22+ | NAY/Salesmans | [ENG/BIH/FIN]

Hello, I'm Nay, but I don't mind being called salesman, as well, you're allowed to use any pronouns for me. I'm a 22 year old, and I speak 3 languages, currently learning 🇨🇳.

I'm still upstanding this masterlist; I'll possibly change it into categories later on. Until then, these are some fandoms I've written for.

Salesman as a gaurd X FEM!Reader Part 1.

Salesman as a gaurd X FEM!Reader Part 2

HEADCANNONS: Salesman as a gaurd

HEADCANNONS DATING (Squid game boys edition)

Will you watch me die? (characters reaction on reader dying)

Dear stranger Salesman x OrphanFEM!Reader Part 1

Dear stranger Salesman x OrphanFEM!Reader Part 2.

Goodbye yeonin Semi x FEM!Reader

One day, three autumns Thanos x FEM!Reader

Squid game characters x INJURED!Reader

WIRES (ONESHOT) Hwang In-ho x FEMReader

Squid game characters x Reader (Reaction to their s/o death)

Heartworm (ONESHOT) Husband!Inho Hwang/Frontman x Wife!Reader

THE GLORY dating headcannon (boys Edition)

The Glory nicknames Headcanon

Husband!Ha Do-yeong x Wife!Reader

Morning dove (ONESHOT) Husband!Ha Do-yeong x Wife!Reader

No more last time (ONESHOT) Husband! Ha Do-yeong x Retired! kpopstar reader

MY NAME breakup HCs

Rien n'est eternel Choi Mujin x FEM!Reader

My dearest Husband! Choi Mujin x Wife! Reader

My name x SICK!Reader HC

Choi Mujin x Reader HC (Angry)

Husband!Choi Mujin x Wife!Reader Vacation time ⊹ ࣪

• Choi han kyul x Worker!GN!Reader (How is it like dating him?)

Hannibal lecture x patient!Reader

Miss you darling (ONESHOT) Hannibal lecture x FEMReader

The son x Reader (HEADCANNONS)

BCS relationships Hcs(How would the characters be in a relationship)

Wolfsbane (Possibly short series) Gus fring x NewEmploy!Reader

I love you more then you love me (ONESHOT) Tuco Salamanca x Reader

🌦️BB/BCS (Fluff/Angst) Hcs

Gus fring x NewEmploy!Reader

✦ PREVIOUS PART >> 1, 2

Summery: After weeks of searching, you finally land an interview at Los Pollos Hermanos, You’ve heard plenty of rumors about how tough it is to get hired there, and now you’re about to face your first interview, unsure if you’ll make the cut.

ⓘ Tags: Reader being stalked, hints of insecurity and jealousy, cold/aloof behavior from Gus, paranoid Reader, emotional angst between reader and Gus, Gus being patient with reader (If I missed any tags let me know, please and thank you)

MASTERLIST | 🪻 DIVIDER

A moment later, he stepped away from the back and made his way toward you.

When he reached the counter, he stopped,you tried to look busy anything to avoid his gaze.

It didn’t work.

You had no reason to feel worried, at least, that’s what you told yourself, it wasn’t your fault the two men spoke Spanish. You weren’t trained for that. You weren’t expected to understand, right?

Still

your heart wouldn’t slow down, each step he took felt louder than it should have, you turned away quickly, grabbing a cloth and focusing on the soda machine wiping it down harder than necessary, like that alone could steady your hands.

The footsteps stopped, right beside you and then he kept walking.

Just past you, like you weren’t even there,

you turned slowly, already bracing yourself

expecting him to scold you, or worse fire you,

he had more than enough reasons to, but instead he walked right past you.

You tried not to stare.

Just small glances, subtle enough that no one would notice, as usual, he stopped near one of your coworkers, speaking to them in that same calm, polite, composed tone

That smile, like it's everyday.

Then, just as easily, he excused himself and made his way toward his office.

Was he… ignoring you?

Your grip tightened around the cloth as you scrubbed the soda machine again, slower this time, maybe you were overthinking it?, maybe you read the situation wrong?

Maybe it wasn’t about you at all.

You set the cloth down with a quiet sigh and glanced over your shoulder again.

Your coworker was already back to helping customers, smiling, chatting like everything was normal.

If you were like them, and have his approval.

For the past few days, you’d done everything you could to prove yourself, customers needed help? You were already there, backup in the kitchen? You didn’t hesitate.

Anything, everything you handled it, you told yourself it would be enough, that eventually, he would notice, that maybe, after everything that happened… things would go back to normal.

But they didn’t.

nothing.

A cold shoulder, like you weren’t even there, maybe it just needed time.

That’s what you kept telling yourself, anyway.

So you worked.

Coming home was the worst part of the day,

funny, in a way, you’d never liked working much before but now, you got used to it, now it was the only thing keeping your mind occupied.

The moment you stepped inside, the silence hit you.

Heavy.

You dropped onto the couch with a tired sigh, your whole body aching, your eyes drifted around the room, still messy.

When was the last time you cleaned? with another sigh, you pushed yourself up.

One thing at a time, you cleared the table first stacking papers, tossing out what you didn’t need, shifting things into place.

It took you an hour maybe more, but when you were done, everything looked right, too right...

You stood there for a moment, frowning slightly.

It felt… off.

This wasn’t like you, and somehow, that bothered you more than the mess ever did.

For the past few days, it had always been the same you came to work, did your job, and went home.

It was getting to the point where you wondered if you’d ever get so much as a glance from him.

By now you were used to it.

One day, as you walked back home, the street was loud, people talking, cars passing by, you weren’t paying attention to any of it.

Somewhere behind you, an engine idled a little longer than it should have, you barely registered it, probably just an old car, you thought, brushing it off.

You stopped by a nearby store, deciding to grab a few things and leave quickly.

You moved through the aisles without much thought, grabbing what you needed. In the next aisle over, a man stood across you, appearing to look over the shelves.

You didn’t pay him much attention just another customer, still there was a brief moment where his gaze flicked toward you, you brushed it off before walking up to the cashier, you noticed she was already helping an elderly woman, carefully bagging her groceries.

"Thank you, dear" the woman said warmly before leaving.

You stepped forward as the next in line, setting your items down on the counter, the cashier scanned them quickly.

"That’ll be 8.30$ Anything else today?"

"No, that’s all" you replied, handing over the money.

"Alrighty! Have a good evening."

You nodded, offering a small smile before gathering your things, slipping the drinks into your bag, the bell above the door chimed softly as you stepped back outside.

You glanced both ways before starting toward home, it only took a few minutes before you heard it again.

The same engine.

You hadn’t noticed it at first not with other cars passing by but now that the street had thinned out, it stood out more.

You slowed down walking.

Out of curiosity, you started to turn just to check, just to be sure.

Your phone rang.

The sudden sound made you pause, you reached into your bag, pulling it out and glancing at the screen.

Mom.

"Hey" you said, pressing the phone to your ear.

"There you are!" your mom’s voice came through, bright and full of energy. "I was just thinking about you, how was work? Did everything go okay?"

You shifted your bag on your shoulder. "Yeah… it went great, mom" trying sound cheerful enough, as you try to take a glance behind you.

"Oh I’m so glad to hear that!” she said.

"And when are you coming over, hm? You could definitely use some real healthy food for once"

"Thanks, mom I’ll probably come by this weekend I might have to see" you said, rubbing your shoulder as you kept walking. "How are you though?"

"I’m wonderful today! Mrs. Henderson came by oh, she’s such a sweetheart, bless her heart. She brought jams! One of your favorites!"

You kept glancing over your shoulder, trying to spot the car while keeping up with the conversation. Across the street, you noticed another store.

"Oh, really?" you said, keeping your voice casual.

"Mhm! Raspberries remember when you were little and your little mouth was all covered in raspberries?" she laughed over the phone before she continued "You never liked cl-"

You cut her off. "Hey, I’ve got to go I’ll call you once I get back home, okay?"

"Alright, walk safe, head on the road" she said cheerfully. You hung up and tucked your phone back into your bag.

Walking toward the store, you didn’t really need anything you just wanted to see if the car would still be there or pass by, the cashier’s counter gave you the best view outside, so you moved toward it, eyes scanning the street.

"Good evening! How can I help you?" the cashier asked, your gaze stayed on the window you barely heard her.

"Hello?" she repeated, snapping you back, you blinked, realizing you’d been staring too long,

nervously, you looked around and spotted the gum display.

"Uh… two gums" you said. She nodded and scanned them.

"Anything else?" she added.

"No, that’s all. Thank you"

"Have a wonderful evening!" she said cheerfully.

You stepped outside again, eyes on the street. Not a single car in sight. The street was empty, quiet.

It made you hurry back home,If anyone had seen you constantly glancing over your shoulder, they would have assumed you were insane. But finally, you made it.

You slammed the door behind you, then slid down to the floor, letting your back rest against it. Your body ached, and your mind raced.

You weren’t sure if you were overthinking it but it didn’t make any sense, the same car had followed you down the same streets you always walked… and then, just like that, it was gone.

Gone.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. You kept glancing out the window, scanning the street, the quiet houses, the empty road. Everything seemed normal.

So why worry? still, your mind wouldn’t let it go.

The next morning didn’t feel any better. You were so exhausted that the only sleep you’d managed was a twenty minute nap before the alarm blared.

You tried washing your face, hoping it would freshen you up, maybe even wake you for work but it didn’t help.

At least you didn’t see the same car outside. That small relief settled in your chest, easing the weight just a little. As you were cleaning the table where someone had finished their food, barely thinking about anything, stealing a few glances here and there without real focus.

Everything else felt the same. Coworkers serving customers, people chatting while they ate and drank, the usual hum of the restaurant. You tossed a used plate into the trash and walked behind the counter to finish up your work.

Your head felt hazy from lack of sleep, every movement sluggish, every thought heavy. Focusing was almost impossible.

You didn’t even notice someone was behind you. It wasn’t until a voice broke the haze.

The voice was calm, precise, and it made your heart skip a beat. "Good morning" it said. You turned slowly, and there he was Gustavo.

"Good morning, Mr. Fring" you replied, keeping your voice steady, trying not to let the weariness show.

This was the first time he had ever spoken to you after weeks or maybe longer. It felt unreal, hearing him break the silence.

He gave a small nod, his gaze settling on you with quiet precision, with a polite smile on his face as usual.

"Is everything in order here?" he asked, glancing at what you were doing. You returned a quick glance to your work, before looking at him again.

"Uh, yes… I’d say it is" you added, keeping your voice steady, careful not to sound nervous.

"Very well" he added after a brief pause, he added, "If you encounter any issue, do not hesitate to inform me. And… take a moment to rest when you can."

"You need it."

it took you some second but you nodded, he gave a small, approving nod, before walking away.

The rest of the day blurred by faster than you expected. You were exhausted, slipping in short breaks whenever you could, just to keep yourself going.

Every now and then, your attention drifted. You’d catch yourself watching Gus from across the room as he spoke with others. Careful, always careful not to make it obvious.

Before you knew it, your shift was over. The thought of walking home felt unbearable in the state you were in.

In the employee changing room, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone. A taxi sounded like the better option and within seconds, you had one on the way.

You’d already said your goodbyes, but as you passed Gus’s office, you slowed down. For a moment, you considered stepping inside. Saying something.

But what would you even say? you let the thought go and kept walking.

Outside, you waited in the parking lot, your mind stuck on earlier. The way he spoke to you… it lingered. Unexpected. 'You need it.'

The taxi pulled in not long after. Before getting inside, you glanced back at the Los Pollos Hermanos sign, glowing against the daylight.

"Where to?" Taxie driver spoke, from front.

"402 Maple St NE" you added.

He nodded, and the car rolled forward. You turned your attention to the window, watching the streets pass by.

It was still bright out, everything clearly visible but your thoughts kept pulling you inward. Today felt different. Almost like your first day again.

That same look from him. That same quiet warmth.

Why can’t it always be like that?

…or maybe it can.

By the time you arrived, the ride felt longer than it should have. You paid the driver, stepped out, and watched him disappear down the street before reaching for your keys.

That’s when you noticed it.

There were usually four cars parked nearby hardly anyone lived on this street.

Now there were five.

One stood out immediately. You didn’t recognize it.

You frowned for a moment, then shook it off. You weren’t going to overthink something small again.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside and shut it behind you. That night, the thought of the car never crossed your mind again.

The morning was quiet, nothing out of the ordinary. You got up, went through your usual routine, and walked to work. When you arrived, only five employees were on shift your group for the morning.

Gus was nowhere to be seen. That meant he had delegated management to someone else, at least for now.

You dove into your tasks wiping down tables, mopping floors, taking out the trash. By 8:30, the first customers would start rolling in, and you wanted everything ready.

Sure enough, a few customers walked in. You stepped behind the counter.

"Good morning! Welcome to Los Pollos Hermanos. How can I help you today?" you asked, your tone polite and practiced.

The man hesitated for a moment. "Uh… just a Diet Coke, to go."

You nodded, grabbed a cup, filled it, and handed it to him. "Here you go. Enjoy your day!"

By 9:00, the restaurant was filling up as usual. Your coworkers were busy helping customers while some stayed in the kitchen. You peeked out the window and noticed Gus's car parked outside. He had finally arrived.

You tried not to stare as he walked in, his usual polite smile in place. He greeted everyone and made his way past you to his office. A few minutes later, he emerged in his work uniform and started a brief conversation with the manager. You couldn’t hear what they were saying over the chatter of customers, but you kept a watchful eye.

By the time their conversation ended, a wave of fatigue hit you. The day dragged on, filled with repeated greetings, orders, and polite small talk.

You let out a long sigh just as one of your coworkers cleaning the soda machine, glanced your way.

"Hey, you doing okay?"

You shrugged. "Yeah… just repeating the same thing over and over is starting to make me feel a little loopy."

"Oh do tell me about it, if I hear another fried chicken, might actually turn one, as matter of fact I am one, at this point" he chuckled.

You laughed, shaking your head. "At least you’d be a very well seasoned chicken."

He grinned. "Hey, someone’s gotta keep the quality high going"

Just then, another customer approached the counter, breaking your little moment of respite. You straightened up, slipping back into your polite, practiced tone.

As you finished handing off the customer’s order, your coworker leaned toward you, clearly about to say something but the moment he noticed Gus walking toward you, he snapped back to work, silently abandoning whatever comment he had planned.

"How’s everything going?" Gus asked, his voice calm, precise, and polite. You hadn’t noticed him at first, so you jumped slightly, then turned to face him.

"Oh, Mr. Fring good morning" before answering

"Uh… everything’s going well" you said quickly, forcing your tone to stay steady. "The morning rush is… busy, but manageable, as usual"

Gus’s gaze held yours for a moment.

"Excellent" before adding "Would you mind assisting in the kitchen for a while? I’m sure Eren can manage the counter in your place, while you're gone." Gus said, his tone even, composed, and quietly commanding.

You nodded. "Of course" you said, keeping your voice steady.

Gus gave a small, measured nod in return, his expression calm.

You stepped toward the kitchen, already filled with the smell of fried chicken and the constant aroma of fried food. You walked over to a table, grabbing a pair of gloves and sliding them on.

You weren’t sure why he needed one more worker in the kitchen when there were already two, but you never questioned it. Instead, you focused on the work, moving efficiently, keeping busy for the rest of your shift.

When your shift finally ended, it was time to change out of your uniform and head home. Just as you were about to walk toward the employee changing room, a voice stopped you no one else’s, only Gus’s.

You turned around, your heart skipping a beat slightly, and saw him approaching.

"Before you leave" he said, his tone quiet and precise, "I would like a word."

You nodded slowly, trying to keep your voice steady. "Of course" you said.

"Do you mind if we talk this through in my office?" Gustavo said, his voice calm, made you instantly nervous. You knew deep down that being asked asked to go to office, is never a good sign, especially how he was acting with your before.

You nodded slowly.

He gave a small, measured nod and started walking toward his office. You followed, every step careful, your mind racing with possibilities.

Once inside, Gus closed the door gently behind you. He didn’t sit immediately instead, he stood, hands folded in front of him, calm and composed as always. His gaze met yours.

"Please, have a seat" he said, gesturing toward the chair across from his desk. You stood where you were exacly, not moving an inch.

He finally sat down, still silent for a moment gazing at you.

You let your thoughts slip out before you could stop them. "Have I done something wrong?" Your voice was quiet, almost a whisper, as you stood there, eyes fixed on him.

Gus kept his gaze steady, unreadable, not talking just listening.

"I mean… I’ve been working haven’t I? I’ve followed everything everything you asked me to" Your words rushed out in a nervous flood, each one faster than the last.

Was he being… all nice because he wanted to fire you? Or was this some chance to prove yourself and you had failed? The possibilities twisted in your mind, each one worse than the last.

"Was it because of the previous time that happened… with a customer?" you asked, your voice quivering.

Gus remained silent, his gaze steady and unreadable.

"Am I doing something wrong? I just don’t understand… is there something I’m missing?" you added, the panic creeping into your words. "I come here every day at the same time, work every day, and go home… have I done something that I’m not aware of?" Your tone was slipping, desperation creeping in.

"Please, sit" Gustavo finally said, his calm, precise voice cutting through the tension.

"No!" you snapped before thinking, the words tumbling out faster than you could control. Gus’s expression shifted slightly.

“You want to fire me, And talk all nice to me and give me a slap in the face with it" you paused maybe you said it too much without thinking..

"That is not the reason I requested your presence here." he said, quiet, precise.

"Now, take a seat, and let’s have a talk"

You kept your gaze on him as you walked toward the chair, your legs feeling slightly unsteady. Lowering yourself into it, your hands twisted nervously in your lap. A heavy silence filled the office.

"I want to clarify." Gus began, his voice soft but precise "I did not call you here to fire you. There seems to have been a misunderstanding between us."

Your chest still felt tight, and your thoughts spun faster than your pulse.

"And I want to clear that up." he continued.

"I sincerely apologize, Mr. Fring, for my previous remarks." you admitted, voice low and slightly trembling. "That was… very unprofessional of me. just don’t understand… some things." You let the last words fall almost to a whisper.

"Then" Gus said, leaning forward slightly, his tone measured "Let's discuss these matters you mentioned. Could you clarify what you find confusing?"

Both of you sat in silence for few minutes.

Oh man, that actually sounds good! I kind of want to use that idea for Wolfsbane, but considering how the timeline is going to play out, it wouldn't be fitting for reader, unless I change few things.

But I could've written a different story where the reader works for Gus, possibly as a replacement for Victor. I kinda want them to have a dynamic similar to Mike & Gus, both relying on each other

Gustavo Fring x NewEmploy Reader Wolfsbane (3)

Gustavo Fring X StrugglingParent!Reader HCs

Lalo Salamanca x Lawyer Reader

Tuco Salamanca x Forced Alliance!Reader

Gustavo Fring X Chemist Reader

Lalo Salamanca x Secret Relationship Reader

Lalo Salamanca x Reader

Summery: After being detained by police, Lalo got the chance to make a phone call and decided to reach out to you, even though you had no idea he was behind bars.

A/N: I'm still working on Wolfsbane 2, Gus x Reader. It might take some time since I haven't started writing it yet, although I do have planned out how it is supposed to go. Also, another thing, if it wasn't obvious by now, it's an AU where Gus didn't die. I can't say there's going to be a happy ending for the both of them, but still.

MASTERLIST | ⛓️ DIVIDER USE

The police dragged Lalo into the main room. One of the officers shoved a phone toward him.

"You may place one call, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

"Understandable?" Police officer added.

Lalo rolled his shoulders like the cuffs were nothing more than a mild inconvenience. The officers stood a few feet away, talking quietly among themselves but keeping their eyes on him.

He stepped up to the phone, turning slightly so his face wasn’t fully visible to them. Slowly, he dialed a number from memory.

The phone rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

"Hello?" you said on the other end, confused. You didn’t recognize the number. "Who is this?"

A grin spread across Lalo’s face.

"Ayyy, cariño" he said smoothly, voice warm like nothing in the world was wrong

You froze.

"…Lalo?"

"Of course it’s me" He leaned casually against the wall, lowering his voice. "You sound surprised. You miss me already?" he laughed like it's a joke only for himself.

he said smoothly. "Anway what are you doing, hm?"

You frowned slightly. "I was just at home… why are you calling from a different number?"

Lalo leaned against the wall, lowering his voice just a little.

"Oh, you know. borrowed phone" he said lightly. "Mine’s… unavailable right now, you know how it can be"

One of the officers glanced over. Lalo flashed him an easy smile before turning slightly away again.

"I guess so?.."

In the background, a faint clink of metal sounded when he shifted his hands.

"Wait" you said slowly. "Where are you right now?"

Lalo glanced at the officers again, grin still on his face.

"Just handling some business" he said smoothly. "Nothing you gotta worry your head about"

You accepted that answer, though it still felt a little strange.

"So you called me to ask me what I'm doing? is that why you called" you asked.

"Whats wrong with that? am I not allowed to call you and hear you now, me estás doliendo el corazón" (you're hurting my heart) he said, while trying to crack a joke.

The officer tapped his watch again.

Three minutes.

Lalo’s smile didn’t fade.

"So tell me something" he said softly. "Everything good over there?"

"Yeah… why wouldn’t it be?"

"Just checking."

You laughed quietly. "You’re being weird today."

"Am I?" he said with an amused tone.

"Yeah. calling out of nowhere, asking how I'm doing"

There was a short pause.

Then Lalo spoke again, softer this time. "Humor me."

Lalo shifted the receiver slightly, lowering his voice.

"Listen, mi amor" he said gently. "I might be a little late tonight."

You frowned slightly. "Late? How late?"

He smiled to himself, glancing briefly at the officers nearby, giving dead look, before turning away.

"Ahh, you know how it is. Things come up" he said smoothly. "Don’t wait up for me, okay?"

There was a small pause on the line.

"Just get yourself comfortable, maybe put on one of those shows you like" he continued warmly. "Then go to sleep."

"…You sure everything’s fine?" you asked.

"Of course" Lalo replied instantly, the charm clear in his voice. "I just didn’t want you staying up worrying about me."

Lalo’s smile didn’t falter.

"Sleep well, cariño" he added softly. "I’ll see you very soon, okay?"

"Okay" you added, he smiled to himself before his smile disappeared when phone like clicked.

Lalo slowly lowered the receiver back onto the hook, the plastic settling with a quiet tap.

For a moment he just stood there, staring at the phone.

The officer nearby cleared his throat.

"Call’s over."

Lalo finally turned, that same relaxed smile still resting on his face like nothing in the world had changed.

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

The cuffs shifted when he rolled his shoulders again. Metal scraped softly against metal.

Still annoying, but manageable, his mind wasn’t on the cuffs, it was on the call, on your voice.

On the small pause you made when you asked where he was.

Lalo almost laughed under his breath.

He let the officer guide him away from the phone, walking easily like he was being escorted to dinner instead of a holding cell.

One day had passed.

You had expected him to show up that same night at least call, at least give some kind of explanation for disappearing like that.

But nothing came.

You tried calling the number again, once, twice It didn’t even ring. Just dead silence.

You were in the living room now, folding clothes with the TV humming in the background. Some random show played that you used to watch.

Every now and then, your eyes flicked up to the screen… then back down again.

Your mind kept drifting.

Back to the call, to his voice, to that pause when you asked where he was.

The unexpected knock came late.

For a second, you just stood there in the middle of the room, your heart kicking a little faster for no reason you could fully explain.

Then it came again, two short knocks.

You moved quickly this time, crossing the room and unlocking the door without even thinking twice.

And there he was.

Like nothing was wrong.

That same easy smile spread across his face the second he saw you.

"Missed me?" he said warmly, eyes lighting up.

"Lalo-"

You didn’t even finish before stepping forward and pulling him into a quick hug, he held you tighter than usual.

You pulled away slightly, frowning.

"Where were you?" you asked, searching his face. "You just disappeared. And that call-"

"Ah, ah, ah" he cut in smoothly, lifting a hand like it was nothing. "Too many questions already? I just got here."

His tone was light, teasing but his eyes flicked past you, already scanning the apartment.

He looked back at you instantly, smile returning like a switch flipped.

"Cariño" he said gently, brushing his thumb along your cheek like he was calming you down. "Relax"

Something in your chest loosened automatically, he always did that.

"Everything’s fine" he added, you wanted to ask so many things, but he seemed so calm about it.

Then, casually

"Hey" he leans into you "Do me a favor, yeah?"

You turned, still a little thrown off. "What?"

He glanced around once more, slower this time, more thorough.

Then back at you.

"Pack a bag."

You blinked. "…What?"

"A bag" he repeated, like it was obvious. "Clothes, essentials. Not too much." a small grin tugged at his lips.

"We’re taking a trip."

You stared at him, completely caught off guard.

"A trip?" you echoed. "Right now?"

"Mm" he nodded, already walking further inside, picking up something off the table and setting it back down

"Lalo, it’s late"

"All the better" he said smoothly.

You crossed your arms slightly. "You disappear for a day, call me acting weird, and now you show up and tell me to pack like we’re going on vacation?"

There it was, that look.

He stepped closer.

tilting his head just enough to catch your eyes. “You trust me, don’t you?” he said quietly.

Your stomach flipped, and you knew he knew it.

" …Yeah" you said, softer now.

His smile deepened just a little.

"Good" he murmured.

His hand slid to your arm, gentle but firm enough to guide you slightly toward the bedroom.

"I'll help you out, it's a simple trip we would be back before you know it" you hesitated.

"…Where are we going exacly?"

A small chuckle left him, he leaned in just slightly, voice dropping like he was letting you in on a secret.

"México."

Your brows pulled together. "Mexico? Why?" you paused

He paused as well, before turning back to face you.

"Ayyy" he said softly, almost under his breath, shaking his head a little. "You worry too much."

He stepped closer, hands settling lightly on your arms, grounding you in place.

"It’s just a trip" he continued smoothly. "Hmm? Little time away. Just you and me."

You were still watching him, unsure.

"And…" he added, like it had just occurred to him, "there are some people I want you to meet."

Your expression shifted. "People?"

"Mm" he hummed, relaxed. "My people."

"Family" he clarified, though the word felt… flexible coming from him. "People I trust."

Your brows knit together slightly. "You’ve never mentioned them before."

A soft chuckle left him.

"Yeah, well" he shrugged lightly, "I don’t mention a lot of things."

"You’ll like it there" he continued. "Big place, open air… not like this."

His eyes flicked briefly around the apartment before settling back on you.

"Safer, too." you didn't say anything

"Good food, good company" he went on, voice warm. "You’ll see"

He put his hand on your arm "Just go pack, okay?" you paused for few minutes before nodding making your way to bedroom.

The second you were out of sight, the smile dropped.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone with a smooth, practiced motion. He turned slightly away from the hallway, lowering his voice as he brought it to his ear.

"Sí" he said quietly. "Ya voy en camino… pero escucha."

A pause, his gaze flicked toward the bedroom door, the conversation lasted for a few minutes before he hung up.

that easy smile slipped right back into place.

By the time you stepped out of the bedroom with your bags, he looked exactly how he was relaxed.

He glanced at the bag, then back at you, approving.

"Excelente" he said lightly. "See? That wasn’t so hard."

He reached for your bag before you could protest, taking it from your hand with ease.

"C’mon" he added, nodding toward the door.

"Let’s go, cariño."

Characters: Gustavo Fring, Tuco Salamanca, Victor, Krazy-8/Domingo

A/N: Requests are open ,for any other characters or from my masterlist fandoms 📬

MASTERLIST | © DIVIDER CREDIT

✶ Gustavo Fring

☀️ Fluff HCs

Most of your time together is peaceful silence, while soft classical music playing in the background.

Gus rarely says "I love you." instead, it’s things like:

"I ensured everything was taken care of."

"You should rest. I will handle it."

Prefers private dinners rather than public ones, he cooks or orders food very carefully plated presentation matters to him.

He may not say romantic things often, but he shows affection through actions.

How he treats you? he treats you with immense respect, things he would do: always listens when you speak never interrupts you, makes sure you feel included in conversations, takes your advices or suggestions with anything related.

Gus isn’t very physically affectionate in public. but privately, he likes holding your hand, resting his hand on your back, standing close to you. Rarely he’ll pull you into a quiet hug when no one else is around.

He isn’t good with overly emotional situations, but he tries in his own way. he quietly sits beside you, hands you a drink or food, listens without interrupting.

When you’re with Gus, you are very protected, even if you don’t realize it, he has people keeping an eye on places you go.

Maybe you casually mention wanting to learn how to dance someday, gus remembers it immediately, a few days later he calmly says "If you would like, I could teach you" Offering you hand

If you’re restless or can’t sleep he notices almost immediately, he’ll ask softly, "Is something troubling you?" Sometimes he’ll just sit beside you until you relax, or you want to talk about it.

If you leave something slightly out of place, Gus quietly straightens it when he passes by, He doesn’t do it to criticize you it's just how his brain works.

Sometimes before bed he’ll quietly check things twice.

If you ask why, he might simply say "I prefer certainty."

If it wasn't obvious by now, he's very protective of your relationship status with him, If someone brings up your name or role or anything related to you, he subtly redirects the conversation. Sometimes he’ll simply stare for a moment, then give a neutral answer that leaves the other person confused.

He remembers your favorite perfumes, coffees, or soaps. Sometimes he’ll wear one that reminds him of you.

🌩️ Angst

Rarely, when he thinks no one is watching, you catch him in moments of private vulnerability a sigh, or hands shaking slightly as he makes a difficult decision.

His barbed comments hit in ways shouting never could. He’ll say something like "I expected more from you." if he's really disappointed at you.

His anger often stems from feeling betrayed or hurt. Maybe you broke a promise, acted recklessly, or lied. When he’s mad, it’s not just authority it’s that he trusted you. And he hates that that trust was damaged.

Gustavo hates mistakes. When angry, he becomes even more rigid, emphasizing protocols and standards that feel suffocating. You try to explain, but he interrupts politely yet firmly, making it clear that your reasoning doesn’t excuse the error.

If you try to apologize, he may respond with a single, clipped nod or worse, he ignores it entirely. The silence is a punishment: it forces you to sit with your guilt and fear, wondering if the trust you thought you had is irreparably damaged.

Betrayal in Gustavo’s eyes isn’t just a mistake it’s a wound to his pride and his carefully maintained world.

If you decide to get involved in something that you weren't supposed to, without his permission he would be furious. "You acted without consulting me. Do you understand the danger in that?" Beneath the anger, there’s worry.

He may care more than he admits, but that care is trapped beneath layers of pride and control. Every time you see him glance your way, it’s fleeting and cold but your heart knows that underneath, he’s struggling.

✦ Tuco Salamanca

☀️ Fluff HCs

Tuco loves teasing you, but it’s always affectionate. He might snatch your snack just to make you chase him, grinning the whole time, and then hand it back with a wink.

When he’s in a rare calm mood, he’s surprisingly clingy. He’ll drape an arm over your shoulder while watching TV.

He has this habit of sneaking kisses on your forehead or cheek when you least expect it.

You argue over something silly like what to watch but he ends up laughing mid-argument, dragging you into a bear hug until you’re both giggling and out of breath.

He doesn’t hold back in public, either. Hugging you tightly, whispering things to you, or planting a noisy kiss on your cheek. People stare, but he doesn’t care he just wants you to feel loved.

If it wasn't obvious by now, he would proudly talk about you or show you off to everyone, especially to other Salamanca. it's a way of him showing he's serious with you.

Tuco is not a morning person. But if you wake up before him, he’ll grunt and mutter until he sees you, and then suddenly he’s all smiles, insisting you stay in bed a little longer together.

Even when he gets frustrated or angry, he softens quickly if he sees you upset. He’ll apologize awkwardly.

Tuco sometimes mimics your expressions or gestures in a playful way just to make you laugh.

🌩️ Angst

His apologies are intense and messy, after one of his outbursts, Tuco might come back hours later, he’ll be calmer, almost sheepish, he’ll shove money, gifts, or food at you like it fixes everything.

When he’s high, everything gets worse, on drugs Tuco becomes unpredictable, his emotions turn up to 100

sometimes he gets clingy pulling you onto his lap, talking nonstop, laughing too loud, other times he gets suspicious.

"Why you lookin’ at him like that?"

"Who were you texting?"

"You think I’m stupid?"

The moment you say you're scared of him, it eventually slips out during a fight, you didn’t mean to say it, the words hit harder than any insult, but hearing you say you’re afraid of him? that cuts deeper than anything.

His jealousy is explosive, even small things can trigger him, sometimes the person he’s jealous of pays the price.

He gaslights without meaning to, when you confront him about his behavior, Tuco gets defensive, to him, the situation genuinely doesn’t seem that bad as long as he has you.

He gets paranoid that you’ll betray him, so even if you’ve never given him a reason to doubt you, sometimes the paranoia creeps in.

✦ Viktor

☀️ Fluff HCs

He absolutely shows off for you, if you’re nearby when he’s doing something driving, fixing something, handling a situation he’ll make sure you’re watching.

"You see that? I Handled it."

He remembers every compliment you’ve ever given him, even ones you forgot about.

He gets quietly clingy when he’s tired, Victor normally gives you space, but when he’s exhausted he gravitates toward you.

He’s a little shy about physical affection, Victor doesn’t go for public displays, but in private it's a whole different story.

Viktor can be over dramatic sometimes when it comes to you, especially if you're involved in his life too much, not wanting you near dangerous situations.

He secretly enjoys being "caught" doing something for you.

He trusts you completely and expects the same.

He melts at your appreciation, a simple "thank you" or "good job" makes him soften.

🌩️ Angst

He struggles to show emotion, Victor cares deeply, but the nature of his work forces him to stay stoic, when he wants to comfort you or show affection, it often comes out awkwardly.

He feels guilt over the danger he brings, being around Victor means you’re exposed to risks.

He’s torn between duty and desire, Victor's loyalty to his work conflicts with his feelings for you.

He distances himself to protect you, Victor sometimes pulls back emotionally or physically.

He avoids emotional vulnerability, even with you, when you ask if he’s okay, he brushes it off with "I'm fine."

He uses sarcasm or clipped remarks like a weapon.

"I don’t see how that concerns you." he’s just frustrated, scared, and unsure how to communicate his feelings without hurting you.

Arguments make him simultaneously distant and clingy, after a fight, he might pull away physically or emotionally to 'cool off.' since he's desperate for resolution and reassurance, and will quietly linger near you.

✦ Krazy-8/Domingo

☀️ Fluff HCs

Domingo’s surprisingly gentle side comes out when he’s alone with you. After a long, stressful day in the streets, he loves just sitting next to you on the couch.

While he’s protective of you, he trusts your instincts. If you insist on doing something risky, he’s there ready to back you up not lecture.

He doesn’t always say it out loud, but he worries about you. Sometimes it shows as a hand on your shoulder, a glance that checks you’re okay, or insisting on walking you to your car.

He can tell when you’re holding back or pretending to be okay. He’ll ask, softly, "you good, or do you wanna talk about it?" You don’t even have to explain fully he just knows how to guide you to feel better or find a solution.

He teases you gently, enough to make you laugh, but always lovingly, sometimes even call you by nicknames that he gave you.

He’s not flashy with romance, but he enjoys lowkey dates: walking through a market, sharing a taco at a street stall, or catching the sunset on a random rooftop.

Domingo notices when you doubt yourself and offers quiet, steady encouragement "you can do this. I know you can."

🌩️ Angst

He gets tense when you go out without him, even for simple things. His hands twitch with worry, and his texts are more frequent than normal.

When he thinks he’s protecting you by keeping secrets or withdrawing, it can hurt you, making you feel shut out.

If someone shows you attention, he tries to hide his jealousy but it comes out in quiet tension or possessive gestures.

When you argue, even if it’s small, he can’t sleep or eat properly until you make up, he replays your words, thinking about how he could have handled it better.

If something feels even slightly threatening in public someone looking at you wrong, a shady street corner he becomes rigid, protective, hyper-aware.

Gus fring x NewEmploy!Reader

✦ PREVIOUS PART >>

Summery: After weeks of searching, you finally land an interview at Los Pollos Hermanos, You’ve heard plenty of rumors about how tough it is to get hired there, and now you’re about to face your first interview, unsure if you’ll make the cut.

ⓘ Tags: Basic violence (not detailed), emotional bond, Mutual pining?, Gustavo being more strict, Salamanca twins showing up (If I missed any tags let me know, please and thank you)

MASTERLIST | 🪻 DIVIDER CREDIT

Morning came like it always did, clean floors. Polished counters. The quiet rhythm of routine.

The fryers hummed. The soda machine hissed. Registers chimed softly, you kept your head down, no one mentioned yesterday. No one needed to.

Then.

A single, calm voice cut through the noise.

"Excuse me everyone, could you all please take a moment join me out here"

It wasn’t loud, every movement in the restaurant stilled "Please" he added gently. "come"

Staff members exchanged glances. Aprons were adjusted. Gloves removed. One by one, everyone stepped closer, you stayed near the back.

He noticed.

"I would" he began, his voice even and steady "like to apologize to each and every one of you who yesterday had to endure the behavior of those men. It was unacceptable. Despite the difficult circumstances, you all acquitted yourselves impeccably."

The room was silent enough to hear the faint crackle of oil in the fryers.

"That said, if any of you wish to seek counseling due to lingering trauma, speak with me privately, and it will be arranged."

His gaze moved across the group, not lingering on anyone, but somehow reaching everyone.

"Also, you will all be receiving twenty four hours of overtime, as I am sure in one way or another, each of you brought this incident home with you."

They nodded among themselves, until one of them hesitantly raised a hand.

"Uh, yes, Lyle?" He spoke with steady, calm precision before his gaze shifted to Lyle.

"Mr. Fring uh, who were those guys?" Gustavo hesitated for a moment, his calm mask never faltering, before his gaze swept slowly across the group once more.

"Well, as some of you know, many years ago, I opened my first Los Pollos Hermanos in Michoacán. Shortly thereafter, those same men showed up." He added "They wanted money."

He countined

"I'm ashamed to say that I paid them." he paused for moment, everyone's gaze was on him.

"You see, in that place at that time, if I wished to, to conduct my business, I had no choice."

"But yesterday... Yesterday they came here. Here." For a heartbeat, his tone betrayed a flash of anger, then he forced it back into his usual calm, measured voice.

"They intimidated my customers, they threatened my employees, and again" he added "They wanted money."

"Now, my friends, I-I must confess that I almost gave them what they wanted." His gaze never leaving

"But then I thought, "No. No. This is America. Here, the righteous have no reason to fear. Here, those men have no power."

He continued to speak.

"And when they saw that I had no fear of them, they ran like the cowards they are back across the border." he paused for moment, before speaking again

"They will not return. We will move on from this. My friends, I promise you that together we will prosper"

As soon as his words ended, the room erupted in applause, his gaze still not leaving his head kept nodding, appreciating.

"Now, let’s continue with our day" he said, voice measured, eyes scanning the room.

Everyone nodded and returned to their tasks. Gustavo let out a soft sigh before his gaze settled on you, focused on cleaning the counter. Quietly, he moved around the prep station, his steps deliberate, silent.

Without you noticing, he came up beside you.

"May I?" he asked.

Startled, you looked up, finally meeting his steady, controlled gaze.

You hesitated for a moment before holding the cloth out to him. He took it with a slow nod, his expression unreadable. You didn’t speak you weren’t sure whether you were supposed to stay or step aside.

Then, you thought it might be better to do something anything else.

But before you could move, Gustavo’s calm voice broke the silence.

"Would you mind accompanying me to my office for a brief discussion"

You nodded. He set the cloth down on the counter and walked ahead of you, leading the way to his office.

He opened the door and held it for you. You stepped inside, and he moved to his chair, sitting with professional precision.

"Please make yourself comfortable." he said, indicating for you to take a seat.

You hesitated for a moment before lowering yourself into the chair across from him. The office was quiet, almost unnervingly so, the faint hum of the air conditioning the only sound.

Gustavo leaned back slightly, hands folded neatly on the desk.

"I must apologize to you personally for what occurred with those men yesterday" he added

"No one should have to endure that, and I want you to know it will not happen again under my supervision." You shift slightly in your chair, feeling the weight of his gaze. There’s no malice, but there’s authority

"You don’t need to apologize, Mr. Fring" you said, your voice steady, "I completely understand that the situation was out of your hands, none of us could have predicted this, but I'm glad it's at least over"

"Indeed." he nodded, pausing for a moment, his gaze steady and unreadable.

"I must ask… did that man say anything to you?"

The question hung in the air, calm but weighted. You felt the subtle intensity in his tone.

You didn’t answer right away, the question caught you off guard.

"No" you said, shaking your head once, then again for emphasis.

He leaned in slightly, voice calm but precise. "Anything… particular at all?"

You shook your head again, uncertainty flickering across your face. "I… I don’t think so" you admitted, your voice steady despite the knot of tension in your stomach.

His eyes stayed on you, unyielding, as though he were reading everything you hadn’t said. The silence stretched, deliberate and heavy, until finally his posture relaxed just enough, and a faint, controlled smile touched his lips.

"Well then, I’m pleased we were able to have this discussion, If you encounter any issues in the future" he added "please do not hesitate to bring them to me."

You nodded and rose from your seat. The whole encounter had felt… unusual, you thought to yourself, though not in a threatening way. Shrugging off the lingering tension, you stepped toward the door and exited, letting it close softly behind you, leaving him alone in the room.

Later that day, you couldn’t shake the question he had asked. The thought lingered in your mind, gnawing at you, though you didn’t dare ask for clarification you didn’t want to cross any boundaries. Instead, you kept yourself busy with customers, moving quickly from task to task to prevent your mind from circling back.

There was something strange about the way he had looked at you, too. Sometimes, he would gaze at you for long moments, then turn back to his work with his usual composed demeanor, interacting with customers as if nothing had happened. It unsettled you, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on why.

That day, he was only in the restaurant for a few hours in the morning before leaving somewhere. Usually, he would give you instructions for the night shift ensuring everything was locked and checked but this time, he didn’t say a word.

Only later did you learn that you weren’t assigned to the night shift. Someone else had been put in your place. Did he really see you as unprofessional, you wondered silently?

You didn’t plan on asking him. There was no reason to. You did your job. You went home. That was it.

For the past few months, things had only grown colder. Sometimes he wouldn’t even acknowledge you. And when he did, his tone was stricter, sharper so different from before that you weren’t even sure what you had done wrong.

He made you handle both the kitchen and the counter, tasks he normally split between employees. You didn’t complain you never did but the extra work felt heavier under his gaze.

Then there was that moment… a mistake, an accident. You’d spilled food and drinks across the floor and on yourself. Panic surged through you, your hands trembling, heart racing.

Then he appeared, calm but sharp as always. His eyes, dark and calculating, took in the spill, the ruined uniform, and your panicked expression.

You stammered, words tumbling out. "I-I didn’t mean to… it was an accident… Mr. Fring I’m so sorry…I'll re-reado it again!"

He didn’t immediately respond, but the disappointment in his eyes was impossible to miss. He didn’t say a word.

Finally, he motioned, quietly but firmly, "Go clean yourself up." keeping his tone quiet only you can hear it.

Without another word, he bent and grabbed a nearby bucket and mop, setting them down in front of you, you could barely meet his gaze.

Your hands shook as you walked toward the staff restroom, once inside, you locked the door and leaned against it for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. Your uniform was ruined, sticky and cold from the spill, and you could feel the heat of embarrassment spreading across your skin.

your mind raced. Mr. Fring wanted professionalism perfection. What would he think of you now? One mistake, one spill, and everything felt like it was collapsing.

You remembered how he had adjusted your shift just a few days ago, giving you more responsibility, more tasks.

This was it, you thought. This was the moment you’d fail him completely. The moment he’d finally see you as incapable, and this job the only one you’d worked so hard at would be gone.

After a few minutes, you had changed and stepped out of the staff restroom, expecting to be greeted by Gustavo but he never did. As usual, he was still moving quietly through the kitchen, helping employees where needed, calm and precise. You froze in place, as if time itself had paused, your gaze locked on him. Every muscle in your body wanted to impress him, to avoid the slightest hint of disappointment.

"Hey, excuse me" a man’s voice called out.

Your thoughts were still tangled around Gustavo, and you didn’t respond immediately, lost in your silent assessment of him.

"Excuse me?" the man repeated, his tone patient but firm, and suddenly you snapped out of your daze. Your gaze shifted, focusing on him and the small boy standing beside him.

Flushing slightly, you managed a quiet, apologetic smile. "Oh!… yes, I’m sorry"

"Hi, we’d like to order, please" the man said, smiling down at his son, who was bouncing slightly on his heels.

You quickly moved to the counter, trying to focus, your eyes flicking toward Gustavo every few second, you wanted so badly to do everything right, to make this simple interaction perfect under his watchful gaze.

"What can I get for you today?" you asked, your voice steadier than you felt.

The man looked at the menu, then at his son. "We’ll take two sandwiches with fries, please. One with the usual toppings for him, and… make mine with extra pickles."

You nodded, repeating the order to make sure you got it right. "Two sandwiches. One with standard toppings, one with extra pickles."

"Anything to drink?"

"Just two cokes, please" the father replied.

As you prepared the order, you felt Gustavo’s eyes on you time to time, calm but sharp. Every movement you made.

Finally, you handed the tray over.

"Here you go, enjoy your meal!"

"Thank you" the man said, smiling kindly as he took his meal. The little boy waved at you, then skipped ahead to their table.

After a few minutes, you tried your best to refocus, helping other customers, moving quickly and carefully.

you noticed the man waving at you again, the same man that was standing. You walked over to their table.

"Is there anything I can do?" you asked politely, keeping your tone professional.

He tilted his head slightly, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Well… you could tell me your name first" he said, leaning just a little closer. "I like to know who’s taking care of me and my lovely boy here. You’ve been… very thorough, and I appreciate that."

You blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected charm in his tone "Uh… sorry, sorry" you stammered, cheeks warming. "We aren’t allowed to give our names but I’m glad I could help."

"Saying your name wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?" the father asked with a teasing tilt of his head. The little boy at the table was happily eating, oblivious to the conversation, completely unaware of the tension in the air.

"I’m sorry… I cannot say" you replied firmly, trying to keep your voice calm. "It’s part of my job."

The man hummed, a playful glint in his eyes. "I see…"

There was a brief pause. Then he leaned slightly closer, voice softening. "When do you finish your shift?"

You hesitated, startled by the personal nature of the question. Why was he asking that? Your throat went dry, and you said nothing.

"I wouldn’t mind getting to know you… after your shift is over" he added casually, rolling his eyes at the word shift as if it annoyed him.

You opened your mouth, ready to correct him firmly. "There seems to be a misunderstanding, sir. This is my job, and what I do outside of-"

Before you could finish, a presence interrupted, calm but commanding. Gustavo was already beside you, his expression smooth, smile wide.

"Is there any issue?" he asked, voice low and measured, eyes scanning both you and the father.

"I was just here saying how much I appreciate this… lovely service I’m receiving" the father said smoothly, his grin returning. "Couldn’t be more thankful." he laughs

You froze in place.

"My employee" he gazes at you before returning his gaze to father "appreciates your compliment, and it is reassuring to know our service meets your expectations" Gustavo spoke calmly.

"Is there anything else with which my employee may assist you?"

The father hummed thoughtfully, then turned his gaze toward Gustavo, holding it just a moment longer than necessary, as if testing him. A faint smirk played on his lips, a silent challenge in the way he stared.

He leaned back in his chair casually before chuckling softly. "Hmm no… everything is fine" waving his hand

He nodded once, just slightly, acknowledging the answer.

Gustavo's eyes flicked up to you for just a moment, and the intensity of his gaze made your chest tighten and your mind scramble. Mentally, you were sweating, every nerve on edge under his silent scrutiny.

You quickly turned and walked back to the counter, focusing on helping other customers. Meanwhile, Gustavo’s gaze lingered on the departing father for several minutes.

Finally, a faint, controlled smile returned to his face, and he walked off, resuming his work as if nothing had occurred.

Later that day, you were still busy attending to customers, your movements automatic but your mind elsewhere. You scanned the kitchen and the dining area, searching for Gustavo, but he was nowhere to be found. You assumed he had probably left early again.

Still, your thoughts wouldn’t let go. Were you going to be fired? You had every reason to think he might after all, the earlier spill was a serious mistake. Yet you couldn’t shake the uncertainty of what he was waiting for.

Finally, your shift ended. You waved your colleagues goodbye, muttering polite thanks for the day, and headed to the staff restroom to change. The familiar routine of swapping your uniform offered a small sense of relief, but it couldn’t erase the lingering tension in your chest.

Stepping out of the building, you felt the cool air hit your face. A long walk lay ahead of you, and as you moved down the street, your mind replayed the events of the day.

you knew Gustavo was definitely disappointed at you.

And you needed to fix that somehow.

Morning came sooner than you would have liked, but waking up early had become routine by now. At the very least, you weren’t scheduled for another late shift. That was something to be grateful for.

When you arrived at the restaurant, a few of your coworkers were already busy preparing for the day. Tables were being wiped down, chairs straightened, and the floors freshly mopped.

You greeted them softly before slipping toward the staff restroom to change into your uniform.

Today would be different.

You couldn’t undo yesterday’s mistake, but you could make sure nothing like that happened again. Every movement, every task perfect.

Or at least as close to perfect as you could manage.

Once the doors opened, you threw yourself into the work.

You helped in the kitchen when things became busy, when the front counter filled with customers, you stepped out to take orders, your voice polite and professional as it needs to be.

You double checked every receipt, orders making sure everything is how it needs to be.

Smiled at every customer.

Hours passed like that, the steady rhythm of work almost calming in a way, making you forget things.

Normally, Gustavo would appear at some point during the day. Sometimes he simply walked through the restaurant, observing quietly. Other times he would step into the kitchen, offering calm guidance or assisting when things became busy.

But today he hasn't showed up, which it could be expected.

You were wiping down the counter when the door opened.

Two men stepped inside.

At first glance they looked almost identical tall, broad shouldered,dressed in dark suits that felt strangely formal for a place like this. Their expressions were unreadable, their movements slow and deliberate as they walked to one of the tables near the window.

They sat down.

And then they simply… stared.

At first you tried to ignore it. Customers glanced at the menu all the time before ordering, but minutes passed, neither of them touched the menu.

Neither of them spoke, and their eyes hadn’t left you.

You glanced around the restaurant briefly, wondering if one of the managers had noticed them, but everyone else seemed busy. The kitchen was loud, a line of customers waited at the register.

Taking a steady breath, you forced yourself to walk toward their table.

Professional. Polite. Just like always, stopping beside them, you gave a small smile.

"Excuse me… do you need anything?"

The two men didn’t answer, they didn’t even blink, their dark eyes remained fixed on you.

"Would you like to order?" you asked again gently. "Or… can I bring you something?"

Still nothing.

One of them tilted his head ever so slightly, as if analazying you.

Your fingers tightened around the small notepad you were holding.

"Dónde está el jefe" The words were quiet but firm,

you blinked, caught off guard. "I'm sorry?"

"El jefe" The other man spoke this time, his voice just as low.

A long pause followed. Both of them continued staring at you. Their expressions didn’t change, their eyes fixed on you in a way that made your chest tighten with unease.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were supposed to say.

"Are you looking for the manager…?" you asked carefully. "Or…"

Neither of them answered.

They simply kept staring.

"Please excuse me for one moment" you said politely.

You walked back toward the counter, but you could still feel their gaze on you the entire time. It made your nerves tighten, like they were staring straight through you.

Leaning slightly over the counter, you called your manager over. The two of you spoke quietly for a few minutes while she tried calling someone.

It didn’t take long, a few minutes later, the door opened.

And Gustavo stepped inside.

The moment he entered, his gaze immediately found the twins sitting at the table before calmly walking toward the counter, greeting the staff with his usual polite composure.

Your manager stepped forward.

"It seems one of our employees ran into some trouble while trying to serve these gentlemen" she said, gesturing toward you.

You stiffened slightly as she motioned for you to come closer, reluctantly, you stepped forward to stand beside her.

Even though his expression was calm, the weight of his attention made your shoulders stiffen slightly.

"What seems to be the issue?" he asked politely.

You swallowed, trying to explain.

"I… wasn’t really sure what they were asking for" you admitted quietly. "They were speaking Spanish, so I thought the manager might be able to help them."

You glanced briefly toward the twins before looking back at him.

"But then she decided to call you."

For a moment, Gustavo said nothing.

"I see" he said calmly, looking back at you. "You handled the situation appropriately."

The tension in your chest loosened slightly at the words.

"You may return to your duties." You nodded quickly.

It was later that day when you noticed them again.

From behind the counter, you caught sight of Gustavo standing near the back of the restaurant, speaking quietly with the two men. Their conversation was brief, their voices low enough that you couldn’t hear a single word from where you stood.

A moment later, the conversation ended.

The twins gave a small nod before turning in unison. Without another word, they began walking toward the exit.

For a few seconds, Gustavo remained where he was, his gaze lingering on the door.

Then, as if nothing unusual had happened at all, he straightened his jacket and calmly returned to his work.

His gaze briefly landed on you a short, measured look that carried more weight than words could express 'we need to talk' look.

Personality wise, she’d fall somewhere between Tucos and Lalos

Tuco Salamanca x Reader

Summery: After years of dealing with his violent temper and unpredictable behavior, you finally reached your limit. You showed up unannounced at his hideout, determined to end things for good. You asked him to talk, ready to walk away no matter what he said, but only for that situation to differently...

ⓘ Tags: Unstable relationship, emotional tension, power Imbalance, jealousy, possessive behavior, reader is part of the cartel, gender neutral reader (If I missed any tags let me know please and thank you)

A/N: I have decided to continue writing the Gus x NewEmploy story, as I have numerous ideas I wish to explore. However, I am not entirely satisfied with my previous writing it feels somewhat rushed and confusing. I'll try my best in future to fix it

MASTERLIST | 💣 DIVIDER CREDIT

Sometimes a day couldn’t pass without Tuco calling you for the third time before noon. It had become routine over the past few years his name flashing across your screen, his voice already raised before you could even say hello.

When you first met him through one of his guys, you never expected things to last this long. Not with him. Everyone had warned you said he was unpredictable, explosive, impossible to work with. And they weren’t wrong.

Still, you stil stayed.

No matter what he asked, you handled it. No complaints. No excuses. You and Tuco never really had problems unless you counted the yelling. But that was just business. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but sometimes you wondered if he favored you. It sounded stupid when you thought about it. He yelled at you more than anyone over the smallest mistakes, whether you were alone or standing in front of everyone. Maybe that meant the opposite.

Recently, though, things had shifted.

You were on your way to close a deal routine, simple, nothing you hadn’t handled before. But the second you stepped into that empty lot, you felt it was off. The tension. The way the other dealer wouldn’t meet your eyes, the way they spoke a well.

it felt shady.

You were used to violence. It came with the territory. But it had never gotten this bad.

The deal went south fast. Shouting. A shove. Then a punch you didn’t see coming. After that, it blurred boots against your ribs, your head striking concrete, the metallic taste of blood filling your mouth.

And through all of it, your only clear thought was what is Tuco going to say?

Not fear of the pain. Not fear of dying.

Just him.

The other dealer eventually left you there, bleeding out on the ground like discarded trash. You were still conscious barely but your body refused to move. Every breath burned.

A few minutes later, your phone rang.

The sound felt distant, almost underwater. It had been thrown a few feet away during the fight, lying cracked against the pavement.

You didn’t need to see the screen to know who it was.

Tuco.

It rang once, stopped, then started again.

You tried to move your arm. Nothing.

It kept ringing.

And for the first time in years… you couldn’t answer him.

A few days passed after the incident.

You recovered slowly. Bruises fading from deep purple to sickly yellow. Cuts stitching themselves back together. Breathing no longer felt like swallowing glass.

You hadn’t seen Tuco, only calls.

And you didn’t dare show your face. Not after what happened. Not after missing his call.

You gave him a weak excuse over the phone said you hadn’t heard it, that your phone had been thrown during the deal, that next time it wouldn’t happen.

You waited for the explosion.

But it never came, he "understood."

No yelling, no threats, no insults.

It should’ve relieved you, instead, it unsettled you.

The next day, you forced yourself to go to his hideout.

There were more people outside than usual. Cars lined up. A few of his guys leaning against the wall, talking low. But when you stepped out of your car, the conversation dipped.

Eyes shifted.

Then shifted away.

You walked toward the door. The guard standing there didn’t even look at you just stepped aside and opened it.

Inside wasn’t any better. Two men near the hallway glanced at you and immediately moved out of your path. No one stopped you. No one checked you.

Since when did Tuco’s crew stop checking people?

Was everyone acting strange today… or were you?

You stepped into the main room, there he was, Tuco sat at the table, a knife spinning lazily between his fingers.

He studied the blade like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Light caught along the edge as he tilted it back and forth.

You approached slowly, stopping a few feet in front of him.

For a moment, he didn’t look up.

"Well… look who decided to show up" his voice wasn’t loud, that made it worse.

The knife stopped spinning.

Now he looked at you.

"Take a seat" You hesitated for little bit, before taking a seat, there was awkward silence between, just him staring at you before-

"You good?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "Heard you had a little accident."

There it was. The word accident sitting heavy in the air.

"I call you" he continued, voice measured. "You don’t answer."

The knife tapped lightly against his palm.

"I call again."

Tap.

"And again."

"And suddenly… you don’t hear your phone?" his eyes flicked over the fading bruises on your face.

"Then you give me a bullshit excuse, you didn't hear it." he stabs a desk with a knife, and immediately gets up

"Do you think I'm stupid?" The room stayed silent.

You opened your mouth maybe to explain, maybe to calm him down but that was the mistake.

Tuco’s hand shot out, grabbing the front of your shirt and slamming you back against the nearest wall.

"DON’T lie to me!" he roared, the sudden volume making a few of his men physically flinch. "You don’t ignore my calls. Nobody ignores my calls!"

His grip tightened, knuckles whitening. You could smell cigarette smoke and metal on his breath.

"You think I didn’t know what happened?" he continued, voice rising and cracking with fury. "You think I didn’t hear about that deal? Huh?"

"I send you to do one thing. ONE! And you get jumped? You get left bleeding on the ground like some idiot?"

The words weren’t just anger, they were insulted.

Personal.

For half a second, something conflicted flashed across his face then rage swallowed it whole.

"You should’ve called me" he hissed, stepping close again. “You should’ve said something. Instead you hide. You avoid me, giving me dumb excuses"

His free hand slammed against the wall beside your head.

"You embarrass me like that again" he grabbed a knife from desk pressing the knife just slightly against your shoulder, enough to feel the cold metal, "and I won’t be so understanding."

Then suddenly, he stepped back.

Ran a hand over his shaved head.

Started laughing.

Not amused.

Unstable.

"Look at you" he muttered. "Can’t even stand straight and you still show up."

Another short laugh.

"You got guts. I’ll give you that."

The room remained frozen, waiting for the next mood swing.

He pointed the knife toward the door.

"I already handled the guy who touched you" he said casually, like discussing the weather. "He ain’t touching anybody ever again."

His eyes locked onto yours.

After that day, things didn’t settle.

They got worse over some time.

You did everything he asked. More than everything. You showed up early, stayed late, handled jobs without complaint. You didn’t miss calls. You didn’t argue. You didn’t hesitate.

And still it wasn’t enough.

You couldn’t tell if he was angry about the deal going wrong… or about you not answering him that day?

The yelling became sharper. More personal. He watched you differently now like he was waiting for you to slip again.

You were constantly on edge.

At some point, exhaustion replaced fear, you couldn’t do this anymore.

You didn’t want to keep looking over your shoulder. Didn’t want your life orbiting around Tuco and his moods. You wanted out.

So you made a decision.

You were going to end it.

You didn’t call ahead like you usually did, didn’t warn anyone you were coming.

When you pulled up to the hideout, the same group of men stood outside, talking low. The moment they saw you, conversation dipped not fully silent, just… cautious.

You walked toward the entrance.

The guard at the door stiffened slightly when you approached. He knew you. Everyone did. Still, he avoided your eyes and stepped aside without a word.

Just a silent invitation inside.

Inside, two more guards stood by the hallway. They barely glanced at you before moving out of the way.

You half-expected one of them to say, "Tuco’s not here."

But he was.

You could hear his voice from behind the closed door at the end of the corridor animated, sharp, mid-conversation.

You approached the door.

"PLEASE TUCO I DIDNT ME-!" a man screamed. “I didn’t-”

A sharp crack echoed through the room. The man yelled again, clutching his ribs.

Then a grunt. The sound of someone hitting the floor. Heavy boots stomping. The low, uncontrolled growl that always preceded one of his tempers.

"PLEA-.."

You froze just outside the doorway, watching.

Tuco was pacing, eyes wild, fists clenched. The man on the ground scrambled away from him, covering his face. Sweat and blood mixed on the floor. Tuco’s knife spun between his fingers like a toy, tapping the table with an irregular rhythm, punctuating every word.

"I told you!" Tuco shouted. "Do you think I’m a joke? Do you think I play?" "ANSWER ME."

And then… he stopped.

His head snapped up, catching your eyes in the doorway.

The knife slowed. His chest heaved, and for a split second, the room held its breath.

The guy on the floor is sobbing in blood, thinking this was it.

Tuco kicked the man to get up, waving his hand to his guard to take him.

Tuco spun the knife back into his pocket and strolled over to his table, leaning casually against it. He looked up at you, eyes sharp but unreadable.

"I wasn’t expecting to see you that early" he said, a laugh bubbling up loud, jagged, unpredictable. "You miss me that much?"

He paused, letting the words hang, then smirked. "Kidding. Kidding. Relax."

He leaned back in his chair, tapping the edge of the table with his fingers, eyes never leaving yours.

"So… what brings you here?"

You shifted, feeling the tension coil tighter around your chest.

"I need to talk" you said, voice steady even if your hands were trembling.

Tuco’s smirk widened. "Oh? You got my attention now. And here I was thinking today would be boring."

He leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table, the sudden intimacy of the gesture unnerving. "Talk, huh? let's hear it"

You swallowed hard, and for a moment, the air between you felt impossibly heavy.

"I’m done" you said finally, locking eyes with him. "I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. I’m done with this life. Done with the jobs, done with the-"

Tuco’s eyes narrowed slightly. The faint smirk faltered.

Then… he laughed again. A short, sharp bark of a laugh, almost too casual.

"Done, huh?" he said slowly, leaning back. "You walk in here, all serious, telling me you’re done…"

"Didn’t know you had it in you… a prankster, new thing" he said, voice laced with that jagged humor only he could pull off. "I really needed to hear a joke today, God!"

You frowned, unsure if he was mocking you, testing you, or genuinely amused.

Tuco let out a sharp, amused sigh, like he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world. The tension in the room didn’t vanish.

"Now seriously" he said, voice smoother but still sharp, leaning back in his chair. "Why you here?"

"I’m done, Tuco" you said, trying to sound steady, forcing your voice to hold firm. "I want out. I don’t want to be part of this anymore."

Silence filled the room, loud and suffocating. His gaze never left yours. Slowly, he leaned forward in his chair.

"You want out?" he repeated, low and dangerous. You didn’t answer immediately.

"You. Want. Out" he said again, each word deliberate, like a hammer striking the air.

He stood suddenly, the movement so fast you shifted back in your chair.

"Wow. You want out, huh?" He brought his hands to his face for a moment, muttering something under his breath before laughing sharp, manic.

Then he turned, not facing you. His voice dropped, low, almost a growl. "Why do you want out?"

"I ju-" you began, but he cut you off.

"IN DETAIL!"

You swallowed hard, forcing your words together. "I just think… this isn’t for me. I’ve been feeling it for the past few months, and I think it would be better for me-.. and for business if I just quit."

He said nothing, still facing away, hands pressing down onto the desk.

"Tuco, please-" you began.

He laughed again, a sharp, bark like laugh. "You wanna quit? On me? HEY! On ME? That’s your plan, huh? You think those motherfuckers out there would do better? DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THAT?"

"That’s no-"

He spun around, slamming a hand on the desk. The force made you flinch.

"IS there something I don’t know about?? HUH? YOU’RE NOT TELLING ME THE WHOLE THING! Did someone else purposely give you some ‘better’ advice? IS THAT WHAT THIS IS?!"

"Nonono! Please, listen!" you pleaded.

"WHO DID YOU TALK TO?!" he roared.

"I didn’t talk to anyone. This is purely my choice. This isn’t personal, Tuco" you said, voice firm despite your fear.

"NOT PERSONAL? NOT. PERSONAL?! YOU’RE QUITTING ON ME!"

He stepped closer, eyes blazing. "Do you wanna end up like any other guy on that ground outside? What do you think would happen if you leave THIS PLACE? Huh? Ever think about that?"

"Do you think someone out there would protect you? like I DO You’re a criminal! THEY WOULDN’T CARE FOR YOU."

He reached down, grabbed his knife from the desk, spinning it loosely in his hand. "So go ahead. Walk through that door. And we’ll see what happens."

You stayed silent, staring at him. Every word he said was true. You were a criminal. Out there, nobody would care. In or out, you were dead if things went wrong.

He sighed, sitting back down heavily in his chair. "Can’t fucking believe the day I hear the stupidest thing come out of your mouth… and it gets me all worked up."

You didn’t respond. You just nodded, letting the room’s tension linger like smoke.

"If you needed a break, you could’ve told me differently" he said, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. "Not quitting."

He leaned back slightly, voice rising with a manic edge. “I gave you everything you needed even if you didn’t ask, If you’re tired, you can take a break. I don’t mind. But don’t quit, don’t come here" he laughed, hysterically, a sharp, jagged sound "and say you wanna quit. QUIT!"

Then he stopped abruptly, hands falling away from his face. He leaned back in the chair, shaking his head, eyes fixed on you. His chest heaved, and for a moment, the wild energy faded into something… almost normal.

"I’m sorry" you said, he sighed, quiet now. The manic edge had gone, replaced with something heavier, more reflective. "I’ll give you some time. A break, okay? I wouldn’t have you deal with anything until you’re fully ready. How does that sound?"

If it had been anyone else, they’d be dead long before he said a single calm word.

"Sounds… good" you said, voice hesitant. "i’m sorry about the whole thing… I-uh…"

He didn’t say anything, just stared, eyes sharp and unreadable. Then he sighed again, heavy and almost tired, and for a moment, the room felt still.

"Thank you, Tuco" you said softly.

Still nothing. Just his eyes on you.

You turned and walked away, heart hammering. You were sure you wanted to quit, wanted out… but after everything he’d just said.

Gus fring x NewEmploy!Reader

✦ NEXT PART >>

Summery: After weeks of searching, you finally land an interview at Los Pollos Hermanos, You’ve heard plenty of rumors about how tough it is to get hired there, and now you’re about to face your first interview, unsure if you’ll make the cut.

ⓘ Tags: Basic violence (not detailed), Rude customer interaction, Workplace tension, This takes place in S3, E4, emotional bond, Mutual pining in future (If I missed any tags let me know, please and thank you)

A/n: Not sure if I should keep going, but I thought I’d give it a shot to see if anyone likes it. + this is unfinished writing

MASTERLIST | 🪻 DIVIDER CREDIT

It had been a few days since you applied for the job. Every other place had rejected you, saying you didn’t have enough experience. By now, you were expecting the same response from Los Pollos Hermanos another polite "not enough experience."

You sighed, looking at your surroundings. The table was covered with newspapers and scattered notes, each one filled with hastily scribbled numbers and calculations. Bills. Deadlines. Amounts you weren’t sure how you were going to pay.

Exhausted, you finally let yourself fall back onto the couch. The cushions sank beneath your weight as you dragged a pillow over your face.

Then your phone rang.

The sound cut through the apartment like a siren.

You froze for half a second before jolting upright. The ringtone was coming from the hallway. You scrambled to your feet, nearly slipping on a loose newspaper as you rushed toward the sound, your heart pounding harder with every step.

Unknown number.

You hesitated.

This is it, you thought. Another rejection. Another polite apology, you swallowed your nerves and answered.

"Hello?"

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line

"Good afternoon" a calm, professional voice said. "This is regarding your recent application at Los Pollos Hermanos."

Your grip tightened on the phone, and suddenly, you weren’t sure if you were ready to hear what came next.

"-and we’d like to invite you in for an interview."

"I’m… sorry?" you managed, convinced you’d misheard.

"We were impressed with your application" the voice continued smoothly. "Mr. Fring appreciates initiative. Are you available tomorrow at 3 p.m.?"

Tomorrow.

"Yes!.. yes, absolutely" you blurted, nearly too fast. You cleared your throat, trying to sound composed. "Three works perfectly."

"Excellent. Please arrive ten minutes early. Ask for Mr. Fring when you get here."

The call ended with a polite goodbye, and just like that, the line went dead.

An interview, not a rejection, not a brush off, an actual chance.

A shaky laugh escaped you, half disbelief, half relief. You ran a hand through your hair, pacing the small stretch of hallway like you’d just been handed a winning lottery ticket.

You looked back at the mess in your apartment the bills, the notes, the reminders of how close you were to running out of options.

Tomorrow at 3 p.m.

This could change everything.

The day finally came.

You wore your suit to look more professional or at least, that’s what you told yourself. Maybe it was a little too much for a fast food restaurant interview, but you didn’t care. Better overdressed than underprepared. You just hoped you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself.

You paid the taxi driver and stepped out into the parking lot. As the cab pulled away, you stood there for a second, staring up at the bright yellow sign of Los Pollos Hermanos.

This was it.

You smoothed down your suit jacket, brushing away invisible dust, adjusting your sleeves, straightening your tie anything to keep your hands busy and your nerves in check.

Taking a steady breath, you walked inside.

The place was lively. Customers filled the dining area, laughing and chatting over trays of food. The scent of fried chicken and spices hung heavily in the air, employees moved quickly and efficiently behind the counter, taking orders, calling out numbers, packing meals with mechanical precision.

You made your way toward the front counter the register area where customers placed their orders. The cashier, a teenager with a headset and a forced but polite smile, looked up at you.

"Hi, welcome to Los Pollos Hermanos. What can I get for you?"

Your mouth suddenly felt dry.

"I-I’m actually here for an interview" you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "I was told to ask for Mr. Fring."

Something shifted in the cashier’s expression. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable.

"One moment" they said quickly.

They turned and disappeared through a door behind the counter likely leading to the back offices.

You stood there awkwardly, painfully aware of the customers in line behind you, the hum of conversation around you.

A few seconds later, the door opened again.

And when the man stepped out, the entire atmosphere seemed to change.

Calm. Composed. Immaculate.

His tie perfectly aligned. His posture straight. His expression unreadable yet polite.

"You arrived early" he said evenly. His voice was soft, controlled almost gentle. "I appreciate punctuality."

A brief pause.

"Please" he gestured lightly toward the hallway behind the counter "come with me."

You swallowed and nodded, forcing your legs to move.

The hallway behind the counter was narrow and spotless, the scent of industrial cleaner faint but sharp. The noise of the restaurant dulled with every step, replaced by a quieter, heavier silence. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead.

He walked slightly ahead of you, hands loosely folded in front of him. Not rushed. Not slow. Measured.

He opened a door at the end of the corridor and stepped aside to let you enter first.

The office was modest. Neat to the point of sterility. A desk without clutter. Two chairs placed with deliberate symmetry. A small plant by the window that looked meticulously maintained.

"Please" he said again, gesturing to the chair across from his desk.

You sat.

He did not immediately follow. Instead, he closed the door softly not a click, not a slam. Just a quiet, decisive shut.

Only then did he take his seat.

Up close, his composure was even more unsettling. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were not passive. They observed. Measured. Weighed.

"You applied for a front counter position" he said, folding his hands neatly on the desk. "Yet your resume reflects experience in logistics and inventory control."

"Yes, sir" you replied quickly. "Scheduling. Vendor coordination. Inventory tracking."

A small nod.

"Overqualified" he said calmly, he reached into the thin folder on his desk your file and slid a paper forward.

"I see you left your previous employer without notice."

Your stomach tightened.

"It was… poorly handled" you said carefully.

He studied you for a moment that lasted just slightly too long.

"In my experience" he said softly, "poor handling reflects poor discipline."

The air felt thinner.

"But" he continued smoothly "discipline can be learned."

The silence stretched. He didn’t rush to fill it.

You forced yourself to hold his gaze. "I made a decision without securing confirmation. I won’t repeat that mistake"

He closed the file with deliberate precision.

"Los Pollos Hermanos operates on structure."

His voice remained level.

"The cashier position requires consistency accuracy composure under pressure, you will represent this establishment at the first point of contact, that requires reliability not ambition."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle around you like a physical presence.

"I understand, sir" you said.

"Our shift begins promptly at 7:00 a.m., and I ask all employees to arrive fifteen minutes early to ensure a smooth start to the day. Proper uniform is required at all times, as it reflects our standards and professionalism."

You felt your palms press against your knees, gripping them tightly.

"Questions?" his voice was soft, but each word landed like a stone.

"No, sir," you said.

He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Very well. Report tomorrow at 6:45 a.m. Come prepared."

That was it.

No further questions. No drawn out evaluation. Just a quiet decision delivered without ceremony.

You rose carefully, unsure whether to thank him or simply leave. He had already lowered his gaze to the folder on his desk, your name now just ink on paper.

For a moment, you stood there, waiting half expecting him to add something more. A warning. A condition. A test.

Nothing came.

"You may go" he said calmly, without looking up.

"Yes, sir"

You stepped out of the office, the door closing with a soft click behind you. The noise felt louder than it should have.

Months passed.

The job itself was not difficult. It simply demanded perfection.

Every table aligned. Every surface spotless. Every receipt accounted for. The floors had to gleam under the fluorescent lights not almost clean, not acceptable immaculate,just the way he preferred.

You learned quickly that his standards were not spoken twice.

Tonight, the restaurant was silent, the last employee had clocked out twenty minutes ago. Chairs were flipped neatly atop tables. The scent of disinfectant lingered faintly in the air as you guided the mop in steady, deliberate strokes across the floor. No shortcuts. He noticed shortcuts.

You always checked the doors before leaving. Front entrance. Side entrance. Storage exit.

Everything was as it should be, almost.

A thin strip of light stretched across the darkened hallway floor, his office.

Of course.

You didn’t need to check the clock to know it was late. He was always the last to leave.

It felt strange being the only two people left in the building. The quiet was heavier when he was still inside.

You finished the final pass with the mop and set it aside carefully. Bucket emptied. Supplies returned. Everything exactly where it belonged.

You hesitated.

Technically, you could leave without saying anything. He hadn’t asked for updates at the end of shifts. If something was wrong, he would know, you thought to yourself.

You still looked away forcing your view on tables to make sire everything is clean.

A soft click echoed from the office. The light had gone out. You blinked.

Then, the office door opened.

He stepped out, calm perfectly composed, jacket straight, hands at his sides, he didn’t startle you but you felt it anyway, that little jolt you couldn’t explain

He walked toward you. He didn’t say a word, instead letting his eyes sweep over the surrounding area, calm and deliberate. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable it was measured, almost companionable in its own way.

"I finished everything for tonight" you said, voice low but steady. He didn’t turn to face you, keeping his gaze fixed in the distance

"And the trash?" you asked, glancing at him as he moved toward one of the tables. His hand hovered above the surface, a single finger dragging lightly along it, testing for even the faintest imperfection.

"Yes. That too, sir" you said. You stood quietly, careful not to break the flow of his inspection, though you felt the weight of his attention like a gentle pressure.

He paused, letting his finger linger on the table for a moment longer, then withdrew it slowly. "Very well." he said finally. His tone was neutral, but the slight nod that followed felt… deliberate.

You exhaled quietly,

"You may take your leave. I’ve got it from here. Thank you." He gave you a quick, precise nod. You started toward the changing area.

"Oh, and another thing" he said. You paused and turned back.

He didn’t approach. Hands at his sides, posture perfect, eyes briefly meeting yours before shifting back to the restaurant. "It’s late. You should not walk home. I will drive you. Consider it… an appreciation for staying late night shifts"

"I wouldn’t bother you with that, sir! I… I can manage" you said quickly, trying not to sound nervous. This was the first time he’d ever asked something like this.

"Nonsense" he replied, calm, precise. "I would be delighted to drive you home."

"Well… uh… as long as you don’t mind. I still have no issue walking back" you added, fumbling slightly, your hands twisting together.

"I'm certain you do not,” he said, calm and precise, however, I would appreciate it if you accepted my offer… if that is something you want."

"Well… okay" you replied softly, a small flutter in your chest.

He gave a brief, deliberate nod as you made your way to the dressing room to change out of your uniform. When you returned, he was still standing in the same spot, hands at his sides, posture flawless. Neither of you said a word.

You both made your way to the door. He paused briefly to double check the locks, moving with careful efficiency, before leading the way toward his car.

You opened the passenger door and slid in. The interior smelled clean, faintly of leather and something else something subtle, almost sharp but not unpleasant. You could have guessed it if you tried.

He settled behind the wheel, hands precise on the steering wheel. Still, not a word. Not a glance. The engine hummed to life, and the car rolled forward into the quiet night

The drive home was silent. Not awkward just… measured. Neither of you spoke, and you didn’t need to.

After a few moments, he spoke, calm, precise: "Do you live far from here?"

You blinked, a little surprised, then answered carefully. "Not too far… maybe twenty minutes by walk."

"I see" he said, eyes on the road, tone even. "And do you live alone?"

You hesitated slightly, caught off guard by the directness. "Yes… just me."

He nodded once, slow, deliberate, as if noting it in his mind.

"I was meaning to ask you, sir… uh, I apologize if this sounds like I’m crossing a boundary, but I was wondering"

You hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words, there was brief silence between you. you hesitated to speak, before you finally manage to ask something

"You always stay up this late in the office, even after everyone else has gone. I’m sure you’re busy, and I understand that… but, uh, why every night? Don’t you take breaks? You already have management here, so I just don’t understand…"

A brief silence followed. Your stomach tightened, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d crossed a line by asking.

"I prefer to stay, to make sure everything is precisely in place" his voice steady and calm. "I’m sure my management team can handle it, but it’s better to have plenty of eyes rather than just a few."

There was a brief pause before he continued, his tone slightly softer. "And please, you don’t need to call me ‘sir.’ You can call me Gus."

You nodded, turning your gaze back to the road, still trying to process his answer. It made sense reasonable, even but you couldn’t help wondering… doesn’t he have someone? Family? Someone waiting for him at home? Curiosity got the better of you, and before you could stop yourself, you asked.

"Don’t you have someone at home?" you said, glancing toward him. “I’m sure they’d be happy to see you more often… rather than coming home late every night."

The words slipped out faster than you realized, and suddenly you were aware of how personal that sounded. You paused, your stomach tightening as you waited for a response but, none came. The silence that followed felt heavy, awkward.

" I… I apologize" you said quickly, nerves creeping in. "If I crossed a line… I didn’t mean to. I just… I ask too many questions sometimes… hahaha…" You forced your eyes back to the road, trying to shake off the tension.

Gus’s voice broke the quiet, calm and measured. "There’s no need to apologize. Your questions are acceptable."

He added, after a brief pause, "You may ask what you wish. There will be no offense taken."

"Thank you" you murmured softly. Another silence fell, but it felt… lighter this time, as though a subtle understanding had passed between you.

"This is my stop" you said, pointing toward your small but cozy apartment. The car slowed, then stopped.

You turned to him, a small smile forming. "Uh… thank you for the ride, Gus. I really appreciate it"

"Do not mention it" he said simply, eyes steady on the road ahead. "I am glad to assist."

You nodded, opening the car door and stepping out. "Good night, Gus" you waved lightly.

He inclined his head slightly. "Good night."

You watched as he started the car and drove away, leaving the street quiet behind him.

A day passed. The morning shift was as usual

Only today, Gus never showed up. That wasn’t unusual for a full day, but somehow it felt off. He always came by, even if just to check in.

You were taking orders, moving between tables, when out of the corner of your eye, you noticed another customer standing near the counter.

"Hi, sir. Welcome to Los Pollos Hermanos. What can I get for you?" you said, voice steady, though the tension in the room made your stomach twist.

Hector Salamanca’s eyes landed on you. "I want to see your boss."

You hesitated. "I'm sorry but, he’s not here today. I can maybe take a message"

"Call him. Now." His words were sharp, cutting through the chatter of the restaurant.

"Sorry?.."

"You call him. Right now."

The other customers began to notice. Whispers. Some stood, edging toward the door. A few tried to leave, but Hector’s men subtly blocked the exits. Fear rippled through the room.

"I’m sorry, there seems to-"

"CALL him. NOW!"

Hands shaking, you snatched the phone. Hector strolled a few steps back, pulling a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it. Smoke curled upward, thick and acrid.

You dialed, heart hammering, trying to stay calm. When you looked up, Hector was closer, the smoke clinging to him like a warning.

"Sir… you can’t smoking isn’t allowed here-"

He ignored you. Slowly, he stepped forward. Every employee moved back, he took a long drag, then exhaled, smoke brushing your face. You coughed, then, with terrifying suddenness, he grabbed your collar. His grip was iron.

"What a nice name you’ve got" he murmured, glancing at your nametag. "los perros tienen mejores nombres" (dogs have better names)

He shoved you aside, his presence still dominating the room, and walked toward Gus’s office.

The employees gathered, tense, forming a loose circle around each other scared not knowing what to do while other two Salamanca members surround them.

Hector sat in Gus’s chair like he owned it.

One leg was thrown over the desk. A cigarette burned lazily between his fingers, smoke curling toward the ceiling, he gave a short whistle.

You froze.

Then slowly, you pushed yourself up from the floor and walked in, one hand gripping your arm to stop it from shaking.

"Since you’re the only one talking here" Hector said, not even looking at you, "get me something to drink. Make yourself useful."

"Sir, I don’t think Mr. Fring allows-"

"I don’t care what he allows."

His eyes flicked up to you. Cold. Flat.

"Get me a drink."

You nodded quickly and hurried out. The soda machine hissed loudly as you filled the cup. Your hands trembled so badly the drink nearly overflowed.

You returned and placed it carefully on the desk in front of him.

He lowered his legs from the table, leaned forward, and took a slow sip, silence.

Then suddenly

"What kind of trash drink is this?" His voice was sharp now. Dangerous.

"I-I’m sorry. I can get you another" He took another drag of his cigarette.

"Clean it."

He nudged the empty cup toward you with the tip of his shoes.

You knelt down, hands sticky, heart pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it, just as you opened your mouth.

A voice spoke from behind you.

“Don Hector.”

You didn’t dare turn around. But you knew that voice, Hector leaned back slightly, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

Gus stepped forward, calm as ever, adjusting his tie, he looked down at you briefly.

"Please."

Just one word.

You understood immediately, you nodded, stood carefully, and walked out of the office without looking back leaving the door slightly open behind you.

(How would the characters be in a relationship)

Characters: Lalo Salamanca, Nacho Varga, Gustavo Fring

A/N: Requests are open ,for any other characters or from my masterlist fandoms 📬

MASTERLIST | ⚖️ DIVIDER CREDIT

✶ Lalo Salamanca

He’s intensely attentive. Notices everything about you your habits, your tone shifts, what you don’t say.

This man would tease living shit out of you "You don’t gotta pretend, cariño. I know you like it when I talk to you like this."

Calls you affectionate nicknames in Spanish. (if it wasnt obvious by now, he rarely would call you by your name)

Brings you little "souvenirs" from trips. Never tells you exactly where he got them.

Doesn’t apologize easily, but when he does, it’s direct: "Okay. I messed up." (he would buy you off anway)

Loves when you try to tell him what to do. He’ll raise an eyebrow like, "You sure about that?"

Watches you when you’re not paying attention. Not in a creepy way more like he’s memorizing you

If you’re sick or hurt, he hovers. Pretends he’s not worried, but he doesn’t leave your side.

Fixes things for you before you ask.

Would pull you onto his lap without breaking eye contact mid conversation.

if you're mad at him? he finds it entertaining at first. if you ignore him he’ll try to break your composure with quiet teasing, but if he realizes you’re genuinely hurt, the joking stops immediately

overall 🚩 + but softie in his twisted ways

✶ Natcho Varga

The kind of boyfriend who listens more than he speaks… and remembers everything you say.

Always positions himself between you and danger without even thinking about it.

Late night drives with no destination. One hand on the wheel, one resting on your thigh.

If you ever told him you were scared of losing him? It would wreck him. Because he’s scared of the same thing.

He won’t tell you everything, but he’ll tell you enough to not push you away.

Keeps one of your hair ties around his wrist without realizing it.

If you cry in front of him" Immediate panic.

"Hey… hey. What happened?" He wipes your tears with his thumb, stays calm even if he’s furious at whoever caused it.

His way if saying love you is only when he thinks you’re not fully awake, or it slips out by accident.

If you’re cooking and almost burn yourself, his reflexes are immediate, he will insist that he cooks or together.

Lowkey addicted to the way you say his name.

Likes when you sit near him while he works.

If you fall asleep on the couch, he carries you to bed.

✶ Gustavo Fring

In public, you are treated exactly the same as any employee, no lingering look, no favoritism. No softness, if anything, he’s stricter with you to avoid suspicion, the only clue something is different: he trusts you with information others don’t get

The faintest approving nod from him feels like winning a bingo.

Love, to Gus, is proven through protection, provision, and permanence, If something happens to him, you will be taken care of

Losing you would destabilize him more than he allows, that terrifies him.

When you’re angry at him he doesn’t react emotionally, he lets you speak, lets the silence stretch afterward. "Your concerns are valid." he does not apologize easily but he corrects behavior through action.

He refuses to let you be a weakness, he trains you subtly, teaches you awareness.

He texts or calls to confirm your location is safe, if you’re not responding, he doesn’t panic but he notices immediately, within minutes, he has verified your location without you realizing it.

Corrects your posture gently if you’re tense.

When you’re sick, he insists on handling everything, schedules cleared, soup made from scratch, medication timed precisely, he sits nearby, reading, but he checks your temperature more often than necessary.

The son x Reader (HEADCANNONS)

Art by : @/meipu_hm

ⓘ TW: Classic hotline miami violence, Possessive, Yanderish behavior, subtence abuse, slighty suggestive + (If I missed any tags let me know, please and thank you)

A/N: Requests are open for any other hotline miami character/s.

MASTERLIST | 💊 DIVIDER CREDIT

He’s naturally cold and reserved around most people, but with you, he softens a little.

Son is old fashioned when it comes to romance, he holds you a doors for you, he lightness your cigarette even if you never ask him to.

When it comes to nicknames/pet names he calls you: Babe, baby, honey, sweetheart, if he's feeling really cocky he'll call you котёнок (kitten), плохишка (rescle/bad girl).

(he doesn't call you by your name unless it's something very serious)

He likes whispering nicknames in Russian at random moments, sometimes mid chaos, just to make you confuse, not knowing what he's saying.

His actions and moods are hard to predict he might be brooding one moment, intensely protective the next.

Son doesn’t show jealousy outright, but there are small, possessive gestures that signal he’s not fond of others getting too close to you.

While he’s protective, The Son respects your independence. He knows you can handle yourself, so he won’t smother you with overbearing care, but he’ll still make sure you’re safe when necessary.

You'll hear him cuss daily in Russian, sometimes even muttering it under his breath.

He’s not emotionally expressive, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. He’s just not someone who knows how to put feelings into words, or even recognize them within himself.

He tracks where you go not out of distrust, but because the idea of losing you makes him feel physically sick.

if it wasn't obvious this guy has a huge attachment issues, he physically and mentally can't stand the fact that someone disappears on him.

Sometimes it would cross a line, if he sees you pulling away from him. he doesn’t beg. Instead, he starts planting quiet seeds of doubt:

"You think you’ll be safer out there?" "Do you think anyone else would risk their ass for for you, hm?"

Every word sounds gentle logical, even. He wants you to convince yourself to stay.

You often find half empty glasses scattered around the penthouse. He’ll mutter "I’m fine" even as his hands tremble lighting a cigarette. When you try to clean up, he gets defensive, then guilty, then silent.

When he’s deep in the haze, he gets talkative. You hear things he’d never say sober about his father, the violence, the loneliness, mosly sometimes in Russian too, he’ll slur, "You’re the only thing that feels

real,"before collapsing into sleep.

When he drinks, he gets quiet instead of sloppy. He’ll sit beside you, too close, breath warm with whiskey.

His voice drops lower than usual when he speaks, taking advantage of his Russian accent while telling you something.

Sometimes he’ll brush your lips with a fingertip or lean in like he’s about to kiss you but stops. He murmurs, low and breathless:

"Stay. Just stay… I’ll make it worth it."

He trusts you in moments when no one else can see him hungover, exhausted, or emotionally raw.

He leaves small, thoughtful things for you, money, cigarette, a note written in his jagged handwriting, he rarely says why, but the gesture itself feels intimate, like a secret language between just the two of you.

He “accidentally” ends up curled up next to you on the couch or bed, pretending he’s just tired, but secretly loves the closeness.

Even small arguments make him panic internally. He’ll do anything to make you stay, but his pride often keeps him from saying it.

After seeing friends or allies die, he can’t sleep or eat properly. You try to comfort him, but he shuts down, insisting he’s fine, even as he crumbles inside.

He isolates himself emotionally to "protect" you, but it leaves him lonely and desperate for your touch or voice, which he won’t ask for.