Jesse Pinkman x reader Imagines Fanfiction

@Livelovelaugh133's request. A short story called Addicted to You. Part 1

You had just moved to Albuquerque. You didn't really know the vibe or the town. All you knew was that your mom was addicted to drugs, and you needed to come and watch over her so that she didn't wind up accidentally killing herself. You picked up a small job at a local restaurant chain, working to pay the bills for your mom, who was often too drugged out to work. You didn't know much about drugs, just that you'd never end up like her. Since dad left, it was all she had. "How could someone just throw their life away like that?" you thought, as you walked into your mom's small apartment that smelled of weed, smoke, and chemicals.

"Hey, sweetie, did you bring my groceries?" she asked.

"Yeah, mom, no problem!" You called out. She came walking towards you. Ugh. She was getting thinner and thinner.

"What have you been taking now?" You asked, exasperated with her behavior. It's like she didn't even try to quit.

"What's it to you?" She asked defensively in her scraggly voice. After some hesitation, she looked at you, rolled her eyes, and said, "Well, if you must know, (Y/N), it's this blue stuff. Everyone in Albuquerque who knows drugs gets it. I can't get enough." She nodded over to a small bag of tiny blue crystals on the counter.

"Blue what?" You looked over and realized. "Meth."

"Mom, this is not ok!" You scolded.

"Out!" She yelled back.

"What -"

"Out! This is MY apartment! Yeah, you deliver stuff every once in a while, but I am YOUR mother. I do not need you telling ME how to run MY life!"

"But mom, please-"

"OUT!"

You grabbed your bag to leave. A note flew off the counter.

Jesse Pinkman. You turned it over, and there was a number on the back. You decided to keep it, and, as soon as you got back in your car, called it.

A rough voice picked up. "Hello?"

"Hi," you replied, your voice shaking. You had never spoken to a drug dealer before. "Can I meet you? I think I wanna, uh, speak with you..."

"Who, may I ask, is calling?"

You didn't know what to say. Then, you knew.

"A client. I think I have some money that may be of interest to you. I'd like to do business. Tomorrow."

And that was the beginning of your long, never-ending story with the infamous Jesse Pinkman.

The next day...

You arrived at the meeting spot. The Plaza in the middle of the day. You walked over to a bench and sat down. Soon, a quiet stranger with brownish-blondish hair sat next to you. He was wearing a thick oversized jacket and a black shirt, when it was hot as hell out. "What did he have to hide?"

You turned to him. "Excuse me, are you..."

"Jesse Pinkman, sweetheart. The one and only. Now, my question is, why does a nice girl like yourself wanna do business with a guy like me?" You opened your mouth to reply, but he kept talking. "Look, I already had that number saved in my phone. She is one of the people I sell to, ya know? So, who are you and why'd you call it, yo?"

"Okay, Mr. Pinkman..."

"Jesse, please, we don't need the formalities, okay?"

"Okay. Jesse, you're doing business with my mother, who is addicted to drugs. She...she doesn't need any more of that, (you quiet your voice to a whisper) blue meth. I'm just trying to help her. Please? She's having a hard time and can't see how much it's ruining her."