@blush-boulevard๏ฝ๐๐๐ช๐ฎ๐๐ฌ๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ซ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐๐ฌ๏ฝ๐ ๐ฐ๐ฟ๐ธ๐ฎ ๐๐ฉ๐ ๐ข๐ฐ๐ผ๐๐ธ๐ฟ๐ผ๐ฉ๐ธ๐ฎ๏ฝ๐ฎ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๏ฝ๐-๐น๐ธ๐น ๐๐ช๐ผ๐ฝ๐ฎ๐ป๐ต๐ฒ๐ผ๐ฝ๏ฝ๐ก๐ฎ๐ฐ๐พ๐ต๐ช๐ป ๐๐ช๐ผ๐ฝ๐ฎ๐ป๐ต๐ฒ๐ผ๐ฝ Bonjour, welcome to my blog!!! I'm a K-pop multi-stan and some fandoms I'm apart of are MOA, ARMY, and ENGENE. I really want to make some mutuals, so if you want to chat with me please send me a message here via inbox.
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๐๐๐ซ๐ญ๐ข๐ง ๐๐๐ฐ๐๐ซ๐๐ฌ ๐ฑ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ซ - You meet Martin one day while working a shift at the thrift store, and your love begins to bloom.
Female reader/ Martin Edwards x reader/ fluff/ romance/ Martin Edwards/ CORTIS/ COER/ one shot
The thrift store was never loud. Even on busy days, it had a steady kind of quiet, the soft clink of hangers, quiet indie music playing from the old speakers, the creak of the front door when someone came in. You liked it that way. You liked places where you didnโt have to talk unless you wanted to.
Working there meant sorting through old jackets and vintage graphic tees, fixing displays, and occasionally helping someone find something. You werenโt unfriendly, justโฆvery outgoing. You let people come to you.
So when a boy in a black hoodie walked in for the first time, head down, mask up, you didnโt think anything of it.
He lingered near the jewelry section, picking up rings like he wasnโt sure which one to get. You watched him for a minute before walking over quietly.
โYou canโฆ try them on,โ you said, voice soft but steady.
His head lifted a little, surprised. โOh. Uhโthanks.โ
You nodded and stepped back to give him space. But after a minute, he held up a silver ring.
โThis oneโs cool, right?โ
You blinked, not expecting him to ask. โYeah. Itโฆ suits you, I think.โ
He smiled under the mask, you could hear it in his voice. โOkay. Iโll take it.โ
He took it to the register and left quietly after that.
You didnโt expect him to return.
But he did.
A few days later, same hoodie, same soft presence. He browsed longer that time. The third time, he cracked a small comment, something about how thrift store mirrors were always either too honest or not honest enough. The fourth time, he asked if a band on one of the many band tees in the store was actually any good. Each visit, he lingered a little longer, got a little braver, but never overwhelming. He talked to you like he knew you didnโt like being pushed to talk, like he understood you preferred conversations that drifted in gently instead of crashing in.
Over time he started waiting for you outside after your shift, sitting on the curb with his hood up until you stepped out, surprised to see him there.
He stood fast the first time, hands raised slightly. โSorry, if this is like weird, I can stop.โ
โItโs not weird,โ you said quietly, hugging your cardigan tighter. โJustโฆ never had anyone wait for me after work before.โ
He nodded gently. โThereโs a cafรฉ near here. If you want something to eat.โ
You did want something to eat. So you went.
That became its own little ritual. Youโd sit in the corner seat together, sometimes talking about music or fashion or random things heโd seen online. Other days, neither of you talked much at all, and that was okay. He never made you feel like your quietness was something to apologize for. He actually seemed to like it, like it grounded him.
It took you longer than it should have to realize he was Martin from the up and coming kpop group, Cortis. He never brought it up, never mentioned who he was. He just existed gently beside you, a boy who liked thrift stores, good food, and the way you tucked your hands into your sleeves.
One evening he came in just before closing. The shop was mostly empty, the sun fading outside. He leaned against the counter while you tagged graphic tees.
โYou work a LOT of shifts here, for just a part time job,โ he said softly.
You shrugged a little. โI like it here. Itโฆ calms me.โ
He nodded without teasing. โYeah. I get that.โ
You didnโt know that he went straight to the studio after that. Didnโt know that he sat at his desk, notebook open, staring at a blank page for ten minutes before finally scribbling down the first lyric that reminded him of you. He didnโt realize how obvious it was until Keonho leaned over his shoulder.
They were listening to a demo for another song, when Juhoon grabbed his notebook and read the lyrics out loud before Martin could snatch it back.
The room exploded.
โBro.โ
โMARTIN.โ
โSince when do you write about someoneโs style?โ
โAnd their eyes?โ
โAnd the way someone fidgets?!โ
โThis is literally a love poem.โ
Martin turned red instantly. โGive it back.โ
โYouโre in love,โ James declared proudly. โThis is the softest thing youโve ever written, what is going ON?โ
โWHO IS SHE?โ Seonghyeon demanded.
Martin groaned, covering his face. โNobody.โ
They didnโt believe him for a second. They teased him for the next hour, poking at him every time he tried to explain it was nothing. Eventually they all ended up helping him work on the melody of the song anyway, even while laughing at him.
And he let them.
Because they were right. You had made him write differently, softer, slower, more honest.
He tried not to think about showing it to you. He wasnโt sure heโd ever be brave enough.
But life rarely waited for courage.
A few nights later, after youโd flipped the shopโs sign to CLOSED, there was a light knock on the glass. You turned, expecting maybe a customer who didnโt read the hours. But it was him, hood up, mask down this time, eyes nervous.
You unlocked the door. โEverything okay?โ
He nodded, stepping inside with a shaky breath. โI, umโฆ have something I wanted you to listen to. If youโฆ want to hear it, that is .โ
You walked over to the little bench by the window where people usually sat to try on shoes. He sat beside you, close enough to feel the warmth of him but not close enough to crowd.
โItโs a demo,โ he said quietly. โA song. The guys helped with it a little. And uhโฆ itโs about you.โ
Your heart dropped and fluttered all at once. โAboutโฆ me?โ
He nodded, staring at his phone like he was terrified of your reaction. โI didnโt know if I should show you. Iโm not reallyโฆ good at this stuff.โ
You swallowed. โI want to hear it.โ
So he pressed play.
The melody was simple and warm, soft guitar, a quiet beat behind it. His voice was gentle, almost hesitant. The lyrics were tiny pieces of you, your outfits, the way you leaned against the counter when you got tired, the way you kept your voice soft even when you were upset, the way the silence felt different with you.
He didnโt look at you the entire time the song played.
When it ended, you stared at the floor, your breath caught somewhere between your chest and your throat.
He finally whispered, voice trembling, โIf itโs too muchโฆ or if you donโt feel the sameโฆ itโs okay. I just wanted you to know.โ
You looked up at him, and there was something warm and certain sitting in your chest, something that didnโt feel as shy as you thought you were.
โI like it,โ you murmured. โAnd I like you. A lot.โ
He sucked in a breath. โYou do?โ
You nodded slowly. โYeah.โ
He didnโt move closer. He waited, hesitant, careful, respectful, like he didnโt want to cross a line you didnโt draw.
So you leaned in first.
Your lips met his softly, almost tentative, like testing the feeling. He kissed you just as gently back, one hand lifting to your cheek but stopping halfway as if asking permission. When you leaned in more, his fingers brushed your skin, warm and trembling.
The kiss deepened only slightly, still slow, still soft, still completely you. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath unsteady.
โYou have no idea,โ he whispered, โhow long Iโve wanted to do that.โ
You curled your fingers into the sleeve of his hoodie, tugging him just a little closer. โI think I do.โ
His smile was small, real, and warm enough to light the quiet shop around you.
And sitting there on the worn thrift-store bench with the neon sign humming outside, the world didnโt feel overwhelming or loud. It just felt safe. And simple. And new.
He stayed until the lights dimmed, talking softly with you in the dark store, like the whole city had gone quiet just for the two of you.
๐๐ ๐๐๐ฒ๐๐๐ง๐ค ๐ฑ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ซ - You overhear people gossiping that JJ could โdo betterโ than you. You cry, JJ finds you, and he reassures you in that raw, emotional way only he can.
Female reader/ JJ Maybank x reader/ fluff/ romance/ Hurt/ Comfort/ JJ Maybank/ Outer Banks/ OBX/ Character x reader/ one shot
You hadnโt meant to hear it. You were just stepping out of the kitchen at the party, clutching your soda, when two girls leaned in near the counter, giggling.
โI donโt get it,โ one of them whispered, not quiet enough. โJJ Maybank with her? He could do so much better.โ
The other snorted. โSheโsโฆ fine. But heโs JJ. He flirts with everyone. I bet heโs just messing around.โ
Your chest caved in like someone had reached inside and squeezed.
You hurried outside before the tears welled too much, slipping around the side of the house where no one would follow. The music thumped through the walls, but out here it was just you, the humid night air, and the lump rising in your throat. You sank down on the porch step, clutching your cup, tears spilling despite how hard you tried to blink them back.
The thought rooted in your mind, ugly and poisonous: What if theyโre right? What if Iโm just not enough? What if he wakes up one day and realizes it?
โPrincess?โ
Your head snapped up, panic wiping your tears clumsily with the sleeve of your sweater. JJ was standing a few feet away, brows drawn together, his usual cocky smirk nowhere in sight. He tilted his head, eyes flicking over your face.
โWhatโs wrong?โ he asked, softer now.
โN-Nothing,โ you stammered, forcing a smile that didnโt even convince you.
JJ crouched down in front of you, resting his arms on his knees, searching your eyes like he could dig the truth out of you. His voice was low, firm, but gentle in that JJ way: โDonโt lie to me, baby. Youโve been crying.โ
That was all it took for your wall to crumble. You dropped your gaze, whispering, โI heard some people talking. Aboutโฆ us. About me.โ Your voice cracked. โThey said you could do better. That youโre just messing around with me. And I justโโ A sob slipped out before you could stop it. โWhat if theyโre right, J? What if one day you wake up and realize Iโm not enough?โ
For a long second, silence. Your breath shook, your hands twisting in your lap. And thenโJJโs hands cupped your face, rough thumbs brushing away your tears. His voice was raw, steady, but trembling with the force of it.
โDonโt you ever say that again,โ he rasped. โDonโt you ever think that. You hear me?โ
You nodded weakly, but he shook his head, blue eyes blazing. โNo. Look at me.โ You met his gaze, and he leaned closer, forehead brushing yours. โYouโre it for me, princess. The only one. You think I care what people say? I donโt want better. I donโt even believe in better. I just want you.โ
Tears slipped down again, but this time softer, less heavy. JJ kissed them away, lips pressing your cheeks, your temple, your jaw.
โYouโre my home,โ he murmured. โYouโre my safe place. Youโre the only person who makes me feel like Iโm worth something. And I swear to God, if you could see yourself the way I see youโฆ youโd never doubt it for a second.โ
Your breath hitched, and you buried your face against his chest, clutching his shirt like youโd fall apart without it. JJ wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight, his chin resting in your hair.
โLet them talk,โ he whispered fiercely. โAs long as Iโm breathing, youโre mine. And I wouldnโt trade you for the whole damn world.โ
You sat there in the quiet, wrapped in his hoodie and his arms, the rest of the party fading away.
And for the first time that night, you believed him.
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The night at the chateau had stretched later than you meant it to. The pogues were still half-shouting at each other over cards, John B trying to cheat, Pope catching him every time, and Kie rolling her eyes. JJ was sprawled across the couch beside you, one arm draped over the back, a lazy grin tugging at his mouth as he tossed in comments just to rile Pope up.
Youโd been fighting it, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier, the warmth of JJโs shoulder brushing yours making it impossible to keep upright. At some point, you justโฆ gave up.
When JJ glanced over at you, ready to make some dumb remark about how Pope couldnโt shuffle to save his life, his words caught in his throat.
You were curled up against the couch cushion, lashes resting on your cheeks, your lips parted in the softest little pout.
JJ blinked, stunned for a second. Then without thinking his grin softened into something only the walls of the chateau got to see.
โWell, damn,โ he whispered to himself.
He shifted, careful not to wake you, and tugged the blanket off the back of the couch. He tucked it around your shoulders gently, like you might shatter if he wasnโt careful. You stirred just a little, nose scrunching at the sound of the poker chips clattering, and instinctively you leaned toward him.
JJ froze, then melted completely, biting down on a smile.
โMy little sleepy princess,โ he muttered under his breath, shaking his head like he couldnโt believe it.
He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering just a second too long. You smelled like vanilla, like your room, like the lotion you always carried in your bag. He swallowed hard, his chest tight with something that wasnโt just affection, but wasnโt far from love either.
โYou have no idea what you do to me,โ he murmured.
The game carried on without either of you. Kie shot him a knowing look, but didnโt say anything. JJ just leaned back, pulling you gently so your head rested on his chest, his hoodie wrapped around you like armor.
You didnโt wake up when he pressed a feather-light kiss to the top of your head.
And JJ Maybank, wild card of the Outer Banks, stayed perfectly still all night long, just so his princess could sleep.
๐๐ ๐๐๐ฒ๐๐๐ง๐ค ๐ฑ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ซ - JJ spends the little money he has to spoil you, buying you small gifts and treating you like his princess. When he surprises you with an expensive gift, you break down in tears, feeling guilty that he spends so much on you. JJ comforts you, reminding you that he wants to spoil you and that seeing you happy is worth more than anything he owns.
Female reader/ JJ Maybank x reader/ fluff/ romance/ Comfort/ JJ Maybank/ Outer Banks/ OBX/ Character x reader/ one shot
Not in the flashy, high-end way Kooks do, with credit cards and shiny jewelry and dates in places where you feel out of place. No, JJ spoils you in his way. Messy, thoughtful, fiercely loyal.
He gives you the hoodie off his back, literally. He picks you wildflowers that match your favorite lip gloss. He brings you gas station candy with little sticky notes taped to them that say things like โFor my sweet girlโ in his messy handwriting.
And when he has even a little money, he spends it on you.
You hate it.
Not because you donโt love the things he gives you, you do. Itโs justโฆ you know what it costs him.
You know JJ doesnโt have much. You know he works harder than he lets on, sometimes taking odd jobs with sketchy guys down on the Cut just to scrape something together. And still, he walks into your room like heโs won the lottery if he found you a new satin hair bow in your favorite color or a mini bottle of vanilla perfume โโcause it smelled like you, baby.โ
So when he shows up at your door one afternoon, golden hair messy from his bike ride and a paper bag in his hands, you already feel that pang in your stomach.
โJJโฆโ you say cautiously.
He grins like a little kid. โDonโt worry, princess. This oneโs special.โ
You let him in, sitting cross-legged on your bed while he settles beside you and pulls out a box. A box of flowers knows products.
You blink. โJJ. Thisโฆ This is the expensive one.โ
โI know,โ he shrugs, handing it to you with both hands. โItโs the one you always talk about but never buy. Figured my girl deserves pretty things.โ
โJJ, this is likeโฆ 800 dollars,โ you whisper, horrified. โYou donโt even have money forโโ
โDonโt care,โ he cuts you off gently. โSaw your face when you looked at it last time we were out. And you always do that thing where you act like you donโt want it, even though I know you do.โ
You shake your head, holding the box like itโs something dangerous. โI canโt let you do this. You shouldnโt spend your money on me.โ
JJโs smile fades. โWhy not?โ
โBecause you barely have enough for yourself, JJ,โ you say, voice cracking. โAnd every time you do this, it just makes me feel worse.โ
He looks at you. Really looks. And when he sees the tears starting to prick in your eyes, his heart breaks.
โOh, babyโฆโ
You sniff, curling your fingers tighter around the edges of the box. โIโm sorry. I justโYouโre always giving and giving and I feel like I donโt give anything back.โ
JJโs already moving. He slides in closer, pulling you into his chest without hesitation, his arms wrapping around you like a blanket. His voice is quiet, but firm.
โYou give me everything, sweetheart.โ
You try to protest, but he cuts you off again, resting his chin on top of your head.
โYou give me peace. You give me softness. You let me hold you and take care of you. Thatโs all Iโve ever wanted.โ
You cling to him tighter, face hidden in the crook of his neck.
โI just donโt want to be a burden.โ
He pulls back, just enough to cup your cheeks in his hands. โDonโt say that,โ he says. โDonโt ever say that. Youโre not a burden, youโre a blessing.โ
You sniff, eyes still wet. โBut the makeupโฆโ
โI wanted to get it for you,โ he says. โBecause youโre my girl. And I like doing stuff for you. I want you to have things. I want you to feel like a princess every damn day.โ
You look down at the box of flower knows makeup resting on the blanket.
โItโs really pretty,โ you murmur.
JJ kisses your forehead. โSo are you.โ
You finally laugh, just a little.
โTell you what,โ he grins. โYou wear that new blush next time we go out, and Iโll feel like a million bucks. Deal?โ
You nod slowly.
Then you whisper, โCan I still cry a little though?โ
JJ chuckles and kisses your nose. โYou can cry all you want, baby. Iโll be right here kissing away your tears..โ
๐๐๐ฅ ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐ฑ ๐ซ๐๐๐๐๐ซ - When you come down with a high fever and try to hide it so Sal wonโt worry, he shows up anyway, arms full of medicine, soup, and a teddy bear, determined to take care of you.
Female reader/ Sal fisher x reader/ fluff/ romance/ Sal Fisher/ Sallyface Game/ Character x reader/ one shot
Word Count: 725
{I'm really sorry that it took me so long to write your request. I was really busy with band camp, and then I got a fever from overworking ๐ญ}
The pounding in your head had started that morning, a dull throb behind your eyes that only got worse. You chalked it up to poor sleep, maybe dehydration. But by midday, your body felt like it had been hit by a truck, achy, burning hot, and weak all over.
Still, you didnโt want to worry Sal. Heโd been so busy lately, band practice, classwork, helping Todd with some weird contraption in the basement, you didnโt want to be the thing that pulled his attention away. So you told him you were โjust tired,โ decided to take a small nap, and left your phone charging on your nightstand.
You didnโt realize it had been hours since you last messaged him.
โ
Sal sat cross-legged on his bed, fiddling with the ring you got him for his birthday on his finger and checking his phone again. No new messages. No updates. You never went this long without at least a heart emoji or some sleepy text telling him you'd dozed off.
His gut twisted. You always answered. Even if it was a one-word reply, you never left him in silence.
Without thinking twice, Sal grabbed his keys and hoodie, threw on his boots, and jogged down the familiar halls of Addison Apartments to your floor. He knocked gently on your door at first, then a little harder. โY/N?โ he called, voice already tinged with worry. โItโs me.โ
No answer.
His heart dropped as he tried the knob. It was unlocked.
The apartment was quiet, dark, the curtains drawn. Your phone glowed dimly on your nightstand, untouched. And there you were, bundled up in a mountain of blankets, face flushed red and glistening with sweat, your breath shallow.
โShit,โ Sal whispered under his breath, rushing to kneel beside you. He brushed a trembling hand across your forehead and instantly recoiled at how hot you were.
Your eyes fluttered open slightly. โSalโฆ?โ
โHey, hey,โ he said softly, trying to keep his voice calm. โWhy didnโt you tell me you had a fever?โ
You gave him the tiniest shrug. โDidnโt wanna worry youโฆโ
Sal let out a breath that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. โSweetheart, Iโm your boyfriend, it's my job to worry about you. Iโll be right back, okay? Donโt move.โ
โ
When he returned, his arms were full,cough medicine, two cans of soup, lemon tea, a pack of electrolyte drinks, and nestled between it allโฆ a soft, caramel-colored teddy bear with a baby pink bow around its neck.
Sal slipped his shoes off at the door, set everything on the table, and came back to your side. โAlright,โ he said gently, helping you sit up just enough to sip some water and take the medicine. โNow, I know this might be little cheesy, butโโ
He held out the teddy bear, his voice going soft. โI saw this little guy and thoughtโฆ if I canโt be here every second, maybe he can be.โ
Your heart melted instantly.
โSalโฆโ you whispered, hugging the plush to your chest with trembling arms. It smelled faintly of the drugstore and the citrusy cologne he always wore.
โI named him Bearington,โ he said, sitting beside you and smoothing your hair back. โDonโt fight me on it.โ
You laughed, weak and hoarse, and leaned your head into his shoulder. He gently slid into bed behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you curled into him, Bearington squished between your chest and the blankets.
โYouโre gonna get sick,โ you murmured sleepily, already drifting.
โProbably,โ Sal whispered, resting his chin on your shoulder. โBut at least Iโll be sick with the prettiest girl in the building.โ
You smiled despite the fever. โYouโre ridiculous.โ
โAnd youโre adorable,โ he replied, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. โGet some rest, okay? Iโll be here when you wake up.โ
You nodded, nuzzling your face against his arm.ย
He held you close as the night slipped by, occasionally adjusting your blankets, brushing your hair back, whispering little things to keep you grounded. You were burning up, but his touch was cool, steady, a comfort in the storm.
As your breathing evened out and your fever started to break, Sal let his eyes close too, arms still wrapped around you.
And Bearington stood guard over you both, tucked safely between the people who needed each other most.ย
๐๐๐ฅ ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐ฑ ๐ซ๐๐๐๐๐ซ - Youโre wrapped up in Salโs favorite hoodie, teasing him about โstealingโ it while he teases you right back. Between soft touches, warm cuddles, and a kiss on the cheek, the two of you share a tender moment that reminds you just how safe and loved you feel in his arms.
Female reader/ Sal fisher x reader/ fluff/ romance/ Sal Fisher/ Sallyface Game/ Character x reader/ one shot
Youโre curled up on Salโs bed in a hoodie thatโs definitely not yours. Itโs his: oversized, soft, and just a little worn-in, with the sleeves swallowing your hands and the faint scent of his cologne clinging to the fabric.
Heโs sitting cross-legged in front of you, blue streaks in his hair a little messy, a smudge of charcoal on his wrist from earlier sketches. His mask is on the desk, and his real face is warm and open in the soft lamplight.
โYou know you canโt just steal my hoodie every time you come over,โ he says, though he doesnโt sound like he really minds.
You grin, tugging the sleeves over your fists. โSays who?โ
He reaches forward and flicks one of the sleeves playfully. โSays the guy who hasnโt seen his favorite hoodie in a week.โ
You shrug. โIt looks better on me.โ
His lips twitch into a smile as he studies you, the way the hoodie dwarfs your frame, the way your knees are pulled to your chest, the slight shine of your lip gloss in the light.
โYouโve got something here,โ Sal says gently, reaching out and brushing his thumb beneath your bottom lip.
Your breath catches, just for a moment, at the softness of the touch.
โItโs my lip gloss,โ you whisper.
โI like it,โ he murmurs. โLooks good on you.โ
You scoot closer on the bed until your knees bump his.
โI like this on me too,โ you say, tugging the fabric again. โMakes me feel like youโre hugging me, even when youโre not.โ
He blinks, a little stunned by the way you say it, then shifts forward and wraps his arms around you. No hesitation.
โYou donโt have to borrow my clothes for that,โ Sal whispers into your hair. โIโll always be here.โ
You rest your head against his shoulder, letting yourself melt into him. His arms are warm around the hoodie, holding you close, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on your back.
Then, quietly, you lift your head, and before either of you can overthink it, you press a soft kiss to his cheek.
Sal goes still.
You pull back just enough to see the way color floods his face, pink blooming across his cheeks, especially the one you kissed.
He swallows, then meets your gaze, a lopsided, lovesick smile tugging at his lips.
โI think I just fell in love with you all over again,โ he says softly.
๐๐๐ฅ ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐ฑ ๐ซ๐๐๐๐๐ซ - You and Sal sneak out and hit the drive-thru in his car late at night. You split fries and share sleepy affection.
reader/ Sal fisher x reader/ fluff/ romance/ Sal Fisher/ Sallyface Game/ Character x reader/ one shot
Youโre already half-asleep when your phone buzzes on your nightstand. You grope for it blindly, your eyes squinting at the screenโs glow.
Sal:
โCanโt sleep. Wanna go get fries?โ
You smile instantly, thumbing back a reply:
โOnly if I get to wear your hoodie.โ
Not even ten seconds later:
โI'm outside. Itโs already in the seat waiting for you.โ
-------------
The air outside is cool and quiet, the kind that smells like pavement and damp leaves. You slip into the passenger seat of Salโs car, and there it is, his navy blue hoodie, folded on the seat like a love letter written in fabric.
โYouโre unbelievable,โ you mumble, tugging it over your head. Itโs warm and oversized and smells like his cologne and fabric softener. It swallows you whole.
Sal smiles as he leans over and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. โYouโre cute when youโre sleepy.โ
โAnd youโre lucky I love you,โ you mumble, curling your legs onto the seat. โBecause I was very comfortable in bed.โ
โBut not as comfortable as when youโre with me,โ he says with a wink, pulling away from the curb.
You scoff, but your cheeks are warm, and his fingers reach across the console to find yours. You lace them together wordlessly.
The streets are quiet, painted gold by the occasional flicker of a streetlight. You drive in comfortable silence, your thumb stroking the back of his hand, the low hum of his car stereo playing something gentle in the background.
By the time you reach the drive-thru, your head is leaning against his shoulder.
โWhat do you want, babe?โ Sal asks softly, nudging your forehead with his chin.
โFries,โ you murmur. โAnd a vanilla milkshake.โ
He orders for you both, throwing in an extra apple pie because he knows you always say you donโt want one but end up stealing his.
The moment you pull into the empty lot and park, youโre already reaching for the bag. Sal hands it to you with a smirk while removing his prosthetic.
โDid you just use me for fries?โ he teases.
You take a bite of one. โYou have something better to offer?โ
Sal sets his milkshake in the cupholder and leans in, brushing a soft kiss over your lips. โI mean, the fries are pretty goodโฆ but Iโm told I give top-tier forehead kisses.โ
โOh yeah?โ you whisper, heart stuttering a little.
Without a word, Sal tucks a loose piece of hair behind your ear and presses a slow, gentle kiss to your forehead. His thumb lingers on your cheek as he pulls back just enough to see your face.
You melt.
Maybe itโs the hour, or maybe itโs just him, but everything feels slow and tender and right.
โYou know,โ you murmur, โyou couldโve just climbed into bed with me.โ
โYeah, but then I couldnโt see your face lit up by drive-thru lights while you stuff fries in your mouth.โ
You laugh softly, leaning your head on his shoulder. He rests his cheek against your hair and lets out a quiet sigh, like all the tension in his chest finally let go.
โI love you,โ Sal whispers.
You close your eyes, warmth blooming in your chest. โI love you more.โ
โImpossible,โ he says, voice barely audible.
And there, in a quiet parking lot at 2:19 a.m., tangled in a hoodie that doesnโt belong to you and fingers that do, you both stay, soft, sleepy, and in love.
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๐๐๐ฅ ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐ฑ ๐ซ๐๐๐๐๐ซ - You call Sal in the middle of the night after waking up from a bad dream. He sneaks over to comfort you, bringing one of your plushies that you left at his apartment, and staying by your side until morning.
Female reader/ Sal fisher x reader/ fluff/ romance/ Comfort/ Sal Fisher/ Sallyface Game/ Character x reader/ one shot
Word Count: 551
{ Thank you all so much for all the support I've been getting on my fics. It really has encouraged me to be more consistent with my writing. ๐}
Itโs just after 2:00 a.m. when you wake up with a sharp gasp, chest tight, heart pounding. The room is dark and still, but it feels like the dream is clinging to the corners, like something awful is still watching you from the shadows.
You sit up slowly, wrapping your arms around yourself. You feel cold even though your blanket is still draped over your lap. Your hands tremble slightly as you reach for your phone.
You stare at the screen for a while before you finally type:
โAre you up?โ
Thereโs a short pause. Then:
โYeah. Whatโs wrong?โ
You hesitate, fingers hovering.
โJustโฆ a nightmare. Iโm okay, just kinda shaken up.ย ย
A moment passes.
Then:
โStay there. Iโll be right down.โ
You blink at the screen, the typing bubble disappearing.
Before you even have time to fully process it, you hear quiet footsteps in the hallway and a soft knock at your door.
You open it to find Sal, hair messy, hoodie sleeves pulled down over his hands, a familiar stuffed animal tucked under one arm.
He doesnโt say anything at first, just gives you a once-over, taking in your red-rimmed eyes and the way youโre still hugging yourself.
Without a word, he gently opens his arms.
You step into them.
Sal wraps himself around you like heโs done a hundred times before. One arm stays around your back while the other rubs slow circles between your shoulder blades. Yourย bunny plushie, Toast, gets squished between you both.
โWanna talk about it?โ he mumbles into your hair.
You shake your head. โJust want to not think about it.โ
โThat works too,โ he says softly.
You both shuffle back into your room. Sal quietly shuts the door behind you and switches on your nightlight, filling the space with a soft amber glow.
You climb into bed and lift the blanket invitingly. He doesnโt even hesitate, just hands Toast to you and slips beneath the covers, leaving a comfortable bit of space between you.
It lasts maybe ten seconds.
Then you scoot closer. Just a little.
Salโs arm moves like instinct, curling gently around your waist and tugging you toward him. You end up tucked beneath his chin, your forehead pressed against the soft cotton of his hoodie.
Heโs warm and steady. His thumb brushes the fabric of your shirt absentmindedly, grounding you.
โYouโre shaking,โ he whispers. โYou donโt have to be scared. Iโm right here.โ
You bury your face against his chest, letting your hand settle on his side.
โYouโre really good at this,โ you mumble.
โAt cuddling?โ
โAtโฆ making me feel better.โ
You feel his laugh more than you hear it, a quiet puff of air against your hair.
โWell, thatโs only fair,โ Sal murmurs. โYou kinda make me feel like things donโt suck so much either.โ
Your cheeks heat, but heโs already nuzzling into your hair like itโs the most natural thing in the world.
โIโm not going anywhere,โ he says. โYou can fall asleep. Iโll watch over you, okay?โ
And you do. Slowly, wrapped in his arms, with Toast squished between your chests and his breath warming the top of your head, you drift off, feeling safe and soft and protected.
Just before sleep fully takes you, you think you hear him whisper:
๐๐๐๐! ๐๐๐ญ๐๐ซ ๐๐๐ซ๐ค๐๐ซ ๐ฑ ๐๐จ๐๐ญ! ๐๐๐๐๐๐ซ - Itโs been a year since Gwen died, and Peter is still closed off. Youโre the new neighbor who always smiles at him, even when heโs quiet. Slowly, you crack through his grief, not by fixing him, but by giving him something worth holding onto again.
Female Reader/ Soft! Reader/ TASM! Peter Parker x Reader/ Hurt/ Comfort/ Angst/ Fluff/ Romance/ TASM/ Peter Parker/ oneshot
You notice him right away, even before you speak to him. Thereโs something heavy about the boy who lives next door, the way he moves like heโs always bracing for impact, or maybe like heโs just crawled out of a grave.
He keeps his hood up most of the time, hair barely visible beneath the fabric, and his footsteps in the hallway are soft, quiet, almost ghostlike. You pass him once on the stairs, clutching a basket of clean laundry and trying not to make eye contact, and he only offers you a nod, just a tilt of his head, no words. Still, your heart stutters. Not because heโs handsome, though he is, in that quiet, poetic sort of way. But because thereโs something broken in his eyes. And broken things have always made your chest ache in the worst kind of way.
You learn his routine before you even realize that youโre paying attention.
He never turns on his lights at night. Instead, a flicker of blue from a laptop screen glows through his curtains until nearly dawn. You hear him pacing at strange hours. Sometimes thereโs music: sad, mournful songs like heโs going through something rough. And other nights, when you press your ear to your pillow and the apartment feels too still, you hear him talking quietly to himself. Words you canโt make out. Maybe names.
Sometimes you want to knock on his door. Just to ask if heโs okay. But youโre not exactly the type whoโs good at that sort of thing. Youโve always been a little shy, a little soft around the edges, all quiet glances and polite smiles. So instead, you watch him from your window, peeking behind your sheer white curtains like youโre in some black-and-white film and heโs the mystery next door.
Then, one night, it rains.
Hard.
Youโre curled up in a blanket on your sofa, the kind with little eyelet trim that your grandmother gave you, and youโre sipping peppermint tea out of a pink porcelain mug. Your fairy lights are on, and thereโs a sleepy kind of peace in the room, until you hear the balcony door next door slide open.
You peek through the curtain and see him standing in the downpour.
Peter.
Thatโs his name. You heard the mailman say it once.
Heโs soaked, hoodie clinging to his shoulders, curls dark and matted against his forehead. He doesnโt even flinch when the thunder cracks. He just leans on the railing like heโs waiting for the sky to wash something off him. And then, your breath catches, he crumples forward, gripping the railing so tightly his knuckles go pale. His chest jerks once. Then again. Heโs crying.
You donโt even realize your fingers are tightening around your mug until the ceramic creaks.
Part of you wants to run out there, drag him in by the hand, offer him warmth and sugar cookies and whatever kindness might still exist in this too-cruel world. But instead, you just stand there in the shadows, watching. Because youโre not sure he wants to be seen. Because you know grief like that can swallow a person whole, and the last thing it wants is witnesses.
When he finally turns and disappears inside, he leaves the balcony door open.
You donโt sleep that night, not really. You lie on your side, facing the wall, trying to imagine what kind of pain lives in a boyโs chest when he cries like that in the rain.
The next day, you bake.
Nothing fancy, just warm chocolate chip cookies, soft in the middle, the way your mom always made them. You pack a few onto a pink plate and wrap it in cling film. You stare at the door for a long time. Then, barefoot and trembling just a little, you walk across the hall and knock.
He opens the door slower than you expect, like maybe he was asleep or deep in thought. He looks surprised to see you. He blinks, eyes red-rimmed but wide and kind. โHi,โ he says, voice rough.
You hold out the plate and try not to look too nervous. โI made too many. Thought you might want some.โ
Thereโs a long pause. You worry for a second that heโs going to say no, that this was a mistake, that you were being too much. But instead, he steps back. Just a little. Just enough.
โDo you wanna come in?โ
His apartment is small and quiet. A little messy, but lived-in. There are books everywhere, on the coffee table, the armchair, even the floor. And photos. Framed and unframed, tucked into the edges of mirrors. You spot a picture of him with a girl. Blonde. Smiling, holding his hand.
You donโt ask. You donโt need to.
You sit on the floor with him, the plate between you. He eats slowly, like he hasnโt tasted anything sweet in a long time. You donโt talk much. Just watch a black-and-white movie on mute while the rain taps lightly on the window.
It becomes a thing.
Not all at once, but slowly, gently, like a new bloom in spring. He knocks on your door one night when he canโt sleep. You offer him a blanket and a quiet smile. Another time, you find a note slipped under your door, just one sentence written in neat, slanted handwriting: โThanks for not asking questions.โ
You keep making cookies. He starts bringing coffee. You learn that he likes his black, no sugar. You tell him you hate the sound of thunder, and he starts carrying earplugs for you, just in case.
Eventually, he tells you about her.
Not all at once. In pieces.
Her name was Gwen.
He doesnโt say how she died. You donโt press. But the way he says her name, like a prayer, like a wound, itโs enough to understand she meant everything.
You touch his hand when he says it. Just a brush. Soft. Barely there. He doesnโt pull away.
โDo you think itโs possible,โ he says one night, cuddled up against you, voice barely above a whisper, โto carry someone with you, but still make room for something new?โ
You look up at him, heart trembling. โI thinkโฆ people like that never really leave you. But youโre allowed to feel again. Youโre allowed to smile again.โ
His eyes shine. He nods, slowly, and then leans forward, resting his forehead gently against yours. Your breath catches, but you donโt move. You let him be close.
He kisses you once.
Softly. Tenderly. Like heโs afraid you might vanish.
You donโt.
You stay.
And somehow, without quite meaning to, you become the first piece of light heโs let in since everything went dark.
๐๐จ๐ก๐๐ญ๐ฌ๐ฎ ๐๐จ๐ค๐จ๐ซ๐จ ๐ฑ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ซ - You and Kokoro were inseparable until you confessed to him right before he moved away to train in Tokyoโฆ and he never gave you an answer. Years later, he returns with PSYCHIC FEVER for a show in your hometown and asks to see you again.
female reader/ Kohatsu Kokoro x reader/ fluff/ romance/ PSYFE/ PSYCHIC FEVER/ ForEVER/ KOKORO/ one shot
The first time you saw his face, your breath caught in your throat.
It was a poster of the J-Pop Group that he had debuted in called PSYCHIC FEVER. The group would be coming to your hometown to perform.ย
You stared at it for longer than you shouldโve.
Kokoro. Back in town. After three years.
You hadnโt spoken since he left for Tokyo, since the night you stood beneath the rusted overpass in the rain and confessed everything. Your feelings. Your fear. Your heart.
He never gave you an answer.
He just left.
You told yourself youโd moved on. But now, standing in the backroom of the Dance studio as the rain started tapping against the window, you felt something unravel inside you. Something soft and aching.
Then your phone lit up.
[Kokoro๐] 7:41 PM
โAre you free tonight?โ
โMeet me at the overpass. Please.โ
Your heart skipped.
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
-----------
You didnโt remember how long you stood there in the rain before you got the courage to walk forward. Each boom of thunder echoed in your chest, a low, rattling reminder that no matter how old you got, some fears never left.
The overpass hadnโt changed. Still damp and crumbling at the corners, a patch of old graffiti still clinging to the underside. And there, beneath it, like heโd stepped right out of your memory, stood Kokoro.
Hood pulled over his head. Head down.
Until he looked up and saw you.
He gave a soft smile that didnโt quite reach his eyes.
โYouโre here.โ
You nodded, arms wrapped tightly around yourself.
โYou said youโd be here.โ
Another crash of thunder rolled overhead. You flinched.
And just like thatโ
You were six years old again.
-----------
It was pouring that day too. You remember it vividly, your tiny rain boots splashing through puddles, your bottom lip trembling as you raced through the neighborhood with tears in your eyes.
Your parents had forgotten to pick you up after school.
The storm came faster than expected.
You were small. Alone. Afraid.
You ducked under the old overpass, water dripping from your bangs as thunder cracked above.
And thenโ
He appeared.
Kokoro, in his little blue windbreaker, breathless from running. Heโd seen you sprint off the playground, and even back then, heโd known exactly where you would go.
โHey,โ he said, cheeks flushed, soaked to the bone.
You couldnโt speak. You just trembled, clutching your soaked backpack.
Then softly, quietly, you reached for him.
And Kokoro didnโt hesitate. He took your hand and pulled you into a hug, whispering, โI got you.โ
-----------
You blinked back to the present, rain now soaking through your sleeves. A sharp crack of thunder sent your heart into your throat again.
You instinctively stepped back toward the wall of the overpass, hiding your face, teeth clenched. It felt ridiculous, being this shaken by a storm, but before you could fall into that shame, you felt him step closer.
โKokoroโฆโ you whispered.
But this time, he was the one reaching out.
He gently brushed your damp hair away from your cheek and offered his handโnot forcefully, not urgentlyโjust open, patient, waiting.
Your lip trembled. You stared at it for a second, then reached forward with shaky fingers and let him pull you in.
He wrapped his arms around you and tugged you close, your cheek resting against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat through his soaked hoodie. Fast, but steady.
โYou still hate thunder, I see,โ he murmured, voice soft against your ear.
You let out a weak laugh. โSome things never change.โ
He held you tighter. You looked up slowly. His eyes were on youโgentle, warm, and full of something that had been buried for years.
ย โโฆIโm Sorry Y/NโฆI never meant to leave like that,โ he said. โI didnโt know how to say goodbye. And I didnโt want to say noโฆ because I was definitely in love with you, but I didnโt know how to say yes yet, either.โ
Thunder cracked again. But this time, it didnโt shake you.
Not with Kokoro holding you like this.
โI waited for you,โ you whispered. โEven when I tried not to.โ
He leaned down, nose brushing yours. โIโm here now.โ
His lips touched yours before you could respondโwarm and slow and steady. He kissed you like he wasnโt going anywhere. Like the rain could fall forever, and youโd still be safe in his arms.
When he finally pulled away, you were both smiling through the dampness.
He rested his forehead against yours. โI owe you a lot of answers,โ he said.
You nodded. โOne step at a time?โ
Kokoro grinned. โAs long as I get to walk with you.โ
He pulled you back into his chest, his arms a shelter stronger than any overpass. The storm rolled on, but neither of you moved. For the first time in years, you werenโt waiting anymore.
๐๐๐ข๐ค๐ข ๐๐๐๐ฌ๐ ๐ฑ ๐๐๐ง๐ฌ๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐ฏ๐! ๐ซ๐๐๐๐๐ซ - During a late-night thunderstorm, you call Weesa, scared and anxious from the loud thunder. He stays on the phone with you, speaking softly to comfort you through your fear.
female reader/ Sensitive! Reader/ Saiki Weesa x reader/ fluff/ romance/ PSYFE/ PSYCHIC FEVER/ ForEVER/ WEESA/ one shot
The storm raged outside, casting flickering shadows through the apartment as thunder boomed like drums in the sky. You curled up beneath your blanket, clutching your favorite teddy bear tightly to your chest. Every rumble shook you a little more, and the howling wind outside only made the growing panic in your chest worse.
Trembling, you reached for your phone with shaking hands and pressed the name in your contacts that youโd stared at a hundred times before. The call barely rang twice before he answered.
โWeesa?โ you whispered, your voice small.
โHey, sweetheart,โ he said softly, instantly alert. โYou okay?โ
You bit your lip, squeezing your bear tighter. โIโฆ the thunder. I canโtโ Iโm scared.โ
His tone dropped, slow and comforting. โI got you. Just breathe for me, yeah? Iโm here.โ
His voice poured through the speaker like warm tea on a cold night. You started talking softly, nervously, about how storms always made you feel trapped, like you were a little girl again hiding under your bed. You even told him the silly story about how your grandma used to say thunderstorms were the angels crying.ย ย
โAngels, huh?โ he chuckled. โGuess that makes you my little Angel then.โ
You blushed, even though he couldnโt see it. His quiet laughter steadied your breathing more than anything else could.
But just as you started to calm down, the lights flickered onceโฆ then twiceโฆ and the apartment went dark.
You froze. โWeesa,โ you breathed, voice breaking. โThe power went out.โ
There was silence on the other end, just for a second. Then his tone shifted completely.
โOkay, baby. Stay put. Iโm coming to you.โ
โWaitโWeesa, itโs pouringโโ
โIโm already grabbing my jacket,โ he said firmly. โYou think Iโm gonna let my girl sit in the dark scared and alone? Nah. No thanks.โ
Before you could argue again, the call ended. You sat there clutching your teddy bear, heart racing from a new kind of nervousness.
Ten agonizing minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You stumbled toward it, flinching at another crack of thunder as you unlocked it with shaky hands.
There he stood, Weesa, drenched and breathless, tall and quiet. His hair clung to his forehead, rain dripping down the curve of his jaw. In one hand was his phone. In the other, a bag with snacks and a flashlight.
You didnโt say a word, you just threw yourself into his chest.
โHey, angel,โ he murmured, holding you close with strong arms. โI got you. Itโs okay now.โ
He stepped inside and gently shut the door behind him, setting the bag down as he guided you toward the couch. Weesa pulled you into his lap with surprising ease, settling you comfortably against his chest. You were small in his arms, your head tucked under his chin, the teddy bear still nestled between you.
His arms wrapped securely around your waist as he leaned back. โYouโre shaking,โ he said, kissing your hair. โLetโs fix that.โ
He tucked the blanket around both of you, his large hands smoothing it over your legs. The warmth of his body quickly melted into yours, his steady heartbeat like a lullaby. His long legs stretched beneath you, cradling you like you weighed nothing at all.
โBetter?โ he asked quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
You nodded against his chest. โMmhmโฆ thank you for coming.โ
โIโll always come for you,โ he said, his voice low, almost protective. โDoesnโt matter what time it is or how bad the storm is.โ
Your fingers played gently with the edge of his sleeve as another rumble shook the sky. He felt you flinch and held you tighter, rubbing soothing circles on your back.
โYouโre safe, baby. Just close your eyes, I got you.โ
You sighed, eyes fluttering shut as you sank further into his warmth. He started humming softly, one of those slower songs from his group's setlist, and the vibration of his chest under your cheek lulled you into calmness. You barely noticed the thunder anymore.
Each time it got louder, he kissed your temple or ran his fingers through your hair. โStill with me?โ heโd whisper, and youโd nod, letting yourself melt into him a little more.
Eventually, the storm began to fade. The rain softened, the thunder grew more distant. Weesa stayed exactly where he was, arms wrapped around you like a weighted blanket, cheek resting gently against the top of your head.
โI love you,โ you mumbled drowsily, so softly you almost didnโt expect him to hear.
He did.
His chest stilled beneath you for a second before he whispered, โI love you too, baby.โ
You looked up at him, eyes glassy and tired, but full of something warmer. He smiled, that rare, sleepy kind of smile that only came out when he felt safe. Then he kissed your forehead, slow, lingering, tender.
โLetโs stay like this,โ he whispered. โJust a little longer.โ
Wrapped up in his arms, with your teddy bear squished between your chests and his thumb brushing lazy circles on your hip, the storm finally passed, for good.
๐๐๐ฅ ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐ฑ ๐ซ๐๐๐๐๐ซ - you and Sal have a habit of calling each other before bed to calm your nerves. One night, you fall asleep mid-conversation, and he stays on the line, deciding that now is the time to confess his feelings for you, while you're not listening.
Female reader/ Sal fisher x reader/ fluff/ romance/ Sal Fisher/ Sallyface Game/ Character x reader/ one shot
In your room in the Addison apartments, you curl up on your bed, the soft glow of your phone screen casting a warm light across your room. Your nightly routine is doneโteeth brushed, face washed, your favorite teddy bear tucked under your armโand youโre ready to unwind.
As always, Sal calls. His voice, warm and familiar, is a comfort youโve grown used toโsteady and soothing like a lullaby. You had called him one night when you couldnโt sleep, and now it had become a part of your nightly routine.ย
Salโs raspy voice drifts through the phone, a soothing sound as he rambles about his day, the newest episode of your favorite show, and little things that shouldnโt be interesting but somehow areโbecause itโs him saying them. You listen, even as your eyes grow heavy, each yawn lasting a little longer.
โHey, you still with me?โ he asks, the concern in his voice gently pulling you back.
โMmhmm,โ you mumble, eyes already slipping shut again.
You hear him chuckle softly. โYouโre about to doze off, arenโt you?โ
A small smile tugs at your lips. โMight be.โ
โGo ahead,โ Sal says, his voice lower now, more tender. โIโll stay on the line, just like always.โ
Your grip on the phone loosens, breath evening out as sleep starts to pull you under. The gentle hum of his voice fades into white noise, and you drift off with a feeling of safety you donโt fully understand.
On the other end of the line, Sal sits in silence, heartbeat thudding in his ears. Youโre asleep, he knows by the slow, steady rhythm of your breaths, but he doesnโt hang up.
Something keeps him there.
He stares at his phone, thumb grazing the edge of the screen, trying to find the nerve to finally say the words that have been building for years.
โI love your laugh,โ he whispers into the quiet. โItโs like a song that makes everything feel lighter.โ
Sal takes a breath. โAnd your eyes... theyโre like stars. I donโt know, they just make me feel like I can find my way again when everything else gets too dark.โ
His throat tightens and his heartbeat picks up, but he keeps going. โYouโre so kind. You care about people in a way Iโve never seen before. You listenโreally listen. And you make me feel like Iโm not just some freak with a prosthetic.โ
The words are quiet, but theyโre raw. Real.
โYouโre beautiful, inside and out. And that girly charm of yours?โ He lets out a soft laugh. โItโs addictive. Like, sweet and over-the-top in the best way. Anytime you wear your cute pink bows and your adorable outfits, I swear my brain short-circuits.โ
Sal glances down at his lap, voice growing more hesitant. โIโve been carrying this for a while. I didnโt want to mess things up between us, but... Y/N, I think Iโm in love with you.โ
He waits, half-hoping your voice will answer back. But thereโs only soft breathing.
Sal swallows hard. Still, he canโt stop now.
โWhen you smile, itโs like the world stops. You smell like vanilla, coconut oil, and comfort. And the way you look at me sometimes when I win you those stupid little plushies from the claw machine at the arcade, like Iโve held the moon and stars over your head, makes my heart skip a beat. โ
He pauses, voice thick with emotion.
โI know Iโve never been great at this kind of thing. But I had to tell you. Youโre not just my best friend. Youโre the reason everything feels bearable. You bring color into my life when everything else feels like static.โ
Time slips by. He talks quietly, softly. About your shared memories, the little things heโs noticed, the way your presence feels like home.
Then, just as heโs about to finally hang up, he hears it.
โSal?โ
Your voice, barely audibleโgroggy, dazed, but there.
His heart drops. โY/N? Youโre awake?โ
โ...I heard you.โ You pause, and thereโs a smile in your voice. โEvery single word.โ
He freezes. โYouโฆ you did?โ
โI didnโt mean to wake up,โ you say gently. โBut I guess I woke up at the right time.โ
Sal begins to apologize profusely, but you cut him off. โDonโt apologize. Iโm glad you said it. Because I feel the same way.โ
Thereโs a moment of stunned silence.
โYou do?โ he asks, almost afraid to believe it.
โMmhmm.โ You sound more awake now, warm and steady. โIโve loved you for a long time, Sal. I just didnโt know if you felt the same way.โ
Sal lets out a shaky breath. The relief, the joyโitโs overwhelming. โI thought I was going to scare you off.โ
โYou could never,โ you say. โYou make me feel safe. Like I can breathe again.โ
He laughs softly, voice trembling. โSo...does that mean that youโll be my girlfriend?โ
โHmm, I donโt know? Maybe take me on a date first, loverboy,โ you tease, and he grins, even if you canโt see it.
You both fall quiet again, but itโs a good kind of silenceโcomfortable, full of understanding. For the first time, nothingโs left unsaid.
Sal finally murmurs, โWell, then, would you like to go to that one cat cafe Ash was showing us at lunch tomorrow?โ
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๐๐๐ฅ ๐ ๐ข๐ฌ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐ฑ ๐ก๐ฒ๐ฉ๐๐ซ๐๐๐ฆ๐ข๐ง๐ข๐ง๐! ๐๐๐๐๐๐ซ -Sal sees you sitting alone at lunch every day with your little pink cassette player and heavily decorated headphones. he works up the courage to talk to you, and you bond over your shared love of heavy metal music.
Female reader/ Hyperfeminine! Reader/ Sal fisher x reader/ fluff/ romance/ Sal Fisher/ Sallyface Game/ Character x reader/ one shot
Sal Fisher sat at his usual lunch spot, his tray cluttered with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, chips, and a slightly squished apple. The cafeteria buzzed with the usual chaos: laughter, shouting, clattering silverware, and the occasional thump of a textbook hitting the table. His friends, Larry, Todd, and Ashley, were locked in a heated debate about whether Batman or Spider-Man could climb a wall faster. They glanced at Sal, waiting for him to chime in, but his eyes stayed locked on the far corner of the room.
You were there, nestled in your own little world. Your pink cassette player sat beside your tray, headphones heavily decorated with stickers in your ears, and a book open in front of you. You nodded along to your music, completely unfazed by the chaos around you. Eyes closed, a peaceful smile tugging at your lips, you looked like something out of a shoujo manga. Compared to the dull school colors everyone else wore, your outfit was a complete contrast. Sal had noticed you before, how could he not? But today, he couldn't seem to look away.
A loud slap on the back snapped him out of his trance. "Earth to Sal!" Larry exclaimed, crumbs flying from his mouth. "You've been zoned out for the past five minutes. Whatโs up?"
Sal blinked, cheeks flushing as he turned his gaze back to his tray. "Nothing," he mumbled, taking a bite of his sandwich.
Todd leaned in, eyebrow raised. "Is it because of the new girl?" he asked, tilting his head toward you.
Salโs eyes flicked to you again, and he gave the smallest nod, hoping theyโd drop it.
The rest of lunch passed in a blur, half-hearted jokes, forced laughter, and Sal sneaking glances at you whenever he could. There was something about the way you carried yourself, like you didnโt quite belong to the noise around you. You softened everything. The cafeteria didnโt feel so harsh when you were in it.
When the bell rang, Sal watched you pack up your things and leave, the faint hum of your music trailing behind you like an echo. He felt... empty.
Fate had a funny way of twisting things. As the day went on, he found himself in the same class as you. It threw him off so badly that he dropped his books when he saw your name on the seating chart next to his. He tried to slide into the desk beside you with a casual nod, but his heart was pounding.
You looked up from your book, surprised but not unkind. You gave him a small smile and returned to your reading.
The lesson itself barely registered. All he could focus on was the tap of your pencil, the subtle scent of strawberries that lingered around you. It was like trying to pay attention during a rock concert.
Then it happened.
You gathered your things to leave, and a pink cassette tape slipped from your bag. You didnโt notice, but Sal did. He bent down to pick it up, pausing when he read the handwritten title of a heavy metal song across the label, bold and jagged against the soft washi tape that ran across it.
His brow lifted. That didnโt match your vibe at all.
After class, he waited. When the bell rang, he slipped out into the hallway, searching. You were easy to spotโyour headphones a colorful beacon in a sea of muted grays. He approached, cassette in hand.
"Hey!" he called, a bit louder than intended.
You turned, startled.
"You dropped this," he said, holding out the tape.
Your cheeks turned pink as you took it. "Oh, thank you. I didnโt even notice."
He smiled awkwardly. "Didnโt peg you for a metalhead."
You tilted your head, amused. "What did you expect?"
Sal scratched the back of his neck. "I dunnoโฆ something lighter? Pop or Lo-fi, maybe? You just give off that kind of vibe."
You chuckled, the sound like a windchime in spring. "Guess I like to keep people guessing."
There was a pause, a flicker of curiosity between you.
"So, what do you listen to?" you asked.
He perked up. "Same stuff, actually. Metal, punkโฆ anything loud enough to make me wanna headbang."
Your eyes lit up. "No way. Do you like Sanity Falls?"
His face brightened with surprise. "They're my favorite band."
You nodded enthusiastically. "Theyโre lyrics give off Slipknot most of the time, but I still think their songs are great.โ
A quiet moment passed, then your gaze flicked to the prosthetic on his face. "Your mask is really cool," you said gently, motioning to it.
Salโs chest tightened, but he kept his voice steady. "Itโs a prosthetic. I lost part of my face in an accident."
You looked away, instantly regretful. "OhโIโm sorry. I didnโt meanโ"
"Itโs okay," he said, and he meant it. "Most people think itโs a mask when they first see it anyway.โ
You met his eyes again, your expression open and sincere. "Well... Iโm glad we like the same music," you said with a soft smile. "Iโm Y/N, by the way."
"Sal."
"Would youโif youโre not busyโwant to walk home with me?"
He blinked. That was the last thing he expected. "Yeah," he said, too fast. "Iโd like that."
The walk home was filled with stories of old concerts, favorite lyrics, and albums that had carried you through bad days. You were easy to talk to. So easy it scared him a little.
When you reached your house, you paused at the gate. "Wait here," you said, before darting inside.
He shifted on the porch, wondering if he said something wrong, until you returned with a cassette.
"Itโs a mix," you explained, shy now. "Some of my favorite tracks. Thought you might like them."
He took it like it was made of glass. "Thanks. Iโll listen to it tonight."
"Iโd love to hear what you think," you said, cheeks flushed. "Itโs kind of a piece of me."
"Yeah," he murmured, stunned. "Iโll let you know tomorrow?"
You smiled. "Definitely."
That night, he listened to every track. Twice.
Over the next few days, you and Sal became inseparable. You sat together in class. Shared your wired headphones at lunch. Walked home every day, your shadows stretching out ahead of you.
His friends started to notice.
"Dude," Larry said one day. "Whatโs going on with you and, uh, Cassette Girl?"
Sal flushed. "Weโre just friends."
"Sure," Todd said, smirking. "Friends who share earbuds and blush at each other."
He rolled his eyes. "We like the same music, thatโs all."
The whispers at school didnโt bother him as much as he expected. Sure, people stared. But for the first time, he didnโt care.
Then came Friday night.
You came over for a movie nightโjust the two of you. His room was spotless, and a mixtape heโd made just for you sat on his dresser. Songs that said everything he couldnโt.
When the first track played, "Demolition Lovers", you looked at him, curious.
"Whatโs this?"
"Just... some songs I thought youโd like."
You listened quietly as the tape played, occasionally pointing out lyrics you loved, your shoulder brushing his as you leaned in closer.
Then "If Iโm James Dean, Youโre Audrey Hepburn" came on.
You looked at him, eyes soft.
"Y/N," he began, his voice shaky, "these songs... theyโre about you. About us. "
Your eyes widened.
"Theyโre how I feel when Iโm with you. Like... everythingโs quieter. Easier."
For a second, you didnโt speak.
Then you reached for his hand.
"I feel it too," you whispered. "You make the world feel softer."
He blinked, heart pounding. "You really feel the same?"
"I do."
The air between you crackled. Slowly, he leaned in, and you met him halfway.
Giving him a soft kiss on the lips of his prosthetic.
When the final track faded out, neither of you spoke. You didnโt need to.
You were both already thinking about what mix you could make together next.ย
I HAVE SECURED TICKETS. I REPEAT. I. HAVE. SECURED. TICKETS.
My hands are still shaking. My vision is blurry. My soul briefly left my body, Everytime my computer crashed. But it was all worth it.
Enhypen membership presale tried to humble me. Ticketmaster tried to humble me. The queue number tried to humble me. But I came out victorious. Battle wounds? Yes. Emotional trauma? Absolutely. BUT IโM GOING TO SEE ENHYPEN LIVE AND THATโS ALL THAT MATTERS.
To everyone still in the trenches: stay strong. May the Wi-Fi be fast and the queue be merciful