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slamminslamminmcgill · 1 year

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can i request nsfw saul goodman x gender neutral reader? I’m thinking the reader is his assistant or something like that. It can be a story or headcanons it’s up to you. Thanks! ❤️

gonna do hcs bc i wanted to make sure to get this done for u 😘

you could have the most impeccable resume in the world or you could have "pwease hire me 🥺" scribbled in crayon on a mcdonald's napkin. if saul thinks you're hot, you're hired.

yes, he's going to try to make moves. yes, they're going to be cringe.

in true slippin' jimmy fashion i see him having a lot of "accidents" on the job to try to get what he wants

"oh noooo im so sorry i spilled coffee all over your brand new shirt! clumsy me :(" *ogles your chest all day*

*bumps into you while he's carrying a comically large stack of papers* "aw man! help me pick these up, will ya? gotta make sure we get these in order." *"accidentally" brushes your ass while reaching behind you*

call him a pervert/dirty old man after he tries something. he's into it.

i can see this becoming a fun dynamic where you'd tease back >:3c wearing VERY risqué outfits to work and always making sure to have one extra button undone, swaying your hips a little extra as you walk. "oopsie i dropped my pen! lemme just stick my entire ass in your face bend over and pick it up 😏"

one day you come in wearing a particularly slutty outfit and sit on his desk to discuss a case. he'd be staring up at your exposed skin for long enough that eventually he'd get fed up with the formalities and shoot you straight.

"look, kid, let's cut the bullshit. are we doing this or not?"

"doing what, mr. goodman? i have nooo idea what you're talking about."

"come on, yes you do," he'd stand up from his desk and put his hands on your hips, "walking in here dressed like that, climbing on my desk and practically giving me a lap dance? that's what we call 'leading the witness', sweetheart."

and then y'all would fuck nasty in his office during breaks 😌

he loves doing it on/at his desk. his absolute favorite is when you're bent over the top of it and he's taking you from behind.

definitely an exhibitionist. his office is soundproof but i bet he'd love to flirt with the idea of getting caught. ESPECIALLY if you're being a brat.

"oh, you wanna act up right now? maybe i should just turn on the intercom and let the good people of albuquerque hear what a whore you really are."

he will ABSOLUTELY tease you under the desk in front of clients because he likes seeing you squirm.

he's either really lovey dovey with aftercare (cuddling, smooching your face, petting your hair, telling you how good you were) or he's immediately back in business mode.

you'd be slumped over drooling on his desk with his cum leaking out of you and he just taps you on the shoulder. "hey, space cadet, when you get back down from orbit, you think you can put your pants back on? we got a line of people waiting outside."

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bowieandqueen11 · 1 year

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You Make Me Happy / Jimmy McGill Imagine

Request: May I request a fluffy/cuddly Saul Goodman x reader. Maybe they’re sitting on the couch eating ice cream out of the tub watching tv or something. I crave domestic fluff with this man.

Honestly this is such a mood I too crave the domestic fluff with Jimmy!! <3 Also this is the perfect time to write this because I am freezing and just gripping my hot water bottle lmao

Also sorry if I read this wrong but I’m basing it on BCS Jimmy/Saul rather than BB! Also sorry I love doing weird character studies of Jimmy so this turned out a little more wistful than I meant it to be I can’t help it bruh this show has me in a tragic chokehold

If you enjoy, please let me know by commenting/ reblogging! Thank you, it really makes the world of difference! <3

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

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

‘Jeez, your feet are freezing.’

Considering how compact Jimmy’s little room behind the nail salon appeared to be, you expected his home to be slightly warmer during the winter season. Yet the cold seems to be sneering at the two of you; a sharp frost seems to be coating your bodies, glazing your skin until you nearly bump heads shivering down to huddle under the shared blanket. The boxy room seems far too enclosing, even in spite of the lack of space: the desk shoved up against the far wall, leaning until Jimmy’s coffee-mug turned pencil pot has nearly tipped onto the floor, seems more like a tomb of splintered second-hand wood than a table. Jimmy doesn’t seem to mind though, as he absently minded puts his take out box down onto the chair that has half its legs up on his side of the bed. You had tried to argue that there was space over in your half of the room if you pushed it against the door, but he wouldn’t hear a word of it. He would forgo any comfort, if he did it for your sake.

He blinked slowly, as if his mind was still unwinding from ‘high pressured failing lawyer mode’ and back down into the regular ‘ol Jimmy Mcgill that had been held in crumbling abeyance. He was still disgruntled from his earlier visit with Chuck, which he had animatedly thrown his tie on the floor and yacked at you about as soon as he had come back in the salon doors. He was tired of this: the constant fighting, the constant spiral back down into the pit, the claw back up into the empyreal light that only ‘Saint Chuck’ could bathe under. Tired, yes. He was tired, and he was distraught, and he was cold, and he was foiled. A failure, a scapegoat, ashamed, a kicking post for life to laugh at, thwarted. As Chuck had reminded him, yet again, as he sat in his armchair in his fancy house with its hollow empty walls and its silence and its lordly righteousness, he would never earn everything he had fought so hard for. Doomed to always and yet never be Jimmy McGill, he seemed so lost in himself.

‘Forget freezing’, you start, nestling down further into his side and rubbing your legs against his until you can feel his hairs rise, ‘I think if I kick them hard enough they might shatter off in shards of ice.’ You smile over at him, distressfully, and wait to see if he can draw himself back out.

He finally seems to realise you’re actually still there - still actually sitting there next to him, looking over at him as if he were a man of any actual importance. As if he weren’t a loser, living on seven hundred bucks a week in the squalid back of a nail salon, with nothing but the empty tones of his dinged desk phone to keep him company most of the night. It was almost enough to make him break down right there and then. Instead he turned to look towards you, his eyes lighting up almost immediately at the sight: the shadows drawing away from eyes and filling them with colour and life and love again.

He guffaws at your statement, but doesn’t protest when you clamber your feet on top of his to try and make them soak up some of your warmth. The crimson red of his toe nails nearly makes you laugh out loud; the thought that tomorrow no one in the court room will be able to tell just how vivacious they are under his grimly shined shoes and bright purple socks. The red was a bold choice, but Jimmy didn’t seem to care. Or perhaps, he cared too much. You had tried to warn him against it, knowing if his brother found out it would hand him another chisel to scratch away at Jimmy’s professionality: but it had been yours, and so, in his mind, it was the best of choices.

He wraps an arm around your waist, winding it uncomfortably back past the slightly askew spring on the side of the sofa bed and rests it gingerly against your waist. He’s still so unsure of himself, no matter how many times you say that it’s true: you really do love him, and want to spend time with him. He still sees himself as a pity case for you, and so he drums his fingers against your pyjama bottoms in the rhythm of some old country song he remembers his dad playing at the shop. It was one he would complain about listening to, sitting huddled up by the crisp shelves and using whatever magazine he had stolen off the magazine rack to shove against his ears, yet he still seemed glazed over, content as he tapped against you.

‘It’s the Irish in me. My dad was the same. You know, he could wear ten jumpers and still pretend as if the temperature was perfectly fine when he was freezing his yams off. Us potato eaters are just used to colder climates-’.

‘Jimmy you can’t play the Irish card every time. You’ve never even set foot in Ireland.’

Before giving him a chance to retort, you take the spoon of ice cream you’ve been nibbling on out from the side of your mouth, dunk it into the open carton resting on your knees, and shove it back against his lips. He snorts, but eagerly licks the mint chocolate chip ice cream off the spoon before letting you pull it away again. As he swallows, he watches the black and white movie that fizzles out from his banjaxed tv set eagerly: wide eyed, lips drawn tight in an almost childlike concentration. He looks almost as if he’s jumped out of it himself; he’s a man so buried in shades of sharp black and mute greys, piling over the vibrancy and glee that radiates out from his almost ingenuous smile. He catches you staring at him from the corner of his eyes, and tries to hide the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. It turns into a real frown, though, when he sees how intently, how sadly you’re surveying his face: roaming over the dark lines that tire his eyes and the forehead crinkles that seem to have been brought on by a burdensome weight. He seems so old despite his youth, so weary and beaten. Yet so soft, so gentle at the same time, as his eyes doe in a concerned confusion and he reaches over to squeeze your shoulder.

‘Doesn’t mean I’m not Irish’, he says quietly, as if afraid to break the silence. ‘Like Old McDonald, you know... ee i ee i oh and all that jazzy crap.’

You laugh, and the sound is like the bells of heaven to his ears. Flinging the spoon back into the tub and throwing the whole thing to the side, he both quickly and blithely reaches up to steady your arms as you turn to stare at him. You let your jaw fall in mock abhorrence, and yet the grin only grows wider and wider over his face as his fingers spread upwards to massage your wrists.

‘That’s MacDonald, dumbass. And I don’t remember him singing about how he was so Irish after every animal like you do.’

He looks almost shocked at your words. He bites on his bottom lip and looks up at the ceiling, clearly distraught at the idea that the nirvana of his childhood memories could somehow, in some way be impaired.

‘Wait... really? Are you sure it’s MacDonald. Because I definitely remember Chuck singing it like Old Mc-’.

‘That’s because you were five, Jimmy. It probably took all your effort to coordinate your limbs enough to clap along, let alone sing it too. Just take the hit on this one, okay?’

The phone rings, and Jimmy nearly jumps out of his skin, and out of his reverie as he lets it ring out harshly through the room, ignoring it for the first time in months. Instead, he coughs hoarsely and swallows the lump in the back of his throat, staring straight ahead at the wall. Finally, he manages to swallow his pride and waggle his eyebrows at you in defeat, sliding further down onto the bed and leaning up on his elbow to lean over you. He purses his lips as you wiggle down to join him, but he has the softest look in his eyes when your thigh comes up to rest between his own. ‘Do you think, one day maybe... we’ll have a conversation that actually makes sense.’

You snort. ‘Not with you about I won’t.’

He collapses down onto his back, clutching his shirt up into a balled fist in one hand, and pressing the back of the other flat against his forehead with an ostentatious ‘awoOH.’ He pretends to whine like a kicked dog, yappering and howling and mewling as he rolls about the bed. You, on the other hand, only try to suppress your giggles at the set of his antics as you rest your arm on the soft squidge of his tummy.

‘Oh, ouch’, he keeps going on, closing his eyes as if he’s in intense pain. ‘That one hurt. Look at that, look at my chest, I’m bleeding!’ He takes your hand and presses the tip of your pointer finger against the thrum of his heart, his hand cradling yours all the while he jammers animatedly at you. ‘You know’, he sighs and lets his head deflate back down onto the cushion, ‘you really kicked my ass with that one.’

You poke him in the bellybutton and enjoy the way his arms seem to spring up in reaction, curling tightly around your waist and tugging your squealing body down on top of him. Although he exhales, you know he doesn’t mind the new weight on top of him: his back still aches from time to time, and his hip joint still creaks in the winter, but he tugs you tight against him as if still pretending to be a spry chicken. His expensive watch: the only object worth any amount of money in this place, and one of the most gaudy of his possessions presses against the curve of your back, but his thumb rubs against your skin as if in apology as you settle yourself on his chest.

‘Your ass is on your chest?’

‘Hey, way to kick a man when he’s down. You know what you should do - oh ho, yeah, you should shut it.’

‘Make me.’

It takes him less than a second to arch his tired back up to kiss you, his lips needy and pliant and familiar against yours the second they touch. Once he’s done pressing his lingering, smushing lips over yours a thousand times (and once more for good luck), he pulls back to cradle your face in glowing content.

‘I promise, I wouldn’t want it any other way. You make me happy.’ You run your fingers down his chin, the dim glare from the rolling credits nearly shrouding the two of you in pervasive darkness. You choose to tip his head up so you can look at him properly, squinting in the lack of light; although you couldn’t tell before, tears have obviously been welling up in his bloodshot eyes, as they’re now splattering a damp grey down onto the dirty sheet.

‘Yeah’, he chokes. He brushes the back of his knuckles over the side of your cheek, shaking against your arms as he smiles. ‘You make me happy too.’

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finsterwalds · 1 month

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Thinking about better call saul if the action took place in france just because I wanted to see them in cunty robes lmao. More thoughts under the cut!

Obviously the action and the whole premise of bcs/brba wouldn't work in france (legal system aside, the whole cartel and walter white storyline would have to suffer major changes due to social security and the mexican cartel well. not existing here stricto sensu). But let's talk about the real Important Stuff : their names

I think Howard Hamlin would work well as Edouard Hamelin. He looses the cool HH initials yes, but it works really well as a genuine french name imo, and Howard/Edouard are pretty close phonetically

Chuck could still be called Charles without any realism issue, but he'd be nicknamed Charlie rather than Chuck because that's what a french person would go for... nicknames don't work the same, yeah

Kimberly Wexler and James McGill, I have no idea lmao. James when translated becomes Jacques, but it's such a boomerish uncool name that I cannot resolve myself to call my boy like that. It's also one generation too old. Jimmy being born in '60 could technically be called Jacques, but it'd be old-fashioned, as it's a name mostly given to the kids of the decade that came before him. McGill is an irish name, so something funny could be making Jimmy a breton with a funky last name like Gall/LeGall ? That's hilarious to me. But who knows.

Saul Goodman is a pun, so this is even harder for me to conceptualize. Saul's marketing would definitely not work in france at all, as no one would realistically hire a lawyer with a puny name and such chaotic displays (+ I think ads for legal démarchage are illegal mind you). However, let's have a crack at it. It would have to be a pun based off an expression similar to "it's all good man", or implying something positive and familiar... I need to think on that one.

#saul goodman #jimmy mcgill #howard hamlin #kim wexler #better call saul #bcs #breaking bad #brba #french au #my art #fanart #please help if you wanna participate to their naming...... im struggling as you can see #what i love about bcs is how deeply american it is but im just imagining this for fun lol. and also for the outfits #cause come on. any profession immediately becomes better with a Special Outfit involved #i should write about the robes too.... i have headcanons about the cast....#so much to say!!!!

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fever-venom · 3 months

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albuquerque if the pistol walter white put under his chin in episode 1 had a round in the chamber

#imagine a world where walter white was found in his little underwear with his brains out in the pilot #brba #breaking bad #walter white #exposure tags #brbabcs #bcs #jesse pinkman #saul goodman #jimmy mcgill #better call saul #gus fring #mike ehrmantraut #breaking bad meme #brba bcs

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twinkle-art · 2 years

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love is a negative space

#better call saul #jimmy mcgill #kim wexler #gus fring #mike ehrmantraut #mcwexler #gusmax #(the intention was matty but you could interpret it as kaylee as well)#fanart #bcs spoilers #when the show is both a love story and a ghost story #the way saul's love haunts the world he built and gus' eclipses everything that remains of himself and mike carries his into the dark #and kim.............. well i imagine she'll hold onto it close

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kimwexlersponytail · 7 months

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I don't see why it's so important to you that we work together. I mean, we're already -- Why do you need me for this? I don't need you. I want you. You've got me.

McWexler in Every Season

SEASON TWO

#bcsedit #better call saul #mcwexler #jimmy x kim #kim wexler #jimmy mcgill #i love every season for them but you guys.... i really love this season for themmm #like this set is a little obnoxious bc i made more gifs i didn't even use bc i just couldn't choose lol #sometimes i wonder how things would've gone if kim gave wexler/mcgill a shot #jimmy was really sitting there doodling logos and he was so crushed when she turned down his little pitch :((((#partners in law and partners in life.....imagine!!!! :((((#mcwes #mine

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saul-gone-man · 4 months

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cuntress and some bisexual dude

#better call saul #bcs #jimmy mcgill #saul goodman #bob odenkirk #breaking bad #brba #bcs fanart #my art #fanart #imagine….au where kim stays #i know she doesn’t #but the evil potential #mcwexler

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froogizweet · 2 years

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¡¡¡Colecciónalos Todos!!!

#better call saul #bcs fanart #bcs #saul goodman #jimmy mcgill #kim wexler #mike ehrmantraut #nacho varga #gus fring #miaojor llamar a saul #imagine a bcs gashapon with the characters as lil cat-caricature figurines #froogizartsies #artists on tumblr #breaking bad #brbra

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joeswackyadventure · 22 days

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@littleboar you genius...... this

#but it took me a long time to try to make myself draw this for some reason #breaking bad #better call saul #brba #bcs #gus fring #mike erhmantraut #mike ehrmantraut #jesse pinkman #saul goodman #jimmy mcgill #sorry for not adding saul's or jesse's leg hairs can't draw em #also had some trouble drawing skirts #would play doki doki literature club once more if gus saul mike and jesse was the characters #everyday i imagine a future where i can be with you

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spghtrbry · 24 days

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a wolf at the door

#im sorry #wtf…jimmy traumacore…#yeah this turned out not how i imagined it in my head but. whatever. i guess.#lyrics are from radioheads a wolf at the door #jimmy mcgill #saul goodman #better call saul #breaking bad

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slamminslamminmcgill · 1 year

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ok but jimmysaul intox 🤤 giving u one of the xans in his desk drawer and going crazy

you

i like you 😌

warning: intox kink

anatomical terms: pussy

You slumped back on the couch and rubbed your forehead. You were exhausted. Most days weren't so bad, but apparently, the entire city of Albuquerque decided to fly off the handle today in particular, and you and Saul were the only ones who could save them. "Jesus, what a day."

Saul chuckled, leaning back in his chair and holding his hands behind his head. "You can say that again, kid. How's about we, uh..." He reached over to open one of the drawers in his desk, "...take the edge off a bit?"

You raised an eyebrow and walked over to the desk. "What'cha got in there?"

"Xanax," he replied, shaking a bottle of prescription pills. "It's an anti-anxiety medication. Helps you relax, y'know? You want some?"

You shrugged. Fuck it, right? It's a Friday night, why not spend the evening doing dubiously legal substances with your boss. "Ah, what the hell, gimme some."

"Heh-hey! Alright! I knew you'd know how to party." Saul unscrewed the lid and poured out two pills. Next, he grabbed a plastic water bottle on his desk. He sauntered over to you on the couch and handed you your dose. He cracked open the water to take his, then passed it to you for you to do the same. He plopped down on the couch beside you, stretching his arm out for you to scoot closer to him. You obliged, your head resting against his chest and his arm wrapping around your shoulder. "Trust me, you're gonna wanna stay seated. They can make you pretty light-headed. I wouldn't want you to collapse on me."

“Okay,” you said, nestling into his body heat, “how long does it take to kick in?”

Saul rubbed your back, admiring how cute you looked snuggled up to him. He couldn’t wait to see how much cuter you’d be while high. “Give it about 5-10 minutes. You’ll see.”

5 minutes passed, and they kicked in.

Then, another 5 minutes passed, and you were bouncing on Saul’s lap, egregiously moaning as he hit home again and again.

The xans were doing their job. You were loopy, dizzy, and it was as if every nerve in your system was on high alert; the slightest touch made you twitch. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a soggy, messy kiss. A mix of your saliva seeped through both your lips and onto each other’s chest. Saul’s firm hands kneaded your ass while your pussy threatened to milk him for everything he had.

You pulled away to get some air, tongue lazily hanging out of your mouth. Words were above your capability right now, but that doesn’t mean you stayed silent. “Oh my Gahhh… ngh… Sa-… Saullll… s-s-so… good…”

Saul just giggled, goofy as you were, and planted a wet kiss on your cheek. “Told you.”

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bowieandqueen11 · 2 years

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Mr. Spooktacular / Jimmy McGill Imagine

Request: GIRLLLL YOU WRITE FOR BETTER CALL SAUL???? IM ABSOLUTELY FOAMING AT THE MOUTH YOU ALWAYS KNOW WHAT'S UP IM DYING!!!! i would like to request something for Halloween with jimmy but idk what, something fluffy up to you! dealers choice! im so excited to see how you write him ♥️♥️

This is such a lovely request and I’ve made it so stupid @offbrand-slasher I’m so sorry I just feel like he’d be the type of guy to love dressing up to answer the door lmao ily!!

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

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

‘Mwahahah, have a spooktacular Halloween! And don’t forget kids, to tell your lovely nanas and bobos where to come for some treats that don’t look like they’ve been shot out from a Chocolate Factory....’

Jimmy’s voice trails out as the kids recede down the outer apartment block stairs, shaking their pumpkin buckets in their hands to try and suss how many sweets they bagged this time; his smile finally drops as the last bit of mummy toilet paper disappears over the pavement, and he rubs his chin contemplatively as he turns and shuts the door, once again, behind him. It takes him a moment to realise he’s managed to wipe off half of the gaudy cream ‘Dracula-esque’ makeup off his chin (as he had sardonically called it when he picked the half-price tube off the drug store shelf on your joint way back from the office that afternoon). When he sees it smeared across his fingers, he whines in exasperation and makes you chortle as he begins to try and wipe it off onto the bin bag looking cape he’s tied across his shoulders.

Pulling his fake teeth out, he points over to where you’re lounging on the couch, half-caught in a stretched yawn by his wagging pointer finger. ‘What, exactly, are you laughing at? I hope it’s not my stunning outfit - this thing cost me nearly twenty bucks, but I think it was worth it.’ He finishes his sad scan over his cheap nylon trousers and fake blood stained frilled shirt with a small smile and ostentatious flick back of his gelled hair. ‘At least it’s got great re-use value: I’ll be able to wear it into HHM next week and still look more sprightly than Howard does.’

You shake your head with as much indignation on Hamlin’s behalf as you can, but Jimmy still smiles and comes shimmying his shoulders towards you. Pressing the palm of your hand to your lips, you try to stop the snorting laugh from busting out as Jimmy drops the near empty candy bowl on the table and kneels down to start dumping freshly opened bags of hard sweets into its depths. Bless his heart, he looks so happy, so childlike and innocent again as he meticulously opens the plastic and grins at the way the sweets fall between his fingers. He’s humming gently to himself, an old country tune his father often used to listen to in the small store shop when Autumn time began to roll around the dusty grounds; when the two of them used to stay late after closing shop to huddle on overturned milk crates in the middle of the shop floor and choose a bag of sweets to share after the Halloween sales were over again for the year. Back in the days when Chuck used to roll up punctiliously after his extra evening classes and be glad to see Jimmy enjoying himself through the store window, sighing sweet relief as he perched down next to his brother and stayed there until the sun would begin to flood over the heads of the golden cornfields and blind his tired eyes.

He blinks back to himself, not realising he had been staring down at his hands for the past thirty seconds, when you gently kick your bare feet against the expanse of his back. He looks behind him, rising up to kneel between your knees and waiting, tenderly and expectantly and as if he had all the time in the world to just gaze and admire you, for you to speak.

‘You know’, you start ‘it wasn’t even the outfit. It was the fact that they were literal nine year olds you were shouting elder law rhetoric at, Jimmy.’ You affectionately run your hand over his greased up hair, and appreciate the way his shoulders shiver as his head leans back to follow your touch.

‘Phhh’, he waves a hand, and quickly uses it to grab your retreating wrist and place it back on top of his head, like a lonely puppy just begging for someone to show him love. You run your finger down the shell of his ear, teasingly pulling at the lobe as he watches you with eyes wide enough to store all the burning love of the universe within, before snaking your hand into his shirt pocket and nicking one of the candy bars he had slotted in there to eat later. He bats his plastic cape behind him with a twisted frown, which soon falls into a pleading pout as he watches you unwrap and take a bite out of his caramel bar.

‘One: trust me, it’s never too early to get legal advice. They’ll be old people too one day! And trust me, Jimmy McGill will be a family brand for years to come - name up in lights kind of thing. Two: I think you’ll find... that was mine.’

‘Too bad, now it belongs to me.’

You take another bite and chew obnoxiously extravagantly, moaning after each swallow and pretending not to notice the way Jimmy’s eyes rove over your face with a flash of irk and clouding adamant awe. He comes scrambling towards you, crawling on his hands and knees until he’s levered himself up onto the sofa beside you. For a while, it’s peaceful: Jimmy lowers your head onto your shoulder, careful to turn his cheek so the makeup is just lingering above your skin. You wrap your arms tightly around his midriff and squeeze, and Jimmy snorts out a deep breath as he settles back to rest against your chest, the heavy weight in his chest flowing out of his body and bustling away to linger in the dark shadows that cut across the corners of the room, just slight out of the edge of his vision. He turns his head back towards the light: towards you, and tries to focus again on the double bill of horror movie that begins to roll to a close on the cable tv.

Yet he can’t help himself. It takes less than ten minutes for his focus to wander, for his mind to claw its way back up to you, and the tilt of his head further up your neck soon follows. Like the soft moonlight dying away under the douse of the raging sun, he peers up at you from behind hooded, love struck eyes and just watches the flickers of black and white dance over your face. Without even batting an eye, you lower the half-eaten chocolate bar to his lips and shove it into his mouth so he can share a bite.

Your reverie is broken by the sharp sound of another trick or treater knocking fervently at the door.

‘Ooh, there’s the next lot to fall victim to my-’, he stops as he jumps out of your arms and spins round to face you, wiping the fake teeth back off the table and shoving them into his mouth. With an exaggerated comical baring of his teeth and raised eyebrows at you, he holds out his arms loosely in front of his chest and pretends to take small tip toe steps towards you. ‘The victims of my sharp wit and dashing legal pricing.’

‘You know, when you walk around like that you look more like a zombie than a vampire.’

He drops his arms, ignoring the sound of bustling, giggling footsteps marching around on the small veranda outside the door, and the constant ringing of the front bell. Scrambling towards you like a rat being bashed at with a brush, he launches: tickling your sides until you’re begging for him to stop.

‘You know, you’ve just lost your cuddling privileges for the night.’

#better call saul #jimmy mcgill #saul goodman #better call saul imagine #jimmy mcgill imagine #saul goodman imagine #jimmy mcgill x reader #saul goodman x reader #halloween #halloween imagine #bob odenkirk #breaking bad #breaking bad imagine #jimmy mcgill fluff #saul goodman fluff #bcs #bcs imagine #better call saul fluff

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fishylipsblubblub · 2 years

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Lalo Salamanca relationship HCs <333

a/n

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

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

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

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

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

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

- he is also really into physical touch

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

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

- essentially he never takes his hands off you in private

- he always wants to remind you he’s there

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

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

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

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

- more than anything, he wants you to be happy

- dont forget, though, he is extremely protective

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

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

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

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

- Lalo would deadasss show up to your professors house

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

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

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

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

- of course he has people watching their every move lmfao

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

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

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

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

- but it was him all along.

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

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

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

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amoebaanecdotes · 2 years

Text

saul goodman x gn reader

cleaning up

saul goodman shows up at your door after being beat up by jesse pinkman (5x11)

—

you awoke to a pounding at your door and a buzz on your phone simultaneously.

first, you check your phone, well, because it’s closer and you see 15 missed calls from saul and a singular text: “i’m outside.”

you checked the time. 2:15 am. if this was a prank it wasn’t a very funny one.

you reluctantly get out of bed and throw on a robe that was tossed on your laundry chair in the corner of your room.

“saul this better be good because-“ you say as you open the door but you stop.

“saul oh my god what happened?” you asked as you usher him inside.

“a client was upset with something they thought i did.” he sounded nasally plus had blood dripping from his nose and forehead.

your first thought was ‘why not a hospital?’ your second thought was ‘it was probably illegal.’

“here, sit down and i’ll get you cleaned up.” you said leaving him on the couch as you went to the bathroom to get your first aid kit and a wet towel to wipe the blood.

“this is the first time i’m using this thing.” you comment as you pull up a chair and open the kit.

“i’m glad it’s on me.” he smiled.

you start by using the wet towel to clean up the excess blood and the cut on his nose and forehead. he winced as the hot towel hurt his nose.

you frowned. “now saul, this is gonna hurt.”

“couldn’t be worse than this pain.” he said as you patted his nose. “no it’s pretty similar.” his eyes scrunched up in pain.

“i’m sorry, i know.” you hushed.

“are you almost done?” he tapped his foot impatiently and bit his finger to help the pain.

you steadied his leg with yours and he relaxed, only a bit.

“just one more round of this stuff, i don’t want it to get infected.” you spoke softly as you poured some saline solution to clean the wound bed. “this shouldn’t hurt as much.”

he relaxed as he realized the pain really wasn’t as bad.

“okay, now a clean cloth to dry it so the bandaid will stick.” you smile and find the appropriate supplies from the kit.

“little bandaid on the forehead and a little bit bigger bandaid on the nose.” you applied each one. “all done.”

he smiled lightly, not too much. didn’t want to hurt himself.

“thank you.” he spoke softly, like he wasn’t trying to disturb you.

“of course. i wish you wouldn’t get yourself into these situations, but when you do, i’ll always be here to clean them up.” you smiled and kissed his cheek.

“i love you.” he held your hand.

with your other hand, you pinched your nose to imitate his sound. “i love you too.”

“you’re mean for that.” he let go of your hand and shook his head.

“I know.” you smiled and kissed his forehead, where it wasn’t injured, of course.

#saul goodman x reader #saul goodman x y/n #saul goodman imagine #saul goodman #jimmy mcgill #better call saul #breaking bad #fanfic #jesse pinkman #breaking bad x reader #breaking bad imagine

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