i need t4t poly jane jesse gooning. passing a bong between the three of you and lazily rubbing each other’s dicks. you and jesse have hypersensitive t-dicks and jane’s has been nuked by estrogen so she’s got a cute tiny lil softie cock that functions more like a clit. i think it’d be cool if she kept it in a cage most of the time and only unlocked it for play. actually i think she has a lot of toys.
the three of y’all y’all got matching buttplugs in and jane breaks out her wand vibrator. they hold your legs open and she holds it to your clit
“and we’re gonna keep this right here until you finish your hit, okay, baby boy?”
jesse taps the bong to your lips,
“yeah, c’mon, gimme a big one, yo. like… keep pulling ‘til you get a fuckin’ CLOUD…”
once the bong is full of thick white smoke, you’re sloppily trying to kiss it into at least one of their mouths. y’all have been at it for so long you don’t even cough anymore
bc her dick don’t work jane will put on a strap if she wants to top and she’ll make you pick out the dick that jesse’s gonna take (and he’ll pick out yours) you pick the biggest one for him and he says
“dude, no fuckin’ shot that’s gonna fit.”
jane hits him with the,
“aw, i thought you said you wanted to make mommy proud. were you lying? i just want you to take all the dick you deserve, you little fag~”
“Jesse’s hands meet your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your clothing. ‘That’s a lotta big talk there, baby. Want to put money where your mouth is?’
You smirk, putting on a show of pretending to think it over. ‘I’m game. I bet you’ll go to every single class and love it.’”
or, Jesse wants to take a woodworking class, and you propose a bet.
warnings: gender-neutral reader
length: 2.1k || read on ao3
notes: this has been sitting in my drafts for god knows how long, i hope you enjoy it!
Sharing his rented condo with you is everything Jesse could ask for and more. Having moved in a handful of months ago, the two of you were settling in nicely, making a good home for yourselves. With you around, Jesse regained something he lost when he began cooking with Mr. White: a sense of normalcy. Never having been in a committed, long-term relationship before you came along, this newfound feeling of stability in his chaotic life was a godsend. Gaining a new safe place allowed Jesse to discover new things about himself. He finds himself doing things he never used to enjoy, like watching sitcoms and cheesy made-for-television movies.
But if Jesse was forced to pick one thing he likes most about living with you, he’d pick watching you do the things you love. He doesn’t know what it is about watching you put together a puzzle or draw in your sketchbook; it just fills him with insane amounts of joy. It lit a fire under him, inspiring Jesse to rekindle the old hobbies of his childhood, specifically woodworking. The thought of returning to woodworking excited him yet filled him with anxiety at the same time. After a week of keeping his worries to himself, Jesse asks for your advice over dinner one night.
“Yo, so I was thinking—”
You snort, interrupting him, “No wonder I smelled smoke earlier.”
Jesse makes a face at you, rolling his eyes. “Oh, shut up. Anyways, as I was saying, I was thinking about taking up woodworking again.” He broke your gaze, looking down as he picked at the food on his plate. “What do you think?”
You hum with a mouthful of food, finishing your dinner. “I think that’s a great idea, love. You said you were good at it in high school, right?”
He nods, still picking at his food. “You think I’ll uh… you think I’ll still like it?”
“What? Of course, you’ll still like it! Why wouldn’t you?”
Jesse sighs, slowly finishing his dinner, stalling for time. He mumbles something unintelligible, regretting bringing it up.
Being practically fluent in Jesse-ese, you sensed something was up, not like it was hard to notice. You knew there was no use in trying to pry whatever was wrong out of him, so you didn’t waste time trying. Instead, you take a different approach. “Jess, I can’t blame you for being worried. You’re stepping out of your comfort zone; that’s hard for anyone to do.” You reach across the breakfast bar and grab his hand, giving it a squeeze of reassurance. “If anyone can do it, it’s you; I believe in you.”
“Thank you, baby.” Jesse offers you a small but sweet smile, which you happily mirror. “You’re sure ‘bout this?”
You kiss each of his knuckles, making him chuckle like always. “One hundred percent sure. When am I ever wrong?”
He raises an eyebrow, teasing you. “You really wanna go there, sweetheart?” Jesse’s confidence returns quickly, his anxiety curbed by your words.
You get up from your chair and walk to his side of the counter, sitting on his lap, arms draped over his shoulders. “Mmm, I don’t know, maybe I do. After all, I am always right.”
Jesse’s hands meet your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your clothing. “That’s a lotta big talk there, baby. Want to put money where your mouth is?”
You smirk, putting on a show of pretending to think it over. “I’m game. I bet you’ll go to every single class and love it.”
“And what do you want if you win?” he asks, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. His hands migrated from your hips to your back, sliding under your shirt.
The unexpected sensation of cold hands touching your skin made you shiver, only fueling the fire you had lit within Jesse. “When I win, you mean.”
“Yeah, whatever, babe, just tell me what you want if you win,” he replies, a smug look on his face.
“When I win, I want you to make me something with the skills you learned from the classes.” Your fingers twist the short hair on the back of his neck into points. The tingly feeling ran up the base of Jesse’s skull, pulling a shiver from him; revenge for touching you with freezing hands.
Jesse grumbles at you in a half-hearted attempt to appear apathetic, but you see right through it with practiced ease. “If I win, which I will, you have to do whatever I say for twenty-four hours straight.”
“Deal, but your demands must be within reason.”
“Deal.” Jesse tugs you down for a kiss, sealing the bet with a smug grin.
———
Once he found a co-op offering free beginner’s lessons, Jesse signed up for two months of classes. Every Friday night after dinner, Jesse kissed you goodbye before leaving for the co-op, never hinting that you were winning the bet. And he hated it, hated how you were right—like always. Jesse had forgotten how rewarding it is to create things. It took nearly all his self-control to keep himself from living at the woodworking studio. He revels in every moment he gets to spend there, questioning why he ever quit in the first place.
As weeks pass, your excitement grows as you wonder what Jesse could be working on. You’re hopeful he’ll bring a project home with him, but it never happens. Every Friday night, a routine forms between you, beginning with dinner in front of the television. As he’s getting ready to leave, Jesse kisses you on the forehead and says, “See you in a couple hours; love you.”
Every week, you ask how it went, and Jesse replies eagerly, happily talking about what he learned. But when you inquire about what he was working on, all you get is a variation of, “Nah, it’s nothing special. Don’t wanna bore you by talking about it. It’s coming along nicely, though.” Jesse’s uncharacteristic defensiveness plants a seed of worry within you. You hope that his reasoning for brushing off your inquiries was that he was nervous to show you his work, nothing else.
———
Moonlight filtered in through the living room curtains, illuminating the room in a soft glow. You sat at the breakfast bar, working on something unimportant, the TV playing in the background. The front door opened, quickly drawing your attention away from your laptop. You stand to greet Jesse at the door, but he beats you to it, rushing over to the counter to give you a kiss. Fumbling with the TV remote, you turn it off, far more interested in your boyfriend. “How was your last day? Finish everything you were working on?” you ask, sitting back down.
Jesse sat down across from you, nodding as he did. “Yeah. Place had a real great vibe to it, you know?” He gnaws on his bottom lip, eyes flitting between you and his lap. “Might sign up for a higher level class. Haven’t done this since high school; I forgot how much I enjoyed it.”
A loving smile spreads across your features. “I’m proud of you, baby. Wish I could’ve seen the pieces you made.” You don’t miss the subtle blush that dusts itself over Jesse’s face, the sight making your heart flutter. There’s a pause between you two, and you’re quick to fill the heavy silence. “You know I’d never make fun of you or your work, regardless of how good or bad it is, right?” You take his hand to reassure him, worried he didn’t bring anything home for fear of criticism.
Giving your hand a squeeze, Jesse fixes his posture, leaning against the counter instead of slouching. “I’m sorry I’ve been so secretive about,” he motions with his free hand, “all this.” He scratches his head through the black and yellow beanie covering his hair. “I know you never would—” Jesse stammers, “—would be scared to show you anything.” You sigh with relief, Jesse’s words lifting a weight off your chest.
“Then why did you hide your enjoyment from me?” you ask, sadness laced throughout your words.
Your question pulls on Jesse’s heartstrings, only now realizing how his actions had affected you. He squeezes your hand again, kissing your knuckles apologetically. “Close your eyes, and I’ll explain?” he offers, pulling out the big guns: his patent pending puppy dog eyes.
You look him once over before complying, wondering what he has up his sleeve this time. Whatever Jesse was doing, he was quick about it as you were opening your eyes after what felt like mere seconds of having them closed. The first thing you see is your boyfriend nervously fidgeting with the drawstring of his hoodie and chewing on his bottom lip. The second thing you see is a small trinket box. It’s stained a deep, rich color and sanded to such perfection that you could almost see your reflection. You look at the box, then at Jesse, silently asking permission to touch it, which he gave. Gently opening the lid, you saw the inside was patterned with a different style of wood, something striped to contrast the solid color on the exterior. “Oh, Jesse,” you whisper with awe, “This is beautiful, a work of art.” Your fingers trace the edges as you take in his stunning craftsmanship. “Is this what you’ve been working on the whole time?”
Jesse nods, still playing with his hoodie’s drawstrings. “Took forever to get it just right. The inside is zebra wood; I had to wait a week for it to get restocked. Made one like this back in high school. Loved it more than anything; even my parents liked it. Everyone said I should gift it to my mom,” he pauses, needing a moment. “I almost did, too. But I traded it. Barely got twenty bucks of pot for it.” Jesse shook his head as if he were dismissing the bad memories from view. “But that’s not why I remade it.”
Engrossed in his story, you do your best to reign over your emotions, rubbing your eyes free of tears. “Why did you remake it then?”
Jesse motions for you to turn the box upside down, which you do. “Your answer is on the bottom.”
Looking at the underside of the box, you find words—along with the year—carved into the woodwork.
Thank you for believing in me ♡
—J
Once he’s sure you’ve read it, Jesse continues talking. “Remade it so I could finally have the chance to gift it to someone I love.” He meets your gaze for the first time since he revealed your present.
You got up from your chair without saying a word, rushing around the breakfast bar to pull your boyfriend into a near-bone-crushing hug. “What did I do to deserve someone as perfect as you?” you ask rhetorically, face buried in his neck. “I don’t even know where to begin; I love it so much.” Jesse wraps his arms around your midsection, hugging you impossibly tighter. He peppers soft kisses over your cheek and jawline, holding you close to his chest.
“I should be the one asking that, little bird. You have no clue how nervous I was, worried you wouldn’t like it or it wouldn’t turn out how I wanted it to,” Jesse sighed against your skin, and you could feel all that anxiety he spoke of leaving his body. “Not mad at me?”
You can’t help but giggle as you lift your head from his shoulder. “Not mad. Although, I’m not used to you being so lovey-dovey and mushy like this. Kinda like it, if I’m being honest.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jesse rolls his eyes with a smirk. No matter how badly he tried to hide his amusement, you could tell he liked it, too. He moves a hand to your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. One kiss turned into two, three, four, all soft and full of stupid amounts of love. Jesse squeezes you tightly once more before releasing you. “Just wait; you’ll like what I make next even more.”
“Oh yeah? You sound pretty confident about that,” you smirk, tugging teasingly on the ends of his hoodie.
Jesse bit his lip, looking up at you with a glint in his eyes. “Oh yeah, you wanna put your money where your mouth is?” he snarks back, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your neck. He uses his newfound leverage to drag you back in for another kiss, only this one has the heat of a promise behind it the previous ones did not.
A promise of a long, sleepless night for both of you.
pairing: jesse pinkman x male!reader genre: fluff word count: 418
a/n: i've been rewatching breaking bad again and i need more jesse x male reader fluff so enjoy
“no!”
“yes!” you cheer, throwing the controller to the side to celebrate your victory. jesse dramatically sighs next to you, sliding to lay sideways on your couch. he covers his face with his hands, peeking through his fingers and smiling at you. you’re oblivious to it, still high on the excitement of winning. you kneel down next to him, pulling him to sit up. you move to straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “i win.”
“you did,” jesse smiles, hands gently holding your hips. you pull back when he leans up, smiling at his small whine.
“what’s my prize?”
“will a kiss suffice, my prince?” jesse playfully raises an eyebrow. you bite back a smile, pretending to debate it for a minute.
“hm, a prince deserves more than a just one kiss, don’t you agree?” jesse’s hands move underneath your shirt, gently rubbing against your bare skin. you hope he doesn’t notice how the feeling makes you shiver.
“how about… i give you a kiss, and i make us breakfast?”
“you do make great eggs,” you sigh, moving your hand to cup jesse’s cheek. “i guess i can accept.”
jesse smiles, finally pulling you down into a sweet kiss. you lean down to kiss him again before he shifts to push you down onto the couch. he pulls back with a sweet smile before his hands gently tickle your sides, making your flinch and laugh, pushing his hands away. “good. now, let me go make my great eggs.”
you’re quick to follow after him, leaning the counter as you watch him prepare breakfast. it feels so intimate to watch him do something so mundane, consciously cracking enough eggs for two portions and separating the two so your omelet doesn’t have green bell peppers.
jesse stands over the stove, carefully flipping the eggs so they don’t burn. you can’t help yourself, quietly making your way over to wrap your arms around his waist, leaning against his back. he jumps a little before chuckling, turning the burner down and turning around to face you. he gently pushes you back against the counter before pulling you into another kiss. he presses his forehead against yours when he pulls away, looking down at you with a lovestruck smile.
“what?” you laugh.
“i’m so in love with you,” he smiles.
you fake groan, hiding your face into his chest. “don’t get all sappy on me.”
jesse laughs, wrapping his arms around you. “you love sappy.”
pairing: highschool!jesse pinkman x fem!reader
type: slight angst, fluff
topics: smoking, mentions of depression, overdose, and drugs
overview: to your surprise (and slight horror,) you find jesse pinkman screaming his lungs away in the go-karting place you were working in.
the magazine you were reading wasn't really keeping you fully entertained, it was more so there to keep you occupied to pretend that time was going by faster at work. but you found yourself harshly flipping the pages, frustrated that the office fan kept blowing it back.
it was a long, slow day at the go-karting place you worked at. well to be fair, you couldn't expect a go-karting business to be booming. not everyone is in the mood for small fast car racing—they have real-world problems to be worrying about.
wanting to investigate further, you slowly peek your head out of the office door. to your surprise, it was jesse pinkman? you knew he was a nutcase to some degree, but this is a whole other level.
you weren't a goody two-shoes, and you're certainly not about to poop on someone's party, but you also needed him to quiet the fuck down or else bye-bye job.
setting your eyes on your box of cigarettes, you decided to light some up before containing the wild animal.
"hey! pinkman! i know you're having a blast but tone it down a bit!"
coincidentally, he was slowing down since his session was up. he looked at you, and got out of the kart with his hands in his pockets; eyes glued to the floor.
he looked really distraught. sleep-deprived even? ...is he good?
blowing out the smoke from your cigarette, you called out to him. "pinkman?"
surprised he even stopped in response to you, you try to ask him if he was fine.
"yeah, yeah. im good. sorry about the uh," he looked back at his go-kart, "the screaming."
once he finally faced you, you could see his face more clearly now. his eyes were bloodshot red. his eyebags could not be darker and more purple. plus, he was really fidgety.
not really good with words, you extend out your hand, a box of cigarettes on your palm. "you wanna smoke one... or two with me?"
-
"are you high out of your mind right now?" you mindlessly asked. remembering that you could be too direct at times, you apologized just as quick. "oh shit, sorry. i didn't mean to ask you that. well i did, but i didn't mean for it to be so straightforward."
jesse chuckled as he blew out the smoke from his nose.
to be frank, you were taken aback. the guy you're silently hanging out with right now is different from the jesse pinkman you knew when you see him in the high school hallways, or when he's smoking with badger and skinny pete behind the school.
"honestly yeah. im high as fuck out of mind right now. my life's just in the shitter hole. always has been." his eye twitches.
relating, you nod your head in approval. "oh yeah, amen dude. welcome to the club. my life has been a giant turd swirling around in an unflushed toilet for the past.. 2 years now?"
"jesus. that's one way to describe it."
"well someone's trying to be funny, mr. i-scream-my-lungs-out-in-a-go-kart-at-9-pm?" the both of you chuckled at your remark.
-
your neck was getting really sweaty since you guys were smoking outside, so you decided to put your hair up in a ponytail. minding your own business for a hot second, you didn't realize that jesse was looking at you.
"is the view good?" you were trying to lighten the atmosphere up a bit. to be honest, even though jesse was pretty easygoing, you always sensed something darker and heavier going on in his mind.
no response other than him quickly turning his head away from you, and a small 'sorry'.
you didn't really know why you cared a bit for him. it's not like you had a crush on him or something, but something always drew you to him, even at school. you never got the chance to talk to him though. well- until now.
fidgeting with your dangling earrings, you wondered if he remembered you from school so you asked him just that.
"hm." he made a sound, rather than actually answering. "yeah i guess i do. i see you around school, but that's about it. can i have another one?"
"for sure." you handed him another stick. "so more or less strangers, huh?"
he took a hit and nodded his head in response.
"you mind telling me the story behind all the uh, all the screaming back there? figured it's easier to tell me since we're strangers and everything."
you tried to steal a glance at his side, he seems calmer now.
"right on. well, my parents are fucking bitches man. they keep telling me to go to college and shit, but i just want to get high and live my life. they, they think that," he pauses to sarcastically laugh, "they really think they own me. bunch of pussies."
you sat, listening to him rant. it was pretty satisfying, actually.
"god! fucking assholes wanting to have a 'perfect family', well surprise!" jesse immediately stands up and holds his crotch which was, unfortunately, lined up right at your face. "you can suck THIS!!! perfect family my ass."
"okay, okay sit back down mister. you're not about to go hysterical again on my watch. plus, i don't really like someone's dick in front of my face- i save it til the second date." you patted the seat next to you. "though i get it, truly. parents are a bunch of assholes, AND college too. just because they get to finish college doesn't mean shit. they're not better than you."
"exactly! at least someone gets me. and it's not just that, they've always treated me like i'm some problem dog. they frustrate me so fucking much it's not even funny." you noticed jesse fidgeting with his fingers as he sat back down. "i would really kill for some weed right now though." his knees bouncing up and down, jesse staring at you as if you really packed grass for your lunch at work.
"how'd you know i have weed?"
"i guess we're not total strangers after all." he winked.
you were for sure enjoying his company, and you didn't mind spending a few more hours with him so you offered some back at your place instead. he agreed and waited for you to close up the go-karting place.
-
"so, this is me." the door creaked, revealing a dim living room.
"where your folks at?" jesse whispered, frantically searching for your parents.
you chuckled, "sleeping. come on, quietly."
as you guys reached your bedroom, past the creaking staircase, jesse shut your door slowly. raising his eyebrows and eyes scanning around your poster-filled room he asked, "yo, are you sure they won't get mad?"
you fixed your bed (putting shit in their respective piles), "they've caught me doing worse. we just have to keep quiet, and we're gold." you shrugged.
"right on."
"get comfy, i'll roll some up for us."
-
both of you were lying back first on your bed. it doesn't have enough space for the both of you, but you made do. you held that position for a good 5 minutes, enjoying the calm silence. though you decided to have some kind of fun, so you blew smoke on his face.
"you doing good over there, buddy?" you laughed heartily, looking at his profile.
he kinda looked good. well, he was coughing up since you blew some smoke in his face, but he still looked fine as hell. you guessed you just never noticed that til now. you gulped, trying to push this thought down, and fixed your eyes back at the ceiling.
chuckling and lightly nudging your body, jesse replied, "jerk." he propped up his pillow, and put his arm behind his head, exhaling slowly. "you have good ones, let me tell you that."
"glad you think so. about time i enjoyed them with someone." you admitted.
"you don't have anyone to bring over?" you shook your head. "ever?" you shook your head again. "i don't buy it yo. no way. you're like cool to hang out with, there's no way you don't have friends."
"that's just the truth. used to it by now. to be honest," you took another hit. "same time last year, or a little bit over a year ago maybe? i was losing my mind, and i mean losing my damn mind. i didn't care if my blood had too much alcohol in it, if i was overdosing, or high out of my fucking mind that i was close to touching jesus' clothes. i just wanted to-"
"die?"
you look towards jesse's direction. you see him already staring at you with wide, sympathetic but understanding eyes. like he knew exactly what you felt, down to a t.
not really used to personal attention, you remove your eyes from his and agreed. "yeah... die. one thing led to another, and now i'm doing better. at least, not worse." you finished off your little trauma dump.
it was a good thing that jesse understood. he understood that silence is better than empty, comforting words. what both of you have endured is way past words of encouragement.
from the ceiling, your eyes then trailed towards the window next to your bed, admiring the chilling night sky, the stars; then the moon. you were startled when something cold touched your pinky finger. slowly looking down, you see pinkman's pinky shakily making contact with yours. as if he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do.
you wrapped your pinky around his as a go signal, jesse then finally held your hand. you heard a loud exhale from him like he was holding his breath for a while.
looking up to get a better view of jesse's face, you saw him still staring at your bedroom ceiling. all that direct, heartstopping eye contact earlier, and not even once when it counts. you lightly smiled and stared at the ceiling with him. both of you holding each other's hands in one hand, and holding joints in the other.
was christmas shopping today and was reminded how poor i am so here’s me being delusional
masterlist
last real romantic guy alive 😒
lalo always knows exactly what to get you. he’s got no shortage of money that he loves throwing at you, buying you anything your gaze lingers on. on special occasions, you’re always met with a neatly wrapped gift box, complete with a ribbon in your favorite color.
not just buying you things, but acts of service too. believes a real man will spoil his woman and treat her right
loves when you cook for him, but will rush to do the dishes afterward, assuring you that you’ve already done enough. brings you breakfast in bed and tells you not to work too hard when he leaves. loves doing little things for you
thinking abt how soft he can be too….
he’ll run you a bath after a particularly stressful day, with bath salts and whatever flower petals on hand and your favorite scented soap.
sure, he could get one of his workers to run it for you, but prefers doing things for you himself. personally adjusting the temp and amount of bath salt so he knows it’s perfect for you. would hop in with you if you’d like, or he’d sit by the tub and scrub your back for you and massage your scalp.
great at giving massages in general. when your back or shoulders hurt he’s immediately volunteering his skills.
bonus drabble cause i’m going crazy :3
when you’ve got the time, lalo loves to take you shopping. he may roll his eyes and tease you when you get excited, mumbling about having to carry your bags, but you don’t have time to say anything because he’s already carrying everything for you. you can’t argue with him, he would never let you carry anything. so, with a huff, you move on to the next store.
you take in your surroundings as you step into the store, glancing at the displays lining the walls with wide eyes. this place seems fancy, you think as you take in the simplistic yet elegant decor. you wander off from lalo, absentmindedly browsing the clothes.
when your eyes fall on a light brown coat, you immediately approach it, reaching out to feel the material. it’s long, with darker brown accents that are simple, but scream money.
“lalo!”
“feel how soft this is!” you gasp, motioning for lalo to come over. he grins at you, your eyes lighting up as you run your hands over the fur lining the inside of the coat.
“this place is nice, no?”
“very, no wonder everything’s so expensive,” at the thought, you turn over the tag on the coat, visibly shocked at the price. it reads 100% genuine alpaca wool, $480.00.
“you said you wanted a nice, durable coat, yeah?”
“well, yeah, but not a $500 one!”
“princesa, you know that price is not an issue,” he crosses his arms.
“that’s not the point! you’ve spent so much today already,”
“you know i don’t mind-“
“it’s fine, i don’t even like it that much anyway,”
“mhmm…”
“c’mom, let’s get lunch,” you motion towards the door “i’m starving,”
weeks later, and that nice coat has left your mind. you think instead of the stuff you did buy, excited to wear a certain dress you bought out. as you step out of the bathroom, you wrap the towel tighter around yourself at the cold air in the room. you walk quickly towards the dresser, eager to cover up, when a large gift box sitting in the middle of the bed catches your eye. curiously, you approach it, examining the elegant white box. you open it carefully, unable to keep a grin from spreading on your face from the anticipation.
you gasp when you see the inside. a light brown coat is folded neatly inside, and you can’t help but grinning as you pull it out. the tags have been removed, but you know it’s the same, gorgeous, light brown coat from that store, and although there’s no card, you know it’s from lalo.
“Francesca, you know I appreciate you and everything that you do for the office, but would it kill you to hurry up with the details?”
Saul was tapping one hand on his leg anxiously, the other holding an earpiece into his ear with a fervent grip. The lawyer's jaw was tense. Millions of things were running through his mind—per usual. Scams and lies lived rent free in his business, but coming up for one in this situation would be difficult.
“Okay okay I didn't mean that fast.” He rolled his eyes, a small bead of sweat forming at the crest of his ever receding hairline. His hand withdrew from his ear to wipe along his forehead. “Alright, thank you. See? Wasn't that hard!”
“Give the lady a break, Saul.” (Y/n) called from across him, staring up at the ceiling with a bored expression. They were a stark contrast to their boss' rigid posture. “If I had to work with you everyday I'd get a little pissy if you called me on my lunch break too.”
“You do work with me everyday bud.”
“Don't remind me.” (Y/n) turned their head to look at Saul with a sigh. The soft gray suit they wore crinkled with the change in movement. The room they both sat in was all too familiar, pillars of white lining the surrounding perimeter of a mahogany desk. Seas of files and papers consumed it, nearly concealing the owner of the room from behind. And, staying true to Saul's weirdly horrible taste in decoration, everything seemed to be a shade of brown.
“Listen I appreciate you putting your ass on the line for me in this case—” The man across from (Y/n) babbled. “—but the clients we’re working for aren’t as lenient as the others you've dealt with. And their client here, Mister uhhh, well Jane Doe at this point, got caught up in some pretty bad doo doo.”
"If you ever use the word 'doo doo' again I'm resigning to throw myself off the bridge by Taco Bell."
"You know a three day notice is required for that right?" He chuckled, but stopped when they didn't reciprocate his humor. An eye roll and grumble was all (Y/n) offered as they simply stood up to dust off the seat of their pants, heading towards the door without anything to say.
"Woah woah woah hey where are you going Johnny hot shot!!" Saul jumped up with the speed of junkies fighting for meth, knocking a few important stacks of paper that he would get on his hands and knees to clean up later.
"To go get some believable lie that a judge will swallow down like their morning pill." They snorted with the door already halfway open. "What else."
"I just—" Saul faltered. "—make it quick, grumpy mcgee."
He was offered a generous glare at the nickname, door slamming shut as he wandered back into his seat with a tired groan.
"I should have been a goddamn bartender or something."
i could go rabid for some yandere! jesse pinkman rn. imagine he knows that the people he loves are jeopardized and end up dead, so he is absolutely sure that you are kept a secret. he tells no one about you, not even mr. white, and (somehow) has a way to keep you out of the public eye—whether he has you physically kept within his house or if he finds a way to manipulate you into relying on him for safety, falsifying threats and isolating you. he’s so sweet and soft to you and so unforgiving to anyone who poses the slightest risk to you
something that would also be interesting is to think about how yandere! jesse would act toward his darling in that period of life when he has lost everything and is completely numb. his life is so dark and you are his only glimpse of what is good and kind and pure. he will give everything to protect that. imagine he goes out drinking and comes home wasted and so numb that all he wants to do is have you hold him while he cries. even if you are a hostage, you reluctantly oblige because you can see the good intentions in even the most morally questionable people
just my word salad thoughts of the night. i adore your writing, btw :)
ANON….ur mind >>>
If only he had the words to describe how truly terrible the world could be. It would give, just to see the look on your face when it takes. It was almost if something higher enjoyed placing these kinds of people with him and putting him in these kinds of situations. This had been a reality that Jesse was forced to accept, and it made him not believe that you were even real.
No matter what hurdle appeared right in front of him, no matter how aggressively the winds blew, you remained an unmoving part of his life. He wanted you so terribly, but did he even truly deserve you? If he held you the way he wanted to, would he be pointing you right down the road to your demise?
If he loved you any less, he'd call you a fool. You're everything he's ever desired, and on top of that, you won't drop that extended hand. You wanted to see him get better, and everytime you told him that he'd practically burst into tears on the spot.
Somehow, you always managed to stay out of danger. With his help, of course! Slow of a process it was, but he did his job well. When he was done with you, even just glancing out the outside world through a window was an alien concept. Contacting parents, friends, colleges, and anyone else in between was heavily discouraged at the beginning, progressing into you not being allowed to contact anyone at all, no matter the reason or circumstance. Just to keep your name from hitting the poles and coakrboards with big and bold text saying "MISSING", Jesse would make sure to routinely send out cards and text messages on your behalf. Never a call, less he learn that hearing their voices brings out some form of nostalgia in you, igniting an immediate desire to go home and leave him behind. Before long, you're chalked up as thinking you're "too good for the family", and are written off for good (not before some angry retaliation from your loved ones, of course. This would probably be the only time Jesse accepts a phone call, just to listen to their words, using just how terrible they're speaking to justify such snakeish maltreatment of his romantic partner).
He'd be so understanding when you're upset at never being able to speak to anyone again. He sees the pain in your eyes, and he tells you that he get's it, and pulls you against him with a, "fuck them for dropping out on you". You don't have to feel to bad, Jesse understands. He's lost people, too. He just doesn't want one of those people to become the one he can't live without.
You wouldn't know about cooking, about Mr. White or Saul or Gus, and they wouldn't know about you either. You'd be a very concept, a concept people use to mock him while under the belief that you, a loving partner, is something Jesse doesn't have. Unbeknownst to them, he has you right by his side.
When he does home, he gets to see you all doe-eyed, staring at him with your leg chained to a ventilator. When you cry, spit and scream, break the dinner plates and slap the forks out of his hand, sure Jesse can admit that it hurts him. But he knows you wouldn't be breathing without him. Something brought you to Jesse as a test to see if he could truly protect you, and Jesse will gladly take all of that abuse and more just for the end goal he sees.
Jesse just couldn't leave you all on your own.
He couldn't leave for Alaska without you, either. He just wouldn't be able to live with himself. Your desire to follow him (or lack thereof) is not relevant to him; he needs you. He needs you more than he needs anything else, and he'll grab you and force you into his trunk if need be. Surely, you understand that when you didn't die off, you made it so that Jesse would do anything to keep you.
When he tells you that if you didn't die before, you'd surely die without him now, he wasn't particularly lying. Jesse's seen true evil, looked it right in the eyes and watched it kill without remorse. He's seen it all, done it all, and so, became the judge and jury when it comes to your sentencing. Life imprisonment, living to justify his own sins and traumas in whatever home he finds for the two of you.
He wasn't the man you knew before, not even close. He was cold, hollowed out, and seeing him smile was a rare occurrence that used to happen on the daily. This wasn't your Jesse, but you were still his beloved. You were still you, and that was all he needed.
With Jesse in your lap, his head smushed against your thigh and your hand gently massaging his one shoulder and petting his hair as you listen to his barely audible sobs, perhaps this was all you needed too.
Summary: There was no place you felt safer than in his arms.
Words: 760
Tags/Warnings: this is so fluffy I literally will throw up, SO SO SO SO SELF INDULGENT LIKE LMAO? can you tell :), very implied smut.
A/N: this man has me in a fucking CHOKEHOLD! I’m so in love with him.
Anyway I was totally NOT intending for this to turn into what it did, I just wanted to ramble about how amazing I think his hugs are and then it turned into... well.. this. Enjoy :)
also it is so hard to find a good gif of him. Pain......
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You were sitting on the kitchen counter waiting for the popcorn you were making to finish popping in the humming microwave. The loud bursting sound of kernels bursting open and being coated with the butter that coated the walls of the bag.
The front door opened followed by the sound of jingling keys. You watched from where you sat as Brandon took his beanie off, shaking his head to get any remaining droplets of water from the sudden rain out of his hair. His shoes were discarded with a thump beside the door.
“Jesus, like fuckin’ cats and dogs or whatever out there.” He says followed by a sigh.
His keys continuously jingled in his hand when he straightened back up and spun them on his index finger. He padded over to the entrance of the kitchen, dropping his keys on the breakfast bar.
“Hey, baby.” Brandon greeted sweetly, a soft smile playing on his lips as you dropped down from your seat on the counter.
His arms wrap completely around you, swallowing you whole in the jacket he was wearing. His cheek rests on top of your head while rocking back and forth where your feet lift a little off the ground. But not in a way that’s whipped you around, more like a comforting sway that makes you feel so loved in his embrace.
He smells faintly of cigarettes and cheap cologne he probably bought from walmart.
But it was so unbelievably and undeniably him. The warmth and passion radiates from his very being as he brings you closer and cups your cheek, bringing you in for a searingly passionate kiss, his lips soft and welcoming as they move against yours, making it feel as if the time was slowing down as he brought you impossibly closer with a gentle pull of your jaw.
One of his arms is still fully wrapped around your middle, still rocking the both of you in a gentle sway, his other hand slowly making its way to the back of your neck as the kiss deepens, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip.
It was almost impossible to describe how much love you felt for him, the closest thing you could even think of was one simple word. Ecstasy.
“I love you.” He whispered so quietly against your lips once you separated.
It was hard to hear him over the rushing sound and heart thumps in your ears. Your eyes fluttered open only to be met with the beautiful grin of the man you found yourself so unbelievably infatuated with. His blue eyes practically sparkled as they looked into yours.
“So much.” He brought you back in, his kiss a bit more searing this time.
The microwave beeps for maybe the third time, but it fell on deaf ears as you melted against him.
You feel his arm unlock from its hold around your waist, dropping down to your hand just as he pulls away from your lips. He walks backwards and pulls you towards the living room, a soft grin on his face before he turns around and guides you towards the couch.
Once there he turns back towards you and brings you in for another kiss, helping you sink slowly down to the couch until you're laying with your head against the cushion, and he’s settling between your legs. His hand comes up to take hold of the back of your neck, his thumb pushing gently against your jaw and tilting your head upwards as he trails his lips from yours to your neck.
“Fuck.” You whisper quietly when you feel him bite down just a little, surely trying to leave a few marks for him to marvel at later.
His hands were so gentle against your body as one trailed from your neck, down your chest, and stayed perched at the dip of your waist just above your hip. His other hand gripped onto your thigh, guiding your leg to bend and press against his own hip.
His hips ground just barely against your other thigh, allowing you to feel his erection that strained against the zipper of his pants. A whisper of a moan came from his lips at the miniscule amount of friction, his forehead pressing against your neck before lifting his head and looking at you.
“Brandon.” Your fingers bury themselves in his hair, bringing him in for a swift kiss and whispering “Please.” against his lips.
“I got you baby.” Brandon reassures you, cupping your cheek and bringing his lips up to kiss your forehead.
