#jesse pinkman fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ichorai · 1 year

Text

sunlight ; jesse pinkman.

track thirteen of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; jesse pinkman x gn!reader

synopsis ; yellow was not a color he often saw in alaska. that was, until you came into his life.

words ; 4.2k

themes ; fluff, angst, slice of life, writer au

warnings / includes ; breaking bad & el camino spoilers, mentions of death/walter/drugs/the nazi group that imprisoned him, jesse is just Traumatized, reader is a sweetheart, jesse befriends a Cat <3

main masterlist.

The color yellow often resurfaced bad memories of his past. Yellow were the hazmat suits he wore with Walt when they cooked meth. Yellow were Jane’s bed sheets when she overdosed right next to him. Yellow were the broiling sands of New Mexico—a place he once called home.

Now that he was in Alaska, yellow was a color he scarcely ever saw. And for that he was glad. Mostly, it was white. With snow—with clouds. Maybe a dash of brown and grey here and there, alongside the occasional green once in a while.

It was quiet. Peaceful.

After everything, a bit of peace was all that Jesse needed.

That is, until you came along.

The first time he met you, you were decked out in an array of soft canary-hued clothes, certainly a sight that he wasn’t expecting at all. You were smiling brightly, so wide that it was a wonder your face hadn’t split into two. There was a basket in your hands, which held nothing other than around a dozen ripe lemons.

“Urm, hello?” Jesse hesitantly greeted, opening the door wider.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. Sorry for dropping by all of a sudden—I live around five minutes away, and there’s barely anybody that lives near me other than grouchy old Bob, so when I found out someone had moved into this shabby little cabin, I just couldn’t help but stop by! Here, I got you a little house-warming gift. I hope you like lemons!” You held the basket out to him, still beaming ever so kindly.

Awkward, Jesse took the lemons from you, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ah, thanks. I’m Jared. Jared Driscoll.”

“Well, it’s really nice to meet you, Jared. Hope it’s not weird for me to say that it’s great to see a young face around,” you told him, rocking back on your heels. “Most people living around here are over sixty.”

Memories of Walter, Saul, and Mike flashed in the back of his mind, and he could nearly feel the physical pressure weighing down on his chest. He squared his jaw and pushed the thoughts away.

“Yeah,” replied Jesse, nodding. “Thanks again, for, uhm, these.”

He was just about to shut the door again, mentally smacking himself for being so tongue-tied, before you gently asked, “If you’re not doing anything tonight, I’d love to have you over for dinner. No pressure, though, I’d totally understand if you’d want to settle in first.”

No, was right on the tip of his tongue. No thanks, I’m a little busy with unpacking my stuff. I mean, I don’t have any stuff, but you don’t need to know that.

But the words caught in his throat. You looked so hopeful, your hands clasped behind you and your eyes wide with excitement. You were still smiling—how were you still smiling? His eyes darted down to your yellow cardigan rustling with the frigid Alaskan wind.

“Uhm, alright,” he replied, shooting you a tight smile that came off more like an uncomfortable grimace than anything, but at least he was trying.

Somehow, you seemed to brighten even more at his response.

“Cool, is seven okay with you? I still need to clean up a bit before dinner.”

Jesse nodded wordlessly, a strange, giddy warmth pooling into his abdomen—a feeling he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. It was excitement. Jesse couldn’t remember the last time he’d genuinely been excited for something.

“Alright, to get to my place, you just walk up the main road for a while, until you see a fork in the road—take a right, and walk for a bit, then you’ll see my house. In case you wanna make sure it’s my place, the mailbox has a pink handprint on it, but I doubt you’ll get confused—it’s not a very crowded neighborhood, huh?”

Jesse thanked you again as you left, smiling at you—genuinely, this time.

Two packs of crushed crackers were gripped within one of his hands. It was all he had in his pantry, and he didn’t know what the etiquette was like around here, so he brought them just to be safe.

There was a lot of yellow to your house. He caught sight of the lemon tree in the corner of your living room, situated right against a window for optimum sunlight. You had a pale yellow carpet beneath the dining table, and sheer curtains hanging over the window of the same shade. You even had a little white cat, who had wound around Jesse’s legs with a mewl, staring up at him with large amber eyes.

You apologized profusely, bending down to pick her up. “Sorry, she’s not usually this friendly around strangers. This is Yuki—means snow in Japanese.”

A smile itched at the corner of his lips. “No worries. I’m cool with cats. I, uh, I like her name.”

Seemingly relieved, you put Yuki back down, and ushered him to the table. In the center was a clear vase, holding a variety of ochre and purple wildflowers.

“Hope you’re alright with spaghetti—I’m not that great of a cook, but I make a mean spaghetti,” you said, grinning as you disappeared into the kitchen to brandish a large bowl of pasta. His stomach growled at the smell of marinara sauce—he couldn’t remember the last time he had a decent bowl of warm, homemade food.

“No, yeah, that’s great,” he reassured. Silence stretched between the two of you as you began to ladle heapfuls of the noodles onto his plate, making sure to add a generous helping of meatballs with it. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. “I haven’t had the chance to thank you, so… thanks.”

You grinned at him kindly, before sitting right across from him. “It’s no problem, I promise. To be honest, it gets really lonely here sometimes. I’m glad you moved in.”

Jesse could only give you a small smile in return, before digging into his food. It was better than anything he’d had in months, though it wasn’t much of a competition. The past few weeks had been nothing but stale sandwiches and tough jerky that wore out his jaw.

“This is really good,” he said around a mouthful of pasta, forgetting his tableside manners for a moment. You didn’t seem to mind, only beaming all the brighter.

“I’m glad! Wish I could grow my own fresh tomatoes to make the sauce with but—it’s almost always freezing cold here,” you chuckled lightly. You twirled some pasta over your fork. “Which is why I grow lemon trees—they can withstand the cold pretty well.”

“How long have you been living here?” asked Jesse, finding himself genuinely curious about you.

You hummed in thought. “Four years ago, I think. I just needed some peace and quiet—and where better than Alaska, you know? I’m a writer, see, and I used to think that I had to live in a bustling city to make connections and meet more people in the industry to be successful but… I don’t know, I think a part of me always felt trapped in a corner. I feel free here.”

“Yeah,” replied Jesse, distant. “I get that. So, uh, you’re a writer, huh? What do you write?”

“Short stories, mostly. Sometimes I dabble in longer novels, and sometimes I’ll dip my toe into nonfiction. Depends on what my publishers want from me and also what I personally want to write,” you said, before taking a sip of water. Blanching, you quickly added, “Oh, I’m so sorry, you’re my guest and I haven’t even asked a single thing about you. What about you? What’re you doing up in the middle of nowhere, Alaska, Jared?”

The new name felt so foreign—so strange coming from you. He wondered how it’d sound if you said his real name. Jesse.

At your question, a myriad of memories flashed into the front of his thoughts once more. Mike, Walt, Jane, Badger, Skinny Pete, the meth, the drugs, his parents…

He pursed his lips.

Sensing he was a bit uncomfortable, he was surprised when you only nodded in gentle understanding, quietly saying, “It’s alright. You don’t have to tell me. We all have our reasons.”

The reassuring smile that quirked the corner of your lips upward made his heart just a little heavier. You were just so… nice. It was a bit baffling. An extremely stark comparison to his time kept prisoner by the group of Nazis.

“You got space for dessert?” you queried, tilting your head in the most adorable of ways, snapping him out of his reverie just when the atmosphere began returning back to its original light-hearted state. “I made lemon pie!”

It took him a little under a month to fully settle in. His house was still sparse and relatively empty, but he’d bought a nice new couch to lay back on and a frumpy little lamp he had gotten for free at an antique store. The old lady that worked there had pinched his cheeks and given it to him for free, despite the crumpled bills he was just about to hand over.

She told him that she reminded her of her grandson, and insisted on giving it to him for no charge. Acquiescing, Jesse took it home with him. Who was he to turn down something free, anyway?

He’d gotten himself a job as a carpenter, building together new little cabins not far from where he lived for adventuring tourists or more old couples that would inevitably migrate here in search of some peace and quiet. Most of his free time was spent dillying in his house, reading random books he’d borrow from the musty little library in the small town (he was pleasantly surprised to find a collection of your works on one shelf)—or he’d find himself at your house, playing Scrabble with you, or listening to you ramble about your day, or babysitting your cat when you had to go off to meet with your publisher.

It was safe to say that he’d grown rather fond of you.

And that scared him. Rightfully so—the last two times he’d genuinely cared about someone… he’d lost both of them.

But that was in the past now. Jesse was trying to move forward. With you by his side, hopefully.

One of the benefits of being a carpenter was that he had a nearly infinite supply of spare wood on his hands. He’d been meaning to make you a little thank you gift for how nice you’d been to him his first few weeks in Alaska. He certainly hadn’t been expecting any sort of hospitality whatsoever before he’d arrived.

And so Jesse built you a little birdhouse. It was relatively small and admittedly not his most skillful craft, but he thought it wasn’t too shabby. He’d even stopped by a hardware store to grab some paint, and added a thin coat of light yellow to the outside of the birdhouse. The roof was colored a sweet shade of pink—he’d meant to color it red, but the crimson had accidentally mixed into the white on his brush, and he decided that the pink would look better, anyways.

The day after, he was on your doorstep, ringing the bell with an excited flutter to his stomach, rocking back and forth on his heels.

You swung the door open, smiling upon seeing him. He interestingly noted that you were wearing large yellow overalls, hair tied away from your face. You looked so darned cute—it made him clam up for a second and forget what he’d come here for.

“Hey!” you greeted, stepping to the side so he could amble in. “It’s nice to see you, I was literally just about to call you to ask if you wanted to watch a movie tonight, or something—ooh, whatcha got there?” Your eyes widened as you looked at the little wooden house cradled in his palms.

“It’s for you,” said Jesse, holding it out. “It’s a, uhm, a birdhouse.”

Your expression melted into one of pure affection, and you grinned impossibly wider, before surging forward and throwing your arms around him in a quick hug. Before he could even begin to think about reciprocating the embrace, you were already pulling away, holding the birdhouse up to eye-level to observe it closer. “Oh, my God, Jared, this is gorgeous—I can’t thank you enough. Did you make it yourself?”

Chuckling nervously, Jesse nodded an affirmative, scratching the back of his neck in a sheepish manner. “It was nothing, really. Just had some scrap wood.”

“I love it,” you told him. The words made warmth coil about the bones of his ribs, spreading down to the tips of his fingers and crawling up the skin of his neck. “Nobody’s ever made me something like that before! You’re really too sweet, Jared. I’ll hang it outside in a bit.”

Carefully, you placed the little house on your table. A quiet meow roped both of your attentions lower, where Yuki was winding between both of your legs, tail curled around Jesse’s shins. He bent down to gently scratch beneath her chin, earning him a contented purr.

The three of you made your way to the couches, and you ushered Jesse to sit down, after you rushed to go pour him a steaming cup of coffee.

“It’s freezing out,” you told him, curling up beside the man and handing him the mug, before taking a sip from your own. Yuki made herself comfortable between the two of you, tucking her nose behind her tail and shutting her eyes for a nap. “Hopefully you can stay and defrost for a bit before heading back out?”

He hummed, appreciative of the idea. Being with you was… comforting, to say the least. It was peaceful, and quiet, and made his heart ache like nothing else. Dare he say—domestic. It reminded him of his short-cut time with Jane.

At the thought of her, thorns pierced through his lungs and he forced his gaze away from you. He caught sight of a small pile of papers on your coffee table, and he leaned forward to pick one up. You fiddled with the mug in your hands, nervous.

“Oh, wow, is this what you’ve been writing?” His eyes swept along the first few lines, finding himself utterly impressed. “Yo, this is, like, really damn good.”

“Really?” you asked, sitting up straighter, a hopeful look to your expression. “I’ve been in a weird word-vomit mood lately—ever since I met you, I just haven’t been able to stop.”

Jesse risked a glance to you, muffling a smile. “I may not know much about writing but this is… next level, dude. It’s like I can see it all in my head. Like a movie but with… words?”

“Gosh, Jared, you really know how to compliment someone,” you lightly scoffed, hiding your beam behind your mug. “You can keep that copy if you want. Here—” Shifting to brandish a pen from your pocket, you signed his name right under your printed one.

Jesse peered over to look, the smile cracking through his exterior.

For Jared Driscoll.

“You know what’s funny,” you murmured, eyes glued to his fake name on the paper. “You’ve never really pegged me as a Jared Driscoll.”

For a long moment, Jesse could’ve sworn his heart stopped in his chest. “Oh, yeah? Why, uh… why’s that?”

You shot him a glance, before smiling sweetly, handing him the papers back for him to keep. “I don’t really know—it just doesn’t suit you, I guess. Jared Driscoll sounds so—rough’n’tough, you know? You don’t strike me as the rough’n’tough kind of guy. You’re too sweet for that.” You shrugged, sinking further into the couch and running the tips of your fingers along Yuki’s back.

Jesse stared at you for a moment longer. Your words brought a certain kind of comfort to him that he never knew he needed. The affirmation that he was still a good person in your eyes—it meant more to him than he thought it would.

“Thanks,” he said, hesitant, though he gently quirked the corner of his lips into a mild grin. He sipped his warm coffee before adding on, “I think you’re sweet, too.”

“You never told me when your birthday was,” you told him, an accusing lilt to your words. Jesse’s brows rose. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, having just woken up no less than three minutes ago to the door ringing.

Wordlessly, he swung his door open wider so you had space to shuffle in, still glaring at him.

“It’s been a year since you moved in,” you carried on. There was a slight pouty pucker to your lips, face creased into a frown. Jesse thought you were too damned cute to take your annoyance too seriously. “And we haven’t celebrated your birthday once!”

“Bah, it’s not a big deal,” he finally said, yawning behind a fist and waving your words away.

Your little frown deepened. “Well, I’m sorry I missed it,” you softly said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “But I got you something anyway.”

From out of seemingly nowhere, you brandished a large brown paper bag, dangling it in front of him on the tips of your fingers. When he narrowed his blue eyes and suspiciously darted his gaze between you and the bag, you huffed out a small laugh, jerking your chin towards the gift. “Go on—open it!”

The bag crinkled loudly beneath his grip as he took it from you. With one last questioning look to you, he turned it over, and out fell a large yellow hoodie, cloud-soft in his palms. It looked like it was the exact right size for him, and he sent you an incredulous glance.

“This is sick, Y/N, thanks,” he said, a genuine beam itching at his mouth. “Perfect size—and it’s yellow, too!”

For a moment, you looked a bit unsure. “If you don’t like the color, I can always switch it out—it’s just, you’re always wearing neutrals, I thought it’d be nice to give you something colored.”

Jesse looked to the hoodie, then back at you.

Sure, yellow brought back bad memories. Far too many, and not nearly distant enough in his past.

But yellow was your color—and he rather liked how it looked on you.

“Nah,” he said, patting your shoulder once, then twice, “I like it, really. I like it a lot.”

Two years in Alaska meant nearly two years with you.

You’d become the one constant in his life—one that he wouldn’t mind being around for the rest of it, as well.

The two of you were sitting side by side on a frosty hill, watching the sun set. A breathtaking mirage of clementines and peaches bled through the sky just when the sun dipped slowly beneath the horizon. A faint, cold wind tousled your hair, rustling the blades of grass around you. It was meant to be a celebratory picnic of sorts, but the two of you decided it was too cold to eat out, and opted to just sit and relax for a bit before heading back inside and having dinner. Wordlessly, you handed him a pack of chips from the little basket you’d brought for the failed picnic, and he wrestled it open, popping one into his mouth. Simultaneously, you bit down on a crisp apple, wiping the spurting juices away with the back of your hand.

“I can’t believe it’s been two years,” said Jesse, mindlessly tracing shapes into the cold grass. “Time flies, huh?”

You hummed in agreement. “It does.”

Jesse turned to look at you, watching the side of your face relax along with the disappearance of the sun. The last few moments of golden sunlight bathed you in a gentle glow and drew the most beautiful of shadows across your features. You brushed some stray hairs out of your face, the sleeve of your oversized flaxen sweater swallowing your arm. He really couldn’t deny himself anymore—he was completely and utterly in love with you.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he said. He wanted to tell you the truth. Obviously not all of it—not all at once—but he wanted you to know. Jesse trusted you more than anyone else in his entire life. Maybe that made him an idiot, but… he was willing to risk the chance with you.

Curious, you tilted your head questioningly, laying your hands and face against your raised knees. The very edge of your shoulder brushed against his arm. You raised your eyebrows expectantly.

“You were right,” he finally said.

“Right about what?” You were starting to look mildly concerned.

Jesse inhaled deeply. “Jared Driscoll doesn’t suit me at all because… it’s not my real name.”

Surprise flooded your expression, but not too much of it—as if you’d always had an inkling all along.

“So what’s your real name?” you asked, all gentle, slightly afraid. Afraid that you’d lose him after so long—after getting attached.

“Jesse Pinkman,” he responded, tearing his gaze away from you, not sure if he wanted to see your reaction. “My middle name is Bruce.”

To his complete surprise, you let out a sudden laugh, before clamping your hands to your mouth. He snapped his head back to look at you, a contagious, incredulous grin touching the corner of his lips.

“Bruce like Batman?” you asked, slightly muffled behind your palms. He nodded, and you let out another chortling laugh. Relief wove through the very fibers of his muscles at your relaxed disposition. You smiled at him, all soft and glowing. It made Jesse’s stomach knot together uncomfortably. “I think it suits you. Much more than Jared Driscoll.”

You tested his name out, enunciating different syllables in various ways, your grin growing nearly double its size.

“Jesse Pinkman. Jesse Pinkman. Jesse Pinkman. Jesse Pinkman—”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jesse snorted, grabbing the apple in your hand and gently pushing it back into your mouth. With a halfhearted glare, you bit down into it anyway.

Around a mouthful of apple, you told him, “You have a pretty name.” You swallowed down the apple and quietly asked him, “Why are you using a fake one?”

Jesse hesitated, directing his gaze to the ground. His smile melted away. “Maybe that’s a story for another time.”

Bobbing your head in understanding, you smiled at him, still so very genuine it made his heart ache.

“Since we’re sharing secrets… well, mine isn’t exactly a secret, but I didn’t move to Alaska for the peace and quiet. I mean, I did, but that wasn’t really the reason why I left the city.” You cleared your throat, eyes getting slightly misty. “I lost my best friend in a car crash while she was on call with me seven years ago. A part of me will always think that it’s my fault that she died. So I moved to Alaska to get away from everything. From the city, and all those cars… and all the people. It was really hard being here at first. It was cold, and lonely, and sometimes just plain old boring. But honestly?” You tentatively reached over to place your palm over his. “Best decision I’ve ever made.”

The sun was long gone by now, and Jesse found himself missing how you looked in its soft yellow glow.

“Best decision both of us made,” he murmured, nodding. Jesse quite liked the feeling of your hand on top of his. “I came to Alaska because I, uh… I lost everyone. Everything.”

You smiled—all soft and devastating. He could feel a part of his heart crumbling into a heap of sand within his chest. Nimbly, he turned his palm over to intertwine your fingers with his cold ones.

“Well, you haven’t lost me, Jesse,” you told him, so quiet that it was nearly lost to the breeze.

Jesse wanted to cry at those words. He blinked away the stinging feeling at the top of his nose, and could only muster a grateful, teary nod.

“I, uhm, I’ve only been in love twice before in my life,” he whispered to you, swallowing the lump in his throat. “And both times, they died while I was right there—helpless. I’ve healed and I’m moving on, but, uh… I’m terrified of losing you the way I lost them, Y/N.”

Shifting, you turned so you could fully face him, now clasping both hands onto his right one. Firmly, you repeated yourself, “You haven’t lost me, Jesse. You won’t. Whatever hurt you back in New Mexico is long gone now. The past is far behind you. You have a fresh start. And I’ll be there with you—every step of the way.”

There wasn’t much yellow in Alaska, and for that he’d been grateful.

But maybe… maybe yellow wasn’t so bad.

After all, yellow was your color—and it looked beautiful on you.

#jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman fanfiction #jesse pinkman fluff #jesse pinkman angst #jesse pinkman imagines #jesse pinkman fanfic #jesse pinkman drabbles #jesse pinkman x you #breaking bad fanfiction #jesse pinkman oneshot #jesse pinkman imagine

402 notes · View notes

niki-phoria · 1 year

Text

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.”

“only from you,” you hum.

318 notes · View notes

castieltrash1 · 11 months

Note

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

| breaking (down) bad weekend

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

#jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman smut #breaking bad #breaking bad smut #jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman fanfic #jesse pinkman imagine #jesse pinkman drabble #breaking bad imagine #breaking bad drabble #answered #breaking (down) bad weekend #mutuals: f1nalboys #t: writing

92 notes · View notes

miloxo · 11 months

Text

Chemistry and Connection: A Jesse Pinkman x Reader Fanfiction | Pt. 1

You were struggling in your chemistry class and you caught the attention of Jesse Pinkman, a former student from the same school. Jesse was not known for being academically gifted. Despite this, he offered to tutor you in an effort to spend time with you.

As you worked on chemistry problems together, you couldn't help but notice how patient and kind Jesse was. You found yourself looking forward to your study sessions and the way Jesse explained complex concepts in a way that was easy to understand.

As the semester went on, you began to develop feelings for Jesse. You tried to ignore them, thinking that they were just a silly crush. But one day, while you were studying, Jesse looked up from his notebook and caught your eye. He smiled at you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. He leaned in and kissed you on the cheek.

"Thanks for a great study session, [Your Name]. I had a lot of fun today," Jesse said.

You blushed and smiled. "I had fun too, Jesse. You're an amazing tutor."

Jesse took your hand and looked into your eyes. "I know this might sound crazy, but I feel like we have a real connection. Would you like to go out with me sometime?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn't believe that Jesse was asking you out. You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement and happiness.

"I would love to go out with you, Jesse," you said. "When were you thinking?"

Jesse grinned. "How about this weekend? I'll think of something really special for us to do."

You nodded, feeling like the luckiest person in the world. You knew that you would always be grateful to Jesse for helping you with chemistry and for opening your heart to the possibility of love and a real connection.

Tagging Squad: @slayingyourmomrn @rockst4rrr

#jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman fanfic #jesse pinkman fanfiction #jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman fluff #aaron paul #breaking bad fanfic #breaking bad fanfiction #aaron paul fanfic #aaron paul fanfiction #breaking bad #brba

88 notes · View notes

berry-messy-scribbles · 1 year

Text

Lend me a helping hand

Pairing: Jesse Pinkman x GN!Reader

Summary: You and Jesse Pinkman attend the same class back in high school days. One day both of you become study buddies after Walt decides to pair you up to help him with chemistry. Little does he know that you two won’t pay much attention to textbooks, as a mutual crush begins to unfold.

Words: 3,131

Tags: SFW; gender-neutral reader; general fluff that turns a little angsty in the process but don’t worry it ends on a light note; reader and Jesse are younger due to this being set in his high school times.

Warnings/triggers: curse words; mentions of smoking cigarettes and drug use.

A/N: Reader’s implied favourite subject is chemistry so the plot can include Jesse’s trouble with White’s class and having him assign you as Jesse’s tutor.

“ This is my first piece ever writing Jesse so I apologise in advance if it seems out of character but we can all agree that our boy deserves more loving.” - Mod Berry

Ever since childhood, your eyes were set on an academic pursuit and it certainly didn’t change in your high school years. But the effort wasn’t just for any other subject than your beloved chemistry, which took up so much of your free time. Staying up all night to pass Mr White’s exams with flying colours wasn’t something you were unfamiliar with. All those sticky notes and underlines made with fancy markers in vivid colours present in your textbook were a plain sign, that you struck to be one of the smartest if not the smartest in class. One of your classmates specifically caught your eye – no other than the troublemaker by the name of Jesse Pinkman.

After all, you've been taking the same class for over a year now so you observed all sorts of shenanigans unravel. He’s mostly known as that one kid that always has some snarky comments ready and is an absolute menace to the teacher. At first, it would be making paper planes to throw at Mr White. Gradually it evolved to him drawing caricatures of the old bald man on the whiteboard with captions such as “Sit on an Erlenmeyer flask dick”. The doodle obviously showed in detail a figure of him sitting on the described object. It led to many visits to the principal’s office. Even after all this time you barely have spoken to each other, maybe besides the occasional “Can I borrow a pen” moments.

It seems as no surprise that when this certain student known for not caring about anything really, had you assigned as his study buddy. That is why one day after class Mr White decided to pair you up as study partners.

“Y/N you surely know of Pinkman. The one that barely makes any effort? I told myself if I can’t get through to him with my lectures that maybe someone his age would. I am sure that he could use a positive influence like you.”

He then murmurs to himself while looking outside the classroom “Maybe then he’ll make something out of himself.”

You never understood why he was so hard on Jesse, sure he wasn’t an easy student but immediately shutting him down as a hopeless case seemed too harsh for you. Either way, you decided to help him.

“Don’t worry sir. I am sure Jesse and I will get along just fine.”

But fine was the last word you would use to describe this situation, in fact, it was one of those times when you weren’t sure how to react. On one hand, you two barely spoken to each other. On the other hand, you were eager to chat about your favourite subject. But what other thing were you supposed to talk about really? Your only similarities ended in attending the same class and that fact certainly didn’t make it any easier. However the next day you gathered as much confidence as you could when you approached him after class.

‘‘Hi, Jesse. I don’t mean to bother you but -”

You are then interrupted midsentence by Jesse.

“Uh Hi Y/N right? Look I know what this buzzkill Mr White told you but you don’t need to do all that teaching me crap. ”

“Okay wait wait, don’t be silly now. It’s not a problem for me at all. In fact, I’m glad I can finally ramble to somebody about chemistry, haha and maybe just maybe I’ll be able to change your mind about it” you respond with a smile.

That smile certainly caught Jesse off guard by how pretty it looked on your face. He felt strange? Were you doing this out of pity for him or were you seriously this kind? He wasn’t sure but decided to continue the conversation playfully.

“Pff I’d like to see you try. Anyways Mx teacher when and where are we going to have our first study session?”

“Already with formal titles, I see. Hmm since it’s a nice day outside so would you like to have our first study session in the library? I promise I won’t make it as boring as it sounds.”

“Geez, I don’t know. Do you seriously see me as the kind of guy who regularly goes to libraries? You flatter me Y/N but I hate to break it to you the librarian is probably going to have a heart attack when she sees me.”

“Come on now I don’t think there is a “kind of person” - it is for everyone. Whether you want to admit it or not the library lady will see you just as another plain guy. Or are you scared of being called a nerd huh? you teased him.

“Whatever. So are we going or what?”

That’s how your weekly chemistry study sessions started out. In the beginning, it would be at Albuquerque’s public library, where you two spent time together. It is worth mentioning that the first time you were there the old librarian lady Judith made an embarrassing remark at the time:

“Y/N dearie it is so nice to see you again but who could that young man be? Oh are you two perhaps...”

“Study buddies. We’re study buddies! Yup, nothing more than that haha.” you quickly responded as you didn’t want to make Jesse feel uncomfortable. Hoping that he didn’t catch your face flush bright red for a moment there, you headed to the quiet area with a spare desk and quickly took out your books.

Those study sessions over time evolved into more casual hangouts such as going to a park, café and so on. Sometimes they would also include obligatory smoke breaks or buying sweet treats for later. There was this one time when you both went out to grab some doughnuts beforehand and Jesse had to get himself the popular pink glazed doughnuts, which resulted in one of your puns:

“Ah, so your last name obliges you to buy them? Huh, Pinkman? Get it?”

“All that time spent buried in the books and it is the only pun you could come up with? Shame on you Y/N shame. To think an egghead like you would get more creative.”

“Oh shut up we’ll see how creative you’re gonna be when we will be solving tasks from the textbooks and workbooks I have.”

Something you began to look forward to during your week was seeing Jesse. He seemed as if he could listen to you for hours and hours. That is why you began to feel comfortable around him - like you could finally be yourself around somebody else. It can be said that he was your best hypeman by saying things such as “Yeah Science bitch!” or “Right on!” even when you explained the most mundane of things. There was this one time when you let yourself go and started ranting about your hobbies such as writing and reading books ( or whatever you like to do in your free time, he’ll be so supportive anyways ) so when you finally realised you were getting distracted you quickly added the following:

“Oh sorry I’m just used to people not caring about my special interests or straight up finding it annoying.”

“Are you kidding? Fuck them. I’d like to get to know you more, other than the fact that you are a huge nerd. Also, I think you’d make a great teacher or something because hey you’ve managed to make me pay attention."

That response definitely warmed up your heart.

On the surface, both of you seemed like total solar opposites but maybe that’s why you two connected so well. As you often put it in your mind “positively charged objects attract negatively charged objects”. Jesse would probably groan at the thought that you had to compare your friendship to some nerdy topic. During that time, you noticed that there was so much more to Jesse than people thought. For instance, his notebook had pages that were entirely covered in drawings of figures done in a comic book art style, some of which were superheroes while the others were villains. Initially, Jesse was nervous that you found them but then all that doubt disappeared when he was smothered in positive feedback from you. You eagerly asked about their names, superpowers and origin stories and then proceeded to listen to his explanations with joy in your eyes. That alone made Jesse feel so weak around you - you were actually interested in spending time with him and in what he wanted to say ( and by god we all know how much he needs that in his life ).

Up to this point, you didn’t realise that you started to develop feelings towards Jesse, but when he didn’t show up at your usual meeting spot you immediately started to worry. It’s not as if Jesse wouldn’t let you know if something bad happened, because he had felt sick before. The significant difference is that he always called or texted when he couldn’t make it. This time however it was total silence. At first, you tried calling him, then you moved on to texting multiple messages saying “Are you alright? Did something happen?” followed by “I hope everything is okay Jesse text me whenever you can”. You weren’t sure if you were overreacting a bit, but you didn’t care – the most important thing was his well-being. Time passed and it has been a week since your last message and there was no sign of him at school either. Now you were certain that something felt off… Maybe that’s why you decided to take matters into your own hands when you visited the Pinkmans’ residence. You were more than thankful, that you remembered where it was located since Jesse never really invited you over. The only time when you two were near his house he’d quickly brush it off as if he didn’t want to attract your attention to it. When you arrived and knocked on the door a short blonde woman opened. She was clearly confused by your presence.

“Can I help you with something? I don’t believe we have met before?”

"Oh hi, you must be Jesse’s mother. My name is Y/N nice to meet you, I am Jesse’s friend.”

It was strange to call him that since you weren’t sure if Jesse considered you his friend, but you certainly considered him to be yours. A small shocked expression appeared on her face, however before she could say anything you continued:

You didn’t quite understand her passive-aggressive response. At the same time, she was glad that you thought about her son but also said something about being an “unusual” friend of his. What did she mean by that? Was she trying to insult you or her own son? You thought that to yourself but decided to shrug it off as there were more important things right now.

“Listen Mrs Pinkman I am so sorry to bother you but Jesse hasn’t been responding to my messages for the past week and he also wasn’t at school so I wanted to make sure that he’s okay.”

“Hmm I have to say you don’t seem like Jesse’s usual kind of “friend”, but it’s nice that you worried about him. Pleasure to meet you too.”

“Listen Jesse has been lately um I am not sure how to put it...”

The older woman seemed at loss for words. To your surprise at that moment a taller older man came up behind Mrs Pinkman, which you suspected probably was Jesse’s father.

“Is there a problem here dear?” and then Mrs Pinkman had to assure him there was none but also had to explain why you were here in the first place.

“Oh, you are here for Jesse huh? Well then colour me surprised, to say the least. About our son - you’ll understand what my wife wanted to tell you in a moment. How about I show you his room, then you can go ask him yourself.”

The tension in that conversation caught you off-guard. For some reason, both of them seemed angry inside but they covered it in their nice suburban behaviour. Before you could even properly react to that exchange of words they both walked into their house, gesturing you to follow them.

They stopped at the door, which you could only assume belonged to Jesse’s room. His father then proceeded to knock on the door while saying “Jesse you have a visitor.” and then both left you alone in awkward silence while standing outside his room.

A couple of minutes passed and then you heard a loud thud and steps of someone approaching the door. Then the door swung right open followed by:

“Uh. I didn’t want you to see me like this Y/N.” Jesse sighed.

The room looked as if a tornado came through - all his belongings scattered on the bedroom floor. From his usual baggy clothes, beanies and a used bong to boxes of frozen pizza with few slices left untouched. The air in the room was heavy and the atmosphere was even heavier when you noticed Jesse nervously looking at you in the doorframe.

You have never seen Jesse in that state before. His usual entrancing blue eyes were all red. Not only that but it appeared that even weighty eyebags began to show on his face. Jesse anxiously held his arm around you. He was so afraid that sooner or later you would witness him like this. He expected the worst to come from your mouth and was preparing himself for the harsh reality of that situation to unfold, but then he heard a quiet sob coming from you.

“I was so worried that something bad happened to you. I am so glad that you are okay you asshole!” you immediately hugged Jesse.

“But um Jesse what happened? Is there something that worried you so much, which lead to this state?” you gestured at the room and him.

Jesse was knocked-out at that moment. Out of all the reactions he suspected he would get from you a warm embrace wasn’t on that list.

“Next time check your goddamn phone you hear me? A simple “I am alive” would be great you know?” you quickly added as you let go of that hug.

“I don’t want to come off as nosy or anything but just so you know you can always talk to me. I’ll make sure to be of help to you.” you added.

Jesse was absolutely stunned at that moment. Nobody ever cared about him that much and you didn’t even judge him? You didn’t think of him less after witnessing him at his worst? After all of that, you still wanted to know what was wrong? What exactly was happening? He finally responded:

“Heh I don’t know what to say Y/N. Look for the past few days I haven’t been feeling very well. You probably met my parents - we don’t exactly get along.” before he could finish that sentence he made sure to close the door so they wouldn’t hear what he says.

“So about a week ago they found my secret stash and went fucking crazy. It wasn’t only about that oh no no no. Mrs and Mr Perfect had to bring up my shitty grades and how I will never amount to anything. Parents of the year huh? After that, the only thing I knew would make me feel good is smoke some weed and spend time alone. My buddies suggested meeting up but I wasn't feeling like it. I just felt like a burden to everyone I have ever met."

"God and the fact that this dickhead White told my parents I was a lost cause was just a cherry on top of that shitshow." he added with frustration building inside him.

Seeing Jesse in that vulnerable position made you even more motivated to comfort him. You carefully started:

"First of all you are certainly not a burden, how could you even think that for a moment? Look even if your parents are acting like assholes towards you they don't define your worth. "

"I am so sorry that your parents and White told you those awful words but if you asked me I think you are pretty great. Sure you aren't the best at certain things but you are getting better each and every single day. If it makes any real difference to you I'm rooting for you, Jesse."

"And hey just a friendly suggestion when you do succeed you can rub it in their face you know? That certainly is something to look forward to right?"

That made Jesse chuckle a bit.

"Thanks, Y/N. I am very glad that you came here."

"No problem at all. Say do you need any help with cleaning your room? And before you say you don't want to make me do your chores I don't mind and also I insist."

Even if he said no you would help him so after that you and Jesse got up to start cleaning his room and of course had some more heart-to-heart conversations while doing so. It brought you two closer than ever and you both realized that your feelings were more than friendship.

Since that day some time passed and your first study sessions came faster than expected. Jesse was so happy that he could finally spend more time with you and so were you. You took your usual path to the library and sat in an empty desk. This time you decided to start with organic chemistry, in particular, a topic revolving around saccharides. Before you could explain anything Jesse asked you:

"So today we are doing what? Saccharides? What a mouthful. Why do eggheads always come up with the most idiotic names instead of calling it oh I don't know... something anyone can say outloud?"

"Pff you can always just call them sugars you know. It is still a correct nomenclature so feel free to use that one."

"Yeah but I would rather call you sugar." he responded without a second thought.

"Wait what did you say?" you felt blood rush to your face.

Silence fell between you two. Expression or sheer shock on both of your faces. Jesse couldn't believe he said that out loud. The silence was then broken by him coughing and finally adding:

"Y/N I didn't mean to make any of this awkward I just... I just think that you are sweet."

"Well if that makes any difference I think you are cute too Pinkman." you responded and softly placed a kiss on his lips.

Truth be told that day you didn't do any of the material you had planned in advance. The only chemistry that was on your mind was between you and Jesse.

#breaking bad x reader #jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman fanfiction #jesse pinkman fanfic #breaking bad fanfiction #breaking bad fanfic

356 notes · View notes

mlmxreader · 1 year

Text

A Shot In the Dark | Jesse Pinkman x m!reader

anonymous asked: sorry for the vague request!! ive been reading ur fics but honestly my eyes completely skipped over the thing where you said specific requests only. jesse pinkman x m!reader where the reader gets shot during a drug deal where they’re selling meth. he tries to call saul but remembers sauls busy, so he calls jesse. jesse stops basically everything to get to him (him and walt are in the middle of cooking). maybe walt comes too because reader is an important aspect in their business. by the time they get there readers already bled out a lot & they have to care for them without calling paramedics / bringing them to a hospital. just jesse freaking out while walt tries to figure out the logistics of it/ best way to nurse him back to health. hope this is ok!

summary: shit goes wrong really quickly, and in your hour of desperation and need, there's only one person who you can safely turn to.

tws: gun violence, swearing, injury and blood mentions, drug mentions

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

It all happened so fast. A couple of short exchanges, a few nods and shaking hands. Next minute you were on the floor, desperately trying to call your lawyer; he didn't answer, and when you looked at the time, you cursed it. He was with another client. He wouldn't have time. You just hoped that your next call wouldn't be ignored.

You really hoped that it wouldn't be ignored. You prayed and prayed and prayed that it wouldn't.

Jesse stepped outside the second his phone rang; he picked up when he realised it was his boyfriend, biting at his lip as he listened to you talk. Murmuring, coughing. Then the words hit him, and he nearly dropped the phone as his stare went blank and his breath got caught in his throat; he felt sick, couldn't think properly.

He could only just about remember begging Walt to go and see you, to call the hospital and the paramedics, but he was told that that wasn't possible; he was told that, if they were to get involved, then you would surely be arrested. Jesse couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't.

His hands shook, and when Walt took over, everything sounded muffled and distorted.

"He's an asset," Walt was growling, "we'd lose too much money without him."

Such comments usually made Jesse argue, made him bite the hand that feeds, made him snap and scream at the top of his lungs about how you were a man, you were the love of his life, you were everything. But he just sat there. Frozen and a thousand miles away judging by the stare in his blue eyes.

He didn't even think when Walt drove to the scene, didn't even hesitate as he got out of the car and dropped to his knees next to you; his hands on your bloodied face.

Jesse knew he should have never have asked you to join the business; he should have never let you go and sling meth on your own, he should have been there, he should have stayed with you. He should have been with you every single moment that he could've. He shouldn't have left you to do it on your own. Your blood was on his hands.

But you were still breathing, even able to wince and growl as Walt checked your wounds; they were weren't fatal, but you had lost a fair bit of blood nonetheless. He did his best for you, knowing that he would lose money if you died; even worse, if you had an infection, it could take you out of the business for at least a month or two. Especially if you needed surgery or medications, you would be out of work for too long for Walt to stomach; all that money down the drain.

Jesse couldn't believe it; he was panicked, he was anxious, he wasn't sure if his blurry vision was from his own tears or from blood being coughed into his face. His heart was pounding, he was shaking and his voice was weak as he did his best to keep you awake and talking to him; he wasn't even listening to what you were saying.

He just wanted to be sure you were alive.

Walt sat back when he had done all he could, trying to work out how long you would be out of business for and trying to figure out how much he was going to lose; he didn't even care about the fact that Jesse had helped you to sit up, and that he had wrapped his baggy zip up hoodie over your shoulders.

"You okay?"

You shook your head. "The fucker shot me."

"I know," Jesse nodded. "It was my fault, I shouldn't have let you do this alone."

You shook your head again, slumping into him when he sat beside you, weakly throwing your arm over his waist as you sniffled. "This wasn't your fault. I should've been prepared that some cunt was gonna do this eventually."

"Don't say that," Jesse said weakly, sniffling. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," you hissed, pain shooting through your wounds as you closed your eyes tightly and leaned your head back. "Fuck, it hurts."

"Hold my hand," he told you, and when you weakly gripped his hand, he didn't miss the soft squelch. Your blood smearing on his sweaty palms even more. "I love you, bitch, you're gonna be fine."

You grinned for a split second. "Don't call me bitch."

"I'm gonna look after you," he murmured. "Promise."

You nodded. You didn't even think about talking to Walt, who was trying to call someone; he didn't care about you, he didn't see you as a fucking human being, just a business asset. Another disposable worker who he could throw aside the second you stopped being able to make him more money for his own greed and selfishness.

If you were honest, even though you had only met her a handful of times, you could see why Skyler was always so on edge; you didn't understand why she didn't just divorce him already. She deserved so much better than that selfish, greedy, cunt.

But Jesse... he loved you. Of course he did.

You were the boyfriend that had stuck with him through everything; you had been with him since you were only fifteen, and you weren't about to go anywhere. He wasn't, either, all those years had meant everything to him, and you were his whole world. He wanted to be with you for as long as you would let him stay by your side, and he knew that he was fine as long as he could see you smiling and hear you laughing at something he said.

With everything that he had, Jesse loved you.

So, of course, when he promised that he would look after you, you believed him - until Walt got off of the phone.

"Jesse. You're not to take him home."

Jesse glared at his former teacher, shaking his head. "No."

"You can't," Walt hissed. "We have to cook. Or do you want us to fail?"

"I'm not leaving him, yo," he scoffed. "He's my boyfriend, I'm not leaving him."

"Jesse-"

"Mister White," Jesse sighed. "All due respect and everything, but he is my boyfriend, and I am going to look after him, bitch."

Walt rolled his eyes. "Fine. Then I'll find a new partner to cook with."

"Fine!" Jesse huffed.

"Get yourselves home," Walt spat, making his way back to the car.

"You didn't have to do that," you grumbled. But Jesse shook his head.

"Yeah, I did," he admitted. "Mister White... he'll see he can't cook without the Cap'n... but, we need to get you home."

"Go on my phone," you told him weakly. "There's a number, under Beverley Hills... call her, she's a friend of mine."

"A nurse?" He asked as he grabbed your phone.

You nodded. "How'd you guess?"

"You didn't mention until Mister White left," he shrugged. "She gonna help?"

You nodded again. "She gets off the clock at five..."

"I'll call Skinny Pete and Badger," he hummed as he rang the number you told him to. "They can pick us up."

"Jesse-"

"It's okay."

"No," you coughed, wet and sickly and making you gag. "Just... I love you."

#mlem writes #jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman one shot #jesse pinkman imagine #jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman x you #jesse pinkman fanfic #breaking bad x reader #breaking bad imagine #breaking bad fanfiction #breaking bad #aaron paul imagine #aaron paul

60 notes · View notes

georgialeeches · 3 months

Text

A Daryl Dixon Jessie Pinkman ficlet

Less than 200 words (mentions drug selling)

When Merle was in jail- again. nobody told the lil tweaker he bought from on occasion.

*up late home alone Daryl hears someone knocking and opens the door abruptly*

“Who’re you?”

Daryl came off aggressive, maybe overcompensating since being solo wasn’t common for him

“Cap’n”

“What?”

“Cap’n cook man .. is the ‘hilly’ guy around”

“….. Naw”

“Well he promised me like half a grand for this yo”

*Jesse pulls a ziploc bag of crystal out of his oversized jeans making Daryl remember his brother had ‘sum to do this week’*

Daryl sighed “alright, hold up”

*He walked back inside over to a raggedy couch he threw his wallet on earlier and pulls out all the money he had, going back and giving it to the janky looking kid*

“Hell yeah! ay tell that guy there’s no chilli in this batch too. He kept bitchin’ about that”

“I aint able to tell him nothin now that his bail moneys gone” daryl says almost smugly

*he nods at the cash in Jesse’s hand while waving up the product in his own hand and closes the door*

“See ya cap’n crunch” *slam*

Jesse yells distantly through the door “It’s COOK.. BITCH”

#daryl dixon #jesse pinkman #the walking dead #breaking bad #merle dixon #twd fanfic #breaking bad fanfic #daryl dixon fanfic #jesse pinkman fanfic

8 notes · View notes

anelimjolie · 1 year

Text

The Last Frontier

He wasn’t completely sure. He thought it couldn’t be true. But when the boy's gaze lingered on him and his dark brown eyes glittered like ambers in the sun, and he let out his next words with a hitched breath, Jesse’s blood froze and he knew.

“Jesse?”

“Brock?”

_____  After 10 years in Alaska, Jesse reunites with someone from his past.

#breaking bad #jesse pinkman #brock cantillo #Jesse and brock #breaking bad fanfiction #brba #jesse pinkman fanfic #aaron paul #brba fic #brba ao3

12 notes · View notes

sunkendreams · 7 months

Text

SIDELINES.

you haven’t seen jesse pinkman since high school — and he’s the last person you ever expected to connect with. however, times have changed — and so have you.

part 1. | part 2. | part 3. | part 4. | part 5.

༄ PAIRING. | jesse pinkman x [female] reader.

༄ FORMAT. | one-shot, multi-part — not requested.

༄ WORD COUNT. | 9.6K.

༄ WARNINGS. | drug use, references to substance use/addiction, past jane/jesse, emotional trauma/hurt, jesse’s internalized hatred/guilt, acquaintances to lovers, smoking, smut, smut with plot, making out, dirty talk, breast play, cunnilingus, hair pulling, bottom!jesse, riding, morning sex, aftercare.

༄ AUTHOR’S NOTE. | I don’t know where I’m getting these ideas, but I have a lot of projects in the works right now. Some are horror-related and some aren’t. Honestly, I’m just happy to be writing again no matter what the content is. Thank you guys for your continued support & love. I couldn’t do it without you all! Peace! ☺️

The scent of marijuana, pungent smoke, and a toxic amalgamation of sweat and AXE body spray wafted throughout the house, music jacked up so loud that it made your ears ring. You remained at your perch, stuffed along the wall of a stranger’s house while your friends got stoned in another room.

You were dragged to this party out of sheer loyalty to your friends and a boredom that outweighed anything else. Regret rippled through you, nose stinging from the foul smells that hung like a noxious haze in the living room. The drink you clutched within one hand was watered-down, tiny slivers of ice swirling around within the cup.

Some mediocre hip-hop song blasted throughout the house, bass loud enough to shake the very foundation — you were thoroughly surprised that the police hadn’t been called in for a noise complaint.

Grey wisps of smoke drifted in your direction, and you swatted at it with a wrinkled nose. It wasn’t your typical scene — the sort of party, at least. Partying was something you were accustomed to — harmless college parties with drinks and weed, but this was something else.

There were people snorting lines of cocaine off of a glass coffee table, and you swore that one person had passed out entirely in the kitchen. A strange sensation crawled across your flesh — a feeling that you weren’t exactly meant to be here. Your friends had driven you down here, but you were prepared to take your chances with walking home.

“Wanna hit?” A man asked you, gsze half-lidded, lips curled into a less than attractive smile. He propositioned you with a jerk of his head, motioning toward the thin line of fine, white powder sitting along the coffee table.

“No thanks.” You waved one hand in dismiss, weaving through the crowds to retrieve another drink. The kitchen was destroyed, ravaged by strangers with little respect for the home. Debris, trash, and the remnants of marijuana were everywhere. You nearly stepped on broken glass.

It felt like an out-of-body experience — as if you were simply a spectator, an observer who watched the chaos around you. You didn’t thrive or revel within it — you were indifferent. The vices of your friends differed greatly from your own, to quite an extreme degree.

As you watched the swarm of people, all huddled together within the living room, the air became stifling and stuffy, as if it threatened to suffocate you altogether. They reminded you of zombies — barely moving in one place, all drugged-out from whatever concoction of pills and illicit substances were available at this party.

You silently slipped outside, abandoning your drink somewhere on the windowsill as you stepped out into the cool night breeze. You inhaled, greedily drinking in the crisp freshness of dusk, hands roaming over your thin cardigan as you began to shuffle to the edge of the porch.

Moonlight pooled through the wispy clouds as they fluttered through the night — everything was so much quieter outside. The thumping of the bass had diminished, and the skunk-like scent had dissipated altogether.

The door opened behind you, a figure slinking out onto the porch a few feet away from you. “Hey.”

It was somewhat unfamiliar until you’d actually glanced over your shoulder, gaze landing upon a most familiar face — Jesse Pinkman. The two of you made eye contact; Jesse’s face blossomed with a subtle realization.

“Holy shit,” You let out a bark of a laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Jesse Pinkman, right? You went to J.P Wynne.” You hadn’t seen Jesse Pinkman since high school graduation — you distinctly remembered his social circle.

Jesse recognized you sometime during the midst of the party — a true wallflower, despite your popularity in junior high. It surprised him to see a girl like you at one of his drug-laden festivities, but then again, life was full of surprises. He looked tired, skin pale and eyes baggy as he leaned against one of the columns.

“Yeah,” Perusing his pockets, he fished out a cigarette, placing it between his lips. “You were one of the Honor Society members, right?” Jesse recalled your stellar academics and social standing — his polar opposite.

You made a face, keeping your arms folded across your abdomen. “Yeah.” Admittedly, Jesse wasn’t exactly someone you were friends with in high school. Cordial was a good word for it — your parents never would have allowed you to hang out with someone like him, anyway. “We were in Mr. White’s chemistry classes together.”

Upon mentioning Walter White, Jesse stiffened slightly, feigning innocence as he cracked a thin-lipped smile. “Jesus,” He exhaled, reaching for his lighter. “It’s been awhile.”

There was a prevalent exhaustion that hung within his eyes, a loneliness that almost felt tangible within that moment. He avoided eye contact with you at-times, hands fidgeting when you stepped closer.

“It has.” You paused, rubbing your palms across your arms. Despite the acrid heat that New Mexico produced during the day, the temperatures dropped drastically at night. You shivered, a delicate smile creeping across your features. “Did the party get a little boring for you, too?”

He’d forgotten about you a little bit — forgotten about just how beautiful you were. You’d only gotten prettier, too. Jesse felt the sting of sheepishness and inferiority that came with being around someone like you — a good person, someone with responsibilities and respectable morals. You weren’t a criminal — you hadn’t killed somebody.

Jesse almost felt as if he shouldn’t be speaking to you, but he pressed on. “I guess. Needed some air, you know?” He noticed your constant shivering, prompting him to remove the baggy, black jacket he wore. “You cold?” He asked, gesturing toward the garment he carried.

“Oh,” Warmth crept along your flesh, brows knitting together as you shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Jesse.” It was a thoughtful gesture, something you didn’t expect, but you were freezing and the dress wasn’t doing you any favors.

“Nah, go ahead. Might smell like cigarettes, though.” Jesse forewarned, tucking one hand underneath his arm. The long-sleeved Henley he wore was more than enough for him.

You thanked him, slipping into his hooded zip-up. He wasn’t exactly incorrect — it did smell of cigarette smoke intermingled with the cologne he wore. You didn’t mind, though.

Silence drifted between the two of you, awkward enough to make you uncomfortable as you fished around for your cellphone. Minutes ticked by without a word. Jesse appeared to be a little nervous, and you wondered if it had anything to do with you.

There was a string of texts from your friends inquiring about your whereabouts. It was a little after ten o’clock, and you fully intended on walking home. “It was nice seeing you, Jesse. I hope you’re doing well.” You cleared your throat. “I’m going to head home.”

Jesse opened his mouth to speak, lips fumbling around the unlit cigarette. Surely, you didn’t want to talk to him — Christ, he was practically a stranger. It felt cruel of him not to offer to give you a ride home, or something like that.

“Hey, uh,” Jesse cleared his throat, clamoring after you. “I can give you a ride home. Could be stalkers or crazy people around.” His reasoning was weak, but it seemed to resonate with you, oddly enough. He felt strange — he barely knew you outside of what he perceived in high school.

You knew that Jesse had gotten in trouble with the law in school — everyone knew. Gossip was prevalent at J.P Wynne. Part of you screamed to refuse, to politely decline and endure the lengthy trek home, but a sliver of you wanted to accept, to indulge in your curiosity.

Jesse had always been kind to you in the very rare, occasional interaction you’d had with him. He hadn’t given you any reason not to trust him. It was a nice change of company — refreshing, almost. There was a clean slate between the two of you.

Your shoulders slouched and sluggishly lifted in a weak shrug as you rubbed your hands together. “You don’t mind? It’s on Nauman Drive, past downtown.” A decent drive, for sure — a half an hour or more. You expected him to reject you given the distance.

“Nauman?” It was a nice area, he knew that much. “Yeah, I don’t mind. You care if I smoke?” Jesse inquired, gesturing around toward the garage. He didn’t care about the house — it almost seemed to fade away into the background. He needed a break, time to think.

“Go ahead.” You trailed after Jesse, following him toward the paved stretch of driveway. A 1984 Toyota Tercel sat, red paint beginning to fade and show signs of weathering. It was beat-up, but certainly held a bit of rugged appeal.

Jesse awkwardly shuffled to open the passenger door, and you thanked him, sinking down into the felt seats. The car smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap air fresheners, but it was tidy and clean inside. You placed your purse down onto the floorboard in front of you.

Blowing a pillar of smoke into the air, Jesse hastily finished his cigarette, fingers beginning to quiver as he opened the driver’s side. He hadn’t really spent time with a girl since Jane — but you didn’t remind him of her whatsoever. There were many qualities you possessed that certainly contrasted from her, not that it was a bad thing.

“Do you live here?” You asked, head canting to one side. There were other cars scattered around the block and parked on the street, but his happened to be the only vehicle in the driveway.

“Uh,” Jesse glanced at you, absentmindedly wetting his lower lip. “Yeah, I do.” He turned the key forward, car rumbling and puffing to life. “Bought the house months ago — used to be my Aunt’s.” He clarified, wondering if you would ask about the obscene amount of drugs.

“You don’t think it’ll burn down while you’re gone?” You questioned, lips twitching into a thin smile as you rolled down the passenger window, letting your elbow rest up against the ledge.

Jesse let out a huff of laughter, and shrugged his shoulders. He began to back up, rolling out onto the empty roads. “It’s been through worse shit.” His wry statement only made your smile flicker again, but he vehemently focused on driving instead.

You felt the barrier melt a bit at that — it was comforting to know that the two of you didn’t have to behave like complete strangers. Silence simmered again, settling between the both of you as he concentrated on finding something on the radio. It served as suitable background noise.

“What are you doing nowadays?” You avoided the topic of the party — it wasn’t worth mentioning. A cool breeze whipped through the car as he began to drive, causing goosebumps to prickle along your shoulders.

“I don’t know,” Jesse confessed, cerulean hues flickering in your direction. “Drifting, I guess.” It was the first time where he’d revealed a sliver of his true feelings. The parties were a worthwhile distraction — soulless events where he could find solace in all of the chaos surrounding him. “Shit, it’s a long story.” His laughter was shaky.

“You don’t have to do a full confession, Jesse.” You reassured, playfully prodding at your cardigan. “I’m not wearing a wire.” With a gentle exhale, your tone softened as he pulled out onto the highway. It was almost soothing — driving back home with somebody you never expected to see again.

Jesse laughed at that, running a hand across his disheveled hair, and then planting it against the back of his neck. The support groups he’d been attending didn’t work — there was no comfort he’d been able to find.

Everything felt like some massive distraction from the root of the problem — the residual pain he was dealing with from Jane, from Gale. His heart hammered within his chest, and he looked at you again. Oddly enough, your nonchalant behavior and lack of judgment would’ve been enough for him to spill in a different setting.

“Hey, what about you? What are you doing these days?” Jesse immediately shifted the focus away from him. He was far more interested in what you had to say than his own life. Besides, it would pull him out of his own head for a little while.

The inquiry was unexpected but not unwelcome, causing you to adjust yourself within the passenger seat. “Oh,” You cleared your throat. “I’m in college at the University of New Mexico. I’m still trying to figure out what I’d like to study — getting basics out of the way. I work at a cafe.”

Normal, uneventful, peaceful — Jesse envied you.

You were achieving something mundane yet safe, something that he wished he would’ve done long ago. Maybe things wouldn’t have happened in the way that they did. His countenance became a touch forlorn, but it wasn’t the time to become mournful over the past. He couldn’t go back, not anymore.

“Yeah, that’s …” He nodded, attempting to conjure the right words to say. “That’s good, really good. You know you could do anything you wanted. You were always really smart and shit.” Jesse replied, gaze hyperfocused upon the road as headlights raced past.

You could detect that Jesse was holding something back — that minuscule flicker of pain had crossed over his visage before being forced to dissipate. Your eyebrows furrowed together, and you reached over, gently prodding at his shoulder.

“Hey,” You began, tone laced with concern. “Are you okay?”

Jesse felt his heart constrict within his chest, wisps of air stolen from his lungs. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked that — and genuinely meant it. It wasn’t out of obligation, that was easy to tell. He felt his throat grow thick, but he staved off any tears.

“Yeah.” It was a blatant lie, spoken through a clenched jaw. He nearly winced when you touched his shoulder, feeling as if he were souring the mood entirely. “Just, uh … You know, going to therapy and rehab right now. It’s been tough.” A very threadbare half-truth, but it was enough to placate you.

“Oh.” A warmth crept into your voice as you withdrew, countenance softening as you sank back into the passenger seat. “That’s understandable, Jesse. I’m sorry.” You replied, tucking strands of hair behind your ear as you looked out the window again.

Albuquerque was a sprawling city, and as the two of you neared the nicer end, Jesse knew that Nauman was only ten minutes away. He didn’t want to go back to the party anymore — but it might’ve been the best option. If he stayed with you, he knew the pain it would cause. He feared losing people — it was present all the time, a nagging dread that never stopped.

“Don’t be sorry,” Jesse interjected, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. “Did that shit to myself, you know?” Addiction was behind him. He rarely participated anymore — he was just a silent observer, fueling everyone else’s vices while he withered away. What kind of a life was that?

You canted your head to one side, lips parting slightly as you spoke. “Jesse, that’s not entirely your fault. You can’t blame yourself for your environment or circumstances out of your control.” You were right — but he made the choice to shoot Gale, and he made the choice to shoot up with Jane before she died.

He was silent, feeling the sensation of tears swimming within his gaze. Jesse didn’t want to even remotely consider crying in front of you — he barely knew you. Instead, he focused on the road, taking the exit towards Albuquerque Studios. Nauman wasn’t very far away.

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d had a conversation with someone else that was this raw and vulnerable. Jesse’s discomfort was palpable and very real to you, and you felt horrible. Your countenance glistened with concern, brows furrowing together.

After the exit, Jesse drove onto Nauman Drive. There were rows of beautiful, lavish houses and apartment complexes, ones that he probably could’ve bought with the dealing money. He was blowing it all away right now on drugs for the parties — he was beginning to ask himself ‘why?’

“My apartment is at the end of the drive.” Your voice had softened, hands planted within your lap as he followed your directions. It was a smaller apartment complex but much nicer, your driveway occupied by your vehicle.

Jesse pulled up along the curb — it was eerily silent, aside from the cacophony of crickets that provided a steady ambience, and the occasional bark of a dog. He put the car in park, still gripping the steering wheel. “You got a nice place.” He murmured, a halfhearted attempt to shift the conversation to something else.

“Hey,” After unbuckling your seatbelt, you leaned over the center console, palm resting over his hand, the one that was strangling the wheel of the car. “Why don’t you come inside? I can make you coffee or something and you can just space out for a little while. We don’t even have to talk.”

The offer was generous — admittedly, Jesse wondered if it would benefit him in any way. If he could just lay on your couch, decompress, let the emotion off of his chest. He didn’t care about the state of the house — he didn’t care about anybody at that party. What he did care about, however, was you, and how you made him feel.

It was as if the invisibility he’d been safely floating in for so long was shattered, but there was someone who could actually see him — see the veil he’d been maintaining for this whole time. His gaze finally flickered toward you, who appeared genuinely concerned for him.

You were good — truly good.

There wasn’t an ounce of maliciousness or an underlying agenda. You didn’t smoke, you hadn’t touched drugs, you were in college with a steady, normal job that never got you involved with the wrong people. Jesse knew what he’d be putting you through if he let this drag out for too long. If he fucked up, people could hurt you.

“Listen,” Jesse swallowed, palm planted against the back of his neck. “You’re really sweet, okay? You’re nice,” He wanted to word it in a way that wouldn’t hurt your feelings. “I just — I can’t. I’m not in a good spot right now. I don’t wanna drag you down with me.” That sounded fair, didn’t it?

You could accept that.

If it had something to do with the drugs, which you assumed that it was, then you understood that he was trying to protect you. You wanted to encourage him to try, but the last thing you wanted to do was pressure someone in a fragile state.

“Okay, Jesse.” You hesitated, pressing your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “I just want you to know that you're not alone. If you need someone, I’m here for you. I know that there was a wedge in high school, but I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t reconnect.” You shrugged, popping open the passenger side door.

As you stepped outside, you made sure to remove his jacket, draping it over the center console as you shut the door. Jesse didn’t say anything as you rounded the car — he was biting his finger, eyes squeezing shut as you made the short trek toward your front door. It felt like an eternity until you’d actually gotten inside.

Jesse exhaled, hands trembling as he hastily wiped away straggling tears that he’d been withholding during the span of the whole drive. Part of him knew that he could use a positive influence like you in his life, but the danger that lurked around him, the cloud of loss, he was afraid that you’d become lost in all of that, too.

The deliberation between going back to his house and biting the bullet to stay with you was a tedious process. He sat out in the car for a long time — he was surprised that you hadn’t come back outside asking why he was sitting there with his head pressed against the steering wheel.

When he finally made the choice to go up to your door, the walk felt like a lengthy, eternal drag. Jesse rocked forward, pressing his hands against his face as he composed himself. Back in high school, he was suave — much more of a charmer. Nowadays, he felt incompetent, but it was largely due to an amalgamation of nerves and drug use.

He knocked a few times, skin crawling with a nervous sensation, but there was something exciting about it, too. You were familiar yet new, a breath of fresh air that he desperately needed. Jesse watched as the door opened, and there you were.

“Hey, uh,” Jesse stuck his hands into his pockets, rocking back upon his heels. “Is the offer still on the table?” He’d ask, and your lips split into a gentle yet bemused smile.

“Of course.” You’d changed into your pajamas — a baggy, oversized graphic t-shirt and cotton shorts that were dwarfed by your top. “Did you want to watch a movie? I was about to start Watchmen.”

Jesse watched as you stepped aside to invite him in, closing the door behind him and latching the lock. You had a weird itch for security, especially at night. “Yeah, that sounds cool.” He replied, having a look around.

Your apartment was tidy and very cozy, with a rather comforting aesthetic and atmosphere. Jesse felt a little more relaxed, wandering around in the small living room. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the plush sofa, scattered with throw blankets and pillows.

As you prepared coffee, you wondered what changed his mind. It was a question that would likely nag at you until you asked. You understood being lonely — aside from the occasional hangout with your friends, you lived alone.

“Make yourself at home,” You chimed, weaving around the coffee table to place your steaming mugs down, settling into the couch. Jesse sat a comfortable distance away, arm slung over the back of the sofa. “What changed your mind?”

Your question caught him off-guard, but he wanted to be transparent with you. He owed you that much, especially after talking to him — after this, after everything. “I knew that I’d be miserable if I went back,” He shrugged. “I don’t wanna keep being miserable.” Loneliness also played a factor in this, but he didn’t really want to own up to it just yet.

“I understand,” You began, tucking one knee toward your chest as you played the movie. Admittedly, it served as better background noise than anything else. “I’m glad you came over.” Your lips split into a soft smile.

Jesse hesitated, glancing over at you as he stayed silent. He was most definitely drinking you in, gaze subtly raking you over as you took a sip of your coffee. For a moment, he envisioned this — getting close to you, hanging out with you, just getting to be himself, or as close as he could get again.

“I’m glad, too.” Jesse confessed, rubbing at the back of his head. He nearly shriveled at the eye contact you made with him, but he maintained it instead, lips twitching into a faint smile.

You nudged your drink back onto the wooden table, wordlessly slinking closer to Jesse until you were curled up beside him. The silence simmered with something else, perhaps a crackle of affection. Your gaze glistened with a peculiar softness, flickering between the movie and him.

Admittedly, this was the last thing Jesse expected — but that didn’t stop him from wanting it to happen. Once you initiated, he decided to meet you halfway, draping his arm around you, cheek pressed against the top of your head.

He’d been craving something like this for a while now. Jane left a void — a massive, gaping wound that he feared wouldn’t heal, but now? Maybe there was an end in sight — maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Jesse relaxed, sinking into you as you cuddled up with him.

Your hands intertwined, fingers brushing together until they joined. Just like Jesse, you were chasing after the sensation of touch, chasing after that feeling of fulfillment — no more loneliness. You’d been dealing with it for a long while, trying to manage the sea of emotions, and this was a nice break from that.

“I understand feeling miserable,” You murmured, head resting comfortably against his collarbone. “Sometimes it feels like you’re alone out on a raft, in the middle of the ocean.”

Jesse’s jaw tightened, but there was a mutual sense of empathy and understanding within your words. That was how he felt oftentimes — just himself, attempting to stay afloat. He didn’t say anything, but he did caress your knuckles with his thumb as a form of acknowledgment.

As the movie progressed, the two of you occasionally made small talk, but you were a little engrossed by the film, and so was he. It was comforting to just be near him — let him hold you, keep it light with gentle touches and whatnot.

It wasn’t until halfway through the movie that Jesse cleared his throat, glancing down at you with exhausted eyes. “Thanks for this,” He murmured, absentmindedly wetting his lower lip. “Would you wanna do it again? Like, uh … Hanging out, or something?” He was intent on cleaning up his place, now.

“Yeah,” You replied, twisting within his hold enough to peer up at him. “I would.” There was something special about this — perhaps a feeling of renewal, of starting something with someone you never expected. You had a feeling that Jesse needed a little bit of support, and you didn’t mind providing that.

“Shit,” Jesse breathed through a soft laugh, visibly bewildered yet pleased by your answer. “Okay.” He didn’t expect that from you — he didn’t expect anything, really.

The both of you were smiling, now. Watchmen dissipated into the background once more, simply serving as ambience as the two of you nestled together. “Okay.” You parroted, lips curling into a lopsided smile as Jesse gathered his bearings.

You had little time to fully comprehend his next actions — he moved inward, cerulean hues dropping from your face to your mouth. Everything about this screamed sudden and intense, but you didn’t care. He tasted like cigarette smoke and spearmint gum — he had a very sweet kiss.

Jesse inhaled, relaxing into you, careening right into the warmth of your body. Every fiber of his being felt electrified, and he became so incredibly nervous — he hadn’t done this since Jane. He didn’t want her death to tarnish the moment, but it was inevitable.

He pulled away, opening his mouth to speak, yet nothing emerged. Words turned to ash upon his tongue, dying then and there as he hung his head, fingers toying with yours.

It wasn’t difficult to tell that he was struggling with this — you didn’t want to pry, but you didn’t want him to feel obligated, either. “Hey,” You murmured, dragging one hand toward his face, fingertips grazing over his stubbled jaw. “What’s wrong?” It was written all over his countenance, this underlying sense of pain.

“Nothing, just …” Jesse shivered when your palm cupped his jaw, shamelessly leaning into the sensation you left behind from your hand. “I just don’t wanna leave.” It sounded so pathetic — he didn’t want to go back home to a drug-laden pit.

Your lips twitched into a faint smile. “Is that it?” You left it open-ended, attempting to stay on the side of not being invasive or pushy. You wanted him to be comfortable.

Jesse huffed, idly tracing the pad of his thumb across the delicate plane of your knuckles. “Nah,” He admitted, cerulean hues flickering toward your face. “Haven’t really done this in awhile.” Telling you the visceral, painful truth would’ve been too much for him, so he settled on something else, something superficial.

“What, kissing?” You teased, keeping it mellow and lighthearted before he shook his head. “If it’s any reassurance, I haven’t done anything, either. Don’t feel like it’s just you.” With a soft sigh, you watched as Jesse leaned back just an inch or two, head craned to rest against your couch.

There was something forlorn about him, a light aura of melancholy that swirled around his being. You didn’t want to ask, but you couldn’t help but wonder what happened. You were able to look past that — he was attractive. You’d always thought that he was handsome.

“You, uh … You mind if we do it again?” Jesse asked, head cocked to one side. He was some amalgamation of sheepishness and a suave charm, smile somewhat feeble as he held your hand.

“I don’t mind.” You replied, but before he could lean in again, you had something on your mind. “Jesse?”

Jesse stooped closer, forehead nearly pressed against yours. “Yeah?”

“Would it help if you stayed tonight?” Whatever was plaguing him, being alone around drugs was the last thing he needed. You didn’t mind him staying the night — you didn’t mind whatever came with that, too.

He remained silent for a few moments, and immediately felt as if he should say no — and against his own inner turmoil, he wanted to be with you. He didn’t care if the house was a mess or if it had been reduced to nothing — he’d rather stay here with you.

“I don’t wanna disturb the peace,” Jesse began, nose wrinkling slightly when you rolled your eyes. “I can crash on the couch.” Admittedly, that sliver of him that was desperate for affection also wanted to sleep with you, but it was only polite to keep his distance until you said otherwise.

“You’re not disturbing anything. Promise.” You reassured, fingers creeping toward the nape of his neck as you tilted forward. “I want you to stay.” You uttered, your own desire for fulfillment and company mirrored his own want to not be alone.

Part of him really wished you hadn’t said that — but once the gate was open, Jesse couldn’t stop himself, and neither could you. His gaze fell to your lips, thumb briefly caressing your jaw until the two of you were colliding into one another.

Jesse kissed you again, compassionate and borderline needy, hand dropping to grasp at the curve of your hip. His free hand still remained tangled with yours, eyes fluttering shut as you shuffled forward, partially planted within his lap. It was enough to make him forget about the downward spiral he was on, and it was as if the plummeting had ceased — for now.

You didn’t know where this would lead, but that was the exhilarating part about it. The uncertainty and the newfound territory that was Jesse Pinkman elated you. Maybe this was what you needed; he was what you needed — you needed a fresh start.

“Hey, uh,” Jesse whispered against your mouth, fingers teasing the hem of your baggy shirt, grazing over your thigh. “Where we going with this?” It was spoken with compassion and concern, out of total thoughtfulness for you. Maybe you didn’t want to sleep with a junkie — he couldn’t blame you.

“I think I know where I’d like to go,” You confessed, head canting to one side. “Where do you want to go?” You asked, idly trailing your digits through his hair. You noticed the subtle bobbing of his Adam’s apple, accompanied by a peculiar sheen within his eyes.

If it was something serious that you were after, Jesse was unsure if he even had that capability. After Jane, it almost seemed to shatter — fall apart. Maybe it didn’t have to be that way forever. Perhaps, there was a light at the end of the tunnel for the two of you.

Instead of recoiling, Jesse held you closer, wordlessly ushering you into his lap, palm splayed out underneath your shirt, resting soundly at the curve of your hip. “I just,” He hesitated, completely enamored by you — you were beautiful. “I don’t know if I can be what you need right now.” He admitted.

You respected him all the more for his candor, hands coming to rest at the nape of his neck. You decided to kiss him, slow and steady, tilting to one side for something deeper. When you withdrew, your lips twitched into a smile. “I’m patient.” With that conclusion alone, Jesse relaxed.

He felt a bit of pressure relinquish itself from him, like a weight being removed from his chest. Jesse was worried that you’d want something serious, something strict off the bat. He didn’t intend on sleeping around, but he was afraid of disappointing you more than anything.

Given the implication of your interactions, Jesse had something on his mind — he figured that the feeling was mutual.

Jesse remained quiet for a moment, pressing a sweet kiss against your jaw, and then another to your neck. “Where’s your room?” He murmured, nearly shuddering in delight when you absentmindedly tugged on his hair.

“Come on.” Reluctantly, you removed yourself from his lap, taking ahold of his hand as you led him down the short corridor towards your bedroom. It was, as Jesse expected, lavishly-decorated and aesthetically pleasing. It far outweighed the dump he was living in.

“Cute.” Jesse couldn’t help but comment, lips twitching into a smile as he observed your choice of style and the many pillows piled up on top of your mattress. Admittedly, it all felt so cozy and welcoming — it even smelled good.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you watched as Jesse nudged the door closed. The both of you were swallowed by the lower, dim lighting of your bedroom, slivers of orange encompassing your scantily-clad frame.

He pressed closer, hands roaming across your body, one palm gently slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to brazenly grab at your ass. Locked in another heated kiss, your hands moved to push his jacket away, draping across his shoulders.

The sensation of your fingers roaming through his hair was enough to make his knees weak, a low groan resonating within his throat. You tasted sweet, like the twang of strawberry chapstick and the citrus seltzer you’d been drinking at the party. Jesse kissed you again, greedily this time, one hand cupping the curve of your hip.

As the two of you fell onto your bed in a feverish heap of limbs and mouths, you withdrew for a moment, getting yourself adjusted. You prepared to remove your shirt until you saw Jesse laying there, eyes half-lidded. Exhaustion was scrawled into his face, as if it were a permanent feature.

“Are you tired?” You asked, more concerned about his state of wellbeing. You were getting hot and bothered, but your own desire could be put on hold for a little while.

Jesse appeared embarrassed, but with the bags underneath his eyes and the perpetual state of tiredness that hung around him, he couldn’t lie to you. “Yeah,” He chewed at the inside of his cheek. “Shit, this feels pathetic. I’m practically blue-balling myself.” He mused, and it made you giggle.

“It’s not pathetic, Jesse.” You reassured, opting to climb into bed and make yourself comfortable. Jesse kicked off his shoes, following suit until he was resting at your side, arms tangled around you. “You look like you’re seconds away from crashing. I think we can put sex aside for now.”

Begrudgingly, he felt you cuddle against him, head near his collarbone as he made himself comfortable with you. His erection happened to push into your rump throughout, but before you could make a playful comment about it, his breathing had steadied.

“Jesse?” You whispered, receiving no response. He was most definitely asleep, and you confirmed this by simply rolling over. His expression was cast into one of bliss, still clutching onto you even through slumber. You sank back down with a smile, and decided to sleep, too.

—

Slivers of dawn’s first light trickled through the gossamer curtains — faint enough not to draw any attention, but enough to signal to Jesse that it was early in the morning. He’d stayed the night, and even then, it didn’t seem real.

You were asleep at his side, still nestled against him, but beginning to stir. Jesse couldn’t tell if it was because you were really waking up, or because his hard-on was protruding into you. He remembered last night — kissing you before he’d fallen asleep.

It wasn’t one of his smoothest moments — not by a long shot.

“Hey,” As the haze of grogginess began to lift, you were elated to find Jesse — still in your bed, and still next to you. Even being disheveled from sleep, Jesse found you to be astoundingly gorgeous. There was perfection to you that he wanted to drown himself inside of. “You’re here.” You smiled.

“Did you think I ditched or something?” He asked, arm draped around you as you shook off the feeling of slumber. Admittedly, part of you thought he’d wake up and leave, but he proved you wrong.

“A little bit,” You confessed, feeling his hand trace idle patterns into the dip of your waist. You wriggled closer, pressing a soft kiss against his stubbled jaw. “But I’m glad you didn’t.” It was complete and utter bliss, waking up with him — it was the last thing you expected, but you could get used to it.

Jesse huffed, hand dragging from your waist to your face, palm cupping your cheek as he caressed your jaw with his thumb. “Nah,” He smiled this time, cerulean eyes boring into you, becoming lost in the mere presence of you. “Didn’t even cross my mind, if I’m being honest.”

You smiled, eyelashes fluttering in rapid succession before you planted a sloppy, slower kiss against his lips. “What crossed your mind instead?” You asked, careening into the sensation of his palm cradling your face.

Jesse felt much better, no longer plagued by the desire for sleep. Instead, there was something else he wanted — he wanted to pick up from last night. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours, hand skimming toward your thigh.

“Lots of stuff,” He began, coaxing you against him as he answered your question in between a series of heated, needy kisses. “All about you.” Jesse confessed, peering at you through his lashes before his hand gently grabbed at your ass.

“Yeah? Do you wanna show me?” You asked, becoming a bit breathless whenever he kissed you. It was accompanied by plenty of groping, ensuring that you were flush against him as the tension rose to a boiling point between the two of you.

You weren’t about to recoil, reciprocating his kiss with a passionate one of your own, stomach churning with anticipation. Your hand moved toward the nape of his neck, fingers lightly grabbing at his hair. Each kiss was sweet yet sloppy, and you could feel Jesse’s hand underneath your shirt.

“Yeah, I do. Do you wanna do this?” Jesse murmured, ensuring that he wasn’t jumping the gun. You could’ve changed your mind from last night — that was certainly a possibility, and he’d be just fine with it. He was partially on top of you, but he leaned back enough to gauge your answer.

“Absolutely.” You smiled, sitting up enough to get your shirt off, which Jesse kindly assisted with. The both of you sank into a rather peaceful moment, blissfully quiet as he wriggled out of his shirt.

Jesse leaned forward again, capturing your mouth in a passionate, heated kiss, his hands finding the smooth curve of your hips. “You’re so pretty.” He exhaled, feeling that little pang of nervousness. He hadn’t touched a girl since Jane, but he wasn’t about to let himself be thrust into the past, not now.

Heat saturated your skin, crawling all over you like a fever. In the wake of Jesse’s compliment, you felt sheer elation, feeling his lips roam from your mouth to your jaw. His hands were everywhere, inevitably finding their purchase against your thighs. He peppered a string of kisses from your jaw to your neck, though his kisses soon turned to suckling.

“Jesse.” You moaned, haplessly grasping onto his shoulders as he left a series of hickeys on your neck. You felt his digits curl around the waistband of your panties, but he made no motion to remove them just yet.

Your moan was enough to make him shiver in delight, gaze following the path of your hand as you hastily unclasped your bra. You had such a beautiful body — Jesse felt some semblance of awe, snug against you as you got comfortable atop the comforter.

Continuing his previous route, Jesse’s mouth kissed down your neck and collarbone, stopping above your breasts. Even your smell was intoxicating — everything about you reeled him in. “Jesus,” He mumbled against your sternum. “You’re beautiful.” It was an endless string of softspoken praises that escaped him.

He was scrawny, with a lanky musculature — you found it attractive in the best of ways. Your gaze occasionally fell across his many tattoos, committing every detail to memory. Your fingers continued to tug and pull at his hair, body jolting into him when his mouth wrapped around your nipple.

A low groan resonated from his throat, rippling across his chest when you continued to toy with his hair. His hand traced down the plane of your stomach, slipping underneath the elastic trim of your panties. You nearly buckled, writhing underneath him when his digits slipped against your cunt.

You felt his mouth suck and kiss at your breast, in-tandem with the teasing ministrations of his fingers. It was feather-light, enough to drive you to the brink of frustration. “You wet already, angel?” It was almost an incredulous statement instead of a question.

Fuck — the nickname was enough to send shockwaves pulsating through your body. Your skin became awash with warmth, lips falling apart as you peered down, enough to catch a glimpse of those half-lidded, cerulean eyes and the adoring tilt of his lips. Goosebumps snaked across your spine, back arching off of the bed.

Jesse wasn’t dumb — he knew that your reaction was from the nickname. He pressed his tongue against his cheek, pressing a string of kisses from your breast to stomach, tattooed hand curling into your panties as he inched them past your thighs.

“Say it again,” It was a command that fell from your mouth, and not a plea. Your fingers happened to tense within his hair, enough to make his jeans become uncomfortably tight. “Please.” With a breathy exhale, you felt Jesse’s lips trace across the curve of your hip.

He felt his heart hammer with erratic excitement, tongue absentmindedly flicking out to trace across his lower lip. Christ, you looked so perfect like this — Jesse watched you, breathing intensifying as you spread your legs just a little bit. He often walked the line between nervousness and confidence, feeling a sense of boldness swell within him.

His breath fanned across the inside of your thigh, lips ghosting over the soft skin there. Jesse’s gaze remained fixated upon you, glistening with a sheen of lust as he finally began to kiss his way to the throbbing between your legs. “Where do you want me, angel?” Jesse murmured, assuming that he knew the answer.

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt this way — floating, so unbelievably slick and warm that you felt feverish. Jesse brought out a new level of neediness and desperation that you never thought possible. “Jesse,” You moaned, squirming haplessly as you urged him closer. “Please, please.”

Jesse swallowed, wordlessly following the motion of your hand as he lapped at your cunt, tongue dragging along the length of your slit. You were whimpering, one hand grappling at his freckled shoulder. He was so turned on from the noises you made, enough for him to grind his hips into the mattress.

You sputtered a very pitiful apology when your hips bucked forward, but you were met with a barrage of needy licks and a faint moan. Slivers of morning light pooled through the curtains, falling across Jesse as he buried his face between your thighs. His weeks-old stubble rubbed against the sensitive flesh of your legs.

Nimble digits skimmed forward, one palm splayed against your pelvis as the other gripped down on your thigh. You wanted to sob from how good it felt — he was talented with his mouth, that much was for sure. His tongue flicked over your clit, gestures rhythmic and steady.

A knot formed within your stomach, a coil that continued to tighten, threatening to burst if Jesse kept it up. It all felt like some foreign fever dream, but you much preferred the current reality — Jesse Pinkman, eating you out until you cried. You felt his hand brush against yours, a gesture that was startlingly tender.

One hand untangled itself from his hair, deciding to give him a break, going to hold his hand instead, fingers lacing together. You felt his lips begin to purse around your clit, simultaneously eliciting another noisy, elated moan from your lips.

Your chest heaved with a myriad of throaty, high-pitched whimpers as he sucked on your clit, stars rippling past your vision. No one had ever gone down on you with such reverence and passion before, but now that you’d gotten a taste, you wanted more.

Jesse hadn’t realized it, but somewhere in the thick of hooking up with you, he was feeling like himself again. It almost felt as if he’d been transported back to a time before he’d met Walter White, to a time where he was slinging crystal and simply enjoying life. Each moan, every little mewl and keen that escaped you was akin to music.

“Jesse,” You panted, breathing somewhat ragged as he lapped at your clit. That coil began to unfurl, blistering heat coursing through you, a white-hot rush of sheer ecstasy that caused you to moan and cry out. “Jesse!” You felt him squeeze your hand, a silent reassurance to let go.

Unbothered by the mess, Jesse groaned, feeding off of your orgasm as he lapped at your cunt, ministrations lacking the vigor from before. Your stomach felt like mush, but you wanted him to fuck you senseless — you almost felt embarrassed for how wound-up you’d become.

He was quiet, kissing your thighs as he began to sit back up, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. Jesse ogled you, head cocking to one side before he spoke. “You are so beautiful.” It wasn’t something spoken lightly during sex — you felt it seep right into your bones, genuine as ever.

“So are you.” You replied, and you watched his throat bob as he swallowed. Jesse crawled up, and in a flurry of unrestrained passion, he kissed your mouth. You could taste yourself, taste him — it was enough to make your cunt throb again, still dealing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Could you, uh …” Jesse mumbled, erection pulsing and rubbing right into the pliant flesh of your thigh. “I want you on top.” He was used to climbing on top of girls and going to town until he ran out of stamina, but he had different reasons this time. “I wanna see you.”

Your heart fluttered within your chest, and you nodded, watching as he rolled over, making himself comfortable atop the mound of pillows lining your bed. There was something eerily intimate in the way that he spoke — maybe it was just you. It was soft and sweet, enough to make you shudder as you straddled his hips.

Reaching for his belt, you unfastened it, moving enough for him to kick his pants off. His hands moved toward your thighs, fingers caressing across your flesh as the both of you worked to remove the final article of clothing. He was quiet this time, staring up at you with a searing, intense look — it was almost adoring.

He was unbearably hard, hips writhing slightly, desperate to be inside of you. Jesse nearly melted at the sensation of your hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a few, sluggish strokes, thumb swiping across the head before you lifted yourself up just enough.

Jesse groaned in tandem with you as you sank down onto his length, digits tensing into your thighs as you adjusted yourself, lips falling apart. You reached for his hands, fingers twining together. Goosebumps erupted across his body, chest fluttering with an unshakable warmth.

“Jesus.” Jesse breathed, watching as you stooped down to press your mouth against his, open-mouthed and sloppy. His tongue traced across your lower lip, and you responded by rolling your hips forward. He exhaled, reciprocating with another heated, messy kiss.

He released one of your hands, enough to grip onto your hip, guiding you into a steady rhythm. Your pace was somewhat sporadic and erratic at first, slipping into a natural flow once he held onto you. Jesse groans, unable to keep from staring at you as if you were perfection incarnate.

You whimper, using your knees to rock yourself up and back down, sinking onto his cock until he’s bottomed out. The intermingling of your moans fill your bedroom, accompanied by the faint squeak and creak of your bed frame. “Jesse.” You mewl, feeling his lips smack against your collarbone.

What started as something slow and sluggish had gained traction, your pace increasing slightly. A crackling, familiar heat raced across your body, making your stomach churn with anticipation, simultaneously pooling with warmth.

A soft moan tore past his lips, skin flushing with a rosy shade as you careened forward, one palm splaying out across his chest. “Shit,” Jesse’s voice emerged again as an excitable pant, squeezing your hand as you continued to piston yourself up and down. “You feel so good, baby.” Any little nickname was enough to make you preen.

Heat rippled through you, continuing to consume your body in waves. He sat up, enough to be within reach of you as he pressed a messy, sultry kiss against your collarbone, clamoring for your mouth as you tilted your head downward.

Your hand snaked from his chest to the nape of his neck, gripping his hair once. Your motions became somewhat uneven and less rhythmic as you rocked yourself on his cock, mewling and whimpering, noises intertwining with his strenuous groans. His palm grabbed at the curve between your thigh and ass, gripping you tight as you rode him.

“M’close,” You huffed, prying your lips away from his, only for you to press a trail of haphazard kisses against his stubbled jaw. “Jesse.” Another whine escaped you, followed by a cacophony of lewd noises. Your thighs felt a strain and burn from pistoning yourself onto his cock so many times, heat pooling between your legs.

Jesse was right there with you, though he wasn’t entirely sure where you wanted him to unload, to put it mildly. “Where do you want me?” He asked again, mirroring his inquiry from earlier. You slowed somewhat at that question, but he shook his head. “Keep going.” Despite the sting of borderline overstimulation, he didn’t want you to stop.

Both of his hands redirected themselves to your hips, guiding you along, letting you grind yourself forward, rolling your hips up and back onto his length. He groaned again, forehead pressed against yours, skin feeling as if it were set ablaze. The hold you had on him already was rather ironclad.

He kissed you again, unusually intimate and full of desire, digits groping and kneading into your curves. Your skin felt velvety underneath his fingertips, and your scent invaded his senses, overwhelming him in the best way possible. His cock was throbbing, swallowed by your tight cunt as you whimpered his name.

“Not inside.” You cautioned, breathlessly clashing with him again — all tongue, teeth and want as Jesse nudged you back. With your newfound position, legs locked around his lanky musculature as he rutted into you, you felt like you were seeing stars. “Holy shit, Jesse!” You moaned.

Jesse wasn’t grotesquely well-endowed, but he knew exactly how to utilize what he had. He felt like he’d broken the barrier right then and there, bottomed out inside of you before he pulled out, cumming onto your stomach. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen as thin ropes of slick seed fell across your abdomen.

His chest heaved with recuperative breaths, perspiration glistening along his brow as he hovered over you. The two of you sighed in-tandem, both coming down from a blissful high. Those pretty, cerulean eyes of his consumed you over and over again, fluttering in rapid succession before he lowered himself to kiss you.

It was slow — too slow, almost, but Jesse savored you, instead. Your nails ghosted across his forearm, tracing around the intricate pattern of his tattoo before skimming toward his shoulders. You reciprocated the kiss with a familiar sweetness, unhooking one leg from his waist.

“Sorry,” Jesse mumbled, gesturing toward the sticky mess that was splattered all over your stomach. “You look so pretty like that.” His tone lowered, taking on some delicious pitch that itched a certain part of you, sending goosebumps trailing across your spine.

Before you could respond, Jesse slipped off of you, tugging on his boxers as he wandered toward your bathroom to grab a towel. It was the first one he could get his hands on, returning to you with a rather adoring look in his eyes.

As you cleaned yourself up, making sure to discard the towel into your laundry basket, Jesse reappeared with a glass of water. It was quite endearing, watching the way he took care of you afterwards without being asked to. He sat next to you, watching as you pulled your panties back on and your t-shirt.

“That was really nice.” Admittedly, you needed it — but it felt better than before, all due to Jesse. You curled up next to him, head resting against his collarbone as his palm moved to cradle your face.

“Yeah, it was.” Jesse murmured, wishing that he could stay with you. He needed to get back home — the house was likely ruined. He’d also briefly glanced at his phone and noticed four missed calls from Mr. White’s number. “I wanna do it again.”

You giggled, nose wrinkling in amusement. “Hanging out together or having sex?” You asked, and he scoffed, lips twitching in a brief flash of a smile. “You can be honest, Jesse. I can handle it.”

“Both,” He confessed, savoring the feeling of your hand delicately tracing over the tattoo on his collarbone. “What if I took you out somewhere, yeah? Like on a date.” Jesse couldn’t believe that he’d asked you, but it was out in the open, now — no going back.

“Okay.” You mused, gaze flickering toward his lips. You would never get tired of kissing him — the taste of spearmint and cigarettes had become borderline addictive. “You can take me out.” With that, you leaned forward, pressing your mouth against his.

Jesse exhaled, reciprocating your kiss with one of his own. He squeezed his eyes shut, pad of his thumb caressing over your jawline. “Shit,” He sighed, a forlorn look within his eyes. “I gotta get going. I don’t want to.” He didn’t want to leave, but he had a feeling he’d be seeing you again soon. His phone vibrated again.

You yearned for the contact when he’d rolled out of your bed, getting himself dressed again. Once he found his jacket and keys, you decided to walk him to the door, standing with him in the cool morning breeze. Sunlight glittered down, bathing the both of you in picturesque lighting.

“Jesse,” You murmured, hand poised along the doorframe. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” You asked, watching him linger around on the front step as he glanced toward his car. After everything that happened, from last night to now, you were a little worried. He wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind — that much you knew.

Jesse hesitated — he didn’t have a viable answer to that. His house was a drug-laden pit, he was beginning to spiral, but you’d kicked him back onto a different path. It was an unpredictable road ahead. Even he had no idea how he’d feel by the end of the day, but one thing was for certain — he’d be okay for you.

He swallowed, and then nodded twice. “Yeah, I think so.” His chest tightened with a flurry of emotions, ones he hadn’t felt since Jane was around. Jesse was absolutely enthralled by you — and he wondered if that would lead to your doom.

With that, you nodded, beginning to turn around. Before you could, you felt a hand curling around your wrist, as if guiding you elsewhere.

“Hey,” Jesse muttered, reeling you back in for a gentle kiss. “I’ll see you later.” It was a promise to himself, more than it was to you. He was reluctant to pull away, but the buzzing in his pocket became rather urgent.

The kiss caught you off-guard, stealing every wisp of air right out of your lungs, warmth creeping across your skin until it burned something hot within your cheeks. You opened your mouth, unable to keep from smiling.

“See you later, Jesse.”

You really hoped that you would.

#jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman x you #breaking bad #jesse pinkman fanfiction #jesse pinkman #breaking bad fanfiction #breaking bad fanfic #better call saul #female reader #aaron paul #sunkendreams masterlist

543 notes · View notes

cappincooks · 2 years

Text

your fault, by the way.

[Fluff ] Jesse Pinkman x Reader

"Anyways, uh, is it hot in here, or is it just me?" Another dry chuckle escaped from your lips. You propped yourself to get up and get some fresh air since your nervousness was making you sweaty. "It's you."

"Jesus Jesse, your place stinks ass."

You set your foot in Jess' house after like, what? A few years of no contact probably? You guys were pretty close back in high school, but he just gradually stopped talking to you out of nowhere. God knows how much you missed him. Some might even say the feelings you had for him surpassed friendship. But you would never let him know that.

To conceal your slight excitement about finally hanging out with him again, you roast his place even more. "What'd you even do to get it this disgusting, man?"

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Just drop your bags on the floor, yo. It's cool."

You didn't need to look hard and long to see just how messy (an understatement) his living room was. It was full of pizza boxes, sticky...substances... bottles on the floor, it was just a lot. Nevertheless, you still place your bags on the floor.

Jesse was tidying up his couch a little bit and pats a spot right next to him, once it was clean enough for sitting.

"Sooo.." He says, breaking the silence. "Why me?"

Turning your head in his direction with furrowed eyebrows was enough for him to clarify what he meant by that.

He shifted from his position and continued. "I meant, like, why my place? Ya know? I know you're here in ABQ for like, important shit but like, you could totally crash at someone else's place, right? We haven't talked in years, and suddenly you're cool with staying at my place? Don't get me wrong-"

"Your fault, by the way." You interrupted.

"Oh yeah, no, I know." He hung his head low. His eyes looked at every corner of his living room just to avoid looking at you.

"Jesse, I didn't come here for 'important shit' or whatever it is that you think it is." Important shit was in air quotation marks. "I just wanted a way to get you to talk to me again."

Now you got his eyes on you.

"Why..?"

You could see he was fiddling with his fingers. You found it somewhat endearing that he was still the Jesse you knew back then. Back in high school, he was the "stoner junkie kid who was overly confident and gave zero fucks about anyone" but you knew he was more than that—softer than that. Whenever he finds himself in an anxious situation, you could bet he was gonna fiddle with his fingers.

He was anxious now.

"I..." You sighed. Jesus, this is hard to admit out loud. "I missed, you, Jess." Staring back at those familiar, soft eyes was hard as you continued but you marched on. "I mean, it isn't exactly ideal for your best friend to just.. leave you hanging out of nowhere. I missed you every single day. You just... stopped talking to me and I still don't know why that is." You dryly chuckled.

After your confession, the silence dragged out for a while. Too long. With no sign of Jesse's response, you cleared your throat to change the subject.

"Anyways, uh, is it hot in here, or is it just me?" Another dry chuckle escaped from your lips. You propped yourself to get up and get some fresh air since your nervousness was making you sweaty.

"It's you."

You stopped in your tracks. "Uhh, what?"

To your surprise, you could feel Jesse's cold hand wrapped on your wrist. The scene looked straight out of a movie, like when the guy tries to catch up with the girl when she walks away from him. But only this looked like the lazier version of that trope. Jesse was on his butt on the couch. Romantic.

"To answer your question. It's you. You're hot." Jesse was dead serious, but you didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Wow, I didn't take you to be a gushing romantic, Pinkman." You remarked, slightly laughing.

Jesse stood up, but his hand never left your wrist. Though he wasn't rough with it at all, no. He was actually tender and gentle about it.

"Jeez, do I have to spell it out for you?"

"I can see your ass blushing all~ the way from here."

"Shut up."

"Well? Was that it? Totally head over heels for you now, for sure." You always found it fun to tease him.

Jesse laughed and shook his head, as he reached for your hands to hold them, instead of your wrist.

You guess there was always a small part of you that wanted for this to happen when both of you were younger. Both of you would find yourselves in a situation the same as this, but it would always, 10/10, wouldn't escalate into something more. Jesse always pulled back from it and laugh it off. So you figured that this was just one of those moments.

"Can't believe I'm saying this. Now. In my gross, dump, house. But uh, I've sorta always had a thing for you."

Damn did he prove you wrong.

Silence for a bit, but then you flicked his forehead. He definitely did not expect that.

"Ow?! What was that for?!"

"Then why'd you stop talking to me asshat?!" You crossed your arms. You weren't angry, but you are confused as to why he did what he did for all of those years.

Jesse was still rubbing his forehead when he answered in a groan. "I don't know man, jeez... Did you really take me for a commitment guy? ...I also just really didn't want to ruin what we had."

"By completely cutting me out of your life?"

"Well in my head it was easier for you to hate me because I was an ass to you, than me fucking up what we had because of my feelings."

"You know that makes no sense, Jess. I thought- I thought you hated me." You unintentionally made the tone of the conversation more serious.

"I would never."

"I just wish you never did that. You were, you are a big part of my life, then you're just gone. Never do that again, Jess." You were basically pleading at this point, but you didn't care. You couldn't afford to lose him again.

Jesse slowly reached out for your arms and rubbed them slowly to soothe you, console you.

"God. Sorry. I knew it was dumb but I did it anyway. Classic me, right?" You could hear him exhale loudly through his mouth. "I'm better now, I promise. I won't chicken out on you again."

Jesse then pulled you in for a hug. His scent was still the same. Cigarettes, a tinge of weed, his sweet laundry detergent, him. "You better not." You mumbled while your face was stuffed into his jacket.

You pulled back from him, though you wish you could stay in his warmth forever. Cheesy, even for you, but it was true. Jesse just had this comforting, warm presence to him that only a few people could access. He wasn't the best at letting people in, but you couldn't blame him.

"Stay?" And there it was. His signature Jesse Pinkman puppy eyes.

#jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman breaking bad #breaking bad #jesse pinkman fluff #aaron paul #cappincooks #jesse pinkman fanfic #breaking bad jesse pinkman fanfic

686 notes · View notes

incubum · 2 years

Text

"a little piece of heaven"

no d/s undertones, gender neutral reader, reader giving jesse a blowjob. cw for: dubcon, recreational drug use, and sex while high on weed

summary: "it was already pretty late. jesse had been there for a few hours, and the two of you had barely gotten up from the couch aside from you fetching drinks and snacks. it was comfortable, though; it felt like you were getting to redo all those years that you didn't give him a chance."

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39590829

jesse fucking pinkman.

you hadn't heard that name since highschool.

that's why, when he showed up at the door of your albuquerque apartment with a milk crate of belongings and a look on his face that was akin to a kicked puppy, you had questions. lots of them.

the biggest one being about how he found out where you lived, but that ended up getting glossed over hardcore.

you couldn't lie, you felt bad for him; his whole sob story worked on you...once you pressured it out of him, that is. you already had him inside and sitting on your couch, catching up on life, when you finally got him to tell you what really happened. you felt for him, deeply.

you and jesse weren't really close in highschool. you weren't really one to stick around his whole group of friends. it was nothing against them; not that you knew them well enough to have anything against them. you knew who they were, had spoken to jesse and badger once or twice...you just didn't hang around them often.

to be honest, not a lot of people did. jesse was basically a member of the dork squad in his teenage years. he wasn't that much different than he was in modern times, but in school, he was this tiny, asocial kid who drew superheroes on the backs of his tests.

kids came to him because he knew where to get pot. that was truly all he had going for him in his school years.

you wondered how he chose your place to show up at. you weren't sure he even remembered you, but...maybe you had a bigger impact on him than you thought in the first place. you were nice to him, after all; you could recall a couple times when you stuck up for him against the known assholes, or lent him a pencil and paper on some of the many days he showed up missing his whole backpack.

"just let me know when you get tired and i can help you pull the couch out, man." you nudged jesse with your elbow a little, only glancing away from the TV for a second to catch a glimpse of his face in the bluish light. you didn't even really know what you were watching. some competitive cooking show or something.

it was already pretty late. jesse had been there for a few hours, and the two of you had barely gotten up from the couch aside from you fetching drinks and snacks. it was comfortable, though; it felt like you were getting to redo all those years that you didn't give him a chance.

his company was nice, and you would be lying if you said you weren't lacking in the friend department as of late. you had a feeling that you were both lonely people these days. it felt good to be alone with someone else together. maybe he felt that way too.

"yeah, man, uh..." jesse's hand met the back of his head, scratching at the nape of his neck lightly for a moment, and he left it there, "do you...do you smoke in here?"

he seemed sheepish, like he was embarrassed to even mention it.

"i mean, you can go smoke on the balcony if you want to, i can't smoke inside. nicotine stains and stuff." you explained.

"no, i mean, uh..."

jesse leaned over the arm of the couch and dug around in the milk crate he had brought with him and placed next to it, until you heard the crinkle of a fold-top sandwich bag and he brought it into your view.

"oh."

your eyes widened, and you found yourself at a loss for words for a second. it was a little embarrassing for you, now, too. you knew jesse smoked weed; well, you knew that he used to smoke weed.

you saw his eyes flicker with regret, something like 'i should have kept my mouth shut', and you tried to think of what to say.

"well, i mean, one time won't hurt."

and you said that because you knew it wouldn't. sure, maybe the neighbors would smell it and complain, but would they really have any proof that it was coming from your apartment? you were sure worse things had happened in it before you came along. after all, you lived in the ABQ for your whole life.

it was like his eyes lit up with all the stars in the sky, and he frantically untied the knot in the bag, unleashing the pungent smell of good weed. not skunk shit; good, dank-smelling weed. you were brought back to your highschool days -- all the way back to the first time you ever smoked actual, high-quality weed and not the shitty, low-grade stuff you would get for $30 an ounce.

in the bag, alongside the nuggets of pot that sported a rich, green color with undertones of purple, were a thin box of rolling papers, and a black clipper lighter themed to look like día de muertos. he pulled them each out eagerly, leaned forward and placed them on the coffee table before pulling out a paper and laying it out proper on the cool wood.

"normally i would hold the paper to fill it up, but i forgot my grinder." says jesse, pulling out a good-sized nug and getting to work on ripping it into tiny pieces with his fingers. his hands were shaking, and he was all but bugeyed as he concentrated on the task of getting this joint rolled.

once he had the whole thing torn up and placed on the paper, he picked it up, carefully, and began rolling. he was very meticulous about it; it was almost mesmerizing to watch him doing it. his fingers were skilled, experienced, and your eyes focused themselves on his mouth as his tongue darted out of it to lick the paper and seal it shut.

was this erotic?

there's no fucking way. he's just rolling a joint, but...the way his irises were fixated on your face out of the corner of his eye, and his tongue gave one last, extra-slow swipe across the paper, said otherwise. jesse knew how closely you were watching him; he could feel your eyes on him, and the way you shifted uncomfortably in your spot on the couch next to him. he wasn't stupid, or naïve, or oblivious. jesse had been in this situation many times before, would be in it many more times in the future, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

when he finished twisting it at the end, jesse held up the slim, well-crafted joint between his thumb and forefinger, so you could get a closer look.

"good, right? been doin' it for a decade, at least."

you both shared a giggle, and jesse picked up the clipper lighter off the coffee table, placing the joint between his lips and cupping his free hand around the lighter to stop any airflow from getting by. there was one click, and then another, and then a tiny flame illuminating the space between his hands and burning the tip of the joint. he let go of the button on the lighter and pulled his hand away, inhaling strongly and then taking it back between his thumb and index to pull it away from his lips. he stayed there for a moment, before exhaling and offering it to you.

"oh god, jesse, you really don't know how long it's been since i've smoked...i would choke myself up." you held your hand up for good measure, and a charming grin found its way onto jesse's face. he smiled like he thought it was cute, plush lips curling up to make one, admittedly, very attractive grin.

"i can show you how to not choke, if you want." he raised his eyebrows, nodded his head in your direction as a 'c'mon, you know you want to.'

"yeah?"

"yeah. just watch me. get real close."

jesse leaned in closer to you, and brought the joint back to his lips, inhaling deeply. his eyes were so beautiful up-close; you found yourself excited for tomorrow, when the sun would be up and you could view them in better lighting. you were deep in your thoughts, heart pounding at the close proximity, and--

jesse's hand met the back of your head and his lips crashed into yours, all at once, causing you to gasp, which gave him the chance to exhale the woody smoke into your throat and lungs. when he pulled away, you were coughing and gasping for air...and happy that he couldn't see how red your face was.

"you-- you lied to me!" you gasped out, as jesse laughed and rubbed your back soothingly. your stomach bounced around in your gut, fluttering and dancing and frolicking in the field of your body like it wanted to jump out.

"hey, man, it usually works." jesse snickered, ceasing the motion of his hand on your back after you calmed down a little bit and were no longer coughing.

"i think you just surprised me." you looked at jesse through your eyelashes, and saw him smile back at you, joint already between his lips again. his hand met your cheek and guided your head to turn and face him, as he inhaled, a little less intensely as before. when he took the joint into his free hand, you prepared yourself.

your lips met again, your eyes fluttering closed this time as you breathed in the smoke. it wasn't reallya kiss, but it might as well have been; jesse's left hand cupped your cheek tenderly, and his right brought itself up to your neck, toke between its fingers, careful not to burn you with it. it was way more intimate than 'just' him showing you a new method of smoking.

he pulled away, all-too-soon, and as you exhaled you thought deeply about how you missed him. you missed him the second the pulled away from you, even if he was right there.

you didn't cough this time. to be truthful, you were starting to feel a buzz; your coughing fit from before must have dropped your blood sugar and made it hit you harder. it was like you blinked and the joint was gone, though. it was already burned down to a roach.

"you don't have an ashtray, do you?" he asked. you shook your head coyly.

"okay, come here."

jesse leaned in really close, and brought his left hand up to your face again, cupping it gently, and this time his thumb stroked your cheek, almost lovingly. you thought that maybe he would kiss you, for real this time, until...he asked you to stick your tongue out. you were hesitant, but ultimately obeyed; for some reason, his every whim became your goal.

you didn't know what you expected, but the warmth of the roach against the tip of your tongue was not it. maybe you should have known, just from context clues, but something like that felt way too mean-spirited for jesse pinkman to get a kick out of. he was never one to hurt people just for the purpose of hurting them.

then again, it didn't hurt. there was a short, dull sting before the moisture of your tongue put the ash out and he placed the roach on the coffee table next to the little baggie of weed he picked the nug out of. it was like his hand never left your face. jesse was staring deep into your soul, drinking in your face under the blue light of the TV you had both all-but-forgotten about.

"you want me to roll another one? you feelin' pretty good?"

jesse cooed the question at you, a beautiful, genuine smile on his face. you'd never smoked with him before -- hell, you barely knew him -- but maybe he just got like this when he was high. you knew for sure that you did. all you could focus on was those perfect, blue eyes that devoured every feature on your face as they scanned across it.

you stared back at him for a while before you realized you didn't answer.

"no, uh...i'm-- i'm good." was what you managed to get out. you weren't greened out, but you were high enough to feel stupid...dumb and robotic, and your mind felt like it finally stopped racing like it's always done. the two of you sat like that for a while, his thumb stroking your cheek and providing a consistent stimulation that kept you grounded. it was exactly what you needed. he knew exactlywhat you needed.

you couldn't help but think about how this could have gone if you had given him a chance in high school. it's not like it was solely your fault that you didn't hang out; he never made an effort to speak to you either, aside from the few times that you didinteract in school. god, has he always been so cute?

you were in your head again when the feeling of his lips against yours brought you back. your first instinct was to inhale, which made him laugh against your lips before you caught on that this was actually happening. jesse's lips slotted against yours perfectly, and you quickly matched his rhythm (trying your hardest to breathe through your nose).

you were pushed backwards against the arm of the couch. you let out a soft moan into jesse's mouth, and immediately, you felt legs straddling one of your own, a knee being placed effectively between your thighs. it felt like everything was happening so fast, but not fast enough. especially not when his teeth caught your bottom lip between them, encouraging you to part your lips for his tongue to enter your mouth.

he massaged your tongue with his, yours only returning the favor languidly, as your hips rocked slow, and unsteady, against jesse's thigh. when jesse pulled away, he let out another soft, sweet laugh.

"god, you're really fucked up right now." jesse's hands found themselves on your waist (or were they there before?), hiking up your shirt just the slightest bit so that he could feel your warm stomach against his cold hands, "we shouldn't do this. you're higher than me. that makes it unfair."

you only stare back at him blankly, before taking the initiative to lift your knee up so your own thigh makes gentle contact with his crotch, eliciting a soft gasp from the man above you. his eyes screwed shut, and he let out a quiet 'fuuuck', head tilted back just a little. god, he was fucking hard, because, of course he was.

"but...i want to." you finally stated. you took note of jesse rocking his hips in time with your leg rubbing against him.

"yeah, but-- fuck. you're really fuckin' high, you don't know what you want...i can't do anything to you. not right now."

"but what if i do something to you?"

you looked up at jesse, eyes wide and pupils blown, just in time for him to open his eyes and look back down at you.

"i don't know, i..." he trailed off, eyes fluttering shut again. his hips were still rocking against your leg.

you sat up abruptly, taking him offguard, stopping him in his tracks, and effectively swapping your positions; jesse's back was now pressed against the other arm of the couch, and you were now hovering over him. he gasped, grabbing onto your waist to make sure you didn't fall. your knee was still between his thighs (and his between yours), and your hands toyed with the belt loops of his baggy jeans. your eyes pleaded with him, and so did your voice, a gentle 'please?' leaving your lips as your fingers crept closer and closer to his belt buckle.

"fuck. would you...would you ever forgive me if i let you do this?" jesse's face was beet red and his hands kneaded the squishier parts of your hips, as he mulled it over in his head. you were already creeping downwards, crawling down his body so you were nose-to-nose with the prominent tent in his pants. you stuffed your face in his clothed crotch, pretty much nuzzling at his dick through his clothes with big, sparkly eyes.

his eyes were locked so heavily on yours. you thought for a moment that, maybe, you shouldn't do this; jesse was telling you not to...but, you wanted to, and the only reason he was saying 'no' was because he thought you didnt. when you unbuckled his belt and began to tug at his jeans, he gave in, and lifted his hips up to help you out.

"one time. never again."

he whined breathily when he was free of the confines of his underwear, whether it be at the loss of warmth, or at the sight of your nose buried in the curly hair at the base of his dick. you looked breathtaking, after all...it was almost like you were worshipping his cock, trailing soft kisses and kitten-licks up the shaft until you reached the head.

your lips wrapped around the head, and his hand immediately flew to your hair, carding itself through it. you couldn't tell if he was steadying himself, or if he was trying to push you down further, so you went with the safest option and sunk your mouth down as far as you could, until it hit the back of your throat. you pulled off in one fell swoop to catch your breath, and then quickly returned to your previous position.

you set a nice, middled pace, and you felt like it was a steady one. all you knew was that, looking at him through your eyelashes, jesse was completely losing himself. his eyebrows knitted together, his face an incredible token of his pleasure; it would have been like a scene from a movie if it weren't for the filthy, wet gulping sounds coming from your throat.

you pulled off of him again, and jesse let out a breath that you didn't know he was holding. you continuously stroked him, shaft-to-tip, not killing the pace you had set before -- only, now, your face sunk lower, and your tongue licked experimentally at his balls. he loved that. he loved it so much, that it ripped a deep growl-like groan from his throat.

"fuck. i'm gonna fuckin' cum if you keep doing that."

jesse's breathing was shallow, and you could tell he was having trouble keeping his hips from bucking upwards against your face. you took one of his balls into your mouth, gently rolled it around with your tongue as you stroked his shaft, and that's when you heard a near-illegible string of curses from above you, and...felt something land in your hair. you let go of his ballsack with a soft 'pop' and jerked him through his orgasm, jesse's hips finally jolting as his cock twitched.

"fuck. i'm so fuckin' sorry." jesse said through heavy breaths, horrified eyes focused on the sticky cum he shot into your hair. you laughed, softly, laying your head on his bare thigh.

"you can come take a shower with me to make up for it."

"fuck, yeah."

#jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman imagine #jesse pinkman fanfiction #jesse pinkman fanfic #jesse pinkman smut #jesse pinkman

823 notes · View notes

depressopax · 4 months

Text

Being in a relationship with Jesse Pinkman would include...

SFW version only + extra headcanons (Smut version can be found here) Pairing: Jesse x gn!reader Genre: Fluff Warning(s): Breaking bad spoilers! Mentions of alcohol, drugs and injury Mentions of trauma Words: 1336 Summary: What would dating Jesse Pinkman be like? English is not my first language so please let me know if I make any mistakes so I can evolve as a writer! :)

He would just LOVE having you around. All the damn time.

For example: When he throws parties in his house, he’ll have you by his side all the time.

“But Jesse… I need to work!” “Work can wait, babe. I’m having a party!” “But…” “Pleaseeee! It’s not a good party if you’re not around…” “...Fine.”

When he falls in love, he falls hard.

Even if you’ve dated him for a short while, he would express his love for you early on.

He would be very insecure at the beginning of a relationship, so he needs lots of reassurance that he’s doing the right things etc.

He’ll brag about you for everyone, ALL THE TIME.

Jesse: “I’m telling ya! My partner is the best. Skinny Pete and Badger: “...Here we go again.” Walter: “I literally don’t care. We have work to do!”

His love language is touch. Every opportunity he gets, he wants to touch you (with consent ofc) This includes:

- Holding your hand when walking

- When sitting down, he’ll either make sure your legs are touching

- …Or have his hand resting on your thigh.

- He loves having you sit in his lap, so he can cuddle you and rest his face against your neck. It relaxes him.

Jesse doesn’t mind PDA. He likes showing his you off. He often feels like you are “too good for him”, and therefore wants to brag, because he has such a wonderful (and hot) partner.

He tends to get awkward when you call him nicknames or show him affection around his friends, since they tease him for being “a simp”.

You like it tho.

Sometimes you’re extra “lovey-dovey” towards Jesse when his friends are around, just to tease him and watch him blush.

Since Jesse earns lots of money in the meth business, he would buy you expensive gifts.

…And make lots of impulsive purchases.

You try making him stop spending so much money on gifts, but even if he promises to stop, he doesn't…

He LOVES seeing you wearing his clothes. And if you don’t, he would probably ask you to wear his shirts, when sleeping etc. He just enjoys the sight of it, and for him, it’s the most adorable thing.

His phone would be full of selfies of you and him, but mostly pictures of you. He’s the guy to make you his lockscreen.

The two of you have a playful banter. There’s lot of teasing going on, and you have inside jokes (most of them are mocking Walter together)

He likes playing video games with you. This would be the one of the few times he’s rude. He is very competitive and tends to take games a bit too seriously.

If he wins the game, he won’t shut up about it. He’ll tease you for it, until you tell him to shut the hell up

…If he loses, tho… He’ll be a baby about it.

“Impossible! You cheated!” “I’m just better than you, Jesse!” “Yeah, right…” “...Are you mad at me?” “...Maybe”

If you don’t like alcohol and drugs, he would try to not use it in front of you. He would try quitting, but it would be a long journey. He hates seeing you worried for him, and that would be a motivation for him to quit, or at least try.

When cuddling and sleeping - He doesn’t care if he’s the big or little spoon. Whichever you prefer.

Comforting each other.

Whenever you’re sad or angry, Jesse does everything to cheer you up. He tends to get awkward when someone cries, so he doesn’t know how to react. But he always does his best to cheer you up.

He would want to introduce you to his friends. He wants everyone to know how amazing you are.

He also likes the idea of being able to hang out with his friends and his partner at the same time.

But this would also include jealousy and Jesse being overprotective.

He doesn’t like being the possessive boyfriend type, but if one of his friends tries hitting on you, he'd stare them or “playfully” threaten them.

If someone flirts with you when he’s around, he either gets really insecure, or will just simply walk up to you and be affectionate (basically his way of saying: “They’re mine, back off bitch”)

This also includes his work. In dangerous situations, he prioritizes your safety before his own.

…Although you’d probably end up being the one protecting him.

He would probably try keeping the relationship with you a secret, since he’s scared you’ll become a target.

At first, Jesse tried to lie about his career, but him being away for such a long time everyday made you suspicious.

The last thing he wanted was for you to think he was cheating. Afraid of losing you, he decided to tell you the truth.

You were shocked, of course.

…But most of all, you were concerned. Knowing how dangerous his work is, and how he risks going to jail or getting killed, you got very worried for him.

It would probably lead to arguments, since you both are so concerned for one another.

Learning he’s too stubborn to quit, you give up the attempts to convince him.

But he would definitely make promises to you, that he will be careful, and not shut you out.

Jesse wants good communication with his partner, and the two of you would always be honest, and never keep secrets from each other.

In his free-time, he spends a lot of time with you.

If you guys don’t share the same interests, that’s ok with him.

He tries being a supportive boyfriend, and you’re the one to decide where to go and what to do.

This includes small, simple things, such as: Food, movies, music and games.

Even if he’s bored, he’ll try to not show it. (...Although he would fall asleep against you when watching your favourite/”boring” movies)

Date nights include going to loud parties and getting wasted, going to a bar or restaurant etc…

But it can also be “calm” dates - watching movies at home and eating snacks or playing video games.

This man gets beaten up ALOT. He tries hiding it from you (but fails in every way). You are the one that patches him up and cleans his wounds.

At first, he thought it was embarrassing that his partner had to take care of his wounds, but he grew to like it.

Having you tending him feels good.

…And he loves watching your focused face when you clean his wounds and patch him up if needed.

Jesse also enjoys hearing you mutter threats against the person that beat him up.

He may be protective over you, but you’re also very protective over him.

His “enemies” are your enemies.

When moving to Alaska, you would come with him.

He refused at first, since he was scared that something would go wrong.

But it was the opposite. You both got a fresh new start, and under new identities, you guys could finally have a normal life.

He wants to take things slow, but he also wants to marry you one day.

And eventually start a family too, if you want to. He wants to have children with the person he loves, and be able to give them the life he never had.

He would be such a good dad omg

After all the stress and trauma he’s been through, he just wants to “settle down” and live a calm life together with you.

He would also want pets lol

I see him as a dog person, so he would definitely, with or without your liking, buy a dog.

(Going out on long walks at winter with the dog <3)

He has lots of trauma, and has moments where he doubts himself and has breakdowns, but having you around helps him alot.

Of course, you are always there to support him and help him through difficult times.

…Basically: Your relationship would be so pure, dramatic but sweet.

196 notes · View notes

bowieandqueen11 · 9 months

Text

Jesse Pinkman Being Jealous Would Include...

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

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

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

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

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sure as hell saw it now.

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

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

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

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

‘Yeah, I do.’

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

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

#breaking bad #jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman imagine #jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman headcanons #breaking bad imagine #aaron paul #skinny pete #badger #walter white #gus fring #saul goodman #jesse breaking bad #jesse breaking bad imagine #jealousy fic #x reader #breaking bad fanfic #breaking bad fanfiction

163 notes · View notes