Adult Fandom Imagines

Breaking Bad; Gustavo Fring x Reader Part 1

"Get in the car, kid."

"Seriously, Mike, this has to be the stupidest thing you talked me into."

"Shut your mouth, kid. You won't think it's stupid when you get the payout," a small pause, then the man looks at you, his emotionless eyes squinting slightly to make sure you get the point, "You are the only one I can trust to do this. If you let me down, I swear I will bury you myself."

"Jesus, can I back out of this right fucking now?"

"Too late. Get in the damn car."

And you get inside. The dress fits tight onto your body, but the thigh-high slit gives you enough room to maneuver. You miss the feel of your gun at your hip, but Mike insisted that you leave it at home. No need for the gun where I'm taking you, he said, and it didn't make you feel any better about it.

The car's engine hums, filling in the silence between you, and your thoughts are restless inside your mind. You have known Michael Erhmantraut for the better part of a decade. He had been directly responsible for most of your income, though you have also taken other hustles on the side. But he always came to you with the most serious of deals. Nothing was ever simple with Mike. Especially when his employer was included as well.

Gustavo Fring was a man you have never met, but have heard a lot about. Mostly from Mike. And mostly bad things. He was il capo dei capi here in Albuquerque without anyone coming even close. The empire he built spanned decades and its workings were so well thought out that each one of the components had multiple fail-safes. You were supposed to be one of them now.

With the blue-meth business taking over the streets, Gustavo Fring seems to have gotten in with a man that turned out to be more serious than anyone gave him credit. Deadlier too. He was a loose cannon and Gustavo was slowly losing control. In order to regain it, he needed a second pair of eyes. Someone that would always be near him, following his every move, accompanying him to every event. Someone that would dispose of any inconveniences or take a bullet for him if need be. That, someone, was supposed to be you.

The money that the job brought was more than you would get to spend in a lifetime. You could freely retire after this job, buy a private island and spend your years in peace. If you were that sort of a person.

The truth is, you didn't take the job for the money. You didn't even take it because Mike brought it to you. You took it solely out of curiosity. Here's to hoping that it wouldn't kill the cat this time.

"We are here, get out," Mike's voice stirs you out of your thoughts.

"Always a gentleman," you shake your head and open the passenger's side doors, slowly placing your boots on the ground. It has been a while since you wore heels that high, but you haven't lost your touch.

Walking onto the driveway, then following the pavement to the front doors, you are a picture of elegance.

Mike rings the bell.

There is a moment of silence that stretches for long enough that you hear your heart drum in your ears. Huh, you haven't felt that kind of excitement in a while.

The doors open and you are greeted by the man you've seen many times before, but never actually met. He wears a smile that looks like it had been put on freshly just before he opened the doors.

"Good evening," Gustavo Frings greets you, and the emotionless in his eyes is enough to rival Mike's. There's a dangerous man, you notice, but you've met plenty of his kind before.

"Kid, this is Gus. Mr. Fring to you," Mike says as you enter the hallways and the doors close behind you, "Gus, this is y/n."

"It is very good to meet you, y/n," Gustavo replies, extending his hand for a handshake.

"And you, Mr. Fring," you reply, taking hold of his hand firmly, and letting go after a few seconds.

"Great," Mike interrupts, "I'll leave you to it. Behave yourself, kid," he warns you, before walking right back out.

"Not staying?" You ask, but the doors are already closed.

"I thought it best to discuss this in private," Gustavo answers your question and when you meet his eyes he is smiling again, "Please, if you would follow me," he says, gesturing down the hallway, "I hope you brought your appetite."

When you finally manage to get into the element, you are taken to the kitchen, left to find a spot for yourself, while Gustavo takes out a very large kitchen knife, that makes you give him a suspicious look at first, and starts chopping up the vegetables neatly laid out on the countertop. He works methodically and for the first five minutes, you are mesmerized by his practiced movements.

"Do you cook?" He asks and you notice that he's been observing you.

"Ah, no," you say, shrugging, "Every time I tried, I ended up almost burning my place down."

He chuckles, "Cooking calms me down."

Despite Mike's warnings that you should stay silent and wait until Gustavo Fring gives you the details of the job, you cannot sit still. Restless and overly curious, you open your mouth before thinking, "Why am I here, Mr. Fring?"

The chopping stops. The knife is laid down and the eyes behind glasses meet you. You hold his gaze.

"We will talk," he says calmly, "but first, you must eat."

It takes everything out of you not to ask a thousand questions before the dinner is done. It smells wonderful, you must admit. The guy is clearly a practiced cook and not just a franchise owner. He works with patience that you never learned and when the meal is complete you barely know where to start. Thankfully, he pours the soup to you first, then opens a bottle of wine. You hope that it is strong.

After pouring two glasses, he finally sits down, folding a handkerchief over his lap, eating as slowly and as carefully as he had prepared the meal. You follow suit, but your eyes flicker to the clock ticking on the wall of the dining room more times than you realize.

"Michael warned me that you are impatient," Gustavo breaks the silence when he finishes his soup, "but you seem to be trying your hardest," he smiles, "I appreciate that."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Fring. Mike hasn't told me any details, only a very silly premise of the job and I'm not sure that I believe him," you say, leaving your cutlery on the plate. The spices in the soup burn pleasantly down your throat.

"You are aware of the work I do. Behind the scenes," he says, "It has gotten unexpectedly complicated. I need someone I can trust with me at all times. Michael is there, but he cannot be seen with me publicly. This is where you come in, y/n."

"That sounds perfectly reasonable, Mr. Fring. The thing is, Mike told me that I would need to play the role of your girlfriend for the public."

"Fiance," he answers flatly.

A man his age is expected to have found someone by now, you remember Mike's explanation, You will suffice, kid.

"You will divert the attention from me, y/n. The public will turn a scrutinizing eye on you instead. And as I was informed, you are quite a mystery," Gustavo finishes.

"They will have to dig hard and long to find anything true about me," it's your turn to smile now, "I made sure of that a long time ago."