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slamminslamminmcgill · 1 year

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

>:333

combining w/ these

anatomical terms:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't call me tha-"

Click.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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waltywhitey · 4 months

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🌟🌟 How the Breaking Bad crew would react to you coming out as trans 🥰🏳️‍⚧️🌟🌟

Notes: hi!!!! I'm a new writer and I just wanted to start with some breaking bad and better call Saul headcanons! Hope you enjoy!!!

Warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✨ Walter White ✨

🔆 Apprehensive at first since he doesn't really understand gender

🔆 Grew up old fashioned but will eventually come around

🔆 He's a teacher so he has to be understanding and use your correct pronouns

🔆 He further explores LGBTQ+ issues and gender rights and is a proud ally

🔆 He attends Albuquerque's pride festival

✨ Jesse Pinkman ✨

🔆 He's your best friend since moving to Albuquerque

🔆 Once you tell him, he gets really excited about learning this

🔆 He's so happy that he shows you his top scars in solidarity

🔆 Jesse never told anyone that he's trans too -- bonding you both closer together

✨ Saul Goodman ✨

🔆 Doesn't understand pronouns or being gay

🔆 Admits that he was gay for a bit in highschool

🔆 He'll refer to you with your preferred pronouns so he doesn't lose you as a client

🔆 He will protect you against hate crimes

🔆 He will also fight for your right to gender affirming care

🔆 He also wears a trans pin next to his blue ribbon to tell other potential clients that he supports all the queers

✨ Gus Fring ✨

🔆 You are one of his employees and confide in him that another coworker called you a transphobic slur

🔆 Gus does not allow discrimination in the work place and has the coworker fired

🔆 He consoles you in his office and asks what your preferred pronouns are and promises to make sure everyone refers to you as such

🔆 During June, Gus has a special trans meal that comes with a free trans flag and all proceeds go to an LGBTQ+ organization

🔆 Los Pollos Hermanos also has a float in the Albuquerque pride festival

✨ Mike Ehrmantaut ✨

🔆 Silence

✨ Skyler White ✨

🔆 You're best friends with her son, Walt Jr.

🔆 She's seen you grow up so when you come out as trans she's a bit shocked

🔆 At first she'll ask how you know and forbid Flynn from hanging out with you

🔆 Her son bashes her for being transphobic and says that he is going to run away

🔆 Skyler calms down and thinks things through

🔆 Eventually she promises to not be transphobic around you

🔆 At first she'll struggle with your preferred pronouns but she'll get it

🔆 Over time she'll become an ally and be accepting when Walt Jr. comes out as bi

✨Marie Schrader✨

🔆 You come out to Marie and she is very supportive

🔆 Marie stole your goddamn estrogen pills

✨ Hank Schrader ✨

🔆 You're one of Marie's coworkers and best friend

🔆 She invites you over for dinner where you admit to them both that you are trans

🔆 Marie is very supportive but Hank looks at you with a face of confusion and disgust

🔆 He doesn't believe in more than two genders and that you can be a different gender than what you were born as

🔆 He refuses to use your preferred pronouns and tells Marie that he doesn't want you back in his house

🔆 Hank tells his coworkers about you and Gomez gets on to him for being transphobic

🔆 After awhile Hank is indifferent to you at the least and tries to use your preferred pronouns

🏳️‍⚧️💗 BOUNOS 💗🏳️‍⚧️

✨ Kim Wexler ✨

🔆 At first she'll be confused because she thought you were pansexual

🔆 You'll explain to her that gender and sexuality are different and she'll quickly catch on

🔆 Once you tell her your preferred pronouns, she'll immediately start using them

🔆 She'll research all about LGBTQ+ history and current issues and promises to fight against any hate crime related cases for you

🔆 As she furthers he studies of sexuality and gender, she later comes out as non-binary

✨ Lalo Salamanca ✨

🔆 He finds you hotter

✨ Nacho Varga ✨

🔆 You're a cousin of the Salamancas

🔆 You'll befriend him as he seems like the least menacing of Salamanca's men

🔆 After awhile, you'll come out to him and he'll be shocked at first but then happy

🔆 He congratulates you on this big step and that it wasn't easy coming out to a member of the cartel

🔆 He'll ask what your preferred pronouns are and uses them right away

🔆 He eventually asks you to join his polycule

✨ Chuck McGill ✨

🔆 Dies

✨ Howard Hamlin ✨

🔆 You work for HHM as a paralegal

🔆 Howard spots the paperwork for a name change on your desk and questions you

🔆 You come out as trans and he'll be gladly shocked

🔆 He'll ask what your preferred pronouns are and enforce them with the whole company

🔆 He'll even offer to drive you down to the court for you to finalize the name change

(Tumblr has a 10 images per post limit I'm sorry Nacho and Howard 💔)

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bowieandqueen11 · 2 years

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Nacho Varga Confessing His Feelings To You (With A First Kiss) Would Include...

Request: Omg I hope you feel better soon, this sucks so bad :(( oh ALSO question👀 on the nacho post you wrote you were gonna split the hcs into two sets so does that mean we're gonna have more of him at some point??? Because Let. Me Tell. You. Your Nacho hcs were like a literally masterpiece, I genuinely was not expecting to click the read more and be blown away like this WOW. Anyway, just I'd love to read more Nacho from you in the future if you feel like it, your writing is so lovely!

That’s so so kind and sweet and lovely of you :’) Thank you!!! I’m so so glad you enjoyed them, literally Nacho is my sweet boi so it’s so much fun to do!! <3

(I do not own Better Call Saul or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @lousolversons.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Nacho, baby, my poor boy, my rotten soldier, my sweet cheese, I love you so much you deserve the world and everything good in it and so does your Pappi ily king :(

I mean, Nacho (king) is under constant surveillance at all times, 24/7, so getting even within a breath of you without either Fring or one of the Salamancas catching wind of it is pretty much near impossible. Bless his heart, is he going to try though.

He’s tried to leave little notes to you, although its a dangerous game to play and even more perilous line to balance upon: throwing them around the trashcans in the hopes that you’ll see them after picking up your morning coffee at ‘Los Pollos Hermanos’, and before Gus has left his office for the first round inspection of the day. He hands out extra wads of frumpled, obviously well pored over and assiduously crumpled envelopes for Mike to deliver at your doorstep, or leave crammed through your letter box, hidden in plain sight among the rest of the bills and mailers. He leaves notes on the back of Saul’s folded and fray-edged business cards when he slides over to his back office at the nail salon, roping the ‘lawyer’ into playing ‘piggy in the middle’ for your flirtatious little secret back and forth. It earns him a few disgruntled murmurs and the pointed finger wagging in his face telling him off for playing the ‘pathetic school crush card’ when he’s already been roped into the dangerous chess game of cartel business, but Saul does it anyway because ‘he’s a romantic at heart’. Plus, deep down inside (even if his sad doe side eye at a very despondent looking Nacho gives it away), he does want to see the kid happy.

But none of this is enough; Nacho can’t play this game of whispers in the dark anymore. Keeping all this love locked up within him is poisoning his soul. He can’t linger at home anymore, pacing around the shadowed outskirts of his house and wringing his hands with grief, a pale comparison of himself: a ghost haunting himself with his own failures. He feels like his head is about to shatter into a million pieces if he hears the women in the next room over change the television channel one more time. He’s one step away from ruination, as he slides his back down the wall and crumples onto the floor overlooking the thick tangles of brambles past the casement windows of his dining room. Because as much as their company keeps the void from swallowing him whole, they’re not you. They’re not you. They’re not his heart. He feels like he’s bleeding out from every pore, feels it choking out from his eyes as he wipes the wetness away from the edges of his devastated eyes and clasps his hands behind his head. He takes a deep sniffle, and looks up to the heavens, racking his head to find any conceivable way to get through this alive.

He has to take the chance, he finally decides after months and months of restless nights spent lying bright eyed and awake in bed, just staring up and burning holes through the ceiling. He wants his chance to live, he wants to live, not just to survive anymore. The next morning, he takes one last look at his fake ID as he tucks it back into his safe for later, before walking out the door. His hands shake with every step; he checks behind his back every five steps or so in a final scan to make sure he’s not being followed, before he swallows his fear and gets ready to take a step towards the life he’s dying for, no matter if fate may spit in his face and toss him aside with a discarding hand. He slides into his car, pulling out his mobile and calling Mike to clue him into the fact that over the last day or two he’s noticed Lalo Salamanca has made contact with you, and so an extra pair of eyes watching your movements couldn’t hurt security.

To his surprise, the heavy weight of guilt that plagues Mike’s conscience wins out, and he agrees to one night of ‘surveillance’, ‘and I mean one night only, kid. Just to make sure Salamanca hasn’t drawn Y/n into their little plot against Fring.’ He chooses the time and place, of course, but the dingy little abandoned plot the once vibrant and full of life playground rests on isn’t the worst spot in the outskirts of Albuquerque to end up at.

And that is how Nacho Varga finds himself leaning uncomfortably timid against the hood of his car, foot anxiously spurring up the dust. His arms clench as his muscles spasm across his chest, fingers near tearing the skin away as he breathes out heavily in anticipation. He’s not used to being so out in the open, as he glances around the burning desert skies; he’s not used to being so vulnerable, but god would he do it for you over and over and over again. He nearly falls to his knees in relief when your car rolls up to stop just before a flood filled ditch in the ground and you clamber out of the driver’s side with a confused smile lighting your face at the sight of his drenched face.

‘I thought you weren’t going to show up’, he starts as he scratches behind his neck. He looks like a rabbit caught in the headlights, about to run away with his tail tucked between his legs at the first sign of hesitancy or disagreement from you.

‘And miss an opportunity to be babysat for the night by the Ignacio Varga?’ You laugh at how bashful he looks before continuing, ‘Mike said you were so anxious to meet me that you were near blubbering on the phone.’

‘Yeah, he would say that.’ He’s looking westward out towards the far stretch of the golden hazed horizon as he replies sardonically, but he’s still smiling through the words as the two of you, as if drawn by some invisible red band of fate, head over to sit on the quite crooked rusted swing set. You sigh as you take your seat. ‘I hear you’re supposed to watch me for the night. Is that seriously all we can get?’

He blinks slowly, exhaustion set in his bloodshot eyes, before he closes them wearily for a moment. ‘For now, I promise’, he whispers out through tightly pursed lips after a few moments thought. ‘I promise.... But it’s enough - it’s more than enough. It’s everything, okay? This is everything to me.’ He looks so serious as he turns to stare at you tensely through the chained ropes that run past his neck that you can’t help but reach through the barred gap and squeeze his hand. He refuses to let go, never once breaking his gaze from you as he places your intertwined fingers down onto his kneecap as delicate as one might hold the fresh bloom of a spring petal.

The two of you end up kicking your feet across the sand and talking far through the night, not stopping even as the sky begins to burn a mulberry purple and the stars begin to break through the streaks of haloed light that shroud his eyes that glow with ecstasy. He realises, for the first time since his mother had died, he’s spent the whole time smiling.

You catch him glancing down to your lips every few sentences or so, but they always flick right back up to your widening eyes with the sweetest joy in them. It was if his soul was finally being allowed to unlock itself; all the beauty furled up inside of him blooming out through every crevice until it trails around him and roots itself around his body like a desert rose finally beginning to thrive through the drought. Until there’s nothing left of him but the thought, the prayer, the touch of you.

He comes to a breaking point; to the pass of no return, and he can’t hold himself back anymore. So he just leans out over his seat while you’re talking and kisses you between the ropes. For him, for a moment, the world and all it’s vexations seem to stop, and the softness of true life seems to seep in. He focuses in on the small details, trying to etch every single thing he can feel into the recesses of his brain so he can play it on repeat till his dying day: the way his nose is pressed up, squashed against your flushing cheek. How soft, how pliant your lips are despite your surprise, and how tenderly he brushes his bottom lip against your own and feels it set its corners in fire. How cold the tears running down the side of his nose are, despite how alight he is inside. How his breath can’t seem to escape past the gasps of his throat: too busy half-moaning and half-whimpering against your open mouth until you swallow them with your needy lips.

He gasps as you pull away from him to look up tentatively at his closed eyes, and for a moment you think he’s about to pass out with how intensely his face is screwed shut. He just swallows thickly, before surprising you and stomping up and leaving the swing seat thundering in his wake. He’s so flustered, and furious with himself for giving in so easily to something that he knows will only end in heartbreak and exploitation for you: how could he? How could he do anything but get up and leave, to get as far away from you as possible?

Yet you surprise him by skidding to a halt in front of him and cupping his cheeks, bringing him back down to earth by titling his chin down to look at you. You reach up to meet his lips again, and bless his heart, he just lets go in one big sigh and nods with that serious frown in his face when you teasingly whisper against his lips if he was seriously that flustered just by kissing you.

And his hands are shaking from where they cup round to rest against your sides, because he knows this is it. A rose can’t grow without a thorn within its stem, and his will be the death of him. But he doesn’t care. He just couldn’t care less, because while it’s a risky love, Nacho Varga would choose again and again to give all of himself away for you.

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fishylipsblubblub · 2 years

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Lalo Salamanca relationship HCs <333

a/n

i was just thinking that there aren’t enough Lalo head canons so this is my jab at writing some of my own :)

- first of all, Lalo is a massive gift-giver

- like fully expect him to surprise you with something stupid expensive that you’d almost feel bad excepting

- his gifts are always thoughtful though, and he would never buy something for you without being sure it would be something you’d love

- i know this man has a whole ass pinterest board with ideas for gift for you

- his favourite part is just watching your face light up when he gives you something he knows you’ll love

- he is also really into physical touch

- whether it be him just putting his hand on the small of your back while you walk or cupping your chin

- he doesnt go over board in public, but in private-

- essentially he never takes his hands off you in private

- he always wants to remind you he’s there

- Lalo understands that his lifestyle can be dangerous and he never wants you to feel frightened by him

- thats why he seems obsessed with the little details, its because he want you to be as happy with him as possible

- he is sort of old school and wants to do everything right, so he literally tries to woo you

- definitely would show up on your doorstep with a bouquet of roses for you

- more than anything, he wants you to be happy

- dont forget, though, he is extremely protective

- to the point where he would quite literally kill for you

- if he felt like you were threatened, he would go crazy, doing everything he can to protect you

- also, he would do anything to make things go well for you

- say maybe you got a bad grade on a paper, but you were doing great on everything else in that class and you were worried it would affect your final grade

- Lalo would deadasss show up to your professors house

- remember the scene when he was interrogating jimmy about what happened in the desert?

- yeah. he would scare the absolute shit out of them all the while with a huge smile on his face.

- maybe throw in some information about them that there’s no way he could have known

- “oh, and hows your daughter, Chloe? honour roll, wow. you and Cheryl must be so proud, and with Jacob getting an A on his STEM fair project.”

- of course he has people watching their every move lmfao

- “be careful, do the right thing.” he would say finally, his face completely void of emotion.

- your teacher would be scared shitless, needless to say.

- when your teacher approached you after class and told you he made a mistake, you would be over the moon

- “i knew you would do it, cariño,” he’d say, ruffling your hair

- but it was him all along.

- you’d probably never find out, but thats the way he wants it to be

- he loves you more then anything, so dont ever take him for granted.

#lalo salamanca #lalo salamanca x reader #better call saul #lalo salamanca imagine #lalo salamanca imagines #lalo salamanca headcanons #lalo salamanca head canon #better call saul imagines #better call saul imagine #better call saul headcanons #better call saul headcanon #saul goodman #kim wexler #jimmy mcgill

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zv5x · 2 years

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Saul Goodman / Jimmy Mcgill : Yandere • Reader Headcanons (Romanticly centered)

send me your credit card information and ill do Jesse Pinkman warnings : abusive relationships, implied unlawful corruption, jury manipulation, implied stalking and blackmail, toxic mindsets, gaslighting, isolation, abduction, hostage situations and use of the yandere trope

• At the time, calling Saul seemed like your only option. He seemed so promising; flaunting copies of the Constitution in television commercials, sitting in front of an overly patriotic background and promising you justice. When you found yourself standing in front of the prison phone, cops surrounding you, that number was burned into your heart. Before you knew it, you were speaking to the man himself; the man who you hoped held the key to the safe your life was trapped in.

• Whatever charge you're facing, it's his job to prove you innocent beyond a reasonable doubt. You weren't supposed to be a supply of anything non-platonic, you were supposed to get represented and leave his life. You had no bigger connections, no worth on the streets, you were nothing to worry about. You were supposed to be a one time client, another person for him to protect from judgement and set free for a hefty price. Something was different about you, however. Something so different, it made the idea of you leaving his life after the conclusion of the case absolutely unbearable. Maybe it was the way you laughed nervously as you held your cuffed hands up for him to marvel at. Maybe it was the way you smiled exactly when he did, those pretty eyes of yours gleaming against the interrogation room lights. No matter what it was, it was enough to keep him awake at night rereading law books he's already read, ignoring the advice of his peers and Kim in order to practice opening and closing arguments that he knows will land you where he wants you to be; home.

• He wanted to protect you not from just the law, but from the world. Your life story was clear to him, despite never having even been told it. Surely, to turn to a life of crime your upbringing must have been less than ideal. Your life will be picked at and stared at through a microscope, every small mistake your parents or even acquaintances make are immediately used as evidence to support Jimmy's theory; his poor baby, his poor poor innocent baby. Left on the streets, forced to fend for themselves. Whether this is true or not, only you know. The jury will have a spectacle of a case to deal with; a poor innocent citizen, manipulated into a life of crime by the harsh streets and unforgiving economy. Jimmy's deluded perception of you will be all the jury has to fall back on, even if they think his arguments are made up of complete fallacies. Any witnesses brought up by the prosecution are quickly forced into submission with anonymous threats and disturbingly convincing blackmail, and even prosecutors themselves are hesitant to go up against you and your beloved "good-boy" lawyer because of the risk factor surrounding your case.

• The jury, much to your shock, believed whatever story Jimmy had come up with to support the idea of you going free. You were in such disbelief, that you almost found yourself flinching from the sensation gained from Jimmy gripping your shoulder when the not guilty verdict was read aloud for the court. It was normal, was what you thought, even when he kept his hand for longer than he should, rubbing and almost massaging the part of you held in his grip. It's in famous cases and even TV, you learned quickly that a celebratory hug or a comforting one was common. You didn't think about the consequences when you wrapped your arms around him, swinging yourself back and fourth gently and thanking him with a face pressed up against his neck; just like you didn't think of the consequences in the interrogation room when you gave him your home address simply because he asked for it.

• Jimmy came around much more after that. You'd joke around with him, referring to him as your parole officer rather than your former defense lawyer. He didn't seem to mind. In fact, he loved it. You were calling him yours, and that was enough to get his heart racing to a level that concerned even himself. At first, you offered him access to your home simply because you felt bad after being given such a large discount for his services. Then, you considered him one of your closest companions. He's the type of man you feel comfortable venting to, he's the perfect man in fact, and he made it a point to show you that type of man; the type of man you need desperately. Any person you tell him about that he doesn't like the sound of, whether it be because of perceived danger or just a closeness to you, is disposed of via various methods, and Jimmy is happily your shoulder to cry on whenever you need such. He's your whatever whenever, your utility knife if you will. However, sometimes accidents happen, and even a knife as unassuming as that will leave deep scars in its unsuspecting owner.

• He'll sway you with charisma and jokes, inching his way into the door to your life (and, in the literal sense, the door to your home), and staying there without concerns of overstaying his welcome. You're given dinner "dates" (which he promised were a "friend thing"; a celebratory event) and movie binges at your home. Never his place, much to your suspicion, but you never wanted to ask him why.

• Before he was a stranger, then he was your lawyer, and now you're glued to his side on your couch. Time went by quicker than you could have imagined, and "no" didn't seem to be a word you were capable of saying when it came to Jimmy. It wasn't like you were lying when you said you loved him. He's around you so much, always sweet talking you and supporting your own interests. Not only that, but he saved you from nights spent sleeping on a cold prison bed with a roommate who would probably kill you for a cinnamon bun. When all hope seemed trashed and gone, you called Saul and everything was gently taken from your shoulders. You owed him company and love you felt, because that's exactly what he gave to you.

• Within no time, no matter how level-headed you consider yourself to be, you're quickly swept away from all reasoning in favor of following the spoken words of Saul Goodman. If you disobey his wishes, you're a vile criminal who's too tainted by your own actions to be deserving of his love, let alone other's. If you do what he wants however, your past does nothing to define you, and he'll tell you that you're perfect just the way that you are; flaws considered.

• No matter how pure Jimmy thinks you are, manipulation and distortion of your own thinking is not off the table. Whenever he tells you this, he's telling you the truth; Jimmy would do absolutely anything for you, even if that means breaking you. Anything to have you automatically equals what is very best for you. Your critical thinking skills are constantly put into questioning, and Jimmy reasons that you're unable to fend or even think without his constant supervision and help.

• Abduction isn't completely off the table, especially if he feels his original defense of "brainwashed by a criminal society" in your trial proves itself to be surprisingly correct. Jimmy credits himself to be the only one capable of keeping you safe and happy, even if his personal lifestyle choices put you in more danger than you would have been in before. Jimmy will swindle his way into your heart, and when you try and run away from him upon discovering the risk, you're swindled away from human society. Not a single soul will question if Saul Goodman had anything to do with it, and you'll be tied up wherever Jimmy sees fit in no time. You'll be like a small dog in a purse, being drug around bound while whatever family and friends you have left beg for your safe return.

• Intensity during abduction will vary, but will certainly be more suffocating than if Jimmy sees you fit to live freely. A struggling darling will do nothing but anger him, catching him off guard when he sees himself as the only one who's been there for you, saving your reputation and freedom. A complicit darling will pump oxytocin throughout his brain at alarming rates, hitting him right in the heart as soon as you look at him with wide and loving, but still slightly terrified eyes.

• Moments of sobriety are rare, but they do happen. Some days, Jimmy will gently swing open the door to your holding place and crouch down to your level, petting your head as apologies fall from his lips. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't want things to end this way, either. I love you so much, I can't let you go, you know that." Leaving you with a gentle kiss on your forehead, your dinner is served to you with a solemn aftertaste, your tongue affected by the mood of the room moreso than by the taste of the food.

• The moment is gone just as soon as it arrives sadly, and Jimmy is soon back to pushing aside his morals in favor of justifying his cruel and inhumane treatment of the one person he loves more than he loves himself.

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noellawrites · 2 years

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Yandere Lalo Salamanca Headcanons

a/n: sorry these are so long but i cannot help but be a slut for this man

warnings: gun mention, breeding kink, sex, general nsfw content

SFW

- your first mistake was simply walking into El Michoacáno

- this beautiful, sadistic man had set his eyes on you from the moment you swung that door open

- your friendly laugh and eager smile captivated him

- he truly never believed in love at first sight and all that crap until he met you

- he struck up small talk with you just to learn more about who you were

- after finding out you were a broke college student, he handed over an application at lightning speed

- even though they really didn’t need any extra workers since it’s basically a front for the cartel

- but you were none the wiser, so you eagerly took the application and brought it back a week later

- you decided you couldn’t resist the mysterious, charming man that was Lalo Salamanca

- and besides, how harmful could a family man and chef with those eyes be?

- as it turns out, very.

- on your second day, you discovered that your new workplace was the location of various drug deals

- as the only waitress, your hands shook as you smiled and brought food to the men with guns

- Lalo promised that he would always protect you, though, and you believed him

- after you had worked at El Michoacáno for about a week, you’d let it slip to Lalo that you took the bus

- he didn’t ever want you taking the “filthy, dirty public transit” and started taking you back and forth from work in his 1970 Chevrolet Monte Carlo

- one time, the windows were down and a guy in another car whistled at you

- Lalo pulled out his gun and aimed it at the man’s head as he drove away in fright

- moments like this scared you but also majorly turned you on

- it isn’t long before you’re officially dating

- some people at school start to look at you different, as you sometimes bring Lalo around just to hang out

- you start seeing Lalo’s dark side, it doesn’t raise many red flags at first

- but after he establishes rules for you, makes you quit your El Michoacáno job to keep you safe and moves you in with him, it’s already too late

- he barely ever got physical with you, but the first time was when he saw you walking with your lab partner

- he waited for the guy to leave his dorm later and killed him

- then, he came home, still bloody, and slapped you across the face

- he wants you to know that you’re only only person he gets this defensive over, you’re the only one he loves

- he even tries to make you drop out of school at one point, just so you could be with him more

- you vehemently disagree, wishing to finish your degree

- but you are still indebted to him, as he now pays for your schooling, living under his roof, and anything else you could want or need

- he never means to scare or intimidate you, he just can’t control it sometimes

- you find out he’s in the cartel after about two months

- it suddenly made sense: the men with guns at your old job, the piles of money he seemed to have, him leaving randomly in the night sometimes

- he loves seeing you wear his button-downs, even just over a tank top or your pajamas

- it just turns his possessive streak on

- he has your name tattooed over his heart <3

- if you aren’t physically with him, either he is watching you from afar or he has two of his men watching you at all times

- he is very territorial with you and pretty much everyone in Albuquerque down to Mexico knows that

- his house in Albuquerque, though nowhere near as big as his house in Chihuahua, is huge

- it’s a sprawling four-bedroom with a huge pool and the perfect view of the Sandia Mountains

- “If you think this is beautiful, wait until you see the home in Mexico we’ll raise our family in,” he tells you

- he makes it very clear to you that you will give him many little Salamanca’s, and he will make sure you enjoy the process

NSFW-ish

- B R E E D I N G K I N K

- Lalo has a huge family and wants lots of children to carry on the family name

- he also loves your body when pregnant, how both of you know that your body is hard at work growing his offspring inside of you

- his favorite trick is getting you off with his hands, works every time

- he will pin you down and have his way with you literally anytime

- he fucks you so good that there isn’t even a thought left in your head by the time he’s done

- whenever he eats you out (which is a lot, he’s a giver) he loves watching you writhe and moan beneath him

- and his mustache feels so good down there

- he can sometimes get out of control with spanking you, choking you, etc.

- but you just have to tell him and he’ll stop. he doesn’t want to hurt you unless it’s for a punishment

- but the BDE… is true. it’s all true. he’s big but the perfect size. like not too big yk? he works that cock like magic

#lalo salamanca x reader #lalo salamanca headcanons #lalo salamanca #better call saul x reader #better call saul headcanons #better call saul

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depressopax · 1 month

Note

Hiii I saw ur brbcs masterlist and I was thinking on if you could tackle on Howard Hamlin if so, can I request on a cuddling scenario with him? It can be both sfw or nsfw (I’m ok with all of them ^^)

HII thank you sm for your request! I decided to do relationship headcanons too! Hope that works too!(Might be a bit OOC, I’m yet to figure out his character in the show lol 😭) Enjoyyyy <3

Howard Hamlin relationship headcanons

Fandom - Better call Saul

Howard x gn!reader || HC'S

Pairing: Howard Hamlin x gender neutral reader Genre: Fluff, smut, headcanons Warning(s): Sexual content further down (titled NSFW), MDNI! Cuss words, a bit of possessiveness. Reader is gender neutral! Words: 1.4K Summary: Dating Howard Hamlin would include… English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 || AO3 link || Masterlist || Request ||

SFW

First of all… I feel like Howard is a cheesy mf lol

He saw you for the first time when out for lunch between meetings with clients.

It took a couple seconds of eye-contact and he immediately fell in love.

Absolutely dumbfounded by your beauty, he watches you walk to the entrance of the restaurant

He can’t stand the thought of you slipping through his fingers.

Barely knowing what to say or do, he leaves the table (whilst his co-workers staring at him like he was crazy lmao)

When you look at him in confusion, he gives you a sheepish grin, trying to gather his thoughts.

He introduces himself, maybe tells you some damn cheesy pick-up line

Lucky thing for him you find it adorable lmao

He successfully charms you.

Howard then walks back to his co-workers with a stupid grin and a note with your phone number on it.

He’s the person to take you out on fancy restaurant dates (his treat ofc)

Howard spends days before the date - He’s a perfectionist.

First date goes beyond expectations and he starts planning for a second date shortly after.

After a few dates and getting to know each other, Howard’s feelings for you grow stronger.

Luckily so do your feelings for him.

He becomes your boyfriend officially a while after that.

He’s the first one to say “I love you”, which he’s known since the first date.

His work takes up a lot of his spare-time.

Before meeting you, he didn’t care.

He’s a workaholic and working overtime was his way to escape the void of loneliness.

Basically the man that says: “I’m married to my job”

But with you in the picture, he spends less time in the office, and more time with you.

He tries finding a good balance between work and love.

…But eventually he realizes that you are so much more important to him than work.

You make him feel things he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

Seriously, you’ll have to force him to focus on work sometimes or else he’ll totally forget about it lol

As for cuddling…

He L O V E S it

After long days of work, when watching movies, when sleeping, at restaurants…

Basically - Anywhere, any time.

If you have long hair, he twirls his fingers through your hair or simply just brushes strands of hair from your face.

I feel like he gives the best hugs too

If he’s taller than you he likes to hold against his chest and then rest his chin on your head.

Having you in his lap as he wraps his arms around you and holds you close.

It’s his way to relax after a long day at work

When cuddling in bed - Howard likes being the big spoon.

He likes to think he’s protecting you from nightmares and the dangers of the world when holding you - his body being the shield.

Another favorite cuddling position being his head against your chest - the sound of your heartbeat makes him feel calm

He’s a good listener. And also good at reading people, especially you.

He knows if something is wrong and has learnt how to get you to talk without being to pushy about it

Communication is key to him. The worst thing to him is when you shut him out - he wants to be your rock.

Same thing goes for him. When he’s having trouble at work, you’re the first one he goes to for support.

He has a lot of anger and anxiety pent up and you’re one of the few people he trusts enough to vent to.

Howard is VERY overprotective.

He hates it when other people look/hit on you.

He trusts you, but it makes him insecure that you’ll find “someone better” than him.

One of the reasons to why he loves PDA

Holds your hand in public without shame.

Same goes for hugs and kisses.

…Alright, maybe it’s because he likes to brag, too.

He likes it when people see the two of you together. He wants them to envy what he has, that they never can get. *cough* especially around Jimmy *cough*

Like I said earlier… He is cheesy.

He likes buying you flowers and chocolate

Maybe even sending them to your office

He fantasizes about what your wedding will be like.

If you want it too - he’d love to start a family with you one day.

He wants to be a dad one day.

If you were to not want kids tho, he’d suggest getting a cat or dog instead lol

Random headcanon: He’s a cat-lover

To summarize: This workaholic to a man absolutely adores and loves you in all ways possible. Having you around makes him feel a bit more interesting and you never fail to make him feel loved and appreciated.

NSFW

As for the sex-life… 👀

Howard doesn’t have a preference when it comes to being dominant/submissive or top/bottom.

Very adaptable and keen to your preferences.

He doesn’t have that high of a sex drive - he honestly enjoys cuddling and sex equally (bonus points for combining the two)

He sucks at telling you he’s horny tho lmao

Not because he’s good at hiding it.

You’ve learnt what the lust in his eyes means and knows when he’s in the mood.

It doesn’t take much effort for him to get turned on either lmao

Just you doing the most simple things is enough for him to get turned on tbh.

He’s pretty vanilla tbh.

Prefers the classic ol’ positions

Doggy, 69, missionary, cowgirl… You name it

He likes trying new things but also wants to keep it simple.

I feel like he lowkey is a service top 👀

He likes being on top, but merely to focus on your pleasure.

Your pleasure goes before his own - but honestly? He gets turned on by being able to satisfy you

The type of person to come undone from making you orgasm tbh

Howards wants you to push him around a bit - telling what to do and how to do it.

And he’s a quick learner ;)

He’s good at foreplay and knows which buttons to push to drive you wild.

He can and will spend hours exploring your body with his fingers and lips

Make sure to let him know you enjoy what he’s doing tho.

He has a praise kink.

Sure, hearing your moans and making you cum is rewarding enough, but if you praise him too?

Homeboy will be a flustered mess - and it raises his confidence too.

When it comes to oral pleasure, he prefers giving.

There’s something about being on his knees for you, or laying down with his head between your thighs that excites him.

He feels in control when he goes down on you. He can grip you however he wants, tease you for hours and have you completely at his mercy.

If you move and squirm too much, he can easily hold you to his liking.

He becomes more of a dom when he performs oral sex.

Not that you can complain, you’ll be too busy screaming his name as he absolutely destroys you (in a good way dw)

He'll tease you about it afterwards too and not be shy to remind you of how good he made you feel.

Turns into a smug mf after sex

When it comes to receiving head?

It’s one of his favorite things.

It’s satisfying to just lean back and have you take care of his needs.

Sorry but def a head-pusher

…And very sorry and ashamed about if afterwards 😭

Besides that, he trusts you fully and is not picky about how you use your mouth to satisfy him.

As long as it feels good AND he can see your pretty face he’ll love it.

He prefers slow and passionate sex.

That’s why he wants to do it in the bedroom.

Only exception is doing it on the couch or maybe shower if he’s horny enough.

That AND his office for a quickie.

But sometimes, after a long day at work or when frustrated about something, he likes rough sex.

One of the best therapies is thrusting into you with power ;)

Aftercare KING

He makes sure you’re ok and not hurt.

This is also where his bad confidence/insecurities shine through.

“Was it good for you?”, “Did I satisfy you?”

He helps you clean up afterwards and brings you something to drink etc.

Also likes massaging you and bringing you comfort.

He cuddles up to you afterwards, holding you close to him whilst whispering his love and devotion for you.

He falls asleep soon afterwards, but only when he’s sure you’re ok and about to fall asleep too.

Me: Hmmm idk about Howard... This will prob be a short fic! 1.4k words later: Ohh shiii- Also had to fight the urge to spell his name "Hamling" instead because apparently that's what my brain thinks his name is?? 💀

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ricewithbunnies · 1 year

Text

Saul Goodman Pet Play Headcanons

I have no where else to post all the deranged and deplorable ideas that come to my head </3

Probably a part 1 to a series if i think this is good enough :3

This accidentally devolved into a pet play post woopsies (it was meant to be just regular hcs)

Content: Transmasc Reader, Masculine Terms for reader, Dom!Saul, Hes either bi or pan I haven't decided yet :3

CW: Pet play

You guys met from either being friends with Jesse Pinkman, a client, or working with him

First time he saw you he looked you up and down, confused with himself. "Why am i attracted to a man??" type thoughts in his head (poor babygirl)

Upon finding out you're trans, he tries to justify his attractions "W-well its not REALLY gay!!" (it is)

(Also after a while of you two being close he'd probably get PISSED if anyone misgendered you)

Cutting the fluff crap tho he would be an absolute simp for you.

Service Dom whenever hes not feeling rough 🫣

"That feels good, huh? You like that sweetheart? Mmh.. tell me what makes you feel good handsome."

Thigh. Fucking. He'd have you sit in his lap with your pants off during a 15 minute break, pushing his cock inbetween your warm thighs and holding onto you for dear life.

He would buck his hips up into you as he makes out with you and whimpers and when he cums on your thighs he'd clean it up for you ❤️

"Fuck.. f-fuck.. that feels so good darling" as he thighfucks you.

He absent-mindedly says "Good boy" to you one day and you fold.

After that he'd fuck you filthy while saying it

"Good boy.. thats my good boy.. taking it all like a champ.. you like being my good boy, huh?"

Will. Not. Shut. Up.

Constantly in your ear during sex, whispering, moaning, anything to feel your hole tighten around him.

After a while of your intimate relationship, he'd open up about some absolutely filthy kinks.

You'd be unsure at first, but after tje first session, you'd be at his feet begging for more, and he'd eat that shit UPP.

"Yeah? You liked that fucking from Master, huh? You wanna be my good boytoy?"

After that he would get you to quit your job and be a house husband full time, spoiling you with goodies and also in bed.

He'd BEG like a bitch to put a leash on you, giving you the worst case of puppydog eyes.

"Pretty pleaseee 🥺🥺🥺"

He'd make you learn hand commands such as rolling over, taking off clothes, bending over, etcetera.

He'd DEFINITELY put a large pet bed for you under his desk at home.

If he's at home working and having an especially frustrating task to do, afterwards he'd make you take his dick down his throat.

"Ahh.. good boy.. you really know how to make Master feel better huh, pet?"

Would probably get some bougie diamond encrusted pet bowl for you LOL

If you were good for him he'd get you stupidly expensive gifts, just because he can and he enjoys spoiling you.

Possessive as fuck. You two are out and you are talking to someone a little too long? Hoo boy you'll spend the rest of the night tied to his bed with him pounding you into the next day.

"Mine.. all mine.. my pup.. my sweet pet.. you belong to me.. right? Say it. Say you're mine.."

His aftercare would be so sweet though, running a warm, scented bath for you and washing you.

Thank you for reading!

This is my first proper post on here, so i appreciate anyone who read it and even more if you enjoyed. I'm just now getting back into writing fanfic from when i was younger so i appreciate any constructive criticism or advice :3

#better call saul #better call saul x reader #saul goodman #saul goodman x reader #jimmy mcgill #jimmy mcgill x reader #ftm reader #saul goodman smut #better call Saul smut #jimmy mcgill smut #better call saul headcanons #saul goodman headcanons #jimmy mcgill headcanons #breaking bad #breaking bad x reader #breaking bad smut #brba #brba headcanons #breaking bad headcanons

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somethin-stupid-67 · 1 year

Text

BCS HC's because I've been up all night and the brain rot is unreal

JIMMY/SAUL:

(More Saul?) Loves himself a cocktail, the sweeter the better. Fruity cocktails for a fruity little man. Only thing he can’t stand about them is how overpriced they are, no matter where he orders them.

Very strongly considered buying rings when he married Kim. Something about the symbolism stuck with him and really wanted their marriage, business arrangement or not, to present as more “socially official.” Would’ve definitely had them engraved with Wexler-McGill on the inside of the bands, too.

Eventually became pretty good at the guitar. Still struggles with tuning it and has, on more than one occasion, had a meltdown while attempting to replace broken strings.

Loves his white Cadillac, but definitely misses his Esteem.

KIM:

Smokes whatever cigarettes are on hand but is a ride-or-die menthol enjoyer.

The only person allowed to call her “Kimmy” is her mother. Jimmy tried once and wound up in a long, long conversation about her distaste of the nickname.

Similarly, she doesn’t go by her full first name (at least professionally) because she feels it’s too preppy/thinks Kimberly Wexler sounds too much like the name of a ditzy blonde side character in a John Hughes movie.

Talkative drunk. Will have a conversation with anyone about nearly anything. Out for drinks and there’s a game on TV? She’s chatting up the nearest patron about every. single. play. Song she recognizes comes on the radio? She’s breaking down the lyrics, symbolism, and the artist’s motivation for writing it. Will apologize profusely the next morning for “talking too much.” Jimmy, naturally, finds it absolutely adorable and insists she shouldn’t feel bad.

NACHO:

Extremely shy as a child!

Grew up listening to/singing along with classic Mexican love songs and sings them softly to himself when completing any sort of task that doesn’t require a lot of focus. Very few people have actually heard him sing, but those who have all tell him he has a lovely voice.

He’d be lying if he said he disliked Lalo calling him “Nachito.”

Huge fan of an ice-cold Coke Zero.

Easily cries at tv shows and movies, most notably if there’s a trope pertaining to a father and son. Less than five seconds into a commercial for the ASPCA/Humane Society and he has tears in his eyes.

LALO:

In the rare instances he’s able to sleep more than an hour or two at a time, he snores. LOUD. Like, keeping the house up half the night loud.

If it wasn’t for his responsibilities to the “family business,” he would have pursued work as either a professional chef or professional hitman. Yes, the two couldn’t be farther from each other. Yes, they somehow both make total sense.

Would’ve 1000% slept with Nacho or Jimmy if the situation presented itself.

Opposite to Nacho, he was an extremely outgoing child. He was the type of kid to wander off with other children or walk up to total strangers and introduce himself.

Initially bothered by how quickly his hair went grey, but once he found out women (and men) thought it made him more attractive he never gave it a second thought.

HOWARD:

Strong aversion to water. He’ll get into a swimming pool and that’s about it, but even then he won’t go out farther than he can stand. His fear of drowning is the only thing preventing him from becoming a triathlete.

Keeps a photo of his parents in his wallet.

Definitely has anxiety. His tells used to be much more obvious when he first became an attorney (leg bouncing, shakiness in voice) but he has since been able to control it, most of the time. It’s a part of what keeps him up at night, why he’ll always opt for tea, and why he picked up boxing and cycling. It almost never interferes with his work the way it once did, but every now and again he can be seen swiftly pacing around his office or picking the skin around his fingers.

Despite his agility/flexibility, he’s an absolutely terrible dancer. Even in a bout of romance, an after-dinner slow dance in his own home proves he has two left feet.

Mailroom Era Jimmy definitely called him “Pretty Boy” to piss him off. It made him blush and/or stutter every time without fail and it took both Chuck and his father to convince him that Jimmy was insulting him and didn’t mean it as a compliment.

#better call saul #bcs #bcs headcanons #better call saul headcanons #jimmy mcgill #saul goodman #kim wexler #nacho varga #lalo salamanca #howard hamlin #the brainrot is real #this show is ruining me

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inkybinkyboink · 11 months

Text

better call saul knitting headcanons >:)

k i did this for breaking bad but like im cooler now so im gonna do it for bcs

jimmy: i think his mom tried teaching him but he never took to it. the only time he’s used yarn is for pranks on friends, tripping over a chord, that kind of thing.

kim: hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i wanna say yes but i know the answer is no she just...idk man. it doesnt seem like her thing. i could maybe see her quilting???

chuck: pfft. yeah. loser.

howard: no but he watches chuck with amour and adoration.

nacho: i said this last time and i’ll say it again. this bitch sews in canon so YEAH he would knit. big intimidating man knitting? fucking 1000% yes.

lalo: for some reason his brain cant function with two needles, but he can wrap his head around crochet, so i think he crochet’s. but only exclusively blankets because he’s insanely patient like that.

werner: ok i have this headcanon that werner knits, and it just like. it works so well ok. like. knitting can get really mathy really quick and i feel like he’s the kind of person to make formulas for hats and socks and stuff and like ahhh it just :,)

rich schweikart: yeah! yknow how cliff main has his whole guitar thing? i think rich knits! that would be funny and cute ok lowkey i fucking stan rich schweikart.

bill oakley: bill oakley thinks he’s the best fibre artist in the world but then wonders how he added 5 extra stitches and why his project is completely lopsided (it’s awful, there’s holes, his tension isnt consistent, but he’s too stubborn to ask for help)

paige novick: she knits and crochets baby clothes :)

#also i think kims husband in florida glenn knits #and also tyrus #better call saul #better call saul headcanons #jimmy mcgill #kim wexler #nacho varga #lalo salamanca

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slamminslamminmcgill · 6 months

Text

got silly goofy high and had an epiphany 😌 (had this cookin in my drafts for weeks yk how it be)

warning: breeding kink, piss kink, spit kink, intox, degradation/slurs

anatomical terms: pussy/cunt, t-dick

“Oh, god, you feel so good… Feels so fucking good, you little whore… You do this often? Spreading your legs for any old man who buys you a drink? Betcha have some real daddy issues, don’tcha, boy?”

Lalo grabbed your chin and spat in your face as he fucked you up against the bathroom stall.

“Slut.”

In response, you reached out and pulled him in closer, sobbing with pleasure into his shoulders. You squeezed him as tight as you could, inside and out. Your chests pressed together as your vice of a cunt milked him dry.

Lalo growled, stabbing his coke nails into your hips and viciously thrusting into you, his balls slapping into your t-dick, the two of you jiggling the flimsy lock on the stall that threatened to give way. “Oh, te pinche putito… Ngh, voy a venir… Voy a venir dentro de tí… Voy a llenarte y poner un pinche bebé en tí, joto… Mmm, te vas a estar tan lleno… Tan lleno de mi leche… (Oh, you little fucking slut… Ngh, I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna cum inside you… Gonna fill you up and put a fucking baby in you, faggot… Mmm, you’re gonna be so full… So full of my cum…)”

You had no clue what he was saying, but it sounded fucking hot. He wasn’t talking to you, moreso at you. This wasn’t a balanced exchange; you were just a hole, one of many he could’ve picked to empty himself in. Your limp body dangled in his arms as he used it, a lifeless sex doll for his sole pleasure. He jerked himself off with your pussy until he came with a loud-

“Fuck!”

And boom goes the dynamite. His hot cum spurted inside you, filling you up just like he said he would. As he flooded your hole, both of your brains flooded with dopamine. That physical satisfaction came alongside mental gratification, reinforcing this debauched behavior. You’d surely seek it out again.

Lalo laughed in delight as the relief washed over him. “Oh… Hah… Haha… Phew, you’re incredible, kid. Best fuck I’ve had in a really long time.” He swept your hair out of your face and tenderly kissed you on the forehead. “I’m gonna pull out now, okay?”

“Nonononono, keep it…” you whined, your limbs locking around his back, “K-Keep it iiin…”

“Aww, you’re precious, honey…” He cooed, peppering kisses along your neck. “But I have to piss, so I kinda have to take it out…”

For some stupid reason, maybe it was the cocktail of substances and the myriad levels of pleasure you were dealing with, or maybe just the immaturity of “haha piss funny”, you started snickering. A lot.

”Oh?” Lalo inquired, “What’s so funny, chiquito?”

The haze of goofy laughter dissipated, and what cast it away was the bright light of an idea. A sick, sinful, salacious idea. “Do you… Do you have to take it out?”

That made Lalo snort. He chuckled, shook his head, and replied, “Oh my god, no. No, baby, you don’t want that. I can’t do that to you… You’re too cute for that…”

You mewled with disappointment, hiding your face in his neck out of shame and praying to whatever god may be that you didn’t make this weird.

Lalo sweetly stroked your hair and sighed. “Look at me.” He commanded, snapping his fingers and you obeyed, picking your face up from the shadows. “You really want it?”

You nodded, your big puppy dog eyes bulging with need.

“Say please.”

“P-Please…”

“Please, who?”

Shit, what was this guy’s name again? He definitely told you… Oh, yeah. “Lalo… P-Please, Lalo…”

“Please, Lalo, what?

Oh, god, he was gonna make you say it? Beg for it, even? …Eh, whatever. Fuck it. “P-Please, Lalo… P-Pee inside me…”

“Good boy.” Lalo pressed his lips to yours. “I will, since you asked so nicely.”

For a few moments, everything was still. Nothing outside the bathroom stall existed, let alone mattered to you right now. All that mattered was Lalo’s cock throbbing inside you. You waited, and waited, you weren’t sure for what. Then, the signal came.

Lalo grunted, “Here it comes, baby.”

And so it did. The most prominent sensation was the intense heat pooling inside your debased hole, filling up what little space there was around his cock. You squirmed and squeaked, gripping his floral shirt in your fists.

“Fuuuck, Lalooo… so waaarm…”

“I know, right?” Lalo dotted more wet kisses along your jaw and neck. “You like it?”

“Mhmmm…”

“Good boy…” He praised, petting your hair while he pissed inside your pussy. You were so full. It was so hot. The pressure was becoming too much to bear. “I’m almost done, honey. You’re taking it so well. You ever do this before?”

You shook your head. “N-No…”

“Well, get ready. It’s about to get even better.”

You were left pondering the meaning of that remark for maybe a second, until his still-hard cock slid halfway out of your hole. His hot piss gushed out and splashed onto the floor. The release of pressure and heat felt like nothing you had ever experienced. You trembled, moaned, and drooled as he slammed his cock back in, picking up where he’d left off: fucking you stupid.

Lalo hissed obscenities in your ear as he fucked you with renewed vigor. “Ngh, qué asco… No creo… No creo que me dejaste hacer eso… Ahh, Acabo de mear en tu chocho, te pinche puto estúpido… Qué un… Mmm, qué un cerdito sucio que eres… (Ngh, so gross… I can’t… I can’t believe you let me do that… Ahh, I just pissed in your cunt, you stupid fucking whore… What a… Mmm, what a dirty little piggy you are…)”

Dripping with piss and cum, you spared a thought for the janitor who’d have to clean this stall later. Hopefully, they wouldn’t know it was you.

#piss kink #lalo salamanca smut #lalo salamanca x reader #lalo salamanca #lalo salamanca hcs #lalo salamanca imagine #lalo salamanca headcanons #bcs #bcs x reader #better call saul #better call saul x reader #better call saul imagine #better call saul smut #better call saul headcanons #better call saul hcs

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waltywhitey · 3 months

Text

💔 Lalo suffering with erectile dysfunction for the first time with his S/O 💔

Warnings: reference to sex

⚡You and Lalo have been together for 4 years at this point -- you have always preferred older men.

⚡Whilst in the middle of a heated make out session, he notices that he's feeling no movement down there.

⚡He'll think that it's not a big deal until you're on top and he's still not hard.

⚡ Although horny, you'll ask him what's wrong and if you aren't arousing enough.

⚡ He'll rub your back while trying to calm you down from feeling self conscious, using cute pet names like princesa, mi vida, cucaracha, piojita.

⚡After 3 hours of edging, he still can't get it up.

⚡Over the next 5 days, you try every grapefruit and trick in the book you can to make him have an erection, but he's still not able to.

⚡ He's devastated when he realizes he's suffering with erectile dysfunction.

⚡ He'll confide in you about feeling like less of a man and that it's okay if you want to break up with him for someone younger.

⚡You won't leave him because you're into older men and knew that this would happen eventually.

⚡The next day, you give Lalo a gift to cheer him up, telling him it's for his troubles.

⚡Lalo opens the present to see you've gifted him a box of Viagra.

⚡He beats you up for making him feel worse about his condition.

#lalo salamanca x reader #lalo salamanca #lalo #better call saul headcanons #better call saul #headcanons #x reader #breaking bad headcanons #lalo salamanca headcanons #bcs #bcs lalo #lalo imagines #imagines #better call saul imagines

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leahs-workshop · 2 years

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I wake up to an empty bed. It's barely bright outside, just the early morning. You can hear birds happily chirping outside, delighted to announce a new day. They shall keep me company while you're not there. Already feeling it's not gonna be my day, I stay in bed a little longer, noticing your side of it is already cold. While it is depressing to wake up like that, if you leave while I'm asleep, I get fewer hours of worrying about you.

I feel like I need you right now, and I know I have to find something to take my mind off of it. Still, I'm so tired that there's no way I'll do anything. I roll over onto my back and sigh, staring at the ceiling. I feel as though the light is mocking me by shining brightly down on me when I don't even want any. A thought starts running through my head. The first person who could be good at distracting me with something else comes into my mind, and of course, it's you. Unfortunately, you're busy. That's your line of work, I guess. Day or night, you gotta be ready to both kill and die. At least that's the easiest way to describe it.

But sometimes I wonder if that's all there is to your job, if there really is a goal, or if you actually just enjoy doing this. I mean, it is what you do best.

You're always on edge, never taking time off from killing, plotting, arranging and... whatever else. It scares me to think about what might happen if someone else got the upper hand. I can't bear the thought. While I accepted the gamble, that fear still hunts me. Either way, I'd rather not know all the details. So I'm stuck wondering. What happens when I'm away and you have full freedom to do anything? When you can take as much time as you want or come back covered in blood? How bad does it get?

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fishylipsblubblub · 9 months

Text

The Silent Observer, Chapter 1

When you get hired at El Michoacano, you quickly discover that not all is as it seems...

A/N: This one has been marinating in my google docs for a long ass time because i wasn’t really sure how i felt about the beginning, but i kinda just realized theres no point in writing fanfic if im not gonna post it, so here y’all go. btw i’m planning for this one to be long AF

Pulling out of the McDonalds drive through, I turned onto the road. I tried for a second to open the lid of my coffee, but decided it was a bad idea and set it in the cup holder. I exhaled and gripped the wheel until my knuckles were white. Rain drops pummeled the windshield as I drove onward. The weather was uncharacteristically rainy for New Mexico, but the rain was a welcome sight. The constant heat got on my nerves all the time since I’d came here.

“Hi, my name is y/n l/n,” I practiced. “I’m here for the interview. Yes, I would like some water, thank you. My biggest weakness? I’m too hard working. No, wait, that’s cliche. And not even true. No, my biggest weakness is.. I usually wake up after 12, and employers don’t generally like that.” I heaved an exasperated sigh. “They’re never going to hire me.”

My intention was to collapse my head into the steering wheel dramatically, but instead I hit the horn with my forehead and scared myself. I sat up straight immediately, and timidly waved an apology at the driver next to me who was now giving me a dirty look.

I reached over to the cup holder to grab my coffee without taking my eyes off the road. The rain was unceasing, and I didn’t want to run the risk. Instead of grabbing the coffee, I hit it with my hand and knocked the entire contents onto the back seat and all over my phone. I looked back just in time to see it light up one last time, the screen glitching and malfunctioning. Then, it turned to black, dead.

“Oh, no! Come on, there’s no way.” My lip quivered threateningly, but I took a very deep breath, stopping any tears that might have come. Looking back to the road, I realized I was drifting into the other lane. Without a thought, I swerved, but lost control on the wet road and went straight into the ditch.

My chest slammed into the steering wheel. I sat in the car for a moment, just waiting. I knew there was nothing I could do, and that what’s done is done, but I still waited. Finally, I got out of the car. I was right in front of a small Mexican restaurant called El Michoacano. Maybe I can use their phone, I thought.

When I entered the restaurant, it was almost completely empty. There were three men sitting in the dining room, each at different tables. Two of them looked like gangster types, and one looked like he could possibly be a chef, with his apron. I walked past them and toward the counter. Another man was back in the kitchen, and it looked like he was cooking something but he had stopped when I came in.

The man was tall. His hair was black, with a single streak of silver. He was dressed in the least conspicuous clothing imaginable. A silk button down with some of those pointy leather shoes.

“Excuse me,” I choked, realizing that there were tears falling down my cheeks. He came over and leaned on the counter.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. I just ran my car into the ditch outside. Do you think I could use your phone to call a mechanic or something?”

“It’s just back here, in the kitchen. Here, this way,” he said, leading me into the kitchen. When I got to the phone, it was one of those old fashioned wall-mounted things. As I dialed the number, I turned back to lean on the wall. With a full view of the dining room, I saw the gangster’s heads both whip around so that they weren’t looking at me.

With a tow truck on the way, I sighed and wiped the mascara off my cheeks.

“I’m sorry about your car,” the man said.

“It’s okay. Nothing I can do now. Thanks for the phone.”

“Hey, take a seat. I just finished some tacos, you want one?” He asked.

“Yeah, thanks.” I sat down, and he followed with two plates and sat down across from me.

“Rough day? I get it. Eat your taco, it’s getting cold,” he said gesturing at the food in front of you.

“So much for my interview,” I said, swallowing a bite of the taco. “Sorry, ignore me. I haven’t had such a good couple of days. Oh, my name is y/n, by the way.”

“My name is Eduardo. Did you say you were looking for a job?”

“Yes, why?” I asked, looking up from my food.

“I’m looking for a server. You think you might be up for it?” He got up and went over to the kitchen, coming back with a paper.

“Fill this out, and bring it back to me,” he said, giving me the application.

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Eduardo.”

“Please, call me Lalo.”

“Thank you, Lalo.”

The moment was almost shattered by a contemptuous gaze that one of the men in the dining room was giving Lalo. He pretended like he didn’t see, and continued.

“I think that’s your truck pulling up.”

***************

It was sort of a plain dress. Black, short sleeved. The skirt went down maybe halfway to my knee. Of course, a small “El Michoacano” was printed over the breast. I flattened the front of my uniform and checked my bag. Yep, I have everything, I thought. Then, I was out the door, down the street, and at the bus stop. My car was taken to the junkyard when I couldn’t pay for the repairs.

“Hey, you made it,” shouted Lalo from the kitchen over the wafting sound of Mexican music. He tossed a towel over his shoulder on his way over to me and turned down the music slightly.

“You excited?”

His enthusiasm was contagious, and I grinned a smile in response.

“Of course I am.”

“Alright, let’s get to it. That guy over there,” he said, pointing at the middle-aged man sitting at a table in the corner. “He’s the chef around here, and honestly, should be training you. But, he doesn’t speak too much english. So, you’re stuck with me.”

“So what should I start with?” I asked, looking around the dining room. It was empty today, excluding the man in the corner.

“I was thinking we’d take a look in the kitchen, see where things are kept. Then, you and I will have a chat about the rules here. You know, it doesn’t usually get too busy around here, so there isn’t much for you to worry about.”

Lalo walked back into the kitchen and showed me the cupboards. He listed off what they contained, and opened some of them to show me.

“The plates and bowls go here,” he said, opening one of them. “Make sure you stack the little bowls on the little bowls and the big ones on the big ones. Don’t mix them.”

“Okay, got it. And the cups..?”

“-Go right here,” he finished swinging another cupboard open. “I don’t expect you to remember all of this. It’s gonna take some time. Don’t hesitate to ask me a question.” He started toward the door to the dining room, tapping my elbow as he passed to tell me to follow. I complied. On the way out, I looked back at the cupboards and silently quizzed myself. Bowls, plates, cups.

“Have a seat,” Lalo said, gesturing toward a chair. I sat down and looked up at him as he sat across from me.

“So you really weren’t lying when you said that it doesn’t get busy in here,” I said looking around at the nearly empty dining room. The man in the corner seemed to be completely in his own world as he read a week-old Mexican newspaper.

“Nah, not really. The guys that were in here last week? They’ll be back in…” he checked his watch. “About an hour or so.”

“What, are they regulars or something?” I asked, remembering the odd way they seemed to be together but sat at different tables.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. So, you’ll notice people coming in and out of here a bit. You’ll know what I mean when you see it. There’s not many rules here, but the one you need to remember is this.” he leaned in closer as he continued. “Don’t worry about them. You don’t even need to take their order. Just stay back and leave them alone.”

He said it all in a calm, even tone. His eyes were fixed on mine the whole time, and they didn’t move.

“Who are they?”

“Friends.” The tension in the air as he said those words was so tight you could have cut it with a knife. His expression was so deadly serious, and he had this way of perfectly controlling the emotions of his words as he said them.

“The tough looking guy sitting in the back yesterday? His name is Nacho. You’ll get to know him eventually, but he’s a little shy. The other one is Domingo. I’m sure he’ll introduce himself when he gets here.”

Suddenly, Lalo leaned back and broke the tension in half with a smile.

“That’s my little lecture. Bored yet?”

“Not yet.”

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

“Really? You think I don’t talk much?” As I said that, I realized my mouth was sort of dry. “Usually people tell me I’m a chatterbox.”

“I’ll have to see that to believe it,” he laughed. “It’s about noon. You hungry? Another perk of this job. Free food.”

Without even waiting for my affirmation, he was back in the kitchen and the music was turned up again. Determined to make myself useful, I followed.

“Want help?” I called over the music.

He turned around from the tomatoes he was chopping, surprised.

“Yeah, you can do this,” he said, pointing to the chopping board. “There’s some lettuce over there, and the steak will need to be chopped too. I have to cook the meat first, so I’ll give it to you once I’m done.”

I got going, messily dicing the tomatoes. I tried my hardest to make them all at least even shapes and sizes, and I did decently okay for someone who has absolutely to idea what they’re doing. With the blade of the knife, I slid the tomatoes to the side of the board and took up the lettuce.

Lalo was, to say the least, enthusiastic about his cooking. He was loudly singing along to the music on the radio, and his excitement was spreading to me. Even if I didn’t know the words, I was singing along with him. It was impossible not to.

As Lalo warmed the tortillas on the frying pan, he was passing them to me and I was building the tacos.

“This is something I need to do again,” I said as we carried the plates out into the dining room.

“I can show you a thing or two about cooking, if you want. Like I said, there’s not a whole lot that needs to be done around here. You’re gonna have a lot of free time.”

The door to El Michoacano swung open, and in walked one of the men I saw yesterday. Lalo walked up to him and clapped him on the back.

“Ocho loco, you remember this girl from last week?” He looked at me and smiled slightly.

“Hi, I’m Domingo,” he said, shaking my hand.

“Y/n,” I responded. Lalo handed him the plate in his hand.

“Here, this is for you, made especially by y/n,” Lalo said with a cheeky smile in my direction.

“Oh come on, I barely helped.”

“Thanks, y/n,” said Domingo, walking over to the table he was sitting at the other day.

“Does he always sit there?” I whispered to Lalo as we sat down at the table closest to the counter.

“Yeah. Remember what I said earlier? About leaving them alone? That goes for Domingo too.”

“So, you want to me to like, ignore him when he comes in?”

He laughed and said “No, nothing like that. Just don’t go up and bother him while he’s working. And don’t eavesdrop. Especially don’t eavesdrop.”

I sat in silence and ate my taco, mulling over what he’d said. ‘Don’t eavesdrop’? What was that supposed to mean? What could Domingo and the other guy, Nacho, was it? What could they be doing that was so secretive?

I jolted my head up when I heard the door swing open again, this time with more force.

“What’s up Nacho,” Domingo greeted the man walking in.

He didn’t even look in my direction. He walked straight to the table he was at last time I saw him and sat down.

“He’s like that,” Lalo whispered to me. “Nachito, come say hi to the new waitress,” he said, raising his tone.

Nacho turned his head toward me and simply said “Hi.” I could tell he already didn’t like me, but I couldn’t tell why. Suddenly, I remembered the look he gave to Lalo when he offered me the application.

“Why don’t you sweep the kitchen floor? The broom is back there,” he said, waving his hand toward the kitchen but not looking away from Nacho.

I followed his orders, but the strongest sense of suspicion guided me toward the kitchen.

This is when I broke my first rule. I stood as close as I could to the door so I could hear what they were saying. Lalo’s eyes followed me toward the kitchen and watched me carefully before he got up and sat directly next to Nacho and started speaking very quickly and quietly in Spanish.

I risked a look up at the pair, trying to figure out what they were saying from their expressions. Nacho was sitting cross-armed and looking up at Lalo with a quirked eyebrow. Words were exchanged, but the only ones I could pick out were “quieres” and “tienes”, “you want” and “you have” respectively. Unsurprisingly, these were some of the only Spanish words I knew.

Lalo was leaned forward on the table, his gaze fixated on the man across from him.

“Compredes?” He said at last. “Understand?”

“Sí, Lalo,” Nacho responded. I leaned my broom against the wall and came back into the dining room. Domingo was just sitting still, staring directly at the wall. He had the look of someone who had just sat through a very uncomfortable conversation. Lalo sighed and patted Nacho rather aggressively on the shoulder. Then I heard tires on the pavement outside, and a giant truck pulled up outside the restaurant.

“Y/N, you can do some stocking in the cupboards. There’s not much work for you out here.”

I had the distinct impression that this was going to be one of those times in which I should not be eavesdropping. I disappeared into the pantry behind the kitchen and tried to ignore the man walking in as much as possible.

That was the rest of the day. I hid in the back while men came in and out of the restaurant, from time to time Lalo would ask how I was or what I was getting up to. No customers came in. Not one. The bus ride home felt so much longer than the one there. My mind was racing with ideas as to what could be going on there.

No matter what I thought of, the same thought kept returning to me. Something dark must be going on, and somehow I had gotten caught up in it.

***************

“Why don’t you sweep the kitchen floor? The broom is back there,” I said. I studied Nacho carefully. Out of my peripheral, I saw her hesitate and then turn around. I turned to watch her leave, double checking to see that she was out of earshot before snapping my head back toward Nacho.

“You know exactly why I hired her,” I hissed softly in Spanish.

“I meant you should hire someone connected, not an outsider! Someone’s daughter or niece. You don’t even know this girl, she could be an FBI agent,” Nacho retorted, wrinkling his nose in distaste. The corners of my lips twitched upward.

“I’ve been following her since she first stepped foot in this building. Believe me, she isn’t FBI. I didn’t choose her at random. The look of pure desperation on her face told me she needed money, fast. She’d do anything for it. She won’t tell, believe me.” Nacho raised an eyebrow at me, a frown forming on his face.

“I’m just saying that you shouldn’t put your trust into someone who you don’t even know. She has no reason to be loyal to us. She could turn at any minute.”

“I have a plan,” I said simply, looking back at the girl. She was staring very decidedly at the floor where she was sweeping.

“What’s that, then?”

“All in good time, Nachito,” I smiled at him. “But now, you must be civil to her. I don’t care if you don’t like her, you must be polite, comprendes?”

Nacho sighed and responded “Sí, Lalo.”

#bcs #lalo salamanca #lalo salamanca x reader #lalo salamanca imagine #lalo salamanca imagines #lalo salamanca headcanons #saul goodman #Better Call Saul #better call saul headcanon #better call saul headcanons #better call saul imagine #better call saul imagines #nacho varga

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zv5x · 2 years

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"Rule 1.4" (Yandere!Saul Goodman: Romantic-centered scenero)

hello again, breaking bad fandom !

warnings //::// use of the yandere trope , unhealthy relationships and unwanted advances , drugging , abduction , restraining , manipulation and abusive mindsets , slight/subtle victim blaming / mocking

For what was happening, it was more than simply suspicious that breathing was becoming so terribly difficult. Wine glass in your hand, your pounding head turned to face your houseguest for any explanation as to what was happening. He turned to you with a smile, laughing as he gave his head a gentle shake.

"Why the wide eyes? You're fine." Sipping his own drink, Jimmy exaggerated the exhale that followed. "You're gonna be fine. I promise." The slight exaggeration of the word promise almost sounded mocking to you, but your mind quickly pushed that aside in favor of the more important matters at hand. As you would have put it verbally if you were able to; what the hell was going on with your body?

It was practically falling apart with every second that passed, your form further slumping until Jimmy had to be the one to push you back up and demand you "stop fighting already".

You knew that it was against general etiquette to let your house guest fix your drink for you. You insisted, practically begging Jimmy to sit down and let you handle everything. He insisted, and sounded so convincing doing so as well.

You never recalled the world around you being so distorted.

Decorations were smearing in appearance, colors mixing in with the floor and the wall. Sweat spawned in pools on your ice cold forehead and you tried reaching your hand out to hold Jimmy's, though your lack of depth perception resulted in you barely even grasping his inner thigh. Through your blurred hearing, you heard him laugh, though it sounded muffled and distorted. It was almost as if the two of you were underwater, and your brain was too busy shutting down to question the optics of your situation.

Jimmy grabbed your hand as he knew well that you could not, squeezing it gently and rubbing little circles on your skin with his finger. Right as the last bit of consciousness slipped away from you, he leaned in and wrapped his arms around you, Jimmy gave a sound to signal his supposed relief. "Jesus, fuck." He gave you a gentle kiss on the top of your head, trailing his hand across your mostly limp body, with the acception of a few twitches. "Finally."

And with that, you were gone, and now Jimmy had to deal with the transportation aspect of his plan. First however, he just needed a moment to look at you. With a slow series of motions, you were removed from his lap and placed in a laying position as Jimmy removed himself from the couch.

He swallowed hard. You were absolutely perfect in this position. Eyelids completely shut as your lips stayed parted ever so slightly, arms and shoulders slumped; you were completely at his mercy. Perhaps that was the way it always was, and you laying knocked out on your couch was just the physical manifestation of such. It was so difficult to get you in this position, so he had to forgive himself for taking as long as he was to marvel at the sight.

To say finally winning this game of cat and mouse was satisfactory would be an understatement for Jimmy.

You were too shy and reclused to speak to him after he won the case that prompted you to call him, too professional to accept his dinner proposals at first, and you were almost too good of a host to let him prepare your drinks for you. So many times he was either close to being found out, or denied the oppertunity to see you entirely. For too long he was denied you. He just couldn't take it anymore.

It felt like yesterday you first called him, asking for something as simple as help getting out of a traffic violation. If only you had called him sooner, for he was able to quickly rationalize that you had no idea how to run your life like you should. The life you led was far different in quality to the kind Jimmy could offer you, but you almost fucked it all up with that blood boiling resistance. Maybe it was just in your nature, or maybe it was an internalized hoax spawned from Jimmy's desperation to have you. Whatever it was, it led him to the conclusion that you were in no state of mind to make decisions for yourself. Not without his help, anyways.

So, into the trunk you went.

It took you hours to finally regain control of your body, innocently sleeping as you were hauled off to a place you had no knowlage of. Even your hungover, weak body was able to feel the uncommon feeling of consternation immediately upon awakening.

"I really gotta be truthful with you."

With a terror-struck expression, you snapped your head upwards just to be met with a gentle smile. Jimmy stood proudly at the other side of the dark room, turning on a lamp while twirling the cord around his fingers. It wasn't until that smile burned it's way into your brain that you realized what had happened, and anger bubbled up inside of you like a pot of boiling water for every second you stared at that vile, satisfied grin of his.

Your wrists mindlessly tugging at the ropes that binded your body intricately, you couldn't help but feel absolutely disgusted at the idea of being fondled in order to get the ropes to tug at your body so suffocatingly. From the fact he did this to you in the first place, you had a feeling he would not have passed up the oppertunity, and the helpless feeling would have been enough to bring you to your knees had you been standing up. Whimpers escaped your lips, though all the desperate sounds you made were muffled by the gag Jimmy had also stuffed in your mouth.

"If you're stupid enough to get yourself in this situation in the first place, you're just not fit for the real world at all. I'm sorry I gotta be the one to tell you that, but look," he gave you a laugh of both understanding and pity, reading the look in your eyes but ignoring the details that didn't convenience him and his own selfish narrative. "I get it. Last thing you remember you're drinking your wine, next thing you know you're all tied up in God knows where. See? I get it. I'm on your side here."

You shook your head, disbelief your bodies aura. Saul scoffed. "You need this more than you realize, baby. You're too stupid and gullible for the real world. How did you not figure out what was happening when I wouldn't even let you in the kitchen? What, did you think I had an early birthday present for you? Or were you just not thinking about anything at all? You need me to do this kind of shit for you, you need someone with sense. That's why you called me to begin with, you needed me. You needed me from the beginning."

Jimmy scrunched up his forehead as you continued to shake your head, and he immediately picked up on the sound of crying. What he felt you needed was a lesson to be more careful around people, a lesson that helped you see that he was the only one fit for protecting you, but a small bit of comfort wouldn't hurt. In fact, he wanted you to get all the crying and the squirming out of your system now, for if he tries to touch you about a week from now and you're still flinching, he fears he'll say something that he knows will really hurt you. Jimmy's intention isn't to hurt you, contrary to your own beliefs. His intention is simply and solely to keep you for himself, where he knows you're under his supervision at all times.

Footsteps echoed against the floor as Jimmy reached where you were positioned, getting down on his knees and cupping your face in his hands. The smile he gave you was an attempt to be sweet, but you could just about taste the smug bitterness it radiated. "It's called tough love, sweetheart. You need it. You need me."

Jimmy was right. Tough love it was.

The quick bit of care ended with a kiss on the forehead, getting back up barely a minute after he knelt down in the first place. Ignoring your whines and muffled begs, Jimmy made his way for the exit, giving you one final glance before he left.

"Dinners in an hour, don't miss me to much!"

With that comment past his lips, Jimmy was gone, and it was back to black.

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