORITE MURDERY CARTEL PAPI.

It is titled A Songbird Flies Out of Her Cage. Link here:

If anyone wants to make a mood board or art, I am totally fine with it, in fact I encourage it.

I hope people enjoy it and it's as liked other Lalo fanfic.

[art-by-jas]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Better Call Saul (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Eduardo "Lalo" Salamanca/Original Female Character(s), Eduardo "Lalo" Salamanca & Original Female Character(s), Ignacio "Nacho" Varga & Original Female Character(s), Domingo "Krazy-8" Molina & Original Female Character(s) Characters: Eduardo "Lalo" Salamanca, Ignacio "Nacho" Varga, Domingo "Krazy-8" Molina, Original Female Character(s), Daniella Molina (OFC) Additional Tags: Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, First Meetings, Best Friend Ignacio Varga, Canon Compliant, Cousin Domingo Molina Summary:

𝖣ɑ𝗇𝗂𝖾𝗅𝗅ɑ "𝖣ɑ𝗇𝗂" 𝖬𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗇ɑ, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝖣𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗈 "𝖪𝗋𝖺𝗓𝗒-𝟪" 𝖬𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗇ɑ, 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝖾𝖽 ɑ 𝗍𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖤𝗅 𝖬𝗂𝖼𝗁𝗈ɑ𝖼ɑ́𝗇𝗈, 𝖭ɑ𝖼𝗁𝗈 ɑ𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌ɑ𝗀𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗌𝗌' 𝗇𝖾𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗐, 𝖤𝖽𝗎ɑ𝗋𝖽𝗈 '𝖫ɑ𝗅𝗈' 𝖲ɑ𝗅ɑ𝗆ɑ𝗇𝖼ɑ, 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗉𝗅ɑ𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 ɑ𝗌 𝗎𝗌𝗎ɑ𝗅. 𝖧𝖾 𝗍ɑ𝗄𝖾𝗌 ɑ 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖣ɑ𝗇𝗂 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝗋ɑ𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 ɑ𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝖾ɑ𝗋, 𝗎𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇. 𝖭ɑ𝖼𝗁𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 ɑ𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖣ɑ𝗇𝗂 ɑ𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗐ɑ𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗆ɑ𝗄𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁ɑ𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋.

[arosnowflake]

My biggest tip for fanfic writers is this: if you get a character's mannerisms and speech pattern down, you can make them do pretty much whatever you want and it'll feel in character.

Logic: Characters, just like real people, are mallable. There is typically very little that's so truly, heinously out of character that you absolutely cannot make it work under any circumstance. In addition, most fans are also willing to accept characterization stretches if it makes the fic work. Yeah, we all know the villain and the hero wouldn't cuddle for warmth in canon. But if they did do that, how would they do it?

What counts is often not so much 'would the character do this?' and more 'if the character did do this, how would they do it?' If you get 'how' part right, your readers will probably be willing to buy the rest, because it will still feel like their favourite character. But if it doesn't feel like the character anymore, why are they even reading the fic?

Worry less about whether a character would do something, and more about how they'd sound while doing it.

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[lovecrimeagh]

finest review I got so far is: all hail the weird rat lady who makes gay books

(I almost blackmailed them to say this but that's besides the point <3 )

[girlbloggerbae13]

Princesa Salamanca: Chapter 3

A/N: Ok, I'm SO SORRY this is so delayed. Finals were fucking crazy. Glad that semester is done with...anyways, SMUT SMUT SMUT in this one. Also, so sorry, but I fear a Nacho/Sarah/Lalo love triangle coming soon. Anyways, enjoy, and as always, let me know what you think!

Warnings: Smut, NSFW

Previous Chapter:

Chapter 3:

Sarah’s phone rang, and again, it wasn’t Lalo. She’s started wondering if he’s ever going to show, but she knows him. He’ll show, and if not for her, then for the family, right?

“Hola Ignacio. How are you feeling?”

“Hey, I’m supposed to let you know to head to El Michoacano. We have business to attend to,” Nacho says in a monotone voice, ignoring her question.

Sarah cocks an eyebrow. “You’re letting me know to head there. For a meeting. We have business? I didn’t know you liked me like that Nacho,” she teased.

Nacho was unamused, and he simply sighed before retorting, “Whatever, head there.”

I’m just trying to be friendly, she thought before hanging up without saying goodbye. Sarah slipped on a pair of her favorite black heels, thinking of her last night with Lalo, and made her way to her car. Once inside, she put on her favorite, Elvis, and lit a cigarette. Marlboro Lights, the prettiest pack on the market.

Singing along to Suspicious Minds, she pulls into the parking lot of El Michoacano. She turned off the car then stepped out, double checking that her gun was in its holster, snug against her thigh. Sarah swung open the door to the restaurant to see Nacho sitting, arms crossed, at his usual table, with a plate of familiar looking tacos in front of him. He cocked an eyebrow at her, and motioned for her to sit.

She heard singing coming from the kitchen, and immediately knew who it was. Paca paca paca in me caballo. Lalo was finally in town. She smiled to herself, then turned to Nacho.

“Lalo’s here?” Sarah asked the grumpy man sitting in the dining area of the restaurant.

Nacho nodded, and like he knew she was calling for him, Lalo walked out from behind the kitchen, smiling.

“Bem! Princesa! I wanted to surprise you.”

Sarah was grinning ear to ear, and she ran up to Lalo, practically jumping into his arms. She sunk her face into the crook of his neck and whispered, “I missed you.”

“Ay dios mio, ella bonita,” Lalo looked down at her with lustful eyes. His girl, his obedient girl, holding down the fort here in New Mexico. He cupped both sides of her face and kissed her. She giggled into the kiss, then leaned in with desperation, practically clawing at the satin shirt the Salamanca man was wearing.

Nacho coughed, already sick of whatever interaction was going on between this “Lalo” and the gringa.

The pair ignored the man briefly, and when Lalo finally pulled away (after deepening the kiss a little too much for the current setting), Sarah was still leaning into him and mumbled protests as her lips departed her husband’s.

“Lo siento, Ignacio, you have to understand, I haven’t seen my Sarah in what feels like forever,” Lalo said, feigning exasperation towards the younger man. “She keeps me young, you know?” Lalo leaned in towards Nacho, whispering, “You know what I mean.”

Nacho grimaced, Lalo smirked, and Sarah blushed, but the trio sat down to start discussing some more of that Salamanca family business. If Nacho thought Sarah was too eccentric, he was in for a treat with Eduardo.

After business was finished and done, Sarah was relieved to be able to go home with Lalo. She was practically itching under the table, aching for the older man. She always had that dangerous ache for him, and she always would. Lalo alleviated some of her frustration by sliding his hand up her skirt, though he was simply keeping a hand on her thigh to steady her anticipation.

Outside, Lalo pulled his girl away from her own car. “Come ride with me.” Of course, she listened.

In the car, she was able to unholster her gun. “Aye, put that in the back. You know I don’t like you having to carry those around. I’m here now, yeah? So no more of that,” Lalo instructed.

Sarah nodded silently, biting her lower lip. Lalo turned towards her. He tutted, then cupped her chin. “What are we going to have to do about you?” He lowered his voice, looking deep into her doe eyes. She was putty in his hands.

“The twins said you did so good while I was gone. So good for me, huh?” He knew the answer; he just liked to hear her say it. Sarah nodded. Lalo nodded back slowly as he ran his fingers through her hair. “Yeah, yeah you were.”

Sarah swallowed and took a deep breath. Lalo always did this, almost examining her in a way. Examining her loyalty, her love for him, her compliance. “Such a good girl for me.” Lalo pecked the tip of her nose, the unspoken sign of his approval. Almost childish in a way, a simple kiss pressed to the tip of her nose. It was innocent enough to praise her good behavior, but teased Sarah’s lips to keep her close and waiting for more.

And she always waited for more from Lalo. She did carry herself with confidence and poise, but when it came to him, that all went out the window. She would follow him, both happily and blindly, to the ends of the Earth.

“Ready to go home, mujercita?” Sarah nodded, and Lalo grabbed her hand as he drove away with the other.

Their home for the time being was a swanky set-up indeed, though nothing compared to her home with Lalo in Mexico. There, Sarah was able to be a guest and a homemaker at the same time, and all the while was living more lavishly than she could have ever dreamed.

Lalo parked and slowly (he was never in a rush, because Lalo knew he would get what he wanted no matter how long it took him) made his way to Sarah’s side of the car. He opened her door and held out a hand to gently usher her out of the car and up to the front door. Lalo guided her in front of him, placing his hand on the small of her back. He hummed quietly to himself as he pulled out the key.

Sarah was unconsciously tapping her foot. “In a rush, princesa? What’s so important inside?” Lalo teased, stepping closer to the woman.

She tried to deny her motivation, but the effort became a lost cause as Lalo backed her into the door. He kissed her, with more force than he used earlier in the restaurant. He was able to unlock the door without interrupting the moment, and he guided her back into the apartment. Sarah was already flustered, pulling Lalo towards her as soon as they stepped inside.

“Mmm, shhh,” he whispered, “I’m not going anywhere. You can slow down.”

He closed the door, locking it behind them, then turned back towards Sarah, who was looking apologetic. “I’m not upset, I know you missed me.” He spoke hushed. “You got no one taking care of you here, huh?”

Sarah’s once doe eyes turned to those of a siren. She bit her lower lip, breathing slowly. “Mmm-mmm. I need you.”

“Oh yeah?”

Sarah nodded, pouting.

“Please?” She was whispering now.

Lalo moved back into the kiss, one hand on her waist, though it was so large compared to her petite frame that it practically wrapped around her side, and the other hand in her hair, grasping for something to hold on to.

Sarah leaned into the kiss, grabbing back just as hungrily. Her hands were in his hair, then on his belt, then making their way under his soft satin shirt. Lalo lifted her so her legs were wrapped around his torso and carried her into the kitchen, setting her down on the counter. He kissed and sucked his way down to the bottom of her dress, then as she was pulling the black curls on his head and moaning small obscenities, Lalo stopped to look up at Sarah with a devilish grin. He started rubbing her through her pink panties. “That’s so cute, mi amor. Little pink panties with a pretty little bow.”

Lalo admired the wet spot already forming in her underwear. “It’s a shame you’re ruining them because of me.”

He scooted her hips slightly forward on the counter, earning a small squeak out of the younger woman. Lalo tutted quietly, then used both hands to slowly pull the panties off of Sarah’s body. She let out a breathy moan, her head leaned back into the cabinet. “Please, please, Lalo,” she pleaded.

Lalo chuckled to himself. The poor girl was in shambles, and he still had all of his clothes on. Ensuring to go slow, he kissed from her knees up to her heat. She was shaking. Lalo started on his girl, keeping the snail’s pace from before, sucking and kissing, and eventually, working his fingers close to her entrance.

Lalo, ever the showman, moved his mouth away from the girl, and instead started rubbing small circles on her clit. He could see that Sarah was arching her back, desperately, and he grabbed her face by her chin, making her meet his gaze. “Yeah?” He asked, smiling an arrogant smirk.

Not dropping the pleading expression, Sarah nodded again, and this time clawed at his hands, unable to physically ask for more.

He inserted two fingers into the girl, pumping slowly, but not averting eye contact. Sarah let a quiet moan escape her lips. He finally broke the gaze and moved his mouth back down to where it was needed most.

Lalo could tell that Sarah was about to come when she started grabbing at his hair, her legs started shaking uncontrollably, and she let out a string of whimpers. He stopped, abruptly, leaving the already shaken-up Sarah even more havocked. She tried pulling him closer.

“No, no, Lalo, I’m, I…please come back, I need–”

She quieted down as he stood up from his previously crouching position. He pushed out his lower lip, mocking the woman. “What you need, princesa, is someone to take care of you the right way. You’re acting like no one’s touched you in years, desperate and pleading for me.”

“I just missed you is all. I’ve been stuck here, just me and my imagination,” Sarah pouted, running her fingers over his hands on the side of her face.

Lalo cocked an eyebrow.

Sarah batted her eyelashes, giving the siren eyes again, always drawing the Salamanca back in. “You left me here. I had to touch myself, touch myself and think about you doing it for me.” Lalo looked at Sarah, lustful, only he was better at controlling his urges. She started sucking on his finger.

“How could I do that to my girl, hmm?” Lalo asked her with sarcasm. “How rude of me. I have to make it up to you now.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, still sucking on his finger, running her tongue over the pad of his fingertip.

He planned to take her to the bedroom, have a passionate and slow-burning night. But his girl was a needy brat, and Sarah needed Lalo, right there in the kitchen. Who was he to say no? He kissed her again, and now he was feeling desperate. She made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, then ran her hands over his chest and back as he took off the shirt, tossing it towards the fridge.

Sarah, still kissing Lalo, blindly reached for his belt. Before unbuckling, she rubbed him through his expensive slacks. He wasn’t one for being too nosy during sex, but something about Sarah’s confidence through the desperation was going to get him hook, line, and sinker every time.

Sarah felt Lalo getting even harder through his pants, and she smiled to herself. She unbuckled his belt and unzipped him. He quickly kicked off his pants. Sarah was moaning just from touching him. Lalo teased her with his fingers. “All this for me? Ay dios mio, tan mojado, princesa. I need to take care of you, yeah?”

Sarah simply moaned in response, and Lalo moved to remove his boxers. Sarah gulped, seeing his hard cock in front of her. He smiled at her, and held himself at her entrance for a moment before slowly pushing in.

Just like every time before, Sarah clutched onto Lalo’s shoulders as he started fucking her. She pulled him close to her, snaking one arm under his, but clutching onto his shoulder, and the other arm wrapped closer to his head, holding onto his hair for support. She breathed out, slowly, as she did every time, adjusting herself to accommodate his size.

Once Lalo noticed the petite frame on the counter in front of him relaxing into the crook of his neck, he picked up the pace, and Sarah’s grip tightened. She tossed her head back, but bit her lip to keep her voice down.

“Fucking…princesa, so tight…no one’s been taking care of you, mm?”

“Uh-uh,” Sarah responded through her teeth, trying to keep herself from being overstimulated by the man whose touch she had been deprived of for way too long.

Lalo picked up the pace, gripping Sarah’s hip and neck, one hand on each. “I’m gonna have to fix that.”

Sarah softly sunk her teeth into Lalo’s left shoulder. “Please,” she breathily moaned, “please don’t stop, Lalo.”

He didn’t. As she pressed herself closer to him, he only grabbed her more. His thrusts were getting sloppy, and he could tell Sarah was getting close, too.

“Hey, hey,” Lalo whispered in between grunts. “No one’s here, you can be as loud as you need.”

Sarah briefly made eye contact with the man that had her in this trance.

“Yeah?” Lalo asked. “You gonna come, right here?”

He kept fucking her, hard, and after being given the go-ahead, Sarah stopped muting herself. “Lalo…oh, there, there…”

She was close. Once he felt her tensing up around him, he started sucking and nibbling at her neck, telling her, “Let go, princesa.”

Her whole body shook as she came around him. “Fuck, fuck…mm-hmm…”

She gasped, still clawing at him, and as she rode through her orgasm, he only whispered to her, “Good girl… buena…”

Sarah grabbed at Lalo’s head again, “Your good girl…I’m your good girl,” she said quietly, still moaning and shaking.

That sent the man over the edge, and he lost control of his thrusts, coming inside her, filling her up. He had a thing for that, seeing Sarah so cock-drunk and needing every last piece of him. She was the one that originally begged him to come inside her.

Lalo grunted lowly, almost growling, into her ear, still choking her. She was still arching her back, now trying to open herself more so Lalo could come deep inside her, which almost sent Sarah into a second orgasm.

As Lalo finished spilling into her, he grabbed her hips on both sides, pushing himself as deep as possible. “Fuck, fuck…muy chingón.”

Sarah gasped, whining at the overstimulation, but when Lalo pulled out, she was left whining at the lack of stimulation.

“Oh, I know, I know,” Lalo spoke in a hushed, comforting tone. “You want more, hmm? Una niña tan obediente…” The man moved her hair out of her face. “So good to me, princesa, such a dirty girl for me.”

Sarah nuzzled into Lalo’s neck, kissing him every so often.

“Such a good girl. My pretty girl.”

He pulled her face out of the crook of her neck to kiss her forehead, then her nose, once more validating Sarah. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

[iamanartichoke]

I don't know who needs to hear this, but as a creator -

I am fine with "the audience" -

downloading my fics

printing my fics

copy/pasting or screenshotting my fics

sharing your saved copy of my fics with anyone else who might want them in the unlikely but never impossible case that my fics are no longer available on ao3

making a book of my fic(s) and running your fingers across the pages while lovingly whispering my precioussss

doing these things with anything I create for fandom, such as meta, headcanons, au nonsense like 'texts from the brodinsons,' etc

I am not fine with "the audience"

doing any of the above with the purpose/intent of plagiarizing my work or passing it off as their own in any capacity

feeding my work into ai for any reason whatsoever

Save the fandom things. Preserve the fandom things. Respect the fandom things.

Enjoy the fandom things.