I think I went a little over board with this. I need to put a little disclaimer here: I have no medical knowledge at all and the earlier bit of this imagine were mostly taken from the Korean version of The Good Doctor (though I cannot seem to remember from which episode this was!). It honestly was supposed to be something short but my fingers went wild over the keyboard.
As I have mentioned previously, I am still trying to get the hang of writing the characters from The Good Doctor (more specifically Shaun) so bear with me. Although you can help me by sending in your requests!
word count: 1702 words.
You catch yourself in the middle of a yawn and cover your mouth with your hand. Shaun glances at you and looks back at the countless of books he has spread out on the table. All of the reading and sitting in one place are really starting to wear you out but you definitely did not want to leave Shaun all alone with his readings.
You are about to doze off when Shaun’s pager went off and yours followed soon. You grab your pager and blink away the sleep as you read the message before standing up. Shaun copies your movements and immediately the two of you rush to the ER.
“Dr. Murphy, Dr. Y/N!” One of the graveyard shift nurses call out and you rush to her. “She was brought here with intussusception diagnosis - we called for Dr. Melendez but he is currently unreachable and Dr. Brown and Dr. Kalu are currently operating another patient.” She explains as everyone follows after the paramedics who are pushing the bed.
Shaun takes the file from the nurse and quickly reads through the file as he follows after quickly. “She has had stomach pains and Hematochezia for about ten hours now.” He glances at the little girl on the gurney. “She is dehydrated.”
You frown upon hearing Shaun’s explanation. You grab on to her wrist to feel her pulse before pulling your stethoscope to listen to the little girl’s breathing. “Her breathing is really unstable.” You catch the girl’s parents’ eyes and the frown on your face deepens. “Dr. Murphy,” You call out to Shaun.
Shaun pauses abruptly before turning to look in your general direction. “If respiratory aspiration occurred while vomiting, she might have aspiration pneumonia.” He nods his head firmly before handing the file back to the nurse. “She needs surgery - there is a high chance if she has cardiac arrest, she will not survive.”
“You heard Dr. Murphy!” You exclaim. “Arrange an operating room for her!” You order the nurses and they quickly did as told. Before Shaun could walk off after them, you grab on to his sleeve causing him to flinch slightly. Once you notice that you have his attention, you release your hold on his sleeve and Shaun hesitates before resisting the urge to grab on to the sleeve.
“Shaun, I am going to make a quick call to either Dr. Melendez or Dr. Andrews,” You inform him. “Given her condition and the report that we have, how long do you think we have?” You knew you can always count on Shaun when it comes to calculating the possibilities.
“Long enough that we can attempt to save her.” Shaun clasps his hands together and brings it in front of him. You nod your head, racking your brain for anything you can do. “I shall go and prepare for surgery now.” He informs you.
You nod your head. “Get one of the nurses to run a blood test too, stat.” Shaun nods his head once more before walking away. You grab your phone and tried calling Dr. Andrews’ phone. “Dr. Andrews, it’s Dr. Y/N, we have a patient here who is most likely suffering from aspiration pneumonia and is also diagnosed with intussusception.” You nod your head as you listen to Dr. Andrews rattling off in the phone.
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I do have to admit that this is my first time attempting to write a non-binary reader imagine and I hope I do this justice?? If I didn’t, please do tell me so I can improve myself. That aside, I wasn’t quite sure what you wanted me to write so I just wrote whatever came to mind!
request: Shaun x non-binary! Reader please :)))))
words: 707 words
The day has been long and taxing and all you want to do right now is just get under your covers and warm up. Today has got to be the coldest day you have ever experienced up to date and you almost can’t feel your nose at all. You try wriggling your nose a few times as if to make sure it hadn’t fallen off.
But unfortunately for you, you still have one more stop left before you can even think of the warmth your bed can offer. Just as you are about to reach your building, you made a quick stop to the local bakery, getting coffee and some delicacies you know Shaun would like and head home.
To your surprise, when you reach your apartment building, Shaun is standing there, holding on to his bag, looking at everything and nothing in particular. A smile appears on your face and you jog over to him. “Shaun!”
Shaun peeks at you. “Hello, Y/N.”
Now that you are right in front of him, you can see that the tip of his ears are red, his cheeks look slightly flushed and he looks cold. You furrow your eyebrows. “How long have you been waiting here for, Shaun? Let’s get you warm inside.” You mutter, concern lacing your words. You took out your keys and unlock the front door, ushering Shaun inside. The two of you quickly climb up the stairs and head towards your apartment room.
The moment you are inside your apartment, you place your coffee and the bag of goods on the counter before turning back to face Shaun. No matter how many times he has been in your apartment, he always has this look on his face as if it was his first time.
You step closer to Shaun before looking at him all the while reaching for his bag. He hesitates for a bit and hands the bag to you. You give him a small smile and place his bag on your sofa. “May I?” You reach toward his hands and Shaun relaxes his fingers and slowly reaches your outstretched hands. “Your hands are really cold, Shaun - I am so sorry for getting here late!” You gently rub his fingers, trying to get some warmth on to his icy fingertips.
Shaun makes a noise at the back of his neck, looking at the top of your head. “My body temperature is still fine.” He says a matter of factly while staring blatantly at what you are doing. It makes him feel something inside and Shaun doesn’t exactly know what it is except for the fact that it feels nice watching you try to warm him up. “When submerged in cold water, the chances of my survival would most likely be a few percent before my body goes into shock.”
This causes you to chuckle and you look up from Shaun’s fingers, holding them instead now. “Well, I am glad you are nowhere near cold water then.” You bring one of his hands to your lips, lightly kiss his hand. Shaun smiles awkwardly and averts his eyes to the counter. You follow his gaze and you inhale sharply, dropping his hands from your hold. “I almost forgot about them! I got you some baked goods from the bakery down the street.” You pad over to the counter but just as you are about to grab the bag, Shaun speaks up.
“I want to eat green apple.” He pipes up and you look at him over your shoulder. Shaun is looking intently at your fridge. “Y/N, I want to eat green apples.” Shaun moves to your fridge and you nod your head, letting him do as he please because you only bought those green apples due to Shaun liking them a lot.
“Just make sure to bring these back with you or you can share it with your friends at the hospital tomorrow.” You inform him and reached for his bag. You made sure to place the bag of baked goods nicely in his bag pack before heading to the kitchen to join Shaun as he starts telling you what he had done late last night and earlier that morning.
Hey could I request one where the Reader adopts a dog that was a retired emotional support animal but had to retired due to a leg being amputated and their owners didn't want them anymore. Shaun then has a meltdown when he got yelled at by a patient the Reader's dog does its job by calming him down. - Anon💜
Sitting at the nurses station, you were running a hand up and down your arm, trying to ease the pain that was running down it.
Sighing, you leant back and looked down at your side where your dog was watching you intently.
“Yes I know.”
Reaching out, you gently ruffled her ears and smiled down at her.
You were only here to pick up Shaun after work, and thankfully since everyone knew you they let you and Bella in.
“He’ll be here soon, don’t worry.” Claire smiled.
“Thank you.”
She nodded and wondered away, and you carried on waiting.
He was supposed to be here five minute ago, and you were starting to get really worried about him.
Standing up, you walked over to the first staff member you saw and gently called their attention.
“Have you seen Shaun Murphy?”
“I’m sorry, no. But Doctor Melendez might know where he is, his office is down the hall.”
“Thank you!”
Smiling, you walked to the office and lightly knocked on the door.
“I’m sorry, not right now.”
The doctor flung the door open and blinked as he looked at you before stepping outside closing the door behind him.
“Is Shaun here?” You asked.
“Yeah, but he’s… well he’s having a meltdown. We’re waiting for Glassman.”
“Let me see him please?”
Melendez nodded his head and led you in, and you immediately spotted Shaun with his back against the desk, head in his hands as he rocked back and forth.
You looked at Melendez.
“What happened?”
“A patient yelled at him, telling him he can’t be a doctor while being autistic and called him so many names.”
You nodded your head.
“How long has Ben been like this?”
“About ten minutes, we managed to get him in here, and in all the rush I forgot to come get you.”
“Thank okay, I’ll try calm him down.”
Melendez nodded, and both of you turned to face your boyfriend to see Bella sat between his legs, her head resting on his chest.
He had his fingers buried in her fur, his head resting o hers.
“Shes trained as a service dog?” Melendez whispered.
You nodded your head.
“Yeah, but she’s retired. She hasn’t worked for four years since they amputated her leg. I didn’t think she could remember anything. For me she’s an emotional support dog.”
He nodded and you walked over to Shaun, kneeling in front of him, you gently ruffled the fur on Bella’s back.
“Shaun…” you whispered.
He shook his head and you sighed, sitting down, you reached out, your hand hovering over his.
“Shaun can I touch your hand?”
Shaun reached out, his hand reaching for yours but he pulled it back before reaching out again.
He lightly gripped your hand, bringing it to rest against his forehead.
He still didn’t look up at you, his head still resting against bellas.
Her tail wagged lightly as Shaun started played with the ends of her fur.
You shuffled around, sitting next to Shaun, letting him hold your hand against his head.
Glassman came into the room in a rush, but when he saw Shaun had calmed down quite a bit he simply quietly sat down on a chair.
You leant over and pressed a kiss to the side of Shaun’s head.
“Take as long as you need my love, we’re all here.”
“I don’t.. I am a doctor…” he whispered.
“I know, you’re one of the best doctors.”
“I am a doctor…”
“You are a doctor.”
Shaun kept repeating that, and you kept saying it back, reminding him that he was indeed a doctor.
You were offering him all the support you could, but you couldn’t do much, you knew when he was ready you could help him.
Right now you just had to sit here, letting him calm himself down with the help of Bella and pressing kisses to the side of his head
Hello I haven't seen anyone asking for the Good Doctor imagines so I was wondering if you could do one where Teen Autistic Reader goes in hospital for a lung transplant (because her mother was smoking when she was pregnant with her and caused a lot of problems when she was growing up as well) and Shaun becomes a big brother while Reader tells him about her fluffy bunny plush and lots of facts about rabbits? Just a fluffy moment when Shaun's adopted father (cannot remember his name) takes the two to see bunnies? - Anon💜
You were anxiously watching the door, waiting for the familiar face of your favourite doctor to walk in.
Every day without fail he came in at this time and you had something to show him, so you stared at the door just waiting.
A minute later he walked in with your chart in his hands and he walked over to you.
“Hello (Y/N).” He greeted.
“Shaun! Look I have something to show you!”
You pulled out your phone and showed him a photo your friend had texted you.
“That is a big rabbit.” He said.
“It’s my rabbit plush! It’s huge! You like rabbits and I want to show you it, I thought you would like it, hey did you know baby rabbits are called kittens?”
“I did not know that, I like that. Thank you for telling me.” He smiled.
He looked at your chart and you looked at him, tilting your head a little bit.
“How are you feeling today?”
“I feel better, it doesn’t hurt as much to breathe anymore.”
“That is good.”
He asked a few more questions, did some checks on your and he set your chart down at the end of the bed.
“Will you tell me more facts about rabbits?”
You happily nodded and began to spout all sorts of facts about rabbits to him, and he happily listed, clasping and unclasping his hands while you tapped yours against your shoulder.
You were rocking back and forth slightly, and your breathing was ragged and Shaun frowned.
“Can I listen to your lungs?” He asked.
You nodded and you breathed while he listened to the sounds of your lungs.
“Are you struggling to breathe?”
“A little.. it’s okay though..”
“When you get excited you talk a lot, your lungs cannot keep up with the amount you breathe when you talk quickly.”
“Oh…”
“Do you need your cannula?”
You shook your head and beamed brightly up at him.
“No it’s okay. I don’t mind I’m used to it.”
“Okay. Will you call the nurse if you need it?”
“Uh huh, Shaun?”
He stopped what he was doing and turned to you.
“Will you have lunch with me? I get lonely eating alone.”
Shaun smiled and nodded his head.
“I would like that, I do not like the cafeteria it is very loud. I will have lunch with you.”
“Thank you!”
Shaun left to carry on working, and you spent most of the morning talking to your friend through texts, researching more things to learn about and wondering around your room.
You were standing in front of the window, looking outside at all the people walking past.
“You should be in bed.”
You turned around.
“You’re not Shaun.”
“No, he’s a little caught up with work, he asked me to tell you. I’m Dr Glassman.” He smiled.
“How’d you know I should be in bed?”
“I read your chart before coming in, I thought I’d do your next check up if you don’t mind?”
You shook your head, hand tapping your shoulder.
“Only Dr Murphy can do my check ups.”
“Alright, that’s okay. How are you feeling? Any chest pain or struggle to breathe?”
“It hurts a little, but that’s normal. Are you a surgeon too? Do you like rabbits?”
“I am a surgeon, and I do like rabbits. Can I sit while you wait for Shaun?”
You nodded and he sat down in a chair, and you guys spoke about rabbits and what it was like being a surgeon.
Your lunch was brought in but you didn’t touch it, you waited and carried on walking around the room until Shaun came in with his lunch.
“Oh Dr Glassman you’re still here.” He said.
“I thought id keep (Y/N) company while she waited for you.” He smiled.
You sat on your bed to eat your lunch.
“Will you be the one to give me new lungs Shaun?”
“I will be in the operating room, yes.”
You nodded your head.
“When I get my new lungs I’m going to see the rabbits. Will you come see the rabbits with me?”
Shaun smiled.
“I would like that.”
Dr Glassman smiled as he watched the pair of you interact.
He had heard from others like Melendez and Andrews that you and Shaun had bonded, you prefer Shaun because he understood you better.
You and Shaun got along really well, and anyone could see that Shaun worried about you, he liked talking to you so when you were having a bad day it made him stressed.
You on the other hand saw Shaun as your older brother, if you had a brother you wanted him to be Shaun.
Dr Glassman smiled to himself and a few days later he came back to your room.
“How would you like to go on a trip?” He asked.
“Where to? If it’s to the big machine again I don’t want to do that I don’t like that.”
“No it’s not to the CT.” He chuckled.
“Where too?”
“It’s a surprise, Shaun is coming too.”
“Okay. I want to go. Is it okay if I go? Am I allowed?”
“Well you’ll be with two doctors, and I’ve already gotten permission to take you, so it’s alright.”
You nodded and you went into the bathroom to change and he helped you get your oxygen tank and everything ready.
Shaun met you both downstairs and he was just as curious as you.
You were led into a small pet store and you looked around.
“You must be (Y/N), I’ve got a surprise for you, and your friend.”
You looked up at Shaun, and you clasped the bottom of his jacket and he looked at your hand but said nothing.
You both were taken across the store to a small pen and you gasped.
“Bunnies!” You beamed.
“They are so small..” Shaun whispered.
“Here, let’s sit you down.” Dr Glassman smiled.
He helped you sit down and Shaun sat down next to you, both of your reaching out to pet the little rabbits and you happily spoke about them.
It was a day off you and Shaun both needed, nothing to stress or worry about, just each other and some adorable little baby rabbits
When you show up to the ER after an allergic reaction, Claire and Neil finally learn something interesting about Shaun.
Words Count: 1,016
Pairing: Shaun Murphy x F!Reader
Warning: None
Author’s Note: This was requested by a very kind anon! It’s my very first fic for this fandom so I hope it’s not too bad. Also I used my own allergy for this fic just because—
Holding a small tablet in his hand, followed closely by two of his three residents, Dr. Neil Melendez walked up to the bed you were quietly sitting on. From your cheeks to your hands, itchy red marks covered your skin, and you had to grip the bedsheets to keep yourself from scratching them manically.
“Good evening,” the oldest surgeon greeted you, briefly looking up from the tablet. “How are you feeling?”
You shrugged and smiled. “Not too bad, actually,” you replied honestly. “I just feel like ripping my skin off.”
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I apologize for not being active. To make up for it, here's an x reader I've been wanting to post/been thinking about in my brain just now.
Disclaimer: I haven't watched the Something Is Knocking At Your Door/SIKAYD series or anything about the Verity mod. I've seen only clips and edits of it on TikTok so I apologize if Verity's character is inaccurate.
Also worth noting that there is no use of Y/N, only {Name}. This fic uses second person pronouns like you/yours/yourself. No height is mentioned in this fic so you can be taller or shorter than Verity's humanoid form so knock yourself out dear readers. You and Verity have been friends for a long time. Also this fic contains swearing so if you aren't comfortable with that, don't read.
Credits for the Verity Mod: ThatMob on YouTube
Word Count (excluding the shit written above): 486
"Verity?" You ask, gaining the attention of your helper friend or whatever you like to call him these days. "Yes, {Name}? Is there something you need?" Verity asks, looking up at you since he's in his normal ball form.
You hesitate on telling him what's on your mind due to the fear of being judged. He waits for you to continue with whatever you were going to ask him. "Do you... ever sleep?" You ask him, looking down at Verity. He let out a soft chuckle. "Of course not, someone's gotta keep watch."
He began to answer simply before he finished his statement off. "You don't know what might be lurking around in the dark while you're asleep." You wondered was Verity so adamant on protecting you in your sleep, but you guessed that was fair. "Is it alright if I ask another question?" You ask beforehand, not wanting to bother Verity with all your questions.
"Ask me anything, {Name}. It's what I'm here for." Verity responds, allowing you to ask another question that's been going through your brain. "Do you like me?" You suddenly ask, not being able to keep it from coming out of your mouth.
"As a friend? Yes. But I know that's not what you're asking." Verity was onto you. He knew what you meant.
You instantly blush, wanting to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. "N-nevermind. I'm just spouting bullshit at this point." Verity stared at you. "We both know you have something you wanna say to me."
Verity spoke, turning into his normal humanoid form. "Please tell me what's on your mind, {Name}." He basically pleaded on getting you to open up. "I may or may not have feelings for you, Verity." You finally spoke.
After your confession, there was a long pause of silence from the both of you. Verity stepped closer towards you, gently holding your face with both hands. "You do?" He asked softly, getting a bit closer to you. "Yeah..."
You said awkwardly while blushing a fuck ton now. "Oh {Name}, you don't know how much I wanted to hear you say that." He spoke softer this time, gently caressing your face with both of his thumbs. You blush even more as you melt into his gentle caressing on your face. "May I... kiss you?"
You smile softly and nod. Verity then leaned towards you and placed a small kiss on your soft and warm lips. The kiss was gentle and you could tell that Verity was inexperienced with kissing. You didn't mind it at all and just let him kiss you. After a few moments, he pulls away from you. "Was... that okay?"
Verity was nervous about the kiss. "It was perfect." You smile a warm smile at Verity before he suddenly pulls you into a hug. "I love you, {Name}." You hug him back, a newfound relationship between the two of you just beginning.
If you want more Verity fics like this one, please request them in my inbox. I don't bite I promise :oD
Verity x Sassy Wicth/Wizard reader who uses him as their personal herb locater and makes him help them make epic potions, they also have a staff that they use to poke him, gently book him or hold him with the staff.
"Witches little helper"
Ver.ity x gn!reader
Tags: sassy reader, Verity being Verity, obsession, more like an attempt at writing sass
Notes: This is my first time writing anything about witches, so please forgive me if it sucks! I also don't know what possessed me to write two fics in one day, but here we are
Verity has been alive for well over 100 years, going from different corners of the internet, to becoming a "mod" in this game called Minecraft. He's seen people, interacted with them, helped them when they needed him, and tossed out when he was deemed useless, inconvenient.
So imagine his surprise when his box opened, and his new person was a witch. Not the mob witches in the game, but someone obsessed with potions, brewing their own with several mods installed, and gathering herbs. And not to mention incredibly sassy.
Him telling you directions? You'd huff and say you knew that. Him advising you to go a certain path or use a certain flower? You rolled your eyes and said you knew what you were doing. You certainly were something else.
But it was a welcome change. Previous players would use him to find diamonds, netherite, spawn things in at all, but you? You brought him along everywhere you went in your satchel. You needed help finding a biome and specific herbs? You told him straight up. You needed help finding a good iron deposit for another cauldron? You requested his aid reluctantly (not really, but he won't let you know he knows). You just wanted someone to be your eyes as you plucked the herbs at night? He was willing to help.
He was expecting the day you ignore him and go to the villages he warned you to stay away from, expected you to coax his monstrous form out like everyone else has before you. But you didn't. In fact, you didn't need to go to a village. Why would you? You had crops, a farm, your own enchanting library in your base. You had everything you needed, and now you had a companion. You had him.
"The herbs should be 300 blocks west from here!" Verity called out from your satchel as you walked along the terrain. It was nearing sunset, the sky a beautiful orange red hue. Just like the other day, you were out picking flowers and plants you needed for a new batch of potions. And just like previous times, you brought him along. For his company, and because he demanded so.
"I knew that," you hummed, stepping over a fallen log. You used the staff to knock rocks and sticks out of your way, while at the same time using it to leap over ledges far quicker than climbing. You truly were a different player.
"Say," you began as you approached the plants nestled in the ground. You reached into your satchel and pulled his yellow form out, gently setting him onto the grass as you got to work. "You always mention the villages whenever I ask for directions, any reason why?" He hummed, looking up at you as you yanked the plants from the soil, ignoring th dirt staining your pants. "Well, their abandoned. No signs of life at all. Why? Planning on going there?" He raised his eyebrow, internally hoping you wouldn't even dare.
You rolled your eyes and snorted. "Obviously not," you spoke with such sass. "I'm just curious because you don't shut up about it." You yanked another plant out, and he hummed.
"You're pulling them too hard, you know?"
"Verity, I will stuff you into the bottom of my satchel and bury you with every single plant I find."
"Ooh, someone's feisty!"
Standing up from where you were just moments ago, you dusted the dirt off your palms and hands. Reaching down to grab your staff, you looked down at Verity, hand on your hip. He looked back up at you with that innocent smile of his. "What's up?" He asked. You narrowed your eyes. "I'm debating whether or not to stuff you into my satchel," you spoke in a low tone, gripping your staff a little tighter. He laughed. "Even if you did, you wouldn't hurt me. I'm far more durable than I look!" He proclaimed proudly. You let out a snort. "I'm sure you are, mister know-it-all."
Before he could even retort, you used your staff to leverage beneath his spherical body and lifted him up. It was a weird angle for sure, but neither of you said anything as you began to walk home. He stared at the ground as you both walked, the crickets chirping and the distant groans of zombies.
"Something on your mind?" You asked him, voice not as sassy for once. He shook his head, looking up at you with a smile. "Nah, just seeing if you remember where you base it. After all, you're off track." Your eyebrow ticked as you scowled. "I know where I'm going!" You huffed, turning to your left. You walked through a few trees before he said you went the wrong direction. You grumbled, glaring at his yellow circle form. "I'm going to use you in my latest potion."
"Oh yeah? What's it gonna be?" "Fertilizer so I can grow my crops faster." "Hey! I can be used for way more!"
Your light-hearted argument and sassy attitude faded into the distance as you both neared your base. It was truly a new experience for Verity, but as he said before, you were a welcomed change to his loop. He just hoped you never break your word about going to those villages...
In which your lovely ‘personal helper friend’ knows too much for… Well, anyone’s good.
Alternatively
Verity is a fucking weirdo and I love that
Tags include; 5+1 things, fluff, weirdness, awkwardness, Verity infodumps, uncomfortable behaviors, he/they used on Verity, obsessive behavior, and sorry ball lovers but they have a body
You hadn’t given it much thought before, but being friends with someone that had (to your knowledge) infinite knowledge could be kind of creepy. It sounds like a given, but you just didn’t realize how bad it could be.
For example, Verity somehow knows your exact measurements without you ever giving them to him. They’ve never asked, they’ve never tried measuring you themselves, they just got them somehow.
“Verity,” You start, already slightly exasperated, “Seriously, this is like- I-I don’t even know how to begin to tell you how weird this is.”
“That’s because it isn’t!” He chirps, “They’re just clothes, and they’re—“
“No, Verity,” You cut him off, only slightly put off by the glare he throws you for a split second, “How did you even- How did you get my measurements?”
He giggles your name, not at all bothered by your stern look. He never is.
“I know everything, you know that! I also know that you like the outfit, so I’m not sure why you’re being so stubborn about it!”
You roll your eyes and open your mouth to argue again, but they cut you off this time.
“Ah! And just because I know everything does not mean I cannot be confused every once in a while.” It’s like they read your mind. Creepy.
They barely give you time to wonder how that would work before they push the clothes into your hands, “Go ahead now, try them on!
Grumbling, you throw the clothes onto the bed and grab Verity’s shoulders, pushing and causing him to stumble backwards out of your room. You stop once he’s fully outside and put a hand on the door, ready to close it. “Never do anything like this again, got it?”
”Aye aye captain!” He chirps, putting a hand over his heart, or where you assume his heart is.
At that, you slam the door shut in his face and turn back around to look at the clothes. As much as you would hate to admit it right now, he was right, you do like it. The colors are nice, it all matches, and it’s something you could see yourself wearing on a normal day. You just…
God, you wish he wouldn’t be so creepy about it.
He knows so, so much about you, yet he doesn’t account for how weird you’d find it that he knew your measurements? Thats just so frustrating. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he did it on purpose.
You begrudgingly put on the outfit and look at yourself in the mirror afterwards. As expected, it fit perfectly and made you feel fantastic. If only you were a little more stubborn, you could’ve pretended to hate it just to get Verity to never do this again.
Letting out a sigh, you approach the door only for it to be opened by Verity instead. Their unsettling smile seems to widen just slightly as they slowly look you up and down, taking in the sight.
”You- you can’t just do that!” You stammer, feeling as though you had just suffered a mini heart attack, “What if I was still changing?”
”You weren’t,” They respond, stepping inside, “I heard your footsteps.”
You really don’t have it in you to argue with him about how weird that is, so you simply let him do as he pleases, maintaining eye contact as he comes closer and straightens out your shirt.
”I knew you’d make this look good…” He murmurs, “You always do.”
Curse his manufacturers—or whoever the hell made him—for making him so stupidly hard to hate.
You hope to god that people remember you as a saint when you die.
You may be snippy at times and you may make some wrong decisions, but who can blame you with the situation you’re in? You don’t know many people that could handle Verity’s constant badgering without snapping.
Currently he is lying on top of you, contorted in a weird cat-like position covering most of your torso. They’re very committed to this bit as well, a purr vibrating through their body. It could’ve been cute if it didn’t literally feel like having the weight of the world on your chest.
Not even in a cute way, Verity is just heavy as fuck!
“Verity.” You say, pushing on their shoulders. Unfortunately for you, that only seems to make them heavier as they let out an acknowledging hum. “Shit-! Verity get off!”
“You didn’t have a problem with this earlier.” He says, acting like that fixes whatever he thinks is bothering you.
”Yeah, well, it didn’t feel like you were crushing me earlier, so!”
He giggles at that, the sensation feeling weird on top of you. “I couldn’t even crush your skull, silly… That’d take 235 kilograms—or 520 pounds—of pressure, I’m not that heavy!”
You don’t like that he knows that. You also don’t like how he can say it so easily.
”Gross.” Is all you say, but they take it as a sign to keep going.
”At most I might be able to break a few of your bones, but that’d only be if I were really trying!” You squirm underneath them, uncomfortable with the imagery. “That’s not crushing, though, so you don’t have to worry!”
”Quit!” You say, wiggling until you can finally manage to sit up, pushing him down into your lap. “I don’t wanna hear about that!”
Verity sits up, keeping his eyes on you. “I’m sorry, I was just trying to reassure you that you weren’t going to get crushed.”
”Oh yeah, so you tell me you could break my bones instead?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at him.
“I’m not going to.” He says. Despite the words being so simple, the way he says them makes you pause. He seems so serious, his voice sounding almost foreign when compared to just a second ago.
”Uh… I was just jokin—“
”Do you really think I would do that?” They ask.
Oh, well, way to ruin whatever vibe you guys had going on. Despite being weirded out by his fun fact, you weren’t actually taking it that seriously. Should you have? It didn’t seem like such a big deal.
You don’t get the chance to think to yourself much more before Verity chuckles, the sound releasing you of the pressure that had snuck onto your shoulders.
”Because I wouldn’t!” They say, reaching over to boop your nose.
You turn around to face the source of the singsongy voice, finding Verity standing there with his arms behind his back, leaning down to be closer to your height.
It is way too early for this…
”I dunno,” You respond, mustering up a tired smile, “What’d you find?”
“Drumroll, please,” They say, standing up to their full height as a very convincing drumroll comes from their open mouth. You count exactly three seconds before they reveal a small journal. “Ta-dah!”
You feel the blood rush to your face before you can even say anything, staring dumbly at the journal—your journal—in his hands.
How did he get his hands on that? You open your mouth to ask, but the words are lost before you can even say them. You could’ve sworn you hid it away! Even you find yourself losing it on occasion!
“I- You- How did you-?” You stumble on your words, trying to find the right ones as a wave of confusion and irritation hits you.
“I know everything, that includes where you’re most likely to hide your things.” They say, waving your journal around like it’s some kind of toy.
With an indignant sputter, you snatch the journal out of their hands, surprising them for a moment. Then, they put their hands behind their back once more, simply looking at you.
”This- This is private, okay?” You say, gesturing to the book. “Do not read it!”
They let out a small “oh!” before tilting their head to the side, their smile widening as they stare at you with something you hope to god isn’t fondness. You can’t do this with them right now.
”Don’t worry about that!” They say, “I don’t need to!”
“You— Sorry?”
You had expected more of a fight from him, maybe a small argument. You hadn’t expected him to listen just like that. Some part of you was relieved, maybe even proud of him for respecting your boundaries.
”Mhm! I already know what you wrote in there anyways!”
Ah. There it is.
“You know you can’t hide things from me, right?” He asks, pinching your cheek like you’re a child. “I’m your friend, so there’s really no need to try!”
That’s the problem! Even if he is your “friend”, you still want to have something that is your own, which is proving to be impossible with him constantly taking what is yours.
With a glare, you slap his hand away. You can tell he doesn’t like that you did that, but you don’t really care what he likes at the moment. You don’t even give him the satisfaction of being able to voice his complaints as you make your way to the door.
Sometimes it feels like Verity was only sent to you to piss you off.
Seriously! You don’t know what you did to deserve such a punishment, but whatever it was must’ve been horrible if it warrants Verity finding your location.
You didn’t exactly need a secret base, but it was something you wanted. It’s something you think everyone wants. Oh, but not Verity, of course! Never Verity.
He’s basically hanging off of you as you stand with your arms crossed, pouting like you’ve committed the worst crime known to man. To him you probably have. He always gets so pissy when you try to have one thing to yourself.
Whining your name, they try to shake you, wanting a response to whatever they had said while you were busy thinking about how annoying they could be.
”What? What do you want, Verity?” You ask, wondering if you could maybe get them to let you have this if you talked.
Your tone doesn’t seem to help much, but it’s not like you can hide it! He knows everything, yeah? Then he knows how upset you are.
”Why do you hate me?” They mumble, sounding so small as they lean into your back.
You groan, hating how dramatic he is. “I don’t hate you, Verity, I just-“
”You wouldn’t have a secret base if you didn’t.” They argue.
”Yeah, well, it’s not very secret anymore, is it?” You bite back sarcastically.
They don’t respond to that, instead forcing their head into the crook of your neck. It’s an uncomfortable feeling; their breath on the back of your neck. It makes the hair on your neck raise.
You open your mouth again, though you’re unsure of what you might say. Maybe you’ll ask how he knew where to find you, or maybe it’ll be some sort of thinly veiled threat. Either way, a part of you is glad he interrupts you.
”I don’t like when you keep things from me.” He mumbles, his voice sounding a tad rougher, as if he were straining himself.
”I’m—“ You attempt a rebuttal but you flinch as his hands tighten until they feel like they’re bruising you.
”I don’t like it. I thought you- I thought we were getting closer. I-I thought you were starting to like me!” His voice wavers as his volume rises. “I was going to find out anyways! You could’ve just told me!”
You flinch as his hold grows stronger and stronger, trying to wriggle out of his grip but to no avail.
”Why don’t you like me?! Why do you always- why are you like this?!”
”Verity—“
”Am I not enough? I can be smarter! I can be so much more, I swear! If you’d just-“
”Verity, that hurts!” You finally manage to blurt out. Almost instantly, Verity lets go of you. It’s like he teleports away from you, his hands up in an attempt to be nonthreatening.
There’s silence for a few seconds afterwards, the two of you simply staring at one another. A part of you is livid that they have the gall to look like they’re the scared one.
Despite having a very simple face, they could be quite expressive. Their eyes are wide and their ever present smile is strained like they’re nervous. You don’t know if you’d rather punch that stupid grin off their face or run off and leave them to grapple with the consequences of their actions alone.
Eventually, the silence is broken by a small giggle and the sound of Verity’s footsteps retreating towards the door.
”Wow! I’ll leave you to building our secret base then!” He says, the cheer in his voice so fake it makes you sick.
You can’t have shit to yourself, can you?
It feels like everything’s against you nowadays.
All the villagers you’d normally trade with? Oh, yeah, they’re gone. Verity? They were getting on your nerves like you were a jungle gym. Do you know how difficult it is to live in a world where you have to travel for literal days to find villages that were actually lived in? Now you do! It’s really hard!
You were actually preparing for another one of your village runs now, grabbing your armor, some food, and even materials for a bed to ward off phantoms. You really wish there was some easier way to repopulate the villages literally right next to your house but the world doesn’t work like that.
”Are you ready, Verity?” You ask over your shoulder as you dig in your chest.
The creature behind you lets out a small hum, one that lets you know they have information and are basically dying to share.
”We can’t go to the village we visited last time.” They say.
You groan dramatically, throwing your head back to really display just how sick and tired you are of this. “Lemme guess, something passed through again?”
”Something hungry.” You both say at the same time, though your voice is much more mocking than his.
“Verity, I seriously can’t keep doing this with you.” You say, slamming the chest shut and pushing yourself out of your crouched position.
”Doing what?” They ask.
”This! This whole vague story you keep repeating about something coming through!” You turn to face him, only mildly surprised by how close he’d gotten when you weren’t looking. It’s a habit of his to gravitate towards you, a habit that is becoming annoying.
They don’t respond, only staring at you as their smile turns into a thin line. It’s unsettling. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
Seeing as they aren’t keen on talking yet, you continue on. “For all that knowledge you claim to have, you really don’t wanna share any of it with me, huh? Maybe if you told me what was passing through, I could stop it and—“
”You can’t.”
You let out a crazed chuckle at that, “I’m sorry?”
”You can’t stop it.” He says, his voice deathly serious. “It is hungry and it will not stop no matter what you try.”
”Oh yeah, that’s real helpful considering you still won’t tell me what it is.” You grumble, pushing past him and heading towards the door.
Verity attempts to follow you but you place a hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. He looks down at you, waiting for you to say something.
”You are staying here.” You start to explain, but they suddenly speak up once more.
”What? But I always come with you! We- You always bring me along!” They whine.
And they’re right; you have always brought them along. No matter where you went, you always had Verity somewhere nearby. They keep you company and serve as a guide to find materials you need.
”Well, not this time, Verity.” You say, not giving them an opportunity to even open their mouth before you all but rush out the door.
You’ll be fine! It’s not like Verity is a necessity or anything. You’ve lived years without him there, so what’s a few days going to hurt?
It’s day two of your journey to find a new village and you already feel like you need to collapse.
You hadn’t realized how much you depended on Verity for your sanity until you no longer had him. No unfunny jokes, no old tunes, and no conversations. Before you left you really didn’t think you’d miss them, but you do.
Add an extreme level of paranoia to the ever growing list of why you may need to see a therapist, actually, because you swear something is staring at you, but every time you turn to look, you see nothing.
Maybe you should just turn back around and go home. You can apologize to Verity and ask him if he knows any other way to get enchantments, you’re sure that he does.
It’s settled then, you’ll go back home.
You turn around with the intention of sprinting home, hoping to cut your trip back in half, but the color of the sky catches your attention before you can commit to that.
The sky is shifting from its baby blue to a pretty mix of oranges and pinks, the moon now visible and rising as the sun sets opposite to it. It’ll likely be dark before you can even build a small hut to stay the night in. Is this the world’s way of torturing you?
It’s fine. It’s whatever. You’ll just think of it as… Sleeping under the stars. That’s calming, right? You’ve done it before, you’re sure you can do it again.
You set down your crafting table and prepare your bed for the night. You consider smelting some of the ore that seemed to be a permanent fixture in your inventory, but the faster you get to sleep, the faster you get to go home.
Only half of the sun is visible when you place your bed down and it just continues to go down, slowly painting the sky a very dark blue. You reckon it’d be much prettier if you were seeing it from your balcony or window.
You aren’t the type to be afraid of the dark and you haven’t been since you were little, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be unsettling. So many monsters wait out in the night, just looking for their next kill. Anyone would be a little cautious when spending the night camping, basically just a sitting duck until morning.
Shaking your head in an attempt to dispel the thoughts, you sit down on the edge of your bed. That seems to be all you can manage though, unfortunately, as you stare off into the dark of the night.
You feel like you’re being watched. You always feel like you’re being watched, but something about this is just wrong. It makes your skin crawl and you just know you can’t go to sleep like this.
Standing up once more, you find yourself pacing around your small camp. You don’t want to go too far away from your bed, but at the same time you want to ease your mind by proving that there’s nothing nearby.
You look to the left. Nothing.
You look to the right. Also nothing.
You turn to look behind you, but not before the sound of an arrow flying through the air catches you off guard.
You see it before you actually feel it, shock momentarily nullifying the pain of having an arrow pierce through your arm.
While you were busy pacing around, a skeleton had somehow snuck up behind you. You feel a little stupid for not hearing its bones rattling beforehand, but there’s no time to think about that as you shakily pull out your sword, silently cursing the skeleton for injuring your dominant arm.
The skeleton couldn’t care less about your feelings or readiness, once more shooting at your injured arm.
“Shit-!” You gasp, turning to the side and just barely dodging the arrow.
Oh, who are you kidding? Even with a diamond sword, you can’t fight this thing! You feel pathetic admitting it, but—
Monsters don’t have the awareness necessary to be patient enough to wait for you to finish thinking. The skeleton shoots once more, nicking your side and causing you to hiss in pain.
Fine! Whatever! You’ll just think in little thoughts!
Your first little thought tells you to book it, so, with little regard for your bed and crafting table, you do just that. You ignore the throbbing pain in your arm, praying that hopefully some adrenaline will kick in and make that tomorrow’s problem.
Another arrow whizzes past you as the skeleton gives chase, falling a little behind you.
Maybe if you just keep running, you’ll lose the skeleton. Maybe you’ll manage to somehow stumble upon a shortcut and make it home. That’d be nice. Unlikely, but nice.
You start heading right instead of simply running straight. It’s harder to shoot at a moving target, right? So long as you’re careful, the dumb mob shouldn’t be able to hit you again. You’ll lose it soon, you know it.
Running in a zig-zag pattern, you hear as the sound of rattling bones gets progressively further behind you. Just a little bit longer of this wild goose chase and you’re in the clear. So long as you don’t fall or anything, you’ll be—
You let out a yelp as your ankle rolls at an uncomfortable angle. The joint gives out beneath you at the pain, causing you to crumple to the ground.
Your fall was less than graceful, leaving you with a mouthful of dirt. You didn’t even have time to process how gross that was before the skeleton shot once more. You were lucky that it had only hit the ground next to your head.
Well, this is it. This is how you die; miles away from any civilization to a mob you’ve fought plenty of times before. It would’ve been more embarrassing if you weren’t terrified at the thought of your death.
Turns out they weren’t lying when they said your life would flash before your eyes—images of Verity pop up as you slam your eyes shut, waiting for the eventual arrow to the heart. Maybe, if you were lucky, it would be a headshot instead, end your suffering quicker.
. . .
That skeleton sure is taking its time. You didn’t think they knew how to rub salt in the wound.
After a few more seconds pass with no sign of pain, you open your eyes.
”Wha—?” You startle backwards when you’re met with Verity’s face right in front of your own, him crouched down in an awkward position to look down at you.
”Is this what happens when you don’t have me around?” They ask, voice stupidly chipper for the moment, but you don’t find it in yourself to care as you throw your uninjured arm around their shoulders.
He doesn’t hesitate to return the hug, letting out a happy hum as he buries his face into your shoulder, though he retreats when you let out a soft “ow”.
“Verity,” You say his name with such awe that it doesn’t even sound like you. You’re so full of gratitude and regret that you don’t know if you should be thanking him or apologizing first.
”How… How’d you get out here?”
The question slips past your lips before you can even think about it. Your brow furrows once it processes, though. It was a good question—how did he get out here? You were hours away from the house.
You don’t get the chance to overthink it as Verity scoops you up in their arms without warning, giggling to themselves.
”I knew you were gonna get hurt and I didn’t want that to happen!” They say, holding you close to them.
”Uh… How?” Is that the only word you know how to say?
Luckily for you, Verity doesn’t seem to mind answering your questions as he begins walking in the direction you were running towards.
”You know this, silly…” They say, bouncing with every step, “I know everything.”
”I know what clothes you like, I know silly trivia, I know what you write about, I know your little ideas…”
Oh. Right. You’re really living up to that nickname, huh? You do feel silly for forgetting that, especially after all they’ve done so far.
”And I know we’re gonna have to take that arrow out at some point, just so you’re aware!”
Your gratitude is gone. You’re filled with hatred for what is to come as you glare up at him, earning you another giggle.
Hai guys! Sorry this took so long I got sucked into Criminal Minds and then got sucked into Spencer Reid x Reader fanfics (they’re so fire I love my man)
rich!hj x f!reader | substances, consumption, mental health, smut minors dni | 5.5k
♫ — the broken one, qm ft. jiung
“when you said that you wish the two of us could die together, i just pat your head and say i know.”
the best way you’d ever described your relationship is adjacent to a children’s movie, and for that comparison you feel wrong, but nothing else comes close. when alice fell down that hole and her entire world flipped upside down, changing everything she once thought she knew, it was the epitome of years of your life spent with him. you being alice, hongjoong being… everyone else. the mad hatter, cheshire cat, the red queen, white queen, the jabberwocky, the rabbit, he was everyone, all the time, all at once. your life, the riddles, everything but nothing making sense at the same time. there was nothing else you could possibly compare it to, two emotionally adolescent humans in adult bodies.
neither of you had ever been angry people by nature. in fact, you had always been deemed quite the opposite. hongjoong, older and successful, a man consumed by his work but always made time for the people around him — he shows up for birthdays, impromptu get togethers, graduations, backyard parties… despite his ever growing workload, he always put in the effort to be there. and not just be present, either. he’s always been observant, even in the beginning, showing up when you least expected it. after the longest, hardest day, with flowers and your favorite food in tow, he’s always been a true partner.
you’re not much different. the parties hongjoong always shows up to typically had you behind the curtain. planning, decorating, even picking up the tab… you’re the epitome of loyalty. devotion, creativity, passion. you’d bettered him as a person, in his work, in his relationships, in his productivity. you love to help and you love to love, you surround yourself with people who give that back to you tenfold in a heartbeat.
in the beginning, you thrived. you worked together harmoniously, you were patient with each other, compassionate, so stupidly in love…
“would you marry me?” a starless night, on the rooftop of his ever luxurious loft. his hair is black, a cigarette between his lips, his sweet chocolate eyes the brightest light amongst the dark, empty air.
you knew you had never answered any question with such a quickness as you did that one. you don’t think you’d even muttered the word no to him in the six months you’ve been together.
he handed you the cigarette he knew you were craving, a habit you picked up from him and him alone. one habit you didn’t share before you’d met. his stare is intense, the gleam in his eyes is bold, it’s saying a million words yet not one leaves his rose colored lips. words you know, words you’ve said, words he hasn’t returned. but he does, he will, eventually.
“we’re forever then,” it could be a question but it feels more like a statement, an announcement of sorts, a promise that you could never break. you had no choice in the matter, not that you needed one, not that you could imagine a life without him after so little time of knowing him.
it made you smile through the burn in the back of your throat, a long exhale leaving your lips, gray smoke following suit. in went your solitude, out came the pact you made with him under the moonlight. like the smoke, it faded into thin air, never to be taken back.
“we became forever six months ago,” you handed the cigarette back to him, your fingers touching for a just a moment in passing. his smile reached his eyes, creases in his skin that you would run your fingers over in the dim light of his bedroom. every inch of him, burned to memory.
“we became forever the day you were born, doll. just took until six months ago to find me,” the tobacco was between his lips again, wrapped around the circular stick, always glossy. never chapped, never dry, always swollen and sultry. edible.
time went on, days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years. you initially thought hongjoong didn’t have a bad side, eternally a happy and exemplary lover. to be fair, you didn’t think you had one either. there’s a saying for that, right? you bring out the worst in each other? but they’re traits that are embedded in you. when the stars aligned the day you were born, you were gifted them, wrapped in sparkling wine colored paper and you just didn’t get around to opening them until someone fought fire with fire.
you’d never yelled at a friend, let alone a lover, in your life. he’d never once been angry enough to remove himself from an entire room, have to excuse himself from the woman across from him because her voice took up too much space, smothered him in his own home. the one thing that kept you two linked, from the bedroom with the door locked to the couch all the way out in the living room, was how fucking obsessed with the other you were.
it was sick, the heaviest sensation the two of you shared. lust, love, adoration, codependency, everything came right under obsession if you could even rank your feelings. most days, everything just blended together, anyways. from the moment your eyes met, really met for the first time, it was cataclysmic, the soul you knew just by his gaze that you shared. the click that linked the two of you for life.
the air of the club was humid, wet and murky, too many people in too small of a space. you were at a sponsored event for work, dressed too classy for the place you were at, all the bodies around you covered in way less fabric. you were one track minded when it came to work — always looking upward, fighting to climb endless ranks, you could never rest. never break concentration.
until the biggest distraction stared at you three people down, stood around the curve of the bar while you waited on your cocktail. he moved with a fluidity similar to water, a wave, an ocean as he waltzed into your space. behind you, he slipped his card down over your shoulder onto your tab before you could even reach for the cash in your purse.
“nice play,” you glanced over your shoulder, greeted with teeth as white as snow, glistening hues of pink and blue from the dance floor cascading over the impressive structure of his face, “thank you.”
“a pretty drink for a pretty girl,” you glance down at the red cherries sitting in your cocktail, a mixture of yellow and orange sitting in your glass, mimicking a sunrise swirling around the cubes of ice.
a laugh escaped you, “i’d rate that pick up line a 7, i suppose.”
he answers with a shrug, “anything above a 5 is a win for me. hongjoong,” his hand reaches out to shake yours and you’re taken aback, almost shocked at the gesture of a simple handshake around the bar at a more than busy nightclub. it told you more than it should, coming up on years of business under your belt, it seemed more like a proposition than an introduction.
in that moment you saw him, you saw through him, you saw deep down inside and you couldn’t crawl your way out if you scratched and clawed your nails down to stubs. he was like you, apart of your world, higher up, even. he came from class, he came from money, he came from importance. he’s handsome, he’s gorgeous, and jesus christ he’s going to ruin your fucking life if you let him. you’d let him do anything.
your work event was long forgotten the second the two of you made eye contact, your attendance was the only thing mandatory, anyhow. a night of freedom, letting go of subjugation from your company as you spent ages with your back pressed to his front, bodies moving as one to the beat of whatever song played through the speakers. one melody after another, you don’t know how many songs have passed before you've faced him, hands around his neck, one of his legs between yours.
“you’re beautiful,” he says, noses nearly touching, wanting to curse the millimeter standing between himself and the rest of his life. a moment of pressure from you stood over his knee and he decided he’d never needed something so bad, his stomach growling with a hunger he was saving for a single taste of you.
“yeah?” your smile turned mischievous, a dangerous game you were playing, he’d strip you down in front of the entire club, fuck you in front of every man in the building. that’s if he could live with himself letting anyone besides him see you like that, which he couldn’t, of course. your outfit left too much to the imagination, tight dress pants and a white top that clung to every inch of you. he needed to know what was underneath. he could imagine, picture you beneath the cotton, he could almost feel the soft plush of your thighs on his fingertips.
“prove it,” was all you said and it sold him of the only thing he had left. his pride, the thing he savored, he’d usually let anyone else take the reins with him, want him first, so he could drop them without a second thought. you wanted me, i never wanted you. always the predator, never the prey, even under the gaze of his evermore.
anyone that came before you, the several exes, plethora of playthings, he’d easily forget them, leave them all behind for a night with you. he wouldn’t settle for just a night with you, he won’t take anything less than eternity. your thin, tiny square lenses sitting low on your nose, your hair messily wrapped up on top of your head, lipstick still perfectly applied on your lips, the way you were so meticulously put together… it was a primal urge, the need to ruin it, ruin you, keep you forever, just for himself.
you weren’t doing far off, core aching for a kiss, a touch, anything to take the edge off. something about sharing a soul meant you could see his and it stood tall and red and rippled in the wind and screamed at you to let him make the first move. he needed to lay his cards on the table, make his blood stained soul turn white, let him give himself to you before you gave yourself to him. you listened, as much as it wounded you, his glossy lips begging you to close the distance, to taste him, to hurry up and move on with eternity because time waits for no one.
you could see his internal battle, there were several going on in the mere moment that lasted for hours. the battle of your beings, still separated not yet merged, yet still transparent for the other to see. the battle of him with himself, his pride, his masculinity, this routine he’s been performing for the past six years. your battle with him, begging him to give into you, to show you what he’s made of, to show you what color he bleeds. your battle with yourself, your self control to listen to whatever is telling you to let him give in first. you knew he would, he knew he would, it was a waiting game.
once he said fuck it and he raised his white flag, his soul changed color as his lips tasted yours. one kiss in the middle of a crowded dance floor, overflowed enough that other people’s sweat was mixing with your own, music pumping through your veins, the world had shifted. tectonic plates couldn’t compare, couldn’t move you the way hongjoong did in that very moment.
this combining, this merging, this tasting of his soul, the atoms that make up his very being, you consumed it all entirely. the good, the bad, the complicated, the opulent, the rough, the agonizing, you could feel all of it in him. you needed more.
it wasn’t always like that, wasn’t always intoxicating, blinding, all consuming. the obsession was beautiful, addicting, similar to the box of tobacco you now kept in your back pocket. it translated to tenderness, intimacy, warmth, it was one of a kind. one that sparked jealousy from others, one that closed its doors on anyone who dared to peer inside. it was personal, only to be enjoyed by the two of you, never shared. no one on this fucking earth could understand you the way hongjoong could, no one could read your mind, fix what needed to be fixed before it was even broken in the first place. he was a lifeline, a savior, a backbone for you. and you were all the same to him.
he’d never thought he could love anything the way he loves you. his music, his art, his life, he’d throw everything away if that meant one more second spent with you. you were water to him the way he was air to you, the sun to him the way he was the moon to you. in every single lifetime you know hongjoong has been your missing link, two fucked up pieces that finally finished the puzzle. when put together, everything made sense. you were complete.
“mm, maybe a half an hour longer?” his smile is sheepish, almost embarrassed to say the same answer he’d given you thirty minutes prior.
a knowing smile grows on your face, how could you be mad at him? your hard working boyfriend, forever sitting behind a screen, making deadlines meet. when he said half an hour, he meant two hours. when he said twenty minutes, he meant an hour. his language is exclusive to only him, it takes someone who really knows him, really understands him for his dialect to be construed.
you went to bed, surrounded by white walls with monochromatic paintings that didn’t have any real meaning. the room was big, too big to be comforting. too empty to be lived in, especially without him beside you. it’s how the whole loft felt: picturesque, a movie set, a bed, bathroom and kitchen without being a home. you could have a photoshoot here anytime with the natural light pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows, but could you raise a family? could you settle here, in this city?
you kept your eyes closed, searching for sleep that didn’t want to be found. pulling the comforter over you, you nuzzled in, cocooned yourself into the mongolian cashmere that threatened you with its heat.
“going to sleep this early? that’s no fun,” you heard his voice before the patter of his familiar footsteps, a rhythm you’d memorized months ago. he climbs into the california king, searching for you, finding you, kissing you. “what’s got you wrapped up like this? missed me?”
you nodded, bottom lip jutting out, feeling so small even with him here, this huge bed engulfing you. you needed his heat, his touch, his skin on yours, you wanted comfort.
“my girl,” he cooed, fingers running through your hair, messily sprawled across the silk pillowcase, “i missed you too.”
kisses that were peppered along your jaw turned heated before you could notice his mood had changed. as his tongue licked up the base of your neck you whined, pressing yourself into him, mindlessly begging for more.
“needy girl,” he teased as he pulled the blankets off of you, mongolian cashmere be damned. you wore one of his shirts, oversized enough to be a dress. he pushed it up past your stomach, pleasantly surprised with the lack of anything underneath.
“ah, my needy girl is clever, hm? planned this, did you?” his smirk stretched across his face, eyes deepening to the richest, darkest brown, reflecting the ecuadorian chocolates he bought you months ago, a gift on a random thursday.
“and what if i did?” you’d been pleading for him to come to bed for ages, begging him to fill more space in this empty room. you’d been prepared to try anything, stopped only by his mask of concentration.
“then you’re in luck,” before you knew it he’d already slipped inside you, your back arching against the texture of the percale sheets beneath you. he’d wrecked you, as he did every time, swapping spit and cum and secrets, exposing skin and feelings and truths.
every time the sex was this sweet, this melodious, he’d tell you exactly how he felt about you. he’d make you feel it.
“fuck, i fucking love you,” he was buried to the hilt, holding your face between two cold hands, “could die right here inside you a happy man.”
you couldn’t do anything but moan, clenching around him, your coming answer enough.
“want me to fill you up?” he’d asked, thrusts turning rougher, more sporadic, the finish line nearing, “yeah? give you my kids? make you a mommy?”
you locked your ankles behind his back, this wasn’t the first time you’d done this. an iud sat inside you, still working perfectly fine, his proposal wouldn’t come to fruition with you like this. you still nod, whimpers leaving your throat, low babbles of begs for him to fill you.
he always did, always carried you to the bath after, always washed your hair, your body, maybe filled you up once more if you felt like it.
“do you want to stay here? in this city?” the bath had run lukewarm at this point, but you didn’t want to separate, didn’t want to spend a moment not pressed against one another.
“for now, i think so, why?” his hand was traveling up and down your arm that hung outside the tub, your head laid against his chest.
“when we have kids… i don’t know about raising them here,” your voice was small, unsure of where his mind would go with your sudden revelation.
“we have a long way to go before then,” he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. you stayed quiet, fingertips inaudibly tapping the side of the tub.
“this been bothering you?” his other hand moves to grip your jaw, a light touch to twist your head, making you look up at him.
“i wouldn’t say it’s bothering me, but anything can happen, i was just thinking about it,” even the bathroom is too big, too lifeless to be a home. marble tile, his and hers vanities, a detached, massive shower, a bidet on the toilet. you couldn’t picture smaller you’s running around in here.
“we’re already playing with fire, i guess,” he leans his head back on the tub, “where do you dream of going? if i could build a house from the ground up for you, where? what would it look like?”
like a scene from the notebook, your heart twisted, bursting at the seams with the unbelievable amount of what you felt for him. so you told him, a rancher, a farm, somewhere quiet and peaceful. a house that felt lived in, one appropriate to raise a family, one that wasn’t perfectly dusted and organized all the time. picture frames littering shelves, toys randomly left across the house, clothes on the floor of the bedroom. you wanted normalcy, you wanted warmth, you wanted a family.
he wanted nothing more than to give you that. within two weeks he’d been in contact with several realtors, purchasing land on the countryside, finding the perfect plot for you two to raise your little family. he’d pictured you in a pair of boots, a tee shirt, an old, big pair of overalls. your stomach swollen, hair messily wrapped up, walking in the barn, feeding the chickens. his heart warmed, and his dick so quickly rose again, twitching behind your back.
how a love so beautiful, so unique could get so fucked up, you couldn’t understand, not even three years later. you didn’t want to understand, though, and neither did he. you don’t care, neither of you do, because the only thing that matters is that he is still near you. close to you. breathing your air, touching your skin, whispering the most vile shit into your ear, he is here. you needed him closer, needed him so close that you merged into one. it’s never enough, it’ll never be enough, more of him, always more of him, always more of you.
he felt the same way. your breath on his skin, your saliva drying on his neck, he wanted more. he wanted it messier, he wanted it sloppier. he wanted it to never end. but the two of you will never end because you’re meant for each other, right? there’s no one else on this planet for him, billions of people and he’s found his other half already. she’s under him, she’s breathing, she’s screaming, she’s beautiful. he’s so lucky.
which is why it makes sense to no one that they don’t see either of you anymore. usually one of you, here and there, never together. never holding hands, never smiling at each other, never touching the other one’s hair, never fixing the other one a plate. never together, but yet rarely apart. as far as everyone knows, you’re still together, they think? you are, you tell them that you are, hongjoong tells them that you are, but poor yeosang can’t understand why he doesn’t see his friends anymore. he misses their smiles, their laughs, their humor, their parties, their love. you miss it too, sometimes.
the truth is, your shared codependency turned into some warped fucking version of destruction where neither of you can stand to see other next to someone else. at clubs, at bars, at those backyard parties with your friends, god forbid you get too close to san. you swear to that same god if hongjoong spoke three more words to mina he’d be sleeping on the couch for weeks.
everyone noticed, everyone could pick up on it easily. the side eye, outright glares across the room, hongjoong’s hand around your wrist like a pair of handcuffs. you couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed at your friend’s glances, their eyebrows furrowing in confusion, their questions that sat heavy in thin air without ever being spoken. you were too worried about what hongjoong was thinking. how angry he’d be, what it’d be like when you got home, if he’d even say a word to you the rest of the night.
hongjoong was already cooking up his testimony, ready to tell you to stop being fucking insane and our friends are just friends, yet the double standard was always there. you’d use the same arguments against each other, have the same rebuttals. it got you nowhere, there was no resolution, there was just his california king and percale sheets. the cashmere blanket that laid over every argument, tucking it away tightly until the next time you unveiled it.
as much as your love fucked you up, made your brain not fucking work correctly, you couldn’t bear to think of a day where you’d be apart. couldn’t imagine your future not spent in that rancher on the countryside, children and chickens running amok.
when he told you his job was relocating him to the states, yet another huge city, you couldn’t breathe. for a full minute you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t answer him, you couldn’t function. your lifeline, your savior, your water, your moon, leaving you.
“i’ll start looking for a place for us,” he said so casually, too casually, scrolling on his phone, not even looking at you. the breath was sucked from your lungs, you wouldn’t be surprised if your face was blue.
“no, i won’t go,” you murmured out, clearly, unlike the stumbling of words in your mind, hot tears in your eyes and strain on your voice. you sat up in the california king, goosebumps raising on your bare body in the too cold bedroom.
“huh?” he finally tore his eyes from the screen, “what do you mean no?”
“i won’t fucking go, joong! you’re asking me to pick up my life and move to another country for your stupid job?” anger flushed through your veins, your voice raised, fire in your eyes. you turned to him in the bed, not even bothering to cover yourself with the sheets.
“my stupid job? my stupid job that pays for this place? pays the bills?” he sat up too quickly, his eyes were wide and oh boy was he angry, you hit a nerve there.
“i can pay the bills just as easily as you and you know that, hongjoong,” you bark back, tears close to boiling as they stream down your face, “i can’t leave my life. my career, my stability, my future, what the fuck did you think i was going to say? huh? yeah sure! let’s move out of the country! are you out of your goddamn mind?”
“your future? what the fuck am i then? just a placeholder for now?” he’s laughing with wide eyes and oh fuck it’s maniacal, ring covered fingers tugging at his white blonde roots. “i fucking knew it. you never planned a real future with me then, did you? all that talk about getting married, having kids, all of it just a fucking lie? a sick little joke to keep me with you, paying the rent? funding your little shopping sprees?”
“fuck you, hongjoong, you fucking know that’s not true,” you’re sobbing now, his words hitting their mark. you stood up and walked out to the living room, pulling the white, soft blanket with you.
your dream, your future, your life, crumbling around you. hongjoong was air to you, your moon, controlling the tide that pushed and pulled you closer or farther away from one another.
you’d never been dependent on anyone before him, never needed a moon to your sun, you shone brightly all by yourself at all times. even now, with him, you could easily survive without him. financially, at least. even in this big, lifeless loft you could support yourself, you were just as successful as he was, after all. but emotionally? actually living a life that he wasn’t involved in? you don’t think you’d survive it.
you could leave here, move with him, restart your life somewhere else. you wanted to do that, but in the countryside, this situation is completely different. this isn’t a choice. this is someone else making a decision and everyone expecting you to follow suit. what about what you needed? what about your job, that you adore? spent years climbing to where you are, you now have an entire team working under you. what about that team? your coworkers? your family, living close by? your friends, oh god your friends, ones you haven’t seen in an embarrassing amount of time… only months past twenty six, you could technically restart if you needed to. you just don’t want to. you needed hongjoong to not want to, either.
a moment barely passed before he’s beside you on the couch, tears pouring down your cheeks, face buried in the crook of his neck. he’s rubbing your back, kissing your head, whispering sweet nothings that’d always calm you when you broke down like this. he knows how to fix you, always stitching back together what he tore apart.
two months later, and you didn’t end up on that plane beside him. he had you really convinced, though, in the same way you convinced yourself: you’d leave your job, find one similar to yours in LA, climb the ranks, and be as successful as you are here, but there. you’d be just as devoted, passionate, happy.
ultimately, he thought he knew best, like he always does. he thinks he knows you better than you know yourself, sometimes. he knows you love your job, love your team, your coworkers, you love your position. you spent ages crawling your way up there. you love your friends, your family, you couldn’t leave them behind and still be happy. you’re a loyal woman in every aspect of your life, with your lover, your friends, your career. every small string is attached to what makes you, you. he knows you’d never be as happy as you are in this city, but he also knows you’d never let him go without you. so he left without a goodbye, without a parting gift, a farewell kiss, a last departing whisper of an i love you.
he left you alone, broken, empty.
a shell of who you once were.
what he didn’t take into consideration is that you love him more than anything, anyone. you were inconsolable. your friends didn’t know what to do with you. they wondered why you weren’t at hongjoong’s going away party, why they haven’t heard from you, they didn’t know everything he did was in secret. how word didn’t get passed around to you, you didn’t know, you were still furious about it. they didn’t know how to help you, they couldn’t even start to make sense of why your boyfriend of years would leave you without a second word. neither could you. they couldn’t wrap their minds around how you didn’t know he was leaving. neither could you.
that one long day you spent at work, coming home to a cold, massive, empty fucking apartment. not a trace of him, not one small sign that he ever lived there in the first place. he took all his clothes with him, all of his equipment for work, even his little trinkets… all gone. disappeared into thin air. how could you not fucking know?
you took almost a week off from work. something you rarely did, you felt like you couldn’t catch up, couldn’t manage your insanely busy schedule if you did take some personal time. but this was different. it wasn’t a week spent relaxing somewhere warm, it wasn’t a vacation, it wasn’t happy at all. you thought you felt your world crumble around you when he first broke the news, this was the real thing. this was the past three years of your life that had been devoted to one singe person, the person that mattered most, the person that you’d cross oceans and go to war for and he plucked himself directly from your life.
mina, yuna, yeosang, mingi… they were at your apartment around the fucking clock. they didn’t leave you alone, it was suffocating. you hadn’t left your bed for days, you weren’t eating, you weren’t drinking, you were too busy staring at the space above your dresser where a picture of the two of you once lived.
he didn’t call. in the year you spent apart, while you built yourself again piece by piece, rewiring your very brain chemistry, he didn’t call you. he blocked your number, blocked your social medias, blocked your family. you went through every outlet at first, every friend you shared, trying again and again, begging for just a conversation with him. never once did you get through, never once did you hear how he was, how the states are different from here, how he’s been eating, who he’s been with… god, who has he been with? he’s yours, no one else’s.
you lost weight, you lost sleep, you lost your drive, you lost yourself, fifty percent of you. your soul was somewhere so far you couldn’t feel it, couldn’t access it, in an entirely different fucking country, tens of thousands of miles away from you. bottles of liquor now sat in your pantry, cartons of cigarettes sprawled across the kitchen table, every hour of your free time spent in solitude, months upon months of you driving yourself mad.
you thought your bedroom felt empty before, unwelcoming, frigid, dispiriting, you couldn’t imagine being there without him, yet now you couldn’t bring yourself to go elsewhere. you took it for granted, having him here, you felt guilty for even thinking that you’d be happier somewhere else when you had the only thing you’ve ever needed in your possession.
but a year later, he stood on your doorstep, a doorstep you once shared. a doorstep that has seen you pressed up against the frame with his hand inside your skirt, a doorstep that’s listened to your meaningless arguments on your way home from an event, a doorstep that’s watched as you bid visitors goodbye. he’s there, he’s breathing, he’s living, he’s close to you. not close enough.
the earth had turned gray, the sunniest of days couldn’t make the city look saturated in the year you spent apart. all the usual too loud noise had turned to whispers, all the business couldn’t inflict an ounce of motivation in you. within seconds of seeing his face everything was colorful, the city had sound again, it was if someone flicked a switch sewn into your back.
“you’re a real piece of shit,” you bark out, opting to shut the door in his face. his foot slides between the door and the frame, his hand lurching forward to hold it open.
“i’m here,” is all he says, and you pause, looking up to him. he is here, and he’s real, and you can’t stop the tears from forming.
hi friends! first post of my work on here <3 i have not posted any of my writing since i was probably 16... pls be nice to me
massive shoutout to @chimivx, thank you for getting me back into it and giving me the courage to post :,) love u forever
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PLEASE DO PART 2 OF SAL WITH POPULAR READER IT WAS SO CUTE😭❤️❤️❤️❤️
Sal Fisher X Reader (popular trope)
The Mask
this is part two but i changed my user and lost all the links on here but you should be able to find the first part on the masterlist!!!!
Chat this is way more tender than showing off the popular stuff. But i hope to bring justice after all this time 😭😭 This is technically a part two, like now months after of getting close. They’re dynamic now is being very friendly and weirdly close because both the reader and Sal are stupid
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚The horror movie wasn’t even that good. The plot was all over the place, the killer had a laughably bad mask, and the jump scares were so predictable that Larry had started mocking them out loud before they happened.
the three of you had ended up crammed into Sal’s bed his tiny, creaky bed pressed shoulder to shoulder under a single threadbare blanket while the glow of the TV flickered dimly across the room. Sal was in the middle, naturally. It started innocently enough. You’d sprawled out across the edge of the mattress first, claiming the wall side because you said it made you feel safe during horror movies. Larry flopped down next to you with zero grace, mumbling about how his ass was falling asleep from sitting on the floor. Sal, caught between the two of you, had hesitated only slightly before sitting, then laying back, sandwiched between you and his best friend.
Now, here you were. Trapped between the cool wall and the even cooler boy you had far too many complicated thoughts about.
You could feel the warmth of Sal’s arm brushing against yours every time he shifted. He was stiff at first, like he was hyper aware of the space or lack of it but over time, he’d relaxed into it, perhaps forgetting he was in between two people with vastly different personal space boundaries. Larry’s knee kept nudging Sal’s leg as he shifted around, while Sal’s hand occasionally bumped yours when he reached to adjust the volume or grab the popcorn bowl.
You weren’t even paying attention to the movie anymore. Your eyes were fixed on the screen, but your brain was a blur focused on how close Sal’s shoulder was to yours.
Now over the past few months, you've gotten very close to the gang. Especially Sal having been the first person to meet out of everyone. Anytime you weren’t with the cheer squad, you can bet your money that you'd be with sal any left over time you have. Though with him so close it made you reflect when you started to have that fuzzy feeling.
“I swear this thing is rigged,” Sal declared, slumping onto the carpet with a thud. “There’s no way you beat me again”
Todd, deadpan, didn’t even glance up from his Game Boy. “You lost. Again. face it sal, when it comes to tech im just better.”
It should’ve been just another silly moment like the dozens you’d already shared. You’d known Sal for over a year now, spent hours beside him investigating things you probably shouldn’t, watching horror movies until sleep claimed one of you first, and wandering the neighborhood talking about everything and nothing.
“I dunno, Todd,” Ash chimed in, laying across the couch upside down with her hair dangling off the edge. “Kinda feels like demonic assistance.”
Sal pointed a dramatic finger at her. “Thank you. Finally, someone with eyes.”
You snorted from your spot on the beanbag chair. “You sure it’s not just your lack of hand eye coordination? Or the fact that you panic every time the blocks get fast?”
Sal propped himself up on one elbow, mask tilted just enough to show the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. “I’ll have you know, I am a master of panic. I’ve built my whole life around it.”
“Clearly,” you teased. “You died like three times in under a minute.”
“sick of you to call me out like this in front of my peers,” he huffed. “I’m a sensitive soul.”
Ash cackled. “You’re about as sensitive as a brick.”
Sal threw a pillow at her. “I thought you were on my side you freak”
Ash gasped. “Y/n has my heart, try harder bitch”
You raised your hands, grinning. “Don’t blame me for your failures”
Sal turned toward you, sitting cross legged now. “So what were you both talking about”
“Kyle!” Ash laughed. “Yes, and apparently he wrote Jessica a love poem that he accidentally printed on the back of the science quiz handouts.”
Todd finally looked up, blinking. “That was real? I thought that was a formatting error.”
Sal looked like he was about to pass out from joy. “That’s the most tragic thing I’ve ever heard.”
You burst into laughter again, curling into the beanbag as your sides started to ache. You barely noticed the way your eyes drifted to Sal how relaxed he looked. His legs sprawled out, one hand resting lazily over his knee, the other tossing a Cheez It at Ash’s face. His hair was slightly messier than usual, and his voice was rough from all the laughing. He looked so alive, just glowing in his own sarcastic, effortless way. You’d spent so many afternoons like this at his side during investigations, trading secrets, hanging out until your eyes drooped shut.
Well. Your heart did something. But the second you realized your stare might last too long, Ash turned to you and squinted. “Y/N, you’ve been weirdly quiet. What’s that face about?”
You instantly waved her off, grabbing a nearby pillow and throwing it at her. “Please. im just having flash backs to class, Ms. Peterson’s insane obsession with sweater vests.” change the direction of this questioning worked effortlessly.
Ash laughed. “No, seriously, what is up with that? She wore a glittery one last Friday. Like bedazzled with rhinestones.”
Todd chimed in, glancing up. “Technically, those weren’t rhinestones. They were imitation crystal beads.”
Ash blinked at him. “How do you even know that?”
“I read the morning announcements. There was a fundraiser.”
Sal snorted. “You guys are just jealous you can’t rock a crystal bedazzled vest like Peterson.”
You leaned forward with a grin. “Oh, yeah? Prove it. Come to school tomorrow with a glittery vest, Fisher.”
He turned to you with mock sincerity. “Y/N, if I had one, I would burn it in an instant, dont try me”
You giggled. “Sal, I dare you to wear a bedazzled vest next Friday.”
“Absolutely not,” he said immediately. “I have standards.”
Ash leaned over. “Even if we pay you?”
“Especially if you pay me. I won’t be bribed into that shit.”
“You’re no fun.”
“I am plenty fun. I just don’t want to look like a disco ball during third period.”
You laughed, and it slipped out easier than usual. That warmth was still there in your chest, but you ignored it. Let it settle. You nudged Ash again, changing the subject quickly. “Anyway. Did you hear about what happened during gym today?”
Ash lit up instantly. “Oh my god, yes. Mike tried to do a backflip and ended up hitting Coach in the face!”
“He what?!” Sal exclaimed,
Todd shook his head, lips twitching. “And I missed this?”
“Coach had a whistle in his mouth and choked on it,” you said, trying not to wheeze. “They had to do the Heimlich.”
Ash added, “Mike cried and swore he was just trying to get the attention of a girl in class.’”
Sal was giving a deadpan “I can’t take any of you seriously anymore.”
“That’s fair,” you said with a grin, feeling the moment settle in like a warm blanket. You didn’t mention the way Sal’s voice sounded when he was laughing like that or how he stole glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking. Anyways that was a small moment that made you realize you might’ve had it bad for the guy beside you. Like to preface though, Since the beginning you've always thought he was cute.
Larry, on the other hand, was having the time of his life.
“Dude, did you see that?” Larry said, laughing with his mouth half full of popcorn. “The guy just walked right into the room with the creepy ass doll like he wanted to die.”
Sal gave a small laugh. “You’d do the same thing.”
“Nah, I’d throw hands with the ghost.”
“You can’t punch ghosts, dumbass,” Sal murmured, tone dry.
“Bet.”
You snorted softly, stifling your laugh with the back of your hand. Sal turned his head slightly at the sound, and for a second, your eyes met. His hair was slightly messy from leaning back, the soft blue strands catching the glow of the TV light. You felt your breath catch for a moment before you turned back to the screen. The silence that followed was heavier than it should have been. Sal looked away first. Another jump scare came on some screeching violin noise and a face popping up in the mirror. You jumped a little out of instinct, and your hand brushed against Sal’s again. This time, neither of you pulled away.
Larry didn’t notice. He was too busy making ghost noises and tossing popcorn into the air to catch in his mouth.
“I’m just saying,” he mumbled through another handful, “this killer sucks. If I were in this movie, I’d be the final dude, for sure.”
“Final girl,” you corrected automatically, teasing. “That’s the trope.”
“I’d be the final badass, dont bring gender into this.”
Sal let out a quiet chuckle. You turned your head just enough to glance at him again. He looked relaxed now, nestled between the two of you, his bangs falling over the edge of his mask. The bed dipped slightly beneath your hips, everything too close and far too warm, but you didn’t want to move. You could feel the slow, even rhythm of his breathing. His fingers curled slightly when they brushed yours again accidental, maybe but they didn’t move away. You didn’t either.
Your voice was quiet when you spoke next. “I thinks it’s pointless to pay attention to whatever plot they're trying to do.”
Sal hummed softly. “You’re right.”
Larry, sprawled at the foot of the bed now, his long legs hanging off the edge, yawned. “You guys wanna turn it off?”
You shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. We can let it play out”
The movie droned on in the background. Some character screaming. A door slamming. The warmth of Sal beside you, the ridiculous commentary from Larry, the soft creak of the old bed beneath your bodies.
None of it made sense.
it felt like the kind of night you’d remember for a long time. when Sal’s pinky finally, cautiously, hooked around yours, You didn’t let go.
Looking back af the screen. The movie had reached a new low. The antagonist had suddenly sprouted wings, apparently possessed by the ghost of some ancient demon priest who spoke entirely in Latin. Larry had just finished mocking the last jump scare with an exaggerated scream and a pillow swing before everything finally, mercifully, quieted down again.
SNNOOOORRRT.
The sound cut through the room like a chainsaw through silence. You and Sal both flinched instinctively, heads snapping in unison toward the other side of the bed. There, sprawled diagonally across the mattress like a starfish, was Larry. His mouth hung open just enough to catch flies, and one leg was draped off the side. His chest rose and fell with each obnoxiously loud snore each one somehow louder and more theatrical than the last.
You stared at him for a moment in stunned silence. Then glanced at Sal. Sal was already looking at you. You didn’t even try to hold it in you burst into giggles, muffling the sound against your hand. “Holy crap,” you whispered between snorts, “is he alive? That sounds like a damn chainsaw.”
Sal blinked a few times, then snorted too. “He does that when he sleeps in weird positions. Sometimes I have to check he’s not choking on his own tongue.”
That only made you laugh harder, your shoulder bumping into Sal’s as you leaned against the wall behind you for support. Larry shifted slightly, letting out another guttural snore, then smacked his lips and mumbled something incoherent like, “Nah, man…tuna doesn’t even talk…” before rolling over.
You wiped a tear from your eye, still grinning. “I really like your friends.”
Sal turned to look at you, still smiling faintly. “…Yeah?”
You nodded, the laughter slowly settling into a fond warmth in your chest. “They’re so weird. Like, weird weird. But in the best way. It’s kinda refreshing.”
Sal didn’t reply immediately, but he looked at you with a softness you hadn’t seen all night quiet, thoughtful, a little shy. “They grow on you,” he finally said, voice low. “I wouldnt trade them”
You gave him a lopsided grin. “You’re all a mess, but I love it. It’s… nice. Being here.”
He looked down briefly, then back at you. The glow of the TV flickered over the curve of his mask, casting little shadows across the stitched mouth. “…It’s nice having you here too,” he murmured.
For a beat. Just sat there his pinky still lightly hooked around yours, Larry still snoring like a freight train beside you, and the TV screen casting a soft light across the room full of haunted masks, scattered notebooks, and a lingering warmth that neither ghosts nor horror movies could quite touch. in that quiet moment, the scariest thing wasn’t the movie on screen. It was how much you didn’t want this to end.
The movie finally ended with a whimper literally. Some distant scream echoed through a crumbling church, the screen cut to black, and the credits rolled in awkward silence, accompanied by a weirdly cheerful piano score that absolutely didn’t fit the vibe. Sal reached for the remote, turned the volume down, and let out a soft breath. “That was… something.”
“Yeah,” you murmured, trying not to laugh. “Top tier trash.”
“Totally gonna recommend it to Todd.”
You turned your head slowly toward him “You’re evil.”
He shrugged, feigning innocence. “He made me sit through that documentary on haunted ink last week. This is payback.”
You let out a soft snort and leaned your head back against the wall again. The room had grown quiet, aside from the occasional creak of the floorboards and the SNOOOORRRT from the other side of the bed. Larry had somehow managed to rotate even more in his sleep. His arm now stretched across Sal’s chest like he was guarding him from a night demon, one leg slung over the edge of the mattress, the other pinning your ankle down like it was holding a prize hostage.
You blinked down at the limb. “Uh…”
Sal looked too. You both slowly scanned the human barricade between freedom and the floor.“…We’re stuck,” Sal said plainly.
“Caged,” you whispered dramatically. “By the beast.”
Sal stifled a laugh, trying not to move too much under Larry’s deadweight arm. “I can’t even feel my side anymore.”
You poked Larry’s leg with your toe. “I think his soul left his body like ten minutes ago. He’s in another realm now.”
“He’s in his own world,” Sal said, voice light with amusement. You looked at him and smiled. It was easy to joke with him like this. Easy to sit here in the dark, with your arms lightly pressed together, and the weight of Larry’s unconscious limbs holding you hostage.
“Guess we’re staying here, huh?” you murmured.
“Looks like it.” Neither of you moved. Sal’s arm was warm where it rested close to yours, and you could feel the rise and fall of his chest under Larry’s draped arm. The glow from the TV dimmed a little more as the credits faded to black completely.
You sighed. “Not the worst place to be trapped.”
“…Yeah,” he said quietly.
Then Larry mumbled in his sleep “Tell ‘er she forgot the waffles…”
You both burst out laughing again, trying not to shake the bed too much. The laughter faded slowly, melting into a gentle hush the screen now pitch black, and Larry… well, Larry was definitely somewhere deep in dreamland.
You glanced down at the tangle of limbs surrounding you, then turned your head toward Sal with a dramatic sigh. “Well,” you said in a resigned voice, “it seems we have no choice.”
Sal tilted his head, mask catching a faint gleam from the now dim TV light. “…No choice?”
You gave him a mock serious look, eyes wide. “Fate has spoken. We’ve been claimed by the bed. Escape is impossible.”
His lips twitched into a small smile. “So what you’re saying it’s bedtime now?”
“I mean, what other options do we have?” you gestured at Larry’s arm sprawled over his chest and leg flopped across your own. “Unless you’ve got secret teleportation powers you’ve been hiding from me, I think we’re stuck in here for the long haul.”
Sal chuckled softly, shoulders shaking just a bit beneath the weight of Larry’s dead arm hug. “You’re not wrong.”
You wiggled a little, adjusting yourself beneath the blanket and the wall of limbs. “Okay, if we’re stuck here, I’m gonna get at least some comfort out of this.”
Then, before you could second guess yourself, you shifted closer, turning slightly until your head gently rested against Sal’s chest. your temple pressed near his shoulder, nestled just enough to be cozy without smothering. It gave both of your sides a little more breathing room from the dreaded Larry Trap™, but it also… well. It felt nice.
Sal went still. Not tense, exactly. You could feel the way his breath caught for a second before slowly evening out again. His body was warm beneath you, the gentle rise and fall of his chest oddly soothing against your cheek. The soft cotton of his shirt smelled faintly like laundry detergent and something you could only describe as Sal.
Then, in that low, careful tone he used when he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming “…This okay?”
You nodded a little against him. “Yeah. It’s nice. You’re comfy.”
Sal huffed a quiet laugh barely more than a breath but you felt it, vibrating faintly through his chest. His hand, still resting near yours beneath the blanket, inched just slightly closer. You felt your eyelids grow heavier, lulled by the warmth, the softness, the strange, peaceful intimacy of being squished between a snoring cryptid and someone who made your heart beat a little faster every time he so much as looked your way. “…Night, Sal,” you murmured sleepily.
“Night,” he whispered back.
A few quiet minutes passed. Your body had started to melt into sleep heavy, warm, and full of that fuzzy comfort that only came when you truly felt safe. But something stirred just enough to nudge you back toward wakefulness. You blinked your eyes open slowly. The TV had shut off completely now. The shadows in the room were soft, shifting slightly with the moonlight coming in through the window. You tilted your head just a little, eyes drifting up.
Sal was still awake. He hadn’t moved much barely breathed too deeply but you could feel it in the tension in his chest, the way his hand hadn’t quite relaxed beside yours, and most of all… in the quiet presence of his mask still sitting snug against his face.
You stared at it for a second, unsure why it pulled at your heart the way it did. Not because it was strange or unwelcome it was him, after all. But because he was still holding onto something. Even here. Even now. Not that you minded not really. It was part of him. But… even now? When everything else felt so relaxed?
Your voice came out as a soft whisper, so quiet it barely stirred the air between you. “…Hey, Sal?” He hummed softly in response, his chest rising gently beneath your cheek. “…Are you comfortable sleeping in it?”
There was a pause. A beat. You felt him shift, maybe in surprise. Then, quietly, he murmured, “Yeah. I’m fine with it on.”
You didn’t press. You didn’t ask why or if he was sure. You just gave him a soft smile, voice low and kind as your hand lightly brushed his side. “Okay. Just… wanna make sure you’re comfortable, too.”
The silence returne You didn’t expect him to say anything else. You didn’t even lift your head. Just closed your eyes again and let yourself settle back into the rise and fall of his breathing. Soft movement. You felt his hand slowly rise near his face, and heard it the faint sound of buckles. A click. A slide of straps.
Your heart fluttered. You stayed there, resting against him, He laid it down beside the bed, the soft thud of it muffled by the blanket. His chest exhaled fully in a mildly shaky way beneath you for the first time that night.
His arms moved. Then one wrapped gently around your shoulders, the other folding beneath your arm, pulling you just slightly closer just enough that your side was pressed into his, Instead, you felt his hand slide gently around your shoulder, the other tucking under your back as he pulled you in carefully, cautiously, like you were something fragile and precious. Your head nestled closer beneath his chin, skin against skin now. The warmth of his cheek rested near the crown of your head. His heart beat slow and steady beneath your ear, and the faintest brush of his breath stirred your hair as he held you like it was the first time he’d let himself truly breathe.
“I don’t… usually do this,” he murmured, voice barely more than a thread.
“I know,” you whispered.
your fingers lightly curled into the fabric of his shirt, your eyes fluttering shut again as sleep tugged at you like waves lapping against the shore. “…Thank you,” he whispered, so soft you might’ve imagined it.
You slept.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚Morning crept in slowly through Sal’s bedroom window, pale light casting soft streaks across the floor. The warmth of the sun bled into the room, brushing over clothes on the floor, empty snack bags from the night before, and a muted horror movie DVD case teetering on the edge of the nightstand.
The room was still peaceful. Well… until a certain someone began to stir. Larry groaned as he stretched, hair a complete mess, one leg still draped over part of the bed like a corpse washed ashore. He scratched at his head with a yawn that could wake the dead, blinking slowly as his eyes adjusted to the daylight.
“Ugh… why the fuck does my back hurt so much,” he muttered to himself.
Then he paused, eyes drifting lazily to his left… and stopped cold. Sal was still fast asleep, flat on his back, lips parted slightly as he breathed evenly. And you were right on top of him, curled up against his chest like a cat, arm tucked across his stomach, one leg haphazardly resting over his. Sal’s arms were wrapped loosely around your shoulders, and his mask Gone. Completely gone.
Larry’s eyes widened, and a wide, giddy grin began to tug at his face. “…No. Freaking. Way.”
He grabbed his phone off the nightstand like it was the Holy Grail, and with the stealth of someone absolutely used to sneaking snacks at 2 a.m., he held it up and started snapping photos like a proud parent.
Click. One from the side your cheek smooshed into Sal’s chest.
Click. One a little closer Sal’s fingers curled softly into your hoodie sleeve.
Click click click.
Larry was giggling like a little girl, nearly silently, shaking with laughter as he zoomed in on the most disgustingly adorable sleep cuddle combo he’d ever seen. “Homeboy is getting it while I was in bed, Im kinda grossed out” he whispered to himself.
You stirred first. A sleepy groan left your throat as your eyes fluttered open, still half lidded and dazed. You blinked up in confusion, chin still resting against Sal’s chest. “…Larry?”
Sal, still dozing, gave a small hum, barely lifting his head. Larry froze, phone held in midair like he’d been caught robbing a bank.
Then your eyes focused. Your voice, raspy and heavy with sleep, came out in a groggy warning: “…Are you taking pictures?”
Larry grinned. “Don’t mind me. Just documenting the rare and elusive Wholesome Sal Cuddle Beast in his natural habitat.”
Sal groaned beneath you burying his face into your hair. “Larry…”
You let your head drop back to Sal’s chest with a sigh reaching your arm out. “gimme your phone.”
“No can do,” Larry said, flopping back onto the bed dramatically with a grin so smug it could power a city. “This is the cutest shit I’ve ever seen. You two are like… its too early to compare but you both are so gross right now.”
You groaned and hid your face, too sleepy and too cozy to even fight it. Sal, still half asleep, mumbled, “This fucker.”
Larry stood at the doorway now, still grinning like a maniac as he prepared to head down the hall probably to brag to himself in the kitchen about the goldmine of photos he just captured. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned back and said with a finger gun, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do… which admittedly is very little. So, uh, good luck!”
And with that, he disappeared down the hallway cackling to himself. The door clicked shut behind him, and the room settled into silence once again.
The warmth returned almost instantly quiet, unhurried, as if the space itself wanted to return you both to the peaceful cocoon of earlier. You blinked sleepily and slowly tilted your head up from where it rested on Sal’s chest, face still nestled in the soft fabric of his shirt. Your voice was hoarse from sleep, barely above a whisper, warm with affection and the comfort of a morning that didn’t need rushing.
“…Good morning.”
Sal didn’t respond right away. His eyes were already open watching you and he smiled faint, just a curl of the lips. “Good morning,” he whispered back, voice still low from sleep, a touch dazed. “You’re still here.”
You gave a soft, sleepy laugh. “Mmhmm. Guess I didn’t sleepwalk out.”
But the moment didn’t linger quite as simply as that. Because suddenly it hit him. The air shifted in his chest. His eyes flickered slightly, darting away. His arms, still loosely around you, twitched like he was trying to pull them back without making it obvious. He sucked in a shallow breath. The mask. He wasn’t wearing his mask. His skin scarred and marred, one side melted and uneven, parts of his face twisted in ways no teenager should have to learn to accept was all out. In plain view. For you to see. His heart began to pick up, beating against your chest, almost trembling. He must look disgusting. Horrifying. Why didn’t he think about it? Larry saw fine. Whatever. Larry didn’t care. Hes known him long enough that hes seen him before. But you? You were still here. Still on him. Still close enough to see every detail.
His body stiffened ever so slightly. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move, either. Just braced for whatever was coming whether it was a flinch, a quiet “I’ll let you get dressed,” or the worst… silence. That dreaded kind of silence.
But it never came. Because when he finally risked looking down at you again… You were just looking at him. Softly. Your eyes were lidded still from sleep, but they held nothing except calm like this was the most natural thing in the world. Like the boy in front of you, as he was, didn’t need to apologize for anything. Your hand gently moved, fingers brushing the edge of his jaw in the quietest touch.
“Hi,” you murmured, still smiling faintly.
Sal’s breath caught in his throat.
He couldn’t say anything at first. His throat felt tight, like emotion had quietly wrapped around it while he wasn’t paying attention. He blinked a few times unsure if he was trying to keep the moment or convince himself it was real.
“…You’re not looking away,” he finally said, barely a whisper.
“Why would I?” you replied, your voice just as soft. “It’s just you.”
That simple sentence held the weight of a thousand reassurances.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚The sun hung high over the school courtyard, casting sharp shadows on the cracked pavement of the outdoor cheer practice area. The sounds of sneakers squeaking, laughter, and upbeat music from someone’s speaker filled the air as you and the rest of the cheer team moved through another round of drills.
Your body moved on autopilot now high knees, arms tight, posture upright. The routine was muscle memory, but the heat made your shirt cling to your back and your ponytail stick annoyingly to your neck. Still, the energy around you was infectious.
“Alright, ladies, one more time!” Coach Hollins called out, hands clapping to the beat. “I want clean arms and sharper snaps this time. Let’s move like we mean it!”
You gave a quick nod to the two girls on either side of you Riley and Jae before falling into formation again. The team snapped into motion at the coach’s count.
“One two three, up!”
You lifted your leg into a high kick, arms raised into a perfect ‘V,’ face determined despite the burn in your thighs. Riley to your left let out a huff, shaking her head with a grin.
“You ever get tired of this?” she muttered under her breath.
“Only every second of every minute,” you whispered back, lips twitching upward.
“I heard that!” Coach Hollins barked playfully, but didn’t stop the routine.
After a few more counts, you dropped out of the line and moved to the sidelines with your small stunt group. You all grabbed water bottles and flopped onto the grass, sweat dripping, lungs still catching up.
Jae flopped dramatically onto her back beside you. “I swear this heat is trying to kill us.”
“Pretty sure it’s just the coach,” you said with a smirk, sipping from your bottle. “Sun’s innocent.”
“Oh please,” she groaned. “At this point I’d let the sun fight me. I’m already halfway dead.”
A couple other teammates laughed and plopped down beside you both, forming a loose circle of exhausted girls lying across the grass, limbs sprawled, stretching out like starfish in a sea of overtraining.
“I miss the days when practice meant jumping around for twenty minutes and eating orange slices,” Riley sighed dramatically. “Now it’s like military conditioning disguised with pom poms.”
One of the freshmen piped up, “Wait, you guys had snacks?”
Riley blinked. “You don’t?”
“Okay, okay,” said Kayla, dropping her pom poms onto the grass, “ I swear, if Trent looks at me like that one more time during math class, I’m gonna combust.”
The girls erupted into laughter around you. You leaned back onto your hands, legs stretched in front of you, catching your breath.
“hes a whore dont do it girl” another girl Jessie teased with a grin, nudging Kayla with her elbow.
“Shut up!” Kayla squeaked, face flushing.
You snorted softly and glanced at the sky for a second, internally giggling at how ridiculously teen movie this all felt. Sitting in your uniform on the grass, sweaty and giddy, talking about boys like it was the end of the world if someone didn’t text back in five minutes.
“I’m just saying,” Kayla continued with faux seriousness, “there’s something about a guy who has brains and can fuck so good at the same time. That’s dangerous.”
“He’s not even that cute,” murmured Bree, twirling a strand of her hair. “Now, Brayden from the soccer team? That’s boyfriend material.”
“Nooo,” you chimed in, shaking your head, “Brayden talks like a sentient protein shake.”
Laughter bubbled again as Bree clutched her chest dramatically. “hes hot give me a break!”
“Okay, okay, Y/N, who would you date if you had to pick?” Kayla asked, eyes narrowing with mock seriousness. “And don’t say no one. We’re not letting you wiggle out of this.”
You pursed your lips, pretending to think hard. “Hmm… does Sal Fisher count?”
Dead silence for a beat. Then the girls burst into laughter again slightly more confused this time. “Oh my god, is that the kid with the blue hair and the uh, the face thing?” Jessie asked, trying to keep her tone light.
“Yeah, the one who always wears that mask,” Bree added, stretching her legs. “You actually know him?”
“Sort of,” you shrugged, smiling to yourself. “He’s cool. Quiet, but funny in a weird way.”
The girls exchanged looks, not rude just kind of mystified. “I mean, I guess that’s kind of sweet,” Kayla said, shrugging. “But like… your group’s super different. No offense.”
“None taken,” you said brightly. “Weird’s kind of our whole brand.” They laughed again, and just like that, the moment moved on. You sat back again as the conversation turned to homecoming rumors and some sophomore drama involving lockers and glitter bombs.
The break didn’t last long Coach called for partner drills after another few minutes, and soon you were back on your feet, clapping along to counts, running through pyramid formations, and adjusting grips and stances.
Your muscles ached, sweat trailed down your spine, and the sun felt like it was trying to kiss your skin off but the rhythm of the team, the shouts of encouragement, the shared momentum it kept you going. Even if no one said it aloud, you were proud to be a part of this group.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚The group was cutting through the courtyard, skirting the edge of the cheer practice field on their way to Todd’s house. Ash was in the middle of one of her trademark complaints animated, relentless, and incredibly specific.
“I’m telling you, this guy in biology acts like smiling would kill him. I said one sarcastic thing, and he looked at me like I burned his childhood home to the ground.”
Todd nodded sympathetically. “Sounds like someone with zero sarcasm immunity.”
Larry popped a piece of gum into his mouth and muttered, “Sounds like someone who’s intimidated by a girl with actual brain cells.”
Ash smirked. “Damn right.”
Sal had been quiet, walking just a step behind them, hands in his hoodie pockets. But when they rounded the corner near the cheer practice field, something pulled at his attention.
The music blaring from a cheap speaker. The shuffle of sneakers on grass. The high pitched yelps and laughter. he saw you. You were within practice with the squad, bouncing through a set of drills. It was chaotic, like it always was during this part of practice, and your ponytail whipped around as you dropped into a set. There was a brief moment of clumsiness you tripped over someone’s foot and went tumbling backwards into the grass with a shout.
Sal instinctively took a step forward. From across the field, he watched you burst into laughter. The kind that made your shoulders shake. Your teammates were cracking up, helping you up, brushing you off. You weren’t embarrassed just glowing. Hair a mess, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling.
Sal stopped walking completely. That’s when Larry noticed.
“Anyway, I told him if he ever tried to talk over me again, I’d shove ” Ash was cut off when suddenly, Larry slapped a hand over her mouth.
“MMPH ?!”
He didn’t say a word just wrapped an arm around her shoulders and slowly turned her head in the direction of Sal.
“Look,” Larry whispered dramatically, the grin already forming at the corners of his mouth. “Look.”
Ash squinted. “What am I oh my god.”
Todd caught on and paused beside them.
From where they were standing, Sal was still. Not a single movement. His body was slack, hands relaxed in his pockets, head slightly tilted in your direction. The blue of his eyes was sharper, softer somehow behind the holes in his mask. Even if his expression was hidden behind the black and white plate… something in his posture said everything.
Larry leaned down, whispering like he’d just discovered a hidden species in the wild.
“Dude,” Larry said, grinning ear to ear. “He is so grown up and in love.”
“I didn’t know you could radiate heart eyes,” Ash whispered. “But he’s doing it.”
Todd, adjusting his glasses, studied Sal like he was reading a silent language. “yearning has become a person guys.”
“Yeah, he looks like a guy who just found religion,” Larry muttered.
Sal hadn’t moved. He didn’t even realize his friends had stopped. His gaze was fixed watching you wipe grass from your cheer skirt while laughing breathlessly with your teammates. Even behind the mask, they could tell his whole body was tuned in to you.
Larry smirked and elbowed Ash. “Ten bucks says he doesn’t even know he stopped walking.”
Ash grinned. “Twenty says he doesn’t even remember we’re here.”
Then, just as you glanced in his direction, Sal jolted slightly snapped out of it. You met eyes from across the field. You grinned and gave a short wave. Sal blinked… then raised a hand and gave the tiniest wave back before quickly shoving both hands into his hoodie pocket again.
His friends didn’t miss that either.
Ash snorted. “Yep. Fully gone. He’s toast.”
Larry grinned wickedly. “Imagine being so whipped your body just turns into a statue”
Sal turned toward them, eyes narrowing behind the mask. “…What?”
“Nothing,” Larry said, throwing an arm over Sal’s shoulders as they started walking again. “Just admiring the view. Cheerleading’s real educational this time of year.”
Ash winked. “Super enlightening.”
Todd patted Sal’s back. “Don’t worry. We’ll all act surprised when you confess.”
Sal grumbled under his breath, hoodie pulled tighter over his head. “You guys suck massive balls” But even as they walked away, his head turned one last time. As the group was finally peeling away from the edge of the field, Larry tossing a stick up and catching it while Ash continued her rant, they were just about to pass behind the school building when
“Hey! Todd!”
Your voice rang out over the grass, bright and cheerful, cutting through the late afternoon buzz. They all turned. You jogged over, ponytail bouncing, the edge of your cheer skirt still speckled with grass stains from your earlier fall. Your cheeks were a little flushed from the drills, but you hardly looked winded.
Todd perked up immediately. “Oh hey! What’s up?”
You stopped in front of him, a little breathless but grinning. “I started the physics homework, and I’m already in over my head. Can I go over it with you sometime this week? I promise I’ll bring snacks as a bribe.”
Todd chuckled, already reaching into his backpack. “You don’t even have to bribe me. I’ll text you the notes later and we can meet later, if you want?”
“That would be perfect,” you beamed. “You’re the best, Todd.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” he teased with a little smile.
From behind him, Larry whispered theatrically, “Todd’s getting all the love today.”
Ash folded her arms. “As he should. He’s the only one who’s still passing any science class.”
But before you could respond, a sharp whistle blew from the field. Your coach was standing there, arms crossed, clearly waiting. You cringed slightly. “Whoops. Duty calls.”
You started jogging backward toward the field but called over your shoulder with a laugh, “I’ll see you dorks later!”
Larry clutched his chest dramatically. “She says with affection.”
Ash gave a salute. “Go, queen.”
Then you turned slightly, catching Sal’s eyes as you took a few more steps away. He hadn’t said anything hadn’t moved. He was just watching again, quietly, that unreadable expression hidden behind his mask. But his eyes… You smiled at him gently, a little softer than before. “Sal,” you said, “come over tonight, okay?”
He blinked once. “…Okay.”
Your grin widened just a little. And with that, you spun back around and jogged to join your teammates on the field, already calling an apology to your coach as you ran. The group watched in silence for a beat. As you disappeared back onto the field, Sal remained rooted in place like he’d just taken a mild electric shock completely still, hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly tense, though his expression was unreadable beneath the mask.
Larry, however, was already side eyeing him He stepped closer, squinting at Sal like he was trying to solve a puzzle he already knew the answer to. “So… you gonna tell me what that was, or should I just assume she invited you over to ‘study’?”
Sal blinked, slow and cautious. “She just said to come over later.”
Larry let out a low whistle and raised his brows. “Mmmhm. That’s how it starts, man. First it’s ‘come over,’ then it’s ‘sit on my bed,’ then suddenly both of you are pregannt”
Sal sighed. “It’s not like that.”
Larry gave him a lazy grin and elbowed him lightly. “Dude. Come on. You got the invite. That’s grounds FOR WHATEVER. You know how many dudes would sell their souls for a girl to say that to them with even half that softness?”
Todd wandered over, arms crossed and smirking. “It was suspiciously tender.”
Larry gave a mock thoughtful hum. “I’ll bring a flask. And condoms. Not for him. Just in case she realizes what a repressed weirdo he is and I gotta pick up the slack.”
Sal turned his head, deadpan. “You’re disgusting.”
Larry grinned, absolutely unbothered. “And yet, somehow still your best friend. Funny how that works.”
He leaned in a bit, dropping his voice into a mock serious tone. “Okay but real talk her place, alone, after school? foreplay waiting to happen. You sure you’re ready for that? What are you gonna do when she sits too close and your brain short circuits?”
Sal rubbed the back of his neck. “I dunno. Talk?”
Larry snorted. “Pfft. Classic. You better hope you don’t sit on the bed first or she’s gonna think you’ve got moves.”
Todd adjusted his glasses. “let the man breathe, I think that's enough teasing for right now”
Ash smiled. “Yeah! itll be all good, youre always at her place anyways, I dont see why this is anything new.”
Larry nodded sagely. “Look, man, I want you to scream into your phone the minute after you leave’”
Sal groaned, clearly regretting not disappearing with you when he had the chance. “Why do I even talk to you.”
Larry slung an arm over his shoulder. “Because I’m the only one giving you the talk no one else will. You’re entering sacred territory, my guy. The Bedroom Zone. That’s where the hot girls live.”
Sal dragged a hand down his face. “It’s just a casual hangout.”
Larry raised a brow. “Sure. Just like how ‘Netflix and chill’ is about movie appreciation.”
Ash cracked up, Todd chuckled, and Larry gave Sal one last smirk. “Look, if she offers you snacks and puts on a movie? Congrats. You’re halfway to a relationship you won’t admit you’re in for nine months.”
with that, he started walking ahead, hands in his pockets, calling back over his shoulder, “Don’t forget deodorant! And maybe brush your hair this time!” Sal stood there for a beat longer, ears pink, before quietly following, a small, reluctant smile twitching beneath the edge of his mask.
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚Your apartment door clicked shut behind you as you kicked your shoes off with a groan that could’ve belonged to someone three decades older.
“Finally,” you muttered, dragging yourself toward the couch like it owed you money. “If I had to chant Hot to go one more time, I was going to throw myself into traffic.”
Sal stepped inside a few seconds later, quiet as usual, closing the door gently behind him. His shoes made a soft thump as he set them by the mat, and he trailed behind you like a shadow familiar, unobtrusive, calm. He always did tend to come over after practice when he could. It wasn’t a thing you had ever needed to explain. He just showed up, like gravity, and you always opened the door like you were expecting him. Because you were.
You dropped onto the couch with a flop, hair sticking to the back of your neck from all the sweat and yelling. “My legs are spaghetti. My soul has left my body. ”
Sal chuckled under his breath, then wandered further in, eyes scanning the room like he always did even though nothing ever changed. It was part habit, part quiet comfort. Your apartment was small, warm, dimly lit. Blankets were folded on the armrest. Your stupid lava lamp was bubbling peacefully on the shelf. The place smelled faintly of vanilla and shampoo and you. Which wouldn’t normally bother him. Except now Larry’s stupid voice was in his head like a mosquito trapped in a tin can. Sal blinked.
Right. Couch. You were on the couch. Not the bed. Totally normal. Sal watched you from the doorway for a moment, something amused in the angle of his head, He shifted a little awkwardly, standing there for a second too long before walking over and settling into the other end of the couch. He usually did that, too always a respectful amount of space, always calm and quiet. But tonight his back was a little straighter. His shoulders a little stiffer. His brain a little louder.
then quietly walked over and lowered himself onto the couch beside you. He sat stiff at first, unsure of how close to get, but your hand reached out to lightly tug on the hem of his sleeve.
“You can sit normal, Sal. I don’t bite,” you mumbled into a throw pillow.
Sal blinked. “…Right.”
So he settled in, closer now. Shoulders relaxed, hands resting in his lap.
You didn’t seem to notice. You sighed and reached for the throw blanket, dragging it over your lap. “I swear, our captain’s trying to kill us before regionals. That girl has no chill at all.”
Sal nodded, fiddling with the frayed end of his sleeve. “You looked good out there. In practice, I mean. You’re, um… really good.”
You cracked a tired smile. “Wow. A whole compliment? Who are you and what have you done with the real Sal?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean it.”
You leaned back, eyes drifting closed for a moment. “Thanks. That’s sweet.”
Sal stared at the ceiling. God. Larry was so annoying. worse he might have been a little right. Sal snuck a glance at you. You were curled up under your blanket, makeup smudged, hair messy, hoodie riding up slightly as you hugged a pillow to your chest. Relaxed. Comfortable. Like this was normal. It was normal. But now his heart was doing this thing in his chest, like it couldn’t decide if it was nervous or just stupid. He’d been in this apartment a hundred times. But now he was acutely aware of every inch of the couch between you. Every sound. Every breath.
“Hey,” you said suddenly, eyes fluttering open. “You okay? You’re quiet.”
Sal blinked. “I’m always quiet.”
You tilted your head, watching him for a second. “Yeah, but this is like… extra quiet. Like ‘do I need to get you tea or something?”
Sal flushed under the mask. “I’m just tired. Long day.”
You nodded like that made perfect sense and scooted over slightly just an inch or two. Just enough to close the space between you a little. “Same. You can lean back, y’know. You look like you’re in timeout.”
You shifted again, grumbling about how sore your thighs were from endless jumping and kicks, and without much thought, you swung your legs up and over Sal’s lap.Sal froze just a bit at the sudden contact like someone had startled a cat but when you didn’t move again, he relaxed slowly. He looked down at your legs draped across him, then up at your face. You weren’t even paying attention, completely at peace.
“So,” you started casually, “there’s this show in the city next month like a mini festival kind of deal? Bunch of local punk and alt bands. Larry and Ash wanna go, and I’m so tempted.”
Sal blinked, his hands awkwardly hovering near your shins. “You gonna go?”
You shrugged. “Maybe. Depends on money, and if we survive regionals without blowing our knees out. But also… I don’t have anything to wear. I can’t show up in pastel to a punk show.”
He gave a small huff of amusement, fingers finally settling on your legs just resting there at first, the lightest contact. “Bet you could make anything work,” he murmured.
You smirked at that, cracking one eye open to look at him. “You flirting with me, Fisher?”
“Barely,” he said, voice teasing but warm.
You grinned and nudged his arm with your foot. You rambled on about some of the bands on the lineup, flipping through your phone with one hand while the other idly tugged at the blanket. Sal nodded, adjusting slightly under your legs. “Yeah. Larry won’t shut up about it. He wants to mosh until he dislocates a shoulder.”
“That’s such a Larry thing. I was thinking about going. It’s not really my usual scene, but I don’t know… it’d be fun.”
Sal tilted his head toward you, curiosity sparking. “You can always see, you did say you liked my music before and its not too far off”
You started rambling, voice soft but animated mentioning outfits with fishnets, oversized band tees, maybe one with a leather jacket if the night was cold. A crop top you hadn’t had a chance to wear yet. And somewhere along the way soft and slow Sal’s fingers began to move.
He hadn’t meant to, not consciously. But as you spoke, he found himself gently running his fingertips along your shin, then your calf, trailing little absentminded patterns with the pads of his fingers. He moved like he was afraid to startle you, every brush of his hand tender and hesitant. You didn’t react at first. Perhaps you didn’t even notice. But your voice dipped a little, more relaxed, like the comfort of it had settled into your bones. Your leg twitched slightly in contentment, and Sal’s hand paused Then continued, slower this time.“That purple top you wore at the bonfire,” he said suddenly, voice quiet, almost like it snuck out of him, “you looked… really nice in it.”
You turned your head toward him, eyes blinking open with a sleepy little smile. “Yeah?”
He nodded, eyes flicking away. His hand stilled again, resting warm and steady on your leg. “Yeah.” Sal blinked, clearly only just now realizing he was still touching you. He froze for a second again, his fingers hovering in place like they’d been caught doing something illegal.
You raised a brow. “What, you gonna stop now?”
He hesitated then quietly resumed, a small smile hidden beneath his mask. “No,” he said softly. “I’ll keep going.”
You smiled to yourself and let your eyes close. despite the thoughts running miles a minute in his head, despite the ghost of Larry’s voice still rattling around somewhere in the background saying, “You’re in too deep, lover boy,” Sal didn’t stop. He just sat there, calm and quiet as ever, slowly tracing lazy circles against your skin.
You yawned, stretching your arms again until your fingertips grazed the top of the couch. “You should just stay the night again,” you said, voice casual, like it wasn’t making Sal’s heart immediately stutter in his chest. “You’ve still got clothes here from the last time. Plus, I don’t feel like saying bye.”
Sal blinked at you, unsure if you were teasing or not. He nodded slowly. “…Yeah. Okay. If you’re cool with it.”
You gave a little grin. “I wouldn’t’ve asked if I wasn’t.”
You sat up slightly, arms propped behind you. “Also, I’ve been craving something sweet all day. Wanna bake something? Cookies? Muffins? Brownies? We’ve got options, Sal.”
He opened his mouth to say something sarcastic but instead, what came out, soft and automatic, was:
“Yeah. Sure. Anything with you.” There was a brief pause. You blinked at him. He blinked at himself. Then his shoulders hunched a little as he realized what he’d just said. “I mean not anything anything. I just meant like I’m down for whatever you wanna bake. Or whatever.” His voice went lower and quicker with each word, panic mode lightly engaged.
You, meanwhile, were trying not to grin like a fool. “Anything with me?” you teased, poking his side.
Sal groaned and covered his face with his hand. “Please forget I said that.”
You smirked. “Relax. I got the message.”
You walked into the kitchen, still grinning as you rummaged through cabinets. “We’re doing cookies. I’ve got chocolate chips, let’s go.”
Sal followed after you, his hands shoved in his pockets now, even if you also unknowingly made his heart trip over itself every ten seconds.
You were already digging through the baking shelf when Sal joined you in the kitchen, He looked more at home than anyone had the right to in someone else’s apartment. And maybe that’s because this wasn’t “someone else’s” anymore not to him. You held up a bag of chocolate chips like it was sacred treasure. “Behold. The only reason this dough will be tolerable.”
Sal smirked faintly, leaning a hip against the counter. “Wow. No faith in your own baking skills?”
You scoffed, tossing the bag on the counter. “I’m realistic. My baking is edible. Not gourmet.”
“I’ve eaten weirder things,” he said, deadpan, reaching for the mixing bowl.
Your eyebrow arched. “That’s not comforting.”
“I mean, you’re letting me help, so who’s really at fault here?”
You made a dramatic show of dumping flour into the bowl. “You've got all my trust, blue boy.”
He nodded solemnly. You passed him the whisk while cracking eggs into a small bowl. Sal took the whisk with a little more flair than necessary. “How do I stir this? is there a certain way or?”
You paused, watching him with amusement. “I dunno, maybe talk dirty to it. ‘Cause these cookies are about to be sinful.”
Without missing a beat, Sal leaned down a little and murmured to the bowl in his calmest voice, “Hey, sugar. You like it rough, or should I ease the chocolate chips in slowly?”
You choked on your laugh so hard you had to grab the counter for support. “SAL. What the hell ?!”
He grinned as he started mixing, shoulder bouncing slightly from his own laughter. “You started it.”
“You said it too well, that’s the problem,” you said, smacking his arm with a dish towel. “Didnt know i was hanging out with a FREAK”
“I try my best” he said, licking a bit of dough off his finger after moving his mask to the side ever so slightly.
You paused. “Did you just raw dog cookie dough? theres eggs in that” He looked at you, expression unreadable under his mask, “…I walked into that one, didn’t I?” you mumbled.
“Hard,” he replied simply.
You groaned, hiding your face behind your hands. “I liked it better when you were flustered and awkward.”
“Too late,” Sal said, dumping the chocolate chips in with an almost smug level of confidence. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling as you reached over to flick flour at him. He ducked with surprising grace, the grin behind the mask audible in his voice. “Try me again and you’re getting dough on your face.”
“Oh no,” you gasped “What ever shall I doooooo” He dipped two fingers in the bowl. “Don’t you dare.” He looked at you. stared deep into your eyes. then slowly took a taste instead. You stared at him, jaw dropped. “Thought you were gonna smear it on me,” you muttered.
“Tempting,” he said casually, licking the last bit of dough off his thumb, “but I’m not wasting chocolate on your forehead.”
“Oh, so we’re economical and sassy tonight are we?”
He shrugged. “Multitasking.”
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ The oven beeped to life, the tray of cookies safely tucked inside. You set the timer with a satisfied little hum, turning on your heel just as Sal moved to put the mixing bowl in the sink. You didn’t mean to step into him, but the narrow kitchen and your complete lack of awareness sent you directly into his chest.
You both froze.
Your hands braced instinctively against his chest, his hands caught at your shoulders in an effort to steady you. It wasn’t a rough impact. The air shifted instantly. You looked up at him, suddenly hyper aware of how close you were. The only thing keeping your faces apart… was the smooth surface of his mask.
Neither of you moved. You looked up, startled at first, but then your gaze softened. The glow of the kitchen light cast gold shadows across the room, and you swore you could see a flush creeping beneath the edge of his hairline.
His hands didn’t drop right away. Neither did yours. barely above a whisper, Sal said, “It’s not fair… how easy it is to want this with you.”
The words fell out of him like they’d been waiting to be said for weeks. stripped of any of the usual carefulness he kept wrapped around himself. Your breath caught, eyes searching his through the hair that had fallen across his face. Your voice was barely above a whisper when you spoke.
“Can I… take it off?”
His breath hitched. He blinked. “Wh– wow, okay. Um. Your phrasing is kinda uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight. “You make it sound like we’re about to hook up on the counter.”
You blinked then burst out laughing. “Oh my god, Sal.” You smacked his chest lightly. “That wasn’t even what I meant, but now I can’t un hear it.”
He gave a helpless, sheepish shrug, eyes crinkling just a little. “You said it, not me.”
You tilted your head, grinning up at him. “We can save that for another time, then.”
That shut him up. You watched as his brain visibly short circuited, eyes going wide before darting off to the side in panic. His ears turned bright pink beneath his hair.
“Joking,” you whispered, though the glint in your eye said you weren’t completely kidding. “Mostly.”
He let out a soft huff as he let his hands drop from your waist, stepping back just slightly but not enough to break the warmth still hanging between you. You tilted your head. “I’m serious, though. I won’t push. But if you ever feel ready… I’d like to see the whole you again.”
Sal nodded slowly, eyes dropping to the floor for a beat before flicking back up. “I know.”
The beep sliced through the silence like a mischievous little gremlin, reminding you that time and cookies waited for no emotionally charged stare downs. You blinked, the moment still humming in your chest, then snorted softly. “Relax. It’s just the halfway point.”
Sal rolled his eyes, stepping back just a bit more but not enough to be out of reach. “You act like I was the one making it weird.”
You lifted a brow. “Oh, really? ‘It’s not fair how easy it is to want this with you’ that wasn’t a little weird?”
He groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. “You were this close to getting a sweet moment, and you blew it.”
“I didn’t blow anything,” you shot back with a smirk, walking over to check the oven through the glass. “but given the chance .”
“Y/n, don't even start you perv” Sal let out a surprised little laugh behind his mask, looking at you like you were the most ridiculous thing he’d ever seen.
“I cant help it when I’ve got a hot guy in my kitchen,” you said, glancing at him.
He tilted his head, eyes glinting. “Hot guy?”
“Oh, please. Don’t act surprised. You know exactly what you’re doing in those damn sweatpants.”
Another beep interrupted you, louder this time. You spun to open the oven and muttered, “Cookie time,.” Sal chuckled, walking over behind you and peeking over your shoulder as you reached in with the mitts. “Don’t crowd me,” you teased.
“Just trying to make sure you don’t burn your hands.”
“You burn your mouth on these and I’m not driving you to the ER.”
“Oh, I won’t. I’m excellent with handling hot things.”
Your head turned slowly. “You did not just say that.”
He grinned like the smug bastard he secretly was and plucked a chip off the edge of one cookie. “Too late.”
You watched as Sal carefully moved the cookies to a plate. “Okay,” you said between chews, “we’ve officially earned the right to crash. I say we head to my room movie, cookies, blankets, the whole comfy package.”
Sal paused as he was reaching for another cookie, fingers hovering. “Your… room?”
You turned to him, one brow raised. “Yeah. My bed has like… six pillows. And heated blankets. Plus the TV’s bigger.”
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚The movie was already twenty minutes in by the time the two of you had finally settled on your bedYou were leaned against Sal’s shoulder, one of your legs curled beneath you, and his body was warm where it pressed gently into yours. Neither of you said much at first, letting the ambient noise of the film fill the space. It was peaceful. Familiar. But for Sal, something about the moment tugged at his thoughts.
He swallowed thickly, barely noticing the way your head had drifted to rest just a little more against him. He was remembering. Your laughter in his room just a few days ago. The way you’d leaned into him so naturally. your body curled into his side played on repeat in his mind more than the movie ever could. He’d said nothing then, hadn’t even dared breathe too loudly, afraid it would pop the fragile bubble of comfort he’d never known he needed.
But now… it was happening again. Here. In your space. Now, lying beside you again, your hair brushing his jawline every now and then when you shifted slightly, he could feel that same quiet gravity pulling at him.
Sal glanced down at you. You were focused on the screen, but he caught the tiny smile at the corner of your mouth perhaps at the film, or at the warmth of the room, or, maybe because of him. He liked to think it was that last one.
You suddenly shifted, laying more fully against his chest and letting your arm rest lightly across his stomach. “Too many cookies,” you mumbled.
He huffed a laugh, his hand instinctively coming up to rest against your back. “That’s on you. I told you to pace yourself.”
“You say that every time, and yet here we are,” you muttered into his shirt. “Besides, they were good and not as bad as i anticipated. Admit it.”
“They were good,” he said quietly. “You always make them good.” Sal chuckled softly under his breath, a hand resting near your waist under the blanket. He could feel the way you molded against him, so naturally. So easily.
The mask felt heavier than usual. He blinked slowly, something shifting inside him. A decision. It wasn’t sudden. It had been building for a while through the shared jokes, the lingering glances, the safety of your presence. now, here, in the soft glow of your bedroom, with your warmth against his side and your breathing matching his, it didn’t feel terrifying.
Sal reached up and slipped the mask from his face. The air hit his skin differently without it. Vulnerability being oh so strong now. But not in a bad way. Not here.
He held the mask in his lap, his hands fidgeting with the straps while his eyes flicked toward you. His lips parted like he might say something, but the words stuck
It was subtle at first just the faintest change in the way his breathing slowed, like he was bracing himself. Your eyes fluttered up and adjusted to the dim room, and when you tilted your head slightly to look at him…
For a second, you just blinked Sal noticed your gaze immediately and stiffened. “Don’t look too hard,” he said quickly, voice low and tense.
You turned fully toward him, shifting just enough to sit up slightly on your elbow. “Sal,” you murmured, your voice laced with surprise but not a hint of pity.
Then, slowly, your hand lifted toward his face. His eyes flicked to your fingers as they hovered near his cheek, and he flinched just slightly but enough for you to pause. He wasn’t used to being seen like this. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, barely above a whisper. “I just I know it’s not…”
Your hand gently made contact with his cheek, and he stopped talking. You were warm. Steady. You didn’t pull back. Your thumb brushed lightly across his skin, tracing the edge of one of his scars without hesitation.
“It’s not what?” you asked quietly. “Not what you think I want to see? Sal, I’ve wanted to do this for months.”
before he could say anything, you leaned in and pressed your lips softly gently against his. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was patient. the world could finally stop spinning just long enough for him to realize: he was wanted. Just like this.
Sal’s eyes widened, the warmth of your lips still lingering as you pulled back, close enough that your breath still ghosted across his skin. His ears were red. His cheeks too. He blinked once, then twice. “You… wanted to?” he asked, barely able to meet your eyes.
You smiled, so close he could feel it. “Of course I did.”
He didn’t respond right away. Just looked at you, like he was still waiting to wake up from something too good to be real. Then, hesitantly like testing the weight of the moment Sal leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in return. This kiss was shy, soft, but undeniably him nervous, sweet, and full of something he didn’t quite know how to say yet.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead gently against yours. He was blushing furiously, but he didn’t hide this time.
Hey guys! Got a few more headcannons here. Hope you enjoy them! (Did not proof read)
Warnings: Drool I guess…and making out it’s only one headcannons though
—————————————————————————
If you like different music than he does. He’ll give it a try and listen to it. Even if he doesn’t enjoy it too much he’ll let you play it in the car. He will also go to any concerts you invite him to just to see how happy you are singing along to the songs.
Sal isn’t protective because he trusts you but if someone’s harassing you he will always step in and tell them to leave you alone. He won’t get violent with them since he isn’t a very violent person in general. He will only get upset at someone if they mess with you or any of his friends since he doesn’t care about what they say about him.
You guys don’t make out often since he gets a bit self conscious about his face when it’s exposed for long periods of time. Especially since one side of his mouth is exposed. But when you guys do make out it will be very loving instead of sexual. It will start off very soft and slow then it’ll build up to be more intimate. He will always keep tissues nearby in case the exposed side of his mouth has saliva coming out the side. Sal gets embarrassed when his drool comes out but you always tell him it’s fine. It isn’t something he can control.
“Sorry- I didn’t mean to drool on you a bit…”
Sal said feeling embarrassed about it. He couldn’t even look at you a bit scared on how you’d react even though he knew you would never find him disgusting.
“It’s fine, Sally…”
You said back to him picking up a tissue to wipe the spit off your cheek and then clean him up as well.
“Thank you, really.”
He spoke softly planting a kiss to your forehead when you finish wiping him up.
“You don’t need to thank me for that. It’s not something you can control. We all have spit.”
You cup his face as you told him that. He leaned into your touch, feeling comforted and safe in your grasp.
“Still I appreciate it a lot. I’m getting used to how understanding you are.”
Sal said a small smile appearing on his face as his hands run up your forearm to your hands.
“You can just make it up to me with more kisses. If you want to, of course.”
Sal chuckled at your comment before leaning his face closer.
“If that’s the only way to make up for it…”
He said giving you a peck on the lips. You start smiling back at him before moving your hands behind his neck and pull him back into a long kiss, leading back to continuing your makeout session.
If you have any piercing he will find them so cool! And that might lead him to get his first cartilage ear piercing. He wouldn’t get any on his face since he wears the prosthetic but if he’d get any on his face it might be a tongue piercing or en eyebrow one. He might get a body piercing but he’d really think about it before he makes that decision.
Now if you guys have been dating for a long time or maybe you guys are married, after you’ve talked about it a lot you might get matching tattoos! I think he’d already have some tattoos when he is older not very big ones but he’d probably have a few smaller ones with maybe a bigger piece on his back or his arm. Back to the matching tattoos, it would probably be a small tattoo. Maybe a small ghost or a cat or a specific flower you both like.
I do think at some point you guys would get married when you two feel ready for it. You would’ve already been living together at that point and he doesn’t want to risk loosing you since he loves you so much so he would plan to propose. I feel like he’d do it with a song at the lake. He would write you a love song and sing it for you before getting to his speech about how much he loves you and how you make him feel so loved and cared for even with his issues. When he finally gets over his nervousness he asks you to marry him and you obviously say yes! That makes him feel like the luckiest guy in the world to get to be with someone as amazing as you.
Heeeeey :D I saw that you had a Sally Face post and FREAKED OUT I really dont see a lot of people who are in the fandom anyways. Could you please do one of the reader and sal on a ghost hunting date (; thank you and i hope you have a lovely day \(^w^)
ᓚᘏᗢ 𓈒∘ ꒰I HARDCORE miss Sally Face AND I hope you have a lovely day as well!!꒱
Twilight Zone
☆ Pairing: Sal Fisher x Reader
☆ Summary: You’re ghost hunting date didn’t go exactly as planned…
☆ TW: Spicy but nothing happens.
Is this how you wanted to spend your night? GOD NO! You were currently treading through a dark, abandoned cemetery with overgrown roots and weeds that constantly snagged at your ankles. Your boyfriend Sal dragged you here as a ‘date’. Though this wasn’t what you’d consider a date. It was cold, creepy, and completely INSANE! You were trespassing! His excuse was: “No one’s been here in years. It’s totally fine!” That’s how every horror movie goes. He should know that! But because you love him oh so dearly you kept your mouth shut and followed him around.
Sal used his gearboy to interact with any spirits that may be lurking but nothing has came up. You’ve been running around in the dark for two hours and got nothing. You were leaned up against an old headstone covered in vines while he stood around messy with the buttons on his controller. “Sal, aren’t you cold?” He turned to you, seeing how you had your arms wrapped around yourself. He kneeled to your side and gave you his jacket. “You’re not having fun are you?” “It’s not that.” You sighed. “It’s just…I’d much rather be doing…date things.” Your hand went to his chest and pulled him in ever so slightly, watching as the cogs turned in his mind. “Oh.” He chuckled with slight nervousness in his voice. “Could’ve just said that.” He purred while leaning in.
The mask had been tossed to the side along with the gearboy. You laid in the overgrown grass with Sal on top of you, sloppily making out. The scars across his face made it a little difficult, due to the disfigurement but you didn’t mind. Sal was beautiful in your eyes. You always made sure to remind him.
The blue haired boy let his hands roam across you in a not so appropriate ways that he knew made you crazy. He let his hands trail up your shirt to touch the warmth of your stomach. God he loved how warm you were since he always ran cold. His hands made you shiver and arch up into him. They slowly snaked down your his to grab your rear, making you moan. He broke the kiss then buried his face in your neck. “Have I ever told you how prepossessing you look?” You couldn’t help but laugh. “Big words for a little guy.” “I’m far from little, baby.~” He cooed before biting down on your neck making you yelp. He continued to compliment you between kisses.
kiss “Astonishing”
kiss “Luxurious”
kiss “Breathtaking”
kiss “Pulchritudinous”
kiss “Beddable~”
kiss “uh…hot?” Your giggles and heavy breathing filled the silence of the empty cemetery. It felt like you two were the only people in the world as he sucked hickies on your neck and groped your ass. Your hands massaged his scalp and yanked on his hair. Every time you did he bit your neck harder. The feeling of arousal bubbled in your lower stomach and you could feel his bulge pressed against your thigh. “Christ…you always get me hot and bothered.” He panted. “I haven’t done anything.” You chuckle. “Fuck I know but I love you.” Sal went back to kissing your neck and ravaging you. Oh you were in heaven.
Moments pass as you two bump and grind against each other, things were getting heated. There was a crunching of twigs in the distance that startled you. You raised your head to look around but Sal was still trying to devour you. “Sal, I heard something.” You tried yanking him off your neck but he instead just moaned and pulled you closer. “It’s nothing, baby.” But the crunching got louder and closer till there was a flashlight shone in your eyes. “What’re you kids doing out here?” Shit it’s the cops. You froze out of fear but luckily Sal was quick to grabs his mask, gearboy, and of course you then ran. You’ve heard of Larry and him getting caught trespassing many times before. This wasn’t anything new for him.
When you got to the fence he helped lift you over then rather not so gracefully jumped over as well. You were both out of breath but safe for now. Sal couldn’t help but laugh. “Fuck…that’s was…intense and kinda hot.” You give him a slight punch to the shoulder. “We’re not doing this again.” “Ok! Ok!” He rubbed his shoulder then wrapped his arm around your waist. “Wanna finish this back at my place?~”
Sighhh I’m grateful for this snow coming in. Hopefully I can get my draft/requests done!
WARNINGS: aged up characters (early college years), mentions of sexual acts going on but no smut so read at your own risk!
a/n: happy third fic for my merry ficmas event!
It was quiet in the house when Todd got home. He knew Neil was out, but he swore Sal would be in. Usually that meant you were over as well, and yet the silence was deafening.
He found out why as soon as he passed through the living room. The two of you had fallen asleep and from what Todd gathered, you seemed to have been reading with your legs propped over Sal’s lap. Your feet were adorned in fuzzy, holiday socks. Your glasses lay behind you on the side table, but with the indents on your nose and your book face down on the ground, he was sure you'd fallen asleep with them on.
On the other side of this scene was Sal with headphones around his neck, music barely trickling through. Because the volume was down or because the entirety of his face was shoved into the crook of your neck was anyone’s guess.
Todd sighed, biting back an annoyed smile at the fact Sal had taken his mask off. That also meant he would be in a highly vulnerable state if he woke them up now.
And he had to wake them up, not only for the news but because he felt a lecture coming on that way was highly overdue.
Retracing his steps, he grabbed his keys off the table, tossed his coat over his arm and made a show of unlocking and then promptly slamming the door a bit too roughly to ensure sound traveled into the living room. With the muffled curse and a drawn out yawn in response, Todd hummed in triumph before steadily making his way back to the living room.
“I'm home.”
“Hey, Todd,” you called, not even bothering to change your position on the couch. You seemed to be in search of the page you'd left off on, glasses back on your face. Sally had his mask on once more, headphones and CD player balanced along the back of the couch as he stretched his arm out.
Todd slowly lowered himself onto the chair nearby, fingers splayed and against one another as he leveled both of you with his best, serious stare.
“Two things,” he began, watching as the two grew tense. “Firstly, I have news that I think the two of you would like to hear. Secondly, I don't see why, after two months of this ‘fake dating’ scheme, you must continue it behind closed doors.”
“What do you mean?” Sal muttered, voice rough from sleep.
Todd motioned to your legs in his lap. You pursed your lips and slowly began to ease them out of it before Sal’s chipped, black nails smoothed over your ankle and brought them back over.
“We've always been like this. Larry practically sits on her lap every time he's over.”
“That's a running joke,” Todd pointed out, “this isn't.”
“What's wrong with being cuddly?” you grumbled, ducking lower behind your book. It was a terrible hiding place.
“Nothing. I just ask that maybe you two reexamine some things.”
“If you had crazy parents who asked you every single time if you were dating or seeing someone before you even got a greeting out of them, you'd fit right in my shoes, Morrison,” you argued. “Now what's the news so I can go back to reading in peace?”
Todd sighed, noting Sal’s unconscious maneuver of rubbing your calf. The line between your eyebrows seemed to fade with each pass of Sal’s hand and Todd felt like throwing something which was strange because he was not a violent person.
“The news,” he began, peachy, “is that Ashley will be back in town tomorrow and I'm in charge of rounding up all of us for a holiday dinner. Do with that information what you will.”
With that, he left you two to your mess.
Sal had stopped rubbing your leg. It was his turn to sink lower into the couch. You were hiding behind your book twice as much now.
“Fuck,” you muttered. “I forgot to tell her.”
“We forgot to tell her,” Sal corrected.
“We can just stop,” you shrugged, your voice doing that pitchy little thing when you were trying to hide how upset you actually were, “it's not that big of a deal.”
“That dinner with your parents is in a couple of days. I don't want you to have go through that alone.”
“Been doing it since high school. I'm used to it.” The sigh you let out damn near broke Sal's heart. “I'm not about to jeopardize your time with Ashley while she's back.”
“She didn't even text me she was coming.”
“Maybe she wanted to surprise you.”
“I think if something would've happened between us, it would've happened before she left for college,” he murmured, leaning closer on the couch.
Your fingers tightened on the edges of your book.
“Yeah, but you still like her.”
It was quiet before Gizmo’s chirp echoed through the room. He jumped up behind you on the couch arm, purring as he got between you and your book and flopped down.
You and Sal snorted, some tension breaking.
“I'm sorry,” you said, syllables soft. Sal’s prosthetic shifted from how high his eyebrows shot up behind it. “I should've brought this up back when I asked you to pretend to be my boyfriend. I was just…desperate. And you're my best friend and, like, you get it. But I shouldn't have messed it up like this.”
“You didn't mess up anything.” He let out a gasp as your eyes went shiny. You sniffed, burying your face into Gizmo. “Why are you crying? Babe, it's okay.”
“I'm fine! It's fine!” You pulled your legs off him and sat up, quickly passing Gizmo over. Sal didn't have a chance to do anything before you were grabbing your jacket from the floor and booking it towards the door. “I told my mom I’d help her with some cooking. I'll call you later.”
Sal yelled your name but the door shut on it. He stared after you before Todd leaned out from the kitchen, eyes expectant.
“Shut up,” Sal sighed, patting Gizmo and putting him to the side.
“This would've been solved ages ago if you two actually talked.”
“I know!” he groaned, checking besides the couch. He scowled as he came up empty.
Todd cleared his throat, holding up his jacket as Sal turned. “Use mine. Go fix this before I have to.”
Sal thanked him and moved quickly, shrugging it on and stuffing his feet into his sneakers by the door before noticing your shoes were still there. Laughing to himself, he grabbed them and stepped out into the winter evening.
You hadn't gotten far. You were at the end of the driveway, looking about ready to accept your fate and walk back to your house barefoot.
“Forget something?”
You wiped at your face before sticking your hand out to him blindly. “Don't say a word, Sal Fisher.”
“Damn, not the full government name.”
You snatched your shoes and shoved them on not bothering to tie the laces. He kneeled down to tie them for you, ignoring your grumbling. He paused on the last knot when a snowflake hit his hand followed by a few others. The both of you looked up as snow began to fall around the two of you in soft puffs. Winter had crossed into its last threshold in the town of Nockfell.
Getting to his full height, Sal glanced up at you, always the taller one just like Larry. You avoided his gaze but you weren't running away.
“Ash was my first real crush,” he admitted in the quiet. Your face shriveled, leaving his chest aching. “She means a lot to me, okay? But that's not the same thing as how I feel about you.”
“I know,” you sighed, crossing your arm and starting to pout but he didn't let you. He grabbed the crook of your elbow and pulled you back to face him.
“No, you don't. Remember when you asked me to pretend to be your boyfriend and I got super quiet and you thought I was weirded out?”
“Yeah.”
“It's because I was stoked and I felt like shit for feeling that way because it wasn't even gonna be real.”
You finally met his gaze, giving him just enough courage to continue.
“I had one of those, like, infatuated crushes on Ash, but I fell super hard for you back in senior year when you asked me to prom.”
“Sally!” you whispered-yelled. “This whole time?”
“Oh, thank fuck, you feel the same way?” He let go of your arm to grab at his chest. “I thought I was about to have a heart attack.”
“Yeah, you dork! I've liked you since junior year!”
“Isn't that when you moved here?”
You pursed your lips looking away. “No.”
He laughed at the horrendous lie as you groaned.
“Shut up! You were all starry-eyed for Ash, okay? I stomped those feelings as far down as they would go so I could be a good friend.”
“Well, it worked out in the end,” he mumbled, grabbing your hand and staring up at you with a gaze you never thought you'd get to experience. “Right?”
You took a deep breath and played with his sleeve, suddenly shy and so fucking cute Sal was ready to keel over right there.
“I really wanna kiss you,” you whispered. He fought not to choke on his spit. “Can I?”
“Out here in the snow?” he teased but his head was drowning in Please. Oh God, I want to kiss you. I've been wanting to kiss you. Please.
“Did you leave the basement door unlocked?” you mumbled, kicking at the light coat of snow surrounding the two of you.
Sal knew that you knew he damn well never locked that door. It didn't even have time to close all the way before you two were on each other, Sal unclipping his prosthetic as you pulled it off, giggling uncontrollably at how messy his hair was before his scarred lips landed on yours. Both of you were a bit cold from being outside, but between wet gasps and wandering hands Sal was losing Todd’s jacket and tugging yours off.
Upstairs, Todd quickly grabbed Gizmo and eased the door to Sal’s room closed as a high-pitched moan echoed. He was beginning to regret having that talk, the quiet now losing to muffled words and a creaking bed.
He supposed it wasn't all that big of a surprise you'd jump each other when everything came to light. It had been over two years of second glances and ‘friendly’ cuddling.
Todd turned the TV on before pornographic sounds flooded the rest of the house. Perfect timing for Neil to get home early, too. His eyebrows shot into his hairline as he heard you and Sal, albeit it muffled over the news and Todd washing the dishes.
“They know I'm home, too,” he muttered dryly.
Neil burst into hysterics and pulled his phone out. “Larry owes me ten bucks. I said before Christmas.”
“You're all awful,” he sighed, but he was smiling.
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This is from a rockband AU ive been daydreaming about 💕
That cologne was practically an aphrodisiac. Your eyes drank in every detail of him; the way he sprawled out languidly in his bean bag, the way he spread his legs comfortably with his guitar perched across his lap, how he rolled his head back and bobbed his head to the tune of his strings, placid and casual with eyes fluttered shut. A smile crept its way across his scarred lips when he felt your fingertips threading their way through his messy, cyan locks. You plant little kisses all over his bare face, making him giggle boyishly.
"I thought you wanted me to serenade you?" He mused, sitting his guitar aside to pull you into his lap instead. "Looks like my little canary would rather sing for me instead."
That mischievous glint in his eyes wasn't lost on you. You'd been away from each other for far too long, both busy with touring and fan meetups, leaving you basically with zero time to yourselves. But tonight, you two found yourselves all alone with no rehearsals to attend, no interviews, or photoshoots, what with the tour being over. What were a couple of lovebirds to do with all this downtime?
Your skin felt on fire wherever he touched you, your body instinctively giving into his wordless commands. His warm, calloused hands speak to your body, your spine caving in and arching when he strokes you there. He watches hungrily as you arch your back on top of him until finally, he can't take the sight of you anymore. He wraps his strong, toned arms around your waist and latches his teeth onto your throat, coaxing a breathy, gaspy moan from you. "Missed you so much, Sally Baby."
"I missed you too, baby. Missed you so fuckin' much."
The two of you waste no time undressing each other. The taste of your skin is all he can think about as drives his hips down into you. He has you pinned on your stomach, teeth deep in the nape of your neck as he growls and moans into your flesh. "F-Fuck me, Sally!" You cry out desperately as your pussy clenches around his thick dick, making him hook his elbow underneath your chin, effectively trapping you in a chokehold. "Take it for me, princess," he whispers into your ear before nipping at the shell of it, tugging and licking at the delicate flesh until you dig your nails into his arms. "That's it, baby, take it for me. You're a good girl, squeezing on my cock like that."
You whine and whimper into his bicep as you bite down on his muscles to silence yourself. "None of that. I said I wanted my little songbird to sing for me. Now sing." In an instant, he adjusts his hips to point the tip of his cock straight down into your sweet spot, making you squeal and squirm and writhe beneath him. "Harder, Sally! Ooooh, just like that! G-Gonna cum for you, gonna cum all over that dick, baby!"
Sal lets out a deep, guttural groan from deep in his chest when he feels your pussy squeezing down on his angry cock. He bullies his dick into your sweet spot, making your eyes roll back as you finally give into your orgasm. As you writhe beneath him, he holds you steady by your hips, marveling at the sight of your plump, bouncy cheeks and thighs rippling with each crash of his hips. "A-Ah, mmmh, look at me! L-Look at me, Sally, pleeeease," you whine as you peer back at him, eyes locking with his blue ones. The way your eyebrows are furrowed, pretty eyes half-lidded, lips parted, and tongue slightly poking out past those puffy, quivering lips has Sal in a trance. The sound of your wet pussy gushing all around him is just too much, and he finally snaps. He's so sexy like this; completely lost in his pleasure, eyes rolled back and tongue hanging out as he ruts into you like a wild animal, both your juices mixing and dripping all down your thighs. He's so fucking sexy, it makes you want him all over again.
He releases you from his chokehold and snakes his fingers underneath your chin, gently gripping at your plush cheeks to make you pout before kissing you tenderly. You moan into his kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips, the taste of your pussy on his tongue, the warmth of his breath. He's intoxicating.
When he pulls away, he's wearing an entirely different expression from before. That smoldering, sexy casanova was long gone and had instead been replaced by your sweet, doting, golden retriever of a boyfriend.
PUH LEASE write a sal x fem!reader where they all go to the lake, (larry, sal, ash, todd, etc) and sal is ogling the reader. then larry gives one of his motivational speeches where he talks him up to confess to her. and make it SUPES fluffy please 🤑🤑 i’ll give u my kidney
SAL FISHER X READER
🂾𓂉🂾 Beach Episode 🂾𓂉🂾I
I want to point out that I changed it up a bit. Larry is still supportive and learns about it all and encourages it like a guy best friend. (so a little immature but all in good health) and uh i couldn’t think of a title
masterlist
🂾𓂉🂾 The low hum of the Deftones spun through the battered speakers in Larry’s room, the gentle, distorted riffs of “Teenager” lacing the air with a strangely melodic chords. The posters on the wall seemed to flicker with the candlelight, smoke curling from the incense stick Larry had lazily propped in an old soda can. He lay across his bed, head resting on his folded arms, eyes half lidded. Sal sat on the floor with his back against the dresser, mask on, fingers toying with a frayed string from the hem of his hoodie. Larry let out a long sigh, kicking one foot lazily.
“So,” he said, dragging the word out with that signature Larry Young drawl, “you sure you don’t wanna tell them how you feel, dude?”
Sal let out a breath part exasperated, part defeated. “Yeah. I’m sure.” A pause. “It’s not like it matters. She’s just… her. Carefree. Like nothing in the world can ever shake her. And I’m… me.”
Larry raised an eyebrow, a shit eating grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Right, except she’s been into all your weird ghost shit since day one. That doesn’t strike you as a little suspicious?”
Sal rolled his eyes, though behind the mask, Larry only caught the tilt of his head and the sound of sarcasm lining his voice. “Oooookay, bud.” But even as he said it, his mind started drifting unwelcome but persistent, soft as the music playing in the background.
🂾𓂉🂾 It was one of those October evenings where the sky was bruised purple, the kind of night where the Addison Apartments looked especially like they were hiding something. “Let’s break into the basement,” you’d said with a grin, adjusting your flannel around your waist, boots crunching leaves beneath them. You tapped your chin, head tilting mischievously. “You and your little ghost gizmo thingy what’s it called again?”
“The Gear Boy,” Sal said, holding it up.
You snorted. “Right. Very cool very awesome demure or whatever .” Then you nudged him with your elbow. “C’mon, Sally Face. Let’s go find some demons.” You didn’t even flinch at the dark, or the cold, or the smell of mold in the stairwell. He remembered watching you run ahead, flashlight in hand, hair bouncing as you turned back and grinned at him like this was the best place in the world.
🂾𓂉🂾 Back in Larry’s room, Sal’s voice was quieter now. “She could’ve run screaming like most people. But she didn’t. Which I know she was your friend before anything but her crazy matches my crazy.”
Larry stretched, his joints popping. “Well she just likes creepy shit. Doesn’t mean she’s in love with you, dude.” Sal didn’t respond. But the next memory hit him anyway.
🂾𓂉🂾 They were sitting on the rooftop. You had a ripped black hoodie, sleeves cut into jagged edges, and a collection of safety pins holding one shoulder seam together. A cigarette dangled between your fingers, the smoke drifting in the cold air. You were talking about how your mom didn’t trust the apartments. “Says they give her the heebie jeebies,” you’d said, mocking the voice. “Can’t blame her though. The walls here feel like they’re listening.”
Sal chuckled under his breath. Then you turned toward him, all seriousness for a moment. “You ever think you might be too good for this place?”
He blinked. “What?”
You shrugged. “You’re, like, stupid kind. you might be into everyones business here, but you’re the gentlest person I know. Sometimes I wonder if you even see yourself clearly.” He looked down at the edge of the roof, heart thumping awkwardly. He thought maybe he misheard. But then you flicked your cigarette, stretched your arms behind your head, and looked back up at the stars like it hadn’t been a big deal at all.
🂾𓂉🂾 Back in the room, Larry sat up slightly, now curious. “You really think she meant something by that?”
Sal scoffed. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. She always say stuff like that. You know how she is.”
Larry gave him a skeptical look. “Yeah, and you always brush it off like it doesn’t eat you alive.”
Sal shook his head, reaching for one of Larry’s sketchpads absentmindedly, flipping it open but not really seeing the pages.
“Shes so weird? Like, nothing could tie her down. She’d walk into hell with a smile and offer the devil a light. I’m not sure I’d ever be enough to keep someone like that interested.”
🂾𓂉🂾 It was raining, and you were soaked to the bone, hair sticking to your face as you stood in the apartment hallway, laughing. “Okay,” you said between breaths, “next time you distract the teacher while I pick the lock. My ass is not cut out for this kind of stealth.” Sal had watched you giggle like a maniac, water dripping from your sleeves, eyeliner smudged like a grunge music video, and thought, I’m completely screwed. Then, you looked up at him, eyes bright, lips parted like you were about to say something else but then you stopped. Just smiled. A quiet, knowing kind of smile.
“You’re really fun to get in trouble with, Sally Face.”
🂾𓂉🂾 Larry whistled low. “That’s… okay, yeah, that one’s suspicious.”
Sal grumbled. “You think?”
Larry shrugged, lying back down again. “Sounds like she’s been flirting with you for, like, months.”
Sal leaned his head back against the dresser with a soft thump. “Or she’s just like that with everyone.” The Deftones track shifted, a more intense guitar swell starting as Digital Bath played. The room filled with its pulsing rhythm, washing over the silence between the boys. “I just…” Sal muttered, “I don’t wanna screw it up. If I say something, and I’m wrong, I lose her. And even if I’m right… someone like her, with someone like me?”
Larry stared at the ceiling. “Sal… sometimes you sound like the pieces of fart in romance movies”
Sal laughed under his breath, dry and unamused. “Thanks.”
But still, the memories pressed on him. The way your eyes lingered when you thought he wasn’t looking. The times you leaned against him when you didn’t have to. The way your laughter always came easier around him than anyone else. And the stupid, tiny, impossible hope that maybe just maybe you saw him the way he saw you. He didn’t know what to do with any of it. So instead, he stayed silent. Let the music play a little louder. Let the ghosts wait in the walls of Addison Apartments. Because maybe the scariest thing wasn’t the dead. it was the living. And how deeply they could get under your skin without even trying.
“You gotta do something, man,” Larry said, pointing a lazy finger at him. “Like, soon.”
Sal shot him a sideways glance. “Do what?”
“You know what. Confess. Or flirt. Or, I don’t know, do something with your weird little ghost boy charm. They’re basically throwing hints like they’re in a punk rock rom com, and you’re just sitting here like it’s algebra class.” Sal leaned his head back against the dresser again, letting out a groan. “I can’t, man. That’d be like… opening Pandora’s box with a note that says ‘Hey, I hope this doesn’t ruin everything!’” His voice was muffled but undeniably dry. “Also? What even is ghost boy charm?”
Larry laughed, grabbing a guitar pick from his nightstand and flicking it across the room. “You’ve got that quiet, mysterious thing going on. she eats that shit up.”
“I highly doubt that,” Sal mumbled, tugging at the sleeve of his hoodie.
Larry smirked. “Your loss, man. I’ll be sure to let you wallow in your tragic love story all by yourself while everyone else is making out by the lake.”
Just as Sal opened his mouth to counter with the fact that basically no one in the group is attracted to each other for a multitude of reasons, a loud slam echoed through the room, the door flinging open as you barreled in with a chaotic whirlwind of energy. “WENDIGO LAKE, BABYYYY!” you shouted, practically bouncing on your heels. You wore a pair of scuffed up combat boots and ripped fishnets under a patched up pair of shorts. Your backpack was a canvas battlefield blazing with sewn on patches, painted slogans, and safety pins holding together loose fabric. The Sex Pistols, Black Flag, a big bold patch reading “Only Anarchists Are Pretty”, and another featuring Vivienne Westwood’s face all clashed together like a punk rock museum on your back.
Larry blinked. “You sew all that yourself?”
You gave a proud little hum. “Hell yeah. Don’t trust machines for the good stuff.”
Sal swore his heart skipped a beat. Without hesitation, you plopped down behind Sal, your legs bracketing either side of him. You didn’t say anything at first, just casually reached around to start playing with the collar of his shirt like it was the most natural thing in the world. Twisting it between your fingers, tugging slightly, smoothing it out, then ruffling it again.
“Piercing’s new, right?” Larry asked, tilting his head and nodding toward your septum ring. “Should you even be going into the lake?” You gave him a wicked grin and then dragged your palm slowly across his face in a dramatic shhhh, your fingers smudging his cheek with the soft scent of tobacco and clove. “Shhhh,” you whispered, voice dipped low in mock seriousness. “Let me be irresponsible, Lawrence.”
Larry wiped his face off with the back of his hand, laughing. You leaned forward a bit, resting your chin on Sal’s shoulder. “I’m just stoked to have everyone out. Senior year’s been, like, a slow death. No bars around here worth anything, no good gigs nearby. It’s like the universe forgot how to throw a party.”
You pulled back slightly, hand resting on Sal’s shoulder now. “Oh by the way, I brought you some extra snacks. And a book.” You said it casually, but the words hung in the air. “Figured you weren’t going in the water.”
Sal blinked under his mask, throat tight. “You didn’t have to”
“I wanted to.” You smiled, then hopped up again, grabbing your bag. “Alright. Cigarette break. Don’t get all broody without me.” You shot a finger gun toward Sal and winked before disappearing out the back door.
The second the door closed, Larry launched himself from the bed. Sal yelped as Larry practically straddled him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him wildly. “DUDE.”
Sal struggled, awkward and panicked. “What the Larry!”
“I SEE IT. I FREAKING SEE IT!” Larry’s grin was wide enough to split his face. “That was not lowkey! That was highkey! High effort! Extra snacks and a book? Who does that? For you?”
“Why are you sitting on me!?”
“Because this is an emergency! We’re in Defcon 1, Sal! You’ve got a hardcore punk goddess out there who’s literally playing with your clothes and giving you personalized gifts like it’s Valentine’s Day for the emotionally suppressed!”
Sal flushed so deeply even the tips of his ears went pink. “She’s just That’s just how she is!”
Larry leaned in closer, eyes wide. “You are so deep in denial. Ive know her since we were shit stains. If you go one more day without at least flirting back, I swear when I die, I’m going to ghost haunt your dreams until you cry.”
Sal grumbled, face buried in his hands. Then the door creaked open again. You stood there in the doorway, one hand on the frame, a smile tugging at your lips. “Well? You boys gonna keep cuddling, or are we heading to the lake?” Sal froze. Larry grinned. You tilted your head, amusement glittering in your eyes. “C’mon. I wanna see who gets wet the fastest when we get there. I say its between Ash or me”
Larry grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “You’re actually the gross ome,” he said, walking past you. You flipped him off with a grin. Sal stood slowly, heart still racing. You looked at him over your shoulder, a little smile playing at your lips again.
“Hey. You coming, Sally Face?”
He nodded, almost dumbly. “Yeah. I’m coming.” You waited as the Deftones shifted into “Change (In the House of Flies)”, the screen door creaked shut behind you all.
🂾𓂉🂾 The lake shimmered beneath a hazy midafternoon sun, the surface rippling gently under the occasional breeze. Trees surrounded Wendigo Lake like tall, crooked teeth perfect for the vibe of this weird little friend group. The air carried the scent of water, pine, and whatever patchouli heavy perfume you’d doused yourself in before leaving. Something about that smell made Sal’s stomach twist not in a bad way. Just in that weird, you’re kinda in love with someone but don’t wanna deal with it yet sort of way. You were crouched down near the shore, a slightly beat up picnic blanket in your arms as Todd helped you flatten it out over the grass. You had insisted on bringing it, even though only you, Larry, and Sal were sharing it. Ash and Todd, for some ungodly reason, had shown up with just towels like this was a beach day. The contrast was already hilarious.
“Really going full domestic over there,” Larry muttered under his breath with a snicker, elbowing Sal, who was standing stiffly to the side, arms crossed. “You seeing this?”
Sal glanced at you and couldn’t help it he smiled. You were teasing Todd about something, fingers poking at the hem of his hoodie. He couldn’t hear you from this distance, but knowing you, it was probably something like “Bro, you hang out with emos all day. Why are you dressed like an NPR intern?” Todd just looked mildly amused, adjusting his glasses, letting you mess with him like a human fashion victim. Sal felt his cheeks heat, even under the mask. He looked away quickly. Ash, sitting cross legged nearby with her towel stretched out like a lazy cat, clocked it immediately.
“Oh my god.” She slapped a hand on Sal’s shoulder, feigning an emotional gasp. “My little boy… my son… he’s growing up so fast. He’s starting to like girls now.”
Sal groaned. “Ash, shut the hell up.”
She cackled, draping herself over his back dramatically. “Just one girl. That girl made my boy a man”
He practically peeled her off him. “Do you want me to throw you into the lake?”
Ash grinned wickedly. “Do you want me to tell her you were staring at her like she was a sexy alien sent to save the world?”
Sal grabbed her towel and yeeted it into the grass. “That’s it. Exorcism time.”
Meanwhile, you and Todd finally made your way over, you bouncing slightly on your heels as you looked at the mess unfolding. “Damn,” you said, “did we miss the hug session or did it turn into a wrestling match?”
“Sal wouldn’t mind another session,” Larry said instantly, not missing a beat, throwing a sly grin in your direction.
Ash volleyed, eyes sparkling with evil glee. “Especially if it’s with you.”
Larry followed up like the demon duo they were. “You know, he’s really into long hugs. Like, full body contact. horizontally. moving back and forth. Really intimate.”
Sal practically lunged at Larry with a “You are so dead!” as the taller boy yelped and tried to scramble out of the way, laughing the whole time.
You laughed so hard your whole body curled forward, grabbing Ash’s hand to steady yourself. “fuck man, I think they were both already stoned when i picked them up” you wheezed. “The party has officially started!” Ash was laughing too, but she still gave Sal a knowing look behind your back, mouthing the words do something already. Sal pretended not to see it.
🂾𓂉🂾 You flopped down on the blanket between Sal and Larry, reaching into your bag and pulling out a crinkled pack of gum and a mini speaker. “Alright, mild sun poisoning anyone? you pasty mofos need it”
Larry grinned. “your ass better be talking about anyone else here because I know you’re not talking to me”
Sal, still flushed under his mask and recovering from that last comment, watched you out of the corner of his eye as you started queuing up music, chatting with Ash and Todd about whether The Damned were better than The Buzzcocks. He didn’t say it out loud, but he could’ve watched you do that forever. he didn’t mind the teasing if it meant being this close to you. Even if he was the only one too chicken to do anything about it.
🂾𓂉🂾 It was a little later in the afternoon now, the heat softening as shadows stretched longer across the ground. The smell of warm grass and lake water mixed with the faint burn of something herbal someone had definitely brought a little something to pass around, and judging by the lazy laughter and general haze of good vibes, it had been shared liberally. You were half leaning on Sal’s shoulder, one leg sprawled over the other, ankle gently nudging his shin as you talked nonsense in that way you always did.
“So, like,” you murmured, voice heavy with drowsy amusement, “if fish could scream, do you think people would still go swimming?”
Sal blinked. “…What?”
You nodded like this was deeply important. “Like, you’re just chilling in the lake and suddenlyAAHHHH ” You mimicked a fish shrieking, limbs flailing, nearly smacking him in the face with your elbow.
“I think that argument gave god the entire reason for fish to not scream,” Sal said, dry but fond.
“Okay, but would you still swim?”
“…Probably not,” he admitted, then turned to glance at you. You were close. Like always. Close enough that your cheek was brushing against the edge of his shoulder. Close enough that your hand was resting by his on the blanket, pinkies nearly touching. It wasn’t unusual. You’d always been like that with him. Ever since you started hanging around, you’d just been comfortable. Always invading his space without a second thought, always bumping shoulders or leaning into him when you laughed. He’d never had the nerve to ask what it meant. Maybe it was just you. But damn it if he didn’t want it to mean something. The world swayed with a low thrum of music from your little speaker something with a steady, almost hypnotic beat. The Deftones, again. They’d been the soundtrack to the day. Dreamy. Fuzzy. A little too perfect.
“I feel like I’m melting,” you mumbled, staring up at the sky. “Let’s go swimming. Let’s go be weird little lake freaks.”
Without waiting for an answer, you kicked up from your spot, stumbling slightly with a laugh, then turned to Ash, grabbing her wrist. “Come on. Water nymph time.”
Ash groaned playfully, letting herself be dragged. “Do I have to be a nymph? Can’t I just be a vaguely damp woman?”
“Nope. Nymph or nothing.” You stuck your tongue out and reached for the hem of your shirt, tugging it up with an easy flourish.
for Sal, the world just stopped. The chatter, the breeze, the soft laughter from Todd and Larry. Gone. Even the music faded into something distant and orchestral, as if a full string section had taken over his brain. You stood in the golden light of the sun, the curve of your shoulders catching the warmth like a halo, your skin kissed in amber and the softest shadows. Your shirt slipped off, and it was like time dilated just for him.
Your body. Your posture. The way your hair caught the wind. The shimmer of sweat on your collarbone. Everything about you in that moment was art. He stared. He couldn’t not and he wasn’t even being creepy about it he wasn’t ogling for ogling’s sake. He just… forgot how to breathe. He looked at you like you were some ancient deity pulled from a forgotten shrine, like you’d stepped out of some punk rock myth, wild and grinning and just a little dangerous. And maybe, somewhere deep down, he’d always thought you looked like this. Always felt it when you leaned on him or laughed into his ear or stood with your boots planted like you owned every inch of space you took up.
You were beautiful. Sal whispered it without thinking. A breathless, soft little exhale behind his mask. “…You’re beautiful.”
You turned. Caught it. And flashed a grin so wicked and knowing he wanted to melt into the damn earth. “Thanks,” you said, stretching dramatically. “I do it for the girls” you jerked a thumb toward Ash, “and the gays” now to Todd, who gave you a sarcastic bow in return.
Larry’s voice shot out like a gunshot. “What about Sal and me?!”
You gave him a slow once over, clearly unimpressed. “You’re a perv, dickwad,” you said sweetly. “Sal can look I’ll allow it. You, as a man, should start groveling.”
The entire group burst into laughter. Ash doubled over, Todd adjusted his glasses to hide his grin, and Larry threw hand to you. flipping you off with pride. like you’d mortally wounded him. Sal, for his part, sat there utterly flustered. Frozen. A little dazed. You had heard him. And instead of teasing him, instead of making it weird, you just let him look. it was maybe even… wanted?
You turned, already skipping toward the lake with Ash in tow, your punk patched shorts low on your hips when you all first got there, you ripped your tights so they were ling gone now. a new glint catching the light from your eyes.
“Don’t take too long, losers!” you called. “Water’s waiting!”
And just like that, you were gone sprinting into the shallows, laughing as you splashed Ash and dared her to dunk you. Sal was left sitting on the blanket, staring after you, heart pounding, mind full of sun and music and your laugh. “…Holy shit,” he muttered.
Sal was still watching the lake. The way the water shimmered around you as you threw yourself backward into it, the arc of your arms as you splashed Ash there was something dizzying about the whole thing. Something surreal. Maybe it was the buzz from earlier or just the heat of the day, but it felt like the world had shifted, just a little, like the axis tilted and gravity decided to be kinder.
You looked over your shoulder once mid laugh, you knew exactly where Sal would be, you were making sure he saw you. The grin on your face could’ve been carved from rebellion and starlight. He felt like he was dying. In the good way. Larry had been quiet beside him for a few seconds too long. That should’ve been Sal’s first warning.
Then he felt it. That slow, creeping grin. He turned his head and yep. Larry was looking at him like the cat who got the cream, the rat, the last donut, and possibly a Grammy.
Larry leaned in, eyebrows raised, his voice low and drawling. “Dude,” he said with a smile far too smug for one face. “She basically just asked you to fuck.”
Sal’s brain short circuited. “What?!”
“I mean,” Larry shrugged, tossing a pebble toward the lake, “she said you could look. That’s, like, stage one. Next thing she’ll be asking you to carry her to bed like a Victorian ghost bride.”
“You are so gross,” came Todd’s voice from behind them, utterly unimpressed. He adjusted his glasses with a sigh, setting down a bottle of sunscreen. “That kind of take is exactly why she called you a perv. She knew.”
Larry threw up his hands, grinning wider. “Hey, I am a perv! I embrace the perv. But I’m also right.”
Sal pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to will his soul back into his body. “Yeah, nothing says romance like ‘she’ll haunt you if you don’t rail her.’ Totally the dream.” Todd let out a snort, and Larry cackled, falling back onto the blanket. “Y’all are dumb,” Sal muttered, but he was smiling behind the mask. He couldn’t help it. The warm buzz of your laugh in the distance, the afterglow of your flirtation (which was totally flirtation, right?), and his friends acting like idiots it all wrapped around him like a blanket fresh from the dryer.
🂾𓂉🂾 Golden hour washed the world in amber. Everything looked softer, warmer, even the worn edges of the ghost gang out in the water. Their laughter echoed across Wendigo Lake, distant and muffled like a memory being recalled in real time. Sal sat on the blanket you and Todd had set up, the spine of the book you’d brought him resting comfortably in his palms. He’d tried to focus. Really, he had. He even read the same paragraph four times.
But every few seconds, his eyes would wander first toward the water, then toward you. You were laughing as Ash tried to climb onto Todd’s shoulders for some impromptu chicken fight. Larry was egging both of you on from the sidelines, flinging water like an excited Labrador. It was stupid. Wild. Loud. But Sal could only sit there, book in hand, and watch. Not because he didn’t want to join. because he couldn’t. Even with all of you people who had seen the real him, scarred and broken and still trying he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t take off the mask. Couldn’t risk the way you’d all look at him one day if something in your brains shifted and the wrong thought took hold. He could still hear echoes of old kids, of freak and monster. He kept the mask on. Always. Even when he wanted to be a part of things. Even when you looked back at him with a smile that seemed to say, Come on, blue boy. The world’s warmer over here. He looked down at the page again. A line about borrowed time. About choices made in secret.
Then a splash, a laugh, water footsteps on grass. He looked up, the air left his lungs. You were walking toward him, golden hour catching every drop of water clinging to your skin, each one like a star strung along your body. You were soaked and radiant and barefoot in the dirt, and you were wearing a two piece that could’ve been forged by some divine hand to ruin his entire week. Sal felt like a little boy discovering women for the first time. Like, oh. Oh, that’s what this feeling is. Your hair stuck to your cheeks, your septum ring catching the light just so. A punk Venus. A grungy dream. You were all sunburnt mischief and unapologetic beauty. He didn’t even realize he was staring until you plopped down beside him with a hum, rubbing water from your eyes.
“Hey,” you said, grinning. “How’s it goin’?”
Sal shifted slightly, trying not to sound too affected. “Oh, y’know. Just enjoying my career as the local cryptid.”
You snorted and fished out a towel from nearby, shaking it before folding it and draping it over his lap. Then, without warning, you laid down right across the towel, your damp hair spilling slightly onto his hoodie sleeve. Sal looked down at you, eyes wide, book hovering midair.
“Do I even get a warning before you invade my lap?” he deadpanned.
You smirked up at him, cheek pressed to the towel. “Nope. Felt like it. Problem?”
He exhaled through his nose. “Just trying not to die of cardiac arrest. Thanks.”
You poked his side gently. “That’s what the mask is for, right? To keep all your panic internal?”
“Exactly. It’s the emotional equivalent of a paper bag.”
You smiled, head tilted up so you could meet his eyes. “You start the book yet?”
He glanced at the open pages in his lap. “I’ve been trying.”
“‘Trying,’ huh?” You gave him a knowing look. “What’s the verdict? Worth my very cool, carefully curated recommendation?”
Sal paused for a moment. Then nodded, honest. “It’s good. Actually. Weird good. You’ve got disturbingly good taste.” You lit up at the compliment
“Okay, okay,” you said, turning slightly more onto your back, your arm flopping lazily over his legs. “Read it out loud. I wanna hear you read it.”
Sal blinked. “Seriously?”
“Mhm,” you hummed. “You’ve got a nice voice. It’s like… if sarcasm were smooth jazz.”
He stared down at you, heart hammering in his chest. “You’re lucky I can’t blush through this mask.”
“You’re lucky I don’t make you take it off and prove it.”
Sal scoffed lightly, looked down at the book again, then cleared his throat. You looked up at him like he hung the damn stars. so, under the waning gold light of the evening, with your head against his legs and your hand absentmindedly brushing his knee, Sal began to read. His voice steadying, even if the words on the page danced between lines of wonder and disbelief.
He couldn’t focus on the text. Not really. But it didn’t matter. Because in that moment with you next to him, comfortable and unafraid Sal felt a little more seen.
🂾𓂉🂾 On the other side of the lake, the water rippled gently around Ash, Todd, and Larry as they floated or waded just deep enough to stay cool. They were watching from a safe, absolutely not suspicious distance though their not so subtle gawking was giving the game away hard.
Ash narrowed her eyes like a sniper sighting her target. “She’s laying on his lap. She’s laying on his lap, you guys.”
“No, no,” Larry whispered like he was in church. “We all know she kinda flirty with everyone thats her personality but who flirts in such a casual way like her?.”
Todd adjusted his glasses, blinking once. “They’re always physically close. But this is different.”
Ash looked at him. “Right?! This is intentional closeness. This is I could’ve sat anywhere but I chose the throne.”
Larry, in the middle of floating on his back, suddenly stood straight up in the water like he’d been struck by lightning. “Wait. WAIT. Is she touching his leg right now?”
“Yes,” Todd and Ash said in perfect sync.
Larry, unable to cope, flung himself backward dramatically into the lake. Water splashed everywhere as he sank into the shallows like a fallen hero.
“I can’t they’re gonna fall in love and get married and we’re going to have to wear matching suits for the wedding,” he cried from below the surface before sitting back up with a sputter.
Ash was cackling, half drowning in laughter. “Do you think he’s sweating under that mask? Like. Frying.”
Todd, always a little more composed, was still clutching his towel like a war fan. “It’s the quiet ones that fall the hardest. You see that stare? That man’s reading a book and still found time to look at her like she’s the damn sun.”
All three of them turned into rubbernecking witnesses as Sal, still on the blanket, did the unthinkable. He moved his hand. Delicately. Softly. brushed a piece of hair out of your face.
“OH MY GOD!” Ash shrieked.
“IT’S HAPPENING!” Todd gasped, dropping his towel like it betrayed him.
Larry slapped both hands over his mouth, eyes wide. “I knew he liked her, but this this is outta a movie, bro.”
Ash practically threw herself at the water’s surface, splashing Larry in the process. “I mean, I know he’s got the mask on, but that boy’s soul just ascended.”
Todd was now pacing in knee deep water like a dad preparing a PowerPoint. “That gesture was too tender.”
“I’m gonna cry,” Ash said, wiping fake tears from her face. “Look at her. She’s probably asleep and doesn’t even know she’s got Sal acting like the love interest in a coming of age drama.”
Larry leaned into the dramatic energy immediately, tossing his arms out wide. “HE MOVED HER HAIR, GUYS. THE HAIR. The hair”
Todd nodded solemnly. “The ancient texts foretold this moment.”
Ash, not to be outdone, fell to her knees in the shallows and lifted her hands to the sky. “Sal Fisher is in LOVE and it’s SOFT and GENTLE and she’s probably gonna wake up and say something weird and philosophical and I just I love this stupid, freakish group of friends.”
Larry wiped an invisible tear from his cheek, then suddenly smirked. “You think if we all walk over there right now, he’d panic and fling the book across the lake?”
Ash chuckled, climbing to her feet. “Let them have their moment. Sal’s being brave in his own way.”
Todd added, “It’s kind of beautiful. He’s letting himself feel something.”
“God,” Larry muttered. “If she kisses him later, I might just explode.”
Ash nodded gravely. “Then we explode together.”
Todd sighed with a small smile. “They don’t even know we’re over here narrating their love story like omniscient gods.”
“And we will not tell them either,” Larry said. “This is sacred. This is ours.”
And so the trio stood (or waded), eyes fixed on the quiet scene playing out across the shoreline Sal carefully reading with you resting on his lap, the lake breeze brushing through your hair, a piece of peace they all felt lucky to witness. No one spoke for a minute. Then Ash whispered, “She better ask him out before graduation or I’m staging an intervention.”
🂾𓂉🂾 The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting golden hour across Wendigo Lake like it was something out of a dream everything warm and slow and humming. The world had turned syrup thick, still and heavy with late summer heat and the haze of the day. On the picnic blanket, Sal sat nearly frozen in place, a book long forgotten in his lap, cradled now beneath the soft rise and fall of your sleeping frame. The towel you’d laid down between your soaked body and his jeans was doing exactly jack shit to keep the water from seeping through. He’d given up on caring about the damp chill a while ago sometime after you’d curled up on top of his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Your arms tucked beneath your chin, your breathing slow and even. His own hoodie now rested over your back, cocooning you with a softness he hoped might make up for how still he was forcing himself to be. He didn’t dare move. Not yet. God, you were beautiful.
Sal’s breath caught when he looked down at you. The way your septum ring caught the light. The wet strands of hair pressed against your cheek. The slope of your nose. Your eyelashes looked longer like this, somehow. Relaxed. Innocent. Peaceful.
And all he could think all he could think was I have to tell you. I have to. If I don’t do it now, I never will.
His heart pounded so hard he was sure Todd could probably feel it from the other side of the lake. Every nerve in his body buzzed with static. His stomach churned in knots, and the voice in his head that mean little bastard voice kept whispering, You’re gonna ruin everything.
But then he looked at you again. Still sleeping. Still peaceful. Still here. On his lap. He reached out, moving a lock of hair from your face again slow, careful, like if he went too fast, you’d vanish into mist. His pinky brushed against your cheekbone as he did, light as air.
You stirred gently, eyelids fluttering open. The slow, lazy blink of someone waking from a warm nap, like a cat. You didn’t move from your spot. Your face turned slightly up toward him, hair fanned out under his hoodie. Sal felt his throat go dry. But it was now or never.
“Pspspsps,” he whispered playfully, soft and dumb and completely him.
You blinked again, brows slightly furrowing as you woke more fully. “Hmm?”
He smiled nervously. “Hey… do you think you’d be willing to give me a chance?”
You stared at him for a second. The sleep still lingering in your expression gave way to a flicker of surprise. Eyes widening just slightly. Your lips parted in a little “oh,” before curling up into a lazy grin. Your tone was smooth, but playful light teasing laced with real meaning. “Alright, pretty boy…” you hummed, voice still sticky with sleep, “…I will.”
Sal’s heart skipped at least two full beats.
“But,” you added, one eye narrowing mischievously, “if you mess with me, I’ll make sure you never hear the end of it.” A beat of silence passed. then Sal laughed soft and low and real. It wasn’t sarcastic or bitter or guarded. It was warm. Nervous. Happy.
He nodded, breathless. “Fair enough.”
You yawned, stretching slightly but didn’t move off his lap. Your hand reached up and lazily tugged the edge of his hoodie closer around your shoulder. “Good. Now shut up and keep reading. Your voice is nice.”
Sal swallowed. “Right. Okay. Reading.”
But his hands shook a little as he picked up the book again, smile hidden behind his mask, heart screaming from inside his chest. even though the towel underneath was still soaked through, and his jeans were a wet mess, and the rest of the group was definitely watching from the lake with wide eyes and zero chill. Sal felt like he’d just won something huge. He had you. Or at least, now… he had a chance.
